For the first few days of their journey, neither Grenn nor Edd asked her questions, though, judging from their mannerisms, Caitie could tell they wanted to.

As they made their way through the Haunted Forest, Edd would stare at her uncomfortably, obviously wanting answers but not knowing what questions he needed to ask to gain them. When he wasn't doing that, he was muttering obscenities, usually about the mutineers.

Grenn, on the other hand, seemed… stiff was the best way to describe it. He said as few words as he could get away with, and he tried to keep his distance from Caitie whenever possible. He could barely bring himself to look at her.

And it hurt. As much as she hated it, Caitie liked Grenn—she had ever since she'd met him, the stupid little girl that she was.

On the third day of travel, they came to the first abandoned Wildling village. Caitie voiced her opinion that they should stop early. The two men agreed, and after starting a fire and getting settled in one of the huts, Edd approached her. "You said you'd explain."

Grenn was apparently too curious to resist the temptation of coming over to listen.

Caitie almost refused—she was cold, tired, hungry, scared, and in rather a lot of pain from her wrists. The last thing she wanted was to discuss her past.

But she had promised, and so, forced herself to agree. "What would you like to know?

"How 'bout why a lady is pretending to be a boy in the Night's Watch."

Caitie thought very carefully about how to respond. Did she tell them what her father had done to her? Tell them about the man he would have made his only daughter marry, and for what? Some stupid alliance?

Her father charmed everyone around him—that was what he cared about: being respected, and liked, and powerful. But in private, he was a man who told his youngest son at five years old that if he couldn't be a warrior, he should be left in the cold to die. He was a man who told Owen and Cerys they were disgraces to House Norrey because they protected their younger siblings. He was a man who made it clear to Caitriona that her well-being didn't matter to him—that she didn't matter.

But the worst thing of all? It was that he made it seem as if he were trying to help his children. As if his abuse were for their own good.

Caitie knew better. He could try to manipulate her into believing everything he had done to her, to Arthur, to Owen and Cerys were because they mattered to him, but it wasn't true. All that mattered to Rendon Norrey was power and adoration, and he hated his children for keeping it out of his reach.

Caitie decided she couldn't bring herself to tell Grenn and Edd this. Not now, not after the trauma of the last month.

So, she kept the details to the minimum and relayed the basics in a few succinct sentences. "My father and I had a disagreement about my future. I refused to give in, so my brothers sent me to the Night's Watch. It was the best place to hide from him."

"Well, that makes no sense," Edd said. "You couldn't stay hidden forever. What were you gonna do when you got caught?"

"I hoped that maybe someday…" Caitie had hoped that if she were ever caught, she would be able to sneak off with no one the wiser and come home to a new Lord of Norwood—Owen. And then, she would be free to do whatever she wanted with her life.

But that was a stupid, naive dream. "It doesn't matter."

Edd hesitated, wanting to ask more. But thankfully, he respected Caitie's desire not to elaborate—her favorite of his traits—and changed the subject. "But if you're a lady, how'd you learn to fight?"

"In some parts of the North, girls are taught to fight. And I was mostly raised by my brothers—it's not as if they could teach me needlework."

Truthfully, Owen had been rather good at sewing and embroidery—he even had made Caitie a dress for her eleventh nameday. She was just terrible at it.

"Fuck," Edd shook his head, "if anyone else at Castle Black found out—"

"I would most likely get raped and then beheaded for 'dishonoring the order.' You don't need to remind me," she replied shortly.

Edd grimaced, and Grenn's expression soured even further, but neither argued with the prediction.

"Well," she said, "none of it matters if we die out here first."

That ended the conversation, at least for the moment.

The three of them mostly operated in silence for the next few hours while they carried on setting up their camp—finding a source of water, attempting to hunt for some food, and trying to tend to their wounds.

The first task was easy—the Wildlings had built this village near a stream. The second two, however, not so much. There was little to hunt, and none of them knew anything about healing. Caitie would just have to hope they reached Castle Black before they died of hunger or their injuries.

By the time they'd finished with all this, Grenn had gone from ignoring her to barely concealing his glares, and finally, late into the afternoon, Caitie decided she'd had enough. She waited until Edd went to relieve himself a few trees away, took a deep breath, and went to speak with him.

