Negotiations with the Hound for Sansa's ransom began the next afternoon. Eddmina arrived late by a mere few minutes but didn't let the stress of it show, not as she entered the great hall and found her Uncle sat at the table, his arms folded and a stern sneer on his face as he sat across from Clegane, who's expression seemed to match the Blackfish's.

As she crossed the room, she took a few deep breaths to steady herself. It was strange, she had spent the entire war feeling almost fearless, knowing she had so much to prove to the extent she rarely allowed herself to feel nervous, but when it came to discussing her sister's safety, she knew it was so important that she couldn't help but get wrapped up in it all. She had wanted Willas and her mother to attend the meeting too, but Willas hadn't wanted to undermine her, and Lady Stark hadn't emerged from Sansa's chambers. Eddmina had made the decision to not invite Sansa, just in case they discussed things that might bring up old wounds, and so she walked in alone. She wasn't alone in the world as a Stark anymore, but as she took her seat across from the Hound, she felt like a true lone wolf.

"The lone wolf dies but the pack survives," she heard her father's voice echo in her mind, making her shudder.

'I am not alone,' she reminded herself. 'Sansa is home, Uncle Bryden is right here with me, and and I have mother and Willas too, and Uther. They are my pack. We will survive.'

"Good morning," she greeted with a smile, hoping it didn't look forced. She looked at the Hound then, looking him up and down as if sizing up an enemy. "I trust you found your accommodations comfortable enough?"

"Aye, honoured guest my arse, did you think I wouldn't notice the armed guards at every door watching my every move?" he growled. "What's the matter, girl, are you scared of me?"

"You call the Princess 'girl' once more and I'll make you scared of me," Brynden defended, and Eddmina tried not to look annoyed at how determined the men were to butt heads.

"It's quite alright, Uncle, there are far worse insults to be called than 'girl'," she placed her hand on Brynden's arm for a second, and when he looked over at her, she narrowed her eyes slightly, silently begging for him to not jump to defend her so quickly. When he nodded, she withdrew her hand and looked at the Hound once more. "The King in the North put me in charge of the running of this keep, one of those duties include organising the shifts of the guards. As you can imagine, there is much here that we need to protect."

"What, like that boy of yours?" the hound theorised, raising the eyebrow that wasn't entirely singed off. Eddmina felt the heat grow in her face as she clenched her jaw, her hands that were neatly folded in her lap forming fists. Insults to herself she could take, but threats to Uther... "The day that girl got the letter saying she had become an aunt she skipped around the castle and beamed from ear to ear. Joffrey quickly put a stop to that joy. You should have heard the things the king used to tell your sister that he would do to your son. The mildest of threats was that he was going to display his head next to your father's on the city walls until they both rot, while yours and the King in the North's would be skewered on top of the iron throne. The most colourful threat... I doubt you've got a strong enough stomach to hear it."

Eddmina felt her blood boil, and her heart was pounding so hard she thought it would break through her ribs. It did not help that the Hound was staring at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to crack. Her Uncle was watching her too, clearly expecting her to crumble as she had done in her study all those week ago, while also waiting for her to signal that she wanted him to return the Hound's insult.

Perhaps his words wouldn't have bothered her if she had not spent the night before dreaming of the possibilities that Uther faced in life, all of them resembling the fates that had fallen onto the other children of history. She had told Willas that she had been thinking about Elia Martell and Helaena Targaryen, and she had heard their screams all night. She had seen how their children died, yet it was not truly them, not as each of them had her own son's face. It was one of the reasons why she had been late to the meeting, since when she woke in a cold sweat unable to breathe, she had no other choice than to lie in bed until the panic had subsided. No amount of promises from Willas as he was enveloped her in his arms was enough to calm her down, and as soon as the Hound spoke of threats to her son, she felt as though she was back in her chambers, battling her nerves once more, yet again surrounded in the screams of historical grieving mothers.

Yet, she was not in her chambers. She was not in a nightmare. She was not Elia or Helaena. She was Princess Eddmina Stark-Tyrell, and she had work to do. She did not have time to sink into the oblivion of fear, and so she hardened her heart, forced herself to breathe, and made a mental note to remember the threat for the next time she saw Joffrey Baratheon.

"Fuck the King," she responded with a cold smile, mirroring his own words from the night before. "I think rather than insulting me you should remember how desperately you want that ransom, and how I am what stands between you either getting a sack of gold or the executioner's block."

"So why don't you just do it then? Call one of those fuckers outside the door and have them cut off my head the way they did your father's and have done with it," he leant across the table, as if to scare her, and despite feeling as if her skin was itching the way it always did when panic set in, she kept herself still and stoic. "You can put my head up on the battlements to rot too."

"Watch your mouth," Brynden snapped.

The Blackfish shot to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. His hand was on the hilt of his sword, and he withdrew it from it's scabbard just enough to make a point. The Hound stood too, though he did not have a sword. He did not need one, he was threatening enough, and as the two men stood staring at each other, waiting for one of them to make the first move, Eddmina sighed, rolling her eyes. She refused to stand, refused to give into their desire for violence.

"Will both of you stop acting like children and sit down?" she glared up at them both.

Both of them stared at her or a moment. She was sure she heard her Uncle swear under his breath, before he sat down next to her once more. The Hound barked out a bitter laugh, but he too found his seat again.

"No matter how much you aggravate me, I refuse to forget the great service you have done for me and my family by returning my sister to our care," she explained calmly. "On my honour as a Stark, I owe you a debt for what you have done in keeping Sansa safe."

"You Starks and your honour, haven't you learnt yet?" he taunted again. Eddmina didn't bother looking at her Uncle to see his annoyance. 

