In the grand scheme of things, the feast wasn't so awful. Eddmina hated feasts, but the food was nice enough, there was music playing, and the company was rather nice. Sat between Willas and Robb, with Garlan and Leonette across from them, Eddmina decided she had definitely chosen her seat correctly, since just down the bench she could see Sansa chatting animatedly to her friends while occasionally sparing a longing glance to the prince, who was sat with the rest of the Lannister crowd across the hall. Arya, who'd been made to sit next to Sansa by their Septa, looked terribly bored.

Eddmina was certain she'd never seen Winterfell's great hall so alive. Not even when the Tyrells visited were the feasts so brimming with life. People were chatting loudly, exchanging stories and booms of laughter rang about the hall. She wondered if this was what life at the royal court was always like, and even if a part of her was enjoying it, she still disliked the thought of such environments being a daily part of her life. If she wasn't with Willas, and if it wouldn't reflect badly on house Tyrell and house Stark, Eddmina was certain she would have already left. After all, her spare plate of food was now piled high, and the sooner she could sneak out of the hall with the food to the quiet company of Jon, the better.

Willas could probably sense her dislike for the festivities, as he squeezed her hand gently. He'd been holding her hand all night wherever possible. Perhaps that was just him wanting to remain in the happy mindset they had put themselves in earlier, but Eddmina didn't mind, she rather liked it, because even if her home was full of strangers, at least she had him. It was strange how different they were, however, since Willas looked to be enjoying himself, though that probably boiled down to his upbringing. Highgarden was constantly hosting parties, while Winterfell hadn't seen excitement like the royal visit for a long, long time.

"Edda," Sansa called quietly from behind as she tapped her sister's shoulder. Eddmina swigged her wine before turning round to face her, already suspecting what her sister wanted. "Edda, will you come with me to greet the Queen?"

"I've already greeted her today," Eddmina stated stubbornly, watching as Sansa's face fell disappointedly before she gained a brave look about her.

Eddmina knew Sansa would greet Cersei regardless, and the thought of her little sister facing up to the Queen alone made all of her protective instincts rear up. With a sigh of slight frustration Eddmina took another sip of wine for confidence, and squeezed Willas' hand. He could tell how badly she didn't want to go to the Queen, and so he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek for luck, though the soft gesture made her blush slightly. Sansa let out a noise of impatience, making Eddmina remember the situation, and as she got up from the bench and linked her arm in her sisters, she glanced over to the Queen, only to realise she was already staring at her, a displeased look gracing her face. Eddmina wondered what she could have done to offend her, though she wondered if it was because societal expectations dictated that she should remain at the top table. She couldn't imagine her mother was much company, the two women vastly different. Their father had already left the table, though he was too honourable to have abandoned the feast he was definitely off talking with someone in a corner to avoid the spectacle, while the king had taken the opposite approach. Eddmina only realised as she got up that it was his voice booming the loudest with laughter, and he seemed to be drunkenly flirting with every woman nearby.

The sight of the king made it click in her mind; was the Queen watching her out of jealousy? Her husband was off making a drunken fool of himself while Willas was the complete opposite, doting on Eddmina. Surely the Queen, who was at least twenty years older than her, wasn't jealous or bitter that their husbands were so vastly different? Eddmina decided it was too ridiculous of a thought to even dwell on, and before she knew it she and Sansa were at the top table, curtsying to the Queen herself. Out of the corner of her eye, Eddmina caught her mother's gaze, and while she was looking at Sansa encouragingly, she glanced at Eddmina worriedly, as if willing her to be sensible and courteous.

If their mother was watching Eddmina, the same couldn't be said for the Queen, who was instead beaming at Sansa. That was probably doing wonders for Sansa's confidence and the self-worth she constantly rooted in the approval of other people. Eddmina watched cautiously, remembering that this was the same Queen who ignored herself and Robb out of rude stubbornness.

"Hello, little dove," she greeted, and Sansa seemed to be fighting off a grin of delight. Eddmina decided if anyone ever tried to call her 'little dove' she would feel sickened. "But you are a beauty! How old are you?"

"Thirteen, your grace," Sansa said graciously, though she was clearly delighting at the thought of the Queen realising she was the same age as the Prince.

"You're tall," the Queen remarked, looking her up and down carefully, and Eddmina fought the instinct to tear her little sister away and hide her far from any plotting Southerner. "Still growing?"

"I think so, your grace," she replied politely, oblivious to the protective turmoil her sister was suffering.

"And have you bled yet?" The Queen asked bluntly, still wearing her smile, though Sansa's fell in shock.

