When last we saw Jon snow, he was forced to "betray" the Night's Watch by murdering Qhorin Halfhand and defecting to the Free People AKA Wildings. But this betrayal was actually orded by Qhorin. Jon Snow must now become a double agent -- pretending to join the Wildlings while simultaniously still being loyal to the Watch. Matters are complicated by the fact that:
Rattleshirt: Well Jon Snow, how do you feel about me taking your friend Qhorin's bones? I'm wearing them now as part of my outfit. Perhaps that makes you angry. Very, very angry?
Jon: *seething on the inside* No, no of course not, Lord of Bones. I'm totally fine with that.
Rattleshirt: HA! No you're not. You might be fooling everyone else, but you're not fooling me. And you won't fool Mance. As soon as you get to him, he'll see right through you and order you to be executed.
Ygritte: No way, Rattleshirt! Ol' Mance will take Jon in. No question. As soon as he hears that Jon here killed the Halfhand... he'll know he's one of us Free Folk now!
Jon: Free Folk, huh? So you're all really free?
Ygritte: Yeah.
Jon: Then why do you have a king?
Ygritte: I dunno. I only have the vaguest notion of how social contract theory works.
Jon: But let's say I decide to leave. That means I'm free to do so?
Ygritte: Sure you will.
Jon: Oh, sweet.
Ygritte: And we'll also be free to kill you.
Jon: Ah, I see how this works now.
Ygritte: You're also free to do other things. You know. If you want.
Ygritte puts her hand on his thigh.
Ygritte: And by that, I mean we can fuck.
Jon: Oh, I got it. Trust me. I got it.
As they get to the bottom of the hill, they meet another one of the Free Folk...
Weeper: Hi. I'm the Weeper. I carry around a bit scythe.
Jon: You mean like the Grim REAPER?
Weeper: Right. Except it's "Weeper," not "Reaper."
Jon: So basically, you're the Grim Reaper with a speech impediment?
Weeper: SHUT UP, WARG!
Jon: Do I have to remember who you are?
Weeper: Not really.
And so Jon continues into the large camp of the Free Folk. There seem to be no fortifications or organization like a war camp in Westeros. It's just a bunch of random tents in random places. But that's what you get with freedom, I guess.
Jon is led into the big tent in the middle, which clearly must belong to the King Beyond the Wall. Ygritte and Rattleshirt follow him in.
Jon: Hrm. There are a bunch of people in the tent. But which one is Mance Rayder? There are like 40 new characters being introduced here. There is some pregnant woman. Some giant bald guy without ears. A lute player. Some dude who looks sort of like Santa Claus.
The giant bald guy turns around and looks at Jon.
Bald, Earless Guy: Who the fuck are you?
Jon kneels down in front of him.
Jon: Sorry for interrupting you, your grace.
Everyone in the tent gets quiet for a second. And then they burst into laughter.
Santa-Looking Guy: AH-hahahaha. Oh MAN. I can't believe you thought that was Mance. That's just Styr, the Magnar of Thenn.
Jon: What the hell is a Magnar of Thenn?
Styr: It's the title held by the leader of the Thenns, a tribe of free folk from the Thenn valley beyond the Wall. It roughly translates to, "lord." So I'm the lord of the Thenn tribe.
Jon: Oh. Why didn't you just say that then? And who the fuck is Santa Claus here. Are YOU Mance Rayder?
Santa-Looking Guy: No! For I am Tormund Giantsbane, Tall-talker, Horn-blower, Breaker of Ice, Tormund Thunderfist, Husband to Bears, the Mead-king of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods, and Father of Hosts.
Jon: First of all, that's waaaaay too many nicknames. Second - HOLY SHIT! In the books Tormund looks like Santa Claus? Tormund is a fat, shortish, jolly, old man with a white beard?
Tormund: Yes.
Jon: I... I... I can't deal with this. Here. Give me a minute.
Jon grabs Tormund, puts him on a treadmill to lose a bunch of weight, puts some stilts in his shoes to make him taller, dyes his hair red, and injects botox into him to make him look a little younger.
Jon: There. Much better.
Tormund: Thanks?
Jon: And why do they call you "Husband to Bears?"
Tormund: Because I fuck bears.
