Her arm extends quietly in response, to tired and too sore to make any more effort to bring him closer to her.
The babe slept soundly beside in the cot, cooing lightly in sleep.
“As good a father as I’ll be a mother,” she murmured, catching his hand and pulling him into an embrace.
He smelled life grass and hides fresh from the furrier. He smelled like a summer’s day had all but melted into a warm hearth.
He smelt like home and she was eager to keep him.
“ We shall do our best, won’t we? You’ll be better at it than I, I’m certain. They will love you and hang onto your ankles. Wait by the door for you to come when night fears arise. You’ll be the favorite- in my experience fathers often are.
You’ll be as wonderful as gold.”
He turned to look down at her and slipped back into her arms. He had duties to attend too. But what were they compared to Lyanna’s outstretched hands?
His own arms tightened around her as he attempted to drown in the black ink of her hair. “Maybe in your experience but not in mine.” His mother’s memory was still locked away in some box somewhere- too precious and delicate to be fished out but so much better than the cold father who remained.
“You will be a wonderful mother though. I would gamble all my family’s gold on that.”