That was it, Eddmina wanted to leave. She remembered the horrific nightmare she suffered the first night she bled, and how painful the months had been since, and the thought of her little sister suffering the same, despite it being natural, was too much. Even their mother seemed a bit off-put, knowing exactly why the Queen was questioning her like that, yet she didn't dare try to put a stop to it. Knowing how awkward she felt, Eddmina squeezed Sansa's arm reassuringly, hoping that she would take the gesture to mean that she didn't have to say anything she didn't want to, but instead it boosted her confidence, and she eventually shook her head.

"No, your grace," she answered, her voice a little quieter than before.

Eddmina and Catelyn made eye contact, both of them exchanging a silent look off frustration and despair at the direction of the conversation. Mother and daughter might not always agree or be the closest, but they both had Sansa's best interests at heart, and Eddmina knew deep down her mother was not ready to think about Sansa becoming a woman, let alone getting married. She was a child, she should enjoy being a child without the worries of an aspiring woman, and the presence of the royals wasn't helping that.

"You're dress is pretty, such talent! You should make something for me one day," the Queen beamed again as she changed the topic, before she turned her attention onto Eddmina, who was hoping she would go unnoticed. "And you, I'm afraid I didn't get to congratulate you earlier, I hear your wedding was rather magnificent, and it seems like Lord Tyrell rather likes you,"

So, Cersei had been watching her. Perhaps she was jealous after all, not of the man himself but how kind and caring Willas was, while her own husband was off jeering at some serving wench. Eddmina tried to think nothing of it, and instead smiled politely.

"Thank you, your grace, it was a rather magnificent wedding, and a wonderful pairing that I believe I have you and the late Lord Arryn to thank for," Eddmina nodded her head gratefully, trying not to enjoy her mother's hidden look of annoyance, considering she only knew the exact details of her betrothal from sneaking into the Maester's office to read the letter her mother had hidden. "Though my husband isn't Lord Tyrell yet, and hopefully won't be for some time,"

"Of course," the Queen nodded, her smile more false than it had been with Sansa as she looked her up and down, far more scrutiny on her expression. "Well, regardless, the pair of you seem rather happy indeed. Any thoughts on when you'll be having children?"

"No, your grace," Eddmina answered stonily, hoping that her face hadn't flushed red as she felt herself turn hot, not once breaking eye contact with the Queen so to avoid her mother and sister's eyes. "We aren't rushing things. We'd like to travel first, while we still have the time,"

Eddmina wished Sansa would stop staring at her, because in that moment she felt her gaze burning into her, and she knew it was a mixture of admiration and jealousy. Perhaps if Eddmina was married to a Prince things would be far worse, but Sansa was still ever so slightly jealous because Eddmina had the exact life she dreamed of. A kind, handsome husband, a promising future as consort to a wealthy southern house, a beautiful marital home. Yet she could tell Sansa didn't approve of her dislike of immediately starting a family. After all, in Sansa's eyes, Eddmina's life was almost perfect, why not make it complete?

Her mother, on the other hand, looked horrified at the thought of her eldest starting her own family. Part of Eddmina assumed her mother still wanted another child, and she also knew just how much her mother hated the thought of her being married. Clearly imagining her oldest child with a child of her own was rather alarming. Though she hadn't even broken her expression when Sansa was questioned, she looked at Eddmina with narrowed eyes, shaking her head slightly, as if telling her to tell the truth but still be polite. Maybe her expression was just because she hated the very thought that Cersei had made them all consider.

"Well, sometimes things just happen, especially when it comes to having children," the Queen smiled at her, utterly patronising to the point that Eddmina wanted to storm off an spend the rest of the night out in the cold getting drunk with Jon. "I wish the two of you the best of luck, what a happy family you will make,"

Despite the bitterness in her voice, Eddmina nodded her head politely, and she knew that the remark was meant to dismiss the two of them, so both sisters curtseyed again before Eddmina led Sansa back down to their table. Sansa seemed so excited, whispering to her sister joyfully about how well the meeting had gone and how lovely the Queen was to them, and she tried to smile and nod, playing along, but in truth her own mind was racing, feeling relieved to be away.

