1/5 - Birth
Petyr paced the corridor, his eye catching between the guard and the flickering light of the sconce overhead with every swift turn. His hands were tightly folded as his arms wrapped around his back, each step getting wider and wider, bridging the distance he took away from the door.
He could hear a small whimper from the other side and stopped dead in his tracks, the beckoning cry of his young wife, no doubt.
"This is absurd, let me in at once!" Petyr snapped like a dog towards the guard, his teeth grinding in his crooked mouth as the guard's gaze stayed straight on ahead.
"M'lady requests that you stay out here until you are summoned M'Lord." The guard's eyes took a quick glance Petyr, but even before he noticed the guard looked away.
"Lady Baelish would not insist on that, I swear to you." Petyr began to push forward on the door to find that it would not budge.
"It is that terrible wet nurse!" He yelled as he pressed his body against the door, using every muscle in his body to break the barrier between him and his wife.
He grunted and lost his balance, nearly falling over onto the guard. He glared over and saw a small smirk creeping across the guard's face, causing Petyr to retrieve a small blade from his robe and press it against the guards neck.
"If you even manage to stutter-out one syllable I will slice your throat clean open." He pressed the blade closer to the guard's throat, causing the guard to wince and try to backup further into the wall. Petyr raised both his eyebrows and opened his mouth, his tongue lingering right in the corner of his lips, leading to a sly and playful smile.
He noticed the sweat begin to form on the guard's forehead and got just an inch closer before he could see the fear rise and bloom in the guard's silver eyes.
"Now open the fucking door." He released his weight from the guards body and placed his dagger back in it's sheath and straightened his coveted mocking-bird pin to regain his composure.
The guard's eyes widened as he shuffled over to the door and knocked three times. Petyr looked over at him, amazement in his eyes.
"All you had to do was knock?" He shook his head and rolled his eyes before smiling watching the large wooden door swing open, revealing a heavily lit chamber.
A massive bed lay in the middle of the room as maidens scurried around the main attraction: among a purple and red collection of linens, a silver chamber pot, bowls and vases filled with wines and water, was his beautiful, darling little sweetling.
Her eyes were clasped tight as he walked over to her, silently and swiftly, shooing all the women out of the way. Her legs were spread, a white linen wrapped over her naked body, her hair sticking to her forehead through a light glistening of perspiration.
Petyr couldn't help but smile as he looked down at his young bride, who's breaths were even and prolonged as he focused on each rise and fall of her chest.
"You look beautiful, my little bird." He spoke in a near whisper as he slowly bent down to be at her level. Sansa's glossy eyes slowly opened, her breath now a bit quicker than before. Her lips curled into a smile as she locked eyes with Petyr, his hand raising to her face, and the other to her belly.
"I thought you didn't want to be in here-" Her voice of fragile and shaky, every ounce of energy used to gather those few words.
"You've been lied to." He shot a glare at the head nurse, who was bringing over a basin to set at the foot of the bed.
"A man has no place in the birthing chamber." Her voice was cool and distant, and her eyes were all the same. Petyr nearly stood out of anger, but was calmed back down by a slight pull from Sansa.
"No need to argue. You're here." She smiled as he leaned down to kiss her forehead, and hold her face close to his chest.
"Yer getting close, luv." The nurse dragged over a bench and placed it next to the bowl. She dipped her hands in some hot water then wiped them on her white skirt before raising the sheet around Sansa's legs. "Any minute now a little Lord or Lady should be appearin!"
Sansa smiled but her happiness was overcome with pain as she let out a small and low moan. Petyr grasped her face harder as he could feel Sansa's grip on his hand tighten. She screamed again as she could feel her whole body tremble and stretch to its limits.
"Aye!" The nurse smiled at them both as Petyr began to panic. The nurse began barking orders at Sansa as her she sat straight up in bed. She grabbed onto Petyr' forearm with all her strength, leaving a strong, tender mark on him, a small stream of blood raising above the skin.
His eyes flashed between Sansa's face, howling away and the nurse barking, back and forth as if time had stopped and he himself couldn't breath.
He had never experienced a woman giving childbirth, let alone the woman he loves with his child. If only he could replace her, take away the pain and horror she was going through, maybe he would know what to do…what to say, instead he just held on, and allowed her to burrow deeper into his skin.
Her mouth was wide open and she let out another scream, but there, right at the foot of the bed he saw it, the squirmy little body of a baby. Covered in Sansa's blood, covered in his.
Sansa halted her panting to take one last large breath and collapse on the bed, releasing Pety'rs arm and smiling.
"What…can I…" Her words were mumbled and nearly silent. The exhaustion had taken over her, but she still thrived on the excitement and the joyus love that flooded her for a creature she had yet to meet.
"She's beautiful." The nurse waddled over to the pair and placed the purple-wrapped babe in Sansa's arms. They both smiled down at their red-haired daughter,
"She looks just like me!" Sansa couldn't help but laugh, overrun with joy and emotion, she also couldn't help the tears from streaming down her face.
Petyr was in awe. He fell down onto the bed to have a seat next to his wife, his mouth agape as he graced the babies face with his finger and smiled as the child grabbed onto his forefinger with her tiny hands.
"Yes, yes she does." Sansa smiled at her husband as she could see tears forming in his eyes as well.
"And she is ours." Sansa whispered as she lightly kissed the top of her head as she handed the child to Petyr.
Her eyes opened in a quick flutter, and Petyr nearly lost his breath at the sight of her stunning blue-gray eyes. He stroked the light hairs atop her head and swore he had never felt so happy in his entire life, and knew no feeling would ever surpass the one he had as he held his daughter for the first time…
/end.