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

Chapter One Hundred and Nine: Acknowledge

Willas hadn't intended on spending his afternoon and evening out of Winterfell, especially when all he wanted to do was spend every second with Eddmina and their children.

He had intended on doing nothing but getting to know his daughter and wrangle his son away from the training rings where he was determined to pick up a sword, and possibly even have supper with Eddmina if she allowed it. To some those plans were dull and meaningless, to him it sounded like a perfect day. It had already started out that way, with the snow and the opportunity of talking honestly to Eddmina, acting like a proper family again with their children, and he had thought it could only get better, his spirits feeling higher and lighter than ever.

A perfect day, interrupted by a summons that he couldn't ignore, and though he hated leaving the children with his sister and he sighed the entire time he spent saddling his horse, he still made the journey to Daenerys' camp regardless.

Perhaps it was the cold, or perhaps he still hadn't recovered from his journey north, but either way his knee ached the entire ride to camp. It nearly made him turn back, until he realised he had noticed it hurting because he was simply looking for any sort of excuse to turn back. If he blamed his knee, he could go back to Winterfell, back to his children, to his family, to Eddmina... The guilt he felt for leaving without telling her was almost as painful as his knee, knowing exactly how she would see it, yet he'd had no choice. The messenger that had brought the summons from Daenerys had made it quite obvious that he was needed - not wanted - and the Queen would not take no for an answer.

'I'll give her my position back,' he decided the moment he saw the camp, saw her black-and-red banner casting a startling shadow against the snow. 'Three days with Eddmina and I had forgotten I was Hand anyway. She can have my army, my full support, but I have another queen that needs me more.'

If there was a Queen in greater need, it was the one he had been married to. Daenerys still had everything to fight for, Daenerys' cause couldn't rest until she was on the throne, but Eddmina was fighting bigger battles. That was why he had wanted to see her in the evening, to get her to eat supper with him so that she might actually eat. He had wanted to share her bed again, just so that she could sleep properly once more. He wanted to spend every second with her, all so that he could get to know her once more, get to know how he could help her know herself again.

Leaving one queen for another was an easy, simple concept in his head, until he dismounted his horse at Daenerys' camp and saw two of her three dragons laid out on the hill. The snow had melted around them, as if their body heat alone could banish the winter, and as Drogon sighed in his sleep, smoke billowed out of his nostrils. Willas decided then that whatever he did with Daenerys had to be done cautiously. He'd already had one queen almost kill him, and that was the queen that didn't have dragons.

He entered the main tent without announcement or ceremony, and was greeted by the sight of Daenerys and her core party stood around a map table. Aegon-Griff had stayed behind on Dragonstone with Rhaegal, accompanied by a few of the Second Sons and Dothraki led by Dhario Naharis, but the others were there. Missandei, loyal as ever and practically glued to her queen's side, wary Ser Jorah who regarded him with his usual contempt, old Ser Barristan who managed a nod to him, dithery Theon Greyjoy who lingered by the edge of the table and refused to look at him, and Tyrion Lannister, the only one among them that seemed genuinely pleased to see him as he immediately moved from the table to the drinks stand behind them, fixing him a goblet of wine.

Despite her advisors, Daenerys shared Tyrion's reaction to him, a smile growing on her face, epcially when he bowed his head to her. She didn't catch how the gesture felt odd and alien, not since even he didn't realise until he was doing it that he felt as if he was paying reverence to the wrong person. He kept his head low as he scowled to himself, willing himself to remember who he had been four days previous. Daenerys didn't notice, not as she smiled and beckoned him to the table to join them, and though he felt his knee sing with the desperation to sit down, he forced himself to take his place at her side. It took more strength than he realised... strength and wine, as the goblet Tyrion slid towards him was empty before he even realised he was drinking it.