"What's wrong?"

Grenn stared at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You've spoken maybe ten words to me since we left the keep. So what is it?"

"Nothing."

"Grenn," she sighed, "this has been an awful month." An awful year, to be honest. Gods, had they been north of the wall that long, already? "I'm not in the mood for you to be evasive."

There was a pause. "Well," he finally said, scowling, "the more I've thought about it, the more I've realized it's been over a year since we met, and you never told me who you were."

"I didn't want anyone to know—"

"You said you told Sam and Jon," he ground out. "But you didn't even think about telling me, did you?"

Caitie was bristling, her hands curling into fists. She had never heard him so furious before—certainly not directed towards her.

And he had no right to be upset. Caitie was completely justified—no matter what the small voice in the back of her head told her.

"Firstly, I already told you, I didn't tell them—they found out accidentally. And secondly," she continued loudly, not allowing him the chance to interrupt, "you have no idea what it was like—being in danger like I was all the time."

He scoffed. "You really thought I'd get you killed?"

"It wasn't about that!" Caitie exclaimed though she knew it kind of was. "Seven Hells, I'm a girl in the fucking Night's Watch—you know the kind of people who end up there. You know what would happen if they found out. What if someone forced you to tell?"

"I wouldn't tell—ever. So you could've trusted me instead of lying!"

"Do you think I enjoyed it—lying to you and Edd and Pyp?" She was close to screaming now. "I hated it, but I had no choice! The more people who knew, the more dangerous it became."

When Grenn didn't answer her, she had to clench her jaw to keep a sob from escaping. "Gods, I'm still me! Just because you know my real identity now doesn't change that you know me!"

"I knew Caitie," he said. His eyes were like stone. "But I don't know Lady Caitriona, and so far, I don't think I want to."

Caitie reeled back. It felt as though he'd punched her. Honestly, she would have preferred it to what he'd just said.

"You're not being fair," a voice said behind her. She turned to look at Edd. "She was trying to survive."

The last thing Caitie expected was Dolorous Edd coming to her defense, but she was still touched that he would.

Grenn didn't care, though, and he didn't listen. All he did was growl and stomp off.

Edd turned to look at her after he'd gone and shrugged. "I'm just impressed you managed to trick us for so long."

"It wasn't easy," she muttered, trying to hold back her tears.

"Always knew you had a death wish."

The tears couldn't be held back any longer at those words because Jon had said the same thing to her once, and she missed him now more than ever.

"Y-you don't think I've disgraced the order?"

Edd shook his head. "Nah. You saw what's coming. With that and the Wildlings, we need all the help we can get. Probably won't stop us from all dying, but you know."

Always cynical, Caitie thought. But, then again, she wasn't much better. "I'd never have expected you to be so… okay with this."

"I can see you're good in a fight—I'm not stupid enough to throw that away."

It was as close to a compliment as one could get with him, and having such an open discussion made her curious. "Edd? What's your real name?"

He shifted uncomfortably.

"You know my secret."

He cleared his throat. "Eddison Tollett."

"I didn't realize you were highborn." He spoke with a lowborn accent, at least.

"Not really. Lesser branch."

Looking down at the dirt, Caitie remembered their conversation back at the keep. "You said you had a brother."

"Aye. Dunno where he is now, though."

"I'm sorry." Edd rolled his eyes once more. She should've known he'd hate pity. "Well," she said, "my brothers are fighting in the war, except my younger one. They could be dead for all I know."

"Life's pain, and then you die," he said casually. "Wish we had wine."

"One more reason to get home."

He had no answer to that, so they sat in melancholy silence. "Wonder where Grenn went," Edd said eventually, looking around.

Caitie crossed her arms. "I don't know, and I don't care." She hated that she didn't mean it.

Edd gave her a wry look. "'Course you don't," he replied sarcastically. "But I'm still gonna do you a favor and go find him."

"Fine, if it's so important to you." She waved a hand dismissively.

Edd snorted but didn't reply before he exited the little shack, leaving Caitie alone to stew on her anger.

When Grenn finally approached her late into the night, Caitie pretended to be asleep.

