The pains had come on so severely in such a short space of time Eddmina could barely think, her mind lingering on nothing but the fear that had haunted her throughout most of her pregnancy. Her grandmothers, one of which was buried not far from where she had knelt, and the gods. The damned gods who had sent the assassin after her, they now wanted to claim her back as their own. It was rather poetic and horribly ironic that the whole thing would begin while she was surrounded by death, and some awful thought appeared in her head as to whether she would be buried down there with her long-gone family, in a tomb next to Aunt Lyanna and Uncle Brandon, or if the Tyrell's had their own claim on her. She didn't even know their rituals or traditions.

As another contraction faded away slowly, Eddmina attempted to catch her breath though her heart was still racing, her chest aching as though her lungs had been hollowed out with a blunt wooden spoon. She needed to move, she needed to get out of the crypts if she had any intention of survival, but she just couldn't get the strength or the motivation. What would be the point? They were all going to die soon enough, did it truly matter if she died in childbirth or in a matter of weeks at the hand of the Lannisters in revenge for her mother's actions? They were all going to die because of her mother's stupidity.

She choked out a sob at that thought. Her mother had preferred to put them all in danger rather than just come home to be at her side. Was she really so bad? Had she really been such a terrible, wicked daughter that her mother would've rather taken a Lannister prisoner and put everyone she loved at risk instead of be at her side, especially when she had asked? Eddmina was usually so diplomatic with her self-judgement, but not in that moment. No, all she could think was how awful of a person she was. Perhaps no one truly loved her at all, perhaps it would be easier to disappear from life quietly in the crypts, a cellar so full of death no one would notice her addition. Even if Willas had ever loved her he surely wouldn't now, not now his connection to her and the Starks endangered his whole family. The Lannisters would destroy them all, even the Tyrells, and it was all her fault. She sobbed again, cursing herself.

Life wasn't meant to be so painful. Eddmina wanted nothing more than to be back in Highgarden, safe and happy in the sunshine, surrounded by nothing but peace. Everything seemed more peaceful in the Reach, everything more joyful. If they'd have stayed there rather than travel north for the Royal visit, everything would be fine. Her pregnancy would have gone smoothly and easily, without any of the emotional complications that she'd endured in the north. Maybe Bran wouldn't have fallen, her father and sisters might have never gone south, her brother might still call Winterfell home. She'd be the only one to have left, but that would have been alright. She would've had Willas's love, she would've had their baby safely and without any of the turmoil the Tyrell's had put onto them. The celebrations would have been grand, and their baby would know just how loved they were without ever having to feel as though they weren't good enough. It could have all been so sweet, so good, but instead she was curled up on the floor of the crypts, at the feet of her Aunt.

"When I always said I wished I knew you I never meant like this," Eddmina groaned, squinting through her clenched eyes to look at Lyanna Stark. Another pain struck her and she let out a small cry.

Eddmina didn't want to die. It felt like she was going to, though. The pain was unbearable, and it had only just begun. She remembered when her mother was having her little siblings, how sometimes she would be locked away for days. How could she go on like that for so long, in so much pain? She desperately wished she knew more of the details of what it all entailed, because at least that way she would know what to expect, she would know how the pain would continue, and maybe she'd be better at dealing with it rather than spiralling in despairing agony. She clenched her hand to her stomach again, grimacing as the contraction passed, and as she glanced up at the statues again, she knew she truly didn't want to join them, not yet at least.

Damn the gods, damn the Lannisters, she wasn't just going to lay down and go quietly. She was Eddmina Stark-Tyrell, she wasn't going to give up without putting up a fight. She would have to keep fighting until she couldn't anymore.

If she wanted to live, the first step would be to get herself out of the crypts and find help. That seemed so simple, until she realised that she struggled to stand generally, let alone when severe pain was seizing her every few moments. Still, she would have to get up, and so she leant forward, grasping onto the stone platform on which her aunt's statue stood. She managed to get to her feet, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, trying to think of what to do next. She saw the sword resting at her Uncle Brandon's feet, and although it felt like stealing, she took hold of it, carefully placing her weight against it to use as a cane.

"Sorry, Uncle," she whispered through gritted teeth. "I'll return it, I promise."

Eddmina began to make her slow journey back through the tunnelled tombs, stopping every so often from the pain or just to catch her breath, and though she was desperate to stop and rest she didn't allow herself the opportunity, constantly telling herself that she could rest when she was dead if the gods truly did want to claim her that night. Surrounded by her long-gone family, it was as if each statue was another milestone, each grave another ancestor cheering her on for what felt like an impossible journey. It didn't help she'd forgotten to retrieve her lantern, walking in the darkness with nothing but memory to guide her. Part of her wanted to be scared of the darkness, but there was enough to fear, and there was nothing truly scary about the crypts. It was only her family, after all.

It was only when she reached the steps that Eddmina hesitated for more than a few seconds, another strong contraction taking hold of her to the point she let out another hiss of pain, struggling to keep her balance.

'Let me stop, let me rest,' she thought as her knees trembled, begging to meet with the ground so she could curl up and let the stone ground envelop her. 'It's no use. I'm done.'

"No," she spoke aloud, though her voice began quiet and trembling she raised it slightly, "No. Keep going."

