Fandom: Game of Thrones

Characters: Sam, Grenn, Edd, Jon

Author: m_findlow

Rating: M (language)

Length: 1,091 words

Content notes: none

Author notes: Written for Challenge 355 - Bird

Summary: Sam is extremely anxious about having to join their party north.

Sam felt his stomach begin to twist in knots at the prospect that his assigned task was about to become a reality.' But I don't think I want to be master of ravens,' he complained, still feeling taken aback by the lord Commander's request that he join them.

'Well, you're not master of your own destiny, that's for sure,' Edd replied, lugging a heavy saddle and bridle set across the courtyard, adding it to the large pile of supplies being prepared for their journey north. 'None of us are.'

Sam tried to downplay the brutal honesty of Edd's response. 'All I'm saying is that ranging is for rangers. I'm a steward,' he added, as if that was going to invalidate the Lord Commander's orders.

'Nobody wants to go north,' Grenn told him. 'There's fuck all up there but snow and Wildlings and an arrow through the heart for anyone wearing black.'

'There's white walkers too,' Sam added, shuddering with fear.

'Rubbish,' Green said, snorting with derision.

'Then what attacked the Lord Commander, hmm? Jon said it's eyes glowed blue. That's what all the old stories say.'

'Half the Night's Watch can barely read let alone write,' Edd replied. 'Gods knows who wrote that.'

Sam was about to defend the authors of those dusty old tomes when he was interrupted by a crackling voice. 'Samwell,' Maester Aemon called out, feeling his way blindly along the snow dusted banister, taking each step as if he were a man with perfect vision. 'Make sure you see Hobb and get him to pack you several salted carcasses. The ravens need to be well fed to make it back to Castle Black.'

Grenn rolled his eyes. 'Salted beef? Bloody birds will be eating better than us,' he complained. 'Twelve bushels of potatoes and two bushels of onions, that's all I got given for the rest of us. Hope those ravens are good and fat by the time that runs out. I won't be the only one looking for a good roasted raven to fill my belly.'

'Not much good in your belly if we need one to send for help,' Edd added.

'We can just send Sam.'

'Then we're all really fucked.'

Sam cast a disparagingly worried look between the pair of them. 'They wouldn't do that, would they? Send me back on my own?'

Edd heaved a second heavy pile of leathers, tossing on top of the rest. 'No offense, but they're not wasting a horse on you. Not when there's every chance you wouldn't make it back anyway.'

'All our hopes resting on a clutch of ravens of it all goes tits up,' Grenn snorted.

Sam trundled away before Edd and Grenn could make any more comments about what they thought of his inclusion in their sortie. It didn't matter that they were all true and that for the most part he agreed with them. Just thinking about going beyond the Wall made his stomach churn. He managed to dodge past Ser Alliser and a handful of others he wouldn't count as friends, keeping his head low as he wound past them without further incident. Perhaps if he hid then they'd eventually leave without him, but where would he hide that no one could find him? The library had seemed a good idea, but that was likely to be the first place they'd check. Better he tried to hide in the armory or the stables, or perhaps in the bottom of Hobb's largest cook pot.

'Sam!' He heard Jon's voice call out his name and he cringed. Jon was walking towards him, Longclaw hanging at his hip like he'd always meant to wear it. Jon was a ranger even if he was the lord Commander's personal steward. He was made for trips beyond the Wall, all brave and skilled with a sword in his hand. Sam's resolve to be brave crumbled in an instant at the sight of Jon's sword and what it had killed just the night before. 'I can't do this, Jon,' he blurted out. 'I'm not meant to go beyond the Wall.'

Jon didn't even blink at the cowardly admission. 'You're a man of the Night's Watch now, Sam. Your duty is to your Lord Commander.'

'That's easy for you to say. You always wanted to be a ranger. I'm just a steward. I just help carry Maester Aemon's books and feed his ravens.'

Jon's earnest brown eyes bored into him. 'We can't take Maester Aemon beyond the Wall, you know that. How else are we to get word back to Castle Black if we don't take ravens?'

'But why me? Clydas was helping Maester Aemon long before I was here.'

Jon's lips pursed as if he didn't have an answer for that. Sam assumed that meant someone wanted to punish him by sending him along, but if he was so hopeless then why take him at all? It surely had to have been better to leave him behind. Safer for all of them not to have to wait for him to bring up that rear, as he surely would. He didn't even know how he'd walk all those miles through that freezing snow on foot. He'd barely made it from Horn Hill to Castle Black on horseback, convinced he'd die on the Kingsroad even if his Father's men didn't catch up with him.

'Commander Mormont requested you, Sam. We have to go north and find out what's happening out there. And find my Uncle Benjen.'

Sam nodded dutifully, feeling even more ashamed, as if it were John commanding him and not their Lord Commander. Somehow it felt more important not to let Jon down than it did everyone else at Castle Black. Jon was the only one who believed he could do things he knew he couldn't, but it didn't stop him wanting to not disappoint his friend.

'You'll have us there with you,' Jon added. Edd and Grenn and me. 'Nothing bad will happen, you have my word.' And with that, he gripped the pommel of his sword and began making long strides back towards the Lord Commander's tower.

Sam wandered slowly towards the corner of the keep where ravens were being loaded into their cages and then onto a sled wagon. Clydas was there and scowled unhappily at him, saying nothing and then walking away. Sam stood there and started at the clutch of black messengers. They cawed at him in greeting and he sighed deeply, feeling a sense of foreboding pressing heavily on him. 'Oh, seven hells.'