Bedrest was as dull as Eddmina remembered it to be, yet it was far more difficult to deal with when she knew so much was happening outside the four walls of her bedchamber.

Any visitors she had kept her informed. Sansa came each morning and each night and would tell her absolutely everything, as would her Uncle Brynden, who often called by in the afternoons. Robb and her mother were a little more vague whenever they called on her, not wanting to tell her too much to save her from worrying or trying to get involved, and Garlan outright refused to discuss anything relating to the war, and since he was the one who spent the most time with her, she felt like she was often left out of the loop. Even if he did play cards with her and try to teach her the code he and Willas wrote in, even if she was infinitely grateful for his company, she longed for something more.

It felt as though she was a prisoner, though when she mentioned that to Willas on the third day he told her that idea was ridiculous. That didn't stop the feeling, if anything it only made it worse. She had gone from being the Hand of the King, all-knowing and all-powerful where ruling and strategy was concerned in the northern camp and Riverrun, to a simple woman on bedrest. She knew it was for the best, and her body was certainly glad for the rest, but her mind was filled with spiralling thoughts and ideas for what their next strategy could be, and instead of having the ability and the resources to channel her energy into productive planning, her mind was instead left to stew it all over. The first few days were unbearable, and Willas returned from the stables with Uther on the fourth day to find she had written at least a dozen pages of ideas and reforms. He took away her quill and parchment after that, which only caused a minor disagreement. The next day he refused to leave her alone, just to ensure that she didn't attempt any sort of work.

By the end of the sixth day she had gotten used to it, and had almost managed to switch her brain off. While it was initially difficult to focus herself on something other than the war, she realised there were plenty of other things to occupy herself with, even if she was stuck in bed. She took up sewing properly again for the first time since the start of the war, and just in time too as Uther needed new clothes, and so did the new baby. While Uther had grown a sense of wild independence, whenever he wasn't chasing Honour around the room or out with Willas getting his energy out in the fresh air, she cuddled him up at her side and told him endless stories, either reading them directly from a book or telling him Old Nan's tales from memory. When Willas returned to their chamber on the seventh night and presented her with an old lute he had found in a store cupboard, things got easier again. She had left her own in Winterfell so hadn't played at all throughout the war, yet despite her skill being rusty he watched her with a grin and listened eagerly as she plucked at the out-of-tune strings.

"Are you going to play us Danny Flint?" Willas had teased lightly when she fiddled with the instrument, all while he had Uther pinned down on the bed as he tickled him. He was so distracted by their son's delighted shrieks of laughter that he did not notice Eddmina flinch. "Your favourite, and therefore by extension, my favourite."

That had been the song she was singing when the traitors attacked the cells, when she had watched two innocent Lannister children die. The memory was yet to not make her sick, especially when she considered she knew nothing of the punishment the boys' killers were faced with. Sansa had told her they were all still locked away in the cell that had once been Jaime's, while he had been locked away in one of the tower rooms and was constantly being montiored by a maester as his wound healed. Knowing that was not enough though, and Eddmina couldn't help but crave every single detail, even if she knew no one would give them to her while she was meant to be resting.

She sang Danny Flint for Willas anyway, because nothing could take her favourite song from her, and soon her days were filled with music in a way they hadn't been since Highgarden, since the early days of their marriage when Willas presented her with a lute as a late wedding present. She had almost forgotten what a huge part of their lives music had been. Looking back it felt like her whole relationship with Willas was defined by her ability to sing and play, as it was how their trust had formed, how she had entertained in the early days of their marriage. Perhaps her whole life had been characterised by music, since she had so often been asked to sing, not just by Willas but by everyone. Robb always liked the funny songs, and so did Jon, and the two of them had always laughed at the way she preferred the sad tragedies. Leonette, after a few wines, would always try and sing along, even if she didn't know the words, which would result in her and Garlan both dissolving into fits of laughter. Sansa had always begged for love songs, even though she knew the words far better than her elder sister. Her parents never seemed too bothered by her singing, especially not her mother who tried to hide how she would roll her eyes every time Eddmina could be heard tuning or playing her lute, yet the day Willas found her the lute in Riverrun and her mother walked in to see her teaching Uther about the noises each string made, Eddmina heard her try to muffle a small cry and hide the brimming tears.

Whoever came to visit then found a way of distracting her with their song requests, everyone except for Sansa, who claimed she had enough of bards in King's Landing. Eddmina decided to add that to her already-long list of reasons to hurt Joffrey, but said nothing, and always managed to set aside her lute for when Sansa visited, as it was her little sister who always told her the most about what was happening. She had taken to her role as Eddmina's regent with an ease none of them had expected, and it was only in taking on that responsibility of helping Robb govern that Eddmina realised just how much she had grown up.

"Lord Karstark is going to be executed tomorrow evening," Sansa told her on the first morning of the second week of bedrest, sitting on the side of the bed that was usually Willas', braiding Eddmina's hair with practiced ease.

"You've all taken your time coming up with this judgement," Eddmina pointed out. "Why the hesitancy?"

"You said it yourself, we could not afford to lose his men, but to not kill him would make Robb look weak," Sansa explained.

"So we are going to lose part of our army then," Eddmina sighed. "Or have you been using this time to come up with a solution?"

"I have an idea of how to get around it," Sansa said, though her voice was tight and a little strained, as if she was keeping a secret. "I haven't suggested it to Robb, he won't like it, neither will mother, but... you might."

"Tell me," Eddmina turned around, taking hold of her sister's hands, squeezing them tightly when she realised Sansa was trembling. "Whatever idea you have, I'm sure it is excellent."

"Willas told me that telling you would make you worry and you don't need any other reasons to worry," Sansa tried to excuse herself, but Eddmina merely laughed and rolled her eyes, making Sansa sigh and tighten her jaw in determination. "Harrion Karstark. He will be the Lord of the Karhold by the end of tomorrow, and it will be his decision about where his men go after his father is dead."

