Chapter Seventy Four: The Last Supper
The tower rooms they had converted into a prison cell was certainly warmer than the ones down in the cellars, though they felt just as entraping and suffocating, and it took everything in Eddmina to not turn and flee the moment she was through the door.
Fleeing wouldn't have been particularly cowardly, since the man she had come to visit was sleeping, with his back to her and the door. He would have never even known that she had been, he wouldn't have the chance to think her weak for running before she gave him the chance to speak to her. Eddmina knew though, and so she shut the door behind herself with enough force that it slammed, and Ser Jaime Lannister let out a startled groan, jerking up from his position, looking around the room wildly for the danger until his eyes settled on her. She forced herself to remain stoic, even when she felt a stinging sensation run through her when she saw how his left arm was cradling the right protectively, hiding the bandaged stump, as if shielding it from view would make it not real.
He was cleaner than the last time she had seen him, and even with the injury he looked as if he was not as thin. His hair was still a state, not a golden mane anymore but a faded tangled mess, and he was in dire need of a shave. Still, his appearance was an improvement, which made looking him in the eye an easier task. He swallowed when he saw her, tightening his jaw as he sat up a little straighter. He did not smile, not even a cruel sarcastic grin like he usually offered her, and as if to compensate for it Eddmina offered him a quick small smile before becoming serious once more.
"You're alive then," Jaime remarked, moving out from under the covers of the small bed, sitting on the edge as he looked her up and down. "No one would tell me anything. How's the arm? Did they break your nose?"
"No terrible damage, save a scar on my arm, I'm lucky northern steel is so well forged, it'll heal into a subtle little thing," she dismissed his cold concern quickly, glancing at his bandaged stump and looking back to his face so fast in the hopes that he didn't notice. "It could have been worse."
"Is that what you've come for? To compare your flimsy scar to me and remind yourself how lucky you are?" Jaime snapped back. Eddmina's only reaction was to raise one of her eyebrows, as if asking for him to go on. "Nearly a month on and you finally decide to show your face. You leave me for a month with no company save your maester's blundering fool of an apprentice and that brute you call a woman-"
"If not for Lady Brienne, we would both be dead," Eddmina cut in sternly. "I'd hope you would remember that."
"I remember being told that had you not used your cloak to put pressure on my hand I might've bled out," Jaime retorted quickly. "Forget the wench, I'd be dead without you."
"Aye, and if not for you they would have gotten me in the side and not the arm," she remembered, her voice quiet as she recalled blurry memories. "We owe each other as much of a debt as we owe to Lady Brienne."
"Isn't that what knights are meant to do, save poor defenceless damsels?" Jaime asked sarcastically, and Eddmina was almost relieved, glad to see the defiant spark back in him, even if he did sound more bitter than he used to. "That was the sort of knight that I wanted to be, not the one who kills those he was sworn to protect."
"Or pushes little children out of towers," Eddmina couldn't help but add.
Sometimes she felt as though she had to remind herself that they were all at war because the man in front of her. The blind hatred she had initially felt towards him after finding out what he had done to her little brother had somehow dulled. She wasn't sure if it was since Bran was dead, killed by another man, or if it was because she had realised that life was not as black and white as someone being purely evil. Either way, things were not so easy anymore, and hating Jaime was something she had to tell herself to do, especially when she saw the faint flicker of regret in his eyes.
He was not the man he had been in Winterfell. If there were any traces of that man left, they had been killed down in the cells the moment his hand had been severed off. She remembered how he had screamed, how he had clutched his arm and almost fainted at the sight of the severe wound, and she knew that out of everything that had happened in the war, that was one moment that would stay with her for as long as she lived.
"Does it hurt?" She asked, unable to stop herself. She saw him glare down at it for a moment before he looked back at her.
"I think it would hurt less had it been my other hand," he told her, hiding his truth behind cutting comments. "We cannot all be freaks like you who rely on your left."
"My little sister favoured her left too," Eddmina shot back defensively, feeling a sting of grief as she considered the trait she and Arya shared; all the other Starks were right-handed. "Maester Vyman says you will make a full recovery."
"A full recovery would be if my hand re-grew and I could use a sword again," he muttered darkly, before glancing at her with a bitterly amused look. "Ask your husband. He may have recovered from his injury, but I'm sure he still hates that there is so much he cannot do. A half-life at best."
"Funny, you joke about him yet you now have so much in common," she reminded him, enjoying the way he grimaced. "If you think my husband has a half-life then you haven't been paying attention."
"I thought I could hear the pair of you last night," he remarked, clearly wanting to fluster her, but Eddmina's cheeks didn't even grow hot.
"Not us, I'm afraid," she told him flippantly. "Ser Garlan and his wife, however... But I did not come here to discuss any of that. I wanted to see you, see that you were alive."
"And now you've seen that I am, what do you intend to do now?" he questioned her, eyebrows raised expectantly.
"I suppose I'll say goodbye," she shrugged, trying to be casual, but she cracked when he continued to stare at her. "Your situation is not changing, you're to remain here, but I am leaving Riverrun."
