The Storm Queen | Game of Thrones

Fourteen

Jon

Jon

I write this late in the evening with your cloak wrapped around me as if it were you and all I wish is that you were here with me, or rather that I was with you, far away from this mess.

You need to hear this from me first. There are rumours that I am pregnant, they assume with Robb's child but some have figured out the truth about us. I am not pregnant, that I swear, but these rumours will reach you with the prisoners headed to the wall, and I could not let you believe it to be true.

I'm afraid that I will lose myself, lose sight of what you helped me remember, and so I hold your memory as my anchor. I pray I was wrong about the wall, and that you are safe there, no matter how badly I wish you were here.

Cassana

I sigh heavily as I read her letter, what I feared the most right in front of me. She might not be pregnant, thank the gods, but she's losing herself in that city. Meanwhile, I'm finding myself here.

"Oh Cassie," I sigh, running a hand over my face and know if there's one thing I can hold onto, it's that she loves me. And I love her.

But we both have our duty to the realm, we've both made our mistakes and we're suffering the consequences of it. But even after it all, I know that someone loved me, and I loved them too. 

Time's yet to tell if it was worth the consequences of it.

~

Cassana

Days turn to weeks as I find myself more at home in the keep than I had ever expected, those who once snickered at me now bow their heads in respect as I pass.

I spend my days in small council meetings learning all I can about what it takes to run seven kingdoms as well as the truth to the politics at court. I find myself growing closer to Varys, while Littlefinger is all lies Varys is hidden knowledge. I've taken Ser Barristan up on his offer to train me with a sword, it certainly makes me feel safer in this keep. 

I have taken up residence in the rooms that previously belonged to Rhaegar Targaryen, with living space as well as an official office in which to greet visitors and hold business.

"So these are the accounts following the Hand's tournament?"

"Indeed they are," Littlefinger says. "Not quite encouraging is it?"

"No, not at all," I agree. "Which is why Renly and I have decided to extend our houses alliance with the Tyrells."

He raises an eyebrow. "Lord Tywin will not like to hear that."

"While my brother may rule House Baratheon of Kings Landing, House Baratheon of Storms End is another issue entirely," I remind him. "We are a House of an appropriate amount of wealth, however it would be wise to expand that wealth for the better sake of the crown would it not?"

"And how would you go about furthering your alliance with the Tyrells?"

"Those negotations are not a matter of the Master of Coin," I say sternly. "Your matters are ensuring these coffers are not emptied until we can find another source to alleviate the Crowns debt to my grandfather."

"I understand," he says and there is a knock on the door.

"Yes Bree?"

"Lady Margaery of House Tyrell is here to greet you your grace."

"Excellent, let her in," I say, having been anticipating her visit. "That will be all lord Baelish."

He excuses himself and Margaery enters, curstying to me.