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

Chapter One Hundred: Before The Battle

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Daenerys only demanded that information once everyone else was dismissed and they had filed out of the map room. He hadn't thought she was too angry over it all, not since she quickly breezed past it to jump back to her own ideas, dishing out their required orders until all parts of her plans were issued out, but the moment they were done and she was attempting to get rid of everyone else except for her Hand, Willas saw her grasp onto Ser Jorah's arm as he passed her, pulling him close to whisper something to him. Willas hadn't heard that private command, but the way the Mormont knight nodded reverently, he could only assume it was an order he was more than happy to follow, while Willas was left wondering just what he had been asked.

His speculations couldn't linger for long, his mind not allowed to even dare down a darkened path, not since the doors were closed and he was alone with his Queen, who was watching him with a tinge of both sadness and betrayal. How he could have betrayed her, he was unsure, considering he had learnt of Griff's existence only hours before, and certainly didn't mean any harm from bringing him up. What did she expect him to do, uncrown her and have her thought-to-be-dead nephew crowned in her stead while shipping her back off to the East? If she thought that was something he even considered then she didn't know him at all.

"I've told you now," he answered simply. "I saw him training when I arrived. My sister told me his name is Griff, but she thought that wasn't his real name. She didn't suspect who he really was until I pointed out he looked like Prince Oberyn, who always told me his sister had looked like him. There is every chance that it is all some foolish coincidence, that he is nothing more than a castle urchin, but if he is not-"

"If he is not, then my cause is done," she summarised, despair welling in her eyes. "Men will rally to him if they believe he is my brother's son."

"Or you could simply enjoy having some family again?" Willas suggested. "You've told me about your brother. You told me about his cruelty, about the stories he told you of your other brother and your mother. They are all gone, but if Griff is Prince Rhaegar's son Aegon, then they are not all gone and you are not alone in this world. See that as a good thing."

"I would, I wish I could," she sighed, and for the first time since knowing her Willas wondered if she was about to cry. "But since Viserys sold me for an army I have lived my life trying to take back what was once ours, to avenge what was done to us while helping those who were forced to suffer like I was. I never wanted to be a Queen but I was called to it, and I've found that I am rather good at ruling and assisting the downtrodden. If I sit the Iron Throne then the common people will not suffer the games of high lords, but if the high lords see a Targaryen prince as an option over me then they will take it simply because it will keep themselves in power and their social order in place. It was you who lectured me in history, surely you see the potential for another Dance?"

"It was the first thing I thought of," he admitted. "But we are not our ancestors. I will not allow anything like that to happen again, and if we act quickly and cleverly, nothing like that will even be considered."

"That seems to be your motto, acting quickly," she let out a small laugh, staring down at the map.

"I've already lived a war where we moved too slowly," he countered, unable to help how his voice raised slightly, hating how she grimaced at his tone. "If my family had acted sooner in the Northern war it would still be Robb Stark wearing the Northern crown, and if I hadn't hesitated in grief then I would have acted against the Lannisters and Freys sooner and found that my wife was actually alive. I know what not acting quickly will do, and I would like not to risk similar consequences."

The mention of his wife and her northern family made Daenerys look up from the table and meet his gaze. She swallowed, her eyebrows parted sympathetically as she regarded him, and he wondered if his broken heart and emotional turmoil was as visible as he feared, if she knew just how torn up he was inside. If she did surely he would doubt his loyalty even further. Unable to find his voice to assure her of his trustworthyness, he simply shook his head.