AMINA

The Godswood were quiet as Jon's words hung in the air between them. Going to the Wall to take the black. I should have know, she cursed. It had been near a moon's turn since he'd decided, but no one had spoken the words to her face and she turned a deaf ear to the chatter. She'd been so busy. After Bran had fallen from the Burned Tower things had seemed to speed up, and Amina was always running to catch up with them. Her nights were consumed with worry for Bran, and her days were spent grooming her sisters for the capital. Amina hadn't even gone out of her way to avoid Jon, she just hadn't time to sneak away. But finally the time had come.

In the Godswood, under her favorite soldier pine, he said goodbye. "We always knew this had to end," he said, though she could hardly hear over the pounding of her heart in her chest. He must hear it; he must know this will kill me.

"It doesn't have to," she whispered. Queens don't beg, she scolded herself, but that didn't stop the words from coming out of her mouth. "You can stay. Please." Her vision was cloudy with tears, but she didn't dare raise a hand to wipe them from her eyes. She'd used her tears a hundred times to get her way, why would this be any different?

Jon kissed her, hard and hungry as if this were their last kiss. As if he had to burn the taste of her into his memory. This is not our last kiss, she promised herself. I won't let it be. Amina could taste the salt of tears, but wasn't sure if they were his or her own. When she opened her eyes, he was gone.

Amina felt the snow under her knees. She didn't remember falling. Her forehead pressed into the bark of their tree. For hours she stayed like that, letting the sobs tear through her body until they finally ran out. The sun came up, and the castle grew quiet. He was gone, she knew. They all were. Amina was alone.

Amina bounced Rickon on her hip, while they watched Robb and Theon spar in the yard. Robb had been graduated from blunted training swords to live steel, and was determined to make good use of the new weapon. Amina wanted nothing more than to join them, but someone had to care for the youngest boy. Ned and the girls were eight days gone and Catelyn hadn't been seen outside Bran's bedchamber since.

"Lady Corrigan," Maester Luwin called from the terrace. "May I have a word?"

Amina gave a nod, and sat Rickon atop a hay bale. "Mind the boy," she warned Robb, before turning to Rickon and urging him to stay in his seat. Luwin stood at the top of the stairs, with books and papers. "Are we back to lessons then?"

The maester shook his head, and offered her a list. "Unfortunately, we are not. There are appointments to be made, ones that cannot wait." Amina scanned the names upon the list. "We're in need of a new captain for the guard, for one. Then there's the matter of food stores, the King's men had healthy appetites."

"And winter is coming," Amina finished. "Catelyn should review the figures, and the names." She hardly paused before she answered her own thought. "But Cat hasn't left Bran's bedside in a fortnight." Maester Luwin gave a small nod. "Very well, Robb and I will review the necessary tasks on the morrow, will that be alright?"

For a moment, she thought Luwin might protest. But they both looked down at the scene below. Robb, though sweating from the fight, was grinning like she hadn't seen since Bran's fall. "Very well," he acquiesced.

The maester retreated into the keep, and Amina lingered on the terrace for a moment, watching her boys from above. It was good to see smiles on their faces, though she couldn't imagine conjuring one of her own. For a moment Robb looked unburdened, like the boy he was supposed to be. Though Amina was Robb's elder only by a few short months, she hadn't been afforded the luxury of girlhood. No, she'd been tearfully removed from that bliss the day she learned her life was in perpetual danger. Sparing Robb one last day of playful sparring and smiles was an easy choice. He could grow up tomorrow.

Amina leaned over the railing, and called out below, "Either of you brave enough to face me in a knife throwing contest?"

Winterfell was empty without Catelyn. At least that was how it felt to Amina, as if her departure to the south had been the tipping point. Ned and Cat were the heart and soul of the castle. Though years of lessons had been leading to this day, the day Robb and Amina would take their place, neither of them expected it would come quite so soon. But it was good for her, busywork to distract her from the dark and ragged hole in her chest.

"Garrett of the winter town," Amina said when the subject of new guardsmen was breached. "He's lowborn, but he knows his way around weapons. I'd feel confident betting on him in a fight." In fact she had bet on him, many times. Sometimes even against Theon, but more oft against the bigger and uglier tavern-goers.

