It had been nice to sleep, nice to lie down and rest, but nightmares plagued her as usual, to the point it was equal relief when she woke and heard voices and laughter coming from the next room. Honour was still there at her side, hogging most of the bed, though when she saw Eddmina was awake she thumped her tail onto the bed repeatedly before jumping up and bounding to the door. It took Eddmina longer than her wolf to get up, her back still aching from a night of being on her feet, but when she eventually rose she went straight to her wardrobe, knowing she couldn't go out into the solar still in her nightdress.

She was technically still meant to be wearing black. The rest of the keep was, observing full mourning customs until after the funeral, but Eddmina only had one black dress that hadn't gotten too small and she was saving it for the next day, so she glanced over the rest of her dresses nervously. Wearing grey felt like the obvious choice. Wearing green would be a bold statement she was comfortable with but might surprise others. She hardly wanted to make statements when all she was dressing for was a day in the keep with her family and the Tyrell's, and so Eddmina settled on a Tully blue day gown, one that she could lace up herself even if it did feel a little tighter than the last time she'd worn it. A glance to the mirror told her that her condition was not overly obvious, it was not noticeable unless you were looking for it, but she remembered how quickly it all happened the last time, and knew that she would be needing a new wardrobe sooner rather than later.

Much to Honour's relief that was all she did to dress, not bothering to rebraid her hair. She crossed to the door the direwolf was waiting by and as soon as it was open she bounded through to the living area on the other side. She wasn't a particularly noisy wolf, normally the silent yet watchful type, but she let out a howl as she ran to the table, tail wagging as she ran to where Willas was sat, his mother sat across from him. There was food on the table, which made Honour's excitement understandable since Willas had made a habit of spoiling her with crumbs of their food constantly all while acting as if he wasn't doing anything.

He saw the wolf first, grinning as she licked at his hand, then he looked up and saw Eddmina. Ever the gentleman he reached for his cane and rose to his feet to greet her, while his mother stayed seated and merely turned to her with a warm smile. Neither of them had Uther, which struck panic in her for a moment, until Willas gestured his head in the direction of his room.

"I've just put him to bed," he told her, taking her hand and kissing her cheek the moment she was close enough. "He was exhausted."

"He's not the only one," Eddmina sighed with a small smile. At that, Willas looked almost ashamed, until she shook her head. "It's fine, Will. How many times have I left him with you while I've had to work?"

"The pair of you seem to have made a formidable team," Lady Alerie noted, glancing at their intertwined hands with a pleased smile. "I will not lie, I was a little concerned about how you would make all of this work, him and the war, but you seem to be managing rather well. I'm assuming your family have been helping too, Eddmina?"

"My mother is usually a lot more helpful than she was today," she admitted with a shrug. She felt like a traitor to complain about her mother to her goodmother, but it felt therapeutic, remembering how stressed she had been. "Everyone has been helpful to us, whenever possible. War doesn't exactly make it easy."

"I can imagine," Lady Alerie nodded sympathetically. The gesture on anyone else Eddmina was sure she would hate, but Willas' mother had mastered how to be sympathetic but not at all patronising. "Do take a seat, dear. I've brought you tea and cakes."

The thought of tea made her throat tighten, remembering the last time someone brought her tea to drink in that very same solar. The incident had remained a secret, only herself, Garlan, and Jeyne knew the truth of what had really happened that lunchtime, and Eddmina knew if Willas of his mother found out they would both be furious, so she tried to keep her face straight. That became easier when she caught the smell of it and knew it to be the same one from Winterfell, and then she saw the plate of cakes waiting next to the tea pot, and her nerves were replaced with joy.

"Oh, gods!" Eddmina exclaimed, eyes wide and hands over her mouth. "Did you bring these?"

"Willas wrote and asked us to," Lady Alerie nodded, laughing at how Eddmina teared up and threw her arms around her husband. "I didn't expect cakes to bring such a reaction!"

"Lemon cakes!" Eddmina exclaimed again, squeezing Willas tight before she realised something else. "Sansa! I can't eat these, they're her favourites. She should have them she-"

"She isn't pregnant and hasn't been craving them for months, darling," Willas reminded her, kissing her temple. "Besides, there's more than enough. I've asked for some to be sent to her rooms for when she is done with the meetings."

"You are such a good man," she whispered in amazement, wondering how after a few years he was still surprising her with his kindness and thoughtfulness. "Sansa will adore you forever for that."

"After everything she's been through the least she deserves is a cake," Willas chuckled, before sitting down, gesturing for Eddmina to take the seat next to him.

She did, and before she knew it she had eaten three cakes. Neither Willas or his mother said anything about it though, the two of them deep in their own conversation, catching up about everything they had missed at home. Willas asked at least a hundred questions, about Margaery and his grandmother, the Tyrell cousins, the Hightowers, his dogs, his horses. Eddmina tried not to let it bother her, but her heart ached seeing him smile, seeing his eyes light up, hearing him laugh, knowing how much he had left behind for the cause. She hadn't thought of it all at the start, too distracted by wanting to get her father and sisters home, but Willas had made a great deal of sacrifices for her, something most men would not even consider doing. Unconsciously, she squeezed his hand, and without a word, he squeezed hers back.

"So you will be returning back home with us then?" Lady Tyrell asked after a while, after Willas had come to the end of his questioning.

"As soon as the funeral is done, and once I've helped my brother settle his differences with the Freys," Eddmina explained. At the mention of their deserting bannermen, Willas grimaced and rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. I do not want to deal with them any more either, but it was me who made the initial deal."

