With the wind in her hair and snow falling around her, Caitie stood atop the Wall alongside Jon and Sam during their patrol.
While she technically wasn't supposed to be on watch duty that day, she'd finished her kitchen chores early, and as a treat, the first steward, Bowen Marsh, sent her off before evening. Without hesitation, she'd gone up to her second favorite place at Castle Black, where Jon and Sam were on duty.
Neither of her friends seemed in a talkative mood, so Caitie breathed in the fresh air and looked out at the beauty of the Frostfangs. Until this moment, she'd only ever been up to the top of the Wall at night, during her watch duty. She hadn't gotten the chance to truly experience it, to see the beauty of the forests and rivers and mountains dotting the landscape beyond the Wall.
And Caitie loved it. She only wished her brothers could experience it with her, because they would love the top of the Wall as much as she did.
Well, maybe not Arthur. But he could stay and keep Sam company in the library while Owen and Cerys went up with her.
Caitie happily indulged in the fantasy of her brothers visiting Castle Black. If they came two days from now—the day of her vows—it would be Owen's twenty-fourth nameday. She had never cared much about her own nameday, and in recent years, she'd despised it. But when it came to her brothers', there was nothing she loved more. And this year, if they came to the Wall, she would finally get to beat Cerys with the better gift. They could meet her friends and see how much she'd improved with her daggers. She could listen to Arthur ramble about all his studies for hours on end.
So many things she used to take for granted. Now she would give anything to have them back.
Just as Caitie finished the thought, Sam spoke, breaking her out of her reverie. "I miss girls," he said, seemingly out of nowhere. "Not even talking to them. I never talked to them."
She furrowed her brows. "You talk to me, don't you?"
"Oh, but it's not the same with you."
"I feel like I should be offended by that," she laughed.
Sam ignored her. "I just miss looking at them. Hearing them giggle."
Caitie scrunched her face up. Sometimes, she really didn't understand boys.
She looked over at Jon to see what he thought, but he wasn't paying attention to either of them. With an overly serious expression, he dutifully watched the Haunted Forest like the perfect Night's Watch recruit he always was.
Every once in a while, Caitie could get him to break the act and fight a smile with one of her jokes. But by now she knew him well enough to see this wouldn't be happening today.
Unwilling to give up, Sam stepped forward, closer to Jon. "Don't you miss girls?"
When Jon didn't look away from the forest, she followed his gaze to see what had caught his attention and noticed movement.
A horse.
"Riders," Sam said, all talk of girls forgotten. "The horn—we have to blow the horn."
As he ran off, Jon asked, "Why is he alone?"
Only then did he turn to look at Caitie. She realized he was looking to her for answers.
If only she could provide them.
"I don't know."
But she did know, deep down, just as well as he.
Caitie expected him to snap, but Jon accepted her answer, going back to watching the horse trot closer to the tunnel.
Sam didn't hear their conversation, too busy talking, trying to remind himself of the rules. "One blast for a ranger returning, two for Wildlings, three for—"
"There's no rider," Jon interrupted. He didn't wait for a reply before he spun on his heel and ran towards the elevator. Caitie and Sam followed behind him, exchanging nervous glances.
The three of them stepped into the elevator and signaled for the man working it to begin their descent. No one dared to speak as they watched the view change until, finally, the elevator came to a creaking halt.
Jon pushed open the door and flew down the steps to the courtyard, his friends right behind him, where Lord Commander Mormont was watching a steward try to calm the terrified horse.
"That's my Uncle Benjen's horse!" Jon exclaimed.
She had never seen him so frantic as he looked over his shoulder to the lord commander. "Where's my uncle?"
No one could answer Jon's question. But they all knew what this meant: something had gone terribly wrong beyond the Wall.
She just hoped he wouldn't be the one to pay the price.
Two days later, as she sat on a long bench in the courtyard as snow fell all around her, Caitie thought bitterly to herself that Lord Commander Mormont's speech was even longer and more tedious to listen to than the last one.
