Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The moonlight spilled softly down the ancient stone steps outside the Tomb of Echidna, painting the ruins in silver. The chaos of the past—the battles, the confessions, the tears—felt distant now, replaced by a fragile, peaceful stillness. Subaru and Emilia sat shoulder to shoulder on the cool stone, the night air wrapping around them like a long-awaited blanket of calm.

Emilia sat quietly, her cheeks tinged with a gentle blush, hands folded in her lap.

“Subaru…”

At the sound of her voice, Subaru’s eyes widened. He straightened like a knight bracing for the final boss of a long dungeon.

“Yes, Emilia-tan? What is it? Are you feeling okay? Is something wrong?!”

She turned to face him, her eyes luminous with sincerity.

“Do you love me?”

There was no pause. Subaru placed a hand over his heart as if pledging a sacred vow.

“Of course I do. Always have, always will. I love you more than I love breathing. More than I love mayonnaise—actually no, scratch that, equally. Wait, no! More! Definitely more!”

Emilia’s smile was bashful, a flicker of shy joy.

“That’s good… because you know, we kissed in the tomb.”

Subaru blinked, cheeks warming in a flash.

“Y-Yeah. I remember. Vividly. Burned into my memory forever. Replaying every night like it’s on loop. Uh, is this going somewhere?”

She nodded, the gesture solemn and regal, as if she were about to declare war.

“I think it’s wise for me to speak with the father.”

Subaru’s hands were instantly slick with sweat.

“…H-Huh?”

Her voice remained calm, but her confidence was absolute.

“I need to have a proper talk. About the baby growing in my belly.”

It was as if his brain combusted.

“…THE WHAT IN YOUR WHERE NOW!?”

Emilia placed both hands gently over her stomach, a faint glow of serene belief in her expression.

“I know it’s soon, and we only just kissed, but I can feel it. A mother knows. I feel a warm fluttering in my belly… that must be it, right? The baby.”

Panic short-circuited his neurons.

“E-Emilia-tan. You know—uh, how do I say this—y-you know that’s not how babies are made, right?”

She tilted her head, blinking innocently.

“…It’s not?”

Subaru tried to tread carefully, as if every word might crumble her entire understanding of reality.

“N-No. No no no. Babies… aren’t made when a boy and girl kiss. Even if they really, really like each other.”

Emilia gasped, scandalized.

“Wait… you mean that’s not the ritual?!”

Subaru facepalmed hard.

“Emilia-tan… Did Puck never explain anything to you!? Did Roswaal raise you on fairy tales and disappointment?!”

“I’ve read books!” she said defensively. “They just… fade to black after the kiss! What else was I supposed to think happened after that?!”

Groaning, Subaru slumped back onto the steps and gazed up at the stars with the weariness of a man who had died far too many times.

“Oh no. Ohhh no. I have to give The Talk. In this world. I’m gonna die again.”

Emilia’s voice turned oddly somber.

“So… are you saying I don’t have a baby?”

“No. There is no baby,” he groaned. “The only thing growing in your belly is probably a very romantic misunderstanding and maybe half a pastry from lunch.”

She pouted.

“…That’s a little disappointing.”

Subaru sat back up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Look, let’s just promise not to talk to Roswaal about this. Or Ram. Or Beatrice. Or literally anyone. Ever.”

Emilia smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Mmm. Okay. But… if I did have a baby, I’d want it to be yours.”

He choked on air.

“Emilia-tan, PLEASE—”

From a bush nearby: a whisper escaped.

“I suppose I’ll be having to explain the birds and the bees to Emilia, I suppose…” Beatrice muttered, horrified.

“If I hear one more word about babies,” Ram added coldly, “I’m pushing Barasu back into the tomb and locking him in there.”

Back on the steps, Emilia rested her chin in her hands, deep in thought, a small pout forming.

“Okay… so maybe I misunderstood how it works exactly. But I still think I’m close.”

Subaru, already depleted of energy, glanced over.

“Close to what?”

“To figuring out how babies really get made!”

His jaw clenched.

“Emilia-tan, no. Please don’t try to science this.”

But she carried on, undeterred.

“So, okay. You said a single kiss isn’t enough, right? But what if that’s just the start of it?”

“Oh no,” Subaru groaned.

“Right, so follow me here,” she said, gesturing with her hands like a scholar mid-lecture. “Maybe when a boy and a girl really like each other, they have to kiss and cuddle very, very close…”

“…Go on.”

“And then they have to sleep in the same bed every night, still cuddling, for like… nine months.”

“…Excuse me?”

“That’s why it takes nine months for a baby to be born! It’s not just time, it’s like… they’re slowly charging up a love meter. Each night they cuddle, the love gets stronger. Until—bam!—baby.”

Subaru buried his face in his hands.

“You think babies are made like… a spirit bomb of affection?!”

“Exactly! You gather love, day by day. That’s why people say ‘they made love,’ right? They’re literally crafting it over time!”

“…I mean, the logic is kind of adorable. Completely wrong. But adorable.”

“See? I am learning. You’re such a good teacher, Subaru.”

“This wasn’t a lesson. This was me trying not to have a heart attack before I turn twenty.”

Then Emilia’s expression changed, her voice filled with wonder.

“Oh! And when people say ‘we’re expecting’—it’s because they don’t know exactly when the baby will happen. Because the love could hit critical mass at any moment.”

“Critical mass!?”

“Of love.”

Subaru laid back on the cold stone steps again, dazed.

“Dear world: Please let this girl never, ever meet Carmilla.”

In the bush:

Beatrice gripped her head.

“I’ll burn those romance novels, I swear it. I’ll burn them all.”

Ram, sipping tea from an unknown source, added dryly,

“If this is what happens when she kisses someone once, imagine if she finds out what actual love-making is.”

And somewhere, Roswaal was probably writing a treatise titled “A Maiden’s Theories on Baby Formation: A Case Study.”

Subaru sat up again.

“Emilia-tan… would you like me to explain the real way?”

Her eyes sparkled with awe and dread.

“Wait, you know the real way!?”

“I mean… yeah. I do. I’m from a place with a national curriculum and awkward health classes.”

“…Is it scary?”

“Well… define scary.”

She grabbed his arm tightly.

“Just tell me. But like… in a very gentle way. I don’t want to faint.”

Subaru opened his mouth, ready to explain—but then Emilia gasped and raised a finger as if discovering gravity.

“Wait, Subaru—don’t tell me! I think I got it! I figured out why you’ve been so embarrassed about this!”

“Oh no. Please, no. Don’t do this, Emilia-tan.”

She clapped her hands together.

“It’s because… the boy and girl have to be naked, right?!”

“…Huh?”

“Of course! That’s why you were blushing so much! I knew you were hiding something.”

“Emilia-tan, please don’t—”

“It totally makes sense. They have to be naked so the love can transfer directly to the belly. Clothes must block it—like a mana barrier!”

“Mana barrier—!? Are you saying babies are born from a direct beam of concentrated love hitting your stomach!?”

“Yes! And being close, with no clothes in the way, lets the love flow straight in! That’s why it’s so intimate! It’s like… spiritual love osmosis!”

“Spiritual—osmosis—?!”

“And that’s why it takes nine months! You have to fill up the belly reservoir slowly! You cuddle naked, share warm feelings, and the love eventually becomes a baby! That’s why people say ‘we’re expecting’ and ‘we made love!’ It’s like alchemy!”

Subaru flattened himself against the steps, staring at the sky.

“…Oh my god. She’s turned baby-making into a weird fantasy crafting system.”

“So… we haven’t done that yet, so I guess I’m not pregnant. That’s a relief. I won’t get the crib.”

“You… you were considering getting a crib?!”

“Beatrice said I was being irresponsible if I didn’t prepare.”

“She was being sarcastic, Emilia-tan!!”

In the bushes:

Beatrice sobbed into a pillow.

“Where did Puck go wrong in raising her, in fact…”

Ram sipped her tea with the grim satisfaction of a woman whose tolerance had long expired.

“I want to punch Barasu. I don’t know why, but I just do.”

Emilia leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper like she was sharing top-secret intelligence.

“So… if we ever do it… the baby-creating thing… can I trust you to go slow? I don’t want to be overfilled with love and explode.”

Subaru choked on air.

“EXPLODE?! WHAT KIND OF MENTAL IMAGE ARE YOU GIVING ME!?”

Her expression turned serious again, a strange kind of nervous honesty clouding her tone.

