Sir David, Battlemaster of Caraway fief, was typically a very formidable man. His weapon skills were impressive and his cavalry tactics were matched by none. He had gotten the job of Battlemaster at a fairly young age and was gaining considerable respect across all Araluen. As the inevitable war with Morgarath drew closer, David was a valuable asset.

And right now, the impressive, formidable Battlemaster was leaning over a cradle, all the worry lines smoothing from his face as he smiled at the occupant. His grey eyes were lit up, the pressure of his everyday life seeming to fade as he watched the infant sleep.

The baby had been born three weeks ago, and from the second David had held the small, delicate being and stroked his thumb across an indescribably soft cheek, David had fallen hopelessly in love.

David paced the hallway, trying and failing to hide his anxiety. He wanted Lysette and the baby they had wanted for so long to be well, but a small, nasty part of his mind feared the worst. What if something happened? He could see things vividly in his head, from the labor being too much for Lysette, for the baby to have some incurable ailment, for the child to be stillborn. Again.

The door opened, and the midwife exited. David was by her immediately. "Is Lysette alright?" He asked quickly, his face and tone showing his worry. The midwife gave a wide smile.

"She's fine. Your baby is lovely, sir."

The relief that flooded through David was almost overwhelming, and he would later be unable to decide if he had walked or floated as he followed the midwife into the room. Lysette was sitting up on the bed, her face flushed and sweaty but shining with joy. David almost fell by the bed. "Lysette," he breathed, all the relief and released tension audible in that one word.

"It's a boy," Lysette beamed, smiling down at the bundle in her arms. Gently, she lifted the baby into David's somewhat hesitant arms. "You won't hurt him," she assured him, noting her husband's tentative demeanor.

David exhaled, taking in every detail of his child. The baby blinked awake, revealing soft blue orbs. "He has your eyes," David told Lysette with a school boy grin. The midwife glanced over from where she was arranging towels.

"They may not stay blue," the midwife reminded him. "Sometimes baby eyes change color after a few months."

David looked into the infant's eyes, so similar to the deep blue of Lysette's, and shook his head stubbornly. "No," he insisted. "They'll stay." The Battlemaster paused, then turned again to Lysette. "What will we call him?"

Lysette paused, her expression turning shy. "I thought maybe... Gilan?"

David tasted the name. "Gilan," he said to himself. "Gilan. It's a good name." He smiled first at his beaming wife, then at his son. "Hello, Gilan."

Gently, so as not to wake his child, David reached down and stroked the soft, wispy blonde hair. He should go back to bed, David admitted to himself. It had become habit of late to get up in the wee hours of the morning to check his baby. Lysette did it as well, he knew, both of them still in slight disbelief that they finally had a child to call their own. He hated to leave, however. He loved the peaceful minutes alone with his son, a welcome escape to his demanding, tense days.

Leaning over the crib, David said softly, "I love you. I love you so much, little one." The baby shifted in his sleep, and David caressed the boy's hand. The baby, even in sleep, curled his fingers loosely over his father's finger. "Goodnight, Gilan." The pure love that only a father will experience colored the words.

David had been given the chance to be a father, something that several years ago he thought would never happen. No matter his knightly responsibilities, no matter his work promotion, David decided then and there that something would always come first.

Being a father.

It's my head canon that Sir David and his wife (whom I call Lysette) experienced several miscarriages before finally having Gilan.

I think daddy David is cute. I love in the Burning Bridge when Gilan arrives with the Celtica messages, and David is totally and visibly/audibly worried about his son, despite being in the middle of a council with the King. Even when he's being a King's adviser, he drops everything when he sees his barely conscious kid escorted into the tent.

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-TrustTheCloak