The trial began as soon as Castle Black's great hall was restored.
Stannis Baratheon, flanked by his Hand and his red priestess, watched from the sidelines. The king's posture was ramrod straight, his face passive. He gave nothing away regarding how he felt about the trial—or about the situation in general. Beside him, the king's red priestess, Lady Melisandre, watched everyone with an odd smile, as though she could read the thoughts of everyone in the room. She was so out of place at Castle Black, with her long flowing red hair and dress, that if Caitie hadn't seen the king speaking to her earlier, she would have thought Melisandre a figment of her imagination.
Meanwhile, the Hand of the King, Ser Davos, a tall man with balding grey hair and a kind face, seemed the opposite of the Red Woman, looking thoroughly confused as to why he and his king were here.
Caitie was confused about that, too. But she couldn't linger on the question for long, as she had more important things to worry about.
"I simply do not see why this trial is necessary," Maester Aemon said with a tired sigh. He sat at the very end of the great table. Joining him were Janos Slynt and the First Steward, Bowen Marsh. Beside them, Othell Yarwyck, One-eyed Joe. And at the center of them all, eyes glinting with unrepentant fury as he glared down at her, was Ser Alliser Thorne. "Lord Commander Mormont was very specific in his wishes—"
"Lord Commander Mormont isn't here," Thorne interrupted. "I am acting commander, and under my command, treason will not go unpunished."
Treason.
Until that moment, her fate had seemed abstract, blissfully far away as she sat in her quarters night after night and day after day, stewing on memories of lost loved ones and betrayals. She had hardly left it—or her bed, for that matter—since her conversation with Maester Aemon in the library, for it seemed safer cooped up there, with Ghost guarding her door.
At least, that was what she told herself.
But now the gravity of what she faced—what she had been accused of—hit her in full force. She felt small, standing below the Night's Watch officers, and weak, wanting to defend herself but not knowing how; trying to keep an unexpected surge of fury under control. Grenn was dead because Ser Alliser, in his arrogance and hatred, had refused to seal the tunnel. He had killed six brothers; he had hurt the Night's Watch, the people she loved, over and over in his hatred and blindness. And yet, he accused Caitie of treason.
Edd's eyes burned a hole in her back; though she could not see him, she knew he was watching. He stood behind her in the center of the hall, for Ser Alliser had assigned him as her guard, apparently thinking that she might try to escape—as if her ribs would have let her. Edd had barely said two words, refusing to make eye contact as he helped her hobble down to the corridors to the hall for her trial. Caitie tried not to let him see how much it hurt.
Not for the first time, she wished she could have just stayed in her quarters until the choosing instead of facing everyone.
"She's been a great help to the Watch," Yarwyck argued. "I don't relish the thought of a girl here, but if we can make an exception for that Wildling... woman, we can make an exception for her. Send Caitie away, if you want. But a trial is for men of the Night's Watch, not women."
One-Eyed Joe scoffed. "Bah, you're being too soft. This girl... this traitor was under my command. Unlike the Wildling whore, she lied to us all. A trial is the least we should do for her."
Any hope she might have had sunk to the bottom of the ocean. One-eyed Joe had always been nice, if a bit cranky. They had never spoken much outside of her stable duties, but she'd believed he respected her.
Obviously not enough. But it's just another nail in my coffin, I suppose. She looked away from him, glaring back up at Thorne. The acting lord commander raised an eyebrow at her and smirked.
A taunt. He was taunting her. As if this farce of a trial wasn't humiliation enough. "Caitie."
She steadied herself and met his smirk with a steely glare.
"What's your name?"
"You just said it."
"Your real name, girl," Janos Slynt snapped, nose scrunched up with disgust.
"Caitie is my real name," she said through gritted teeth, clenching her fists at her side to keep herself from throttling him.
In her peripheral vision, she saw Stannis's eyes narrow a fraction.
