ROBB

"Sansa is just a girl," Amina chided. She slipped the letter out of Robb's hand before he could ball it into a fist or throw it on the fire. She was quiet as she read; the only sound was Robb's own footsteps as he paced in his father's study. "Clearly the Queen had a hand in this. Your sister must be frightened, imagine the state King's Landing is in. None of us was prepared for a war, least of all Sansa."

Robb continued pacing. How Amina was keeping her head was beyond him. Perhaps it was just exhaustion, she'd been in the yard nearly all morning. More than a few Northern lords were skeptical of her joining them on the march, and she was only too eager to prove her skillset. "At least we have some news," she continued, flatting the letter out on the desk. "The King is dead, and Ned is accused of treason. It's more than we knew yesterday. I've had quite enough of the outlandish rumors from the south."

"Is this any less incredible?" Robb countered. The very idea of his father committing treason was unthinkable, and it had been just a few short months since King Robert had been within these very walls. "And what of Arya? Sansa makes no mention of her, not even a word."

Amina banged her fist on the table, loud enough that it startled Robb to a halt. "I am just as concerned about Arya as you, but we are a thousand leagues away. Fighting has already begun in the Riverlands. We are at war. Taking our frustrations out on a terrified child solves nothing."

Robb collapsed into his father's chair, and ran his fingers through his hair. "What do you propose we do?"

"What else can we do but persist?" Amina circled the desk and knelt before him. "You cannot be emotional. Not now. The worst decisions are made out of anger and fear. We will give the Riverlands our aid, and then we will decide what comes next."

Amina turned her hands over, and waited for Robb to take them. "These men do not know you. They do not know if you can win this war, or if they can trust your leadership. But you are a Stark and if anyone can win this war it is you." She stood up, and tugged his hands insistently. "Now come, I cannot go into great hall without you. If I have to listen to one more second son tell me what great plans he has to rebuild Castle Corrigan, I may actually throw myself into the moat."

Robb smiled softly, and gave Amina's hands a squeeze before rising to his feet. "Yesterday, Bran told me he was worried all the lords dim-witted. Why else would they parade their sons and daughters in front of you and I when it's obvious they stand no chance?"

"The boy may have a point. Which is rather unfortunate, all things considered."

Robb tucked a strand of hair, which had escaped from Amina's braid, behind her ear. "At least the ones who aren't trying to marry you are helping you train."

"Oh, no, some of those men are also trying to marry me, they just prefer a bit more fire in their women. But at least they serve a purpose, I've become rather more confident with a sword these past weeks." Amina rolled her eyes, but he knew she was proud of it. For every fight she lost, she learned something new, and she was improving. Robb thought that the busy castle had served to raise Amina's spirits as well, she smiled more than she had since Bran's fall, and she'd settled into their new routine. If Robb were feeling especially bold, he might even say she was settling into life with him as well. "If one more lord insinuates that I would be better suited to life behind these walls with my cross-stitch, he will return to his castle with a cross-stitch needle in his eye."

"It may be your best work yet," he teased. "I've seen your cross-stich, it's awful." Amina brought her foot down hard on his boot. "After your showing at supper last week, I doubt anyone could say you'd be better off with cross-stitch."

Amina huffed. "You all act as if I impaled the man. I threw my knife at a roast duck, some might call that helpful, it did need to be carved."

"Lord Hornwood nearly died from fright," Robb reprimanded.

"It's his own fault for allowing his soldiers to argue like common sellswords. I could hardly hear myself think. Someone needed to shut them up."

"You've spent too much time at the Smoking Log."

Amina scoffed. "There is no such thing."

It had been a long day. The Karstarks had arrived, and with them the last of the twelve thousand men who would march south. Tomorrow they would all take their leave of Winterfell. In preparation, they had been up half the night in war council, yet sleep still eluded him. It was not nerves that kept Robb awake, though there were plenty of those as well. It was the look on Amina's face when he'd asked her to stay.

After supper she'd bid a goodnight to the lords, leaving them to their tactics and strategies. Though she was as good a fighter as any man, war was not something she had ever prepared for. But there were other things she knew better than any of them. Her mind was like a repository for stories, and Hoster Tully had told her plenty. Amina had been the only one willing to sit in his study and look at old maps and be regaled with stories from past wars and Gods knew what else.

