𝟑. 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧
This is a drabble from Journals from Westeros, a collection of domestic and/or romantic slices of life with men of Westeros.
Trope(s): Gender disappointment
Gwayne was pacing the rose-scented corridor, where numerous flowers had been brought in expectation of the birth, as congratulations for a successful labor. Outside in the courtyard, a few knights were training for an afternoon of duels, far from the grand tournaments of the capital, but enough to make the Hightower seat buzz with excitement.
Your husband was nervous, all his earlier excitement had vanished and been replaced by a crippling fear. "My wife has just ended her labors, why may I not see her, and our child?" he cried out to the midwife who had come out of your chambers to announce the good news, as well as keep him out.
He had agreed to wait in the hallway so as not to offend your sensibilities, and had watched as the servants had come and went, carrying fresh linens and hot water, while your cries of pain had pierced through the walls.
"Do not fret, Ser, your wife is resting and your child is healthy," the young midwife placated, and while he could see no deceit on her face nor hear any in her tone, he was alarmed.