Willas Tyrell

[margy-tyrell]

There goes my hero, he's ordinary || Margaery & Willas || 22nd June 2000 [Flashback]

[margy-tyrell]

Margaery spotted the tears before they appeared in his eyes. She spotted them in the way that he wouldn’t look at her, and the way that he started to fiddle with the edge of the duvet. As soon as the tears appeared Margaery jumped up from her seat without a second thought to the wires and machines and drips that she might knock out of place. All that mattered was Willas.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight. Rubbing a hand over the fabric of the t shirt he wore she shushed him. “It’s going to be OK.” She said quietly certain that he had been holding it together for everyone else. Squeezing as tightly as she could she hid her frown from him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “It takes more than a Martell and a polo pony to keep a Tyrell down. You should know that.”

[cfo-willas-blog]

A distant part of Willas felt guilty for... letting his weakness show.

A more clamorous part of Willas's mind was grateful for the chance to finally admit weakness.

At some point- soon after she hugged him- he realized just how much Margaery had grown up recently. She was far from an adult, but she was capable of hearing about difficult things. Capable of understanding them. Somehow, Willas was soothed by the revelation that Margaery would, undoubtedly, turn out well.

So he allowed himself to be weak for several seconds, and that was more than Willas gave to most people. He didn't cry much, but he did cling to the hug.

"Hey," he said, in a teasing voice. "Oberyn Martell is surprisingly nice. He helped pay for my medical expenses."

[margy-tyrell]

There goes my hero, he's ordinary || Margaery & Willas || 22nd June 2000 [Flashback]

[margy-tyrell]

Probably.

 How could such a small, innocent word be so cruel? This was Willas, of course he’d walk again. He was her big brother, the biggest of her big brothers. Willas was the one who always knew exactly the right thing to do or say to calm her down, whether she was mid tantrum or in floods of tears. One of her earliest memories was Willas lifting her high and spinning her around until she squealed in delight. He’d not done it for years but she suddenly wished he could now. Giving in and chewing down on her lip Margaery met Willas’ eye, “But you’ll be fine?” It was a question, not a statement. The Tyrells were powerful, Margaery had known that as long as she could remember, their power was only exceeded by their wealth. And with power and money came your own way. “I mean, Dad can make sure that this gets fixed?”

[cfo-willas-blog]

He smiled, somewhat halfheartedly (and trying to to hide said half-hardheartedness.)

Because what Margaery implied was true. Yes, Willas was feeling dejected right now. However, things would be so much worse without his family's assistance. (And his family's money, truth be told.)

Oddly enough, that revelation about his good luck to be a Tyrell... well. Somehow that struck a nerve. Unexpectedly, his eyes burned and Willas- rarely a coward, rarely one to avoid the truth- could not meet Margaery's gaze.

"I'm definitely going to be heeled to the best of modern science's ability," he said. "But... Well." His voice faltered, and only now did he realize how close to tears he had come. And only now did he realize how little he cared if Maegaery realized it.

[cfo-willas-blog]

{ooc; hiatus}

okay I THINK i'm caught up on all of WIllas and Aegon's threads. I have to go on hiatus for a bit (i'm completely swamped at work) but I should be back by sunday or monday.

[margy-tyrell]

There goes my hero, he's ordinary || Margaery & Willas || 22nd June 2000 [Flashback]

[margy-tyrell]

Chewing on her lip her eyes flicked back up to Willas’ face and a smile fluttered briefly across her face before an air of seriousness returned to the room. “Grandmother always told him not to.” She said with a frown. Margaery had always been closer to Olenna than either of her parents, not that she didn’t adore Alerie and Mace but Olenna had always been more available. Be it with a hug, a new doll or a cup of tea and a word of advice. Margaery had been raised around her grandmother’s skirts and she treated the older woman as some sort of Messiah.

He patted her on the head and her brow furrowed. She was not a little girl anymore, as much as any of them wanted her to be. She saw much and understood more than they would ever approve of. Mirroring Olenna she set her shoulders back and leant away from Willas despite her desire to curl up on the bed beside him.  “What happens now?” She asked, the unspoken question hanging in the air between them. Will the joint fix? Will he walk again? Resisting the urge to chew on her lip she sat up regally.

[cfo-willas-blog]

Yes, Willas caught the furrow in her bro. (He caught nearly everything, especially nowadays when there was little else occupying his mind.)

