Jon felt left out.

He wouldn't say it, but Lyarra noticed it from the first day after Theon returned, when he saw her walking through the castle with him, arm in arm. He still wasn't very inclined to speak with Theon, nor was he really up for doing anything other than mining the dragonglass.

Still, he made his little faces, scrunching up his nose when he saw her and Theon out on the cliffs. She noticed he looked upset (though he tried to hide it) when Missandei asked if Lyarra would like to see the library and she invited Theon to come along.

"Go on, say it," she told him, arriving at his chambers with a stack of books. "You're feeling lonely."

He stared at the books. "And this is supposed to... help this feeling you claim I have?"

"Well, we've received word of Daenerys's success in the Reach," she replied. "It won't be long before she returns. In those weeks we wait, we ought to both be reading more about this dragonglass. Missandei helped me find volumes that speak of its properties. There may be something in here that's useful. There aren't many books about White Walkers; I've read them all. I was thinking you and I could give each other a little challenge, see who gets through these the fastest."

He leaned back in his chair. "You don't have to care for me as if I were a child, Lyarra."

"I'm not caring for you as if you're a child. I'm caring for my brother, who is too much of a man to admit he feels hurt by the fact I'm not paying him any attention."

Jon scowled. "That's not true." When she raised a brow, he conceded, "I suppose yes, it's been a tad frustrating that we're on the same island and now I hardly see you. I was without family for so long. I was happy to have you come here with me. I worry we'll all lose you the more you remain here."

"Is it because I said I don't want to be Queen of the North in favor of a quiet life with Minisa?" She sat across from him. "I'll never forget any of you. You remain my big brother whether you like it or not. I'll always come back to bother you. As I will return to care for you and our siblings. Theon... Theon is my family in a different way. He and I have an understanding that requires more attentiveness."

She took his hand. "I am sorry that I have not given that same attention to you. I convinced myself that you and I conquered what we experienced and perhaps that was an unfair assumption to make."

"I still struggle to understand how you forgave Theon so easily. You..." He shook his head.

"I, what?"

"You learned to deal with the worst of men. You learned to manipulate and poison them. Yet with him, it seems, he does not fit into that category."

"I would not consider Theon an evil man. He was bitter, he was confused, he felt he needed to do terrible things for approval. The men I've manipulated and poisoned did terrible things for their own gain, regardless of who approved. I don't rope Theon in with them. He's changed and most importantly, he is still learning. He cares for me, Jon, and he cares for Minisa." More quietly, she added, "I care for him."

He smiled weakly, "He doesn't deserve you, you know?"

"He's working hard to be a man who does. That means more to me than any title, any history."

He thought of this for a moment, then hesitantly said, "Daenerys intrigues me."

"Oh, I know. Ser Davos and I have each noticed how you look at her. And how sullen you are in her absence."

Jon huffed. "I am not sullen."

"You sort of are. Go on, what do you really think of her?"

"This is neither the time nor the place for it."

"You've been feeling left out. Let me make up for it with a good chat. Go on, you know I'm great at keeping secrets."

He raised a judgmental brow as if to tell her this was not something to be proud of. "You know, Robb and I always used to wonder what you and Sansa were always whispering about. 'Girl talk,' we called it. Is that what this is becoming?"

"Yes. I propose from now on, we have our girl talk at least once a week so that even if we're both busy, we keep each other in-the-know. Tell me, Jon, go on!"

He threw up his hands, as if giving in. "Well, for starters, she was a lot prettier than I thought she'd be." He dodged as she tried to swat at him with her sleeve. "I didn't have any real expectations, I've no idea what Valyrians looked like! I only mean I was surprised. It's a good thing. She was getting on my nerves with her stubbornness, but I suppose it reminded me a bit of... Ygritte. After I lost her, I didn't think I'd ever find another woman who captivated me."

"You've a thing for girls who can kill you, don't you?" said Lyarra. "First Ygritte, now Daenerys."

"It isn't that," he chided. "It's more... they are sure of themselves, they have a charisma many appreciate. After I spoke to Daenerys, I learned a great deal about her. I may have judged her too quickly. She's clever, really. She's curious, she's inspired, she's... truly something. I suppose I wouldn't mind knowing her more through this alliance. I suppose it hasbeen a little strange to feel her influence everywhere without her being here."

"Are you going to explore it further?" she inquired.

"I... I don't know. I barely know her. I don't know how much that can change in the time it'll take to settle all this. Perhaps I'll see what I can manage when she returns."

She grinned. "Good. You deserve to be happy, Jon. There is nothing wrong with wanting this."

"There's a war to come," he said. "I have a kingdom waiting for me. Is it not... selfish?"

