"He shouldn't have said that to you," Jaime said. Brienne cocked her head at him, though he didn't see. He was sitting on the edge of their bed, his head in his hands, looking for all the world the weariest man on the planet. He was a dramatist.

"What's that then?" she asked, approaching with a smile.

"That most men would run a mile."

Brienne snorted. "It's true, Jaime." She saw that Jaime was about to speak up, to speak some lies about how she was beautiful and other people could see that. Before he could make a fool out of himself, Brienne said, "It's not because I'm homely. My mother was homely and my father loved her. He's always been upfront about the fact that that would not stop a man from falling in love with a woman if they were truly connected."

Brienne watched Jaime crease his brow momentaneously. "But then-"

"My father supports me now in what I do, in sparring and that sort of thing," Brienne told him, "but it wasn't always so simple. We argued - a lot. I have a very positive relationship with my father now but- no man truly wants their daughter to fight."

"I do," Jaime protested and Brienne gave him an amused smile, perching herself next to him on their bed.

"Well, there's only one Jaime Lannister," she teased.

"You're very perky considering we just argued with your father."

Brienne pursed her lips. "Like I said, Jaime, my father and I always used to argue. He said that most men would run a mile because most men do not want a wife who fights rather than stays at home with the children and plays house."

"Most men are wrong," Jaime dismissed. Brienne smiled.

"And I love that you think that."

"And I love you." Brienne rolled her eyes as Jaime approached and pulled her close, his hand on her hip. "Are you going to speak to him tonight or make him sweat until tomorrow?"

Brienne barked out a laugh. "Make him sweat until tomorrow, of course." Jaime grinned and covered her lips with his.

XXX

"Good mornng, Father," Brienne said as she entered the small dining room. Jaime had gone to eat in the main dining hall with some of his men who were visiting, leaving Brienne to speak with her father alone. Any remnant anger at her father had faded away overnight. Her father's comments were nothing new and they had given Jaime cause to defend her honour, very ably and very sweetly.

And, now, she got to see her father shame-faced and apologetic, which was always a pleasing sight. "Brienne," he said, rising from the table to press a kiss to her cheek. Brienne let him and then sat down, cradling her stomach and smiling at her father. "I want to apologise for what I said last night, for how I treated your husband."

"What you said you have said times before," Brienne dismissed. She didn't need her father to start pretending that she was beautiful again, as he had tried when she was very young. She much preferred when he was honest with her and complimented the things she valued: her honesty, her loyalty and her strength, in fighting and against those who spoke harshly to her. Her father's honesty with her throughout her life had been what made her strong enough to survive the ball and the bet. "What made me angry was the way you treated Jaime."

Her father nodded solemnly. "I can't deny that I was surprised when I heard that you had married Jaime Lannister and I thought it was some big ruse, or a way of distracting Cersei, I don't know. I thought he was using you and that he would either abandon you or die when the war was over. And then he survived and, when you asked me to come, I was thrilled. All the way here, though, I couldn't stop thinking about him and about what I knew about him. So, when I arrived, my brain was in overdrive, thinking about what this awful man had done and how he was going to hurt you. I needed to be sure that he wasn't going to."

Brienne smiled. "Father, I need you to trust me. I married Jaime because I love him. I'm having Jaime's babe because I love him."

"I know that now," he said with a quiet voice.

"Jaime has told me everything about his time under the Mad King and about Cersei. I do not judge him for his actions under either of them," Brienne said. Her father met her eyes. "I am not going to ask Jaime to explain himself to you because I don't believe he needs to. I know that you are going to take my word that he has made some bad decisions but that he has made lots of good ones too."

"I do take your word, dearheart," he said. "I want to get to know Jaime. I'm going to stay here until after you've given birth so that we can get to know each other."

Brienne smiled and reached across the table to take her father's hand. "That is all I ask." They were interrupted by the breakfast arriving. The baby kicked in anticipation. "So, tell me all about things on Tarth."

