"When you asked me to supper I thought you meant just the two of us," Willas hissed to Margaery as soon as he entered the grand feasting tent, twice the size of any tent hosted in Robb's camp.

Margaery did not answer him, instead offering him a smile as she squeezed his arm supportively, making sure to lead him into the tent as if afraid he would turn and walk straight out. Part of him considered it when he saw his father, already sat down at the dinner table talking to Renly. Margaery must have felt him tense at the sight of his father, as she clutched his arm tighter. That didn't stop him clenching his jaw as he took a few deep breaths, trying not to remember just how badly his last meeting with his father had gone.

Loras was also there, sat next to their father, though he was not looking at either of the men, not even Renly for once. He was looking to his eldest brother, noticing the tell tale signs that all was not well between the Lord of Highgarden and his heir, having been present for plenty of past disagreements that made spotting them easy. Willas didn't say anything, he didn't even properly look at his brother out of pure habit, knowing he usually ended up siding with their father no matter what the case was. Yet, in not looking at Loras, Willas instead noticed the other man sat at the table. The stranger was barely a man as he looked to be a similar age of his wife's sister Sansa, baring a striking resemblance to the late King, had Robert not succumbed to alcohol and large portions.

Willas didn't get long to look at the stranger as he felt Margaery tug at his arm once more, and when he turned to his sister, he saw her looking at him the way she had done as a child when she wanted to borrow his horse, of if he had caught her in the wine cellars, or if she wanted him to keep a secret for her from their parents. Margaery might've been the only girl in the Tyrell family, but she knew how to wrap her brothers around her little finger. Even if Willas knew what she was doing, it didn't get rid of the inevitable devotion he felt for her.

"I know you argued with father earlier, but please," she spoke softly, making sure that the table wouldn't hear. "Please try and get on tonight."

"Margie, when have you ever known me to be the problem?" he laughed, rolling his eyes.

"Plenty of times, shall I list them?" Margaery raised her eyebrow, offering him the signature Tyrell smirk. Willas sighed, and she prodded his arm.

"If you had heard the things he'd said, the insults he threw at my wife, you would not be saying that," Willas told her, his voice a hissed whisper.

"I'm sure I can imagine them," Margaery said, her smile sad for a moment as she looked at him with sympathy before she regained herself. "I didn't intend on this, I did just want supper to be the two of us, but His Grace thought it would be a good opportunity for us to all meet, build some bridges? We are all family, after all."

If even Renly knew that some sort of argument had occurred in the short space of time since Willas' arrival to camp, Willas couldn't help but feel a little humiliated. He'd travelled there to build bridges himself, to help build an alliance that could help Eddmina and Robb, yet so far he had done nothing but cause unrest. He knew it wasn't entirely his fault, but he also knew it was making things difficult for his sister, so as much as he didn't want to, he offered her a smile, and let her lead him to the table, ignoring her pleased smirk.

"Evening, all," he said, feeling them all staring at him. He bowed his head respectfully to Renly, before offering his father a nod. Lord Tyrell looked surprised to have been acknowledged at all.

"You sounded frightfully northern then," Renly laughed, and Willas couldn't help but feel amused, especially when he saw his father grimace. "Perhaps it has rubbed off on you, all those months up there."

"I've never been North," the stranger spoke quickly, as if he knew otherwise no one would let him. Willas looked at him, surprised, but saw the young lad's eyes lit up in curiosity. "What's it like?"

"It's beautiful," Willas told him honestly with a shrug. "A little cold, but that hardly matters, and the people can be harsh, but they are wonderful if you give them a chance. I'm sorry, I don't think we've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"Lord Willas, this is Edric Storm," Renly said, and the lad smiled again, glancing between the King and the Tyrells, as if he was still surprised to be at the dinner. "He's my ward and, well, there's far too much family resemblance to deny him being my nephew."

Willas raised his eyebrow as he thought of how King Robert had acted in Winterfell. It was hard to have missed him during the various feasts, as he got progressively more drunk throughout the nights and always had at least three women with him. The Starks, ever the dutiful hosts, had not commented on his poor behaviour, but it had led Willas to the conclusion that the King surely had more children, children who clearly looked a great deal like him, even more so than his legitimate offspring.

It was then that Willas thought of something Renly had said while back in Winterfell. He'd spoken of rumours surrounding the King's children, and how both Lord Arryn and Lord Stannis had been looking into whispers. He'd implied Eddmina's father had begun chasing the rumours too, and Willas took one look at Edric Storm and understood exactly what they had been investigating. He didn't know the exact details, frustrating him a little as he liked to know every possible fact when it came to learning something, but he knew enough, and he knew that sat before him was a greater claimant to the Iron Throne than Joffrey, greater than even Renly.

"When I take the Iron Throne, I will legitimise Edric and he will rule over Storm's End," Renly said, catching Willas' knowing look and understanding exactly where his thoughts had gone.

"Thank you, your grace," Edric said quietly, as if he'd said it a thousand times before.

"And when you take the Iron Throne, what will the rest of Westeros look like?" Willas asked, leaning over the table so that he could study Renly's expression better, feeling the stares of his father and brother. When Renly frowned, Willas cracked a small smile. "Alright, I will make it easier. When you take the throne, what will happen to the Lannisters? You've promised Lady Stark Joffrey's head, but the others, what will you have done to them? What will you do to your other nephew and your niece, and their mother?"

"Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella are no kin of mine," Renly didn't hesitate, his voice firm before he looked at Willas with concerned surprise. "Did you not receive that missive from my brother? Perhaps it reached the Starks after you left their camp."

"What missive?" Willas previous amusement died as his face fell into a frown. His brother laughed, which infuriated him. "What?"

"For once you're not the cleverest in the room," Loras pointed out, smiling as if he had just bested him in a duel. Renly shot him a look, as if telling him to be serious, while their father seemed to enjoy the display of brotherly rivalry. "What? It doesn't happen very often, let me enjoy it."

It was his father who presented Willas with a small slip of paper baring the wax seal of Stannis Baratheon. Willas took it, read it quickly, then read it again at least twice. He clenched his jaw as he took a deep breath, his mind racing with new realisations and none of them good. Pieces of a puzzle began to fit together, mysteries and memories making more sense than ever before, yet none of them were good. His thoughts settled on one conclusion, and it was that which made him rise from his seat and pace to the tent opening, feeling fury course through him.

"Where are you going?" his father called.

