Soooo, I meant to post this on Sunday (I liked the irony of posting a battle chapter on Valentine's Day. I'm a romantic, what can I say?). And then my power went out. For three days. In a blizzard.

On the bright side, it allowed me to edit even more than usual, and The Watchers on the Wall is my absolute favorite battle episode, so I wanted to do it justice. I hope, with all the extra editing, I succeeded.

The elevator ride to the top of the Wall was an eerily quiet contrast to the commotion Caitie had just left behind.

As soon as the horn had blown, Sam rushed Gilly to the pantry so she could hide in the larder, while Pyp went to his post at the castle walls. Black brothers had swarmed the courtyard, leaving Caitie to ride the elevator alone, hoping she'd meet Grenn, Jon, and Edd somewhere at the top.

The wind burned her cheeks and tousled her hair as the elevator rose closer and closer to the top. She wanted to stay there forever. Suspended in mid-air, with no sound or movement, she felt though nothing could hurt her—as if it were her own little bubble.

But soon enough, the elevator came to a creaking halt, and Caitie forced herself to step onto the walkway. The commotion was even worse up at the top of the Wall than down below.

Everyone was running, barking out commands, rolling barrels of oil and other explosives every which way. Caitie ignored it—ignored the tension building with every frantic order. She rushed along, searching for her friends.

The first one she came across was Jon, standing on the central platform, looking out at the Haunted Forest, where a massive fire burned over a large swath of trees.

The signal for the attack.

She could smell the smoke rising from it, mingling with the frigid air and burning her nostrils. Caitie dug her nails into her palms. She was going to be sick.

When Jon turned to look at her, Caitie's stomach plummeted further. She'd never seen him so distraught—so terrified—in all the time she'd known him.

"Light them up!" someone ordered. "Light them all up!"

Jon came back to his senses. "We've got to get those barrels loaded," he said.

The barrels of oil were too heavy to carry, so everyone had to roll them along the walkways to their carts, with the exception of Janos Slynt. He seemed content to stand around, barking at them to pick up the pace, without contributing anything of value.

Caitie didn't have time to get herself in a fit over it. The world was moving at twice its normal speed. When they'd readied the last barrel, Jon went to inform Ser Alliser, and Caitie found Grenn and Edd, standing at a platform to Jon and Ser Alliser's left.

"I've been looking all over for you," said Grenn the moment he saw her, sighing with relief. He held a large barrel in one arm.

"Sorry," she said. "I was with Sam. Gilly and the baby showed up at the southern gate just before the horn blew."

Edd smiled wryly. "I said she'd survive, didn't I?"

"Yes," Caitie replied. "I admit it: I was wrong; you were right."

He sighed and looked back out to the blazing forest. "Wish I could live to relish it. Seven Hells, we're fucked."

As the situation came back to the forefront of their minds, Grenn took Caitie's hand and squeezed it tightly.

Tiny dots of light were visible from the strip of land between the Wall and the Haunted Forest. There were thousands—Caitie couldn't see where they began or ended. Shouts of excitement accompanied them.

A hundred thousand Wildlings. It couldn't get any worse.

Or so Caitie thought—until she saw the giants.

That she could make them out so well was from three-hundred feet above them was a testament to their size. She was probably smaller than their pinky fingers. She could see two of them, the larger of which rode a mammoth.

Gods, they really were going to die, and in the most miserable way possible.

If the look on Grenn and Edd's faces were any indication, they thought the same.

"Archers, nock! Everyone else, hold!" Thorne ordered, with Jon still at his side. Caitie tore her eyes away from the giants to look at them.

As soon as he finished the order, Grenn lost his grip on the barrel he was holding.

"Grenn, no!" Edd shouted.

He and Caitie both lunged for it, but it was too late. The barrel fell, tumbling down the side of the Wall and out of sight. The three of them stared up at Thorne, waiting for his reaction. Caitie gripped Grenn's hand so tightly she thought she might break it.

"I said nock and hold, you cunts!" Ser Alliser screeched. "Does nock mean draw?"

"No, ser!" they all chanted.

"Does fucking hold mean fucking drop!"

