Theon refused to leave the kennels.

Lyarra was informed by Anni after Maester Wolkan had unsuccessfully told Theon of the Bolton mass-poisoning. Theon didn't believe it– he thought it a trick, a test from Ramsay. Thus, the lady of the household would need to convince him herself.

She held up her skirts as she entered the kennels, who no longer barked at her. "Anni," she called, the girl lingering behind carrying Minisa. "Please inform the others that from now on, these dogs will be fed regularly and they will never again have human flesh."

She nodded and left. Lyarra went to the last cage in the row, staring through the bars at Theon, who glanced at her skeptically and turned away.

"Reek," she said gently, giving up on her attempt to hold up her skirt and simply kneeling beside him. "Maester Wolkan was not lying. Ramsay isn't here anymore. He can't hurt you."

"He'll hurt," said Theon softly. "He does it. If you don't do what he says, he hurts you."

"I know that. He used to be able to do such things. But he's gone now and so are his Bolton men. It's just us now. Would you like to go for a walk? I can show you that they are not here."

He turned his head, but did not budge. "It isn't a trick," she said. She sat up, unlocking the door and opening it. She began to walk, beckoning him after her. "You can come along now or later, but I swear to you, all is well."

He began to follow once she reached the end of the kennels. Shoulders slumped forward, eyes tracking his feet, he trailed after her meekly. She waited for him at the entrance then continued on into the castle.

It was quiet. He noticed the servants removing the flayed bodies. "That could not happen unless Ramsay were gone," said Lyarra. "He cannot torment anyone anymore. Come, into the castle."

She led him through past the dining hall first, so he could see where the servants had covered the dead bodies with sheets. She walked him up to Ramsay's room, so he could see it was empty.

"This was your old room," she said, stopping in front of his chambers, now belonging to Lady Walda. "And this..." She beckoned him down the hall, closer to her door, "is your new one. Right next to me."

She pushed open the door and showed him the bath that was drawn. "That's for you," she said. She approached, dipping her fingers delicately into the water. "It's warm." She let him examine it as she brought forward a pile of clothes that'd been left on his bed. "And this is what you will wear. No more rags, Reek. Would you like me to help you bathe? If not, I could step out."

His hands shook as he tried to undress. "How did you do it? How did you..."

"After I was taken from Winterfell, an Ironborn named Dollen tried to take me back to the Iron Islands. Nana killed him, and then we were found by a kind witch named Maggy. She taught me about plants. Wait here, I'll show you."

When she returned with a smaller bag of seeds and a bowl, she found he'd already lowered himself into the water. He still flinched when she opened the door, but watched her curiously as she popped a floorboard under his bed and poured the seeds there, coiling her fingers to make the flowers sprout.

"I grew poison," she said. "I dosed Myranda with daffodils. I used tansy to keep myself from growing pregnant. I used chamomile to relax Ramsay and the dogs. And tonight I dosed everyone else. Winterfell is mine again– ours. Remember the story I told you, about Theon Greyjoy?"

His eyes flickered in recognition. "Yes. Ramsay had me pretend to be him to retake Moat Cailin." He cringed at his own words. "I was Theon Greyjoy. But not anymore. I am Reek."

"You don't need to be Reek anymore. That story about Theon, I ended it by telling you that I did not wish to be angry at Theon forever. I told you I wished to speak with him and to forgive him."

She neared, slowly so as to not startle him. He'd yet to begin washing himself. "May I help you?" she asked. He nodded, and she took the cloth, carefully cleaning him.

"I can help you until you are comfortable doing this on your own," she said. "I've pastes I know how to make with these same plants so that your wounds will close fully. I know of teas I can make you so you might regain your strength. From today onward, I'd like you to dine with me, so we may make sure the both of us are eating enough. Does that sound like it would be nice?"

He nodded. "Good," she said, carefully beginning to clean him. "I will never demand that you tell me exactly what Ramsay did to you. You can choose when you tell that story just as you can choose who you will be... will you let Ramsay's torment live on and remain Reek, or will you rebuild yourself as Theon? No one can decide that but you. I know that I never would've survived what he did to you... it's why I could not remain angry when I saw you.

