AMINA

The garden was more beautiful than anything Amina had ever seen. The plants were every color of the rainbow, with flowers that looked like jewels. Even the stonework was glorious with carvings of animals and dancing women. She felt as if she'd awoken in the realm of the Gods. Amina pinched the skin on her wrist, and still she was not shaken from the dream.

Across the garden silks blew in the wind, and when they parted for a moment, revealed a large room beyond. Amina pushed the curtains aside and stepped into the chamber. The walls were covered with tapestries, which depicted scenes both familiar and fantastical. The floors were made of green marble that shined like nothing she had seen before.

A quiet gasp pulled Amina's attention, and she turned to see a girl sitting in the bath. Her arms were crossed over her chest and silver blonde hair fell over her shoulders. She looked like the water nymphs depicted on the walls. "I seem to have taken a wrong turn," Amina said, uncertainly. Though, in truth, she felt as if she'd been mean to find this room and this girl.

"Are you one of Xaro's guests?" The girl asked, stretching toward a table for her robe. Her fingers couldn't quite reach. Amina handed the girl the silk robe, finer than anything she'd seen, even in Renly's frivolous summer war camp. "You look so familiar."

"No, I–" Amina broke off and sighed. "Well, I suppose I have no idea where I am. This is a rather elaborate dream. But you, who are you?"

The girl laughed. "I ought to be asking you that question. But I've been hounded by Qartheen who wish to see me, it's refreshing to meet someone who doesn't." Once she'd slipped into a robe, she extended her hand. "Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen."

Amina stared at the girl's hand for a moment, and then at her face. Daenerys dropped her hand to her side. "That's impossible. House Targaryen is gone." All of them but me. But the longer Amina looked, the more she found the similarities. Eyes a light shade of purple, and hair the color Amina imagined hers ought to have been if it weren't for the dye. Daenerys had softer features, and they made her look young, but not so different that Amina couldn't see herself in them. She remembered Jaime Lannister's words: you aren't the only one.

"Who are you?" The other girl asked finally, clearly growing nervous with Amina's silence. "You are not Qartheen."

"In the Seven Kingdoms they know me as Amina Corrigan, but it is a lie. My father was Aerys Targaryen, and my mother died on Dragonstone. I think I may be your sister."


Amina fought awareness, even as the dream slipped away like water through her fingers. She kept her eyes shut tight, hoping that if she didn't let the light in that other world would return. But the sounds and smells of Renly's camp cut through her dream and brought her back to the present. Catelyn was standing over her, looking rather concerned. "Are you ill?"

The raven-haired girl pushed herself up onto her elbows, taking in Renly's pavilion as if she could will it away. "No, I'm alright," she murmured when it was clear the dream was not returning. "My dream was so…real."

Catelyn sat on the edge of the bed. She was already dressed, Amina had overslept. "Tell me about it."

"There was a palace, it was unlike anything I've ever seen." Amina could almost smell the sweet and spicy scent on the air. If she strained, she thought she could still make out the birds in the distance. It had all been so vivid, as if she were really there. "But the strangest thing was the girl in the bath."

Catelyn raised an eyebrow. "She looked like me," Amina continued. "A little. She was thinner, her hair was silver, and her eyes…" She trailed off remembering the other girl's eyes, violet, a few shades darker than Amina's own. "She said her name was Daenerys Targaryen."

The expression on Catelyn's face changed in an instant. Her eyes flicked toward the tent flap as if someone would be summoned just by hearing the word. "You must never speak that name."

Amina looked at Catelyn blankly for a moment. "Why? Do you know who she is?" After a pause she added, "Is she real?"

Cat was silent for a long time. She pressed her fingers over her eyes and sighed. She looked tired, the kind of tired that ran bone deep. The kind of tired Amina felt as well. War sucked all the living out of you.

"She is real," Cat said quietly. It was all she said at first, and the thoughts began to swim in Amina's head. How had she dreamed about that girl? Where was she? And then another thought: How did Catelyn know her?

"You knew there were more?" Amina whispered, trying her hardest to keep her voice even.