As soon as Sansa had spoken Eddmina understood exactly why Willas hadn't wanted her to know the idea. The thought of Sansa offering herself to the last male Karstark just to maintain an alliance made her feel sick, especially when she remembered how her sister had thought she might never want to get married after what had happened with Joffrey. The fact she would come up with such a plot was incredibly clever, not to mention selfless, and brave, and while Eddmina instantly wanted to oppose just to protect her sister, she knew it was the only way. Sansa had also come to that conclusion, it was clear from just the determined look on her face. It was the look she used to pull when she was a child, when Eddmina would tell her to stop reading so many fairytales and romances. It was a look that told her she was going to do it anyway, with or without approval.

The strategist in her thought it an excellent idea. The elder sister in her wanted to scream and forbid it. Harrion seemed nice enough every time she had spoken to him, but that was before their brother was going to kill his father. Such an act could twist a person, as Eddmina knew all about how one could change after losing a parent. What if he was cruel? What if he resented Sansa for their brother's action? What if he mistreated her? What if-

"I think it is a decent enough idea," Eddmina spoke against her instincts, forcing a smile she hoped looked supportive. "How do you mean to go about it?"

"I'm going to tell Robb as soon as I leave you, and we've asked to meet with Harrion after breakfast," Sansa explained, though Eddmina noticed her eyes darken. "In King's Landing, after they called father a traitor and imprisoned him, they called me to a meeting too. Cersei, Grand Maester Pycelle, Lord Varys, Lord Baelish, all of them, and they made me sit there as they discussed father's fate, and how I must have traitor blood too. They were awful, they made me feel awful. I won't let Harrion be made to feel like that."

"And what if he turns out to be just like Joffrey?" Eddmina asked before she could stop herself.

Sansa barely flinched, and instead she met Eddmina's secretly worried gaze with cold eyes.

"Then I will be a rather young widow, won't I?" Sansa remarked, and the Stark sister's exchanged a knowing nod.

Eddmina managed not to show any other aversions to the idea, at least until Sansa left. She had been throwing up most mornings anyway, so the fact she was sick after hearing of Sansa's proposition didn't surprise her, and there was no time for tears as another distraction came in the form of Willas and Garlan. They had taken Uther riding that morning and Garlan returned carrying his nephew on his shoulders.

"Your son has a terrible habit of pulling people's hair," Garlan remarked as he set Uther down onto the bed.

"Are you scared he will pull it all out?" Eddmina asked dryly, not even looking at either Tyrell as she leant over to grab her son, lifting him up into the air with a grin before setting him down into her lap.

"Garlan has many fears, and most of them revolve around hair loss," Willas commented, ruffling his brother's hair roughly. Garlan swatted at him, hitting his arm and darting out of the way.

"Fiends, the lot of you," he rolled his eyes. "If you think I worry about my hair have you never seen Loras preening?"

"Of course I have, I still remember the argument you and Margaery had when you told him he'd be bald by his thirties," Willas laughed. "'Don't tell him that, he'll never stop panicking over it!'"

"Bloody, pretty fool," Garlan chuckled to himself before flopping back, lying on his side at the foot of the bed. He gestured to Uther before he added, "He will never have to deal with such traumas if he has inherited your northern traits. Have you seen how hairy some northmen are?"

Eddmina had wanted to mention Sansa's visit to them. She wanted to talk to them about her proposal and see what they thought, see if they shared her opinion of it being equal parts necessary and horrible, yet neither man had allowed for her to bring it up. She wondered if they had done it on purpose, if they had schemed to enter the room and immediately begin a conversation to allow her no chance to bring up something more serious. That had been a habit of Garlan's during his visits to her, and though she normally shrugged it off, that was when she didn't have her sister's welfare on her mind.

Worry for Sansa was eating her up, and she was itching to flee the bedchamber and force her way into whatever meeting was taking place between Robb, Sansa, and Harrion Karstark. She glanced to the door, then searched the room for her boots. Escape might have been easy enough, especially since Willas and Garlan were bickering with each other, the only complication for her was Uther on her knee, yet then she realised her boots were nowhere to be seen, nor was her go-to cloak. Had Willas hidden them, just in case she had any ideas? As betrayed as she felt, she had to respect his quick thinking, as he clearly knew her well.

Would Sansa come back once the meeting was done and tell her the verdict? Would someone tell her the truth of what was said? The execution too, would she be asked to attend? She had no desire to see anyone die, but it was her duty. If she didn't go, if she stayed hidden, would people think her weak? She had no idea of what excuse had been told to the bannermen about her absence, she had no clue of who knew what had happened down in the cells. Would they think that she was dead, killed by Lord Karstark, or would they think that she was a prisoner too, locked away for the crimes of befriending Lannisters? Either way, it explained why Dacey Mormont hadn't called to visit. Had her bedrest excluded her away from the only friend she had, had her foolish visits to the cells made her a traitor in the eyes of someone she so desperately wanted the respect and friendship of?

"Tell me, both of you, what will be the first thing you do when we get back to Highgarden?" Garlan asked, either completely oblivious to Eddmina's thoughts running wild, or far too aware of where her mind was going.

Either way, he snapped her free from the mental spiral, and she looked away from the locked door. He was still laid across the bed, his own boots kicked off to avoid getting mud on the sheets, while Willas was sat on the armchair that had been moved to Eddmina's bedside. There was a tray-desk on his lap, with a sheet of parchment resting upon it and a quill positioned in his hand. Who was he writing to? Eddmina tried to readjust herself to get a subtle glimpse of his loopy, elegant handwriting, but he noticed and immediately set the tray aside, placing it onto the floor with the letter out of her view.

"Have a bath, I assume we'd have been travelling for days at that point," Willas spoke before Eddmina had the chance to question him. He rolled his eyes at Garlan's question, and at his lack of playing along, Garlan leant over and hit him, letting out a groan of annoyance. "Fine, bloody fool. Probably go see to the animals. Take the dogs around the woodlands. They will have forgotten me by now though, I'm sure."

"And you, Edda?" Garlan asked, and she realised both men were looking at her keenly.

