Chapter Text
Her breath was rugged when she shakily lowered herself onto the ground, her hand pressed against her swollen belly. The floorboards creaked under the pressure, and the wind outside the window howled like a wolf under the full moon. With sweat dripping down her forehead, she leaned against the wall.
Her bow lay abandoned at her side, arrows scattered around it.
She let out a muffled groan when her abdomen contracted, and pain exploded through her body. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into the flesh and distracting her from the pain in her stomach. Her eyes twitched in panic when she shakily moved towards a more comfortable position.
It was the night Free folk attacked Mole's town, and she could almost hear the sounds of the battle happening, a distant clash of steel, and the shouts of wounded men.
Ygritte wished she could be a part of it, stealing and killing people. Causing pain instead of feeling it.
But it didn't matter anymore. Now, she had her own battles. Ones that needed to be fought alone.
Ygritte hated feeling weak. She hated being useless, tired, and sick, but in the past months, she felt nothing but that.
It hurt to see the way they looked at her. Either with disgust or with pity. And she didn't know which one she hated more. She hadn't told anyone, but it was obvious enough for them to start talking when they thought she couldn't hear them.
At least Tormund didn't say anything, but she would be a fool to believe he hadn't known either. The furs she wore could hide her abdomen only for so long before it was too big to conceal.
The only person she could be sure was left clueless was Jon, no matter what, he had said when she'd last seen him. He had still known nothing. Nothing of the consequences their relationship had. Nothing of the life growing inside her. Nothing of the nights she spent in solitude, crying, and missing him more than she would ever admit. He knew nothing.
And the worst part was that she'd chained herself at her own wish, lost her freedom due to a foolish feeling she should have known wasn't going to save either of them. Now, her crow was back with his flock. And her's had left her. Or rather, she left them. Snuck out the moment she realized what was happening. Maybe they hadn't noticed her disappearance. She wished they hadn't noticed, but deep inside, she was sure they knew where she was, and worse, why she was there.
Ygritte took a deep breath, feeling the pain coming back, and her vision blurred. She clenched her teeth letting out another muffled sob.
The pains started that morning, at first she tried to brush them aside, tell herself that it was all right, that it would disappear soon, but when it didn't, Ygritte ventured into the outskirts of the town and found a small inn.
She was almost completely sure she was doing it all wrong. But who would help her? Her people didn't care, thinking of her as a liability, a weak point, and an idiot who decided to carry a child into a war. And the townspeople were busy stopping the attack from happening at the very moment. It was a miracle she found this place.
Ygritte knew whining and blaming others wouldn't help her, but she had cursed Jon's name so many times by now that she wouldn't be surprised to find out he dropped dead in that fancy castle of his.
The worst part was that she still wanted to see it, and no matter what she'd told herself, she wanted to see him. She wanted him to know so desperately that she almost told him when she had last seen him. Instead, she stuffed him full of arrows and let go, knowing that if his 'brothers' knew of his broken oaths they would most likely kill them both. It was better this way, she whispered to herself, but the lie tasted bitter on her tongue.
Ygritte still remembered the moment she realized it, the moment she found out about the life growing inside her. At first merely an annoyance she couldn't even fully process.
Soon, a problem she refused to get rid of, how foolish of her was it to hope for a better future for her child? At the beggining she wanted to tell Jon, but seeing him leave made her realise his loyalty would forever be on his brothers' side, a truth she always knew but pretended to forget when they'd lain together under the stars. He wouldn't want to be a father to a wildling, a bastard child he so desperately didn't want.
And with passing months she got used to it. Ygritte got used to pain, and nausea she faced every day, she got used to mean comments from some of the men, she got used to changes her body endured, and she got used to small kicks lifting her skin. Suddenly, getting rid of her child wasn't even something she'd wanted anymore.
She took another shaky breath when the contractions reappeared.
Hours seemed to blend together almost to easily, the world around her narrowing into a singular agony of bringing her babe into the world. More sweat slicked her hair to her forehead as she panted, and every breath burned her throat, sore from the screams she wasn't able to hold back.
She felt as if this would never end. She was fierce, but one only had enough strength to give before it was too much. For a moment, she thought she might die here. Alone, cold, and in pain. A pathetic death she'd deserve for her ridiculous choices. But she was alive, still fighting as she always did. She bore down again, her body trembling when she pushed, and she felt the world closing in as another wave of pain gripped her.
But then, a cry.
