Author's Note: I'm not going to explain too much just yet- I want you to have a read, first, and see how much of it become self-explanatory as you go along. But if you have any questions about what's happening, please ask them in a review and I'll address them in the author's note for the next chapter.

Be it known that Brienne's father has died by now, and she is the Countess of Tarth in her own right. Dany has continued to live at Casterly Rock, with periodic visits to Tarth. Jaime has been stationed at Tyrosh, also with periodic visits to Tarth.

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seven years later

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Sunday, 2 January 1813

Astapor, The Gods Only Know Where, Essos

My Dearest Fiancée,

I hope this letter finds you well. Apologies for the delay since my last; did I send it from Volantis or New Ghis? These cities are all blurring together, I'm afraid. I haven't been able to tell one from the next since Lys.

I have just arrived at my deployment in Yunkai. I had been looking forward to enjoying some balmy heat, after a chilly and damp winter in Pentos. What a fool I was; in this part of the world, there is nothing but dry, choking red dust that sneaks it way into everything. And I do mean everything, wench.

(There, have I got you blushing yet?)

The voyage from New Ghis was dull and cramped, since they have put us on ever-smaller ships each time we reach another port. I half expect to have to row myself into Meereen on a dinghy when we deploy for that godsforsaken city in a few months.

You may find it of interest to know that my second-in-command here is someone already of our acquaintance, the newly-promoted Captain Jon Snow. Perhaps you would be so kind as to mention such to our dear mutual friend, who might find it of interest?

Captain Snow remains as hale and hearty as ever, and is not much changed from when we knew him during our stay at Highgarden, though he has since acquired some very manly facial scars that somehow do not deter the attention of various of the camp followers who will persist in trying to gain his favor. However, I have yet to notice him availing himself of their charms, and doubt I will, for he declares himself very particular; there is a very narrow set of characteristics he will accept in a woman, or so he says.

He had already heard of our engagement, my dear, but was very surprised to learn of its duration. How long has it been now? Six years? Seven? I confess, the years float by, unnoticed, as if upon a sea of bliss, since the happy day our hearts and hopes joined as one.

I explained how we are in no rush, content to wait until such time as all circumstances align for the best possible outcome. Captain Snow commends us on our patience, for he doubts he would be able to endure such a delay, were union with his beloved hover within his grasp.

He may have a point, my darling, because few days pass without me longing for you. It must be love, wench, because most of the time, said longing is for us to share a meal or walk in a garden rather to engage in any of the more licentious activities you have, with your maidenly sensibilities, thus far refused to grant me.

I will end this letter on that wistful note, and remind you that I eagerly await any and all missives from you, no matter how mundane or boring you might think they be.

Ever and eternally yours,

Major Lord Jaime Lannister

P.S. Send socks. You wouldn't believe how quickly one goes through socks, here.

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Tuesday, 26 January 1813

Casterly Rock, Westerlands, Westeros

Dear Brienne,

Enclosed is a copy of Jaime's latest letter. As always, the original is on its way to you via regular post. Forgive the smallness of my writing (there is much to say and little room on a raven's parchment to fit it all) and also the delay in forwarding this to you. My last month has been a difficult one.

Viserys has died, and almost took me with him. How he contracted such a virulent lung ailment, I will never know, but he permitted no one else to tend him until I fell ill also. Lord Tyrion and His Grace, Lord Tywin, were all things solicitous, and spared no expense in providing for our care, but my brother was not to rally, and passed from this world on 15 January.

Once Viserys succumbed, I began to accept my own death, as well, feeling my life devoid of purpose or point. I have carried on so long for Viserys' sake only, since we left Highgarden. Even my mission to help you by posing as Jaime's affianced wife, which you know is a labor I gladly undertake for love of you both, did not inspire me to fight the sickness that ravaged me. I had become certain that Jon was dead, and with Viserys gone as well, what more reason was there for me keep on?

