The nightmare had been horrific, yet somehow Eddmina had managed not to scream or cry out, instead just waking in a cold sweat, wrapped up in Willas' arms.

He was still sound asleep, still softly snoring, unknowing that his wife was shaking and on the verge of tears as her mind forced her to relive the dream she had just suffered. She was fine with that, knowing her dreams had made him suffer enough in the past, yet selfishly she wished she'd woken him just to hear him tell her she was safe. He was the voice of reason that always pulled her back from the edge of darkness after a nervous attack or a nightmare, and with him still sleeping, she had no choice but to battle through it alone. She couldn't move for a while, practically paralysed by fear, but when she could, she knew she didn't want to go anywhere. Nowhere was safer than Willas' arms, nowhere was warmer, or more peaceful.

There was no such thing as warmth in the halls of the Twins, or in the bedchambers, or the cells down below... As the specific details of the nightmare began to fade the more her mind came to, the details of why she had been in the cells and rooms to know how cold it was slipped, no matter how hard she fought to remember it. It was impossible to forget how cold she had been though, or how all she had heard was screams. She couldn't remember why she was cold, or who had been screaming and for what reason, which was the next thing that bothered her. The nightmare of seeing her father's execution had been crystal clear and she could still remember every detail, as she could with so many others. Willas in his research of Green-seers had told her that dreams had meaning, so how was she supposed to know the meaning of a dream that slipped so quickly from her mind?

She sighed, screwing her eyes shut tight as if willing herself to slip back asleep and into the nightmare. It was reckless and ridiculous, given that her heart hadn't settled back to normal, but at least if she went back she could understand it, she might remember it. No such luck, as it was almost like the dream had never happened. It must have though, as she was still shivering, and someone's scream was echoing through her head.

Perhaps it was a sign to not go to the Twins. Perhaps it was her longing of not leaving Willas and Uther driving her to madness, making up signs of ill-intentions to not go. Either way, it was annoying, as she was so tired that sleep was so desperately wanted, yet now her mind was buzzing and would not settle again. She tried to lay there, thinking of all the possibilities of what the dream could mean, but in truth none of them mattered. In the end, she would still be going to the Twins. To say a dream had put her off made her sound like a mad woman, and if a dream drove her to not attending then that would only impact those who did go. She had no choice, even if her mind was searching for ways out of it.

She stayed in Willas' embrace for a little while longer, until she could no longer bare to be in bed. Rising carefully, desperate not to wake or disturb him, Eddmina got up and wrapped a robe around herself, barely noticing that it was not hers but her husband's, and quietly slipped out of the room. Honour had been curled up outside the bedchamber door, where she could guard both Eddmina and Uther's rooms, yet at the sound of her coming out she jerked awake, jumping to her feet and bounding over to her, tail wagging as she walked in circles around her. It was as if she'd not seen her mistress for days, as if she had been separated from her for a long time and was finally being reunited.

"Have you been dreaming too, my girl?" Eddmina whispered to the wolf, kneeling in front of her so she could scratch her ears and fuss her properly. In response, Honour pushed her cold wet nose against her cheek and licked at her face. "You don't happen to remember it, do you? Or do you just feel scared for the sake of it too?"

Honour answered with another lick to her cheek, one that made Eddmina laugh softly and pull the wolf in close, kissing at the top of her head. When she was alone with her, Eddmina almost forgot who she was and who she was meant to be. She felt as if she was still just a girl, a child spending time with a beloved pet. Maybe it was because Honour made her feel so safe that she could afford to let her guard down a little and not worry over so much, or maybe it was because her father and brothers had been right. The direwolves had been a gift from the old gods, sent as protectors and extensions of themselves. She loved her so dearly that it didn't particularly matter, and so Eddmina merely petted her, burying her hands into the fur of her neck, drawing the wolf close so she could rest her forehead against Honour's.

"I do not deserve you," she whispered. Honour let out a grumbled whine, as if disagreeing. "You're too good for us all, girl."

Eddmina rose to her feet, glad when Honour stayed close and followed her all the way to her study. As Eddmina moved about the little room to light some candles and find parchment and ink, the direwolf watched her closely, only to hop up onto her lap the moment Eddmina took a seat behind the desk.

"You are too big, girl," Eddmina laughed, barely able to see the surface of the desk from behind the wolf's back. "You stopped being little enough for this a long time ago."

Her father's words echoed in her mind: 'this one still thinks she's a pup.' If only her father could see her now, if only he knew the things the wolf had done to keep her safe. He had laughed at her antics in the godswood, probably thinking her soft and spoilt, treated like a regular dog, but she had turned out quite the opposite.

With a frustrated huff Honour eventually jumped down, but insisted on resting her head on Eddmina's lap and sitting on her feet. That was fine, as it at least meant she could get on with her writing, setting about in crafting two letters. One for Willas, one for Uther. It had been the dream, the fear of the screams driving her to write something - just in case - but she had no real reason why she needed to. She would be fine and safe, and returned to them only two weeks after their own arrival in Highgarden. A letter of just in case felt foolish and like she was proposing danger, and if Willas knew she was writing a letter of goodbye just in case he would refuse to let her leave his side.

That was why when they were done, she planned to give them to someone else for safe keeping, someone else going back to Highgarden. She planned to go and find Leonette, forgetting that her goodsister would most definitely still be asleep, but before she had chance she heard the door creak open and someone clear their throat, and she looked up to see her mother. She was looking at her with curious concern, and was also still dressed in a nightgown and robe.

"Shouldn't you still be in bed?" Lady Stark asked. "You need your rest, you should-"

"Thank you, mother, but I couldn't sleep," she replied, looking back down at her letters, checking for smudges or spelling errors. "I could say the same for you. You were still up when we retired, what time did you go to sleep?"

"Not too much longer after," her mother said, coming into the study. "I was talking with Lady Tyrell, she kept assuring me of how welcome I will be in Highgarden, and how glad she is that I will get to be with you this time after missing so much the last time."

"I know you said you're coming with me south, but I know you would rather be with Robb or Sansa," Eddmina said, setting her quill down and looking at her mother properly. "I want you with me, but I know you're more scared for them."