Jon: Ah, well I suppose that makes sense. So who the fuck is Mance Rayder if neither of you? Is that pregnant woman Mance Rayder? That would actually be pretty progressive. Sweet god, tell me it's not the fucking lute player.
Lute Player: Yes. I'm Mance Rayder.
Jon: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccck.
Mance: And you are Ned Stark's bastard son.
Jon: WHAT? How the hell do you know who I am?
Mance: I hear you slew the Halfhand. Is it true?
Jon: Uh... yep.
Mance: You know, the Halfhand was my enemy... but he was also my friend. Before I left the Watch he and him were buddies. But after, we were at war. So tell me... what should I do with you, Jon Snow? Should I thank you for killing my enemy... or curse you for killing my friend?
Jon: Why not both?
Tormund: DING DING DING! Right answer!
Mance: Indeed. So Jon Snow, tell me about the rest of your party. How did a boy from Castle Black come to be with a party of rangers from the Shadow Tower?
Jon wonders how he should answer. Should he lie to protect the motives of the Watch? Or should he tell the truth, to further go undercover and earn the trust of the Free Folk. He decides to lie.
Jon: Oh, you know. Lord Mormont just sent me out for seasoning.
Styr: *cough*BULLSHIT*cough*
Mance: And how is it that my men found you on the Skirling Pass? If you were just out for seasoning, then how is it that you coincidentally wound up by the high ground by our secret gathering location?
Tormund: I bet that punk ass Craster sold us out and told him where we were at!
Mance: *sigh* Damn it guys, I know that. It's obvious that Jon was lying and that the Watch are coming for us. It's obvious that Craster told them were to find us. But I didn't want YOU to tell me that. I wanted to see if Jon was going to tell us himself.
Tormund: Oh. Sorry. Uhm. I guess we should just leave then and let you interrogate him alone, huh?
Mance nods. Everyone else leaves. On the way out, Tormund grabs a whole chicken off of Mance's rotisserie grill and sticks it in his pocket. BECAUSE CHICKEN IS DELICIOUS.
Jon: Weird. Who has pockets big enough to stick whole roasted chickens into?
Pregnant Woman: Not me... right? Hahaha, I mean women's pockets are so small! Completely nonfunctional. Just for decoration. WHY?! WHY CAN'T WOMEN GET WORKING POCKETS?!
Other Women in the Room: Amen, sister!
They all high five and nod their heads.
Mance: Oh, that's my wife by the way, Della.
Jon: Oh, hi Della.
Della: Hi.
Jon: So are YOU important in the books?
Della: Slightly more important than in the show, yes. Readers should pay attention to the fact that I am pregnant, as this will be important going forward.
Jon: Cool. So Mance, all this food I see is making me hungry. Can I have some bread or something?
Mance: Sure.
Jon grabs some bread and eats it.
Jon: SWEET! I just broke bread with Mance. It's a Westeros tradition that means now he can't kill me while I'm his guest. It would be literally IMPOSSIBLE to kill someone after breaking bread with them.
Mance: I wasn't planning on killing you anyway, so it's odd that you're suddenly focusing on that factoid.
Jon: Yes. Odd indeed. Almost as if the concept of breaking the bond of bread and guest rights will be important later in this book. ANYWAY... Mance, you never told me how you knew who I was.
Mance: Oh, it's because I've seen you twice before.
Jon: Neat-o. When?
Mance: Remember when you and Robb were boys and you were building a giant mountain of snow above one of the gates to Winterfell? You were going to knock it over on the next person who walked through the gate as a hilarious prank?
Jon: Oh yeah. That was HILARIOUS! Oh shit... wait... YOU! I remember. You're that guy who caught us in the middle of planning our prank. We thought we were done for and that you were going to tell our father about it! But instead you were like, "Nah kids. That's hilarious. I ain't no snitch!"
Mance: Yes. That's right. Snitches get stitches.
Jon: Right. Or put in ditches. WOW. I can't believe that was you. And you remembered what I looked like after all these years?
Mance: Not really. Remember, I said I've seen you twice. The second time was not that long ago... and again, I was in Winterfell. When your King from the South, Robert, came to visit Winterfell.
Jon: You gotta be shitting me. Really?
