Two weeks into their journey south and Eddmina reached a milestone, having gone further south than she ever had done before. It was a weird realisation that had hit her the middle of the night as she laid wide awake in bed, and it was one that seemed to anger and upset her simultaneously. She didn't quite know why, as she'd always prepared herself for the prospect of moving far from her family, but now it was a reality it seemed far trickier than she ever thought it would be.

It had only been two weeks and she'd missed her family more than she thought possible. Whenever she caught sight of her face in the mirror at a certain angle she was reminded of her twin, who she'd never lived a day without before, and occasionally on the mornings when her hair was rather unruly she was reminded of her bastard brother. Little cruel reminders like that seemed to exist for all of her family, like the high towers they saw as they passed the Twins that made Eddmina think of Bran and his climbing, or the mean old cat that lived in the inn that they stayed in just past Moat Cailin that immediately softened when she went to pet it, reminding her of Arya. One night as they stayed in a rather rich inn Eddmina was unable to sleep as a singer was performing downstairs, singing a song she recognised to be Sansa's favourite. Even a group of young children playing with toy wooden swords made her want to cry for Rickon.

She missed her parents too. She missed going to prey with her father in the Godswood, she missed talking to him and sitting next to him at mealtimes. She missed his reassurance that she was loved and valued despite her insecurities and uncertainties about herself. Her father was one of the only ones to know the way she felt about herself, how she viewed herself as the black sheep or even 'the other bastard', and she missed him constantly being there to make her feel as if her thoughts of her self-worth were irrational. She missed her mother too, surprisingly, given that she was the one to instil those thoughts in Eddmina's head. Part of her longed for her mother to sigh at her or to lecture her for her strong-will, but another part of her realised just how much she loved Lady Catelyn. Of course she had always put pressure on her and the role she would hold in promoting the future of House Stark, and she could often come across as quite bitter to her eldest child, but that bitterness was purely out of love, something that Eddmina found herself longing for.

There were many things Eddmina was longing for, though. She wanted to sleep, first of all. They spent all day riding and found inns and taverns to rest in overnight, only to rise early the next morning when it would begin all over again. Of course the Tyrells were rich, so it would only be the finest accommodations, but Eddmina would've much preferred the lack of attention that would've come from cheaper places. In an attempt to remain respectable and flex some sort of independence, Eddmina insisted on riding everyday, and her legs felt like leather. Not that she would give in, however, as riding was the only chance she got to speak to Willas.

It was as if his family were trying to keep the two apart, as the rooms he was given were always far from hers that she shared with Margaery, and when they ate he was always sat far from her. Perhaps the Tyrell's intentions were to keep them separated until their wedding in just over a months time, but they couldn't keep them separated in the day when the two would ride their horses alongside each other. Neither of them really spoke, and when they did it wasn't particularly meaningful conversation. Usually it was about the weather, and how everyday it felt as though it was growing warmer, to the extent Eddmina rode without a cloak for the first time ever a week into their journey, much sooner than any of the southerners. Occasionally, however, Willas would point out a bird he'd spotted, or a rare plant or some other part of the wildlife they were riding through, and he would discuss all about it to her. She knew he was smart from the days they spent together in the library at Winterfell, but she never realised just how intelligent he actually was, and it was a part of him she utterly admired.

She liked talking to Willas. Not only was he smart but he was also funny, often making witty remarks to her that made her laugh. Talking to him was like a vague reminder of the days she would spend with her brothers laughing and joking around, except Willas was completely different because he was something else entirely. Spending time with him seemed to relieve the sense of homesickness that had started seeping into her, to the extent that she missed him when she wasn't around him.

It was that night when it dawned on her just how far from home she truly was that she noted just how much she had come to rely on him. She felt sick with nerves, and knew there was no one in their party that would relieve her of those feelings, no one but him, except it was late and she had no idea where his room was. She couldn't stay in her chamber though, not as Margaery's soft snores seemed to heighten her loneliness, so instead she slipped into a dark blue dress, the one she had set out for the morning, and pulled on her boots, wrapping a cloak around her just for decency, before heading out of the room silently.

She wasn't entirely sure where she was going. Perhaps the stables, where she could sit with Flint just for a reminder of home, or maybe for a walk. Both options didn't seem majorly appealing though, making her decide instead to head down to the bar downstairs in the inn. She worried for a moment that she'd be vulnerable there, as a young maiden, but soon grew brave, reminding herself that they weren't so far south that her name and house meant nothing.