"No, ser!"

"Do you all plan to die here tonight?"

"No, Ser!"

"That's very good to hear! Draw!" But before he could order them to loose, the horn blew again—twice.

When everyone turned their heads to look at the horn-blower, he shook his head. "No, down below!"

Caitie used the confusion to ask quietly, "Are you all right?"

Grenn nodded stiffly. "I'm fine."

She didn't think he was, but before she could press him on it, Janos Slynt appeared at Thorne's side in a complete panic. "They're attacking the southern gate!"

"Now?" Thorne asked.

"Now!"

Bile rose in Caitie's throat at the news. Sam and Pyp were down there, fighting. If the Wildlings were attacking the castle—which, despite its name, was not a castle and did not have the defensive capabilities of one—then her friends could end up overrun.

Caitie wanted to help them. Twenty men weren't enough to hold the line. And most of the men down there were stewards—non-fighters—like Sam and Pyp. They didn't stand a chance on their own. But Ser Alliser would never allow it.

No one spoke as the acting commander debated his course of action. "I'm going down there," he said. "Brother Slynt, you have the Wall." He went to march to the elevator, leaving a panicked Janos Slynt in charge of their defense.

And Caitie had thought they were all dead before.

Whatever she thought of Ser Alliser personally, he was at least competent. In contrast to him, Janos Slynt was a weaselly little coward. He'd only risen to Thorne's second because he was a sycophant.

True to form, Slynt stared at Jon with wide, fear-filled eyes, saying nothing.

Realizing the inaction of his second-in-command, Thorne turned back around. "What are you fucking waiting for?" he shouted. "Loose!"

And with that, he left for the elevator, at least twenty men behind him.

Slynt seemed to remember what was happening. "You heard the man! Loose!"

Fire-lit arrows flew across the night sky. A few of them hit their marks, but all the Wildlings had to do was step back a few feet, and they were out of range.

Caitie prayed as she had never prayed in her life that Sam and Pyp were still okay—to whom, she didn't know.

Grenn took a sharp, horrified breath beside her. Caitie followed his gaze back down to the army below them, to the mammoth-riding giant.

He and his brother marched along with the rest of the army to the outer gate.

They were going to attack it, Caitie realized. The giants were almost as tall as the gate itself, and as she watched them lumber towards it, she knew that Jon had been right: nothing could top them—not even cold-rolled steel.

Janos Slynt, however, had a different opinion. "No discipline; no training," he said weakly. "Gang of thieves, that's all this is. I commanded the City Watch of King's Landing. Those men obeyed orders."

Edd and Grenn exchanged confused glances, while Caitie just scoffed.

What the hell was he talking about?

"We can't just let them attack the gate! "Jon exclaimed.

Slynt's voice remained shrill and weak as he argued back. "The bars on those gates are four inches of cold-rolled steel."

"Those are giants riding mammoths down there! You think your cold-rolled steel is gonna stop them?"

Slynt shook his head. "No such thing as giants. A story for the children."

He was mad, Caitie decided—absolutely mad.

She had just formulated a plan to knock Slynt out before he got them killed when Grenn muttered, "Let me handle him."

He didn't wait for Caitie's reply before he moved past her and Edd over to Jon and Slynt's platform.

"Fucking idiot," Edd said, watching the latter with cold fury.

"Brother Slynt!" He and Jon turned to look at Grenn. "We just got word that Ser Alliser needs you below."

Slynt stared blankly at him, like a simpleton—which, Caitie thought, described the man perfectly.

"You're the most experienced man he's got, Ser, and he needs you."

"Needed below," Slynt repeated, sounding dazed. "Yes, yes."

He rushed off to the elevator, though the idea that anyone needed him below was laughable. She doubted Slynt would be any help at all. With luck, he'd die.

Jon and Grenn gave each other small nods before Grenn grinned and left to rejoin Caitie and Edd.

A weight lifted off her chest as everyone on the Wall looked to Jon for orders.

He took a deep breath. "Archers! Nock your arrows!"

"Nock arrows!" the archers repeated.

"That was brilliant," Caitie said when Grenn reappeared beside her.