"You and your mother," Willas pointed out, rolling his eyes. "Let her see to them."

"On the day of her father's funeral?" She reminded him, eyes narrowed. "That hardly seems fair."

"Most of what you have done since being Robb's Hand hasn't been fair," Willas muttered.

He was most likely right, though Eddmina hadn't spared much thought to it. Despite the thought of the Freys sickening her, it was almost nice to consider that as her last duty as Hand. To assist Robb in putting to bed their disagreements felt like setting the cause back on the right track, and it felt like leaving the war at the safest point. With the Freys back on side, with all other potential allies in Riverrun, Eddmina didn't feel too guilty about leaving.

Willas thought otherwise, though he'd not said anything properly aside from a few muttered comments about not wanting her going near them. It was nothing but bitterness, and he knew she'd pay him no mind and meet with them regardless, but he was not at all happy about it. She wasn't sure if it was because he wanted her to step down already so they could go home sooner, or if it was because she was picking up the pieces yet again, or if it was because of how uncomfortable the Freys had made her the first time around. Perhaps it was all three forming a toxic blend of dislike to their situation, but Eddmina didn't want to discuss it. It would all be over soon enough, and complaining about it would only make it worse.

She decided not to reply in favour of eating another cake; what was the point in iscussing such grim thigs when there were lemon cakes to hand? Seeing her eat and seeing her faint smile of pleasure was more than enough for Willas to get him to drop the topic, as he instead chuckled, his hand still in hers as his thumb stroked over hers.

"I believe that if you could, you would survive solely off cake and cheese," he remarked, making her roll her eyes.

"A woman of fine taste, though I do hope you've saved some for us," a voice called from the doorway.

They all looked to see Garlan and Leonette entering, arm in arm with enthusiastic grins. Garlan always looked happy, somehow always managing a smile or a jest even when the situation did not encourage such behaviour, yet Eddmina hadn't seen him with such a smile in months. Had he been pretending for as long as they had been in Riverrun? Was this him as he should be, light, grinning, looking as if he had just won the war singlehandedly just because his wife was at his side?

"I'd assumed we wouldn't be seeing you two for at least a few days," Willas greeted with a dry, knowing smile, though hissed in pain when Leonette flicked the back of his ear; Garlan had never looked so proud. "Gods. I missed you too."

"Willas behave," Lady Tyrell scolded, though everyone could tell she didn't truly mean it. "Whatever your brother and his wife get up to is none of your business."

"Oh, please, as if he doesn't do the same to me," Willas stated in mock outrage. "Three years of peace then you cursed me to a lifetime of being subjected to terrible jokes and being made fun of."

Garlan wore a smug, satisfied smirk as he took a seat next to his brother. His wife, on the other hand, had wrapped her arms around Willas' shoulders from behind, crouching slightly to embrace him while he sat. Willas placed his hand on hers and leaned around to kiss her cheek, the pair of them grinning. Willas adored Leonette beyond words, and she clearly felt the same, looking as though she was slotting yet another piece of a jigsaw of her life back together. Eddmina waited until they parted to stand and throw her own arms around Leonette, and was instantly relieved that the gesture was reciprocated.

The war had left Garlan scarred in more than a few places, and Eddmina had been sure that alone was enough to earn the hatred of Leonette. She had thought being away from him so long had been bad enough, but seeing the physical evidence of what fighting for the north had done to her husband would surely ruin whatever relationship Leonette had with Eddmina. Yet, when she squeezed her tight Eddmina realised her worries had been foolish. Leonette was the woman who had dinner with her most nights before her wedding, she was the one who settled her pre-marriage nerves and told her that no one could ever hate her, she was the one she shared whispers and hushed laughter with over goblets of wind late at night as they discussed anything and everything. Then there was everything she had done before Eddmina had even met her: defending Willas' honour when he was on a potential deathbed, sacrificing her own potential family to protect Willas' position. She was no great warrior, she was no great strategist of politician, but she was perhaps one of the greatest women Eddmina had ever known. Perhaps if she hadn't been her goodsister, then Leonette would have been her best friend.

"Thank you," Eddmina whispered in her ear, hoping she understood just how grateful she was, for her friendship, for her sisterhood, for everything. "I have missed you so dearly. I thought you would hate me."

"Quite the opposite, I am so proud of you, Edda," Leonette whispered back, squeezing her arm. "You're a hero that the bards will sing of forever."

"I would hate that," Eddmina's nose wrinkled in disgust, making Leonette laugh as they parted, though their arms were still linked. "Tell me everything I have missed."

They took their seats once more, both of them next to their husbands, who were bickering. It felt right, it felt as if they were back to normal, and if Eddmina wasn't wearing a smile so wide that her cheeks ached then she was certain she would have been crying from the pure happiness and relief she felt. There had been a few moments of happiness in the war, a few silver linings and days where she felt happy, but as she sat at the table with her marital family she realised she was having to remind herself where she was, what was happening in the world. If it wasn't so chilly and if there wasn't a fire burning in the hearth, then Eddmina was sure she would think she was in Highgarden, and not Riverrun. If she couldn't hear the distant sounds of men training out in the yard then she would have forgotten they were at war completely. It had all taken up so much space in her head, how had it been so easy to banish the worries and the pressure? How had she coped with so much pulling at her attention?

