"You're quite handsome, aren't you?" asked a large, burly man. He had gray hair and a huge beard. His arms were adorned with gold bracelets. "Cuter than my daughter," he laughed.
Jaehaerys recognized him immediately. There was another red-haired girl next to him, pointing a bow in his direction. A group of about ten men was with them. He heard one mention Daenerys. Hearing the words 'silver hair' and 'steal' in the same sentence did not please the prince.
"What about the other two?" asked the redhead, her gaze suspicious.
"You don't need them, I'm enough to negotiate," said the prince.
"Negotiate?" asked the gray-haired man. "What will they offer us for your freedom?" he asked.
"Asylum," said the prince immediately. "You are going south. Not out of fear, not out of greed... no, you are doing it to survive. Something terrifying is coming from the north, and you are in its way," said the prince, and the gray-haired man's smile faded.
"Asylum?" asked the redhead. "You'll invite us into their huge castles and give us luxurious rags?" she asked, almost mockingly. "You, kneelings, took a piece of land and decided it would be yours. By what right?" she complained. "Oh, this piece of land is now mine. You can't hunt here, or farm, or eat unless I allow you to," he imitated a pompous voice.
"Don't you do the same, wildlings?" asked Jaehaerys.
"We are freefolk. And no, we don't," said the redhead. The gray-haired man watched the exchange with interest.
"You say that... but isn't it your people's custom to steal women?" The prince looked at her, waiting for her answer.
"They do it to prove they are strong enough to protect them. It's not the same," she replied, defending her customs.
"You take what belongs to others, you plunder what is not yours. You live without rules, killing each other on a whim. The lords kept their lands. They kept them because, as you said, they were strong enough to protect them, to bring order," Jaehaerys replied. He was no fan of medieval politics. But it suited him, and he wasn't about to waste his position.
"We live free," said the redhead.
"And die quickly," the prince replied.
"How many lords can really hold their lands on their own? None. They just order others to go and kill themselves in their name. Take away their armies, and they are nothing; they are men like us. That includes you, Prince Targaryen," another man spoke up this time.
He was of medium height, thin but broad-shouldered, with fine features and brown eyes that looked at the prince with curiosity. He wore a black cloak with a red trim. He stepped forward, above the others.
The prince walked toward him, stopping when his foot touched a stone about two meters from the man. The redhead kept her bow raised, but the man who had spoken gestured for her to lower it, and she reluctantly obeyed.
"You obey him? Did he steal you? Or did you kneel before him?" Jaehaerys asked ironically.
"We don't kneel. They follow me because I brought them hope to cross the wall," said the man. "There are so many princes in the south. Which one are you?" he asked.
"Jaehaerys Targaryen, The Prince of Scrolls," he introduced himself. "I would offer you a handshake, but, tsk," he showed it to him, the arrow stuck in it.
"I am Mance Rayder, unifier of the free folk," the man introduced himself.
"You are too far south to be the King-Beyond-the-Wall," Jaehaerys commented, the faces of the others souring at the title.
"You are the king's brother. That should give us the option to talk to him," said Mance.
"You think so? My brother won't be so willing to listen to you. He's dead after all. When was the last time you climbed the wall and explored the south, Abel?" The man's face showed surprise and interest. Abel was a nickname Mance Rayder used in the south.
"A Targaryen with more brains than madness, that's what the rumors said about you. So you've heard of me?" the man asked. "You lived at Winterfell with Lord Stark. I once wanted to see you, but the gods did not seem willing to show me your face," he frowned.
"A pity, truly. Even so, the king is dead; my nephew is king. But it is not with them that you should negotiate, but with me," the prince sighed. "My lands are vast, uninhabited. If your people agree to follow the rules there—"
"We do not kneel," the man repeated, like a mantra.
"Then... you will end up dead," the redhead drew her bow again.
"Ygritte," Mance warned. He looked at the prince's bleeding hand. "He is unarmed, he is not a threat," Jaehaerys scoffed at his words.
"Am I not?" the prince smiled. "What man has the strength to hold his lands? None. That... may apply to most men, but the Targaryens, we are different," Mance opened his eyes in surprise.
"Impossible," whispered the leader of the wildlings.
"GRAAH!" roared Moonfyre from the top of the wall. The echo of his roar shook the earth. Jaehaerys watched the hope drain from Mance's eyes. The rest of the wildlings stood guard.
"I've heard rumors," Mance muttered. "Less than a year ago, I never believed they were that big," he said, looking at the prince. "Even so, the dragon is there, and you are here. What would prevent us from killing you?"
