[ He lies by her side and Alayne turns towards him gingerly to meet him, her body seeming small against his even though time as proven her to be longer in both leg and torso. Her mouth presses soft kisses to the lids of his eyes, to his cheeks and chin, the effort making her breathless and flush, a damp fever threatening to sheen her face and neck. ]

You're being too generous, I was a fool once.

[ She had been many things once upon a time: foolish, innocent, blind. Once she'd been a daughter of the North and though winter still sings through Alayne's veins, the wolves no longer count her among their own. Now she is a Baelish or will be soon; vows, once spoken, cannot be unspoken and she'd swore in the eyes of her familial blood that she would not be broken from Petyr, not at any cost.

She puffs out a shallow exhale. Her whole body trembles in his arms; it'd be best that she rest but Alayne is filled with a restless anxious feeling, like she fears this happiness will somehow be shortlived (the baby stillborn or some other way afflicted, herself ill or dying, Petyr once again alone). ]

You changed me. [ Alayne kisses him again, lingeringly. ] You made me strong. You helped make this happiness possible.