Author's Note: I was determined to get this chapter out before Christmas and for once I actually met that goal! I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

To Build A Home

Lyarra knew that her time-frame for telling Jaime was small. Genna had, no doubt, already told Lord Tywin. Knowing how Jaime felt about being kept out of the know, Lyarra understood that she had to be the one to tell him. Or risk sparking his temper again. She hated walking on eggshells around Jaime, constantly worrying about angering him, but she didn't see that changing any time soon.

She nibbled on her slice of bacon, feeling vomit rise up her throat at the mere smell of food. These southern portions were too large and too rich. Even when she wasn't ailing from pregnancy, Lyarra found it difficult to eat a full southern meal, but having been raised in the north where food was a lot less plentiful, Lyarra loathed to waste it so she kept stuffing her mouth. Lyarra glanced at her husband, who was too preoccupied with his own breakfast to notice her looking at him, and sneakily fed Fang a slice of bacon.

Taking in a deep breath to calm her nerves, Lyarra opened her mouth to speak. She only managed to speak one word, "I," before she felt vomit rushing up her throat. She dashed to the chamberpot and knelt before it, emptying her stomach's contents. When she was finished, she was surprised to find Jaime standing over her, looking worried. He offered her his hand to help her up.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, concerned.

This wasn't how I planned to tell him, but it seems my stomach had other ideas. Lyarra nodded and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "I... I went to the maester yesterday. Your aunt Genna thought..." Lyarra trailed off, not sure of what to say, so she decided to blurt in one quick breath, "I'm with child."

The look on his face would have been comical had Lyarra not been so anxious about his reaction. His eyes were wide like saucers and his jaw had dropped ever so slightly. For once, he seemed lost for words. "You are?"

"I am," she replied weakly and mustered a similarly weak smile.

He said nothing in response, eyes narrowed in thought as he stared at her flat stomach. Lyarra suddenly felt very self-conscious. She watched him anxiously, waiting for him to say something, anything. Was he not happy? Perhaps he thought it was too soon as well.

He opened his mouth to say something before hesitating and closing it again. Lyarra's vision became blurred with tears. She blinked them away quickly, becoming frustrated with how emotional she was these days. He's not happy, Lyarra thought, unconsciously taking a step away from him. I don't want to raise a child alone! Some of her fears were ridiculous, Lyarra would admit that, but her biggest fear was a reasonable one – she didn't want to be her baby's only loving parent, not when she herself didn't have a clue about raising children!

"You're not happy," Lyarra stated when the silence became too much. A sob itched at her throat, but she forced it down with a large gulp.

Jaime shook his head vehemently, finally looking up at Lyarra's face instead of her stomach. "I didn't say that. I am... I am not unhappy. Don't think that." He paused for a minute before asking, "Are you unhappy?"

His question shocked her. Not once had anyone asked her how she felt. They just expected her to be happy, expected her to suddenly love the child she was carrying. But so far Lyarra viewed the baby in her stomach as a completely different entity – an invader, almost. Sure, she was sometimes amazed by the fact that she had helped create a living human, but Lyarra hadn't felt anything past that.

"I don't know how I feel." She let out a small sigh. "It's so soon."

"I thought women liked babies," Jaime commented.

Lyarra chuckled. She did like babies, but apparently she preferred the babies that didn't belong to her. "We do. Most do. I don't know. Perhaps it's just the shock."

"How long have you known?" he asked her, eyes lowered to her stomach once again. "How long have you been with child? My child, good gods..."

"I've only known since yesterday," Lyarra told him, chewing at her lower lip. "I think it's been a month."

"Our wedding night," Jaime stated.

"I think so," she agreed. Her mother became pregnant with Lyarra and Robb on her wedding night. Tully women must simply be very fertile. Lyarra began to loath her own fertility. She didn't want to end up birthing ten children because of her over-excited womb, even if that was what was expected of her. She'd heard her mother screaming while birthing Rickon. Childbirth was painful and it certainly was not something Lyarra wanted to experience very often.

But as Lyarra watched Jaime's face break into grin as he looked at her still flat stomach, she wondered if the pain would be worth it. Perhaps that's why wives are so eager to give their husband children. His large grin, so unlike his usual cocky smirk, made Lyarra's heart flutter and jump with happiness.

