Bellegere enjoyed watching Brynden spar.

When he held Ravensclaw in his hands, confidence oozed from his pores. He transformed from a lanky young man into a gallant knight every time.

And when Brynden saw his wife watching him with that little smile on her lips, he did his best to impress her.

Bellegere was loathe to interrupt him, but the news she had was urgent.

"My lord."

The fight halted and Brynden strode over to his wife looking down at her curiously.

Something about Belle seemed off.

She could hardly stand still.

"Is something the matter, my lady?"

"Let us speak privately."

Bellegere grabbed his hand and he followed without hesitation.

Once they entered their rooms, she insisted that he sit down but he would not have it. He was much too worried for that.

"Just tell me what has happened."

"Fine," Bellegere said, swallowing thickly.

"My moonblood has not come and Maester Luwin insists that I am with child."

All of the blood in Brynden's head drained down into his stomach, where butterflies began to take flight. He swayed on his feet and Bellegere helped up remain upright.

After a moment, he took her face into his hands and looked down at her with widened eyes.

"You're... I am going to be-"

"Yes," Bellegere said, smiling softly.

"You're going to be a father."

Brynden knew that this would happen eventually, but he never comprehended just how terrifying it would be.

He didn't feel ready.

He wasn't strong enough yet. He hadn't read enough books. He hadn't proven himself to his wife and her people yet.

Now, he was panicking inside himself.

"Breathe, Brynden."

His heart raced in his chest, and the world was spinning around him.

This involuntary reaction from his body was just more evidence of how weak he was. How could he raise a child, let alone a son, in this state?

The boy would turn out like him, and that was a fate worse than death. Especially if he was to be the Lord of Winterfell one day.

He would ruin Bellegere's heir.

"Brynden, look at me."

When he obeyed, shaking like he would faint at any moment, Bellegere kissed him softly to bring him back to the present.

He tasted different.

Like salt and fear.

"I've met many wealthy lords and battle-hardened knights, but I chose you to father my children," she said firmly.

"If I could go back in time, I would choose you every time."

His reddened eyes dared to question her, but his mouth would not speak the words.

She took his hand and placed it over her stomach. The small smile that adorned his face warmed her heart.

"Knowing that my mother died birthing me, having a child terrifies me, Brynden. I have never, ever wanted it," Bellegere said, holding back tears.

He wanted to comfort her, and apologize for making this about himself, but he knew her too well for that.

Instead, he frowned and remained silent.

"Yet, the thought of having our child excites me. A child born of love and friendship. Half of you and half of me. Seeing your eyes on a child with my features. What is more beautiful than that?"

"Nothing in this world," Brynden said with conviction. "Nothing compares."

"So you see, it is alright to be afraid. We can be afraid together. But we mustn't let fear blind us to our blessings or make us believe that we are incapable of being wonderful, loving parents. Because I know we can do it. Together."

She caressed his face and smiled as he blushed a bright red, wishing for the power to wash away all of his self doubt and shame. If only he could see himself through her gaze.

"Know that you are loved by me, Brynden Blackwood," Bellegere whispered, looking up into his eyes.

"Know that you are trusted."

Brynden embraced her carefully as to not cause harm. He hid his face in her hair and hoped she would not feel the wetness of his tears.

If she did, he would blame it on an injury.

Grown men don't cry.