XXX

"And do you know who they were?" Jon demanded of Lord Varys, who sighed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, your grace, but my little birds do not know. They are silent on the matter. It is most disconcerting to me, as well as, I'm sure, to her grace," Lord Varys said in his silky voice. Jon almost groaned aloud, pushing a hand through his hair and realising belatedly that his crown sat atop it.

"How could anti-Targaryenists even have been allowed near the Red Keep?" Varys only shook his head. "Missandei was innocent in all things. To have targetted her was a personal attack on her grace."

Varys nodded his head. "This is what I fear also. Missandei was a good child, who should not have been killed. The anti-Targaryen faction is taking your joint ascension most unhappily."

"I thought that my being Ned Stark's so- ward might have helped," Jon said tiredly. "But we are receiving news of riots and more and more death threats by the day. Grey Worm's Unsullied are being picked off one by one and the Dothraki are not allowed to buy anything in King's Market."

"It is a very fragile situation. Even one wrong step could be the difference between a reign of fifty years and a reign of not even one." With that onimous statement, Varys left Jon, scuttling away, back to wherever he went and slept and plotted. Jon didn't even know where the man's quarters were.

Sighing, he turned and headed towards his own chambers, where he hoped to find Dany. After they had returned from Missandei's wake, she had immediately returned to their chambers, dressed all in black. Thankfully, the day had been cold, as winter continued to hold its icy fingers over the city. The wind had been bitter as the Unsullied had carried Missandei's coffin to the cliffside where they had decided to bury her, where Grey Worm had declared her to be free forever.

It had been incredibly difficult to watch Grey Worm hold himself together. Dany had not faired so well, sobbing openly from the beginning. Jon clenched his fists as he reached his guarded door. The attack had been so cruel.

Jon found Grey Worm in the solar that was linked to their chambers, with Dany. Grey Worm was standing, his hands behind his back. Dany noticed Jon in the doorway. Her cold face did not change, though he saw recognition in her eyes. "Leave us now, Tordo Nudho," Dany said and Grey Worm simply inclined his head and exited, not with a single look at Jon.

Dany stood and walked into their chambers. "How are you?" Jon asked softly.

"Fine," she snapped. Jon didn't take it personally. "I'll be better once our enemies are dead."

Jon nodded, swallowing. "I'm afraid that Varys didn't know who the attackers were."

Dany took a heavy necklace off from around her neck. "That doesn't matter. We know who the anti-Targaryen families are. Grey Worm is going to take retribution from them instead."

Jon froze. Dany continued to undress. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. She was so calm, so organised as she took each piece of clothing off and hung it from her walls. Since Missandei's death, she had insisted on doing it all herself.

"Dany," Jon started slowly, "we can't simply kill the families who oppose us if they have made no moves to force us out."

Dany looked at Jon, blinking. "People from their faction came and they killed Missandei. Whether they were truly from their families or not, they were sponsored by their families, paid by them. That deserves some retribution."

"So, you're going to kill what? One of every house?" Jon asked, panic rising in his voice. Dany arched an eyebrow. "More? Dany, you have to speak to me!"

Dany scowled. She was entirely naked now. "I don't have to do anything, Jon. These people killed my friend and they are going to die for it."

"All of them?" Jon asked quietly. Dany was silent. "Dany, please tell me that you have not ordered the deaths of their entire families. These attackers may have been acting alone!"

"Or they may not have been. Either way, we take out a legitimate threat to our reign!"

"And anger the population. Dany, you can't truly-"

"I can!"

Her voice was venomous. He'd known that she was angry, known that she was mourning heavily, but this was rash and it was something that she would never be able to take back. When these families were dead, it would be what people remembered her reign by. A massacre of opponents.

Jon couldn't bear to look at her. He turned around and left the chambers to those that were officially his, though they had never been used. He had to write to Tyrion, to ask for advice and to plead for help. If this rash behaviour continued, Dany would lose the throne before she had sat it for a year.

