Only A Northern Song ~ Game of Thrones / Willas Tyrell ~

Chapter Fifty: Safe Travels

"Come to kiss me farewell, Princess?" Theon called with his signature smirk as he saw Eddmina walking across camp to where he was readying his horse for travel, so early in the morning that there was still a slight fog in the air.

"You wish," she rolled her eyes, pulling her cloak closer as she felt the chill of the breeze. "How do you feel?"

"Thrilled," he grinned, though she knew him well enough to know when he was being sarcastic. "Shame for you, though. Me leaving, your husband leaving... I bet you're disappointed the timing didn't work out better."

"Theon, get a grip," she glared at him, already regretting rising early and losing precious time with Willas to say goodbye to Theon.

When he acted like that, Eddmina wondered why she even bothered. When he made comments like that, she wondered what she had ever seen in him in the first place, what had made her invite him into her bedchamber all those years ago. She was unsurprised by his behaviour though, having known him so long she was unfazed. In fact, she was a little concerned, given that he usually made such crude remarks when he was nervous or unsettled, using it as a way to put distance between himself and everyone else. He'd done it for as long as she'd known him, but she'd never managed to build up a complete resistance to it, merely learning to push away the immediate need to hit him long enough to figure out what it was that made him act in such a way.

"The next time I see you, we will have won this war," he promised her, finishing up with his horse. He turned to her, his arms folded cockily. "And I'll be a proper Iron Islander."

"A proper Iron Islander who is full of shit, as usual," she folded her own arms, biting her lip to fight against her smile. "This war is not that straight-forward, I'd hope you know that, and this won't be an easy task. You swore you'd always be there for Robb, I'd hope you'll remember that on your journey."

"Of course I'll remember that, he's my brother," he grew serious, frowning. "Don't you trust me?"

"I do, that's what scares me," she sighed, allowing herself a small smile as she looked him in the eye. "Promise me you'll take care."

"I'm going home, Edd, nothing can hurt me there," he laughed at first, then saw the genuine concern in her eyes, the look she was so desperately trying to conceal. "Robb needs this. I won't be gone long, and when I'm back we'll have a fleet of ships, and perhaps your husband will have won the favour of the Baratheons, then we can go and make the Lannisters shit themselves so badly the whole of the south will turn gold."

"Beautiful language choice," she replied stoically, rolling her eyes once more. Still though, she couldn't ignore the ache inside, the fear that she couldn't help that she was saying goodbye to someone else she held dear, no matter how much he frustrated her. "I have already lost my father, and my sisters are prisoners. I have one brother at the Wall and two more far away in Winterfell. My marital family most likely all hate me for convincing my husband that this war is a good idea. I cannot bare to lose another family member. I hate myself for saying this because you're never going to let me forget it and torture me for the rest of my life for this, but I cannot bare to lose you."

Theon looked her up and down for a moment, his face deathly serious. He recalled the first time he ever saw her when he first arrived in Winterfell. He saw her stood with her brothers, wearing a dress of Stark grey with mud around the bottom hem, her hair tied into a braided bun, a stoic expression perfected even at that young age, holding her younger sister, the girl that later grew into Arya. Even at the age of ten, Eddmina Stark seemed to be a perfect vision of a girl who knew who she was, and for a boy torn away from everything he knew, he hated it. He later found out that she was completely at a loss for who she was, and how she detested what awaited her in life, but even so, she continued to intimidate Theon with the courage she approached life with, and the grace in which she took what she hated face-on.