The winter cold wasn't far away. October passed quickly, followed rapidly by November. Esmeralda's baby dropped lower in her belly.

"That means it's almost ready to come out," she informed Claude, "it's turned upside down with its head towards the birth canal, or at least that's what most of them do."

She explained to them what the signs of labor were and what to do to ease any discomfort that Esmeralda might have. Claude blushed at some of it, but she merely patted him on the cheek and informed him that "they all have to learn sometime."

They waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Several days passed by in anxious waiting, but it remained in vain. The first hard freeze spread across Paris, coating everything in silvery-white furry frost. It was still late autumn, but the snow didn't know that. The first snow blanketed Paris overnight and Claude had to encourage the fire after rising for his late-night/early morning prayers. Esmeralda shivered under the covers.

"I'm so sorry," Claude apologized, "stay right there."

He tucked the covers in tightly around her where she was almost cocooned in like a caterpillar. Then, mumbling to himself, he roused the deep red embers in the fireplace. Eventually, he managed to get a full-fledged fire going. He wouldn't come back to bed until it was built up very well and roaring. The darkness and cold fled from the heat and light. He stood back to examine it for a moment, then turned to her, obviously satisfied.

"I'll be back in a moment…I should probably make sure the children's fire is going as well. It must be terribly cold in the tower…"

She nodded and he disappeared.

Shivering, Claude ran all the way up the stairs. As long as his blood was pumping, he knew he would stay warm from the exercise. He was careful, though, not to work up a sweat and risk getting a chill.

Jehan was already loading wood into the little wood stove. He beat his hands against his thighs, trying to get the circulation going into them again.

"Old winter's paid us an early visit, hasn't it? I can see my breath! God-"

Claude's stern look cut him off.

"Oh, don't tell me you haven't come close at times!" Jehan grumbled.

Quasimodo had heard the noise and come to investigate. The sun was just rising. He tugged at the sleeve of Claude's dressing gown and Claude reluctantly followed him. He desperately wanted to go back downstairs and cuddle up next to Esmeralda.

"Look, Master!"

The city spread out at their feet, all blanketed in snow. The sun made the snow shine different colors. It was truly, a grand sight.

But Claude would have preferred to see it when he was fully awake and not half-frozen.

"Go back to bed until it warms up," he instructed both Jehan and Quasimodo.

They did.

Claude hurried back down the stairs. He hoped he wasn't too icy to the touch for Esmeralda.

"Are you all right?" he asked her, concerned about the face she was making.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Esmeralda said, "I must have just lain wrong…my back feels a little sore."

"Can you turn on your side?"

She did. She sighed in pleasure when his gentle hands kneaded her back.

"Feel better?" he asked after a while.

"Yes."

He gently slid her into his arms. She breathed in his warm, clean scent. What a wonderful man…and to think he had once been considered the least likely of those she would love! She gazed into his blue eyes. Despite their color, they contained more warmth than even the fire.

He had been so patient…he never once showed frustration with her when she had been sick. The worst she'd gotten was a frustrated sigh when she was sick down the front of his robes once. He'd said nothing and gotten changed immediately. He'd put her own needs ahead of his own and she'd had to remind him to take care of himself, too. Even on days when he seemed surly or cross about something, he was very careful never to direct it at her or any other undeserving parties. He was stroking her hair in such a way that she became drowsy and fell asleep again.

When she woke again, Claude was gone. His robes were missing from the chair, so she assumed he'd had to start work. She grunted when she realized that a searing pain in her abdomen was what had woken her up. It was warmer in the room now, so the cold didn't prevent her from getting up. She waited for the pain to pass, then tried to sit up. For some reason, it seemed to take too much effort. She fell back on the bed with a gasp.

"Jacques! Thank goodness!"

The young priest had just poked his head in the door.

"Claude sent me to check on you—are you all right?"

Seeing her face twisted in pain, he rushed to the side of the bed.

"I hurt….oh….get the midwife….please…"

"I'll be back in a moment," he said quickly, turning on his heel and dashing out of the room. She could hear him shouting for Claude all the way down the hall.

A few minutes later, Claude hurried into the room. He was red in the face, sweating, and breathing heavily from having run all the way up here.

"What is it? Is it the baby?" he gasped.

"I think so….AAH!"

She cried out as another wave of pain consumed her. It felt as though someone had stabbed a red-hot sword into her belly. Claude took her hand. Her fingers were slick with sweat.

"Jacques has gone to get the midwife," he told her, "is there anything I can do?"

"I don't know…" she gasped, tears flowing down her cheeks.

He was scared and so was she. He held onto her hands and started to pray feverishly. Her fingers tightened painfully around his and he was afraid she would actually break his hands before it was over with. He began to count in his head. Soon, the contractions were coming three minutes apart. She seemed more comfortable sitting up than lying down; he supported her upper body with his own. The gush of warmth surprised him. For her sake, he tried not to panic, but he knew nothing about babies being born.

The midwife burst through the door as he was trying to mop up some of the fluid.

"The waters must have broken already," she commented, "it won't be much longer now."

Seeing the puzzled look on Claude's face, she nearly smiled.

"The baby is encased in a bag inside of her," she told him, "the waters that surrounded it protected it. Now that it's coming out, it no longer needs the water."

He seemed relieved to know that this was supposed to happen.

"If you would, just step outside, Your Worship," the midwife said calmly. She meant only to keep him from worrying, but this had the opposite effect.

"I am NOT leaving her," Claude said firmly.