Slynt glared. "You dare lie—"
Thorne held up a gloved hand to silence his second-in-command. Evidently, he had more important reasons to hate her beyond her name. "We can add refusal to cooperate to your list of crimes if that's what you'd like. But for now, you are accused of disguising yourself as a man; of dishonoring the Night's Watch; of whoring your way into a brother's bed—"
"What?" Caitie asked before she could stop herself. Her heart plummeted; everything else she had expected, but this… they couldn't know about Grenn, could they?
Thorne's smirk widened.
"I was Lord Commander of the city watch in King's Landing," Slynt said, sneering. "You think I wouldn't notice when Brother Grenn snuck into your quarters in the middle of the night? You think I wouldn't have a suspected traitor like you followed, especially after your little adventure with Brother Grenn and Brother Pyp out of Castle Black?"
Caitie blanched. How could he know? But as she considered, the more sense it all made sense. If Sam was right about Jon's popularity, then Slynt would look for any way to eliminate his allies. He'd already suspected Caitie of leaving, and if that was the case, then he'd probably started following her more closely, trying to find proof she'd broken the rules.
He had found out her identity, instead.
Again, Caitie felt Edd's eyes boring into her. She dug her nails into her palms, willing herself not to turn around and see his reaction.
"You defiled our halls—"
"Your halls?" She cut Slynt off with a hysterical laugh. The stupid, furious, vengeful part of her almost brought up how he'd hidden away in the larder while Grenn had sacrificed his life. But knowing what she knew now, she didn't think it would help her situation.
"While you were in King's Landing," she said, hoping no one noticed the tremor in her voice, "I was beyond the Wall fighting for the Watch."
It was the wrong thing to say.
"Silence," Thorne snapped.
"Do you have any evidence of this, Lord Janos?" asked Maester Aemon.
Slynt sneered at him, his jaw twitching. "You'd take the word of this woman over me?"
"I shall take that as a no."
"The brother who saw them died in battle, but Alcott assured me—"
"Lord Janos, unless Brother Alcott can rise from the dead and tell us what he saw, it is not evidence."
Caitie wasn't listening to the prattle any longer. She didn't remember anyone named Alcott in the Night's Watch, but in her defense, all of Ser Alliser's cronies blended together after a while. But the night of the battle, Grenn had heard someone outside her door. She'd been too focused on following Sam into the library to realize that someone had been following her.
"It does not matter." He turned his sneer back towards Caitie. "I know the truth: you seduced Grenn, whored your way into his bed, and used your wiles to make him break his vows."
She wanted to scream, but she bit her tongue and kept quiet, taking deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. She had promised Sam she'd keep her temper under control should it surface, and she'd be damned if she broke it. At least not without a great deal of effort, first.
"You've dishonored the Night's Watch," said Ser Alliser. "Dishonored me and my brothers."
"I dishonored them by fighting with them—saving their lives?" she asked. "They're my brothers, too."
"They are not your brothers. Do not speak of the Watch as if you are a part of it."
She clenched her jaw, refusing to show her tears to the panel of judges. But how could she stay them after hearing such words? Castle Black was her home—the Night's Watch was her family. And if that was true, then she'd lied to her family. She had broken their vows in spirit, if not in technicality, pretended to be someone she wasn't, trespassed on a family she had no right to have. And she could push back against the guilt however much she wanted, reminding herself that Jon and Sam hadn't believed it for even one second, but what did that matter when faced with an entire castle of men who hated her for what she'd done?
Until she thought of Grenn.
She knew what he would tell her, for he always seemed to believe in her more than she'd ever believed in herself. He would tell her that she'd saved lives, and that it counted for something, the rules be damned. And however angry she was with him for leaving her, however much she wanted to follow in his path, this thought gave her strength. So she swallowed the guilt with a promise to Grenn's memory that she wouldn't give in, forcing herself to stare Ser Alliser in the face and speak the truth.
Even if it took everything she had.