"I'm scared for you all," her mother confessed, sounding tired. "I dreamed of Winterfell tonight. I saw you all as children again, Robb still with a wooden sword and you with a practice bow. You were all there, all of you happy. That is all I want, for you all to be happy again."

"I am happy with Willas, and I will be happy for good once all of this mess is over," Eddmina told her. "You deserve happiness too, perhaps more than the rest of us."

"We're very grateful that you're coming with us to the wedding, your brother especially," her mother said, as if knowing what was going unsaid; that Eddmina was dreading to leave her family. Eddmina watched as her mother looked down at the desk before meeting her gaze once more. "And I am looking forward to Highgarden."

Eddmina raised a single eyebrow as she considered telling her mother that she had the exact same tell as Bran, that the pair of them both looked down before they lied. She was glad she decided against voicing her observation, knowing the devastation it would have caused, and so instead she forced a smile, and finished up what she was doing. She sealed both letters, wrote the names of recipients onto the front, then once the ink was dry slid them into the pocket of Willas' robe, wrapping it around herself a little tighter as she shivered.

"Did you not think to light a fire when you came in here?" Lady Stark asked, sighing when Eddmina shrugged. "For such a clever girl I wish you would think more of looking after yourself."

Eddmina shrugged again, though her smile was no longer forced. It felt nice to be complimented, nice to be looked after. She rose to her feet, her mother doing the same, and Honour bounded up, her tail wagging as she looked at Eddmina expectantly.

"She's attentive this morning," Lady Stark remarked as the pair of them left the study and began to walk back to Eddmina's chambers, their arms linked, while Honour walked alongside, so close to Eddmina that she was almost knocking her over. "Perhaps she knows you're leaving her behind."

"It's for the best, I'd rather her go with Willas," Eddmina said, her hand resting on Honour's head, petting at her fur as they walked. "He loves her, he'll take good care of her, and if I'm to leave Uther it's like assigning him with his own personal guard."

"Your brother thought the same, he's sending Grey Wind North with Sansa," Lady Stark nodded. "Best for the Freys not to see the wolves."

Eddmina was glad her mother agreed, but by then they had reached Eddmina's chamber, and she caught Lady Stark's gaze wandering to the door across the hall; Sansa's rooms. Any focus on their conversation had gone, and Eddmina knew her mother was instead thinking of her middle daughter, the one riding north to reclaim their homeland. Trivial conversation about wolves and the Reach no longer mattered, because Eddmina knew if she was in her mother's position, she would much rather be spending time with Sansa. She was the daughter she had already lost once, after all, and she was the daughter she may never see again if things did not go to plan in the North.

"Go," Eddmina stated, gesturing to the door. Her mother looked reluctant and surprised, but it didn't stop her from unlooping their arms. "I will see you soon enough."

Lady Stark did not take much convincing. Eddmina was glad, because if her mother had followed her into her own chambers she'd see how unprepared she was to leave with her things still scattered about the room and hardly anything in her trunks. Instead she went into Sansa's room, and Eddmina was left to finish packing. She expected to find Willas still sleeping, but he was in fact not there at all, and she assumed he was in the stables preparing their horses, so she got on with her packing. One trunk was to return to Highgarden with the Tyrells, while another smaller one was to go with her to the Twins and on her journey down south. She packed her warmer dresses into her travelling trunk, as well as one nice gown for the wedding, while the rest of her things went into the main trunk, including the robe she was wearing. It was Willas', after all, so she slipped it off and put it into the trunk, but not before folding it up neatly and bringing it close to her face, inhaling and taking in its smell. It smelt of him, a specific aroma she couldn't name yet knew it was the smell of home.

Other than clothes there was not much to pack, and when it was all in the trunks she couldn't help but look around the room in dismay. Riverrun had been their home, their stability, their safety. It had been their lives for months, and she hadn't let herself consider feeling sad about leaving it behind. It had been hard to leave Winterfell for the first time, less so when they left for war, but leaving Riverrun was different, as if she was saying goodbye to a specific part of her life that she had not even realised she was living. She tried to distract herself from the stinging ache of dread by getting ready, braiding her hair back and dressing in black riding clothes. It didn't matter that she wouldn't be getting in the saddle, she still wanted to look the part, and simply because she had to, she placed the circlet crown on her head.

She finished just in time to hear Uther waking up, and was glad for another distraction as she dashed to his room, quick to scoop him up out of bed and hug him close. Yet, he was not a distraction, as she soon realised when she felt him bury his face into the crook of her neck, a gesture he'd done right from the very beginning. A wave of sickness rolled over her, as well as the desire to scream and sob. She might not have to hand him over to the Freys, but she was going to have to leave him to placate them, and it didn't matter if their separation was only for a few weeks. She bit her lip, desperate to not cry in front of him even if he was unaware of it, and tried to keep herself calm.

Was that how her mother felt, leaving Bran and Rickon? She too had left thinking it would be a few weeks, she'd left Winterfell thinking it was a temporary absence, yet her brothers were dead and their home lost. What if she wasn't just leaving Uther for a few weeks, what if it ended up being longer, what if something happened, what if...

"Enough," she told herself outloud, firmly and almost angry, making Uther let out a grunt of surprise at her outburst. "Sorry, my lad. I'm sorry. Gods, I'm sorry for everything."

Did she ever actually do anything except apologise to her son for the mess he'd been born into? Did she ever feel like anything except for a failure? She pinched the bridge of her nose with her spare hand, wanting to laugh when she considered how it was a gesture Willas did when he was stressed. She took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself, and just in time too, as two Stark guards appeared in the doorway, bowing their heads at her.

"Your grace," one of them addressed. He was young, younger than the guards in Winterfell used to be; she supposed that was due to the fact that all the older ones were now dead. "We're sorry to intrude, but..."

"Ser Willas has asked for you," the other finished, though they both glanced at each other. They seemed reluctant, as if even they knew that she did not want to leave. "The coach for the Reach is ready to leave."

