Game of Thrones: A Dance of Ice and Fire

Yoriichi braced himself as he pushed the heavy flaps of the meeting tent, as a gust of icy wind followed him inside clashing with the heat of the fire from within.

He heard nothing at first except the crackle of the low central fire and the muffled murmurs of many voices.

Within moments his eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he found himself facing a circle of figures chiefs and leaders of their people, each representing an essential faction that had kept them alive this past decade in these pitiless northern wastes.

The gathering space smelled of old pelts, woodsmoke, and tension. This was not the unusual disagreements that flared at nearly every assembly but tonight it felt sharper, more urgent.

He could see Odin, his father, standing tall and grim. Next to him stood Brusha, the leader of the spearwives, lips pressed thin as if holding back frustration. Nearby was Drugger, who oversaw the wargs and scouts, leaning on a carved post with narrowed eyes. Hargar, the artisan who specialized in shaping bone and antler, crouched on a low stool, fingers drumming anxiously against his thigh. And there, apart from the rest, stood Styr the Magnar of Thenns, arms crossed over his broad chest, wearing a mocking half-smile.

Around these five were a few lesser figures of spearwives close to Brusha, a pair of tall hunters who answered to Odin, and a handful of scouts who reported to Drugger. Although numerous, they remained silent, waiting for direction from their chiefs.

Outside, Ygritte lingered, as Yoriichi sensed her presence. Brusha had likely barred the girl from fully entering, because sometimes negotiations could get uncontrollable, and they did not need children in harm's way, not that Ygritte would ever see herself as a mere child.

Yoriichi took a single breath and raised his voice clearly so all could hear. "We must consider moving south."

That statement rang through the tent, turning heads and causing a ripple of murmurs. He saw the surprise on a few faces. They likely expected him to listen quietly at first, yet here he was, speaking boldly.

Odin nodded slightly, encouraging his son to speak further. Yoriichi stepped deeper into the circle.

"We've lived here for over a decade, scraping by in these Frostfang foothills," Yoriichi said. "But now the prey are vanishing. The traps leave nothing. and the children of the tribe are growing more hungry." He let his words seep in, then continued "Especially with the cold only growing fiercer, if we remain, we risk a slow death." Yoriichis had a serious gaze, as his voice dropped a little "So we must head south, seek forests not yet stripped clean, streams that still run, and lands less cursed by this deepening chill."

Hargar let out a quiet sigh, tapping his bone awl against his knee. "We know these lands. We've endured snowstorms and empty snares before. But a little frost never killed anyone strong enough to face it. Why flee into unknown territories, closer to the Wall and the crows?"

Drugger inclined his head. "My scouts find fewer tracks each week. The wargs sniff the frozen ground and return puzzled. There's no freshness in the air, no scent of hares, foxes, or caribou. It's as if the animals themselves have abandoned us." His voice remained calm, but his eyes showed worry. "If Yoriichi says south, I'm inclined to listen. At least we'd have a chance at something new."

Brusha frowned, arms still folded. "The spearwives do indeed struggle to keep the children fed. We have exhausted old caches. The children complain that the wind steals the warmth from their beds... However, If we march south, can we guarantee our safety? Other tribes roam between here and the Wall...some friendly, some hostile. We risk running straight into their knives."

"Knives indeed," Styr drawled, stepping forward. "The boy wants south, where others might see a group of 10,000 hungry souls as easy pickings. Tell me... Yoriichi... How do you plan to handle the Ice-Runners clan near the eastern crags, or the Tall-Trees people lurking amid silent forests? I've heard whispers of Rattleshirt's followers drifting not far from here. Marching that many folk, especially old ones, babes, and spearwives that are already stretched thin, would only tempt the raiders to attack. Not to mention the crows and their Wall." His grin spread slowly as if savouring the problem. "And then there are the Thenns... We have our ways, as you know."

Odin's fists clenched. "We know your ways well enough. If we must move, we may ask for alliances. We can send envoys to these tribes. Offer them a chance to join us. Unity could keep blades off our throats."

