Author's Note: Ghost never sired any pups, but Greywind did. His daughter, Greymist, is now Robb's direwolf.
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Friday, 30 April 1813
Evenfall Hall, Tarth, Stormlands, Westeros
Dear Dany and Tyrion,
I do not know which of you I am more angry at: Dany, you know better than to agree to every ludicrous scheme presented to you— has being engaged to Jaime for over seven years taught you nothing?— but Tyrion, you should not have asked her in the first place. You were perfectly aware she would never refuse you, and look what happened.
Feel lucky that Tarth has been hammered, of late, by pirates and thus I cannot spare the time to come to Casterly Rock and chastise you both in person. This island does not defend itself, unfortunately. And yes, unlike you two dunderheads, I take every precaution and never act without serious prior consideration.
Also unlike you two dunderheads, I have given my people instructions to apprise you of my situation in the event I am unable to write you myself, so that you don't go weeks without communication, wondering if catastrophe has befallen me. I've no doubt Jaime and Captain Snow have been frantic, and with good reason, it turned out. You should be ashamed of yourselves.
I shall expect weekly missives from you, ser and madam, apprising me of your status or else pirates be damned: I will present myself unannounced on the Lannister doorstep just like the newest residents of Casterly Rock. And I promise you, my mood shall not be half so amiable as theirs was upon arrival.
Enclosed is the text of the letter you may recopy to Jaime. He probably thinks Tarth overrun by pirates, and me ravished and killed.
In high dudgeon,
Brienne, Countess of Tarth
P.S. Give said new residents my regards, and also my sympathies for having to deal with you. I wish them the best of luck in holding their tempers when you vex them, which I've no doubt shall be on a nigh-daily basis.
P.P.S. Before you protest that your worries of my preoccupation with defending Tarth against the pirates rendered your rationale valid, I provide the counter-argument that I could have easily hired a captain-at-arms to perform the task in my place while I was in Casterly Rock, had I been given the chance.
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Tuesday, 4 May 1813
Casterly Rock, Westerlands, Westeros
Dear Jaime,
Sorry, it's only me. Apologies for the lengthy gap in communication. I take full responsibility.
Dany has been unwell again. You know how delicate she has been since Highgarden, and Viserys certainly did nothing to ease her burdens, the twat. Her endurance was truly at its lowest ebb when he died, and I felt certain we would lose her, as well. Your timely letter— most particularly the revelation within— was all that lifted her from danger, and I attribute it entirely with saving her life.
Ever since then, she has been nearly vibrating with excitement, despite my warnings that she must rest and recoup her health slowly. There was that business with the socks, and as always she and the Countess of Tarth have been feverishly exchanging letters, the details of which they refuse to share with me, but which are keeping our ravens exhausted from incessant cross-continental dashes. Consequently, when this latest event occurred, it took very little for her depleted stamina to fail her once more.
"This latest event" being the fact that Father has died. It was peaceful and painless, the maesters assure us. A disappointment, to be sure, but we must content ourselves with the knowledge that he is at this very moment being mercilessly prodded by a legion of the Stranger's most persistent demons and their pointiest pitchforks.
With Father gone, I have been made to take his place, at least until a new Hand is named, and ever since have been besieged with the matters of the entire kingdom. With myself so occupied, I asked Dany to take upon herself the governing of the Westerlands. She agreed happily, which I thought a kindness at first.
At second glance, however, I should have realized it was beyond her endurance so soon after her illness, especially after losing Father, who for some reason she actually liked and counted as a paternal figure of sorts. Poor orphan; she doesn't realize what a wretched parent he was, having no basis of comparison.
I take all blame for her relapse. Be aware that you could not possibly berate me more harshly for this oversight on my part than I do myself. Fortunately, I now have a secret weapon on my side, this time, to make Dany comply when she tries to overexert herself: I simply ask, "Would your beloved wish you to do this? Or would he want you to rest?" She subsides instantly. It is magical. I wish I had known of it years ago; think how many rows we could have settled, so much more easily!