She wanted to curse them both and the stupid conversation. They had more important things to discuss, they had a long road ahead of them before they returned to Highgarden, their focus shouldn't be on such trivial things. Yet, before she had the chance to voice her frustrations, Uther tugged on her braid with a squeal, and she glanced down at her son with an involuntary smile. He hadn't deserved any of the war, and he certainly didn't deserve her getting angry in front of him, and so she took a few breaths before she looked at Garlan again.

"Eat at least a dozen lemon cakes with Sansa," she answered simply, though when that earned the quiet laughter of both men she folded her arms. "What? Twice I have been with child and craved sweets, and twice I have been stuck in kingdoms that struggle to grow lemons. Let me for once just enjoy myself."

She remembered her first trip to Highgarden, how everything she looked at made her think of Sansa and how much her little sister deserved it all. She had spent weeks wandering around her new home wishing she could have her sister there with her to enjoy all the finery she had dreamed of. Foolishly Eddmina had thought all of that would have been fixed this time around if she was taking Sansa back to Highgarden with her, but that had unknowingly come crashing down. If Sansa married Harrion Karstark, the only place she would be going was the Karhold, which was colder and far more grim than Winterfell, and not at all like the sweet palaces made of sunshine that Sansa had wanted all her life.

Marrying the new Lord Karstark would rob her of that dream yet again, and Eddmina felt an agonising ache of guilt inside. It was her fault. If she had not been stupid enough to visit the cells and get caught up in the violence, then things would be different. If she had not been put on bedrest then she would not have had to ask Sansa to step into her shoes. If she had been a little less cold when it came to the war then perhaps her sister wouldn't have learnt such a harsh sense of duty that would mean sacrificing herself for the cause. If she-

"Eddmina," Willas called her name seriously, though she hardly heard him until he reached over and placed his hand on her arm, giving her a loving stroke with his thumb. When she looked at him, she could see the gentle concern in his eyes, and the reassuring smile he was offering her. "Eddmina, breathe."

She hadn't even realised that her chest had tightened until he had spoken, and it was only then that she forced herself to breathe. When she did that, then the shivers started, and Garlan leant over and carefully lifted Uther off her lap and onto his own. She was determined not to crumble, insistent on remaining together, but when Willas squeezed her arm, she realised the only way to not fall into tears was to hold onto the fury she had felt burning only moments before.

"You know what she's planning, if she hadn't snuck in here to tell me while you were out, would you have told me at all?" Eddmina asked, her face falling into a stern frown. "Would you let me stay oblivous to my sister offering herself to a murderers son?"

"If it meant you not worrying, then yes," Willas replied with a simple nod.

"Anyone with eyes knows that Harrion isn't like his father," Garlan spoke up. "When he found out that I was there with his brothers when they died, he came straight to me and thanked me for not letting them die alone. He was trying not to cry, and kept apologising to me for it. He told me the one thing he wants to do when the war is over is go home to his sister and look after her."

"Aye, but that was before Robb intended on killing his father, and you'd be surprised at how such a loss can change a person," Eddmina countered, trying to keep her voice calm to not let Uther catch onto something being wrong, but the more she thought about Sansa, the harder it became. "I couldn't protect her from Joffrey, I can at least-"

"Protect her from a so-far amiable man who is the key to us keeping a third of our army?" Willas cut in, his eyebrow raised. He hadn't intended on it, but she felt patronised, which only frustrated her more. "Mina, Harrion Karstark is not Joffrey Baratheon. Sansa is a smart girl, she knows what she is doing. You said yourself that killing Lord Rickard Karstark would make his men lose faith and leave. If Sansa marries Harrion and becomes Lady Karstark, then she gives them a reason to stay, she reties the family to Robb. What would you do instead?"

"I would..." she began, but trailed off when she realised with a cold rush that she would do the exact same.

If she were free to, she would offer her hand to Harrion herself. It would have been her duty, and it would have been the only way. She would have been the one to suggest it, just as Sansa was. It was blind devotion to duty, and to know that her sister had that trait too, whether it was passed down to her from their father or she learnt it from watching her, Eddmina felt numb and hollow. Her hands shot up to bury her face, and Willas leantover to place his hand on her shoulder, and his lips on her temple.

"Do you know what would happen to Harrion Karstark if he even thought of mistreating your sister?" Garlan said, and his voice was so serious that it made Eddmina look up at him. His usually permanent smile was gone, and was replaced with a protective stare. "I promise, nothing bad will happen to her."

"But what about when we leave?" Eddmina argued, the thought of leaving her sister behind breaking her heart.

"We will take her with us, as planned, until the war is over, what happens afterwards is her decision," Willas explained calmly, stroking her arm again so she would look at him. "It is the only way, Mina. I wish it wasn't, we all do, but Sansa is no fool. She is most definitely your sister."

Eddmina tried to see his words as the compliment he intended them to be, but she couldn't help struggle. Sansa was not like her. She was sweet and kind, and always hopeful. The Sansa she had grown up with always saw the best in people, and dreamed of a life where everything was nice. Eddmina wasn't particularly a pessimist, but she had always been realistic when it came to the world, and to think Sansa had matured into possessing a similar view hurt. It felt like another loss.

It took a good few hours, but Eddmina eventually managed to put aside her difficulties and accept Sansa's decision. She had almost convinced herself to take pride in her sister's selflessness and bravery when Lady Stark burst in. The two Tyrells and Uther were still there, though upon seeing the agonising anger in her eyes and how she stormed over to the edge of the bed, Garlan shot up. He looked nervously over to Willas, who nodded his head in the direction of the door.

"Perhaps I'll go take my favourite nephew for a walk to the stables," Garlan excused himself, heaving Uther into his arms. "Brother, care to join me?"

"I think he'll stay," Eddmina answered on Willas' behalf calmly, before she glanced to her mother with a smile. "Mother, it's lovely to see you."

"How could you?" her mother seethed. "How could you not tell me something like that had happened? How could you keep something like that from me?"