"To find Lady Catelyn," he snapped, spinning back around to look at the table. "If this is true, then her son was almost killed over this, and my wife... When that killer was sent after my wife it was in the hopes that it would stop this information coming out."

Willas remembered the day he arrived back to Winterfell after the trip to Castle Black. He'd been so excited to see Eddmina having missed her so much, only for Theon Greyjoy to tell him that he'd almost missed her completely. A man had broken into the keep and held a knife to his wife's throat, he'd hurt her and threatened their son before he was even born, and the moment Willas saw her again was the first time he'd ever felt the burning desire for revenge, wanting nothing more than to make the man who'd hurt her suffer, even if he was already dead. They'd known the incident was tied to Bran's fall, yet there had been no answers, no closure. He knew his wife had struggled to get over it, but she'd faced it with as much bravery as she did everything, and they moved on. They barely thought of it, even if it was one of the moments that had led them to the war. Yet, reading Stannis' letter... Willas felt the burn of revenge once more. He suddenly understood how his wife had felt when she had demanded to go and kill Jaime Lannister, and he wished that he had not stopped her.

'No,' he thought bitterly. 'I should have helped her.'

"Willas, sit down," Margaery called, offering him a sad smile. "Lady Stark need not be disturbed with this, at least not until the morning, we can discuss it with her then."

"Margaery- Apologies, your grace, my wife was almost killed to protect that secret," Willas argued, though he stormed back to his seat anyway. If his bad leg hadn't twinged, he would've stayed standing, but instead sat back down, trying to not show the pain of the ache.

"Your wife is a thousand miles away and likely about to receive the exact same letter," Renly pointed out.

"Did Lord Eddard know?" Willas asked without hesitation, locking narrowed eyes with Renly. Renly swallowed slowly, then nodded. "So Ned Stark knew that Cersei Lannister's children are all incestuous bastards, and that is why he is dead?"

"He's dead because he was a fool who told Cersei that he knew!" Loras cut in defensively, noticing how his brother was looking at the King. "If he hadn't have let some idiotic code of honour get in the way, none of us would even be here now."

"Don't call him a fool," Willas shot coldly, glaring at his brother.

He only said it because he knew it was what Eddmina would want him to say. Eddmina would defend her father regardless, whereas Willas couldn't help but feel like his wife's father had made he wrong choice. Had Lord Stark kept the information to himself, he might've been able to approach the matter of succession easier. Yet, he had let honour get in the way, and had lost his head. He'd not just gotten himself killed, but he had turned his daughters into prisoners, his wife into a widow, his son into a King, his eldest daughter into a commander, all while his youngest sons were left running a castle that most men thrice their age wouldn't even be able to manage. If he had not let honour cloud his vision, perhaps Willas would've been able to go home to Highgarden, introduce his son to the Reach, and he and his wife would be able to get on with their lives. Perhaps they would be happy, perhaps he wouldn't have to listen to his wife suffer nightmares every night and never mention them to save her pride, or he wouldn't have to see men everyday preparing to sacrifice their lives for a war that could've been so easily avoided. Everything would be so different, if Ned Stark hadn't been so damned honourable.

Willas wouldn't allow those thoughts to have any sort of worth though, no matter how easy they were to get lost in. He would not let his goodfather's memory be disgraced like that. Ned Stark was a good man, a kind man, a man who loved his family and his friends, and he would not allow hindsight to sway him, no matter how good the alternative of their reality seemed.

"Seven hells," Willas sighed, allowing his anger to die down as exhaustion set in. It was not just the physical exhaustion of the travelling catching up to him, but the mental fatigue too, his mind tired of planning and plotting and facing up to what their life had become. He ran his hands through his hair, but he couldn't help the smile that threatened to escape his seriousness. "Eddmina wanted to kill Jaime Lannister when her father died. When she finds out about this, that it was him to push Bran out of that tower... I'd say it'd take the whole northern army to hold her back from him but I think they would merely encourage her."

"The Kingslayer is one of the greatest warriors of our time, I doubt Eddmina Stark would be much of a match for him," Lord Tyrell commented with a laugh, but no one joined him.

"You'd be surprised what my wife is capable of," Willas said, shooting his father a look.

"Give her a bow and Eddmina can do anything," Margaery said, taking her brother's side much to their father's annoyance. She turned to her husband, taking hold of his hand with a flirting smile, despite everyone around the table knowing her skills were wasted and were nothing but an act. "See, the Starks share your dislike of the Lannisters, they know just as much as we do that they are undeserving of the throne that you should be sitting upon. An alliance would be a good thing."

Renly looked at Margaery, and though there was no real love between them, Willas saw nothing but friendship and trust. Even if their marriage was a sham, they clearly had some form of mutual respect, which was more than a lot of couples had. Margaery was on Renly's side, though whether that was because she believed in him being king or simply wanted to be queen, Willas wasn't sure. Either way, it was a pairing of great conveinience, an for once Willas understood that their marriage was not as terrible as he initially thought.

"The Starks and the Baratheons are old friends," Edric spoke up, surprising everyone even himself. He looked at Renly, as if seeking permission to continue. Renly nodded. "I simply mean, my father, and the King in the North's father, they were great friends who changed the Kingdoms. Why can't that continue?"

"Why indeed?" Willas grinned, looking between his father and Renly.

"Because the Starks and your wife-" Lord Tyrell began, sounding exhaustedly infuriated.

"Not right now, thank you, father," Margaery interrupted with a sweet smile, for once not sounding like their grandmother but their mother.

That was when food was served, and there was no more talk of politics.

***

The letter arrived in the early evening carried by a messenger, and within the hour the King in the North had called upon his sister for the two of them to pay a visit to their prisoner of honour.

"You're not to do or say anything rash," Robb told her quietly as they walked through camp, attended to by their direwolves and a handful of guards.

"Tell me when I have ever done anything rash?" Eddmina scowled at him. "Tell me when I have ever done anything that was not asked or expected of me, and when I've ever acted outside of honour or duty?"

"Never, but there's always time for a first time," Robb said, and though it was a joke he did not smile.

After reading the letter from Stannis Baratheon, Eddmina thought her brother would be incapable of smiling ever again. She felt the same the moment he had shown it to her, and she hadn't hesitated in leaving Uther with Garlan - who was still resting his injury - and going with her brother to confront the man the letter was about. She'd kissed Uther's head twice more than usual when she left him, knowing how lucky she was to have him, how lucky she was to even be alive, since the two of them very nearly met their end thanks to the Lannisters. She'd almost managed to put the attack behind her, having more important thinks to focus on, but receiving the letter while holding the child that was nearly killed with her gave her a fresh perspective on the situation, and Eddmina was relieved that she was at last being trusted to visit their Lannister prisoner.

