"Do you know that kicking a prince could get you in trouble, Arya?" Jaehaerys said to the brat who was kicking his shin hard. The girl was undoubtedly looking to vent her anger on behalf of her sister.
"Stay away from Rhaelle, you idiot," she said as she threw a punch at the prince's groin.
Jaehaerys stopped her fist in its tracks. Blows to any other part of his body could be ignored, but not that one.
"She's my daughter. I... want to see her," he said.
He had come from his mansion to the Starks' to see his daughter for the first time. Eddard hadn't accepted the deal yet, held back by a bit of pride or political fear. If he did not, Jaehaerys might have to involve the dragons. It was a resource he did not want to exploit to intimidate others.
He could take Rhaelle without any problem, but not Sansa.
"You can't, she... doesn't want to see you," Arya said, pulling a sharp piece of metal from a sheath hanging at her waist.
'Needle,' thought the prince. In the Arya canon, the girl with dark brown hair, gray eyes, and an elongated face had received a sword from her brother, Jon Snow. In this world, it had probably been a gift from Daemon, which surprised Jaehaerys. Arya was everything Daemon hated in a woman: wild, loud, and defiant.
"Did a baby tell you that?" he asked, stopping the needle between his fingers, watching the guards tense up, both the dragons and the wolves. A look silenced both sides.
"Sansa doesn't want to see you looking foolish. She's asleep," she continued, not allowing him to enter the room. "Let go of it or I'll hurt you," she said as she tugged at the sword.
"Do you even know how to use it?" he asked.
"Just stick the pointy end in," said the girl as she struggled.
"That's the basics," said Jaehaerys as he wrenched the sword from her hands. "I'll keep it for now. You're a danger with it. If you were another lord, you could be in trouble," he told her.
"But you're not a complete idiot," she replied, stroking his palm.
"Oh, no?" Jaehaerys smiled.
"You're an idiot, not a complete one, just a part of one. You're worse than an idiot," she said in defense.
"Sure, little wolf," Jaehaerys opened the door slowly, making sure it didn't creak. He didn't want to startle anyone.
"High in the halls of the kings who are gone," he heard a sweet voice sing.
"Jenny would dance with her ghosts," Sansa sang, melancholic.
"The ones she had lost and the ones she had found," the redhead smiled, moving the little girl's hand as she sang.
"And the ones
Who had loved her the most," she finished, looking in his direction out of the corner of her eye.
"Jenny of Oldstones," Jaehaerys said.
Sansa's eyes narrowed as she turned her back on him. Jaehaerys entered the room.
"Leave it open, idiot!" he heard Arya say before closing the door.
He walked over to the crib containing his daughter and looked at the girl's face. Sansa didn't say a word, nor did Jaehaerys; he just watched her. She looked just as beautiful as the last time he saw her. But she also seemed more mature. She no longer smiled dreamily at him; she bit her lip as if expecting bad news.
Her blue eyes were the same as when he left Winterfell, sad and filled with tears.
"Rhaelle," he said, looking at the cradle for the first time. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt as if his chest were about to explode.
It was a strange mixture of fear and happiness. Like standing on top of a tower and looking down, Jaehaerys believed it would be pretty similar to riding a dragon.
His daughter was beautiful, and although they say that about all babies, his really was. She had white hair with patches of copper. She was lovely, the most precious thing Jaehaerys had ever seen in his life.
Her eyes were indigo, a color between blue and purple that could change with the lighting.
Jaehaerys let his finger caress her belly, tickling her. Then he watched her smile, her little teeth peeking out.
Sansa stood up and, with a gentle movement, picked up the girl. He grimaced, thinking she didn't want him too close to her daughter. Then he panicked when she put the baby in his arms.
"Wait, I can't," he tried to protest, afraid of hurting the baby.
