Eddmina was barely asleep when a quiet, hesitant knock came at the bedchamber door.

It was so quiet she didn't know if she had imagined it, but one glance over to Honour to see the wolf's ears pricked up told her it was the truth. That, and Willas was a light sleeper when he was drunk, and so despite his snores had also heard the knock. He let out a grunt of surprise, and was still so tired that he didn't realise Eddmina was also awake. He sat up, sighing as he rubbed his eyes as if willing himself to wake up, though he did not get out of bed until a second knock came. At that, he swore under his breath, and Eddmina watched him through narrowed eyes as he reached for his cane and heaved himself out of bed, wrapping a robe around himself before he crossed to the door. Honour hopped off her own bed and moved to his side, the wolf reaching his hip in height, circling around him protectively.

"Who is it?" Willas called, his voice rough with sleep, and it was obvious he had not fully recovered from all the wine he had drank.

"It's Jeyne," a meek voice called, making Eddmina frown and sit up. Her change in state went unnoticed by Willas, who still faced the door. "King Robb's wife. The Queen."

"Yes, surprisingly I know who you are," Willas muttered under his breath before he opened the door and greeted her properly. "Your grace."

He might have recovered some sort of civility with Robb, but he was still nothing but bluntly cordial with Jeyne. His voice was stiff and empty of any sort of affection, and though it could have easily been mistaken for tiredness by Jeyne, to Eddmina it was obvious it was because of stubborn wariness. Clearly, the sentiment was shared by Robb's wife, who curtsied to Willas as if their roles were reversed and it was he who was royalty.

"Good evening, my Lord," Jeyne greeted him, offering him a nervous smile.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, and at such a late hour?" Willas asked bluntly, giving her a forced smile of his own, not having the energy to remind her he was not a Lord yet.

"I... I wondered if I might be able to speak to Princess Eddmina?" Jeyne asked cautiously, looking around Willas' figure in the doorway to try and spot her.

"You haven't come to visit her all week," Willas pointed out, and it was the truth. Jeyne had been there with her in the Maester's chamber, and had held her hand and sympathised with her wounds, but after that had been completely absent. "Why now? The hour is late, my wife is sleeping-"

"Your wife was woken up by your snoring, dear," Eddmina called, and she couldn't help but smirk when she heard him curse under his breath.

"I don't snore," Willas shot to her quietly, turning to her with a dismayed scowl. Eddmina raised her eyebrow at him questioningly, making him sigh. "My love, it is late."

"Yes, it is, making whatever Jeyne has to say important," Eddmina pointed out. "Let her in. She's the Queen, after all. Who are we to turn her away?"

"The King's Hand and heir, and her knightly consort," Willas muttered annoyedly, and he sounded that grumpy Eddmina wanted to laugh, but Jeyne was there, so she remained quiet.

Even so, he stepped aside from the door, gesturing Jeyne to Eddmina, but he did not look at Robb's wife. Instead he whistled to Honour, and the pair of them exited the room. He called something to her about going to check on Uther, but she knew it was nothing more than an excuse to avoid Jeyne, clearly not wanting to spoil his manners. He knew it was not Jeyne's fault, the situation they were in, but he harboured enough bitterness about spoilt alliances and all of Eddmina's work with the Freys being wasted to hold resentment to the girl, and so decided to remove any chance of voicing his frustrations.

He was subtle with his disregard, but Jeyne still hesitated in the doorway, wrapping her cloak around herself tighter as she glanced over to Eddmina. They had only really spoken a few times, and Eddmina was still trying to figure her out, especially when it came to inviting her in and making her feel at ease.

"I would rise and curtsy, your grace, but Maester's orders I'm afraid," Eddmina attempted to joke, hoping it hid the reality that she was just far too comfortable to want to move.

"Please don't, enough people have curtsied to me lately, and I can tell none of them like doing it," Jeyne sighed with a sad smile. It was then that Eddmina noticed her shivering. "It's a very cold night."

"Wait until you're in the North," Eddmina smiled, remembering summer snows and winter winds. Jeyne's face twitched into a grimace. "That probably doesn't help, does it? When I was travelling down south for the first time Lady Margaery would always tell me each day how 'if you think it is warm now wait until sunny days in Highgarden'. I was overwhelmed and already a little sunburnt, the thought of more heat was terrifying."