"If you mean have I learnt from my father, then yes, he taught me a great deal," she replied, not breaking eye contact, just the way Lord Stark had told her to. "But all of those lessons do not compare to the lesson that losing him gave me. He would want me to be honourable and just, but do not mistake that for blind trust. I will not be caught out by my honour, nor will I let you use it to scare me. So, let us get to the point and get this over with. What is it that you want?"

Negotiations began, and despite everyone round the table possessing an incredible amount of stubbornness, they eventually settled on an agreement that worked. The Hound was to be given three sacks of gold, which was three less than what he wanted yet three more than Riverrun could really afford to spare. He was to be given a pack of supplies, enough to last him a week, which should see him to the coast where he could board a ship to wherever he wanted. He was to also be given a new horse, and though he had no real preference, Eddmina promised it would be the best one they could spare, and since Willas had been working tirelessly in the stables over his time in Riverrun she knew they were all up to an excellent standard. An agreement was also made that he would leave immediately, though that was where they met conflict once more.

"I want to say farewell to her," he said stubbornly, and he didn't need to say Sansa's name for them to all know who he meant.

Brynden was resistant to the idea, instantly opposing, while Eddmina took a moment to force down her own instinct to keep her sister hidden. She wanted Sansa safe, wanted to keep her to just their family to make up for all their lost time and their mistake of leaving her in the capital for so long. Yet, Eddmina knew it was selfish, and she knew that there was so much to her time in King's Landing that she did not know. She had glimpsed at it through her dreams, but Sansa had lived it. It felt incredibly unfair to send away the man her sister had named her protector without allowing her to say goodbye just because he was dishonourable and a known killer.

It went against every sisterly instinct that Eddmina had, yet she found herself nodding. The Hound was the exact sort of man Eddmina wanted to protect her little sister from, but she had so far failed to protect her from anything, while the murderous hound had been her saviour. Agreeing to his request felt like admitting to her own failure, but she respected Sansa too much to rob her of the opportunity of at least saying goodbye.

"Uncle, would you please make all of the necessary arrangements and have our friend shown to the gates," she said, and though Brynden looked at her as if she had gone mad, she knew he would do as she asked. Only when he gave her a reluctant nod did she look at the Hound. "I will go and find my sister."

The entire walk from the hall to the day solar she knew her family would be residing in, Eddmina contemplated turning around and withdrawing her agreement. She didn't want to give in, didn't want to give the Hound one more prize, especially when this one was so personal, but she had given her word. To refuse after agreeing felt like breaking a promise, and that wasn't particularly honourable. It felt like lying to Sansa, knowing she would be robbing her sister of a goodbye, coddling her to the extent she wasn't allowed to choose to see him one last time. It didn't matter how much it stung her protectiveness, she knew hat if the roles were reversed, she would want the opportunity to choose to say goodbye.

When she reached the solar, she smelt bacon and fresh bread, and felt the rare sensation of sunlight pooling out from the de-shuttered windows. It felt homely, and she was hit by a stinging realisation that Riverrun was the only ancestral home she had left, what with Winterfell being lost to them and Highgarden being so far away. She shoved it away, knowing there would be time to mourn her childhood in the dead of night when only the moonlight would see her tears, and instead took in the scene that awaited her.

Willas was the only one left sat at the breakfast table, though he wasn't eating as he instead had his nose buried in a copy of some horse-care manual, juggling the book with holding Uther still on his lap. The only plate left full of food was to the left of him, and she remembered Winterfell, when Bran was sleeping, and how Willas had saved her breakfast each morning. She would have taken her rightful seat next to him then and tucked into the meat and rolls he had saved for her, had it not been for the others in the room. Sansa was sat cross-legged on the floor in a simple light blue gown, and she was running her hands through Honour's fur, as the wolf was laid on her back, baring her stomach for Sansa's attention. Lady Stark was stood over her like a watchful guard, though her hands were expertly working at braiding her middle daughter's flaming hair, which shone brighter than it had done the night before. It was only when Eddmina entered and Lady Stark looked up at her did she notice how her mother's eyes glittered with unshed tears.

Sansa looked up at her too, and though she smiled she looked uncertain. The spark had gone from her eyes too, as if she had grown up. Eddmina managed to smile back at her, silently grateful that the dress she was wearing perfectly hid the bruises and scars that she was not ready to hear the origin stories of.

"Is everything alright, love?" Willas asked, instantly setting aside the book the moment he caught sight of her.

When he looked at her, Eddmina couldn't help it as she instantly dropped her facade and fled to him. The Hound's recollection of Joffrey's threats spun around her mind, and so she not only leant down to embrace her husband, but she swept Uther off of his father's lap, pressing a thousand kisses to the top of his head, feeling her heart ache as he laughed, as if nothing was wrong with the world, as if there was no threat to his life at all. He wriggled in her grip, wanting to be put down, and she remembered how a few months before Garlan had been sure that Uther would start walking soon. The idea still sickened her, knowing that the moment he grew up he would be far harder to protect. She wanted him to grow, but she also wanted him to never be exposed to how awful their world was.

"Mina," Willas called gently, tugging her from her thoughts. She felt his hand on her waist, reaching up from his seat to attempt to reassure her.

"What has been said?" Lady Stark's voice was a little harsher, though she at least tore herself from Sansa to stand by her, placing her hand on her shoulder while her other hand stroked Uther's curls.

Eddmina glanced down at her son for a moment before she pressed another kiss to his head, feeling the familiar tightness in her chest but deciding to ignore it. When she felt strong enough, she did not look at either her mother or her husband, but at her sister. Sansa met her gaze and swallowed nervously, though the girl did not get up, not as Honour sat up and nudged her head into her side.