"I already knew you hadn't truly killed Bran and Rickon, even if I remembered what you did to Rodrik and Smalljon. I saw you so... so hurt and I knew that's what this was, this cycle that does not end. You hurt because your father made you believe it was the answer. I was too stubborn to understand that, back when you and I were growing up together. I always saw you as part of my family but I did not truly see you, Theon. For that, I must apologize."

He craned his neck to look up at her, as if stunned to hear this. "I am sorry I did not make you feel like you were one of us," said Lyarra. "I am sorry that your father... behaved as an awful man and made you carry his burden. You did not deserve that. You have already paid the price for your sins and I will demand nothing more of you. If, after my letter, House Umber demands anything–"

"I did not harm Ned Umber," whispered Theon. "I couldn't find him... just as I could not find Bran or Rickon. They were two farm boys. I burned them so no one would know. If your brothers are alive... so is Ned Umber."

She smiled, albeit weakly. "I should hope that to be true. I should hope that we will find all my siblings and have them brought back here." She began to clean his face carefully. "I forgive you, Theon. Even if others would not wish to. It is my choice because even in the short months I was wed to Ramsay, I knew what sort of man he was and he did something to you that you should never have endured. I wish I could undo that suffering. But as I cannot, then I know I will not add anything further. My father taught me to forgive and that is what I will do."

"My real father lost his head that day in King's Landing," said Theon, voice breaking. "I felt that... more deeply once I came here. When Ramsay cut parts away until there was no more Theon left."

"We will regrow that," promised Lyarra. "If you wish. We will take care of Theon and we will make Theon be Theonagain." She smoothed her hands carefully through his hair, pushing it back and kissing his forehead. "I will protect you. I will protect you because no one truly made you feel you were being protected before. Even if you think you have no family, I will be your family. Me and Minisa. You will always have us, this I swear to you."

She stood, returning to her plants with the intention of beginning the paste, so she might smear it on his wounds before he dressed. She sensed him remaining seated, then heard him ask, "Did you really think of me?"

Lyarra looked over her shoulder. "How do you mean?"

He seemed afraid to ask again, eyes darting all around her before finally focusing on he face. He shifted, but did not stand, as if only nervous of her gaze. "Did you really think of me, when you needed to be wed? When you needed someone to be the father of your child?"

She smiled sadly. "I did. My father chose Smalljon for me instead. I... I knew I would be happy married to you but I knew you would not like it."

"Why did you believe I would dislike it?"

"You liked being with girls. I suppose in a sense I liked being with boys... but it was only me and Lance, hidden away. I thought you'd want more of me and I thought... you did not think of me that way. I knew that we'd never really spoken and it was unrealistic to think you'd enjoy being wed to me simply because I trusted you and didn't want to have to leave Winterfell."

He didn't speak for a moment, and she plucked the leaves she needed to make her paste, then reached for the bowl she brought, starting to mash it all as Theon emerged from the bath, carefully drying himself.

"I wouldn't have minded it."

With the paste ready, she faced him, seeing how he shivered beneath his cloak. "I think many things would have been different if that had happened," Theon murmured. "I would not have felt separated from your family. I thought you were beautiful but I knew... well, I had liked you for a time. But I thought I could never..."

He shrugged off the cloak, letting her begin smearing the paste on the scars along his back. "I did enjoy brothels," he admitted as she worked her hands around his body. "But I can never enjoy one again. Ramsay made sure of that when he... he removed what was left of me. I would not even want to. I do not wish to be like the man I was... that Theon believed those moments to be the most important, the only things that mattered." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I can never again be a choice for you to wed."

"Because of that?" said Lyarra, bewildered as he faced her so she could cover his chest and face. "Theon, I do not need to wed anymore. I will never again do it unless it is my choice. And if it were my choice, that is not what would matter to me. If I were to want to marry you a second time, it would be for along the same reasons as the first. You were someone I could trust. I hope that you and I can rebuild that with each other. That we can be a family again. Get to know one another more than we ever did."