The guards manning the makeshift prison of their camp bowed their heads when they saw Robb, permitting him entry, though when they saw her they looked amongst each other nervously before looking to their king. Robb nodded to them, and they moved aside to let Eddmina through too. She bit back her irritation, refusing to acknowledge how belittled she felt. She had only threatened violence against Jaime Lannister once, in the confidence of her own tent, yet she was being treated as if she was an irrational, murderous maniac. Robb noticed the way she tried to force away a grimace, and elbowed her in the side.

"It's not personal, Edd," he told her quietly. "Lord Rickard has made so many drunken threats I've told the guards to refuse entry to anyone except me."

"Even me?" she raised her eyebrows. "Robb, I'm your Hand, you're meant to trust me."

"I do," he said quickly, taking hold of his sister's arm. "Just not with him. I don't trust trust him with anyone."

Eddmina understood, and she knew not to be hurt. Jaime Lannister was too valuable to risk any harm coming to him. She wondered if that was how the Lannister's viewed the prisoners that they held, if her little sisters were confined to a single room in the Red Keep, with no visitors allowed. Somehow, she knew that wasn't the case. Perhaps it was the nightmares she kept having of Sansa being tormented and tortured by the King that told her that her sister's treatment was vastly different to how the Stark's treated their own prisoners, though Eddmina tried not to dwell on it. At that point, the sun was starting to set, and she knew she'd be trying to get to sleep soon; she could think of Sansa then, when her mind was giving her the usual dreams.

Jaime Lannister had been kept in a cage made from wood, chained around a tree. It didn't look particularly comfortable, and the smell hit her like a punch in the face, though the pleasure of seeing a man like him in such a state was enough to stop her from gagging. She'd only spoken to him once before, in Winterfell before Willas had gone to the Wall with Tyrion Lannister, and one conversation was enough to know she did not like him. He was arrogant, obnoxious, he'd attacked her father's men and killed Jory, he'd killed Eddard and Torrhen Karstark, not to mention what Stannis' letter said... A man like him, he deserved his enclosure.

Even so, Eddmina knew not to take pleasure from it, and she knew not to smile. If she let herself get any sort of amusement from his condition, she was no better than him, and so she let her face fall into a blank, serious expression. She didn't need to show any sort of emotion, not as Honour grumbled at her side, butting her head into Eddmina's waist as if asking for permission to get closer to the Kingslayer. Greywind was taking just as much interest, though his eyes never left Jaime as his lips pulled from his snarling teeth.

"The King in the North!" Jaime cheered sarcastically, his spirit unbroken despite his state. "And the Princess too, what an honour. I must say, Lady Eddmina, you truly are the loveliest thing I have seen in a while, though I've seen nothing but ugly, old, bearded men, so there isn't much to compare you to."

"You honour me, ser," she bowed her head in bitter, mocking courtesy. She rested her hand on Honour's head, fighting the smirk that grew when she saw the Lannister looking at the wolf warily. "Though I would think I am not blonde enough for your taste."

"I offered my services to your mother but perhaps you would be more interested," Jaime continued to push, looking her up at down. Eddmina kept her face still, despite feeling her skin itch. "I'm out of practice but it might be nice for you to have a whole man for once. I suppose your husband must struggle in his duties to you, is that why you've sent him away?"

"You're generous in your offer, Kingslayer, but I would rather throw myself out of Winterfell's broken tower," she said flatly, ignoring the insults to Willas despite the burning of anger, before narrowing her eyes in interrogation. "Sound familiar?"

"I keep thinking that I'll be left behind at some keep with your bannermen to watch me for safe keeping but you've been dragging me along from camp to camp," Jaime chose to ignore her as he instead looked at her brother. "Have you become fond of me, boy?"

"If I left you with one of my bannermen, how long do you think it would be before they received a raven from your father?" Robb spoke calmly, not even rising to his taunts. Eddmina scratched behind Honour's ears, though the wolf hardly noticed the affection, keeping her yellow eyes fixed on the prisoner. "'Release my son and you'll be rich, refuse and I'll destroy your house root and stem'."

"Don't you trust the loyalty of the men following you into battle?" Jaime asked, surprised yet still taunting.

"I trust them with my life, just not yours," Robb smiled dryly.

"Smart boy," Jaime nodded, though smiled when he saw the glare that fell onto both Starks' faces. "What, don't like being called 'boy'? Are you insulted? Are you going to have your sister scold me?"

Eddmina didn't have chance to scold him, not as the wolves took their cue and began edging closer to him. Grey Wind was snarling lowly as he padded a slow circle around the Lannister, who was desperately tying to look as though he was unbothered, though Eddmina was yet to meet someone who didn't look at least a little wary around the wolves when they growled. While her brother went behind, Honour took the front, getting up into Jaime's face. She was not snarling, nor was she even barring her teeth, but she sniffed him up and down, her nose practically pushed to his face. Eddmina watched Jaime's face, noting how he shut his eyes to hide from the wolves.

"Call me a boy and you insult yourself," Robb said slowly, and Grey Wind began to sniff the back of Jaime's neck. "You've been defeated by a boy, you've been imprisoned by a boy, and perhaps you'll be killed by a boy."

Honour barred her teeth then, and so did Greywind. For a split second, Eddmina saw Jaime flinch, though she didn't find any pleasure in it. Instead she whistled, and the wolves came back to their master's sides, Greywind more reluctant than Honour.

"We've received a raven from Stannis Baratheon, as have the rest of the high lords of Westeros," Eddmina said, though he wasn't looking at her or Robb, his eyes still fixed on the wolves.

"It seems that King Joffrey Baratheon is neither a true king, nor a true Baratheon," Robb reported, sounding disgusted. "He's your bastard son."

"If that's true then isn't that convenient for Stannis?" Jaime pointed out, rediscovering his courage with a patronising look.

"Our father knew the truth, that's why you had him executed," Robb concluded, trying to hide the pained anger at the mention of Lord Stark.

Eddmina felt her face fall into a scowl at the thought of her father's death. Out of reflex, she placed her hand onto the hilt of the dagger at her waist, and for a split second she thought of drawing it, but she didn't need to. One look to Jaime and she could tell he'd seen her touch her weapon, and that combined with the fact her other hand rested on the neck of her direwolf was enough for him to take her seriously. She didn't know why, considering one thought of her father had her chest tightening and her head spinning. It occasionally hit her that she was never going to see him again, that he was never going to smile at her and hug her, and he was never going to see Uther, and in moments like that, she found it hard to remember her vow of no tears.

