Sansa's hands shook as she thought about where she was headed. Tyrion and Bronn had disappeared into an inn about an hour ago, leaving Sansa in the tent, where she wanted to rest. Tyrion had kissed her goodbye and Bronn had made gagging noises, as though they had not heard him with Alys Karstark in his tent last night. As soon as they had left, Sansa had darted out of her tent and into town, taking a longer route to avoid Tyrion and Bronn's chosen inn.
The little town they had stopped by, on their journey to King's Landing, was built up enough that they had their own midwife, rather than a woman who travelled from nearby towns to help, though they did not have a maester. And Sansa had left Winterfell's maester at Winterfell, with Bran, while she and Tyrion, and their little court, travelled down to King's Landing, for the official coronation of Queen Daenerys and King Jon of Westeros.
The midwife had not been difficult to find. Sansa had asked at the market and they had known immediately. Sansa knocked at the door. She thought that it might have been open but she didn't want to be rude.
A woman, large and homely, came to the door almost immediately. She groaned at the sight of Sansa. "Who is it? Daenie or Phylea?" Sansa only blinked. "Come on, lass, I'll get my things if you just tell me who's giving birth."
"Oh, no," Sansa stammered. The midwife quirked an eyebrow. "I actually wondered if you would be able to tell me if I'm pregnant."
Narrowing her eyes, the midwife said, "Alright, lass. I'd say you were from the big house only you've got a posh Northern accent rather than posh Crownlands." The big house, Sansa assumed, was the Darneland home at the top of the hill, not really a big house in comparison to many, but big when compared to the houses in the village. "Come in, come in, let's have a look at you."
There was no vestibule. The first room was the only room, a small room that held a chaise longue, a kitchen and a table. In the corner, there was a circular staircase, leading up to what Sansa assumed was a bedroom. "Not fancy like your place?" the midwife sneered.
"Sorry," Sansa said awkwardly.
The midwife tutted. "Sit on the sofa, there, lass," she said, nodding at the chaise longue. Sansa nodded and sat down, wondering what made it a sofa rather than a chaise longue. She supposed it had two arms like an armchair. She could see the benefits of that. There was nothing worse than being on the armless end of a chaise longue. "Now, when was your last moonblood?"
"Six weeks ago," Sansa said hurriedly. The midwife whistled.
"Well, I'd say you're pregnant. Any sickness?"
Sansa nodded. "But we did come down by boat," she added. The midwife nodded slowly.
"Okay, what about your teats? Are they sore?" Sansa nodded. "And any odd cravings?"
"I've gone off lemon cakes," Sansa blurted. The midwife smirked.
"That must have been difficult for you, lass," she said. Sansa pursed her lips at the disrespect. If she had not been so desperate to know, she might have left. "Right, well, I think you're pregnant, but not far. Six weeks is quite early. I assume this is your first from your lovely figure, so I want to warn you that many women lose their babies before three months gone."
Sansa nodded, biting her lip. "Is there anything I shouldn't be doing?"
"Past eight months, don't ride, and don't ride at all if you're not confident. Don't eat fish and don't take any moontea. It's bad for the babe."
Sansa had not been taking it anyway but she mentally noted it. In the past, she had used it to sleep easier. "And can I lie with my husband?" she asked quietly.
The midwife smirked. "You can, lass, as much as you'd like."
Blushing, Sansa stood and pulled her purse from her side. She pulled out three gold coins and handed them to the obviously shocked woman. "Thank you for your help."
The woman seemed too shocked to move, so Sansa left the coins on the side of the sofa and saw herself out, not stopping until she had been walking for five minutes and was outside Tyrion's inn. Grinning, she placed her hand on her stomach. A baby. They were having a baby.
Entering the inn, Sansa was less than impressed by the sight of a woman on Bronn's lap and another sitting very close to Tyrion, stroking his hand. She strode over and quirked a brow at her surprised husband. "Sansa," he cried and she thought she heard relief in his voice. Close up, she could see his discomfort with the whore next to him.
"My husband has no need of whores, thank you," Sansa said, pursing her lips at the blonde woman who walked off in a huff. Shooting a disappointed look at Bronn, Sansa shoved Tyrion along the seat so that she could sit next to him. A barmaid brought over an ale for her that she sipped and then abandoned.
"What are you doing here, Sansa?" Tyrion asked.