However he couldn't quite read that expression. And as she drew her shoulders back, it was like a wall had gone up between them. There was nothing cruel about her demeanor, but it would seem she was trying to assert her maturity. Some small part of Willas wanted to tell her to knock it, to not grow up so fast. But this trepidation might be a result of everything changing so quickly nowadays.

"What happens now.." He bites down on his lip. His shoulders shake, in an infinitesimal amount. "I stay here until we know whether I can walk again or not." A pause. "They think I'll probably be able to walk again..."

But there will probably be permanent damage and nothing will be the same.

Speaking it aloud was proving to be difficult.

[margy-tyrell]

There goes my hero, he's ordinary || Margaery & Willas || 22nd June 2000 [Flashback]

[margy-tyrell]

One side of her mouth tugged up in a small smile, “Mother always did warn you about playing Polo so vigorously.” She teased hoping to put him a bit more at ease. He was so obviously tense, his shoulders hunched and tight, his brow furrowed and his hair mused. Hearing the name Margaery filed it away, she was aware of Oberyn Martell. He was often photographed with some skinny young model dripping from his arm, and she had thought that he was one of Willas’ friends?

Margaery leant towards her brother wanting to feel his arm around her shoulders but she had to be strong, had to grow up. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. Sitting up she looked down at his knee as he flourished down towards it, “Does it hurt?” She asked biting down on her lip allowing herself one last childish moment.

[cfo-willas-blog]

Willas learned into his sister's touch.

"Yeah, and father always complained I never played vigorously enough." Willas smiled a bit at Margaery.

He was making light of it, but it was true. He didn't believe he was overly influenced by his father- Willas liked to think he was more independent by that- but the other family members had heard Mace's suggestions over the years. And, when they thought he was sleeping, he believed he'd heard relatives scolding Mace for encouraging Willas to be reckless. That had been frustrating.

Margaery was currently staring at his knee as though she could cure it by looking at it long enough.

Willas noted the way she was biting her lip, and patted her on the head. "It hurt a lot worse before they gave me medication for it."

[ink-and-cigarettes-blog]

When The Moon Hits Your Eye Like a Big Pizza Pie | Renly, Willas and Loras | September 1st

[ink-and-cigarettes-blog]

 Renly’s sudden serious made Loras quirk a brow, the way he was talking and how he was holding his hand a strange change. He sort of felt like he was in an afterschool special. He knew Renly wanted happiness for him— it wasn’t something that needed to be stated, especially right now. Flashing Renly a confused smile, he squeezed his hand back.

 His attention, however, was soon back on Willas, his reply catching Loras off guard. Any… men? Loras did not know much about Willas’ love life, nor his inclinations (after all, Willas was his older brother, and the thought of his brother actually having sex was so bizarre, Loras’ mind actually shut off whenever he came close to even thinking about it), but he’d always just assumed his brother was heterosexual. Was he kidding about the bloke thing?

 ”Fancy anyone?” he asked, ignoring Renly’s praises of him again, but still squeezing his hand gently. While Loras loved Renly doting on him, he felt a bit self-conscious about displaying affection in front of his elder brother. Were he in Willas’ position, he’d be pretending to wretch over the side of the couch. But Loras was also twelve. “I mean, not that I’m trying to nose like mum would, but… you know. You need some stress relief, mate.”

[cfo-willas-blog]

Things were taking a turn to the stilted and Willas was rather anxious about that basic fact. His offhand- and probably ill-advised- comment about being with men, though... That was worth it for way Loras looked at him in surprise. Willas's amusement partially derived from typical amusement at baffling a sibling, and a more specific enjoyment knowing that his family didn't know everything about him.

In light of that, he just raised a shoulder and didn't elaborate on his earlier comment.

"No, can't say I fancy anyone right now." He almost laughed at how he had probably turned this into a conversation worthy of a girl's sleepover. And then he definitely laughed at the comment about stress relief. "Yeah, I feel like times are only going to get more stressful, huh? Not to get pessimistic or anything."

[margy-tyrell]

There goes my hero, he's ordinary || Margaery & Willas || 22nd June 2000 [Flashback]

[margy-tyrell]

She smiled up at Willas recognising so much of herself in him. Margaery hated to admit when she was wrong, or hurting or unsure and that was exactly what he was doing now. She hoped that was all it was because Willas was the one person who always treated her like the adult she so craved to be. Well, the most like the adult she wanted to be.