She saw he didn't seem convinced over this hypothetical situation. She added, "And truth be told, I don't believe I wish to ever bed anyone again."

He blinked. "Why?"

"My curiosities may not have been as overt as yours, but I've often considered how my choices landed me in quite some trouble," she said. "When Maggy began to teach me how to manipulate, how to survive, she mentioned... she mentioned those tricks being useful to seduce. I had to bed Ramsay to keep him satisfied and I hated every second of it because I became this... this monster. I was no better than him. I was lying and I was using myself to... to reach a goal. I don't know how long it will take me to feel as though my body is my own again, to feel as though my character is no longer sullied. I don't crave it and I think that will remain. I never want to reach a point this low again. I know it cannot be compared to what you went through, and perhaps it sounds silly–"

"No, it does not," said Theon. "You're no monster, Lyarra. You haven't done things like... like what Ramsay did. Like what I did."

"Are you so certain?" She shook her head. "You killed Rodrik and Smalljon. Ramsay killed loads more with his bare hands and tortured you. I was the reason Myranda and Roose died. I killed Ramsay and all those other Bolton men without caring if they had wives and children. Simply because I removed the evil from our home does not mean I hold no spot of evil in myself. I did everything with the same intention. I did terrible things, even if it was to terrible people. I think we can all be monsters. The difference is that some are proud of being monsters and refuse to be anything else. Whereas we... I suppose we see ourselves as monsters, we hate it, and we promise to never be monsters again."

She offered him the bowl. "Here, for below your waist. Smear on a thin layer." She turned away respectfully, cleaning her hands in the tub. She gathered her plants from beneath the floorboards and had finished tucking the seeds away in the bag by the time Theon was done and had fully dressed himself.

The ravens were answered by week's end, at least from the closest houses. The majority of those in the North had responded immediately to say that they were pleased with the change of leadership. The larger houses had promised men to be sent there before the next moon.

House Umber had informed her that Hother, Smalljon's younger brother, would be bringing a gift to Lyarra as soon as he was able to. They'd also attached a letter filled with things she should know about the North, given they weren't sure what she had or hadn't been allowed to know as Ramsay's wife.

She'd had provisions sent to Deepwood Motte after learning that House Glover had successfully retaken it from the Ironborn. Apparently they still harbored resentment for Robb for not having helped them when the Ironborn initially attacked their castle. With any luck, they'd see that she meant to be different, and was hoping for their support. If she had to exchange letters at length to convince them of this, she would.

Hother had arranged for his wife, Tory of House Karstark, to write to her brother about negotiations with Lyarra. He'd been one of Ramsay's firmest supporters, and Hother promised that he would not rest until he'd seen the damage mended and House Karstark once more a friend to House Stark. He'd admitted that Tory's brother was unwell in recent weeks, and it was possible his young daughter Alys would take the seat at the Karhold soon, which meant bygones could more easily be left as bygones. It wasn't Lyarra's fault, after all, that Robb had made the choice he did. She'd ensure such a thing never happened again.

He'd also informed her that his sister Esther had been married to Wendel Manderly, who'd died at the Red Wedding. His old father had voiced support for the Boltons out of fear, given Esther's children were too young to take the seat from their grandfather should he have passed during their reign. Now, Hother would ensure that proper allegiance was claimed toward the Starks, with his eldest nephew prepared to be guided by his mother in ruling over White Harbor.

"We've yet to hear anything about my sisters," said Lyarra, walking through the courtyard with Theon and Minisa, the gates open continuously to let men arrive from the other houses. Some were Stark men who'd sought refuge there for a time, others were entirely new but could be spared for a longer period of time. She intended to greet every single one of them. "Or my brothers. There has been silence from Castle Black– I do not know if Jon received my letter."

"You're not still thinking about what the witch said, are you?" said Theon, flinching for a moment as a man passed with a sack of wheat close to his head. "Could be many years from now."

"Could be," she agreed, taking his hand gently to guide him to stand on the other side of her, where there wasn't as much movement. "But Maggy made it seem as if he'd die soon. As in, near when I was making the choice of who to go and find my siblings. I may be too late... maybe whoever is the Commander of the Night's Watch won't wish to answer, won't care who I am or what I need."