"Aye," Edd agreed. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"Well, I did. You've always been smarter than you appeared."

Despite the battle raging, the three of them beamed at each other.

"Draw!" Jon ordered, resuming their attention to the immediate threat. He raised his arm, paused, and brought it back down, yelling, "Loose!"

Arrows flew, but Caitie didn't see whether they found targets. Her attention was on a band of Wildlings, who broke away from the bulk of the horde. They ran as fast as they could towards the base of the Wall. As soon as they reached it, they began to climb.

"They won't summit before dawn," Jon said.

"How do you know that?" asked Grenn, not taking his eyes off the Wildlings.

"Because I've made that climb."

"I think they're in a bigger hurry than you were!" Edd shouted.

Jon ignored him. "Nock!" A pause. "Draw!" Another pause. "Loose!"

Caitie watched more arrows sail through the air until, out of the corner of her eye, she saw one giant dismount his mammoth. He knelt with a bow in his arms, at least as tall as Grenn, and pulled it back to release a human-sized bow. The arrow destroyed the roof of one of the platforms, but it didn't find any human marks.

"Down!" Jon screeched as the giant pulled his arm back again.

Grenn dragged Caitie to the ground with him, but not before she witnessed a second, impossibly large arrow find a brother much too close to Jon for Caitie's liking. Her heart lept as she watched the brother fly backward—breaking the roof of Jon's platform—and out of sight.

"Are you okay?" Grenn whispered in her ear.

Caitie was shaking, but she didn't think she'd been hurt. "Yes."

He breathed a sigh of relief and stood. "Come on. I think the giant's moved."

"Gods, I hope Sam and Pyp are okay," she said.

"Me too."

"Now!" Jon yelled. Caitie shifted her focus back to the battle.

"Now!" Edd repeated.

The barrels of oil were about to make themselves useful. It took four brothers heaving to tip the cart over, but the barrels caught at least twenty Wildlings in their path as they exploded.

Caitie thought it was a small victory until she saw the giants and mammoth remained unscathed.

She could hear the thud all the way from the top of the Wall as the bigger giant dismounted. Guided by both him, his brother, and other Wildlings, the mammoth turned, so his backside was facing the Wall.

Caitie and her friends watched with horror as the bigger giant attacked the outer gate—cold-rolled steel and all—with his bare hands. She could see him punching and pulling at the metal with no signs of slowing down.

Worse, though, was the sound of the metal breaking.

Caitie hadn't realized she was shaking until Grenn pulled her to his side. But even he couldn't comfort her as the other giant attached ropes from the mammoth to the gate and whistled for the mammoth to pull. He and the bigger giant joined in—all three of them, decimating the outer gate.

"I can't look," she said, furious and terrified all at the same time. It was over, and there was nothing they could do about it.

"I know." He laid his chin on the top of her head and growled, "Damn it, we've got to get down there and do something."

"Grenn," Jon called.

Both he and Caitie looked up. She hadn't realized Jon was there.

He jerked his head to an alcove nearby. Grenn gave Caitie a reassuring smile and obeyed.

Caitie was anything but reassured. She slunk along behind them, though not close enough that either could see her.

"The outer gate won't hold," Jon said in a hushed tone. "Take five men and hold the inner gate."

"Aye." Grenn was already half-turned around, but Jon caught his arm.

"Hold the gate," he repeated, low and solemn. "If they make it through…"

Grenn swallowed. "They won't."

He sounded so sure, so resolute. Caitie knew what it meant: he would hold the gate, no matter the cost. Even if the cost was his life.

It was why Jon had chosen him, after all. Grenn was brave and loyal and good with a sword—who else could Jon ask? Ser Alliser had taken at least half of the melee fighters. Besides that, who else could be trusted to hold the gate no matter what? One of Ser Alliser's supporters? Not a chance in all the Seven Hells.

But it didn't matter, and it certainly wasn't a consolation.

The only thing which kept her standing was the fact that if Grenn was taking five men, she needed to be one of them. They'd probably both die, but they were most likely going to die no matter what. At least this way, they'd do it together.