"Do you want to say goodbye to him?" she asked her, and though Sansa hesitated, she eventually nodded.

"Of course not," Lady Stark protested, a look of horror coming over her. "It would not be safe, it wouldn't be proper-"

"I asked Sansa, not you," Eddmina told her firmly, hoping she didn't sound as unkind as she felt.

"Eddmina," Lady Stark snapped protectively, her grip on Eddmina's shoulder tightening. The two locked eyes in a silent argument, and Lady Stark was the one who backed down first as she dropped her hold on her eldest to go and stand with Sansa instead. She knelt by her side, reaching for her hands. "Please, Sansa, you owe that man nothing. You do not have to go and talk to him."

Sansa paused, looking between her mother and her sister, as if unsure of which one to turn to. She took a shaky breath, then got to her feet, Honour standing with her. She looked down at her hands as she knotted her fingers together, looking the picture of grace as she left her mother to go to Eddmina. Only when she was stood next to her did she look up and offer her older sister a faint, forced smile. Lady Stark looked as if she wanted to break down into tears.

"I want to go and say goodbye," Sansa said firmly. She did not look down, nor did she fidget; Eddmina couldn't help the surge of pride in her.

Eddmina passed Uther back to Willas, before she took her sister's arm and led her out to the courtyard to say her goodbyes to her unlikely hero.

***

The letter from Ser Garlan Tyrell arrived a week after Sandor Clegane rode off. It arrived in the early hours of the morning, so early that even the birds had not begun to sing, and was delivered to Eddmina and Willas' chamber by the Maester himself. Willas wasted no time in breaking the seal and reading it, his hands shaking ever so slightly as he held the parchment.

'Dark wings, dark words,' Eddmina thought, remembering how her father used to say that ravens that delivered at night only delivered bad news.

She was tired of bad news, and the feeling of dread was uncomfortably familiar.

"Would you like me to read it to you?" she offered, though she was a little tied up as Uther fidgeted in her lap, his hands tangled in her hair. He had hardly slept all night, which meant his parents had hardly slept too.

"You would struggle, love," Willas laughed as he sat back down on their bed, holding the letter closer to the candle on the bedside table to make the words a little clearer. "He's written it in code. When we were younger we came up with our own coded language. It was so when I was at the High Tower I could write to him and not worry about our parents or grandmother or the Maester knowing about what I was getting up to."

"And what we're you getting up to?" Eddmina asked with a raised eyebrow, watching as her husband smirked embarrassedly, his cheeks turning a little pink.

"Nothing scandalous, I promise, it was always Loras' coded letters that carried stories that were enough to make our parents faint, mine were nothing but reports of battles or uncles had dragged me into, and tales of pretty girls I was too shy to speak to but who liked me for my future title," Willas explained, and Eddmina's eyes only narrowed at the last part. "This was a long time ago, darling."

"So long that you cannot remember the code?" She asked, biting back a laugh when she saw how Willas sighed gratefully that she did not ask about the pretty girls.

He shook his head, and proceeded to spend the next few minutes working out exactly what his brother had written. It took him long enough that both Eddmina and Uther had dozed off to sleep, though she quickly jolted awake when she heard Willas' victorious gasp.

"'Dearest brother and sister, I will be seeing you shortly. Our journey will take at least a month, but I assure you all important parties are safe and well,'" Willas read aloud, and despite the smile he wore at the thought of his brother returning, he scoffed. "Damned fool, what is the point of using code for such a vague message?"

"Does he say anything else? About Robb?" Eddmina asked, unable to help herself as she felt her insides yearn to be reunited with her twin.

It didn't matter what had happened before he left, or what had been said, his absence felt like a searing pain when she thought of him. She always believed in a special bond between twins, she and Robb had always understood each other beyond a normal capacity, but her belief had been put to the test the moment he had been injured. She had felt a splitting pain in her side the moment she learnt of his arrow wound, and every so often she felt a twisting spasm as if she was suffering her own healing injury. She hadn't been able to consider the thought of him succumbing to his wound, but that was simply because life without Robb was unimaginable, but hearing he was well enough to return filled her with more relief than she had thought possible. It made her hungry for every last detail though, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like Robb's sister, not just the King's Hand.

"'We have left a wake of chaos behind us in the Westerlands and have heard word that our attacks have Tywin Lannister returning home to regroup his forces,'" Willas continued to read, glancing up from the letter to see his wife almost manage a smile. "'My best suggestion to you while you await our return would be to reach out to Loras and encourage him to remind father of his promises of support. His grace the King in the North would be grateful to hear of any alliances upon his return. Please tell the Princess not to worry herself as I know she will, but we are most certainly going to have to regroup and reconsider the way ahead upon our return. I do not want to go into specifics, not while writing in a code that was invented by a ten year old (no matter how clever you insist you are/were), but while we have known success on this campaign, there have been unexpected difficulties that will require restructure. I look forward to seeing the three of you soon. With love and loyalty, your gallant, favourite brother.'"

Willas set the letter aside and leant over to Eddmina, holding her face with both of his hands as he pulled her in for a kiss. His fingers ran over her cheeks as he rested his forehead against hers, and though she knew he was kissing her out of relief for his brother, there was a double meaning behind the gesture. He was trying to distract her, trying to keep her mind from lingering on the thought of all the work they still had ahead of them, and the fact that Garlan wrote of 'restructure'.

