I walk through the corridors atop the Wall, lighting every torch I come across. Since I am a ranger, I am to make sure to have all of them lit so they would allow everyone within the barricade to let the wildlings know they are ready for battle. But I don't see how I can fight them now, knowing that one of my closest allies here at Castle Black is one of them. Cotter is a nice lad, but, I don't know how I can trust him. The wildlings are sworn enemies to every man who took their vows at the heart tree. He stated that he would abandon the Wall and venture out to find his "sister". I haven't a clue what she might be like, but since she's one of them, she is dangerous in my eyes.

I gaze at the mountains after lighting another torch. I still can't believe how the wildlings are able to live with that kind of weather. As if the Wall wasn't cold enough. It's much worse out there in the wilderness.

"Big day tomorrow, isn't it? Off to Craster's Keep," speaks a voice. "Assuming you're not too busy looking for your North Grove." It's Finn, the arrogant bully. I still can't believe I let him beat me up in front of everyone just to keep Cotter's little secret. He should never had taken that knife, and maybe I should never have covered for him.

"Thought you didn't believe in it," I say. Of course he doesn't believe in it. He's of those who think that the North Grove is nothing but pure fiction. But he'll see. I'll prove him wrong. I'll prove them all wrong.

"Not saying I do," he says. "But if it was real, can you trust Cotter with it? You ask me, there's just something… off about him." He does have a point. There are indeed a lot of things off about Cotter, things only I know about. I stand not saying a word. As much as I'd like to exploit Cotter for who he truly is, now just isn't the time. Finn turns and glares at me. I can tell that he is fighting the urge to punch me right in the face.

"Oh, I get it," he says. "You two are probably buggering each other every night." I roll my eyes in annoyance. How stupid does he think I am? We all took our vows the other day, so it wouldn't be possible for Cotter and I to have some sort of a copulation.

"Finn," speaks another voice. "Get back on watch until relief arrives." It's Frostfinger. He urgently wants us to do our duties or else we're all dead men. I don't hate him for it, but if only he wouldn't be so strict.

"They're late!" Finn says, complaining.

"You think Mance Rayder is going to wait for them?" Frostfinger replies. Finn looks down at the ground. He mustn't disobey Denner or else he will suffer the consequences. He may be missing two fingers, but that won't stop him from punishing a man who hasn't done what they're told.

"Right! Arsehole." says Finn, quietly. Thank god Frostfinger didn't hear that, otherwise he'd wouldn't have taken that insult very well. He now turns to me to give out my instructions for the night.

"And Tuttle," he says. "You've got torches that have gone out." Damn it! I must've missed an entire column while I was walking by. Marvelous. More torches to light. As if tonight couldn't be anymore perfect.

"Keep them lit," he continues. "Let the wildlings know we're still home." He then walks away, leaving me alone in the cold. I take one last glance from above and the I continue on with my duty.

Just as I am about to light my last torch, I hear the sound of the elevator move up. Who could it be? I wonder to myself, but I am about to find out. The elevator finally stops and the doors open, revealing who is inside.

"Pig farmer," the passenger says. No. Not him. Not now. Why? Why in seven hells is he up here?! I grab onto my sword as I stare deep into the eyes of the ruthless Bolton soldier, Britt Warrick.

"A 300-mile wall and you're still in my way." he carries on. I continue to stare him down as I try to think of what I can possibly say in a moment like this.

"The Wall's a dangerous place," I say. "People slip off all the time." But my threat doesn't seem to be working.

"Still have some fighting spirit left in you, huh?" he says. He isn't wrong. I do have a fighting spirit within me, and I won't be afraid to unleash it.

"I did duty to my lord, back on that bloody farm," he says "And for doing a proper job it, what'd I get? Banished to the ****ing Wall!" He then kicks over a barrel of lit coals. Why must he talk about my farm? My family meant no harm to him and his Whitehill men but they went on and slaughtered them anyway!

If I had a choice, I would pull out my blade and plunge it through his neck, but we both took our vows. We're brothers now and we have to get along regardless of our past. He looks down at the snow, unsure of what to say next. He then lifts his head up and stares back at me.

"I never did tell you about your father, did I?" he says, sinisterly. I widen my eyes in shock. How could he? My father was a good man and didn't deserve to be killed by this raging lunatic! I glare back him, my sword remaining in my satchel.

"We bled him at first, like a pig. Seemed only fair he should fell what it's like." he says. I can't. I can't do this. I won't let him. I won't let him provoke me. I stare him down as he moves closer to me, doing everything in my power to ignore him and take control.

"Near the end, he could barely breathe," he continues."Kept begging us to leave your sister alone. So I made sure he was still alive when she started screaming." No. Not my little sister. She was only eight years old! She didn't deserve to butchered by this madman! I grit my teeth as he moves even closer. He is really pushing me off the deep end, but I won't let him.

"The more we sliced the worse it got," he taunts. "Shrieking the whole time. Her crying out 'Gared, Gared!" That's it! I've had it! I will not let this arsehole continue on with this nonsense!

"You ****ing **it!" I shout. I pull out my sword and swing it at him. He too pulls out his weapon and blocks my attack.

"Temper temper," he says, taunting. This is it. There's no going back now. I promised my self I wouldn't do this. I took my vows and swore I wouldn't kill a brother. But none of that matters now. This man killed my family, and for that, I will make him bleed. I take another swing towards his head. He blocks it yet again as the force pushes me back.

"Oh come on now!" he says. Oh. I will come on. And when I do, he won't live to see the end of it. I take a third strike, which manages to shove him backwards.