Leonette told her all about how dull it had been in Highgarden, how the Tyrell cousins were practically oblivious to any fighting until Willas started writing regularly. She told her of how the Fossoways had sided with Renly, then Stannis, then deserted completely, and the strategist in Eddmina wanted to reach for a quill and write to them to convince them onto their side, until she realised Leonette was scowling, and clearly didn't want anything to do with them. Instead Eddmina told her of Uther, of Sansa, of Dacey. She told her about the men mistrusting her then calling her princess, how the archery training fell to her, how she and Robb had schemed all of their battles, and Leonette almost looked jealous.

"You have been fighting a war, I have been playing the harp," she muttered a little bitterly.

"I would have rather been with you," Eddmina told her honestly.

"Oh, please," Leonette rolled her eyes with a smirk. "You would have gone mad after a week. You were made for this sort of thing."

If anyone else had said it, Eddmina might have not liked it but she knew Leonette meant it as a compliment. Roose Bolton had once said something similar, commenting how the war suited her. That had felt like an insult, as if he'd called her cold and cruel, and when she discovered that men compared her to Tywin Lannister, her worries for that only got worse. Yet, when Leonette said it, it felt more like she was calling her clever, more like she was congratulating her.

Either way, everyone else had caught onto them talking about the war, and while Garlan wasn't bothered, it was not a subject Willas or his mother were particularly pleased with.

"Shall we discuss something more pleasant?" Lady Tyrell suggested, sharing a glance with her eldest son.

Eddmina wondered what he had been telling her while she had been sleeping, what she had been told in his few letters home. Did she know that Eddmina was prone to nervous attacks, other than the one she witnessed her almost have only hours before in Uther's room? Did she know to not bring up certain subjects, like Winterfell, and Greyjoys, and Arya, Bran and Rickon? Eddmina didn't want to be coddled, and after not seeing them for so long she expected certain topics to be inevitable, yet when Willas nodded to his mother's suggestion, she knew he was once again trying to divert her attention to shield her. She wanted to think it was sweet, wanted to think that he was protecting her, but after everything that they had lived through in just a year, she also wanted to think of herself as strong enough to deal with a few difficult convesations, especially with people that were meant to be her family.

"Yes! I have something important I want to discuss, very crucial business," Garlan said seriously, leaning over the table as he often did during plotting sessions. Eddmina frowned, expecting dire information, but he wore a dry smirk as he looked to Willas. "Edric Baratheon. Sansa Karstark."

"Stark," Eddmina cut in out of instinct. "She may be Lady of Karhold but she still wants to go by Stark."

"What about Lord Baratheon?" Lady Alerie asked.

"Love at first sight," Garlan remarked, leaning back in his chair with a confident shrug. "He's smitten."

"Now when you say love at first sight, do you mean like you and I or like Willas and that pack of honeybees that once infested the stables?" Leonette asked wearing a similar smile to her husband, until she shot a guilty glance to Willas. "Sorry."

"No, no, perfect analogy," Willas shrugged. "Though for reference, it is a colony or a hive, not pack."

"Lord Baratheon can't be in love with my sister, she's married," Eddmina pointed out. Garlan snorted out a laugh. "What?"

"Robb was betrothed, didn't stop him marrying our good lady Queen, did it?" Garlan shrugged, laughing again when he saw his brother's jaw tense slightly.

"Sansa isn't Robb," Willas said shortly.

"Harrion Karstark is better looking than Edric Baratheon anyway," Leonette remarked. Both Tyrell men were staring at her, wide eyed. "What? He is. Most Northerners are handsome. Edric doesn't even have a beard."

"I am never letting you out of my sight again, especially around all these dashing, hairy northerners," Garlan muttered, leaning over and wrapping his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. She blushed and laughed, burying her face in her hands to hide her amusement.

Willas rolled his eyes and chuckled at their affections, but Eddmina was too distracted by the implication to be amused. She hadn't been there to see the truth of what he spoke of, and she was yet to meet Lord Edric. All she knew was that he had looked at her sister, her little sister who had already been through enough, her sister who was so far happily married. Harrion had been true to his word, and in the weeks since the wedding Sansa had confided in her more than a few times about how good he had been to her.

"I thought he was mispleased with me at first," Sansa had said when they shared breakfast a few days after. "He was so nervous he could barely look at me, then he told me he wanted to wait."

"He did?" Eddmina had tried not to exclaim, trying to hide her surprise and relief. "So did you not..."

"He said he didn't want to until we knew each other better," Sansa said, though she blushed as bright as her hair when she met Eddmina's gaze. "He's a very good kisser though."

Harrion had been good, and kind, and nothing short of a supportive force in Sansa's life. He was quiet and stoic, but when he was with her he always seemed to manage a smile, and the scared girl that had returned from King's Landing has blossomed like never before. Eddmina had seen her go from strength to strength since reuniting a few months before, but after being shown genuine respect from someone that wasn't blood helped heal wounds that no one else could heal.

To hear that someone had been looking at her, potentially lusting over her... Eddmina felt her jaw tighten, and her hand clenched around her teacup. She had wanted to like Edric Baratheon too, she had wanted to trust him as an ally, yet suddenly she was having to consider threatening yet another man.

"I'm sure there is nothing to worry over, dear," Lady Alerie said, noticing how tense Eddmina had gotten.

"She's my sister," Eddmina sighed, releasing her hold on the teacup, embarrassed that everyone was staring at her. Honour, who had previously been settled under the table in front of Willas, edged closer and placed her head on Eddmina's lap. "I think a day is yet to come where I don't worry for her. Especially when it comes to Baratheons."

"I don't think little Lord Edric is any threat, and if he does hurt her, the whole of the north will be after him," Garlan shrugged in reassurance, mostly because his brother was glaring at him for bringing up a topic that had the potential to rile his wife.

