HoMChronCorr2

• Between Book One & Book Two
• Between Story Four: The Bladeraven & Story Five: Rivergard Feast
• Between Story Five: Rivergard Feast & Interlude: The Greysteel Knight

After Interlude: The Greysteel Knight

From Lord Fenkirk Willum, to House Graben

To House Graben

It is with greatest joy that I announce the wedding of my son and heir, Ser Brice Willum, to the good Lady Amara Blackwood of Raventree.

Please join us at the beginning of the second week of the eighth month to see Brice and Amara joined in the sight of the Seven in the small sept at Waxworth. From there, they shall lead a processional down the road to Sweet Heath that the smallfolk may greet and congratulate them along the way.

The processional shall end in the ancient godswood on the edge of Sweet Heath where - per the customs of Lady Amara's home House - Brice and Amara shall once again speak their vows before the Old Gods kept by House Blackwood. A great feast shall follow back at Threeswords.

A celebratory tourney shall be held for our guests over the next two days, to celebrate the unions of Houses Blackwood and Willum, and to wish great joy and prosperity to Brice and Amara's marriage. Pavilion space is even now being prepared for this event, and we pray that we may count on your attendance.

With joyous regards,
Lord Fenkirk & Lady Aldia Willum of Threeswords

From Lord Beric Dondarrion, to House Graben

To Lord Emeryk Graben of Marrowmont,
I sent greetings.

Please be aware that I shall finally be visiting Marrowmont, at the onset of the sixth month of this year. I beg forgiveness for keeping you waiting, but the advisory progression down the Boneway has taken longer than anticipated. I deeply regret any inconvenience this has cause, and beg your indulgence for a short while longer.

I shall be arriving with a small contingent of soldiers and household knights. We shall not tax your hospitality unduly, though I crave forgiveness for the number of them. I am not returning to Stormhaven after visiting your seat, but am instead headed directly to King's Landing to join Lord Renly's court for a handful of months there.

Penned by my own Hand,
Beric Dondarrion
Lord of Blackhaven
Warden of the Dornish Marches

From Amara Blackwood, to Brice Willum

Sealed Private
My dearest Brice-

It is done. My father and our maester have proudly announced to Raventree that the negotiations with your father have been concluded. The wedding is set for the eighth month at Threeswords, and will be done in first a sept and then a godswood (there is apparently an old godswood at the edge of Willum domain that no one really remembers all that well, though it only has an old elm for a heart-tree). I overheard father speaking of my pregnancy to the maester, as well. Any other father would have been horrified and scandalized. Not mine - apparently, he managed to actually reduce the dowry your House expects from mine, citing the impropriety of our dalliance together and the potential damage to my virtue. Infuriating man.

Speaking of my growing belly, things progress apace on that front. Though I'm not showing any signs yet physically, I am definitely with child. I've been battling bouts of hideous nausea and various unsettling other maladies that no one ever warned me about when discussing the "blessing of childhood." I suspect if they told girls what they might truly expect, mankind might die out in a single generation. Suffice to say that by the time we are reunited, I shall be very glad to be over the worst of it, and with mostly fatness to look forward to.

My dreams are strange these days. The line between dreams of the green sort and the normal kind are blurrier these days - something to do with being pregnant, I suspect. My gammer says that all women come closer to dreaming true when they are pregnant, but I don't know how much credence I put into that. I suspect they are mostly fears and the strange humors that overtake women when they are gravid: my dreams are full of dragons and war, of shadows that wear the shape of men stalking the Stormlands and myriad other unpleasantries.

I even dreamt that a great giant, terrible pale and faceless, rampaged through Marrowmont. In his rage, he kicked over walls and smashed soldiers and smallfolk. It was horrible.

Forgive the turn this letter has taken - I intended to keep it light. I do long for the time when we can be together again. The short time I had in your arms and in your bed haunt me, in that I wish nothing more than to be back there once again. I pray the gods speed these days past, that we may be once more.

With all my love and longing,
Your Amara