She placed her sword-cane onto the first step and heaved herself up, but it was no use. It was too dark and the stairs were too steep. Though every instinct was screaming and fighting, she felt herself sit down, shivering. She couldn't stop, yet stopping felt so, so good. She was so tired, and the pain was getting worse. She could barely catch her breath and she was just so, so tired. There was no way she'd be able to climb up all the stairs, and part of her marvelled over the fact she had gotten down them all in the first place. She couldn't climb, yet staying curled up into herself on the first step wasn't an option. If she stayed there maybe she truly would die, so she forced herself to sit up, and forced herself to shuffle up onto the next step. Eddmina carried on that way for a while, practically crawling up the stairs in exhausted desperation, refusing to give in even though it was so tempting, especially each time a new contraction hit her. At one point she dropped her uncle's sword and it went clattering down the stairs, and in the darkness it was only then that she realised just how far she had climbed. Surely it wasn't far to the door now? Surely she didn't have to carry on for much longer?

Eddmina used that thought to keep herself going, powering her motivation on despite the tearing pain she felt all through her stomach. It felt like her child was trying to tear its way out of her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She'd known it was going to hurt, she'd known it would be hard and she still had so long left to go, but somehow it surpassed all of her agonising expectations. She truly felt hopeless, but as she reached the top step and her eyes - finally acclimatised to the darkness - landed on the great oak door, she sighed in relief. The satisfaction didn't last long due to the pain rendering her unable to get to her feet and so unable to reach the heavy lock of the door. That didn't stop her from trying, but the more she tried the more frustrated she got, until eventually she gave up, hot tears staining her cheeks as she resorted to banging her fist against the wood, though by that stage she was too tired to even do that.

She felt done, worn out, and completely out of options of what to do. That was, until she heard sniffing at the door, and then a long, low howl.

***
"Did you check the godswood?" Theon called out to Robb from the armoury as he came back into the courtyard.

"That was the first place I looked," he replied quickly, snapping out of concern. "Is Willas or Garlan back yet?"

"No sign of them," Theon shook his head before smirking. "Don't you think it a little dramatic of them to go riding off to look for her? Flint's still in her stable, and it's not as if Edd's been a regular rider lately."

"I think it was a fair idea, it's been hours, she could have gone anywhere by now," Robb responded, knowing that Theon would always be quick to pick fault with the southerners. "Have you looked in the library? Or the sept?"

"Why would Edd be in the sept?" Theon snorted out a laugh, rolling his eyes. "Sometimes it seems like I know your sister better than you do."

"Don't," Robb warned in frustration.

Robb continued to list off various places around Winterfell that Eddmina could have stormed off to. At first after she'd left the maester's office he thought she had just gone to bed, yet it quickly became apparent that she hadn't when Willas asked where she had gone, their room empty. That was when the search parties began, with Robb and Theon searching around the keep and Willas and Garlan riding around the keep to search the nearby woodlands. Somehow the contents of their mother's letter remained secret to everyone but Theon, who Robb had briefed quickly as they wandered the grounds. For some reason Theon didn't seem to see the fuss of it all, thinking that Lady Stark had made the right decision, and though at first Robb was annoyed at his judgement he decided to just put it down to their differing upbringings. Even if they'd grown up together and Theon had spent more time in the North than the Iron Islands, he was still a Greyjoy, and the Greyjoys believed in acting without necessarily thinking. As long as their actions made them seem strong, nothing else mattered.

He could, at least, understand why Eddmina had been furious at the news. That was why he offered to help look for her, despite neither of them speaking to each other for weeks, not since she'd punched him. There had been no sign of her for hours though. Not in the library, the godswood, the kitchens, the smiths, or the stables. All of her usual hideouts were completely deserted.

They began forming a new plan, thinking of other places around the keep that she could be, but before either of them could decide where to look first, the sound of howling came from the other side of the courtyard down one of the alleys.

"Greywind?" Theon asked as Robb looked off in the distance with a frown.

"No, that's Honour," Robb shook his head, a look of realisation overcoming his face before he set off at a run.

Honour had been off hunting practically all day, keeping her distance as if she knew that the Tyrells weren't overly keen on her. Yet as they rounded the corner both Robb and Theon saw her stood by the entrance to the crypts, her nose pressed against the gap between the door and the floor, scratching at the wood with her huge paws before she let out another howl. The wolf heard their footsteps, and she looked up to them, whimpering to get their attention. Robb hurried over, scratching behind Honour's ears as he pulled the latch and yanking the door open.

Moonlight flooded in and he immediately saw Eddmina sat with her back against the inside wall of the descending staircase, her arms wrapped around her stomach as she had her eyes screwed shut. Even in the darkness he could tell she'd been crying. Robb wasn't sure, but the last time he could remember seeing her cry was when her betrothal got brought forward. She wasn't easily brought to tears and he immediately knew something was wrong, something other than their mother's letter. He knelt by her side and upon seeing him she let out a small gasp of relief, sitting forward and taking hold of both of his hands, squeezing them tightly.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking her up and down.

"Clearly not," she snapped, managing to roll her eyes. "You need to help me get out of here, and you need to find the Maester for me."

"Why, what's wrong?" he frowned, though he didn't need an answer as her forehead creased together in pain and she let out a small hiss taking one of her hands out of his to hold her stomach again. "Oh. Oh. I thought you weren't due for weeks still?"

"I thought so too," she said, attempting to offer him a dry smile but instead her expression faltered and she broke down into sobs. "I don't want to die! Robb, please, you have to help me! I don't want to die yet!"

At that moment Honour barged between the two of them, whining as she licked away at Eddmina's tears. She wrapped her arm around the wolf's neck while still holding her brother's hand, and Robb looked on, feeling completely out of his depth. He wasn't used to her having such moments of terror-filled emotional outbursts, so he didn't have much experience in how to deal with her.