"Selfish is hunting and whoring instead of attending to your lands," she replied. "But you are nothing like Robert Baratheon. You're like Father, always putting everyone over yourself. I don't think you could ever be selfish. I believe you could balance both your duty to your people and your duty to yourself. You're smart enough not to settle for less than you're worth, you're humble and patient enough to assess what you do and don't allow into your life because you've learned what has been beneficial and detrimental in the lives of others. There is a war to come... we might all die. Why deny yourself this?"

He snorted lightly. "You've always had a way with words, Lyarra. Whether it was to lie to your mother and Father, to put Bran and Rickon at ease, to indulge Sansa and Arya's curiosities and fantasies, to make Robb and I feel so admired. Without you, I don't think Daenerys would like me very much at all."

"I'm glad to be helpful," she said cheerfully, tapping the books. "Unfortunately, now it's time for me to remind you of what we have to read so we might be of use to everyone." She tapped the stack of books. "I'll see you at supper."

Theon accompanied her during her few reading hours, having offered to take notes from smaller books while she tackled the larger ones. They sat across from each other in the library, on a seat by the window long enough for both of them to sit against the wall with their legs stretched out towards each other.

Ever so often, she tapped her foot against his to see if it would distract him. He'd smile shyly and try to go back to reading only to decide to do it back to her. They didn't get as much done as they hoped.

Upon Daenerys's return, Lyarra saw Jon make himself more present, going to greet her and congratulating her on her victory in the Reach. She watched them walk along the cliffs for a good while (and this time she promised herself to be more focused on her readings), though she couldn't help but giggle in satisfaction each time Jon offered his arm to Daenerys as they passed uneven ground.

A new person had arrived on the same day Daenerys did. Ser Jorah Mormont, her faithful servant (Missandei did not shy away from telling Lyarra that Tyrion once flat-out told Daenerys that Jorah was in love with his Queen), had somehow been cured of greyscale by Samwell Tarly at the Citadel and was back to serve Daenerys.

He seemed very kind (albeit old), but Lyarra could not help but recall the words her father had told her about Ser Jorah, how he'd sold slaves to support his Hightower wife's lavish tastes. She understood his desperation but had never thought it justified supporting such an awful thing. He was lucky he'd been able to escape. She wondered if Daenerys intended to pardon him. She wondered if he could really be trusted.

She was called to a Small Council meeting, surprisingly enough, within a day of Daenerys's ships returning with a boat filled with prisoners– Reach men who had served the Lannisters and refused to bend the knee to Daenerys. Among them were Samwell's father and brother, who oddly enough continued to support Cersei despite it becoming known that she and Jaime Lannister had poisoned their Lady Olenna.

A scroll was given to Jon, sent by Sansa for both him and Lyarra. Her brother read it first before handing it to her, the two of them furrowing their brows in both surprise and concern– this didn't bode as well as they hoped, despite two bright rays of news.

"I thought Arya was dead," muttered Jon in disbelief. "I thought Bran was dead."

"I'm happy for the both of you," said Daenerys with a gentle smile, seeing how Lyarra and Jon shifted uncomfortably where they sat and stood, both wishing they'd been at Winterfell to receive their siblings. "Neither of you look very happy."

"It's not good news," said Lyarra, placing her hand on her forehead. "Bran says... gods, I don't fully understand it, but something about becoming a Three-Eyed Raven able to see what is happening past and present... even some glimpses of the future."

"He saw the Night King and his army marching towards Eastwatch," said Jon, breaking the bad news. "If they make it past the Wall..."

"The Wall has kept them out for thousands of years, presumably," said Lord Varys.

Jon cut in before he could say more, "Lyarra and I need to go home."

Daenerys blinked. "You said you don't have enough men."

"We'll fight with the men we have," said Jon. "Unless you'll join us. I am not sure there is time for me to gather the proof I intended to."

"The proof is important," said Tyrion. "Not only for your men, Your Grace. Perhaps it is not too late. We'd worried Cersei would march in the moment we marched out. She thinks the Army of the Dead is nothing but a story made up by wet nurses to frighten children. If we prove her wrong..."

Lyarra snorted. "And what, we invite her up to Winterfell and hope the proof makes it from Eastwatch? That our men make it from Eastwatch?"

"We'd bring the dead to her," suggested Tyrion. "Bring one of those things down to King's Landing and show her the truth."

Lord Varys pointed out, "Anything you bring back will be useless unless Cersei grants us an audience and is somehow convinced not to murder us the moment we set foot in the capital."

"The only person she listens to is Jaime," reasoned Tyrion. "He might listen to me."

He glanced at Daenerys, who posed, "And how would you get into King's Landing?"

This time, Tyrion faced Ser Davos. "I can smuggle you in," said the man, "but if the gold cloaks were to recognize you, I'm warning you, I'm not a fighter."

"With the Queen's permission," said Ser Jorah, "I'll go North with the King and aid him in procuring the proof." When Daenerys gave him an incredulous look, he said, "You asked me to find a cure so I could serve you. Allow me to serve you."

