Disclaimer: I own a few OC's. George R.R. Martin owns everything else…

Chapter III

Men snored. Loud. It wasn't exactly a revelation; merely something that Ashlyn had been reminded of shortly after supper had concluded, and the last lantern had been snuffed. Miraculously, she had managed to keep her head down during the gathering and eat the entire meal without engaging in conversation. Luck had been on her side. The mood in the Common Hall had been somber during the evening hours. Not much had been said, and most had elected to keep to themselves.

Thank the gods for that, she thought to herself.

Now, sharing her flint barracks with four sleeping men, Ashlyn lay awake and chilled to the bone. Even here, with a fire smoldering in the hearth, the cold was almost unbearable. But she didn't care. It was now or never. She had to find him… her cousin was out there somewhere, and he was her final hope.

Tossing her blankets aside, she quietly slipped into her boots and climbed to her feet. She froze when one of the men stirred, but he didn't wake. She took a deep breath before moving for the only exit. Careful not to rouse the rest of her bunkmates, she fought down the knot in the pit of her stomach and slowly crept toward the door. She paused in the threshold and glanced over her shoulder one last time before stepping out into the frigid night air.

Brilliant strategy, she admonished herself. You traveled all this way. Now what?

Not sure where to begin, she pulled her hood up and turned to begin her search. She nearly let out a shriek when she bumped into a rather portly young man. Or boy, she couldn't quite tell. He appeared to be even more startled than her, but was quicker to recover.

"Oh, beggin' your pardon!" he exclaimed, just above a whisper. Composing himself, he furrowed a brow and squinted through the darkness. "You're one of the new recruits, aren't you?"

"Yes," was Ashlyn's blunt response.

Lower, she reminded herself. You have to talk lower! Like a man…

"What's your name?" he asked.

She cleared her throat before saying, "Gyrdan."

Brief and to the point. Her answers would have to be brief and to the point. She sounded fairly ridiculous, and would run the risk of revealing herself if she spoke too much. The same could be said if she spoke too little. How would she get out of this?

"I'm Samwell Tarly, but everyone 'round here just calls me Sam. Most everyone, anyway," the rotund boy replied with a shrug. After a moment, he narrowed his eyes. "What are you doin' out here?"

Ashlyn couldn't tell if the question was asked out of suspicion, or a genuine curiosity. "I had to, uuh… you know."

"Oh, I see," he gave an awkward nod as her meaning slowly dawned on him. Turning, he motioned back the way he had come. "The lavatory's that way, but I'd be quick about it. This time of night it's best to stay in your quarters, if you can help it."

Ashlyn remained silent. Visibly uncomfortable, he hastily bid farewell and resumed his previous course. She stepped aside while he brushed past her and went about his business. That was when she blurted it out…

"Lord Urick!"

Dolt! she inwardly cursed. What are you doing?

"You know him, I mean," she elaborated, noting the puzzled look on the young man's face as he peered back at her. "Lord Urick? A Ranger. I was instructed to report to him at first light."

"Lord Urick, you say?" he wondered aloud. "Don't know him personally, but I recognize the name. Last I heard, he was riding out beyond the Wall. Not too sure why they would assign you to him…"

"I must be mistaken," Ashlyn replied, doing her best to hide her dismay and failing miserably.

Without so much as another word, she spun on her heels and made for the lavatory. Anything to be alone, if even for a moment. She had to get away. Suddenly, her heart was pounding so fiercely that she thought it would burst from her chest. He was gone. Not there. But for how long? She would find no help, no hope, in this dreary place. Not without him. How could fate be so cruel?

Tears of despair stung in the corners of Ashlyn's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She was not that weak. She would find another way to reach him. It wasn't over. Not yet. She wouldn't give up… she couldn't.

He was still out there, somewhere.