Game of Thrones: A Tale of a Coward

A New Recruit - Saulmund I

Saulmund and his twin sister Seramund are wandering across the South with their Wildling companions. Their father, a tough and brutal warrior, went South of the Wall to raid villages and to set up a home for his twin children. Having lost their mother to a Crow attack, Saulmund decided that he and his twin sister ought to go South and find their father who hasn't returned for a few months. With them, they brought half a dozen of toughest warriors and another half dozen of brilliant fighters. And Brutus, mainly known for his fighting skills, and named after his grandfather who was nicknamed "Brutus" for being the bloodiest fighter.

The South is so much more greener than North of the Wall. The temperature is warmer, but stories South, South of Westeros say it is extremely hot and that no clothing is really needed to keep warmth. Obviously it cannot be true - this is what the twins always hear and believe.

They've encountered a few men from the South, but no Crows unfortunately for them. Seramund trails behind Saulmund as he follows Brutus, who's leading the Wildling party. Saulmund has yellow eyes, rather unnatural for someone, though not too rare, whereas Seramund has rather orange eyes, which is also unnatural, but not something rare for Wildlings that live in those parts North of the Wall. Aside from that difference, their hair is both dark brown, and all their facial features are similarly recognisable to each other. Other Wildlings express their eye colours as a gift or a sign of something great to come, so their father decided they live South of the Wall, where they are not hunted by Crows and when the King-Beyond-the-Wall gives them their rightful home South of the Wall, they shall help him defeat the men of Westeros and be rewarded for their valour.

They've reached quite far down of the Northern Kingdom, but have found no trace of their father. Saulmund suspects that he is already dead, however does not want to inform Seramund of this. Unbeknownst to Saulmund, Seramund believes this too, but doesn't want to say anything to her brother, as she thinks it's the only thing that's keeping him going. Saulmund won't say this to the Wildlings, either. He suspects also that their father is the only value they have to them anymore. 'Forget the shit about our eyes, they don't believe we're strong enough and will only keep us alive because of father,' Saulmund says to himself often.

"Look at their castles," Brutus sniggers, his voice perfect for his name. "Too large and easy to see."

"They do look encapsulating and glorious, though. I hear they're easy to man and better for their own defence," Saulmund shares his opinion. Mance taught him and his sister many words for describing things, making them appear better than the rest. He taught because he saw something in the twins, something others did not. "Well, obviously they're not able to defend themselves against our might."

"That one looks very pretty. I want to visit it," Seramund requests, pointing at a large structure of buildings. She asked the same question about every major place they've visited. She got bored of windmills and farms quickly enough, so now she wants more. Saulmund finds it hard to turn down his sister, however after so many rejections, he decides it time to pay a visit to one of the Kneelers' castles.

"I accept your request, sister, although it may be wiser to wait until night falls upon us to explore their castle." And with that, Seramund smiles gleefully. The others watch intently, seeing that their words are more powerful than their fighting. Their wishful future is to seek castles, but not to destroy these homes. To the dozen wildlings of the party, this is seen as weakness from their leaders. They only follow those that are strong, not those with expectations and dreams of living pretty. Saulmund is aware of this, and having a higher intelligence than them, he has plans of how he will even out the weakness with the brutal side of him that is scarcely seen.

So, the Wildling party set up a small camp outside of this castle. They set the camp in a nearby forest. There's plenty of wood for fire. And there's plenty of rabbit in this area for food. Whilst discussing sexual relations, killing, thieving and killing and talk of killing Crows, Saulmund leaves them to join his sister for company; consciously giving awareness to more weakness. 

He plants himself down on the damp and muddy grass of the forest beside his twin sister. "This doesn't help our situation, Sera." He calls her "Sera" when it is only the two of them together.

"What situation?" She asks her brother.

"The obvious one about how frail and feeble we must seem to our companions. We need to look strong. They may be older and devastatingly brutal, and not to mention ugly!" He jokes, making his sister giggle and making her feel slightly better about everything. The two of them aren't particularly fond of their friends, and they both know don't without even having to say it to each other. "But we must act as if we enjoy and understand our ways. We can't act differently just because we were born differently. The cruelty of this is that we can't be what we want and always do what we want. We may have Brutus protecting us, but he cannot forever." 

Something is troubling Sera and Saulmund can clearly tell there's something bothering her. Without having to ask her, he just gives her a look that she recognises and begins to explain herself: "Do you still seriously think that father is alive, or at the least, well?" Sera questions.

"Honestly, I do not. But they do, so keep acting as if we do, too. Otherwise they have no need for us two and will most likely dispose of us," Saulmund replies with the harsh truth. Seramund seems to understand his point.

Saulmund witnesses a small fire, gleaming ahead of him. 'One of the men of Westeros,' he ponders. He points it out to his twin sister and they decide to check out the curiosity. 

The leaves start rustling and they start whispering about him, causing the man to get frightened and startled. He turns to look at them, not making out their silhouettes. "Who's there? I'll kill ya!" the terrified man shouts.

Brutus comes up behind the man and pins him to the ground. "Tell us everything you know, or I will fuck you into the dirt myself," he threatens him. 

The Southern man stutters, "I-I-I, er... well, my name's Mirk and I live, or rather, I did live at Winterfell. It's only a little bit North of 'ere if you're looking for it, shouldn't be, er... too much trouble finding it, eh? I don't recognise your clothing; where're you from?" Mirk answers Brutus.

"What do you want with him, Saulmund?" Brutus questions his leader, ignoring Mirk's question. Brutus is resting his right leg on Mirk to keep him down. By now, the entire Wildling party is watching.

"You can still fuck him. He's no use to us. He's not gonna help us defeat the men of the Seven fucking Kingdoms, is he!?" Saulmund answers, getting carried away with himself, attempting to show authority. "We don't need him and he doesn't need us, so, Brutus, do what you want."

Brutus smiles malevolently and drags Mirk away, who's kicking and shouting, and threatening and cursing on his way. Seramund looks to her brother. Appalled with him, however understanding his actions. They leave for sleep, not saying a word to each other, and still with Mirk's final scream lingering around in their heads...