She nodded, not trusting her voice to not shake if she spoke. She was glad that both guards busied themselves with her luggage rather than focusing on her, purely because it meant she could wipe away her single tear without anyone noticing. Anyone, except for Uther, who looked at her with a frown. He tried to say something, but it was as nonsensical as always, and as if he realised that, he instead patted his hands against her cheeks. If it hadn't made her laugh, it might've made her cry more. She took one last look around his nursery, thinking a silent thanks for the safety it had provided, and turned to leave, only stopping to make sure his toy wolf was tucked under her arm.

"You're going on a trip with your father, little love," she told him, trying to make her voice sound as positive as possible as she kissed the top of his head, making her way down the corridors of the keep heading towards the courtyard. "You remember all those stories we told you about your home, Highgarden? Well your father is going to take you there, and I'll be joining you both in a few weeks. You'll have your grandmother, and your Uncle Loras and Aunt Leonette, too, they'll keep you safe. When you get home you'll get to see your great-grandmother again, and your Aunt Margaery, and I believe there's a whole herd of Tyrell cousins thrilled to meet you. It is such a beautiful place, my boy, you will love it. The sun shines every day, it hardly ever rains unlike here. The Mander shines bright blue, and it's warm enough to swim in. The gardens are so vast that you can so easily get lost, and I'm sure your father will introduce you to everyone, including all of his pets. He's got plenty of horses, birds, and dogs. The hounds are all named after butterflies, your father is very clever like that, and I'm sure they'll all get on well with Honour. She'll keep you safe too, she always does."

She had talked to him about Highgarden the whole way to the courtyard that she barely noticed when they arrived. She had to bite her lip once more when she saw the carriage waiting to take the Tyrells away, all of their guards already mounted on their horses. The servants of Riverrun were still busying themselves in packing away luggage, but there were several other wagons and coaches being prepared, and Eddmina assumed they were for the Northern cause and the party for the Twins. Too much was happening at once, and it was easy to be overwhelmed, but before she had the chance to feel it properly, she spotted Willas tending to Flint, her horse attached to the coach she assumed was hers.

It would have been easy for him to never go near horses again after his joust, but she was glad it hadn't put him off, because he was incredibly handsome when he was frowning in focus while working. He was tightening some strap on Flint's bridle, speaking to her in a hushed voice as if she could understand him, though when Eddmina approached he stopped, and turned to her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes and didn't hide the sudden look of dispairing worry that he quickly tried to get rid of.

"Good morning, my loves," he greeted them as if it was any other day, pushing a quick kiss to her cheek. "You should have woken me when you got up. Are you well?"

"Fine," she told him quickly, though if he caught her lie then he didn't say anything, didn't even frown. "Is everything ready?"

"As ready as it can be," he nodded, trying to be business-like and diplomatic, both of them acting as if it was a normal situation and that they were just spending the day apart, though something gave way in him then as he sighed, his jaw tensing. "Darling, are you sure about this?"

"If you question me, I will break," she told him firmly, her voice dropping so only he could hear. "Don't, please. There are too many people, I can't cry here, I don't want to, I-"

He quietened her quickly, placing his hand on her shoulder and drawing her close, kissing her forehead. He sighed again, before moving his head down so that his forehead was resting against hers, and suddenly it didn't matter that so many people were in the courtyard. With the arm that wasn't holding Uther, she wrapped herself around his waist, wanting to be as close to him as possible, letting him envelop her into a tight embrace.

How long until their next hug? Two weeks, all being well, but two weeks felt like a lifetime. Eddmina was glad that Willas clearly felt the same.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he told her in a hushed voice, his lips at her ear. "If you don't want to go, say the word, and we'll run away together."

"I can't," she shook her head, grimacing as she screwed her eyes shut.

"I hope our boys get your sense of duty," he told her, and it hit her like the greatest of compliments. "You are a good woman, Eddmina Stark."

"Tyrell," she corrected him, pulling away to see his face, savouring the sight of the surprised yet proud grin that grew on his face. "I feel as if I've resisted it, and while I'll always be a Stark... My name is Eddmina Tyrell."

He kissed her then. Not on the forehead or the cheek but on her lips. It was a kiss that would have surely been more passionate were they not holding their son, and were they not surrounded by people who were meant to be working but inevitably watching. Yet again though, they found themselves not caring, as so much of their lives had been caring for others and their opinions. In that moment all that mattered was each other and the life they wanted to build together.

"Mina Tyrell," Willas whispered, still grinning as they broke apart. "My Princess."

"My knight," she smirked back at him, feeling so content despite knowing her younger self would think her an absolute fool. She felt herself grow serious once more, and looked at him with a frown. "Keep yourself safe for me? Look after yourself, please. Don't ride too hard or strain yourself, and don't be afraid to ask for help."

"I could say the same for you," he pointed out, raising his eyebrows. "Get plenty of rest whenever you can, make sure you eat enough, and no riding. Do the bannermen know yet?"

"None except for Dacey," she reminded him, more than happy for it to stay that way. "They think I am heading back to Highgarden because Robb wants to keep his heir safe."

"That is a perfect alibi," Willas nodded approvingly, though frowned when he noticed her chew at her lip. "What?"

"A perfect alibi, if I was the heir," she told him quietly. "Keep it to yourself, Robb is yet to formally announce it, but right now the Prince of the North is keeping watch on the wall."

"Mina..." he breathed out, stepping away from their embrace as he looked at her face. Realisation dawned on him, and he gripped her shoulder tighter. "What have you done?"

"What should have been done a long time ago," she told him, unflinching. She regretted many things, but not legitimising Jon. "My brother is a Stark, in name as well as blood now. Robb and I worked it out. Jon may take his father's name, and his brother's place, should the need call for it."

Willas briefly removed his hand from her to run it through his hair, his eyes screwed shut as he came to terms with the new information. She couldn't tell if he was shocked, or angry, or upset, not that she saw reason for him to be. Perhaps it was just the surprise of it, because after a moment he sighed and leant to kiss her head again. When he pulled away, he smiled at her, a soft, understanding look about him, as if he knew that even if he couldn't quite understand her decision, he knew it mattered to her, and that was good enough for him.