"You're not going to die," he tried, but he knew she wasn't listening.

"I was meant to die months ago when that man came, he was meant to kill me, but I didn't die and now the gods have the perfect opportunity to take me," she explained, and everything seemed much clearer, Robb suddenly understanding his sister a lot more.

"Edd, look at me," he instructed, and she tore her eyes up from Honour to look at him, seeing how serious he was. "Fuck the gods. You're not going to die, we're not going to let you. Now come on, let me help you, lets get you out of here."

She took a few deep breaths, Honour moving away from her embrace but still watching closely as Robb helped lift Eddmina to her feet. Taking her hand, he wrapped her arm around her shoulder and helped her move out of the doorway of the crypts out onto the courtyard. She had been curled up in pain for that long her legs had seized up so she had most of her weight resting on Robb as guilty as she felt about it. That was when she saw Theon stood at the opposite side of the courtyard to the crypts, and despite previously feeling the remnants of anger regarding his actions, she felt it all disappear, glad to see him after her trials.

He'd stayed away to give the siblings time alone, time to talk, but that was before he'd seen her staggering out in obvious distress, and regardless of any dispute between the two of them he would rather kill someone than see her hurt. She watched as he ran over to them, shooting Robb a questioning look. Robb shook his head, and before he could gesture for help Theon moved to Eddmina's other side, allowing her to wrap her other arm around his shoulder, allowing him to help her even though it felt so wrong.

"Where's-" she began but cut herself off as a contraction hit her, grimacing before cursing loudly, "Gods!"

"He went looking for you," Robb explained, knowing exactly who she was asking for. Eddmina was too busy trying to breath through the pain to notice, but Robb saw Theon clench his jaw at the mention of Willas. "We'll get you safe to your room, then Theon'll go find him. Won't you?"

"If that's what Edd needs," he obliged bitterly. "Though maybe priority is finding Luwin? Last I checked Tyrell isn't capable of delivering a child."

"I know you're helping me... And I'm grateful... But if you insult my husband again I'll break your nose," Eddmina glared, her teeth gritted together.

The two of them managed to get her to her room without any further tension, and as Eddmina collapsed onto her bed, rolling onto her side and wrapping her arms around her stomach she sighed out in relief, Honour jumping up to join her, curling up at her side, while Robb and Theon stood off to the side, trying to figure out what to do first. It was then that she let out a long, low groan of pain, feeling as though she was being ripped apart, and she glanced over to the men to see them both looking utterly terrified.

"Perhaps one of you should go find the Maester?" she reminded them, trying to breath through the deep pressure within her. "Robb, will you... Will you go get Luwin, then will you go find Lady Alerie? Theon... I need... I need you to find Willas. Please. And then you need to go look after Bran and Rickon. I need you to make sure they're okay and they're not scared if they hear me scream."

"We're not leaving you like this," Robb argued, gesturing to her as she tensed up, biting her lip to supress a cry.

"Well you're both no help as you are right now," Eddmina groaned, making herself sit up, her back against the heavy wooden headboard of the bed. Honour shot up and moved to her side, her head resting on her shoulder. "Go. Please. I'll be alright now."

Robb didn't want to leave, not while his sister was clearly not alright, yet he also couldn't deny her request, knowing the Maester and Lady Tyrell would be far more help to her. He moved to her side, hugging her gently before he departed the room. Theon, however, remained stubbornly in the corner, as if he was desperate to drag out his time in the room before he had to go interact with the Tyrells who he didn't really care for much. Eddmina knew that, even in her situation she knew that there were a million other things that he would rather do than go and find Willas, yet she also knew he would do, regardless of his own feelings. Theon could be selfish, and he could be thoughtless, but he wouldn't deny her of that request.

"I don't want to leave you," he said, the protest weak. He offered a small smile, one that was reminiscent of their relationship a long time ago, the relationship that wasn't friendship and wasn't love. She couldn't help but smile back a little. "What do I tell him?"

"Tell him that I need him," she replied, knowing exactly who Theon meant, even if he couldn't bring himself to say Willas' name. "Tell him I am fine and he need not worry, but I want him by my side."

"Isn't that bad luck?" Theon pointed out, and she couldn't help but feel like he was only talking to her to put off the task at hand.

"I don't care, I love him," she said without thought, barely noticing the way his jaw twitched. "Please."

"Fine. For you," Theon sighed, going to the doorway, glancing back at her. "See you."

"Thank you... Theon!" She began until a thought came to her, and as she called his name he spun back to face her, concern obvious on his face. "If something happens to me... I just... Look after Robb. Please?"

"Of course," he nodded, but his voice sounded thick and he left as soon as he had spoken, as if her words had made him face a reality he wasn't ready to think about.

Being on her own in her chamber with Honour felt much safer than being on her own in the crypts. At least in her chamber she knew help was coming, at least she had seen her brother, at least she knew she wasn't going to die in the dark with no one but ghosts watching over her. Part of her worried that Theon was going to go back on his word. He could easily leave Winterfell and just go to a brothel like he usually did rather than find Willas, he had more than enough of a track record in not doing as she asked, but for some reason she just trusted him. He was Theon after all. He was a prick and he'd hurt her before, but she knew that with something big and serious like this, it wasn't in him to let her down.

