It had been at least three weeks, and Eddmina was certain Winterfell had never been quieter.

She was sure she'd rather be in Highgarden, a place that still felt new and unknown to her, rather than be in Winterfell while it seemed to echo in silence. She missed hearing Arya's footsteps as she ran from their septa, she missed Sansa's quiet voice calling down the corridors as she hummed pretty songs, she missed listening to Jon training with the other boys in the yard, she missed the sound of Bran's laughter as he climbed to escape their mother. Their absence was a painful, cutting silence, and it seemed to carry a sense of dread that Eddmina hated; the dread that it would be a long, long time before she heard those sounds in that castle again.

Every so often if she was in the courtyard, or the Godswood, or a specific corner of the library, she would expect to see her father, and his absence was also jarring. She'd missed him a great deal when she was down south, but it felt worse knowing he was the one gone from Winterfell. It felt wrong, for him to be so far away from his home. He was always the one who said it was bad luck for Starks to leave the North, yet he was the one who had followed honour over superstition, and now she was left feeling his absence deeply, like he was a ghost who's influence haunted all over the keep. Every day as she went about her business, working on the duties of Winterfell's running, she was constantly thinking about her father and what he would think, every action she made met with the consideration of whether he would approve of what she was doing. She wished her mother would be of more use helping her understand if she was doing the right things, but of course Lady Stark was yet to leave Bran's bedside.

Eddmina couldn't really blame her. Though Maester Lewin had practically guaranteed his survival, reassuring the Starks that he would wake soon, every night Eddmina struggled to sleep as her mind raced with the dreaded possibilities that came with Bran's injuries. Perhaps Willas telling her of his turbulent recovery hadn't helped as it gave her never ending worries regarding how badly things could still go for her little brother. Eddmina knew that he wouldn't walk again, and so even if he did wake he wouldn't be the same little boy he had been. He'd never be a knight, nor would he ever climb again, or hold a sword or ride a proper horse, and so the thought of his mental recovery as well as his physical made her worry endlessly. She wondered if her mother had considered all of that, or if she was too concerned with the prospect of Bran simply surviving, and if Robb thought the same, he was yet to tell Eddmina, the two of them still yet to speak.

With Robb's avoidance of her - and so, Theon's too - the only real company Eddmina had was Rickon, who spent most of the time following her around like a shadow, and Leonette, who acted as a constant reminder for how much Eddmina missed Willas. At least Leonette was the only one who attempted to make things seem normal, as everyone else accidentally reminded her of how uncharted the situation was. They spent as much time together as possible, and though both of them were bonded together over how much they missed the Tyrell men, she was the only one to bring a smile to her face. To avoid feeling Willas' absence Eddmina moved up to her old childhood bedroom while he was away, and Leonette joined her in the Stark famiy tower, taking one of the spare rooms nearby. Leonette provided a nice distraction from everything else happening around them, and was perhaps the only person to regularly remind Eddmina to take it easy and look after herself.

The days passed quickly and while Eddmina took over any sort of jobs that were usually her mother's, it was getting harder to ignore the fact that she was actually pregnant, especially when her bump began to grow more pronounced. She wasn't as sick as she had been, much to her relief, yet the other symptoms that came with it were just as hard. She was exhausted all of the time, but didn't feel like she had the right to complain, not when everyone else was rightfully concerned over her brother's health. She didn't want the attention, so she kept any sort of upset or concern entirely to herself. She wanted any sort of struggle to go unnoticed, keeping with the northern tradition of stoniness, but she wasn't nearly as successful as she intended.

