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

Chapter Fifty Two: Baratheons and Lannisters

"When you asked me to supper I thought you meant just the two of us," Willas hissed to Margaery as soon as he entered the grand feasting tent, twice the size of any tent hosted in Robb's camp.

Margaery did not answer him, instead offering him a smile as she squeezed his arm supportively, making sure to lead him into the tent as if afraid he would turn and walk straight out. Part of him considered it when he saw his father, already sat down at the dinner table talking to Renly. Margaery must have felt him tense at the sight of his father, as she clutched his arm tighter. That didn't stop him clenching his jaw as he took a few deep breaths, trying not to remember just how badly his last meeting with his father had gone.

Loras was also there, sat next to their father, though he was not looking at either of the men, not even Renly for once. He was looking to his eldest brother, noticing the tell tale signs that all was not well between the Lord of Highgarden and his heir, having been present for plenty of past disagreements that made spotting them easy. Willas didn't say anything, he didn't even properly look at his brother out of pure habit, knowing he usually ended up siding with their father no matter what the case was. Yet, in not looking at Loras, Willas instead noticed the other man sat at the table. The stranger was barely a man as he looked to be a similar age of his wife's sister Sansa, baring a striking resemblance to the late King, had Robert not succumbed to alcohol and large portions.

Willas didn't get long to look at the stranger as he felt Margaery tug at his arm once more, and when he turned to his sister, he saw her looking at him the way she had done as a child when she wanted to borrow his horse, of if he had caught her in the wine cellars, or if she wanted him to keep a secret for her from their parents. Margaery might've been the only girl in the Tyrell family, but she knew how to wrap her brothers around her little finger. Even if Willas knew what she was doing, it didn't get rid of the inevitable devotion he felt for her.

"I know you argued with father earlier, but please," she spoke softly, making sure that the table wouldn't hear. "Please try and get on tonight."

"Margie, when have you ever known me to be the problem?" he laughed, rolling his eyes.

"Plenty of times, shall I list them?" Margaery raised her eyebrow, offering him the signature Tyrell smirk. Willas sighed, and she prodded his arm.

"If you had heard the things he'd said, the insults he threw at my wife, you would not be saying that," Willas told her, his voice a hissed whisper.

"I'm sure I can imagine them," Margaery said, her smile sad for a moment as she looked at him with sympathy before she regained herself. "I didn't intend on this, I did just want supper to be the two of us, but His Grace thought it would be a good opportunity for us to all meet, build some bridges? We are all family, after all."

If even Renly knew that some sort of argument had occurred in the short space of time since Willas' arrival to camp, Willas couldn't help but feel a little humiliated. He'd travelled there to build bridges himself, to help build an alliance that could help Eddmina and Robb, yet so far he had done nothing but cause unrest. He knew it wasn't entirely his fault, but he also knew it was making things difficult for his sister, so as much as he didn't want to, he offered her a smile, and let her lead him to the table, ignoring her pleased smirk.

"Evening, all," he said, feeling them all staring at him. He bowed his head respectfully to Renly, before offering his father a nod. Lord Tyrell looked surprised to have been acknowledged at all.

"You sounded frightfully northern then," Renly laughed, and Willas couldn't help but feel amused, especially when he saw his father grimace. "Perhaps it has rubbed off on you, all those months up there."