A/N: New chapter for you all! I am hopeful that you will all enjoy this one!
Guest: Thank you very much!
unnamed visitor: As always, thank you! Glad you enjoyed the chapter, the things you're waiting on will be happening over the next few chapters - so not long to wait! I'm sure Ned and Cat will meet their new grandson at some point, and they will learn about Amy soon enough. Haha, glad you picked up on the chemistry, there will be more from Jon and Dorne in the coming chapters. I won't be doing a Karenza POV, but there will be a glimpse of her in this chapter. Thank you again, hope you enjoy this one!
Guest: Thank you!
Boramir: Thank you! No, the Tyrells don't do they? I think Willas is smart enough to cut his losses, hopefully with him now lord they can perhaps try and establish a sense of honour. Glad you liked Amy telling her parents, and you may well have hit the nail on the head with Steffon's gift to Robb. As for you suggestions about the Hand, I agree with what you're saying. Tyrion is the most likely option, given the Northerners will not want to leave home. It's something I will have to ponder a little more, but it definitely makes sense.
Right-ho folks, on we go!
:)
Waiting
Robb was slightly confused as to why the courtyard seemed so quiet on his arrival outside the Red Keep, frowning slightly as he dismounted his horse. It was the middle of the afternoon and the place seemed almost deserted aside from the guards. Vaguely he wondered if Steffon had decided to bring forward the execution of Renly and the treacherous Tyrells. He subconsciously placed his hand on the hilt of his sword as he took the steps up to the keep. The doors were open as usual, but the entrance hall was near deserted. He caught sight of a squire and called him over, the young man bowing courteously for him before looking at him expectantly. "Can I help you my lord?" he asked.
"It may be a foolish question, but the keep seems rather deserted, do you happen to know if the queen is in her quarters?" Robb asked him, and the squire looked a little apprehensive. "I am sorry, my lord. The queen will be in the sept, it is the prince's naming ceremony," he told Robb awkwardly. "I see, of course, thank you – I will wait for her to return," Robb said, and the squire bowed to him before Robb made his way towards the stairs. He was slightly disappointed that he had not arrived early enough to attend his nephew's naming ceremony, but he knew that such plans could not be changed just for him. They had expected to arrive the day before, but bad weather had hindered progress somewhat. Robb supposed he would just have to wait, making his way along the hallways until he came to Sansa's quarters.
There were no guards around, so he let himself in to wait, feeling rather self-conscious as he wondered what to do with himself. He had written to Amy the night before, and he had written home to Winterfell. A sigh left him as he sat himself down on one of the sofas, his eyes scanning the room for some inspiration. They fell on a bookshelf in the end, and he thought he may as well try and find something to occupy himself with until they returned to the keep. He found a book about the Stormlands, thinking it was apt, and so pulled it from the shelf and retreated back to the sofa. He made himself comfortable against the cushions, before opening the book and intending to try and lose himself for a while.
It was a good hour before he heard the murmur of voices and movement growing louder, and he sat up straighter, closing the book with a snap and laying it to the side. The door opened in the next moment, and he stood up. Sansa came through first, and he grinned at her, seeing her blink stupidly at him for a moment before she rushed at him. "Robb! Gods! If we had known you would be here today then we would have delayed going to the Sept for a while!" she exclaimed, and he laughed lightly, gathering her into a tight embrace. "You look well," he complimented her when they broke apart, "and don't worry about the naming ceremony, I assume I have not missed the feast."
"No, you have arrived in time for that," Steffon said teasingly, his good-brother laying his hands on Sansa's shoulders for a moment before he skirted round her to face Robb. "Thank you, for what you've done," Steffon said sincerely, and Robb nodded his head. "You're most welcome," he replied, to which Steffon grinned. "You will be rewarded," his good-brother promised him, and he raised his brows slightly in expectation. "He has been keeping us all in suspense with this," Sansa told him with a roll of her eyes, and Robb grinned. "Well I don't mind toying with you a moment longer, where is my nephew?" Robb asked her.
"My mother has taken him to the nursery, to give Sansa a moment of peace to change her dress before the feast," it was Steffon who answered him. "My darling son decided to be sick on me halfway through," Sansa said irritably, and Robb bit back a laugh. "I will not be long," she continued, "I'm sure you two can amuse yourselves a moment, and then I will take Robb to meet his nephew before the feast." Steffon voiced his agreement, and Robb averted his eyes slightly as they kissed. Sansa moved away into her bedchamber then, and Robb looked expectantly at his good-brother. "So?" he said. "This reward, I do hope it's a good one," his tone was teasing, and Steffon grinned at him.