XXX

Brienne loved the market at Lannisport. It was full and bustling and sold all manner of things, so much more than the fish, vegetables and occasional goats' wool that could be found in Tarth's main market. Every time she came to the city, she insisted on visiting and on buying from as many stalls as possible. This time, her father was with her.

She took him to her favourite stall, which sold a sort of bean stew that they served in bowls and you ate right there. It was delicious and Brienne had been craving it when she left Casterly Rock that morning. She greeted the husband and wife who worked there by name and introduced her father.

"My lady, my lord," Daeron said with a deep bow. Brienne smiled and asked for the stew, asking quickly for some details of their lives and their children. She had visited this stall every time she had come to the market and, because she ate right next to them, she had learned a little of their lives.

"Oh, my mother is sick, my lady, so we are looking after her too. My boy has just started working in the mines to help us out a little," Daeron's wife, Aelsa, said. Brienne furrowed her brow.

"What happened to the boy who you said loved to sword fight?" Brienne asked between mouthfuls. Daeron shrugged.

"We needed the money, milady."

Once Brienne and her father had finished their stews and given the compliments to Daeron and Aelsa, they moved on to a stall that sold vegetables and spoke with the owners there too, and so on and so forth. Between stalls, Brienne's father asked her, "Why did you ask about their boy?"

"I just remembered them mentioning that he loved to sword fight, that he had said that one day he wanted to be as good as Jaime, a knight. I was just sad for a lost dream."

Her father gave her a piercing look. "Brienne, you're about to start a knight training school. You can choose who you would like as your students."

"Even small boys from the back streets of Lannisport?" Brienne asked skeptically. "I don't want us to become a laughing stock."

Lord Selwyn shrugged. "Then teach them to fight well and you won't be."

Brienne smiled uneasily and nodded, wondering whether her father was right.

XXX

By the time Brienne arrived back to the castle, hours later, she was exhausted, her feet aching from the walking and her back crying for her to lie down. She found Jaime also lying down in their rooms.

"Hi, love," she said wearily as she entered. Jaime smiled though he didn't open his eyes.

"Hello, sweetling. How was Lannisport? Did you have the bean stew?"

Brienne grinned and sunk down onto the other side of the bed to Jaime. "Mmhmm," she said as she curled up into his side. He wrapped an arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I want to invite their son to be a knight with us."

"Whose son?" Jaime asked but Brienne was interrupted by a pain racing across her stomach, forcing her to cry out. Jaime was immediately alert. "What is it? Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

Brienne nodded, staring down at her stomach. "Jaime, I think it's starting."

"What?"

"The baby, you idiot! I think the baby is coming," she said, her voice shaking. Jaime gasped, his eyes going wide.

"But the maester said two more weeks! He didn't even tell you to go into confinement yet!"

Brienne smiled at the thought of escaping the horrid duty of confinement but the smile fell as another pain started. "Jaime, go and get the maester and the midwife," she panicked.

Jaime nodded, standing up and hurrying to the door where Brienne heard him ordering the guards to fetch help. She smiled as he returned to the bed and helped her into a more comfortable position, sat up. "Don't leave me," Brienne reminded Jaime, grabbing his hand desperately.

Smiling, Jaime took a seat beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Never, wench.."

XXX

The pain went on for hours. Hours and hours and hours. Jaime did not leave her side. Her father waited outside and she could hear him pacing. She knew that he was nervous of her going through what her mother had, with painful births and children who did not live, but Brienne was strong and Jaime knew that she was going to survive and their child was going to survive.

And so they did.

As the sun came up in the morning, Joanna Lannister of Tarth was born, heir to Casterly Rock and to Tarth, for the moment. Brienne was fighting her exhaustion, even as she cried with their daughter in her arms. Jaime could not stop his tears either. The midwife watched them with soft eyes as she tidied Brienne up below.

Joanna was a big baby, though not as big as Jaime had thought. She was golden-haired and pink-skinned. Her eyes were blue, which Jaime took to mean that she would have Brienne's eyes, until the midwife told him that all babies' eyes start blue and then change, very disappointingly. Jaime wanted all their children to have Brienne's eyes.

