Leaving her quarters was quite possibly the hardest thing Caitie had ever done. The moment she and Grenn emerged, the atmosphere changed back to one of anxiety and death. But Caitie had no choice; there were people to whom she needed to apologize, to grieve, and to say goodbye.

The first she found in the armory. Edd was sharpening his sword, too focused on the task to notice her and Grenn—who had graciously agreed to join her—as they entered the room.

She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. "Hello."

Edd looked up between the two of them, raising one eyebrow.

"I came to apologize."

He still didn't say a word, just waiting.

"Edd, I'm really sorry for pouncing on you."

Caitie swore she saw his mouth twitch upward as he said, "Are you now?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yes. I was a horrible, terrible friend and I don't deserve to be forgiven, but I'd really, truly appreciate it if you did. Forgive me, I mean. Preferably before we all die."

She could hear Grenn trying to stifle a laugh behind her. There was a pause before Edd laughed, too. "All right, all right, you're forgiven. Now, stop blubbering."

"Sorry."

"And stop sayin' sorry."

"Right, yes. Sorry." She winced. "I mean… you know what I mean."

Edd rolled his eyes. Caitie noticed he did that a lot in her presence. She supposed she couldn't blame him for it.

"So… you don't hate me?"

He snorted. "'Course I don't hate you. The three of us—we went through hell together." He nodded down at their wrists—to the scars they shared. "Couldn't hate either of you if I tried."

To think she'd worried over how they looked. The scars were something Caitie would cherish—because they were something she shared with her friends. It would link them for life.

Grenn smiled at him. "Aye, me neither."

"Nor me," she agreed.

"Don't get me wrong, though," Edd continued. "You're one of the most annoying people I've ever met. But I've always had a soft spot for annoying people, meself."

"Er, thanks."

He smiled wryly. "You're welcome. But Caitie, get a handle on your fucking temper."

Grenn couldn't keep his laughter at bay any longer, while Caitie only shuffled from foot to foot. "I'll try harder to do that."

And she meant it. She didn't want to spend her life saying things she could never take back. It led her closer and closer to her father, and she'd die before she ended up just like him.

"Good," Edd said. "Now, you gonna be okay?"

A laugh escaped. "We're all facing our deaths. If I were okay, there would be something supremely wrong with me." She sighed. "What about you? Are you going to be okay?"

"Long as I'm drunk, I'll be fine."

Caitie snorted. "Always thinking of the important things in life."

"Yup."

"Well," she sighed, "I'll leave you to it, then. I need to find Sam and apologize to him, next."

"You're gonna have to do some groveling. He wasn't happy."

She winced—that didn't sound good.

"Come on," Grenn said. "Let's get it over with."

Caitie shook her head. "No," she sighed, "this one I need to do on my own."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," she said. "You two go have fun—and don't get too drunk. At least not without me."

"No promises," Edd said.

Grenn smiled. "I'll see you tonight?"

Despite the weight on her shoulders, Caitie smiled back. "I wouldn't miss our last night getting drunk off our asses for the whole world."


Sam, predictably, sat alone in the deepest part of the library, reading a book so large he most likely couldn't have carried on his own. His leg jittered up and down as he bit his lower lip nervously, reading intently.

"Sam?" Caitie called. She kept her voice soft and apologetic.

He looked up from his book with tears in his eyes. "I can't believe you said that."

She flinched. "I know. I'm so sorry."

"You really think she's dead?"

Caitie hugged her arms to herself. "I don't know."

Sam shook his head, closed his book, and stared up at her with eyes so full of anger that Caitie reflexively took a step back. "Why didn't you take her back with you?"

"I…" she gulped. "I suppose I thought she'd be safer—"

"You knew the Wildlings were raiding the lower villages as well as I did!"

"I just didn't think—"

"You never think!"

"Sam—"

"Because it's always about you!" he ranted, shooting up from his chair. "You never think of anyone but yourself, and now Gilly and Little Sam are dead—because of you!"

This wasn't her friend. This was a stranger speaking. It had to be, didn't it? She'd never seen him raise his voice at anyone in anger.

But she wasn't entirely sure she didn't deserve it, either.