"Renly is dealt with," Steffon said, "the treachery of the Tyrells has been uncovered, and my Uncle Stannis is bringing the Stormlands to order. There is still the problem of the Targaryen, but there is little you can do to help us with that." Robb frowned slightly, wondering what exactly Steffon was trying to tell him. "In short, Robb. I know you promised me a year, and I appreciate that, but I also know that you would be happy to go back to the North tomorrow. So that is my gift to you. Go and get your wife and son from the Rock, and then go home. It's where you want to be."
"Thank you," Robb said sincerely, and Steffon nodded his head. They both seemed to hesitate slightly before stepping forward and embracing tightly like brothers. "Oh don't tell me I've missed it!" Sansa's exasperated voice had them breaking apart. "Did you bestow his gift? What is it?" she asked almost despairingly, and Robb and Steffon both laughed at her tone. "Steffon has released me from the council, once I collect Amy and Aedan from the Rock we are going home," Robb couldn't help the wide smile stretching across his face. "I'm so pleased," Sansa said, stepping closer to them, "I will miss having you here of course, but it isn't your place, you are far too much of a Northman."
"I will take that as a compliment," Robb said drily, and his sister giggled slightly. "Right," Steffon clapped his hands together, "I think it high time you met you nephew, and then, we have some serious feasting to be getting on with!"
Lanette shifted uncomfortably against the cushions, trying to find a position that didn't make every inch of her body ache. Amy looked at her sympathetically from her armchair opposite, and she managed a smile for her. Her daughter knew all too well what this felt like, and she would be going through it again soon enough. Only this time she was carrying two babies, and Lanette did not envy what was to come for her one bit. She decided against voicing that though, knowing how thrilled Amy was now that she had started getting her head around it. A light knock came on the door, and Amy called for whoever it was to come in.
Bran appeared in the next moment, leading in a serving girl who was carrying a tray of tea, and another who had a plate of assorted foods for their luncheon. Lanette watched in amusement as Bran directed them to place the trays on the low table between her and Amy, her daughter had a smile on her face too as she watched him. Bran was a proper little squire now, and so very grown up. He did falter a little as Aedan shouted noisily in his direction, but he managed to retain his composure and show the serving girls out with thanks before closing the door behind them. "Would you join us Bran?" Lanette asked him, "As kin rather than a squire," she added, and he grinned at her. "Thank you, my lady," he said happily, moving at once to sit himself down on the floor next to his nephew. Aedan seemed happy at his new company, grinning widely and exclaiming loudly up at his uncle.
Lanette shared and amused glance with Amy before another knock came at the door. Again Amy called for them to come in, and this time Theon appeared. "Luncheon, excellent, I'm starving," Theon rubbed his hands together before grabbing a fistful of blueberries and pouring them into his mouth. "Join us Theon, please, help yourself," Amy said sarcastically, but Theon merely grinned at her and dropped down into the chair next to hers. "Don't mind if I do," he said, leaning forward to grab another handful of berries. "Excuse him mother, he never was taught any manners," Amy said irritably, narrowing her eyes in Theon's direction. Lanette merely smiled widely, Amy may appear annoyed, but she had seen herself how close her daughter was with Theon. She thought it good for her to have a friend at her side in Robb's absence, and Theon winding her up was his own way of keeping her mind from Robb.
"Grown men need their bellies filling Amy," Lanette smiled, and her daughter huffed in response. "Don't you start, it is bad enough having to deal with him every day," she said, jerking her head towards Theon who was still stuffing his face. Aedan seemed to notice food was on hand then, fixing his big blue eyes on Theon for a long moment before shouting loudly at him. "You tell him Aedan," Amy commented, and Theon scowled at the baby. He grabbed a few more berries then and held them just out of Aedan's reach, which her grandson did not take well to at all, waving his fists in the air and exclaiming even more loudly. "You will have half the keep coming to see what's wrong, just give him some berries," Amy said in an exasperated manner.
Theon obliged, dropping his hand lower and allowing Aedan to eat from his palm. "Brilliant, he's dribbled all over me," he complained, and Lanette bit back a laugh. "Don't feed him like a dog then," Amy said pointedly, and Theon rolled his eyes. "Do you want to get yourself some food Bran, before those two polish it off between them?" Lanette asked, as Aedan guzzled down even more. "Only if you're sure my lady, you and Amy haven't had any yet," Bran said.
