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

Chapter Fifty Four: Alliance

Willas hadn't realised how good he had gotten at helping people cope with grief until he spent every waking hour with his little brother following the death of King Renly.

Good was perhaps the wrong word, as it suggested it was something he enjoyed doing. No, it was something he had become desensitised to. It was something he'd gotten extensive practice in doing, and it was something Willas saw as his duty. It was his job to sit by his wife's side, wipe away her tears, listen to her thoughts and worries, and hold her when nothing else would suffice, and it became his job to do the same for Loras. Nothing could bring the dead back, the living merely had to learn to cope. That had been the case for Eddmina as she mourned her father, and it was the case for Loras as he mourned Renly.

There was a difference though, as he didn't feel as helpless and despairing with Eddmina as he did with Loras. It was agony, seeing his little brother go through so much, especially as his emotions had to stay hidden for the most part. Eddmina was allowed to grieve her father in public, and even if she did not allow herself to show the world her tears and pain, she at least had the option and the freedom to let those around her see. Loras did not have that luxury. Loras had to hide, and his grief had to remain undercover, just like his love for the man he'd lost. Only the Tyrells could see, and Willas was glad Margaery was there with him, knowing he and Loras both would not survive without their little sister.

The truth of Renly Baratheon's death was up for debate. The only witnesses had been Brienne of Tarth, the female warrior who had beaten Loras in the tourney that Renly named part of his Kingsguard, and Lady Stark. Both women had fled shortly after Renly's death, his body found by guards who swore the women had something to do with it. Willas knew his wife's mother was not capable of murder, nor was she stupid enough to think killing Renly a good idea when their cause relied so heavily upon an alliance, but she had fled the camp with most of the northern guard who had escorted them, and so she was not available to vouch for herself, or the truth.

Willas didn't really care about the truth. He cared that Renly was dead, both for his brother, and for his goodbrother's cause, and he cared that Lady Stark had left. Her sudden departure had left him in the Stormlands with a depleted guard, and a bitter sense of betrayal. Whatever had happened in Renly's tent the night of his murder was awful enough for her to have left so quickly, yet he knew that if it had been him who'd witnessed it, he would not have dreamed of leaving her behind. He didn't even know if she was alive, all he could do was assume that she was making her way back to Robb's camp, and hope that she would not be ambushed on the way. He assumed her leaving him behind was not personal, but it was a difficult thought to ignore. There was not much time for thinking of her, not as Loras took most of Willas' focus, and he knew that thinking of her was a waste of time, since she had clearly not thought of him.

Every so often though, Willas' mind wondered onto what Eddmina's reaction would be to her mother returning to their camp without him. Would she panic? Would she be angry? Would she think he was dead? He couldn't stomach that thought, knowing he'd upset her and make her worry when she already had so much to deal with, when the entire situation was out of his control. If it was up to him he would have never left her side, or he would be at least back with her, holding her as they slept, taking her hand as she worked late into the night, attempting to make her smile when he knew she had been frowning for too long. He missed her, and the thought of her mother getting back to her sooner than he would made him almost jealous.

Even so, he couldn't leave. How could he, knowing the situation he would leave behind him with his own blood family?

"Eat, brother," Willas insisted on the third morning after Renly's death, pushing the plate closer to Loras. It was nothing but bread and cheese, yet Loras glared down at it as if it was the most detestable thing imaginable. "You have to eat. Please, Loras."