Time seemed to slow as she was alone again. The contractions had slowed and felt far less severe, either that or she was just used to them. Feeling a bit of her strength come back, Eddmina managed to get to her feet, staggering over to the dressing table under the watchful gaze of Honour. She'd hung her nightgown over the back of her desk chair, and so with only a little struggle she managed to change out of her possibly ruined gown into the much more comfortable garment. Next she lowered herself into the chair, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked tired, her cheeks tinged a hot pink, her skin stained with sweat and tears. She looked a mess, and yet it had barely begun; how would she look by the time it was over? All the same, she began to braid back her hair. It wasn't as neat as her usual style, but she didn't have the energy to perfect it, and all she cared about was getting it all away from her face so she didn't truly care.

She searched for something to tie it off with, and rather than her usual leather bands that she knotted around the end of her braids, she instead picked up a strip of ribbon, sky blue and obviously something that used to belong to Sansa. How her sister's hair ribbon had ended up in her chamber she knew not, but she tied it around her braid, deciding with a tired smile that it was as if she was a knight, going to battle with her sister's favour. Maybe it would bring her strength, or luck, or whatever she so desperately needed.

As she was finishing the door opened and Honour protectively bounded off the bed and jumped to Eddmina's side, letting out a low growl until Lady Alerie revealed herself. The southern lady looked instantly horrified at the sight of the wolf, even if Honour sat on command, immediately quietening and wagging her tail upon realising she wasn't faced with a foe. Any concern Alerie seemed to have for Eddmina was replaced by slight fear over the wolf, and Eddmina placed her hand on Honour's neck, stroking her fingers through the thick fur.

"My dear, come, you'll be much more comfortable on the bed, let me help you," she offered, though she seemed wary to go near Honour. "Would you-"

"Honour, to the bed," Eddmina gestured, and she did as instructed hopping back to her last position. Alerie still didn't seem pleased. "She won't hurt you."

"It's not me I'm worried about," she sighed, offering her hand and helping Eddmina to her feet, assisting her to the bed though she daren't go near Honour. "I don't think she should be here, not while you're... in this condition."

"Honour would never hurt me," Eddmina shook her head, adjusting her position until she was moderately comfortable. She barely noticed the Maester walk in as she remembered the way the Tyrells wanted her to get rid of her wolf the night before, and she felt panic seize her. "I need her. I'd be dead if not for her."

"Eddmina, may I ask you just how Honour saved your life?" Alerie frowned, moving the desk chair to the bedside, taking a seat as she eyed the wolf carefully until she decided Eddmina was worth the risk. "You've said that a few times now. I feel as though there is a story we do not know."

Panic hit Eddmina again then, just as the pain reappeared. She bit her lip, holding back a cry of pain, though all she could think about was how she could get herself out of telling the truth, the truth that no one but the Starks were meant to know. She looked to Luwin, who clearly noticed her distress, not just her worry for telling Alerie exactly how the wolf had saved her life but the fear for reliving the memories.

"A few months ago shortly after Lord Stark went south there was an incident in which two hired killers entered Winterfell," the Maester spoke cautiously, knowing there was no avoiding the tale, knowing it was easier for him to say than Eddmina, who was already grimacing in pain. "One assassin for Lord Bran, who was still sleeping at the time, and another for Lady Edda. She tells the truth, if Honour had not come at the right time..."

"He held a knife to my throat, told me he'd get twice the gold for killing me since he'd be killing two, and then said he'd make it quick as he didn't like hurting ladies," she choked out as soon as she felt able to speak, not looking at Lady Alerie despite feeling her gaze burning into her. "I was as good as dead until Honour tore his throat out."

When she eventually dared to look to her goodmother she saw absolute horror, as well as burning rage, and for a split second she looked frightfully like Willas. That night had haunted her for so long it surprised Eddmina that she could still remember how cold the knife had been against her throat, and how her wrist burnt as he sprained it. She'd not realised she'd begun to cry until Alerie leant over and wiped her tears away with her thumb, and she noticed her face had changed from anger to pure sympathy.

"Oh, Eddmina," she breathed out, unsure of what to say. She took hold of one of her hands, squeezing it gently, before she turned to the Maester, a little of her anger returning. "How in Seven Hells did killers even get into the keep? And who would send them? Who would want them both dead?"

Eddmina shook her head, looking to Maester Luwin. There was so much that Alerie - and the rest of the Tyrells - didn't know, and Eddmina felt the guilt burning up inside of her. How would they react when they eventually learnt everything? It had been bad enough telling Willas and Garlan, especially since Garlan had been wary of the impact it would have on the Lannisters and their vicious need to maintain their reputation, and that had been before Lady Stark had been foolish enough to take Tyrion Lannister. How would the rest of them react? Eddmina couldn't face the awful truth that they had managed to badly hide from the Tyrells, and the fact she was having to think about it while also suffering agonising pain... She wished she was back in the crypts, hiding away from everything.

"Not too late, am I?" a voice called from the doorway, and even as a contraction wracked through her, Eddmina smiled as she saw Willas, still in his riding cloak, his hair mussed by wind, and looking as though he was desperately trying to hide how nervous he was.

"Did you know? About this attack?" Lady Alerie asked before Eddmina had the chance to call him to her side, but it didn't matter, not since his eyes landed on her regardless. He'd heard what had been said before his entrance, obvious from the way he swallowed uncomfortably.

"It doesn't matter, we've got more important things to focus on," he told her coolly, as if he'd practiced shaking off his mother's curiosity.

At his entrance, Honour jumped off the bed, her tail wagging as he stroked her head, and she settled herself on the floor in the corner of the room, curling up in a ball as if trying to seem as little trouble as possible, though she didn't take her gaze away from Eddmina. Willas took his place next to Eddmina on the bed, taking hold of her hand, squeezing it before kissing her knuckles, using his other hand to stroke her hair. He wasn't always the easiest to read, but somehow, Eddmina knew that he knew everything. She opened her mouth to ask him subtly, but he nodded simply, and that said enough.

