Chapter 209: The Free Folk’s Choice

Chapter 209: Chapter 209: The Free Folk’s Choice

The Flying Carpet soared through the grey sky, cutting through the biting wind. Below them, the frozen landscape stretched endlessly—snow-covered plains, jagged mountains, and the distant glimmer of frozen lakes.

Samwell looked at Jacob and said, "Your Grace, that crater you created with your fire—it’s filled with dragonglass. I think we should mine it. It can kill White Walkers."

Jacob nodded. "Oh, I forgot about that. Sure, we can come back and get it later. And I can always create more with my fire—or we can go to Dragonstone and get it. That island is empty right now, and it’s filled with dragonglass."

Stiles asked, "How big is the army of the dead anyway?"

Jon said, "Maybe sixty thousand or so."

Benjen shook his head. "No, more. There are more than a hundred thousand. Or even more."

Jacob said, "Actually, there are probably millions of them. I mean, the Night King has been trapped for eight thousand years beyond the Wall. Think about how many White Walkers and how many wights he has by now." He paused. "It should be millions."

Samwell, Edd, Jon, Benjen, Bran, and Meera thought about that. They looked at each other and saw the shock and fear in each other’s eyes.

Stiles, however, smiled. "The more the merrier, I guess. I’ll ask Cogman to make me a machine gun that shoots dragonglass bullets, or..." He looked at Jacob and begged, "Can you please give me a Spartan Laser? Or your energy machine gun?"

Jacob shook his head. "You can’t have a Spartan Laser. I only have ten, and I’ve already given five to my wives." He paused. "As for the machine gun, I’ll lend it to you to play with when we face the army of the dead."

Stiles pointed at him. "Remember what you said. Don’t go back on your word."

Jacob smiled. "I won’t."

Stiles looked at Tormund. "By the way, Firebeard, why do they call you Giantsbane?"

Tormund smirked. "Firebeard? I like it." He puffed out his chest. "As for why they call me Giantsbane? I killed a giant when I was ten. Then I climbed right into bed with his wife. When she woke up, you know what she did?"

Stiles leaned in. "What did she do?"

Tormund’s grin widened. "Suckled me at her teat for three months. She thought I was her baby." He laughed. "That’s how I got so strong—giant’s milk."

Everyone laughed.

Stiles shook his head. "That’s a lie. But it is a good origin story."

Jacob smirked. "I think only the part about him killing a giant is a lie. I think he was kidnapped by a giant and was forcibly nursed by her as her baby."

Tormund’s eyes went wide. "How did you know, Your Grace?"

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "So I guessed right?"

Tormund stammered, "N-no... that’s not... what happened..."

Jon laughed. "So that’s how you really got your name? I should’ve known, because you like to make up stories." He looked at everyone who was smiling. "He once told me he slept with a she-bear."

Everyone burst out laughing.

After the laughter stopped, Jacob asked, "By the way, Tormund, what does a female giant look like?"

Tormund shrugged. "Female giants look very similar to male giants—massive, with beards and rough, deep voices. You can’t tell if they’re females or not."

Jacob sighed dramatically. "That’s a disappointment."

Stiles grinned. "Were you hoping to marry one if they were beautiful?"

Jacob nodded. "To be honest, yeah." He sighed again. "But there’s no such good thing."

Allison and Sansa just rolled their eyes and said nothing.

Malia asked, "Jay, can we go gather some animals—like mammoths—to take to Serendell after your talk with Tormund’s people?"

Jacob nodded. "Sure. We’ll also look for giants."

---

They kept talking until they reached Hardhome and landed on a frozen mountain overlooking the Free Folk settlement.

Jacob stored the Flying Carpet in his pocket dimension and joined the others in looking at Hardhome.

Nestled along a frozen coastline beneath towering snow-covered mountains, Hardhome was home to nearly one hundred thousand Free Folk. A handful of sturdy wooden longhouses stood among tens of thousands of tents, forming a sprawling temporary city that stretched for miles. Campfires dotted the icy landscape. Crowded docks lined the shore. The surrounding cliffs and grey sea emphasized the harsh beauty of the frozen wilderness the Free Folk called home.

Stiles shivered. "Man, it’s cold out here. Firebeard, how do you guys keep yourselves from freezing to death living in a place like this?"

Tormund smirked. "Out here, you got to keep moving. That’s the secret." He winked. "Walking is good. Fighting is better. And fucking is best."

Sansa’s voice was sharp. "Hey, we have kids with us. So mind what you say, Tormund."

Tormund looked at Arya, Bran, Meera, and Rickon. "When I was their age, I was already—"

Sansa cut him off. "If you finish that sentence, I swear I will push you from this cliff."

