The King Beyond the Wall

Dead Snow

The women's hood dropped, revealing shockingly white hair falling well below her this waist messily. Her bow was raised at Jon, her eye contact never failing - forcing intimidation but not receive the response she wanted. But her eyes were brown, her hair covered in snow, her skin wrinkled old.

It was not Dany, it would never be Dany.

Another figure emerged, followed by another, then another. Before Jon could snap himself out his dream he was surrounded by a clan of wildlings.

"What do you want? We are peaceful, hunting with my children. But the gods won't help the man who faces me." Tormands voice comes out a snarl as he stares at each man or women in turn. His axe drawn as he holds his children tight against his body.

"We want the Heda" the old ghost haired crones spoke, her voice a chilling cold wind.

"Heda is a story, nothing but a legend!" Yren shouts back at the white women, who's garb bares broken bones and sacrificial stones. She was wilding seer or a "witch". Yren lost all confidence in his words as the hag stalked toward him with a sinister smile on her face.

"Did your mother tell you tales? Of a giant Wolf? A shape shifting beast? That eats children for supper?" her voice sent shivers down the children's neck like an icy cold blast.

"Careful witch I won't hesitate to remove your head from your shoulders" Tormond warned, everyone on edge, unsure of what was going on.

She continued to tell her tale "My people believe Heda connects us all, they lead all packs, the ultimate Alpha." Her gazes gold on Jon Snow for too long.

"And what? You want help to find him? A make believe children's story" Tormond scoffs in disbelieve.

The old witches eyes stare down Jon Snow still, sending an overwhelming send of unease into his heart.

"You've got the wrong person" is all Jon can manage to say, shaking his head in disagreement. Tormond looks between the two confused, as if you could see the thoughts working like cogs in his head.

"Open your eyes Jon Snow, the North is in danger. We stood together as one clan during the Long Night, but now, people want to live as they used too. Women are kidnapped, raped and toured by the barbaric Mountain Men, the Thenns are cannibals and they are training their young boys - which can only mean they wish to use them in battle. It won't be long until all free folk turn on each other." She is out of breath by the end of her chanting, the men and women surrounding everyone have began to relax and come closer to listen.

"Free Folk! Free Folk!" Jon is practically yelling at the poor women, his frustration is evident. He doesn't want this, he never has.

"They are free folk, they have no command, no leader, no king. Mance Rayder is dead." Jon paces back and forth, hardening the snow underfoot into solid stone.

"Until now." a man steps forward and speaks. He is tall and broad. His face is a messy beard and scars. Jon recognises his familiar face and voice, but cannot place the man. He watches him cautiously as he comes forward into the clearing and faces Jon and Tormond.

"My name is Yonald, you lead us through Castle Black to safety, you gave us land to farm, you have fought for us, spoken for us, and lead us home again. My daughters and sons are alive because of you. They will grow up happy and healthy, having never to know the Wights were more than just stories." When he finishes he exhales, as if he was holding his breath forever. He approaches Jon and they grab each other's forearms, shaking each other in thanks and praise.

Jon hated this feeling, the feeling other men pressed upon him. His actions were the right thing to do, her didn't want praise or thanks, he only wanted to be the man Ned Stark raised him to be. He didn't want the power weaker men pressed upon him, the leadership. 

"If we are willing for you to lead us, others will aswell." the old crone smiled.