"Saving you from whores, apparently," she said, amused. Tyrion rolled his eyes and Sansa grinned. "I need to tell you something." Tyrion nodded at her to continue and Sansa decided she would like to tell her child that she told his father about him in an inn. It would be a funny story for him. She bent down to Tyrion's ear and said, "I'm pregnant."
Tyrion's gasp and the startled look on his face made Sansa happier than she had imagined. A smile spread across his face. "Truly?"
"No, I'm lying," Sansa said dryly. Tyrion gave her an unamused look and, letting out an exasperated laugh, Sansa said, "Yes, Tyrion, truly."
Tyrion let out a little laugh of joy, grabbing her hand and placing a smacking kiss on it. "Barmaid!" he called and the barmaid came over. "Another for everyone here and the very best bottle of red wine that you have for myself and my wife."
Bronn pulled his face away from the teats of the whore on his lap. "What's going on?" he asked curiously.
"Sansa is pregnant," Tyrion said in a stage whisper. Gasping, Sansa hit her husband's chest.
"Well, at least we know you're not shooting blanks," was Bronn's only comment before he returned his attention to his whore.
The barmaid arrived with the wine and poured Sansa and Tyrion a glass each. Tyrion raised his own up to Sansa. "To our baby and my wonderful wife who is carrying it," he said.
Smiling, Sansa returned, "To our baby and my wonderful husband who put it there!" Tyrion laughed aloud and drank deeply from his goblet. They were days away from King's Landing and, already, their trip had been made. This news was even more exciting than the prospect of seeing Jaime and Brienne and, most importantly, Joanna. Sansa and Tyrion were going to be a family, filled with love.
Glancing at her husband, Sansa felt her heart fill to bursting. He had been the right choice, all those months ago.
XXX
Jaime and Brienne arrived into the Red Keep with much trepidation. Jaime had so many terrible memories there. It was a difficult place to be. It didn't feel so long since Addam had killed Cersei, right in front of their eyes, nor even since he was living here, under Cersei's thumb. Two years had not even passed since then.
But many events had passed. Jaime and Brienne could hardly deny that things were going well in the Westerlands since Cersei's fall. Crops were growing, people were working and bringing money into the economy and children were being born every day. The Westerlands were becoming an extremely prosperous area of Westeros. Jaime was sure that it had started when Joanna was born, five months ago, but it was more likely due to the lack of money-stealing from the Westerlands.
For years, all of the Westerlands' money had gone straight to the crown. Now, though the crown itself was struggling, they had to pay a set amount of money and the rest was allowed to be invested into their own area. Jaime and Brienne had even sent some to the North, to help the difficult situation there, because the Westerlands were recovering so well.
There were certainly problems, like the empty gold mines and some resentment that the Lannisters had lost their control over the crown, but it was minor. The iron mines were being opened up fully for the first time since before Jaime's grandfather's time and they were one of the only areas of Westeros whose crops had come in almost fully. Every kingdom was buying their food.
And, now, they were in King's Landing, for the coronation, together with their daughter, representing the prosperity of the Westerlands. For the first time, Jaime was really and truly proud of his birthplace.
The ride here with Joanna had not been as easy as riding alone. Some of the time, she sat with her nanny in the carriage, or strapped to Brienne or Jaime's chests while they rode, because she was teething and fussy and her nanny was just not acceptable when she could have her parents, according to her little five-month-old mind. Jaime didn't mind riding with her, though he was aware of every step of the horse, aware that if he fell, he would seriously injure his beautiful child.
And she was so beautiful. Jaime loved Joanna more than he could have possibly imagined. She was everything he had ever wanted. She was his delight. Returning to the castle after being out all day to find his wife and his daughter waiting for him was only comparable to spending the day with his daughter and greeting his wife at the door, after she had been out, looking after the people.
They made the perfect team, all three of them, and the people actually cheered for them when they went by. The people of Lannisport loved Joanna. They sent gifts for her birth. When they visited the city, they received more things, for free, just because they wanted Joanna to have their things. Jaime understood the way they felt. Joanna was perfection. He wanted to give her the world too.
"Jaime!"
The sound of his brother approaching was the icing on the cake. He could ignore the horrible surrounding as long as he had his family around him: his wife, his daughter, his brother and his goodsister. His relationship with Sansa was hit and miss for obvious reasons but he definitely saw a smile on her face when she saw him.