“I’m just saying I’m not used to high-capacity love transfers. You have to warn me, okay?”

She added more quietly, worry creeping into her voice.

“I just don’t want to explode with love, Subaru.”

Subaru stared at her, still trying to wrap his mind around the sentence he just heard.

“…I—what—wait, WHAT?!”

Panic rose in her eyes as she reached for his hands, gripping them tightly.

“You said you love me more than anything! That’s a lot of love! If it all goes into me too fast, I might just burst! Subaru, I’m not built for high-speed emotional combustion!”

“Emilia-tan, that’s not a thing! People don’t literally explode from too much love!”

“But you said I’m delicate! I’m a half-elf with unstable mana and an unknown lineage! What if I am the first person to explode from concentrated affection?!”

Subaru sputtered, struggling not to laugh or cry.

“You are not going to explode! No one in the history of ever has exploded because someone loved them too much!”

She muttered under her breath, gaze falling.

“But you don’t know that. What if there was someone? What if their body couldn’t handle the love input and they just… popped like a love balloon?”

Subaru covered his mouth, torn between a laugh and a sob.

“Emilia-tan… if I were to ever love you too much, the worst that would happen is you’d get overwhelmed and maybe need a hug. Not detonate like a romantic firecracker.”

But then, Emilia gasped, a new revelation flashing in her eyes.

“Wait… maybe that’s why babies cry when they’re born.”

Subaru flinched like someone had just stabbed him with a truth too powerful to comprehend.

“Oh no.”

“They were filled with so much love, they couldn’t take it anymore! It burst out and became them! That’s why they cry! They’re overwhelmed because they’re so full of love!”

He began softly banging his head against the steps.

“I can’t keep up. I just—can’t.”

Somewhere nearby, a very emotionally compromised Beatrice was now scribbling furiously into a fresh notebook.

“Comprehensive List of Incorrect Baby-Making Theories by Emilia, Vol. I.”

“This is going to be a long series, I suppose…”

Back on the steps, Emilia pressed her forehead to Subaru’s gently.

“But… if I do explode one day… just know I’ll be happy. Because it’ll be from you loving me too much.”

Subaru sighed, absolutely deadpan.

“If you explode from affection, I might actually die.”

But Emilia gasped again, as if struck by a final piece of the cosmic puzzle.

“Wait… Subaru.”

He buried his face in his palms.

“No. Please. No more revelations. I beg you, Emilia-tan.”

But she wasn’t listening.

“I figured it out. Why some people have twins.”

Subaru slowly lowered his hands, bracing for impact.

“…Do I want to know?”

With a proud smile, she declared her thesis:

“It’s because the boy filled the girl with so much love—like, SO MUCH—that it couldn’t just be one baby! The love had to split!”

He blinked slowly, not even surprised anymore.

“…Like… overflow damage?”

“Exactly! So if there’s too much love, the body’s like, ‘I can’t contain this all in one baby!’ and it makes two! Or three! Maybe even six if the boy is really good at love transfer!”

Subaru stared into the middle distance like a war veteran hearing explosions from far away.

“…So you’re telling me that, in your head, twins are just… high-capacity love bundles.”

Emilia nodded excitedly.

“Right?! It makes perfect sense! The more love stored up, the more babies are summoned!”

He exhaled heavily, looking up at the stars again.

“So if someone has quintuplets, does that mean the dad is a literal love explosion?”

Her eyes went wide in horror.

“…That’s terrifying.”

“Yeah. Fear the Quintuplet Maker.”

From behind the bush:

Beatrice took deep breaths into a paper bag that had apparently manifested out of pure necessity.

“She’s going to spread this theory across the kingdom. I must stop this. I must.”

Ram, sipping tea with a stone-faced glare, added,

“Why is she always so wrong?”

Back on the steps, Emilia placed her hands gently on Subaru’s shoulders. Her expression was sincere, her tone solemn.

“So if we ever do… you know… the thing where we transfer love… and you really love me…”

“Yeah?” Subaru asked, cautiously.

“Please go slow. I don’t want quintuplets by accident. Or to burst. Or both.”

“…Right. One baby’s worth of love at a time. Got it.”

“And maybe we can start small! Like… a toe-touch of love.”

“…What does that even mean—?!”

They fell silent for a while, letting the stillness settle. Subaru needed time to recover. His heart needed time to recover.

Then Emilia’s voice came again, soft and distant.

“Subaru… I just thought of something really sad.”

He turned to her, instantly concerned.

“…What is it, Emilia-tan?”

She was staring down at her lap, hands folded tightly, her voice trembling.

“If… if babies are made from love… then… maybe… when a baby dies before it’s born…”

She swallowed hard.

“…it’s because it didn’t get enough love to stay.”

Subaru turned to her fully, the air in his lungs tightening like a vice.

“Emilia—”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her voice barely audible.

“That must be it, right? The love wasn’t strong enough… and the baby faded away. That’s why people cry so much when it happens… because maybe they didn’t love it hard enough. That’s… really sad, Subaru.”

He was quiet for a long moment, watching her expression, carefully weighing every word before speaking.

“…Emilia-tan… no. That’s not true.”

She looked up at him, her confusion visible.

“But… if love is what keeps a baby alive…”

He gently took her hand in both of his, grounding her with warmth and certainty.

“Then no baby in the world would ever die. Not one. Because people love their children so much. Even the ones who never get to be born. Sometimes… the world just isn’t fair. Sometimes things happen that no one can control—not even the people who love the most.”

Her lips trembled.

“…But that means…”

“It means those parents did love them. Maybe more than anything in the world. But that love wasn’t the problem. Ever.”

Emilia finally let the tears spill.

“I… I was being silly again, wasn’t I?”

Subaru shook his head gently.

“No. You were being you. You were trying to understand the world through love. And honestly, Emilia-tan… I think the world would be a better place if more people thought like that.”

She let out a soft sob and looked at him with misty eyes.

“…Subaru, promise me.”

He reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek.

“Anything.”

“Promise you’ll always fill me with enough love. That you’ll never let our future baby feel alone. Even if they don’t make it, I want them to feel wanted.”

Subaru leaned his forehead against hers, his voice steady and full of quiet strength.

“I swear. I’ll love you so much it’ll overflow into them. I’ll love you until the stars go out, Emilia-tan. No baby of ours will ever be unloved—not for a second.”

She smiled through her sniffles, cheeks tinted pink again.

“Even if I accidentally summon triplets?”

Subaru chuckled, voice thick.

“Even if you somehow summon a whole knight’s battalion.”

“Subaru~, that’s too much cuddling. We’d need to cuddle for the rest of our lives to make that many babies.”

Behind the bush, for once, there was silence.

Beatrice hugged her pillow tight, whispering into the fabric.

“…She really is the sweetest fool in the world, I suppose…”

Ram exhaled slowly.

“…That was almost too pure for me. I’m going to pretend I wasn’t here.”

Emilia tilted her head again, a new question brewing.

“Subaru…”

He braced himself.

“…Yes, Emilia-tan?”

“If babies are made from love… then why do they grow in the belly?”

“…Huh?”

“I mean… shouldn’t they grow in the heart instead? That’s where all the love is, right?”

Subaru physically recoiled from the sheer purity of the question.

“A-Ahhh—! Emilia-tan, please, don’t say things that pure! You’re gonna kill me!”

She blinked quickly, alarmed.

“Why? What did I say? Are you going to be fine, Subaru?!”

He clutched his chest.

“You just obliterated me with purity! That line could end wars! Who needs magic when you say stuff like that?!”

“I was just thinking… the heart feels warmer than the belly. So if the baby is made of love, then maybe it should start in the heart and grow out from there.”

Subaru laid back again, covering his face with one hand.

“I’m gonna cry. I’m literally gonna cry. Someone cast a resurrection spell; I’ve died from emotional overload.”

“…But maybe the belly is just the part of the heart that reaches the outside,” Emilia added thoughtfully. “That’s why people hold their stomachs when they’re happy or nervous. It’s the heart’s echo.”

Tears slipped out from under Subaru’s hand.

“Stop it. Please. You’re too powerful.”

Emilia giggled and rested against him.

“You always get so dramatic when I say things like this.”

“That’s because you say things that belong in fairy tales.”

“I think our baby would be happy in either place. In the belly or the heart. As long as we love them.”

Behind the bush:

Beatrice was sniffling louder now.

“I wasn’t ready, in fact. I wasn’t ready for this, I suppose…”

Ram shook her head slowly.