"Unity," Styr repeated, sneering. "A pretty notion. Since when do Free Folk follow any banner but their own desires? If you approach these tribes, what do you have to entice them? Thin pelts, empty stomachs, and dreams? They will merely laugh. Or they'll wait until nightfall and pick off your weakest."

Yoriichi squared his shoulders. "We would approach them not as beggars, but as equals. We have the numbers to show them our strength and wisdom. If we can persuade others to join our cause we can share what little we have and offer protection in return, Together we can deter those raiders you speak of."

Hargar gave a low grunt. "If we must deal with other tribes, we must also recall what happened to those we sent trading not long ago. They never returned, or only a few crept back half-dead, mumbling of strange sights in the snow. Some blame the Thenns for that."

Brusha's eyes flashed. "Aye, now that you mention it, a trading party was indeed dispatched but not all of them made it home... The survivors said something followed them." She fixed Styr with a pointed look. "Did you decide you wanted more than our trade?" as she clenched her spear, her movements and actions looked to scream: say yes so I can stab you now.

Styr shrugged, expression unreadable. "If we took your traders, would you be guessing still? Thenns are direct. If we wanted to feast on their flesh" he let that word linger "there would be no mystery. Perhaps your people wandered too far and fell prey to the land itself. Or perhaps something else roams these wastes, something that leaves no footprints."

Odin stepped closer to Styr, voice a warning rumble. "You speak of horrors too lightly. Or could those that have blue eyes and walk in darkness exist around your camp?"

The entire tent seemed to inhale at once. Brusha tightened her hold on her belt knife. Drugger's mouth set in a grim line. Hargar stopped tapping his tool and looked toward the tent flap as if expecting monsters at any second.

"That's old nonsense," Hargar said, trying to sound steady. "Stories to frighten children. The dead do not walk."

Drugger's whisper was barely audible "My wargs refused certain ridges these past weeks. They growled at empty air. I thought it strange but chalked it up to wolves or hidden crevasses. Now that Odin mentions the legends, I am not so sure."

Styr rolled his shoulders dismissively, but he lacked his earlier smugness. "So you suspect phantom walkers and ghouls, and you come accusing the Thenns of foul play?" He leaned forward. "I call that fear talking. The Thenns can be cruel, yes, but we are not ghosts."

Brusha snarled, "It would be easier if it were just you! At least we could face living foes. But if something else lurks out there, something not human, what then? Wandering south might bring us closer to danger but staying here may kill us."

Yoriichi raised a hand to silence the rising tensions and bring his initial thoughts back on track. "We cannot cower here, waiting for answers that never come. Our hunters find no game. The cold worsens. Children starve. Doing nothing is not an option. If indeed there are horrors beyond what we know, standing still will not protect us. We must gather strength. We must unite, or we will be destroyed one by one."

Styr chuckled darkly. "Unite under whose banner? A boy's?" He pointed at Yoriichi. "You wish to forge alliances with the Ice-Runners, Tall-Trees, maybe even Rattleshirt's stragglers? They won't bow to a child's schemes."

Yoriichi met Styr's gaze evenly. "Once again, I don't ask anyone to bow. We are Free Folk. We do not kneel to kings. I ask them to join, to share resources, to defend each other. Show them with a reason that survival is stronger in numbers. If a single tribe tries to stand alone, they may feed themselves for a while but starve eventually."

Odin grunted approval. "The boy speaks with sense. Even you, Magnar, must see that if all remain divided, the first tribe to falter becomes a meal for others. Isn't it better to band together in these hard times?"

Styr snorted. "Band together? Do you demand we abandon our traditions? The Thenns have their ways. If flesh must fill bellies, we do not shy from it."

Brusha bristled. "Enough! We will never accept that. If you want to join us, Magnar, you must abandon… that practice. We might starve, but we will not become beasts."

Drugger nodded in silent agreement. Hargar pursed his lips, clearly unsettled by the entire conversation. Yoriichi took a step toward Styr, looking up at the taller man without flinching.

"No human flesh," Yoriichi said softly. "If you want to remain with us, fight beside us, benefit from our numbers and what alliances we can forge, you must swear never to harm our own or use them as meat. That is not survival; that is madness."

