*Warning*

There's a birth scene in this chapter. I described what was happening, but I do not describe any gore. Y'all know what you can personally handle, so advance at your own risk:)

Seriously though, unless you have a serious phobia of childbirth, you should be fine.

As the day progressed, Jon's anxiety grew. Seeing Ygritte in so much pain was hard for him to watch.

He was thankful for the time between contractions, when her body relaxed and the pain eased. During this time, he would try carry a small conversation in order to keep her distracted.

By late afternoon, she was too tired to keep talking with him. She asked him to keep encouraging her, even when she didn't respond. His voice soothed her, and she listened intently to his words.

Jon sat on the bed behind her, supporting her head and back against his chest. He held her hands, assuring her that he was there for her.

Ygritte squeezed his hands whenever a contraction came. Jon's hands grew sore with time, but he did not mind.

Sometime late that evening, she muttered to him, "You should gather... the supplies..." She breathed. "I'm getting... close." Her voice was winded and tired, and Jon knew what she said was true.

He kissed her forehead and left the room. He gathered fresh blankets, candles for extra lighting, and a fur wrap for the newborn.

Jon stood in their yard, next to the fire, as he waited for the pot of water to boil.

The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, turning the sky into a color swirl of pinks and oranges. The colors relaxed him after spending the day in such a stressed environment.

Once the water was scalding hot, he placed a pair of cutting shears into the pot. They needed to be sterile.

When Jon returned to the house carrying the prepared supplies, his adrenaline kicked in. He was no longer nervous for what was ahead. No matter how horrible it was to watch, he would help her. He loved her and she needed him right now.

Ygritte was standing near the edge the bed. Her hands were pushing into the mattress in front of her, and she swayed her hips slowly back and forth as she heavily breathed through the contraction.

Jon set the supplies and the cradle near the end of the bed. Ygritte's body calmed in his presence and she relaxed even more when he soothingly rubbed her back.

The warm pressure from his hands relaxed her distressed muscles. He kissed her damp brow. "How are you doing?"

"I need to push." Her voice was high from distress and her face muscles were tight. Jon fixed the pillows for her, and then helped her gently climb into bed. She breathed heavily and kept her face muscles tight.

Jon made sure the pillows kept her head and shoulders elevated above her pelvis, so it would be easier for her to push.

Ygritte used her hands to pull her knees up and out of the way. She was so focused, considering the amount of pain she was in, and Jon admired her for it.

As the next contraction seized her, Ygritte put her chin to her chest, gritted her teeth, and pushed.

Jon placed his hands on the arches of her feet, pushing her legs up, giving her support as she bared down.

The top of the baby's head came into view, and Jon couldn't help but smile. She was doing it; their baby was being born.

As Ygritte rested between contractions, Jon described the top of the head to her.

"There's a lot of dark hair, just like me!" His voice was full of excitement.

Ygritte was in too much pain to respond vocally, so instead she reached down to her foot and grasped Jon's hand, gave a tight squeeze, and then returned to her knee. She heard him. She was excited, too.

After another few pushes, the head popped fully out.

Jon used his hand to cradle baby's small head.

Once Ygritte heard Jon tell her that the head was out, she knew she was almost done. Just one more big push...

She bore down and pushed as hard as she could; Jon gently turned the baby's shoulders as the little one slid into his arms.

He couldn't believe it. It was a boy. A small, fragile, innocent little boy.

The baby gasped and cried. Jon quickly cut the cord and set the baby on Ygritte's stomach.

Ygritte, overcome with the pleasure of motherhood, began to tear up as she clutched their little boy.

Jon moved to sit next to Ygritte on the bed. He put one arm around her and one arm around their baby.

Ygritte cooed softly to the baby while Jon wiped him down and wrapped him in a soft fur.

Ygritte slid her tunic off of her shoulder and held the newborn to her chest. The baby began to suckle to his mother's breast.

Once the afterbirth had been delivered and disposed of, Jon offered to help Ygritte get ready for bed.

It took some convincing for Ygritte to put the baby down; she never wanted to let go of her little one. Jon joked that he put all that work into the cradle for nothing, so Ygritte reluctantly agreed and set the baby in his new bed of furs.

Her body was very sore, so she appreciated Jon's help as he changed her into a fresh set of underclothes.

Jon put fresh bedding on their mattress and helped Ygritte lay down. She seemed to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Jon closed the curtains to block out the moonlight, and let his beloved sleep.

The other end of the room, where the cradle was, was illuminated by a small candle.

The baby was laying in his new bed, flailing his arms around as he tried to move. Jon silently stepped toward the candlelight and peered at the baby's face.

His sweet round head was covered in small black curls. His eyes and mouth reminded Jon of Ygritte.

Hesitantly, Jon reached out a hand and placed his palm over the baby's chest. The baby's chest was as wide as his hand, thumb to pinky.

Jon couldn't believe anything could ever be so small.

Carefully, he used one hand to cradle the back of his son's head, while using the other to lift up his body.

Jon brought the baby in close to his chest, snuggling the little one into his body warmth.

The baby cooed at him, reaching out a small hand to feel the furs on his father's cloak.

Jon lost track of time. He could stare at his son's face for hours and never get bored. The baby's eyelids began to grow heavy, so Jon gently rocked him back and forth until he was sound asleep.

His feet ached from standing, so he silently left the bedroom and sat in one of the chairs in the front room.

He spent the night cradling his son in his arms, not daring to miss a moment.

The following morning, just as the sun began to shine through the curtains, Jon heard the bedroom door creak open behind him.

Carefully turning without disturbing the baby, Jon looked upon Ygritte.

She was standing in the doorway, her red hair in a messy braid. The light tunic she'd slept in hung loose around her shoulders, and draped over her still-rounded belly. Her eyes had dark circles underneath, but her face had the biggest smile.

Jon's heart fluttered and a warm sensation spread through him; she was gorgeous.

Ygritte, moving very slowly and stiffly, made her way across the room to Jon and the baby. She sat next to them, and Jon carefully handed her their wrapped bundle.

She slid her tunic off the shoulder and began to breastfeed the little one.

"How did you sleep?" Ygritte said softly to Jon, not breaking her gaze at the baby.

"I didn't," he said, smiling to himself. He wouldn't of wanted his night any other way.

"I've never slept so soundly in my entire life," Ygritte laughed, "but I bet we won't be getting any good sleep for a long time."

"I don't think I'll mind it too much," said Jon, smiling. His loved his new little family more than anything, and he knew that he would do anything to keep them happy and safe.

They sat quietly, listening to the soft sucking sound the baby was making.

"We're a family now." Jon said.

"You always were my family," Ygritte replied and kissed his cheek. "Even when the world pushed us apart, I still chose you. I will always choose you."

Jon smiled. "And I will always choose you."