It was hard, but not impossible, and for her father's sake she remained stoic.

"I was your prisoner when Ned Stark lost his head," Jaime argued lightly, though there was slight panic in his voice, as if trying to convince them of his innocence.

"He didn't lose it, a head isn't something you can misplace," Eddmina snapped, fury burning at his carelessness.

"Your son killed him so the world wouldn't find out who fathered him," Robb joined in, the pair of them a united front. Jaime Lannister didn't know where to look. "And you... You pushed my brother out of a tower because he saw you and the Queen together."

Suddenly Eddmina was back there, standing by the foot of the broken tower, watching Bran plummet. She'd seen it at least a dozen times over in nightmares, but it never lost its horror. That day was meant to be a good one, it was the day she learnt of Uther's existence, the day that she and Willas were meant to celebrate the start of their new journey as parents, yet the joy had been robbed from them all, and the day was forever scarred.

Eddmina thought bitterly that perhaps it set the tone for Uther's whole life. His first day of being known was a day of great worry and sadness, then the attacker who threatened to kill them both before he had even been born. Panic over her mother's capture of Tyrion Lannister had pushed her into early labour, and he had been born barely a week when news of Jaime's attack on her father and his men reached Winterfell. He had been two months old when they left Winterfell, and almost eight months had passed since then and yet all he'd known was bloodshed, suffering, and sorrow. She'd done her best to shield him from it all, treated him as perfectly she could, and though he was truly the only ray of sunlight in a dark day, she knew how much had been taken from them all.

Eddmina was bitter for her brother, knowing Bran's fall had denied him of the life he'd always wanted. He would never be a knight, he would never serve in the Kingsguard, his dreams had been stolen. Eddmina burned for justice for him, but when she thought of what that fall had meant for her son... the flames of anger became like those of one of the seven hells.

"Where's your proof?" Jaime shrugged defensively, though his eyes were watching as Eddmina's hand tightened around her dagger.

"Your proof almost died," Eddmina said coldly. "I watched it happen, I told you I saw it at breakfast a week after, and I am not blind. The way you and your sister shuffled about our keep, looking as though you knew something, I saw it, I knew something was not right. Then two killers got sent to our keep, one for Bran, one for me. Kill the boy in case he wakes and remembers, kill me in case I saw more than I let on."

"Who says I sent those men?" Jaime shrugged again, though he swallowed slowly. "You Starks are not as likeable as you may think, anyone could want you dead."

"Anyone who thought we may be sitting on information that would shake the seven kingdoms," Eddmina glared at him, remembering how cold the knife had been on her throat, how the man said he would get paid extra as there were two to kill.

The memory didn't scare her like it used to. Instead, it made her feel strong. She had survived. Honour let out another low grumble that verged on a growl.

"If I had sent those men it would've been a mercy for you, all of you, especially the boy," Jaime shrugged, and Eddmina felt a chill inside when she realised the boy he spoke of was Uther and not Bran. "He would've been spared of all this, what kind of a life is he having?"

Who was he to speak of her son? She felt insulted even thinking that a man such as him knew her boy existed, but she managed to keep her cool, channelling her anger into cold confidence. She'd seen her father do it a thousand times, be presented with something that would make lesser men shout until the keep shook, but he always stayed calm. He always looked deeper than his first initial feeling, and somehow he always found sympathy for people, regardless of who they were. Eddmina knew she wasn't capable of sympathy for Jaime Lannister, but she knew she could try to not care enough to feel anger.

"A far better life than you and your family will ever have when this war is over," she announced, noticing the way he rolled his eyes until he saw Honour bare her teeth, Greywind edging ever closer.

"Is that what you tell yourself at night so you can sleep?" he taunted, though there was no joy in his voice, no emotion whatsoever. "There have been many awful parents in the history of Westeros, you're not in short company at least."

"That is rich," she managed to breath out, cursing herself inside when she realised he'd gotten what he wanted when she felt her chest tighten as if her body was contracted in pure disgust and rage, though not entirely just directed at him.

"We've sent peace terms to King's Landing," Robb told him, changing the conversation before it could get even more personal, barely noticing how his sister's hands had clenched into fists and she was looking to the sky as if she wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

"You don't know my father very well if you think he's going to negotiate with you," Jaime disregarded the threat easily, but still looked uncomfortable.

"No, but he's starting to know us, isn't he?" Robb said flatly, and Eddmina marvelled over his cool composure; he was just like their father.

"Three victories don't make you a conquerer," Jaime said, refusing to give up. Eddmina laughed bitterly, nudging Honour so the wolf took a step closer to him.

"Better than three defeats," Robb pointed out, his voice still chilling.

Robb turned to leave, but not before pushing Greywind forward. the wolf took his sister's side, and the pair of them padded up to Jaime's face, growling.

"Good night, Ser, sleep well," Eddmina called as she followed her brother, offering him one last glare.

She didn't realise how sick she felt until she was away from the Lannister, her head swimming as his words echoed in her mind. What he'd said about her, about Willas, about Uther... Her whole body felt heavy, and despite knowing she needed to keep moving, knowing that she couldn't show weakness until she'd reached her tent, it took every ounce of strength in her body to get her legs to carry her. Somehow, her energy disappeared, and she found herself stuck in place, unable to move any further. They were away from the cells, at least, but there were still plenty of men milling about. None of them looked at their Princess, but they were still there, and that was the only thing that kept her from screaming until her whole body was purged of the self-hatred that coursed through her.

Robb hadn't noticed his sister wasn't just behind him straight away, not until he noticed Greywind stop too. When he turned, he saw his sister stood as frozen as ice, paler than usual, looking as though she couldn't breathe. Without showing an ounce of emotion, she was showing far more than she knew, and it was so unlike her.

"Edd?" He called, frowning.

"He's right," she stated, her words so quiet he wasn't even sure she had spoken. "Jaime fucking Lannister is right, gods damn him."

"What in seven hells are you talking about?" Robb asked with a shocked, bitter laugh. He sounded angry, but not at her, never at her.

"I am a..." she began, but couldn't finish.

That was unlike her too. Eddmina never said anything she hadn't thought through thoroughly. Every word, every sentence, she had planned and calculated to ensure that she made sense and made impact. That had always been her way, right from childhood. One conversation with Jaime Lannister though, and her nerve had been wiped clear.