"Oh?" he asked, clearly surprised. "Bored of war already, are you?"
Eddmina considered her next words carefully. She didn't go into the room with a plan, other than wanting to say goodbye. He had become an unlikely companion for her no matter how much she had resisted or hated it. He had somehow become someone she had turned to in moments of crisis and doubt, and she supposed it was because he had no care for her. He didn't like her, so had no need to worry over upsetting her rather than just giving her hard truths and blunt facts, and conversations with him always felt like a challenge. She hadn't realised she had begun to enjoy the challenge until she came to the conclusion she was going to miss it.
She wasn't sure if she liked him, or respected him. She certainly didn't trust him, but he had saved her life, and for that he was owed the truth. What would he do with the information? With only Lady Brienne trusted to guard him and no chance of him seeing someone opposing the Stark cause, it was not as if he would be able to use the information against her.
"I'm going to my Uncle's wedding, he's marrying a daughter of Lord Frey," she informed him, then paused as right on cue she felt the fluttering sensation him her stomach again. It took her by surprise, and she hadn't realised she'd moved her hand to the area until she saw understanding dawn on Jaime's face. "Then I am going home to Highgarden. We did not just save the lives of each other that night, but that of my unborn babe."
"Well then I suppose congratulations are in order," he shrugged resignedly, offering her a small smile that didn't seem particularly false or forced. "To you and to Ser Willas. It seems the joust didn't injure him in the way everyone feared."
Eddmina clenched her jaw. He had insulted Willas constantly, it was nothing new, but she decided that it would be the final time. She doubted she would ever see him again, and so didn't let it bother her, tried not to let her faint annoyance show. She straightened her posture, held her hands neatly together, and kept her face stoic.
He instantly seemed disappointed that he had not hit a nerve. It had been sport for him, to insult her and her family until she snapped and either insulted him or threatened his life. Her refusal to play along seemed to signal to him that everything was changing, and their relationship - whether it was cautious friendship or tolerated hatred - was coming to an end.
"I wish you good fortune, Princess," he nodded, serious for once. "I doubt anyone else will come say their farewells, so do give your family my regards."
"Thank you," she nodded too, turning to the door, her hand on the latch, but at the last minute turned back around, getting one last look at him. "Goodbye, Ser Jaime."
***
Eddmina returned to her chamber to ready for supper before Willas had even noticed she had gone. He was out too, and appeared dressed in his stable clothes as she was braiding her hair, sat at her dressing table with Uther on her knee playing with her hair comb, banging it onto the table top. Willas was quick to push a kiss to the top of both of their heads, before he changed into his clothes for the evening, changing out of his sweat-and-muck-streaked shirt into a clean, green velvet doublet.
For the few moments he was barechested Eddmina couldn't help but look. She tried to be subtle about it, looking at him through the reflection of the mirror while still trying to make herself seem busy by fiddling with her braid. He was thinner than he had been when they first met, but he hadn't lost his muscle tone, and she thought of all the times she'd stroked her hands across his torso, all the times she'd rested her head upon his chest and listened to his heartbeat. She tried to remember what she thought the first time she saw him, if she was instantly smitten or if attraction had grown over time. It felt like a lifetime ago, and she knew that in truth it didn't matter. At the end of it all, he was hers, and she was more than pleased with that.
She wasn't sure when Willas caught her looking, but he was smirking. She flushed in embarrassment, but knew there was no point in it. He had watched her plenty of times before, and she revelled in it. She was never particularly happy when plenty of eyes were on her, but Willas was different. She never minded him looking at her, especially when his eyes were narrowed as if his whole face was smiling.
"Do you mind?" he asked teasingly, his cheeks pink and a smirk on his face. Eddmina tried not to, but couldn't help grinning.
"Not at all," she shrugged, her grin fading into a dry smirk as she flicked her braid back over her shoulder with one hand, the other holding Uther to her lap as he fidgeted. "Would you mind staying still, my boy?"
"Your fault, wolf's blood," Willas commented, still smirking as he tied the fastenings of his shirt. She scowled at him, though no real frustration was meant, not as she found herself incapable of laughing as their boy slammed her comb onto the desk once more. "That's not one of your favourites, is it?"
"Do I strike you as the kind of lady who has a favourite hair brush?" she asked him dryly with an arched eyebrow before cracking another smile. "It is, actually, but it doesn't matter. I bet I will have a dozen more in Highgarden."
The mention of home made Willas become serious, his smile slowly fading, and Eddmina swore she saw him pale. She wondered why, until he crossed the room in silence, and stood behind her, gripped her shoulder with a fierce protectiveness and leant down to push a kiss to the top of her head. He hesitated, moving to rest his forehead against where he had just kissed, and Eddmina stayed still, allowing him time to be close, knowing he was trying to process his thoughts into words. She closed her eyes and leant back into him until her back was against his body, knowing that after that night it would be a few weeks until they were able to sit in such peaceful closeness again.