“She said it should grow in the heart. Even I’m tearing up. And I don’t have emotions.”

Subaru gently placed his hand over Emilia’s heart, smiling softly.

“Then no matter where it grows, here or there… I’ll love them. I’ll love you. With everything I have.”

Emilia’s smile grew wide and bright.

“And I’ll do my best to not explode.”

Subaru laughed, his voice trembling with love and exhaustion.

“Deal.”

“I love you, Emilia-tan.”

“I love you too, Subaru.”

Chapter Text

The grand marble chamber echoed with the soft rustle of robes, papers, and unspoken tension. Beneath a vaulted ceiling painted with faded celestial murals, the five royal candidates of Lugunica sat around a large circular table, each flanked by their respective knights.

It was, theoretically, a historic summit: the potential rulers of the Kingdom of Lagunica gathered to finalise a series of diplomatic treaties to ensure peace, commerce, and military cooperation among their factions. The atmosphere was meant to be formal. Dignified. Statuesque.

It was not supposed to be whatever this was about to become.

Emilia cleared her throat, sitting up straighter in her seat. She looked radiant and determined—her silver hair elegantly braided, her lilac eyes sparkling with the kind of inspiration usually reserved for philosophers, inventors… or particularly proud five-year-olds explaining where clouds come from.

“I think,” she began, hands folded neatly, “that treaties are a lot like babies.”

Subaru, seated at her right, immediately looked like a man who had seen death—and remembered all of it in vivid, high-definition detail. Mainly because he was one.

“…oh no.”

Priscilla’s eyebrow arched imperially. “Hoh? This should be worth the suffering.”

Al muttered under his breath, “Should we be worried, Princess?”

Anastasia tilted her head, curious. “Elaborate, Miss Emilia. I admit, this metaphor ain’t one I’ve heard before.”

Julius leaned slightly toward her, already bracing himself.

Felt, who had been balancing her chair on two legs like a bored teenager, perked up. “Wait. I wanna hear this. This sounds dumb.”

Reinhard tried to maintain perfect posture. Tried.

“Don’t use words like ‘dumb’ Felt-sama.”

“Yeah, yeah Reinhard I wanna hear this.”

Crusch nodded politely. “I’m intrigued.”

Felix leaned in, smiling dangerously. “Ohhh~? This is gonna be juicy, I can feel it.”

Emilia, encouraged, placed her hand over her chest. “You see, when two people—like two nations—really love each other and trust each other, they make a commitment. And sometimes… that commitment grows into something bigger. Like a baby!”

A beat of silence.

Subaru was already mouthing, No no no please stop please stop I beg you.

“…So in this analogy,” Crusch asked slowly, “the treaty is the child?”

“Exactly!” Emilia said brightly. “But it’s not just words on paper. No, treaties—like babies—need to be nurtured. They grow inside the hearts of the people involved. Fed by love. And cuddling.”

“…Cuddling?” Julius asked, one eye twitching.

Emilia nodded solemnly. “Yes. Because affection is the key. That’s how babies are made, you see. With love. And lots of cuddling.”

Subaru visibly shrank into his chair, muttering under his breath: “This is happening. I can’t stop it. I live here now.”

Priscilla waved a fan lazily. “Do go on. If nothing else, your folly is entertaining.”

“Well,” Emilia continued, as if giving a perfectly rational briefing on economic reforms, “people think babies come from just a kiss, but that’s just the beginning. The real process is about two people sleeping together—literally! Like, cuddling every night while hugging very close, preferably naked, so the love can diffuse better.”

Felt dropped her chair flat with a loud thunk. “WHAT.”

Felix choked on absolutely nothing. “Nya, this is getting good~?!”

Julius coughed violently. Anastasia casually passed him a handkerchief without looking away from Emilia.

“Wait—what do you mean by ‘diffuse’?” Reinhard asked cautiously, as if carefully prodding a live bomb. Emilia was definitely the live bomb.

“Well,” Emilia said, gesturing academically, “the love has to pass directly from one person to the other, right? So clothes kind of get in the way. I call them ‘love dampeners.’”

“…love dampeners,” Julius whispered, now dead inside.

“Right!” she said, excited now. “So by sleeping very close—naked, of course—the love travels freely. It enters the belly over time. And that’s why it takes nine months!”

Subaru had gone full statue mode. If he could turn into stone through sheer shame, he’d already be a historic monument.

“I call it… emotional osmosis.”

Anastasia blinked slowly. “Emotional. Osmosis.”

“Exactly! And every day, the love fills up more. Until finally…” She clapped her hands gently. “Boom. A baby.”

“I… don’t think that’s how anatomy works,” Crusch tried, valiantly.

Felix looked like he was going to burst from holding back laughter and tears simultaneously.

Emilia kept going, eyes aglow. “And that’s why some people get twins! It’s when there’s too much love, and the body’s like, ‘Oh no! I can’t contain this!’ So it makes two babies to divide the love safely.”

“Like… overflow damage,” Subaru mumbled.

Emilia gasped, delighted. “Exactly! You do understand!”

“I do not want to understand!” he cried.

“I’ve never heard so many scientific words misused in one conversation,” Julius muttered, massaging his temples.

“And it’s why people say ‘we’re expecting,’” Emilia added. “Because you don’t know when the love reaches critical mass. It could be any time!”

Priscilla barked out a single sharp laugh. “Critical mass. She believes childbirth is a magical detonation of fondness.”

“I like this,” Felt said. “I mean, it’s wrong. So wrong. But I like it.”

“See, I knew you’d get it,” Emilia beamed. “And that’s why treaties need the same thing! You can’t just sign and forget them—you need constant affection! Daily cuddles! Otherwise the baby of alliance won’t grow right!”

“Please don’t call it that,” Subaru begged.

Felix, wiping a tear from his cheek, leaned against Crusch. “I haven’t laughed this hard since Reinhard got stuck in that baby swing.”

Reinhard blushed deeply. “Felix, that was classified.”

Anastasia, to her credit, hadn’t broken composure. But her scarf twitched slightly, as if Echidna herself was shaking from silent laughter.

Emilia pressed on. “And also, you have to go slow. Because if you put too much love in too fast, the person receiving it might explode.”

Silence.

“…Emilia,” Subaru croaked. “I need you to understand. People. Don’t. Explode.”

“But they might!” she said, full of genuine concern. “What if someone isn’t used to high love input? Like a half-elf with mana instability and unknown heritage? You know, someone like me?!”

Subaru slapped his forehead with both hands. “I’m in hell.”

“Imagine it!” she went on, now entirely in her own world. “One second you’re cuddling sweetly and then boom! You’re surrounded by baby glitter and affectionate debris!”

“Affectionate debris—” Julius echoed, deadpan.

“Is this… is this what she actually believes?” Al whispered.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Subaru sighed.

“I think I’ve developed a new respect for you, man,” Al said.

“And that’s why treaties can be dangerous too!” Emilia declared. “Too much goodwill too fast, and it overwhelms the system. You have to build trust slowly. Like… like drip-feeding love into a magic belly.”

“Magic belly,” Julius said. “I’m going to need a long walk after this.”

Priscilla had leaned fully back in her chair, looking amused beyond belief. “I am now thoroughly convinced you are either the most foolish girl alive… or the most dangerous.”

“But wait!” Emilia added, raising a finger like a teacher wrapping up a lesson. “The real reason babies grow in the belly is because that’s where the love gathers. The heart sends it down, and it pools there like a little love reservoir. That’s why you get butterflies in your stomach!”

Felix was wheezing now. “She’s… weaponized metaphors. She’s become a prophet of romance!”

Emilia folded her hands, finally concluding with the tone of someone proud of a hard-won dissertation. “So in summary: treaties are babies. Made of cuddles. Fueled by naked love osmosis. Carefully diffused to avoid explosions, twins, or emotional combustion. Thank you.”

Dead silence.

Then Priscilla applauded slowly.

“Well done. I’ve gone deaf from the idiocy, but well done.”

Anastasia coughed. “Can I vote to add a sixth royal candidate? Emilia’s alternate personality, the Cuddle Theorist?”

Felt slammed the table. “Someone needs to write this down. This is the best lesson I’ve ever had!”

Felix was curled over Crusch’s chair. “I want to believe. I want to believe this is real.”

Julius had begun scribbling something furiously.

“What are you writing?” Al asked.

“Resignation letter,” Julius said flatly.

Reinhard looked at Subaru. “Should we… say something?”