Mance: Yes. I wanted to size up this King with my own eyes. So I came south, disguised as... a lute player!
Jon: Oh. Lame.
Mance: WHAT?
Jon: I mean it's sort of lame. A lute player?
Mance: It's like that famous tale. Bael the Bard. The Lute-Playing King Beyond the Wall.
Jon: Oh, I get it. I get it. It's just lame. Also, I feel like this plot development wasn't pre-planned ahead of time. I feel like if this was part of GRRM's master plan from the beginning, he would have made more of a big deal about some lute player in my first POV chapter.
Mance: What? No! Surely I'm a big deal.
Jon: If you say so.
Mance: So kid, what made you decide to betray the Watch?
Jon thinks again. How he answers this question will be very important.
Jon: You tell me your reason and I'll tell you mind.
Mance: Ah, kind of weird that I hold life and death over your shoulders and you're still talking to me like that, but I'll bite. I didn't leave for a crown or for a woman like some romantic song would make people think. I left because of a convoluted story involving a silk mending made to my coat and an epiphany about how the silk mending, which was against Night's Watch dress code, represented freedom.
Jon: You know what? On second thought I don't want to hear your story if it's that convoluted. I'll just tell you my reason. If you were REALLY there the night King Robert feasted at Winterfell... then you'll remember where my brothers are sisters were seated. And then you'll remember where I was seated.
Mance: Oh yeah, I remember where you were at. You were SHIT FACED and LOUD AS FUCK. Everyone noticed your rowdy ass.
Jon: Yeah, that's not the point. The point is... I'm a bastard. And I'll always be treated like a bastard by the laws of my people. I'll always be a second-class citizen. Even in the Watch. Here, among the Free Folk... you don't care about that kind of shit. I can be my own man.
Mance: Haha, fuck yeah! That's a great answer, Jon Snow. High Five! And welcome to the Free Folk! You're going to want to get a new cloak though. That black shit don't fly here. You might want to get a cloak with some nice, pretty, vibrant silk mending.
Jon: Dude, I do not need to hear about this weird silk fetish of yours.
a) there is this really cute Wildling girl named Ygritte that seems to want to have all types of sex with him, andJon descends with his new Wildling "allies" to their camp below. There, he plans to meet the King Beyond the Wall, Mance Rayder.
b) there is this really annoying Wildling guy named the Lord O' Bones AKA Rattleshirt that is not buying this Jon Snow defection for one minute and wants to kill him.
Rattleshirt: Well Jon Snow, how do you feel about me taking your friend Qhorin's bones? I'm wearing them now as part of my outfit. Perhaps that makes you angry. Very, very angry?
Jon: *seething on the inside* No, no of course not, Lord of Bones. I'm totally fine with that.
Rattleshirt: HA! No you're not. You might be fooling everyone else, but you're not fooling me. And you won't fool Mance. As soon as you get to him, he'll see right through you and order you to be executed.
Ygritte: No way, Rattleshirt! Ol' Mance will take Jon in. No question. As soon as he hears that Jon here killed the Halfhand... he'll know he's one of us Free Folk now!
Jon: Free Folk, huh? So you're all really free?
Ygritte: Yeah.
Jon: Then why do you have a king?
Ygritte: I dunno. I only have the vaguest notion of how social contract theory works.
Jon: But let's say I decide to leave. That means I'm free to do so?
Ygritte: Sure you will.
Jon: Oh, sweet.
Ygritte: And we'll also be free to kill you.
Jon: Ah, I see how this works now.
Ygritte: You're also free to do other things. You know. If you want.
Ygritte puts her hand on his thigh.
Ygritte: And by that, I mean we can fuck.
Jon: Oh, I got it. Trust me. I got it.
As they get to the bottom of the hill, they meet another one of the Free Folk...
Weeper: Hi. I'm the Weeper. I carry around a bit scythe.
Jon: You mean like the Grim REAPER?
Weeper: Right. Except it's "Weeper," not "Reaper."
Jon: So basically, you're the Grim Reaper with a speech impediment?
Weeper: SHUT UP, WARG!
Jon: Do I have to remember who you are?
Weeper: Not really.