She was desperate to talk more about it, but one of the Tyrell guards called his name. If he said anything else then Eddmina didn't hear him, not as panic struck her and she found herself unable to breathe. Willas took her arm and led her to the carriage entrance, as if knowing she wasn't ready to let go or say goodbye, but moving only made it worse, because all the other Tyrells were there, embracing and saying their own farewells.

Lord and Lady Tyrell were caught in a close embrace, the pair of them talking hushedly to each other, while Garlan didn't seem to want to let his wife go, or stop kissing her. Loras was ready to mount his horse, clearly wanting no part in dramatic goodbyes with loved ones since his own was taken from him, but Eddmina grabbed his arm and hugged him tight, pushing a kiss to his cheek before she could think twice.

"Keep my family safe," she whispered to him desperately, glad when he nodded.

"I could say the same to you," he said back, and when they parted there was a look of determined understanding mirrored in both their eyes. "I'll see you in a few weeks."

The sentiment of 'a few weeks' seemed to be echoed constantly, as they all moved around each other and exchanged embraces and parting gestures. Once Garlan had managed to put Leonette down he hugged Loras and called him his 'beloved little flower', ruffling his hair with brotherly adoration. When he was done, he then hugged Willas with such dedication that Eddmina was sure her husband couldn't breathe, but he hugged him back just as fiercely, the pair of them muttering to each other about keeping their wives safe and seeing each other soon enough. Eddmina could barely watch, and was glad for Leonette, who took her hand and pulled her close.

"Look after my boys," she whispered, breathless at the thought of parting from her goodsister once more. "Please."

"Always," Leonette nodded, and the constantly-strong woman flinched and held back tears as she added, "Look out for him, won't you?"

She meant Garlan, and Eddmina didn't hesitate to nod. He was her brother as much as Robb, and the thought of having him with her was a great comfort, even if she knew it was coming at the expense of Leonette's happiness. It was a great sacrifice they were both making, even if it was only for two weeks, and Eddmina would have said so, had Leonette not immediatey bolted back to Garlan to give him one final kiss.

That left Eddmina with no one to say goodbye to save Lady Tyrell. She hadn't realised she'd had a few tears escape until Lady Alerie subtly brandished a handkerchief and wiped them from her cheeks. Usually she would have felt a fool, and despised sympathies, but as always her Lady goodmother had a way of making her feel understood and not patronised. She offered her a kind smile that was trying not to be sad as she squeezed her arm gently, her other hand stroking Uther's back, and Eddmina tried to mimic the smile, until her nerves got the best of her.

"It's going to be alright, isn't it?" She asked, desperate for Lady Alerie to make it all seem as easy and straightforward as she always did. "I'm not scared, but-"

"You're a fool if you're not a little scared, but you're also one of the bravest people I know," Lady Alerie reassured her. "It is only a few weeks. You'll endure it, you'll survive it."

Eddmina nodded in agreement, fuelled by a new determination as she forced herself to breathe and smile, hugging Lady Tyrell as she pushed a kiss to her cheek. Her motherly kindness had always been a marvel to Eddmina, and it was something she would miss and spend the next two weeks looking forward to encountering again.

Goodbyes were dealt with, all those who were riding had mounted their horses. As if on cue Honour came trotting over, her muzzle stained from hunting, though she rubbed herself against Eddmina's leg as if she was a cat. All that was left was for them to board the coach, and Eddmina felt her chest tighten once more as she realised it was time to separate from her wolf, and to hand Uther over to Willas. Willas looked equally reluctant, not wanting to take him away, and while he normally wouldn't care about being passed around, Uther clearly knew something was going on, curling and hiding into Eddmina as he began to cry.

"Please, lad," Willas tried, rubbing his back in attempt to get him to stop, unable to look at his wife. "It's alright."

Eddmina felt her face turn bright red as Uther continued to cry, though as he clung to her tighter he began to sound more like he was screaming. He was usually so good, so mild-mannered, his outburst of refusal was a shock to both parents, and to the rest of the surrounding family, though none dared get involved, not as Honour's ears went back and she let out a nervous whine. It took everything in Eddmina not to cry herself, instead focusing on whispering reassurances to the little boy, stroking his hair, trying absolutely anything to get him to stop crying. None of it worked. He wrapped his arms around her tighter and screamed anytime Willas attempted to remove him from her. Her insides squirmed uneasily as she realised that everyone was looking at her, waiting to see how she would react, waiting to see just how bad of a mother she truly was.

It didn't help when Willas thought getting Honour into the carriage first would make things easier. Uther adored the wolf, so surely if he saw her go inside then he would want to follow, even if his mother didn't join him, except as Willas put his hand on Honour's back to guide her in the direction of the steps, she quickly backed away, hiding behind Eddmina as she let out a low growl. Honour's refusal was just as embarrassing as Uther's, though more unnerving, since it just served as a reminder of what she was; a wild animal, a wolf from beyond the wall. It didn't matter that she spent every night sleeping in a warm castle and was constantly spoilt, instinct was still at play, and hers was telling her not to leave. Eddmina would have been lying if she said it didn't alarm her.

"Please, my girl," Eddmina sighed, kneeling in front of the wolf, who was still whining. She noticed Lord and Lady Tyrell look at Honour uneasily as Eddmina held their grandson so close to the wolf, but she didn't have time to address that as she stared into Honour's topaz eyes. "Willas is going to take you home, and you need to go with them. You need to go with Uther and keep him safe for me. Watch over him for me, and I will be back with you in two weeks, my girl. Please, Honour."

Uther wasn't screaming anymore, but he was still crying, and so when Honour leant close to lick at Eddmina's face she licked away the little boy's tears too. It made him laugh between muffled sobs as he buried his face into her neck, and Eddmina closed her eyes, exhausted already and desperate to keep herself composed. It proved harder when Honour tipped her head back and let out a long howl, as if she too was crying, but someone - most likely the kennelmaster of Riverrun - had fetched a collar and a leach, and just as Eddmina noticed a guard hand it to her husband he was just as soon as wrapping it around Honour's neck. He looked mortified, unable to look Eddmina in the eye as he pulled her wolf away, and though Honour howled and snapped, desperate to be free, he managed to get her in the carriage, handing the chained leach to Leonette, who looked equally distraught by the scene. Even so, she held onto the chain firmly and stood in the carriage doorway to block Honour from escaping.