Subaru, absolutely drained, whispered, “I don’t have the strength. If I even try to correct her, she’ll end up thinking pregnancy happens by literally anything other than sex.”

Emilia sat quietly now, pleased, looking at the table with that satisfied look of a student who just nailed their presentation.

Subaru finally turned to her and gently asked, “Emilia-tan… do you still want to be queen?”

She nodded confidently.

“…Then never explain treaties like that again.”

She smiled innocently. “Why? I think I made it clearer than anyone else!”

Felix sobbed from laughter. “You sure did, honey. You sure did.”

Behind Subaru, Beatrice suddenly came into view holding a massive book labeled: “Comprehensive List of Incorrect Baby-Making Theories by Emilia, Vol. II.”

“Too late to fix this, in fact,” Beatrice sighed. “It’s already out there. I must now find a way to erase the memory of every person in this room.”

Ram stood behind her with crossed arms. “I vote we let it spread. Just to see what chaos unfolds from Barasu’s misinformation.”

”I had no role in this, it was all Emilia-tan!”

Al gave Subaru a thumbs up. “Your girl’s nuts, bro.”

“I know,” Subaru sighed. “And I love her. Even if she thinks twins are love overflow bundles.”

Emilia blinked. “Wait… isn’t that true?”

Subaru slowly slid under the table.

”Yeah, sure it is Emilia-tan.”

Chapter Text

The royal summit had… derailed.

In the aftermath of Emilia’s impassioned presentation equating diplomatic treaties to love-fueled babies, the marble-floored chamber of nobility had transformed into something more akin to a fever dream. Papers were forgotten. Chairs had been kicked. The Knights were now visibly praying to Od Laguna. The air still trembled with the echo of her closing words: “So in summary: treaties are babies. Made of cuddles. Fueled by naked love osmosis.”

And just as the room had begun recovering—just as Julius had located his will to live, just as Felix stopped laughing, just as Reinhard had composed himself back into knightly posture—Emilia stood up again.

She smiled like a child about to unveil a macaroni art project that she believed would cure cancer.

“I’ve been thinking…” she began.

Subaru physically recoiled. “Oh no. Oh no. Not again. Not this soon.”

“I think,” Emilia said confidently, brushing a silver strand behind her ear, “we should test it.”

Julius froze mid-sip of water. Anastasia paused with a fan halfway to her lips. Priscilla lowered her teacup with a dangerous gleam in her eye. Felt sat forward, sensing danger.

“Test what exactly?” Crusch asked with a cautiousness only achieved by veterans of emotional and literal warfare.

Emilia clapped her hands. “My theory! The love one.”

Felix gasped. “We’re doing field trials nya—?!”

Subaru groaned and buried his face in his hands. “You are not going to make this a controlled study…”

“Of course I am!” Emilia said, bright as the sun. “We’re future queens. It’s our duty to lead with reason and open minds!”

“That’s not what any of those words mean,” Julius muttered.

“I propose,” Emilia said, puffing her chest with pride, “that each royal candidate begins cuddling with their knight every night for nine months, while tracking love levels and baby-related symptoms. If my theory is right, at least one of us should get pregnant.”

Reinhard blinked rapidly. “I—I’m sorry Lady Emilia, what symptoms are we tracking?”

“Warm belly,” Emilia listed. “Glowiness. Sudden urge to buy baby clothes. Intense cravings. Love overload leading to emotional combustion. The usual stuff.”

“…Ah,” Julius said faintly. “So none rooted in actual anatomy, then.”

Felt coughed violently, waving a hand. “Okay hold up! Hold up! I didn’t sign up for this! You want me to cuddle with Reinhard every night like some kind of… of… cuddle wife?!”

Emilia turned to her with a sincere smile. “Oh no no! You don’t have to.”

Felt blinked. “I don’t?”

Emilia nodded solemnly. “Of course not. You’re only fifteen. That would be very inappropriate.”

Felt stared at her for a beat, stunned. “Wow. Okay. You… actually have some brain cells. Thank Od Laguna.”

Reinhard quietly exhaled in relief. “A wise boundary, Lady Emilia.”

“Don’t worry,” Emilia continued warmly. “You can be the control group.”

“The what now?” Felt said.

“In every experiment, there has to be someone who doesn’t participate to measure against, that’s what Subaru told me at least,” Emilia explained. “So if none of us get babies but Felt also doesn’t, it proves nothing. But if all of us do and she doesn’t, it proves everything!”

Julius had stopped writing resignation letters and was now drafting a formal request for divine intervention.

Priscilla leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “And tell me, half-elf… you expect me to allow my knight to share my sleeping quarters? To wrap his filthy arm around my divine self night after night?”

Al leaned sideways, helmet creaking. “I mean, I’ve been sleeping in a chair outside your door for like a year. Wouldn’t mind an upgrade.”

Priscilla tossed him a look sharp enough to puncture armor. “I will consider the experiment only if I may remain fully clothed, blindfolded, and allowed to insult him freely throughout.”

Emilia nodded brightly. “That works! I’m sure love can pass through strong emotions, too!”

“Great,” Al said dryly. “Looking forward to nightly hatred cuddles.”

Anastasia chuckled, gently folding her fan. “Well, now this I’ve gotta see.”

Crusch, ever the paragon of composure, looked at Felix with raised eyebrows. “Thoughts?”

Felix was practically vibrating. “Crusch-sama~! I would be honored to participate in this snuggle-based scientific revolution! And it wouldn’t be anything new to us…”

Crusch sighed. “Of course you would. And I thought we’d agreed to never bring that back up again Ferris…”

Julius’s eye twitched. “Anastasia, please tell me we are not indulging this.”

“Well,” Anastasia said cheerfully, “never hurts to try something new. And you are a knight of elegance. Surely cuddling for the sake of the kingdom won’t be too much.”

“Too much?” Julius gasped. “This is everything. This is my entire dignity on the line!”

Subaru reached over and patted his shoulder. “Welcome to my nightmare.”

“Besides,” Emilia added, “this is a chance to build stronger bonds between candidates and knights! What better way to nurture trust than through shared body heat?”

“Sounds like propaganda from a blanket cult,” Al muttered.

“I’ll draft weekly progress reports!” Emilia added, scribbling notes in a lavender diary. “Every week, you’ll each log things like: Number of hours cuddled. Mood afterward. Stomach flutters. Heightened affection. Sudden insights about babies. Emotional combustion index.”

Julius opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “What. In the name of Od Laguna. Is an emotional combustion index.”

“It’s a scale from one to ten!” Emilia said. “One is like, slight warmth. Ten is full-on love eruption!”

“I’m not sure if I’m terrified or intrigued,” Felix mused.

“Both is valid!” Emilia chirped. “We’ll call the study: Project Snuggle.”

Anastasia covered her mouth to hide her laughter. “That’s… almost impressive.”

Beatrice suddenly appeared beside the table with a clipboard in hand. “I’ve been asked to oversee documentation, I suppose. Someone must prevent this from becoming a farce. Although it already has, I suppose.”

Ram appeared behind her, sipping tea as if summoned by chaos. “I’m only here to see Barasu break. It’s a rare pleasure.”

Subaru finally raised a trembling hand. “Okay. Hold on. Everyone—hold the actual fuck on.”

All eyes turned to him. Emilia’s most of all, full of hope and trust.

“Emilia-tan,” he began gently, “do you realize… this is not how science works? You don’t just… assign everyone cuddle buddies and wait nine months to see if love magically converts into a baby!”

“But isn’t that what experiments are?” she asked, confused. “You try something and see what happens!”

“That’s—okay, that’s… not completely wrong. But also so wrong.”

“But if it works, then we’ll all be smarter!”

“No! If it somehow works, it means we’ve broken reality!”

Emilia looked downcast. “You don’t want to cuddle with me every night?”

Subaru’s soul cracked in half. “No! I mean yes! I mean of course! I love you so much Emilia-tan! More than mayonnaise! But I will not do this because we’re trying to summon a child via affection rituals!”

“It’s not a ritual,” she whispered. “It’s science.”

“I’m going to combust,” Julius muttered. “Emotionally. On the index.”

Beatrice sighed and wrote something on the clipboard.

Al raised a hand. “Quick question. If this actually works, do the babies inherit the properties of the cuddling style? Like if I’m big spoon for nine months, do we get a smug kid?”

Felix gasped. “Can I customize my baby by changing snuggle poses?”

“Why not?” Emilia beamed. “I call it the Love Transfer Position Matrix.”

Subaru screamed internally.

