When Rumpel walked into his house he saw his wife, Milah, holding a baby boy and singing a sweet, and haunting, lullaby about a brave warrior who died in battle, protecting everyone he cared about. Rumpel stood and watched his wife sing. When the song ended he cleared his throat and Milah turned and looked at him.
"Oh, Rumpel, you're home! I thought I'd never see you again!" Milah cried, throwing her arms around her husband's neck.
"Milah, Milah, I'm here and I'm not leaving.'' Rumpel said soothingly.
"Come meet your son, Rumpel."
Milah walked over to the crib she had been sitting by and picked up a chubby, brown haired little boy. She handed him to Rumpel who cradelded him softly in his arms.
"What's his name, Milah?" he asked quietly, desperate not to disturb the baby boy in his arms.
"Baelfire, his name is Baelfire."
"A tough name for a young lad."
"Indeed, but a tough name makes a tough person.."
"and you need to be tough to survive in this world!" interrupted Rumpel.
" Exactly!" Milah agreed.
That night Rumpel dragged his matress into his son's room and fell asleep listening to the sound of his son's breathing.