If Willas was brains, then Garlan was brawn, but that certainly didn't make him stupid. In fact, he was intensely intelligent, and Eddmina could see that in perfect practice in how he wrote the letter. He gave nothing away, not in case someone was able to break their code, but the way he wrote told her that there was still so much for him to tell them. Even with Willas' lips on hers, even as he smiled at their son and told him that his uncles were coming back, Eddmina felt dread settle in her. She wasn't as delicate as she had been, otherwise she knew such thoughts would have made her breathless and dizzy, whereas she instead felt the need to run to her study and look over her notes and her maps and try and get ahead of the game, try and get a head start on all the work that she would have to do. She tried to savour the moment, tried to feel glad at the news of her brothers' return, but she knew even Willas was pretending a little of his joy. He too knew all the hard work that was coming their way. He was pretending for her sake though, and so she pretended for him.

She kissed him back, she stroked his curls, she wrapped her arms around him as the two of them embraced their son. She tried to make out as if it was a happy moment, a moment of joy for their little family. If Uther was to grow up and have any recollection of that moment, she wanted for him to remember it as a good one, one where both of his parents were happy and his family - or, what remained of it - were victorious and well. She refused for him to have yet another moment of his young life tainted by war. His Uncles were alive, they were returning back to their makeshift home, all the rest could wait, for Uther's sake at least. If Willas was pretending joy for Eddmina, then she would pretend it for Uther. Perhaps they would manage like that.

"Let us take him riding today," Willas suggested, though Eddmina knew why; if he planned their day with outdoors activities, then she would be unable to lock herself away in her study. "Invite Sansa along. She has hardly left the keep since she arrived."

Eddmina wanted to be annoyed, she wanted to feel as though he was using her sister to get her to set aside work, but she knew he had a point. Sansa had hardly left the walls of Riverrun in a week, except for when she waved goodbye to the Hound, then spent the rest of her night in her chamber apologising to Eddmina and their mother for being so tearful. 

If it was down to Lady Stark, Sansa would never leave her side, which made Eddmina suspect that Sansa's lack of venturing outdoors was not her own fears, but their mother's desire to keep her close and safe. Lady Stark had only just returned to her own bedchamber after spending her nights in Sansa's bed, and that was only because Lord Tully's health had taken another turn for the worst and his rooms were closer to her original chamber. Lady Stark's fierce need to always be with Sansa was understandable, but certainly made the alias of Sansa being Willas' cousin less believable. Eddmina was sure many had figured out that the red-headed girl was not Alyce Hightower as Willas had told them all, but instead the missing middle Stark girl that the Lannisters had let slip from their grasp.

Eddmina had understood her mother's protectiveness at first, but after a week she had grown tired of it. Sansa had not protested, clearly just relieved to be with family rather than enemies, but Eddmina had noticed how Lady Stark refused to let anyone try to talk to Sansa about King's Landing, and she became annoyed if anyone looked at her for too long, as if the girl was hers alone. Her obsessive vigilance over her middle daughter was justifiable at first, but Eddmina knew that if she was Sansa, then she would have started to feel rather suffocated.

It was as if Lady Stark saw her only as her little girl who needed to be looked after and guarded. Eddmina couldn't help but see that while Sansa was not a fearless warrior who didn't need protection, she was clearly far stronger than any of them gave her credit for. She had survived thus far, after all. Sansa had suffered, but she had endured, and she had survived. After all that she had been through, she deserved a little acclaim, and a little happiness too.

"We will take Sansa riding, then," Eddmina agreed, then the memories of a thousand family rides flooded her mind, and she found it difficult not to smile, even if it was stingingly bittersweet. "You should ask her for a race. She very rarely took part back when we were at home, but the few times she did she would leave the rest of us behind in the dust. It always infuriated Robb, he pretended it didn't to be lordly, and she pretended not to be pleased to be ladylike, but the two of them were always silently competitive."

"Margaery would often win when we would race too, but that is because she would trick us and cheat," Willas laughed, stroking Eddmina's arm softly as they sat in their embrace.

"Sore loser?" Eddmina joked dryly, one of her eyebrows arching. Willas clapped his hand to his chest in mock-horror.

"Not me, if you want a sore loser look to Loras," he rolled his eyes with a smirk. "I can't be a sore loser. I lost that infrequently I rarely knew what it felt like."

"I think you and Loras are more similar than either of you care to admit," Eddmina said, knowing it was probably a statement that was better remaining inside of her head, but she loved Willas, and she trusted him, and there was nothing she would not say to him. "You are both talented men in your areas of expertise, you are both fiercely loyal, you both are stubbornly caring for your loved ones. You are both also incredibly handsome."

"Are you calling my little brother handsome?" he asked with a slight laugh.

When he pulled away from her to look at her properly, she saw his dry smirk, his gaze teasing, though she also saw under the surface his slight inferiority complex rear its head, and all the years of believing he wasn't as good as his brothers. It was easy enough to think that, his brothers were both rather impressive, both good looking and both incredibly proficient knights. If Eddmina was a different woman, she would probably find them both wonderful, and if she had grown up believing stories of brave heroes and damsels, she might have fawned over them and begged for their attention. She had seen plenty of girls do that for her husband's brothers, yet she was not that sort of girl, nor was she a different woman. She was the wife of Willas Tyrell, and was more than content with that. In fact, she felt blessed by it, she felt loved and acknowledged, and as wonderful as she did find Garlan and Loras, she did not covet them, nor did she wish for their  hands in marriage. It was Willas that she had, and it was Willas that she wanted.