The horn sounded above. "Riders approaching! House Umber banners!"

"It's Hother!" said Lyarra excitedly, tapping Minisa's back. She guided Theon aside, waiting eagerly as the horses rode in, all carrying tall and strong-looking men, as giant-like as Smalljon had described.

One horse carried a burly man and a small boy whose eyes lit up gladly when he saw Lyarra. She would have recognized him even if he hadn't reminded her who he was– how could she forget that sweet face?

"Lyarra!" cried little Ned, waving his little hands at her as Hother Umber guided the horse out of the line toward her. "Lyarra, it's Ned! We brought you and my sister a gift!"

"Hello there, Lady Stark," said Hother, dismounting then carrying the boy with him. He looked nothing like Smalljon, though Lyarra attributed that to the fact Hother had no beard and had his hair cut much shorter. He also had a crooked nose, as if it had been broken once and did not heal properly. "This little one refused to remain behind."

Ned must have been almost seven now, much taller than when she last saw him. She knelt down to hug him, kissing each of his cheeks. "You've grown so much!" she marveled. "My sweet boy, I am so very glad to see that you are safe."

"Minisa has grown, too," he said, cupping his sister's chubby cheeks. "She's got dark eyes like you!" The girl beamed, babbling at him as if trying to speak. "And she smiles like my papa."

Hother offered Lyarra a hand to help her up, glancing at Theon and tightening his jaw. Theon immediately looked down at his feet. "The nerve you have to stand here," sneered Hother. "I should take you to Last Hearth and have you run through the forest while I hunt you."

"Lord Umber," said Lyarra carefully, "as I stated in my letter, Theon is part of my household and under my protection. You and I have much to discuss in that regard, but it will not occur here." She gave him a hard look when he refused to look away from Theon. "I thank you for bringing your men here, along with your nephew– it is a great gift."

Hother spoke tightly, "That is not the gift." He gestured behind him, to where a group of men were aiding a woman and boy dismount from smaller horses. Her eyes widened. "Osha? Rickon?"

Rickon sprinted to her without a second thought. Lyarra had only a few seconds to hand Minisa to Theon so that she could fall to her knees, reaching out for her little brother and pulling him into her arms. "My boy," she said, holding the back of his head and beginning to cry. "My boy, you're here, you're safe."

"I missed you," said Rickon, burying his head in her shoulder. "I thought I'd never see you again. I thought the dreams were real. I prayed to all the gods, like you showed me."

"As did I, my sweet boy," said Lyarra, kissing his cheek and swallowing back a sob. "It is so good to see you again." She pressed her forehead to his, trying to slow her breathing. "Thank the gods, thank all the gods..." She looked up at Hother, who pretended he hadn't been glaring at Theon again. "Thank you, thank you so very much." She turned to Osha. "I am so glad to see you are both alright. Where are Bran and Hodor?"

"I've much to tell you about them," said Osha with a weak smile. "It is best said elsewhere."

She stared at her gratefully. "Thank you for keeping him safe."

"He was happy to be in the company of his friend," said Osha, side-eyeing Theon about as much as Hother was.

Lyarra got to her feet. She took Minisa back, noticing that Theon was growing increasingly uncomfortable. "I'll go and find you later, Theon, you may return to your chambers if you wish." He nodded quickly and walked off, past the sneers of the Umber men. "Come," said Lyarra, beckoning them to the hall. "Let us sit and speak."

She had food brought in for them as Osha began to explain what had happened. She'd tried to escape with the boys but had had to double back when Theon's men had been looking for them. They'd hidden in the crypts, right under their noses. Only Maester Luwin had found them, but he'd been unable to tell Lyarra. After Winterfell was sacked, they fled North, where they found two teenagers named Jojen and Meera Reed.

Jojen had received a vision about finding Bran, and the pair of siblings joined them in traveling toward Castle Black to find Jon. Osha had been concerned about Jojen influencing Bran with ideas about black magic, given Bran changed his mind about Castle Black the moment Jojen mentioned that Jon had gone beyond-the-Wall. The two believed that a Three-Eyed Raven was waiting there for Bran.

