BLACK WOLF - GoT [s1 - s4]

008 - slaughter of pigs

"travel far enough, you meet yourself." - david mitchell, cloud atlas

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In the middle of the forest sat a dwarf, two royal bastards, a man of the Nights Watch and three criminals. The group drank wine from their travelling canteens and spoke about their adventures. Aloy shared the story of her first hunt, slaughtering the predatory mountain lion with an arrow through the eye. Tyrion dove into a tattered book nestled on his lap.
Uncle Benjen untied the three criminals. Aloy studied them, placing her canteen back in her satchel and rubbing her hands defensively. They were given up from their villages, having a choice between losing their prized genitalia or joining the Nights Watch. Aloy found it unusual that men would rather lose their lives than their balls. It was almost amusing, however, Aloy never laughed at rapists, only thought about torturing them.
Jon watched over his sister protectively, scooting closer to her.

Tyrion took notice, smirking to himself. "Not impressed by your new brothers?"

Aloy was stuck in a blatant staring match between one of the criminals. A flaky plump man with more hair on his chin than his head. He was warming his hands by the small fire. Aloy helped herself to some duck soup, holding the metal tin with one hand.

"Lovely thing about the Watch, you discard your own family and get a whole new one." Tyrion commented, licking the tip of his finger and flipping to another page.

"Do you ever shut up?" Aloy said. Tyrion was making snide comments since they started down Kings Road. It drove her mad.

Tyrion snickered, surveying the young Stark. He never met a Stark quite like her, never as quick-witted or short-tempered. He always heard of the Starks being honourable and loyal, never spiteful.

"Why'd you read so much?" Jon implored, breaking the heavy silence.

Tyrion dropped his cheerful façade, opting to look down at his book. "Look at me and tell me what you see."

"This is a trick." Jon shrugged off.

"What you see is a dwarf. If I'd been born a peasant, they might have left me out in the woods to die." Tyrion settled, his voice residing back to his regular sarcasm. "Alas, I was born a Lannister of Casterly Rock. Things are expected of me. My father was Hand Of The King for twenty years—"

"Until your brother murdered that king."

"And slaughtered and raped the innocent alongside the King."

Tyrion was at a loss for words, licking his lips and pushing a vexing smile back onto his features. Jon controlled his gaze down onto the dirt while Aloy's pried into Tyrions' brown eyes.