The wail pierced through the stillness, raw and powerful when her child came into the world. With her hands trembling, she reached down, and as carefully as she could, she pulled her wee one closer. Tears were still running down her cheeks as she brought her daughter up. The small thing was wriggling in the dim light as Ygritte pressed her child closer to her chest, hoping it would stop her screaming. The babe was small, her skin slick and pink. Her hair was red, kissed by fire just like her own, but she had her father's curls. She breathed in relief, her wee one looked healthy.
The child's cries softened when Ygritte gently wrapped her in warm furs and cradled her against her chest. Only now did she fully feel the true extent of her exhaustion.
Ygritte could feel the strange mixture of happiness and sorrow washing over her. It was over, for now. For a little while, she could rest.
The baby stirred in her arms, her little hands moving around and clenching into small fists. She finally opened her eyes, revealing a pair of violet irises. Ygritte froze, surprised. She always thought a small one like her could only have blue eyes, piercing like ice, but her daughter's were like a flower found on a mountain. For a few moments, she feared her babe would not see, a condition that in the wild could only mean death, but she didn’t seem blind to her. The color was just unusual.
For a moment, Ygritte looked away from her daughter and pulled more furs and covers over her own trembling body. She needed to rest, she knew it. Her hands were shaking and it was almost too hard to keep her eyes open, but for some reason, she hesitated.
Ygritte knew she'd have to go back soon. She would join the battle and fight with her people no matter how hard it would be. She couldn't abandon them during a war.
Still, she felt torn. She didn't want to leave her baby, even if only for a few minutes or hours. She wasn't sure if she would be able to stand up. She didn't want to leave. For a second, she even thought about living like this, away from the battle, away from harm, pain, and constant fear. Away from the crow who stole her heart. It would be safer like this, for both of them. But Ygritte knew it wasn't meant for her. She was a fighter, and her daughter would have to grow up to be one too if she were to have a chance.
At least that was what she chose to believe as her eyelids closed. She needed to sleep, to let her body regenerate before the upcoming battle. Her soft hands caressed her little girl's red locks as she drifted away.
❆❆❆
He stood right there, in the middle of battlefield, smiling. Smiling at her. At the woman he had betrayed and abandoned. Smiling at the woman who made him break his oaths, and shot him full of arrows. How could he stand there and smile at her when her arrow was, again, pointed straight at his chest? Maybe he knew she couldn't do it. Was she really easy to see through? Was it so obvious she was happy to see him alive and well? And suddenly, all she really wanted was to drop her bow into the snow and throw herself into his embrace.
But she realized she couldn't.
An arrow.
She let out a wheeze, almost a cry as the arrow pierced her chest and the air ran from her lungs. She looked down and then up at him again, trying to understand what exactly happened. The smile that lingered on his face just seconds ago was gone now. Suddenly everything went quiet, it all happened so fast—her bow slipping out of her hands, her knees buckling underneath her and Jon catching her as she fell backward. It was hard to breathe as more pain tore through her chest. She felt as if she couldn't do this. But she still fought, too desperate to leave just like that.
"Jon Snow..." She breathed, her voice weak and hoarse. The arrow must have pierced her lungs.
"Don't talk." Jon's voice sounded desperate, and his eyes were as if covered in mist. It was as if he couldn't understand what exactly was happening. As if he was searching for an answer, for a way to fix this. But she knew there was none. This was the end.
"You remember that cave?" Ygritte whispered, her eyes locked onto his, fighting to keep them open so she could look at him, for the last time, so she could remember his pretty face even if right now his expression was nothing, but pure fear.
He nodded, answering her question as his hands held her softly, with almost too much care.
"We should have stayed in that cave." Each word was like a battle as blood started filling her throat, but she forced a smile onto her lips. The cave would have been a good home, for them. For their daughter.
He stuttered, trying to control the sob threatening to escape his lips. "We'll go back there." He said, but she knew even he didn't believe in those words.
"You know nothing... Jon Snow." Ygritte pressed her hand against his cheek, caressing it softly. Her heart ached, she wanted to say more, but she could feel her mind slipping and her eyes closing. No, no, no. He had to know. She had to be safe. Ygritte tried to fight it, but suddenly, all she felt was darkness and the warm touch of his forehead against hers. And she couldn't talk, even though she wished to scream.
Maybe if she hadn't hesitated, she wouldn't have been such an easy target. Shot from behind. This really was a pathetic death. But while she struggled to keep her eyes open, held tightly by his arms, she thought she wouldn't have had it any other way. She saw the castle, she loved someone, that someone betrayed her, and yet she trusted his words when he had said he loved her, she'd seen it in his dark, brooding eyes, she felt it in his touch. They had lived, she was his, and he was hers. And at least she could be with him in her final moments. With her last breath leaving her lips, Ygritte could only pray he'd find their daughter before it was too late.