As she crept down the stairs and into the bar, Eddmina heard very little, in fact hearing only two voices. Either the bar was entirely empty or everyone was silent barring those two men, who's conversation came though the heavy wood door. She wasn't one to pry usually, but Eddmina decided to listen for a moment before judging whether or not she should go in to get a drink, and so she gently leant against the door.

"Trust me, brother, it isn't as hard as you think it will be," the first voice said brightly, as if the man had just been laughing. It sounded like Garlan, the second eldest Tyrell, the one who always smiled at Eddmina before winking at his older brother. "I cannot talk though, you remember how nervous I was before my wedding,"

"I thought you were going to shit yourself in the sept," another laugh came, and Eddmina instantly recognised that voice as Willas', the sound of him making her insides flip. "It isn't as simple as your wedding though, you love Leonette,"

"Oh, please, don't try and tell me you don't feel the same way about your bride!" Garlan exclaimed, and Eddmina felt herself grow cold as she was mentioned, especially given the context of the conversation. "Surely you feel some sort of way for your wolf?"

"It's not like that, not yet anyway," Willas sighed, and she couldn't help but wonder just what he thought of her; was she going to find out he'd been putting on a front to her this whole time? "Of course I care for Eddmina in some way, it's just... Gods, I don't want her to not like me. You've seen how stubborn she is, and I believe she truly is scared of marriage, and I want to make her feel comfortable around me and not be so scared of me, but I just... I don't know how I can win her trust,"

Is that what he thought of her? Stubborn and scared? Part of her was angry, given the fact she didn't see herself as either of those things, but then she remembered how she'd been acting around him, and for him to come to those conclusions seemed to make perfect sense. She'd picked up on the fact of his desperation to make her feel at ease, but she never noticed just how much it meant to him. It sounded as if he was as wary of the whole situation as she was, and that seemed to reassure her, because if he was nervous too, maybe they could both be nervous together. Perhaps there was no point in suffering though her nerves alone.

"She's so beautiful, though, Garlan," Willas continued, sounding as though he was making a deadly confession. "And she's strong and smart too, everything I wanted in a bride and future lady of the Reach. I am glad that if I have to marry it will be to her, but I just fear that she will not be as happy with me as I am with her. Perhaps if my leg-"

"Don't talk shit, Willas," Garlan interrupted, sounding fiercely protective all of a sudden, and Eddmina noted just how much the brothers cared about each other. "You are far more than your bad leg, seven hells! Surely if your betrothed is as smart and caring as you make her out to be she will realise that as well,"

In truth, Eddmina had barely noticed Willas' bad leg. Of course she knew about it, but not the details of the accident that led to him being crippled, and she didn't want to ask. It wouldn't have been polite to ask him about his leg, not when she could tell he was conscious of it, and she didn't want him to think she spent hours thinking of it, because it barely crossed her mind. She much rather cared about him as a man and what their marriage would be like, and she wished she could tell him that to put his nerves at ease, but that would be impossible without giving away she'd been listening in.

The two men's conversation changed, and Eddmina, still wanting a drink and the company of people to cure her insomnia, decided to wait a moment before creaking the door open. She stood in the doorway, looking in at the two brothers, both of whom looked surprised to see her. Willas especially, as he rose from his seat, his eyes widened at the sight of her.

"Mina," he greeted, trying not to seem nervous, though she kept her expression clear of any tell-tale signs that she'd heard him talking of her. "What are you doing down here so late?"

"I couldn't sleep," she told them both, her gaze flicking between both Willas and Garlan before eventually settling on her betrothed, who looked rather handsome in just a shirt with his hair messed up in wild curls.

"Why don't you come sit with us?" Garlan offered, pointing at the spare chair at their table, and she noticed Willas shoot him a look, confused at his offer. "We've hardly spoken, and I'd like to get to know my future sister,"

"Alright," she nodded, trying not to appear nervous at the mention of the wedding and her future with house Tyrell as she crossed the room and took a seat across from the two men, Willas sitting back down as she did. "Would it be improper of me to ask what you two are doing down here too?"