"Robb made a mistake in marrying me," Jeyne said suddenly, sounding like she wanted to burst into tears. "I love him, I love him more than anything, but he should have married some Frey girl, then no one would hate him, and I wouldn't feel like such a failure."

'Robb should have married Talisa like he wanted, then he would have still married for love and I wouldn't have felt like such a traitor,' Eddmina couldn't help but think, wondering if Robb had ever told his wife about his Volanti lover.

She could hardly say any of that though. It wasn't her place, and she imagined doing something as cruel as to agree with her insecurities would only tip her further over the edge. Wherever possible, Eddmina wanted to avoid Jeyne's tears.

"You've hardly been married long, you cannot be a failure when you're still finding your feet," Eddmina appealed, hoping that Jeyne wouldn't cry, not knowing what to do if tears did appear.

"Then why doesn't Robb listen to me? Why is he still sat out there in the cold, under that tree?" Jeyne blurted, gesturing to the window. At that, Eddmina sat up a little straighter. "He has not moved since he took the head of that man. I kept asking him, kept trying to bring him inside, but he sent me away. He would barely even look at me!"

Poor, sweet Jeyne. It was obvious she loved him, yet she somehow didn't understand him at all. It was impossible not to feel sorry for her, so out of her depth, so far from home. Even if Jeyne was Robb's wife, she would never understand him the way Eddmina did. Perhaps no one ever would. That was the problem in being twins, no one would ever have the same knowledge of the other, because no one else's minds had grown together like theirs.

"'That man' was one of his bannermen, Rickard Karstark might have shown himself to be a traitor in the end but he was one of the first to call Robb King and he was a loyal man to our father for many years," Eddmina explained calmly. "And 'that tree' is a weirwood. Robb follows the Old Gods, like our father. When our father had to do his duty of executions he would often spend hours after in the godwood. It was his way of coming to terms with such a grim job."

"But it is cold, and-" Jeyne began, but cut herself off when she saw how unconcerned Eddmina was. She changed her approach, and instead of sounding upset, she began to sound tired, and frustrated. "He isn't well, Princess. I am trying my best, I really am, but in so many ways we are still strangers."

How long had they known each other? Robb hadn't told Eddmina anything of his short courtship with Jeyne, other than the essential bits. It was as if he knew it may cause annoyance or bring up old wounds of lost alliances, but in not sharing details, Eddmina was left confused as to why they even liked each other, let alone loved each other. They looked smitten at each other any time they were in a room together, but they were so vastly different. Different culture, different religion, and while that had worked with Eddmina and Willas purely because they took the time to understand and make it work, there seemed to be huge gaping holes in their knowledge of each other. It clearly bothered Jeyne, but Eddmina couldn't help think that rather than setting aside her own view of the world to try and understand her husband, she instead just let the situation pile onto her until the emotions overtook.

"In the space of a year Robb has gone from being the heir to Winterfell, having never fought a battle, in a safe and protected home with siblings all around him, to being a King, with the lives of thousands on his shoulders," Eddmina couldn't help but clench her jaw a little, mostly to help curb the emotion she felt at considering everything that had happened. "Our brothers are dead, our sister is most likely dead, and our home is lost. The day our father died a crown was placed on Robb's head and he became the liege of men twice his age. All we have left is one sister, and one brother who is worlds away, and a duty to a whole kingdom to avenge what has been lost and taken. It has been hard for you, I know, to leave your home and have to adjust to living without your parents, especially after what your mother did, but-"

"I don't think he has trusted me in the same way since my parents left, and I know that I disappoint him because I am yet to give him what he truly needs," Jeyne interrupted, sounding equally defeated and acidic.

She had her arms folded, and even in the dim lighting of the night Eddmina caught Jeyne shoot a sad look at her, her eyes lingering on her stomach. Self-consciously, Eddmina pulled her bedsheets up higher, trying to be as subtle as possible. Was Jeyne jealous? Was that why she hadn't called to visit the entire time she was on bedrest? She had fled the hall in floods of tears when Willas had made their announcement, and Eddmina knew it might have been a sore subject for Robb's wife, but not one to cause bitterness or resentment. Eddmina sympathised, truly she did, to have her fate controlled in such a malicious way by someone she was meant to trust more than anything, but it was not her fault.

