08 Jon Snow

Jon paced back and forth, his heart pounding with excitement. Despite the fact that this was the first time he stood near the delivery room, anxiety and panic remained in his chest. He was now the Lord of the North, and heirs were being demanded of him. The only match that would suit him is you. He chose you because he loved you, because his heart and soul said so. As well as all those terrible events in his life. The birthing bed was not just a place for the first breath of life. It took lives, like a painful exchange for how many babies saw the world for the first time. What would he do if this happened to you? He groaned, running his fingers through his black hair, counting the minutes and hours. He couldn't start the meeting because he knew he couldn't leave you. The contractions started last night at sunset, and it was a terrible time when the maesters almost had a heart attack. I woke them up with staccato orders and intense panting, holding you in my arms. Now he couldn't even stay by your side during this, he was kicked out because he was too "distracting." Finally, after what seemed like hours of walking through the corridors, the door opened. Jon didn't even look at the maid who was holding the door, and he didn't notice her bloody hands when he ran into the delivery room to see you first. Most of all, he was afraid of losing you. There was an unpleasant smell of sweat and blood in the room, but he didn't pay attention to it.

— My love..

He whispered tenderly, touching his lips to your forehead. He didn't care that his presence here wasn't according to protocol. He was waiting to see your living body and support you. To be with you. At some point, his gray eyes touched the midwife, who was standing next to the chest of drawers and was clearly preparing to show the newborn.

— You did well.. everything will be fine. I will always be with you.

He said, pressing his forehead against your cheek, feeling the speed of his heartbeat.