It was easy to overlook the importance of history when the realm was falling into chaos around them. But each Lord had listened to Amina's descriptions of campaigns from Robert's Rebellion and beyond, some more willingly than others. A particular inspiration had been the story of Cregan Stark's Winter Wolves, who had taken down hosts much larger than themselves in the Dance of the Dragons.

Robb had always known Amina to be smart, she spent almost as much time with books as she did with weapons, though no one ever noticed that, if only because books made less noise. It had seemed only natural to ask for Amina's advice; she was riding south with them after all. But when Robb had suggested it, she had looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time. Every so often, as she told her stories, she'd look over at him with glimmer in her eyes, like she could draw them both inside the story she was weaving. It was infectious.

There was a knock on his door, so quiet that it took him a moment to realize where the sound had come from. Then there was a louder knock, followed by Amina's soft voice calling his name. He crossed the room to let her in.

Amina stood in the doorway, her hair loose around her shoulders. She was wearing her nightdress with boots and a heavy cloak. In her hand she held a bedside candle. "I couldn't sleep."

"Neither could I," he admitted.

She was quiet for a moment. The wax dripped down the candle and onto the little metal plate. "Let's go to the Godswood." The words were hardly out of her mouth before he was grabbing his own cloak. A soft smile played on Amina's lips as she intertwined her fingers with his and pulled him into the hall. In that moment he would have followed her anywhere, but she took him to the Godswood, just as she'd said.

At the gate, Amina stopped, and Robb worried that she would change her mind. This was a step forward for her, he knew, even if she wouldn't admit it. She had run here with Jon, it was here that he'd caught them years ago, the reason he was cautions around her. She loved his brother, and he would always be her second choice.

She stepped through the gate, moving the candle before her to light the way. She drank in the trees like she was dying from thirst. Months she'd gone without the Godswood, and he knew how she felt about the trees. If not the Gods themselves, the trees were her home. She stopped in front of a solider pine. Amina's favorite, if he remembered correctly, it had been under this very tree she'd cried on his shoulder so many years ago and told him she was a dragon.

Robb sat and leaned against the pine, and Amina sat facing him with her knees folded under her. "Our last night in Winterfell," she whispered.

"We'll be home before you know it," he promised. Amina bit her lip. "It's all right to be scared. Gods know I am."

"Is it that obvious?" She asked.

"No, it isn't. You're better at this than I am, you always know the right thing to say. Helman Tallhart called you clever, Greatjon Umber says you're bold, Roose Bolton believes you to be calculating. Every lord thinks you're the embodiment of the thing they value most, even I'm not sure what you are and aren't anymore."

"I have no idea what I'm doing either," she admitted. "I'm just a better liar than you. I've learned to give people what they want, while polishing a knife behind my back. The best show is one in which you can't see the costumes."

Robb knew she had her secrets and plenty of reason for keeping them, but still. "Isn't it exhausting, to always be something you aren't?"

"It's the only way I know."

Robb took her hands and covered them with his. "You don't have to pretend with me."

Amina smiled softly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Maybe not." After a moment she pulled her hands away and stretched. She leaned on one hand, across his legs, caging him in against the tree. They were so close Robb could feel her breath on his skin. With her free hand, Amina brushed the hair from his eyes.

"I wish you'd stay," he whispered.

Amina played with his hair, but she pursed her lips together and shook her head. "You know I won't. A ruler's place is among her people."

Robb sighed, but caught her hand in his and pressed it to his cheek. "I wish you'd stay," he repeated. "But I'm glad you'll be with me. You're the strongest person I know."

Amina looked at him, searching his eyes for something he couldn't guess. It was the same look she'd had when he asked her to stay in the war council. Robb held still, barely breathing. She leaned toward him, and slid her hand from his cheek to the back of his neck. He remained frozen; afraid if he closed the distance between them it would break the spell. Amina pressed her lips to his and lingered just for a moment, then she was gone and Robb was left with the ghost of a feeling.

Years had passed since Amina had last kissed him, and though it wasn't much, Robb hoped it was a sign. There would be time later to figure out what it meant. "We should go back," he whispered. "We have a long day ahead of us."