Eddmina waited until Garlan had left and the door had shut before she tried to answer, though Garlan's exit gave her plenty of time to think, as she realised she had no idea what her mother was talking about. She assumed it was something to do with Sansa, as her mother was only ever that angry when it came to protecting her children - especially Robb, or Sansa, or the younger ones when they had been at home - yet the way she spoke, her choice of words... Eddmina couldn't help but frown.

"Sansa has proposed that to keep the alliance with the Karstarks that she marry the new Lord, Harrion," Lady Stark explained, her tone almost mocking, as if she was dumbing the subject down for her. Without a sound, Willas pulled himself up from his arm chair and moved closer to Eddmina's side, his hand on her shoulder. "Robb has agreed, as has the new Lord Karstark. Sansa says her plan has your approval."

"I do approve," Eddmina nodded, because no matter her reservations, she would always have Sansa's back. "She told me this morning, I don't see how I have kept anything from you."

"The fact you're happy to see her wed to the son of a man who tried to kill you is one thing, but what bothers me is that you knew she bled and you kept it from me!" Lady Stark explained, and it was obvious how hurt she was, how she felt as if she was losing control, losing her grasp on yet another child. She looked betrayed, and Eddmina felt like she was a child being lectured once more. "I told her no, I told her she couldn't, not just because she wouldn't be safe but because she physically wasn't ready, and Sansa told me she was. She told me it happened only weeks after she arrived here. That was months ago now, Eddmina! She said you were there, you took care of her!"

"I tried to," Eddmina nodded, shivering as she remembered that night. She had slept in her sister's bed and dreamed of happier times, and the memory almost felt bittersweet. "I'm her sister, taking care of her is what I am meant to do."

"It is what I'm meant to do, I am her mother!" Lady Stark snapped, and Eddmina swallowed nervously, realising how small she felt in bed, deciding she would not feel as terrible if she was stood at an equal level to her mother. "I am meant to be the one who is there for that sort of thing, I am meant to know about these things happening!"

"You might be Sansa's mother, but you're also Mina's," Willas cut in, despite both women looking as if they wished he hadn't. "Remember that while you're shouting at her for nothing more than looking after her sister."

"I did not do it on purpose," Eddmina insisted, speaking before Lady Stark had the chance to turn her frustrations to Willas, sitting up a little straighter in the hopes she would still be taken seriously despite being in bed. "It was not like I schemed to keep it a secret. If you had been there and seen how upset she was that night, if you'd have seen how long it took me to calm her down, then you'd understand why I didn't go about announcing that my sister had flowered."

"I wasn't there and didn't see because you never told me, you never called for me! I should have been there!" Lady Stark lectured again. "I am her mother!"

"And I'm her sister," Eddmina repeated sternly. "I am capable of looking after her without coddling her, which is what you were doing in those early days of being back with us."

"If you're ever separated from your children then maybe you'll understand," Lady Stark seethed, not noticing the way her daughter's jaw clenched or how Willas's grip on Eddmina's shoulder tightened protectively.

"Don't bring them into it," Willas advised sternly. "Sansa isn't a child, she hasn't been for a long time, and she knows what she is doing."

"No, you could put a stop to it, both of you, but Edda, she will listen to you," Lady Stark practically pleaded, looking as if she wanted to take her daughter's hand and squeeze it tight, but she instead just kept her distance. "If you tell her no, if you tell her you'll find a way around it, you'll make a different agreement with Lord Harrion, she will take it back and step down! Please, Eddmina!"

Eddmina did not speak. She knew no matter what she said to deny her mother's request would be contradicted by how tight her throat felt, and she didn't trust her voice to not shake. She didn't want Sansa to get married either, but the consequences of revoking her approval would cause too many rifts. It would upset the Karstarks who were already on the brink of deserting, and it would embarrass Sansa who had been trying to prove herself and would leave the situation undermined. Eddmina had been patronised enough to know not to put her sister through the same, even if it meant leaving her in a risky betrothal.

Harrion would not hurt Sansa, Eddmina would make sure of that, and so she kept her face stoic and shook her head. It was what was necessary, and despite the danger and the urge to protect, Eddmina appreciated Sansa's sense of duty to her family. She wished it were unneeded, she wished Sansa could remain a girl for longer, but Willas was right. They had not been girls since the start of the war, and that was why she kept her face still, even when her mother looked at her as if she had just committed the ultimate betrayal.

Would she be as angry if the roles were reversed, if it were Eddmina offering herself to Harrion for the alliance? Would her mother be as desperately mad with Sansa if they were in each other's positions, if it were Sansa that was refusing to stand in the way of her sister's betrothal? No, of course not, and that was what helped Eddmina cope with her mother's disappointed glare. She looked as if Eddmina had singlehandedly broken her heart, she looked at her as if she were a stranger. Somehow, Eddmina stayed silent, and her face stayed still.

Squaring her posture as she regarded her eldest daughter with bitter misery, Lady Stark let out a short sigh before she crossed to the door. She stood in the doorway, about to take her leave, when she turned and looked at Willas coldly.

"I trust I will see you in the godswood tomorrow," she told him, as she left.

Eddmina barely flinched when the door closed, but she did flinch when Willas moved to take her hand. She didn't need to look at him to know he was looking at her with sympathy and hurt sadness. She didn't want to see him looking at her like that, like he was waiting for her to crack and cry. She wanted nothing more than to walk out herself, escape the confines of her chamber and clear her head with a walk in the fresh air, but she knew that would only frustrate him, so she merely folded her arms and glared at the window.

"Stop it," she said after a moment of silence, still feeling Willas' gaze on her. He had at least withdrawn his hands from her, but he'd not stopped watching her cautiously. "I do not want to talk about it, so stop looking at me. Please."

"Alright," he agreed. "Whatever you want, love."

"Why are you meeting my mother in the godswood tomorrow?" Eddmina asked, her voice still tense.

"It's... it is where the execution will be," he explained with a sigh. He hadn't wanted to tell her, clearly, and he looked ashamed at telling her what he wanted to keep secret. "Just before sundown."

"And I suppose I am not invited?" she muttered annoyedly.

