Torrhen and Winter arrived at the training yard as Bran stood over Prince Tommen with a wooden sword ready to whack him as the Prince rolled on the ground trying to get up with all that padding he wore. The men laughed. The Pack the loudest among them. It seems that the yard was the entertainment for the day to them. Besides Torrhen had asked Ser Cleyton Whyte to look at how well Bran fought. Torrhen hated fighting in front of people, it would show his fighting style to a man with a sharp eye. So whenever he took part in a tourney on his travels he would go in as a mystery knight.

"Enough!" Ser Rodrick called out. He gave the Prince a hand. "Well fought. Lew, Donnis, help them out of their armor." He looked around. "Prince Joffrey, Robb, will you go another round?"

"Gladly," said Robb.

Joffrey stepped forward looking bored, "This is a game for children, Ser Rodrick."

Torrhen laughed when Theon said derisively with a burst of laughter, "You are children."

Even though Torrhen and Robb were twins of the same age. It was hard to see similarity between them. Robb took more after his mother's side with a stocky build, blue eyes, and thick red-brown hair while Torrhen had the Stark's grey eyes, brown hair with a better built body from his travels. Making him appear taller and stronger than Robb.

"Robb may be a child," Joffrey said. "I am a prince. And I grow tired of swatting at Starks with a play sword."

"You got more swats than you gave, Joff," Robb said. "Are you afraid?"

Prince Joffrey looked at him. "Oh, terrified," he said. "You're so much older." Some of the Lannister men laughed.

Torrhen put his hand on Robb to calm him down.

Ser Rodrik tugged thoughtfully at his white whiskers. "What are you suggesting?" he asked the prince.

"Live steel."

"Done," Robb shot back. "You'll be sorry!"

Torrhen pulled Robb close to his ear and whispered, "Robb, Listen to me. He is a Prince. When he gets hurt with the blade of a sword as I know you are far better than the little shit. He will go running to his mother, Cersei and she I hear is very protective of her son. It won't do House Stark any good if you fight him with live steel."

"He called me a child," Robb said. "Would you be quiet too if he called a child to your face?"

"No," Torrhen said. "I would probably send him crying to his mother."

Robb laughed at that image.

Stolen story; please report.

"But," Torrhen said. "I am not the one inheriting Father's titles and I won't be his Vassal Lord when he becomes King after Robert dies. Robb you are the Heir to father and you must always think about the future and House Stark before your own feelings."

Robb nodded.

The master-at-arms said, "Live steel is too dangerous. I will permit you tourney swords, with blunted edges."

Joffrey said nothing, but a man strange to Arya, a tall knight with black hair and burn scars on his face, pushed forward in front of the prince. "This is your prince. Who are you to tell him he may not have an edge on his sword, ser?"

"He is the Master-at-arms of Winterfell," Torrhen said before Ser Rodrick could respond. "Lord Stark chose him to train the men in the Yard. And even your Prince, Clegane has to obey Ser Rodrick if he wants to make use of the yard in Winterfell."

"Are you training women here?" the burned man said as he looked at Torrhen.

"I am training knights," Ser Rodrik said pointedly. "They will have steel when they are ready. When they are of an age."

The burned man looked at Robb. "How old are you, boy?"

"Fourteen," Robb said.

"I killed a man at twelve. You can be sure it was not with a blunt sword."

Torrhen could see Robb bristle. His pride was wounded. He turned away from Torrhen to Ser Rodrik. "Let me do it. I can beat him."

"And I killed a man when I was far younger than you Clegane," Torrhen said. "Besides, when the Prince goes crying to his mother with a small scratch won't you get blamed for that. After all you are the one put in charge to babysit the Prince I hear."

The men laughed around the yard. Torrhen heard his Sister Arya's and Jon's loud laugh coming from the walkway connecting the two buildings.

Clegane took a step towards Torrhen half unsheathing the sword but stopped when the Pack put their hands on theirs and Winter bared his teeth at Clegane giving him a bark filled with warning of what he could do to him if he took another step towards Torrhen.

Torrhen stood there without moving an inch from before. "Clegane, I would not recommend drawing your sword at me. I have heard of Your House's notoriety, especially your brother. You were given Guest Rights by Lord Stark. If you were to break it by drawing your sword in my Father's own home I would have to put you down like a dog would be put down for being rabid. I wouldn't mind putting you down, that is if you still want to draw your sword at me."

"That is enough Torrhen," Ser Rodrick said. "Keep your sword sheathed Clegane."

Joffrey called back his dog and said something and left the training yard with the Lannister men.

"You have got a mouth on you," Clegane said. "Either you are very brave or very stupid to insult me to my face."

"My companions would say I am neither," Torrhen said turning to his Pack.

The Pack laughed as Owen Whitebeard said, "The lad's just mad."

Torrhen turned to the Burned man with a smile.

Sandor Clegane left with a grunt.

But Torrhen's smile left his face as quick as the wind. Sandor's brother Gregor Clegane, most simply call him as the Mountain, was a thorn to Torrhen. That animal was a sadistic murderer and rapist with an evil reputation.

The stories Torrhen heard from his men, who give him information, about how the Mountain kills and rapes with savagery to the small folk he meets not to mention how he got away with smashing the infant Prince Aegon Targaryen against the wall and raping and killing the mother, Princess Elia Martell, a women of high birth of one of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms.

Torrhen wanted to give him the gift but the monster rarely ever left his lands except for wars or tourneys. So Torrhen bid his time well upon the advice of his Pack but Torrhen knew that every day the Dog was not put down, the dog would go on killing and raping the small folk without any fear.

Torrhen decided that the next time he would cross paths with the Mountain, he would not let him leave alive even if it meant his death.