"Willas-" Lady Alerie tried again, clearly still torn over the whole matter, frowning as she looked at the couple, trying to figure out just how many secrets they held, and how many of them were deathly crucial.

"We'll tell you everything, I promise," he spoke, looking to Eddmina as she tensed. "None of it is anything to worry over, but it's not important now. Let us focus on Mina, give us three days, and then we will tell you all everything that has happened."

Willas was a good liar, as 'everything' was definitely a cause for worry, but somehow his words worked, and not only did Lady Alerie take her seat once more, but Eddmina also felt compelled to believe his calm nature. She glanced to the Maester, as if looking for permission to forget everything else that had happened to the Starks in the months previous, considering it was him who had shown her Lady Stark's letter, and he nodded at her.

In fact, once she allowed herself the luxury of forgetting the danger that surrounded the Starks, she almost felt relieved, until another sharp contraction brought her back to reality and reminded her she still had plenty to worry over.

***

The moon had departed them and the sun rose in it's place, and despite the hours that had ticked by, Eddmina was no closer to the end of her pain.

It was gruelling and tiring, and Eddmina wished for nothing but sleep. She wished for nothing but peace, but the gods would not allow her of that. They may not want her dead, but they certainly wanted her to suffer plenty, her pain reparations for her mere existence. Still though, she held back screams, refusing to have Winterfell echo with her strife. When Lady Stark had children, even the villagers of Winter Town knew, and Eddmina refused to follow by example for as long as she could, remembering the fear she had felt hiding under her bed each time she gained a new sibling, instead thinking her mother was being murdered. It was bad enough she was suffering, she wouldn't scare her little brothers, she wouldn't let Robb think she was dying the way they often thought Lady Stark was.

The Tyrells had come prepared, paying two young female healers handsomely to act as midwives, and while they had stationed themselves in the nearest village until they were needed, Garlan had proved himself useful by riding out and collecting them. At first Eddmina felt coldly towards the idea, not wanting anyone else in the room with her. Surely the Maester was enough, and she had Willas and Alerie either side of her, what use would two extras be? She thought that until she met the women, and they both made themselves useful with kind smiles that weren't overly sympathetic. The last stranger Eddmina had encountered in her chambers had tried to kill her, and though she initially struggled to trust them, they quickly put her mind at ease.

"I grew up in a keep an hour away from Lanisport," one of them explained, a tall dainty blonde named Heathyr, her grey dress' sleeves rolled up to reveal pale, freckled skin. "I was the youngest of eight children with four other daughters, my parents had more than enough to marry off so they didn't mind when I asked to study healing rather than dancing."

"And you?" Willas asked the other woman, unsurprisingly curious about the women intended to care for his wife, especially as the two women seemed so different in appearance.

"My name's Talisa," she answered with a small smile, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear as it fell from her braid. She was truly beautiful, with big dark eyes and tanned skin that suggested she was from anywhere but Winterfell. "I was born in Volantis and grew up there until I came of age when I decided to travel to Westeros and train as a healer."

"I always wanted to go to Volantis," Eddmina recalled a map of Essos she had seen as a child, picking out cities and imagining the adventures she could have there; after Braavos, Volantis would have been the place she and Willas travelled to next. "I'm sure in comparison Winterfell is a bit of a shock."

"I rather like it," she commented, and Eddmina could tell she wasn't just being polite. "It's not as cold as I thought it would be."

"It's not as bad as any southerner makes it out to be," Willas remarked, squeezing his wife's hand as she let out a single laugh that soon turned into a groan of pain.

"I don't think I would care much to live here during Wintertimes, but I must admit the North has a charm to it," Alerie said, and Eddmina bit back another laugh.

"See what happens when you southerners step out of your comfort zone," she muttered, arching her back as another wave of pain dialled off ever so slightly.

Contractions came and went, the pain feeling as though it was never-ending. It got worse with each hour that passed, exhaustion setting in deeper until her whole body ached as if she had been running for days. She was certain she could run all the way to King's Landing and not be as tired as she felt in labour, yet there was no chance for rest.

Her progress was slow, never quite ready to begin pushing each time the maester and midwives examined her, but the pains were getting closer together. Maester Luwin said it was a good thing, but she wanted him to feel them himself before he made such a comment. Still, she was determined not to cry, not to make a fuss, she didn't want to scream and be silly about it, but each time a contraction seized her she was certain it would be the end of her.

"I'm so proud of you," Willas whispered in her ear, pushing another soft kiss to her sweat-riddled temple. "You're doing brilliantly."

Eddmina didn't have the energy to tell Willas she thought he had never been more wrong, so kept quiet. Desperate to stretch her legs, and with the Maester's suggestion that it might help move things along, Lady Alerie held Eddmina's hands and helped her pace around the room slowly. Meanwhile Willas, desperate to be useful, attempted to assist the maester, though there was nothing to be done, and as another sharp pain hit her he moved to her side so quickly he almost strained his leg. He held her close, kissed her hairline and whispered just how much he loved her, all the while he mentally cursed himself for putting her in such an arduous position.

