𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇ

𝟚

❆ ❆ ❆

Every piss would be an adventure, if not quite of the sort Torsten had once envisioned. Out under the trees, some rangers had found enough duff and dry wood to start a fire beneath a slanting ridge of slate. Others had raised tents or made rude shelters by stretching their cloaks over low branches. Giant had crammed himself inside the hollow of a dead oak. "How d'ye like my castle, bastard?" He asked as Torsten approached.

"It looks snug." Torsten observed. "You know where Jon is?" He asked.

"Keep on the way you were. If you come on Ser Ottyn's pavilion, you've gone too far." Giant smiled. "Unless Jon's found him a tree too." Ghost had helped Torsten find Jon in the end. The direwolf shot ahead like a quarrel from a crossbow. Under an outcrop of rock that gave some small degree of shelter from the rain, Jon sat against a bony tree sharpening Longclaw. 

"My feet are soaked through." Torsten's boots squished when he moved, he grumbled taking a seat beside Jon.

"Take off your boots and dry your stockings. I'll find some dry wood. If the ground's not wet under the rock, we might be able to get a fire burning." Jon showed Torsten the rabbit. "And we'll feast." Torsten couldn't help but smile.

"You know where Sam is?" Grenn asked as he passed the two bastard boys.

"No, haven't seen him." Torsten answered, Grenn shook his head miserably.

"He's useless, all I asked was for him to fetch a sack of potatoes 'nd onions." Grenn grumbled.

"Probably got himself day dreaming about all the girls 'round here." Torsten said making Grenn laugh.

"Wouldn't doubt that." Grenn commented with a large smile stretched across thin lips.

"He's in the hall with Lord Mormont." Jon finally recalled. "He's finding Mance Rayder for us." Grenn's expression changed.

"Oh." Grenn did not look anxious to meet Craster, even if it meant a warmth for a mere second. Grenn bid his leave. A moment of silence passed over the two bastard's, all that could be heard was the heavy rain and scrapping of the stone hitting sword. It wasn't until Samwell approached that Torsten lifted his head.

"What are you doing?" Torsten asked, causing Jon to look up from his sword. Samwell stood above the two, with him was the rabbit keeper, wrapped in deerskin.

"This is Gilly." Samwell beamed.

"Aye, we've met." Said Torsten, looking back to the ground. "We're going to eat the rabbit, if that's what you came for." The admission made him feel absurdly guilty.

"Hello, Gilly. What are you doing?" Jon said more politely.

"Sam said the two of you could help." Gilly said hopeful, Torsten only offered her a dry laugh.

"I'm sorry, but Sam knows we're not supposed to." Torsten said not daring to look at the young girl, neither bastard wanted anything to do with her.

"She's pregnant." Samwell said, his breath frosted the air in small nervous puffs. Gilly's arms enclosed around the swell of her belly. "We have to take her with us when we leave." Samwell said making Torsten laugh.

"What?" Jon looked up, his sword now long forgotten.

"You've got to be joking." Torsten shook his head of wet straw hair. Jon raised from the stump he and Torsten were sat against, throwing his cloak behind himself.

"I know it sounds a bit mad." Samwell began, fiddling with his fingers.

"Don't beg us anything. Go back to your hall, you shouldn't be here and Samwell... drop it. We were commandeered not to speak to Craster's women." Said Jon.

"We are sworn to protect." Samwell argued.

"Sam." Torsten snapped. "We can't take her." He spoke sternly. 

"Please, m'lord. I can still run if I have to. You don't have to speak with me. Just take me with you, that's all I ask." Torsten shook his head. All she asks, he thought. As if that were nothing.

"It's not possible." Torsten spoke shaking his head. He couldn't believe what Samwell was doing.

"I'm going to have a baby. If it's a girl, that's not so bad, she'll grow a few years and he'll marry her. If it's a boy..." She cut herself short. Her words made the three boys still, Torsten and Jon shared a look. Torsten recalled never seeing one of Craster's boys, nor men, save Craster himself.

"If it's a boy what?" Torsten asked, Gilly looked afraid, terrified. She stayed quiet.

"You want us to risk our lives for you and you won't even tell us why?" Her fear was plain on her face. Despairing she ran. The deerskin flapping behind her.

"Why'd you do that?" Samwell asked, turning back towards the two bastard boys.

"Do what? He asked her a question." Torsten shrugged.

"He was cruel." Samwell complained.

"Cruel? Sam, are you in such a hurry to lose a hand... maybe even your cock?" Torsten asked in disbelief.

"I didn't touch her." Samwell said.

"No, you just wanted to steal her." Jon sat back down beside Torsten.

"I can't steal her. She's her own person, not a goat." Samwell laughed softly, though his laugh didn't last long.

"We're heading deeper and deeper into Wildling territory. We can't take a girl with us. Mormont wouldn't have it. And even if he would, what would we do with her? Who's going to deliver a baby? You?" Jon barrelled out.

"I could try. What? I've read about it. A bit." Samwell said quietly, his large structure seemed to curl in on himself.

"I'm sorry Sam. We can't help her." Torsten watched as Sam's cloak flapped behind himself like great black wings as he fled.

"Damn her." Torsten said resentfully. "And damn Sam twice for sending her to us. What did he think we could do for her? We're here to fight Wildlings not save them." Torsten shook his head and left to gather fuel. Digging down under dead falls for the drier wood beneath and peeling back layers of sodden pine needles until he found likely kindling. Even then, it seemed to take forever for a spark to catch. He hung his cloak from the rock to keep the rain off his smoky little fire, making them a small snug alcove.
As he knelt to skin the rabbit, Jon pulled off his boots.

"I think there's moss growing between my toes." He declared, wiggling his toes in question, making Torsten laugh.
Torsten spitted the carcass, banked the fire with a pair of rocks, and balanced their meal atop them. The rabbit had been a scrawny thing, but as it cooked it smelled like a king's feast. Torsten had pulled his own boots off and rested his feet close to the fire. Other rangers gave them envious looks. Even Ghost looked up hungrily, flames shining in his red eyes as he sniffed. "You had yours before." Jon reminded him. The rabbit was a shade underdone, but tasted wonderful. By the time they were done it was dark outside and Torsten was licking his fingers. "That was good. But I wish there was more, lamb maybe." Jon thought allowed.

"There was a sheepfold, but no sheep." Torsten recalled looking back at Jon whose face fell.

"I wonder how he's able to hold the place. His defences were nothing to speak of, only a muddy dike." Jon shook his head, unable to believe what he'd seen. Ghost laid his head on paws and went to sleep by the fire. Jon stretched out beside him, while Torsten followed, thankful for the warmth. He was cold and wet, but not so cold and wet as he'd been a short time before.

"Perhaps tonight the Old Bear will learn something that will lead us to Benjen." Torsten spoke hopeful. Jon smiled at the younger's words.

"I hope so." He said honestly. 

❆ ❆ ❆