"But I am a part of it," she said, hoping that if she could convince herself, then she could convince the others. "I am. I've fought and bled for the Watch just as much as everyone else here."
Thorne scoffed. "Would a man of the Night's Watch disobey orders or seduce his way into his brother's bed?"
"I didn't seduce Grenn," she ground out.
"So he willingly broke his vows to lay with you?"
"No. That's not… nothing happened between us. We were friends, nothing more. He didn't know my identity."
The lie tore through her chest, but she had no other choice. She knew Grenn had loved her. Just because she had to say otherwise didn't make it less true.
"And what of your other friends—Lord Snow and Sam the Slayer? Did they break their vows with you?"
"They didn't know about me, either," she lied. "No one knew before the battle."
"And why should I believe you?"
Something inside of her snapped. Hadn't she proven herself after the things she'd seen and survived? After all that she had given? "Because I've risked my life for the Watch more times than I can count—I've saved more lives than I can count!"
"You should never have been here to begin with, you treasonous bitch," snapped Slynt.
"Enough."
All eyes in the room turned to Maester Aemon; even the king and his advisors.
His voice remained level, even as his milky eyes shone with anger. "Until the choosing, there will be no more deliberation. Only the lord commander may decide what to do with Caitie—"
"Her name is not Caitie," Slynt spat. "I don't know what your name is, girl, but Caitie is the name of a black brother—which you are not. I'll enjoy watching your head roll into the dirt when you are found guilty."
His words had the intended effect on Caitie. She could picture the future Janos Slynt had so gleefully painted; it encroached upon her thoughts even as she put all her energy into refuting it: of Ser Alliser as Lord Commander, of black brothers escorting her to her death. But the worst was the idea of kneeling on the stump, with her hands bound behind her back, waiting for the sword to dislodge her head from her neck.
Waiting helplessly, without any chance of escape.
"Lord Janos," Maester Aemon warned. He nodded at her. "Go, Caitie, you're dismissed."
"Wait," said Thorne. He stared down at her with his cold blue eyes, and she fought a shiver. "I may not be able to give you justice until I'm Lord Commander, but I'm confining you to quarters. Try to leave, and I'll throw you in the dungeons with the Wildings until the choosing. Are we clear?"
"Fine," she muttered, for she knew the threat. If she disobeyed, he would toss her into a cell with Wildling men.
"Edd," Thorne said. "You were friends with this girl. What have you to say about her… dishonesty?"
Edd's answer was immediate, his voice full of conviction and disgust. "She's a disgrace to the Night's Watch. She dishonored me and my brothers."
"That's good to hear." He nodded at the door. "Go on, escort the lady to her quarters."
The great table burst into jeers, the only exception, of course, being Maester Aemon. Edd ignored them. He gripped Caitie's arm and hauled her away without another word. She watched him as they walked, but did not look back at her. Her throat clogged with the tears she'd forced from showing, for he promised he would never hate her, and if what she'd done was enough to change that, then maybe she did deserve whatever she got.
Edd led her down a familiar hallway of dark stone, only just gentle enough not to re-injure her still-healing ribs. At last, they reached the door to her personal quarters. He shoved her inside the room—but instead of slamming the door closed, he followed, shut it behind them, and turned to face her, frowning.
"You all right?"
Caitie's jaw dropped as the truth dawned on her. "You... you said all that on purpose. You made me think you hated me on purpose!"
He rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't be dramatic."
"Dramatic!" she exclaimed. "You said I disgraced the Watch!"
"Aye, I did. And you should be thanking me."
Caitie scowled at him. "Thanking you."
"Aye, thanking me. 'Long as Thorne thinks I'm on his side, he'll let me guard your door. I can let Sam and Jon see you; I can make sure no one bothers you; hell, I can even sneak you some ale."
"Well, that's certainly helpful," she snapped. "Sure, I'm about to get my head cut off, but at least you're willing to bring me ale." As soon as she finished, she knew she had been abominably unfair, so swallowed her self-pity and sighed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to... I'm just, I'm fucked, Edd. I'm well and truly fucked."
