Jaime laughed a bit drunkenly as he and Tyrion stumbled back into Jaime's chambers, the sun outside already having wished the world goodnight. Though Tyrion had taken Jaime off at lunch time for a few hours of brotherly time, their day had been continually prolonged, as they had drunk more and more ale and Tyrion had wanted to introduce Jaime to more and more of his favourite alehouses.

Upon entering Jaime's chambers, the two stumbled, Tyrion falling into Jaime's back as they discovered their wives, watching them amusedly, Joanna sitting merrily on Sansa's lap. "Good afternoon," Brienne said, eyebrows arched.

Jaime bit his lip to contain his laughter. "It's evening, sweet. Have you been drinking?" Jaime slurred.

"No, but you have," she said and Jaime glanced down at Tyrion before they both burst out in laughter. Brienne pursed her lips and Jaime approached, his legs and arms not quite working as they should. He reached the chaise longue where his lovely wife was sitting and lay down, his head burrowing into her lap and his arms winding around her waist.

"I'm sorry," he spoke to her legs. He glanced up in time to see her share a long-suffering look with Sansa. Chuckling, Jaime sat up and lay his head against her shoulder instead. "Are you okay?"

Brienne tutted. "Sansa and I were just discussing baby names." Jaime's eyes widened.

"But why would we need a baby name?" he said dramatically, glancing at Sansa and Tyrion, who were now sharing one chair, to determine whether or not Brienne had just let the secret out. She was very clumsy with secrets, clearly. Perhaps he would not include her in the secret, next time they found out they were having a baby.

"I've told Sansa, Jaime," Brienne said, her voice amused. Jaime sat up suddenly, scowling at her.

"What happened to keeping it a secret?"

"Keeping what a secret?" Tyrion slurred, his head bouncing up and down on Sansa's shoulder. Jaime rolled his eyes.

"And Cersei called me the stupidest Lannister. Brienne is pregnant, Tyrion."

Tyrion gasped. "Sansa is too!"

Jaime narrowed his eyes. "Yes, we know. She told us."

Tyrion turned to his wife, the same betrayal in his eyes that Jaime had felt a moment ago, upon discovering that Brienne had told Sansa about the baby without him. "You told them?" he said in despair. Jaime chuckled, burrowing his face into Brienne's neck. She swatted him away and Jaime pouted. "This means we're having a baby at the same time, Jaime! Like twins!"

Jaime's eyes widened. "You're right!"

"Okay, that's enough," Brienne said but Jaime could hear that she was finding them funny. "Sansa, do you want to give me my child back and take yours to bed?"

"That means take yourself to bed," Tyrion said wisely to his wife. "Because your child is inside you."

Sansa glanced down at her husband as she stood and passed Joanna back to Brienne. "She's talking about you, Tyrion."

Tyrion gasped as he stood up, putting his hands on his hips. "Because I'm a dwarf? I'll have you know, Brienne, that that is very insulting. Jaime, can you believe your wife is saying this to me?"

"That is very rude, Brienne," Jaime told her and was very disconcerted when she laughed. Sansa was laughing too, which was very confusing for Jaime. Then he watched his brother and goodsister leave, watching Brienne wave at them. Jaime stole Joanna from his wife and leaned back on the sofa, grabbing her hands and making her do funny things, like clap and be a star. "Where are Tyrion and Sansa going? Are they going to get more wine?"

Brienne snorted, standing up. She had very long legs. "No, Jaime, love, I think you've had enough wine." Jaime ignored her, moving his eyes along the curves of her legs. They were very long. He wondered if his legs were as long. Brienne tutted at him and stole his daughter from his very hands. Jaime glared at her, watching with delayed vision as she took Joanna to the little adjoining room that held her little cot. Brienne returned, with her lovely legs, moments later.

"Is she lonely?" Jaime asked, glancing at the door. "Maybe I should sleep in there with her. I don't want her to be lonely."

Brienne gave him a look that had Jaime's pants stirring. "I'll be sending in there to sleep in a moment, Jaime Lannister. I'm not sure I've ever seen you this drunk."

Jaime chuckled, stumbling as he stood up and approached her. "You wouldn't want me in another room, Brienne," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and joining his hand with his stump on the other side. "You'd miss me too much." He placed a kiss like a butterfly on her neck and then repeated it.

"I'm not sure you're up to much right now, Jaime." Jaime gasped in horror. His wife thought he had had too much ale to satisfy her. He was very happy to prove her wrong. With a chuckle, he moved his arms from her waist to under her legs and suddenly she was in his arms. He'd been very surprised to discover he could pick her up a few weeks ago. She was taller than him but he was super strong. He was Jaime fucking Lannister.

