After my last chapter, I got quite a few PMs (and a handful of comments) expressing how much people like this story. So I just want to say to all of you—commenters, followers, PMers, and lurkers—thank you. You have no idea how grateful I am for you, and I hope you continue to like it :)
The trek home was a nightmare.
The Night's Watch had no horses, no food beyond what they could hunt, and more than fifty so wounded, they slowed the party down to half its average pace. They only walked for half the day, taking three or four breaks in between, before they made camp for the night. At this rate, it would be months before they managed to make it back to Craster's Keep—let alone Castle Black.
If not for the events of the last few days, and the thought of seeing Gilly again, Caitie might have had the energy to care about returning to Craster's. After all, she had no desire to see those haunted faces, knowing she could do nothing to stop the person hurting them. But at this point, she just wanted to sleep under a roof for the first time in half a year.
She didn't want to keep looking over her shoulder, feeling as if she was being constantly watched by some inimical, all-seeing... other.
No matter the task—sleeping, walking, hunting—it seemed all she could think about was the battle at the Fist of the First Men, and the White Walker. Even though she'd only laid eyes on it at a distance for perhaps a second, it still haunted her. Whenever Caitie closed her eyes, she relived the battle; relived seeing those children with their wide, unseeing eyes and their crumbling skin. They were less than animals—they were nothing—and she'd almost become just like them.
She would relive that battle for as long as she breathed, and yet that wasn't the thing that scared her the most. What scared her was this: when winter came—which, judging by the weather, seemed to be soon—they would come with their army of dead men, and they would kill every man, woman, and child in Westeros; maybe even beyond.
The Stark words were particularly fitting for the situation. Winter is Coming. And when it came, the dead would come with it. Caitie wondered if the words were an omen for this threat, and if Westeros had just forgotten it, Starks included. She wished Jon were with her so she could ask him.
But thinking about Jon was exhausting, so Caitie tried to switch to something else. Her brothers came to mind, although that wasn't much better.
Would Owen and Cerys believe her if she told them all of this? Probably not. She loved her older brothers, but they had never been the most imaginative people in the world. They'd be more likely to think posing as a boy had addled her mind.
Arthur might believe her, though. If Caitie had to pick which sibling of hers was the smartest, it would be him. Once, when he was five, she'd asked him if he believed the stories about the blue-eyed giant Macumber, and how the whole world lived inside its eye. Arthur had replied that if no one could disprove it, then it shouldn't be discounted.
Caitie could have stewed on these thoughts for hours as the ranging party marched through the snowy, mountainous terrain, but Rast started speaking behind her, and any time Rast spoke, she knew something bad was about to happen.
Why he and Karl Tanner got to survive while Jon was dead, she would never understand. The Gods' plan, Owen would have told her. But if this were the Gods' plan, then Caitie wanted to throw some hot soup in their faces.
"What's the matter, Piggy?" Rast taunted. "You crying 'cause you're cold?"
"Rast, shut up," Caitie told him.
He ignored her warning. "There's two hundred brothers killed by dead men, and you're still here, whimpering."
Sam said nothing, only staring at the ground as he kept walking, trying to hide the fact that he was in tears.
"That seem fair to you?" Rast continued. "I seen 'em torn to pieces fighting while you was off somewhere, hiding in a hole."
"Seven Hells, if you don't stop right now—"
"Be quiet, you little shit," he snapped. "I had it with you protectin' him." Rast didn't allow her time to formulate a response before he went back to taunting Sam. "An' you—why don't you lie down for a while, eh? You know you want to."
Having finally had his fill, he picked up his pace and moved in front of them, smirking like the evil little shit he was.
Caitie would have bashed his head in with her daggers then and there, consequences be damned, but Sam fell to his knees, and he was more important than teaching Rast a lesson.
"Sam," she murmured, kneeling next to him, "Please get up."
He did not. He sat there, tears pouring out of his eyes, and Caitie's heart broke.
"Please don't leave me," he rasped.
"I won't, I promise."
She was going to kill Rast. And she was going to make it last a damn long time when she did.
Noticing the commotion caused by Sam's fall, Grenn stopped his march. "Hey," he called after Edd, who still marched along, not having noticed. When Grenn had gotten his attention, he nodded towards Sam and Caitie, and started over towards them, with Edd on his heels. They both threw her wary looks as they approached.