"Have you thought, perhaps, that you might be taking on a little too much?" Leonette said the moment Eddmina walked into her chambers, her sister lounging on the bed taking her completely by surprise. "I haven't seen you all day,"

"I was with my mother and Bran all morning, then I had to go find Rickon, he'd ran off again to hide from his lessons, and then Farlen wanted help in the kennels since there's a new litter of pups, and then I had to go help out in the stables since Hullen went south, and then Cayn wanted me to go through the guardsmen's shift rota as most of them left to go south too so they're having to train up some of the younger lads and then-" Eddmina explained, pacing her room as she took off her fur cloak and hung it up neatly on the dresser, only cutting herself off when Leonette yawned dramatically. She stopped moving and stood still, folding her arms and raising a single eyebrow. "Oh I do apologise, was I boring you?"

"No, you were simply exhausting me," Leonette explained, sitting up properly as she reached out and took hold of Eddmina's hands. "And I know for a fact you're exhausted too, you're getting shadows under your eyes. You're taking on far too much, let someone else do all of that!"

"Leo, too many people went south for me to just sit and do nothing, and besides, who else is there?" Eddmina explained with a sigh, moving to sit on the bed next to her. Leonette gave her a knowing look. "Don't even think about saying Robb. He might not be talking to me but he's doing more than his fair share of duties,"

"Actually I was going to say your mother," Leonette shrugged, though she instantly looked guilty. "Not to seem completely ignorant to the situation. I can't imagine what she's going through with your brother, but it's been over a month and she's not left his room once. She knows the situation with the keep being under-staffed, she knows you're with child, and yet she lets you dash around as if everything is fine. I'm sorry, but I just think that's selfish,"

Eddmina rolled her eyes, because she would be a liar if she disagreed with anything that Leonette had said. Of course the thought had crossed her mind several times, but it was built into her to feel as if she was responsible for everything lest she turn into a disappointment. The situation just felt like an extension of that, and though the thought of her mother's lack of input into Winterfell's running irritated her, she daren't say anything or even dwell on it. It wouldn't be the first time Eddmina was upset or frustrated with her mother, of course, so it wasn't really worth the energy.

"You're not the only one to think that," a voice called from the doorway, and Eddmina cursed herself for not shutting the door behind herself when she entered only moments before as she glanced up and saw Robb. "Can I speak to you?"

He was looking directly at her, though his gaze flicked to Leonette for barely a second. Eddmina knew the inside of Robb's mind as well as she knew her own, and she knew he was thinking of a way to politely get rid of her so they could be alone. Out of stubbornness Eddmina wanted to glare at him and dismiss him from her presence immediately, all of her impulses were screaming at her to treat him with disregard the way he had treated her for the past month. Somehow she managed to control her emotions, her lips pulling into a thin smile as she turned to Leonette.

"Why don't you go get some supper?" she suggested, though the Tyrell was looking between the twins suspiciously.

"Have you eaten?" Leonette's eyes narrowed slightly, far too concerned for her wellbeing to truly worry about whatever spat the Starks were going through.

"If you'd have let me finish telling you about my day, you'd have found out Old Nan pulled me down into the kitchens and made me have about three bowls full of beef and pea stew," Eddmina told her with a small smile. "I'll come see you later on, alright?"

Leonette was still resistant, but eventually got up. She leant over and squeezed Eddmina's shoulder gently as a gesture of goodbye, and she crossed the room to the door. Before she left Eddmina noticed her wary look to Robb as if she was warning him against anything that would cause Eddmina any upset, but soon she was gone, leaving the twins alone for the first time in a long time.

Robb stood in the doorway awkwardly for a moment while Eddmina watched him, waiting for him to make the first move. Eventually he came in, shutting the door behind himself, clearly wanting privacy for the two of them. He still didn't speak though, instead hesitating by her desk as he glanced down at the various objects scattered across the work surface. A hair brush embossed with a golden rose, a book on hawks left lying open on a page Willas had marked as his favourite, the elegant little dagger Prince Oberyn had gifted to her as a wedding present lying on top of a book of Dornish poetry. Off to the side of it all though was what had caught Robb's attention, that being the letters. There were two neat piles, one pile of opened letters, while the other pile all remained sealed and in tact, since they were addressed to Willas. She had seen one with a green seal embossed with a rose and though she knew it was from Lord and Lady Tyrell she refused to open it, knowing that Willas should be the one to first read of his parents' reaction. On the opened pile, however, were letters from Dorne, and Eddmina noticed the slight crease that appeared between Robb's eyebrows as he recognised the red seal of Sunspear.

