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

Chapter Eleven: Departure

Eddmina's trunk ended up only being half full. Her whole life, to move to the other side of the country, only amounted to half a trunk. It was quite a sad thought, but in reality it was not the material things she cared about. Her whole life was Winterfell and her family, and those were things one simply couldn't pack into a trunk.

Packing had therefore been quick. She had very few dresses suitable for High Garden, where the weather was apparently warmer than she could even imagine. She would have no use for her thick woolen dresses and cloaks that she had spent so long in sewing, and the prospect of having to sew a whole new wardrobe whilst on the way to the Reach seemed to exhaust her just thinking about it, not that it was something she could avoid. There was no jewellery to pack either, since the only piece she ever wore was a little silver thumb ring, so the only things really in the trunk were enough clothes to last her until they got out of the north and books. She wanted to take a bow with her too, and possibly some arrows, but she daren't ask her mother for such a thing, not when her nerves were at an end.

She'd packed alone, denying anyone's help. She even sent Jon and Robb away, deciding that if they were around her for too long the night before she had to leave she would not want to leave at all. If she cut herself off from everyone, surely it would make it easier to leave them all behind. She didn't even want to say goodbye to anyone, but for her and the Tyrell party to leave without being seen off properly was unlikely, and so she knew she would have to brace herself.

She slept very little that night, tossing and turning. The maester had left her a small vial of poppy's milk on her bedside cupboard in case the cramps she'd been suffering all day with got any worse, so she drank it down in the hope that it would help her sleep, but if anything it just dulled her senses, leaving her in a state caught in between sleep and consciousness. The poppy's milk left her head swimming, her mind drifting from one thing to another, mellowing her to the point that she couldn't make any coherent thoughts. Usually she'd hate that, to not be in complete control of herself and her mind, but for once it was rather peaceful, and she found herself unable to even think about the worries that had plagued her all day. She finally drifted off to sleep just as the sun was coming up, giving her only around an hour of sleep before she had to get up.

Part of her didn't want to get up. By the time the sun had risen the poppy had worn off and Eddmina was filled with nerves once more. She wanted to hide underneath her sheets and never surface, but still she pulled herself from her bed, reminding herself that she was being selfish to her family and its opportunity of a solid southern alliance by being so scared. She didn't have to like what was happening, but it was still her duty and she would face it honourably. As if in a trance, she went through the motions of dressing in a deep grey riding gown, the one she had embroidered snowflakes onto the collar, pairing it with her old riding boots and a cloak. Just as she was tying her hair off into a tight braid, looping it round into a bun, there was a knock at the door.

Without waiting for her permission, Theon walked in, looking rather awkward as he avoided eye contact with her. It was the first time he'd been in her room in nearly a month, and as soon as she saw him in the doorway a flood of memories came rushing to her, except for the first time in a long time they were not accompanied by feelings of endearment. She finished her hair and turned to him, forcing a small smile onto her face.

"Your mother asked me to get your trunk for you," he told her, glancing up at her for a moment.

"It's not heavy I could carry it myself," she suggested, because as fine as she felt, she could tell he was hurting just being around her so she wanted to just get rid of him as soon as possible.

"Are you sure your Tyrell would want to see his future lady carrying her own things?" he muttered, crossing the room to where she'd left her trunk.