Seven months into the Reign of King Jon.
...
"I want him."
It's Arya saying it that makes him look up from the table in shock. He glances at his wife whose eyebrows have all but dissapeared into the fallen locks of hair against her forehead. His own brow furrows, she looks disheveled, she never looks disheveled. Not in public anyway.
"You want him?" Jon snorts. "For what?!"
"He can be my sworn sword." She grins wickedly. "You fear he can't offer adequate protection." She swings her hand towards the Master of Coin and Davos grimaces. "Leaving out the fact that he's saved our arses in combat more recently and frequently than you ha-."
"Arya.." Jon sighs.
"Too much truth? So very sorry, Your Grace." Jamie grins trying to cover its with his stump. He loves how when she says 'Your Grace' it somehow sounds like a jape. He looks at Brienne wanting to gage her reaction, but she's looking at the table. This worries her far more than it does him, his possible reinstatement to the Kings Guard.
"I don't need protection." She spits out the word. "I would; however, appreciate an extra set of eyes and ears." She looks at Jaime and he nods at her. "I'm rather inexperienced for a King's Hand and I would like someone to provide me council."
"And you'd like his?" Her brother blinks at her.
"Yes." She smirks. "I think I would." She looks at Brienne, but again she seems to be someplace else. "My mother did make him swear an oath to protect me. It's kind of full circle."
Jon shrugs before turning back to the other man.
"What say you, Ser Jaime?"
"It would be my honor." He graces Arya with a smile. "As long as you promise not to take my face off if i shall die in your service." Arya snorts with laughter and Jon grimaces. "I don't want it rolled up in your little satchel."
"Can we not?" Brienne looks white when he looks at her, she brings her hand up to her lips.
"Are you alright?" Jaime winces at her face and all eyes turn to look at the Lord Commander.
"Yes, of course, I'm fine." She waves her hand at him like he's ridiculous.
"You do look a bit pale, Ser." Davos says softly.
"You're not pregnant are you?" Arya asks loudly. "That would be inconvenient."
Brienne's eyes go wide and a slow grin of realization slides across Jaime's mouth.
"No." His wife shouts before her eyebrows furrow.
"You haven't asked me for Moon Tea since Winterfell." Arya announces sharply, looking at Samwell who raises his hands in silent surrender.
'I'm sorry I was busy keeping my husband alive, caring for my son and attempting to form an adequate Kings Gaurd with the scraps left behind after a fiery war."
"Celiabate the whole time I'm sure." Arya nods sharply. Jaime snorts, he's going to like being her sworn guard.
"Can we not discuss this here?" His wife hisses.
"This is the best damn small council meeting I've ever been to." Jaime chuckles, looking at the King who covers his face.
"You're not helping!" His wife whines.
"We haven't exactly been careful." He reminds her, she looks off over his head.
"Sam would you like to advise me on the policy tradition involved when one's Lord Commander finds themselves with child?" Jon groans sarcastically. His Grand Maester's mouth opens and closes like a fish. Arya laughs out loud.
"If you all could be quiet, my wife and I are counting moons." Jaime murmurs.
"Seven. Fucking. Hell's." Brienne whispers suddenly.
"Seems she's a faster counter than you." Arya japes.
Jaime licks his lips and holds up his stump.
"She's got more fingers." He's walking across the room to her side now. "If you'll excuse us for just a few moments, Your Grace."
"Take your time. We'll start lunch." Jon sighs heavily, gesturing at the servant girl in the doorway.
Jaime grasps her arm, moving her from the table and out of the room.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
"Jaime." She's wide eyed and awestruck and Jaime wonders if she's ever been more beautiful. "I can't-. We can't-."
"Why not?" He asks her simply.
"I'm the Lord Commander." She tells him, as if he hadn't yet realized.
"You may need to step back from some of those demands." He nods.
"I should resign." She breathes.
"Why on earth would you do that?" His face wrinkles.
"We're having a child!" She reminds him, her face paling again.
"We already have a child." He lifts and eyebrow. "It hasn't really been a problem has it?"
She blinks at him and shakes her head, still looking like she might cry. A slight sympathetic smile softens his face and she sighs. Jaime wraps his hand around the base of her skull and kisses her forehead. Her hand lands softly against his vest.
"Are you alright?"
"I feel like shit." She tells him, pressing her face into his shoulder.
"Why didn't you say something?" He chuckles, stroking his thumb across the nape of her neck.
"I thought I was just ill." She whines again. "Not.. this."
"Pregnant." Jaime coaxes. "Say it."
"Jaime." She sighs into him.
"Try it out." His tone is light, almost teasing.
"With child.' She chooses and he can feel her words against his throat. He pulls back gently.
"Is that so awful?' His eyes are shiny with something that makes her heart beat faster.
"No." She whispers and he kisses her.
…..
"If I may, Your Grace." Jaime asks softly at his return. "Borrow the Grand Maester."
Jon nods and Sam rises, spotting Brienne sulking, blush red in the doorway. Jaime remains for a second looking at Arya and then back to Jon.
"You belong on this King's Guard more than anyone." Jon relents. "Not sure there would even be a King to guard without you."
"You're too kind, Your Grace." He mumbles.
"If Arya wants you, she's gotten you."
"Thank you, Your Grace." He looks at his new sworn charge. She's smirking back.
"Ser Jaime if you will accompany me, I think the Grand Maester and I may need your help arranging things to accommodate the recent developments in the Gaurd."
"I'd like nothing more, My Lady." He says cheekily.
"Arya is fine." She says with faked sharpness.
"As you wish, Arya." .