Beatrice continued adding to her book: Comprehensive List of Incorrect Baby-Making Theories by Emilia, Vol. II.”

Priscilla raised a finger. “If I sleep on a chaise lounge while he lies curled on the floor beneath me, does that yield twins or just one magnificently elegant heir?”

“You’d probably get a prodigy,” Emilia said confidently.

“I hate that this is internally consistent,” Julius mumbled.

Reinhard tilted his head. “Should we… name the study groups Lady Emilia?”

“Oh!” Emilia spun around, excited. “Yes! I’ve got names already!”

She opened her diary and began reading:

• “Team Emibaru: Subaru and Emilia.”
• “Team Crulix: Crusch and Felix.”
• “Team Juliana: Anastasia and Julius.”
• “Team Alilla: Priscilla and Al.”
• “Team Control Group: Felt and Reinhard (No cuddling).”

Felt snorted. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard and I was raised by Old Man Rom.”

“And yet,” Priscilla said, smirking, “you stayed.”

“Only because I’m the control group,” Felt said with air quotes. “Whatever that means.”

Subaru had his head on the table, face pressed to the polished wood like it was the only thing grounding him.

“This is my life now,” he mumbled.

Beatrice continued taking notes while muttering. “When the children of this realm grow up believing babies are crafted like tea brews, I shall weep, I suppose. I shall weep until the rivers rise, I suppose.”

Ram looked satisfied. “I’ve seen worse ideas.”

“You have?” Subaru asked, lifting his head.

“Yes. You, deciding to live.”

“…Harsh.”

At long last, Julius stood up, arms at his sides like a soldier marching to his doom.

“I accept,” he said with all the gravitas of a man volunteering for ritual sacrifice. “For the sake of intellectual rigor. And the kingdom.”

He really just wanted today to end already.

Felix gasped. “Julius! You’ve become a romantic scholar!”

He really didn’t. But he couldn’t be asked to argue.

Priscilla clapped twice. “Marvelous. Let the cuddling commence. Al, fetch the silken sheets. And know this: if you drool on me, you die.”

“Understood,” Al sighed.

Crusch raised her glass in a toast. “To science.”

Anastasia tapped her fan to her chin. “To chaos.”

Emilia beamed, cheeks flushed with joy. “To love!”

And Subaru, resigned and dazed, muttered:

“To being cuddled into oblivion.”

Somehow, Project Snuggle got approved. Somehow…

The aftermath of Emilia’s impromptu cuddle-based pregnancy experiment left the royal meeting chamber in a strange quiet. Everyone had agreed to the idea—technically—but no one had actually moved or wanted it to happen. The silence buzzed with unspoken thoughts, hesitant glances, and a creeping sense of dread.

They needed a plan to convince Emilia out of this idea. Subaru being the one to take the lead was the collective idea hesitant glances across the room gave. So Subaru needed to at least start this.

Subaru gently tugged on Emilia’s sleeve. “Hey, uh… Emilia-tan. Can we talk? Just for a sec?”

Emilia smiled, eyes bright with optimism. “Of course! Do you want to discuss snuggle strategies? I think if we start spooning and transition to forehead touches halfway through the night, we could maximize—”

“Nope! Nope-nope,” Subaru said, holding up his hands. “Different topic. Let’s just step over here.”

They walked a few paces away from the long table. Behind them, Julius was already scribbling an emergency legal exemption to avoid nightly cuddling. Felix was whimpering over his own enthusiasm. Priscilla was asking Al if she could contractually ban erections.

Subaru took a breath. “Okay. Emilia. Look. I love you. So much. Like, an exploding amount. But this… this idea…”

Emilia tilted her head. “You think it’s too ambitious? We could do six months instead!”

“No, no, Emilia-tan,” Subaru said carefully. “It’s not the length. It’s the everything else.”

She blinked. “But how else will we prove that babies are made from love?”

“…Emilia,” he said gently, placing both hands on her shoulders. “You’re amazing. You’re kind, and sweet, and you believe in things with your whole heart. But babies don’t just pop out of two people cuddling really hard.”

“I know they don’t pop out instantly,” she said, lowering her voice like it was a dirty secret. “It takes at least a few months of emotional diffusion.”

“That’s not a thing,” Subaru said.

“But what if it is and nobody tested it?”

“Because scientists don’t test things by spooning for nine months and checking for cravings!”

Behind them, Crusch spoke up calmly, arms folded. “Lady Emilia, if I may add something?”

Emilia turned around. “Yes?”

Crusch nodded. “I admire your passion. But this theory… it doesn’t align with known facts about anatomy, reproduction, or even diplomacy. It also requires an alarming number of cuddle hours that might destabilize several knight orders.”

Felix theatrically whimpered. “My tail can’t survive this workload…”

Anastasia chimed in with a grin. “And think about the public reaction. ‘Royal Candidate Orders Knights to Snuggle Her for Science.’ Not a great headline.”

“I’d buy the newspaper,” Al added. “But still.”

Priscilla flicked her fan shut. “Even I, regal as I am, have no desire to be snuggled like a common body pillow. The experiment, in short, offends mine divine self.”

Reinhard stepped forward respectfully. “Lady Emilia. You had the courage to share your theory with us. That takes strength. But I believe this is one of those times when believing in something… doesn’t make it true.”

Emilia looked around the room. The knights and candidates she respected, each now looking at her with gentle, awkward pity.

Her shoulders slowly slumped. “So… you’re all saying my baby cuddle theory… isn’t real?”

Subaru softened, brushing a hand down her arm. “I’m saying it’s real in your heart. But in the real world? We might need to rely on more than love and affection. Like books. And healers.”

“And basic anatomy,” Julius muttered.

“…So I shouldn’t write weekly cuddle logs?” Emilia asked quietly.

“I think you can,” Subaru said. “But maybe just keep them… private. Very private. Like, between-me-and-you private.”

A beat of silence passed.

“…Okay,” Emilia finally said, voice small. “We don’t have to do Project Snuggle.”

The entire room sighed in unison.

“But!” Emilia brightened. “We can still cuddle sometimes Subaru, right? For affection?”

Subaru smiled, brushing a strand of her hair back. “Always. No baby requirements attached.”

Felix sighed. “I guess I’ll cancel the cuddle chart I made. I had glitter pens and everything…”

Julius pointed a finger at him. “Burn it.”

”Guess it’s back to sleeping outside on the chair.” Al murmured to himself.

As things finally returned to semi-normal, the royal summit resumed.

Treaties were discussed. Politics resumed.

But for the rest of the day, no one could look at a blanket without flinching just a little.

Chapter Text

As the royal selection meeting wound down and the last page of treaty drafts was signed with yawns and barely-veiled exhaustion, Subaru still couldn’t shake the image of Emilia’s face earlier — the dimmed sparkle, the slow droop of her shoulders, the quiet “So my theory’s not real?”

She’d been smiling all afternoon, of course. Smiling for the candidates, for the alliance, for the kingdom. But he could tell. Subaru always knew when his Emilia-tan was sad. It wasn’t in her voice or her words. It was in the way she wasn’t humming.

So Subaru did what Subaru always did when Emilia was down.

He caused chaos in the name of love.

He stood up abruptly, clapped his hands, and said with the confidence of a man whose plans always technically worked out: “New proposal! Hear me out. Just one night — everyone sleeps in the same room. Candidates and knights, as they are. To build inter-faction trust and friendship! A… a united sleepover diplomacy initiative!”

Everyone blinked.

“I’m calling it…” he paused dramatically, “Operation United Slumber!”

Anastasia squinted at him over her scarf. “Are you making this up just to make Emilia feel better?”

“Yes,” Subaru said without shame. “But it’s also genius.”

“…Eh,” Al shrugged. “Could be worse. I’ve had stranger nights.”

Priscilla arched a brow. “I do not share bedding with the common rabble.”

“But you could share floor space,” Al said smoothly. “We could separate the mats with a silk rope so you don’t catch peasant.”

Felix put his hands on his hips. “Group cuddles, nya? Sounds adorable!”

Reinhard, ever diplomatic, gave a knightly nod. “If it will ease tensions, I am not opposed.”

Felt, already half-asleep in her chair, mumbled, “Yeah, whatever. Wake me up when the kingdom’s mine to destroy.”

Emilia, eyes widening as Subaru looked at her, asked softly, “Really? Just one night? Everyone together?”

Subaru smiled. “Only if you want to.”

She beamed.