With Honour taken care of all focus then turned to Uther. Eddmina was still knelt on the ground, and she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder as she stood, though she didn't have the energy for her goodmother's sympathies. She didn't want anyone to help or offer advice, because surely then her heart would break even more. She was enough of a failure for having to separate from her son, but to be the one to make him cry so badly and be unable to calm him down, and to have it seen by so many... Her head spun dizzily, and she was sure she would have dropped back to the floor if she wasn't so focused on Uther's tight grip around her neck.

"You're alright, I promise, you're going to be alright," she whispered, rocking him back and forth, unsure if that was to calm him down or if it was for her sake. "Go with your father, he'll look after you, I promise. I'll not be gone long, I promise."

"Mina," Willas sighed, still unable to look at her properly, looking close to tears himself as he stroked his son's back. "He doesn't want to leave without you."

"And you think I do?" She snapped, unable to stop herself, then instantly cringed as Willas winced. "I'm sorry, gods, I'm sorry."

"No, you're right, I'm sorry," he shook his head, desperate not to make things harder or worse than they already were. "What do we do?"

It was the first time she'd heard him sound truly helpless. In all their time together he'd been level-headed and sure, and even if he'd ever been worried he was perfect at hiding it to keep others feeling safe. In parenting, he was the calm one, the one who seemed to always know exactly what he was doing, while Eddmina had many sleepless nights worrying about how much she didn't know or struggled to understand in motherhood. He was a natural father, always knowing what to do, and a perfect partner, always having the right thing to say, so to see him so out of his depth and unnerved, Eddmina felt truly lost.

Lady Alerie still had her hand on Eddmina's shoulder, and Eddmina noticed how Willas looked to his mother, as if asking for help. She hadn't gotten involved until then, and even with Willas clearly asking for her assistance she still looked reluctant, but she stepped forward, a guilty look in her eyes as she struggled to look at Eddmina. She positioned her hands under Uther's arms and carefully peeled him off Eddmina. He tried to resist, and as gentle as Lady Alerie always was, she was strong-willed enough to not give up and used just enough force to get him away. He fought against her hold, but even though she looked as if she wanted to cry and scream a thousand apologies to the three of them, she did not back down.

"No!" The little boy yelled, and neither parent could be proud of how clearly he spoke when the word was in-between anguished cries. "No, mama!"

He'd never called her that before. Eddmina felt her heart split open as she wanted to fall onto her knees and hide. What a mess it all was, and one glance to Willas told her he felt the same. Eddmina couldn't stomach to look at anyone else, in case she saw their disgust of how bad of a mother she was. She felt Willas take her hand, and wondered if he would be the next to make a scene over their parting.

"I'm going to take him in the carriage," Lady Tyrell told them both, her voice stern as if that was the only way she could cope and keep the situation together. "Say goodbye, Willas, then come inside yourself, and do not take your time about it."

She did exactly as she said she was going to, carrying her still-sobbing-and-struggling grandson into the carriage. All of Eddmina's instincts yearned to follow, feeling as if part of her was being severed off from the rest of her body, but she stayed stoic, clenching her jaw so tight her teeth hurt; at least that distracted her from the emotional pain she was enduring. With Uther and Honour dealt with all that was left was Willas, the man who was gripping her hand with such force it was like he never wanted to let go. Perhaps dealing with him would have felt easier, had they not just suffered their worst moment as parents, because suddenly Eddmina didn't feel brave at all, and wanted nothing more than to weep on her husband.

That was when she realised she still held Uther's wolf under her arm, guilt washing over her as she handed it to Willas. If he looked wrecked before, taking his wife's handiwork that both knew their son couldn't sleep without made him look as if he had suddenly aged out of nothing but sadness. Maybe it wouldn't have felt as despairing had Uther not caused such a fuss, but as Willas squeezed the plush toy he looked as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say, a dozen ways he wanted to beg for her to not leave them, but he vocalised none of them. Intead, he swallowed heavily, clenching his jaw as he forced himself to look up from the wolf as he tucked it into his cloak pocket, looking at his wife solemnly.

"Two weeks," Willas breathed out as he finally managed to look at her, his green eyes looking as sad as she'd ever seen them. "I'll be waiting."

There were no words, so Eddmina merely nodded, desperate not to crumble as she embraced him for the last time in a while. He held her as tight as ever, and though neither wanted to separate, they did. Eddmina didn't want to go on without him, even if it was to be a brief separation, but she forced herself to put on a brave face, forced herself to breathe, and though a smile was impossible, she managed not to cry as she took in every detail of his face, memorising it to keep her going.

"You know I love you, I know you love me, and I know that I will see you soon," she told him, her voice barely shaking. "I'll be okay, as will you. Now get in that coach and do not look back, because I fear we will both be undone if you do."

Willas nodded, understanding what she meant, and though he drew her in for one last kiss, he did not linger for long before following her instructions. No sooner did he let go of her hand did someone else step forward and wrap their arm around her shoulder. Of course it was Garlan, and of course she stepped back and let her goodbrother support her, even if she did feel pathetic, simply because she didn't know if she would be able to stay on her feet if she wasn't leaning on him.

Willas followed her wish of not looking back, but that didn't stop her wincing as the carriage door shut, or her breath catching in her throat when they began to move out of the courtyard and out through the gates. At least when the procession was through the gate and out of the keep she could no longer hear Uther crying, though the noise of it was echoing in her head to the point she screwed her eyes shut, hoping to escape from the loss of control and the feeling like she was drowning.

Garlan gripped her tight, as if knowing exactly how she was feeling, but then she felt Lord Tyrell step closer to her, and despite it all, he pulled her into an embrace of their own. She froze, not knowing what to do, because even if he had been warmer to her in the past few days than he ever had been, physical affection was still so unexpected. It took her a moment before she dared wrap her own arms around him.

