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JON SNOW WORRIED ABOUT A LOT OF THINGS. He worried about the white walkers and wights. He worried about what would become of the wildlings, especially now that Mance was dead. He worried about whether anyone would be able to work together long enough to get rid of the threat beyond the Wall. He worried about Sansa and Arya, Bran and Rickon― he wasn't even sure if they were all alive anymore. He worried about the Night's Watch, even more so now that they had voted him to be Lord Commander. He worried about a lot of things.
But lately, he was mostly worried about his twin.
Lyanna wasn't doing well. Not mentally. Sure, she functioned around people and kept her head on straight when she needed to. She always had a smile for him and supported him through everything. On the outside, Lyanna seemed perfectly fine. But Jon knew his sister. She never liked anyone to see her upset, she thought of it as showing weakness, and she thought it was her duty to be strong for everyone else. And so she puts up a front, acts as if nothing phases her and she's completely okay― but Jon knew better.
She was suffocating.
All she did anymore was keep herself busy. If Lyanna wasn't sneaking food to the room where the few wildlings were being kept, then she was sparring in the courtyard with Edd or Ollie. If she wasn't doing that, then she was with Jon and Sam. And at night, Lyanna would go outside, let Nova and Ghost out of their stalls and roam around with the two direwolves. She was hardly sleeping, and Jon knew it because he had woken up on more than one occasion and caught a glimpse of his sister out of his window.
He knew why she was afraid to sleep most nights. She was afraid the greensight would show her a vision, and she was afraid of what it would be. After what people were now calling the Red Wedding, Lyanna was different. Of course, Jon had expected her to be; she had fought in a war, survived many battles and became the soldier he'd always known she could be. But the Red Wedding changed her. Seeing Robb and even Catelyn slain right in front of her, and not being able to save them― it took a toll on her. Maybe she blamed herself for their deaths, for not being able to help them, for not having a vision that could have prevented it; maybe she blamed herself for being the one that survived instead of Robb. Maybe it was a mixture of all the aforementioned things.
Jon wouldn't know, because Lyanna wouldn't talk about it. He had attempted to ask her more about that night, about how it had happened, about how she had gotten away― something other than the very little that he already knew. "Talking about it might help," he had said to her. Because while Jon did want to know the events of what happened that night, he wanted even more so for his sister to heal.
Lyanna wasn't having it. She deflected his questions every time he brought it up, usually finding a reason to leave his presence and come up with something else to do that would keep her busy. It worried Jon, because he knew she was over-working herself. Lyanna wasn't coping with what happened― she was avoiding it altogether.
"Lord Ashford." Sam placed a letter in front of Jon, who signed it without even giving it a second thought. "Lady Caulfield." He placed another one down. "Lord Smallwood."
Huffing, Jon shook his head to rid him of his thoughts as he scribbled his signature across the parchment for the umpteenth time. "I've never even heard of these people."
"They haven't heard of you, either," Sam pointed out. "But we need men, and they have some." He set another letter down and prepared to grab another one.
"How many men does this Lord Mayzen have to send for us?" Jon asked, but he signed the letters placed in front of him anyway. He knew Sam had a point. They wouldn't stand a chance against the white walkers and wights, or even the wildlings if they orchestrated another attack― not if they didn't have more men.
"More than Lord Wibberley." Sam watched him sign that letter, hesitating before he set the next one down in front of Jon. Part of him wished that Jon would just sign it without even noticing who it was addressed to, but Sam knew better than that. Jon was observant.
The moment his friend's entire body stiffened, Sam knew he had seen the name at the top of the parchment. "Not him," he said lowly, pulling his quill away.
"I know. I'm sorry," Sam apologized. "But we need men and supplies... and Roose Bolton's the Warden of the North."
"He murdered my brother, and he tried to murder my sister," Jon said through clenched teeth.
"We swore to be the Watchers on the Wall. We can't watch the Wall with fifty men. And we can't get more men without help from the Warden of the North."
Jon's knuckles turned white from how tightly he gripped his quill as he scrawled his signature onto the parchment with clenched teeth. "If any Boltons take the Black and they so much as even look at my sister, I swear to all the Gods that I will kill them," he told his friend, thinking back to how bloody and battered Lyanna was when Nova carried her into the courtyard of Castle Black all those months ago.
