Queen of Ashes [ASOIAF]

―robb.

          𝓗is chambers in Riverrun felt cold, but the autumn chill was not the culprit. They had laid Hoster Tully to rest in the Mander that morning. The night before a raven had arrived with news of Sansa's marriage to Tyrion Lannister. In the window, Amina was slowly ripping the letter into tiny near invisible pieces. Grey Wind lay under the windowsill. "I should have gone with them when Robert asked," she murmured.

          "What good would that have done?" Robb whispered.

          Her focus stayed fixed on the shredded paper. "I could have helped Ned navigate that lion's den. I could have kept an eye on the girls. I don't know." She let out a sigh of exasperation. "I could have put a knife in Cersei Lannister's heart."

          "And then your head would be on a pike next to my father's," Robb concluded. "There was nothing any of us could have done."

          "There were plenty of things I could have done," Amina said, shaking her head. "But I didn't do them, so now we'll never know. It's what we do next that matters now."

          Robb paced the length of the room as Amina continued tearing the letter into bits. "My mother wants me to bend the knee, to take whatever scraps the Lannisters deem fit to give us. How can she ask that of me? They killed my father."

          Amina tossed the paper out the window and watched it drift away on the wind. "Bran and Rickon are dead, Arya is lost, and Sansa has married the Imp. What more can they take from us?" She asked, swinging her legs to the floor. Grey Wind nudged her hand, and she placed her palm to the top of his head. "All Cersei wants is to save her children. In a generation the war will be forgotten, as old and trivial as Robert's Rebellion once seemed to us."

          Robb huffed and turned to face his wife. "You would have me bend the knee as well."

          "I would have you live to see our child grow old," she retorted. "Do you think I like the idea of surrender? I hate it. It makes my blood boil. If my sister could hear me, she would send Drogon to burn my nose off. But we do not have dragons, nor an army of Unsullied. We are losing men by the day. I want to go home. It is not craven to turn around, not if it is to drive the Ironborn from the North. We are not the only family to lose castles to the Greyjoys. The Glovers and the Tallharts are just as eager to return to their homes."

          His mother had said the same. They had no choice but to return to Winterfell and see what was left of it. But to linger too long meant abandoning the Riverlands and admitting defeat. Before Robb could say any of that, Amina ended the discussion. "We can revisit the issue after Edmure's wedding," she said calmly. "After the Greyjoys are dealt with."

          Robb sighed, knowing this would not be the end of it. Amina did not simply let things go, and if she believed they should make peace, she would try her best to win him to his side. And Amina could be very convincing when she set her mind to something.

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          The road from Riverrun to the Twins seemed twice as long on the return trip. Every day spent camping in the woods was another day wasted in this never-ending war. Though it pained him to leave the Riverlands, he knew there was no other choice. His men were losing faith. They needed to see their wives and free their castles from Ironborn. But winter was drawing nearer with each passing day. When the first snow fell, there would be no returning south.

          From the way Amina dragged her feet, Robb thought that might very well be what she was hoping for. He had requested his wife stay at Riverrun, but Amina would hear nothing of it. "You may be stubborn, but I am more stubborn by half," she'd said. Robb had opened his mouth to protest a half did not come close but realized that would only drive her point home. "I will not remain in Riverrun while the rest of you march North. I am pregnant, not an invalid and I miss my home."