“I didn’t ask that.” She said squeezing his hand a fraction of the worry that had churned her stomach since she had been told showing on her face. She quickly checked it and righted her features, imagining how her Grandmothers face would look right now. “What actually happened?” Chewing on her lip she continued, “I know that you were playing Polo and that’s all.”

[cfo-willas-blog]

There Margaery went, making the preternaturally understanding face.

Or maybe Willas just wanted to talk to someone.

However, it wasn't as easy as just letting go and confessing any of the worries that kept him awake nowadays. (When it wasn't pain that kept him from sleep, of course.) After all, if it was that simple, he would be far less reticent. As it stood the act of confiding was also an act that admitted to weakness. And that was never good, in his opinion.

When Margaery's features set into an overly serious expression, Willas almost smiled. His sister was definitely trying to coax information out of him.

"Yes, I was playing polo against Oberyn Martell..." His parents had been angry at Oberyn, but Willas had had to talk them out of trying to press charges or any such thing. "And I might have been a bit too reckless. The horse fell and..." He swept out his hand, indicating the hospital room. "Here I am."

[margy-tyrell]

There goes my hero, he's ordinary || Margaery & Willas || 22nd June 2000 [Flashback]

[margy-tyrell]

Stepping into the room her hazel eyes rested on Willas’ leg, immobilised on the bed doubtless to aid his recovery. Wrapping an arm across her middle she looked back up at his face and the faint trace of a grimace was still there. He was wearing the face that he put on around everyone else, the one that sometimes slipped when he thought people weren’t looking. The one that Margaery never missed.

Walking over to the side of his bed she leant over him carefully, conscious not to knock any of the wires or machinery. Wrapping her arms around him gently she breathed in the familiar scent of Highgarden, all flowers and grass and the gentle undercurrent of horse. He had come straight from the polo field. Pulling back she held him by the shoulders, “Its going to be OK, Willas.” He would try to wave her away, baby her like the rest of them but Willas knew better than any of the others that she wasn’t a baby anymore. She didn’t need protecting from the realities, and she wouldn’t let Willas fool himself either. Life was going to change for them all now. Sitting in the seat at the side of his bed she kept one hand in his, her long elegant fingers entwined with his. “What happened?” She asked.

[cfo-willas-blog]

She was right, naturally. Willas could have easily died today, and yet he was still alive. That was something. That was everything, really.

The look she gave him was an expression she was growing into. It said don't worry, I can handle hearing almost anything. And Willas could believe it. He'd seen her be calm- like the eye of a storm, to be honest- when everyone else was falling to pieces around them all.

It was probably a trait they both shared, although time might show that Margaery was even more stoic than Willas.

Therefore, Willas had no especial urge to coddle or protect her. If anything, he worried that her inner strength would force her to grow up too soon. There would be time enough for her to shoulder the family's various struggles. For now, there was a kind of luxury in treating her like a child.

(Willas ignored the small voice in the back of his skull that was telling him that maybe, just maybe, he was afraid to speak certain truths out loud. Maybe he was afraid he'd speak them into being.)

"Oh, it's not... not so bad. I mean, I could have injured my spine completely. But the doctors just say my right leg might not move as easily. So it could be worse."

[gtyrell-blog]

TEXT: Willas Tyrell (Sept 8th 2012)

Message: SOS. Marg and Renly coming over to talk about Loras. Probably going to hit him. Need back-up.

[cfo-willas-blog]

Message: I’m on my way.

[gtyrell-blog]

Message: Might have had some wine. I’m going to offer him a drink.

[cfo-willas-blog]

Message: Haha. Let me know how it goes

[gtyrell-blog]

TEXT: Willas Tyrell (Sept 8th 2012)

Message: SOS. Marg and Renly coming over to talk about Loras. Probably going to hit him. Need back-up.

[cfo-willas-blog]

Message: I'm on my way.

[margy-tyrell]

An Iron Fist in a Velvet Glove || Margaery, Willas and Garlan || 21st August [Post Melisandre Meeting]

[margy-tyrell]

Of all her siblings Garlan was the one who could enflame Margaerys temper with a single look. How dare he? How fucking dare he just dismiss her like she was nothing? Her features hardened as his words washed over her and her voice dropped in both volume and tone. “Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here, Garlan.”