"Mina has taught her how to shoot, I think she is more than capable herself now," Willas commented, finality in his voice, as if putting an end to that topic. "Now then, Leo, do tell us of how our little sister has annoyed you so badly for you to flee to the Riverlands."

"Don't be cruel about your sister," Lady Alerie sighed, before she shot Eddmina a knowing look. "Sibling rivalry. You have all this to come, I'm afraid."

Eddmina was on the verge of saying how much she was looking forward to it, how she knew that no matter what insults the Tyrell siblings threw at each other it was out of pure love, but she didn't get the chance, not as Lord Tyrell and Loras entered. No one else stood, but Eddmina did out of instinct, depite knowing as a princess she outranked both of them. She wasn't even sure why she stood, perhaps it was just out of nervous energy, because the moment she met eyes with her husband's father, she remembered how badly things had been between them the last time hey saw each other.

No one said anything, and the two new arrivals seemed to linger in the doorway for a while, until Eddmina tore her gaze from Lord Tyrell to look at Loras, and she cracked a smile to him.

"The pair of you are cluttering up the place," Garlan called through a mouthful of cake. Leonette elbowed him, while Lady Tyrell shot him a stern look. "What? Look at them both dithering! Just sit down."

"Welcome to Riverrun," Eddmina said courteously, her hands folded in front of her neatly, glancing between the two of them until she eventually fixed her eyes on Lord Tyrell. "I hope you had a decent journey. I trust you've spoken to my brother."

"Yes, thank you," Loras spoke first, offering her a smile.

When he finally entered, he crossed the room and took her hand, pulling her into a hug. She remembered all their archery tournaments, all the time they had shared in the Highgarden armoury discussing shooting. He was not the Tyrell brother she was closer to, but she loved him even so, and it was a sweet relief to see him again after so long and so many hardships.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she whispered to him, and though he winced he shot her a small, grateful smile.

"I'm sorry for yours too," he said, just as sincerely. He was still holding her hand, so squeezed it once more before dropping it. "I'm glad to see you. Thank you for looking after my brothers, sorry you've been stuck with them for so long."

"It's been them looking after me," she shrugged, fighting the urge to glance around at her husband lest they thought she relied upon him and mistook it for weakness. "They've been excellent company."

"You must be talking about different men to my brothers then," Loras commented, earning a scoff from Garlan.

"Just sit down already, you prat," the middle Tyrell called, and Leonette leant over and grabbed Loras' arm, pulling him towards the table.

Eddmina wished they hadn't, because that meant she had to finally confront Lord Tyrell. He'd stood there watching her with his favourite son, listening to what she said of his other sons, and she wondered whether he was displeased given the look of faint surprise on his face. He had barely seen her yet she had already annoyed him somehow? She gripped her hands together once more, hoping that no one could tell she was digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands to hide her nerves.

"Lady Eddmina," Lord Tyrell greeted her first.

"Princess," Willas corrected him, rising to stand next to his wife. Eddmina wished he hadn't, not wanting him to get protective. "If Robb is King, that makes his sisters princesses."

'And his brother,' she wanted to say, but not even Willas knew that Jon had been legitimised. 'Prince Jon Stark too.'

"I trust you've reached an agreement with the King?" Eddmina asked calmly. If she talked of politics, then they didn't have to confront the real tension, the real reason why everyone was watching the three of them so intently.

"I thought, given the fact you're stepping away, that any agreements would not be your concern?" he asked, looking at her with surprise once more.

"No, I want to know if I'm stepping away that the war I've spent a long time fighting will not be lost," she informed him calmly, making sure to not break eye contact no matter how much she wanted to. "I want to know that the boys I've spent months training will not be sent off to fight without allies. I want to know that the plans I've spent sleepless nights working on will be fulfilled to their highest potential. I want to know that when I say goodbye to my brother in a weeks time it will not be for good."

The room was so quiet a pin could be heard dropping. The only noise was Lord Tyrell clearing his throat uncomfortably, and Garlan eating another cake. Had it been so awkward in Winterfell? Had she just been so angry and scared she had not paid any attention to anyone else? Gods, she wished she had, then she might feel different, she might not feel as though she was having to prove something.

The Lord Tyrell in Winterfell who told her that her duty was not to the Starks would have told her the war was no longer her business. He would have probably made a jest about her getting involved where she was not needed. Yet, he nodded, almost understandingly, glancing to his son. Willas took hold of Eddmina's hand once more.

"In that case, perhaps we should speak alone?" Lord Tyrell offered, and though the prospect was daunting, she nodded, keeping her face stoic.

Everyone seemed to understand that as their cue, and one by one they all filed out. Loras shot a wary glance between his father and Eddmina, Garlan hit Willas on the shoulder supportively while Leonette squeezed his arm quickly, and Lady Alerie pushed a kiss to Eddmina's cheek. She smiled quickly, as if to show that she was unbothered, confident, collected. The reality was quite different, but if she faked it then it may come true. Once they were all gone, Eddmina took her seat again, glad that Honour had not left as her direwolf nudged at her hands, sitting in between hers and Willas' seats as Lord Tyrell sat across from them.

"The wolf will be coming home with you, I assume?" he asked cautiously, glancing at Honour as she ate the lemon cake Willas held gingerly.

"A month into the war 'the wolf' stopped a Lannister assassin from killing both Eddmina and Uther, " Willas explained, not looking at his father in favour of scratching behind Honour's ears, making her tail wag. "He bled to death from wounds Mina gave him, but had Honour not been there,  she would have died with him."