"You will be an excellent mother when the time comes," Eddmina attempted to reassure her, and meant it truthfully. Jeyne was kind and gentle, surely those were good motherly qualities; Eddmina wouldn't know first-hand, since she was so sure she was not at all suited to being good and motherly. "That time will come, I promise."

"Robb needs heirs now," Jeyne countered, her voice anxious and sad.

"No, what Robb needs now is a friend, he needs someone to confide in," she offered. "He needs someone to be there and understand him. That might not always be easy, I'll admit that us Starks are a complicated bunch."

"That is putting it mildly," she laughed quietly, and in a moment of courage moved to the bed, perching on the very edge. She looked as if she wanted to reach out and take Eddmina's hand, but decided against it. "He loves you a great deal, Princess. He will not say it, but he is scared for what will come when you leave. He doesn't know what he'll do without you."

Eddmina thought of the prospective Tyrell and Baratheon alliance. She thought of how easy it would be to end the war if they could manage to get Stannis to fight with them. They would have the capital surrounded and the Lannisters on their knees within a matter of weeks. If it all went to plan, there would hardly be a war to fight after she left for Highgarden, and then they would have their lives back. He could go back north and reclaim Winterfell, then after she'd had the baby she could go and visit him with her children, and they could pick up the pieces of everything. They were so close to that being the reality, they were so close to the end.

She could hardly tell Jeyne that though, not quite trusting her with the plans she had begun to strategise. Instead, Eddmina offered her what she thought was a reassuring smile, hoping that would be the end of it and she could either go back to sleep or go and find Willas and Uther, but one look at Jeyne told her their conversation was far from over.

"Will you..." Jeyne began, but drifted off as she regathered her bravery. "Forgive me, I know you have been told to rest, and I know you believe he is fine, but will you go and speak with him?"

"It is the middle of the night, it is cold, and I have been told to rest," Eddmina repeated all of her goodsister's words back to her, though regretted it when she saw Jeyne look down in embarrassment, and was still clearly worried about Robb. "How long has he been out there?"

"All day, and all night," she explained. "He has not eaten all day, nor has he spoken to anyone."

Eddmina sighed, knowing that she wouldn't get any peace if she refused. Jeyne wouldn't leave, nor would she forgive her if she ignored her desperation. It wasn't as if she was tired, and the thought of going outside and getting some fresh air was infinitely appealing, even if it was at the cost of having to go and deal with her brother.

Eddmina sighed as she pulled the covers back and got out of bed, stretching. Her boots had been hidden under the bed, and as she laced them up she considered how in a few months time the task would be impossible, and decided to savour her independence wherever possible. Jeyne watched her cautiously, playing with her hands as she glanced to the window every so often, especially when Eddmina rummaged through her wardrobe to find her thickest cloak. Was she truly so impatient? Did she really care about Robb so much she would ask her to break her confinement then be anxious when she wasn't quick enough? Eddmina tried not to let it bother her, even when she heard Jeyne let out a small gasp and disapproving tut when Eddmina secured her weapons belt around her waist before she wrapped her cloak around herself.

"Who taught you how to fight?" Jeyne asked as Eddmina led the way out of the bedchamber and down the hall, knowing a shortcut to the godswood.

"Your husband, my brother Jon, and many other good men who are no longer with us," Eddmina told her.

Jeyne went quiet, simply nodding. It was obvious her mind was racing, as she played with her hands uncertainly, looking as if she had something else to say but didn't know how to say it. She glanced over at the weapons belt again, and Eddmina could see her curiosity and her discontent.

"My brothers would have never dreamed of teaching me how to fight," Jeyne said eventually, sounding a little bitterly regretful, as well as off-put. "They're both very good with a sword. Not as good as Robb, of course, though Robb always says that your half-brother was always better than him."

'He was, and our mother hated him for it,' Eddmina recalled. Gods, she missed Jon.

"I cannot imagine that either of my parents would have been impressed if I had shown an interest in combat," Jeyne continued, not noticing how Eddmina was still thinking of Jon, and Winterfell. "Do you think, if Robb and I ever have girls - obviously I would much prefer to have boys, it's boys I've prayed for - but if we ever have girls, do you think he would want them to know how to wield a sword?"

"In Dorne, the Red Viper has only daughters, and he teaches each of them how to fight," Eddmina said bluntly, not even looking at Jeyne, not in case she caught the burning annoyance of a lifetime's worth of insecurities in her face as she clenched her jaw and glared ahead. "He is an excellent father, and I would pride myself in following his lead if I was ever lucky enough to have a girl."