"We'll announce it tomorrow night, at your nameday feast," Jaime told her, still grinning like a madman. "I'm going to tell my father now and make the arrangements." He pressed a kiss to her forehead before rushing out of the room. The action made Lyarra blush. She began to wonder, not for the first time, if they weren't so badly matched after all. Jaime could make her so happy, and she liked to think that she did the same for him as well.

Startled by her own thoughts, Lyarra's eyes widened with realisation. She was letting him into her heart. This ill-tempered, unreliable, arrogant man whose personality seemed to change by the day... how could she be so foolish? She was not Sansa. Lyarra never thought she could be swayed by a few pretty words and tender actions. Yet here she was, swooning over a kiss!

She retreated back to her bedroom and looked into the mirror of her vanity, staring at her flat stomach and wondering if her child could mean so much more to her and Jaime than she originally thought.

What was originally meant to be a small gathering of close family members turned into a lavish feast that every western lord and his wife were invited to. Jaime knew well what his father was up to. He wanted everyone to know that the future of House Lannister was now a stable one. For years, his father was left without an heir. Tywin Lannister now not only had an heir in Jaime, but he had a fertile daughter-in-law that would no doubt give House Lannister the heirs it desperately needed.

And Lord Tywin wanted everyone of his bannermen to know that.

Jaime and his wife were seated at his father's right-hand side at the head table which overlooked the Great Hall. As usual, his father spared no expense. The food was delicious and exotic and the musicians were too skilled to be performing for a mere nameday feast. But this is more than a mere nameday feast, Jaime reminded himself. This is a celebration of Tywin Lannister's own personal victory. His precious legacy is now secure. All it had taken was a squirt of seed up his wife's cunt to earn his father's approval and love. He'd have to tell Tyrion that the secret to earning Tywin's approval was successful impregnation.

"Whose that?" he heard his wife whisper and urged himself to ignore his bitter thoughts.

She nodded towards a fat man that Jaime recognised. He grinned to himself. "Ah, yes. That's Lord Lefford, I think. His face is a bit lost in all his cheek fat. I can't quite tell. Why do you ask?"

"He's been glaring at you and your father for the last twenty minutes," Lyarra told him.

"Of course he is, the miserable bastard. There's been an issue between him and my father. Lord Lefford believes that he's paying too much tax to House Lannister. It's silly business, really," Jaime trailed off, thinking that his young wife would be bored by the subject matter. When he looked at her, however, her eyes were alight with interest. So he continued. "The Leffords are in the possession of many very profitable mines situated in their region. My father owns large shares in these mines that were passed down from his father and his father's father before him. Lord Lefford thinks that, because my father is profiting more from the mines than he is, his rate of tax should be reduced."

"It's a fair point," Lyarra granted.

"Yes, it is," he said, watching her carefully. "But not one that would benefit House Lannister. My father has disagreed, of course. And Lord Lefford has said nothing more on the subject, choosing instead to seethe silently. What a man." Jaime scoffed, glaring at Lord Lefford.

"It surprises me that he'd have the gall to speak of such things to your father," Lyarra whispered, wary that his father was seated on Jaime's left.

"It surprised me too," Jaime agreed. "But the man was desperate. See the woman beside him." Jaime glanced pointedly towards the blonde woman whispering into Lord Lefford's ear. His wife followed his gaze. "That's his new wife. Lady Alys, I think. His third wife. He's very fond of her, but she is very demanding. Not all young wives are as easy to please as you are, Lyarra. I suppose I should consider myself lucky."

She grinned at him. "You're welcome."

"She's much younger than him. And far prettier, obviously. Thirty years his junior." Jaime grinned back at her. "I'd imagine knowing that would make you feel rather fortunate."

"Nonsense," his wife disagreed. Her grin was contagious. "I may be younger, but no one can doubt that you are far prettier than I."

A booming laugh escaped his lips, causing many lords to turn to look at him. "Who knew that someone with Ned Stark's blood could have a sense of humour?"

Lyarra scoffed, pretending to be more offended than she was. "Who knew that Jaime Lannister was such a terrible gossip?"

He was about to respond with an equally witty retort when he heard his father beckon his attention. Jaime turned around, a smile still on his lips, and listened to his stern father. "Now," his father stated.

"Now what?" Jaime asked, confused.

Tywin narrowed his eyes at his eldest son. "Make the announcement."

"I'm making it?"

"Yes, you are," Tywin said slowly, irritation sharp in his voice. "Now, get up and make the announcement before she has the damn child."