Eddmina returned to the table, desperately trying not to think about the Queen's words. She was the Queen, it's her job to be interested in the subjects of Westeros and their lives, especially the nobility. Of course she would ask about children, that didn't change anything or make Eddmina suddenly feel maternal, the only thing that it did change was it made her panic. It made her think about how undereducated she was about her body, how no one had ever really told her anything about pregnancy, and how there were no books in the library detailing the symptoms or the side affects. It made her realise the only thing she really knew was that being pregnant meant her bloods would stop, and she hadn't flowered since at least before their visit to Dorne. The one thing she had been told by her mother was that it was sometimes normal for them to be late or missing sometimes, so surely there was nothing to worry about? Regardless, Eddmina made a mental note to scour the library for absolutely anything she could get her hands on about preventing pregnancy, and if that failed she decided she'd just have to ask the Maester. It would be fine.

"Everything alright, my love?" Willas asked her as she sat back down, taking hold of her hand and kissing her knuckles. "Did she say anything of interest?"

"Not particularly, you know I hate small talk," she shrugged, making him chuckle slightly.

She looked around the table, noticing that Robb had gone off to talk to some of the other northerners. Garlan and Leonette had also departed, gone to mix with the southern visitors. At the end of the table, Arya looked awfully bored, and Eddmina assumed it was only a matter of time before she got up to some mischief. The rest of the party seemed to be carrying on around them, though it was only after talking with the Queen did she realise just how tired of the setting she was.

"Why don't you head off? I know you want to see your brother," Willas suggested, gesturing at the plate of food.

"Would you mind?" she asked with a relieved sigh, though she could tell he didn't mind at all, not as he shook his head with a small smile, squeezing her hand.

Except she didn't have chance to leave, because she felt someone place their hand on her shoulder, and as she turned her head to look at who was she gasped in recognition.

"Uncle Benjen!" she practically cheered, jumping up from her seat to hug her uncle, who was laughing in amusement at her excitement. "I didn't realise you were coming! I'm so glad to see you,"

"What, you think I'd miss out on seeing a bunch of southerners descend on Winterfell?" he chuckled, hugging her back tightly before they parted, and she looked him over, happy to see he was unchanged despite the few years since she had last seen him; No sign of harm or injury. "Though from what I hear, my favourite niece has only gone and become a southerner herself,"

"I always thought Arya was your favourite," she shrugged, smirking slightly as she gestured to Willas, who had risen to greet the new arrival. "This is Willas,"

"Nice to finally meet the man behind the letters," Benjen greeted, shaking Willas' hand, referring to the few letters they had exchanged about the Wall. "I assume you're looking after our Edd alright?"

"Of course, I think the world of Eddmina," Willas said, briefly glancing at her with a smile. "It's good to finally meet you, Mina's taught me as much as she knows about the Wall and the Watch,"

"Hopefully you're not as interested in the Watch as my nephew," he replied, glancing behind him at the doors out to the courtyard where Jon was banished. He looked back around the hall before looking to Eddmina. "I should go find your father, d'you know where he is?"

"Probably some dark corner where he can avoid most of the festivities," she joked with a slight grin. "It's good to see you, Uncle,"

"And you, Edda," he smiled back at her, nodding to Willas, before disappearing back into the crowd in search of his brother.

"You should go find Jon," Willas suggested. "I'm assuming from what your Uncle said he asked about the Watch and didn't receive the answer he wanted,"

"You're right," she nodded, kissing his cheek and daring to glance over to the Queen to see if she was still watching; she was. "I'll see you soon,"

With that, she gathered up the plate of food and a pitcher of wine and began her escape. It was a little tricky, considering how busy the hall was, though just as she got to the doors she heard Sansa shriek Arya's name, and she had to fight off a grin as she wondered just what her little sister had done.

Getting out into the cold air of the courtyard was refreshing to the point that she sighed with relief, happy to leave the party behind her. Across the courtyard she could see Jon, training with his sword, though he wasn't alone, the sound of hushed voices carrying over to her. One of the voices was Jon, his gruff northern voice laced with annoyance, while the other voice was unknown. Part of her was a little concerned she was interrupting something, but as she got closer she recognised the figure Jon was talking to; Tyrion Lannister.

She'd heard plenty about the youngest Lannister, not all of it being particularly emboldening. Word had it he was a drunken little letch, but the same could be said for Theon, and for years she was comfortable letting him into her private chambers, so she could hardly be prejudiced against him for that. Besides, Eddmina had learnt to try and not judge people by their reputations, as once upon a time all she had heard of Willas was the reputation her sister told her of, and nothing was more incorrect than what others had to say about her husband. Perhaps Lord Tyrion was just as misunderstood, or perhaps she really was a wretch of a man, but Eddmina couldn't be certain.

