Winter's (GOT) Nothing on Me #90

Staring through the window of the Lord Commander's office at the macabre sight of the bodies dangling from the gallows, including those of Othell Yarwick, Bowen Marsh, and several other builders and stewards, Gale wore a distant, emotionless expression. 

His face, usually marked with a leisurely smile and a hint of resolve, now carried the weight of the burden he bore—bringing death upon others had become ridiculously easy, yet it felt more wrong. 

Despite the chilling tableau before him, Gale steeled himself with resolve, a determination etched deep within his soul. He steeled his heart to push forward relentlessly, regardless of the sacrifices demanded. 

He couldn't let another tragedy akin to Threya's fate occur under his watch. 

Whether dealing with treacherous, self-serving plotters or well-meaning but misguided individuals, Gale had accepted that some might need to perish for the greater good. It was a harsh sacrifice he was willing to accept and live with for the rest of his life. 

The weight of past decisions and the repercussions of his actions loomed heavily on Gale's conscience. He had already caused too much death, whether by his own hand, through orders he'd given, or even through passive inaction. 

There was no turning back for him, no chance to amend the trail of death he'd left in his wake, and more importantly, no stopping. To stop would render everything he'd endured and accomplished meaningless.

Amidst his grim contemplation, the creak of the door opening shattered Gale's thoughts. Qhorin and Tormund entered the room, their presence interrupting the eerie silence that enveloped the grim scene outside the window.

"Everyone is here... good," Gale announced, his gaze sweeping the room and confirming the presence of Tormund, Val, Qhorin, Benjen, Lord Mormont, and Maester Aemon. 

The meeting held immense significance, set to discuss the gathering at Winterfell where King Robert and numerous Northern lords would convene. 

Gale saw this as a pivotal moment, a chance to not only convince the North's leaders and King Robert of the imminent danger they faced but also to potentially negotiate and finalize an alliance between the Northern Realm and the Wildlings. 

It was with this purpose that he had dispatched a message to Mance Rayder, urging him to attend the event and directly engage with Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark.

"What news from Rayder? Has he responded?" Gale inquired, turning his attention to Val, hopeful for positive developments. He knew the success of their plans hinged upon Rayder's cooperation.

Val nodded affirmatively. "He agreed to come and is en route... but there's a condition," she began, pausing as she hesitated to deliver the remainder of her message.

Gale sighed, a sense of impending trouble washing over him. "What now?" he asked, his forehead creasing with exasperation, anticipating a new set of complications.

Gale sighed, a sense of impending trouble washing over him. "What now?" he asked, his forehead creasing with exasperation, anticipating a new set of complications.

"Rayder insists on assessing the situation before revealing his identity... he requests that his presence remains undisclosed until then," Val explained, wearing a bitter smile as she relayed Rayder's terms.

Gale arched an eyebrow, contemplating the implications. 

"Understandable. I'd do the same in the man's position," Gale remarked, pleasantly surprised that no further issues had arisen. "Any objections?" Gale directed the question to the Lord Commander and the other members of the Night's Watch, seeking their input on maintaining Rayder's secrecy for the time being.

"I don't think Lord Stark would be all too thrilled about this..." the Lord Commander expressed with a weary sigh, reclining back into his seat. Despite the apprehension, his demeanor shifted to one of resolute determination. 

"But we've already come this far... we can't afford to retreat now," he added, nodding firmly as if reaffirming his commitment to the course of action.

Qhorin and Benjen exchanged glances, sharing unspoken concerns, but opted to remain silent. Maester Aemon, however, couldn't suppress his dissent. 

"I understand the necessity of concealing Rayder's presence from the Northern lords, but the notion of sneaking the Wildling king into Lord Stark's home without his knowledge seems unwise," the old maester cautioned, his voice tinged with wisdom. 

"At the very least, Lord Stark should be informed of this plan. He is a man of honor and reason; I'm certain he would not refuse such a small request from a potential ally," Aemon suggested, advocating for transparency and diplomacy.