Willas had been distracting himself from their reality in the stables, while Eddmina had done anything and everything to stop herself from thinking it through. She wasn't even sure that she had processed what was about to happen, too distracted in the initial anger at Uther's part in the deal to even consider that she was going to be leaving Willas the very next day and not see him until the next month. Perhaps it was a blessing, because that seemed far too painful to imagine. When she fell asleep he was at her side, when she woke in the morning he was always still there, with his hand on hers. He was usually the only person to notice whenever she was worn down or if she was tired, and he always caught her when she was unknowingly crossing onto the edges of her frayed nerves. His hand always seemed to be in hers, he was always at her side, his thoughts always there if she needed them. They had been apart before, but when he had returned from the Stormlands she had felt so whole to have him once more, and the thought of leaving him made her feel as if she was about to split herself into two.
It had to be done, though. She would much rather go to the Twins without him, keep him as far away from Lord Walder and the other Freys as possible, even if it did make her feel as if she was only going to be half of herself for a while. It had to be done, and like most things in war, she knew she should approach it coldly, cut herself off to make it easier. Cold was not something she could do easily with Willas, a man who encouraged so much light and warmth constantly, and so she sighed, reaching up with the hand that wasn't holding Uther to take hold of his.
"Don't leave me," he asked, sounding as if he was close to begging. "Don't leave us."
"I will not be away from you for long," she attempted to justify, but it was hard when every instinct in her was screaming against it. "You will hardly know I am gone, either of you."
"He will notice, he'll notice when he realises he's been sung to sleep every night of his life and his father has a terrible voice," Willas attempted to joke, but it sounded sad, especially when she noted how he hadn't said Uther's name, as if it was painful to speak. Eddmina was glad he was stood behind her then, not wanting to see the anguish on his face. "What if something should happen at the Twins, or on the road? We'll be halfway home by the time you arrive at the Twins, you'll be so far away. What if you need me, what if he needs you?"
"Will, I cannot believe I am the one to say this to you after so long, but breathe," she said, finally getting up from the stool, lifting Uther into the air before resting him on her hip, balancing him with one arm while her other hand took her husband's cheek, cupping it gently. "If I do not go, things get trickier for us. If I go, I can try and negotiate a way out of us giving them Uther."
"But..." he began, fading off cautiously as he reached out and stroked his hand through their son's curls before his hand moved over to her stomach. "What if something should happen? Maester Luwin always said-"
"Maester Luwin is most likely dead," she said, wincing at the harsh truth. "Luwin was my childhood maester, he bandaged me up as a girl when I fell out of trees, do you not think he might have been over-cautious with me out of sentimentality and the worry over that being my first pregnancy?"
"But Mina-" Willas attempted to tiredly argue, but she shook her head.
"Vyman says that I am well enough to travel and so I will, I will be in a carriage to the Twins rather than horseback and if it makes you feel better I will go onto bedrest again the moment I arrive home," she attempted to justify it all, but instead found it easier to push her hand to his. "I can feel him moving, Willas. He's more than safe, so am I, and the pair of us will be back with you both before you even get the chance to miss us."
He pushed his lips to hers then, sighing against her as if resigning himself to acceptance, even if he had struggled to get there. She kissed him back, hoping the gesture could reassure in ways that words could not, and when they broke apart she made sure to keep her forehead pressed to his, knowing that he liked that, knowing that soon enough it would be that closeness she would crave in her dreams.
"How do you know it's a boy?" Willas asked eventually, their faces still close, his thumb stroking over her hand.
"I keep seeing boys in my dreams," she explained with a shrug, as if prophetic dreams were the most normal thing in the world. If it was ridiculous, Willas didn't act like it, nodding and looking genuinely curious. "Two little boys, one with dark hair, one favouring the Tully and Hightower colours, running riot in Highgarden and causing chaos."
"Uther and Eddard," Willas nodded with a proud grin, one that remained when he looked down at his son. "Little brothers are a nuisance, I can only apologise."
Uther did his usual response to that, beaming a grin to his father, laughing. Then he did something he never realy did, stringing together a few sounds in the midst of his shrieks that sounded oddly like-
"Did he just say-" Willas asked with a baffledly amused grin, looking quickly up and down between his boy and his wife.
"Mina!" Uther cheered again in the midst of laughter, a sound that was quickly overshadowed by the sound of his mother's hysterical laughs. "Mina!"
Eddmina was certain she'd never felt joy like it. She had never known such strong feelings of pride were possible. How could she ever consider the world to be a terrible place when someone so small could make her feel so happy? She held him up in the air, pressed a dozen kisses to his face, all while listening to her husband laugh. That was it, that was true happiness, and it was addictive. Every other instance of feeling content or happy felt like mere tasters, little slithers of what could be, but as she beamed and held her family close, she knew that she would spend the rest of her life chasing that feeling.
"I love you," she told the boy in her arms, still grinning, still fighting against laughter. When she settled him back down onto her hip and Willas leant closer to them to kiss the top of his head, she looked at him, and added, "I adore you."