"And I suppose your mother taught you to put ladies first," Amy said with a smirk, and Bran grinned. "She did indeed," Bran agreed with her, and Lanette smiled again. "You go ahead Bran, I am not very hungry this afternoon," Lanette urged him, and he looked towards Amy expectantly at her words. "I'm fine Bran," she said, and Lanette could guess well enough that she was feeling nauseous. She had been the same with Aedan, not able to keep much at all down until after the third moon passed. She knew Amy was served well by the tea Robb had acquired last time, but it didn't seem to be having quite the same effect with her second pregnancy. She was pulled from thoughts of her daughter by a twinge in her stomach, and she rubbed at the spot, inhaling sharply.
"Are you alright mother?" Amy was asking her at once. "Fine," Lanette soothed her, "the baby has been rather lively today that's all. I think I might take a turn about the room and stretch my legs a little bit." Amy nodded at that, but Lanette could still see the concern in her eyes. It was the same look Jaime fixed her with whenever the baby would kick her ribs and make her wince. He seemed to have forgotten that Amy had done exactly the same thing all those years ago. She knew well enough that everyone's fears were piqued even higher this time around though. A letter seemed to arrive from Tywin every other day, constantly asking after her health and making sure she had absolutely everything. He had even offered to send the best Maesters from the Capitol but she had declined politely. The Maester here has served her perfectly well last time, and she had every faith that he would do so again.
She walked slowly to the window, looking out over the view of the sea and sighing slightly in satisfaction. It soon turned to a gasp though, as a large pain stabbed through her, accompanied almost instantly by water trickling down her legs. "Oh Gods," she managed, clutching at her stomach. "Bran," Amy said calmly from behind her, "go and fetch the Maester, and then find my father. Theon, take Aedan back to the nursery and keep him entertained for a while." Lanette heard Bran agree readily, and she turned from the window to see Amy coming quickly towards her. She clutched onto her daughter's shoulders for support as Theon picked up Aedan and balanced him on one hip, snatching up the bowl of berries with his other hand before making for the door with Bran. "Good luck my lady," he said from the door, and she managed a smile for him, nodding her head.
"Breathe, remember," Amy spoke up to grab her attention, and she nodded her head, fixing her eyes on her daughter's and trying her best to breathe evenly. "I was expecting it to be a few more days," Lanette told her, trying to breathe through the cramping pain that had suddenly gripped her. "Well it appears this baby is ready now, and I think we are more than ready to meet them," Amy told her, smiling widely though Lanette could see the fear in her eyes. "Will you stay with me Amy, please?" Lanette whispered to her, and she nodded her agreement. "Of course I will," she promised, "I will hold your hand through it all, and I won't let go mother, I swear."
Jon walked quietly along the edge of the gardens, casting his eyes towards where the princess and her betrothed were walking arm and arm every few moments. He wasn't guarding her as such, but Ser Barristan had asked him to keep a discreet eye on them. So far he had seen nothing other than them ambling along slowly and chatting happily to one another. Prince Trystane seemed to be treating the princess with courtesy and respect from what he could tell so far, which was a relief to see. He continued walking the perimeter of the gardens, passing under the awnings that hung from the walls of the palace. As he passed an alcove a hand enclosed around his wrist, pulling him inside. "What -?" he began to protest, cutting off as his eyes met Elia's.
"Have you been avoiding me?" she asked him, grabbing onto the front of his doublet so he could not escape her clutches. "No of course not, my lady, why would you ever think that?" he questioned her in return. "What are you up to? Spying on the princess?" she asked him, and he shook his head. "Not spying, just -," he started, but she cut him off in an instant. "Just making sure she comes to no harm, very noble of you. What have you observed so far?" she asked, biting down slightly on her bottom lip. "Nothing troubling, just a walk," he answered her at once, and she slackened her grip on his doublet slightly. "Do I put you on edge, Jon?" she asked him, raising one of her brows. "Not exactly," he said, "I am just not used to beautiful women dragging me into secluded corners."
"You think I'm beautiful?" she asked him, and he inwardly cursed, feeling the blush rise up on his cheeks. Had he really said that out loud? "Yes…I mean…yes," he stammered out, and she smirked at him. "Are you blushing Jon?" she asked thoughtfully. "Or are you merely hot from being out in the sun in your leathers?" He swallowed hard, not sure how to answer her as she began toying with the lacings of his doublet. "You know, you really ought to have some lighter clothing made, assuming you'll be staying a while," she continued, wrapping one of the lacings around her finger and blinking slowly up at him. "I'm sure you're right, my lady," he managed, suddenly very aware of the clothing that she was clad in. She was dressed in light coloured breeches and a baggy tunic which was so thin that it was almost transparent. She also hadn't bother to lace it all the way up, and he had a very great difficulty pulling his eyes away from her chest.
