𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

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Life at Castle Black followed certain patterns. The mornings were for swordplay, the afternoons for work. The black brothers set new recruits to many different tasks, to learn where their skills lay. Torsten mostly found himself out with the hunting party.
Torsten cherished the rare afternoons when he went to the Common Hall and enjoyed a meal with his friends.
The evening meal was almost done by the time he reached the Common Hall. A group of black brothers were dicing over milled wine near the fire. His friends were at the bench nearest the west wall, laughing.
Food spilled out from their bowls as the ruckus got louder and they couldn't contain themselves to sit still. A pool of soup had begun to form at the base of their bowls by the time Torsten sat down with them. Pypar and Grenn sat with smiles bare on their faces and food seeping between the gaps of their teeth. "Where've you been?" Grenn asked, looking towards Jon as he shuffled his snowy coat from his shoulders.

"Watch duty." Jon simply answered, taking a seat beside Torsten. Torsten had no appetite after watching Grenn and Pypar. He used his knuckles to push his tray in front of Jon instead, he knew the older had yet to eat. "With Sam." Jon said as he began to pick at the tray, occasionally sticking something in his mouth.

"Ah... Prince Pork Chop." Pypar grunted. Torsten hadn't found the nickname the least bit funny.

"He truly is a coward." Said Grenn. "At breakfast, there were still places on the bench when he got his pie, but he was too scared to come sit with us."

"The Lord of Ham thinks he's too good to eat with the likes of us." Suggested Jeren. Who sat a bench over with Rast and his sour group.

"I saw him eat a pork pie." Toad said, smirking. "Do you think it was a brother?" He began making oinking noises.

"That's enough!" Torsten snapped angrily. The other boys fell silent, taken aback by his sudden fury.

"Sam's no different from the rest of us." Jon said into the quiet, and he told them how it was going to be. "There's no place for him in the world so he's come here. You're not going to hurt him in the training yard anymore. Never again no matter what Thorne says. He's our brother now and we're going to protect him." Jon persuaded some, cajoled some, shamed the others, made threats were threats were required. At the end they had all agreed... all but Rast.

"You are in love, Lord Snow." Rast said. "You girls can do as you please. But if Thorne sends me up against Lady Piggy, I'm going to slice me off a side of bacon." He laughed in Jon's face and the other boys followed. "You got something to say, Bastard?" Rast's laugh slowly fell as his eyes settled on Torsten.

"Sure do." Torsten said, somehow finding his confidence. "Looks to me that you're just trying to hide your little one night stands with Ser Alliser. You're nothing more than his little cunt." Rast's eyes had hollowed at the younger boys words. The silence that drifted through the Common Hall was deadly.
His meaty fat fist planted itself deep into Torsten's nose, with enough force to crunch the bone. Torsten's upper body slammed into Jon causing him to spill his food. Jon was quick to take a hold of the situation and shoved Rast away, with enough force to knock him back into the bench.
Blood had shot from Torsten's nose, he struggled to wipe at the mess that filtered through his fingers.

"Come on." Jon sighed pulling him up by his shoulders. "You need to stop fighting people who are bigger than you." Jon said. Guiding the other bastard out of the Common Hall.

"Then I wouldn't be able to fight anyone." Torsten said and Jon laughed.

"My sister once said that." Jon smiled the thought of his youngest sister, Arya Stark, on his mind.

Hours later, as the castle slept, four of them paid a call on Rast's cell. Grenn held his arms while Pypar sat on his legs. Torsten could hear Rast's rapid breathing as Ghost leapt onto his chest. The direwolf's eyes burned red as embers as he gnarled his sharp canines. The wolf's teeth nipped lightly at the soft skin of the boy's throat, just enough to draw blood. "No one touches Sam." Jon said. "And if you ever lay a hand on Torsten again, Ghost won't hesitate." Jon said softly.

"Remember, we know where you sleep." Torsten added, smiling darkly. From that day forth, neither Rast nor the other boys would hurt Samwell Tarly.

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