"Princess Arrianne wrote to congratulate me, she became a dear friend after the wedding," Eddmina spoke as she rose from her seat, crossing the room to take the letter into her hands, holding it up so she could re-read it. "'If it is a boy my uncle expects to be honoured by the name. He thinks Lord Oberyn Tyrell has a wonderful ring to it. I however hope you pick an old northern name that will befuddle the Reachers, perhaps it's time they all stopped naming their children after glorious knights of a golden age,'"

"And have you? Picked an old northern name?" Robb asked, his voice sounding a little strained, and when Eddmina set the letter down and looked at her brother she saw his eyes were focused on her stomach.

"Willas and I made a plan that we'd think of a different name each day that passed while we're apart," she explained with a shrug, biting back the urge to hit him for suddenly taking an interest, though a small part of her was also enjoying talking to him. "We decided I'd think of girl names while he thought of boys. I've been scouring history books for decent names, but majority of the ones I like are quite masculine,"

"What do you like?" he asked quietly, as if trying to make the conversation normal between them, but also curiosity had finally gotten the better of him and he couldn't resist.

"I'd like a little Ned Tyrell," she said, feeling as though she was confessing something highly confidential, especially as she felt her cheeks grow hot. "But I don't think it feels right. I like old historic names, but I don't know if Will feels the same. I suppose we'll see,"

"I hope my first nephew doesn't end up with some poncey, flower name," Robb attempted to joke, and somehow Eddmina felt a smirk turn up onto her lips.

"Then pray for a niece," she commented, placing the letter back onto the desk neatly. "Or hope that Willas has good sense,"

"He does," Robb said, looking at the floor before meeting her eye.

Barely a second passed since there eyes met before they fell into each others arms, wrapping themselves up tightly in an embrace. They were practically the same height, but Eddmina bent down slightly so she could rest her forehead onto his shoulder, mostly to hide the fact that she had begun crying. She wasn't really sure why she was tearful, only seconds ago she was irritated at him, and only hours previous she was bitter, but at some point she had quickly realised that some things just weren't worth dwelling on, especially when it came to Robb.

He had realised the same too. With his overpowering concerns for his sister, his wariness over the Tyrells, all combined with his dislike of the Lannisters and fears for his little brother's health, Robb had been faced with a tough few weeks trying to adjust to all of the overwhelming changes occurring around him. He wasn't even sure why he had reacted so badly to Eddmina's news, she was his sister and he adored her, but perhaps that adoration embodied itself as worry that her condition would bring her harm. It also scared him having to face up to how much their lives had changed, as it still caught him off-guard thinking of how she didn't live in the North anymore, and how he was no longer her main protector as her brother as there was a man who had wrapped her in his family cloak and become her husband. He liked Willas, and he knew how much Eddmina liked him too, yet Robb just couldn't forget the fact that his sister was no longer the young girl he'd grown up alongside, but was now a woman living out her own life.

His struggles didn't justify the way he had acted towards her though, and he knew that. He just hoped their tight embrace signified everything that was running through his mind. Somehow, thankfully, she understood everything he was feeling. They had always been like that, able to understand each other so easily, and Eddmina was certain it would be like that for the rest of their lives. Regardless of everything, they were still on each other's team, and still knew each other in a way no one else could.

"I'm-" Robb began to speak, but Eddmina cut him off as they parted from their hug so she could hit his arm.