"Not unless we get someone to carry this bed outside, and Garlan may be strong but even he is not capable of that," Willas replied quickly, removing any chance of her finding an escape in her rest. He offered her an apologetic smile, despite knowing she would hate it, and not see it at all, considering she was glaring up at the ceiling. "If you wish it, I do not have to go."

"Do you want people thinking that both of us are weak?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, watching as he sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "You will go. If it is what the King has asked then you have to."

"Of course," he agreed, though sounded like he thought otherwise. He sighed again, clearly concerned by how upset she sounded despite trying to pretend like she wasn't. "Are you-"

"Don't ask me if I'm alright," she snapped impatiently, still not looking at him.

She instantly regretted it. None of it was truly his fault. It was not his fault that her family was in a mess and her mother was back to hating her despite months of trying to better their relationship. It was not his fault that she felt useless and incapable. Letting out a short sigh, her head fell into her hands. She refused to cry, knowing that tears would do no good. The only think that would help would be to talk to him properly, and so she looked up at him, offering him an apologetic look.

"I am sorry," she told him, hoping he could tell how honest she was trying to be. "I'm sorry for it all."

"I am sorry too," Willas told her gently, moving to sit across from her on the bed. He kept his distance, and didn't reach out to take her hand or even touch her arm. "I know this is all so hard on you. Is there anything I can do? Is there any way I can make this easier, make you more comfortable?"

"Could you end this war, bring my siblings back, and make my mother not hate me?" Eddmina shrugged, letting out a sad, bitter laugh.

"That would make me a miracle worker, and I've got plenty of miracles I'd like to put into place for myself first," he joked along, though she glanced up at him questioningly. He sighed, before continuing, "End the war, obviously, bring your family back, obviously, then I would give myself a working knee so I can go into battle with my brother, and make my father like me at least half as much as he likes Loras."

"Isn't it a difficult existence being the least favoured child?" Eddmina commented dryly, earning a faint laugh that sounded more like a sigh from Willas. "Promise me we won't do that to ours? We won't make any of them feel inferior or unloved?"

"Never," he agreed firmly, deciding then to take her hand, bringing it to his lips as he kissed her knuckles. "I tried to explain to Uther the concept of being an elder brother earlier but I don't think he particularly cared. He was more interested in some squirrels we saw running up the trees."

"Gods, like father like son," Eddmina rolled her eyes, almost allowing herself to feel amused, despite everything.

Nothing could change what had happened, nor could she do anything to stop what was going to happen. Not from her bed, at least, and so she decided to merely try and accept it. Willas still held her hand, so she reached out with her other one and placed it on his arm, squeezing it gently. When he looked at her it was obvious he was trying to hide his surprise at her gesture of physical affection, as he knew sometimes when everything was a bit too much she wasn't always a fan of being touched. Gestures like that were how he seemed to function, especially when words failed him and he had no clue of how else to communicate his support. A faint smile cracked onto his face, and he gently kissed her knuckles again.

Harrion was a stranger to Sansa, just as Willas had been to her once upon a time. There was still the odd moment of surprise when it came to him, but for the most part she felt as if she knew him. She knew he liked to read first thing in the morning and before going to sleep. She knew he would look at the sky to look for birds whenever they were outside, and would always whistle along with whatever call they were doing, almost as if he didn't even know he was joining in. She knew his cheeks would sometimes tinge pink if he didn't know what to do or say, and he would often laugh at himself as if to save himself from the embarrassment of others laughing at him first. She knew he was bold and brave with a moral code of a traditional knight despite not always being able to perform the physicality's the role demanded, and she knew the silent struggle he faced with that. She knew he was firmly loyal, and a dedicated friend to anyone who showed him the same gestures of ally-ship. She knew he was a good man.

Her family had mistrusted him at first too. Her mother had avoided the Tyrells wherever possible when they first came to Winterfell to lay claim on her. Her silings had looked at him like he was an odd creature come to steal their sister away, and Eddmina had regarded him as a stranger who may want nothing more than to hurt her. How glad she was that she had been wrong and had the opportunity to know him properly. She hoped so desperately that the same could be said for her sister. She hoped Sansa would find the same sort of familiarity with her soon-to-be husband.

Most importantly, she hoped Harrion was a good man. Eddmina didn't want to see her sister hurt, nor did she want any more northern or Karstark blood on her hands.

***

Willas attended the execution on Eddmina's behalf, with Honour, as her representative.

Little did he know that their window provided a restricted view of the godswood, and so she had ventured to the windowsill seat and craned her neck to see. From that view, all she could make out were a few cloaked figures who she assumed were her family and a select few bannermen, and the block. A prisoner was brought to the block and made to kneel, while a man approached - her brother. Even at the distance Eddmina could tell Robb was afraid. He was always better at hiding fear than her, channelling his energy and emotions into something and appearing strong, and when he swung his sword and took Rickard Karstark's head, he had never seemed stronger, as if he was made out of steel and ice.

There was a chorus of howls when the sword sliced through Lord Karstark's neck, Honour and Grey Wind perfectly in tune with each other, as always. Eddmina wonderd for a brief moment if she closed her eyes and focused hard enough if she would be able to slip into a wolf dream and see everything through Honour, but by the time the idea had come to her everything was over, and Robb had disappeared. She didn't see where he went after, not as the guards hauled the body away, but Robb was Ned Stark's son, and the weirwood was just out of her view, and so she assumed he went to pray and clean the sword. Bitterly, Eddmina thought of Ice, and wondered what had happened to the ancestral sword that should have been in Robb's hands. It felt foolish to mourn a weapon when she had just watched a man die, but the man in question had tried to kill her, whereas Ice was a piece of Stark history. Eddmina wondered if Robb thought of the greatsword too, if he wanted it. Of course he didn't, he wanted none of his inheritance, as it meant the men who's things had once belonged to were dead and gone.

Even at the great distance, Sansa's flaming hair stood out. She had tried to hide it with a hood, but the wind had blown it away, and made her instantly recognisable as she offered her hand to someone. He was broad and tall, though he seemed hunched in grief. Lord Harrion, Eddmina assumed, and recalled how she had once watched Sansa fawn over Joffrey through a window. The protective stirrings she felt inside were the same, though thankfully rather than regard her coldly or sneer at her, Harrion took her hand and nodded at her gratefully. Eddmina sighed in relief, and hoped her mother had seen the gesture too, hoping that it would do something to minimise her anger at the whole situation.

