Sam fell on the floor, panting and covered with cold sweat from head to feet. His arms, his legs, his stomach...every single part of his body ached with the blows given by the practice swords of his "sworn brothers". Just moving a finger was agony for him. Rising up and dropping on a nearby seat was hell on earth, even in the coldest place known in the four Seven Kingdoms: The Wall.
"T-They want to kill me" he panted to one of his few friends in the Watch, Jon snow. Unlike Sam, the bastard son of Eddard Stark was athletic and lean, a true warrior who had easily delt with his own opponents in the training field.
"You just need some practice, that's all" said Jon as he pulled out his armor.
"Even if I trained for ten years I would not be able to do it" groaned Sam "I am not a warrior Jon"
"You are a sworn brother of the Watch. Your duty is to fight and so you must learn if you want to survive what comes from the other side of the Wall"
"Thanks for reminding me" Sam's eyes then noticed something as Jon bent over to pull off some parts of his leg armor. Peeking out of his friend's pants was a thick line of white, with a long, name-tag showing his name right over the waistband. Grinning to himself, Sam tip-toed the few paces between them and rested all fingers on the soft surface of Jon's tighty whities "Still, I don´t think swords are all there is. We could also use...THIS!"
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