"Don't say sorry," she rolled her eyes, going back to the bed to sit down and he joined her, the two of them sat side by side. "Just don't be a prick anymore,"

"I'm not a prick, Edd!" he exclaimed, fighting off laughter. "Okay, maybe I have been, but I want to make it up to you. You've been running around Winterfell all day, you know I should be the one doing all the jobs. By the time I get to places you've already completed the work and everyone's singing your praises,"

"Robb, if I don't keep busy I think I'll just lose myself," she confessed, her voice going a little quiet. "I don't want to have nothing to do, not while Winterfell is without father and all the others, it doesn't seem right,"

"This is still your home, you know that, and you know you're entitled to do as you like but shouldn't you be taking things a little easier?" he asked, a frown of concern growing across his brow.

"Maester Luwin said no riding, drinking or archery, he didn't say anything about running errands or having to chase Rickon around," she shrugged again as she spoke. "Besides, I promised mother that I would take over from her, I promised her I'd make sure all of her usual jobs are seen to,"

At the mention of their mother, Robb's expression changed. It suddenly ressembled the way Eddmina often looked when thinking about their mother, especially when those thoughts were of annoyance or frustration. Usually Robb often managed to see their mother's side of things - he was her favourite child, after all - but on that occasion he seemed truly irritated at her. Of course Eddmina knew exactly why, as the only times she had seen her mother over the past few weeks was whenever she would go and sit with her to keep Bran company. Robb called by sometimes in the afternoon, but whenever Eddmina was there, Lady Stark barely said a word. Sometimes she'd say 'good morning', but the fear for Bran had robbed her of the ability to function as usual.

Robb knew that, and he understood that if his mother was not functioning, it had fallen mostly to Eddmina to make up for it and carry the weight of her absence.

""I'm going to speak with her after dinner," he sighed, running his hand through his thick auburn curls.

"She'd probably be glad for your company, you know how badly I infuriate her, my daily visits are probably making her feel far worse," Eddmina commented with a slight smirk, especially as Robb gave her a serious look. "What, you know I'm not kidding? When have you ever known Mother and I to be in the same room without snipping at each other only to leave moments later sighing as if we just escaped capture from our worse foe?"

"That's funny," he frowned as he looked at her, as if he had come to some big realisation. "Living in the South has made you more dramatic,"

Eddmina hit his arm again, cracking a smile as her brother laughed at her statement that wasn't entirely a joke.

***
She was running, dirt between her paws. The air was cold but she was warm, her breath hot as she panted, desperate to catch up to her brothers. They weren't always faster, but that night the grey one was winning, and she hated to think he would catch supper before her. After all, she had smelt the hare first. Her mistress had given her hare the night before, but it had been cooked, and there was nothing she wanted more than to taste the hot blood the moment her fangs would pierce through the fur. That, and she wanted the satisfaction of beating her siblings to the kill.

She liked hunting, as if it was engrained into all of her instincts. This was what she knew to do. No one had taught her, other than her siblings who too just knew what to do. It was in all of them, and when they ran as a pack, she felt truly alive.

She missed the others though. Her sister barely left the keep, she had been shut out of the tower by the sad looking woman, yet she stayed by the window howling all day. It was if she was trying to wake her master. The smaller two sisters had both gone, off on adventure with their girls. She had seen her mistress cry a lot about that. The littlest brother had gone too, with the curly haired boy. Mistress had cried about them leaving too. She didn't understand why they all had to go either, they were a pack, what good was a pack if they were torn apart?

Her brothers would have to be her pack now, but it didn't seem the same. Three out of seven of them running, it wasn't the same.

Just as she started to gain on the brothers, the black one far more wild than the grey, she felt as though the wind had changed. The atmosphere still felt crisp, a sharp chill in the dusk breeze, but something wasn't the same. It wasn't as though all was peaceful before, a hunt was never peaceful, but something had definitely changed. It had felt uneasy when all the visitors were in the keep, especially the blonde ones, but this... this was new. Even deep in the woodlands, she could feel the edge of peril. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. She rarely knew fear - why would she, as a dire wolf - but she knew that the instinct swelling inside of her was the closest she had ever come to being afraid, and something deep within her knew she needed to go and investigate otherwise fear would overtake them all.

