Winter's (GOT) Nothing on Me #88

As he strode confidently through the subterranean passage beneath the Wall, leading a procession of rangers back to Castle Black. Gale followed closely behind, flanked by a formidable array of companions—Tormund, Val, Ryk Longspear, Qhorin, Benjen, Edd, and a cohort of returning rangers.

The cage containing the thrashing wight was carried by two rangers, its haunting commotion echoing within the confines of the tunnel.

Emerging into Castle Black's yard, Gale surveyed the scene with a hint of satisfaction. A diverse gathering of rangers congregated within the yard and along the castle walls, their expressions a mosaic of emotions.

Some greeted the returning party with relief, relieved to see the safe return of their comrades. Others observed the captive undead creature with fascination and horror, while a faction cast disdainful glances toward the wildlings in their midst.

Gale gestured for the two rangers to lower the cage, and they complied swiftly. He cast his gaze over the assembly, addressing the gathered rangers, builders, and stewards of the Night's Watch.

"Open your eyes and take a close look," Gale proclaimed, directing attention towards the cage. "These undead abominations that can only be slain by fire and dragon glass-- they are the sole adversaries the Night's Watch was forged to fight in times of old," he declared, pausing briefly to let his words resonate among the assembled audience.

Gale stood firm, his voice resonating through the courtyard as he addressed the assembled Night's Watch members. Taking a moment to compose himself, he drew a deep breath before delivering his urgent message.

"An army of these creatures, numbering beyond comprehension, will imminently descend upon us all," Gale declared, his tone grave and resolute. "Presently, the Night's Watch lacks the manpower, resources, and provisions to withstand the onslaught of the undead hordes."

He continued, speaking in a matter-of-fact manner. "If we're to entertain even the slightest hope of survival, of fulfilling our sworn duty, then we require aid!"

"We require assistance from the Northern lords," he emphasized, the urgency evident in his voice. "Most crucially, we need to form an alliance with the wildlings, a partnership that could secure our collective survival during the impending harsh winter," Gale stressed, his gaze sweeping over the attentive audience.

"However," Gale paused, scanning the diverse array of expressions among the gathered crowd, noting their varying reactions. "The Northern lords are renowned for their stubbornness. If they discover our intentions to collaborate with the wildlings, they'll likely march on us themselves and hang us all..." he added, acknowledging the looming threat.

Gale took a few steps back with a wry chuckle, patting the side of the cage where the wight lurked, its harrowing shrieks piercing the air.

"However, with the help of this... this beauty here," he said, amusement lacing his words. "We'll show them what they stand to face if they refuse to heed our counsel."

"In essence, it's our only chance to sway the Northern lords and King Robert into working alongside the wildlings," Gale concluded, his voice carrying a tone of conviction. "I entrust each and every one of you to guard this captive with your lives—it's our key to survival."

...

In the hushed embrace of the night, Castle Black lay veiled in tranquil stillness. Save for the rangers keeping vigil, the occupants of the fortress slumbered peacefully within their quarters. The captured wight, confined within its cramped cage, found itself nestled in an empty, shadowed storage chamber within the castle walls.

In the absence of stimuli or living beings, the undead entity too lulled into a dormant state.

However, the eerie calm was abruptly shattered as the creaking door to the storage area swung open, ushering in a cloaked figure garbed in the traditional black attire of the Night's Watch.

Bowen Marsh, the first steward of the Night's Watch, bore a scowl as he strode into the chamber, the sudden disturbance rousing the captive wight into frenzied activity, its piercing shrieks rending the silence.

"Silence, you mindless creature," Bowen Marsh commanded, his voice laced with authority as he advanced further into the room, firmly shutting the door behind him.

Unperturbed by the grotesque appearance and violent struggles of the wight, the steward continued his approach, seemingly undaunted by the monstrosity before him.

In the dimly lit confines of the storage chamber, Bowen Marsh's discontented murmurs cut through the stale air. "Everyone's losing their minds lately," he muttered wearily, his voice carrying a tinge of frustration.

He seemed to address the captive wight almost as if it were privy to his grievances. "It's all that stray mutt's fault... ever since Benjen brought him, everything started going to shit..." he lamented, his words tinged with a sense of resentment.

"Now... now they've sent Ser Thorne and the few rational souls among us on a mission, where they had him meet a treacherous end," Bowen remarked, a rueful chuckle escaping his lips. "We thought we were discreet enough, that our plans would remain concealed, but they discovered our scheme," he continued, bitterness seeping into his tone.

"Most of us are already dead... and my fate will likely follow soon," he added somberly, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword.

"But even if I must die, I'll ensure the mutt won't triumph," Bowen vowed resolutely, his resolve hardening.

"I'll put an end to you here, so they'll have nothing to present to the king and the Northern lords," he declared, his voice taking on an almost manic edge as he drew his blade back, preparing to dismember the wight and turn into nothing more than a corpse.

Bowen Marsh poised himself to strike at the wight, the blade of his sword primed for the first blow. Yet, before his strike descended, a taut twang reverberated through the air, halting his motion. Startled, he pivoted around to discern the source of the disturbance, his gaze fixating on two luminous orbs gleaming in the darkness.

Without warning, an arrow sliced through the gloom, finding its mark in the back of Bowen Marsh's knee.

The searing pain tore through him, driving him to his knees, his blood now mingling with the musky air of the chamber. The wight, incited by the scent of fresh blood, intensified its frenzied thrashing, an unsettling sight that filled Bowen Marsh with a sense of dread.

Emerging from the shadows, Gale strode forth, a bow clasped in his hand, his eyes emitting an eerie azure glow. A sigh escaped the young man's lips as he approached Bowen Marsh with an air of bitter disappointment.

"I honestly didn't expect you to fall for such an obvious trap," Gale remarked with a sardonic smile, a tinge of regret coloring his voice. "Part of me wished you wouldn't... but here we are," he added, lowering himself to match Bowen Marsh's eye level as the steward knelt in distress.

"It's you... you damned stray!" Bowen Marsh growled, his teeth clenched in fury, his gaze ablaze with loathing.

Bowen Marsh, seething with rage, attempted to wield his blade against Gale, his voice rife with contempt. However, the young man intercepted the first steward's arm with a composed demeanor, effortlessly disarming him with a calculated maneuver, intensifying Bowen Marsh's bitterness and resentment.

Calmly, Gale deflected the steward's aggression, compelling Bowen Marsh to release his grip on the blade. The steward's expression darkened further, his features contorting with an intensified mix of anger and spite.

"I knew you'd come for me... like you came after Ser Thorne..." Bowen spat out, venom tainting his words.

"Aye, I was responsible for Ser Thorne's demise," Gale admitted evenly. "He held respect among many rangers. Had he chosen to lead a mutiny, he'd have garnered substantial support, leading to much bloodshed..." Gale acknowledged with an air of indifference.

"He had to be dealt with... but you...?" Gale's tone shifted to one of detached disinterest. "I couldn't care less about you. I would have been content to leave you be had you simply abandoned your misguided schemes," he explained with a detached air.

"All you had to do was refrain from coming here, and yet here we are..." Gale added, a hint of bitterness tainting his expression. "You failed the test, and now, I can't afford to let you or the others be," his countenance turned frigid.

"You will divulge everything you know," Gale stated firmly, extending his hand towards the first steward, his demeanor resolute.