"Do you like it?" she whispered to him, pressing herself closer. "I don't really think I should answer that, my lady, I don't think it would be entirely proper," he said, concentrating very hard on trying not to get aroused at her close proximity. "You are very formal Jon, taught your manners well no doubt," she said, "but it isn't like that here, we are free here, free to do whatever we please, whenever we please. You ought to embrace it, you would enjoy yourself far more if you were not so…tense…" she slipper her hands up to massage at his shoulders and he exhaled deeply. "I really ought to check on the princess," he gabbled, and she grinned at him again.
"The princess is just fine, still walking happily with Trystane," she told him, "but if you no longer desire my company, then all you need to do is say so. I don't want to force it on you." He swallowed hard at that, his eyes flickering towards the gardens to see that she was indeed right about the princess. "It is not that I don't desire your company my lady," he told her honestly, "it is more the fact that I desire it altogether too much."
"Now, I was hoping you would say that," she breathed huskily, pulling herself closer to him and pressing her lips to his before he could even blink. It only took a moment of her soft lips on his for him to respond to her, kissing her tentatively at first, but feeling the desire to deepen it almost instantly. She pressed her body flush against his as they kissed, and he was desperate to place his hands on her, but at the same time afraid at where such an action would lead him. Her lips pulled away from his in the next moment, but she did not lean away from him, keeping them a mere inch from his. "You can touch me Jon," she told him breathlessly, "I won't bite. Well…not unless you ask me to."
With that she nipped his bottom lip slightly with her teeth, the action causing him to press his lips insistently to hers again, his hands coming to rest on her waist for a moment before he allowed them to roam down to her perfectly shaped bottom. He had just squeezed her firmly when the sound of someone clearing their throat had him pulling away from her at once, his eyes widening when he saw who had caught them. Elia seemed unconcerned, prising herself slowly away from him before grinning lazily at her father. Prince Oberyn tutted at her, but he didn't seem angry, in fact, if Jon didn't know any better he would say he looked rather amused.
"Now, now El, what chance does the poor man have if you accost him in dark corners," the Prince chuckled, and Elia stepped out of the alcove to have her father wrap his arms around her shoulders. Jon had no idea what to say, his eyes so wide he almost thought they would fall from his head. "Who is to say he did not accost me?" Elia asked in an innocent tone, which clearly didn't fool her father as he let out a hearty laugh. "Please, you are far too much like your mother," the Prince kissed her temple, "speaking of which, she will be most upset with you for this. I believe she had half an eye on our young Northman herself."
Jon's jaw almost fell open at that, but Elia merely laughed just as heartily as he father had moments before. "You can tell mother to keep her hands to herself, the Northman is mine," her tone was almost possessive, but even though Jon's head was still spinning at what he was hearing, he couldn't help but feel aroused by it. Gods. What had he got himself into coming here? "Look, the poor boy is speechless, El," Prince Oberyn chuckled, unwinding his arm from around his daughter's neck. "My snakes are free to do as they please, as is the way here," the Prince addressed him, "I don't think I need threaten you, Jon. Besides, if you break my daughter's heart then she is more than capable of poisoning you herself. I will leave you to it," he said, pressing a kiss to Elia's forehead before he began to saunter away. "Oh, and Jon," Prince Oberyn turned back and winked, "welcome to Dorne."
"That's it, you can do it, not long now and it will be over, I promise you," Amy soothed her mother, running a damp cloth over her brow while squeezing her hand tightly with her other hand. Her mother whimpered slightly in response, and Amy hushed her soothingly, feeling her nails digging in to the back of her palm. "Push again when you're ready my lady," the Maester urged, and Amy swallowed hard, preparing herself for the crunching sensation to grip her hand again. It came, and she winced as her mother screamed out through sheer pain and exhaustion. Amy knew well enough what she was feeling, but she also knew it would be worth it in the end. "You can do this mother, you are so close not," she told her as her head collapsed back down against the pillows.