Jaime rolled his eyes at his father's impatience and stood up, the scraping of his chair against the floor as he pushed it backwards succeeded in silencing the room. It thrilled him somewhat – the power he had over his father's bannermen – yet he still longed for the life of a knight. Nothing thrilled him like fighting could.

"As you all know, we've gathered here tonight to celebrate my wife's nameday." He refused to say what age she was, in fear of feeling like Lord Lefford. He placed his left hand and Lyarra's shoulder and gave it a fond squeeze. "But I would also like to make an important announcement. It brings me great joy to inform you all that my wife is with child. House Lannister is expecting yet another member!"

The way he was expected to speak sickened him, but he grinned nonetheless. Because even though Jaime loathed the life of a lord, he was looking forward to meeting his child – the first child he could openly love. Lyarra placed her hand on top of his and looked up at him, smiling. The sight made his stomach flutter.

The feeling started him, as did the burst of fondness he suddenly felt for his young wife. It should be normal, for a husband to grow to like his wife, but Jaime never considered himself to be normal. In fact, he prided himself in being anything but.

Yet as he looked down at Lyarra Stark, he wondered if this life – that was chosen for him by a self-indulging king – would be better than he originally thought. It was certainly becoming increasingly difficult to think otherwise.

As his wife read to him as though he was a child, Jaime found himself focusing instead on the bump forming from her stomach, where his child was growing. The thought made him smile. He tried to listen to her, he truly did. After all, she had offered to read to him as a favour, knowing how he struggled with reading. It was his father who insisted he read the works of Maester Ormond which focused on ruling and battle strategy. His father thought, perhaps correctly, that Jaime was worryingly inexperienced in both leadership and battle strategy. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, the theory of leadership never quite interested him as it seemed to interest his father and, by the looks of it, his little wife.

"Despite the general consensus amongst experienced and knowledgeable battle commanders that infantry are mere pawns whose duty is to exhaust the enemy by allowing their lack of training and skill to cause their demise, therefore tiring the enemy, it is to be noted that infantry is undoubtedly the most important element of any army because of their cheapness in comparison to cavalry and their ability to be deployed on any terrain. The contrast between skilled and unskilled infantry is the difference between success in battle and a loss. It is advisable for any intelligent military commander or general to invest in their infantry, as no man is to be employed in the field who is not trained and tested in discipline. To do so is detrimental to the success of an army." Although it took Lyarra quite some time to notice his disinterest, when she did she fixed him with a most heated glare. Jaime smiled innocently. "Are you even listening?"

"I was," he replied earnestly, "but then I became preoccupied with other, more important matters."

"Oh, like what?" Lyarra indulged, allowing herself to laugh at Jaime's antics.

"Like how adorable you are," he winked at her and gave her a cheeky grin to make his very unusual statement more in tune with his usual demeanour.

Lyarra gave him a disapproving look, but laughed nonetheless. "Flattery won't get you anywhere."

"I mean it," Jaime assured her. He was beginning to truly enjoy his wife's company. In the last four months, without the interference of any person or problems, they had grown to like each other, which was more than Jaime had ever expected. Jaime smiled at her. "Pregnancy becomes you. Though you've always been adorable. Like a little doll." He remembered his sister calling her a doll. Cersei meant it as an insult, but Jaime found the term to be endearing.

"That's horrible," Lyarra exclaimed, giggling.

"In a good way," he promised.

"How can that be meant in a good way?" she challenged.

Shrugging, Jaime added, "It just is. You're glowing." His wife looked shocked at his compliment. Compliments from Jaime were rare and seldom, but he supposed that made them all the more special. Or so he hoped.

"Thank you, I think," Lyarra said, her tone unsure but merry. She turned her head to smile at him before focusing on the book again. "Now, can we get back to-"

"What's it like?" Jaime interrupted before she could continue, his eyes locked on her stomach. He was both curious and eager to delay any further reading from that dreadful book.

Sighing, Lyarra turned her attention to him again. "What's what like?"

"Being pregnant," he answered simply, nodding towards her bump. "Doesn't it feel funny? Having a human inside of you. It's rather like an invasion of privacy." Jaime had always wondered what pregnancy was like for women ever since his own mother was pregnant with Tyrion. He hadn't thought to ask his mother, and Cersei had never been the most approachable nor the most willing to answer questions like that.

"No, not really," she admitted, smiling as she glanced down at her stomach, one of her hands resting on the bump. "Now that I'm not vomiting everywhere, I barely even notice. Well, apart from the bump growing out of my stomach."