Shaking her head she let out a bitter laugh devoid of any humour, “How long have you even been back in the country?” She asked derisively, her feet walking around the desk towards the front standing facing her elder brother. “It takes more than a new name plaque to make you CEO, Garlan!”

Willas’ quiet words were enough to shame Margaery into silence her eyes dropping down to stare at the grain of the desk in front of her. She suddenly felt vindicated at Willas’ words to Garlan, and before she could even smile she felt equally admonished. Looking across at Willas she gave a short nod, “Would I ever do anything else?” She asked with a small smile (the one she saved just for Willas).

[gtyrell-blog]

Garlan’s jaw hardened at her words and he could have hit her then, he imagined himself doing it, jut pulling his hand back and slapping her across the face, and in his mind it gave him great relief. His hand curled into a fist in his lap and his eyes danced between the two of them—this was particularly difficult for him, Willas was his brother first, his go-to, his best friend, and here he was having that same relationship with Margaery, it was childish beyond belief, and Garlan knew that, but he couldn’t help but feel that stab of jealousy. 

He did not believe that she would keep her mouth shut, not for one second, he was expecting her to leave and expecting a phone call less than five minutes later from an angry Loras. 

Garlan wanted to get out of the room, he could feel it crushing around him, but he had no excuse, no real reason to leave.

I hate you all.

He wanted to say, wanted to shout, even if it wasn’t true. He never knew why they had bothered with him at all the past month, nobody listened.

‘You’d blurt it out.’

He pointed out.

[cfo-willas-blog]

"Please stop baiting each other..." He murmured.

And earlier they laughed off my instructions to be civil.

It really did hurt to see his siblings so at odds.

We have the same blood, he wanted to shout. We should be better than this.

That wasn't true, of course. Being related did not automatically make for a good relationship. Far from it. But he was old enough to remember when they were all young and had gotten along. (Although maybe that's what he had wanted to see.)

All at once the walls felt claustrophobic and he wanted out. He didn't want to give up, exactly, but he did want to retreat for the moment. To think things over in peace, and take action if he must.

He picked up his phone as if noticing a text message.

"I have a doctor's appointment in half an hour, and my phone just reminded me of it." It was a blatant lie, of course, but Willas was a good liar. And everyone maintained respectful distance when it came to the on-going treatment of Willas's leg. "So, perhaps we should break for now, calm down, and try this discussion later?"

[ink-and-cigarettes-blog]

When The Moon Hits Your Eye Like a Big Pizza Pie | Renly, Willas and Loras | September 1st

[ink-and-cigarettes-blog]

 Loras saw the tension in Renly’s smile, but was grateful that he shrugged it away in front of his brother. No need to drag Willas into all of this, especially when this was Renly and Willas’ first ‘official’ time together. He wanted Willas to have fun and see Renly as someone who was good for Loras. He already had enough trouble making Garlan like his husband, he didn’t need to brothers being knob-heads. Not that Willas was ever a knob-head. In fact, Loras found it hard to think back to any time in which Willas was less than incredible.

 His teasing, however… Rolling his eyes, Loras ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the couch. “Oh gods, I never really thought about what would happen to me if Renly was elected. Like, is that a full time gig? Do other spouses just… not do anything other than look dapper in the background of photos?”

 He tried to think of other male spouses of world leaders, and his first thought was toward Joachim Sauer. Would he have had to have… dinned with the man? Was there a secret club of world leader spouses? He was positive if there was he would not have fit in. He was young and gay and had a tendency to sneer at others without even knowing it. His Gran had tried to train it out of him growing up, but it had been a struggle to get rid of the distaste on his face when he was presented with something (or someone) he really did not like.

 He realized he’d been day dreaming about tea with the husband of the German chancellor, and the tea water had begun to squeal away in the kitchen. Hopping off the couch leg, he prepared the tea for everyone before coming in with all three, balancing them in his hands and against his chest awkwardly. Arriving without a single spill, he put them down on the coffee table and passed the drinks out. hoping he got the right amount of sugar and cream in Willas’ tea.

 He didn’t care about Renly’s. He’d drink whatever Loras gave him.

 ”So, Willas, how have things been? Anything incredibly interesting happen? Find a lady yet?”

[cfo-willas-blog]

Willas watched this back and forth with some trepidation. He had definitely wandered into sensitive territory, and he had no desire to inflame things further. Especially when he and Loras were finding their way back to common ground.