Eddmina had noticed the Tyrells looking at the scar on her cheek with silent, sympathetic curiosity. They all wanted to know the story behind it, yet not one of them wanted to ask. Lord Tyrell stared at it then, and swallowed uncomfortably. Eddmina tried not to think about how the Lannister's blade had stung as it cut across her face, how he had spat at her and insulted her, how he had asked if anyone would even care if she was killed.

"So you were right then? Your wife really is as mighty as you made out," Lord Tyrell remarked to Willas. His eldest son cracked a faint smile, glancing at her with pride, before his father's gaze fell onto the woman in question. "I wonder, do you know what the men of the west have taken to calling you?"

"'Tywin with Tits'?" she guessed, and exhausted smile creeping onto her face. Lord Tyrell looked shocked, but nodded. "I will be glad when this is all over and I never have to hear that name again. I'm hoping that you'll tell me some good news that means this will be over soon."

"Lord Edric is keen to fight with your brother, he says it it fate, something about your father and his father, so you can count on the Baratheons," Lord Tyrell got to the point rather quickly, for which Eddmina was grateful for, fighting the urge to lean across the table eagerly. "A few of our own banners are not keen on this alliance. A few have already voiced distaste?"

"The Tarlys?" Willas asked knowingly, with a dry smirk and a roll of his eyes.

"And the Oakhearts," Lord Tyrell continued. At that, Willas scowled, though Eddmina took a deep breath and remained calm.

"Tell them Willas is a widower, I'm sure they'll flock to your assistance rapidly," Eddmina remarked. Willas shot her a look of horror, squeezing her hand tightly. It took a moment, but Lord Tyrell began to laugh heartily, and it was almost contagious enough to make Eddmina smile. "That is why they will not come, isn't it? Even so, your army is vast enough that their absence wouldn't be detrimental."

"No," he agreed. He glanced to Willas as if checking for permission before he spoke, as if Willas had the authority on Eddmina being told about the war. Willas merely shrugged. "Lord Edric has suggested he take his force north, to reclaim Winterfell. Your brother suggested that the north may not care for a southerner riding to their rescue, so Lord Karstark has suggested he take his own men with them, with your sister to act as their commander."

'Sansa is meant to come with me,' Eddmina wanted to scream, clenching her jaw so tight her face ached. 'She's meant to be with me, so I can protect her. I can't protect her if she leaves me. How could Robb allow her to be put at risk like this? Mother will hate this idea, Mother will somehow think I'm to blame.'

"Sansa is a Stark, the north will rally around her," Eddmina replied calmly, despite the urge to break down. "Last we heard, Lord Bolton's illegitimate son was trying to conquer the ruins of Winterfell from the Ironborn with a small group of men. I'm sure Lady Sansa, Lord Harrion, and Lord Edric will have more success."

Willas knew she was talking through the pain. She only ever sounded so polite when she was trying to hide something, trying to act as if she was not bothered when in reality she wanted nothing more than to curl up and hide. That was impossible, and it hurt falling back on her old coping mechanism, but it was necessary. She wanted Lord Tyrell to take her seriously, and he would only think her a fool if he saw what she was really thinking.

"Your brother wishes for the army of the Reach to march west, to Casterly Rock, where Lord Tywin is, while he will be taking his own army south, to King's Landing," he continued, ignoring the fact his son was holding his wife's hand in both of his.

"Casterly Rock had been my idea," she confessed. Both men glanced to her with surprise, because not even Willas had known of that plot. "Robb and I thought... The Lannisters have taken plenty from us, let's make them see how it feels. With Lord Tywin surrounded there, the capital weakened by Stannis' attacks and then the north, and I'm assuming with the north retaken, we will hold the advantage from every angle. Before I leave I'm going to help Robb draft terms of surrender for them. They would be fools not to accept."

"You still hold the Kingslayer too!" Lord Tyrell sounded eager as he nodded along to Eddmina's plan. "This war could be over before the two of you even get home to Highgarden!"

He did not notice how she flinched at the mention of Jaime Lannister. Eddmina felt another wave of guilt wash over her as she considered how she had never even visited the man she nearly died with in his new accomodations. Willas hadn't forbade it, but she assumed he would have been highly displeased, and she was not sure she could handle seeing Jaime Lannister again. The Maester had told him his wound was healing well, and her mother's guard Lady Brienne watched over him vigilantly to ensure no other attacks against him were allowed, but Eddmina had tried not to think about him.

Lord Tyrell didn't know that though. There was a lot he didn't know. There was also still a lot he had to say.

"Father, I believe you owe Mina an apology," Willas told him, his voice kind as he squeezed her hand once more. His words took lord Tyrell back a little, as he looked as though he wanted to defend himself, until Willas continued, "Her introduction to this family was shaky to say the least. You made no real effort to get to know her beyond her being the daughter of the King's best friend. You told me she was trouble, and that if it meant things being easier, you would have rather seen me wed to a Lannister. You refused to help her family because you saw no gain in it, you and grandmother both. I am glad you are here, and I am glad our cause seems worthwhile to you now, but I do not think any of us can move on until we clear the air on this."

Eddmina glanced at her husband warily for a moment, though he remained staring at his father, the way they usually did when one of them was waiting for the other to crack and give in. For a moment Eddmina thought Lord Tyrell was going to laugh and call him ridiculous. It wouldn't have surprised her, considering all the other times they'd endured similar conversations.