Grenn looked over Jon's shoulder to where Caitie emerged from her hiding spot. One glance was all it took: he knew that she knew. The battle seemed to pause as they stared at each other.

Caitie put a hand on Cerys's hilt. Grenn's eyes lowered to it and then back up to hers.

But then, instead of nodding, he turned around, grabbed an axe off a nearby wall, and hollered, "Come on, Hill! And you, Cooper!" He walked away, his back turned to Caitie, and pointed up to a level above him. "You three, on me!"

She bit back a scoff, running after his party, determined not to be left behind.

He had to take her with him. He had to.

"Come on, you lazy bastards!" he shouted, still walking away from her.

She refused to turn back, even when everyone else filed into the elevator. At the strange expression on the other's faces, Grenn spun on his heel to face her.

His eyes widened as he realized she was still there. And then they softened—full of love, and regret, and fear. He was begging her not to follow him.

Caitie stopped in her tracks as she came to grips with the reality of the situation: he was going, and she was not.

She wanted to tell him she loved him, but she couldn't. That was the worst part. The only thing Caitie could do was send him one last look and hope he knew.

When she took her place on the platform, with only Edd beside her, Caitie felt hollow. There was supposed to be another person with them, and now there wasn't, and everything felt wrong.

Part of her wanted to be angry—at Grenn for refusing to take her with him, at Jon for sending him in the first place.

Anger was the easier emotion. But it was also the wrong emotion. This was what war did: it forced good people to make terrible choices because the alternative was worse.

She wasn't angry; she was just… sad.

"Hey," Edd said. She could tell he was trying to be gentle. It only made everything worse. "You okay?"

Caitie couldn't give him more than a nod. She didn't trust herself to do anything else.

Was Grenn in the tunnel yet? No, he couldn't be. The elevator ride was too long. He'd have just made it to the courtyard.

"I know," Edd continued. "I didn't like it, either."

Caitie tried to smile at him, but she failed, giving him a grimace instead. As much as she appreciated Edd's comfort, she couldn't tell him the truth of it all. It was easier not to speak about it.

Caitie caught a bit of a break when Jon came over to them. "Do we have news from below?"

"Nothing," Edd replied grimly.

But Jon wasn't paying attention. He fixed his gaze on Caitie. "Caitie, I—"

"Let's just… focus on the battle."

Caitie didn't know a man could look so guilty. It didn't help her feel better.

The explosion made for a good distraction.

Some idiot must have mishandled a barrel. Caitie, Jon, and Edd had to duck to avoid the shrapnel.

Once everyone was upright again, Jon looked around. "Is everyone all right?"

Caitie and Edd both nodded.

Grenn had to be close to the tunnel by now. With her heart in her throat, Caitie leaned her head to look over the Wall. But before she could get a good view of the outer gate, someone ran up to them, breathing hard.

"Sam!" she cried, barely withstanding the desire to attack him in a hug.

"What are you doing up here?" Jon asked.

"The Wildlings are over the Walls!" Sam replied, wide-eyed. "Ser Alliser's fallen—the castle won't hold for much longer!"

Jon stood stiffly, thinking, weighing his options, while Caitie put her hand on Owen's hilt.

She didn't care what Jon decided. Grenn may have left her behind, but she was going down there to fight, to protect her friends if it was the last thing she ever did.

"Edd," Jon said, "you have the Wall."

Edd blanched, but he didn't have time to get used to the idea because Jon was in his face, barking orders. "If they try the mammoths again, drop fire on them. If the climbers get too high, drop the scythe on him."

He didn't wait for any kind of response before he tore off with Sam close behind.

"Don't die," Caitie said. "And good luck."

Caitie saw Jon raise Longclaw in front of her as she ran to catch up. "Come, brothers. Now, fight with me!"

Caitie fell into pace with him and Sam. They were first into the elevator. As the three of them waited for everyone else, Caitie asked, "is Pyp…?"

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. "I was with him when he..."

No one said anything. As the elevator descended, all Caitie could think was that Grenn and Pyp had been good friends since their recruit days. And so, if she and Grenn both miraculously made it through the night, she would have to tell him.