Grenn and Edd had been giving her a wide berth since the battle. Whenever they were in the same vicinity, Grenn would glance at her as if she might suddenly burst into flames, and then get away as fast as possible. She didn't think he was angry, exactly. More... unnerved. Meanwhile, Edd would only sigh, roll his eyes, and leave her be. He didn't seem upset, at least; just annoyed and exasperated.
Caitie couldn't blame them for avoiding her after the threat she'd made, but what did they expect? For her to pat them on the back? They had left her best friend—a man she considered her brother in the way Owen, Cerys, and Arthur were—behind to be turned into a wight.
Caitie couldn't forgive that easily. Who could?
"Get up, Sam," Grenn said, towering over him.
Sam shook his head and sniffled. "No."
"Get up," he insisted.
"I can't."
"If you stop, you'll die."
"'Course, if you don't stop, you'll probably die, too," said Edd, coming up behind Grenn and Caitie.
Her jaw dropped. What was Edd thinking?
"You don't care," Sam told them through tears.
"'Course we care." Grenn's eyes flickered towards Caitie's. But when she met his gaze, he looked away.
Despite her best efforts, her heart still sank, though she knew she had no right to be upset.
"You left me," Sam cried. "When the White Walkers came, you left me."
Caitie wanted to cry too, hearing the brokenness in Sam's voice. But this wasn't the time nor the place, so she held the tears at bay, and instead opted to pat his back.
"Aye, we left you," Edd admitted. "You're fat, and you're slow, and we didn't want to die."
Caitie shot him a withering glare, not caring that it would only deepen the chasm between her, Grenn, and Edd. But when she looked over, she saw Grenn doing the same thing. Their eyes met. This time, his gaze didn't flit away, and a look of understanding passed between the two of them. However they felt about each other, they would protect Sam.
Edd was a different story. He shrugged at their frustrated expressions, as if he didn't see anything wrong with his statement.
Caitie scoffed. "What is wrong with you?"
"It's the truth," he replied simply.
"Can't you be the least bit sensitive?"
He snorted. "This, coming from you?"
That shut Caitie right up.
Before Edd could lord it over her, Grenn interrupted their little tiff. "Help me get him up."
Caitie shot Edd a nasty look, but otherwise, she let it go. Getting Sam up was more important to her than fighting with Edd.
Together, the three of them tried to heave Sam up. He wouldn't budge.
Noticing their struggle, Rast sauntered back over to them, not content to leave well enough alone. "Looks like that piggy is done for."
"Help us get him up," Grenn ordered, with a glare Rast's way.
"He's slowing us down."
"Just get him up!"
"Why? So the rest of us can die? We'll move faster without him."
Caitie had had enough of Rast's bullying and cruelty. She stood, and in two short strides, closed the distance between them. It was difficult—the top of her head barely came to his eye level—but she managed to look him dead in the eye. "If you don't shut your fucking mouth right now," she warned in a low, furious voice as she pointed a dagger at his stomach and dragged it upwards so it was level with his eye, "I swear to all the gods, I will slit you from navel to nose."
Rast's eyes widened with fear, and for a moment, Caitie felt a smug satisfaction at how much she'd scared him.
Then she realized he wasn't looking at her.
Ghost stood beside Caitie, growling deep and loud. His red eyes glinted like a demon as they focused on Rast, whose face had gone ashen and slack. Caitie had been so focused on him that she hadn't noticed the direwolf come back from his midday hunt.
For a moment, everyone went still, watching, waiting.
But before the situation could escalate any further, the lord commander pushed his way through the line to them. "What is this?" he bellowed as he took in the scene—Rast, visibly shaking; Ghost growling, ready to attack; Sam, Edd, and Grenn watching it all unfold.
Then he noticed her. "Call off the wolf, Caitie."
Her eyes went from Rast to the lord commander's instantly, and she looked at him with her brows knitted in confusion. Caitie didn't have any control over Ghost—he answered to Jon and Jon alone.
But Ghost had growled at Rast because of her anger towards him. And now he was standing at her side, as if waiting for the order to attack.
"Ghost," she said, thinking to herself how unlikely this was to work. "Stop."