"Well done, lass, that wasn't easy at all," he told her quietly, somehow knowing she didn't want any more attention drawn to her. Perhaps he could feel her shaking, or he could tell how sick she felt, so he withdrew from her and instead held her shoulders. "You did very well there."

"He'll be alright, Edd," Garlan promised her, his hand still on her back. She tried to nod, but she couldn't look at either of them. "We'll be on the road too soon enough, then you'll have something else to think about."

When Garlan suggested travel as a distraction, he forgot the fact that other goodbyes still had to be made. While all the northerners prepared their horses for their varying journeys - either to the Twins or to Winterfell - Eddmina had to deal with more farewells, those striking her just as hard.

It was her Uncle Bryden first. He didn't seem to want to hug her at first, but she realised he was doing so for her benefit, as if knowing her reputation and not wanting to risk it. It could all be damned for all she cared, as she pulled her great-uncle into a tight embrace, wanting his fatherly love one last time. He embraced her back just as fiercely, and she wondered what he had thought of her upon her arrival, and if it had changed at all. Did he still think of her as similar to her mother, did he think her a mad fool for her bouts of nerves, or did none of it matter because she was simply his niece who he would love regardless? Eddmina hoped for the last option.

"Come and visit me when all of this is over," she insisted, glad when he smiled and nodded.

"Of course, by then you'll have another of my great-great nephews to introduce me to," he reminded her with a single laugh. "These flowery folk aren't as bad as one would expect. They'll take good care of you, especially the Gallant and your Ser Wise. Not that they need to, you're rather good at looking after yourself. I think your father would be particularly proud of that."

It was hard not to cry at that, and even harder not to cry at the goodbye that came after his hug; Sansa. Her little sister was in a black riding dress that she had clearly made herself, her expert embroidery all over it in the form of roaring direwolves, and a fur riding cloak that made her look like a real northwoman, and a strong one at that too. Eddmina was unsure if she would ever be as proud of someone as she was of Sansa, because despite it all, she had survived. Eddmina took her sister's hand, giving it three squeezes.

"If you don't want to do this-" she began, because it was important that Sansa didn't feel as though she had to do anything, even if it was for their family and their kingdom.

"I am the daughter of Winterfell, I want to go home," Sansa told her, sounding strong and stoic, and she couldn't help but wonder if she'd practiced that line, just so she could say it and sound the part.

"You are Sansa Stark of Winterfell, you are the daughter of Ned Stark, the sister of King Robb Stark, you are clever and kind, and you are the best of all of us," Eddmina told her firmly, wanting her to believe every word. "Be brave, be strong, be yourself. I will see you soon."

Sansa faltered then, her bottom lip twitching as she realised it was goodbye for a much longer time than two weeks. She let out a small gasp in place of any words as she fell into Eddmina's arms. Eddmina was more than happy for the hug, savouring how it felt. There had been a time where she had longed for such contact yet thought it impossible, and that had made every moment with her sister special and sacred. That one mattered more though, and so she did not move until she felt her sister withdraw first.

"Stay safe," Sansa said, trying to sound as strong as she had been before. "Please, Edda."

"Of course I will," she nodded. "I will write when I am home in Highgarden, and I will write when I have the babe. You're welcome to visit anytime."

"As are you, I want you to come see me when Harrion takes me to the Karhold," Sansa insisted, nodding enthusiastically. "I want you to come North whenever you want. It will always be your home."

It was a sweet idea, and the thought of visits North with her children had always been a happy one, but with so much war left to fight and so much left to endure she couldn't help but feel like it was so far away. Even so, she kept her pretence up, smiling to encourage Sansa's confidence, holding her hand with both of hers.

"Thank you, Edda, for everything," Sansa told her finally, with one last smile. "I love you, sister."

That was all they had time for, as Lady Stark had approached, and it was time for them to say goodbye. Eddmina's heart had barely recovered from being separated from her own child, and to see her mother say goodbye to one of hers yet again was too much. She turned away to go and ready her horse, but there was Harrion, waiting to speak to her. As soon as she looked at him, he approached, bowing his head at her when he was close enough.

"Princess, it has been an honour," he told her sincerely, still so formal and awkward, still so sweet without intending to be.

"The honour is mine, Lord Karstark," Eddmina nodded, managing a smile. She liked him, and wished they'd had more time to get to know each other. "Take good care of yourself, and my sister."

"We both look forward to having you visit once the war is over," Harrion said, looking a little nervous before he added, "I want more than anything for her to be happy... do you have any advice?"

"Talk to her, listen to her, and be kind," Eddmina suggested with a shrug, knowing that was the bare minimum of what her sweet sister deserved.

"I am no great poet, nor am I a prince, or... I care for her a great deal though," he confessed.

"That is all she needs," Eddmina smiled, taking his hand and squeezing it once more. "And I think the feeling may be mutual."

He turned around then to glance at Sansa, still in her mother's tight embrace with Lady Stark looking as if she was fighting off tears, and when he looked back to Eddmina, his cheeks had gone pink. For a man famed for fierceness in battle, he really was quite sweet, with a charmingly shy disposition. Eddmina found him endearing, and was sorry to part ways with him so soon into knowing him. When he left her then to see to his horse, Eddmina hoped he didn't notice that the Lord of Storm's End was already on horseback, surrounded by his own guards, and was staring at Sansa, awestruck. Eddmina couldn't help but glare, clenching her jaw as her gaze hardened, and though it took a moment for him to notice, he swallowed guiltily before riding over and a friendly smile.

"Princess, I am sorry to have not spoken with you much during my time here," he addressed her, still smiling as if they were old friends. He was charming, and if not for his stares at her sister, she would have been won over. "I look forward to my time in the north."

"Tread carefully, my Lord, the north doesn't always take to outsiders well," she advised sternly, though eventually forced herself to smile. "I wish you good fortune."