"I love you both," he vowed. His hand was on Uther's head, fingers stroking through his dark curls, but he was looking at her as if she was the only woman on earth. "By all the gods, I love you."
She wanted the moment to last forever, but it was not to be. Dinner was waiting, as was their whole extended family. Since it was their last night in Riverrun, their last night all together, it was a real family affair. Usually Jeyne's brothers did not join them for family meals, preferring to dine together as just the two of them, but that night they were sat between their sister and their goodbrother, and the way they were engrossed in conversation with Robb made Eddmina wonder if he missed having brothers of his own. Bran and Rickon had been too little sometimes, but Jon had been a constant companion, and of course there had been... Eddmina felt her skin begin to itch as she considered the third teenaged lad who'd grown in Winterfell, and immediately craved a happier thought, grateful when Uther tugged on her hair and fidgeted in her grip, commanding her attention.
Eddmina wanted to sit next to her brother, were her mother not already sat there, though perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. Most of them were still dressed in black from the funeral, or had changed into Stark grey, but Eddmina had dressed in a green gown, the long sleeves embellished with embroidered silver vines, and she realised she was much better suited to sit on the other side of the table with her marital family. Not quite comfortable to let her place as a Stark go completely, she took the seat directly opposite Robb, even if that did mean sitting next to Lord Tyrell, who had forgotten the sour mood of the day and was rather jolly; he was the only one. Willas was sat next to her, Uther on his lap, but he had quickly fallen into conversation with Loras at his side, and that left her completely alone with her goodfather, perhaps for the first time ever. They exchanged pleasantries, he complimented her dress and its colour, and then he ran out of things to say. It was obvious he wished for someone else to save their conversation, but for once Willas and Eddmina were not the last to arrive and all those who they usually relied on to save them from any awkwardness or interactions were far from helping. Garlan and Leonette were both still absent, Lady Tyrell too, and Sansa and Harrion had still been in their chambers when Eddmina and Willas had left for dinner. Eddmina had never realised just how much she had relied on them all in social situations until she was left to her own devices, desperately wracking her mind for any sort of conversation simply to save her from sitting in silence while everyone around them were deep in conversation.
"Which are you hoping for this time? Another boy, or a girl?" Lord Tyrell asked her eventually, his topic coming from seemingly nowhere, much to her surprise. At first she thought he'd just asked as something to say, but when she looked at him she saw genuine curiosity.
"I don't mind," she shrugged, knowing that telling him about her dreams would make her sound ridiculous. She wasn't sure why, but she couldn't help add, "I think Willas would like a girl."
"Yes, I always wanted girls too," he nodded, then caught her frown of surprise before she could hide it. "Boys were a necessity, and I love them all, but there is a reason they all joke that Margie is my favourite."
"I don't know if I would be any good at girls," Eddmina confessed. Why she was being so honest she wasn't sure, but it turned out when they weren't not seeing eye-to-eye, he was as easy to talk to as most other Tyrell's. "I'm not particularly good at boys either, I don't think, but at least I'm more familiar with it."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it, part of the struggle of being a parent is making mistakes," he waved off her concern quickly. "I believe I may be the expert in that, though my wife did once drop Loras."
"Yes, Garlan told me," Eddmina nodded, trying to hide her smile until she heard Lord Tyrell's laughter and found it hard not to join in.
"I told you what?" Garlan's voice called from behind, making his entrance just at the right moment, hand in hand with Leonette as they nodded hellos to everyone else around the table as the two of them took their seats at the table.
"About when your mother dropped Loras," Lord Tyrell caught him up, and while Garlan's grin was instant, the third-born Tyrell had caught onto the conversation and was immediately scowling.
"Let it go, it was twenty years ago!" he exclaimed, which only made both of his brothers laugh.
The laughter only ceased when Lady Tyrell arrived and took the seat next to her husband, as if her sons didn't want her to know they had been laughing at her two-decade-old blunder. By that point Eddmina felt far less awkward, and Sansa and Harrion had appeared too, taking their place on the Stark side of the table. Sansa looked desperate to talk to her but the food had been served, and suddenly everyone was busy eating. Eddmina ate the stew in silence, paying attention to the conversations around her. Her mother was talking to her uncles, reminising about the past, her brother was deep in conversation with the Westerlings and Harrion, discussing some battle from a few months back, while the Tyrell brothers were banterously bickering, and Leonette was telling Sansa animatedly about the seasonal festivals that the Reach hold each year.
"You will have to come visit for the next harvest," Leonette told her, earning a bright grin and enthusiastic nod from Sansa, her expression reminding Eddmina of the girl her sister had been before the capital. "You're welcome anytime, of course, but the parades and the festival, you would love it."