Catelyn reached for Amina's hands, but Amina dodged them. Cat looked resigned. "I didn't until the King came to Winterfell. Before then we thought you were all that was left, but Robert had news." She paused for a moment before continuing. "You know that Aerys had a second son?" Amina didn't bother to nod; Catelyn knew she did. "He escaped before Robert's army could reach Dragonstone, but he did not leave alone. Robert learned that Viserys and his infant sister reached Essos unharmed. He sent spies to find them, kill them."

"I have a sister," Amina whispered.

"Many knew Rhaella was pregnant when she left King's Landing, but most believed the baby was lost. We knew better, of course, but Ned always thought you were the only one, until Robert…" Catelyn was desperate to be believed, and Amina did believe her. But in the end, she'd still kept the secret.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Amina asked. "When you found out, why didn't you tell me?"

"Robert wanted her dead, he sent assassins to find her," Cat explained. "Ned was worried if we told you he'd receive news of her death soon after. We thought it was best to keep it secret. We wanted to save you that pain. We never imagined…"

Amina laughed humorlessly. "Never imagined I would dream my way into the girl's bathing room? Me neither. But I did. Somehow."

"They call them dragon dreams," Cat said quietly. "I know little about them. But we all know the story of the girl who dreamed the destruction of Valyria and brought her family West."

Amina shook her head; she couldn't think about that now. Couldn't wonder about Valyrian magic and whether or not it was in her blood. That was a question for another day. Today all she could think was that Catelyn had kept this secret for a year. This monumental secret that even Jaime Lannister had tried to tell her.

"I'll be riding to Storm's End to meet with Stannis," Catelyn said softly, after a moment of Amina's silence. "We'll leave as soon as you're dressed."

"I'm not coming with you," Amina said after a pause. "I'll remain here with Margaery until you return."

For a moment Catelyn looked as if she wanted to argue, but she didn't. Finally, she nodded, and rose from the bed. "I'm sure Lady Margaery will appreciate the company. I'll return as soon as I'm able."

Amina said nothing, only stayed on the bed with her knees drawn up into her chest, thinking about the girl in the bath. Daenerys Targaryen. Her sister.


Amina sank her knives into the target one after another. The familiar thwack soothed her. When her belt was empty, she walked to the target, collected her knives, and began again. The rhythm felt like her heartbeat. Like she became a part of the knives, and when they landed in the wood, they took a little bit of her with them. The confusion and betrayal that had been threatening to bury her dissipated with each throw.

"Well done, Lady Corrigan." The voice broke Amina's concentration and her next knife found itself stuck upright in the dirt. She turned toward the voice and scowled. The knight held his hands up in surrender. "My apologies. Your skill is impressive. Are you that good with a sword? Bow and arrow?"

Amina shook her head. "I train with both, but my affinity is for knives."

She looked at the man for a moment. It was the knight she'd been sat next to the night they'd arrived, Ser Aylward Caswell. He was the brother of the current Lord Caswell, but from the way they spoke–or rather, didn't speak–they weren't close. "Lady Stark left for Storm's End. We were surprised to hear you weren't going with her."

"We had a falling out," Amina said simply.

"Ah." The knight paused and shifted uncomfortably. "Well, families can be difficult."

Amina raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you would know." He winced. She felt a bit bad about saying it. It wasn't Ser Caswell she was upset with. "Did you only come to tell me Catelyn left?"

"Also, that Queen Margaery asked for you," the knight added. "With so many going with the King to Storm's End, she's having rooms made up for you in the castle."

Amina thought it strange a knight of the Rainbow Guard would be playing messenger for the Queen, but kept her mouth shut. Better not to offend the knight twice in one conversation. "Are you going with Renly as well?"

"We're leaving at first light," he confirmed. "Lady Stark rode ahead to arrive on her own."

Amina nodded. For a moment she stayed quiet, and the knight began to leave. "Ser Caswell," she called. The knight stopped. "Will you look after her? Catelyn." They both knew that Catelyn had her own men to do that. But they also both knew that wasn't why Amina was asking. Aylward nodded once. "Thank you."


Amina lay draped across a cushioned couch. Her hair hung loose over the edge, nearly touching the floor. Margaery was buried in her wardrobe tossing dresses out of it into a pile at her feet. Her ladies would have a mess to clean up after the Queen finished her search. "I don't need to wear the dress," Amina told her for the third or fourth time. "I have my own."