"Go, please," he said. "I want to be alone."

"I'm sorry." It didn't feel like enough, but it was all she had.

Caitie backed away, and soon she was running down the hall, to the elevator, and up to the top of the Wall. She didn't expect anyone to be there, but Jon stood at the main platform where the commander of the battle would oversee it all, looking out at the Frostfangs with a melancholy expression.

The crunching of her boots alerted him to her presence. "Are you all right?" he asked when he saw her face.

Caitie tried her hardest to tell him she was, but the words wouldn't come out. She shook her head and crumpled against him, crying furiously. Apparently, she hadn't run out of tears just yet.

"He's right though," she said when she had finally gotten a handle on herself long enough to relay the conversation. "Why did I have to be so selfish!" It was good there was nothing around for Caitie to break because she was beyond frustrated enough to try.

"You're not selfish." Jon sighed. "Sam's not in his right mind. I'll speak with him tonight."

"Don't. He'll just think I asked you to—more evidence I only think of myself," she said bitterly.

"You know that's not true."

Caitie sniffled and shook her head. "I've never seen him like that before, Jon."

"He's in love. And he's afraid."

"Well, so am I!" She closed her eyes and cursed herself for the blatant admission. "Damn it. I want to be brave. I don't want to be afraid."

Jon looked thoughtful. "There's no shame in fear," he said. "What matters is how we face it. My father told me that, once."

It was something Caitie could picture coming from Ned Stark. She wondered if he'd been afraid when Joffrey took his head.

"And if I don't want to face it?" she asked. "What does that mean?"

He sighed. "I don't think anyone wants to face it. But that doesn't mean you're not brave. The only time a man can be brave is when he's afraid. Father told that one to Robb."

Caitie tensed, ready to hold back the wave of anger at the sound of Robb's name, but it didn't come. Perhaps the prospect of death had softened her. But even after their exchange at Winterfell, even with all his mistakes… war was complicated. Her imminent death was proof of it. What right did Caitie have to judge the King in the North when she wasn't there?

Besides that, Robb was a Stark. He was Jon's brother. And he was the only king in the entire Seven Kingdoms fighting for something worthwhile.

She sighed. "I've been in a constant state of fear for two-and-a-half years," she said. "I never thought it made me brave."

"You're one of the bravest people I've ever met."

Caitie opened her mouth to speak but closed it soon after. Instead, she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his middle, and rested her head against his chest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

When she opened her eyes, she looked to see the sun setting behind the Frostfangs. "How long do we have?"

"I don't know," he said. "A day, maybe? If that."

Caitie stared out beyond the Wall, trying to imagine what Mance Rayder's army would look like when they came to kill her and her friends. Trying to imagine what death would feel like. "I wonder what I'll miss the most when I'm dead," she said.

Jon snorted. "For you, I'd assume it would be ale."

Caitie pulled away. "Probably, although…"

"Although?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, but a smile peeked through. Jon had an odd way of cheering her. "Sex is certainly up there on the list."

He laughed. "I'll miss your crude jokes."

"And I'll miss your brooding charm." When she looked up at the sky, the first stars of the night were visible. "I should probably go before…" Before Sam came to join Jon for watch duty. She didn't need to say it, though—Jon understood.

But first, she had to tell him something. "I want you to know: Ser Alliser might not admit it, but you're the best the Night's Watch has to offer."

"I was just doing my duty," he replied modestly.

Caitie rolled her eyes. It was so like him to ignore a compliment with the excuse of duty. "If you say so," she laughed. She took one last look at her best friend and started her walk to the elevator.

"Caitie," Jon called. She turned back around to see a ghost of a smile on his face. "You, too."

There was nothing that could ever mean more to her. "I'm glad I met you," she said. "Death or not."

Jon smiled properly. "So am I."


As the hours ticked by into the dead of night, Caitie finally fell into a restless sleep in her quarters. Grenn lay curled up behind her with an arm tossed lazily over her side. After drinking with Edd to forget their troubles, the two had spent the last of their time before the battle holed up in her quarters, trying to forget the world outside. They hadn't stopped until they were both spent.