Styr's eyes narrowed. "And if we refuse?"

"Then you remain here," Yoriichi answered, "Or go your own way. But know this; we have 10,000 people. If we merge with other tribes, that number could double, or triple. Eventually, we would be too numerous and too well-organized for the Thenns to threaten. If you cling to your old cruelties, you will be left behind, alone in the snow, facing whatever horrors come. When the day arrives that hunger gnaws at your bones, no one will answer your pleas."

Odin cracked his knuckles. "You heard him. We have given you a choice. There will be no more talk of devouring anyone. This is a line we do not cross."

Styr's lip curled, revealing a flash of teeth. "You dare issue ultimatums to the Magnar of Thenns? Perhaps when your bellies rumble and your children cry, you will see differently. Hunger makes men savage."

Brusha's voice cut through, unexpectedly gentle yet firm: "We know hunger. We have known it these many years. Yet even starving, we never stooped to such depravity. That you even consider it proves that you might never understand what we attempt to build."

Drugger cleared his throat. "Let's focus on the details. Suppose we move south cautiously... We must send envoys to neighbouring tribes. We'd then explain our goal, unite, and move as one, share what we find, and stand against threats together. We can also promise that each tribe retains its freedom, but agrees not to prey on the others. With enough allies, we deter raids. If those tribes laugh at us, we leave them be. If they threaten us, we stand our ground. If they send spears against us, we fight back. But if even a few join, we increase our strength."

Hargar nodded uncertainly. "We must be careful choosing envoys. If we send weak negotiators, they might not return. We must send folk who speak well and carry themselves with dignity. Perhaps some known hunters from our tribe are respected in these parts. We must also choose the right path south. Too close to the Wall invites the Night's Watch's arrows. Too far east, and we run into Ice-Runners who are said to dislike any outsiders. The Tall-Trees might be more open-minded if we bring them something of value."

Yoriichi considered this. "We have some furs left, tools Hargar crafted, and if we can spare a few weapons, we show good faith. We must emphasize that we are not beggars, but potential allies. We can also speak of what we suspect lurks in the north, if these horrors are real, surely others have glimpsed them. Fear might drive them to join us."

The chiefs started mumbling with each other and started to give out ideas on how to better invest in Yoriichi's plan.

Odin rumbled, "If creatures roam the darkness, undead forms with glowing eyes, no tribe stands a chance alone. That terror might unite folk better than any speech."

Brusha inhaled slowly. "We must protect the children. If we march, we must shield them behind sturdy warriors and spearwives. Keep them safe as we travel. If other tribes see we guard our young fiercely, they might respect that, perhaps trust we are not raiders but protectors."

Drugger nodded again. "The wargs can scout. They can find paths less likely to lead us into ambushes. We must move slowly, and carefully. No reckless plunges into unknown forests. Step by step, we head south, sending envoys ahead to avoid any unexpected events."

Styr stood silent for a moment, taking in every voice being thrown out, then said, "You spin a fine tale. A grand host of Free Folk marching south, forging alliances, standing against shadowy foes. It sounds like a child's dream... Maybe it is?" As he stares at Yoriichi "But what if those tribes refuse? What if every last one turns you away? You'll have moved from a familiar place into a realm of enemies. Then where will your grand vision be?"

Yoriichi answered, "If they all refuse, then at least we tried. Better to risk change than starve here. But I do not think they will all refuse. Hunger spares no one. If we offer a chance at survival in numbers, some will listen. If even one tribe joins us, we grow stronger. That strength might persuade others. Think of it as a snowball rolling downhill, the more it rolls the more snow it picks up, larger and stronger, and finally when it lands it's many times larger and stronger than when it first started."

Hargar managed a small grin at that image. Brusha relaxed her shoulders slightly. Drugger's posture straightened as if he imagined a future with many scouts and wargs working together over new lands. Odin gave his son a look of respect and pride.

Styr, however, remained guarded. "Fine words, boy. But fine words mean nothing without weapons and teeth behind them. If I consider joining, I must know I'm not walking into a trap I also need to know who would lead. How do I know you won't turn on the Thenns once you find greater allies?"