When Daenerys relented, Jon said, "The Free Folk will help us. They know the real north better than anyone."

"They won't follow Ser Jorah," said Ser Davos.

"They won't have to," replied Jon.

Lyarra stood. "Jon, no. Tormund can lead it if it comes to that. You don't need to go to the Wall ever again– you're King in the North now, not the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch!"

"I'm the only one here who's fought them. I'm the only one here who knows them. This is our best chance to attain the proof, to convince Cersei if that's possible."

Daenerys didn't seem all that comfortable with it, but nodded. "Very well. I'll send a few of my men with Ser Jorah and will prepare the rest of my armies. I'll have them continue to mine dragonglass and prepare their own weapons. Take what you've mined thus far and make weapons for the Northerners in the meantime."

"Thank you, Your Grace," said Jon. "Lyarra, when we dock at White Harbor, you will ride with the shipment and take it to Winterfell. I'll continue onto Eastwatch-by-the-Sea with the men we have and a few weapons of our own. We'll find each other again at Winterfell. I'll send word from Eastwatch if we manage to capture a wight, Your Grace."

"Very well," said Daenerys. She did seem sad to see Jon go. "Then we will meet again in a short time, Your Grace."

Lyarra would have liked to convince Theon to come with her. He could not bring himself to, already trying to muster up the courage to rescue Yara. She'd pledged herself to Daenerys and as such, he had to keep serving her, too, no matter how badly he might have liked to go with Lyarra.

Although Ser Davos had managed to smuggle Tyrion in and out of King's Landing (along with Robert Baratheon's bastard, Gendry, who was a blacksmith), Theon felt that a return there was due. He had to try, he had to. She respected it, even if she worried about him.

"I'll see you again, I know it," she told him as he stood with her at the beach, their ship waiting in the distant sea. "You'll find her and then you can do whatever you'd like. You'll always be welcome at Winterfell."

"I know," he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. "Say hello to Minisa for me. I'll come back to you. To both of you. That is a promise."

"I will be waiting," said Lyarra, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek. She held his hand as he helped her into the small boat, watching sadly as they began to row away, further and further from Theon once more.

She trusted that they'd keep finding one another. They had to. They were bonded now.

The journey back to Winterfell was long and dull. The lot of them spend each day organizing piles of dragonglass, sorting which pieces would be used for spears, which for arrowheads, which for knives, which for swords, and which for other bunches of unique weapons.

After they docked at White Harbor, the trip was lonely. She rode with a few of the Northerners up to Winterfell, which was quiet when they arrived, the early morning sun barely visible through the gloom. She didn't see Brienne anywhere, nor surprisingly Lord Baelish.

"I've missed you, my sweet girl," she told Minisa in hushed tones, plucking her out of her cradle and rocking her against her chest. "Good morrow." She kissed the top of her head. "Now, why don't you show me where I can find Arya and Bran? I was told they are here. I cannot rest from that journey until I've seen them myself."

With Minisa on her hip, she followed the rest of the hallway to Bran's room. He didn't answer after several knocks. The door was unlocked, popped open easily when she turned the knob. He wasn't inside at all– perhaps already at breakfast. Further down came the door of Arya's room, already ajar. She didn't appear to be inside, either.

"Looking for someone?"

She smiled before she even turned around. "I didn't hear you coming," said Lyarra, eyes already welling up with tears. She spun on her heel, face lighting up when she fixed onto Arya's dark eyes, her hair now much shorter and tied back.

"'Arra," said Arya, grinning wide. "It's good to see you again."

Lyarra rushed to her, drawing her into a hug with Minisa whining in the center. "It is so good to see you again, too." She held the back of her head, then pulled back, Minisa swatting at the strands of Arya's hair. "Where have you been all this time? I thought for the longest time– gods, how you've grown!"

"It's a long story," said Arya, patting her shoulder. "And I hear yours is just as long. Your daughter has been babbling bits and pieces. Nothing anyone can understand but she's trying. Come, Bran will be in the godswood."

Minisa did indeed make a great attempt at talking as they walked to the godswood, a wheelchair visible by the great weirwood. Arya had told her the most recent news regarding Brienne and Lord Baelish's absence– Brienne was attending the meeting at King's Landing on Sansa's behalf and was already on her way, while Lord Baelish was now thankfully dead. He'd tried to push Arya and Sansa against one another, but the girls had not let it persist.

"Bran," called Arya, alerting him of their presence. "Lyarra is back."

"I know," he said calmly, craning his head up as they rounded the wheelchair. "I knew she would come."

Lyarra dipped down to hug him. "My sweet boy. Look at you, you're a man now."

He smiled, though it no longer reminded her of little Bran, always so lively. "I am the Three-Eyed Raven now. Not quite a man."