She was telling him that he was going to drop her but he wasn't - and he didn't, not until they were by the side of the bed at least. And then he threw her down, leaving her in a lovely position with her legs spread, though the long, curvy, muscly limbs were still covered by her breeches. "Still think I'm not up to much, wench?" he asked, leaning back to pull off his shirt.

Brienne laughed, her pretty blue eyes darkening slightly. Jaime flexed his stomach muscles and Brienne raised her eyebrows, almost in a taunt. Jaime smirked, always happy to meet one of her challenges.

XXX

A maester a few miles away from King's Landing had died less than twenty-four hours ago. Arya had been waiting for just such an opportunity, though she had supposedly sounded very cold when she had said that to Gendry. She'd ignored him and carried on with her plan, though. It was the best plan she had thought of. If she knew what was going on with Daenerys, then she would be able to understand her better. She would know whether or not they should act. Sansa had agreed. Perhaps it was true that women were colder than men, or simply more ambitious. It was certainly true in the cases of Daenerys and Sansa, compared with their husbands. Even Tyrion Lannister would have to bow to the ambition of his wife and Arya's sister.

The skills that she had learned in the House of Black and White had not been lost in her time back on Westeros. She had prepared the maester and then become him, in the way that only the Faceless Men knew how. Joining the troop of maesters that served the queen had been more difficult, though not impossible. She had been sent as a gift from Sansa, a maester from Winterfell that nobody denied. It was not a fool proof plan, but it was temporary and Sansa could send her away if needed, if anyone seemed to be getting suspicious.

Daenerys' meeting with the maesters had not been what Arya had expected. When they had heard that the queen was meeting with her maesters daily, it had been very confusing and neither Arya nor Sansa wanted to risk Jon's wrath by asking him, especially as the meetings with the maesters were supposedly secret and it was only that Sansa had overheard a meeting between Tyrion and Varys that they knew anything about them.

The meeting focussed on Daenerys' baby. Arya had believed that Daenerys was barren. It was the only reason that Jon had agreed for the wedding to go ahead, supposedly. Arya thought it was just a nice reason for Jon to marry the woman he loved. Arya understood that, now that she had married Gendry. If somebody told them now that they were related, that would not change the way she felt about him. Jon had made the only decision he could and it also happened to be a reason that protected the realm. The people were always more likely to accept a man on the throne, so the fact that Daenerys came with a husband who had a better claim to the throne than her was helpful to say the least - although clearly not enough for the awful rebels who had murdered Missandei, the kind handmaiden of the queen.

But, despite Daenerys' supposed barrenness - and Arya did not think that it was a trick; she believed that Daenerys had truly considered herself to be barren - she was pregnant. In Arya's mind, there was no downside to this. The kingdom needed an heir and a baby would show Westeros that she was going to provide for them, in this way and in others. Kingdoms needed an heir to look prosperous and, though there would be some who were squeamish about a nephew and an aunt having a child, they would be few and far between. There was less shared blood than between the siblings who had produced Daenerys and the siblings who had produced her parents. It was not such a strange thing in Westeros, especially in the South among nobles.

"Did she mention how Jon felt?" Sansa asked. They were in her chambers, alone.

"She said that he was happy," Arya said, "though that was all and she gave no details."

Sansa tutted. "And why would she, to her maesters." She nodded. "I think you are right. This can only be a good thing."

Arya nodded. "She asked a lot of questions about the baby's health, but I suppose that that is a normal thing, especially since she lost the baby before."

"Yes, I'm sure," Sansa agreed. "She also has never had a mother to teach her things about childbirth."

"True." Arya considered that. "Perhaps she would like it if you told her that you were pregnant too. That way you could go through it together."

Sansa nodded, raising her brows. "Brienne too."

Arya gasped. "Brienne is pregnant?"

Sansa's eyes widened. "You didn't know?"

"No!"

"Oh." Sansa bit her lip. "Brienne's pregnant."

Arya scowled. "Oh just you wait until I see her. Just because you're her goodsister does not mean she should be sharing things with you before me."

"I think it means exactly that," Sansa said, amused. Arya narrowed her eyes at her and then groaned.

"Bloody hell, you're all three going to be pregnant at the same time."

"Perhaps you should have a baby," Sansa suggested, her tongue between her teeth. Arya flushed. "You did say-"

"I know what I said," Arya snapped. Sansa chuckled, raising her eyebrows. "I'm going to go and shout at Brienne."

Sansa tutted at her, picking up some papers from the table beside her. "Try not to be too harsh. She is pregnant, after all."

Arya nodded slowly. "Perhaps I'll shout at Jaime instead."

"Oh, by all means," Sansa agreed with a nod.