Osha had not wanted to go north of the Wall again. Her husband had died and returned to their home as a wight, a walking corpse. By then, Bran had learned how to warg into Summer, Shaggydog, and Hodor at will. He'd decided that Osha would take Rickon and Ned to Last Hearth and remain there– for Rickon's safety and to suit Osha's preference of not going beyond-the-Wall. She had no idea where they were now or whether they'd reached this so-called Three-Eyed Raven or not.

Even while they'd been in Last Hearth, they hadn't found peace. Hother had been unable to send men to the Wall to help the Night's Watch when a gigantic army of wildlings attacked, given wildlings that'd crossed the Wall had tried to attack his seat. Stannis had arrived to help the Night's Watch and had been responsible for burning the wildling leader, Mance Rayder, at the stake. He would have had the provisions to journey for the attack on Winterfell if Ramsay's men hadn't burned their supplies.

The Red Priestess that had been whispering in Stannis's ear abandoned him before the battle. What Hother heard from a deserter of the army who sought refuge at Last Hearth was that she'd sacrificed Stannis's daughter, the Princess Shireen, to ensure their victory. A little girl had been burnt all for nothing. Stannis's men had abandoned him after he allowed such a cruel thing. It wasn't their first time witnessing sacrifices to the Lord of Light, but this had gone too far.

"And what of Theon?" asked Hother, leaning back in his chair and turning his cup around slowly. "Do you know how much I have lost since this war began, Lady Stark? My father and two of my siblings went to fight for Robb and were slaughtered at the Red Wedding. My remaining sisters lost their husbands. The one I did not expect to lose was Smalljon. I was saved from losing my life because I had to remain at Last Hearth while he attended to you here. Then, he never came back. From what I knew, both of his children were dead, too, as was his wife. Yet here she is, sheltering his killer."

"Nothing that I say now will return your brother to you," said Lyarra. "Nor will killing Theon accomplish that. You have no idea what Ramsay Bolton did to him. What Ramsay Bolton would have done to me. Theon paid the price for his sins. He made a terrible choice and he killed a good man."

Her fist clenched, and she tapped it against the table. "I watched him die, Hother. That image was burned into my mind. I wanted Theon dead for what he'd done, I wanted him to feel an ounce of Smalljon's suffering. And then, I realized the magnitude of that. I poisoned an army of men here the day I sent you that letter. Men who helped our siblings and parents be murdered. Men who flayed the Ironborn who hurt Smalljon. Theon suffered more than anyone should for what he did. Ramsay killed a part of who he was, he broke him. I assure you, the man you saw out there is not the same man who killed your brother. I counsel you against revenge for that reason, not because I have forgotten what he did, but because I choose to forgive lest we all become consumed by the same bloodlust and anger that started all this in the first place. I beg of you to show Theon mercy because he has learned his lesson. I vouch for him."

Hother slid his tongue across his teeth. "You vouch for him?"

"Yes. As your brother's wife. As the mother to his daughter. As the girl who grew up cared for by Rodrik Cassel. As the woman who thought she witnessed her brothers' burnt corpses hung off the battlements. Please... he has suffered enough."

"Very well," said Hother, shrugging his shoulders. "If you can forgive him, then I can refrain from killing him. As long as you never forget what he cost us."

"I am well aware of what we lost when he killed Smalljon," said Lyarra. "My daughter was going to have a wonderful father. I... I was happy every single day that I was his wife. I may not have known him as you did but I cared for him deeply. I still do. I will not forget his kindness."

"Good. The North Remembers." He reached for his cup, finishing his wine. "I think I've been fed enough. I bid you good night, my lady–"

The horn blew again. Lyarra stood quickly. "I must go and greet whoever has arrived," she said. "I wish to thank all those who are offering support. I'll return shortly."

The others nodded, and she darted out quickly, entering the courtyard as a lone rider arrived, cloaked in all black.

"Jon?" she called out.

Her brother turned, very much alive.