Eddmina took a deep breath, looked to the sky, and swallowed heavily. When she looked back at her brother, she looked as though she had shut off all her feelings once again.

"I am a terrible mother," she finished eventually, though her voice had found confidence once more. Robb looked taken aback, as if her words were the last thing he'd expected.

"You're going to take lessons in parenting from a man like the Kingslayer?" Robb asked, dumbfounded, managing a laugh at his sister. She did not share his amusement, though it looked as if she felt nothing at all. "Edd, what he said is horseshit and you know it. You love Uther-"

"Loving him does not make me a good mother, Robb," she stated as if he was stupid. "You do not understand, you will never understand, probably not even when you wed your Frey girl and have children of your own."

At the last part she gave him a knowing glare, one that made him squirm. He couldn't meet her eye as he swallowed nervously, clearly hating the reminder of his unavoidable betrothal.

"You're right, I don't understand," Robb folded his arms across his chest as he stepped closer to his sister, who remained exactly as she had been. "Perhaps you could explain."

"This cause is as much mine as it is yours, it is my duty to our family to follow you on your journey south, it is an honour to serve you as your Hand," she began to explain, though noticed she had fallen back onto courtesies to hide how she truly felt. She had never really done that with her brother, yet he was not simply her brother anymore but her king. "I do it without complaint, I have done it with pride. I might not be able to fight on the battlefield, but I will always aim to serve you and this cause how ever I can. In doing this, I have betrayed my son. He is barely three months away from his first nameday yet he has never known what home means. All he knows is this damned camp. He hardly knows his family save the few who are also tied to this cause. He's had his safety threatened, he's been surrounded by nothing but violence and bloodshed, and while he laughs and smiles at the world around him as he knows no better I know it is not the life I thought he would have."

"Edd, he's to be the Warden of the Reach, he'll know conflict one day," Robb sighed, attempting to help, but if anything it infuriated her more as he struggled to grasp what was upsetting her. "You can't protect him forever."

"That's the sort of thing you'd say if he was ten and I was coddling him," she snapped, before composing herself once more. "I didn't think this war would turn out like this. I thought like a fool we'd save father and the girls and within a few months we would all be home and this whole thing would be nothing more than a smudge of ink on the pages of his life story, but now it's starting to feel as though the entire inkpot has spilt. This war has been his whole life, and that isn't fair. I was meant to protect him from it and instead I've been nothing but selfish and dragged him into it all."

The world wasn't fair, Eddmina knew that quite clearly. She knew better than to complain too, as others had it harder, but she couldn't help it. She tried to ignore it, usually succeeded in shoving it deep down inside, but a few words from Jaime Lannister, and Eddmina could no longer hide from the truths she tried to escape. She thought her son would've had a very different life. She'd thought they would leave Winterfell and settle in Highgarden, and Uther would've had a normal, happy first year of life. There were vast numbers of Tyrell relations who would've surely flooded to meet him, not to mention the Hightowers too, and in that time Eddmina might've learnt how to actually be a mother. She might've learnt how to balance her sense of self with her duties as a mother. She would've grown up the way she was meant to, and not had her emotions stunted by the constant need to prove herself.

Instead she had to constantly chose between her own family - her husband and her son - and a cause. If the cause failed, they all died, but if they won, then she would be left with the knowledge that she'd put her duties as wife and mother second constantly. It had been horrible trying to find a balance, and she'd always known deep down that she'd never managed to balance it. One conversation with Jaime Lannister and she realised it all more than ever.

It hurt. It broke her heart. It outraged her that of everyone to recognise her mistakes it was someone as deplorable as Jaime Lannister. Yet, despite it all, Eddmina felt cold. Her anger and pain faded, as it always seemed to, and left her feeling nothing. Cold was a familiar feeling, she'd always liked the cold, but that was real cold. She liked the snow, and the frost. What she didn't like was the emptiness inside of herself, how she saw men die and felt nothing, or how her heart sometimes seemed to thud in fear or nerves before settling back into a steady rhythmn as if nothing had upset her, or how instead of crying she merely felt as though a dark storm cloud washed over her and took away every emotion. She'd never been one for big displays of her feelings unless pushed to the limit, but Eddmina felt so unlike herself and knew the war had changed her, perhaps irreversibly. Even so, she struggled to care, as she knew changing was perhaps the only way to survive.

Robb was right, she loved her son. She loved Uther more than anything, so much so that she barely even understood it. Loving him was like breathing, it was just something that happened to her. Loving Willas was the same, it was just a part of her that was built into her, just like her ability to ride a horse. It had once been all-consuming and confusing as she'd struggled to understand what loving someone meant but it had settled into something easy, though she had always known what it meant to love Uther. He had grown inside her, after all, and she'd bled and suffered to bring him into the world. She loved him, she loved Willas, but she was failing them both every time their camp moved or another attack against the Lannisters was planned. It was not the life they were meant to have, yet it was the only one they could have, trapped by circumstance and duty. Somehow, the only emotion she had not shut off inside of her was the love she felt for them both, and the guilt that hit her like a tidal wave every time she thought of their reality.

The only way she could ever make it right would be to end the war swiftly. That wasn't too ambitious of a thought, considering they were yet to hear back from the terms they'd sent to the capital. If they were refused, then Theon was securing them a fleet of ships, and Willas and Lady Stark were securing them a larger army with the Tyrells and Baratheons. All hope was not lost. It would be tedious, but Eddmina knew there was a way out, all they had to do was keep fighting. All she had to do was keep her head down, keep planning, and soon enough she would be home with her son and husband and their life could go back to what it was supposed to be. Until then, Eddmina had to continue fighting.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second as she thought of her husband, miles away and negotiating their cause. He was doing his part without complaint, and she she needed to continue to do her part too. Eddmina let out a long sigh, and forced herself to move once more. Her legs still felt as heavy as steel, but she knew she just needed to get to her tent. It was on the other side of camp, but if she walked quick enough she would be there in no time.

Part of her had hoped Robb would let her walk in peace, but he caught up to her, their wolves padding along behind them both. He put his hand on her shoulder, and though he did not stop them, nor did he look at her, she knew he was just trying to let her know that he was with her.

"If I thought this war was truly harming you, or Uther, I'd send you straight back to Winterfell," Robb told her, squeezing her arm gently. Eddmina felt a faint smile appear at the thought of Winterfell, but it quickly faded out of reflex. "I don't really think that's the case. Like everything you turn your hand to, you're infuriatingly good at dealing with this war."

