Ygritte : Freedom
Most don’t know what it’s like to be free. But, us folk north of the wall, we do. We do what we want, when we want. And if we don’t want to do something, we don’t do it. We decide, each person for him or herself.
Oh, those south of the wall, they think they’re free, but they ain’t! Having to bend the knee to this perfumed lord or that, they blindly accept the notions of some mad king who is only king because his father before him was, even though he don’t truly belong as king, and even though no one truly wants him.
The crows mock us for calling Mance Rayder our King Beyond the Wall, though we are free people. Mance was once a crow too ya know, but like us, he wanted to be free. We chose Mance to lead us. He didn’t go appointing himself. Hundreds and thousands of us free folk chose Mance, and he’s going to lead us all south – south of the wall where it’s warm, and where we will be safe from the cold, dead whitewalkers that have begun hunting again after thousands of years.
Some of the crows have seen those cold blue eyes glowing, and some of the walking dead were once crows themselves. Their own crows were taken by wights and others as they hunted for wildlings to kill. But, the live crows refuse to believe what they see. They refuse to believe us widlings may not be as wild and craven as they always thought. They think we just want their precious property south of the wall. They don’t believe the wights exist any longer, and that the tales are nothing more than ancient, scary stories told by Septons to keep their charges under control.
But, I’ve seen ‘em with me own eyes. Lucky to be alive, I am. Many others aren’t so lucky when the dead come walking. The wights don’t care if your free, crow, highborn, or low. They will claim each just the same when they hunt with their crystal blue eyes, and pale white flesh, and then there are the ones with the hard, cold, black hands. They say if those hands touch you the cold sets in and never leaves. I’ve seen people ripped apart by the dead walkers. But, Mance is going to take us south of the wall where they can’t get us. He says the wall is charmed and will not let the white walkers pass. So long as the wall stands, the south lands are safe, he said. Once we get on the other side of the wall we will be safe.
But, the crows seek to keep up out. They hunt us and kill us. They call us wildlings and say we don’t belong south of the wall because the land belongs to their fancy lords and kings. They say that just because someone threw up a wall so very long ago that the land south of the wall is theirs, and only because they say so. But land can not truly belong to any man, and that we will show them.
We will show them what freedom means, and we will claim what is ours.
No one, not even Jon Snow, Qhorin Halfhand, nor the old maester crow himself will stop us. Mance has a plan, and neither the crows nor the kings fighting south of the wall will be able to stop us. They sorely underestimate the power in our numbers and the determination of the free folk.