The idea of fun and celebration seemed almost alien after over a year of war, but Eddmina managed to smile along whenever she noticed Leonette or Sansa glance over at her. She hadn't even realised all the traditions of the Reach, and suddenly felt rather overwhelmed at the prospect of returning there while still knowing nothing of it. Had she really been so stubborn to learn so little about the kingdom she would one day help her husband govern, had she really let her northern pride get in the way of her marital duty? Her love of being a northerner and determination of staying true to her roots hadn't stopped her starting to think of Highgarden as home, but it had stunted her understanding of the land, and she yet again felt out of her depth when considering what the future held.
She continued to eat in silence as she thought everything through, desperately trying to take in every last little detail of the evening as she knew it would be her last time in that hall with those people for a long time, yet her worries for the future were starting to grate on her. As she glanced across the table to see Robb laughing at some jest by one of the Westerling boys, she wondered when she would next see him so happy. When she looked over to see Willas and his brothers attempting to get Uther to say their names, she wondered if her son would ever get the life he deserved. When she heard Sansa tell Leonette that she would love to visit whenever possible, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever be free to visit after liberating the north and beginning her ladyship in the Karhold. She wanted to savour the dinner, to laugh and to enjoy it while it lasted so that she could look back on the last supper with everyone fondly, but it was far too bittersweet, and she couldn't help but feel a stinging inside, knowing that it was the last time for a long time.
Somehow she noticed that her Uncle Brynden had been staring at her, and when she caught his eye, he offered her a reassuring nod. She didn't know if he had figured out her melancoly mood, but his expression was far from cheery too, and she decided that was solidarity enough.
"I suppose we best discuss tomorrow," Robb decided after all the plates had been cleared away.
At his words, Willas grimaced, taking a swig of wine from the goblet in front of him. Eddmina wondered if he had meant to tighten his grip on Uther, or if it had been subconscious, the mere mention of visiting the Twins making him protective, but either way she pulled herself out of her own thoughts long enough to place her hand on her husband's.
"You shouldn't take Jeyne," Eddmina spoke up, looking at her brother before glancing to his disappointed-looking wife. "Apologies, your grace, but I don't think your presence at such an occassion will help. You would do better staying here."
"I should stay with Robb," she replied, stubborn and protective. Eddmina would have admired it as strength, were it not problematic for the plan. "It's my duty, as his wife and the Queen."
"Aye, it is, but I don't know if the Freys will like that," Brynden stated, voicing Eddmina's exact thoughts, and she was glad that both her mother and Robb nodded along too. "With his grace's leave, I will be staying behind here to keep watch on Riverrun, and you are welcome to remain with me."
Jeyne did not care for that idea at all, but Robb whispered something to her and she remained quiet. She frowned, she looked unhappy, but she said nothing else, and Eddmina couldn't help but admire it. She clearly cared enough about Robb to want to stay with him. It reminded Eddmina of when Robb had asked Willas to go to the Stormlands, and how she had been so sad to think of them being separated yet didn't get in the way of their duty. Perhaps Jeyne was finally getting used to being a Queen and not just a wife.
Jeyne stayed silent for the rest of the conversation, as the topic fell onto war. Eddmina wished they were having the conversation in the study where she kept all of their maps, but it hardly mattered, not when she had spent enough days and sleepless nights staring at it to the point she had the whole continent practically memorised. Plotting and planning was the perfect distraction from her sentimental melancoly, even if she did realise it was the last time for a long time that she and Robb would be discussing battle plans, but it helped her forget what was happening. Focusing on the further-away future helped to distract from the fact she would be leaving Willas and Uther the next day, it helped distract her from missing Riverrun and the life they had settled into without even meaning to. She hadn't noticed that she'd started to think of the place as home, not until she considered how she wouldn't be sat in that hall with those people again, possibly ever.
It was decided then that Sansa, Harrion and Lord Edric would begin their journey back north the next day too, taking the Karstark force, and just under half of the Baratheon army. It seemed foolish to take the whole lot, or at least it did to Eddmina and Robb agreed, not if it meant leaving Lord Edric's own kingdom unguarded. All it would take was the Lannisters to attack the Stormlands and take it for themselves and then they would be down another advantage, which was why it was also agreed that most of the Tyrell army would also remain in the Reach, at least until they were needed for the eventual seige of the capital, if it came to such an attack. Jeyne and Brynden would stay behind in Riverrun with enough Tully men to hold the keep, while the rest of them would take the journey to the Twins. The Tyrells would return to Highgarden, with Loras stating that he would see his family home safe before returning to join the fight, and even though it raised a few eyebrows, Lord Tyrell declared that he would join them at the wedding.
It made sense. He was an ambitious man, even if he wasn't as apt for strategy as his eldest son or as battle-ready as his younger two sons. The thought of attending a wedding that would be populated by most northern and riverland houses was clearly something that appealed to him, because if he was going to join their cause, he clearly wanted to make as many connections as possible. There would be something to gain from each of them surely, or at least that was how Eddmina thought her goodfather's mother would think, and it would be logical that he'd inherited her desire for power. If anyone thought him foolish for wanting to go to a wedding that he'd not even been invited to that all invitees didn't want to attend, no one said anything, not even his lady wife, who's silent protest of a frown and furrowed eyebrows went unnoticed.