Jaime sank to the ground to embrace his brother and then stood again to give Sansa an awkward hug that he was not sure was wanted nor appreciated. But she was a member of his family now.
"Brienne has just gone to find a chamberpot-" Jaime started but cut himself off when Brienne returned, Joanna in her arms. "And here she is!"
"Brienne!" Sansa cried and then the two of them were embracing, Joanna giggling between them, for once smiling and not crying because of her teeth. The second Brienne pulled away, Sansa stole Joanna into her arms to cuddle her. "Oh, she's beautiful. Tyrion, come here," she said, though she didn't take her eyes off Joanna. Jaime watched as Sansa bobbed down and passed Tyrion his niece.
Brienne came close to Jaime, taking his hand in hers. He gave her an inquisitive look and she shook her head. Jaime nearly grinned but received a pinch on the hand from his wife. Keeping his face straight, he turned to his brother, who was staring at Joanna as though she were the most precious thing on earth, which, of course, she was. Jaime noticed the look that Sansa and Tyrion were sharing and wondered how long it would be before they were having one themselves.
Jaime wondered whether he would beat them there for a second time. He received another pinch on the back of his hand, as though his wife could read his mind. It wouldn't surprise him. If anyone could, it would be Brienne.
A few moments later, when Sansa finally, reluctantly, returned Joanna to Brienne's arms, they made their way to the main hall, where they had been asked to present themselves as soon as they arrived. The Red Keep was different from how Jaime remembered it. Most of the tapestries had come down and there were no portraits that he could see. There used to be a portrait of Cersei and Robert on every wall, or of one of the children. Now, the walls were plain. Jaime supposed that Daenerys and Jon had more important things on their minds than the decor of the palace.
The great hall itself was well-decorated. There was a Targaryen banner at the back of the hall, behind the twin thrones. Jaime was impressed by how quickly they had replaced the Iron Throne with two matching silver thrones. It made for a much less intimidating throne room, almost unrecognisable from the one where Jaime had killed the Mad King and served Robert - Cersei - for years. It was a good change.
Whatever had been going on stopped as they entered, the room going silent as Daenerys rose from her throne, quickly followed by Jon. She approached them and took Sansa and Brienne into her arms first, while Jon shook Jaime and Tyrion's hands. "It is truly wonderful to see you here," Daenerys said. Her voice carried across the throne room. "And this must be Joanna," she said more quietly. Jaime smiled when Daenerys took Joanna's hand into hers, as though she were shaking it. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Joanna. Named for your mother?" Daenerys said, directing it at Jaime.
Jaime knew that this was an important moment, the first time in the eyes of the public that Daenerys was publically speaking with Jaime, essentially pardoning him for the second time. "Yes, my mother."
"What a precious gift for her," Daenerys said with a kind smile. Jaime was reminded of the reason that the people had made her queen. "Welcome to court," she said, inclining her head to Jaime.
"Thank you, your grace," Jaime said, bowing his head deeper than Daenerys had. Brienne reached for Jaime's hand and took it, as Daenerys and Jon returned to their thrones and Brienne, Jaime, Sansa, Tyrion and Joanna became just five more members of the crowd who had come for an audience with the new king and queen.
XXX
The day of the coronation dawned brightly. It was a symbolic ceremony, not really officially bringing more than Daenerys and Jon living in the Red Keep brought. But it was important, as important as the march through King's Landing on the day that they had won the war, to show the public that they were here, that this was their city, and that they were going nowhere.
Brienne dressed herself in a different version of the pants-dress that she wore to their wedding. "You look fantastic," Jaime growled. Brienne rolled her eyes and passed Joanna to Jaime.
"Head out of the gutter, Lannister. I need to put my shoes on."
Jaime waggled his eyebrows at his daughter and wandered over to the door. "Are you excited to watch the queen, Joanna?" Jaime asked.
Joanna clapped her chubby little hands together and Jaime did a quiet sort of cheer. He looked away from Joanna to find his wife watching him with interest.
"You look good," she said. "Those breeches are very tight."
"They could be tighter," Jaime said with a wink. Brienne rolled her eyes. "Do you think I'll be beating off all the women at the coronation?"
Brienne pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows. "Not that you'd want that, of course," Brienne said.