She wanted to tell him that it was fine, that no apology was needed, then she remembered all the times she'd defended Willas to her own family, remembered how outraged she had been when her mother returned from the Stormlands without him and how Robb had thought it alright. She squeezed his hand in hers, and knew that if they were to truly be the united front they so often tried to be, an apology was the bare minimum. Yet, she could hardly sit there in silence and let him speak for her.

"I am very grateful for you being here, for your offer of support," Eddmina began carefully, stitching her thoughts together quickly as she felt both men staring at her, Willas with subdued pride and Lord Tyrell with the baffled curiosity that was a constant whenever he regarded her. "If it had come a few months earlier perhaps my family might not have suffered so many losses, but I cannot pin the blame for any of that onto you. I know I'm not an easy person to like, or get on with-"

"Eddmina, you're wonderful," Willas was quick to defend, interrupting her as he squeezed her hand tight once more. His loyalty made his father chuckle. "What? She is, I won't let her think otherwise."

"No wonder your grandmother admires the pair of you so much," Lord Tyrell noted, making Willas and Eddmina exchange a confused, surprised glance. "Strong-willed and stubborn as you both are."

"Usually when you admire someone you don't make them feel as though they are disliked," Eddmina found the courage to say, and if her hand wasn't still in Willas' she would have crossed her arms stubbornly. "I think of Highgarden as my home, my lord, but it would just be helpful if I was sure that I was wanted and welcome there by those who rule over it."

Lord Tyrell regarded her seriously once more, glancing down at the direwolf at her feet before looking back up to his son. He nodded slowly, as if taking it all in, and after a moment, he leaned across the table, closer to them both. Eddmina fought the urge to lean away, deciding to give him a chance.

"If I knew when King Robert offered this betrothal to our family, for the heir to Highgarden to marry the eldest daughter of the Warden of the North, that this was where we would find ourselves not three years later, then I would have politely refused," he admitted honestly. Eddmina noticed Willas clench his jaw, and he looked ready to oppose, until his father continued. "I am glad that I did not know the outcome. Our family would be much poorer for your absence, Lady Eddmina, and I regret not seeing sooner how you have both been the making of each other."

Neither of them knew what to say, but when Lord Tyrell held his hand out to her, Eddmina took barely a second to consider her decision. She took his hand, thinking he intended to shake, but instead he squeezed it tight. She had always wondered where Willas' love language of squeezing hands had come from, where he had learnt it as a gesture of trust. Perhaps it was a thing embraced by all of house Tyrell.

"It would be foolish to think that this fixes everything, that we will see eye-to-eye constantly," Lord Tyrell continued. "You were not the sort of woman I imagined for my son, but you're his wife all the same, and the mother of my grandchildren. For that I would like for us to get on."

It didn't mean that he liked her, but it meant he was willing to try. That was more than enough, and Eddmina was willing to try too. She nodded, offering him a smile, squeezing his hand too.

***

Like most occasions of that sort, the funeral of Lord Hoster Tully was a miserable affair.

The customs were different to those of the north, but Eddmina had spent long enough researching and studying to know exactly what to expect, but even so, it was dire. She did not cry though, not as she stood on the dock listening to the septon's droll sermon, not as she stood at her mother's side and subtly took her hand, not when she forced herself to look down into the slender boat that they had placed her grandfather into, surrounding him with items of sentimental value and kindling. Perhaps it helped that the man inside the boat was unrecognisable, looking younger and stronger in death than Eddmina had ever seen him look in life, dressed in his armour and surrounded by Tully banners.

When it came time to push the boat out into the river, Eddmina watched her brother step forward with six other men to fulfil the honour. Seven men did the job, one for each of the gods, all of them being respected banners, but the sight of one of Walder Frey's sons taking the spot that Willas had offered himself for made her want to scowl. All had been in favour of Willas taking part, especially Lady Stark, and it was technically his place as Lord Tully's eldest grandchild's spouse, but the moment the two Frey envoys arrived, the role had to be offered to one of them as a gesture of goodwill. Willas had stepped aside, gracious as ever, despite who it was he was stepping aside for, and the slight intended in the envoys Lord Walder had chosen.

"He means it as an insult," Brynden had assured Eddmina lowly upon their arrival as the two of them ventured back into the keep after the greetings were done. "Sending one of his bastards and the lame son to treat with us. He means it as a slight against Ser Wise and your half brother."

"It's only a slight if we let it bother us," Eddmina had shrugged. "They're still Freys, that's what matters."

Instead Willas stood just behind her, and only touched her when the boat was pushed out, grasping her shoulder and giving it a loving squeeze. If she hadn't been watching intently, she would have offered him a grateful smile, but she could not tear her eyes away. She seemed to cry so easily as the daftest things, yet at her own grandfather's funeral tears were impossible. She hated herself for it, hoping it didn't make her look cold, sure that even her uncle Edmure had wiped away a few tears. Sansa had managed a few too, though she was stood just behind too, at Willas' side with Harrion's arm wrapped around her. Even Jeyne, stood on the other side of Sansa, had cried, and she had barely even met the late Lord Tully. The only other person who Eddmina was sure hadn't cried was her Uncle Brynden, so at least she wasn't alone, though he watched the proceedings stonily, looking hs age for the first time the whole war.

When the seven men were out of the river and back onto the bank, when the King in the North had taken his place back at his lady mother's side, that was when Edmure stepped forward with his bow. He lit his arrow, knocked it, drew, and fired, and the whole congregation watched as he missed. He cursed under his breath, so quiet only those close enough heard, and tried again. He missed, again.

"The wind," he assured them all with a mutter, but his face had gone red.