"You are." Edd's face grew unnervingly serious. "You and Grenn—was it true?"
Caitie bowed her head, holding off from speaking for as long as she could, for she knew she would have to admit the truth when she did. "Yes," she said at last. "It was."
"He broke his vows?"
"No. He did not break his vows," she said, emphasizing every word. If there was one thing she would always believe, it was that. "There's nothing in the Black that prohibits sex."
"Hmph—tell that to Thorne."
"I don't care about him. He's set on executing me, no matter what. But I do care about you. Do you think I should be executed and Grenn posthumously dishonored?"
"'Course I don't. Can't believe you'd think that." He sighed. "I always knew he was in love with you. Showed on his face every time he looked at you."
Caitie blinked, trying to prevent the tears in her eyes from falling and failing miserably. "I loved him, too."
"Aye, I know. Showed on your face, too. Young love, and all that. Sickening." Yet he smiled fondly, before frowning once more. "I'm sorry you lost him."
It was instinctual, the way her fingers traced the scars on her wrist; she had spent weeks doing just that, even when she was wishing them away with all her might. "I wish he was here," she murmured, despite herself. "He'd know exactly what to say about the trial, about lord commander, about my brothers—all of it."
"You still blaming them?"
"Shouldn't I?" Edd watched her, frowning, and Caitie had the distinct feeling that she was being assessed. "What?"
After a moment's more of observation, he gave a small, wry smile. "Y'know what I think? I don't think you blame them at all. I think you're just mad because you didn't sniff it out sooner."
She blanched at that. "Excuse me?"
Edd smirked as if her answer was a confirmation of his point. "You sniffed out Craster; you sniffed out Locke. But you didn't sniff out Mormont, and your pride got wounded."
Caitie absolutely, positively refused to dignify that with a response. It was ridiculous and untrue and—and she wasn't even going to think about it.
Whatever expression showed on her face made his eyes soften. "You were their little sister; they wanted to protect you. I'd have done the same for my brother."
"You would flat-out lie to him like mine did to me?" she asked.
"If I thought it'd keep him alive. You've got a little brother, too. You'd do whatever you could to keep him safe, right?"
Caitie would. There wasn't any doubt in her mind about it. But she wouldn't lie to him about something so important, either. It wasn't an "either-or" situation.
Wasn't it?
She shook the doubt away. She was done—done talking about her brothers, and done talking about everything that contributed to the constant misery of her life. "Have you ever thought about trying to find him—your brother?" she asked, hoping it would provide a distraction.
Edd shifted from foot to foot. "We, ah, didn't part on good terms. He wasn't happy when I took the black."
"Oh. What happened?"
He sighed. "Well, if I'm remembering right, his last words to me were: 'I don't ever wanna see your godsdamned face again.'"
Caitie blew out a breath. "That's... wow." Edd averted his eyes, clearly finished with this line of questioning, so she changed the subject. "You know, I don't think you ever told me why you decided to join the Night's Watch."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I tell you, you can't laugh."
Caitie didn't think she could ever laugh again, so it was easy for her to answer with, "I won't, I promise."
"Hmm. All right, then. I dunno if you ever met Yoren, but he's the one who recruited me."
She knit her brows together. "Was he the one who liked to tell jokes about throwing recruits off the top of the Wall?"
"So you did know him."
"He escorted me from Mole's Town to Castle Black."
"Ah yeah. Yoren always liked to pick up the new recruits when they came through Mole's Town. Said they could do with some jokes before they had to deal with Thorne."
"Well, he wasn't wrong," she said. "So, how did he recruit you?"
He grimaced, and as he averted his eyes, she realized that Eddison Tollett, a man who had never shown an ounce of shame in all the time she'd known him, was embarrassed. "He told me women could never resist a man in uniform, conveniently leaving out the part about the vows."