"I didn't think you minded your bump," Jaime quipped. "You seem to put it to good use. You're not even that big yet and you're already managing to use your stomach as a table."

Lyarra grinned at him. "It's not as easy as I make it look. You have to really wedge it in there." Jaime winked at her, his mind going to all sorts of decrepit places. Lyarra rolled her eyes, laughing. "You are horrible."

"You know," Jaime started, chuckling to himself, "I think I'd rather like to be pregnant."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes," he replied, turning his head to look at his wife, a large grin on his face. "I've seen how you have used it to your advantage. Your stomach is, for all intents and purposes, a table; I dare say that at this point every man in the castle held a door open for you at least once; nobody ever asks you to do any heavy lifting-"

"Did they ever?" Lyarra argued.

"Or bend over," Jaime stated suggestively, a smirk on his lips as he raised one eyebrow. "Or kneel."

She understood his meaning quickly. Lyarra was getting used to him and his ways. Had he made a joke like that when they first married, she wouldn't have understood it at all. Yet her reaction remained the same. She punched him playfully on the shoulder, making him laugh heartily. "You're terrible!"

"You've gotten away with a lot in the past few months. And we're only half way through your pregnancy," Jaime joked. "Have you given any thought to what you'd like to call it?"

"It?" she repeated. She hated when he called the child in her belly an 'it.' Sometimes Jaime purposely referred to the baby as an 'it' just to annoy her.

This time, Jaime gave in and corrected himself. "Him or her."

Lyarra smiled, having gotten her way and finally answered his questioned. "No, not at all, really. Have you?" She asked him in a tone full of surprise.

"Yes," he answered. The look on her face was one he expected, full of surprise. "Why do you look so surprised?" Though he already knew the answer. Of course, Jaime didn't seem like the man to get excited over having a child. Had he been the same man he was a decade ago, Jaime wouldn't have been excited at all. Perhaps it was age that mellowed him and made him an eager father. Jaime didn't know, but he was glad of the change, whatever had caused it.

"I'm not," his wife insisted. Jaime gave her a look of disbelief. "I'm impressed, actually. Go on. What have you come up with?"

"Just the one." He paused, feeling himself become more serious. "If the child is a girl, I'd like to name her Joanna. After my mother. If you agree, of course." It had long been a wish of his, ever since his mother had died, to honour her memory by naming his firstborn daughter after her. Of course, when he was little he hadn't considered that his theoretical future wife might have an opinion.

Sympathy. That was what he saw when he looked into his wife's eyes. Sympathy and understanding. It confused him how he could be both pleased and irritated by her sharp contrast to Cersei. They were polar opposites, yet he managed to love Cersei and get on well with Lyarra. "Of course I agree," she replied.

Jaime smiled at her. "So, to keep things fair, I was thinking that since I've decided on the name if it–" Seeing his wife's glare, he quickly corrected, "–the baby– is a girl, then you should decide on the name if it's–" Though he was becoming frustrated with her sharp glares, Jaime corrected himself, again, "– the baby – is a boy."

"I think that's very fair," she agreed, subconsciously touching her stomach. "Though I can't think of any boy's names."

"You have many brothers to name him after," Jaime suggested. He then grumbled underneath his breath, "Your father too, if you must." He wouldn't be too pleased with his son being called after Ned Stark, of all people, but if that's what Lyarra decided, then in the name of fairness he would have to agree.

"I don't think your father would be very happy with his grandchild bearing a Stark name." Jaime had thought of that as well, and found that he didn't really care anymore about what might upset his father.

He scoffed. "My father doesn't have to be happy with everything. Only a few months ago, he had no heir. Now he has me and another heir on the way. He can learn how to be grateful."

"Speaking of learning..." Lyarra trailed off and pointedly opened the book that was sitting on her lap. Jaime groaned, causing Lyarra to give him a stern look. I swear. In another life, Lyarra Stark was a maester.

"Must we?"

"Yes, we must."

Jaime smirked at his young wife. "As much as I would love to listen to you drone on about strategy, I believe we could spend our night doing something far more entertaining."

Intrigued, Lyarra indulged him. "Oh?"

"Oh," Jaime repeated, still smirking as he grabbed the book out of her hands and placed it on the floor beside him. He engulfed Lyarra in a heated kiss, only breaking away from her for a quick second to blow out the candle on her bedside locker.