XXX

Arya left with her nose in the air, Sansa noticed with amusement. It had been an accident, revealing Brienne's pregnancy to her sister, but Sansa was sure that Brienne would not mind. She was as close to Arya as she was to Sansa and it would only be a lack of time or effort that Brienne had not told Arya yet. And Arya's reaction had been very amusing. There was nothing Sansa enjoyed more than when her sister reacted like a human being. Most of the time, she was calm and collected, with her perfect stoicism. When she was angry or happy or showed any emotion whatsoever, Sansa appreciated it. It was why she liked seeing her with Gendry so much.

"So, were you going to tell me that you were spying on Daenerys?" came her husband's voice from the door that connected her chambers and solar. Sansa froze. Her heart had been light after her conversation with Arya but things had been tense between her and Tyrion lately, despite their joy at having a baby. Sansa was worried about his split loyalties, in these fractious times, and Tyrion did not like the way that Sansa always assumed the worst of Daenerys, which was, admittedly, a bad habit of Sansa's.

Sansa turned to see that her husband was angry, his face red and his eyes bulging more than normal. Swallowing, she said, "I'm sorry."

"For spying or for lying about it?"

Sansa closed her eyes. "For not telling you about it."

"Was it your idea or Arya's?" Tyrion asked, his voice level. Sansa almost wished he would shout, though she knew that he did not like to, especially not at her. He believed things could be solved with a diplomatic tone. It was an idea that Sansa shared, for politics, but she wished that he would show a little more passion with her. It only reinforced the idea that he saw their relationship as political and nothing more. Her stomach squirmed. It was these anxieties that were causing tension with her relationship with Tyrion, rather than anything else. If she felt sure of their relationship, she would be able to discuss things with him.

"It was Arya's idea. She has a special skill set that I had not considered using," Sansa said quietly.

"And I suppose you won't tell me what that is, either."

His voice was bitter. Sansa felt tears leap to her eyes, an all too common occurrence during her pregnancy. "I'd tell you if I thought you would be on my side," she cried, abandoning her low tones.

Tyrion almost fell backwards, stumbling, his eyes widening. "Whose side would I be on?" he demanded. "You're my wife. You're carrying my child, for Seven's sake, Sansa!"

Sansa scowled. "I am your wife but Daenerys is your queen. Your loyalty is to her."

"Of course my loyalty is to her. Yours should be too," he hissed.

Sansa groaned. "Can you see why I keep secrets?"

"No!" he shouted. Sansa blinked. "My loyalty is to her as my queen, but I love you. I will always choose you."

Each time, he overemphasised the word you. Sansa's shoulders fell. She had not even noticed that they were so close to her ears. "You love me," she repeated.

Tyrion exhaled. "Of course I love you."

Sansa was silent for a moment, her eyes wide and her lips parted. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you."

"Sansa, I hate that you make these plans and plots without me. If you talk to me, we can find the answer together."

"I thought you would tell me that we should ignore it."

Tyrion shook his head. "If you thought we should look into something, I would have agreed and, then, when we knew more, we could reevaluate together."

Sansa bit her lip. "We can do that now," she suggested. "Arya can tell both of us what she learns."

Tyrion sighed. "I'm not sure how I feel about spying on her."

"Lord Varys does," Sansa said defensively, "and you don't shout at him."

"He's not my wife, Sansa." Sansa's lips twitched. "I'm not so worried about Varys getting his head chopped off, though, admittedly, it would not be ideal."

Sansa swallowed. "Arya is good at what she does."

"Sansa, it is too much of a risk."

"If we use Arya, we have somebody that we trust entirely. We need not share what we know with anybody, provided it comes back well. And Arya can protect her, in case of any attacks or false advice from other maesters."

Tyrion sank down onto one of their chairs. "I suppose that that is true." Sansa nodded. She moved from where she was sitting to kneel beside Tyrion.

"I hope I am wrong," Sansa said honestly. "She is carrying my niece or nephew. I promise that I want to protect her."

"Just not necessarily keep her on the throne."

Sansa shook her head. "I'm not sure what I want, Tyrion, except to return to the North and have our baby safely."

Tyrion gave her a grim smile. "That's what I want too, Sansa."

"I just have to make sure that she is doing the right thing first, for the North."

Tyrion swallowed obviously. "Okay, Sansa. For now, I'll go along with this, for her protection."

"For the realms' protection," Sansa added. Tyrion nodded wearily. Sansa reached up and cupped his cheek. "By the way, Tyrion," she said slowly, "I love you too." Tyrion smiled widely. "I should have told you that a long time ago but I was scared."

"Me too," Tyrion admitted, "but we don't need to be scared anymore. We have each other, above everything else."

Sansa nodded, extending her legs on her knees to press her head against his. It was everything she wanted. "Above everything else."