The brothers had sensed something too, they had stopped running. That was rare. When the shaggy one had his mind set on something he could rarely stop himself, always taking things a step too far, but even he had skidded to a halt, sniffing at the air.

Their hare disappeared off into the shrubbery, and though the grey one huffed disapointedly, she did not hesitate to mourn the loss of dinner. Instead she had already set off running, back to the castle, back to where her instincts were entirely screaming 'danger'.

Eddmina barely realised she had fallen asleep. The dream had been so vivid, after all, her mind racing with thoughts, though it was only as her eyelids fluttered open that she realised those thoughts were not like her own. It had felt so real, she would have sworn on her life she was really out in the wolf's wood, yet there she was, curled up on her bed, alone in the darkness.

She hadn't planned on falling asleep, but perhaps that showed just how tired she was. She wasn't even sure when she had fallen asleep really, though it couldn't have been long after Robb left her to go and eat. Still fully dressed and lying on top of the sheets, it hadn't been the most comfortable way to sleep, yet she was still that tired she didn't care. It was getting to the point where no sleeping position was comfortable so it didn't really make a difference, and with that in mind she decided to just roll over and curl up, making the most of her time alone to rest. Everyone kept telling her how badly she needed it after all.

Eddmina desperately wanted to go back to sleep. She was definitely tired enough to deserve sleep, but her mind was unable to shut off, her dream haunting over her. She'd had dreams like that before, dreams where she was a running wolf, yet those had always been a little blurred, lacking true focus. That dream had been real, as if she was really a wolf, but not just any wolf, Honour. It wasn't like she was reading her thoughts or watching her, she had practically become Honour. It was like they were one and the same, Honour's thoughts being her thoughts and vice versa. That was odd enough, but paired with the fact that Honour had been scared and had sensed danger, Eddmina felt a weird sense of foreboding surround her, as if all wasn't at peace.

She knew that was unreasonable to think. It was getting to nightfall, the guards were on shift and the most protected part of Winterfell at night was the tower housing the Stark family rooms. There was nowhere safer for her than Winterfell. Nowhere in all of Westeros was as safe as Winterfell. Repeating that thought in her mind over and over, she shut her eyes and willed away any sort of wariness. Even so, she tried to keep her breathing low to make as little noise as possible so she could listen out for any sort of disturbance, and out of instinct she protectively wrapped her arms around her growing stomach.

The gesture made her think of Willas. She'd barely been showing when they had parted, and as if out of nowhere it had become rather visible. She wondered how long it would be until she saw Willas, and how big their baby would be by then. She thought of the two of them, lying in bed together, his arms wrapped around her, his hands on her bump with her head rested on his chest. She'd thought of him everyday, but it was only then that she truly felt the weight of how much she missed him. It would probably feel so overwhelmingly wonderful to fall into his embrace. The image of him riding through Winterfell's gates with Garlan almost brought a smile to her face, especially when she imagined what it would feel like to run over to him to greet him, how it would feel to run her hands through his hair as he kissed her, how sweet his lips would feel after so long of being apart.

Sentimental fantasies of Willas somehow managed to dull her senses a little, helping her relax. She felt herself drifting off again, though no sooner did she fall into a light sleep she was snapped awake once more by noises down in the courtyard. It sounded like shouting, dogs barking, and bells, ringing out a signal she was sure she hadn't heard before. Something was happening, though as she thought to get up to go and help, the noise dulled away when she realised she could hear someone opening her bedroom door.

Surely it was Robb, come to retrieve her so they could go help together. Or Leonette, wanting company in the chaos. Or Rickon, wanting to hide and seek solace with her. Or even her mother,
arriving to safeguard her against whatever was going on. It could have been any of those, though the latter seemed the most unlikely, and as she was facing away from the door she couldn't know for certain, but the moment she heard the door creak again and it wasn't instantly followed by a friendly voice calling her name, she knew something was wrong. Her insides seemed to sink as though she had just fallen down a deep hole, her chest immediately tightening as her heartbeat quickened in pace.

