Being amongst the people as a rather new and foreign person in a castle of men was not favorable to most men.. unless you were a harlot, I guess.

Dirty and stinky as some of them were, they thought they were the shit, especially with you for god knows what reason. Small touches and sky words would make you uneasy around some of them. Even Jamie took notice of this.

What really made him flip his top was the fact that one of the —drunker— men tried to usher you towards a lone room, clearly not reading the fact that you did not want him and were trying to subtly decline his advances without being unkind.

His jaw set, excusing himself from the conversation he was having with a quick, fake smile. Soft pads from his boots hit the floor only to be muted down from the sheer loudness of the area they were currently in.

“Aye!” He said, a little loud but not too loud to draw the attention of the people around him and you.

“Bile yer’ heid,” he growled, putting his arm around your waist rather possessively even though you weren’t his and he wasn’t yours. He was concerned about you, that’s all. He didn’t want to see the person who helped him with his dislocated shoulder get harassed. You didn’t deserve that, no.