Tormund raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, I’ll shut up, Your Grace."

Jacob said, "Okay, let’s go."

He teleported everyone to the shore of Hardhome.

---

The Free Folk who were there were confused by the sudden appearance of Jacob and his people—and three direwolves. They started gathering around them, looking at them with hostility.

Jacob, his wives, Arya and Stiles didn’t care about the unfriendly stares, but Jon and the others were nervous.

Especially Tormund. He looked at Jacob and said, "Your Grace, please don’t mind them. They hate crows and southerners. We were enemies for thousands of years." He swallowed. "So please don’t kill them. At least let me talk to them first."

Jacob waved a hand. "Don’t worry. I’m not a murdering maniac. I came here to recruit these people, not to kill them."

Tormund nodded. "Follow me."

He walked ahead, and Jacob and the others followed. The Free Folk recognized Tormund and gave way.

They kept walking until they heard a whistle. The people in the front started moving aside as a man wearing a giant skull helmet, leading a few people, appeared and walked toward them.

Tormund walked to him and greeted him. "Lord of Bones. Been a long time."

Lord of Bones looked from Tormund to Jon and said, "Last time I saw you, the little crow was your prisoner." He turned back to Tormund. "The other way around now. What happened?"

Tormund shrugged. "War."

Lord of Bones scoffed. "War? You call that a war? The greatest army the North has ever seen cut to pieces by some southern king."

Tormund said, "We should gather the elders and find somewhere quiet to talk."

Lord of Bones said, "You don’t give the orders here."

Tormund’s voice was firm. "I’m not giving an order."

Lord of Bones looked him up and down. "Why aren’t you in chains?"

Tormund said, "Because I’m not a prisoner."

Lord of Bones said, "No? Then what are you?"

Tormund met his eyes. "I’m a free man."

Lord of Bones looked at Jon. "Then why did you bring these crows with you?" Then he looked at Jacob. "And who is the pretty boy?"

Tormund said, "He is my king."

Lord of Bones’s eyes widened. "You fucking traitor. You fight for southern kings now? And you’re friends with the crows?"

Tormund took a step forward and met his eyes. "I’m no traitor. And you better get out of the way."

Lord of Bones started tapping Tormund on the chest with a staff topped with an animal skull. "Did you get down on your knees and suck the cock of your pretty king—"

Tormund had enough. He snatched the staff from Lord of Bones and started beating him with it brutally until he killed him.

Then he threw the staff aside, looked at the Free Folk who were watching, and said, "Gather the elders. Let’s talk."

He walked away, and Jacob and the others followed him.

Jacob said, "Quick thinking, Tormund. If you hadn’t killed him, Malia would have. And things could have turned ugly very quickly."

Stiles asked, "Why didn’t the people around stop you from killing him?"

Jacob answered, "Free Folk culture dictates that fights remain strictly between the individuals involved."

Tormund added, "And no one liked him. He was a treacherous, bloodthirsty bastard."

---

Tormund led the way through the camp. The Free Folk stared at the newcomers with curiosity and wariness but didn’t stop them. He led them to a large, driftwood longhouse where they waited for the clan leaders.

Soon, the clan leaders arrived. There were about twenty of them—men and women. They gathered around a fire, sitting on rocks and frozen logs, or simply standing, their eyes fixed on Jacob.

A woman with dark hair named Karsi looked at Jacob and his wives, then at Brienne, then at the others, before turning to Tormund. "Tormund, who are these people?"

Tormund pointed at Jacob. "This is my new king. And his... people."

Karsi’s voice was flat. "So it is true. You bent the knee to a southern king."

Tormund shook his head. "He is my king. But I didn’t bend the knee or anything like that. I just chose to follow him."

Karsi looked at Jacob, her voice unwelcoming. "So, little boy, why are you here? Do you want us to kneel to you and follow you as our king?"

Jacob shook his head. "I don’t want you to kneel to me. But I do want you to swear allegiance to me as your king. I want you to become my people. Not my slaves."

He held up his hand, cutting her off before she could reply.

"First, listen to what I have to say. I will bring you south of the Wall. All of you. The fighters, the women, the children, the old. No one is left behind."

The clan leaders shifted uncomfortably. Some looked skeptical. Others looked hopeful.

"I will give you good land. Land with trees and rivers and game. Land that isn’t frozen. You will have food, warmth, and safety. Your children will go to schools. They will learn to read and write. They will become traders, craftsmen, healers, or whatever they want—not just warriors who die young."

A murmur rippled through the group.