"I know that, and I wouldn't expect anything less," Sam said honestly. He hesitated, and then mustered up a small smile to try and soften the mood. "But for what it's worth, I'm sure that Lyanna would have no trouble killing them herself." He gestured outside of the window, where they could see Lyanna down in the courtyard sparring with Edd. "She's a fighter just as much as you are, Jon."
And Jon knew that. Really, he did. But Lyanna would always be his twin sister, his best friend. She would always be the little girl who used to laugh at him when Robb and Theon pulled pranks on him― but no matter how much she laughed at him for it, Lyanna was always the one who would help Jon get back at the boys in return. She would always be the little girl who would come up with random games for the two of them to play any time Catelyn left them out of her dinner parties, mostly just because she knew how upset Jon got and wanted to cheer him up. She would always be the little girl who would sneak to Jon's room and wake him up after having nightmares― which they later found out were visions― so that he could sit with her in silence, because she found comfort in her brother's company, and comfort in the fact that she wasn't alone.
Jon and Lyanna had grown up and they were both adults now, but to him, Lyanna would always be the little girl he grew up with. And even if she was more than capable of defending herself, Jon would always make it a point to look out for her.
No matter what.
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LYANNA DIDN'T KNOW THAT JON FREED THE CAPTURED WILDLINGS until Kane sought her out the moment he was able to. The brunette had been gone all day and had just returned from taking Nova and Ghost outside of Castle Black's grounds so that they could hunt. When she caught sight of the boy running up to her, it completely took her off-guard. "Kane, what are you doing?" She asked with wide eyes, looking around to see if any of the Night's Watch members had noticed the boy. "If they see that you escaped―"
"I didn't escape, your brother set us free," Kane cut her off happily. He eyed the two direwolves flanking each side of the young woman. One had jet-black fur and strange lilac-colored eyes, and the other's fur was white as snow, although his eyes were an unsettling shade of red. "So these are the wolves Tormund talks about."
She nodded absent-mindedly, her eyebrows furrowed together as she focused on his first statement. "My brother set you free?"
"Yeah, he made an agreement with Tormund," the younger boy answered. "Tomorrow he's going to travel with us to Hardhome to gather the rest of our people, and then he's going to let us past the Wall. We just have to agree to help all of you fight the army of the dead when they come." Kane paused, and then asked, "He didn't tell you?" Lyanna shook her head. "I wonder why."
"So do I." Lyanna quickly put Nova and Ghost back in their stalls and walked away in search of her twin. Kane trailed behind her as she headed into the courtyard, storming past several men on her way into the castle. Within just over a minute they had reached the door that led to the Lord Commander's office, and Lyanna slammed the door open and barged inside without even knocking. Kane followed behind her, his eyes darting toward Tormund, who gazed at the fierce brunette glaring at Jon. "Were you planning to tell me that you're sailing to Hardhome, or did you hope I would find out after you had left?"
Jon sighed deeply. "Lyanna, can we talk about this later?"
"No, we're talking about this now," she demanded. "If you're going to Hardhome and bringing back the wildlings, that's fine. But I'm going with you."
Instantly, Jon shook his head. "Absolutely not."
She scoffed. "When have I ever let you tell me to do something I don't want to do?" Lyanna crossed her arms stubbornly. "You're not leaving me here with idiotic men like Lyle, or rapists like Motley, or power-hungry cocksuckers like Thorne."
"I had planned on asking Edd to stay behind with you."
"You're joking, right?" Lyanna's eyebrows rose. "Jon, you know as well as I do that Edd and I are the most loyal fighters you have!" Sam was as loyal as they came, but he wasn't quite a fighter, and they all knew it. "And you're telling me that you want us to stay behind while you sail to Hardhome, where the wildlings could very well attack you on sight?"