A heavy silence descended upon the room, prompting Gale to inwardly sigh as he paused to consider the ramifications of their actions. His relief over the absence of immediate obstacles faded, replaced by a sense of self-reflection. 

'Looks like I'm repeating the same mistake again...' Gale silently reflected. It was a recurring pattern, his tendency to weigh matters solely from his perspective, neglecting the viewpoints of others—a habit he was intent on breaking.

"When you put it this way... going behind Lord Stark's back does feel somewhat brash," Gale conceded, releasing an audible sigh this time. "Is there any possibility for Rayder to find a compromise on this matter?" he inquired, turning to Val, hoping for a solution that would align with both their objectives and Lord Stark's potential concerns.

Val shook her head regretfully. "He was very insistent on this condition," she hesitantly admitted. "It might be possible to sway his decision, but he won't arrive for at least a week," she added with a weary sigh. 

"Unfortunately, time isn't on our side..." Gale remarked, his expression tightening with concern. "King Robert is due to arrive in Winterfell within two weeks, perhaps a few days more if we're fortunate," he stated grimly, calculating the dwindling time they had at their disposal.

An uneasy silence enveloped the room, the weight of their limited timeframe looming heavily. 

Gale swiftly interjected to prevent the silence from becoming suffocating. "We'll need someone to stay behind, either Tormund or Val," Gale directed his attention to the two Wildlings. 

"See if you can convince Rayder to make a compromise-- if not, tell him to meet me near Winterfell... I might have something to convince him by then," he explained, acknowledging the constrained options they currently had.

"Val would be better off heading to Winterfell. She's more of a talker than I am..." Tormund shrugged, displaying a hint of acceptance. "I can stay and try to reason with Rayder, though I wouldn't bet on changing his mind," he admitted candidly.

"That will have to suffice," Gale acknowledged with a nod before turning to Benjen and Qhorin. "We still need to transport the wight to Winterfell. I entrust that task to both of you," he delegated, but his decision seemed to puzzle them.

"Aye, we can manage that," Qhorin agreed readily. "But it sounds as if you don't plan to accompany us?" he questioned, a furrow forming on his brow, perplexed by Gale's words.

"The distractions inside and north of the Wall are dealt with... but I can't say the same on the southern front," Gale disclosed, his tone heavy with concern. "I'm heading to Winterfell, but I'll be taking a circuitous route, addressing those distractions along the way," he elaborated, his plan still shrouded in mystery.

"Distractions south of the Wall? What could possibly be a threat there, lad?" Benjen couldn't contain his curiosity.

"When the White Walkers finally descend upon us, chaos will reign... can you guarantee that no opportunistic soul would exploit it?" Gale retorted, an edge of urgency in his voice. "Some self-serving bastard is bound to try something that would cost many lives. I cannot allow that to happen," he explained with a sense of grim determination.

"Surely you're not saying what I think you're saying, Gale?" Benjen's expression grew more somber as he voiced his disbelief.

"Killing a few dissenting rangers and disciplining stewards and builders from the Night's Watch is one matter, but targeting highborn lords of the North based on suspicion alone is an entirely different affair!" Benjen's tone turned graver, his concern evident.

Gale shook his head firmly. "We don't have the luxury of time for futile debates. My mind is set on what must be done," he declared resolutely. "I've informed you because I felt it was owed, and you can either accept my decision and carry on with your lives, or attempt to hinder me," he added, crossing his arms in a stance of resolve.

"And if we decide to intervene?" Benjen's gaze narrowed, his skepticism apparent.

"Then I'll force my way through and proceed with my task. No one here can stop me," Gale asserted firmly. "Once it's accomplished, I'll head to the nearest port town and take a boat to Essos. I've done enough to leave this mess behind with a clear conscience," he added, his words heavy with finality.

"The entirety of Westeros will soon be aware of the undead threat... by then you won't need my help anyway..."