Somehow, Edd had persuaded him to come back, but she refused to be within ten feet of him. It wasn't until the night became too cold that they were forced into their hut together.

He touched her shoulder lightly as Caitie lay there, keeping her eyes shut tightly.

"Hey."

She ignored him, listening to the sounds of Edd's snores.

"I know you're awake. You snore when you're asleep."

Caitie bolted upright. "I do not!"

He smirked in triumph.

Realizing Grenn had only said this to get her to talk to him, she snapped, "Leave me alone."

Her tone made him pause, but only for a moment. "No."

"Fine, tell me what you want and then leave me alone."

"Caitie—"

"It's Lady Caitriona, isn't it?" she replied acidly.

He grimaced. "I deserved that."

Caitie flared her nostrils and turned her head away so he couldn't see her face.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded. She didn't move, and Grenn huffed in frustration. "Caitie, look at me."

She did not.

"Please?"

At the soft tone of voice, Caitie's resolve broke, though she still refused to do anything other than scowl.

"You're my friend," Grenn told her. "More than my friend. I—" he stopped to collect himself.

Caitie narrowed her eyes. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

Eventually, he settled on, "What I said was wrong—it was worse than wrong. I didn't mean it. I just wish you'd told me." Before she could argue, he held up a hand. "But, I get why you didn't."

There was a long bout of silence before Caitie broke it. "I never particularly liked the name Caitriona," she admitted abruptly. "My oldest brother spent an entire week after I was born trying to convince my mother to name me something else, but she insisted."

Caitie didn't know why she was telling Grenn this—she rarely ever talked about her mother beyond the basics—but the words were falling out of her mouth. "She loved the name, but everyone else thought it was a mouthful. In fact, my brothers called me Riona because Arthur couldn't pronounce my name when he was little, and the nickname stuck."

"Arthur?"

"The youngest. He's ten now." She hadn't seen him in nearly two years. That was such a long time for a child. Would he even remember her?

Caitie shook the thought away. "So, if you ever refer to me as Caitriona again," she warned, "I will stick a dagger so deep in your throat, you'll have to be buried with it."

She wasn't serious, but the threat sounded good to her ears. Nevertheless, she smiled slightly so he'd know she didn't mean it.

Grenn laughed. "Fine, but only if you forgive me."

"You really didn't mean what you said?"

"Never. You're still you, whatever your name is."

His expression was more open than ever before, and Caitie's anger melted away on the spot. "Well then," she said, "I suppose I do."

There was a long sigh of relief. "Good. I thought you were gonna be mad a lot longer."

"Quick to anger, quick to forgive," she replied. "That's what Owen said about me. My oldest brother," she clarified when Grenn looked confused.

"About that," he said, becoming mildly nervous, "why were you hiding from your father?"

Caitie pursed her lips but answered. "Because he would've made me marry a monster." It was simple, straight to the point, and utterly without detail, because Caitie didn't want to think about the details ever again. She'd already thought about them enough today. "He's only ever cared about one person, and that's himself. I'll always hate him for it."

"Y'know, I hated my parents for a long time," Grenn said. "Wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Caitie frowned. Whether he wished it on her or not was irrelevant. She felt the way she felt.

In the end, she decided to ignore the latter sentence. "What changed?"

"I decided that if they didn't care about me, they'd have just left me in the woods to die. But they didn't. They left me on a farmer's doorstep."

Caitie took his hand before she could lose her courage. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad you lived—even if you are an ass sometimes."

There was a moment after she finished speaking where she wasn't sure what would happen next. Caitie had never been in a situation with quite so much… tension before. If she hadn't yawned, she didn't know what would have happened.

Grenn chuckled. "Go to sleep."

She snorted and crossed her arms. "If it's true that I snore, I'm never sleeping again."

"Nah," he said, "I only told you that 'cause I knew you'd say something back."

"Well, I never could resist an argument."

"You're the most argumentative girl I've ever met."

It was the first time Grenn had ever referred to her as a girl, and despite their circumstances—despite the pain and the hunger and the near-certain death—Caitie smiled.

You have no idea how long it took me to name this chapter. I want to tear my hair out just thinking about it. That's why it took so long for me to upload. Sorry.