Despite her promise, Caitie a giggle burst forth. She clamped her hand over her mouth to stop the sound, but it was too late.
"You said you wouldn't laugh!"
"I-I'm sorry," she said, still trying to contain her amusement—and failing. "But you bought that?"
He crossed his arms and grumbled, "I was young and stupid. How was I s'posed to know vows were involved? Besides, my mother always said the Night's Watch was important. After she died, I figured it was the least I could do to honor her."
Caitie's laughter halted at the admission, for Edd rarely spoke with such seriousness, and that part of it was for her benefit didn't go unrecognized or unappreciated. "I'm sure she'd be proud of you."
Edd snorted. "Mother didn't get proud. She got annoyed, angry, or amused."
"Ah, so that's where you get it from."
He considered this. "Nah, she was worse than me. Woman once chased me out of the keep with a frying pan 'cause I glued my brother's hair to the wall. Had to sleep out with the dogs for two days."
Caitie laughed at the image. "Didn't you say when she died, the whole bed shook?"
"You remembered that conversation?"
Of course she remembered the conversation—in fact, she remembered it too well, as it had directly led to a flare of jealousy over Grenn.
All the pain she had suppressed returned. She could remember exactly how he'd looked that day: lips blue from the cold, wrapped in black furs and leathers, hair dusted with snow. He had stood so close to her, and yet even in her own memory, she couldn't touch him.
Thankfully, a knock on her door sounded, and the memory quickly faded into the far corners of her mind.
"How is she?" Sam asked when the door opened. Caitie saw him crane his neck to see over Edd's shoulder.
She sighed. "I'm facing execution, Sam. I think you can guess."
Edd moved to the side, allowing Sam to rush into her quarters. Gilly followed him, Little Sam in her arms.
Sam sat down beside Caitie on the edge of her bed. "Are you all right? What happened?"
"I'm confined to my quarters until the choosing. If Ser Alliser wins…"
"Then she's fucked."
Gilly fixed Edd with a glare. "She doesn't need to hear she's fucked, Edd."
"Well, it's true."
"I don't care if it's true. It's a horrible thing to say."
He rolled his eyes but relented, muttering, "Sorry."
Caitie shrugged. "It's all right. I said it first." She returned her attention to Sam. "But you really shouldn't be here right now. I told Ser Alliser no one knew who I was. If he thinks you did—"
"He could accuse Jon and I of breaking our vows."
"Aye, he already accused Grenn," Edd said.
Sam's face paled. "How did he—"
"He's had me followed for a while now," Caitie said. "I think you can guess when it started."
"Gods be good. So that's how he knew."
Gilly handed Little Sam to his namesake and sat down on the bed beside Caitie. "Well, he can't accuse me," she said, lifting her chin in defiance. "And I'm not leaving you to deal with this all by yourself. I'll do whatever you need me to."
Caitie sniffled, trying her best not to burst into tears. "Thank you, Gilly."
Gilly squeezed her hand as a knock sounded again. Sam opened it, and the door swung open.
"Olly?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Jon asked me to check and see if the trial was over. He's on his way."
She nodded, glad that Jon seemed to have anticipated how it might look if he barrelled into her quarters the way Sam did. To think at one point, Caitie thought him naïve. He could be scarily perceptive when he wanted.
Olly cleared his throat. "Are you… okay?"
Briefly, Caitie considered lying. After all, Olly was just a boy, and she didn't want to burden him with her problems. But she also knew how patronizing it would be to keep the truth from him, especially considering what he had gone through.
"No," she said at last. "Not really."
"It's not fair what's happening. You killed tons of Wildlings; I saw you. You're a hero."
Caitie wasn't sure she believed that. She certainly didn't feel like a hero; she felt like a fool in a castle of fools, for what had killing Wildlings achieved? It hadn't saved Grenn, Pyp, or the forty-eight others who died. It hadn't stopped the Wildling threat either—Stannis and his army had done that, and without bloodshed, too. If anything, it was killing Willings that had led to her friends' deaths, because as much as Caitie hated Mance Rayder—as much as she wanted to blame him—the Night's Watch refusal to admit they had lost the war had played just as large a part.