"I'm not good at dancing," Eddmina tried to joke, but laughing felt wrong. Still, Robb managed it, even if it was quiet and tired. "It will be over soon."

"It will, and when it's all over I'll have the pleasure of telling my nephew one day how brilliant his mother is and how I'd have never gotten through all this without her," Robb reassured her, and his hand drifted to her other shoulder, his arm slung over her back in a half-embrace as they continued to walk. "I was thinking that we could go to Riverrun after this next attack, see our Tully uncles. I've had word that both of them are leading their own assaults against the Lannisters, it would make sense for us to tie our forces together properly."

"Mother wanted to go to Riverrun," Eddmina remembered. "She wanted to go see her father, our grandfather. He's dying, apparently."

Eddmina managed to ignore the surge of bitter jealousy that reared it's ugly head at the thought of her mother still having her father. Her mother was twice their age, and Hoster Tully was very old. How lucky, that he had managed to reach an age to be able to feel the plagues that came with old age, and how lucky was her mother that she still got to have her father. Eddmina wished that the case was the same with her own, until the feeling dissolved away as quickly as it had appeared.

"A lot of people are dying lately," Robb said, not wanting to sound cruel, merely making an observation. Eddmina realised that perhaps it was not just her emotions that had been warped. "At least if we base ourselves in Riverrun it will be easier. Not as much travelling around, we'd be more stationary for allies."

"If you want a proper base we would be better to settle somewhere like Moat Cailin," Eddmina pointed out, recalling her father's war stories, the few that he told his children. "Father always said it was impenetrable from the south. The Lannisters wouldn't stand a chance against us there."

"You're right, but at least in Riverrun we have family," Robb said, and Eddmina knew his mind was made up, and no amount of advice from his Hand could sway him. "We'd be safer there than anywhere, save Winterfell, obviously. You'd be able to take more time for yourself, spend more time with Uther if you're worried about him. We'd be there in time for our namedays too."

It was almost sickening how much their lives had changed since their last nameday, but yet there was still room for more change.

"In that case when we get settled I will write to the Twins," Eddmina decided. She didn't look at her brother, but she saw out of the corner of her eye how his head snapped to look at her as if she was mad, and she felt his hand drop from her shoulder. "I will ask Lord Walder to send his daughters to pay a visit."

"What?" Robb pressed, his jaw tightening as he studied his sister's face, trying to see if she was joking. She obviously wasn't.

"It is about time we finalise our alliance, and I'm sure a royal wedding would be an excellent morale boost for everyone," Eddmina explained simply, and when she glanced at him her face was void of any emotion. Not sympathy, not amusement, not anger, nothing. "It is your duty, Robb. We made a deal."

"We made a lot of promises to Walder Frey," Robb muttered, bristled and on-edge.

"Yes, and all of them were to ensure that we could cross over his lands and secure much-needed men for our army, what do you think will happen to that agreement should you refuse to marry one of his daughters?" Eddmina asked. Robb did not answer. "You're not a boy, Robb."

"No, I'm a king," he shot, stopping in his tracks. Eddmina stopped too, and turned to face him properly, realising just how betrayed he looked. "I was not a King when you made that ageement. Now I am, and so I-"

"You, what?" Eddmina frowned, holding her hands together in front of her as she regarded her brother. It was rare she felt so authoritative over him, especially in the past few months, but for the first time in a while she felt like the eldest, assuming her usual role once more. "You're above promises you made after you've seen the benefit of them? You're too good for the daughter of a highborn lord? Or you're not tied to the duty of your agreements, because a King should be free to do as he likes?"

"Eddmina," Robb tried, his voice raised sternly. She merely raised her eyebrows at him.

"Robb," she mimicked, folding her arms across her chest. "You will marry one of Lord Frey's daughters, as you promised. You gave the Frey's your word, and Starks do not break our word."

"But I do not love any of the Frey girls," he attempted to argue. "I love-"

"You do not know the Frey girls," Eddmina interupted, not allowing him the chance to say what she already knew. "I did my duty to my family and married a man I hardly knew. Our mother did the same. You will do the same too, as is your role as head of the family. I sacrificed so much for our family when I wed Willas, but I did it because it was duty. Now I am sacrificing my own family for this cause. Do not watch me put everything aside to be by your side if you will not honour the deal I settled for you. Respect your duties, Robb, and people will applaud you and call you a great King. Forget them and people will forget you."

Robb looked like he was biting back anger, but most of all a bruised ego. He looked truly betrayed that his sister would talk to him like that, but Eddmina saw her words as nothing more than brutal truths that he had to learn. She did not give him the chance to argue back, as they were so close to her tent, and so after offering him a customary bow of her head, she turned and continued walking, this time on her own.

Honour, however, was not far behind, nudging her nose into Eddmina's hand. As the two of them entered the tent, the direwolf plodded over to the bed and hopped up onto the side that was usually Willas', curling herself into a ball. Eddmina was tempted to join her, wanting to bury her face into the fur of her wolf, but he couldn't, not as Garlan was sat on the edge of his own makeshift bed, shirtless so she could see his the thick bandages he still sported around his stomach. Uther was sat on his knee, and upon seeing his mother's arrival, he ginned, reaching out for her. Eddmina's heart sunk for a moment as she considered her earlier thoughts, but the joy of seeing him quickly overtook her whole being.

"Hello, boys," she managed a smile to them both. She leant down and pressed a kiss to the top of Uther's head, stroking his thick, dark hair, before she looked at Garlan. "How are you?"

"Right as rain, Edd," he promised with a wink. "Talisa's just gone, she's just changed the bandages again but she said I should be fully recovered soon enough."

"Talisa's been here?" Eddmina asked, keeping her face straight despite internally cringing.

She'd just told Robb he had to marry a girl he didn't even know, when the woman he clearly was infatuated with was walking right in his direction. If anything would drive him to her, spiting his sister would be a particularly decent excuse. Eddmina considered storming back out and making sure the two of them didn't run into each other, but Garlan wrapped his hand around her arm, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Stop worrying, we have more important things to discuss," he pulled her arm so she sat at his side, and he was wearing an excited grin. With that, he swooped Uther into the air, making the little boy scream with laughter, before he placed him down on the ground gently at the edge of the bed, making sure he was sat up safely before he removed his hands from him. "Go on, clever lad, show your mother what you've learnt!"

