The northern group advanced toward their verdant destiny, now less bothered by the northern chill. They had left Barrowton a few moons ago, sending ravens to Winterfell to share news of their well-being. They kept their winter clothes on the small caravan and bought new ones suited to the damp and swampy climate. Of course, the complaints never ceased to come.
"Why don't we go faster and get the hell out of this fucking swamp?" groaned Theon, voicing aloud Robb's and Jon's complaints. Dom, now part of their group, responded.
"For an Ironborn, you sure like to complain. Isn't the Iron Islands more watery and damp than this?"
"I am not complaining. I am just deeply offended by the disgusting quantity of mud on this road. In the Iron Islands it is damp and it rains, but at least we can walk without bathing in mud at every step. Isn't this the King's Road or something? Lovely road, worthy of a king," he went on.
"Theon, Theon, Theon… the fact that we are using the King's Road is much, much better than the alternatives. You would be swimming in mud by now if you did. Think about it — the chosen one of the Drowned Mud God. My, my, the bards would sing about you for ages, your name carved in the history books," mocked Sebastian to an angry Theon.
"Theon the mud eater," said Robb in a low voice.
"Theon Mudjoy?" whispered Jon while discussing an appropriate title with Robb.
"More like Theon the drowned in dirt," added Domeric loudly.
Then the unexpected happened, a handful of mud struck Theon's face.
Silence spread like shattered glass. The two brothers tried to keep their laughter from spilling out. Domeric did not have such reservations.
"Hahahaha!" His melodious laugh broke the tension, and soon laughter overcame the group.
"You little shits!" said Theon, quickly dismounting his horse and throwing mud at Domeric's face. Domeric evaded, and it struck Robb instead.
"You like it! Hahaha!" exlaimed Theon.
Robb and Jon shared a look. They also dismounted their horses and threw mud toward Theon, only for him to dodge and point toward Domeric. Domeric tried to dodge like before, but a third mudball appeared, redirecting the previous two squarely into his head.
He cleaned his face and looked at an unassuming Sebastian, now standing beside Ser Cassel and the other veterans in their group, while the children literally played in the mud. Domeric sighed, knowing full well that Sebastian had started it all. Even then, fighting him was a lost cause, so he dismounted his horse and joined the most absurd but enjoyable mudfight alongside Jon, Robb, Theon, and several squires of similar age.
Meanwhile, Sebastian and some of the older generation calmly began preparing camp, knowing full well that the lads would end tired, hungry, and thoroughly coated in mud. Amid the chaos, Jon felt a quiet thread of dread creep in as Sebastian spoke with Ser Cassel — and Ser Cassel smiled.
"Whooo…" Theon wheezed, out of breath but unwilling to yield. "Who the fuck thought it was a marvelous idea…" He tried to recompose himself. He failed.
"To train in the middle of the fucking mud, after all of that…" he finally said, breathless but no less angry.
"I…" Domeric wheezed beside him. "I have to agree with Mudjoy on that…"
"Oh shut up, muddy leech…"
"Wanna go again?..." Dom proposed, out of breath but unbroken, while Robb and Jon wisely stepped aside toward Ser Cassel.
"Ladies, please behave," cut in Sebastian, enjoying every second of their suffering.
Domeric and Theon shared a look of realization.
THIS FUCKER x2, they both thought.
They were tired, hungry, and filthy. Domeric extended his hand, and Theon took it.
"Are you coming or not?" they called, and Robb, Jon, and the other boys followed with changes of clothes. They made their way to the Fever River to clean themselves, muttering complaints and plans for revenge while veterans patrolled the area.
Sebastian moved to follow, but Ser Cassel's words stopped him.
"Was it necessary? We are now one day behind and will have to camp for the night," he asked, not reproachfully, but out of curiosity.
"The children had energy to spare. A mudfight was all they needed to spend it. The training afterward was a bonus. Now they will sleep like logs tonight, and they will groan in pain tomorrow," said Sebastian.
"Children, eh? I am certain I saw a child throwing that first mudball at Greyjoy's face," Ser Cassel added.
"No idea what you are talking about, Ser Cassel. Now off I go to ensure a fire, so that my lords do not freeze through stupidity." Sebastian followed their trail, gathering branches along the way.
.
.
.
After a while, they returned in much better spirits, though Sebastian now wore unusual clothes and carried a chilling aura around him.
Recognizing their culprit at last, the children seized him and threw him into the freezing water, leaving him drenched like a wet rat.
Of course, Sebastian promised revenge.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
As expected, the boys slept like logs. But the early bird always catches the worm.
"Wake up, everyone! How are you feeling?" said Sebastian, delight evident in his voice.
Robb and Jon recognized that suspicious delight immediately but kept quiet. Groans followed from the tents as the boys woke.
"The food is ready for you to break fast. You are all growing, and growing bodies require nourishment. I have prepared something wonderful."
He continued speaking as a rich smell drifted through the camp.
"I present to you a vast selection of grey worms for my early birds, accompanied by snail stew, fried in lard frog legs, and my favorite, bear offal inside its stomach, also known as haggis. I caught a bear today only for you so that you may enjoy it."
The reaction was immediate. Some gagged. One stableboy ran and vomited. Another vomited while running.
Jon, ever observant, spoke carefully.
"But… didn't you say you caught a bear? Can't we just... eat it...?"
Sebastian slowly turned his head toward him and replied in a cheerful tone.
"I would, if I could, Jon. Sadly, some children played in the mud, trained, then slept so soundly they neglected their watch. Ser Cassel and our guards took their turns protecting you all. A portion of the bear goes to Ser Cassel. The rest I am smoking for the journey. So now, will you eat, or will you go hungry? I even gathered those worms, snails, and frogs myself. Would you be so mean as to despise my food? So cruel as to despise my effort?"
Sebastian's gentle pressure (gaslightning) worked like a charm. The eldest among them, Domeric and Theon, wisely said nothing and ate the haggis. The quantities were limited, and they would rather eat bear than be seen eating frogs, snails, or worms.
The rest followed. The slowest among them were left with worms and snails.
And so their small group learned a lesson that any maester might never teach, but the veterans knew it by heart:
Never mess with the cook.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _
A/N: I enjoyed writing this. I watched some scenes of the knight of the seven kingdoms and I loved it. I also wanted to write the boys doing stupid stuff (like egg and dunk). Like, throw stones, comment, review, or dont. Its alright