Still though, she knew what it felt like to think of oneself as inferior to one's siblings. It hadn't just been Robb she had constantly compared herself to, but Sansa too. The much-wanted golden child son, the heir, the red-headed boy, and the well-timed daughter, the perfect, beautiful, careful and courteous girl. It didn't matter that she was older, Eddmina had always felt lesser than the two of them. Robb was the boy her mother needed, and Sansa was the daughter her mother wanted. Perhaps that was why grief for the other siblings had hit so harsh, because deep down Eddmina had felt guilty that of all the Starks to survive, it was her, her mother's least favourite. Perhaps the grief had been one last act of the young girl inside of her, the one who felt like a constant disappointment. Such sentiments didn't reflect who she was currently, because Eddmina had learnt that not only did her mother not dislike her and actually did love her, she could not be Robb, or Sansa, or any of the others. She could only be herself, and that was enough. She had moments of self-hatred, moments of comparison, but she had survived so far, and that had to mean something.

"You are the greatest of men," Eddmina told him sincerely, though when she saw his frown as he realised how honest she was being, she couldn't fight her smile. "The greatest of husbands, the greatest of fathers. I love you."

"I cannot receive such compliments of greatness when they come from you," he held her face in his hands again, looking at her the way he always did, the way that had yet to not stir up butterflies. "You, who even in the middle of a war manages to make me the happiest man who has ever graced Westeros. The best of wives, best of women."

"Will you still call me that when I best you at our horse race later?" she asked teasingly, hoping to distract from how much she still struggled to take compliments and flattery.

"I will always call you that," he grinned, pecking a quick kiss to her forehead before he turned his attention to Uther, who sat between the two of them. He scooped him up, adjusting him so he was sat on his lap, and the small boy beamed up at his father adoringly. "What do you think, my lad? Who's the better rider, me or your mother, or will you grow up to be better than both of us? Are you going to be the best horseman in the Reach?"

"What would you do if he doesn't care about horses?" Eddmina asked, a sudden curiosity taking hold of her, frowning as she looked at her boys. "What if he doesn't take an interest in your hobbies?"

"Then I'll take an interest in his," Willas shrugged, as if it was the easiest answer in the world. "As long as he's clever and kind, then I do not care how he passes the time. We will surely have more children, surely at least one of them will inherit one of our interests."

Eddmina liked his idea of a large family, yet she couldn't help but remember how she had felt in the godswood on the morning of Uther's nameday. She had dreamt of having more children, she had seen them and vague figures of who they would be in a vision at the very start of the war, yet in the godswood she had resigned her son to being an only child. It felt easier that way, it saved her longing for a family that the war had made impossible, it protected her from worrying about babes who hadn't yet been born. It made looking after Uther feel easier, making him her sole priority. It made him feel more precious, knowing he was her only one. Even so, it occasionally stung to think of more children, especially when she realised Willas hadn't let go of the idea.

"Will, do you not think..." Eddmina began, struggling to meet his eye until she took a deep breath to steady her courage. "Would you hate it if we had no more children? Now is not the time for them, and we do not know what the future holds."

"We don't, love, you are right," Willas nodded, looking at her earnestly, sensing how much the topic was eating away at her. He moved so he could take hold of her hand, leaving his other on Uther's back. "I did not want more, for a while. I was happy enough adjusting as a father to just one, then with the war I couldn't bare thinking of watching you go through everything while also being pregnant. I was happy to wait until we were at home safe, but the war has been longer than I thought. I've been trying not to think about it, but it has become one of the ways I have coped with this war, thinking of what our future would look like, trying to think of things to look forward to once we have peace. I thought about how we would have more boys who look like you, and... I realised I would love a daughter, Mina."

"Me too," she said, with very little thought. She had not once considered the idea, but the moment he said it, she knew it to be true.

"I would like a little girl, but I like the family I have already," he continued, squeezing her hand three times. "You and Uther matter, keeping you safe and ensuring we get home at the end of the war is what I care about. The rest can wait. If that means we wait years before having more, then that is fine. If it means we have no more, then I am fine with that, too. I truly do not mind. Loving the two of you is enough."

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to wrap him up in her arms, him and Uther both, and hold them close. She wanted to stay with him forever, with him holding her hand and their son, because it was only with the two of them that she managed to forget all about everything that was wrong with the world. She wanted to sit next to him for as long as it took for her to figure out how to explain to him just how much she adored him, how much she needed him, and how grateful she was for him.

She didn't get the chance for any of that, as a knock at their door interrupted their moment. A quick glance to the window told them both that it was almost sunrise, and so not an entirely unreasonable time to be disturbed but still out of the ordinary. That was what made Eddmina decide not to ignore it but instead get out of bed, wrapping a thick night robe around herself, and simply because she was wary since the Hound's visit to Riverrun, slipped Oberyn's knife into her pocket.

There was no need for such suspicions, as when she opened the door it was one of her handmaidens stood there. She looked tired, but curtsied anyway, looking at Eddmina wide-eyed and alarmed. The handmaidens' fear of her had disappeared a long time ago, and so it's sudden resurgence made Eddmina frown, knowing something was wrong.

"Princess, I am so sorry to disturb you," she spoke quickly, her voice as shaky as her hands.

"It is quite alright, I promise," Eddmina told her with a smile she hoped was reassuring. "What do you need?"

"It's the Lady Alyce," the handmaiden explained, and it took a moment for Eddmina to realise exactly who she was talking about; Sansa. "She... I think you should see her."

Eddmina nodded, before glancing back to Willas. He gestured for her to go, and only then did she let her handmaiden lead her out of the room and across the hall to Sansa's bedchamber. The door was already open, and the other handmaiden was stood hesitantly in the doorway, looking as if she was desperate for help. The reason became clear the moment Eddmina stepped inside and saw her sister, kneeling on her bed and hunched over, hysterically crying, looking as though she was trying to tear into her bedsheets.

The instinct to run to her almost overtook Eddmina, until she remembered herself, and forced herself to be calm and rational. That was obviously what her sister needed, and what her sister didn't need was an audience. She turned around to the handmaidens, and took both of their hands.

