The Lion and the Warrior

Parenthood Officially Begins

"Da da da da. Da da!" James sat on his mother's knee, while she fed him mashed up fruit. His father sat across from them at the breakfast table, laughing as the baby made noises and messes.

"Oh, you think that's funny do you? Let's see how funny it is when he spills milk all over you for a third time at breakfast." Brienne handed the baby over to Jaime and went to change her clothes.

"Come on James, come see your 'da da da da'. Let's go for a walk in the garden and see just how messy we can get," Jaime playfully scowled at Brienne, and took the baby out for a walk.

"Yeah well, don't let our boy eat dirt again."

"That was one time! Don't pretend you didn't eat dirt as a child." Jaime called over his shoulder.

"Children in Tarth don't eat dirt. We have more class. I take it this means the Lannister children ate dirt?"

"I'm taking my son to play. We will see you when you're dressed in something with more class."

Brienne left the room to change into something dry. She knew that sometimes allowing Jaime the last word annoyed him even more than when she fought for it.

Jaime sat on a bench in the garden and the baby stood in front of him holding on to his leg. "Da da da."

"You know, I love that's your favorite thing to say. I think your mother is a bit jealous. Can you say 'ma ma ma'? Say mmmmmaaa ma ma..."

"Well this is sweet. Trying to help me feel included in this manly world that I am so outnumbered in."

"I told you she was jealous," he said to his son with a smile. "Oh...I think you know this world is all yours, darling." He grinned.

"Absolutely," she beamed.

"Did your da da let you eat dirt again?" she asked the baby.

"Say 'no no no'....I ate some worms though. Didn't you?"

"Well, I suppose that's the Lannister in him, you think?"

"I feel so insulted."

"As you should, Kingslayer." She picked up the baby and brought him over to a swing that they had made.

"My name's Jaime!" he called out to her.

Jaime walked over to Brienne, where she was swinging the baby under a tree and gently pushed her against it. "I'm sorry I'm so low class. Maybe my wife can teach me to be a better man." He said sliding his hand up into her shirt and around her back before kissing her.

"I don't want you to have class. This suits me just fine," she said kissing her husband.

"Ma!" The baby said.

Jaime and Brienne laughed aloud and looked at their baby boy with pride.

"You taught him to say it!" she screamed. "Wow! Listen to you."

"Ma ma ma!" the baby squealed and laughed at his parents.

Jaime picked him up out of the swing and held him up in the air. He looked at his son - his beautiful son with those chubby cheeks, crystal blue-green eyes and golden hair - and he could see his wife, but he also saw his other children, and he could see Cersei. This feeling terrified him. He held his baby close and kissed his cheeks. You're not going to be like her. I'll never let you be like her, he thought to himself.

They sat under the tree together, Jaime sitting first, with his knees bent and the baby sitting straddled, leaning against his legs. Brienne sat leaning against Jaime's right side.

"He loves the butterflies, look, see how he's watching them?" Jaime said.

"He's such a happy baby. I love his giggle." Brienne said.

"It's quite infectious. Just like yours. I can't believe he is going to be 6 months tomorrow."

"I know it's like time has flown by."

"Just wait, before we know it...he will be riding off to join the Royal Guard."

"You're already thinking that far ahead?"

"Ahh, you know. Wild dreams of a father, wanting the best for his son."

"Is that really what's best? He would never marry, never have children, never have rights to Casterly Rock or Evenstar." she said.

"Wild dreams would be that he would be king someday, I suppose."

"What makes you think he couldn't be?"

"Nothing." His answer was honest and frank. After all, his other sons were kings, why was this so far out of reach? "Give da da kisses." He leaned forward and his son did his best to give me some version of a kiss.

Years flew by and James lived the life of a king. His parents were with him every day, playing and teaching him, taking him on adventures and his favorite thing to do was watch them sword fight.

He loved the sound of the swords clanking - steel against steel. He could see himself in the blade, and he loved the gold and gemstones. He loved to watch his mother and father dance around each other, dodging and weaving.

He so badly wanted a sword of his own; he was bored playing with wooden swords. It didn't suit him well, and he just didn't understand why he couldn't have one.

"He's getting impatient you know."

"He's a child. Tell me what five year old needs to walk around with a sword on his waist."

"He's not an ordinary child, and you know it."

"No. He's our child. And I know that makes him unique in the fact that we are what we are..."

"He doesn't have to walk around with a sword on his waist every day..."

"Jaime...look at your son, please."

The boy was walking around with the wooden sword tied around his waist with his belt. As Jaime and Brienne watched, he took sword out and began to mimic what he has watched his parents do for the last five years.

Brienne continued, "Tell me, if he has a real sword, do you think we'll be able to pry it put of his hands at bedtime?"

"Well, we'll have to draw the line somewhere, don't you think?"

"Jaime! No!"