"Is it proper?" Jeyne asked hesitantly, sensing Eddmina's frustration, though unknowing to how deep it was rooted. "My brother Reynard would not even duel a man with a shield displaying a woman's image, he said it was unchivalrous. My mother always said it wasn't a woman's place, warfare, a practice yard. She said it was improper for girls to be concerned about such things. She said no one would want a strong, unruly wife, so I always thought, if I ever had girls..."

'"Gods forbid you have a daughter, she may end up just like you,"' Eddmina heard her mother's voice in her mind for the first time in years, and it felt like a hit to the chest. Her jaw clenched unconsciously.

"Who cares about proper when it comes to life or death?" Eddmina dared to glance at her, hoping she wasn't scowling, hoping she didn't look as if she thought Jeyne was a fool. "Look at Dacey Mormont, look at Brienne of Tarth. Robb and I would both be dead if not for the pair of them. Targaryen women were dragon warriors. If a girl is the firstborn in Dorne she is the one who rules, and the kingdom itself was conquered by a woman. In some lands where raids are common and the men are absent the women have no choice but to learn how to fight to protect themselves. Who is it that tells a woman what is proper? Men, the Gods? Why can we not decide for ourselves? If I ever have a girl, who am I to deprive her of learning a skill that she takes an interest in when her brothers would be expected to excel in?"

Jeyne fell silent, though in the darkness Eddmina could make out how red she had gone. Embarrassed clearly, she didn't speak at all as they left through one of the side doors of the keep and began to trudge down the dirt path Eddmina had found led to the godswood. She adjusted her weapons belt slightly, and took the opportunity to brush her fingertips over her stomach. She hadn't said anything, but she was almost certain it was another boy that was in there. Everything felt the same as it had done the last time, and she had been dreaming so vividly of two little boys, one with her look and the other with Willas'; Uther and Eddard. She saw them running around Highgarden, she heard them laughing with each other, she felt how close they were, and she knew that it was only a matter of time before those dreams became a reality.

It was sweet, and it was exactly what she wanted, but talk of girls and the memory of Willas telling her how he would like a daughter made her long for that too. She had never seen girls in her dreams as clearly as she saw the two boys, but whenever they were there, they were not as much visions as feelings, as if they were forces to be reckoned with. Eddmina liked the idea of that, she liked the idea of good, loving boys, and strong, powerful girls. When the war was over, that could be her life, that could be her family. All she had to do was end the fighting and make it so.

"I'm still adjusting to a northern mindset," Jeyne confessed after a long silence, her voice sheepish.

It was not her fault. A Western upbringing was different to a Northern one, not to mention most girls were raised with the beliefs Lady Westerling had instilled. They were not bad, they were just not how Eddmina wished to live, nor how she wished to raise her own family. For a moment she considered she had been a little too harsh, she had perhaps let her insecurities about her upbringing get to her and make her snap at Jeyne when she didn't deserve it. She almost regretted it, until she glanced over at Jeyne and saw her expression was one of someone accepting that they would have to settle to agree to disagree. It only infuriated Eddmina a little, certainly not enough to reignite a debate, and instead she tried her hardest to hide her smirk of smug, knowing pleasure.

Jeyne could think it was improper for girls to fight all she wanted. Jeyne could want strong sons and meek girls until she went to her grave. Her children would be fathered by a northerner, a Stark, and it didn't matter what Jeyne wanted. The Wolf's Blood was stronger than any southern desire. The Wolf's Blood was what made her aunt Lyanna a wild, strong lady who won the hearts of many, and it was what made her sister Arya unruly and strongminded, beloved by everyone in Winterfell. Jeyne's prospective girls were more than likely to turn out the same, no matter what she prayed for, and the thought of those dreams crashing down made Eddmina want to laugh. Her sons and Robb's daughters could be forces to be reckoned with, just like she, Robb, and Jon had been, and the thought made her want to laugh.

Jeyne, however, was none the wiser to her realisation, and was watching her expectantly, as if waiting for her to declare her opinion was not terrible. Eddmina didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

"One of the greatest things that I learnt in getting married was that I could be whoever I wanted, think what I want, live how I want," Eddmina stated. "I intend on teaching any daughters I have that they can do all of that without needing to marry."

