Winterfell, second to last day of the Year 274...

Lyarra had survived the birthing bed despite all fears.
Lord Rickard Stark was kneeling in front of the Heart tree and prayed with a thankful heart, his heir by his right side and his oldest daughter and youngest son at his left side.

Two newborn and strong daughters were now screaming in the nursery, while their mother, his beloved wife slept exhausted but peacefully in his bed.

For a short while before the birthing started, it had looked critical for Lyarra, as the Maester had found the first babe laying badly in position for the birth but thankfully this Maester Luwin was not only a more learned and knowledgeable Maester about the birthing bed and care for women than the Maester before him, Walys the miserable Whoreson and traitorous Cunt ever had been, but also had agreed to Lyarra's wish for Old Nan to be her midwife too.

Lord Rickard thought back to the lost two pregnancies two and three years ago and how miserable Walys had cared for Lyarra back then. The Warden of the North still felt guiltly about not already back then sending the worthless Maester away, about not already back then listen to his dear Wife as she had begged him to sent the Maester from her room and to let only work Nan and the other knowledgeable women as midwives instead. He shuddered for just thinking about Lyarra 's chances to survive this Twin birthing, he shuddered for just imagine what could have happened if the the useless Walys still had been there instead of this Maester Luwin. It had been a good idea from Hother to speak for this talented Maester and that Walys had been guilty of his own downfall on top of it, had been his final mistake but had freed Winterfell thankfully from his ungrateful hide.

And these were now the reasons that Nan and Maester Luwin together had managed to turn the bad laying first babe even in Lyarra body and to make sure that the birth of the two babes would then be successful.

Two beautiful daughters, which meant all together three boys and three girls now and thankfully his wonderful wife was now finally on a good way to recover her strength. Old Nan though had looked afterwards to the babes, then to her Lady and at last to him, her Lord himself and told him in her most self assured Voice that this was his Lady Wife 's last pregnancy and that too much had been hurt by the misgivings of the former Maester in the two unsuccessful pregnancies before, that it was not only a wonder that this last pregnancy itself ended with the healthy babes but that it was a miracle in itself that the new Maester had been able to stop the bleeding of the Lady Lyarra at all, for the second babe had left her mother's body with part of her mother's womb.

Rickard had asked Nan and Maester Luwin to spare him the exact details and felt like a coward for it and though the Maester had looked uncomfortable himself to talk about such intimate womanly anatomy, Old Nan had only scoffed and mumbled something about fighting Women and sensitive Men.

The Warden of the North still remembered all to clearly the absolute pitilessness in Nan 's eyes about him squirming while thinking about the happenings of his wife's birthing bed, while he now was praying in front of the Hearttree and he hoped that he would find a way to make it up to his wife and to find a way to show his proper admiration for her strength to survive such a dire Situation.

And then his mind wandered away from his wife and he thought about Ned's letter from King's Landing. And more than about the letter of his second boy, he thought about the secret letters from Hother and all their dangerous informations.

It was time, thought Lord Rickard to himself, it was time to have a Council with his bannermen.

House Stark would invite all Lords to Winterfell, to celebrate the birth of the Twin Girls and the survival of the Lady Stark and then he, Rickard would use the feasts as a good cover to speak with his most trusted bannermen about the dangers from the South.

...
Winterfell, same time in the library Tower

While the Warden prayed in the Godswood with his two middle children and Maester Luwin and Old Nan cared for the Lady and her Twin babes, while the countless servants and men - at-arms did their daily deeds, there was an already old man high up in the Library Tower writing a letter to his Great-grand nephew.

Maester Aemon had never been interested in the medical treatment of women and thus nobody had even asked him to help the Lady of the Keep in her hard battle.

Instead everyone seemed glad that he had stayed out of the way and the old Targaryen had used this extra time alone to search among the more secured texts of the old and voluminous library of the Starks without being watched by the younger Maester.

The Guards which Lord Stark had always sent to accompany and to watch Maester Aemon, were standing guard outside of the Library Tower and Aemon enjoyed it immensely to be free of their suspicious gaze for once.

He had copied some texts already, nearly all of them interesting for Rhaegar and he had even managed smuggle out three letter-bearing Ravens to his great grand nephew.

It had been helped his actions of course that one of the Ravens had been sent to Winterfell from King's Landing by Lord Stark's second son, who was there with his Foster family and countless nobles from everywhere of Westeros.