She wondered if the giant had broken through the outer gate yet. If Grenn was battling him. If he was—

"I don't want you out there." Jon's voice broke through her thoughts. For one horrible moment, she thought he might have been talking to her. If Jon were set on babying her, too, she'd stab him instead of the Wildlings. But no, it was Sam to whom he spoke. And she fully agreed with the statement.

"You can't protect me forever," Sam said. "There won't be anywhere to hide if the castle falls."

Jon took a key from the inside of his cloak and held it out for Sam to take. "I need him more than I need you."

Sam paused, his hand hovering just above the key as he gulped. But then he nodded meekly and accepted it.

The elevator slowed. Jon didn't wait for it to stop, though. He opened the door and jumped out, Longclaw in hand, hitting the elevator platform in a tuck-and-roll. Caitie followed his example, ending up right behind him as a Wildling attacked. Jon slashed him across the middle.

She only had half a moment to look around, but it didn't take long to see that the courtyard was a bloodbath. There wasn't an inch of ground not covered in blood or guts or bodies.

A battle cry pierced the air as two Wildlings rushed at them from either side. Caitie left Jon to deal with the one closest to him while she faced the other. He attacked lazily, believing her to be an easy target. She dislodged his head with a flourish, ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as the light left his eyes, and she kicked the remainder of his body out of the way.

The Wildlings would not show Caitie mercy, nor would they show Jon, Sam, Grenn, or Edd. Just like they hadn't shown Pyp.

And so neither could she.

While Jon cut through the Wildlings on his way down the steps, Caitie ignored them altogether. She opted instead to jump off the platform and into the fray.

A bloodbath wasn't a strong enough word, she decided. They had gotten everywhere—the balconies, the dining hall, the library, the kitchens, even the roof.

It angered her in a way she did not expect. But this was Caitie's home. And the Wildlings were destroying it.

An archer sat poised for attack on the walkway to the kitchens. Caitie made a mental note to stay out of their line of sight as she flew around the battlefield, killing as many as she possibly could.

She wiped the blood and sweat from her brow after removing her daggers from a Wildling's stomach and took in her surroundings. Jon was battling two Thenns at once, though neither were the Magnar—the leader. Jon couldn't seem to get a strike in—he was too busy defending himself from their attacks.

She would have to fix that.

Caitie snuck around behind the Thenns. When Jon realized, he used Longclaw to taunt his opponents, allowing her to backstab the first straight through his heart. It left the second so surprised that his guard went down, allowing Jon to stick to Longclaw in his stomach.

The two of them worked as a deadly team. Jon drew the enemies to him, and Caitie snuck around to deliver the kill—cold, silent, and efficient. She didn't know how many lives they ended together—she lost count at ten.

Soon enough, Caitie saw Sam in her peripheral vision, running towards the kennel. A fire-lit arrow sailed over his head and embedded itself into the wood above the kennel door.

A Wildling on the other side of the courtyard noticed him, but Caitie was too quick. She ran over and cut the man in half from behind before he got close as Sam fumbled with the key as he inserted it in the lock. When the door swung open, Caitie saw red eyes through the darkness. The great and terrible Ghost had come to save them.

She tore her gaze away over to the main door. A ginger with a full beard was ascending the stairs to it. Though he had an arrow in his shoulder, he still managed to cut down every man standing in his way.

Seeing this, Caitie left Jon to finish off the last, less imposing, Wildling, and followed the ginger. She had just made it to the bottom step when a Wildling woman intercepted her. Tall, willowy, dark-haired, and much faster with her greatsword than she had any right to be.

Neither made a noise as they fought. Caitie dodged a fatal blow from the sword, just barely. It cut into her side, though it was shallow. Caitie didn't feel the pain—the battle focus had taken over again.

Out of the corner of her eye, Caitie saw Jon, engaged in close combat with a large Thenn carrying an even larger battle-axe. It had to be the Magnar.

To Caitie's great frustration, she couldn't help him because the woman lunged, swinging her greatsword wildly as Caitie danced out of reach, desperately trying not to be caught by it.