After months at Castle Black and zero speeches, she had hoped the one from her first day would be the last, but she had been wrong—so very wrong. The lord commander droned on for what felt like hours, and while Caitie respected him well enough, she was quickly warming to the idea of beginning a riot just so the damned thing would end. Every unnecessary word or pause for dramatic effect made her want to strangle him.
That it was now Owen's nameday did not help her lack of patience. With all the commotion surrounding the appearance of Benjen Stark's horse, she'd nearly forgotten until she'd woken up that morning and almost burst into tears on the spot. Caitie hadn't expected missing his nameday to hit her so hard, but Gods—if she hadn't understood already that she was no longer part of her family, this certainly clarified things. She imagined her brothers teasing and laughing and indulging in all the sweets they could ask for—and all without her.
While she had managed not to cry in the end, the idea of that was like a cloud hanging above her all morning.
She tried to focus on the positives of her situation. At least after today, she would be a sworn brother of the Night's Watch. Fully fledged black brothers got their own—albeit small—quarters, unlike recruits, who had to share. It meant no more relying on Ghost to keep watch for her while she changed; no more worrying about anyone seeing her; no more having to drown out all the yelling of her fellow recruits when she was trying to sleep.
Caitie tried to console herself with this knowledge, but nothing could change how she felt: so extraordinarily alone—despite the friends beside her.
On her left sat Grenn. She was certain Sam had sat on Jon's other side to force her into Grenn's proximity, and even though she knew it wasn't malicious, she still couldn't appreciate it. Her situation was already precarious; a stupid crush was the last thing she needed.
To Caitie's right was Jon, looking notably grim, although she couldn't blame him after the other day. Caitie wished she had something comforting to tell him, but Jon's foul mood did little to help her own this morning, and after two days of trying, she couldn't think of anything that would make him feel better.
Sam could, at least. "You're allowed to look happy," he said, leaning close so Jon could hear him over the lord commander's booming voice.
Jon closed his eyes for a moment, trying to contain his annoyance, but Sam pressed on. "You're going to be a ranger. Isn't that what you always wanted?"
"I want to find my uncle," Jon said. "I know he's alive out there. I know he is."
Sam looked at him sympathetically. "I wish I could help you. But I'm no ranger. It's the steward's life for me."
"There's honor in being a steward."
Empty words, and all three of them knew it. Stewards spent their days at Castle Black waiting on the rangers and builders, cooking, cleaning chamber pots, sharpening swords, and grooming horses.
And that's what Owen and Cerys wanted for her. She understood, of course—stewards might not lead glamorous lives, but they led safe ones.
Either way, whatever her brothers wanted, it wasn't likely to happen. Being the best fighters at Castle Black, Caitie and Jon were bound for the rangers.
She wasn't going to complain. At least that way she could help Jon find his uncle.
"Not much, really," Sam said. "But there's food."
The comment managed to get Jon to smile. Sam was good at that, Caitie had realized over the last few months—making people feel better. He always knew the right thing to say.
She turned her attention back to the makeshift dais, listening as the speech continued on and on for what felt like ages. A line of senior brothers stood behind the lord commander, as unmovable as the Wall looming behind them, while all the recruits sat silently in the middle of the courtyard, seemingly enraptured. If anyone else was as bored as her, they were doing a remarkable job of hiding it.
"Here, you begin anew," Mormont was saying. He walked down the steps from the elevator platform as he kept on, despite his having spoken for twenty minutes already. "A man of the Night's Watch... lives his life for the realm. Not for a king, or a lord, or the honor of this house or that house; not for gold nor glory, nor a woman's love; but for the realm! And all the people in it. You've all learned the words of the vow. Think carefully before you say them."
Caitie thought that was a rather insensitive thing to say; most of these men had no choice in the matter. But she supposed she couldn't fault Lord Commander Mormont's flair for the dramatics—as long as the speech was over.
"The penalty for desertion is death," he finished. And finally, he moved on, asking if any of the recruits kept the Old Gods.
Only she and Jon stood.
