Hans bounced Stefan on his knee, feet clicking against the wood floor. 

The little boy was six now and growing like a weed. Hans didn't know how much longer he would be able to cradle his young son before he grew too big for such things. 

The quiet little cottage was enveloped with the sharp light of the fire, burning silently, in respect for Hans and his family.  There was silence in the bedroom, where his wife and her caregiver were, waiting for the child that had not yet desired to come. Hans wished dearly for the small little cry that was inevitable to be heard. 

For a moment, there was a whisper, Brigitte, no doubt, stroking Hanneke's head and holding her hand. 

That must be good then, there was some progress going to be made. Hans hoped and prayed for it. He could not stand to be away from his wife for more than a minute in this apparel, but she had been far too headstrong and sent him to their oldest child, to wait, to watch. 

"Papa, my tummy hurts." The dark curls nuzzled into his neck snapped him to the reality before him. 

Stefan had gotten a horrible cold the week prior to the baby's due, but there had been no way to head down the mountain in the harsh winter weather, and the cold had prevailed over him for much longer than needed. 

The little boy shivered and clicked his teeth together. 

"Can I go to bed now?" Hans patted his back, kissed his curls. 

"Not yet remember, she is almost here." 

The words seemed to have no effect for the next few minutes. There continued to be silence, with only the light casting a sense of sound over the house, a glowing, shivering, impending anticipation. 

But when the clock finally hit midnight, there seemed to be a veil ripped from the house. 

A baby's cry could be heard through the thick wood. 

A baby's cry.

Hans set Stefan down unto the floor heavily, and rushed towards the bedroom, pressing his ear to the door. 

A baby girl, no doubt! He had hoped, since there was his son, there would be a daughter this time. 

He could hear the sounds of the babe, shaken with the newfound life it was given, and a soft shushing, one he determined to be Hanneke's. 

He waited a second more, and then knocked. 

"Hanneke? Hanneke, dear? Is it a girl?" 

Brigitte was the one who answered. 

"No, sir."

Hans chuckled. 

"Well then, that's alright! Another son? Might I see him?"

"No, sir. I don't think it would be well for you to do so."

Hans stopped, the smile that brightened his face, melting within an instance. 

"What do you mean? I want to see my boy and wife." His nails dug into the wood.

"I'll bring him to you sir." 

The door threatened to knock him in the face when it was opened. 

Brigitte came out, white hair tied into a bun that sat upon her crown. 

In her hands, she held a baby swaddled in cloth. His baby. His baby boy. 

Hans felt the smile, until he saw Brigitte's face. Tears streamed down her withered skin. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. 

"S-sir, Mrs. Hanneke, s-she is not well." 

Hans stilled. "Where is she?"

Brigitte sobbed. "I'm very sorry, sir! It was too much for her! I'm sorry!"

Hans nodded and turned on his heel. The fire shone tears in his eyes. 

"I'm taking Stefan to bed." He said, striding over to the living room chair, and scooping the boy up and setting him on his hip. 

"Wait! Sir, the baby! Don't you want to name him?" 

Hans kept walking, he stepped up the spiraled staircase that led to the Stefan's room, and the new nursery. 

"I don't want it. You do it."

Hans disappeared, and the door slammed. 

Brigitte stood still and held the little baby in her arms. 

He had yet to make a sound since his birth, since that first cry of life. He had not cried since Hanneke's chest rattled with her last breath and life had receded from her. 

It was like the child had known his mother had gone from him and quieted for her sake. 

Brigitte crossed from the doorway and let the door close behind her. Hanneke lay still crumpled, eyes wide, in her husband's bed. 

She slid to the floor, and cradled the babe, bringing him close to her face. 

"Oh, Hals. Oh, sweet little Hals. How beautiful you are."

The babe opened his eyes for a second, to look up at Brigitte, as if he had somehow acknowledged the name to be his on his own. 

Brigitte wondered if he could tell if she was not his mother. 

She leaned down and kissed him softly upon the head, her lips barely brushing the little hairs that he already had. 

"Go to sleep, my little Hals. Mama Brigitte will be here to protect you until the sun crests." 

The babe yawned and closed his eyes. 

Brigitte clenched her teeth as she cried.