Jaime laughed and got close to his wife, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Of course not." Brienne hummed at him and he kissed her again, on the lips this time. "I have all the girls I want right here," he said, giving Joanna's cheek one final kiss. "Maybe I'm wearing tight breeches because I want you to think I look good, just like you're wearing that dress."
"Or maybe you're wearing tight breeches because this is the first time you've not been stressed in twenty years and you're getting fat."
Jaime gasped in horror, stepping away from his wife. "What are you saying, wench?"
Brienne chuckled. "Nothing, I love you."
Jaime narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I love you too, even if you get fat." Brienne patted his stomach on the way to the door and Jaime could only laugh. "When you get fat," Jaime added under his breath and received an amused glare from his wife as she opened the door and headed out.
They met Sansa and Tyrion along the corridor, smiling at each other over something. "You two look mushy," Jaime commented as they reached them. Turning to his wife, he said, "You used to look at me like that. Now you just think I'm fat." Brienne didn't look exasperated, only amused.
"You are just lying around all day, eating. The only exercise you're getting is fucking your wife," Tyrion commented crudely. That made Brienne's face exasperated.
"That's not true! I'm running the knight training school." Brienne scoffed and Jaime turned to look at her, arching an eyebrow. "What?"
"You stand around giving criticism and witty comments."
Sansa barked out a laugh. "That sounds like Jaime." Jaime shot her a glare.
"Well, Joanna, I think we will go to this coronation alone," Jaime said to his daughter and started walking away, ignoring the laughter that came from behind him.
They caught up to him, Brienne wrapping an arm around Jaime's waist and kissing his cheek. Jaime laughed and shifted Joanna in his arms. It was not easy holding her with only one hand and it had taken some time to not feel as though he were going to drop her at any moment.
The four of them took one carriage to the Sept, where Jon had promised them good seats to see the coronation, even Joanna, who Brienne was slightly worried about crying all the way through the ceremony. Jaime didn't think Daenerys would take it as a personal insult if she did. She had turned into the kind, beautous queen rather than the war commander. All good monarchs were both, in Jaime's opinion. And, thus far, he had not seen anything particularly Mad King from her, though he didn't think he'd ever stop looking.
They reached the sept after a while. There was a lot of traffic because of the people lining the streets ready to see Jon and Daenerys return to the Red Keep afterwards, but they arrived before most people and were escorted to their seats, in pride of place. Varys sat next to them.
"Ah, Lady Sansa," Varys greeted. Brienne and Jaime shared a look at the lack of greeting to them, Brienne laughing. Jaime settled Joanna on his lap and then sneaked a hand across to caress Brienne's stomach, half-listening to Varys' conversation, supplying Sansa with compliments and hinting about whether or not she might be pregnant mixed in with general comments about the North. Jaime wondered whether Varys knew something that he did not.
Brienne batted Jaime's hand away and Jaime shared a little smile with her. He was about to open his mouth to speak when the orchestra started up to announce the queen's arrival. Jaime glanced down to see that Joanna was drifting away on his knee. He was glad - she might miss the coronation but she wouldn't spend the whole time crying, at least.
Daenerys came in first, looking respendent. Jaime glanced to the side to see Sansa watching her carefully. He furrowed his brow slightly and then turned his head back to see Jon enter, looking uncomfortable with the display of power and wealth. Jaime briefly wondered how he would have felt if he had claimed the throne, all those years ago. He never would have met and loved Brienne. He would have been like Jon, wondering what on earth he was doing there, except without a wife who loved him. Jaime nearly shuddered from the thought.
The coronation went off without a hitch. Jaime felt only the slightest misapprehension as the crown was placed on Dany's head, remembering with a jolt the mad look in her father's eyes after he saw fire. Jaime was sure that Dany did not share that mad proclivity. If she did, Jaime hoped that Jon would tell Sansa if that happened. And then Sansa would tell Brienne and then she would tell Jaime - maybe, that was where the link was tenuous because Brienne betraying Sansa was unlikely - and then Jaime would do - he would do something.
Maybe he'd speak to Arya. If it came to it, he'd talk to Arya. He'd talk to a lot of people. But it was not going to come to it. Because Daenerys, with Jon by her side, was going to do good things and she was not her father.
Everything was going to be fine and Jaime trusted it. They were in peace. He was peaceful - he was putting on weight! Everything was good. He hoped.