And so Jon continues into the large camp of the Free Folk. There seem to be no fortifications or organization like a war camp in Westeros. It's just a bunch of random tents in random places. But that's what you get with freedom, I guess.
Jon is led into the big tent in the middle, which clearly must belong to the King Beyond the Wall. Ygritte and Rattleshirt follow him in.
Jon: Hrm. There are a bunch of people in the tent. But which one is Mance Rayder? There are like 40 new characters being introduced here. There is some pregnant woman. Some giant bald guy without ears. A lute player. Some dude who looks sort of like Santa Claus.
The giant bald guy turns around and looks at Jon.
Bald, Earless Guy: Who the fuck are you?
Jon kneels down in front of him.
Jon: Sorry for interrupting you, your grace.
Everyone in the tent gets quiet for a second. And then they burst into laughter.
Santa-Looking Guy: AH-hahahaha. Oh MAN. I can't believe you thought that was Mance. That's just Styr, the Magnar of Thenn.
Jon: What the hell is a Magnar of Thenn?
Styr: It's the title held by the leader of the Thenns, a tribe of free folk from the Thenn valley beyond the Wall. It roughly translates to, "lord." So I'm the lord of the Thenn tribe.
Jon: Oh. Why didn't you just say that then? And who the fuck is Santa Claus here. Are YOU Mance Rayder?
Santa-Looking Guy: No! For I am Tormund Giantsbane, Tall-talker, Horn-blower, Breaker of Ice, Tormund Thunderfist, Husband to Bears, the Mead-king of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods, and Father of Hosts.
Jon: First of all, that's waaaaay too many nicknames. Second - HOLY SHIT! In the books Tormund looks like Santa Claus? Tormund is a fat, shortish, jolly, old man with a white beard?
Tormund: Yes.
Jon: I... I... I can't deal with this. Here. Give me a minute.
Jon grabs Tormund, puts him on a treadmill to lose a bunch of weight, puts some stilts in his shoes to make him taller, dyes his hair red, and injects botox into him to make him look a little younger.
Jon: There. Much better.
Tormund: Thanks?
Jon: And why do they call you "Husband to Bears?"
Tormund: Because I fuck bears.
Jon: Ah, well I suppose that makes sense. So who the fuck is Mance Rayder if neither of you? Is that pregnant woman Mance Rayder? That would actually be pretty progressive. Sweet god, tell me it's not the fucking lute player.
Lute Player: Yes. I'm Mance Rayder.
Jon: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccck.
Mance: And you are Ned Stark's bastard son.
Jon: WHAT? How the hell do you know who I am?
Mance: I hear you slew the Halfhand. Is it true?
Jon: Uh... yep.
Mance: You know, the Halfhand was my enemy... but he was also my friend. Before I left the Watch he and him were buddies. But after, we were at war. So tell me... what should I do with you, Jon Snow? Should I thank you for killing my enemy... or curse you for killing my friend?
Jon: Why not both?
Tormund: DING DING DING! Right answer!
Mance: Indeed. So Jon Snow, tell me about the rest of your party. How did a boy from Castle Black come to be with a party of rangers from the Shadow Tower?
Jon wonders how he should answer. Should he lie to protect the motives of the Watch? Or should he tell the truth, to further go undercover and earn the trust of the Free Folk. He decides to lie.
Jon: Oh, you know. Lord Mormont just sent me out for seasoning.
Styr: *cough*BULLSHIT*cough*
Mance: And how is it that my men found you on the Skirling Pass? If you were just out for seasoning, then how is it that you coincidentally wound up by the high ground by our secret gathering location?
Tormund: I bet that punk ass Craster sold us out and told him where we were at!
Mance: *sigh* Damn it guys, I know that. It's obvious that Jon was lying and that the Watch are coming for us. It's obvious that Craster told them were to find us. But I didn't want YOU to tell me that. I wanted to see if Jon was going to tell us himself.
Tormund: Oh. Sorry. Uhm. I guess we should just leave then and let you interrogate him alone, huh?
Mance nods. Everyone else leaves. On the way out, Tormund grabs a whole chicken off of Mance's rotisserie grill and sticks it in his pocket. BECAUSE CHICKEN IS DELICIOUS.