She wanted to like him, she wanted to trust him, but the way he looked piningly after her little sister made her want to tear him down from his horse and threaten him until he got the message not to mess with her. He did not seem like he could cause any harm, not like the boy king posing as his half-brother, but any attention to Sansa had her wary, and she was glad for the distraction Jeyne provided as she ran to her frantically, looking desperate and urgent. By the time Eddmina turned back to look for Edric he had gone, and she had no choice but to focus on her brother's wife stood before her.

Jeyne had changed a great deal in the weeks she had been living in Riverrun. She was not the naive girl she had been, and if her expression of slight fear didn't show that, the fact she'd stopped wearing her gold seashell necklace made sure of it. She'd stopped dressing in her house colours, though Eddmina was unsure when she had made the transition to the greys of house Stark. She hadn't hardened completely, a sweet softness in her eyes and a lingering kindness that suited a young girl who'd always been told that the world was good. Eddmina couldn't imagine how it had been for her to have her entire worldview torn apart, her own parents betray her, and though she seemed to constantly resist and will things to be her way, there was a strength to that too.

"You need to take me with you," she demanded, firm and urgent, forgetting any sort of formality. "Please. Tell Robb, tell the King he needs to take me with you all."

"It was me who suggested you stay behind," Eddmina reminded her, though Jeyne wouldn't take that did an answer. She forced a smile, fighting off her fatigue to show her brother's wife the kindness she wanted. "I said it to protect you, your grace. The Freys are not the kindest, or the easiest to forgive. For the sake of my brother I do not want you there, I do not want them to insult you or mock him any more than is inevitable."

"But I don't care about any of that, I know what happened when I married Robb, I know the trouble it caused but I don't care, I just want to be with him," Jeyne insisted, reaching out to take Eddmina's hands to plead. "If my brothers are going, why can't I?"

"Your eldest is in Robb's guard, your youngest is his squire," Eddmina explained simply, her headache from earlier making a return as her patience began to wear thin. "If it were my final decision I would have none of you there simply to protect you all. You may not see it as such, but remaining in Riverrun is a blessing. Our uncle will keep you safe, and Robb will be back with you soon."

"But that is not soon enough," Jeyne frowned. "I'm scared for him to leave, I'm scared that something may happen. We swore vows to each other-"

Perhaps if Eddmina's morning had gone a little smoother and she wasn't still wrought from hearing Uther scream desperately for her and seeing the despair in Willas' eyes, Eddmina might have reacted a little better.

"Yes, I swore vows with my husband too, and where is he now?" She snapped, harsher than she would have liked but not caring in the slightest, even when Jeyne flinched and pulled her hands away quickly. "Did you see he or I begging to stay together? No, you did not, because we understand that the selfish desires of love cannot cloud our judgement or our duty. Do you think I am happy? Do you think I want to do any of this? No, I do not. I would quite happily go home with my husband and never part from him or our son, but I know my duty, and Willas knows his, and it is about time you learnt yours. You may be Robb's Queen, but that doesn't give you the right to demand your way. Robb has asked for you to remain here, where you will be safe and looked after, and I have told you it is the best option, yet you refuse to believe us or listen in your childish need for constant affection from your husband, constantly forgetting you didn't marry a simple western man but a northern king in the middle of a war for his life. You asked for my help when you first came here, well have this as a lesson: grow up."

Jeyne fled instantly in floods of tears, but Eddmina didn't blame her. Her words had made her cringe, pouring out of her like fire with every single one of them meant as her truth, but as soon as she saw their impact, as soon as she saw Jeyne crumble and run, she regretted it. She regretted people overhearing it too, because the few servants and guards who were in earshot gave her uneasy looks, and she was certain she heard them whisper under their breaths.

'Cruel'.

'Harsh'.

'Cold hearted'.

She wanted to not care, but she felt sick all the same, not knowing where to look. It was fine enough to hear that their enemies had bestowed nicknames of insult to her, but to hear her own men, men of the north and Riverlands whisper over her uncomfortably... Eddmina felt like the monster the westerners had tried to paint her as. Would Tywin Lannister have spoken like that? Would he have shown such harsh disregard to one of his family's emotions? The only person who could answer her concerns she had said goodbye to the day before and resided in one of the tower rooms, and so she had no choice but to form her own conclusions.

'Tywin with Tits indeed'.

She had been desperate for one last hug with Sansa. She'd wanted to hold her again and try to tell her how much she loved her, but Sansa was still with their mother on the other side of the courtyard, and it was more than likely that both had heard her speak so cruelly to Jeyne. She knew neither of them were particularly close to Robb's wife, but Sansa still had moments where she flinched if someone raised their voice, and her mother had done nothing but try and install courtesies into her eldest daughter her whole life. Her sister's fear and her mother's disappointment was the last thing she needed to throw on top of all her other bubbling emotions. In her shame she took a leaf out of Jeyne's book and fled herself, grateful that her carriage was close by.

She practically flew up the steps and slammed the carriage door shut, wanting nothing but privacy as she threw herself onto the cushioned bench, grabbing one of the nearby pillows to bury her face into and scream. If was oddly therapeutic, even if it did make her feel mad, but perhaps she was. Only a mad woman would shout at a worried young wife the way she had shouted at Jeyne, only a mad woman would insist her family leave her behind on a quest for home. Gods, she hated herself.

There was no taking it back though, none of it. Even if she knew that and knew she meant what she had said, she was still full of regret, and wanted nothing more than to hide away. The only thing she wanted more than to be alone was to have Willas there with his warm embrace. She wanted to feel his hands on her waist drawing her close, she wanted to hear him sigh as he contemplated the best way to calm her raging emotions, she wanted to feel his lips on her hairline as he realised that sometimes there were no words to be said and his mere presence was enough. She had thought she was a mad woman before, but realising how deeply in love and reliant she was on that one man made her feel even madder. She must be truly mad if she'd let herself get so embroiled into someone that she couldn't function without him, and she must be even madder to have sent him away. Perhaps she should have been more like Jeyne, and insisted he stay with her, or refused to go anywhere that he was not.