Jeyne looked baffled again, and Eddmina remembered the day after her wedding, when Willas' grandmother had encouraged her to speak about Wildlings. All of the young Tyrell cousins had looked at her as if she was mad and dangerous, as if she was a curious spectacle unlike anything that they had ever encountered before, someone so absurd and strange. Eddmina wondered when she had stopped feeling self-conscious and when she had learnt to embrace feeling like that.

They had reached the outskirts of the Godswood before either woman had the chance to say anything else that established their differences, and even with nothing but the light of the moon, Eddmina could make out the figure of her brother hunched over as he sat on the bench closest to the tree. For a brief second, Eddmina was caught off guard, thinking the figure was her father. She had seen him in that pose many times, after all, paying his respects to their own tree, but she blinked, and the vision of her father departed and was replaced by the reality. It was just Robb, who looked much smaller than their father ever did. He looked younger than he had done in months, and she was reminded of the boy who had left Winterfell leading an army.

"Go back inside," Eddmina told Jeyne, mostly because she didn't want an audience for speaking to her brother. Robb's wife looked like she was going to protest, but Eddmina shook her head, silencing her before she had the chance to speak. "Go to bed, your grace. The King and I will be inside shortly."

Jeyne looked hurt, but she didn't say anything. She gave Robb one last, lingering look of desperate love, but he didn't see, his back still to the pair of them, and when she turned to walk off and cracked her foot onto a tree branch, he didn't even turn at the sound. Either he didn't hear it and was oblivious, or he simply didn't care. Robb had been to war, he was always a light sleeper, and he had always constantly been aware of his surroundings; Eddmina highly doubted it was the former option.

Eddmina stood back and watched him for a while, pulling her cloak around herself tighter so that the chilly night time breeze didn't bite as harshly. Robb, Jon, and herself had once made a game as children where, during cold nights, they pretended to be dragons, imagining that the misty air that came out when they breathed was smoke and flame. When she breathed out then and a faint cloud escaped, she felt a bittersweet stinging in her heart, remembering how they had ran around the Winterfell courtyard, calling each other the names of Targaryen dragons, long dead yet very much alive in their history lessons. Their father hadn't particularly enjoyed watching that game of theirs, and Eddmina remembered wondering why he had grimaced and asked them to stop when he heard his eldest daughter call her half-brother 'Balerion'.

As she got older she realised he hated the game because of the rebellion, not enjoying the references to the house that killed his loved ones, but now she was old herself, she couldn't help but miss their dragon games. How simple it had been to imagine oneself as an extinct beast just because of the cold weather. How free it was, to run wild with one's brothers. Eddmina had never realised just how much she had taken it all for granted, especially the company of her brothers. Jon was far away, while Robb had never seemed so distant.

When she decided to approach, she took a seat next to him and did not say a word. She didn't look at him, preferring to look at the weirwood. It had been such a long time since she'd prayed, and she suddenly felt at peace, as if she hadn't even realised how much she had missed it. At some point since the start of the war the tree had started to feel less like a way to be with her gods and more like a way to feel like she was with her father. Robb clearly felt the same, since before he had seemed more inclined to their mother's gods. After everything that had happened, she wasn't particularly surprised that the tree called to him more than ever before.

She understood his need to be there more than anyone, even more than his own wife, to the point Eddmina felt guilty for even agreeing to try and help Jeyne to convince him to go inside. If she had been the one to behead a man that day, if she had been through what Robb had endured, she too would want to wile away the hours in the godswood. She doubted many would understand, even the most devout northerners, so of course Jeyne would never understand. Even so, after a moment of comfortable silence, Eddmina reached over and took his hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Do you still think about him?" she asked quietly, knowing she didn't have to specify who.

"Every day," he sighed, not looking at her as his neck bowed, his eyes closed tiredly. "Even at night, when I'm not dreaming that I'm Grey Wind, I'm seeing them kill him, over and over again."

"Me too," she breathed out, trying not to sound too surprised, enjoying how comforting it felt to know her brother suffered the nightmares too. "Now Sansa's here the dreams are a little better, but I still see his face all the time."

"When did this happen to us, Edd?" he asked with a grimace, finding the strength to look at her at last. She squeezed his hand tighter. "What would he think to all of this?"

