Every night since their first time, Jon and Ygritte lay together, sharing the same furs. Every night they make love and when they finish they curl up in each
other's arms, always naked for they enjoyed the warmth of each other and the curve of the other's body. But this night something was different. Ygritte was
unusually quiet and in their lovemaking she seemed almost "desperate" as if she was trying to cling to him as if he might melt away at any moment. When they
finished Ygritte was on her back staring up at the stars. Jon lay on his side facing her. Suddenly a few tears strolled down Ygritte's cheek. Jon sat up slightly and
leaned on his elbows. "What's wrong?" He had to know, it was not like Ygritte to cry. She turned her gaze toward him, a twinge of fear in her winter blue eyes.
"Please tell me," he begged. Her voice came as a whisper "I'm pregnant.." Jon stared at her completely frozen, her words echoed in his mind. "Are you mad?"
Her eyes searched his, for she knew how he (at least once) felt about the subject. Jon had to think about this. Was he mad? He had told himself he would never
father a bastard. His vows came back to him. I shall take no wife and father no sons. He waited for the guilt, the shame, the panic to come to him but it never
did. He had prayed to the gods a few nights ago to ask them for strength in choosing his path, to know where he belonged. This was their answer. He
remembered what Tormund said about bastards being no weaker, or sickly than any other child. "No," he answered, "I'm…pleased." He smiled, happy and a little
shocked at himself. Ygritte smiled back, relief flowing into her eyes. She quickly brushed the tears away and gave a small child like laugh. "Good, cause I was
rather excited about it when I found out," She said, still smiling. Jon grew excited too. He was going to be a father; the child was of Ygritte the woman he loved.
Nothing else seemed to matter anymore… not his vows, his post, glory, honor, none of it. He was where he was ment to be. He pulled her underneath him and
kissed her. She kissed him back, running her hands down his back, he running his fingers through her kissed by fire hair. He grew hard and she smiled
mischievously at him. As he was about to enter her, he hesitated "What?" she asked. "It won't hurt the…..if we…?" He started. Ygritte laughed into his mouth as
she kissed him. "You know nothing Jon Snow" she said, "No, it won't hurt them." Jon stopped. "Them..?" Jon looked at her wide-eyed. She bit her lower lip as
she smiled. Looking up at him with teasing eyes "twines." Jon smiled like he had never smiled before as he entered her. It was the most passionate and happy
night of his life. When they were done Ygritte's head and arm laid a crossed his chest. "Do you remember the cave," she said. How could I forget thought Jon.
She seemed to hear his thoughts for she lifted her head and gave him sexy smile, "do you remember how I didn't want you to move once you were inside of
me?" "Yes," He answered. She tucked her head under his chin her red hair tickling his nose. Her voice stared to sound sleepy, " I've had a piece of you in me
every night," she drew his hand to her mound "here" she whispered, "and now" she drew his hand to her stomach and place it there "here." He nuzzled her red
hair, filling his nose with her smell. "And soon I will have two pieces of you to hold and love," he said, "I hope at least one of our children has your fire kissed
hair." Lucky. Ygritte smiled, her eyes falling closed, "And I hope they BOTH have your heart." Jon smiled at that, closing his own eyes as sleep soon took him.
Where would they go from here? Certainly not to the wall. Maybe they would go back to that abandoned tower and live there? Or he would take her to Winterfell
and they would live beneath the castle like Bael the Bard. Or maybe they would go back to the cave or go as far as north as north went and claim their own
piece of this world that everyone was going to war over. No matter, they would be together, he, Ygritte, and their children. They wouldn't be bastards, at least not
to him, and certainly not to Ygritte. They would be two perfect pieces of their love.