They decided to change position, and so Willas sat on their bed with his back against the headboard, allowing Eddmina to lay between his legs, her back to his chest. She was in the perfect position to bury her face into the crook of his neck, and she so desperately relied on that, wanting to hide herself away from the world and the pain. There was no hiding though, because not even Willas could make such a situation better. Still, she was glad for him, certain her mind would have spiralled into pain-induced hysterics without him. It was good for the both of them sitting like that, with Willas feeling as though he could be of more use to her with his arms wrapped around her, closer to her as she struggled onwards.

She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how dear he was to her, yet as she parted her lips to speak nothing came out but a small cry of pain that she attempted to bite back but it was too late, suddenly overwhelmed by just how much it hurt. Surely it would be over soon? Surely she was nearly done, for she didn't know how much more she could take.

"How much longer?" Willas asked, practically reading her thoughts as his gaze landed on Maester Luwin who was in the middle of examining her. He didn't know how much longer he could take seeing his wife in such a state, and as no one answered him for a few moments he caught sight of the midwives' frowns. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No," the Maester said, but caught sight of Eddmina looking at him with a raised eyebrow and knew there was no lying to her. "We merely thought you would be further along by now, but I think you still have a while to go."

"As blunt as this sounds, it will get worse before it gets better," Heathyr told her, and she rolled her head back to rest on Willas' shoulder, shutting her eyes to fight off the urge to break into sobs.

"Don't be discouraged, dear," Alerie said calmly, rubbing Eddmina's arm. Eddmina wondered if her own mother would be as kind and helpful, or if Lady Tyrell was actually the perfect maternal figure to have at her side. "You're doing so well. Besides, babes come at their own pace."

The last comment wasn't really helpful, but Eddmina didn't have the heart to tell Alerie that, not while she was otherwise a wonderful presence in the room. Besides, she hadn't said anything that she didn't already know. When her aunt Lysa had told her so long ago about how much of an unwanted burden she was in the family, she hadn't spared any details about how long Eddmina had taken to come into the world.

"All that time, only to be a disappointment," her aunt had sneered. "It was a good job the boy came soon after and made it worthwhile."

She had been eight. Who tells an eight year old such things? As the memory appeared in her mind, as clear as if it had occurred yesterday, Eddmina wondered how she hadn't cried. She had merely stood there, allowing her Aunt to speak before she calmly asked to be dismissed, and even then she didn't cry, not as she hid in the library. How had she not cried? How had she just carried on as if her aunt had merely told her the weather forecast? Somehow at the age of eight she had known her aunt's cruelty was coming from a place of bitter hurt, that she was merely resentful of Eddmina's mother and her vast family and was taking it out on the nearest person at the moment. Even so, thinking back, Eddmina couldn't understand how at that age she'd held her composure. Perhaps if she had cried then she wouldn't still feel the pain of it, perhaps it wouldn't be such a phantom over her as an adult.

"Will, promise me..." she began, knowing they had definitely already spoken of such matters, but she needed him to tell her again. "If it's a girl, you'll still love her. You'll still love me."

"I love you, I promise," he told her seriously. She could tell that he had so much more to say, so much more that would feel ridiculous given the moment, and so he stuck to simplicity, kissing her forehead as her head rested against his shoulder, angled upwards so she could look into his eyes. "Have you got any names?"

"I'm not sure..." she shook her head, thinking of the list she had started to make, the list she had left at the desk of her old bedroom. She hadn't thought of names since the night of the attack, but in the moment one occurred to her. "How would you feel about Lyanna? For my Aunt?"

"I think it's a wonderful idea," he told her, kissing her again. Perhaps one day she would tell him that it was by her Aunt Lyanna's tomb that her pains started, but she didn't have the energy, so she merely smiled back at him, though it didn't last long as she let out another small cry of pain, squeezing his hand tightly. "After all of this I'm considering telling you to choose the name regardless of gender."

"Don't do that to me," she groaned quietly, making him chuckle as he pushed a few gentle kisses to her temple.

The thought of thinking up names seemed more painful than the contractions themselves. She could hear Willas discussing names with his mother, but Eddmina wasn't listening, she couldn't focus. She knew that if her mother was there she would be suggesting all sorts of Riverlands names or names with history to house Tully, but her mother wasn't there. For a moment she felt so alone, but then she felt Willas stroke her hand softly and heard him whisper in her ear of how brave she was being, and she felt alright again, if not only for a few moments. Any feeling of 'alright' was immediately eliminated when the next contraction took hold of her.

By the time the maester had finally decided she was ready to begin pushing Eddmina was utterly exhausted. She didn't even feel as though she could stay awake, her head swimming as she had to force herself to keep her eyes open, and one of the midwives - she couldn't tell which - was having to hold her legs in the right position. All the while she'd been labouring she'd managed not to scream, though it began to feel impossible. Once a cry left her lips she felt her chest begin to heave, and before she could stop herself she was sobbing.

It hurt so much, she had been in so much pain for so long. It didn't matter what Robb had said to her in the crypts, that conversation feeling like a lifetime ago. It didn't matter, because she knew she was going to die. How could she not, after such awful agony, death was surely the only end result. Not to mention she could see the serious expression on the maester's face. The last tiem she had seen him look like that was after Bran's accident, when she saw him three days later, after he had been working endlessly to save her little brother's life. She felt another sob rise up in her chest, and it didn't help when she felt Willas' wipe her tears away.

"Is there nothing you can do? Nothing you can give her to help the pain?" he demanded, sounding both as angry and as nervous as she had ever heard him. No one answered, so he turned his focus back to her, softening again. "You're going to be alright, you're going to be well and pain-free soon, I promise you."

"Willas-" she tried, wanting so depserately to tell him how badly she disagreed with him, but she didn't have the energy. "My Willas..."