He had caught a hint of trepidation in his brother’s voice, and that was worrisome. But lately his policy was to trust his siblings, and try to let them figure things out on their own. If only because it gave them someone sympathetic to run to when they wanted to rail about the strictness of their father or their grandmother.

Anyway, they were supposed to be relaxing and having fun. And Willas was… acting a bit too much like an older brother.

“Sorry about the interrogation,” he said, trying to smile contritely. “I’m so used to questioning  people at work about how they plan to spend money that I forget I don’t have to do that to everyone I meet.” He took a sip of tea."No I haven't found any ladies." He smiled wryly. "Haven't found any men, either."

[gtyrell-blog]

Coming Home || Garlan & Willas [FLASHBACK] 2001

[gtyrell-blog]

He’d been afraid that nobody would turn up. A smile came to his lips and he nodded his head, the only luggage he had to claim was the military bag he’d left where he’d been stood just moments ago. His heart was racing in his chest and the relief that had flooded him before was now replaces with worry, what if they hadn’t missed him all that much? Margaery and Loras had only been young, they’d be teenagers now, he didn’t think he’d even know them anymore. He’s have to see Olenna, too. And avoid his father.

‘Did I miss anything interesting?’

He asked, shoving all thoughts aside,

‘How’s Loras? And everyone? How are you? Who’s the Prime Minister?’

There were a million questions he had to ask, and none of them, aside from the first three, he particularly cared about, it was as if he’d been away for an eternity, stuck on some isolate island.

[cfo-willas-blog]

Garlan rattled off a number of questions, as though he'd taken an involuntary vow of silence and just now had been allowed to speak. It made Willas want to hug him again.

It was easy enough to say who was Prime Minister. (Did they really not talk that much about politics where he was? Willas supposed that made sense.)

The questions about family were a bit more difficult to answer because they were so open ended. It would be easy to say too much, or not enough at all.

"Loras is... growing really tall. It's kind of annoying." Willas hadn't known how much associated age and maturity with height until the day when Loras was able to look him straight in the eye. (Margaery wasn't far behind.) "And the others are... I think they'll be glad to have you back. Mum would be happy for days whenever you got a chance to call. And Margaery and Loras would always ask me questions about what you're like."

Willas had no idea how to answer how he was doing. Physical therapy, physical therapy, and more physical therapy?

[margy-tyrell]

There goes my hero, he's ordinary || Margaery & Willas || 22nd June 2000 [Flashback]

Margaery had been asleep when she had been gently shaken awake by her house mistress, there had been news from home, an accident and someone was hurt. She was only a week away from finishing school for the summer but she had to return immediately. Margaery’s mind ran at a thousand miles an hour, it must be bad if they were dragging her out of bed at 5am? Or was that just because the driver her father had sent would be with them in an hour.

She washed and dressed in record time and was sat in the foyer waiting with a single bag backed when the car rolled up the gravel driveway. The school would send the rest of her things after her but right now she needed to get home, get to Willas. She felt a sob bubble up her throat as she pictured her big brother hooked up to machines, fighting for his life. Just as it threatened to surface Margaery remembered the whispered lessons from her grandmother and clamped it down. Later she would learn that her housemistress had raised concerns at how stoically she had taken the news and couldn’t help but smile. The journey had taken a few hours but she had been deposited at the other end and met by her mother. Clinging to her a little tighter than she normally would Margaerys head swam as she was given some solid information finally. Willas had been playing polo when his horse had tripped and landed awkwardly on his leg. He life wasn’t in any danger but his leg was very badly hurt, and he was in a lot of pain.

It was the first time that Margaery had been into a hospital. Sure, she’d been into A & E a few times (normally because Loras had done something stupid like climbing trees or playing football). But this wasn’t A & E, this was a ward. A ward was here you stayed when you were really hurt, and the thought of what she was about to see made her nervous.

Looking around it was much more plush than the dinghy NHS places Loras had been taken too (emergency care being unavailable on private health insurance) and Margaery wouldn’t have minded staying here herself. It didn’t smell the same as the grey NHS place either, less clinical more homely. There was still the beep of machinery, the quiet chatter of the doctors and nurses but it was quieter, calmer

Stopping outside the door to his room Margaery hesitated, not sure how she would cope with the image of her heroic brother laid up in pain. Chewing on her lip (a nervous tic her grandmothers lessons had yet to rid her of) she pushed the door open and called out quietly, “Willas?” before stepping into the quiet room.