And just like that, Operation United Slumber was greenlit by an exhausted, mildly confused, but too-tired-to-fight group of future leaders.

The Sleeping Hall, That Night

Bedrolls were arranged in a huge, open chamber hastily repurposed for this diplomatic cuddle initiative. Small lanterns flickered along the walls, casting soft shadows. Each candidate settled next to their knight—some with awkward stiffness, others like it was second nature.

Emilia & Subaru

Wrapped in a fuzzy lilac blanket, Emilia curled up beside Subaru, her head nestled against his shoulder. She was still smiling — small, sleepy, and safe.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she whispered.

“I did,” he murmured back. “Your smile is like oxygen. I can’t breathe when it’s gone.”

“That’s so dramatic,” she giggled.

He shrugged. “I’m in love. I’m allowed.”

Her fingers twined with his beneath the blanket. “Thank you, Subaru.”

They drifted off to the slow rhythm of each other’s heartbeat, the cuddle experiment Emilia didn’t plan — but clearly needed.

Anastasia & Julius

Julius lay very straight, arms at his sides like a coffin model, while Anastasia propped herself up on a pillow, watching him with visible amusement.

“You’re stiff as a board, darling.”

“I am preserving boundaries,” he replied, eyes on the ceiling.

“You do know we’ve shared a carriage bunk before, right?”

“That was for strategic logistics,” Julius mumbled, face pinkening. “This is different. There are witnesses.”

Anastasia smirked, pulled her fox scarf closer around her, and nudged him gently. “Then at least try to relax. You’ll hurt your back.”

With a great deal of inner suffering, Julius allowed his shoulder to brush hers.

“Scandal,” he muttered.

“Shh. It’s called progress.”

Crusch & Felix

“Is this close enough, Crusch-sama?” Felix whispered, nestled at her side like a very fluffy cat.

Crusch, already reclining against her pillow with graceful posture, gave a small nod. “This is acceptable.”

Felix’s tail swished under the blanket. “You sure? I don’t wanna invade your cuddle space, nya~.”

“You are warm,” she replied plainly. “It is agreeable.”

Felix’s ears twitched. He scooted half an inch closer and let out a happy sigh. “Then I’m glad. You always keep me steady, Crusch-sama.”

Crusch, for a moment, smiled into the dim light. “And you always keep me soft.”

Priscilla & Al

They lay on either side of a silken rope Priscilla had insisted be installed. She had at least five pillows stacked under her head, while Al had the floor and one very flat, sad cushion.

“This is not cuddling,” Al muttered. “This is a hostage negotiation.”

“You should be grateful I allowed you within breathing radius,” Priscilla said, applying night cream to her cheeks.

“Oh, I’m grateful,” Al said. “I just thought maybe we’d go for, you know, political bonding instead of medieval cohabitation via red tape.”

Priscilla narrowed her eyes. “Any closer and I will burn your soul from your body.”

“Noted.”

A beat passed.

“…But like, emotionally, we’re closer now, right?”

She threw a pillow at him.

Felt & Reinhard

Felt had crashed instantly, sprawled over her bedroll in a tangle of blankets, one arm hanging off to the side like she’d fallen off a rooftop and landed on a mattress. Her snores were shockingly cute.

Reinhard sat beside her, cross-legged, his sword at his side, watching over her with a quiet smile.

He didn’t move. He didn’t need to.

He simply kept watch, like he always had. Making sure the girl he served—the girl he’d follow anywhere—could dream in peace.

He adjusted her blanket a little higher over her shoulder.

“I’ll always be here for you Felt-sama,” he whispered, so softly no one could hear.

In the Stillness

As the lanterns dimmed to their lowest glow, and the sound of quiet breathing filled the room, Subaru opened his eyes one last time to peek.

All around him, the future of the kingdom lay peacefully together. No scheming. No arguing. Just the sound of five different duos—and a Reinhard—resting in quiet closeness.

He looked down at Emilia again.

She’d curled even closer now, mumbling something about “love diffusion rates” in her sleep.

He chuckled.

Maybe it wasn’t a baby-making cuddle ritual.

But it was something real.

And for now, that was enough.

The Morning After Operation United Slumber

Sunlight crept in through the windows of the shared sleeping hall, golden beams slowly tracing their way across scattered blankets, tangled limbs, and a collection of bleary-eyed royal hopefuls and their equally disheveled knights.

Somewhere, a bird chirped.

Someone groaned.

Someone else snored.

And Subaru Natsuki—stiff-necked, barely awake, and very aware of exactly how warm his current situation was—cracked open an eye to assess the situation.

He was spooning Emilia.

Emilia was hugging his arm like a koala.

Beatrice was on his chest like a weighted blanket with judgmental eyes.

“Morning, I suppose,” Beatrice muttered flatly, her little arms still curled under her chin, eyes half-lidded and unimpressed.

“…Baeko?” Subaru rasped. “When did you…?”

“You left me out, I suppose,” she replied, pouty. “This was a critical bonding mission. As your contracted spirit, my presence was mandatory, I suppose.”

“I invited everyone!” he protested, very softly so he wouldn’t wake Emilia.

Beatrice narrowed her eyes. “You invited everyone but me. Unforgivable. I shall sulk for seven hours, I suppose.”

“You’re on me.”

“Exactly, I suppose.”

Subaru sighed—but his smile grew anyway. He reached a hand to gently ruffle her hair. “Well, then thanks for joining us, Baeko.”

Beatrice harrumphed—but leaned into his touch with a soft little hum.

On his other side, Emilia stirred with a sleepy noise and blinked her silver eyes open.

“Mm… ‘Morning… Suba—B-Beatrice?!”

“Don’t act surprised,” Beatrice said, yawning like a kitten. “You’re in my bed spot, I suppose.”

“This is my bed,” Emilia whispered.

“This is my Subaru.” Beatrice quipped.

They stared each other down, then both pouted and hugged him tighter from either side.

Subaru was pretty sure he was dying, but like, in a good way.

Anastasia & Julius

On the far side of the room, Anastasia sat up first, pulling her shawl around her like a sleepy fox queen. Her hair was perfectly in place. Her scarf had not budged an inch. Her dignity was immaculate.

Julius, however, looked like someone had tried to exorcise him with a blanket.

One hand flopped over his face, hair mussed and mouth slightly open, Julius was deep in the kind of sleep known only to men who had spent the night trying not to move an inch.

“Juliii,” Anastasia cooed, poking his cheek. “Wake up, handsome. You look like a ‘defeated anime protagonist’. I don’t know what that means but it sounds like something Subaru would say if he saw you. Speaking of which I need to ask Subaru what an ‘anime’ is…”

“Mrmph,” Julius grunted.

“Wanna help me judge everyone else for their sleeping positions?”

His eyes opened slowly. “I’m always ready.”

Crusch & Felix

Felix was sprawled across Crusch’s lap like a cat who had claimed a favorite sunspot. He was purring softly. Like, actually purring.

Crusch, sitting upright with perfect posture and only a slightly sleepy expression, allowed it with quiet grace.

“You really stayed like that all night?” Subaru asked, gently passing by with Beatrice still attached to him.

“It would have been cruel to move him,” Crusch said with calm serenity. “He drooled a little. It was endearing.”

Felix muttered something about “princess dreams and tuna rivers” in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

Subaru nodded solemnly. “This is peace.”

Priscilla & Al

Chaos.

Priscilla’s side of the silken rope barrier remained untouched—perfect pillows, pristine sheets, folded blanket.

Al, however, was a human pretzel. One leg had twisted under the rope. A blanket was somehow wrapped around his one and only arm. His helmet was skewed sideways like a cheap cosplay.

Subaru stared.

“I’m not asking,” he said.

“Wise,” Anastasia replied.

Priscilla daintily rose from her bedding like a goddess rising from lotus petals.

“Animals,” she sniffed. “All of them. I shall bathe thrice.”

“I’m 60% sure I slept in a yoga pose,” Al groaned from the floor.

Reinhard & Felt

Felt, drooling slightly, was still fast asleep.

Reinhard sat next to her, back straight, smile soft, a book open in his hands. He’d been up for two hours.

“She slept soundly,” he said gently as Subaru passed by.

“Did you sleep?” Subaru asked.

“No. I had no need.”

“You’re too powerful,” Subaru muttered. “It’s kind of unfair.”

“I did ensure she didn’t roll into the wall, though.”

“I take it back. You’re basically the kingdom’s babysitter.”

Reinhard gave a small, proud nod. “I accept this role with honour.”