"Thank you for summoning me," she smiled, feigning confidence.

"Shall we fetch Lady Stark too, Princess?" One of them asked, telling Eddmina that neither of them truly believed Sansa to be from Old Town.

"No, I can handle it," Eddmina spoke, her voice firm yet kind. "I can see to her from here. If I need either of you I will call."

They were hesitant, but they left anyway, and Eddmina shut the door behind them before she hurried to Sansa, who did not even notice her presence, not as she was breathlessly crying, still desperately ripping into the sheets of her bed. Eddmina climbed onto the mattress and knelt next to her, placing her hands gently on Sansa's shoulders. She could feel her sister trembling, and see just how badly her hands were shaking, and it was only when she touched her that she jolted, letting out a small scream. Her eyes were wide in terror until they saw it was her, yet the fear never left her expression.

It looked as though she had gone half-mad, and Eddmina could only assume it had been a nightmare. She had suffered enough herself to know what the bad ones could do to one's mind.

'Curse Joffrey Baratheon to the Others,' Eddmina thought with burning hatred. 'Curse Cersei Lannister too, and all the Kings Guards, and every other person in that cesspit of a city.'

"You're alright," Eddmina tried to shush her sister's cries comfortingly, speaking softly and holding her gently, yet she did not know what the issue was, nor did she think Sansa was listening. "Sansa, you're safe. You're safe, I promise. I'm right here, no one is going to hurt you. You're in Riverrun, surrounded by people who love you, people who would do anything to protect you."

Sansa barely heard her, still consumed with trying to tear her sheets.

"Sansa, look at me," Eddmina called, her voice firmer this time. Sansa looked at her then, but not without flinching. "It was a bad dream, I promise. I have them too. They're terrifying, but they are not real. Whatever it was, it wasn't real. You are safe."

"I'm not," Sansa cried, letting go of the sheets to grasp her sister's hands, and Eddmina took the opportunity to look down at them. "If anyone sees, if someone tells the Queen..."

One look at Sansa's bedsheets and Eddmina instantly understood. Her head spun dizzily for a moment, her stomach lurching in dismay. Memories hit her like bricks, and she remembered just how scared she had been, how she had thought she was dying, how it symbolised the ending of her life as she knew it. She had been scared because so much had rested upon it, yet it was nothing compared to the pressures Sansa had been put under.

Upon seeing the bloodstained sheets, Eddmina understood, and another wave of hatred coursed through her. Had the Lannisters really scared her so much that her flowering would have Sansa such a wreck?  Suddenly Eddmina knew that being an elder sister had never mattered as much as it did in that moment, and though she instantly wanted to call for their mother, she knew Lady Stark may make it worse. Their mother had wept and spent the night in her bed when Eddmina flowered, and given how protective she had been of Sansa since her return, Eddmina knew it would only worsen if she knew the situation. No, she would have to deal with it. It was her duty, it was her honour.

"Sansa, it's alright," Eddmina reassured, keeping hold of the younger girl's hands with one of hers while the other moved to cup her cheek, wiping her tears away with her thumb. "Do you know what's happened?"

"I've bled, I can have the King's children, I can marry Joffrey," Sansa continued to weep. Eddmina couldn't help how her jaw clenched at the mention of Joffrey, though she quickly battled to calm her face.

"Over my dead body will you marry that monster," Eddmina cursed before she could stop herself. She felt Sansa flinch again. "They will never touch you again. They will never hurt you again."

"Joffrey killed father, and men killed our little brothers, what's to stop them killing you too?" Sansa asked, making Eddmina swallow nervously, her mind racing as she attempted to think of the right thing to say.

"What's stopping them is an army of northerners and riverlanders," Eddmina stroked her sister's cheek. "I will spend the rest of my life making sure you are safe. I am sorry I was not able to before, I will never stop regretting it, but I will try and make it right."

"What happens if one of the servants sees this?" Sansa asked, her tears stopping as she gestured to the blood stains. "Will they send word to the Queen? Will they try and take me back?"

"No, no one here sees Cersei as Queen," Eddmina promised. "The only monarch these people know of is Robb, and he is like me. He would die to protect you."

Sansa's face crumpled again, yet this time out of overwhelming relief. Her eyes cleared of the blind madness she had worn before as if she was finally thinking clearly, finally free of whatever horror and nightmare had hold of her, and she fell into her sister's chest. Eddmina embraced her tightly, pushing a kiss to the top of her head. While Sansa's face was buried in her, Eddmina took the opportunity to force away her own tears, feeling her own emotions bubbling up. Not just the hatred for the Lannisters, but the pity she felt for Sansa for being made to feel so scared of her own body and the fate those people had convinced her she belonged to, and the guilt that she had done nothing to stop it happening.

Eddmina had almost forgotten what it felt like to be a sister. Robb didn't need her in that way, he needed her as an advisor, and while their trust in each other relied on their sibling bond he didn't need her to look after him. It had been almost a year since she had seen Bran and Rickon, and even longer since she had seen Jon and Arya. The last thing she had done for Rickon was read him a bedtime story and promise she would be home soon and would bring their parents back with her. The last thing she had done for Bran was tell him to be brave. All she had done her whole life was try to look after them all, try to be the elder sister they all needed. It had been the hardest part of moving to Highgarden, leaving them all behind, and it had been the hardest part of the war, knowing she was so far from them all, knowing she was losing them all.

In losing them, she had lost that part of herself. She had channelled it into looking after Uther, but the love she had for her son was different to the love she had for her brothers and sisters. She had resigned herself to being the only one left, and in doing so fell out of practice of being a sister. As she held Sansa close and stroked her back as she cried, Eddmina felt that part of herself reawaken.