Jon clasped his hands together, exasperated with his sister. "Lyanna, it's in your best interest if you remain here at Castle Black―"
"Don't you tell me what's in my best interest!" Lyanna cut him off angrily. Kane shuffled over to stand next to the chair Tormund sat in as the two of them watched the quarreling siblings. Kane felt awkward to be in the room while they argued, but Tormund found great pleasure and amusement in being able to watch Jon Snow's sister practically jump down his throat. "I am a grown woman and I can decide for myself what's in my best interest, Jon. I didn't let you travel out to Craster's Keep and fight the mutineers without me, and I'm not going to let you sail to Hardhome without me either! I can fight just as well as any of your men―"
"Can you, though?" Jon interrupted her bluntly. His question caught Lyanna off-guard, and he watched the offense flood over her features. Before she could curse at him, he quickly continued, "You have hardly rested at all since the Red Wedding, Lyanna. You over-work yourself, you don't sleep enough, and you won't talk about hardly anything that's happened to you since I left Winterfell to take the Black. You are exhausting yourself, and I refuse to risk your life in Hardhome just because you're too stubborn to stay behind!"
Tormund's eyes drifted from Lyanna, to Jon, and then back to the woman as she digested the words her brother was saying. He watched as something in her dark blue eyes softened before hardening again. In that brief moment, he saw something vulnerable in Lyanna Snow; something she instantly pushed to the back of her mind. "My life is mine to risk however I choose," she said to Jon strongly. "I'm sailing to Hardhome with you tomorrow, whether you like it or not." Lyanna turned to leave, but paused and whirled back around, slamming her hands down upon her brother's desk. "And don't you ever throw my past in my face again, or presume that I am weak because of what I have been through. If I was weak, I wouldn't be standing here today."
Her brother's expression softened. "Lyanna, that's not what I meant―"
"It doesn't matter what you meant. I'll see you tomorrow morning." Before Jon had the chance to respond, Lyanna turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
"She's amazing," Tormund said, utterly in awe of the stubborn woman who had told Jon off without backing down. He rose his eyebrows at Jon when the dark-haired man shot him a look. "What?" He asked, shrugging. "It isn't every day you come by strong, pretty women who know what they want and aren't afraid to fight for it."
Kane snickered. "Tormund is sweet on your sister, Jon― ow!" His words cut off when Tormund suddenly whacked him in the stomach, taking his breath away.
Jon couldn't help but chuckle himself, seeing the look on Tormund's face. He had never seen the large man flustered before, so clearly Kane must have been right. "Good luck with that, Tormund," he said simply.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"My sister has these walls built around her heart, and she hardly ever lets anyone in." Before Tormund could ask anything further, he sat back in his chair and moved onto the more pressing matters at hand. "We'll sail for Hardhome after dawn. Stannis left us plenty of ships to use. I'll take some of my men with me."
"Who's going to be in charge of the Night's Watch while you're gone?" Kane asked curiously. He tried not to feel small when both men turned to look at him. Truly, he didn't have any place in discussing tomorrow's plans― that fell upon Tormund and Jon, the leaders of the wildlings and the Night's Watch. "I only ask because, well, you're traveling with us. And Lyanna is, too, apparently. Who's going to be here to raise the gate when we return?"
Tormund nodded. "The boy has a point," he admitted, turning back to look at Jon.
"Well if Lyanna is joining the expedition to Hardhome, Edd will insist on joining too. So I won't be able to leave him in charge." He frowned as he thought to himself for a moment. "I'll have to leave Thorne in charge while I'm away. He is First Ranger, after all."
"Thorne?" Kane's nose scrunched up in disgust at the mention of the bitter old man. "Do you trust him to open the gate for us?"
"No, but Sam will be here. And Maester Aemon. I trust them." He stood from his chair and walked over to open the door, drawing the conversation to a close. "You should get some rest before the journey."
Kane nodded and left the room, but retraced his steps after a moment when he didn't hear his leader following after him. Tormund was still sitting in his chair, his eyebrows furrowed together, and Kane and Jon both looked at him in confusion. "Wait a second. Who is Edd?"
"What?"
"Who is Edd?" Tormund repeated, his gaze narrowing. "You said since Lyanna is going to Hardhome, Edd will insist on going too. I need to know my competition, Jon Snow." Jon sighed and shook his head, while Kane grinned in amusement. "What?" He demanded, standing to his feet and following the two of them out of the room.
"As I said: good luck," Jon told the ginger with a smirk, clasping his shoulder briefly before walking away.