"As you wish."

Who was she to question the archdeacon? She only hoped the experience didn't traumatize him too much.

Meanwhile….

"Jacques? What's happening? Is Esmeralda all right?" Ginger asked after having seen the entire cathedral go into an uproar.

"She'll be fine," Jacques said (more calmly than he felt), "she's having the baby today."

"Why won't they let us in?" Andrew asked.

"Having a baby is a very difficult thing to do, or so I've been told," Jacques explained, "but don't worry; Claude's in there with her and she has the midwife to help her. You'll probably see your brother or sister soon."

Jehan was grinning ear to ear.

"My brother, the monk, the priest…who knew?" he chuckled.

"Are you happy, Uncle Jehan?" Ginger asked.

"Well, of course I am! I think I was born to be an uncle," Jehan said, picking her up and swinging her around.

Quasimodo had also gotten wind of the new arrival coming today and was noisily ringing the bells. All of Paris would know of this! His master had helped create a life!

…

"I can feel the head now," the midwife told Claude, "it won't be much longer now."

She had been instructing Esmeralda to push for the last hour. They had positioned the poor gypsy in every position imaginable to try and help the baby come out faster. She was now sitting on her knees with them spread apart. Standing at the side of the bed, Claude supported her from behind with his arms around her. She was on one corner of the bed so that the midwife could reach her easily.

Unable to do anything about the intense pain she was suffering, Claude whispered to her, sang to her, and peppered her cheek in kisses. He could not make her stop hurting, but he could at least get her to think about something else. Her other senses seemed to be blotted out by the pain, but she held onto his voice.

"Esmeralda, you must push! The cord's wrapped around its neck! Come on, girl, your baby's life depends on you!"

That woke her up.

Gathering the last of her strength, she bore down hard. Her entire body felt like it was being torn apart. She couldn't even cry out because she hurt so bad. Just when she thought she was going to faint, the pressure vanished.

"There!" the midwife announced triumphantly.

Esmeralda sagged backwards against Claude. She was vaguely aware of warm tears on her neck, of his frantic kisses, of the shaking of his body from his joyous sobs The thin, wailing cry of the infant added to all the chaos.

"Congratulations," the midwife said warmly, "you now have a daughter."

Esmeralda's senses began to reawaken. The first thing she could see through her blurred vision was the tiny pink body in the woman's arms. The sticky stuff was washed away and the cord was tied off and cut. The tiny thing was placed in her arms.

Then, the world seemed to stop turning for a moment. Esmeralda didn't even notice the midwife rubbing her belly to get her to expel the afterbirth. She was only vaguely aware of it being removed.

She already had a downy patch of dark hair, indicating that she would resemble Esmeralda somewhat when she got older. The midwife explained that many babies had blue eyes at birth, but they might change colors when the baby got older. Her little wrinkled face was all scrunched up as she wailed and wailed and wailed. She was, Esmeralda supposed, determined to announce her birth to the world.

The soiled bedding was gathered up and removed. Clean linens were brought in and Claude took the baby while the midwife helped Esmeralda get cleaned up and changed.

She smiled as she watched him kiss her little forehead and her little round nose and cheeks. Baptized in her father's tears, Esmeralda didn't doubt for one second that she would grow up fully swaddled in his love.

Claude could hear her little heart beating and it was the most precious music he had ever heard. His own pounding heart beat a rhythm to complement it.

"May I…show them?" he asked Esmeralda.

"Of course," she said warmly.

Claude took their baby out into the hallway.

"What did you do, Jacques? Squeeze everyone in this cathedral into this hallway?" he couldn't help but ask.

"There are some from the outside as well," Jacques announced sheepishly, "a few of the gypsies wanted to see their newest kin."

"Where are Andrew and Ginger?" Claude asked.

"Here we are, Father!" Andrew said, shoving his way through the crowd. Claude didn't have the heart to scold him about manners right now. Ginger was right behind him.

"I want to introduce you to someone," Claude said softly, "this is your new sister."

He turned the baby so that her face showed. Ginger squealed and Andrew almost yelled, but he clapped both hands over his mouth. He didn't want to scare the baby.

"She's tiny," Ginger commented, gently touching her cheek, "but she'll be big like me one day, won't she?"

"Yes, she will," Claude said warmly, "and you will have to help her learn how to be a young lady."

Ginger nodded solemnly.

"May I hold her?" she asked very politely.

"Later," he promised, "when the excitement dies down a little. She's had a very long day and a very hard journey."

"All right."

Ginger kissed the baby's cheek, then Andrew did. Jehan protectively urged the crowd back and told them they would have their turn eventually.

"Welcome to the light, little one," he said affectionately to the baby.

Jacques was allowed to hold her for a moment since he was partly responsible for her existence. He was honored and moved to tears when Claude informed him that he was to be her godfather.

"I won't let you down," he sighed happily, "any of you. Now, take that baby back to her mother before Esmeralda forgets her!"

Claude smiled and gave Jacques a one-armed hug as he took the baby. In his "announcement" voice, he cleared his throat and the crowd was silent. Though the baby was not usually named in those times until it was sure to survive, he decided not to wait.

"In case any of you were wondering, her name is 'Celeste', which means 'Heaven'. Go in peace."

The crowd dispersed and the cathedral was quiet again (except for Quasimodo and his bells). They only stopped ringing when he came downstairs to see Celeste.

"Master made you," Quasimodo told Celeste, "and he will love you forever."