The two of them remained like that for a while, until Sansa's tears stopped. That was when Eddmina called her handmaidens back, and the two of them said nothing as they stripped the ruined bedsheets and brought a bath of steaming water. Sansa wasn't particularly wary around them, but Eddmina sent them away again as soon as she was in the water, deciding to attend to her sister herself, anything to make her feel more comfortable, and it was only when Eddmina was sat next to the bathtub, watching as her sister stretched in the hot water with her eyes closed that she realised they had not even spoken about what was happening.

"Sansa, did mother ever talk to you about all of this?" Eddmina asked, reaching over and taking her sister's hand, unable to help the joy that struck her momentarily as she considered just how lucky she was to have her back, how lucky she was to be able to hold her hand.

"A little," Sansa shrugged, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Not a great deal, but when it happened to you she told me about it. She had been crying, though."

"I thought I was dying," Eddmina remembered with a slight laugh. Her next question was harder, and so she hesitated, trying to find the right words before she decided to just come out with it. "And the Queen... Did Cersei Lannister talk to you about this?"

Sansa grimaced, though to her credit did not cry. She stared up at the ceiling as she thought, and Eddmina wondered if she was struggling with the memories, or if she was just trying to work out the best way to talk about her experience without upsetting her. Perhaps that was their problem, the two of them hedging around the topic in desperation to protect the other.

"Before my last nameday she asked me to lunch, and she asked if I had bled yet," Sansa said eventually, her voice sounding almost bitter, before she swallowed back her emotions and sounded almost stoic. "She asked at the feast in Winterfell too, can you remember?"

"I remember," Eddmina nodded, recalling how angry she had been, then recalling how Cersei had asked if she was pregnant. "She was very interested in both of our wombs if I remember rightly."

"I thought she was being nice, I thought she cared, when really she just thought me an idiot," Sansa muttered bitterly, sinking deeper in the bath water as if to hide. She let out a small sigh, full of wistful pity. "She wasn't as subtle the second time. She told me what happens, told me all about the pain. She said about how messy it all would be, how bloody and awful it all is, and how it is the beginning of my use for the King. She said he would most likely be cruel as most men are, and if I was smart I would learn how to use it to control him, but men like Joffrey are not easily controlled, and he would only bring me more pain. She told me that there was little to look forward to in womanhood that isn't painful, except children. She said it didn't matter how badly Joffrey treated me, I would still manage to love our children, because it isn't something we can help. She said..."

Sansa trailed off, and pulled a frown, as if she was in pain. Over the few days she had been in Riverrun, Eddmina had begun to recognise that expression. It was the one she pulled whenever she was telling them something about King's Landing, when she was detailing her experiences with the Lannisters. It was a specific expression she only pulled when she was about to confess to saying something awful about the Starks, and no matter how many times they all reassured her that she did what she needed to survive, Sansa still appeared guilty. Eddmina squeezed her hand, and offered her a smile, encouraging her to carry on.

"Cersei said that even a cold-hearted woman like my traitor sister would manage to love the child given to her by her ugly, cripple husband," Sansa spoke quietly, not looking Eddmina in the eye. "She said most women used their husbands to get what they want and you were no different. You were warming his bed to get our brother an army, but she laughed and said you clearly weren't taught very well and didn't know what you were doing. She said you would probably die in childbirth before you managed to convince the Tyrells to join the rebellion."

'I'm going to kill her,' Eddmina thought in a wave of rage, clenching her jaw so tight her teeth ached. 'For standing by and watching my father die, for scaring my sister, for insulting my husband. I'll kill Cersei Lannister.'

Eddmina tried not to let her anger show, though Sansa was clearly ashamed of what she had said. That made things a little easier, knowing she had to busy herself with damage control. She reached across and stroked Sansa's hair, letting out a small, sad laugh.

"I didn't say anything to her, I didn't agree, I just... Edda, I'm sorry," Sansa spoke hurriedly.

"You have nothing to apologise for," Eddmina shook her head. "I don't care what she thinks about me. I know if she could choose between my marriage or the one she suffered to Robert Baratheon, she envies me, while I pity her. How sad of a life has she lived if she has to scare a young girl into fearing her own body? How unloved must she feel if she sees her own sexuality as a means of manipulation and a source of pain? I think you would be best forgetting everything she told you, because I can assure you, it isn't the whole truth."

"It does hurt though, and it is messy, and it does mean I can... I can have children, and do the things that lead to children," Sansa reminded her, looking a little uncomfortable, and even Eddmina felt her face burn as she realised she was about to talk about intimacy with her little sister. Still, the way she explained it made Eddmina want to laugh at how sweet she sounded, and she would have laughed, had she not been desperately figuring out what to say for the best. "She cannot have been wrong about everything."

"It hurts, and it is a bloody mess, and flowering can make you miserable, but..." Eddmina trailed off, cringing a little until she decided to just be blunt. "I fell pregnant after barely a year of marriage, that sort of thing does not happen unless one has a relentless heir-chasing husband, or if one finds some sort of enjoyment in being with one's husband. I can assure you, my situation is definitely the latter."

"It's not... uncomfortable?" Sansa frowned. Eddmina shook her head, and a look of calm disbelief settled on Sansa's face. "Cersei always made out that the marriage bed was an ordeal that had to be endured. She told me Joffrey would most likely make it an ordeal."

