Written for Day 2 of Jon x Sansa Fanfiction's 15 Days of Valentine's challenge. Title is from the lullaby "Sleep My Babe."

The mewling of an infant shattered the quiet of the bedroom. Her cries echoed off of the stone walls until her mother rolled out of bed and picked her up out of the old pine cradle in which she herself had once lain many years ago. No sooner had she begun to hum soothing noises to her child, though, than another baby's cry split the air. A dark-haired man stirred, swung his legs to the floor, and stumbled over to the cradle holding the infant's brother.

"Ned?" questioned the woman, barely managing to sweep her long red hair out of the reach of her daughter's fists as she did so.

"Here, love," the man mumbled, his voice a shade more gravelly than usual. He turned to her as he cradled his son in his arms.

"Cat?" he said, and she nodded toward the baby in her arms. Her husband nodded. Once his infant son's screams had calmed and become merely a series of loud murmurs, he reached over to brush the cheek of his now quiet daughter. His gaze rose to catch his wife's blue eyes, and the moonlight streaming in through the window made them glitter as she granted him a soft smile.

Her husband's hand reached up to brush a stray lock of hair gently away from her face. After a couple of moments, he turned in the direction of a third cradle, this one containing a sleeping baby boy with a shock of auburn hair. His wife's gaze followed his.

"I thought they might wake Robb up for certain," she whispered. "Perhaps he'll be our calmest one. Just like you, my love." When she turned back toward him, the moonlight twinkled across her eyes. Her husband's lips turned upward, and he took two steps toward her so that their arms, still cradling their children, brushed against each other. The man leaned over to plant a tender kiss on his wife's forehead.

"He takes his looks from you, love," he whispered, "so it matters not to me if he is as calm as his uncle or as fierce as his aunt." He leaned down and placed his now-sleeping son back in the cradle.

"As long as he has your heart," his wife replied, following suit with their daughter, "it matters not to me who he looks like." Her smile split into a yawn, and she trudged back to their bed and lowered herself gratefully onto the sheets. Her husband climbed in beside her and immediately reached over to take her in his arms. The woman responded at once by curling her body into his and wrapping her own arms around him. She closed her eyes and nuzzled into his neck as he dropped a tender kiss to her forehead.

"Sansa, my love," he murmured, "you are the most beautiful mother I have ever seen."

His wife let out a soft giggle. "And you the kindest father, Jon. You've never gotten cross even during Ned's worst fits."

He kissed her temple in response. "Because you always find a song to sing to calm him and Cat, love. And Robb, when he decides to chime in."

Sansa reached one hand upward to cradle her husband's cheek. "Because you are the one who made me able to sing again, my love," she whispered, and reached up to settle her lips gently against his.