They heard her approaching, and when Jon turned to meet her eye, he seemed a mixture of confused and relieved. Confused as to what Lord Tyrion was talking about, and relieved that her presence probably meant the Lannister would leave him alone. Tyrion, however, seemed rather amused at her arrival, as he raised a wine goblet to her in a form of a salute.

"Ah, at least one member of your family likes you enough to join!" he remarked to Jon, and Eddmina fought against the instinct to throw the plate of food over him. "Greetings, Lady Tyrell,"

"I'm not Lady Tyrell yet, my goodparents are still rather healthy, thank you," she replied stoically, taking her place next to her brother and handing him the leftovers. "Welcome to Winterfell, my Lord,"

"I'm not a Lord yet either, my father is still well too, unfortunately," he replied, the last word barely audible as he sipped his wine, looking over at the hall with slight disgust. "I think it's about time to go join the party, don't you think? Pleasure meeting you both,"

With that, Lord Tyrion departed, swigging his wine again as he headed off into the hall, leaving Eddmina baffled. She couldn't believe he'd been out in the courtyard talking to Jon, and she couldn't believe he had the audacity to imply Jon's own family didn't like him. At the same time though, she found him oddly likeable, strangely charismatic, and immediately liked him far more than she liked his sister. At least he spoke his mind, unlike Cersei.

"What did he say to you?" Eddmina asked, the moment Tyrion had disappeared into the hall, though Jon was far too busy biting into a chicken leg. She hopped up onto a table while Jon stood next to her, too focused on the food. "We should have smuggled you into the hall, dressed you in green with your hair tied back and claimed you were some distant Tyrell cousin, that would have driven my mother half mad,"

"He called me the bastard," he muttered as soon as he'd swallowed his food. "I know I am, but that doesn't mean I have to like it,"

"If it makes you feel better Uncle Benjen called me a southerner, so that makes us both the family outcasts," she attempted to joke, and while Jon laughed, it was a short laugh with little humour. "What did he say, Jon?"

"Told me not to forget that I'm a bastard, because that way the world can't use it against me," he shrugged. "Told me that all dwarves are bastards in their fathers eyes,"

"Only bad fathers," she commented before sighing. "Jon, you know our father loves you. You know he views you as much his son as he does Robb, Bran and Rickon, it's mother, and-"

"But I'm not a Stark though, am I, Edd?" he snapped a little, clearly frustrated. "I'm not the same as any of you, and I thought maybe going to the Wall would give me a place, somewhere that I'm not constantly shut out and cut off, but not even they want me!"

"You're eighteen, Jon!" she pointed out. "Perhaps Uncle Benjen might have a point telling you to wait a little, you've barely lived your own life, even if you would be dedicating it to the most worthy cause,"

"You're eighteen too, Edd, and you're married!" he spoke back quickly, and she sighed again, folding her arms across her chest. "You always thought you were the same as me, on the outside of the rest of the family, but you've got the Tyrells now, you've found your place, but I can't even go to the Wall,"

"There's time, Jon, I promise," she told him sincerely, hating to see her brother in such a state. "Uncle Benjen might change his mind if he speaks to father, he might take you back with him, but if he doesn't, you can come back to the Reach with me. You can stay in Highgarden and help the master of arms or anyone, they can give you some more experience, you'll see just a little bit more of the world. Gods, I'll even take you down to Dorne so you can meet the Martells, and you can come to Braavos and Lys with Willas and I, and if that's not enough living for Uncle Benjen then the Wall doesn't deserve you! I want to help, Jon, I promise I'll try and help,"

Jon sighed, knowing just how hard his sister was trying. He could see she was worrying over him, more worried than usual. Though they were only apart in age by a few months at most, Eddmina had always been protective over him, and he knew what few luxuries he got that weren't due to his father were usually thanks to her and her habit of kicking up a fuss with her mother. He was truly grateful, so even if he was still frustrated with the situation, he forced a small smile of gratitude.

"You're a good sister, Edd," he told her honestly, though she rolled her eyes.

Across the courtyard, the two of them spotted Robb, practically carrying Arya out of the hall. Eddmina's twin was clearly fighting off laughter, while Arya seemed both pleased and annoyed, her arms folded across her chest.

"I didn't even do anything! She was being stupid as usual, it was only some creamed potato, it didn't ruin her dress!" they heard Arya arguing, shortly followed by the sound of Robb's stifled laughter as they disappeared off down one of the corridors to their rooms.

Neither Eddmina or Jon could hold back their laughter, the two of them sat under the moonlight, thinking their lives were so difficult yet unknowing of the fact they were on the cusp of everything changing irreversibly forever.

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Word count: 3828

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