[cfo-willas-blog]

A likely mobility impairment

The words sounded so clinical when spoken aloud, and sometimes their sheer ordinariness calmed him down. After all, enough people had been through the same that they had had to make up a term for it. He was not unique in his injury or the potential outcome.

Other times, like this one, his bravery faltered. He would try to move his right leg and it would barely budge.

It all depends on whether the bones heal properly.

The doctors also talked about extensive nerve damage, and how that would effect his knee.

In short, damage to a small fraction of his body... and his entire life would have to change a great deal.

He would be fine- Willas Tyrell was always fine- but sometimes... Sometimes it was a lot to think about when, just recently, it felt like his adulthood was just beginning.

When he heard a familiar voice, he sat up a bit to properly greet his sister.

"Hi, Margaery."

She was young, still, and he wouldn't push his doubts on her.

[margy-tyrell]

An Iron Fist in a Velvet Glove || Margaery, Willas and Garlan || 21st August [Post Melisandre Meeting]

[margy-tyrell]

Margaery physically bristled as Garlan pointed his finger and issued orders. “You’re not in the fucking army now, Garlan Tyrell!” She snapped, “You don’t get to order me around and expect utter obedience.” As she was about to take a step towards Garlan, her small hands clenched into tight fists Willas filled the space and Margaery was suddenly reminded that he was there. Normally her eldest brothers presence was a soothing balm over her hot temper but there was only so much provocation a girl could take.

Turning her gaze towards Willas she tried (and failed) to soften her features. “Idle threat or not he deserves to know!” Gritting her teeth she took what was supposed to be a calming breath through her nose, “He already thinks we treat him like a child!” She said waving her hands energetically, “He has been treated disgustingly by this company and I refuse to be a part of it!” She snapped glaring at Garlan from across Willas’ shoulder.

[gtyrell-blog]

‘And when one acts like a child they get treated like one.’

He said simply. And there she was still, eight years old and moaning about one thing or another, silver spoon in her mouth. There had always been this shameful, deep-rooted dislike for his siblings—there was, no doubt about it, much more of an undeniable love for the three of them—the way they had gotten away with murder, the way they had had everything at their fingertips while he was left to float along in their shadows. Naturally he had left as soon as he could.

‘I don’t care how he thinks he’s been treated by this company, not everything is about angel-child Loras’ fucking feelings, Margaery, or yours, or mine, or Willas’. With all the shit surrounding this company over the last year, half of which I probably haven’t been told about, I’m surprised any of us have a fucking tenner to our names. So if you’d be so kind to stop stamping your feet and do as I’m asking you, this will all be over a lot quicker and a lot easier.’

Garlan put his fingertips to his temple, his head suddenly pounding, pressure building up behind his eyes and forehead, and he sat himself down, hand moving to the back of his head to pull his hair from the ponytail, letting it fall, taking some strain off. 

‘Willas, tell her. Just tell her to wait. She only ever fucking listens to you, anyway.’

And this he grumbled as he sank himself down into a slump on the desk.

[cfo-willas-blog]

As always, the sound of yelling made Willas wince, inwardly. It was nothing he couldn't handle, but he often saw it as distraction at best. Damaging at worst.

All the same, he decided to let scream at each other for a while. Just shout themselves hoarse. And he prayed that it was cathartic.

His siblings' silence came on suddenly, like an alarm clock. It took him a second or two to process that Garlan was telling him to order Margaery around. While she was still in the room. This kind of triangulation was common enough in their family, though, and Willas always seemed to be at the epicenter.

"We're lucky the walls are mostly soundproof here," he said, at last. "Otherwise so many of the things we're talking about would become common knowledge because of this... conversation." Shouting match, more like. "Garlan..." He looked over at his slumped brother. "I can't just order Margaery to do anything. But Margaery..." He looked at her now. "If you do talk to Loras make sure it's on your own terms. Don't just blurt it out to him without all of the facts."

There he went, exercising caution again. Willas wondered what would happen if he told his siblings to go all out on their enemies. If that was destined to occur, he had a feeling that day was drawing closer.