It was a strange thing, to wish she had been there to witness an execution, yet Eddmina couldn't help it. She should have been there. She should have been stood with Robb, where she belonged. It would not be long until she left him completely to fend for himself, it felt wrong to be isolating herself from the action when she would be forced to abandon it all soon enough.

"Should you really be out of bed?" Garlan's voice called from the doorway.

Eddmina jolted, cursing under her breath. She turned to see him leaning on the doorframe, watching her with a sarcastic raised eyebrow and the Tyrell smirk.

"Should you really be sneaking up on me?" she shot, glaring at him. He held his hands up in the air with a shrug and a casual smile. "I thought you would be down there."

"It turns out my little phobia of blood has gotten worse, so your dear husband suggested I keep my distance," Garlan shrugged again, and instead of scolding her for being out of bed, he crossed the room and took a seat on the windowsill opposite her. "You can't see it from here, can you?"

"Not the blood, no," Eddmina shook her head, though she kept her gaze fixed on the window, watching as her sister spoke to her betrothed. "My mother is angry with me about Sansa."

"Yes, she's not very subtle about it," Garlan shrugged, and his blunt honesty was refreshing, especially after the last week where he had refused to talk about anything of importance. "I think she's angry about a lot of things. I do not blame her though. I don't think I could have gone through all that you Starks have faced without being a little bitter."

"I'm sorry that you and Will got dragged into all this," Eddmina glanced at him, though he was looking out of the window. When Eddmina followed his gaze, she saw he was watching Willas talking to her Uncles. "The pair of you could have avoided all of this so easily."

"For what? Avoid this war only to be dragged into fighting for Renly, gods save him?" Garlan reminded her. "I probably would have too, you know. For all his faults I liked the man, and I know how he made Loras happy. Even before he entered into a sham marriage with Margaery he was practically family."

"Then why didn't you?" Eddmina frowned, hugging her knees as she leant closer to him.

"Because I like the sport of annoying my father and grandmother," Garlan joked. Eddmina couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Tell me the truth," she asked, knowing his jokes were often a bravado to hide behind.

"There was not as much need to fight with Renly, all he wanted was the Crown, and all my family wanted was to make Margaery a Queen, while you and Robb wanted to look after your family," Garlan explained at last, a sad, nostalgic smile replacing his usual smirk. "Believe it or not, you Stark twins are fairly convincing, and likeable, I could hardly go to the easier option when I knew you needed help more. Plus, Willas asked, and I could hardly abandon him."

"Your life would be so much easier if not for your brother," Eddmina attempted to joke. To his credit, Garlan laughed, as if relieved she didn't want to focus on the grim topic.

"Yes, and yours would be easier if not for your brother too," Garlan pointed out.

The mention of Robb made Eddmina look out of the window again. Everyone else had disappeared from view, except for Sansa and Lord Harrion, who still seemed to be talking. Robb was nowhere to be seen either, though Eddmina could just about see the roots of the weirwood, and stood hesitantly to the side was a slim figure buried under a thick cloak better suited to a Winterfell snowfall rather than a windy Riverlands day. Jeyne, Eddmina assumed, and knew by the way she was stood by the tree warily that she was waiting for Robb. The King, however, was not in Eddmina's view, but she knew her brother. He had just killed a man, and not even his wife could offer any sort of comfort or solace about that sort of thing.

"Robb will be alright, won't he? Without us?" Eddmina asked before she could stop herself.

"Of course he will be, he's the King in the North," Garlan replied quickly.

"He's my little brother," she corrected him. "My last full brother."

Garlan said nothing. Instead he leant over and flicked her arm, making her look at him so she could see his reassuring smile. She had seen him prod and flick at Margery plenty, often earning a slap from his sister that was very much unlike her usual ladylike facade. It was a daft yet caring gesture, and Eddmina realised that while ever she had him, she was not lacking in brothers.

The door opened again, and both of them saw Willas, Honour at his side with her snout persistently pushing into his hand, and though he looked tired and tense, clearly from witnessing a man die, he found the energy to give Eddmina a stern look. With a sigh, she heaved herself off the window sill and got back into bed, though not before going to him and kissing his cheek and giving his hand a squeeze. As she got back under the sheets she had to resist the urge to ask him a dozen questions, especially as Honour circled around him as if knowing he needed the company. He didn't look up for answering any of them, his forehead creased and his eyes darkened, and when he sank into his usual arm chair, she did nothing but reach over and take his hand. Garlan remained in the windowsill, taking advantage of Eddmina's departure as he kicked his feet up and spread out across the whole seat, though he too was watching his brother carefully, waiting for him to say something.

"Have you ever seen a beheading before?" Willas asked eventually, looking between both his wife and brother. Both of them shook their heads, and Willas looked down to where Honour had sat at his feet. He leant down, holding the wolf's head with both hands as he scratched behind her ears. "Not something I will forget in a hurry."

"Father only ever took the boys to watch when he had to go deal with deserters," Eddmina remembered, though the thought of her father and executions made her throat tighten and her head suddenly swam with the memory of his own death that she had seen in her dreams, that her sister had witnessed first-hand. "Sansa..."

"Sansa was fine, darling," Willas reassured her, though he didn't look at her in favour of staring at their intertwined hands. When he did look up, it was to glance at his brother, while his hand went into his cloak pocket and retrieved a sealed note, holding it in the air in Garlan's direction. "Vyman gave me this on my way here. He said it had just arrived from the south. Golden wax, four roses on the seal."

Eddmina barely cared that he had managed to change the conversation when she was still so desperate to know about the execution, not as Garlan shot to his feet and practically ran to them. He took the letter from Willas' hand eagerly, not hesitating to break the seal.

"Four roses, the bloody fool, could she not think of something a little more subtle?" Garlan seethed under his breath.