"Besides, what sort of man would I be if I let my gooddaughter go to such a thing alone?" Lord Tyrell announced with a laugh, his voice jolly.
Garlan choked and spluttered on his wine to the extent Leonette had to hit him on the back, but she was surpressing a laugh, as was Loras, while Willas was merely rolling his eyes. Lady Tyrell shot them all a look, as if telling them to all behave, but she glanced at Eddmina apologetically, as if understanding exactly why all were so surprised. Eddmina tried not to react, save a polite smile and a nod of gratitude, but she was unsure of what she'd done to suddenly earn his support and friendship after years of distance and distaste. She caught her mother and Robb looking at her, the two of them mostly unknowing of any sort of tension within her and the Tyrells, both frowning as if they didn't understand why his kind words had them all amused or shocked. Eddmina supposed that there was a lot of her life that her mother and brother wouldn't understand.
"Perhaps you being there would help Lord Walder drop any ideas of fostering-" Lady Stark began, glancing at her grandson who had been passed over to Leonette. She had grown bored of war talk and had been distracting herself by playing with the little boy, though instantly looked up when she heard Lady Stark's voice, and how she cut herself off at Willas' grunt of displeasure.
"We're not talking about that, not tonight, not in front of him," he remarked stubbornly, gesturing to his son as his hand took hold of Eddmina's, his grip vice-like. "It won't be happening, anyway. I don't care if we have to marry a dozen of his daughters off to a dozen Tullys-"
"Thank you," Edmure muttered, swigging his wine with a dark grimace; he'd clearly not gotten over his own place in the agreement.
"I might have an idea," Sansa spoke up, her voice quiet despite Harrion nodding at her encouragingly, managing a small smile. It was the first time she'd spoken all night, especially when they had been discussing war strategies, and she was looking directly at Eddmina. "An idea out of the fostering, I mean."
"Sansa, if Ser Willas doesn't want to discuss it best save your idea for another time," Robb told her gently, looking between his sisters as he spoke, compassion for Sansa and uncertainty for Eddmina.
"But I want to discuss it, and I want to hear what you have to say," Eddmina decided, nodding at her sister with a small smile of permission, not even sparing a glance to Willas.
"Well..." she began uncertainly, her cheeks a little flushed as every eye in the room rested on her. She swallowed down her nerves and steeled herself, and suddenly she went from the young girl at a family dinner to the woman who had survived the court of King's Landing. "You cannot have him fostered in the Twins, not if an agreement has already been made with the Karhold."
"We made an agreement upon my father's death," Harrion explained as he took his wife's hand. His voice was determined in a way Eddmina had never heard, and there was a compassion to it, a sense of protective devotion that he was hiding behind northern stoicism. "To ensure my house's continued support you not only gave me your sister's hand but offered your son for me to foster. It was settled long ago. I'm surprised you forgot, Princess."
"How can Uther be fostered by the Freys from the age of two if the Krstarks already have a deal in place to call upon him from anytime?" Sansa finished, unable to hide her smile from her sister anymore.
The two had planned it all out so well it was rather remarkable. Eddmina barely registered getting up and moving until she had her arms around Sansa, squeezing her tight and pushing at least a dozen kisses to her sister's face. She wasn't sure if she had ever hugged Harrion before, wasn't sure if it was even protocol or proper, but she didn't care, not as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He tensed for a moment, as if not expecting the affection, but quickly hugged her back. She whispered gratitude to them both, barely noticing the tears that threatened to pour. If either of them noticed they did not draw attention to it, not as Harrion muttered something about it being an honour and Sansa saying it was the least they could do.
"Do you think Lord Walder will really accept that?" Edmure spoke up, as if their joyful relief was poorly timed and foolish. Eddmina shot him a glare. "I merely mean that-"
"You mean that you regret not offering a similar deal sooner," she snapped, but her smile did not die, not as she squeezed her sister's shoulder and looked to Willas. "What do you think?"
"I think we would all owe you a great debt if you did such a thing," Willas spoke seriously, looking as if he did not know what to think, not as he was overwhelmed with relief.
"The amount you have all done for me, for us, it is already a repayment of a debt," Sansa told them both with a bright smile.
A chair scraped against the floor, and all heads turned to see Garlan rising to his feet. Eddmina took that as her cue to go back to her place, though she did not sit back down, instead moving to stand just behind Willas, her hands on his shoulder. His reached up to hers, his thumb stroking over her fingers as both of them looked to Garlan, who's wine goblet was in his raised hand, his signature grin in place.
"Here we go," Loras muttered, rolling his eyes. Leonette elbowed him in the side, though the two of them exchanged a hushed, knowing laugh.