Willas had looked so sad to leave her. He looked as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say but had the courage for none of them as he would have surely broken down. Why had she told him not to turn and look at her upon getting in the carriage? Why hadn't she taken every last second to gaze upon his face and savour the sight of him? She had been so quick to get out of bed too, why hadn't she relished the opportunity to simply lay in his arms and listen to his heart beating? She was a stubborn, cold-hearted fool. She had to be, because how could she have listened to Uther scream and beg her to stay with him and ignore his pleas? She still felt on her neck where he had dug his hands in, sure that his fingernails had scratched at her, and the way he'd curled into her as if he knew the world was dangerous and she was the only safety he knew was haunting over her. She truly was cruel. Honour too had wanted to stay with her to the point of growling, when usually she was so calm and quiet. She'd practically snarled to stay with her, and before that had almost gone nervous, as if scared to be separated. Honour had loved her, protected her, saved her life countless times, and she repaid her by forcing her away?

If she loved Willas, Uther, and Honour as much as she always said, if she loved them so much that she felt her entire body burning to be away from them, why had she treated them so cruelly? Why had she sent them away when she needed them? How had she managed to be so cold to them all? There had been plenty of terrible days in her life, but that one was certainly up there very high among the worst, and it was barely even midday.

She contented herself with isolation, curling herself into a ball and wrapping her arms around the pillow her face was still buried into; it masked her tears as well as her screams. She only realised how long she'd been in the carriage when she felt it jerk and she almost rolled off onto the floor. She gasped as she caught her balance, looking around wildly as if trying to get her bearings.
She didn't enjoy carriage journeys at the best of times, but when she was in a condition that made her stomach quite delicate she almost felt like throwing up as she got to her feet and moved to the window, but she took a deep breath and forced the feeling away as she gazed out and saw they were at least a few hours away from Riverrun. She felt cheated, as if she'd not had the chance to say goodbye to it properly, but she had no one to blame for that but herself.

"Sit back down, you will make yourself dizzy," she heard a voice call, and she whipped around to see her mother, sat upon the bench opposite the one she had previously curled up on.

"What are you doing in here?" Eddmina asked, her voice rough and strained from crying.

Her mother gave her a look of restrained sympathy, as if knowing she had to hold back her sorrow for the state her daughter was in. She looked as if she wanted to wrap her up in her arms and hold her until all the troubles of the world disappeared and they were safe and far from any traumas, but knew that doing so would belittle her and make her feel weak. That was why she simply offered her her hand, beckoning her to sit once more with an understanding smile. Eddmina didn't take her hand, instead throwing herself back down onto the bench, folding her arms across her chest. Her mother sighed, but didn't show any sign of annoyance of disappointment.

"I thought you may want some company, Robb and Ser Garlan did offer but I thought it best they ride with the procession outside," Lady Stark explained with a caring smile, though her expression faultered for a brief moment. "I heard that it wasn't an easy goodbye this morning, and you spoke with Jeyne too."

"I think I may be the worst woman alive," Eddmina breathed out, closing her eyes as she reached for her pillow once more.

"Don't you dare ever say such things, Eddmina," her mother snapped, looking as if she immediately regretted it as she quickly softened. "You are a good woman, who unfortunately inherited your father's steadfast need for duty. I loved him for it, but I doubt it did him any favours."

"Does Robb hate me for what I said to Jeyne?" She dared to ask with a grimace.

"On the contrary, he's grateful for it," her mother said with a faint laugh. "We've been on the road for a few hours and we've already had to stop twice to send her back after she's come riding after us."

Eddmina let out a bitter laugh, because as irritating as that sounded, she couldn't fault Jeyne's dedication. At least Robb wasn't angry at her though, even if she was angry with herself. If Robb wasn't angry, she could at least try and put the situation from her mind, ideally wanting to forget the whole day. She tried to take her mind off it by looking at her mother, and then she noticed what she had been doing while she had been curled up in a ball of despair. There was a wreath woven out of sticks sat upon her lap, a pile of other sticks and smaller twigs along with a ball of twine and ribbon on the floor by her feet. Upon seeing it Eddmina was transported back to Winterfell, back to being a small child wrecked with the thought of losing her beloved half-brother, back to being a younger woman terrified to have watched her little brother fall and potentially lose his life.

"Which one of us is dying now?" Eddmina asked dryly, not that her mother appreciated the humour as she shot her a disgruntled look.

"This one is for Robb, I've given Sansa hers," she explained, glancing at Eddmina guiltily. "I'm going to make you one next. I know they are not your gods though."

"They aren't," Eddmina agreed with a guilty nod. "Did that ever bother you?"

"That you chose your fathers gods over mine?" Lady Stark clarified, and when Eddmina nodded she sighed as she considered her answer. "No, I don't think so. It seemed inevitable. You are of the north, and so like your father. I might've given you a septa for your lessons and wished you would come to the Sept with me, and sometimes it might've felt like you followed your father's gods simply to rebel against me, but I was simply glad you had a way to find peace even if that was in the Godswood."

Eddmina sighed, leaning back on the bench as the carriage juddered. She hated the fact she had barely considered the sacrifices her mother had made in raising a northern family. She married a northern man, mothered northern children, and watched as they followed traditions different to the ones she had been raised in. The older she got, the more she realised her mother wasn't terrible, but a woman of their society, made by her experiences and the traumas of others passed down to her.

"Will you teach me how to make one of those?" She asked after a moments silence. Her mother was so surprised she nearly dropped her wreath, especially as the carriage jolted.

"You know only mothers whose children are in danger can make these," her mother explained carefully, setting her work aside to squeeze Eddmina's hand.

"I've sent one son away down south far away from me and I'm taking another into the Twins," Eddmina pointed out.

"They aren't your gods, Edda," Lady Stark said, sounding gentle as if preparing for her daughter to laugh and withdraw her interest in the craft.

"No, but they're Willas', and they will probably be the gods of my children," Eddmina explained with a simple shrug, managing a sad smile as she thought of Uther.

'He will hate me for leaving him, he is probably still crying now,' she considered. 'But at least with this, if I make him a wreath, he'll know I was thinking of him.'

Lady Stark looked flattered, even if she was still surprised at her sudden interest in the New Gods. She squeezed her hand again as she smiled, before scooping up a selection of the sticks and handing them to Eddmina.

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