But Jon had distracted her. The Wildling kicked out, and before Caitie knew what was happening, she had fallen, lying sprawled on her back. Her spine was broken—it had to be. It hurt too much to be otherwise.

The Wildling woman swung her greatsword in an arc. Pure instinct took over as Caitie rolled out of the way. Two seconds' delay, and she would have been skewered.

Fast, so fast it didn't feel possible, she cut the Wildling woman's leg clean off, and when she collapsed, Caitie dragged Cerys across her throat.

It was over. She was still alive. And her spine was not broken—just bruised.

Caitie looked around for Jon. When she found him amidst the carnage, he was still battling the Thenn Magnar—and losing. He'd lost Longclaw. All he had was a chain.

She had to help him, but before she could, the Magnar grabbed him by the hair. He punched him in the stomach multiple times and bashed Jon's head into an anvil beside him.

Caitie screamed Jon's name as the Magnar tossed him through the forging fire and out of sight. The Magnar was too focused on Jon to care about Caitie's cry, but the archer from the walkway—now watching the fight unfold from the ground-level—made eye contact with her. She realized who it was: Ygritte.

Caitie hadn't known what to expect—red hair, green eyes, and an angular face—but she should have guessed fury. And Gods did Ygritte look furious.

But then Ygritte's gaze moved to something behind Caitie, and seeing the chance, Caitie moved on, deciding she'd rather not get shot at by the woman Jon had described one evening as "scarily precise."

Caitie started towards the opposite side of the forge to follow Jon and the Magnar, but another Thenn advanced on her before she could. When he saw her, his eyes gleamed like a predator—just as terrifying as Ghost.

But larger men than he had fallen to her blades, and this would be no different. She twirled and ducked and deflected until he fell for her feint, leaving his middle unguarded. She kicked in, getting him off his feet, and brought her dagger down hard, pressing into the Thenn's head. Caitie felt it go through his skull. He keeled over, face forward.

She searched frantically for Jon. The battle was thinning, but there were still too many Wildlings for her liking. She ran around the forging fire to the other side and found what she was looking for—in a sense.

Jon was sitting on the ground… holding a lifeless Ygritte in his arms. Someone had shot her in the heart with an arrow.

Caitie waited for Jon to get up and take in his surroundings, but he didn't. He pressed his forehead to Ygritte's and closed his eyes, all while the battle raged on around him. Not even when a Wildling—one of the last left—almost as large as the Thenn Magnar saw him and advanced did Jon move.

Caitie's legs propelled her forward. She launched herself over Jon and plunged her dagger into the Wildling's stomach.

He gasped, falling, but with one last breath, before she could react, his sword connected with the right side of her ribs, slicing downward. He was too weak to use his full force, but still, she flew backward, landing on the ground with a sick thud.

Battle-focus couldn't stop the pain—nothing in all the hells could stop it. Every inch of her body was on fire. She was pretty sure her ankle had twisted at the wrong angle, too. Or maybe it had already been that way, and she just hadn't felt it until now. Caitie didn't know.

Every time she tried to take even the shallowest of breaths, her ribs hurt so badly she thought she might die.

Her vision was blurring as a mass came to hover over her. A wet tongue licked her nose—Ghost. She could just make out the direwolf's red eyes hovering over her. Another, even larger mass followed him.

"Sam!" the big blurry mass called. It was Jon. "Get her out of here," he said, this time more quietly.

Gods, no, she couldn't leave, yet. Not until she knew if Grenn was alive.

"No, I'm—" Caitie didn't finish. Talking was even worse than breathing. She didn't think she could keep her eyes open any longer. She was just so exhausted—even her eyelids hurt.

Was she dying?

"You're not," Jon said. Caitie couldn't tell if he was answering what she'd spoken aloud or if he'd read her mind. If she weren't in so much pain, she would have giggled at his mind-reading abilities.

Someone warm and comforting picked her up as if she weighed nothing. She thought it was Sam, but it could have been Alliser Thorne at this point, for all she cared.

Caitie wondered if she'd get to see Owen and Cerys again once she died.

It was the last thought she had before she drifted off into oblivion.