For the first few days of their journey, neither Grenn nor Edd asked her questions, though, judging from their mannerisms, Caitie could tell it took everything they had not to do so.

As they made their way through the Haunted Forest, Edd would stare at her with his brows knit together, obviously wanting answers but not knowing what questions he needed to ask to get them. When he wasn't doing that, he was muttering insults, usually directed towards the mutineers. Every once in a while, he would direct a couple towards Craster or the White Walkers.

Grenn was an entirely different story. While Edd let his thoughts show, Grenn said as few words as he could get away with, and he tried to keep his distance from Caitie whenever possible. In fact, he could barely bring himself to look at her. He kept his posture rigid at all times, and when he did look at Caitie, his eyes were blank.

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.

Luckily—or maybe unluckily—there were more important things for her to focus on. What would be worse, she constantly wondered: running into a White Walker, or being recaptured by the mutineers?

Neither, Caitie decided. Definitely neither.

On their third day of travel, they came to the first abandoned Wildling village. Caitie voiced her opinion that they should stop early, since they didn't know when they might find this kind of shelter again. The others agreed, and after starting a small fire and getting settled in one of the huts—only a small rectangular shack with one window and a thatched roof—Edd approached her. "You said you'd explain."

Caitie kept her focus on Edd, but she could still sense Grenn's eyes on her, leaning against the wall opposite to them. Despite his cold attitude towards her, he was apparently too curious to resist the temptation of listening.

Caitie almost refused—she was freezing, tired, hungry, scared, and her wrists were killing her. The last thing she wanted was to discuss what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. Especially after Grenn had been... less than agreeable since she'd told him the truth.

But she had promised them, and after lying for so long, felt she owed them an explanation. "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 to that question. Her father was the reason she had hidden in the Night's Watch; there was no way to separate the two. But of all the things she disliked talking about, he remained chief among them. Discussing his effect on her childhood always left her emotionally volatile and exhausted, caught between wanting to cry and wanting to throw something.

Yet, underneath the canopy of trees, scared and in pain and feeling utterly alone, she couldn't stop thinking about her father, because he was the entire reason she was inthe current predicament to begin with.

Her father was the sort of man who charmed everyone around him—that was what he cared about: being respected, and liked, and powerful. Those on the outside would never know who he was in the privacy of his home. He never crossed any lines, of course; everything he did stayed within the bounds of socially acceptable conduct—especially in the public eye. It was all insinuation and denial, rage and whippings followed by charm; pretending that everything he did to his children was him trying to help them. As if his abuse were for their own good. Maybe he even believed it himself.

Caitie knew better. He could try to manipulate her into believing everything he had done to her, to Arthur, even to Owen and Cerys, were because they mattered to him, but it wasn't true, no matter how much she might want it to be. Her father didn't love his children; he loved the idea of them. He loved what they could bring him, how they made him look. All that truly mattered to Rendon Norrey was power and adoration, and so long as he felt his children were keeping it out of his reach, he would hate them.

In the end, Caitie couldn't bring herself to say any of this out loud. Not now, after everything she'd gone through in the last month. Grenn and Edd wouldn't understand it, anyway, and if they were going to turn on her, then she doubted they'd care why she'd hidden in the Night's Watch.

So, instead, 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 do what I was told, so my brothers sent me to the Night's Watch to hide out for a while."

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

"I had hoped…" Caitie had hoped that by the time she got 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, childish dream. "It doesn't matter."

Edd hesitated, and she could tell he wanted to ask more. But he seemed to recognize her discomfort, and, respecting Caitie's desire not to elaborate, changed the subject. "But if you're a lady, how'd you learn to fight?"

She sighed in relief; this was a question she could answer. "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."

Caitie had to suppress a smile, because, truthfully, Owen had always been good at sewing and embroidery. He even had made Caitie a dress for her eleventh nameday, though she didn't like to linger on that memory for longer than necessary. She simply didn't have the patience for something so tedious. She wished she did, but she had always preferred wearing dresses to making them.

"Fuck," Edd swore, shaking 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."

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 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. If they ever did, she made an oath to herself to learn at least a little of the healing arts from Maester Aemon. Considering the way her life was going, she presumed she'd need it in the future.

By the time they'd finished with setting up camp, Grenn had gone from ignoring her to barely concealing his glares. 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?"

His confusion melted into a carefully neutral expression. "Nothing."

"Grenn," she sighed, "this has been an awful month. I'm not in the mood for you to be evasive."

There was a pause. "Well," he said, his mask slipping and his face contorting into a scowl, "the more I've thought about it, the more I've realized it's been almost two years 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 bristled, 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 in not telling him—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, "of course I thought about telling you. But you have no idea what it was like—being in danger like I was all the time. I couldn't risk it."