"Hey," he whispered, just as she was falling into a deep sleep, "wake up."

She grumbled something unsavory and batted away his hand on her shoulder.

He laughed softly. "I'll keep my cock attached, thanks. Now, come on, get up. I think I heard someone at your door."

Those words got her attention. "Who?"

She felt him shrug. "Dunno."

Sighing, Caitie sat up and rubbed her eyes. "I'd better go see who it is. You stay here. Just in case."

Grenn nodded. "All right." She sat up, but before she could leave the bed, he caught her chin. "I love you."

She kissed him. "And I love you."

Caitie slipped on her clothes as quickly as she could and opened the door a crack, but she couldn't see a soul in the hallway. She was about to turn back around when she heard faint footsteps and the door to the outside closing.

Furrowing her brows, she walked towards the source of the noise. It led her into the courtyard, where she saw the shadow of someone large and short—Sam. He was still supposed to be on watch duty with Jon, but he was opening the door that would lead him to the library.

Before Caitie could change her mind, she followed, crossing the courtyard to the door through which Sam had gone.

She could hear muffled voices—Sam was speaking to someone. Caitie couldn't decide whether or not to interrupt. But Jon had said this could be their last night, and she wasn't going to die in the midst of a fight with one of her best friends.

In the end, that won out.

Caitie started turning the door handle—but halted when she heard Maester Aemon speak.

"Do you know who I was before I came here? What I could have been if I'd only said the word?" He sighed. "Of course you do. I met many girls as Aemon Targaryen. A future king always does."

Caitie blanched. A future king. She had always assumed Maester Aemon to be a Targaryen—his name made it clear. But Crown Prince Aemon Targaryen—older brother of King Aegon?

"Some of them were quite forward in their attempts to win my affections," Maester Aemon said. "One of them succeeded… I was very young."

"Who was she?" Sam asked.

"Ah, I could tell you everything about her. Who she was, how we met, the color of her eyes, and the shape of her nose. She's more real than you are."

Caitie needed to leave. She shouldn't be eavesdropping on a conversation like this—it was so very wrong. But she stood rooted to the spot.

Maester Aemon continued. "We could spend all night trading tales of lost loves. Nothing makes the past a sweeter place to visit than the prospect of imminent death."

She'd had enough of this. Gathering all her courage, Caitie turned the door handle.

"Go to bed, Tarly," the maester was saying as she entered the room.

Sam looked up at her while Maester Aemon stopped short of blowing out the candle next to him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to…" What? She didn't mean to eavesdrop? She didn't mean to leave Gilly behind? She didn't mean to be the worst person in Westeros—well, maybe not the worst.

"Ah, Caitie, it's quite all right," Maester Aemon said, with a smile on his face that told her he knew she'd been listening. "I was just leaving, as was your friend. I suggest that both of you get some rest. I imagine the battle will begin soon."

"Yes, Maester," Caitie said. She turned to look at Sam, but couldn't gauge his emotions.

With some help from them, Maester Aemon stood from his chair and exited the room, leaving her and Sam alone.

"I…" she began, not knowing the right words to say. She settled on, "I thought you'd be on watch duty with Jon."

"He told me he'd take the rest of it so I could get some sleep."

"Oh." She toyed with a fraying hem at the edge of her sleeve. "Are—are you going to be fighting?"

"Of course I am," Sam said. His voice shook a bit.

She nodded, though she didn't like the idea of Sam in the thick of battle. "I'll be up on the Wall with Jon."

"Keep him safe, if you can."

Caitie nodded again as the awkwardness took over once more. "Sam," she said, "I don't want to die with us like… this."

"Neither do I." He smiled kindly at her. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. It was my fault as much as it was yours. I never should have left her in Mole's Town. I should have listened to her when she said she didn't want to leave. I'm no more angry with you than I am with myself."

"When I saw her…" Caitie said, "She understood. Truly, she did."

Sam sighed. "I know. I just wish you'd have told me of your plans. I would have asked…"

"Sam, I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay."

But it wasn't okay. Nothing would ever make it okay for Sam ever again. Of course, even if Caitie had asked Gilly to come back with her, it wouldn't have mattered. She and Little Sam would die along with Sam and Caitie and all their brethren.