Since Dany cannot govern the Westerlands alone, and I am too busy with the rest of the kingdom, she had a novel idea: ask someone else to do it. We both initially thought of Brienne, who would of course excel at it as she does everything else, but it is pirate season and, knowing how busy she is kept in leading Tarth's defense against them, Dany and I agreed it would not be fair to ask it of her.
(Brienne has since learned of our folly and raked us over every coal in Westeros, insisting she could have overseen both Tarth and the Westerlands with one hand tied behind her capable back. I have no doubt this is true, and have apologized with all the sincerity of which I am capable, but she has yet to forgive me. I live in hope that you will have better luck at persuading her. I am also considering suggesting to His Majesty that Brienne be named as new Hand because the gods know she could do it better than anyone else. Don't shout, Jaime; it would give her something to occupy her time so she doesn't worry herself into a nervous state over her beloved being so far away, in such danger.)
Having eliminated Brienne for the role, Dany's next suggestion was to contact, of all people, Robb Stark. It seems he offered his assistance to her in recent days, for reasons I simply can't imagine. Intriguing, don't you agree? Hm. In any case, together, Dany and I wrote to ask his advice on how to proceed, expecting him to merely suggest a reliable steward to whom we could entrust the duchy.
His response, however, was to pack up his wife and daughter and son and present himself at Casterly Rock, intent upon doing the job his own self. He insists we are doing him the favor, as it gets his little family out from under the thumb of his so-formidable mother, who seems to have very forceful views about how the children must be reared, and which have been vexing poor Jeyne of late, especially now that the heir has been born.
Thus the Westerlands are currently being run by Robb Stark, with his wife serving as lady of the manor, and Dany to advise them as needed. Who could ever have imagined lions and wolves striving together in harmony? There are wolf puppies all over the place, Stark and dire both, making this old pile of stones very merry indeed. Father would spin in his grave like a lathe, which makes every bit of Brienne's scolding so very, very, very worth it.
The two ladies— and a nurse, of course— have been sharing mothering duties, as well. It will come as no surprise to you that Dany is very fond of the children, and lavishes them with affection. She remarks often how closely little Jon resembles his namesake, in fact, and I often find her watching him with an expression so tender that it quite takes my breath away.
With Father gone, I have petitioned the Lord Commander for an early curtailment of your commission. We can't have a duke risking his life fighting Dothraki madmen in the mud flats of Essos, can we? Hurry home.
Your brother,
Lord Tyrion Lannister, Acting Hand of the King
P.S. Your batman has arrived. I have given him to Dany, and taught him the trick of how to make her behave. He, too, marvels at its efficacy, though he feels very guilty using it. Never fear, I shall beat that out of him with all haste.
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Tuesday, 4 May 1813
Casterly Rock, Westerlands, Westeros
Dear Jon,
Things went very quickly or I'd have written you sooner. Having learned that Lord Tyrion and Her Highness, Princess Daenerys, are at this moment writing letters to His Grace, Major Lord Jaime, I thought I would add my own missive to you in their packet.
You are doubtless wondering why I am at Casterly Rock and have been taken to the bosom of House Lannister. It happens that Mother has been even more active and enthusiastic in offering the benefit of her wisdom and experience in parenting to Jeyne since Jon was born than she was after Eddara's birth. As you can imagine, this has not been well-received by my wife, and we had been in the throes of deciding to which of the North's properties we could remove ourselves, in the interest of familial harmony.
Then, as if by providence, Tyrion and Her Highness wrote to me. His Grace, Lord Tywin Lannister, has passed away and Tyrion requested my advice in selecting a steward to govern the Westerlands. Thus with an eye toward preserving my marriage I decided that I myself would act as the desired steward, instead of recommending someone else. Jeyne agreed right away, and we left immediately, arriving scarcely two weeks later.
I did not have the pleasure of knowing His Grace well, but it seems clear he was a man whom one either loved or loathed, with no middle ground between the two. Tyrion is of the latter opinion, and assures me that Major Lord Jaime shares his less-than-favorable view of their father. Her Highness, however, had been fond of His Grace and is saddened by his loss. Tyrion and I are agreed that, if Her Highness was able to find something in His Grace of which to be fond, she will adore Father, who as we know is all things admirable.
