Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
loc. castle black, the wall. 298AC
⠀⠀⠀It was raining the night Samwell took ill.
⠀⠀⠀The downpour excited Carsen—she had seen nothing but snow in all her time at Castle Black, those fine white flakes that looked harmless as mist but were truly carved in the seventh hell itself. They gathered, diamond-bright, shielding the filth and grime of the world around her and the people that inhabited it.
⠀⠀⠀Carsen had taken Sam up to the healing wing herself, along with the combined efforts of Pyp, Jon, and Grenn. After the boys were lenient on him in the training yard, Sam had again gone to supper and dined with Carsen and Jon. The next morning, he was so sick he could scarcely stand.
⠀⠀⠀Pyp was the one to find him. Sam's skin was blotchy, some pale as milk and some flushed rose-red. His lips were chapped and swollen, his eyes watery, his skin tight and shining with sweat like it had become too small for his skull. He coughed all the way to the healing wing, and his wheezes and sobs echoed in Carsen's head long after the foreboding door had swung shut behind them.
⠀⠀⠀Carsen wore away the hours avoiding Alliser Thorne. She knew she was due in training but found there was nothing she favoured less than listening to her commander's brittle, gruelling instruction. So she holed up in the dormitory, propped up an unused pallet and used it for her own training.
⠀⠀⠀Hours she spent hacking away at that cot; her hands grew blisters and her arms ached miserably from the weight of her sword and she was certain the pallet would've been slashed and dented and cracked in two if she were using a real sword. With each blow she landed, a grunt of effort left her.
⠀⠀⠀"Did the pallet offend you?"
⠀⠀⠀Carsen jumped, dropping the sword. It clanged loudly at her feet, sending a shudder of vibrations through her. She stood, rooted to the spot as Jon looked over at her from the doorway. His brown hair was half-pulled back, leaving open more of his long, sullen face—though he wore an amused look that softened it.
⠀⠀⠀Carsen returned the half-smile and brought the pallet back down, feeling a pang of sorrow for whatever new arrival had to sleep on it.
⠀⠀⠀"Thorne says since Sam is ill he wants us on watch duty together."
⠀⠀⠀Carsen grabbed the parchment she kept by her pallet and the quill; she wrote quickly and handed it to Jon, before bending down to tie her boots.