"If all business is sorted, then I believe it is time for us to toast," he offered. "To Lord and Lady Karstark, for saving the day with their quick-witted generosity. To Lords Tully for their constant hospitality over the past few months, to Lady Stark for being a constant figure of strength despite all the odds, to the Westerling boys and our good Queen Jeyne for adapting to this family and this war with such tenacity. To our good King Robb, for leading us to victory so many times, and saving my life in battle more times than either of us would like to admit. To the Tyrells for coming to the rescue at just the right time, to my own beautiful Lady wife for putting up with me, and to my future lieges Princess Edd, Ser Willas the Wise and little Lord Uther, for making the last few months bearable. I would have been lost without the three of you. This war is far from over, even if we are all parting ways, and so I would wish us all continuing good fortune in making those bloody Lannisters shit themselves so much that the seven kingdoms drowns in gold."
"Garlan," Lady Tyrell cut in, cringing at his crude joke, while Lord Tyrell seemed quite amused by it.
"Apologies, mother," Garlan grinned down at her before addressing the room again. "You are all dear to me in one way or other, and so I would like for us to toast to this odd, unconventional, unlikely family that we have formed, without us even knowing or intending."
"How much have you already drank?" Loras called to his brother with a laugh.
"I will pour this over your beautiful hair if you're not careful, Ser Flower," Garlan remarked quickly, winking at his little brother.
"Boys, please," Lady Tyrell sighed once more, though this time with an exasperated smile.
Eddmina noticed her mother's face fall for a split second before she recovered with a small, polite smile. Remarking 'boys' was not something she could do anymore, not if she only had one son left. Three children left living out of six, and those three all left with irreparable emotional scars; what a sad twist of events. Eddmina made sure to look at her with care when she raised her own goblet, glad when her mother returned to expression.
They had lost so much, all of them. The Starks had lost a home, a parent, three siblings, trusted friends, the list went on. Harrion had lost his father and brothers and countless cousins and friends. The Tyrells had suffered their family to be fractured for months. The Westerlings had lost all trust with those who they were meant to trust the most. War had torn through all of their lives and left a wake of chaos and pain behind, yet somehow Garlan was right. Somehow, there had been something to gain. Even wit the strain on her nerves, Eddmina had found a new sense of confidence in herself, knowing she had the respect and trust of men and armies, knowing all her work had paid off. Even with the divides the war placed between her and so many people, it had drawn her closer to the ones she loved and held dear, it had made her appreciate every little thing so much more. Somehow Garlan was right, and she found herself smiling and agreeing that after it all, she knew just how much family meant, more than ever before.
Once they had all met Garlan's toast, he sat back down, a pleased smile on his face as Leonette took his hand and kissed his cheek. Since Uther was dozing to sleep in his aunt's arms, Eddmina took him back gently into her own arms, and sat back down at her husband's side. Willas' arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her close as he pushed a quiet kiss to her temple, his other hand moving to gently stroke the curls out of Uther's eyes. She was so focused on her own little family and the peace that had settled between them at the revelation of not having to give her son away to the Freys that she didn't even notice that Robb had stood, his own goblet in his hand. He was looking at her, but she did not stand to meet him, not as she leaned back into Willas' hold, her hand stroking up and down Uther's back softly.
"Thank you, Ser Garlan, for such a touching tribute," Robb began, a little less certain than the previous speaker; there were few people alive who could match the confidence of a Tyrell. "In truth, I would have been lost without both Tyrells. If not for Garlan I would surely be dead, and if not for Willas and his constant researching and aptitude for strategy, so many of out battles would have failed. Northerners are a stubborn bunch, distrustful of outsiders, and lesser men would have seen that and left, but not these two. For that they have my gratitude and admiration for as long as I live.
"That sentiment also extends to my sister. I have never needed to ask for her help, not as she is always there, even when I do not even realise I need her, which is foolish as I know I will always need her. The day we lost our father I asked her to be my Hand, and I am sure that no King has ever been served as well. No one can match her for dedication or wit, unfortunately for me as I'm tasked with finding a replacement. I have not been the brother nor the king she deserved, but I'll live the rest of my life trying to meet her example. A toast to my sister, Princess Eddmina, the Hand of the King."
She felt her face flush bright red as all in the room recited her name, and she found herself unable to meet anyone's eye, smiling bashfully as she grimaced at the attention. She felt Willas place his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently with affection, but she could not even look at him. She did not care for attention, she never had, and even the praise and adulation from her closest family felt like too much. She had not acted out of desire for praise or for the need to be complimented, and she was so used to the affection felt between herself and her twin going unsaid. She took a deep breath, forced herself to smile, and because she knew it was her last time in a long time with everyone, looked up at Robb. She did not stand, not out of fear of waking Uther, nor did she raise her goblet, not wanting to make a toast, so instead she simply nodded at her brother.
"His Grace is too kind, as is Ser Garlan," she said, feeling completely out of her depth. What had happened to not speaking unless she'd completely thought her words through? Suddenly it didn't matter, as it came natural, and she found herself continuing, "I am lucky that in all the moments I came close to breaking - and there have been many, as I'm sure you all remember - that someone has been there to guide me back. It is no easy task, to pull a nervous wreck back from oblivion, a task I would not like to attempt myself, so for that I thank you all. I wish that none of this had happened, if I could change it all I would, but that is not an option, and so we must continue on until the moment our losses are avenged and our home is our own to rule. I hope that my brother knows that even when I am not at his side I am always his greatest ally."