I had thought the Lannisters could not possible be more mad than the Starks, but they are, just in their own unique way. Tyrion is a fey creature, staggering of intellect if not of stature, but with a dark wit that asserts itself at odd times. I have not yet had the honor of spending much time with Her Grace, Lady Cersei Baratheon nor her children beyond what brief company we kept at Highgarden, but cryptic words on Tyrion's part hint at a paucity of fraternal affection between the sons and the daughter.
Her Highness remains just as pleasant as she was when we first met her, but has gained an air of melancholy that I am given to understand has been a characteristic since being parted from her beloved. However, she remains all things gracious and has welcomed us with every evidence of affection. Her Highness honors us by paying close attention to Eddara and Jon, caring for them as affectionately as any mother might. In recent years, she had come to believe she would never have children, convinced she and her love would never be reunited, but events of late have renewed her hopes of motherhood.
I shall close by assuring you of our continued wishes for your health and safety. Eddara requests I tell her Uncle Jon to be careful. I join my wishes to hers: there are several here who would grieve most deeply for you, and another who might not survive your loss.
Your brother,
Robb Stark, Earl of Winterfell
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Tuesday, 4 May 1813
Casterly Rock, Westerlands, Westeros
My Most Beloved Fiancé,
Pray forgive the delay in responding. I am aware that Tyrion has written a very fanciful description of the last few months here at Casterly Rock. I beg you to only believe half of it. Perhaps just a third. He embellishes most shamefully, as I do not need to tell you, who know him best.
It is true I was a bit fatigued, and I do not feel eager to encounter our dear friend's ire when next I see her— she is very adamant about how she ought to have been asked to perform the role when neither Tyrion nor I could— but everything has resolved quite satisfactorily. Tyrion has no business carrying on in a way sure to upset you, and you can be sure I am just as severe with him as our dear friend is with both of us. You have enough to worry about without believing me on the precipice of death.
Lord Robb and Lady Jeyne and little Eddara and Jon have been a surprising but delightful addition to our household. Please convey to Captain Snow the profound appreciation I feel for his consideration, in asking His Excellency to make himself available for my assistance. My regard for the captain has but grown since Highgarden, and I anticipate with great eagerness the time when we might reacquaint ourselves with each other.
Regarding your father's death: being aware of the tumultuous relationship you had with him, I know you will feel conflicted about his passing. I beg you not to chastise yourself too severely if you do not grieve as deeply as a 'good' son ought— you are the best of sons, as is Tyrion; I daresay you are better sons than His Grace might have deserved, in fact.
Whatever his sins, he has gone on to his reward, and the obstacle he presented to our happiness has now departed. You can come home when your commission ends, and the wedding we have all so dearly anticipated can take place. Excitement for the day I become your wife makes me giddy as a child, which I know will make you laugh to think of, since I am not a giddy type of woman, and it looks peculiar on me. Our dear friend teases me endlessly about it, but my mood is so elevated at the prospect of being your duchess at long last that it does not bother me, nor does anything else. My joy has rendered me impervious to any verbal sling or arrow.
The drawing you enclosed of yourself and Captain Snow in local garb has become my most precious belonging ever since its receipt. It happens that your former batman— and my newest footman— Podrick Payne has some nice ability at drawing as well, and was kind enough to make a faithful copy of it for our dear mutual friend, who was in raptures to see it. We have both of us enclosed our drawings in glass, to better protect and preserve the fragile paper, and look upon them many times each day.
I note you failed to include more description of Yunkai and its environs in your last letter. Be so kind as to correct that oversight, won't you, dear ser? I have trouble conceptualizing you without some idea of setting, and 'lots of red dust' does not lend itself to accurate imaginings, I fear.
With all the love I can express,
Princess Daenerys Targaryen
P.S. Included with this letter is a drawing of myself, courtesy of dear Podrick, as well as one of our friend as done by a servant, one of her laundresses, I believe she mentioned. Talent can appear in the most unlikely places, can it not? I include the drawing of our friend in the interest of keeping her image fresh in your mind, since she is dear to you as well, and if you wished to show it to various other of our mutual acquaintances, I am certain our friend would not object to such.