When he missed the third time, Eddmina caught Brynden glancing at her. When their eyes met, her uncle nodded his head in the direction of the fire pit that Edmure was lighting yet another arrow from, as if suggesting she take a turn. She was quick to shake her head, eyes wide in refusal. Even if she hadn't been advised against archery, even if the boat was drifting away, it certainly wasn't her place to take over. A forth arrow missed, and Edmure cursed louder, and threw the bow at his Uncle. Brynden looked at her again, giving her one last chance. She hesitated, and he held the weapon out to her.

"He's your grandfather, it's your place as much as anyones," Brynden told her softly.

"He's your brother," she shook her head.

'Mourn your brother like I couldn't mourn Bran and Rickon,' Eddmina thought with stinging sadness, watching as her Uncle shot without barely looking.

His arrow found home in the sail of the boat, and they all watched as it caught fire and set ablaze, just as it drifted off into the mist. Eddmina squeezed her mother's hand again, realising that she had barely flinched, and even though the rest of the spectators had begun to turn and venture back to the keep, Lady Stark made no sign of wanting to move. Eddmina glanced behind her, knowing Willas was still there, and nodded at him, silently telling him to go. He seemed reluctant, but eventually gave in, pushing a quick kiss to her cheek before he, Harrion, and Jeyne joined the rest of the departures, leaving just the Starks and the Tullys.

"It's incredibly hard to shoot under pressure," Eddmina was the first to speak up, looking at Edmure, who was glaring at the mist.

"Your father missed twice when it was our father's funeral," Brynden offered, glancing at Eddmina gratefully before looking at his nephew. "No shame in it."

"No shame," Edmure remarked in bitter disagreement, scowling. "Did you not see how the Freys laughed under their breath?"

Eddmina had seen. She'd also seen how they'd looked at all of them, and she'd heard the mutters and snide remarks exchanged under their breath. She'd heard her nickname they whispered as they looked at her, as if waiting for her to prove herself worthy of it. Eddmina had ignored it. Somehow she was good at ignoring things like that, but not all the criticisms she placed upon herself.

"Laughing at a grieving man with a Kingdom and a war effort resting upon him, how very honourable of them," Eddmina stated.

"They've been glaring at me all day," Robb offered, as if the comparison would lessen Edmure's embarrassment. "Staring, muttering, probably cursing my name."

It didn't have the desired effect, and Edmure muttered a final curse and shot one last longing glance at the mist before he turned and began to march back to the keep. They all watched him go, and Eddmina considered going after him, but realised it would not just be to offer comfort but to avoid discussing exactly why the Freys had been glaring at Robb. 

"Make sure you don't let them cross paths with your Queen," Brynden advised, making the topic completely unavoidable. "Keep them away from the Tyrells too, and Lord Edric."

"Garlan's keeping them all as far away from them as possible," Eddmina nodded, and Byrnden looked pleased that she had already thought ahead. "I want the alliance back as much as the rest of us but I don't want them anywhere near Uther."

'Or me,' she thought, remembering with dread how she'd woken up that morning in a cold sweat after enduring a strange, strangling dream where she was roaming the cold halls of the Twins, her ears ringing with the sound of someone crying.

"Well planned, Edda," Brynden flashed her a quick smile and nod before returning to his stern demeanour. "They want to discuss terms, as soon as we are done here."

None of them wanted to be done, though. Lady Stark still made no sign that she was able to move from her spot, still staring at the mist. Eddmina wondered if she was willing the boat to return, for Lord Tully to come back alive and well. Perhaps he would come back with Bran, Rickon, and Arya too, maybe even with Father. How sweet it would be, how impossible it was.

Sansa was just as still, though she was not looking at the fog. Instead she was staring down at the ripples of the river, deep in thought, as if she had checked out and was not listening to any of them, and the water was just the first thing her eyes had landed on. Sometimes when Eddmina looked at her sister she wanted nothing more than to see inside her mind, see how her thoughts worked and where they took her. She was sure there was so much she didn't share, so much she hadn't told them from the capital. She was still so sweet, so kind, so her, yet she was harder, stronger, and if Eddmina wasn't so desperate to keep her safe she would surely feel nothing but pride.

In the end it was Brynden who made the first move, placing his hand on Lady Stark's shoulder and giving it a loving squeeze as he leant round her, pushing a kiss to her cheek. When he was done, he turned to Eddmina and Robb, giving them both a simple nod. He said no words of farewell, but he didn't need to, as they all knew he was going to find Edmure, then going to distract the Freys. They were on borrowed time before they all ended up having to deal with their guests, and Eddmina wanted to get it over with, wanting to follow her Uncle, but Sansa had taken hold of Eddmina's hand, and suddenly her priorities were elsewhere.

"When father..." she began, but trailed off, glancing at Eddmina's face to check she hadn't caused pain already. "I wish he'd had a funeral."

"I wish he hadn't needed one," Robb commented, wrapping his hand around Sansa's other. "I'm sorry you had to be there alone."

"I'm not there anymore," Sansa replied simply. She seemed to consider her next words for a while, glancing at their mother stood just ahead of them, before she lowered her voice and said, "Joffrey made me look at his head, on the city walls. When he told me he'd given father mercy like I'd asked, he made me feel as if it had been my fault, and all I could do was look at his head. This was awful, but... Mother is lucky she got to say a true goodbye to her father."

Eddmina hated that she nodded in agreement, but Robb was nodding too, and they all shot a worried glance to their mother. None of them knew of a stronger woman, but her grief-imposed silence during the funeral proceedings made them all wary. They knew they should say something, yet none of them knew what to say, as Sansa was right. It didn't matter how well they knew loss, none of them had ever been allowed to fully acknowledge the passings of their other loved ones. Bran and Rickon had no funerals, Arya didn't even have the closure of confirmation of death. They were in completely new territory.