Yoriichi spread his hands, palms up. But with real sincerity "If you abide by our rule of no eating people and seriously lend your warriors to defend everyone the same, we have no reason to turn on you. From you, we gain your discipline and forging skills. We want you as allies, not enemies. But if you betray us, if you threaten our own, we will not hesitate to fight back. Unity does not mean blindness."

Odin nodded firmly, backing up Yoriichi's words. "We hold you to the same standard as everyone else. Harm us, and we respond in kind. Fight beside us, share what we hunt, and no harm comes to you."

Brusha cleared her throat, addressing Styr as well. "You asked who leads? We are Free Folk. No one wears a crown. Yoriichi offers guidance, Odin can guide hunters, I can marshal spearwives, Drugger coordinates scouts, and Hargar aids in crafting. Even you, Magnar, can hold a respected place if you choose. A council of chiefs, working together. No single ruler."

Drugger spoke quietly, "A group of equals. Think of it as a shield wall those southerners call it, each chief stands shoulder to shoulder, each tribe lending its strength. Alone, a single shield is easily overrun. Combined, they form a barrier that nothing can break without great cost."

Outside, a gust of wind rattled the tent walls, reminding them of the unforgiving world waiting outside. The soft light of the fire flickered, making shadows dance across the chiefs' faces. Ygritte shifted at the edge, eyes bright, absorbing every word.

Styr finally stepped back, neither agreeing nor refusing. "You dream big, boy," he said to Yoriichi. "I will not give you an answer now. The Thenns will watch and wait. Perhaps we join, perhaps we remain where we are. But if you become weak, if your promises turn hollow, do not expect mercy."

"I expect no mercy from anyone," Yoriichi replied softly. "But I believe we can find common ground because it benefits us all. If not now, then soon, as we move. Hunger and fear can break men apart or force them together. I hope to choose the latter."

Hargar stood, stretching his legs. "We have much to do. We must prepare envoys, decide what gifts we carry, and map a route. If we linger, we only lose more time."

Drugger nodded. "I will send wargs out tomorrow at first light. They will search for safe passes."

Brusha reached toward Ygritte, pulling the girl into the tent now that the initial fury had cooled. "We will train the young and the spearwives even harder. Discipline will ensure no raiders catch us by surprise. And the children must see we are moving toward hope, not despair."

Odin crossed his arms over his chest, standing behind Yoriichi. "Then we have a plan. Prepare to move. Attempt alliance. Offer peace. Defend ourselves if need be. And stand together against whatever lurks beyond the snowdrifts."

Yoriichi let out a slow breath. The hardest part lay ahead of turning words into reality. "We must remain vigilant. If the vanished traders' tales are true, if unnatural things roam these wastes, we'll need every ally we can muster. No tribe can face such horrors alone. I hope that they are as killable as we are."

A hush fell. Thoughts of walking corpses or silent shapes prowling the tundra weighed on everyone's mind, even Styr's. No one wanted to speak openly of it as if voicing fear would summon beasts into the firelight. Yet it remained, a gnawing dread, urging them forward out of these dead lands.

After a few moments, the chiefs drifted apart, each thinking of the tasks to come. Brusha escorted Ygritte out into the night, whispering instructions. Drugger stepped aside with one of his scouts, already discussing routes and vantage points. Hargar muttered about tools and gifts to present to potential allies. Odin placed a heavy hand on Yoriichi's shoulder, giving a firm squeeze that said much without words just pride, trust, and a hint of worry.

Styr lingered a moment longer, watching Yoriichi as if trying to decipher a puzzle. The Magnar said nothing more, but his silence carried a warning and perhaps a grudging respect. Then he too left, furs sweeping behind him as he disappeared into the dark. Carrying his massive great-axe over his shoulder.

Yoriichi stood alone by the dying fire, the tent emptying around him. A quiet resolve settled in his chest. Moving south would be risky, forging alliances uncertain, and the threat of mysterious forces human or otherwise loomed. Yet doing nothing guaranteed failure. He had cast the first stone into still waters, and now the ripples would spread.