Eddmina watched cautiously as her son sat there for a moment, looking between the two of them with his usual smile. It took a few minutes, and several encouragements from Garlan, before he reached up, the way he usually did if he wanted Eddmina to pick him up. She made to grab him, but Garlan stopped her, his hands on hers, and she watched as her son instead grabbed onto the edge of the bed, and slowly but surely pulled himself up. He stood, his legs wobbling a little, but he had never seemed so confident, especially when Garlan laughed proudly and the little boy offered them both a happy, toothless grin. Eddmina wanted to smile, but her face fell, though neither of them noticed.

"Aha, clever lad!" Garlan cheered, swooping Uther back into the air. "I didn't encourage him the first time, he just did it, then once he'd done it he couldn't stop! One of our cousins, after she learnt to stand it was only a few months before she learnt to walk, and then... Are you crying?"

Eddmina hadn't noticed the tears. She'd felt the burning guilt surging through her, but not the tears, and upon Garlan pointing them out she quickly covered her face with both hands in shame. Uther laughed, thinking she was merely playing a game, but that made her feel worse. She couldn't help the small sob that escaped her lips, and she couldn't hide from her earlier thoughts anymore.

"Don't cry, Edda," Garlan reassured her, his usual joking tone replaced with care and concern. Her eyes still hidden, she didn't see him move, but she felt his arms wrap around her shoulder, encouraging her into an embrace.

Two years ago, Garlan Tyrell had been a stranger. She didn't particularly care for strangers, but she had given him a chance, and as she rested her head against his chest, she was glad he was no longer a stranger. He was her brother, the perfect bonus that came with marrying into the Tyrell's, and as he stroked her tightly braided hair, she had never been happier to have him in her life.

"I missed it," she managed to say, her voice shaken. She still did not have the strength to look up at either of them, especially not her son. "I miss so much of him. I am the worst mother-"

"Don't you dare," Garlan told her firmly, squeezing her tightly. "You're far from being a bad mother, let alone the worst."

"You have to say that," she rolled her eyes stubbornly, still refusing to look at them.

"No, Eddmina, I don't," Garlan insisted, squeezing her arm once more. "I once watched my own mother trip over Willas and drop Loras onto the floor."

"Your mother is the greatest woman in Westeros," Eddmina defended, despite Garlan's laughter at his story.

"Yes, she is," Garlan agreed with a smile. "Now, dropping Loras might explain some things about how he turned out to have an aversion to any sort of formal education rather than being knocked off horses, but my mother made a mistake. It didn't suddenly make her worthy of the seven hells, and all of us would agree that she's wonderful. Your only mistake is having a child just on the brink of war, but how were you to know?"

"I could've stayed in Winterfell with him, kept him safe properly, or I could've gone to Highgarden like I was supposed to," Eddmina couldn't help but argue, though her voice had become weaker. She managed to look at her son, reaching out and stroking his hair, the hair that was the exact colour as hers. "I didn't have to be so selfish in bringing him along for this war, I should have thought about him before it was too late and taken him somewhere safe."

"Trust me, if you had gone to Highgarden you would be bored out of your mind, and you would have probably spent far less time with Uther there then you have done here," Garlan somehow laughed, though Eddmina frowned in confusion. "Here, you carry him around every day everywhere you go, he sleeps in your tent, other than yourself and the few people you trust, no one else looks after him. In Highgarden, you would have been supplied with a small army of nurses and maids to help care for him, and the responsibility of his care would be out of your hands. You're the future Lady of the Reach, not to mention you're now a Princess, women in your position are often seen as being above childcare."

Eddmina knew he was right. Her own parents had been fairly hands-on, but there had been maids too, not to mention the Maester, and the septa for the girls. That was in Winterfell, and she could only assume that in Highgarden things were more formal, with more helping hands readily available. Eddmina considered how exhausted she was most nights if Uther refused to sleep, or how as he grew he was becoming more of a handful, and she couldn't help but consider that help would be a relief. Even so, she knew help could take over, and at least baring most of the responsibilities she had the opportunity to know her son. Most ladies who bore children didn't get that, having them as nothing more that heirs for their husbands and handing them over to a third party for care as soon as possible.

Eddmina knew she wasn't the greatest parent. She never would be, even without the war. Even after caring for her many younger siblings, it wasn't something that came naturally to her. She was trying, though. She was trying, and given everything else happening around her, she knew she had to at least give herself a little credit.

She lent over and lifted Uther from Garlan's knee onto her own. He grabbed onto her braid, giving it a tug. She managed a smile, feeling the guilt leave and be replaced by pride. He was quite remarkable, and despite not wanting him to grow up too quickly, she couldn't wait to see it.

"May I ask you something?" Eddmina spoke after a moment of comfortable silence, unable to ignore the question that had appeared in the back of her mind. Garlan nodded, so she continued. "Do you and Leonette not want children?"

A smile emerged on Garlan's face, though it was not his usual one of mischief and joy. It was a sad, knowing smile, the sort that buried secrets and the pain of others. It was an expression that seemed alien on a face like his, and Eddmina immediately regretted asking, knowing she was uncovering more than she intended.

"I'm sorry," she apologised, feeling ashamed.  "I didn't mean to pry. Please, forget I said anything."

"No, don't worry yourself," Garlan shook his head, but the strange smile was still there. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, before he let out a laugh that sounded a lot more like a sigh.  "We have always wanted children. Leo didn't have the greatest relationship with her own family growing up and so always wanted to build her own, and I've always liked the idea of children. As second son, any children of mine wouldn't be of any great political stance, they could just be themselves. Of course there's plenty of logistics behind it all, but in truth, the circumstances in my family have meant the two of us decided that the timing has simply never worked out."

Eddmina frowned. His answer had left her with more questions than answers, and Garlan knew that too. His smile dropped, and he turned to face her properly, wincing slightly as the movement caused his healing wound to twinge. He looked at her seriously, and she realised it was one of the only times she'd seen him not joking around with her, lightening the mood whatever the cost.

"If I tell you the truth you will swear to me on all the gods out there that you will not tell anyone of this, especially Willas," Garlan said, and Eddmina had to hide her shock at his seriousness as she nodded. "Please, Edda, Willas can never know."

"I promise," Eddmina swore. "Old Gods, and the New."

"Good," Garlan sighed, relieved, though he still did not relax away from his seriousness. "In truth, we didn't want children right away anyway, we wanted time to ourselves to build our own lives, but with our wedding happening so close to that damned joust, we didn't get much of a honeymoon period. We were meant to travel to Lys to see my aunt and enjoy some time to ourselves after all the wedding chaos, but... how could we leave, how could I?"

