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

Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen: Bastards and Friends

Willas spent the next couple of weeks drafting letters home.

The days were spent in council meetings, watching as Eddmina and Daenerys looked each other in the eye more than before, seeing the beginnings of trust forging over the ice and fire they had offered each other previously. The evenings were spent with his family, his brother and sister who made him feel like they were not on the brink of another war, his children who reminded him just how important another war was. The nights were spent indulging in whatever passions he found with Eddmina, kissing her, making love to her as slow or as fast as she wanted that night, holding her close as if the world could take her away again at any moment, studying her face and every expression she made in case she ever became just a memory again.

The moment she fell asleep, though, he would sneak out of bed to the desk, and begin writing. He had hidden his drafted letters in a large book all about currencies of the free cities, a tome so dull only he found interesting - it was covered in enough dust when he had found it in the library that he knew no one had found it interesting but him for at least a hundred years. As Eddmina slept, curled up on her side, he cursed silently for hours about just how he would tell his brother via letter that he was handing all his inheritance over to him.

To tell ones brother who had grown up a spare that he was abdicating all powers that had been promised and forced onto him for all his life was not pleasant, nor were the implications that he had not thought of when coming to his initial decision. If he stepped down to become a northern consort, what did that mean for Uther? Was he no longer heir to Highgarden? Would he become Eddmina's heir to the Northern throne instead, a future King in the North? What would happen to Garlan and Leonette's unborn child, once destined to be a Tyrell cousin of little political significance, quickly changed into the most important child in the whole Reach overnight?

"Papa," a small voice called one night, making Willas jump and slide the letter away just in time to feel a small pair of hands wrap around his waist.

"You're meant to be in bed, lad," Willas chided gently, his voice as quiet as possible as he glanced to Eddmina, still sleeping peacefully. "You're meant to be sleeping."

"Can't," he shrugged, his curls bouncing slightly as he shook his head. "Scary dream."

Willas would have loved to tell his teary-eyed son that dreams were nothing to be scared of, but one glance to his wife as her brow furrowed in her sleep made the words die in his throat. Instead he shut the letters away inside the book and heaved Uther up onto his lap, remembering all the nights in Highgarden where it was just the two of them, remembering all the times he was alone in parenting. He'd silently assumed that the moment Eddmina came back into their lives he'd be forgotten by Uther in favour of his mother, but that had been a foolish worry, especially as he felt Uther shift around so he could hug him properly.

"Do you want to come into our bed?" Willas offered, glancing behind him to where Eddmina was curled up as he gently ran his fingers through Uther's messy hair. "Come on, son, let's-"

"Papa, what's a bastard?" Uther asked bluntly, pulling away to look up at him properly. He blinked up at him with his tired green eyes, and Willas had to try his best not to choke at the question. Uther took his hesitancy and surprise as ignorance as he added, "Do you not know?"

"Of course I do, I just wasn't expecting the question," Willas corrected himself, clearing his throat. "A bastard is someone who's born not out of marriage. Their parents are not officially joined together by the gods."

"Are they bad?" Uther asked, his wide eyes narrowing into a frown.

"They're just people, they can be good and bad like everyone else," Willas explained, before he too frowned. "Where did you hear about bastards?"