But she couldn't say any of this, so Caitie only forced a smile that she was sure didn't reach her eyes. "Go on and get Jon before Ser Alliser catches you here. If you want to be a brother of the Night's Watch, you'd best stay on his good side until the choosing."
Sam eyed Gilly, and she nodded. "I'll go with you."
Olly stiffened, but he didn't protest as he led her away, out the door, and out of sight.
"Edd, could we—" Sam started, but he didn't need to finish.
"Aye. I'll be outside."
Once Edd had gone, Sam turned to her. "How are you, truly?"
"I'm such an idiot, Sam."
"Oh, no," he said reassuringly. "Of course you're not. You're not perfect, but no one is perfect. It's incredible you've stayed hidden as long as you did."
She shook her head, for how in the world could she believe that, now? "I just happened to catch a lucky break. If Slynt's lackey had been able to testify, I don't think even Maester Aemon could have stopped Thorne and the others from executing me."
"Ser Alliser wasn't going to kill you," Sam said surely. "He couldn't without losing votes for the choosing."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, if he tried to execute you, now that everyone knows the lord commander allowed you here, he would lose the support of those who followed Mormont."
Caitie considered this at length. "Then why have a trial to begin with? Just to humiliate me?"
"No. He can't allow you to roam the castle, either. He needs to show his followers he's trying to have you executed; otherwise, he'll lose their support, too. Really, he just wants you safely out of sight."
"What he wants is my head on the chopping block. And once he wins, he's going to get it." She rubbed her temples, trying to ward off her newfound headache. It didn't work. Her head pounded on.
"Please don't say things like that."
"Why not? It's true. I'm going to die. It's only a matter of when. I should have died during the battle with Grenn, but I didn't, so here we are."
"Oh, Kitty... I know it's hard," Sam said, and she could hear a note of panic in his voice, "but you have to keep going—keep trying. It's what Grenn would want."
His words had the opposite effect from what he'd intended. Caitie gaped at him, her cheeks flushing as rage coursed through her. How dare Sam tell her what Grenn would want. He didn't know anything about what Grenn would have wanted. And even if he did, what did it matter now? Grenn was dead. There was no point in wondering what he would want. How was it helpful to remind her of the fact?
Caitie almost said all this, almost screamed it at Sam, for she wanted him to understand, to feel as acutely as she did the gaping hole in her chest. She stopped herself just in time, biting down on her tongue to keep the white-hot anger from consuming her.
"I need a moment," she choked out. "Please?"
"I… All right." He pushed himself up and walked towards the exit, but just before he got to the door, he stopped. "I wish I knew the right thing to say—to make it better."
Caitie's heart squeezed with a mixture of love and guilt. He was trying to help her, because he loved her. She shouldn't be upset at him for it. "I think the only thing that would make it better is seeing him again. But, Sam—thank you for trying."
He gave her a brief, watery smile. "You're very welcome."
As soon as he put his hand on the door handle, it turned. Jon poked his head into her quarters, while Ghost maneuvered his way past his master to curl up in a ball on the floor. He rested his head on Caitie's feet as if to comfort her—and she had to admit that it worked.
"Well?" Jon asked.
Sam looked between them. "I'll… let you two talk."
As he left, Jon took his place on the bed beside her. "What happened?"
"I'm confined to my quarters until the choosing," she said. "And as soon as he wins, Thorne is going to execute me. If Slynt gets his way, it'll be—" She swallowed. "A beheading."
Ghost whined.
"I already knew about that," Jon said. "What did Sam say to upset you?"
"How did you—"
"I'm observant."