To her utter disbelief, he listened, abandoning Rast and looking over at her, awaiting another command.
"Go to the front of the line, and wait for me there," Mormont ordered her.
Caitie shook her head, remembering why Ghost had even threatened Rast in the first place. She couldn't leave now. "But Sam—"
"Go."
"But—"
"That was an order, not a suggestion," he snapped.
Caitie bristled, unwilling to listen, but then she heard Ghost growling again—this time at the lord commander. Caitie could imagine how badly this would end for everyone involved if she didn't back down.
"Come on, Ghost." Caitie only just concealed a glare at Mormont as she left. The direwolf followed her lead, turning away from the others and padding after her. Caitie shot Sam one last nervous look before she headed off, and the last thing she heard was Mormont ordering him to stand.
"I'm sorry, boy," she said once they were at the front of the line. Speaking to the direwolf as if he were human was a habit Caitie had picked up over the last few days. In defense of her sanity, she was sure Ghost understood. "I didn't mean to order you around."
Ghost only whined, and somehow she knew what he was trying to say.
Caitie smiled. "I know. I would've liked to kill Rast, too."
He leaned against her, pushing his head into her palm so she could scratch his ear.
Had Jon ordered Ghost to follow her commands, she wondered—or had Ghost begun to follow her due to his master's death?
"Is Jon alive?" Caitie found herself asking.
Ghost answered by barking and licking her hand. She wished, not for the first time, that he could speak Common.
Most of all, she wished it meant yes.
Sam sought her out later that night, during what passed for supper north of the Wall.
He came over as Caitie sat with her back against a tree, sharpening one of her daggers in front of her makeshift fire, while Ghost nibbled on a rabbit bone beside her. This had become their evening routine since the battle. She and Ghost would hunt together when the ranging party made camp for the night, though there wasn't much to hunt. Once they'd found food for both them and Sam, they would sit side by side by Caitie's small fire until it was time to sleep. As the night grew colder, Ghost usually allowed her to cuddle up to him, sharing the warmth of his fur.
"Hello," Sam said hesitantly as he sat down next to her.
Caitie took in his appearance. The color had come back to his cheeks a little, and the intelligent spark in his eyes had returned, though he still was wound up tighter than a spring.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm better now." He swallowed. "The lord commander forbade me from dying."
"Forbade you?"
Sam nodded. "He told Rast if I didn't survive, neither would he."
Caitie's mind whirled as Sam told her what had occurred after she'd left. Her opinion of Lord Commander Mormont got all the more confusing. She hated some of his choices—what he allowed at Craster's, for example. But Mormont wasn't all bad, either. He hadn't punished her earlier when she tried to defy his order—all he had done was give her a pointed look and told her not to do it again—when a different lord commander might have had her killed. He'd always been lenient towards Jon when Thorne tried to torment him.
And now, apparently, he'd stood up for Sam.
She didn't know what to think of all of it, but Caitie couldn't bring herself to hate the man.
"Thank you," Sam said, interrupting her thoughts.
She tilted her head, waiting for him to elaborate.
"For being there for me," he clarified.
To that, Caitie squeezed his arm and smiled. "You're my brother. Of course I'm going to be there for you."
He returned the gesture and nodded towards Ghost. "He answered to you today."
"I know. He used to respond to some of my commands if I had food with me, or if Jon ordered him to listen. But this is... new. What do you think it means?"
Sam thought about the question for a long moment. "I don't know." He glanced at the wolf. "But Jon said he'd send Ghost back for us, right? So he must be alive."
Caitie snorted. Even after all this time, he hadn't changed his tune. "I wish I could be so certain."
"Edd's cynicism has rubbed off on you." Caitie scowled, leading Sam to go quiet. He scrunched his face up, thinking. "I know you're angry with Edd and Grenn," he said eventually, "but I think you should speak with them."
"Sam, they left you to die."
"I know." He frowned. "But they didn't mean to—they were scared."
"So were you," she pointed out.
Sam didn't answer, but his eyes stayed on Caitie, kind and patient, as if waiting for something.
To think she might never have seen that expression again, if not for Ghost. Suddenly, all of her emotions from the last few days rose to the surface. "I thought you were dead," she told him, tears springing to her eyes. "You're my family, and I thought I'd lost you."