"You did so well, wench," Jaime muttered against her head. Brienne laughed wearily.

"Still calling me wench," she said. Jaime grinned and looked at Joanna.

"Always."

"Jaime, we have a baby. Who let us have a baby?"

Jaime could only laugh. "You were quite insistent."

Brienne shook her head stubbornly, never taking her eyes from Joanna. "No, no, it was you that was insistent. You used to rub my stomach after every fuck."

Jaime gasped in mock horror. "Wench, don't swear in front of my daughter!" Brienne glared at him and Jaime only grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "I love you," he reminded her.

"I love you too."

XXX

"So, what are you going to change the name of the castle to?" Sansa asked as she began to tuck into the food that had been delivered to her chambers at Winterfell. Bronn nodded his head, swallowing some of the rich stew. Sansa and Tyrion turned curious eyes upon him.

"Fort Bronn," the ex-sellsword pronounced proudly.

Sansa snorted. Tyrion rolled his eyes. "I suppose you haven't stretched your creative muscle much as a sellsword," Sansa's husband commented. Bronn grinned.

"This way, all the future generations remember my great name."

"They'll share your surname," Tyrion reminded him. Bronn shook his head.

"It's not my bleeding surname, is it? It's Blackwater, like the bay in King's Landing. It's just where I was knighted, nothin' more. But if our bleeding castle has my name? That'll go down in the generations."

"And the sigil?" Sansa asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Does she give you that look in bed?" Bronn asked Tyrion with a smirk. Sansa scowled and Bronn snorted. "Actually, I imagine she gives a tiny fucker like you that scowl more often."

"That's enough, Bronn," Tyrion said, though Sansa could tell from his twitching lips that he had enjoyed the baudy commentary. She didn't really mind it. "What sigil have you chosen?"

"A dwarf."

Sansa choked. "Fuck off," Tyrion said, his mouth agape. Bronn was positively gleeful.

"Why not? The patron dwarf of House Blackwater."

"Fuck off," Tyrion repeated but he was laughing. Sansa looked between her husband and the new Lord of Fort Bronn (once the Dreadfort). "You are a fool, Bronn."

Bronn grinned. "Memorable, though, isn't it? No one is going to forget the dwarf of Fort Bronn."

Just as Sansa opened her mouth to reply, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," she called. One of the maester's assistants entered, his robes flapping as he did.

"Two ravens, my lady, my lords. One from Casterly Rock and one from King's Landing."

Sansa jumped up to take the ravens and to thank the messenger. She threw Jon's missive to Tyrion and opened the one from Jaime and Brienne. She barely read a few words before she squealed.

"She's had the baby!"

Tyrion looked up from Jon's scroll and his serious look turned into a smile. "A boy or a girl?"

"A girl," Sansa said fondly. "A girl." She liked the idea of having a girl. Unbidden, an image of a baby girl of her own came into her mind. She imagined holding her and rocking her and watching her grow up. "Oh, Tyrion, they called her Joanna."

Tyrion froze. "Joanna," he repeated. Sansa met his eyes and nodded.

"Joanna."

Tyrion's solemn face cracked into a small smile. "I'm sure she'll be strong and kind, like her parents." Sansa nodded. "My dear, Jon's news is less exciting."

Sansa swallowed. Tyrion glanced at Bronn but decided to read the letter anyway. By the end, Sansa's throat was tight with tears for her brother, for Daenerys and for Missandei - for Missandei most of all. And her mind went into overdrive.

What did this mean for her brother? And, more importantly, what did this mean for the kingdom? If Daenerys was already making rash decisions that were going to scare away her support, perhaps Northern independance wasn't so far a dream.

Sansa looked at Tyrion and found him watching her in warning. She knew that he knew what she was thinking and she felt guilty for her ambition. This was a sad time and today she would be sad. But, tomorrow and in the next few days, she would start thinking of how she would secure her kingdom.