Perhaps it was a stupid idea to stand up in front of every single brother at Castle Black when she was trying to stay inconspicuous, but Caitie was a Northerner. She could never deny it, no matter what the circumstances were, and her brothers would kill her if she ever tried. If she was going to say an oath, she would do it the Old Way.
"You'll want to take your vows in front of a heart tree, as your uncle did," Mormont said. "You'll find a weirwood a mile north of the Wall. And your Old Gods too, maybe." He was mostly addressing Jon, but Caitie didn't mind. The less attention from the lord commander, the better.
Sam stood. "My lord, may I go as well?" he asked.
"Does House Tarly still keep the Old Gods?"
"No, my lord. I was named in the light of the Seven, as my father was and his father before him."
"Why would you forsake the Gods of your father and your house?" Thorne cut in, evidently unable to mind his own business. Caitie wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave her friend alone, but she swallowed the urge and settled instead on rolling her eyes and scowling.
For his part, Sam held his ground surprisingly well. He managed to be more polite than Caitie ever could have been, at least. "The Night's Watch is my house now. The Seven have never answered my prayers. Perhaps the Old Gods will."
"As you wish, lad," Mormont replied before he looked back down at his scroll. "You've all been assigned an order, according to our needs and your strengths."
Caitie listened intently as he began to read.
Pyp and Sam were to be stewards; Grenn a ranger. They all grinned excitedly, and Jon leaned over Caitie to smack Grenn's arm in congratulations.
The excitement didn't last long as Lord Commander Mormont read off, "Caitie, to the stewards," and the five of them stared at each other in confusion. That... that didn't make any sense, and she couldn't help the feeling of disappointment in her gut. Caitie may not have had the same strong desire as Jon to be a ranger, but she still would have preferred it.
At least Owen and Cerys would be pleased. The thought calmed Caitie until she remembered.
Lord Commander Mormont's voice called out once more, thoroughly distracting her. "Jon, to the stewards."
Jon went very tense. He shot her and Sam a distressed glance before staring back up at Thorne, who was sneering at him. Caitie had never seen the master-at-arms look so positively joyful; she wondered if he'd had something to do with Jon's assignment. If the glare on Jon's face was any indication, he was wondering the same thing.
But there was no more time to contemplate the odd turn of events as Mormont finished speaking. "May all the gods preserve you."
He rolled up his scroll and left them to report to their new superiors. Jon was in such a stupor that Caitie had to shake his shoulder to remind him to move. He followed her to the others and stood stiffly as the Maester—an old, blind man named Aemon—told each of the stewards where to go.
It didn't take very long. Caitie was told to report to One-eyed Joe in the stables, and she decided the assignment could be a lot worse. Few ever went to the stables, and the fewer people she spoke to, the better. Though she'd never been the best rider, she had always liked horses, and with Ghost spending loads of time in the stables, she'd have a companion—a massive, red-eyed, direwolf companion to scare off anyone who would bother her.
Now that was a comforting thought.
Meanwhile, Sam would be assisting Maester Aemon in the library and rookery. Pyp was to report to Bowen Marsh in the kitchens, and Jon had been selected personally by Lord Commander Mormont to be his steward.
He... wasn't pleased with the idea. "Will I serve the Lord Commander's meals and fetch hot water for his bath?"
"Certainly. And keep a fire burning in his chambers, change his sheets and blankets daily, and do everything else the Lord Commander requires of you," Maester Aemon answered, seemingly unaware of the petulant tone.
"Do you take me for a servant?"
"We took you for a man of the Night's Watch. But perhaps we were wrong in that."
Jon's hands curled into fists. "May I go?"
The maester allowed it. Jon pushed past Sam and stalked off. Sam bowed quickly and ran off after him; Caitie and Pyp close behind.
"Jon, wait!" Sam called as they followed Jon into an alcove off the courtyard. "Don't you see what they're doing?"
Jon pulled off his gloves and threw them down onto a crate. "I see Ser Alliser's revenge; that's all. He wanted it, and he got it. Stewards are nothing but maids; I'm a better swordsman and rider than any of you. It's not fair!"
