Soon. That's what he'd said to her. But that was three weeks ago.
She'd imagined they'd have found a way to get time together - pretending to fetch wood, a shack they could sneak off to, something. But no. Only four days after the...event...in the tumbledown shed the Brotherhood had been set upon by Wildlings. Wildlings who apparently worked with the Night's Watch. They had been taken to Eastwatch and locked in the cells.
The most galling part was as they had been marched as captives, Maud realised they had only been about a day's walk away from the Wall.
But now they were here, in cells where it was never warm, and they couldn't tell day from night. The Wildlings had offered her a cell to herself, but she refused. She claimed it was too cold by herself, making Thoros snort something which sounded suspiciously like "I know who could warm you up." And warm her up that man did - she'd taken to sharing one of the lumpy beds with Sandor. It wasn't quite what she'd wanted, but it felt like before.
"My scouts found them a mile south of the Wall. Said they were on their way here." The booming voice of one of the Wildlings caused the Brotherhood to stir in their cells.
As they looked out, they saw a series of pale faces staring back at them. The ginger man with a beard Maud recognised, but the others were new.
"You're The Hound. I saw you once at Winterfell!" A young man with dark hair said, staring at Sandor.
Sandor ignored him, pulling a blanket tight around himself and sitting up on the bed.
"They want to go beyond the Wall too," the ginger Wildling said.
"We don't want to go beyond the Wall, we have to. Our lord told us the great war is coming," Beric explained.
"Don't trust them. Don't trust any of them," a younger man with close cropped hair said, his voice angry. He walked up and pressed his face to the bars of the cell. "They're the Brotherhood. And the last thing their Lord told them to do was sell me to a Red Witch to be murdered."
Maud looked at her companions. Thoros and Beric had a tinge of guilt that did not bode well.
"Thoros?" An older blond-ish man now peered in. Thoros looked up from the dark corner he was occupying. "I hardly recognized you," the man continued.
"Ser Jorah Mormont?" Thoros questioned. "They won't give me anything to drink down here. I haven't been feeling like myself."
The ginger Wildling turned on the blond man. "You're a fucking Mormont? Like the last Lord Commander?"
"He was my father." The man responded, calmly.
"He hunted us like animals."
"You returned the favor, as I recall," Mormont replied.
"Here we all are at the edge of the world at the same moment heading in the same direction for the same reason," Beric said, changing the subject. Maud smiled to herself. Despite his skill with a sword, he was good at that - being the peacemaker.
"Our reasons aren't your reasons," responded the oldest man. His hair was grey and he looked like he had seen a lot.
"It doesn't matter what we think our reasons are," Beric said, standing up and walking towards the bars of the cell. "There's a greater purpose at work and we serve it together whether we know it or not. We may take the steps but the Lord of Light…"
"For fuck's sake, will you shut your hole" Sandor cut him off. "Are we coming with you or not?"
"Don't you want to know what we're doing?" Mormont asked.
"Is it worse than sitting in a freezing cell waiting to die?" Thoros responded, dryly.
"He's right. We're all on the same side," the man with black hair said. He had sad eyes, Maud noticed.
"How can we be?" The young man with the close cut hair was buzzing with anger. He said he'd been sold to a witch? Maud was determined to hear that story.
"We're all breathing." The dark-haired man said, ominously. His words sent a shiver through Maud's spine, even as he opened the door to let them out the cells.
It was amazing the difference a bath and some fresh clothes could make. Maud had been given a pair of trousers and shirt that had obviously belonged to a young man. She didn't mind though, even though they were well-worn with yellowed sweat rings under the arms they were clean - a lot more than she could say for her old clothes.
Once the Brotherhood members were clean, they were taken into a room to discuss the plan. The black haired man was called Jon Snow and he was 'King in the North'. Maud hadn't recognised him, but he was the one who had led and won the battle of the bastards, as it was now known. He was working with a Targaryen Queen (Maud called her 'dragon lady') and was looking to prove that the dead really were walking by capturing one of the wights.