"I want mother to go back to Highgarden with you," Robb dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning in close to Eddmina. Sansa nodded in agreement, as if the pait had already plotted it between the two of them. "It's the best option. It will be safe there, and there will be plenty to take her mind off what will be happening."

"I don't know if I will provide sufficient distractions for her to not worry over the two of you," she sighed, knowing she was probably the last choice child for her mother to stay with. "I don't even know if I will be distracted enough to not worry."

It didn't matter if she knew going back to Highgarden was for the best. Eddmina was desperate for an excuse to stay and help the cause. If didn't matter if she'd been the one to initially decide to go home. Eddmina wanted to be with her brother, or her sister, and the thought of leaving them to just go home and do nothing for the cause felt like tearing herself in two. Robb knew, and though he said nothing he looked at her with stern kindness, squeezing her arm. It was meant to reassure her, but instead she was just reminded how she would soon be without him.

"I'm going to head back," Sansa decided, shooting another look towards their mother. "Do you think I should say something?"

"No, it's alright, I'll speak to her," Eddmina reassured them both before looking to her twin. "Give me an hour, and I will come and meet you. We'll face those bloody Freys together."

Robb nodded solemnly, squeezing her arm once more, while Sansa pushed a quick kiss to her cheek. In less than a moment both of them linked arms with each other and began to head back to the keep, trudging up the path so many had already journeyed up, and though Eddmina wanted to race after them, she instead turned back to her mother, and stepped forward to stand by her side.

It was difficult to know what to say, so after wracking her mind for what felt like forever, Eddmina settled for merely taking hold of her mother's hand. She flinched, as if not realising she was there, but immediately squeezed her hand tight. Eddmina glanced at her face, seeing her mother's eyes - an identical blue to her own- still fixed on the most her father's funeral barge had drifted into.

"You could have taken the shot, Edmure wouldn't have minded," Lady Stark spoke eventually. It was a surprising topic to begin with, but Eddmina made sure not to show it on her face. "I would have been rather pleased if you did."

"I'm sorry, I simply thought that I am not a Tully, and if it came between a granddaughter of another house or a brother who had spent a lifetime with him, Brynden had more of a right," Eddmina explained, thinking of her own brothers again. She didn't want to talk about them, but the memories were overflowing, and Eddmina found herself unable to stop from adding, "I don't know what was worse, to lose a father, or a brother. Or, brothers, I suppose."

"When I was a little girl and my father had to ride off to battle, he would always say to me, 'wait for me, my Cat,' and I would," her mother recalled. "I would sit in the highest tower and watch out the window, waiting to see him come riding home. He always came home. I wonder, how many times do you think Bran and Rickon watched out of windows and waited for us to come home?"

Eddmina hadn't really allowed herself to think too match about them. The grief of the little ones was too dark, too consuming, and thinking about the man who killed them and took her home brought on a whole storm of loss that made her head hurt and her whole body itch. Father's death had been a fuel, like prodding at a fire to make it burn brighter, but Bran and Rickon's murders, the loss of Winterfell and everyone in it, that had damn near put the fire out. She'd always been scared to talk about it with her mother, worried that it would have the same effect on her, yet she was the one to bring it up, and though it stung and her chest tightened, she realised perhaps talking about it may help.

"The last thing I told both of them was to be brave, and when I wrote, I told them to be brave too," Eddmina remembered. "They were good boys, they were such good boys. I miss them. If I'd have stayed in Winterfell instead of going south with Robb-"

"Then you would be dead too, Eddmina, you and your children," her mother interrupted, her voice firm as if to remove any doubt and prevent her from spiralling. Surprisingly, she turned from the mist to face her properly, and the hand that wasn't holding hers moved to cup her cheek. "Whatever happened in the past would not have been enough for Greyjoy and the iron islanders to spare you, and if they'd have killed you then I would have been without one of the only things to keep me fighting."

"Mother..." Eddmina began with a frown of shock, unused to such obvious declarations of love or admiration.

"I do not tell you enough, and I am full of regret for the way we are, but if not for you then things would be so different, and I believe we all would be lost," Lady Stark continued, her thumb stroking over the scar on her daughter's cheek. "I am sorry for all you have had to endure, but you have done nothing but lead and be a guiding force this whole war. I wish I had told you more just how proud I am, how proud your father would be."

That was what broke her to tears. Perhaps it was a delayed reaction to the funeral, perhaps it was the thought of leaving Robb and Sansa, or thinking of Bran and Rickon, or perhaps it was the sheer honesty in her mother's eyes, and how certain she was that for once her mother meant it. She cried, and her mother let out a soft, sympathetic laugh, one that sounded like she was on the verge of tears too, but she didn't hesitate to wrap her into a loving embrace.

"Are you going to come with me? To Highgarden?" Eddmina asked through sniffs, not lifting her head from her mother's shoulder, mostly because she didn't want to see the doubt or regret as her mother voiced her disagreement. "I love Lady Alerie, but she's not you. I want you with me. Please, mother."

"Of course, my girl," Lady Stark reassured her, stroking her braid, and it sounded as if she was crying too.

Sometimes Eddmina often wondered if believing her mother would turn out to be a mistake. That occasion was not one of them, and in her mother's embrace, everything felt safe, and she almost forgot the meeting awaiting them back at the castle.

***
Word count: 9635

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