Eddmina grimaced, squeezing her sister's hand tightly. She remembered the early days of living in Highgarden, feeling as though she did not deserve such grandeur, constantly thinking that life in the Reach was better suited to Sansa. Beautiful Sansa who wanted nothing more than a beautiful life, she was the one who deserved Highgarden, and the Tyrells, and a man like Willas. How cruel it was that their father would give her away to someone as good and just as Willas Tyrell, while he signed Sansa away to someone like Joffrey Baratheon. The thought made her memories of feeling like an imposter in the Reach more bitter than ever before, and Eddmina wanted nothing more than to turn the clock back and trade places with her sister, anything to prevent her getting hurt.

When she managed to look at her sister once more, she realised Sansa was looking at her expectantly. It was the way she looked when they were children, when Eddmina was telling her a story and she wanted the ending. Eddmina would sometimes change bits from whatever the book said to make it more interesting, but Sansa's love of fairy-tales meant she wanted exactly what was said on the page. The situation was in reverse, though. Sansa had learnt fairy-tales were not real, and she wanted her sister to set the record straight.

It made her face flush hot once more as Eddmina considered the truth was not something she ever expected to discuss with her sister. It was not something they were ever taught as young ladies to think of as acceptable. Perhaps if it was, perhaps if they had been taught differently, their lives would have taken different paths. Eddmina remembered how scared she had been to get married, how she had thought her husband would be a man to fear. She remembered hiding behind duty, and feeling as if she had to climb over all of the walls she had built to protect herself. She could scarcely remember how different things had turned out to what she had expected, and she knew because of that, she had to be honest. Sansa had been through enough, the least she was owed was honesty.

"I am not married to Joffrey and so cannot speak on that, I can only tell you my experience," Eddmina sighed, stroking her thumb over her sister's knuckles. "I know I am lucky. I know most women do not get to marry men as caring or attentive as Willas is to me. I like it. I like him. I like how he makes me feel, how he knows how to make me feel. He's a good man who has been nothing but good to me. He has never touched me without asking, and our wedding night, and every night after that was nothing but good. It was a little strange at first, but we talked and made sure it was always what we both wanted, he was always gentle, and he has told me that he loves me at least a thousand times. Do not think we are perfect, we have still argued and butted heads, but he has never once raised a hand to me, or said a cruel word."

"You really love him?" Sansa asked, and Eddmina's insides twisted in guilt as she watched her wipe away a silent tear. "I used to be jealous. I once thought it was unfair that you got to live down in the south and I thought you were stupid for crying when you left home. I wanted a handsome knight in a rich castle, I wanted to be as happy as you were. I thought Joffrey would make me happy."

"I told him I would make him regret it if he ever made you unhappy," Eddmina told her, hoping to save Sansa from the dark memories that threatened to creep in. "It took me a long time to realise that Willas was the sort of man I deserve, but a man like him is what you deserve too, not a cruel beast. You deserve someone who treats you as their equal."

"What if... What if I don't want to get married anymore?" Sansa asked hesitantly, looking as if it had taken her a great deal of courage to ask.

"Then you don't have to," Eddmina told her simply, shrugging as she wished someone had told her the same, wishing that her own marriage had felt like a choice rather than duty. "Whatever you wish to do with your life is your choice, and I will see to it that you're given all the freedom and respect you deserve. You are a King's sister, after all."

"Will mother approve of that?" Sansa's eyebrows narrowed together. Eddmina flashed her a one-sided smirk that answered her question without words; no, of course not, but Eddmina would still see to it. "She's hardly left me alone since I've gotten here. I thought she would be glad to see me but... she cries a lot lately, doesn't she? She tries not to let me notice, but-"

"She has been through a great deal, we all have," Eddmina smiled sadly. "Now you're back with us we can start to rebuild, and Robb will be home soon too. We can be a family again. Robb will probably want to speak to you about Joffrey and anything about the war you might have heard, but you don't have to say anything you aren't ready to."

"Joffrey once told me he'd give me Robb's head, and yours," Sansa grimaced, before a hardened look crossed her face. Eddmina recognised it, having seen it in her mirror on her own face hundreds of times. "I told him that you would give me his instead. I want to help. Anything I can do, I will, and... Will you please not tell mother because I don't think she will approve, but, I want you to teach me how to shoot? Singing and sewing didn't save me from the King's Guards but an arrow might have." 

Eddmina tried to bite back a laugh, knowing it was an awful reaction, but she couldn't help it, not as her entire childhood flashed before her eyes. It was always Sansa, perfect, beautiful Sansa, following every rule and convention that society threw at them, and it was that which made her their mother's favourite. Eddmina had been more rebellious, and it had been met with a maternal disdain that had only recently disappeared. She had shot arrows and perfected her skill, earning her father's pride and her mother's disappointment. 

Sansa had often followed their mother's guidance, it had been what led her to rolling her eyes at Arya's rebellion, and what made her distant with Jon. It had been what made her so often baffled at Eddmina and her life choices. Part of Eddmina had expected their mother's influence to still be there, to still loom over Sansa and her desire to be the perfect lady. One look at Sansa's serious expression told her that was not the case. The capital had changed her, and though Eddmina burnt with hatred for what her sister had been through, part of her adored her sister's strength and desire to carry on, to grow, to become stronger. Not many girls could go through what she did and survive, let alone want to grow past it and use it to her advantage. 

"Of course I'll teach you, but in return you need to do something for me," Eddmina agreed, and when Sansa nodded eagerly, she cracked another smile. "While I was shooting arrows and singing songs only soldiers are meant to know, you were becoming the perfect lady. Now I'm expected to one day be the Lady of Highgarden and I think my skills need perfecting."

That was how they came to the truce that if Eddmina spent her mornings training Sansa in archery, Sansa would spend her evenings giving Eddmina dancing lessons. That was how both of them learnt how to smile properly again. 

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Word count: 10281

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