Or: How to Forge a Realm in a Cave, with a Box of Scraps. The night falls, and now the sea rises. It shall not end until the highest tide. They are the fire that burns impurities, the light that heralded progress, the horn that rallied the people, and the shield of the peaceful realms. Rated M for Martinian things.

Or: How to Win Hearts by Their Stomach. In which the arrival and establishment of House Kirino brings a wind sweeping through the kingdom. Will the wind be a cooling breeze, or will it be a rampaging storm? With the looming threat far north, the game of thrones stubbornly rolls its many-sided dice. Rated M for ASoIaF things & some nudity.

Or: How to Speak Softly while Carrying a Big Stick. In which Mental Models do things in our favorite medieval world, chaos and mayhem following their wake. Oh, and katanas are overpowered in Westeros, discuss. (I will be stepping on toes wherever I go with this fic, so yeah, probably not gonna be sorry.)