Garrett wasn't particularly large, but he was fast and deadly. He called Amina Quicksilver for the way she drew her knives. Garrett had been at her back in countless brawls. Maester Luwin gave Amina a curious look, but wrote down the name nonetheless. Robb stared pointedly at the tapestry on the wall. He had met Garrett once, and nearly gotten himself killed in the process. It was safe to say he wasn't a fan. Amina placed her hand over Robb's with a smirk.

"I believe that is the last of the appointments," Luwin told them, folding up his papers. "We'll continue the matters of taxes after supper?" Amina have her best impersonation of an enthusiastic nod, but as soon as the maester was out of the room, she dropped her head to Robb's shoulder.

"It's almost as if the days grow longer," she groaned. "Would that we had an endless supper instead."

Robb laughed. "I've seen how much you eat. If we had an endless supper, you'd grow larger than the King." Amina jabbed her finger between his ribs, causing him to jump. He chuckled again, and slipped his arm around her shoulder. It had been a long while since they were alone together, just the two of them. Almost always they had Theon or Jon along as well.

"You haven't gone to the Godswood since–"

"I haven't," Amina confirmed, cutting him off before he could speak the words. "It feels lonely now, even the birds are quiet."

"We could go tonight," he offered. "With candles like we used to." It had been there, under her favorite soldier pine, that she'd told Robb who her father was. He'd been the first one she'd run to, and he taken Amina straight to the Godswood, her favorite place. Robb knew all the right things to say, and he didn't mind her tears. But that was years ago, and so much had come between them since.

Before she was forced to reply, the doors to the hall opened, and Theon came in. "Had enough of playing Lord and Lady for today?" He called, joining them at the table.

"If only," Amina quipped, pushing herself from the bench and getting to her feet. "Are you off somewhere?"

"The whores and the alehouses are calling my name." Theon told Amina, tossing his arm over her shoulder, and swaying her back and forth. "And you look as if you could use a good fight. Ride with me?"

Amina ran her fingers across her knives. Since the attack on Bran and Catelyn, she'd taken to wearing a knife belt everywhere. "The Smoking Log is surely missing our coin," she reasoned. "And I should offer Garrett his position in person." Amina pursed her lips. "Alright, I've been convinced."

Theon stepped away and grinned. "I'll ready the horses."

Amina turned back to Robb, and offered a hand. "Come with us."

He shook his head. "Someone has to go over taxes with Maester Luwin." Amina bit her lip, guilty that she was shirking responsibilities already. But she could use a night away from the castle, and an excuse to leave Robb's side. "Go. I'll tell Luwin you felt ill."

Amina put a hand on Robb's cheek and gave him a soft smile. "Sleep in tomorrow, and I'll do twice the work." He nodded, though she knew he wouldn't. Robb would be by her side, bright and early, just as he always was.

Before she could get out the door, he called after her. "Amina?" She turned, with a raised brow. "The Godswood?"

"Soon," she promised. In truth, Amina was afraid the trees were tainted by too many memories made bitter by the year's events. What's more, she heard the implication beneath Robb's request, and her heart had not yet healed enough to let him in.

In the yard, Theon waited with the horses. "You're good at this, you both are," he said when Amina joined him. She furrowed her brows. "The decisions, the delegating. Being Lord and Lady."

"I wish I could agree with you," she muttered, reaching for her destrier's reins.

"Give it time, you've only been at it for two moons," he reminded her. "In a year's time it will be easier, you won't need to give it a second thought."

"Gods be good, Ned and Cat will be home long before then." Amina mounted her horse, the grey-white mare she'd named Myst. "Now, please, can we have one night without talk of business?"

"What about conspiracies?"

Amina frowned. It had been conspiracies that had taken Catelyn away from Winterfell, all on the word of a grief-stricken woman. "Until Cat returns, there's no use speculating. We cannot know anything for certain, and if word spreads, we'll incite panic from here to King's Landing."

"My lady!" A servant called, as they neared the gates. Amina turned her horse to face the girl. "My lady, it's Bran." She took heavy, labored breaths. Clearly she'd just run halfway across the castle.

Amina's stomach filled with dread. "Is he..."

The servant girl smiled, "He's awake."