For someone who always felt so in-tune with her instincts, Eddmina internally cursed herself for the panic she felt, especially when she realised she'd frozen. She had no idea what to do, resulting in her remaining exactly in place. Perhaps it was just a guard passing by, checking to see if she was safe, and though she wanted to see if she was right, she couldn't move, too stuck in her fear. She felt as though she could barely breath and that only got worse when she heard footsteps cross the room slowly and carefully. It was the sort of sound someone would make if they were trying their hardest to remain unheard, and Eddmina screwed her eyes shut, trying to fight against the overwhelming dread clouding her mind to figure out what in seven hells she could do.

"Sleeping, my lady?" a quiet yet scratching voice called out in a low whisper.

There was nothing about the tone that was friendly, a sense of mocking and leering oozing out to the point that she had to fight not to cringe. Whoever it was wasn't there with good intentions, but for the time being he thought she was sleeping. That at least bought her some time as she was facing away from him. She opened her eyes, knowing he couldn't see her face, desperately searching for anything she could use to defend herself. The thought of Oberyn's dagger resting on the desk made her feel sick. She'd only ever used it as a damned letter opener, and now the moment actually called for it's true use it was across the room. The only things resting on the bedside cabinet was a thin book of eastern songs Princess Arrianne had sent to her, and a clay flagon of water. Neither of them were particularly fearsome weapons, and she didn't even know what sort of weapon the intruder held. Eddmina took a few slow, deep breaths, clearing her mind from the thoughts of doom that had begun to settle over her.

"And you're all alone as well," he thought aloud, clearly enjoying and revelling in the moment. "That's alright, better off that way. I'll make quick work of it then have my fun with you,"

The footsteps stopped at the other side of the bed, and Eddmina was thankful that she'd rolled over to the far side. There was still some distance between them, but when she felt the bed dip slightly she knew she was running out of time. She shut her eyes once more as she felt his presence move closer towards her, hearing the chilling slash of a knife being pulled from it's sheaf. She needed a plan, otherwise she was going to die.

"I hate to kill such a pretty thing, you're not like the other one who's dead already," he was leaning over her, his breath dancing across her skin as he brushed her hair aside. "Not to worry, you'll be going somewhere where you won't be seeing anything you're not supposed to, somewhere you can't talk about the things you've seen,"

Eddmina listened carefully, yet the thing she heard the clearest was the part about 'the other one'. The other one who's dead already. Surely he didn't mean... Bran. She wasn't planning on lying down and quietly dying, but the thought of someone killing her then moving on to hurt her little brother made her insides burn up. All fear and panic she had previously felt went up in the flames of fury.

He leant down onto her, and though her back was to him and her eyes were closed she had created an image in her mind of exactly what was happening, especially as she felt him run his fingers down the soft skin of her neck. It was almost as if he wanted to wake her, to see the fear in her eyes before he killed her, but she refused to give him the pleasure. He wasn't going to get a quiet, easy kill, and he certainly wasn't going to have any sort of fun with her, and she kept that thought within her as if it was motivation for survival.

The imposter was unknowing of her true state, and so when she felt one of his hands snake round to hold her chest, as if trying to pin her down for him to get the job done easily with little resistance, she knew it was now or never. Springing to action, her eyes flew open and she reached out to the bedside cabinet, grabbing the flagon and flinging it behind her, praying that her aim was acceptable. It must have been as he let out a frustrated grunt of pain and she heard the splash of the water seeping over him. Not wasting a single moment of his shock, she quickly leapt from the bed and spun around so she could get her first look at her would-be murderer.