"No, not at all," Willas reassured her. "We couldn't sleep either, and what with the chaos of travelling I haven't had much chance to speak with my brother,"

"He misses me," Garlan grinned sarcastically, Willas rolling his eyes. "We used to do this regularly back home in High Garden, stop up late into the night with some wine and set the world to right, but he got too busy for me when we got to Winterfell,"

"Sorry about that," Eddmina joked, making Garlan snort out a laugh as Willas rolled his eyes once more, though he was glad to see his brother and his betrothed get along.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry, Lady Stark, perhaps you could join us in our gatherings when we get home," he suggested with a small shrug as he poured himself another cup of wine from the now-empty flagon on their table. "My wife Leonette rather likes our wine evenings as well, and I'm sure the two of you will get along greatly,"

"I'm excited to meet her, and I'm actually excited to get to High Garden," she told them both, smiling slightly. "Though I don't know if that's just so we're off the road,"

The two laughed at her comment, and Eddmina felt herself relax into the atmosphere of the room, leaning back into her chair as she tried to appear less formal, less like she was on edge. She eased into the situation more as Garlan got up from his seat and headed over to the bar, helping himself to another flagon of wine and an empty goblet. He placed the goblet down onto the table in front of Eddmina, pouring her some wine, raising his eyebrow at her daringly.

"If you're going to join us, you may as well drink with us," he explained, sitting back down in his own seat, and once he'd poured himself another drink he raised his glass at the two. "Perhaps a toast? To your wedding,"

Garlan seemed determined to break the ice between Willas and Eddmina, because as much as the two enjoyed each other's company, their impending marriage was still an awkward topic that the two rarely mentioned, even if it was difficult to avoid. At Garlan's toast, the two glanced at each other, both of them instantly stiffening in nerves, though they both raised their goblets, clinking them together before Eddmina took a large swig. As soon as the alcohol touched her tastebuds she grimaced, her dithering making both men laugh.

"The wine in the north is nicer," he excused herself, taking another sip as if to get used to it.

"I have to agree," Willas nodded, smirking at her slightly as he sniffed the alcohol. "I don't know how much northern wine we have in the cellars at High Garden so we'll have some sent down for the wedding,"

"No one likes a drunk groom at his own wedding," Garlan joked.

Willas merely rolled his eyes at Garlan's comment, but Eddmina snorted out a laugh. She'd never laughed like that in front of any of the Tyrells, it was a laugh normally reserved for her brothers and for a moment she didn't even really notice she'd done it, feeling so at ease as she sat with the two Tyrells. Willas noticed though, and he couldn't help but hope that it was a sign of her walls coming down, shooting Garlan a look of surprise, his brother smirking at him proudly as he shifted in his seat, looking at Eddmina daringly, as if trying to figure her out further.

"So, Eddmina," he began, narrowing his eyes at her slightly. "Tell us something about yourself,"

"About me?" she frowned, raising her eyebrow questioningly.

"We're all going to be family and we know nothing about you except for the fact you're the eldest Stark child," Garlan insisted with a shrug. "So, please, tell us something about you, anything,"

"Well..." she began, drifting off as her mind went blank, realising she had no idea what to say that wouldn't make her seem boring or dull, desperately wracking her brain for a decent anecdote. "Well, I taught myself to play the lute when I was fourteen. A travelling bard came to Winterfell once, and since my sister Sansa is a real lady when it comes to stories and songs she insisted our father had him stay so he could play music for us, and one night he had a lute. I'd never seen an instrument like it, and he played this song that even I liked, but Sansa loved it so much she cried. The next night was to be the bard's last in Winterfell, so after dinner I asked him if he could teach me the song, and so he sat me down and taught me the cords and the words and I memorised it all. Of course when he left he took the instrument with him so I had nothing to practice on, until my next nameday when my father surprised me with a lute of my own, and then I used what the bard had told me to teach myself the rest,"

"Did you pack your lute for High Garden?" Willas asked curiously, seeming genuinely interested.

"No," she shook her head sadly, and both Tyrells sensed the bitterness in her response. "My mother and the septa insisted it wasn't a ladylike instrument so they took it off me at the first chance. That was nearly a year after I was given it, so I'd still had plenty of practice, but I was told to learn the harp instead... The harp's shit in comparison,"

***

It was another two nights before Eddmina joined Willas and Garlan for wine, except this time they sought her out. Margaery had already snuck out and so she was in her room alone reading when the knock at the door came. It took her by surprise, especially as she opened the door to see Willas.

"I assumed you didn't fancy an early night," Willas greeted her, a small smirk appearing on his face at the sight of her, especially when he noticed that whilst she had not yet changed for bed she had taken her hair down, and free from its usual braid her long brown locks were tumbling down her back.

"You assumed right," she grinned back at him, slowly starting to feel more comfortable around him, following him out into the corridor as he began to lead her down to the bar of their inn.

