Game Of Thrones... With A Twist

A Game of Thrones - Chapter 7

"I still remember seeing my father's felt burn in Lannisport. I believe your uncles were responsible." Tyrion stated.

"Must have been a pretty sight." Theon tried to a smart-ass comeback. 

"Nothing prettier than watching sailors burn alive. Yes, a great victory for your people. A shame how it all turned out." Tyrion's retort killed the Ironborn's smile quickly.

"We were outnumbered ten to one." "A stupid rebellion, then. I suppose your father realized that when your brothers died in battle." Theon's remark was cut off by Tyrion without a second thought.

"Now here your are, your enemy's squire." Tyrion last insult caused Theon to finally snap... a bit. 

"Careful, Imp." The Greyjoy warned. 

"I've offended you. Forgive me, it's been a rough morning." Tyrion spoke dismissively, looking slight grumpy as he did.

"Anyway, don't despair. I'm a constant disappointment to my own father and I've learned to live with it." Tyrion spoke as he took out a single gold dragon from his pocket before he tossed at Theon's feet. 

"Your next tumble with Ros is on me. I'll try not to wear her out." Tyrion's cocky comeback left the Greyjoy heir scowling at him as the Imp of Casterly Rock left Winterfell proper.

<An hour later, Training yard, Castle Black, The Wall, The Gift (Brandon's Gift)...>

The busy days of training new recruits at Castle Black continued as one Jon Snow taught his two friends, Grenn and Pyp, the arts of the blade. "Now pivot as you deliver the stroke. Put all your weight behind it." 

But Grenn's attention's had been caught by something else.

"What in Seven Hells is that?" He asked as Jon turned around to see what all the fuss was about.

"They'll need an eight hell to fit him in." Pyp jested with a laugh as one particularly fat young man who was already sweating from just walking and carrying padded armour followed one Ser Alliser Thorne to the training field... towards them.

"Tell them your name." The stern man ordered as he and the fat boy stood in front of the three young recruits. 

"Samwell Tarly, of Horn Hill... I mean, I was of Horn Hill. I've come to take the black." The young fat lad spoke, panting just from the sudden increase in exercise.

"Come to take the black pudding." Spoke one of the recruits that had come north with Jon Snow, drawing some laughs from Grenn and Pyp, but not from Jon.

"Well, you couldn't be any worse than you look." Ser Alliser commented before the armoured man turned towards the recruit that had joked, "Rast... see what he can do." He ordered as Rast put on a mean face and prepared himself.

The highborn from Horn Hill seemed to have a mean face on... but as soon as Rast began hitting with a training sword, Samwell screamed and fell to the floor. 

"I yield! Please, no more." He somewhat squealed. 

"On your feet. Pick up your sword." Ser Alliser ordered, but Samwell didn't make much movement save for more groveling on the dirt.

"Hit him till he finds his feet." Ser Alliser ordered Rast cruelly as Rast did as he was bid, smashing the training sword mercilessly on the Tarly's back... repeatedly.

He stopped as Ser Alliser decided to speak, "It seems they've run short of poachers and thieves down south. Now they send us squealing bloody pigs. Again, harder." Thorne commanded ruthlessly. 

Jon moved to do something, but Pyp stopped him. "Jon."

Rast began his torture once more as Samwell screamed, "I yield."