"Of course you are." Caitie snorted, shaking her head. "He told me that I have to keep going because it's what Grenn would want for me." Her next words spilled out before she could stop. "But he doesn't want anything. He's dead, and he's not coming back." The ache in her chest was so sharp she could scarcely breathe.
"You don't think what he would have wanted matters?"
"No, I'm saying..." Caitie screwed her eyes shut, trying to make sense of her own thoughts. It was difficult to think through the haze of bitter longing, but eventually she choked out, "I'm saying he isn't here to want things. I know what he wanted, but what he wanted—it died when he did." She took a deep breath to quell her tears. "The things he would have wanted... They don't matter anymore."
Silence followed.
"I don't know what Ygritte would want for me," Jon admitted at last. "She'd probably want to kill me."
"She shot you with three arrows. I think it's safe to say she would."
He snorted before he could catch himself, but once he did, it only seemed to torture him more. He retreated back into his own mind, his expression pensive. The only noise was the wind outside her window.
Then it broke.
"I close my eyes, and I see her lying there in the courtyard," he said. "As long as she was alive, I could hope for… I don't know."
"A future you knew you could never have."
"Aye."
Her eyes wandered her quarters. "Everywhere I look reminds me of him—of the things we did or the things we didn't get to do. I expect him to be there, and he's not." Tears fell before she could stop them, but she didn't try to wipe them away. "There's just... loss, all around me, all the time. It—it knocks me off my feet, over and over, and when I try to stand up or push it back..."
"It consumes you."
She nodded, for Jon had put it perfectly. It was an all-consuming wave of sorrow, knocking down every other emotion in its path, for she wasn't only grieving Grenn's loss. She was grieving the future she might have had with him. And that made everything worse.
Caitie didn't want to let the sorrow consume her. It had, once, and all it had ever done was make the people she loved miserable. But she didn't know how to keep it at bay when all she wanted was to go backward. For she could only move forward, where all that awaited her was pain and death. "I feel like I'm going to drown in it."
"So do I," Jon said. "I wish I knew how to stop it."
"Me too."
The silence stretched on between them. What else could they possibly say? That it would be all right? It wouldn't. At length, Jon sighed. "Maybe it's just a matter of time."
"And a lot of ale," she added as an afterthought.
He snorted, and there was a bit more life in his voice when he spoke this time. "Ale's your answer to everything."
"That's because ale is the answer to everything," she said. "You just refuse to acknowledge the truth."
Jon didn't look convinced. "I remember when you couldn't bring yourself to drink the ale every night. You had to drink tea."
"Seven Hells, don't ever speak of that again." She pointed a finger at him. "Edd can never know. Never."
When Jon chuckled—a genuine one—for the first time since the battle and, after a period of glaring, Caitie joined in, laughing until her ribs ached and she had to force herself to stop. It was then that she realized something; or perhaps she remembered it.
"It's not all sorrow," she said. "I think that's the answer."
"What?"
Caitie took a moment to collect her thoughts before she answered him. "I miss Grenn so much it physically hurts. I'm sad and scared and angry because the good people died and the evil people lived. They'll never have to deal with the consequences while I'll be dealing with the consequences for the rest of my life. I know you feel the same way."
Jon stared at her without saying a word, waiting for her to continue.
She took a shaky breath. "But... we're not alone. We have a castle full of friends—Sam, and Gilly, and Edd—and each other. As long as we have some joy in our lives, grief can't consume us entirely. It'll get... It'll get better."
"You believe that?" Jon asked.
"I have to," she said solemnly, "because the last time, I didn't like the person I became. And I know it isn't going to just go away. It might never go away. But I'm going to survive it, somehow. We both will."
But as soon as she said it, she remembered the truth—a truth she didn't share with Jon: that she wasn't going to survive it. She wasn't going to survive at all. Caitie would die, just like Grenn, and Pyp, and the forty-eight others who had died in the battle. But unlike them, she would be remembered as a traitor; a whore; a stain on the honor of the Night's Watch.
And there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about it.