Agree

A few hours later, you lead the dragon's queen, your truly, army of Unsullied and Dothraki towards the wildling camp. The cold wind bites at your skin, but it's nothing compared to the heat of the dragons flying above, casting long, ominous shadows on the snow-covered ground. Dany rides alongside you, her eyes glued to the horizon where the campfires of the wildlings burn like distant stars.

"Go back to Jon. Make sure to keep the redhead name Ygritte safe," you whisper to Dany, ensuring she understands the true target of your alliance. She nods slightly, the collar around her neck glinting in the dim light. The plan is simple: while you and your forces deal with the bulk of the wildling threat if necessary, Jon will be distracted by a personal vendetta against Ygritte, leaving the path to the night watch destruction. "I will meet with Mance and secure a bigger **** for my campaign across Westeros."

You fly down toward the large fire, the wildling camp bustling with activity. The smell of roasting meats and unwashed bodies waft through the air. You land your dragon with a thud that sends snow flying into the air. The wildlings scramble, some reaching for their weapons while others fall to their knees in awe.

"Where is the king beyond the wall."

The wildlings part before you like a sea of fur and steel as you dismount your dragon. The creature's snarls and the hiss of steam from its nostrils are enough to make even the bravest among them pause. The wildlings whisper among themselves, unsure of what to make of this unexpected visit from the man with a dragon.

Mance Rayder, the king of the wildlings, steps forward from the crowd, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight of the dragon and the entourage of Unsullied and Dothraki that follow you. His fur-clad form is a stark contrast to the elegance of your queen. "Southern." he says, his voice booming over the camp. "You've brought a dragon to our lands."

"I'm here to make you kneel. I need an army to take the Iron Throne, and your people can be part of that," you declare, your voice carrying the authority of a true ruler. "Bend the knee to Queen Daenerys, and together we can conquer Westeros. Your people can be free as I will give you whatever lands you want. Stark, Lannister, or the Riverlands. I don't care."

Mance studies you for a long moment, his eyes sharp. You can see the cogs turning in his mind as he considers your proposal. The firelight dances across his features, casting shadows that make him look more wild and unpredictable than ever. "And what of my freedom?" he asks, his voice low and measured.

"You can be a powerful lord over your freefolk. But swear fealty to the rightful queen," you say, gesturing to Dany who fly over the giant wall. The promise of power and land seems to pique his interest, but the mention of fealty brings a flicker of defiance to his eyes.

You walk over to him as you took in his wife and a mysterious woman behind them. The woman's eyes were like pools of oceans, and you knew she was trouble.

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