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?" Her voice bordered on screaming. "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."

She 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. Neither one of them followed him.

After he was out of sight, Edd turned back to look at her 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."

At those words, a sob escaped, 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?"

"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. Can't hurt."

"I'd never have expected you to be so… okay with this."

He shrugged. "I can see you're good in a fight—I'm not stupid enough to throw that away. Besides, we're friends. That doesn't change just 'cause you don't have a cock."

It was as close to a compliment as one could get with him. "Thank you," she said. "Really, it means a lot."

"Ah, don't mention it. You're a good kid. Annoying, but good."

Caitie shifted in her seat as curiosity got the better of her; anything to get her mind off of Grenn and everything he'd said. "Edd?" she asked. "What's your real name? I've always wondered—I can't imagine your parents named you Dolorous."

He cleared his throat. "Eddison Tollett."

Caitie blinked. She recognized that name. It belonged to a house in the Vale. "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. Caitie supposed she should have known he wouldn't appreciate a heartfelt display of sympathy. But that didn't mean it didn't bother him.

She furrowed her brows, trying to figure out what to say. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don't know where my brothers are, either. They were fighting in the war last I'd heard, but I haven't been able to contact them since."

"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 somber but companionable 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. But I'm still gonna do you a favor and go find him."

"Fine, if it's so important to you," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

Edd snorted, but he didn't bother pushing back against her. With a little wave, he pushed open the door to the outside and stepped through it, leaving Caitie alone to stew on all her conflicting emotions.

Somehow, an hour or so later, Edd persuaded Grenn to come back from the outskirts of the Wildling village. When they returned together, Caitie refused to be within ten feet of him. It wasn't until the night became too cold that they were forced into the hut. The only light came from their little fire, which made it easy for Caitie to lie down, close her eyes, and act like Grenn wasn't there.

When he finally approached her late into the night, she laid still, pretending to be asleep. He touched her shoulder and cleared his throat. "Hey."

She didn't react, keeping her eyes shut tight.

"Come on, I just wanna talk."

Still, she ignored him, listening to the sounds of Edd's snores from the other side of the room.

"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 at him.

"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—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. Caitie frowned, taking in what Grenn had told her. Grenn looked around their little hut, awkwardly waiting for her to say something.

And then, somehow, her mouth starting moving without her brain giving it permission. "I never liked the name Caitriona," she blurted. "Not only is it an absolute mouthful, but it was also the name of King Torrhen Stark's wife. I don't know if you know who he is, but no sane Northerner would want to have a name associated with him. My father didn't care—I think he just liked that I was named for a queen, whatever her husband had done—but my oldest brother spent an entire week after I was born trying to convince my mother to name me something else. No one could ever figure out why she liked the name so much. Anyway, my brothers called me Riona because Arthur couldn't pronounce my full name when he was little, and the nickname stuck."

Caitie didn't know why she was telling Grenn any of this—she rarely ever talked about her mother beyond the basics—but she just couldn't stop. Word-vomit, she decided to call it.

"Arthur?" Grenn asked.

"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. "The point is, if you ever refer to me as Caitriona again, I will stick a dagger so deep in your throat, you'll have to be buried with it."

She wasn't serious, but she liked the way the threat sounded. Still, she smiled and bumped her shoulder with his, so he'd know she didn't mean it. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of the Fist.

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

"You really didn't mean what you said?" she asked, less confidently than she would have liked.

"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. Edd said you'd have the right to be."

She shrugged. "I've always been quick to anger and quick to forgive. That's what Owen said about me. My oldest brother," she clarified when Grenn looked confused.

"About that," he said. "You said you were hiding from your father. Why?"

Caitie pursed her lips. "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 thoughtfully. "Wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Caitie frowned. Whether or not he wished it on her 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."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," she replied immediately, and then hesitated. "I'm... glad you're with me—with us."

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. She was completely aware of his body and its relation to hers. When she tried to distract herself by looking at his face, she found she couldn't look away. His beard had grown out, and he had a few small cuts on his face, though they were healing up. She wondered vaguely what would happen if she reached out and touched them.

Grenn was observing her too, she realized. His pupils were so large, she couldn't see the color of his eyes.

Neither said anything, but they didn't move, either. If she hadn't yawned, she didn't know what would have happened.

The spell broke, and 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."

After he'd finished speaking, she realized something: this 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. Because, at last, there were more secrets between them.

Not my favorite chapter I've ever written, but I think it gets the job done.

Also, Torrhen Stark's wife's name is unknown. I figured I'd better give the name Caitriona at least some presence in the lore, so why not?