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janie_tangerineNed is hit in the face with the enormity of it the moment he’s let inside his and Cat’s bedroom, after Maester Luwin and the midwives storm out of the room. She’s laying against the cushions, bright auburn hair falling over her naked shoulders, holding their second daughter to her chest, her small head resting on her round, full breasts, and when Ned walks inside the room and sits down next to the bed she looks up at him, giving him a tired smile.
“Say hello to Arya,” she says, her voice hoarse but strong and steady, turning her over to him. “Guess what, this one looks like you.”
And she does, with a longer face than Sansa’s was when she was born (he hadn’t seen Robb’s and he rues it every day, but there’s nothing he can do about it now), and his dark hair, and she’s not opening her eyes for now but he imagines they’ll be gray, and for a moment he wishes Lyanna could see her because he has a feeling this one will grow up like her, but — it’s not the moment to indulge in that kind of thought.
He wasn’t there for Robb, and with Sansa it still was too new a marriage and they still hadn’t found the right footing around each other, but now —
Now he can’t help leaning down and kissing his beautiful, strong wife that he realized he loves so much his heart could burst while she’s holding their equally beautiful baby daughter, and he doesn’t move for a long time, and Cat looks delighted when he moves away.
“And what was that for?” She smiles, raising one hand to move hair away from his forehead, her fingers trailing along his cheek. He covers her hand with his before he answers.
“Well,” he says, “I’m just wondering, is there a man in the world happier than I am right now? Because I really, really don’t think so.”
She laughs against his mouth, and so he kisses her again as Arya goes on sleeping.
Oh, he is the happiest man in Westeros right now.
He really, really is.