Eddmina had noticed over the years how Willas only ever seemed to wear one rose, while Garlan wore two and Loras three. Four roses meant it could only be from one person, and despite the obvious breach of secrecy that could endanger them all, Eddmina couldn't help but feel excited to hear from Margaery.

Garlan seemed to take forever in reading the letter, though that was most likely due to it being in code. He eventually looked up at them both with a grin.

"Well what does it say, you oaf?" Willas exclaimed impatiently, his jaw tightened nervously.

"Well she starts by offering congratulations to Edda, and then she makes several jokes at your expense comparing you to dear old Gilbert," Garlan said through faint laughter. At the last part, Willas swore under his breath and turned pink. Eddmina frowned at both men, waiting for an explanation. "Gilbert was a horse that Willas used to own, his prized horse."

"Named after the founder of House Redwyne," Willas cut in, as if the information could redeem himself against whatever else Garlan was about to say.

"He was the finest stud horse that Highgarden has ever seen, he sired a great many foals," Garlan continued, struggling to contain his laughter, and even Eddmina had to bite her lip to stop a chuckle from escaping. Willas merely scowled. "Oh, come now, brother! It is just a jest!"

"Just get on with it, does our sister say anything of worth or did she decide to write for the first time this whole war just to mock me?" Willas rolled his eyes, impatient again.

"Father and Loras have returned from the Stormlands victorious, their alliance with Edric Baratheon perfectly intact," Garlan summarised, rereading the letter quickly to pick out the most important parts. "Did we know that Stannis has fled the Stormlands in favour of making an attack on King's Landing?"

The strategist within Eddmina felt resurrected. She instantly wanted to get to her maps and notes, itching to readjust all of her previously-laid plans. Stannis fleeing south changed everything. If he had changed his focus against reclaiming his homeland to instead try to take the capital, it meant that he was no longer fighting against the forces of the Reach, and it meant everything had changed in regards to the Lannisters too. The capital hadn't faced a single threat during the whole war and was relatively undefended, meanwhile Tywin Lannister had retreated back to the West to regroup after Robb's brutal campaigns.

Without her notes it was so much harder, but Eddmina had memorised the most important parts, and she found herself doing quick sums and visualising her maps in her mind as clearly as if they were in front of her. The capital was where the King and Queen Regent were, that was where Tywin Lannister's family was. He would be a fool to leave them undefended against a man like Stannis Baratheon, but then he would also be a fool to retreat to face a new enemy when the northerners were still running rings around him. Even after being compared to him so many times, it was impossible to get into the mind of a man she had never met. Eddmina couldn't help but crave the company of Jaime Lannister, who would surely know exactly what his father would be planning.

In the end, Eddmina decided it didn't matter exactly what Tywin Lannister would do, as the entire game had been changed, and that realisation was enough to make her smile. The Tyrells seemed smugly pleased too, though Willas was frowning, as if trying to figure out what was coming next in Margaery's letter.

"When I met him, Edric Baratheon was set on reclaiming his father's throne," Willas recalled. "Is he not off on a crusade of his own to King's Landing?"

"No, as he has instead decided it is more important to fulfil previous promises and alliances first," Garlan explained, his grin widening. As both Eddmina and Willas realised what he was saying, Eddmina's heart pounded and her mouth dropped open in surprise, while Willas let out a laugh of disbelief. "And somehow he has managed to convince our fathead father to stay true to his promises as well. Wannabe King Edric is riding to Riverrun, as is our father."

"Bloody hell," Willas breathed out in surprise, running his fingers through his curls. "That means-"

"That means nothing is set in stone," Eddmina decided, managing to reel in her excitement at the prospect of a promising alliance. "We will hear what they have to say first, we will see what they think they can gain from us."

"Robb is yet to lose a battle, Edda," Garlan reminded her. "They have as much to gain from us as we do from them. What was it you said the night he was crowned? 'if any of the other sides see sense, they will come to us, why should we grovel?'"

Eddmina felt her face grow hot at the memory, looking down sheepishly. That felt like another lifetime. Those words were said by a different woman, one who's grief was a burning fire that was fuel for revenge, rather than exhausted and ravaged from mourning. She wished she had not been so bold, but then she thought that if she had read in a history book of another woman being so courageous as to stand up and declare such a statement, she would have thought them a remarkable hero.

"Any idea of when they will arrive?" Willas asked, thankfully pulling Eddmina from her thoughts.

"No mention of it, there's no mention of what's happening at home, and no mention of my wife either," Garlan shrugged, passing the letter back to Willas to read himself. "As always, Edd is right. There's a lot to discuss, the logistics are odd, but if Stannis is distracting the capital..."

"How impossible do you think it would be to get Stannis and Edric to see eye-to-eye?" Eddmina inquired, her eyebrows creased together in thought. "I know you think it was him who killed Renly, I know that complicates things with your brother, but Stannis was the man my father thought should be king. He has a strong fleet, the Reach and the Stormlands have a rich, extensive army that hasn't been used to it's greatest extent, and the North has been unbeaten in battle. If we come to some sort of arrangement, agree that Robb can rule the North independently, then either Stannis or Edric can have the throne and the other can have Storm's End, if we band together..."

Eddmina had been staring off at the window as she thought aloud, but when she drifted off, deciding her conclusion was obvious, she dared to look at both Tyrells. Garlan looked as if he was trying to wrap his head around it all, trying to imagine the possibilities and the potential, while Willas was watching her with a smirk. To him, it was like watching her come alive. He'd hardly noticed her drive and initiative fade away, her strategic mind retreating during her months of grief for her brothers and her home, but then it was back as if nothing had happened, as if it had never gone away. He couldn't help but rise to his feet and take hold of her face, pushing a proud kiss to her forehead. Honour followed his lead, jumping up onto the bed and licking at her cheek.

"You are remarkable," he exclaimed with pride. Eddmina blushed again. "In the morning I'll get you some parchment and ink. You can draft the agreements and treaties we'll need."

"I thought I was meant to be resting?" Eddmina asked dryly with a single raised eyebrow.