"My Eddmina," he echoed, squeezing her hand and kissing her forehead. "Don't look at anything, alright? Just look at me. Keep looking at me, alright?"

She nodded, and did just so. Even when the midwives instructed her to push, she did exactly as she was told, but didn't tear her eyes away from her husband, even when her gaze became blurred by tears. She didn't stop looking at him, even when she could smell something a little like blood. She didn't stop looking at him even when she could hear tense words exchanged between the maester and the midwives. Surely nothing bad would happen while ever she was looking at Willas. She wasn't sure if she would ever want to stop looking at him. She loved him, and she didn't want to leave him, ever. What a wonderful man he was. How lucky was she, she thought, to know this man, to be married to him, to love him, and how even luckier she was that he loved her too. He would be a brilliant father. She wished she could say the same for herself and motherhood.

She didn't even look away from him when she gave one last push and heard a sharp cry echo around the room. She felt as though she couldn't, even when the agony subsided, even when she heard everyone else in the room laugh with joy and when Willas beamed at her as he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, anywhere he could reach. Lady Alerie was squeezing her hand too, leaning over to press a tearful kiss on her cheek before repeating the gesture with Willas. Even so, Eddmina struggled to look anywhere but her husband's face.

Her trance only seemed to be broken when she realised Willas was no longer looking at her, but at Maester Luwin stood at her bedside, holding a tiny, screaming bundle. He seemed to be smiling. Surely nothing could be wrong if he was smiling, as outrageous as that thought seemed to be to her.

"Lady Edda, would you like to hold your son?" he offered to her, and it took a moment for the words to register within her.

"My... It's a boy?" Eddmina asked, looking between the maester and Willas.

"It's a boy," the maester confirmed with a nod, and without another word laid the baby down onto her chest.

Everything seemed to crash down onto Eddmina then, a sudden shock of realisation rushing over her as she looked down at the still-crying child on her chest. He was hers, she had a son. a sudden rush of instinct took over her as she placed her hands on him, rubbing him gently as if to comfort him, as if to stop him crying, feeling more protective than she ever had in her whole life. He was hers, and she needed to protect him. She could feel herself trembling, any adrenaline she had felt in the last few hours leaving her as she realised her new responsibility. Part of her was surprised at how little fear she felt. She thought she'd feel terrified holding her child for the first time, but how could she feel anything but a huge rush of love.

She leant down and placed her lips to the top of his head gently, closing her eyes as she savoured the feel of him, trying not to cry for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

"Hello, little love," she whispered to him softly, allowing a smile to grow before she tore her eyes from him, looking back up to Willas. "Are you pleased?"

He didn't speak for a moment, his gaze flicking between his wife and his son, his expression serious. She noted how exhausted he looked, as if the experience had been taxing on them both. He swallowed nervously, before placing his hands on top of hers.

"I'm so, so in love with you," he told her, looking at her as if she was his most treasured thing in his whole life. "Well done, my love."

***

Robb had lost count of the hours that he had spent sat on the hard stone floor outside his sister's room. The night of their nameday had obviously ticked away and if the small window at the end of the corridor was any signifier of how much time had passed, it was most likely mid-morning of the next day. A  few servants had tried to get him to move as the hours had passed, but he refused. Even if he felt sick waiting, unknowing as to what was happening with his sister, listening out for every little sound to know if she was alright, he couldn't bare to go anywhere else.

He'd been awake for so long his eyes stung, and after a while he had given up on staring at the door expecting it to open so he had instead rested his forehead onto the top of his knees. He'd considered going to sleep but every time he shut his eyes he heard something from the room, something like a cry or a scream, but it was always quiet and hushed to the point Robb was never quite sure if he'd actually heard it, but it was always enough to put him just on edge, making him feel wide awake once more.

Perhaps the whole thing would be more bearable if Eddmina hadn't told Robb how scared she was, as her fears repeated in his mind endlessly. He was sure he would feel nervous even if she hadn't told him, but it felt so much worse not knowing what was going on. He knew she wouldn't die, she couldn't, he refused to believe that, but not being with her made his imagination run wild to the point that his thoughts kept going back to what she had said. He always knew how much he loved his sister, but it was only when he was sat outside of her room that he realised just how much he needed her. He'd have been lost without her over the last few months while their parents had been gone, and he was certain he hadn't told her nearly enough how much he valued her.

When the door opened, Robb shot to his feet, jumping off the stone floor at such speed he almost jarred himself. Pins and needles raced throughout his whole body as he realised he'd not stood up for such a long time. He tried to desperately glance through the gap to see into his sister's room but Lady Alerie was in the doorway blocking his view, and as soon and she stepped out of the room she shut the door behind herself. The Lady of Highgarden appeared exhausted, but she was beaming, her eyes glistening with tears and excitement, and as she opened her arms out to Robb he fell into her embrace in relief. She wouldn't seem so happy if his sister had been harmed, after all. He'd never even really spoken to Lady Alerie a great amount before, but she was the greatest comfort to him, and he understood exactly why Eddmina liked her goodmother so much.

"Eddmina is alright," she told him as if sensing all of his worries. "She's done so amazingly well, you should be so proud of her."

"Thank you for being with her," he told her, feeling relief wash over her. "Can I see her?"

"Not quite yet," she smiled at him reassuringly, squeezing her arm. She was so kind it almost took him back. "Give her some time to rest but I'm sure you'll be able to see her soon. If you'll excuse me, I better go tell everyone else the news."

