AMINA
The Godswood were beautiful this time of day. The sunlight came in through the red leaves and cast a glow on the pool below. Amina lay beneath her favorite tree, a tall soldier pine with a multitude of thick branches meant for climbing. The sticky sap on her dress was evidence enough that she'd already climbed the tree once that day, and was giving serious consideration to a second trip up.
Her considerations were cut short by an attack, she let out a tiny squeal as a blur of black and grey pinned her to the ground. She kicked, her legs causing her skirts to hike up around her waist, and clawed at the dark haired boy. Finally she gained the upper hand. They'd been here too many times. She knew all his weaknesses. Amina flipped him over, straddling him. Her own black hair had fallen out of its braid and cascaded around her face as she stared down at him with a grin. "You make this too easy, Snow."
"Catelyn sent me," Jon said, sheepishly. It wasn't the first time her lady mother had sent hunters after her, and it was surely not the last. Jon Snow was the only one who could ever find her. "You had me worried too. I thought you'd run away this time for sure, Ami."
Amina leaned down, her face hovering above his. "You know I'd never run away without you." She ran a lot, but the furthest she'd ever gone was Castle Cerwyn. Lord Medger had invited her to stay for supper and then sent her back to Winterfell with an escort. Amina would have come back anyway, she always did. She'd learned long ago that running scared Catelyn Tully half to death, and when Catelyn was scared she was like to give Amina whatever she wanted. Running had gained her almost everything important in her life: her knives, sword fighting lessons, peace and quiet. The only thing she hadn't begged out of Ned and Cat was Jon Snow.
Jon propped himself up on his elbows to close the distance between them, and pressed his lips to hers. It was a sweet, soft kiss. He tasted of pine and honey. Amina sat up quickly. "Are there honeycakes?"
Jon nearly choked on his laughter. "There are if Arya hasn't eaten them all by now. If you want some, you should hurry inside."
She rolled off him, dropping back into the pine-needle bed beneath the trees. Small, red-eyed Ghost licked at her face. Amina lifted a hand to scratch under the direwolf's chin. "If I go in, Catelyn will find me and want to lecture me on being a proper lady. As if I don't know how to put on a good show." Amina ran her fingers though her hair, untangling the rest of her braid. "I won't embarrass anyone in front of the King."
"Your hair's fading," Jon noticed, reaching out to twirl a piece of grey-black hair around his finger. "She'll want to dye it again before the royal family comes." As if attempting to protect Amina from that fate, Ghost clambered into her lap.
Amina groaned, a long drawn out noise, and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. "The dye makes it smell for a week. Tyrosh is famed for their dyes, yet they can't manage to remove the stink? I bet someone at the market is cheating us. It's probably not Tyroshi dye, it's probably some tar they cooked up in a kettle." She held a chunk of particularly faded hair up to the light; if she squinted she could almost see the silver. Or maybe that was just grey.
"Do you want to run away?" She asked suddenly. Amina had thought about it a hundred times. The world was so big and full of mysteries, and she'd only seen one tiny corner of it. "We could go to King's Landing, where my family lived. Or across the Narrow Sea on a trading galley. We could be sellswords in the Golden Company, or merchants in Qarth. Or we could learn magic in Asshai and never want for anything ever again."
"You won't want for anything," he said after a moment. "Not when you're the Lady of Winterfell." Jon looked at her with his sad grey eyes. She'd known for most her life that she would marry Robb Stark one day. Their betrothal was a secret from most. To the world she was only a highborn girl from an extinct house. Ned and Cat had taken her in as a ward, raising her alongside their children, grooming her to be the perfect little lady. They'd even gone through a whole show of parading her off to the seats of all the Northern lords as if they were actually seeking a match for her. But nothing would change her blood. She was a dragon and one day there would be no more hiding it.
"I don't want to be Lady Stark. I don't want to raise children and sit on my hands while men fight battles leagues away. I want adventure." It was the only thing she couldn't weasel out of Catelyn with her running. She'd conceded to Amina's sword fighting lessons, and her throwing knives. Allowed her to go on hunts and attend tourneys as far south as the Twins. But whenever she asked to be set free, her lady mother would only pet her hair and promise that one day Ned would tell King Robert of her lineage, and Amina would finally be free. They had very different definitions of the word.
Jon shook his head. "You're lucky." They'd had this conversation a dozen times. There were so many things they understood about each other. Bastards and orphans were not so different. Surrounded by loved ones, they were still alone. But on this matter they couldn't be more opposite. "Thousands of girls would kill to be in your shoes."
"I'd gladly hand them over without all the bloodshed," she quipped. "I'd be a peasant if it meant I could be with you."
Before he could answer, there was a shout from the gate of the Godswood. "Jon? Did you find her?" Catelyn's voice was tinted with worry. Still, she remained outside the gate. Catelyn Tully never entered the Godswood without a reason. It was just one of the many differences between Amina and the woman who raised her. "I see you sitting on the ground. Is she hurt? Don't tell me she fell out of a tree again."
Amina pushed herself to her feet with a huff. The direwolf barked as he tumbled into the pine needles. "I'm quite alright!" She called toward the gate.
Catelyn tore through the trees and wrapped Amina in a hug. She squeezed tight enough to crush bone, but Amina knew she was more than strong enough to shake Cat off if she wanted to. But she never did. At the end of the day, Lady Stark was the closest thing she'd ever had to a mother. The love she gave was welcome, even if it was often stifling.
When Catelyn finally let go, she ran her hands over Amina's hair, taking a good look at her. "You nearly scared me to death. I thought for sure someone had kidnapped you this time." It was unusual for Amina to run off without first kicking up a fuss. But this time hadn't been a ploy to gain anything, only a moment to breathe. "Your hair is much too light, this won't do. Come inside, there's still time to set the dye before dinner."
Amina let out a long sigh, but she knew better than to argue. There were few things that Catelyn stood her ground on, but the hair dye was one of them. Jon gave her an apologetic look from the ground, and an awkward half wave as Catelyn tugged Amina out of the Godswood and toward her smelly fate.
