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

Chapter Five: Awaiting Arrival

The morning of the arrival of the Tyrells, Eddmina was up early and out in the yard by the archery targets.

What she'd said to Theon all those weeks ago was no bluff, Eddmina really was one of the best archers in Winterfell. From the first time she'd ran out of her lesson with the septa after getting tired of her badgering her for her wonky stitches at the age of seven, Eddmina had always run out to the targets to shoot. It helped clear her mind, and sometimes when she was bored or had nothing else to do, she would practice shooting, and eventually, she got good at it, to the point where even her father told her he was proud of her ability.

Eddmina liked to shoot to clear her head, and that was just what she needed that morning, the morning she knew that things really were going to change around Winterfell. The Tyrells were due to arrive in Winterfell in a few hours, a fact that Eddmina couldn't escape from. She knew when they got there she would have to act like a real lady, and not one who also enjoyed sparring with swords and shooting arrows. Shooting arrows, however, was the perfect way to clear her head, and try to stop herself from panicking over the impending situation.

She was unsure over how long she'd been out there, but it must have been at least an hour before she heard footsteps behind her. Though her focus had been disturbed, Eddmina shot her arrow before spinning around, only to be met by her mother, watching her almost disappointedly. Of course Lady Catelyn loved her daughter and her nature, but over the years Eddmina had noticed the way her mother sighed whenever she mentioned swords or weaponry. It wasn't typically ladylike, but Catelyn knew her eldest daughter was far too headstrong and wilful to listen to a command to stop, not to mention Ned pointed out the fact that she still took lessons with the septa and was otherwise a perfect lady.

'My sister was the same,' Ned had told her, regarding their daughter's nature. 'Edda is of the North, just like my sister was.'

Catelyn often wondered if it was Eddmina's resemblance and similarities to his sister Lyanna that made him so fond of her. Their children all seemed to favour her in looks, whilst their eldest daughter only had the Tully blue eyes, every other part of her obviously northern, even the accent that most ladies were taught to discard. Physically, there was very little of Catelyn in her daughter, but mentally, she knew that Eddmina believed in the Tully words very strongly, otherwise she would have protested to the Tyrell visit more.

"What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Catelyn questioned, to which Eddmina merely rolled her eyes.

"The Tyrells aren't even here yet but somehow they're still dictating what I should be doing," Eddmina commented, not meeting her mother's eye as she gathered her arrows back together, putting her bow back neatly.

"I don't think they are as bad as you think they will be," Catelyn sighed, knowing how Eddmina will have been overthinking the entire situation. "I can remember being terrified of the Starks when my betrothal was first proposed, and look how well it worked out,"

"Optimism and wishful thinking are for children," she shrugged slightly, raising one of her eyebrows, her stubbornness and pessimism meaning she refused to accept her mother's simple view of the matter at hand. "Starks were once kings, of course you were afraid. I'm not afraid of the Tyrells, I know marriage is my duty. It doesn't mean I have to like it or give up who I am,"

Eddmina glanced over to her mother with a small sigh before walking over to her and engulfing her into a tight hug. She knew her words made her sound angry and bitter, or at least she knew that was how her mother would interpret them, but in all honesty she had accepted it, she knew it was inescapable. She knew she was luckier than most since she at least got to meet her future husband before the wedding, and even though she hadn't flowered yet she still had the opportunity to meet the man she was expected to spend the rest of her life with. She'd accepted the possibility of a betrothal, but she'd not accepted the loss of her identity that could come with it.