Helpful Wildling Girl [] [WINNER]

Written by WhatAnArtist

Sam wrapped his black cloak tighter around himself. His teeth were chattering endlessly as the brutally cold winds racked his bones. He held out his hands near a small fire some brothers were standing around for a few moments before continuing on to the Lord Commander's chamber. He had been reading up on various theories on how to more efficiently defeat the wights in battle, and Sam knew this was the kind of thing Jon would want to know about immediately.

Sam climbed the rickety wooden stairs of the tower, opened the door and went into the hallway, relieved to at least be out of the bitter cold. He closed the door behind him and walked down the hallway. Jon's chamber was the last door on the left. He approached it and knocked on the door.

"Just a moment!" came Jon's shout from inside.

Sam could have sworn he heard hurried whispering from inside the Lord Commander's chamber. The Samwell Tarly of two years ago would have ignored this as it being none of his business, but this new Samwell Tarly - the man that had killed a White Walker and defended the Wall from a wildling army - was not the same boy that he was then. Unable to restrain his curiosity, Sam got down on one knee and peeked through a hole in the wooden door, no larger than a small coin.

"What in the world is this?" he muttered to himself, perhaps a little too loudly.

What he saw was Jon sitting in his chair behind his desk, and the chair was turned so it faced towards the left wall. He had his head back and his eyes closed. For a few moments Sam had no idea what was going on, until a figure stood up from behind the desk. It was... Gilly?!

Sam was speechless. What he saw looked like... but no. It couldn't be. Jon would never, and Gilly would certainly not...

...but what else could it be?

Sam hurriedly got back to his feet and took a couple of steps back when he saw Gilly approaching the door. She opened it and stepped out into the hallway. Sam got one quick look at her seemingly wiping her lips before she saw Sam there. She immediately blushed and averted her eyes.

"Oh, hello Sam."

Sam didn't know what to say, and just sputtered the words "yeshellogilly" before walking past her and avoiding eye contact. He closed the door behind him and turned to face Jon, who was now standing up and-

...was he just tying up his breeches?

Sam shook his head and rubbed his brow. Something had been going on here, but... no, he didn't even want to think about it. He did all he could to put what he was desperately trying not to think of out of his mind and he got to the business he came to the tower to address. But during his entire conversation with the Lord Commander Sam couldn't think straight, and Jon noticed his friend's strange behaviour, but he said nothing.

Half an hour later Sam left the Lord Commander's chamber and descended gloomily down the steps to the training yard. His head was bent and he was in a foul mood when he saw a blunt practice sword lying on the snow. It must have been tossed their by one of the recruits when he finished his training. Sam was going to leave it there, but he knew Jon didn't approve of laziness, so Sam cursed as he bent down and picked it up. At least taking it to the armoury would give him something to do other than brooding and thinking about... that.

Sam, with the sword in one hand, was just outside the armoury when he heard some odd noises coming from within. He narrowed his eyes and pressed his ear against the armoury's wooden door. He heard what sounded like panting, as well as low groans and the shuffling of clothes. Fed up with not knowing what had been going on today, Sam ignored all common sense and pushed open the armoury door.

But he wished he hadn't.

He so wished he hadn't had to see Gilly bent over an empty sword barrel, her cheap woollen skirts pulled up as she was taken from behind while also her face was pressed into the crotch of another. The panting was the recruit's who was thrusting into her from behind, one hand of his holding up her skirts while the other hand rested on the small of her back. The groaning was Gilly's, who clearly would have preferred not being taken by two men at once - though truth be told her 'lovers' were more like eighteen or nineteen years old.

But they were not alone, much to Sam's disgust. Standing by the far wall watching this... incident... were five, no, six other young recruits, nasty smiles twisted on their faces as they were reaching into their breeches.

"Oi, Pate, you've had enough time with her," said one of the recruits by the wall. "Lemme have a turn."

"Piss off," Pate shot back, putting both of his hands on the back of Gilly's head and holding it firmly in place.

Eventually they noticed they were being watched, but rather than being angry they seemed very amused.

"Oh, hey there Tarly, come to join in, or are you more the watchin' type?" one recruit asked.

Upon hearing Sam's name Gilly tried to turn her head, but the recruit she was pleasuring with her mouth forcefully held her back in place.

"Wh-what is... what is this?" Sam sputtered, not being able to muster the mental fortitude to form a proper sentence.

"You weren't told?" another recruit asked, genuinely surprised. "Gilly here's been assigned the job of relieving us recruits of all the stresses of trainin'. Rather a good way to go about it, eh?"

Sam simply dropped the practice sword he was carrying and began backing out of the armoury when he bumped into somebody. Turning, he saw Jon.

"Jon- I mean, Lord Commander," Sam began, trying to form his sentences properly. "These recruits are... they're... look what they're doing to Gilly!"

Jon coolly surveyed the scene taking place in the armoury and then looked back at Sam, his expression blank.

"Sam, I believe the maestor needs help feeding the ravens. Do be so good and go and help him. I'll deal with this."

Sam was about to protest, but Jon's cold, firm gaze convinced him otherwise. As Sam nodded and hurried out of the armoury, the last thing he saw was...

...he saw Jon taking a few steps forwards and reaching down for his breeches. The door closed shut with a thud and Sam heard the recruits laugh from inside.

It was dark when Sam finally saw Gilly walk out of the armoury, her expression as cold and empty of life as he had ever seen. She was looking down at the snow as she walked, with what saw thought was the slight suggestion of a limp. Gilly never spoke of what happened in the armoury, but the other recruits certainly did, laughing and joking about it in the hall the next morning, and also describing the various crude ways they'd taken her: "Then when I'd finished, all in her mouth, we got two in there..." "Hah! Remember how we spread her legs and then all three of us..."

Sam could have sworn he also heard one of them saying, "...and Jon said he'd let us 'ave her every afternoon from now on. How bloody good is that, eh? Who would have a thought such a small woman could... well, take so much in at once!"