"We should get out of this place," she said. "Have a drink with me? One last time?"

Sam smiled. "I'd love that."

The two of them blew out all the candles in the library and started towards the door to the courtyard—the fastest way to the kitchens.

Small flakes of snow were falling as the two of them exited the hall onto a walkway overlooking the courtyard. Caitie could hear two people arguing over by the southern gate. One was Pyp, who had the peephole in the gate open, and the other…

It couldn't be.

"I'm sorry," Pyp said. "I can't open the gate for anyone. Orders."

"You don't understand!" Gilly's voice replied. "They killed everyone! Everyone but me and my baby."

Caitie's legs turned to jelly. She had to grab onto the railing for support. "Seven Hells."

Sam didn't hear her. He flew down the steps from the walkway into the courtyard as the voice from outside the gate continued.

"They may have seen me. They may have followed me. Please—"

"Sorry, I can't." Pyp genuinely did sound sorry.

"If they find us out here, you don't know—"

Sam rushed over to him. "Pyp! Open the gate!"

"I can't!" he hissed.

Caitie could just make out Gilly's eyes widening with relief. "Sam, is that you?"

"Yes!"

Pyp ignored them. "Thorne gave me strict orders not to open the gate."

"Oh, Pyp, open the fucking gate!"

From the balcony, Caitie burst into incredulous laughter. She had to put her fist in her mouth to stop it from being too loud.

Pyp slammed the peephole shut and did as Sam asked. "I never heard you curse before," he said.

"Yes, well, best get used to it."

The gate swung open and Gilly ran through into Sam's arms. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Little Sam fussed a bit, but he calmed down as soon as Sam soothed him. "Shh, you're all right. Of course you are, my brave little fella."

"It was horrible," said Gilly.

"I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know until I got back."

"Don't let them send me away, Sam."

"Never," he promised.

"I know there's no women allowed—"

"Anyone who tries to throw you out will be having words with me. From now on, wherever you go, I go too."

Caitie watched as the two of them stared at each other for the longest time—like they were the only ones who existed. She wondered briefly if she and Grenn acted that disgustingly in love whenever they looked at each other. Gods, she really hoped not.

"Well!" Caitie called from the balcony, grinning like mad. "Anyone who tries to throw you out will be having more than words with me!"

The two of them blinked, remembering where they were. But Gilly still smiled as Caitie walked down to the gate where they all stood.

"I'm so sorry I didn't offer to take you back with me," she said. "I didn't think—"

"It's okay," said Gilly. "But you should have this back." She handed Little Sam to his namesake and brought out the knife Caitie had given her.

"Gods, I completely forgot I gave you this."

Sam stared at Caitie, at a loss for words. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I just… forgot."

"Take it," Gilly insisted.

Caitie shook her head and closed Gilly's hand around the hilt. "No. You keep it. Consider it a belated nameday present."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely. It's yours."

Gilly pocketed the knife. "Thank you," she said.

Caitie shrugged, smiling. "I think everyone needs at least one sharp, pointy object on their person at all times. Hopefully, you'll never need to use it, but—"

Gilly threw her arms around Caitie before she could finish. "Thank you," she whispered again.

They extricated themselves from each other to find Sam staring between the two of them.

"You gave her a knife," he said.

"I did. It was my fault," she assured him when he looked as though he might apologize. "I should have remembered."

With that settled, Sam turned his attention back towards Gilly. "Are you sure you're all right?"

She nodded.

"I promise, I'll never leave you again."

"Wherever I go, you go too?"

"Yes."

The staring was back. Caitie was almost certain one was going to pull the other onto the ground right in front of her and Pyp.

But then a horn blew once, and the four of them stared at each other, wide-eyed, waiting with anticipation.

The horn blew again. Terror flooded through Caitie's veins.

Two Blasts.

The Wildlings were here.


This was a weird chapter to write. But hey, the battle is next! I'm excited but also nervous because battle sequences are boring/difficult/scary to write, and I want to do it well. The chapter should, hopefully, be ready by Valentine's Day, because what's more romantic than reading about people killing each other?