Breakfast Chaos

Eventually, grogginess gave way to chatter. Blankets were folded. Bed hair was ignored or, in Felix’s case, styled with just two flicks of the wrist.

Someone brewed tea (Julius). Someone stole everyone’s bread roll (Felt). Someone added sugar to all the tea in a sleepy mistake (Emilia).

Priscilla was seen dramatically lamenting the “sugar syrup tea.”

Al drank three cups. He needed it.

Beatrice insisted on sitting in Subaru’s lap the entire time.

“No one minds, I suppose,” she said, not asking.

“Nope, I definitely don’t,” Subaru said, feeding her a bite of muffin and patting her head sleepily.

Felix, crumbs on his face, looked around the long shared table and said what everyone was thinking:

“…This was nice, nya.”

There was a pause.

Anastasia adjusted her scarf.

Crusch gave a single nod.

Felt belched.

“Yeah,” she said. “Weird, but… not bad.”

Subaru leaned into Emilia’s side.

“Think your theory worked a little,” he whispered.

Emilia smiled, still sleepy but warm. “Maybe not for babies. But for friends?”

She looked around the table — mismatched, chaotic, powerful, ridiculous.

“…It kinda did.”

Chapter Text

When the letters arrived, no one was particularly surprised.

Emilia had written each one with care — in her slightly swirly script, dotted with little hearts. “Dear [Royal Candidate],” each began, “I was thinking about how nice our last cuddle night was! Everyone seemed really happy, and I think it made us closer as friends and fellow royal selection members! So I would really love to do it again.”

She even added a helpful postscript:

“You can bring your whole camp this time! The Miload Mansion has plenty of room and blankets and food.”

Crusch read hers with an amused tilt of the head.

Anastasia chuckled and immediately accepted.

Priscilla scoffed, declared herself above such childishness, and then packed the finest silks for herself and Schult.

Felt read hers out loud in front of Reinhard, tossed it in the air, and muttered, “Fine, whatever. We’ll go.”

They all came.

The Miload Mansion — for once — was full.

And warm.

And noisy.

Laughter bounced off the walls, echoing through the wide hallways like cheerful ghosts. Boots and coats lay stacked near the foyer, and the long main room had been emptied of furniture and replaced with massive piles of plush blankets and pillows. Bowls of stew sat on low tables. Petra and Frederica had prepared snacks. Garfiel was busy building a pillow fort taller than Otto. And somewhere in the corner, Mimi Pearlbarton was climbing on Ricardo’s back, chattering at twice the speed of sound.

“It’s like the snow festival,” Subaru said to himself, a smile tugging at his face.

He turned to Emilia, who was beaming — radiant, content, cheeks slightly flushed with pride. “Thank you for coming, everyone,” she said, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “I’m really glad you came. I really wanted tonight to be… nice again.”

No one argued. No one mocked. Even Priscilla, resplendent in gold-trimmed night robes, offered a rare approving hum.

And with that, Cuddle Night: Part Two began.

The Great Nesting

The blanket piles became designated cuddle zones. One corner for Crusch Camp, another for Anastasia’s group, and a prime spot right in the centre for Emilia and her group.

Beatrice, in her usual pink nightgown, had already staked her claim: directly next to Subaru. She was curled under his arm like a cat, one hand clutching his sleeve.

“I suppose you shall not escape me tonight either, I suppose,” she mumbled.

“You say that like it’s not the highlight of my year Baeko,” Subaru said with a grin.

Emilia had nestled on Subaru’s other side, her head already resting on his shoulder. Her silver hair shimmered softly in the candlelight. “Tonight’s perfect,” she whispered. “This really might be how peace is made.”

Beatrice blinked at her. “Don’t ruin it with politics, I suppose.”

“Right… sorry Beatrice…”

Across the room, Petra stood beside the Emilia Camp pile, nervously fidgeting with the hem of her blanket.

Subaru saw her. “Petra? You coming in?”

She glanced between him, Emilia, and Beatrice — all locked in a cuddle triangle with zero entry points — and gave a tiny nod.

“It’s okay,” she said, trying to smile bravely. “I’ll… I’ll go cuddle with Frederica instead.”

Frederica, already seated nearby, opened her arms without hesitation. “Come here, Petra. We’ll make our own little corner.”

Petra dove in with a soft “Mhm!” and curled into Frederica’s lap. Within minutes, she was falling asleep.

Elsewhere, Mimi had launched herself (again) at Garfiel, who was trying very hard to not look flustered.

“Garf Garf!! You’re not in the snuggle zone yet! Come on!”

“Oi, oi, calm down, shortstack,” he said, scratching his cheek. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“But you said you’d build the best cuddle fort with me and Tivey and Hetaro and Ricardo and Julius and–!”

“Okay, okay! Let’s not invite the whole mansion, alright?!”

He gave in eventually — sort of. He let Mimi cling to his arm and burrow under the blankets beside him while muttering something about “annoying but weirdly warm fuzzball.” Mimi, of course, took this as the highest compliment and promptly fell asleep with her cheek on his shoulder.

The Library Discovery

Later that night, while the others snoozed peacefully in a kingdom-wide cuddle-pile of diplomacy and wholesomeness, Subaru slipped away with Beatrice in tow.

“Where are we going, I suppose?” Beatrice asked, still clutching her pillow.

“Library,” Subaru whispered, holding up a candle. “Just for a minute. I had a weird idea and I wanna check something.”

“You and your ideas always lead to disasters, I suppose.”

“I mean, fair, but this one might be fun.”

They reached the Miload Mansion’s library — a grand room full of dusty bookshelves and magical tomes. Subaru began combing through the older texts.

“Beako, help me look for spells.”

“Vague. Useless. Stupid, I suppose.”

“Please?”

With a sigh and a flick of her twin-drill pigtails, Beatrice began pulling books too. After a few minutes, she let out a tiny surprised noise.

“I found something odd, I suppose…”

She held up a small, leather-bound book. On the cover: “A Practical Guide to Temporary Rejuvenation.”

Subaru’s eyes lit up.

“Beako. Does that mean what I think it means?”

She flipped through the pages, muttering. “It’s a spell using Yin. It de-ages people. Temporarily. Duration varies depending on the scale of the casting and magical resistance.”

Subaru’s grin turned mischievous.

“Do you think it’d work on a whole mansion?”

Beatrice narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“No reason.”

“Liar, I suppose.”

“Beako. Please. Just imagine it. Tiny Julius. Baby Reinhard. Infant Emilia.”

“…That does sound sort of hilarious, I suppose.”

And with that, they cast the spell.

The Morning After

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of the Miload Mansion. The air was quiet, warm, unusually serene.

Subaru yawned, stretched… and then heard it.

Waaah.

Then again, louder this time.

WAAHHHHHHHH.

Then multiple cries.

A shriek. A gurgle. The unmistakable babbling of many infants.

He bolted upright.

“…oh no.”

He sat straight up.

What greeted him was utter madness.

The blanket nests were swarming with… babies. Dozens of them. Tiny, chubby, squishy versions of every single member of the Royal Selection (thankfully their clothes shrunk with them).

Tiny Crusch sat with perfect posture but kept drooling. Baby Felix had cat ears far too large for his head and was pawing at Wilhelm’s hair. Baby Priscilla looked furious that her hands were too small to slap anyone.

Julius was crawling in circles with a noble pout.

Mimi was giggling uncontrollably while chewing on Garfiel’s hair — Garfiel himself now a fierce, growling toddler with two tiny fangs and hair in his eyes.

Tivey was stuck under a pillow. Hetaro was trying to climb Ricardo’s back again. Baby Anastasia had wrapped herself in a scarf three times too large and was now rolling like a caterpillar across the floor.

Petra? Trying to feed Frederica a cookie with her chubby hands.

Schult had fallen asleep on Al. Al, notably, was also a baby — and looked very annoyed about it.

Felt was the tiniest of them all. Reinhard (now also de-aged but still oddly majestic, probably a Divine Protection) sat beside her like a red-haired babysitter, patting her head gently.

“Beako!” Subaru whisper-screamed. “You actually turned them into babies! You really did it!”

Beatrice, completely unbothered, hovered nearby with her arms crossed. “I warned you about magical consequences, I suppose.”

“How long does it last?!”

“Until the moon rises again. Roughly. Probably. Give or take a few hours.”

Subaru looked back at the chaos.

An infant Julius had latched onto his leg and was now sucking his thumb and crying. Ricardo was chewing on the table. Priscilla was still glaring at the room like she wanted to burn it down.