"I have no idea," she admitted. "I'm sick of living in fear of disappointing him, but at the same time, I know this isn't at all what he imagined us doing. I don't think he wanted any of this for either of us, but it is far too late to change anything, and we are stuck enduring it all, fighting to get to the other side."

Robb didn't say anything. Eddmina wished he would, just so she would have a distraction from noticing how exhausted he looked. Even in the darkness she could see the circles under his eyes, she could see how pale he was, how he was thinner than he used to be, and how he looked so old yet so small at the same time. It was like looking at him as a child and as an old man all in one. Whenever they had been younger and he stepped up and acted like a lord, she had been infinitely proud, yet looking at him then, she wanted the boy back, she wanted her brother back. The weight of the crown had crushed him, and it made her burn with grief. She had been so aware of what the war was doing to her - freezing her heart, ruining her nerves, stealing her family time - she had barely realised how it had hurt her twin.

"You are meant to be on bedrest, your husband will be furious," Robb commented after a while, attempting a laugh; it sounded empty, and didn't make Eddmina want to laugh with him. "You lasted longer than last time though. A week beats three days, I am impressed."

"I aim to please," she rolled her eyes, avoiding the urge to sigh. "If it was up to me then I would be asleep. Instead, your wife brought me out here because she is rather upset that you have been out here all day."

"I told her not to worry, I told her I was fine," Robb muttered, shaking his head. He sounded equally flattered and frustrated. "Gods she's sweet, too sweet sometimes. She worries too much."

Eddmina wanted to agree. She wanted to tell Robb about their whole conversation the way that they used to tell each other everything. Robb had known everything about Eddmina getting married, he was the first person she told when she realised she loved Willas. He had always known everything about her, and the realisation that there were now gaps in her knowledge of the twin she used to know inside and out stung.

Jeyne was sweet, while Talisa had been a force. The women were so vastly different that it was like comparing night and day. Talisa had been an independent woman who paved her own way in life, while Jeyne's opinion of the role of women couldn't be more different. How odd it was, that he would be attracted to such opposing women, yet, there was Eddmina, utterly devoted to a gentle and thoughtful man like Willas after having an affair with someone as cruel and crude as Theon. Who was she to judge Robb, given her own romantic history?

"That is what happens when you love someone, Robb, you worry about them," Eddmina reminded him. "Hence why I am out here."

"After everything that has happened, I highly doubt that is the case," he remarked with a bitter laugh.

"Aye, miracles can happen," she joked cuttingly, to the point Robb looked surprised. "I am shocked either of us can tolerate looking at the other. It is sickening to just breathe the same air as you."

"You were always sarcastic, but the more time you spend with Ser Garlan the worse you get," Robb rolled his eyes, elbowing her gently.

Even the joke didn't take away the regretful sadness in his gaze. He shook his head, letting out a long, exhausted sigh as his head fell back into his hands. The past few months had shredded her nerves to pieces, but until then she had been blind to Robb's own pain. Had she really never noticed how sad his eyes had become, or had he been better at remaining put together, only being broken at last by one last moment of hardship?

"What have I done?" He breathed out eventually, his voice shaken. "Gods, Edd, I've made such a mess of everything."

"Not everything," Eddmina shrugged, racking her mind to figure out how best to reassure him. He looked at her as if she were stupid, and part of her wanted to agree with him.

"Where do you want me to start, Eddmina?" He snapped, sitting up straight. "Winterfell is lost, the man I trusted like a brother betrayed us both, our little brothers are dead, our little sister has vanished, our other little sister escaped a torturing madman only to surrender herself into a marriage that could put her back in danger just to save my cause, and you..."

"I do not hate you," Eddmina sighed, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

"Then you're a bloody fool!" He laughed bitterly. "I used to think that you never wanted the life of a lady, living in a pretty castle with a husband so nice he could be classed as boring, with enough children to rival Jaeherys and Alysanne."

"If you think Willas is boring then you must've never even met him," Eddmina cut in firmly.

'If anyone has a dull spouse it is certainly not me,' Eddmina thought, but resisted saying aloud.