"You can build your own city—a city in my kingdom. And you can keep your traditions, as long as you follow my laws and don’t hurt other people. There will be no raiding other cities. No fighting with other people from my kingdom. The moment you decide to join me, you all become my people. I don’t care if you were southerners before or Free Folk or from wherever. You will all become fellow countrymen in my kingdom."

Karsi’s voice was sharp. "And what do you get out of this? No one gives something for nothing."

Jacob met her eyes. "Like I said, I get your allegiance. You will call me your king. Your warriors will become my warriors and will fight my wars when I need them to. That is all I ask."

Another clan leader—a bald man with scars covering his head and cheeks—spoke up. His name was Loboda, and he was the leader of a clan called the Thenn. "And if we say no? What then?"

Jacob shrugged. "Then you stay here. You freeze. You starve. Your children die of cold and hunger. The Night King comes, and you become part of his army." His voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "I won’t force you. I won’t threaten you. I’ll simply leave you to your fate. You see, I don’t need you. I just think it’s fun to create a kingdom. And since you guys are miserable and would die if you stay here, I thought of doing a good deed and saving you."

The clan leaders didn’t like that. They all got angry. One of them—tall with a red beard—said, "We don’t need saving, especially from a southern little twat like you."

Jacob stared down the clan leaders, letting his gaze linger on each of them. "Don’t let your pride turn you into fools. The Night King doesn’t care about lines on a map or who wronged who a thousand years ago. I know your people have bled. The south has bled too. But this isn’t about the hatred between southerners and Free Folk—that hatred won’t bring the dead back to life, no matter how tightly you cling to it." His voice hardened. "This is about your children."

Loboda said, "We are Free Folk. We will die as Free Folk. And so will our children. We will not follow a southern king."

Jacob ignored him and looked at the others. "Don’t choose your so-called freedom over the lives of your sons and daughters. That hollow concept of freedom you’re so proud of won’t mean a damn thing when you’re all mindless puppets in the army of the dead."

Tormund stepped forward. "I know you don’t trust southerners. I know you don’t trust kings. But this man isn’t a southerner. He is not from Westeros. And when he said he doesn’t need you, he means it. I’ve seen what he and his people can do." He looked around at the clan leaders. "I saw him turn a thousand men into ash without breaking a sweat. I saw his wives and his people fight the southern king Stannis and his army—the same army that destroyed ours. And you know what? They won that war. In fact, they slaughtered Stannis and his army. And there were only nine of them and a cat against an army of thousands. A cat that talks like a person, by the way." He pointed at Kitty on Malia’s shoulder. "Her. She is stronger than a thousand men."

The clan leaders looked at Kitty. She waved at them and said, "Hi."

They were all stunned.

Tormund continued, "Did you guys hear a loud thundering sound yesterday and see a bright light?"

Karsi said, "We heard and saw the light. What about it?"

Tormund pointed at Jacob. "It was him who caused it. He turned into a dragon and fought a giant tree monster. He burned it, causing that light and thunderous sound, and created a hole in the earth a mile wide."

Tormund let that sink in. They didn’t believe him—and he knew it. Something like that needed to be witnessed to be believed. But they had also seen the cat talk, so they didn’t think he was lying either. They just thought he was exaggerating.

Tormund looked at all the clan leaders one by one. "He’s not like the others. He doesn’t want to rule you like cattle. He wants to give you something you’ve never had. A home. A future. A chance to live without fear."

Loboda looked at Tormund and asked, "Where is Mance?"

Tormund said, "He died."

Loboda demanded, "How?"

Jon stepped forward. "I put an arrow through his heart."

Almost all the clan leaders stood and raised their weapons, shouting to kill Jon. The giant Wun Wun was growling too.

Tormund stepped in front of Jon, holding up both hands. "Hey, hey, hey! Stop for a second!"

Loboda snarled, "I say we kill them all, starting with the crows first."

Tormund’s voice was cold. "Loboda, say you want to kill my king one more time, and I promise you—you will die." He looked at the others. "Calm down, everyone, and hear me out. None of you saw Mance die. I did."

Everyone finally calmed down and listened.

Tormund continued, "The southern king who broke our army—Stannis—wanted to burn him alive to send us a message." He pointed at Jon. "Jon Snow defied that cunt’s orders. His arrow was mercy. What he did took courage. And that’s what we need today—the courage to make peace with men we’ve been killing for generations and choose a better future for our people."

Karsi’s voice was tight. "I lost my father, my uncle, and two brothers fighting the damn crows."