One of the disadvantages of having a strong physique was that, with a bit of carelessness, he could easily destroy fragile things. And at that moment, the last thing he wanted was to cause any harm to the little girl. Jaehaerys heard a little giggle from Sansa, as if she enjoyed seeing him suffer. Or as if she enjoyed seeing the father with his daughter.
"Put your hand behind her neck, don't let her get uncomfortable," Jaehaerys obeyed with clinical precision; she was the expert who had cared for her for almost seven moons.
"She feels so fragile," the prince commented, doing his best not to apply force to his arms.
"She's strong, she's your daughter," Sansa said. That sentence touched his heart.
Jaehaerys watched as the white cloth covering the baby darkened, drops of water falling on it. He shifted position and looked up at the ceiling, expecting to see a leak. But he found nothing there. When he looked back at his daughter, the drops continued to fall. He frowned.
Sansa's hands caressed his face, and Jaehaerys felt the moisture on his own cheeks.
It was the first time in his life that he had cried for something other than physical pain. He felt Sansa's hand gently guide him to a seat. He held his daughter tightly, lest he make a sudden movement and drop her on the floor.
Once seated, he released the breath he didn't know he was holding. He felt Sansa's weight settle on his shoulder, a position so intimate that he should not have allowed it out of respect for Daenerys.
He rocked the little girl for several minutes, watching as her expression gradually became sleepy until she fell asleep. Sansa got up, took the little girl from his arms, and then returned her to her crib.
"Do you promise to take care of her once you take her to ArgentStone?" Sansa asked quietly, gesturing for him to lower his voice as well.
"Yes, I promise," said the prince. He didn't need Sansa to ask him; from the moment he held her in his arms, he was willing to burn castles in her name. "I also promised to protect you, Sansa," he said. She opened her eyes, as if she hadn't expected it.
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Sansa had not harbored much hope.
When she thought about marrying Lord Frey, she could be sure that Jaehaerys would not have hesitated to come for her, burn the Twins, and take her with him. Even then, her confidence came from her innocence.
When her father mentioned Lord Jaime, her hopes in Jaehaerys died a little. Her father would accept the marriage if he found Lord Jaime to be a good man and if favorable treaties were signed for the North. After all, the Lannisters were the most powerful family after the Targaryens. However, malicious tongues whispered that lions ruled even over dragons.
With Walder, if Jaehaerys did not go for her, she could leave her daughter in her father's care and then throw herself from the highest tower. But with the Lannisters? Doing such a thing could mean war between the Starks and the Lannisters.
It wasn't just that she died in the Lannisters' care; it could make the lions the suspects. Otherwise, you could say she committed suicide, but that would leave a significant mark on her father and, perhaps, on Jaehaerys.
She had remained uncertain until then, not knowing what to do, which path to take. Jaehaerys' intimidating Lord Frey was one thing; most in Westeros hated him, but Lord Jaime? He was respected by many, who saw him as just as capable as his father, though without his father's cruelty.
She had even heard that Lord Jaime and Jaehaerys were on friendly terms.
"Father said Jaime might become—" she began.
"He might... if I hadn't come," the prince said. "But I did come," he continued.
Her mother, Catelyn, said she had changed since Rhaelle was born. And that when that happened, she would stop seeing Jaehaerys as the "idealized prince" she thought he was.
But her mother was wrong. Sansa could perfectly remember the man she had fallen in love with. That man who, she didn't know how, managed to snatch her from the jaws of lions.
It seems that Jaehaerys has also matured.
Note:
Last chapter, Tywin treated Ned like one of his lords... I wrote it that way for many reasons. 1) He has the upper hand. Sansa is with a Bastard; having a woman with a bastard married to Lannister's heir is something that every Lord would have killed for. 2) Jaehaerys' rage baited Tywin. In the scene, Tywin even removes the sofa where Jaehaerys takes a seat while reading. He was trying to regain control.
That was my logic while writing... it makes sense or not, it depends on how you see Tywin. Perhaps he will not do that for the greater good. But he's a prideful one.