He was a much bigger person than she was, tall and broad holding a decorative knife with her name theoretically engraved onto the steel, yet despite the finery he looked shabby. He was no luxurious assassin on the payroll of nobility, just some sellsword off the streets. Perhaps that was all part of it, perhaps someone had sent him thinking he looked poor enough to be inconspicuous, poor enough to just pass for a madman struck with the desire of killing a highborn lady. Yet his words had betrayed the truth, and it was obvious he was sent by someone who wanted her dead but didn't want to do the dirty work to bloody their own hands with her. Part of her desperately wanted to know the truth, to question him and find out exactly why he had been sent and who wanted her dead, but Eddmina knew there was a time for talking and a time for acting, and she was about to be murdered if she didn't move quickly.

The flagon had shattered over him, the clay cutting his exposed skin slightly, but the most damage it had done was soak his face and clothes as well as leave him a little frozen in confusion. He cursed as he wiped his eyes, trying to regain his vision properly, giving Eddmina the opportunity to run to the desk to grab the dagger. If she lived, she would have to write to Oberyn to thank him for unknowingly saving her life, but that would have to wait.

"You fucking bitch," he cursed, staggering up from the bed, glowering at her.

Eddmina didn't respond, she merely held the dagger out as if trying to show him that she wasn't an easy target. She remembered all the fighting lessons Robb had snuck her into, all the times he had offered to teach her combat and she had happily accepted in the hopes that the lessons would be nothing more than simple rebellion against their mother and her septa. All the lessons had proven worthless really, as she felt completely helpless, wishing that there was a bow to hand since that was the only thing she excelled at. She wasn't going to let him know how she felt though, steeling herself off from her emotions as she glared at him. Fear, however, seemed utterly unavoidable as she watched him, noticing the way his eyes drifted down to her stomach. Disgusted and overwhelmed with protectiveness, Eddmina wrapped her spare arm around her bump.

"No one told me you were with child," he said as if thinking out loud, and for a moment Eddmina thought he was getting cold feet until she saw a devious glint flicker in his gaze. "Even better, I'll demand twice the gold now,"

"You fucking come near me and I swear I'll kill you," she snarled, spitting her words before she even realised she was speaking, her fight or flight mode kicking in.

Without thought, she had chosen fight. If she were to die, she'd not go without at least showing the gods how desperately she wanted to live. She wanted to see Willas again, she wanted to see her family again, she wanted to hold her child and build a life for them, she wanted to live. She refused to let a sellsword rob her of all of that because someone had paid him a sack of gold. With that thought, she decided to make the first move, running at him with the dagger pointed out in front of her. It was foolish and reckless, but at least she didn't feel as though she was cowering in the corner.

Perhaps cowering would have been safer, Eddmina considered, as he merely laughed at her. She slashed her blade at his right arm, the one holding his own weapon, and though it cut through the leather of his sleeve and she could see the faint traces of blood along the tip of her dagger, he grabbed her arm and bent it round, not only disarming her but managing to twist her whole body. The Dornish dagger clanged to the floor, though the noise was drowned out by the slight yelp of pain that escaped from Eddmina's lips as he pulled her back to his chest. He was still holding her arm in a tight grip behind her back, whilst his other arm snaked around her waist. Although she couldn't see his face she could practically feel the sly smirk that grew on his face as he held the flat of his knife against her stomach.

"Get off me," Eddmina hissed, struggling in his bounding grip. She wouldn't give up, she couldn't.

She did everything she could, stamping on his feet, clawing at his knife-arm with her spare hand, but it was all in vain. He was simply too strong for her, and she could feel herself shaking despite the constant attempts for bravery. It felt like forever but in reality was barely seconds, but she had fought and lost. She felt him move the knife up to her throat, letting go of her pinned arm to instead grip her hair, tugging it viciously so her neck was jerked back. The back of her head was pulled to rest on his chest, the gesture forcing her to look at him. She hoped she didn't look scared, but fear was replaced with anger almost instantly the moment she saw the way he looked at her, as if she was an animal he'd caught in a hunt. In retaliation she spat at him, but he merely chuckled.