Jon said, "We’re not asking you to forget your dead. I’ll never forget mine. I lost fifty brothers the night Mance attacked the Wall. But we’re asking you to think about your children now. They’ll never have children of their own if you don’t stop being stubborn and accept King Jacob’s offer. The Long Night is coming, and the dead come with it. You and your people can’t survive them. And believe me, King Jacob doesn’t need you at all. You are the ones who need him."

Karsi thought for a moment, then looked at Tormund. "You trust this king, Tormund?"

Tormund chuckled. "He’s prettier than both my daughters."

Karsi looked at Jacob and smirked.

Jacob didn’t care—or rather, he was smiling, thinking Tormund was praising his beauty.

Tormund continued, "But he is a man I admire. He’s young, but he is a real king. He is very good to his people and very cruel to his enemies. He didn’t have to come to Hardhome. He came because he wanted us to join his kingdom and be his people. But make no mistake—he doesn’t need us. We do. And after what I’ve seen since I met him, we really need him. Because there are far scarier things out there than the Night King and his army."

Another clan leader spoke up. "You said he can turn into a dragon?"

Tormund nodded. "Aye. I’ve seen it. And he has two more dragons. One of them is big enough that a mammoth could fit entirely inside her jaws with room to spare. And each of her teeth is almost the size of a human."

Another clan leader asked, his voice skeptical, "And that giant hole in the earth you said he made? Is it real?"

Tormund grinned. "It’s real. And I’ll tell you something else—the crater is filled with dragonglass. We were talking about going there and collecting it for weapons. There’s enough there to arm every man, woman, and child in the North, with a lot to spare."

The clan leaders exchanged glances. Dragonglass was invaluable against the White Walkers. A crater filled with it was a treasure beyond measure.

Loboda said, "My ancestors would spit on me if I broke bread with a crow and followed a stranger as a king."

Karsi said, "So would mine. But fuck ’em. They’re dead." She walked to Jon and looked him in the eyes. Then she looked at Benjen and Edd. "I’ll never trust a man in black."

Then she walked to Tormund, stood by his side, and looked at Jacob. "But I trust you, Tormund. If you say this is the way, we’re with you."

Tormund looked around and said, "This is the way."

The clan leader with the red beard said, "I’m with Tormund. We stay here, we’re dead men. At least with the young king, there’s a chance."

The giant Wun Wun rumbled, "Tormund."

Loboda walked to Jacob. "Keep that new life you want to give us, little king." He looked around at the clan leaders. "As soon as you get on his ships, they’re gonna slit your throats and dump your bodies to the bottom of the Shivering Sea."

He pointed at Jon, Benjen, and Edd with his axe. "They are our enemy. Them and southerners have always been our enemy."

Then he walked past Jacob to leave. A few clan leaders followed him.

Karsi muttered, "I hate Thenns."

Allison looked at Jacob. "Maybe if you show them a little bit of your strength, they’ll follow you."

Jacob shook his head. "No. Let them leave. To tell you the truth, I was hoping that bold guy and his clan would refuse to join me."

Sansa asked, "Why?"

Jacob’s voice was cold. "Because the Thenns are brutal cannibals who feast on the flesh of their fallen enemies."

Malia asked, "Should we kill them then?"

Jacob shrugged. "Nah. Let them be. They won’t survive out here on their own anyway."

Karsi said, "We are willing to follow you. But can you prove what Tormund said? Can you show us your powers?"

Jacob’s eyes glowed red. He let out a controlled burst of his Conqueror’s Haki aimed at the clan leaders—not enough to knock them out, but enough to make them feel it. They felt an overwhelming pressure. Their hearts raced with primal terror.

Then he waved his hand. A giant, life-like fire serpent appeared, hissing at them, the heat so intense that sweat dripped from their faces before the serpent vanished.

Jacob looked at them with his glowing red eyes and intensified his Conqueror’s Haki slightly—still not enough to knock them out, but enough to make them truly understand.

"Is this enough?" he asked, his voice calm and cold.

All the clan leaders fell to their knees.

Karsi looked at Jacob in terror and said with difficulty, "It’s enough, my... king."

Jacob restrained his haki and helped Karsi up. "Good. Those who want to follow me and become my people, go gather your clans and pack your things. We will leave once you’re ready."

The rest of the clan leaders stood up, and along with Karsi, they all swore allegiance to Jacob—that as long as he kept his word and took care of their children, women, and non-combatants, they would never betray him and would fight for him.

Then they went to gather their clans and pack their things.

Tormund went with them to gather his own clan as well. When they were outside the longhouse, Karsi asked, "Where are his ships?"

Tormund smiled mysteriously. "We won’t be needing ships. You’ll see."

To be continued... 😊

if you like this story and want to support me please go to:

patreon*com/Ayoub_AMZ926

40 Chapters ahead of webnovel