Him and his men thought that by being able to prove that the wights were real, Cersei would stop fighting them. Maud and Sandor were doubtful - Cersei was only a fan of anything that could benefit herself. They had a sneaking suspicion that the Lannister woman would rather the wights killed off her enemy in the north than team up to get rid of them.
"Aye, we'll join you," Beric said, interrupting Maud's thoughts. "Our plan - before we were captured", he gave a pointed look at the ginger Wildling, "was to help to fight the wights."
The ginger threw his hand up in the air. "Well, we can't just let people through. A wall works both ways, you know!"
"Since when do Wildlings even help the Watch?" Maud asked curiously.
The ginger man smiled at her. "Since Jon Snow here helped us."
Snow looked uncomfortable. "Let's get back to the matter at hand. If you're happy to join us, we will leave tomorrow at first light. A dozen of us."
"Who's the others?" Thoros asked, swigging deeply from a skin of wine.
"Five other Wildlings have agreed to join us," the ginger man said.
Sandor's eyes went round the room. "That makes fourteen. But I reckon you Wildlings aren't skilled at mathematics."
"It's twelve," the old man said in his lilting voice. "I'm not going, and neither is the female in your group."
"The hell I amn't!" Maud exploded. "I can bloody fight. I fought for you before," she said, nodding at Snow. "I helped you fight when that Bolton bastard took your brother. But now I can't join you? Bullshit!"
Snow looked at her, as if trying to remember her, but clearly came up short. "It's not because you're a girl. It's…" He couldn't finish his sentence and Maud wanted to slap him. If he wasn't technically a king she might have. Girl, indeed. She was at least as old as him!
"He's right," Sandor said, and Maud swivelled indignantly to look at him. Sandor she could slap. "Not because you're a woman. Because you're an archer. Archers can't do shit against the dead, unless maybe you can get flaming arrows."
Maud scowled. He was bloody right, the asshole. Arrows were good for bringing people down or slowing them - but wights weren't people.
"Fine," she said, heavily. "Bloody fine."
It was hours later, planning completed and dinner eaten, when Thoros came to visit Maud.
"I need you to promise to take care of Beric," he said, barging into her room without as much as a hello.
Maud looked at him, confused. "How in R'hllor's name can I take care of him when I'm not allowed to come with you? Nice job taking my side, by the way."
Thoros sighed, offering Maud a drink of wine before he sat heavily on her bed. She had been lucky to get a room to herself since she was female. Part of her had wanted to bring Sandor to share the room with her, but she had not been brazen enough to ask for the roommate when shown the way.
"I don't mean tomorrow. I mean...after. I need you here to look after him."
A chill went down Maud's spine as she sat on the bed beside her friend and mentor. "What do you mean?"
"I'm going to die," Thoros said, matter-of-factly. "This expedition beyond the wall is where I die. I know it. I've known for a while."
"So why did you come?" Maud cried, her heart breaking. Over the years she had become close to Thoros: he was her companion and confidant. "You don't need to go. You stay here, I'll take your place. Or the rest can go and you stay here with me."
"It doesn't work like that, lass," Thoros said softly, taking Maud's hand. "You know it. And I shouldn't be telling you. But I need you to promise to care for Beric. I know you can't bring him back, not yet, but I reckon if you practice you could eventually become a High Priestess."
Visions of one's own death was rare - for this reason in particular. People were likely to avoid doing whatever killed them. But not Thoros. People might think him a drunk or a joker, but he was a good man at heart. And he would do whatever it took.
"I'll look after Beric," Maud said softly, "If you look after Sandor as long as you can." She squeezed Thoros's hand as he nodded his acceptance.
The pair sat in silence for a few minutes until Thoros got up with a sigh. "Right. Last night before I shuffle off this realm. I'm off to drink, pray and see if I can find one of those Wildling shield women I've heard so much about."
Despite herself, Maud chuckled. But when he left her room, she couldn't help the tears falling down her cheeks.