Lyarra beckoned for Arya to sit with her. She lowered Minisa onto her lap, the babe more interested in the mounds of snow on the ground. She took Arya and Bran's hands. "I feared I might not see you both again," she admitted. "So... regardless of who you are now... you will always be my siblings. And I will always be thankful for you and proud of you. I don't know what you had to endure. My heart beats hard in anticipation because I worry what I will learn... how the world has tormented you. Just know that these changes... however you perceive them... do not change the fact you are wonderful people. You are our parents' children and you are important to me."

Arya had been right– they were long stories to exchange. Lyarra knew some of what Bran had gone looking for (and was glad that at least Meera Reed made it back alive with him) but was completely taken aback by what Arya told her. How she'd witnessed their father's death, how she'd had to pretend to be a boy, how she knew Gendry and had been Tywin Lannister's cupbearer during imprisonment at Harrenhal. How she'd become good at killing, learning to be a Faceless Man in Braavos.

It was more direct than what Lyarra knew how to do, but it seemed it held the same roots. Arya had been the one to poison all of House Frey, having heard of a similar thing done to the Boltons. It was how she knew she could come home.

Lyarra cried more than she thought she would. She hated the world for putting each of them through these awful situations. She hated that Robb wasn't with them, that her parents could not see them reunited. She even hated it just a little bit that Bran wasn't really Bran anymore. It was different talking to him.

She wondered if her family would really be alright if they survived this.

The Northern lords were calmed slightly by her return. She explained to them the work Jon had done, crediting him for turning Daenerys to their side even though her siblings knew that she'd been the one to talk her into it. She reported a letter from Jon announcing that a wight had been captured, that he and his team had been rescued by the Dragon Queen (though unfortunately one of her dragons had been lost). They had sailed down to King's Landing to meet with Cersei, and hoped to convince her to join her army to theirs.

She'd pressed on them the same things she'd said to Daenerys. They needed one another– there was no reality where they weren't benefitted by this alliance with the Queen. She'd assured them there was no bending of the knee that would be happening anytime soon. Daenerys understood the North wanted to be free and currently, the real fight was against the Night King– not for the Seven Kingdoms. He was too close to the Wall already and it wouldn't be long before he came. They had only a few months left, if any.

She delegated tasks quickly, with Sansa's help. With Brienne and Tormund gone, she assigned Arya and Osha to lead sparring groups to continue the training. She gathered blacksmiths from each House to begin work on the weapons, designing everything and accounting for the weight and build of dragonglass prior to crafting.

Lyarra continued with her reading and shooting whenever she wasn't walking around with Minisa, who toddled around well-enough and was improving her speech. Whenever she couldn't watch her, one of her siblings was happy to have her nearby. Arya insisted Minisa would be as good with a sword as her within a few years. Bran didn't have much to say other than Minisa was very calm and seemed to try imitating his meditation. Sansa adored how Minisa tried to give input in conversations. Rickon just liked that Minisa would giggle at the silly things he and Ned did.

Just before Jon's return, Samwell Tarly arrived from the Citadel with his wildling girlfriend, Gilly, and her son Sam. He and Bran had gone off to whisper about something or another after they received a raven confirming that Daenerys's armies would be joining them in Winterfell soon.

Apparently, even Cersei had promised to march her armies north to fight in the Great War, though she expected them to remember that when it came time for the fight for the Iron Throne. Sansa, Arya, and Lyarra had given each other the most significant three-way glare that Rickon had loudly interpreted as a belief that Cersei might be 'full of shit' and even if she wasn't, she was behaving like a brat.

What worried Lyarra most was the lack of news from Dragonstone. There came no letter from Theon. No confirmation if he'd be coming with Daenerys's armies or not. She didn't know if he'd rescued Yara– if that would even be possible at this point.

Her siblings didn't fully understand her feelings for him. Walda was the one she spoke to the most about it, always one for conversation and a big believer in love. She still firmly believed her son, Merrett, would be a very doting husband to Minisa once it came time to truly rebuild House Bolton. Lyarra appreciated her optimism even if she herself wasn't thinking that far ahead– or at all, really, about House Bolton.

She worried for Theon. She thought of Theon constantly. She could never be sure if what she felt was love (how could one measure that, how could one understand that?), but she knew that whether she lived or died, she intended to see Theon at least once more.

Lyarra shivered to think that that wretched day of reckoning was coming all too soon.

-

A/N: Happy 200 pages! I will be traveling very soon and I am not sure if I will finish this fic before I go. If I don't, I may not update for quite awhile (not sure how that will work yet) and if I do, I may take a writing break prior to publishing my next fic. I'm way more excited about the next one... I think too many things got in the way of my flow writing this one and I keep having sooo much writer's block. It's not exciting me as much as fics usually do. Anyway, nothing too too certain yet so if you're reading this fic and intend to read my next one, just keep a lookout for announcements :)