"I know," Eddmina nodded, recalling when her own brother had been close to death, shuddering slightly. She took hold of Garlan's hand, squeezing it. "I know Will was grateful you were with him at that time."

"Where else could I be?" Garlan shrugged. "Your husband is an irritating know-it-all, not to mention a stubborn prick when he wants to be, and don't even get me started on when he used to beat me in sword fighting, but I love him. He's my other half. I suppose it's like how you feel with Robb, though I know twins share a bond I'd never understand. When his horse fell on top of him, I thought I was going to die, never mind him. He was the one who'd called me 'Gallant' so people wouldn't pick up on the fact I was plump, he would take the blame for any trouble we caused as boys so our parents and grandmother weren't too strict with me, he introduced me to Leo when our families were at a feast together when I was too bloody awestruck by the sight of her to remember my own name. He had done so much for me, and I couldn't help but feel like I was betraying him if I had children before he was even married, especially while most of the bannermen wanted him gone.

"Men like Randyll Tarly and families like the Oakhearts were looking for any excuse to prove Willas was no longer fit to serve as heir just because of that blasted joust. They wanted nothing more than for our father to put him aside and make me heir. Credit to my father, I don't think he ever truly considered it, but even if he did I didn't want it, and Leonette definitely didn't want to one day become Lady of Highgarden. She just wanted to be my wife, and I just wanted to be her husband, and a knight, I never wanted to be a Lord. One night one of the bannermen pointed out that the accident might've left Willas unable to father children, and so he was a pointless heir, especially when there was a second Tyrell brother readily available, with proven skill in combat, not to mention a young, beautiful wife who was sure to sire me sons soon enough. Leo didn't like that, she's got an excellent temper sometimes, but she stayed quiet, and that night in our chambers we made a pact that to protect my brother we wouldn't have children until he was at least married. We didn't know what would happen to Willas should he be removed as heir, but we did know there'd be far more pressure on all of us should Leo fall pregnant. By that point she was just as protective over Willas as I am, and she knew any children we had wouldn't be ours, they would just be weapons the bannermen could use against Willas. I would love my children, but I love my brother, and I wouldn't let one be used against the other.

"We did some research, we started being careful in our encounters, and to be safe Leonette started drinking moon tea at least once every two months. She brewed it herself in the middle of the night so no one would suspect anything, and our plan worked seamlessly. Of course, people started getting curious and wondering why we hadn't had children after a few years of marriage. Mother mentioned once to me after a few wines about wanting grandchildren, my grandmother made a few implications about our fertility, but we didn't care. In truth we liked our lives without children, and never really spoke of the arrangement, until we were in Winterfell, and you told us you were with child. Leonette suggested she stop drinking the tea, I agreed, and we decided to change our approach and start trying for a babe properly as soon as we got home. We promised each other we'd never tell anyone, especially Willas. It would kill him if he knew, if he thought we had put our lives on hold for him, but truthfully, it was the least we could do to protect him, and he means more to me than a dozen potential unborn children."

Eddmina looked at Garlan, feeling as though she was seeing him for the first time. This was not Garlan the Gallant, the knight who'd proven himself in battle countless times and put his life on the line for a cause that didn't have to be his, not to mention years of tourney success. This was not Garlan the jokester either, the loving middle child who tried his very best to make everyone around him laugh, poking fun at his siblings and teasing his loved ones. This was Garlan in his truest form, gallant and jester mixed into one, going to extremes to look after his family, protective and caring to a fault. It would have been easy to see the three streaks of his personality as three separate people, as most men were not so complex, most men did not hide behind so many layers. Knowing the new side of him, the side he had only ever trusted with his wife, Eddmina had never respected him more.

The man sat beside her had taken a knife to the gut for her twin, and he had sacrificed his own potential family to ensure his brother stayed safe. Eddmina knew he was a good man, she knew he was a brave man, and she knew she loved him, but that had never been so true.

"I won't tell him, I promise," Eddmina spoke, unsure of what else to say, dazed as she let it all sink in. "Garlan..."

"No, do not act like we've made a great sacrifice," Garlan shook his head, and she was relieved to see his usual smile in place as he squeezed her hands. Even so, her body ached as the tale settled inside her. "I love my brother. I know if the roles were reversed he'd do the same for me."

It was true. Eddmina knew her husband would do anything for his brother. He would do anything for all of his siblings, just like she would. The thought of Willas then, miles away with the other two Tyrell siblings, brought a whole new wave of amazement. Had Garlan and Leonette not put such a plan in place Willas might've been usurped as heir, and then there would've been no point in their marriage. Without their planning, Eddmina might not have ever met Willas, they might not have married, they wouldn't have Uther. Their planning hadn't just protected Willas, it had ensured that the life Eddmina had could be hers. The two of them had done so much for them, all three of them, and Eddmian knew she had never felt such gratitude.

"Thank you," she said, because it was all she could think of. "Will adores you. He... He would hate himself if he knew all this."

"He would," Garlan agreed with a laugh. "He'd probably lose his temper at me then sulk for a few weeks. He can be quite predictable like that."

"Garlan, I..." Eddmina ingored his jokes at her husband's expense, feeling like the story was still sinking into her mind. "What would you have done if Will never married?"

"He would have gotten married at some point," Garlan remarked dryly, rolling his eyes at the memories that flooded his mind. "Grandmother wouldn't allow him to be a bachelor forever, and if he kept refusing or his his hand kept being turned away, then Leo and I would have reassessed our plan. We knew it wouldn't be forever, it was just for a little while."

It didn't seem a little while. Eddmina and Willas had been married barely a year before she fell pregnant. For someone who had such little knowledge on preventative measures one could take, it seemed like such a long, long time. Clearly though, for Garlan and Leonette, it was nothing.

"I didn't realise someone could be so selfless," Eddmina decided, offering Garlan a grateful smile.

"Don't thank me, thank my wife," Garlan laughed, and his return to jokes reminded Eddmina that just because the truth was new to her, it was something he had lived with for a long time.

"I miss her," Eddmina said before she could stop herself.

"Me too," Garlan agreed. "I'm sure it won't be too long now before we're all back together."

It was a statement they all said often, about re-joining the rest of their loved ones. Still, as Garlan said it then, it took on a new meaning, and Eddmina couldn't help but wish that it were true simply for his sake, for Leonette's sake, and for the sake of her future nephew or niece.

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