The reason had brought joy and sadness at the same time to Aemon, joy for the promising boy to have become King and sadness that it happened so early, too early.

Alas, these letters would be helpful to Rhaegar and surely would ease his mind thus.
Aemon was thankful that he could help his brother's youngest scion with these simple measures.

...
Casterly Rock, around the same time

At the same time but far away, Ser Kevan Lannister was sitting in the Grand Solar of the Lords of the Rock and was thinking about all of what had happened in the last couple of moons. So much Chaos and then so much failure in their own family. It was good that his oldest brother had not seen the treacherous behavior of his own children, it would had enraged Tywin. Hopefully Genna would find a way to control Cersei, spoiled little girl that she was still, the same as Tygett already found a way to control Jaime. The boy was easier to handle of course, Tygett trained with him everyday till the boy keeled over from exhaustion but the girl proved herself to be without understanding that not everything had to go her way.

Ser Kevan's mind wandered to the one-armed Prisoner, Ser Jon Connington, who was currently jailed in a comfortable but not escapable Room, high up in the Rock. Dammit about the boy's arm, if he had but only laid down his sword by his own will. Foolish boy this Stormlander.

And then there was the uncomfortable Situation that Tygett had slain the Kingsguard and that all the hundred of the Kingsmen's Gold cloaks were now dead too. Kevan disliked these unneeded deaths, such a thing as a slain Kingsguard did not looked good for his own House but he and his siblings had been so enraged about the letters that the Kingslanders had just had come at the wrong time for a King's demand to be answered in any other than the bloody way.

Now Kevan rued his and Tygett 's quick swords, especially since the complete escalation had been the fault of Tywin' s Twins, but back then, the bloodied lumps of Kingslander corpses had been immensely satisfying.

The regent of the West sighed. If only Tywin would sent another letter, so that it would prove that the Head of House Lannister was still free and alive. No spys had brought anything forward about Tywin, nothing at all. The only news which had reached the Westerlands after the Kingsmen, were about all the nobility being in King's Landing and the young King's bride and the new squires of the remaining Kingsguards, all heirs of their regions and countless other informations.
Even the lies about Tywin, coming from the King's own mouth had been mentioned by Genna's spys. These lies had of course enraged Kevan and his siblings but for the moment there had been nothing they could gave changed about it.

One interesting information had been among the gossip though, namely that the new King had not invited the Iron Islands and had even made a joke at their expense.

Old Quellon Greyjoy might be an interesting ally, not that Ironborns could be trusted of course. But it was never a bad idea to try to secure one side in an certainly upcoming conflict. Still, no Lannister worth his Gold had ever trusted these damn Reavers.
In the end, it had been Genna who had written the letter to the Lord of the Ironborns and Kevan had signed it two days ago.

If only Tywin would finally gave a sign that he was still alive, thought Kevan to himself.
The regent of the Westerlands really wanted to know if he was preparing his lands to fight for their true Lord or for revenge of a slain one.

Meanwhile on Pyke...
Lord Quellon Greyjoy frowned deeply after he finished reading the letter which he had received barely an hour ago. He looked up from said letter and his eyes found his sons, Balon and Victarion were standing together closest to his right side , Urrigon and Aeron were playing with each other close by a window on the left side and Euron, oh Euron, he was sitting on his knees, all the while rocking his upper body, in the most far away corner.

Lord Quellon closed his eyes for a short moment and swallowed down the bile which had rosen in his throat while he had read the letter and which now turned only more bitter at the sight of his son.

Euron had been bright, eager and already cruel and clearly dismissive of every one around him and that had been of much concern for Quellon. Especially since the boy had already started to mistreat his younger siblings.

But then, from one day to the other, Euron's mind seemed to break apart, his body had collapsed and he had started to speak gibberish, nothing of sense, not even one understandable word.

Since that day, thirteen moons ago now, his second oldest living son was without clear mind, without strength and always kneeling and rocking his upper body forwards and backwards.
Only uttering gibberish noises without sense and pissing and shitting himself without even trying to control it.

Lord Quellon looked quickly away from the wreck of a boy and concentrated on the letter again. What in all seven hells was the reason for Kevan Lannister to ask him, Quellon Greyjoy for a meeting in Casterly Rock?