Man Of Steel, Shield Of Ice

Clark

The sun was low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the frozen tundra. Snow crunched underfoot as Clark walked alongside Skor and Magnar Styr, the leaders of the Ice River Clan and the Thenns, respectively. Their party moved in a loose formation, eyes constantly scanning the icy expanse for threats. Skor, a wiry man with sharp features and piercing blue eyes, carried himself like a predator—lean, efficient, and always alert. Magnar Styr, by contrast, was a towering figure with a bald head and a face like chiseled granite, exuding a quiet authority that brooked no argument.

Clark had spent the last few weeks working to earn the trust of these leaders and their people. Though he had helped the wildlings in countless ways, from hunting game to constructing shelters, he still felt like an outsider at times. The free folk were fiercely independent, and while they respected strength, they valued loyalty even more.

As they made their way through the barren landscape, Tormund and Ygritte walked a few paces ahead, their voices low but animated. Tormund's booming laugh occasionally echoed over the snow, a stark contrast to Ygritte's quieter, biting remarks. Clark couldn't help but smile at their camaraderie. It was a reminder of why he was here: not just to survive, but to build something greater with these people.

Behind them, the rest of the Ice River Clan and Thenn warriors followed in disciplined silence. Skor's people were known for their uncanny ability to navigate the frozen rivers and treacherous terrain of the far north, while the Thenns marched with a precision that spoke to their martial culture. Together, they formed a formidable force, but uniting them had been no easy task.

Clark glanced at Skor, who was surveying the horizon with a hawk-like intensity. "What do you make of these rumors about Mance Rayder?" he asked, his breath forming small clouds in the frigid air.

Skor didn't look at him. "Mance is a clever man, but cleverness doesn't unite the free folk. Strength does. If he's as strong as they say, we'll see."

Magnar Styr grunted in agreement. "The Thenns have no love for a deserter of the Night's Watch. But if he can unite the clans, we may have no choice but to follow. The Others are coming. Survival demands unity."

Clark nodded thoughtfully. He had heard the whispers, the tales of Mance's growing influence among the wildlings. Though he had yet to meet the man, it was clear that Mance's ambition was a polarizing force. Some saw him as a savior, others as a threat to their independence. Clark, however, saw an opportunity.

"If he's uniting the free folk to fight the Others," Clark said, "then maybe he's exactly what we need. But that doesn't mean we wait for him to act. We're stronger together, and we can't afford to waste time."

Skor shot him a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable. "You speak of unity as if it's a simple thing. The free folk don't bow. Not to Mance, not to you, not to anyone."

Clark met his gaze evenly. "I'm not asking anyone to bow. I'm asking them to stand together. There's a difference."

The corner of Skor's mouth twitched, though whether it was a smile or a sneer, Clark couldn't tell. Magnar Styr, however, gave a single nod of approval.

---

The next morning, the camp awoke to raised voices near the tree line. Clark, already up and scanning the area for supplies, heard the commotion and strode quickly toward it. A crowd had formed, and in the center, two warriors—one from the Ice River Clan and one from the Thenns—stood nose-to-nose, weapons drawn.

"What's going on here?" Clark asked, stepping into the circle.

The Thenn warrior, a stocky man with a scarred face, pointed his blade at the other man. "Caught him near our traps. Stealing game that isn't his!"

The Ice River hunter, wiry and quick, spat on the ground. "I wasn't stealing. If you can't guard your traps, that's your problem."

Clark looked between them, his jaw tightening. These were exactly the kinds of disputes that could tear the alliance apart before it even began.

"Enough!" he said, his voice firm and resonating through the clearing. The crowd fell silent, eyes on him. "We're all fighting to survive. We can't afford to turn on each other over something as small as a trap."

The Ice River hunter crossed his arms. "Easy for you to say. You don't understand what it's like to starve."

Clark stepped closer, meeting his gaze. "You're right. I don't know what it's like to starve. But I do know that fighting each other won't put more food on the table. We're stronger together—if we share our resources and work as a team."

The Thenn warrior sneered. "Words won't fill our bellies."

"Actions will," Clark said. He glanced between the two. "If one clan catches more than they need, they share with the others. In return, we all defend each other against the real threats—like the Others."

The two men exchanged wary looks. Neither seemed entirely convinced, but they lowered their weapons, the tension easing.

"This isn't over," Skor muttered as the crowd began to disperse.

"No," Clark agreed, watching them go. "It's just beginning."

---

Ygritte's POV

The campfire crackled as the group settled in for the night. Ygritte sat close to the flames, the warmth chasing away the day's chill. She watched Clark, seated across from her, as he spoke quietly with Tormund and Styr. He had a way about him, she thought—a presence that made people listen, even when they didn't want to. It wasn't just his size or strength; it was something deeper, something she couldn't quite put into words.

"You're staring again," Tormund said, grinning as he tore a chunk of meat from a bone. "Starting to fancy him, are you?"

Ygritte rolled her eyes. "Don't be daft. I'm just wondering what he's really after. Nobody helps the free folk without wanting something in return."

Tormund chuckled. "Maybe he's different. Not everyone's out for themselves, you know."

"Maybe," Ygritte conceded, though she wasn't entirely convinced. Trust didn't come easily to her, especially not when it came to outsiders. But Clark had been different from the start. He didn't just talk about unity; he acted on it. He worked alongside them, shared their struggles, and never demanded anything in return. It was… unusual.

As the conversation around the fire continued, Ygritte found herself watching Clark again. Maybe Tormund was right. Maybe he was different.

---

Skor's POV

Skor sat in the shadows, his keen eyes observing the camp. The Ice River Clan had always been wary of outsiders, and Clark was no exception. Yet there was something about the man that Skor couldn't ignore. He was strong, yes, but it was more than that. He had a way of bringing people together, of making them believe in something greater.

Still, Skor wasn't ready to trust him completely. Trust had to be earned, and it was a rare commodity among the free folk. The Ice River Clan had survived this long by relying on their own, and Skor wasn't about to change that without good reason.

He glanced at Magnar Styr, who sat near the fire with Clark and Tormund. The Thenn leader was a hard man, disciplined and unyielding. If even Styr was starting to respect Clark, that was saying something.

"What do you see in him?" Skor asked quietly, more to himself than anyone else. He didn't have an answer yet, but he intended to find one.

---

Clark's POV

The next morning, Clark woke early, the camp still shrouded in pre-dawn darkness. He had always needed less sleep than most, and the quiet hours before sunrise were his time to think. As he walked through the camp, he noticed Skor and Styr speaking in low tones near the edge of the river.

"Morning," Clark said as he approached. "Something on your minds?"

Skor looked at him, his expression unreadable. "We're wondering how long this alliance of yours will last. The free folk don't stay united for long."

Clark met his gaze. "It's not my alliance. It's ours. And it'll last as long as we make it last."

Styr nodded slowly. "Words are easy. Actions are harder. If you want us to believe in this unity, you'll have to prove it."

"I intend to," Clark said firmly.

Skor studied him for a moment, then nodded. "We'll see."