It was not intended as a toast, yet it was Willas who raised his goblet first, his other hand still squeezing her shoulder. He looked at Robb, stoically unreadable, yet when he nodded at Robb and their eyes met, Eddmina knew it was a look of solidarity.
"To the King in the North," he announced firmly, before his gaze drifted to his wife. "And to the Princess of the North."
His call was echoed, and Eddmina felt her insides squirm. Not one of them knew that she was not to true heir of Robb's throne. Not one of them knew Jon was a Stark and he was the Prince who really mattered. Robb and Eddmina had both decided that the time wasn't right to announce the decision, not before their grandfather's funeral when their mother was already so delicate, and for them all to then make a proclamation of support to her... It would have been the perfect time to reveal the true lineage that they had worked out, but then Eddmina saw her mother looking between her two eldest children, as proud as ever, and she and Robb looked at each other and shook their heads. It was not the right time. They would find the right time. On that night, they would simply let it be, and let everyone be happy and oblivious.
Somehow it did turn into a happy night. They had started the evening sullen and awkward, but as the hours drew on brief conversations became long stories, remarks became jokes, and somewhere in the night a few of the servants appeared with instruments, and they were all treated to music. It was Garlan and Leonette who got up to dance first, then Jeyne insisted on a dance with Robb, and somehow Sansa managed to get Harrion to his feet, Lord Karstark probably convinced by nothing other than his wife's smile. Soon enough those not dancing had begun switching seats, started by Lady Alerie who moved to sit with Lady Catelyn, the unlikely duo falling into deep conversation quickly, and the same happened for Lord Tyrell and the Tullys, and the Westerling boys and Loras. Eddmina only noticed that she was one of the only ones not to move when she felt Willas' arm wrap around her waist, his lips pushing to the top of her head as she shifted position, leaning back into him.
"They all seem to be getting along quite well," he remarked, his voice hushed so no one else could see as they looked out at their families. "Imagine if it had always been like this."
"Things would have certainly been easier," she agreed, watching as her brother twirled his wife around.
"I think I am mad to say that I will miss this," he confessed, his voice quiet.
"Then I am mad too," she agreed with a sigh. "There will be happier times, times when these little pockets of joy are not surrounded by war and hardship."
"And they call me wise," he remarked quietly with a slight laugh, squeezing her close. "Are you tired? Would you like to retire?"
Usually she would have said yes. It was the truth, she was tired. Frankly, she was exhausted, but to admit that and leave felt like surrender, it felt like leaving during the middle of something important, and so she shook her head, glancing at him with a small smile, before she turned back to carry on watching their siblings dance with their partners. She did not envy them, not with her son laid up against her chest and her husband's arm wrapped around her, not with her two left feet, but when the music turned slow she couldn't help but sigh, leaning back into him a little closer.
"When we're home, do you want to get married again right away, or wait until we've had the baby?" She asked, her voice soft and hushed, not wanting anyone to overhear. "It will not be a great fuss, will it?"
"No, we can do it as you want, they are your gods, after all," he told her. "I do not know the traditions as well as you. We will have as many people as needed, then we can go back to our rooms and do as we wish, unless you want otherwise, of course."
"I would like another honeymoon," she told him, remembering their peaceful days in the sun where they did nothing but ride their horses, swim in the sea, and love each other. "Perhaps we can take our boys this time."
"Anything you want, my darling," he kissed her head again. "You deserve it all and more."
She thought he was talking nonsense. She was no great hero, she'd done nothing of bold heroism that warranted the endless praise he put upon her, or the notion that she deserved anything she wanted. She had worked hard, but that didn't make her worthy of foolish admiration, especially when it came from him, who had worked just as hard and given up just as much. Yet, when he spoke so kindly and so lovingly, she couldn't help but think him right, that she did deserve the happiness he promised to bestow to her, all because he spoke to her the way she never imagined a husband to. He was the sort of man she thought only existed in fairytales and songs. He was not perfect, but he was perfect for her, and that was more than fine given her own lack of perfection.
He could say she could have anything she wanted, but did he know that he was all she needed? She wanted safety for her family, her homeland back and ruled by its rightful king, her strategic plots to fall into place. Yet, it was Willas she needed, him and his promises of love, safety and a family. Did he know that as long as his hand was in hers that nothing else mattered to her, because when he was near she felt as if she could conquer the world?
She could hardly say all of that though. Dramatic declarations of love weren't really her style, least of all in front of their family, and so she merely turned her head and pushed a kiss to his cheek. Short and sweet, she hoped he knew what was in her head and how that one little kiss was meant to convey it all. She hoped he would know it, and that would keep them both going for the two weeks they were to be apart.
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