As she started to cry, Ghost abandoned his bone and rested his head on her legs.
"But I'm here," Sam assured her, putting an arm around her shoulders.
She wiped the tears away from her eyes and scowled. "No thanks to them."
He sighed. "They're our friends. You're going to have to forgive them at some point—I have."
"That's because you're too nice."
"Oh, there's no such thing. Besides, they even apologized to me."
"They did?" She wasn't sure she believed it. But Sam nodded earnestly, and while he was many things, he wasn't a liar.
As much as she hated to admit it, she missed hearing Edd's witty remarks and Grenn's—well, just his presence in general. She had already lost Jon; she didn't want to lose them, too. Not when she had so few friends left.
Besides, Sam was the one they'd left, the one they'd hurt. He was the one who mattered. If they'd truly apologized, and he had forgiven them, then maybe it was time for her to let her anger go—or at least try.
But something beyond anger was holding her back from speaking with them. "What would I say to them?"
"That's something only you can know," Sam said.
Closing her eyes, she shook her head. "They won't forgive me."
"What do you mean?"
Caitie felt like a child caught doing something naughty. Which she supposed she had, in a way. "I sort of," she forced herself to admit the truth, "threatened them."
"Gods be good." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "What did you say this time?"
Caitie grimaced, but she relayed the threat she'd given. "I didn't mean it," she said. "I was just so afraid, and angry, and the words came out before I could think about it."
Sam was quiet for a moment. "Well," he replied slowly, "take this as a lesson, then. Next time, think before you speak."
Caitie burst out laughing. That sentence could have summed up her entire life. But maybe it was time she changed it. If she didn't want to turn out like her father, she had no other choice, did she?
"All right," she said, "I'll talk to them. And I'll think first, this time."
Sam grinned at her and shooed her with his hands. "Go on."
Pushing herself off the ground, Caitie took a deep breath and made her way over to the fire, where Grenn and Edd were relaxing. She sat across from the two men, who looked at her apprehensively.
There was utter silence before she worked up the courage to break it.
"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I'm sorry I yelled at you when I thought Sam was... gone. I'm sorry I threatened you—I was wrong. There's nothing I can say to make it better, and I'd understand if neither you ever wanted to talk to me again. But... you're my friends. And I'd like to keep it that way."
Neither answered, and the quiet took hold again. For one terrible moment, Caitie thought they might not accept.
Finally, Grenn and Edd glanced at each other, and the latter chuckled. "Well, you're damn menacing for someone your size, I'll give you that."
Caitie blew out a breath, letting some of her tension go as she did. "Thanks," she said. "Um, that was a compliment, right?"
"Aye, that it was."
She looked over at Grenn, who hadn't said a word. He was staring at her with a strange expression on his face, and she silently pleaded for him to accept the apology, too.
Then, nonchalantly, he said, "I'm just glad you didn't mean it. I'd like to stay living."
"It wasn't my finest moment." Caitie looked down at her feet, embarrassed. "I'm really sorry."
Grenn shrugged. "Don't worry about it. We were all messed up from the fight. I won't hold it against you, since you saved my life." Grinning mischievously, he added, "For right now, at least."
"I'm forever in your debt," Caitie replied wryly.
Edd snorted. "Well, you're a pain in the ass, sometimes. But we still like you."
"Good." The rest of the tension she'd been carrying for days finally leaked out of her body. "That's good."
Grenn cleared his throat before he spoke again, more softly than Caitie thought him capable. "I do care about Sam, y'know."
"I know."
Grenn elbowed Edd, who gave him a pointed look and inclined his head towards Caitie.
Edd rolled his eyes, but agreed, "Aye, me too."
The scene caused her to smile. And suddenly Caitie had an idea. "I'm glad to hear it," she said. "Because I want your help protecting him from Rast."
Grenn knit his brows together. "The lord commander said—"
"I know what he said. Rast will keep Sam alive, but it won't stop his torments." When neither uttered a word, Caitie added, "It's no different from protecting him at Castle Black."
Grenn considered the point for a moment. Then he chuckled and gave her a lopsided grin. "All right, just like last time, I'm in."
They both turned to look at Edd, who, once again, rolled his eyes. "Pain in the ass," he muttered.
"And yet," Caitie replied, crossing her arms, "you still like me."