This was inspired by sunstar234, one of my fabulous readers who introduced me to this incredible show. Please read, review, and enjoy. =)

When the new recruits were shuffled into the camp, voices grew still and eyes fixed upon the trembling bodies. None looked to be over twenty years of age and Jon Snow's heart sunk into his empty stomach. The pathetic bunch could barely fight off the cold, let alone wield a sword. He bit down on his back teeth, watching the group of misfits as they were herded into the dining hall. From the doorway, Alliser scowled at him and motioned with a swift nod of his head. Jon obeyed and looked away, starting once again towards the lift. The wind whistled around the wooden planks beneath his feet and Jon closed his eyes as he walked. This was his life now: cold. A scuffle of feet sounded behind him and he glanced back. A round boy with dark hair nodded to him with a flurry of breath.

"How many?" Sam whispered, trundling along side him. Jon shook his head, making his dark curly locks dance around his face.

"No more than ten." His friend remained silent, taking quick glances back down the path. It had been almost a fortnight since Sam had come to the Wall. Being the newest wasn't his burden any longer. "Ten more starved, frightened boys." Jon grumbled, pulling his furs closer to his neck. The bitter, cold air blew forcefully as they grew closer to the looming ice ahead. Sam peeked at his friend's face, hearing the irritation in his voice.

"They could be no worse than me." He said with a small grin, hoping to evoke a laugh. Jon managed a small smile and clapped Sam on the shoulder. In truth, Sam Tarley was the worst recruit to take the oath of the Night's Watch. He couldn't fight, he was afraid of heights, and he couldn't run. When you're all that stands between the horrors of the North and the people of the South, one should, at least, be able to run.

"Give it time, Sam." Jon said softly. He hadn't been able to teach him quite yet, but he intended to get his corpulent friend's skills to an acceptable level before they were forced to leave. They would be sent to other posts and castles along the Wall, possibly separated forever by the great distance. Sam smiled under his companion's arm; he was proud to be called the friend of Jon Snow. But to Jon, the name meant nothing. He was a bastard and he had no place in this land. So, the illegitimate son of Ned Stark had retreated here, swearing his life over to an ancient guard, to take the black. The Night's Watch had dwindled in numbers until all that was left were the tired, the criminal, and the outcast; abandoned sons of shameless fathers.

"Do you have long?" Sam asked meekly, rubbing his hands together in the freezing air. Jon shrugged.

"Until dark." He murmured. They reached the lift of iron and wood and Jon released Sam's shoulders. He unlatched the gate and stepped forward. Neither boy spoke as the cage closed around Jon once again, locking him inside for the ride. No one enjoyed their shifts atop the giant wall of ice, but then again, no one enjoyed anything here.

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Her hands were painfully cold, chilled so badly that her nails felt as though they were piercing her fingers. She fought hard to maintain the same demeanor as the boys surrounding her. They clutched their hands under their arms, working to restore warmth to their limbs. Scared faces held the majority and she decided to join the ranks, darting her eyes between her neighbors like the frightened child she was; definitely was. Her eighteenth name day had only been a few months prior and many of the young men standing around her were already that, if not older. She stood over a foot shorter than most of them and her body was small, stick thin in comparison. With a stroke of luck, she had managed to pass herself off as a runt of a boy.

An older man with black furs and thick boots walked in front of them as they lined up against a wall. Tables filled the room but no one sat, they all just stared as their leader examined each of their faces. He had small eyes and rough cheeks; grey stubble lined his jaw and white curls started far back on his forehead, cascading around his ears. His dark glare was unsettling as he stalked slowly down the line.

"You have been sent here to protect your families, your cities, and your kingdom." He stated with a growl. Her spine tingled, fear of her choice finally settling in. This had been a noble idea but a foolish endeavor.

"You will defend the South from the wildlings of the North as men of the Night's Watch." The boys shifted, some lowering their heads and some raising them. Was it a curse or a blessing? An honor or damnation? A boy next to her let a tear roll down his cheek.

"Do you renounce your lives in service to your king?" The officer halted, glaring down at her, the shortest of the pack. He had picked her out quickly.

"Well?" He leaned down and stared into her face. His breath smelled of old meat and stale air. She swallowed her fear and squared her shoulders.

"Yes, sir." She grunted. He narrowed his eyes and stood once again, looking up and down the stretch of boys.

"WELL?"

"YES, SIR!" They all chanted in unison. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest and she couldn't help the feeling of pride. Despite her upbringing and sworn fate, here she was.

The first woman of the Night's Watch.

That was just a taste. Let me know if you'd like to hear more. =)