Zokla | Theon Greyjoy

Chapter 14

Every last Northern lord and lady was present.

She walked through the crowds, greeting them all and introducing herself to those she did not recognize. Refreshments were passed around– little Ned and Rickon nearly knocked down a servant when gathering the Northern children who had to come along so they might play elsewhere while the adults met.

"I must know if I should say what I wish to say," said Lyarra, pulling Jon aside before they began. "I wish to vouch for you to become our Warden, our King. The one we follow. However, I understand that it would be cruel of me to place this burden on you if you truly do not want it."

"Do you really believe in me so much, Lyarra?" he whispered. "You are the one who brought us back here. They know this. A battle was avoided because of your deeds."

"And I can assure them all I did it for my daughter. Not for power. I don't want this, Jon, I never wanted this. If there is anything I believe in... it is you. You being the future of our house. I don't mean it to sound as though I am placing this burden on you, I simply..." She shook her head. "It isn't what I was made to handle. It isn't what I want in life. I would prefer to support you. You, who is better equipped for this sort of thing. You, who has a reputation and can lead men into battle."

He looked around, then finally seemed to make his decision. "Very well, Lyarra. I suppose if you believe in me and if you promise–" He put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a pointed look, "promise to help me, then I will say yes."

She grinned. "Of course I will. Sansa and I will gladly act as your counsel." She kissed his cheek. "I know this is the right thing. I trust my intuition."

They seated themselves at the high table, Lyarra and Jon splitting the center with Rickon and Sansa on either side of them. It took several minutes for all to be seated accordingly, to account for those who had come from the North and still make room for the Lords of the Vale who accompanied Sansa here to listen to what the North would decide. All of them collectively sat further away from the wildling leader, Tormund Giantsbane, and the men he'd brought with him.

Lyarra began by explaining to them the events that had transpired, most of which they knew, and a few of which had not been revealed until now. She spoke of the Ironborn, of Theon Greyjoy's atonement, of the Bolton defeat. She'd beckoned for Jon to speak of his time at Castle Black, of his work bringing the wildlings into the Gift and making them new members of the Northern coalition. Together, they explained the threat that came beyond-the-Wall, and what it was they would really need to be fighting for.

"And so we arrive at one of the more important aspects of why we've called you all here," said Lyarra, eyes carefully drifting over every major face that she recognized. "We must decide who will be Warden of the North among us. I, for one," she faced her brother, "believe that the right person for this task is Jon. He sought to understand the wildlings and brought peace. He faced the threats beyond-the-Wall, he knows of the enemy we must face and most importantly he is my father's eldest living child. He spent the most time with Lord Eddard Stark, learning from him, appreciating him the way you all did. And on top of this, Jon has shown he is capable of leadership. I say that he be the face of our new, united North."

"United?" said Lord Royce, bewildered. "But you cannot expect the Knights of the Vale to side with wildling invaders!"

"We didn't invade," countered Tormund Giantsbane. "We were invited, as she's said."

"Not by me!"

Jon stood beside Lyarra. "The Free Folk, the Northerners, and the Knights of the Vale all sit here, together, in my father's hall. He used to say we find our true friends on the battlefield. We ought to think ahead–"