#i chose Edward Handoll

[rax-writes]

Amicable

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Pairing: Willas Tyrell x Reader

Warnings: So disgustingly cute and fluffy that you might gag a little

Notes: I’ve been thinking recently that my dear Willas doesn’t get nearly enough love, and I wanted to help fix that. // Based on the prompt “How do you always manage to look so captivating?” from this list.

You were no stranger to love. More of an acquaintance though, really. You had seen it many times, as well as heard it described in songs, and read about it in books. But you had never personally met love. Truthfully, you didn’t think you ever would.

You’d been told from a young age that your husband would be chosen on the grounds of whoever would provide the most beneficial alliance for your family. In other words, you wouldn’t marry for love; you’d marry for political reasons. Because of this, you’d long ago come to terms with the fact that you’d most likely never find love. Deep down, however, you craved it more than anything in the world.

Your dreams were filled with fantasies of a man who was gentle, kind, and intelligent. Someone you could hold invigorating conversations with, someone who cared about you. Someone who loved you more than anything, as the songs and stories described.

Yet all the proposals you received were from men who were loud, brash, and dull as could be. They all seemed to think that you’d fall head over heels for them the moment they flashed a smile at you, or if they won a tourney in your honor. You wanted absolutely nothing to do with them, and you vehemently opposed each proposal.

The pressure on you from your parents to agree to a match was steadily increasing with each proposal you rejected. Their insistence was the only reason you agreed to meet the heir to Highgarden, but you assumed that you’d dislike him just as much as all the rest. You knew that you’d likely have to marry him regardless of whether or not you were fond of him, because your pool of suitors was almost entirely depleted.

The absolute last thing you ever expected was to fall fast in love with Lord Willas Tyrell – but it was the best thing that ever happened to you.

You had been less than thrilled about meeting – and ultimately, potentially marrying – Willas, but you went along with it, as you didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Your mother tried to compensate for your lack of enthusiasm by being extra cheery that day, but it had no effect on you.

When you entered the courtyard of Highgarden, you were instantly overwhelmed by the staggering number of flowers. Every color imaginable was exhibited by every type of flower imaginable in that garden, all combining to create a lovely floral aroma. Vines climbed up the surrounding walls of the castle, and birds sung happily atop the trees. It was a few minutes before you returned your eyes to the people around you, and when you did, your gaze instantly fell upon Lord Willas.

All of the air left your lungs the moment you locked eyes with him. He was far more handsome than you had ever anticipated, with a mass of beautiful brown curls atop his head, and a warm smile. You had been told that he had a crippled leg due to a tourney accident as a boy, and that he was a good man, and far more astute than the other men you’d met – but no one had mentioned that he was so attractive.

You were so busy staring at him that you nearly ran into your mother, whom you’d been walking behind, as she stopped once she reached the table where Willas and his company stood. You didn’t even hear your mother introduce you, but seeing her give a slight inclination of her head as a greeting managed to break you from your trance, and you followed suit.

After taking a seat at the ornately carved wooden table at the center of the courtyard, began the obligatory friendly chatter, followed by discussion of marriage arrangements between your mother, Lord Mace Tyrell, and Lady Olenna. You did your best to pay attention, although you mainly remained silent. You were primarily occupied by attempting to steal glances at Willas, but each time you did, you quickly looked away after finding that he was already looking at you, that same warm smile on his lips.

Once their discussions died down, they left you alone with Willas, so that the two of you could have the opportunity to talk privately. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, before Willas became the first to speak, a very serious expression on his face.

“I suppose this is where I should attempt to smooth-talk you into agreeing to marry me. I’m not very good at smooth-talking, so I won’t bother. I will say this: I know that I’m not any woman’s ideal husband. No woman dreams of marrying a cripple, who spends half his time with his nose in a book, and the other half with his animals. I’m not some well-known, handsome knight like my brother Loras, and I’m not a skilled swordsman like my brother Garlan. Those are attributes that most women hope for in a husband, and although I am none of those things, I like to think of myself as a good man. I hope that fact is enough to persuade you to at least consider the proposal.”

You allowed his words to sink in before responding. Truthfully, you wanted to laugh, but you knew that he would likely take it the wrong way.

“You consider yourself to be the last man that any woman would wish to marry, yet you’re the very man I’ve dreamed of since I was a child,” you began, and Willas’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. “I’ve had countless proposals from men who fit the description of what you believe to be a woman’s ‘ideal man,’ and I disliked every one of them. I’ve always wanted a husband who is kind and intelligent. Someone who describes themselves as a good man, who often has his nose in a book, seems to be exactly what I’ve always wanted.”

Willas’s smile returned as he let out a laugh, and you found yourself momentarily admiring the way his smile lit up his golden brown eyes.

“Well, you certainly seem to be the type of woman I’ve always wanted as well: beautiful, with a kind heart and horrible eyesight,” he joked, and you laughed lightly as you shook your head in disagreement.

The conversation flowed easily from there, and you found yourself completely losing track of time. It seemed that only a half hour or so had gone by, but when your mother and the others returned, they noted that several hours had passed. The grin on your mother’s face as she saw how much you’d been enjoying your visit with Willas was somewhere between overjoyed and relieved.

“It seems that we’ve finally discovered a man whose proposal you will accept,” she remarked, hope filling her voice.

You glanced at Willas, and the two of you shared a smile before you said, “Yes, it seems we have.”

-----

Years later, you found yourself looking down upon that same courtyard, in which three children were playing a game of tag. Your spot on the third floor above gave you an excellent view. Their jubilant laughter filled the air as they chased one another through the ornate garden. You were so busy watching them that you didn’t hear your husband walk up behind you.

“How do you always manage to look so captivating?” Willas inquired, leaning on the window ledge beside you. You smiled, feeling your cheeks and ears burning slightly.

“Even after eight years, you still manage to make me blush,” you said, and he only grinned before kissing your temple and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You rested your head on his shoulder, and both of you admired your children.

“They’re certainly enjoying themselves,” Willas observed, just as the eldest, your son, screamed in mock agony when his younger sister tagged him – after he slowed down to allow her to do so – before she sprinted in the opposite direction, as fast as her three-year-old legs could take her.

“Have you any idea how maddening it is to have gone through the struggles of carrying and birthing three children, only for each of them to look like a replica of their father?” you teased, looking down at the three mops of curls weaving between the rows of flowers, and Willas chuckled.

“They all have your personality, though. And I’ve always thought the youngest resembles you more than me, albeit with my hair,” Willas countered, and placed another kiss on your temple, squeezing you gently with the arm around your shoulders. “It’s moments like these that I’m reminded that I’m the luckiest man in the world. I have a beautiful wife, and three perfect children. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“What about a fourth?” you asked softly, glancing at Willas from the corner of your eye.

He looked as though he nearly gave himself whiplash from turning to look at you so quickly, his eyebrows raised so high that his forehead wrinkled slightly.

“Are you…?”

You nodded, and he let out a joyful shout before pulling you into a tight hug.

“Three perfect children, and counting,” Willas corrected, laughing happily. He pulled away from you so that he could cradle your face in his hands, those golden brown eyes you fell for so long ago shining as the sunlight hit is face. “I love you – more than you’ll ever know.”

“And I love you more.”

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