But Emilia?

Tiny baby Emilia sat near the center of the blanket pile — silver hair messy, violet eyes wide and dreamy, and a sleepy smile on her face.

She was reaching her little arms toward Subaru.

“Mmm… Soo-baa-wuu…” she murmured.

Subaru’s heart melted into a pile of goo on the spot.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. “She’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I suppose you should prepare,” Beatrice said casually, summoning bottles, baby supplies, picture books and toys with magic. The hall was now a nursery littered with toys, books and bottles of milk.

Subaru sat down cross-legged on the blankets picked up baby Emilia and cradled her in his lap. Her silver hair, now soft and wispy like moonlight spun into cotton, framed her round, chubby cheeks. She giggled with a soft “Puu!” as she clumsily reached out to grab the tip of his nose.

“Hey now,” Subaru whispered, booping her on the nose in retaliation. “You’re supposed to be a dignified royal candidate, not a drooly, squeaky snowball Emilia-tan.”

Emilia squealed in delight, flailing her tiny legs and hugging his chest with the strength of a determined bean sprout. Subaru melted.

He lifted her gently and bounced her up and down, grinning as she babbled nonsense. “So many words, huh? Already planning your next treaty negotiation?”

Behind them, Beatrice stood with arms crossed, watching the scene with narrowed eyes.

“You’re absolutely hopeless, I suppose,” she muttered.

Subaru glanced at her with a sheepish smile. “What? Can’t I enjoy a once-in-a-lifetime chance to babysit the girl I love?”

Beatrice sighed through her nose and turned away. “You’re both children now.”

“Only one of us is in diapers.”

“…For now, I suppose.”

Baby Mimi and Baby Garfiel

In the corner of the Miload Mansion’s grand sitting room, chaos was brewing. The kind of chaos that could only come from two toddlers too powerful for their own good.

“Buh-BAAAAH!” baby Mimi squealed, flopping onto her belly with her sleeves riding up her tiny arms. She slapped the floor once, then twice, before crawling—no, charging—on all fours toward her chosen prey.

“Guh-GAAR!” baby Garfiel announced, drooling slightly as he tried to stand. He managed it for exactly one and a half seconds before tipping over backward and landing with a surprised “BAH?!”

Mimi reached him like a missile. “Gah-feeeeel!” she chirped triumphantly, grabbing his face with both hands and smushing his cheeks like bread dough. “Mimi’s buh-fwen!”

Garfiel flailed but didn’t resist. His expression was stunned, like his toddler brain couldn’t decide if this was a threat or a proposal. “Brrrah. Mimi go zoom,” he babbled back, eyes wide.

She leaned forward until their foreheads bumped. “Zoom.”

“…Zoom.”

They both burst into high-pitched giggles, laughing at a joke no one else understood.

Across the room, Subaru (who was carrying baby Emilia) witnessed the scene.

“Dey weird,” Emilia mumbled.

Beatrice, beside Subaru with her arms folded as usual, just nodded. “More than usual, I suppose.”

Baby Felix and Baby Crusch

In a sunny part of the Miload Mansion’s now newly converted nursery, baby Felix was meticulously stacking blocks—his tiny fingers trembling with concentration as he tried to make a perfect tower. His cheeks flushed pink with effort, he mumbled a serious “Pwaaah!” whenever a block wobbled.

Nearby, baby Crusch sat with her legs tucked neatly beneath her, her eyes soft and warm. “Fweeewiix,” she cooed, gently reaching out to place a pastel block next to Felix’s tower, as if helping him. Felix looked up and blinked at her, then grinned a toothy gummy smile, babbling, “Koo-koo! Taka-taka!”

Crusch giggled—a sweet, delicate sound—and clapped her hands. “Mmm-hmm!” she agreed, before leaning in to carefully place the final block on top. Felix’s eyes sparkled with pride.

Their little hands met in the middle for an accidental high-five, and both babies burst into delighted, incoherent laughter that filled the room with pure joy.

Baby Frederica and Baby Petra

Across the hall, baby Petra sat curled up in baby Frederica’s lap, the elder toddler gently bouncing her. Petra’s wide eyes shimmered with trust and affection as she babbled “Bah-tee… Fredda?” while reaching up to tug on Frederica’s soft hair.

Frederica smiled softly, stroking Petra’s downy hair. “Fweh… beee,” she cooed, wrapping her arms more securely around the smaller child. Petra’s little fingers curled around Frederica’s shirt, and she sighed happily.

“Safe… heeya,” Petra babbled, nuzzling into Frederica’s chest like a tiny kitten.

Frederica’s eyes glistened, her baby voice tender. “Wuv yu,” she murmured.

Petra’s eyes widened and she giggled in pure delight, the sound light and sparkling like morning dew.

Baby Reinhard and Baby Felt

Not far away, baby Reinhard sat silently by baby Felt, who was dozing quietly in a cozy nook filled with soft blankets. Reinhard’s tiny fingers curled around a now small plush sword Reid (Subaru confiscated the real one, and quickly stitched Baby Reinhard a miniature one), holding it with the poise of a miniature knight despite his baby features.

Every now and then, he looked over at Felt with wide, watchful eyes, as if silently vowing to keep her safe from every imaginary threat lurking in the nursery.

When a rogue stuffed rabbit rolled nearby, Reinhard’s chubby hand shot out to gently but firmly push it away from Felt’s sleeping form, making a determined “Hmph!” sound that was surprisingly fierce for someone so small.

Felt shifted slightly, mumbling a sleepy “Hmm…” and nestled deeper into her blankets, completely at peace with her tiny guardian.

Baby Julius and Baby Anastasia

Not too far from Reinhard, baby Julius was attempting to ‘read’ a massive picture book, his tiny hands fumbling over the pages while babbling a string of “Buh-buh” and “Da-da” sounds with great enthusiasm.

Baby Anastasia sat beside him, watching with a curious tilt of her head and a delicate smile. “Mmm?” she babbled, offering him a colorful toy from her lap.

Julius grinned, grabbing it and giving her an adorably lopsided smile. “Pah! Ah!” he chirped, before clumsily handing it back with a giggle.

Their baby hands clasped briefly, and Anastasia let out a happy babble, which Julius echoed almost exactly—a perfect baby duet of nonsense syllables that somehow felt like a conversation.

Baby Priscilla and Baby Al

In another corner of the room bathed in late afternoon light, baby Priscilla lounged elegantly on a plush cushion, her tiny fingers playing with a shiny rattle. Baby Al sat nearby, happily gnawing on a teething ring, his dull eyes darting around with curiosity.

Priscilla let out a delighted “Bee-bee!” and waved her rattle at Al, who responded with a bubbly “Ga-ga!” and crawled clumsily toward her.

Al reached out, and Priscilla caught his chubby hand gently, giving it a regal squeeze. “Nnnh!” she babbled, as if issuing a royal decree.

Al laughed, tumbling over slightly in his excitement, and Priscilla’s giggle followed, a rare sound that was as precious as a jewel.

The two babies sat in rare blissful companionship, their babbling voices blending into a sweet lullaby of pure innocence.

And so, for the rest of the day, Subaru became the caretaker of twenty-plus babies. Changing them. Feeding them. Rocking them to sleep. Keeping Al from crawling into the fireplace. Pulling Hetaro out of the soup. Protecting Julius from biting Mimi. Wrapping Anastasia back into her scarf cocoon. Saving Otto from Tivey’s tackling.

It was exhausting. It was loud. It was chaos.

But it was also… the cutest day in Miload Mansion history.

Later That Night

The moon rose at last. One by one, the babies began to glow — faint sparkles of magic spinning around them — until they each returned to their normal forms (thankfully the clothes grew with them) in flashes of light and startled gasps.

“Why am I wet?” Felix asked immediately.

“I feel like I fought a hundred mabeasts,” Julius muttered, cradling his head.

“What just happened?!” Anastasia cried, shaking off a pillow placed on her.

Petra clung to Frederica, still half-asleep.

Garfiel blinked blearily at Mimi, who looked ready to launch herself at him again. “Y-you weren’t terrible,” he mumbled. “As a baby.”

Mimi squealed. “You love me!!”

Beatrice stood beside Subaru who was laying down, her arms crossed, and completely smug.

“I told you it would be temporary, I suppose.”

Subaru looking up at her, still holding a now grown-up sleepy Emilia who hadn’t quite woken up yet, just smiled.

Best cuddle night ever.