Jon: Weird. Who has pockets big enough to stick whole roasted chickens into?
Pregnant Woman: Not me... right? Hahaha, I mean women's pockets are so small! Completely nonfunctional. Just for decoration. WHY?! WHY CAN'T WOMEN GET WORKING POCKETS?!
Other Women in the Room: Amen, sister!
They all high five and nod their heads.
Mance: Oh, that's my wife by the way, Della.
Jon: Oh, hi Della.
Della: Hi.
Jon: So are YOU important in the books?
Della: Slightly more important than in the show, yes. Readers should pay attention to the fact that I am pregnant, as this will be important going forward.
Jon: Cool. So Mance, all this food I see is making me hungry. Can I have some bread or something?
Mance: Sure.
Jon grabs some bread and eats it.
Jon: SWEET! I just broke bread with Mance. It's a Westeros tradition that means now he can't kill me while I'm his guest. It would be literally IMPOSSIBLE to kill someone after breaking bread with them.
Mance: I wasn't planning on killing you anyway, so it's odd that you're suddenly focusing on that factoid.
Jon: Yes. Odd indeed. Almost as if the concept of breaking the bond of bread and guest rights will be important later in this book. ANYWAY... Mance, you never told me how you knew who I was.
Mance: Oh, it's because I've seen you twice before.
Jon: Neat-o. When?
Mance: Remember when you and Robb were boys and you were building a giant mountain of snow above one of the gates to Winterfell? You were going to knock it over on the next person who walked through the gate as a hilarious prank?
Jon: Oh yeah. That was HILARIOUS! Oh shit... wait... YOU! I remember. You're that guy who caught us in the middle of planning our prank. We thought we were done for and that you were going to tell our father about it! But instead you were like, "Nah kids. That's hilarious. I ain't no snitch!"
Mance: Yes. That's right. Snitches get stitches.
Jon: Right. Or put in ditches. WOW. I can't believe that was you. And you remembered what I looked like after all these years?
Mance: Not really. Remember, I said I've seen you twice. The second time was not that long ago... and again, I was in Winterfell. When your King from the South, Robert, came to visit Winterfell.
Jon: You gotta be shitting me. Really?
Mance: Yes. I wanted to size up this King with my own eyes. So I came south, disguised as... a lute player!
Jon: Oh. Lame.
Mance: WHAT?
Jon: I mean it's sort of lame. A lute player?
Mance: It's like that famous tale. Bael the Bard. The Lute-Playing King Beyond the Wall.
Jon: Oh, I get it. I get it. It's just lame. Also, I feel like this plot development wasn't pre-planned ahead of time. I feel like if this was part of GRRM's master plan from the beginning, he would have made more of a big deal about some lute player in my first POV chapter.
Mance: What? No! Surely I'm a big deal.
Jon: If you say so.
Mance: So kid, what made you decide to betray the Watch?
Jon thinks again. How he answers this question will be very important.
Jon: You tell me your reason and I'll tell you mind.
Mance: Ah, kind of weird that I hold life and death over your shoulders and you're still talking to me like that, but I'll bite. I didn't leave for a crown or for a woman like some romantic song would make people think. I left because of a convoluted story involving a silk mending made to my coat and an epiphany about how the silk mending, which was against Night's Watch dress code, represented freedom.
Jon: You know what? On second thought I don't want to hear your story if it's that convoluted. I'll just tell you my reason. If you were REALLY there the night King Robert feasted at Winterfell... then you'll remember where my brothers are sisters were seated. And then you'll remember where I was seated.
Mance: Oh yeah, I remember where you were at. You were SHIT FACED and LOUD AS FUCK. Everyone noticed your rowdy ass.
Jon: Yeah, that's not the point. The point is... I'm a bastard. And I'll always be treated like a bastard by the laws of my people. I'll always be a second-class citizen. Even in the Watch. Here, among the Free Folk... you don't care about that kind of shit. I can be my own man.
Mance: Haha, fuck yeah! That's a great answer, Jon Snow. High Five! And welcome to the Free Folk! You're going to want to get a new cloak though. That black shit don't fly here. You might want to get a cloak with some nice, pretty, vibrant silk mending.
Jon: Dude, I do not need to hear about this weird silk fetish of yours.
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