Game of Thrones Iron Stark

The chase through the Haunted Forest never stopped.

Every ranger knew that falling meant death. The giant white spiders moved too fast on the ground.

"My wildfire's almost gone!" one man shouted.

"Mine too!"

Benjen carried the injured ranger on his back and kept swinging forward. He was running low as well. At this rate they were all going to die in these trees.

He stopped on a thick branch. The others landed around him.

"Benjen, why are we stopping?"

"Because we're not getting out of here alive," Benjen said. "But we can make sure these things never reach the Wall. So we fight."

He pulled his repeating crossbow. The others did the same. No one argued. They all knew the odds.

Then the trees below them shook again.

A group of wildlings came crashing through the undergrowth, red hair bright even in the gloom. They were being hunted too.

"Fire-Kissed clan," Benjen said.

One of his men muttered, "We could let the spiders take them. Buy us time."

"No," Benjen said. "We're all First Men. Against the Others we fight together. Shoot the spiders. Cover their retreat."

The rangers opened fire. The repeating crossbows sang, bolts ripping into the pale bodies of the spiders.

Below them, a huge bearded wildling looked up in shock as the spider chasing him dropped dead.

Tormund Giantsbane.

He saw the black-cloaked men in the trees and nearly laughed.

"Crows!" he roared. "You're saving us now? What the fuck is happening?"

"Keep running!" Benjen shouted. "We'll cover you!"

The rangers set fire to several big trees with the last of their wildfire. The green flames roared up. The spiders hated fire and skittered back, some of them burning where they stood.

Benjen and his men dropped to the ground and ran with the wildlings. For the first time in thousands of years, Night's Watch and wildlings fled side by side.

Tormund glanced at Benjen as they ran. "You're Benjen Stark. I know that face."

"And you're Tormund Giantsbane," Benjen answered. "I know yours."

A red-haired spearwife running beside them — Ygritte — looked at the repeating crossbows and the green fire with sharp eyes.

"Your gear's too good for crows," she said. "Where'd you get it?"

Benjen didn't want to say it, but the truth felt small compared to what was chasing them.

"My nephew. Tony Stark. He made it."

Ygritte's arrow was suddenly at his throat. "You're lying."

Tormund grabbed her arm. "Not now, woman! The dead are still coming!"

They split soon after. The wildlings veered west. Benjen's smaller group kept south. The White Walker paused at the fork, then sent the spiders after the wildlings and led the wights after the rangers.

It had smelled Stark blood.

Wildfire ran out fast after that. Men started falling from the trees. Every time one hit the ground the wights were on him in seconds.

Only Seven stayed with Benjen until the end.

Seven looked at the last wights closing in and made his choice.

"Get back to the Wall, Benjen," he said. "Tell them what we saw."

He dropped from the branch with his war axe in both hands.

"For the Watch," he shouted. "For the Wall. For the North!"

Seven charged straight at the White Walker.

The Walker caught the axe in one pale hand and crushed it like dry wood. Then it drove its ice spear through Seven's chest and flung him aside like he weighed nothing.

Seven lay in the snow, watching Benjen disappear into the trees. He smiled once, small and tired.

Then the cold took him.