When they entered they saw that it was only half full, no one bothering to look up at the newcomers as they crossed the room to find the table Garlan had found. It was in the far corner of the tavern, secluded enough for them to go undisturbed if anyone recognised them as nobility. Not that anyone would recognise Willas or Garlan, since they were still far too north for house Tyrell to hold massive significance. Eddmina, however, would be harder to go unnoticed, considering thy were still close enough to the Riverlands for house Tully to be important. She realised this, and quickly pulled her hair around her shoulders, using it practically as a shroud to hide her identity as they crossed the room. Willas noticed her do this, and as if to offer her some fort of support, he took hold of her arm, leading her to his brother.

Once they got to the table, the two of them noticed the flagon of wine, with three cups surrounding it. Garlan seemed to already be halfway through his, and there was a small smirk on his face as he watched Eddmina take her seat. Raising her eyebrow, she shot him a quizzical look as she began to sip her wine, wondering just why he seemed to be so glad to see her. That question was answered, however, as he lent down beneath the table and pulled out a lute, seeming almost triumphant as he held it out to a shocked Eddmina.

"God's be damned, where'd you get that?" she asked as she looked at it with narrowed eyes.

"Found it behind the bar," Garlan spoke with another smirk as he handed the instrument over to her. "Though I think you'll find it was my brother who was the motivating factor. He's been desperate to hear you play,"

"I wouldn't say desperate," Willas said quickly as if to redeem his reputation, shooting Garlan a glare before looking nervously to Eddmina who was inspecting the lute carefully. "Is it alright?"

"It's better than nothing," she shrugged nonchalantly, hiding the small smile creeping up onto her face. "I haven't played for years,"

"Well perhaps we should change that?" Garlan suggested, gesturing to the instrument again as if insisting for her to perform.

Part of Eddmina really didn't want to. The whole reason her mother had banned her from playing the lute was because it wasn't ladylike, and so it went against everything she'd ever been taught to play in front of the man who was soon to be her husband and her future brother-by-law. Still though, nothing about her was traditional, and she hated for Willas or Garlan to think she was just some boring girl who cowered in the face of rules and regulations. If anything, she thought maybe Willas liked that about her. He had grown up around Margaery after all, who seemed to be fearless in the face of traditions and expectations, and Eddmina didn't want to seem boring in comparison. She didn't want to pretend she was someone completely different just to fit into the expectation of ideal bride. So with that, she held the lute to her chest, allowing her fingers to hold over the strings to find the right chords, and began to play.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings, and learn to fly," she began to sing, her voice out of practice but finding the notes fine enough as she plucked at the lute strings perfectly despite years away from the instrument. "All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive,"

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these sunken eyes and learn to see, all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free," she continued, a small smile cracking across her face as she realised she could still remember the song, remembering just how happy playing the instrument had made her. "Blackbird fly, blackbird fly, into the light of the dark black night. Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise, you were only waiting for this moment to arise, you were only waiting for this moment..."

She drifted off, not on purpose but when she felt her throat close out of nerves as she glanced up and saw Willas watching her intently. There was a look in his eye of admiration, one that she had seen the last time she had played that song. That look had come from Sansa, her sister nealy crying with joy at Eddmina finally agreeing to sing for her, and though her sister seemed to admire her too, Willas' look seemed more intense, more caring, with a look of surprise as if he had just realised something rather serious.

Eddmina had realised something too. The last time she'd played that song, Sansa made some comment about how she felt like the blackbird, waiting to spread her wings once she'd left home. Eddmina always thought that was ridiculous. She felt as if the person she was at Winterfell was the person she would always be, the one she always would want to be, but maybe things weren't what she'd thought. In Winterfell, she was under the careful guidance of her mother and the septa. She had her freedoms, she could ride and shoot whenever she wanted, but she was usually restricted by them in the end. Her mother was disapointed in her, had been ever since she was born, and so even subconsciously she felt as though she was always striving to make up for that disappointment.

She wondered if Willas knew the magnitude of his gesture of wanting to hear her play the lute. The lute was something her mother had taken away from her in order for her to be more of a traditional lady, more of a lady that would be appealing to her future betrothed. Except now she was sat with her betrothed, and one of the first things he wanted from her was something that made her happy, not something that was dictated to her by tradition. She realised that maybe Sansa wasn't the blackbird, maybe she was.

Willas however had realised something else, something very different. He realised that he was falling for the northern girl, faster than he ever thought possible.

***

Word count: 4144

***

Author's note: Suddenly this is an AU where Paul McCartney is a bard in Westeros. Seriously though, I researched other songs in the GOT lore and none stood out or held as much significance to Edda's character as I thought Blackbird did, but for a fic already named after a Beatles song there's bound to be a few references.

Hope you all enjoyed this, sorry for the very slow update but please let me know what you think!

~Olivia