"I'm too old for this Amy, I haven't got the strength," her mother said faintly, and fear gripped her at once. "Don't you dare say that, you are the strongest person I know. Are you going to let a little pain best you? Come on mother, just once more," Amy urged her, hoping that it was indeed just once more. She glanced towards the Maester and he nodded his head approvingly, to which she breathed a sigh of relief. "I can't Amy, I just can't," her mother panted out, shaking her head. "You can and you will," Amy told her firmly, "you have it easy, I have to deliver two of them in just over six moons time. What do you have to complain about?" Her mother laughed weakly at that, but it was cut off quickly by a moan of pain.
"One more push my lady, just once more," the Maester urged her, and Amy held her breath, wincing again as her hand was crushed once more. "Come on, that's it, that's it," Amy encouraged until her mother's grip on her hand finally slackened. Crying filled the room but Amy could not turn yet to see if she had a new brother or a new sister. Her eyes were all for her mother, desperately seeking her own. They were welling with tears but perfectly focused, and Amy felt a little pull of relief. For a moment she glanced towards the Maester, seeing him cleaning up the baby, before she moved her eyes back to her mother. "You did it," she praised, seeing her smile widely in response. "What do I have Amy?" her mother asked her, and Amy looked towards the Maester.
"A son," his own smile was wide, "and no complications," he added, to which Amy could have broken down and cried. "Oh thank the Gods," she couldn't help but embrace her mother as best she could, pulling away after a moment, tears beginning to leak from her eyes. "I'm sorry," Amy said at once, "I am making such a fuss when you must just want to hold him." She took a few steps back from the bed to allow the Maester to come around with her baby brother wrapped securely in blankets. Amy watched as her mother shifted herself carefully up against the pillows before the Maester eased the baby into her arms. "Is he alright?" he mother asked fearfully. "Perfectly healthy," the Maester assured her, and Amy could see the relief on her face.
"Oh, he's perfect Amy, just like you were," her mother's voice was shaking as she spoke, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. "Were?" Amy teased her, and her mother choked out a laugh. "I meant are, of course I meant are," she laughed, beckoning her to the bed with her free arm. Amy came to nestle in her arms for a moment, thrilled beyond words that her mother was safe and healthy, and that she had a perfectly healthy little brother. "He's amazing," Amy commented, taking in his big blue eyes and his sprinkling of fair hair as he squirmed about a little in his blankets. "Forgive me, my ladies, but I think Ser Jaime will be awaiting news," the Maester interrupted them, and Amy sat up straight at once.
"Of course he will, how stupid of me," she scolded herself, "I will go to him now mother, he is going to be so thrilled." Her mother smiled at that. "Try and hold him off a little while Amy, until I am at least a little more presentable," he mother said, to which she laughed slightly. "Ten minutes?" Amy asked her, her gaze flickering between her and the Maester. "Ten minutes should be time enough my lady," the Maester smiled, and Amy nodded before looking back to her mother. "I won't come back with him, best you have a moment together to enjoy it," she smiled, "I ought to check on Aedan anyway, but I will be back later – I want a cuddle with my little brother."
Her mother smiled widely at that. "Thank you Amy," she said sincerely, "I love you, sweetheart." Amy swallowed hard at her words, nodding vigorously. "I love you too," she managed to whisper, after which she let herself out of the room before she could break down and cry. Gods she was happy, and so, so relieved. "Amy?" her father was panicked as she looked up to see him striding towards her. "Oh Gods, Amy?" he sounded terrified, and she shook her head at once, knowing he was misinterpreting her tears. "No, no Gods no, they are happy tears, happy," she assured him quickly, "they are both fine."
She was crushed into his arms in the next moment, and he was holding her so tightly she could barely breathe as he murmured his thanks to the Gods over and over. "But you will suffocate me if you don't let go," Amy said in an amused tone, and he loosened his grip at once. "I'm sorry sweetheart," he apologised, "Gods…what do we have? Boy or girl?" he asked her expectantly, and she grinned at him. "A boy," she announced, and he laughed in a rather dazed manner. "Gods, I need to see him, to see both of them," he made to go for the door but Amy held him back. "You need to be patient a little while longer," she told him regretfully, "mother still needs to get cleaned up and checked over by the Maester. Give it ten minutes."
Her father looked rather disappointed for a moment, but then he grinned, his hand coming to run through his hair as he laughed disbelievingly again. "I can wait," he said happily, "ten minutes is nothing. Not when we have been waiting for this for nearly twenty years."
A/N: OK, I have nothing to say because I am just so darn thrilled myself haha. Hope you all enjoyed it!
:)