"Really? I can't believe it's time. Has it been almost seven months already? By Andraste's Tears, Harold, what do I do?"
A panic-stricken Teyrn gulped the remains of his glass of wine, then jumped up from his chair in the great hall and accosted his seneschal with questions as soon as the pageboy told him the news. The papers and maps he had been studying were now scattered to the floor.
"My Lord, the Teyrna's ladies, attendants, and the healer have things well under control. There is nothing for you to do but wait." The older man smiled, remembering the birth of his own two children with fondness. "And believe me, I know it is difficult. But you'll just be in the way if you try to go to her chambers, Your Grace."
"Yes, yes. I suppose you're right." Bryce Cousland bent to retrieve the documents, then started pacing the length of the hall after he placed them back on the small table next to his empty glass of wine. He was not good at waiting. Harold, ever the faithful seneschal, filled the Teyrn's glass again and waited patiently with him for the next two hours.
Suddenly, the wails of a newborn babe at the other side of the castle could be heard through the open doors. The Teyrn did not need to wait for the news, he simply ran toward the bedchambers, almost crashing into one of the maids who was carrying a large basket of linens.
Nan beamed up at him as he entered, gesturing towards Eleanor and the child she held, wrapped in a blanket. "Sire, I'm pleased to announce that you have fathered a son. With a very healthy set of lungs, it seems."
He had eyes only for his wife, though. She smiled up at him and held out her hand, beckoning him to move closer. She seemed tired, but very happy.
"Thank you for giving me such a beautiful baby boy, Bryce." He sat on the bed next to her and gently touched his son's head. The child had stopped crying and was now looking up at him. Nan shooed the servants out of the room and closed the door behind her as she left, giving the family some moments of privacy. The Teyrn kissed his wife softly on her cheek, then gently kissed the newborn's forehead.
"He's so tiny. I…I'm almost afraid to touch him!" He exclaimed, then laughed at his foolish remark. "My love, it is I who should be thanking you. I am glad I didn't run off to fight at the West Hills with the rest of our men this time. This brings me so much joy!"
"Have you decided what we will name him?" She asked, touching the side of his face with a fond smile.
"Yes, yes I have. Fergus Abernathy was an uncle of mine. He fought against the Orlesians so Matthias and I had time to run away and hide. He was very brave. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here now." He looked to Eleanor, who nodded slowly.
"Then Fergus it is. Fergus Cousland, may you do our family proud. Maker Guide your way, my son." The Teyrna kissed her babe before handing him off to Bryce, the faint pang of guilt at hearing Matthias's name overshadowed by her pride and happiness at being able to provide her husband with an heir.
Bryce's eyes widened in awe as Fergus reached out of his blanket to close a tiny fist over his father's index finger. As the fire crackled behind him, the nobleman silently thanked the Maker, vowing that his son would grow up in a Ferelden free of tyranny.