[gtyrell-blog]

Coming Home || Garlan & Willas [FLASHBACK] 2001

[gtyrell-blog]

Garlan had told them he didn’t really want anybody there, but the voice that called out to him sent his heart up into his throat and he turned to find the source, eyes already wet with unshed tears—and tears that would not fall, either. His hands loosened on the straps of the bag slightly and he soon let his hands drop to his sides, hot-footing it to where Willas stood. He couldn’t help but throw his arms around his brother and cling to him, he’d been almost certain he’d never see him again, certain he’d never step foot on the ground again and, instead, come back in a box. He’d been terrified, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it all.

He held tight to Willas for what was probably a little longer than necessary and he reluctantly pulled away, looking at the other man with still-wet eyes. He felt like a little boy again, running to Willas for the attention and comfort that his father would not give him—there was always his mother, of course, but she had been livid with him for leaving in the first place, for school, for the army, he was always leaving them.

‘I’m glad you came.’

And he was undeniably glad, there was nothing he needed more, upon landing back in Blighty, than to see a familiar face, something homely to wash those memories away.

‘I hope you didn’t miss me too much.’

Garlan smiled but there was some kind of forlornness in his eyes, he was certain that he’d missed them all more, but he hadn’t written all that much, and he’d only called a couple of times, he’d tried to forget about them, just in case, just as they were sure to have done with him.

[cfo-willas-blog]

Willas saw the embrace coming a mile away. He stood his ground, braced for impact, and glad that Garlan was happy to see him. (It was an more than educated guess; Garlan could be standoffish, but almost never about Willas it seemed.)

The hug was a bit more effusive than Willas was accustomed to, at least from Garlan.

I can't imagine what you've been through.

A million questions fought for prominence in his head, and he wished they lived in a world where younger brothers didn't have to go to war.

"I had to be here," was all he said. He shrugged a bit, to make things seem less heavy. "And I hope you didn't miss us too much." He could return jokes just as easily. "Should we go get your luggage?"

[gtyrell-blog]

Coming Home || Garlan & Willas [FLASHBACK] 2001

Garlan had been away for three years, three long years since he’d knelt on the floor in the airport and crushed his younger brother and sister, crying, against himself, three long years since he’d held back his own tears and waited until he was on the plane, since he’d almost missed his flight, since he’d left everyone and everything he knew to fight a war he knew nothing about.

God, it was hard. He had known it would be hard, but he hadn’t expected the days upon days of just waiting, waiting and talking and making friends, laughing with men that soon became his brothers, and women, too, there were a couple there. What had been hardest was the first contact, the first call of “man down”, the first time he’d seen his friend shot dead. He could remember the first time he’d seen a man step on an IED, the way he’d covered himself, the way he’d cried and cried as they took the man away almost immediately, the more experienced men, they understood what it was like for him, he’d helped, of course. Later he’d gone back, carefully, and he saw the man’s boot floating, empty, in the small river, just an empty boot. He couldn’t remember anything that had haunted him quite as much.

But now he was home and he did not know what to expect. The entire flight he had been jittery, he’d torn up fifteen, maybe twenty, napkins, he’d been shaky and sick, nervous. Who would come to see him? Would Mace be there? Would Willas? Loras? Margaery? He didn’t want them all there, later, maybe later, not now, he didn’t want to see Mace, he didn’t want to see Loras, or Margaery, not yet. He just wanted his brother. He wanted calm, understanding Willas, for a few days he wanted Willas. But they were the Tyrells and he was very unsure on what they had planned.

After an hour’s nap, and nothing more, he found himself with the army bag on his back, feet back on solid ground, knuckles white on the straps and feeling every bit the child, heart in his stomach. And he went out, and he couldn’t see them anywhere.

[cfo-willas-blog]

When a sibling is in a warzone, well, the first few weeks tend to be rough. But because humans are not meant to be in fear constantly, Willas's fear for Garlan had diminished to a dull ache in the back of his mind. He had tensed at news reports, and couldn't bear violence in movies, but otherwise he tried to focus on other things.

However, when the news came that Garlan would be returning (Willas still wasn't sure how long) ... Well. There had been the most unsettling mix of relief and anxiety imaginable. That was also like something out of a movie; an announcement of a respite, the inevitable celebration, and then a tragic ironic accident. Willas would not be at peace until his little brother had come back.

But then the day of homecoming drew near, and Willas couldn't help but be there when Garlan had returned. He wouldn't let him be greeted by emptiness.

"Hey," he called out when he caught sight of his brother. "I'm over here, Garlan."

It was always telling, the expressions people wore when they thought no one was looking. Willas could already tell that Garlan had been through hell.