Queen of Ashes [ASOIAF]

―robb.

          𝓐mina walked with Smalljon Umber and several of his men. One of them whispered in her ear and she laughed, an infectious sound that cut off the moment she noticed Robb watching her. "I was asking about the battle," she told him, with a soft smile. She'd wrapped herself in someone's cloak, as if she were cold, but the fabric bulged in all the wrong places. Even if Robb hadn't noticed the way she curved her arm to make her shield appear as part of her body, or the sword hilt that jabbed tellingly from her hip, he would have known.

          Robb had seen her. Amina was eye-catching; a man would have to be blind to miss her. Even in the midst of battle, disguised in mismatched armor, with her hair pulled back and hidden under a half-helm, he had seen her. Robb had nearly missed his chance to capture Jaime Lannister because he could hardly look away. Not out of fear for her, but out of awe. Amina was a Northerner, it was clear, all stone and ice. She fought with a strength her frame seemed too small to possess.

          He held out a hand to her, as the Umbers dropped away to their own tents. "Come and I'll tell you about capturing Jaime Lannister." She smiled, but dodged his hand, surely if he got that close he'd notice her hidden armor.

          "Sounds heroic," she teased. "Let me find a proper blanket and I'll come by your tent in a moment." Amina walked away, flipping the red cloak with the Umber's chained sigil around as she went. No, he wouldn't tell her that he knew. He'd let her believe she had another secret. It was a wonder the weight of her secrets didn't bury her alive.

          When Amina did finally make it to his tent, she was dressed in a gown that seemed too delicate for a war camp. She had a large fur blanket wound around her shoulders, and she dropped onto his bed with a thump. "Now, what's this about Jaime Lannister?" She said it as if word hadn't spread through camp hours ago. Amina had always been an excellent liar, but this was only a jest.

          Robb shook his head with a soft smile. "I'm sure you heard about it from the Umbers already." She shrugged one shoulder, but didn't deny it. Whispering Wood had been a victory. There'd been loses, most notably Lord Karstark's eldest sons, but he couldn't think about that anymore. If he dwelled on it, he would only drag himself down. "Enough about war, that's all we ever talk about."

          "We are on the front lines," she reminded him. "It's rather hard to avoid the subject."

          "I can think of a few distractions." The battle had emboldened him, and Robb leaned toward Amina, pressing his lips to hers. Despite her clean clothes, he could still smell battle on her skin, the tang of metal and blood and sweat. It only made him want her more.

          Amina pushed him back with a raised eyebrow. "Need I remind you of your betrothal?"

         "When the war is over, we'll give the Freys something else." When Catelyn and Amina had returned from the Twins with a marriage pact – among other things – he'd been angry. It had been a poorly kept secret that his father planned to tell the King where Amina came from, and then she and Robb would be wed. Their children would have married Robert's grandchildren, giving his line more Targaryen blood to strengthen his claim. But Robert was gone, and Eddard Stark was a prisoner.

          "Edmure?" Amina asked with an amused smirk. She'd never gotten along with his uncle. "Old Walder Frey will love that. He complained endlessly that Hoster refused to even consider a match between Edmure and one of his girls."

          Robb gave Amina's arm a tug and pulled her down next to him. She stretched out on the bed, her head resting on his chest. Robb watched her for a while. It was rare to see her like this, so at peace. He could almost imagine they were safe at Winterfell, the war was over and they were home. But the spell couldn't last forever. "Amina? What happened?" Her whole body froze, but she didn't speak. "What happened to us? When we were children, we were best friends."

          With an exasperated sigh, Amina rolled away from him and pushed herself up on her elbows. "We still are."

          Robb shook his head, ignoring her pointed look. "But, things have changed. There used to be a time when our wedding day was what you talked about in the Godswood. Then one day you stopped. Believe me, I know you never felt for me as I did for you, but you used to care."

          Amina's eyes flashed lilac; sharp and sparkling like a bolt of lightning. He'd made her angry, but he had her in a corner and he couldn't back down. Maybe she'd tell the truth for once. "Of all the things you could accuse me of, you think I don't care?"

          That hadn't been exactly what he meant. He knew she cared, but about his family and about him, but not about them. "You used to talk to me, Amina. Remember when Ned told you–"

          "Of course I remember," she snapped. "I used to be able to talk to you. You used to treat me like–" She broke off and turned toward the pillow, staring intently at the embroidery.

          Robb caught her chin in his hand and turned her face back toward him. Whatever she'd been about to say, it wasn't the secret he wanted to hear. "If I ever did anything to push you away, I'm sorry."

          "You never did anything wrong." The way she said it made it clear there were things he hadn't done right either. "It isn't you. Any girl would be lucky to be loved by you. I'm lucky, it's just that I–"

          Say it, Robb wanted to yell. Just say you love him.

          "I was worried Ned was wrong, that Robert wouldn't understand. I wasn't worried about myself; I always knew I might have to run. But what would happen to the rest of you when I was gone?" She said it so convincingly Robb almost believed it. And maybe it was true, but there was more. He knew there was more.

          But her shoulder's slumped, and tears welled up in her eyes. Robb couldn't recall the last time he'd seen Amina truly cry, her tears had always been saved for Catelyn when she wanted to get her way. But this was not a show. "I'm sorry I said you didn't care. I know you do." Robb pulled Amina to his chest. She pressed her forehead against him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "What I meant is–" Robb stopped himself. He'd pushed her far enough for one night. He could try again tomorrow. Or never. If she said it, it would all be over. And Robb couldn't lose her just yet; he'd lost too much already.