With that she excused herself and went off down the corridor in the direction of the rooms currenty occupied by the other Tyrells. In relief Robb sank back down to the floor, thanking all the gods who cared to listen that his sister was alright. He was so relieved he barely registered the fact he had forgotten to ask if he had a niece or a nephew. Even without that, he couldn't help the smile that had appeared on his face.

He must have dropped off to sleep shortly after, as he only woke up when he heard the door open again. Hours must have passed surely, as when he glanced down the corridor to the window the sky looked vastly different. He looked up to the doorway to see the Maester looking down at him with an amused smile, and stood behind him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She must have been one of Eddmina's midwives, but she was truly captivating, with long dark hair and dark eyes that had him stunned the moment they fell on him. She noticed his gaze and smirked slightly, though he also noticed how her eyes lingered on him too.

"My Lord, I'm not sure that is the most comfortable of places to sleep," Luwin pointed out jokingly, and Robb stood immediately, his eyes never leaving the new woman.

"Is Edda alright?" Robb managed to pull his gaze from the woman as he remmbered the situation at hand, remembering how badly he wanted to see Eddmina.

"She's well, but tired," he told him, patting his shoulder as he understood the bond the twins shared before he left in the direction of his chambers, most likely to get some well-deserved rest, thus leaving Robb and the beautiful woman alone.

"Hello," he managed to say after what felt like a lifetime, hating how hot his face felt as he tried to think of what to say to her. "Can I go in?"

"I don't think they want visitors yet," she answered seriously, though she seemed amused at him for some reason. "Lord Tyrell said his family had to wait until later to see them."

"Well I'm not his family," Robb tried not to snap but struggled, looking round her to see if there was any way he could get past and through the door without shoving her or being rude. "I want to see my sister."

"You must be Lord Robb then," she said with a smile, seemingly looking him up and down. "Lady Tyrell said if I saw you that you were welcome to go in."

"Oh," Robb said, mostly floored by the fact she had referred to his sister as 'Lady Tyrell'; he'd never officially heard her be called that. "Thank you. May I know your name?"

"Talisa, my Lord," she smirked at him, clearly enjoying how flustered he had become. "Lady Tyrell will be wanting to see you."

Even with his need to see Eddmina, Robb felt a little disappointed when Talisa opened the door for him, gesturing him to go inside and signalling that their - albiet short - conversation was over. His disappointment quickly died though the moment he caught sight of his sister sat up in her bed, Willas Tyrell sat at her side, looking at her with utter adoration while her direwolf was curled up at the couple's feet. Eddmina looked exhausted yet she was beaming proudly at the bundle in Willas' arms, though the moment she heard the door open she looked up and offered Robb a welcoming grin, beckoning him in.

"Come and meet your nephew," she said, and quickly Robb's smile matched hers.

Before he knew it he had crossed the room and was sat in the seat by her side. Carefully, as if he was holding the most delicate of parcels, Willas laid the baby back down into Eddmina's arms so Robb could see, and he smiled again. Even only hours after birth, he looked so much like Eddmina. He had thick dark hair and a nose that resembled hers, and though his eyes were shut as he slept peacefully Robb imagined them a bright Tully blue, just like theirs. He wondered for a moment if there was any Tyrell in him, or if this little boy was to be a wolf of the Reach.

"Are you alright?" Robb asked her, tearing his eyes away from the baby to look at her.

"Alright enough," she nodded. "Apparently I lost a bit of blood, but I'm still alive, so there's nothing to complain about."

Willas chuckled as he pushed a gentle kiss to his wife's temple. Robb was certain he'd never seen a more affectionate couple, or a couple more in love. He wondered if he and his future wife would be like that, and before he could stop himself his mind drifted to the woman he had met minutes before, recalling just how beautiful she was. He stopped himself quickly, turning his attention back to Eddmina.

"What will you call him?" he asked, leaning over to get a better look at his nephew.

"We haven't decided yet," Eddmina replied tiredly, though her eyes lit up as she looked down at her son, a smile unlike any other on her face. "It was Willas' call, but he's changed his mind."

"I just think you went through all that, you should at least be allowed the privilege of naming him," Willas remarked, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped out of her braid behind her ear softly.

"I go through all that physical suffering and now you put me under further turmoil to come up with a name?" She joked, looking to her husband with a raised eyebrow until she beamed at him. "I just think you've thought of too many flowery names and now he's born looking more Stark than Tyrell you don't want me laughing at your suggestions."

"You wound me," he replied dryly, placing his hand over his heart. "We could always name him after Oberyn, like he requested."

"As if your family need anymore reason to dislike me," she joked dryly as she rolled her eyes. Despite knowing she was kidding Willas sighed and kissed her hairline again. Eddmina tried to supress a yawn as she looked to her brother. "I'm sure we'll think of something soon enough. It's definitely not our nameday anymore then?"

"No," he shook his head. She had been labouring for many hours, no wonder she had lost track.

"Good, it's bad enough we have to share, I don't think it'd be fair to expect him to as well," she said, before biting her lip nervously as she looked at Robb. "Has there been any word? From mother? Or father? Or anyone?"

"Nothing yet," he told her, shaking his head, and though it was true he knew that if he had actually heard any news he wouldn't tell her, not yet, not after all she had been through. "Try not to think about it. It'll probably result in nothing."

"He's right," Willas agreed, stroking her cheek. "Lets just put that damned letter out of all our minds for now, alright?"

Reluctantly, Eddmina nodded, sighing as she looked at her son. Maybe they were right, maybe she had worried for nothing, but now she had much bigger things to focus on.

***

Word count: 10042

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