"Your desire to live," the prince shrugged. "I die, and my dragon—"
"WILL BURN THEM ALL!" Aerys's eyes flashed like wild flames when he saw the dragon on the wall. Tormund struck him hard on the back of the neck, and his body fell limp. Jaehaerys looked at the wildling; his eyes were full of terror. Aerys's words touched deeply into his fears.
"As much as I dislike that phrase... it will be the future your people will see if I die. Is that what you want? You'll end up between ice and fire." The prince began to fiddle with the stone on the ground.
The wildlings fell silent. Mance looked into the distance at the dragon, which was still perched atop the wall. He seemed to give up, as if his life's purpose was gone.
"In the end, you're no different from the other lords," Ygritte said. Her voice was full of anger. "You need others to do the work for you," she complained. "I failed before, I won't do it again," she began to raise his bow.
Jaehaerys kicked the stone he had been playing with toward the redhead's bow. That moment of distraction allowed him to get closer to Mance. The man drew his sword, but the prince was faster. He struck his arm hard, and with a groan, the man dropped his sword.
Jaehaerys took a hidden dagger and held it to the man's throat while taking him hostage.
"I tried to talk to you, but you didn't cooperate," said Jaehaerys. "Drop the bow," he ordered the redhead.
"Don't listen to him, Ygritte," Mance said calmly. The girl tensed the bow. "Your dragon... why didn't you bring it closer?" she asked in a whisper.
Jaehaerys cursed in his mind. 'What a clever man, fuck!', the prince thought. The dragon was a bluff. Dragons don't cross the wall.
"The last time you went south. When was that? There was a war," he explained. "I've already burned alive too many people. I don't want to kill any more," he told him.
"That's a good excuse. But I don't believe you. Not when you have a dagger to my throat. You'll kill me if you have to, won't you?" Mance asked.
"Not wanting to kill doesn't mean my hand will tremble when I do it. I'd rather you let us go in peace," Jaehaerys said.
"Peace? We'll kill each other sooner or later," Mance said.
"The path you chose only leads to war. I showed you another, but you decided not to take it. Too much pride in you, Free Folk," said the prince.
"We do not kneel," repeated the man. "The woman and the man, go for them," Mance said to his people. Your dragon will not come near. Do not hurt them, they are valuable," Mance ordered the Free Folk.
"If you approach them, I will kill him," said Jaehaerys. "Without Mance... can the Free Folk remain united?" he asked, and got no reply. "No... You know the answer. Without him, your dream of going south will die in the blink of an eye," Ygritte tensed her bow more tightly as she heard him.
"We'll let them go," said the gray-haired man who spoke at the beginning. His hand made Ygritte lower her bow. "Don't kill him," he asked, and Jaehaerys nodded.
"Tormund!" Ygritte said loudly that she wasn't happy with that decision.
"Brandon, take her and go to Castle Black as quickly as possible." Jaehaerys gritted his teeth as he heard Daenerys' screams; she would be furious when he returned.
"Step back, I swear by the Old Gods that I will not harm him." The wildlings looked at Mance, who nodded, looking heartbroken.
"Do you believe in the old gods?" Mance asked curiously.
"I do." The prince let her go. "I didn't expect you to be part of the group climbing the wall. Who will lead the attack from the north?"
"You know too much. No, I wasn't going to climb the wall. My men mentioned that the former king used to come out from behind the wall. I wanted to be here when the exchange was needed," said Mance. "You may think we already lost by far, but I have a-"
"A horn to tear down the wall, right? And then? You run south, you'll die by the swords. Meanwhile, the others increase their number." Jaehaerys interrupted him. "That considering the horn actually works", he doubts it.
"In the end... we don't stand a chance, do we?" he asked the prince. "What did the gods gift you to know so much?" he said, looking at the sky, frustrated.
"No, you don't," replied the prince. "And it's not because of my dragons. The Starks are gathering an army to come north of the wall," the prince told him.
"A few moons ago, they were at war. Was it over so quickly?" he asked into the air. "Ah... yes, I see," he concluded, looking at the dragon on the wall.
"Yes... my offer still stands," the prince told him. "It was a good decision to order them not to harm my wife. Otherwise, you would be dead by now," he said as he walked toward the wall. The wildlings were already quite far away, and from this distance, he could easily dodge the arrow, knowing where it was coming from.
"They won't accept..." Mance said.
"Then... I'm sorry for your people," the prince said.
"Wait!" Mance shouted. The prince turned around and listened to what he had to say.