On what I thought would be my last day, Jaime's letter arrived, and I saw proof at last that the gods have not forsaken me after all: Jon is still alive. Over seven years since he left Highgarden, not a word of news about him in all that time, and now, to have assurance that he is well… I have not stopped weeping for a moment since Tyrion read the letter to me, even as I grow stronger each day, bolstered by the joy this knowledge has brought me.

Every beat of my heart proclaims he is alive, he is alive, he is alive. My anguish since our parting has turned to relief, and fear as well, for Essos is still very dangerous, though the conflict there is all over but for the plundering. I know you share my fear, for Jaime is in the thick of it, as well. But take courage, my friend, for my dear fiancé lives a charmed life and will return, perhaps a bit bruised but still as wholly his unique self, and still as wholly yours, as ever.

I pray that Jaime's uncanny luck is enough to encompass Jon, and keep him safe, as well. Could it be at all possible, Brienne, that Jon might still care for me? After so brief a courtship, and so much time and distance? If so, is it not likely that he recalls the Dany from the idyllic situation in which we found ourselves, the Dany who no longer exists, but has been replaced by the sad and hollow woman I have become since our parting? I veer wildly between hope and despair.

Send your response by raven, as well, so I can reply to Jaime with best speed.

Your loving friend,

Princess Daenerys Targaryen

P.S. I have denuded the entirety of Casterly Rock of its socks, and have sent to Lannisport for more. I intend to send Jaime no fewer than 200 pairs and have enlisted Tyrion's assistance to arrange the shipping of such a sizeable parcel. He agrees with me that the joke of it will entertain and lift his brother's spirits. Jaime's service in the army is done as much for myself, to spare me the need to marry, as for himself and you, and we must keep all of him healthy, even his feet, must we not?

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Monday, 1 February 1813

Evenfall Hall, Tarth, Westeros

Dearest Dany,

Enclosed find the text you may copy for your response to Jaime's letter. It is so difficult to write in a way that makes it (hopefully) clear to a knowing reader which of us is referred to, without alerting those who monitor the officers' correspondence for revelation of military secrets. I ask you to make clarifications as you see fit, should I fumble my words and confuse.

How dismayed I was to hear of your illness, and the passing of your brother! I grieve for your loss, and chafe at being so far away when I might have tended to you, and kept your spirits up so you did not fall into such despondency. But such inspiration was provided, it would seem, by a divine hand.

Your Jon Snow has survived against all odds, and thrived besides! Surely your prayers have been heard and answered? I have been telling you for years that you must have faith and patience. Be aware that I am feeling very smug, indeed, about having been proven correct yet again. I have congratulated myself for my wisdom and foresight no fewer than three times so far while writing this letter, in fact.

There can no doubt that Captain Snow still esteems you, despite how you may have changed in the interim (as we all have) for he came to love you for your core attributes of loyalty, compassion, sacrifice, and bravery, and those you still have in abundance, my dear.

You must pay me a visit as soon as you are able. Casterly's damp stone and cold winds are sure to defeat your body's attempts to recuperate. Tarth's warm climate will see you better in a trice. Please say you will come!

Ever your grateful friend,

Brienne, Countess of Tarth

P.S. Jaime will laugh for days at receiving 200 pairs of socks. I only wish we could send 300, and make him laugh for a full week. I am terrified for him, Dany. Ever since we learned he would be transferred from Pentos to the theater of operations in Ghiscar, my entire body aches with fear and longing. I have newfound sympathy for what you have endured without Captain Snow all this time. Your fortitude inspires me, as always.

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Saturday, 6 February 1813

Casterly Rock, Westerlands, Westeros

To My Adored Fiancé,

How pleased I was to receive your letter! I am glad you arrived safely in Astapor. Would you be so kind as to provide a more complete description of its appearance? And feel free to omit anything about uncomfortable locations upon your person the local environment might insinuate itself, if you please.

I was very much affected to learn the identity of your second-in-command, but no more than our friend, who was so taken aback that she was quite overcome for several days. She begs you, through me, to communicate to Captain Snow her fondest hopes for his continued health and safety, for which she has prayed without cease since last they saw each other.