Caitie was so taken aback by his comment that she scoffed and threw him a dirty look.
She knew Jon wasn't wrong—it probably was unfair—but it was the way he said it, as if he thought he somehow deserved more than the rest of them, or as if he was better than they were. She hadn't seen him act so annoyingly superior since her first day at Castle Black, and she, quite emphatically, did not like it.
Of course, it didn't help matters that he'd insulted her swordsmanship, too.
Jon glowered at her, but before they could engage each other in an argument, Pyp interceded. "Fair?" he asked incredulously. "I was singing for a high lord at Acorn Hall when he put his hand on my leg and wanted to see my cock. I pushed him away, and he said he'd have my hands cut off for stealing their silver." He gave Jon a cold look. "So now I'm here—at the end of the world with no one to sing for but old men and little shits like you. I'll never see my family again. I'll never be inside a woman again. So don't tell me about fair."
"I thought you were caught stealing a wheel of cheese for your starving sister," Sam said.
"You think I was gonna tell a bunch of strangers that a high lord tried to grab my cock?"
Caitie tilted her head to the side. "Why not? We wouldn't have judged you for it."
Pyp stared as if he couldn't believe his ears, and Sam shook his head at her. It led Caitie to believe she'd missed something.
"Could you sing me a song, Pyp? I'd like to hear a song," Sam asked, trying to change the subject.
Pyp only grunted and stormed away. Caitie watched him go, making a mental note to apologize later for whatever she'd said to upset him. And then, remembering Jon, she crossed her arms and turned to scowl at him.
"You have something to say, too?" he asked venomously.
Caitie tried to hold her tongue and speak calmly. But she couldn't. She was scared, homesick, angry, and a myriad of other emotions she couldn't put into words. And now Jon was acting as if she had done something wrong.
A spark went off inside of her. Everything about him—his voice, his face, his petulant anger—increased her frustration. She wanted to... she wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Strangle him, maybe.
At least Caitie had the wherewithal to use her words and not her fists.
"Oh, would you just be quiet for once in your fucking life?" she snapped. "So you're upset you don't get to be a ranger. It doesn't mean you have to be an arrogant, entitled prick about it."
Jon's eyes widened a fraction, before rage took over his expression. "Entitled?" He scoffed. "I'm a bastard; I've never been entitled in my whole life!"
"Well, you're certainly acting like it."
Jon laughed derisively, his temper rising to match hers. "And this is coming from you?"
Caitie raised her eyebrows, knowing what he was about to say, but still hoping she was wrong. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Seven Hells!" Jon yelled; but he seemed to remember himself, for he lowered his voice just enough that no one else could hear. "You're a lady. You have had everything handed to you!"
A slap would have been less painful than the words he'd just spoken. Jon knew how sensitive a topic her old life was for her. For him to throw that back in her face infuriated her as much as it hurt.
"Everything handed to me? Have you gone mad?" She ran her fingers through her hair to keep her temper from spiraling further—not that it worked, for she seemed unable to hold back now. "How—how dare you! You have no idea what it's like to be a lady. You can go anywhere, be anyone, and never have to worry about being married off to whichever decrepit, horrible lord wants you, or being treated like a—a vessel, good for nothing but popping out male heirs!"
"And you've got no idea what it's like to be constantly reminded that you're not a part of your own family and that you'll always have a bastard's name!" His face was now inches from her own.
"I'm reminded that I'm not a part of my family every day I'm in this miserable place!" Caitie cried, now in such a fit of anger, she could barely think. "You think you're the only one who's had a shit childhood, who's been mistreated, and I'm sick of it. You want to be a ranger? Well, I want to go home to my brothers without my father forcing me to marry a man worse than a raper. It looks like neither of us is going to get what we want."
Caitie stopped, realizing she'd said too much. As it went, she knew that if she went on, she'd start to sob; she could already feel the tears coming to the surface.
So, with one last incensed look at Jon, Caitie turned and stomped off before either he or Sam could see her cry.