"Surely you're bored of doing nothing but singing a thousand verses of Danny Flint all day?" Garlan joked, but he too had caught onto her plan and was grinning. "If we are leaving, then what a legacy you will leave behind, an easy yet impressive end to this whole mess. We should celebrate, toast to the genius that is Eddmina Stark-Tyrell."

Eddmina rolled her eyes, especially when Garlan left and returned quickly with a flagon of wine and three goblets. Eddmina drank nothing but water, but the two Tyrell's toasted to the prospect of alliances, and both got very drunk very quickly. Even when supper was brought to the room - a thick stew of beef and vegetables - it was not enough to keep them sobered, and as the night progressed the two of them fell into japes about better times, reminiscing and poking fun at each other and varying relatives. Eddmina tried to stay serious, knowing there was still a lot to consider and plan, but their merriment was infectious, and she soon found herself laughing along with them.

Neither man mentioned the war again all night, and Eddmina forgot the topic too. It was almost as if the Tyrells had decided it didn't matter anymore. They had been through enough, suffered enough, and with an end in sight and a prospective plan in place it was as good as won in their eyes. The wine helped too, as did the rum that Garlan found. When they asked her to sing and Garlan retrieved the lute for her, Eddmina knew a tragedy would not suffice, and so sang all the happy songs she knew. It felt right, it felt as if the last year had been nothing more than a vivid nightmare, and the only thing that stopped it feeling like they were back in Highgarden enjoying one of their wine and cards evenings was the lack of Leonette. In her absence it was Garlan who drunkenly sang along with her playing, but for the first time in months Eddmina allowed herself to consider the end.

It felt surreal, to laugh and joke as if nothing was amiss. Rickard Karstark had just been beheaded, Sansa was due to marry his son, and her mother hated her once more. So much was still unsettled, but for once, Eddmina allowed it all to slip from her mind in favour of the idea that she might have won. Had she truly managed to outsmart a man like Tywin Lannister? All the cruel jokes, all the names, all the times she had heard 'Tywin with Tits' be whispered about her, yet there she was, with the potential to defeat him and every other Lannister. All the times she had mourned her family and fantasised about avenging her father, and suddenly the opportunity seemed so close. With those thoughts circling her mind, it was impossible not to feel a little victorious.

The moon had risen and the stars were shining when Garlan eventually stumbled off to his own bedchamber, still humming the tune of the Bear and the Maiden Fair, giggling to himself about his sister comparing their brother to a horse. Willas was in no better state. Eddmina had only seen him truly drunk a handful of times, the first being in Dorne when he and Oberyn had paid  tavern a visit and they returned singing songs in Valerian, both of them desperate for the company of their women. The next had been in Highgarden when some Tyrell uncles were visiting and he and Garlan made a drinking game where they had to finish their cup of wine each time their Uncle Garth the Gross passed wind at the table. Leonette had rolled her eyes that night, but Margaery had found it hysterical and ended up having to dismiss herself from dinner early to avoid making a fool of herself. The last time Willas had been drunk was in Winterfell, after dining with Tyrion Lannister. It felt bitterly ironic that the two had become such fast friends only to end up on opposing sides of a war a mere few months later, but on that night they played drinking games and toasted to being societal outcasts, joking with each other as if they had been friends their whole lives.

On every other occassion Willas had an excellent tolerance for alcohol, but that night as he stumbled into bed and immediately drew Eddmina close, she couldn't help but have to stifle her laughter. Even if he was being ridiculous, he didn't like to be laughed at, and so she let him wrap his arms around her and kiss her like it was the first time he had ever seen her. Honour had previously been curled up at the foot of the bed, but she huffed and hopped off the bed, padding over to the window sill and climbing up onto the seat to sleep there, as if she was bored of his drunkeness and didn't want to be the subject of any of his over-the-top affection; she had, after all, enjoyed more than plenty head strokes and belly rubs that night already. Eddmina thought her wise, considering how when he had been drunk in Highgarden he had wanted to go to the kennels just to tell his dogs how much he loved them.

"You are remarkable," Willas told her again, his words slurred slightly. "Gods, I love you."

"You're drunk," she pointed out amusedly, though she didn't stop him when he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close, his head pushing into the crook of her neck. "I love you too, you daft southerner."

"Good," he laughed quietly, one of his hands cupping her belly while his other arm was on her waist. "Life without you would not be good at all."

"That is the wine talking," she rolled her eyes with a smirk, though her hand was on top of his, her other stroking through his curls.

"It is the absolute truth!" He exclaimed, and even though his voice was still no louder than a whisper he managed to sound outraged that she would joke about such things. "When all of this is over, I will go to Old Town and climb the High Tower just the scream from the rafters how much I love you! You're the very reason I was made to exist, Mina."

"Aye, the gods created you just for me," she joked along. "That sounds an awful lot like a fairytale, or a song."

"Someone will write a song for us one day," Willas decided. "There's plenty written for shit people. It's about time good people got songs."

"Well, as of now there is no Ballad of Roses and Wolves, so will another suffice?" Eddmina offered, deciding the best way to get him to stop talking through his wine would be to sing.

He agreed, and she sang a quiet, soft love song she had learnt in Dorne until she felt his hold on her loosen and his gentle breaths turned into quiet snores. He never usually snored, only if he had been drinking, but Eddmina didn't mind. She took the opportunity to study his features, enjoying how still he looked, savouring the peace on his face, a rare expression in recent times. She was still stroking his hair, and when she dared to stop he grunted, so she carried on, realising it was mutually beneficial as they both found the gesture relaxing.

She hadn't realised how his drunken declarations of love had been a distraction until he was quiet and still. The moment he was asleep thoughts of Lannisters and Baratheons flooded her mind once more. The Westeros map reappeared in her head, the itching desire to find a war room and get planning threatening to take over. There was so much to do, so much to think of and plan. There was so much that could go right, but so much that could go wrong.

'Please let all of this work out,' Eddmina thought, staring off towards the window.

Outside under the stars, she heard Greywind howling.

***
Word count: 10826

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