Work Text:
“M - m - mo…”
“Look, sweetie,” Baelin’s mother said. She was playing with her son after just feeding him a meal of carrots and trout.
Baelin’s father came over, planting a kiss on his wife’s head. It was a hard day of fishing, the sun was hot out and beating on his head. He lost his hat out on the river a few days ago; the wind blew it off and it had been carried down the current. He would need to go into town soon and get a new one since summer was near-approaching.
There were still a few hours left in the day, but he wanted to check on how his wife and child were doing.
Baelin’s father couldn’t wait for his son to become a boy, so they could go on their first fishing trip together. He would teach young Baelin which bait to use, what to do in case his rod snapped, and how to prepare fish for meals. Baelin’s father did this for his family, and his father before him. One day, Baelin would do this too.
“Look,” Baelin’s mother repeated. “He’s trying to say something.”
“M - mo - mooo…”
“Is he trying to say mother?” Baelin’s father asked, looking between his son and wife.
“I think he is!” Baelin’s mother said excitedly. “Come on, baby. Yes, that’s right. Momma. Mo-mma.”
Baelin struggled with the words, stuttering his Ms for another minute or two. His parents encouraged him, drawing out the word mom, mommy, and momma for their son to say.
Baelin struggled some more: “Mo - mo - mooooo…”
Until he finally closed his eyes and belted with his lungs.
“MORNIN’!”