"Too bad your father didn't fight like that," he says. "Might still be alive." How dare he! Even if my father did know how to fight, he would've sent him and his men straight to the pits of hell where they belong!

"You're going to die for what you did," I say. And I will be proven right. Britt Warrick will die at the hands of my blade.

"Jon Snow can't hold your hand now," he says. I don't need Jon Snow to hold my hand. I'm on my own now, and that's just the way it is. Britt lifts up his sword and brings it down hard. I fail to dodge his attack as the blade slices my shoulder. I scream in pain. I haven't felt that much pain in so long.

"Let's see if you scream like your sister!" he shouts. I swing my sword at him as we engage in definite combat. Our swords press against each other as I struggle to get a grip. I try my hardest to overpower him, but Britt gains the upper hand and knocks me down to the cold hard floor. He lifts his sword up high as he is about to plunge it into my chest. I quickly move to the side and knock the blade right out of his hands. We both stand up. He is now defenseless as I hold my sword at the tip of his neck.

"You got lucky, pig farmer," he says. "You going to slaughter me? Like my man back at your farm? At least let me have my sword." I look down as I hold him in position. It's true. I did murder his men back at my home, but they deserved it. They deserved the pain they caused to my and my family. And if I had the chance, I'd sure as all seven hells do it again.

"**ck you!" I shout. "You never gave my father any mercy!" He glares at me and rushes to a torch I had lit earlier. I fail to dodge it as he swings it toward my face. I scream as the fire burns a side of my cheek. He knocks me to the ground and has me pinned. He continues to hold the torch against my face as I can do nothing to stop it. I shriek with affliction as most of my skin is being burned to a crisp. I finally gain the upper hand and knock the torch out of Britt's hand. But as I try to grab my sword, he snags onto me and holds me down. I fight to get up as he has my arms and legs restrained. He grabs the top of my head and begins to smash it multiple times on the ground. I wail as blood spurts out from my forehead. He removes his hand and stops for a moment, only to lift up my hand and bit into it hard. I howl with pain. I want him to stop, but I know that this is of my doing. I actually had the idea to attack him at first sight when I knew I didn't stand a chance against a Bolton. He finally stops and gives a break. I, who is still pinned, whimper as tears flood from my eyes.

"Please…" I cry out. "Please… stop this…" I have trouble looking at him through all of the blood. He looks down at me with a dire look on his face.

"Our blades our sharp, Forrester," he says. "Don't try to fight them." I now find the strength to get up as I knock Britt off of me. I stand on my feet. My vision starts blur as I look upon him. I'm losing blood by the minute. If I don't end this and get medical assistance, I'm a dead man.

"Your blades may be sharp…" I say, growing dizzy."But I am Forrester. And Forresters never give up…" He grits his teeth and jumps up.

"**ck you and your pathetic house!" he shouts. He then runs over and grabs a spear from a nearby rack. I run towards my sword and pick it up from the ground. He charges over to me with his weapon. I duck the first attack, but I fail at the second as Britt lodges the spear into my chest. I holler in agony. I can feel my intestines being sliced open from the inside. Britt laughs ominously as he holds the spear in.

"Given up, yet?" he asks. "Or are you still thirsty for more?" I look up at him as blood oozes from my torso. I grab the tip of the spear and yank it out, shoving Britt back in the process. I hold my sword up high as he stands waiting for the moment strike again.

"Come and get me…" I say. The two of us skirmish each other as we battle for our lives. Britt throws his spear in mid air as it flies through the wind. I try to run from it, only for it to gouge itself into my back. I howl into the night like I've never had before. I fall to the ground, blood pouring out from behind. Britt chuckles and slowly walks toward me. I cry with all the tears I can bare, pleading for him to stop.

"Please…!" I shout, coughing up my own blood." Stop it…!" But it is no use. There isn't a house in all of the seven kingdoms as cutthroat as the Boltons, which may happen to me in just a matter of seconds. Britt reaches me and brutally snatches the spear out from back. I cry aloud. Never have I ever felt this much pain. I weep as I attempt to grab my sword. Britt notices this and smiles.

"No no no," he says. "You won't be needing that". He then lifts up his foot and stomps hard on my hand. My fingers are now bleeding. There isn't a way I will get out of this unscathed. He picks up my sword and wipes the blood off from the top. I stare up hopelessly. If only someone could help me now.

"Help…" I squeak. "Someone… Help me…" No use. Britt hears my distressed calls and grabs ahold of my chin.

"No one is going to help you, Gared," he says. "Not Cotter, not Finn, not even Jon Snow." He lets go of my chin and throws my head aside. I hate to admit it, but he's right. No one can save me now. I am at the top of the Wall where none of the watchers would able to hear my small cries. Finn, Jon, Cotter. They were all I had to friends here at Castle Black. And Talia and the other Forresters I grew up with. But now, since I am about to die, they'll never see my presence again.

As tears continue to flow from face and blood leaks from my injuries, Britt kicks my body over to where I can only lay on my back. He smiles balefully and lifts my sword up high. I hold onto my chest as I prepare for what is about to happen.

"Any last words, Tuttle?" he asks while holding the blade above me. I look up one last time to speak my final contentions.

"Iron from Ice…" I say, croakily. I then close my eyes as he stabs the blade into my windpipe. I take one last breathe as the blood shoots out from my neck.

So the vows were true. I did spend the rest of my life at the Wall and I died there as well. Britt laughs as he drags my dead body away from the scene. This day not only proves that I failed to find the North Grove, but I failed my household and that no one can defeat the Boltons.