"But this one will be perfect," Margaery promised. "And besides, we're celebrating."

"My nameday was a fortnight ago," Amina reminded her.

"And you told no one," the Queen said, reprimanding her. "So, we celebrate tonight."

Amina propped herself up on her elbows to look at her friend. There was more to this than Margaery was saying. She was distracting herself from something by treating Amina like her doll.

"Margaery, sit down," Amina said. The Queen did nothing of the sort. Amina tried again, this time firmer, "Margaery, sit."

The Queen looked over and let out a short breath. "Is it that obvious?"

"You're positively frantic," Amina said matter-of-factly. Margaery joined her on the couch, and Amina swung herself up, so they were face to face. "Are you worried about Renly?"

Margaery nodded. "And my brothers, and Ser Caswell, and all the others." She shook her head. "How do you do it? Your people are fighting in the Riverlands and you are so far away. Does it not scare you?"

"Of course, it scares me," Amina said softly. It was true, though she'd tried not to think about it. "I'm just better at controlling it. We've been fighting longer; I've had more time."

Margaery turned toward her. "Does that make it easier, the time?"

"Some, but mostly it only makes it easier to pretend," Amina admitted. "You don't have to be strong, but you have to pretend that you are. There are so many eyes on you, and they're all just as scared as you are. But you are their Queen, and they must know that you believe in your King, in his army. If you can't show them that, if they can't see that faith…there isn't any point to it. Without faith we fall apart."

Margaery's shoulders shook, and a moment later she was crying in Amina's arms. The raven-haired girl stroked the Queen's back, the way Catelyn used to do to comfort her. "I never asked for any of this," Margaery whispered. "I never wanted to be their Queen. I don't know if I can do this."

"You can," Amina whispered. "I believe in you."

"Aylward said the same thing," Margaery said quietly, pulling away from Amina. "But it's easy to believe in someone else's strength when you have so much of your own. I've never been that person, the one that people relied on or the one who needed to rely on themselves. I always had others to be strong for me."

Amina remembered when she was a girl, young and naïve. The years when she believed she that she really was Amina Corrigan. When Eddard and Catelyn had been her world. And then her world had changed, and she couldn't rely on them anymore. Not because she couldn't trust them, but because relying on them put them at risk. She had to rely on herself.

"Relying on yourself might sound like independence, but it's just another word for fear," Amina whispered. "You wish you'd been able to choose your path, but none of us can choose. Fate is out of our control, only sometimes it's a little more obvious who's pulling your strings."

Margaery dried her tears with her sleeve and tried to smile. "At least you can choose who to marry."

"Oh, Gods," Amina groaned. "I thought I'd finally escaped the suitors when I left the North, but no, I've just found a whole new batch of them."

The Queen giggled softly. "It could all be over; all you have to do is choose." Amina raised her eyebrows. "You should meet my brother, Willas. He's home in Highgarden. He's very kind, and very smart."

"I could never marry a Southerner," Amina assured her. "The North wouldn't stand for it. Beldain's history goes back to the First Men. We'd start another war."

Margaery laughed again; her tears forgotten. "Is it really as bad as all that?" Amina nodded gravely. "What's it like? Beldain I mean."

Amina shrugged. "I don't know, I've…I don't remember it." She'd almost said she'd never been, but Amina Corrigan had been born on the island. "I've been told it's beautiful. That it's shaped like a sea star, with great mountains in the center. There're deep forests of Ironwood and in the mountains they mine for precious gems. But, if you get past all that, there's a lake. They say the water is so clear you can see the whole world reflected in it."

"It sounds beautiful," Margaery said wistfully.

"It does," Amina agreed. Not for the first time she thought about running away. Becoming the girl they all believed her to be. Rebuilding Castle Corrigan on the cliffs and building a new home amongst the ghosts.

But she couldn't. Just like Margaery, there were people watching her, relying on her. Amina would not let them down. She had to see this war through, to walk out the other side into the new world. No matter what that world looked like, she could not run from it. It was inevitable.