It saddens me to share with you the death of my brother. Viserys had been unwell for a brief while, and at one point in recent weeks I had feared that I might also succumb to his malady, so fragile of spirit have I felt since the departure of my most beloved from my side, since which feels like the better part of a decade. However, your letter arrived just in time, and its happy content gave me the strength to rally from my illness as nothing else might have done.

I improve more each day, and when I feel well enough, will be traveling to spend a prolonged visit with our close friend, which I anticipate very happily, for if I cannot have you nearby, my love, she is almost as dear to me and helps make the empty days without you pass more quickly.

Your mention of the captain's continence regarding the camp followers has me intrigued. Of what does his 'very narrow set of characteristics' consist? If you provide me with a list of them, I will consider if any women of my acquaintance possess them. I recall Captain Snow fondly, and would dearly like to see him happy with a wife who esteems him as highly as he deserves.

Yours in heart and soul,

Princess Daenerys Targaryen

P.S. I have enclosed every sock to be found in Casterly Rock and Lannisport. Your father and brother are both extremely vexed with me, for they shall go barefoot while the maids and I knit our fingers to the bone to create more for them. I tell them that the needs of our soldiers take precedence over those of mere civilians, but they remain unsympathetic. Never fear, I am steadfast in my commitment to ensure you remain free of trench foot.

P.P.S. It has been seven years, four months, two weeks, and three days since we became engaged. For shame, ser, that you do not recall such an important date!

P.P.P.S. How I wish I were able to see your faces when you received such a large box, and then when it was opened and you saw its contents! I and our dear friend have been giggling foolishly over your reactions since I conceived of the idea.

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Friday, 19 February 1813

The Saucy Vixen, Slaver's Bay

Dear Robb,

Have you ever found that your life was comfortably stagnant, the same exact thing day after day, and then in quick succession, many enormous changes came upon you, so rapidly you could scarcely keep up and were sent reeling? The last seven years has been such for me. Despite the frequent change of venues demanded by the military, my life had acquired a pleasant sameness for so long: rise in the morning, be a soldier, sleep at night. It brought me a much-needed peace, and kept my mind off matters that, when brooded upon, cause my outlook to darken.

Then in the past year I lost Ghost, followed soon by the attack upon Major Mormont, and having to track down the mutineers who killed him. It gave me no satisfaction to dispatch them, even with the fine sword Mormont gave me before he succumbed to his wounds. After that came my promotion, with many new duties and responsibilities, and an entire regiment of men looking to me for direction until the assignment of Mormont's replacement. Still, life settled into a different, but similar, familiarity.

Then Mormont's replacement arrived: Jaime Lannister, Robb! You more than anyone are aware of the reason his presence would be unbearable. I felt sure his appointment as my commanding officer was the cruelest joke the gods ever played upon a man. Maintaining a respectful demeanor took everything in me, but he is perceptive, for all he acts the fool, and hastened to defuse the tension between us with an explanation that is as mad as it is clever.

I cannot reveal it to you in this letter, since I have no expectation of privacy, but I will say that Major Lannister is indeed promised to she who holds his heart, and together they maintain a close relationship with a very dear mutual friend for whom I had, in the past, harbored some fond hopes.

Lannister assures me that this friend's affections have remained fixed upon me, despite the time and distance fallen between us. I had not dared to hope it might be the case, but his fiancée responded to his letter and included such warm tidings from our dear friend that I am compelled to believe it is true.

This friend has suffered some difficulties in recent days. Might I prevail upon you to ensure she has all she might require? Please address yourself to Princess Daenerys Targaryen, who currently resides at Casterly Rock and will direct your letter to its proper recipient.

With gratitude, your brother,

Captain Jon Snow

P.S. We have been deployed to Yunkai and are in transit. Thus I have written this letter while on the deck of The Saucy Vixen (who names these ships? I fear it is someone with the sensibilities of Tyrion Lannister) and a gull felt the urgent need to relieve himself in my near vicinity. That white spot at the bottom of the page is his memento of our voyage. It would not come off despite my best attempts to clean it, and I have no blank parchment left to rewrite this. You will just have to suffer through a little bird shit, brother.