"Even so, all I've seen these past few weeks is how much you want that life," Robb sighed. "He makes you the happiest I've ever seen you, even in a war, and I've known you all our lives. I barely realised how miserable you used to be until I noticed how you actually smile when he's around. It was cruel of me to never pay attention to everything you did for all of us back home, and everything you continue to do for me, all out of duty, when really your heart wants something completely different. If not for me you'd be living the life you want, yet instead you're here, stuck as a king's hand that runs rings around the king. You don't even want this life yet you're so effortlessly good at it."

"If I am so good then why did Rickard Karstark try to kill me?" She asked, folding her arms tiredly. "All I've done is try to help and make things easier. I'm your sister, it's my job to do that."

"That stopped being your job when you married into another family, Edda," he pointed out, and Eddmina ignored the stinging sensation that coursed through her. "You could have easily left all this behind, you could have gone to Highgarden and ignored the whole situation, but you agreed to come and help us get father back. Neither of us knew what was lying ahead for us, and if we did, I think you would have made a different choice."

"I would have chosen you, every time, Robb," she insisted, reaching out and taking his arm, squeezing it tight with both hands. "It has not been ideal, I wish none of it had happened, I wish I could change so much, bring back so many people, but the one thing I would not change is being with you. I would not have let you go through this alone, ever."

"Then why wouldn't you hate me?" He asked exasperatedly. "Blind loyalty to me is what's stopped you living the safe little life you want."

"I hate some of the decisions you have made, I hate what the war and the crown has done to you and to us all, but you..." Eddmina kept her hands wrapped around his arm, keeping her eyes fixed on his. "You I could never hate. Not sending Talisa away sooner was a mistake. Marrying Jeyne despite everything is something I will most likely struggle with for a long time. Having the Westerlings in our home amongst my family was foolish and could have gone terribly wrong. Not taking me with you to the West and removing me from any distractions of our reality was not your wisest move. I wish you would name an official heir so people stop looking to me and Uther as your next-in-line, just so he can be a little safer. I wish you'd listened to mother about sending Theon to the iron islands, but I can hardly criticise since I was fighting for that too."

"Any other mistakes?" Robb hung his head low in shame, wincing. "You're right, of course, about all of them."

"But you've also made countless good decisions," she countered, gripping his arm tight to show her sincerity. "You are not a bad King, Robb. You're a good man."

"They should have put the bloody crown on your head instead," he muttered, with bitterness and defeat.

Eddmina had never heard anything more horrifying. The thought of being queen, of having to wear the crown that was crushing her brother down... it was sickening. Once upon a time she might have thought different, but that was not the case anymore.

"No one wants a woman who can barely breathe any time she gets worried for a queen," Eddmina shook her head. "I used to be jealous of your birthright. Jon did too, obviously, but I used to want to be Lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North. Then I saw the truth of it, and realised that I didn't want the position, all I wanted was the security of having a home and knowing what I was doing with my life. I do not want your crown."

"I wish you did, so I could hand it all over and have done with it," Robb sighed, defeated again. "Father would be disappointed with that, wouldn't he?"

"Is that why you've spent all night out here? Hoping that the tree can make you feel closer to him just so you can find out if he would like the person you're forced to become?" Eddmina asked, and Robb looked instantly surprised at how accurate her summary was. "I do the exact same myself."

"He's the person I want to speak to about all of this, yet he's the one person I'll never speak to again," Robb concluded, and Eddmina realised the last time she'd heard such grief in his voice was when they visited a godswood just after the news of the execution had reached their camp.

"We will have to settle for speaking to each other then," Eddmina forced a small, sad smile. "This whole mess will be over soon, I promise. Soon, we can about turn our attentions on reclaiming Winterfell, and this will all seem like one huge nightmare."

"What makes you so sure?" He asked cautiously.

"I will tell you in the morning when we have a council meeting, hopefully from my bedchamber so I don't have to upset my husband anymore by breaking bed rest again," she elbowed him in the side, forcing another smile. She hoped it looked like one from the past, like the smiles she used to give him in Winterfell. "For now though, shall we go inside? There is nothing else to be done tonight. It is cold, it is dark, and any mistakes we've made cannot be unmade. Let's go to bed."

Robb looked as though he was about to shake his head and refuse, but he sighed again and found his feet. He offered his hand to her, helping her stand. She didn't need the help, nor would she for another few months at least, but it was nice to feel her hand in his, and it was nice as they were walking back how she let her head drop onto his shoulder. Neither of them said anything as they trekked up the dirt path back up to the keep, but merely being with him was enough.

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