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

Chapter Forty Three: Words of War

"Do you know why I have to go, when there's a deserter?" her father asked quietly, looking up from his sword, though his eyes didn't meet hers, instead fixing on the great weirwood in front of them both.

"It's the right thing to do," Eddmina answered, staring at the great sword in his lap. Ice shone in the cold afternoon light, not a shadow of blood left over from the gory ordeal of that morning. "You never really want to kill the men though, do you?"

It was a stupid question, she wasn't even sure why she asked it, but this was her father. Eddmina knew she could ask Ned Stark anything, absolutely anything in the world, and he would always answer her truthfully, unless he didn't know the answer, in which he would answer as best he could. He glanced over at her for a moment before he set aside the sword, gesturing for her to come closer. She had been previously sat on the log next to his, but soon got up and sat next to him as he shuffled over to give them both enough room. As soon as she was sat down he pulled her close, his arm around her shoulder, his cloak draping over her back. She felt very safe with him.

"I don't enjoy killing them, no, nor do I ever really want to," he said, and part of her felt guilty, knowing by that tone he was using he was thinking about the war. "But I made a vow, to the King and to the North, and it has to be me, otherwise it becomes meaningless if I allow someone else to do my duty. Sometimes there are things we truly don't want to do, things that make us want to run or hide, but our duties are ours to face, and it is facing them that makes us honourable."

"Do you really care so much about honour that you would put yourself through something that you really hate?" Eddmina asked after a moment of silence, and she was unsure as to whether she was asking for him, or for her. She couldn't help but think of everything that was expected of her in life, things like betrothals and marriage, but perhaps her father would understand better than anyone.

"Yes," he nodded, his hand on her shoulder tightening briefly. "It's moments like that which really show who we are."

They sat in silence for a moment, Ned looking at the tree, Eddmina looking at the floor. She couldn't bear to look at the weirwood, not if it was meant to represent the gods. How could she look at the gods when she felt so ashamed of herself. She had been so tempted to run away, leaving nothing but a note of goodbye before she headed off on her own. She didn't know where she was going to go, the Wall wouldn't work, not if Uncle Benjen inevitably recognised her, and she couldn't go to the Riverlands either. She refused to go South, it seemed too warm and unnecessarily rich, so that only left the East. The East would be equally warm, but no one would know her there. She could go and build her own life, where she didn't have to be nagged by the Septa to be someone she wasn't, where she didn't have to see her mother's disappointed gaze, where she didn't have to watch her brothers thrive in everything she wanted to do or be a guide to her sisters. She could be herself in the east, she could find out who herself actually was, but by removing herself away from situations where she would have to do things she hated she was being dishonourable. What did that make her, then? A coward? A stupid, selfish child?

"Father," she began quietly, contemplating telling him everything, even the part about the satchel of emergency supplies she kept stored under her bed, waiting for the moment she was ready to leave. She decided against it, not wanting to see disappointment in him; that would make two disappointed parents. "I don't know who I am."

"Edda, you're four-and-ten," he began, sounding a little surprised with a small laugh, but he soon realised that perhaps this had been something bothering her for a long time.

"I don't think that really matters," she shrugged, unable to meet his eye. "Septa told me I act half my age whenever I open my mouth to speak."

"Have you been cursing again?" he asked seriously, but both of them knew he was only pretending. As her father he did, after all, have to feign being on the Septa's side and be disciplinary.