Harma Dogshead merely smiled at Gale's words, choosing silence as her response. Her reaction prompted a frown from Gale. He couldn't shake the feeling that she might require some 'convincing.' Just as he was about to reach for his iceblade, Val intervened.
"Harma is with me," Val cleared her throat before elaborating, "She's the one who confirmed Rattleshirt and Styr's plans to ambush you." Val's revelation prompted a sigh from Gale.
"I was wondering why none of her men rushed up the stairs to attack me and chose to stay behind Rattleshirt's lot," Gale expressed, adopting an understanding tone. "I suppose that explains it." He relaxed his posture, acknowledging the situation's clarity.
Threya overheard their conversation as she approached them, her expression furrowing in a frown. "So, you knew about this ambush... and you didn't bother to warn us?" she questioned Val, casting a bemused look in her direction.
"To fool your enemy, you have to fool your friends first," Gale interjected with a shrug before Val could respond, causing Threya's dissatisfaction to grow.
"Oh? And here I was expecting you to start whining and complaining like you usually do," Threya retorted with narrowed eyes, her discontent evident. "You just love to disappoint, don't you...?"
The young man shook his head. "Don't get me wrong... I'm not happy about this either, but it's the smart thing to do," Gale replied with a bitter chuckle. "I was contemplating doing the same thing when I got back to the Wall," he explained, causing Threya to give him a questioning look.
Noticing her expression, Gale began, "There are bound to be stubborn rangers unwilling to set aside their grievances with your people," he gestured toward the unconscious wildling. "They must be flushed out uprooted, much like this self-styled Lord of Bones and the Thenn." He stressed the necessity.
"With the Night King looming upon us, we can't indulge fragile egos and cooling hotheads," Gale concluded, underlining the urgency of the situation.
Threya grasped the rationale in Gale's words and realized that Rayder's plan was the most pragmatic. However, the lack of transparency left her unsatisfied. Moreover, seeing Gale, known for nitpicking their decisions, embracing this plan irked her.
She turned to Tormund, carrying his unconscious relative on his shoulder, and voiced her concern, "What say you? Surely, you're not satisfied with this, are you?" Her scowl conveyed her discontent.
Tormund grinned and shook his head. "You know, when the first signs of the long winter began to show, I thought it was my time to rally our people and make myself the King Beyond the Wall," he mused, causing a furrow of confusion on Threya's brow.
"I even had a crown with two mammoth tusks prepared...." Tormund continued with a chuckle. "But soon realized I wasn't cut out for that... I can outfight, outdrink, and outsing Rayder, and my cock is three times the size of his, but there's something he's got that I lack," he added, trailing off with a peculiar expression.
Intrigued and almost amused, Threya couldn't resist inquiring. "And what might that be?" she asked.
Tormund chuckled a hint of self-reflection in his eyes. "Cunning and a way with words..." he stated matter-of-factly. "Two things neither of us seems to possess... might as well follow those who do. It's for the best," he concluded with a shrug.
Threya fell into a contemplative silence at Tormund's words, a thoughtful expression replacing the furrowed lines on her forehead. Tormund flashed a grin, his eyes holding a mix of wisdom and a mischievous spark. He mentioned needing to rouse his unconscious relative and give him a lesson in manners before departing, the boy still slumping across Tormund's shoulders.
Observing Tormund's departure, Threya shifted her gaze toward Gale, who appeared engrossed in a fervent conversation with Val. Their voices were distant, making it difficult for her to discern the specifics, but it was evident that Gale had reverted to his customary grumblings.
His dissatisfaction was apparent as he expressed his weariness over the constant trials and tests of character the wildlings subjected him to, asserting that anyone else attempting such trials would regret ever being born.
His choice of words was colorful and far from the polite, flowery speech one would expect from Southerners, yet Threya couldn't fault him.
Val could have stopped the conflict without pushing Gale into a duel. But, she deliberately permitted it to test whether Gale would comply to preserve a handful of wildling lives.
Gale naturally grasped her underlying motives, leading to a slew of colorful curses and threats that only seemed to amuse Val.
A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of Threya's lips as she shook her head, feeling a mix of understanding and resignation. She chose to depart, her steps echoing a sense of silent resolve as she walked away from the lingering discussions.
...
Approaching the colossal Wall in the South, Lord Eddard Stark led a procession comprising Robb Stark, Jon Snow, Ser Barristan Selmy, Tyrion Lannister, and a contingent of House Stark soldiers. The looming Wall cast an imposing shadow, dominating the skyline.
"Well, well, this is the famous Wall, meant to shield us from the wild's horrors," Tyrion remarked, guiding his steed forward with a gentle hand. "It's even more impressive than I anticipated, unlike the ruins of Moat Cailin," he added, drawing a chuckle from Ser Barristan.
"Let's hope the reality as opposed to your expectations isn't the only difference...." Ser Barristan replied wryly. "Another ambush would be quite unwelcome, although this Wall seems more defensible than Moat Cailin," he said, subtly glancing towards Lord Stark, who acknowledged the words with a frown but remained silent.
Although Lord Stark and his eldest sons were present, Eddard had tasked his men with investigating the ambush, the culprits of which remained elusive.
Eddard Stark still refused to entertain the notion that one of his vassal houses might have been responsible for the Moat Cailin ambush. This insistence visibly dissatisfied Ser Barristan Selmy, leading him to make snide remarks about the matter along the way.
The old knight's deep-seated offense at Lord Stark's refusal to admit the possibility, despite the ongoing investigation, perplexed Tyrion. Sttil, He refrained from probing further, not wishing to delve into the tension between them.
However, he made it his impromptu task to alleviate the tension whenever such topics arose, and this time was no exception.
He cleared his throat and maneuvered his steed to ride alongside Jon Snow. "Seems like a desolate place to spend your days... no drinks or fair company," Tyrion quipped, casting a sideways glance at the young man. "Are you sure you want to pledge your life to the Night's Watch?" he asked, attempting to shift the conversation away from the strained topic.
As they rode on, Jon Snow acknowledged Tyrion's jest about the desolate life at the Night's Watch. "True, it might seem dreary, but there's honor in it, and someone has to bear that duty," Jon replied with a nod. "Besides... it's for the best, considering everyone's circumstances," he added, directing a glance at Eddard and Robb, deep in discussion about the affairs of the northern realm.
Observing Jon's gaze, Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "Trying to make way for the superior brother, are we?" he quipped, a mischievous grin forming on his face. "You're a better man than me, bastard of Winterfell... the only way that old goat is going to keep me from staking a claim to the Rock is to have me hang."
Tyrion chuckled, the humor carrying a tint of resignation. "A fate he might very well choose for me one day," he added, his chuckle fading into a weary sigh as he shook his head.
Jon responded to Tyrion's jest with a smile, appreciating the humor, yet feeling the weight of the conversation. "If I didn't know any better, Lord Tyrion, I might think you're inciting a revolt. Better watch your words," he cautioned with a reproachful glance.
While he and Tyrion had grown somewhat close during their journey from Winterfell to the Wall, Jon couldn't allow Tyrion to speak so freely about such sensitive matters.
Tyrion chuckled and shook his head. "I didn't mean to instigate anything. I only wished to inspire a fellow bastard. We needn't spend our lives living in the shadows of our true-born kin..."
Jon couldn't help but chuckle in response. "And what do you know about being a bastard, Lord Lannister?" he quipped, his eyebrow arched in bemusement.
Tyrion's reply was quick as it was full of resignation. "All dwarfs are bastards in their fathers' eyes..."
...
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