"I'll make it quick, I don't like hurting ladies," he told her before leaning closer to her ear and whispering, "Time to die, Lady Stark,"

"Lady Tyrell," she breathed out, her voice shaking as she felt the ice cold metal rest against her throat, feeling her insides twist in terror painfully as she shivered. "I'm a Tyrell too,"

He didn't hear her, but Eddmina didn't care. Those words were more for her.

'I'm a Tyrell,' she thought again, clenching her eyes shut as she thought of her husband. 'I'm a Tyrell, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Willas. I'm sorry Willas, please know I'm sorry, and I love you. Gods, I love you, Willas. I love you. Willas, I-'

Suddenly the knife was gone from her throat. She had shut her eyes, subjecting herself to darkness as if to welcome death bravely, not to hide from fate. For a brief flicker of time Eddmina thought she was dead, but then she realised that her killer was gone too, feeling her body released from his hold. Her balance had been entirely resting on him so she dropped to the floor, but when she finally worked up the courage to open her eyes she felt as if all her senses came rushing back at once. Not only could she see that her killer was now sprawled on the floor in an unnatural position, but she could also hear the savage snarling of a wolf, and she could also smell the blood. She had to blink a few times to force her mind to focus on what was happening, and eventually she understood the situation around her.

She was on the floor, fallen onto her side with her arms wrapped around her stomach, a subconscious act of protection, and right next to her was the corpse of her attempted murderer, currently being murdered by Honour, the wolf's topaz eyes filled with nothing but fearsome rage as blood stained her muzzle, her paws pinning down the man's shoulders. From what Eddmina could see his mouth was open as if attempting a scream, something he would struggle with considering Honour had bitten his throat out.

Honour had saved her. Her dream had been right, she had sensed danger and ran back, and though Eddmina wanted to pull her wolf close and embrace her in gratitude, she couldn't tear her eyes from her almost killer. In the absence of fear fury overwhelmed her, and before she even understood her actions she had picked up her dagger from the floor and crawled over to him, screaming as she stabbed him in the chest. He was dead anyway, it was a useless gesture, but she wasn't thinking. Repeating it over and over, her hands were shaking as she became soaked in his blood.

Her arm hurt, the arm holding the dagger, her wrist in particular throbbing to the point she had to switch hands, holding the dagger instead with her right hand. Pins and needles were running up her whole arm, while the rest of her body throbbed in pain, her head spinning. She wasn't sure if it was from the smell of the blood or the situation in general, but she felt sick, and she felt her vision become clouded with dark spots. She didn't stop though, her breathing becoming shaken and shallow as her chest became tight, angry tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. She could've been killed, the man beneath her was going to steal her life from her, steal her child's life. She could barely forgive him for wanting to kill her but wanting to harm her child... Eddmina was so impassioned in her rage that she lost all sense of herself in a spiral of emotion.

Eddmina's focus was purely on the dagger, even if she could barely see it, so she didn't even hear more footsteps until a pair of arms were wrapping themselves around her shoulders, gently lifting her away from the bloody mess she and Honour had created.

"Come on, Edd, you're alright, he's dead, you're safe," a soft voice told her, her mind still strained that she barely recognised Theon's voice.

He helped her to her feet, however the rage had drained her of adrenaline, and she immediately sagged against him. Honour finally abandoned her kill to trot over to Eddmina's side, nudging her hand with her bloody muzzle. She let out a low howl, the sound being much kinder than the snarls she'd previously been releasing. Eddmina attempted a weak smile, but she didn't have the energy, barely able to stand. Theon realised that and quickly swept her into his arms, holding her bridal style while her head lolled to rest against his chest.

"Theon," she managed to choke out, her throat feeling as though it had closed, her voice strained. She could barely look at him, her head swimming as she felt herself slipping way from consciousness. "Theon, I don't want to die,"

"You're not going to die," he reassured her, grateful that she couldn't see how worried he was for her. "You're not going to die, Edd, I've got you, you're safe I promise,"

As if to show just how serious that promise was he brushed his lips against her forehead, just as she felt herself give in to the darkness.

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Word count: 7077

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