Archive of Our Own

The corridors of KorTac headquarters were quieter than usual.

It made sense though, it was December, most people had either gone home for the holidays or were counting the hours until they could. 

You’d half expected König to be one of them. König lived for his rare moments of peace, and he’d talked before about wanting to see the Christmas lights on y'all's house, maybe even bake cookies. But instead, his voice had come over the comm earlier that morning, asking you to stop by his office.

When you stepped inside, the familiar smell of burnt coffee and pine scented cleaner hit first. König sat behind his desk and had papers arranged with precision. He looked tired, though.

You tried to lighten the mood before he could even open his mouth. “You know, if you keep calling me in here like this, people are going to start getting ideas.” You gave a faint grin, leaning against the doorframe. “The Colonel and his favorite operative… what will they think?” 

König didn’t bite. His eyes lifted to you through the shadow of his hood, unimpressed. “Kim already knows we’re married…” König murmured out, going back to looking over the report before shuffling it away with the rest.

You sighed, playing it off, but there was a hint of warmth in his tone that made you think he wasn’t entirely immune to the joke.

“Sit.” He said after a moment, motioning to the chair across from him. “I want to talk about your latest mission reports.”

You took the seat, resting your hands in your lap. “There wasn’t anything wrong in that file. I didn’t shoot anyone or get injured. Nothing was broken.”

“Not- I mean as a whole.”

König leaned forward, thick fingers tapping once against the desk. “You have been… busy. ” He began, a careful neutrality in his voice. “Very busy. Patrols, courier runs, small local operations… half of these are assignments that the police could handle. Or new recruits.” He looked at you directly, his tone soft but weighted. 

“Why?”

You blinked, trying to keep your voice light even as your stomach twisted. “Is that a problem?”

“I didn’t say it was a problem.” He replied after a long hard pause. “I am asking why.”

You shrugged, looking away as if the row of medals on his shelf were suddenly fascinating. “Shouldn’t I be working? That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?” 

“Don’t.” He sighed, like a pug dying sigh. “Everyone else is taking leave. It’s December.”

“People still have work around the holidays.” You said quickly, trying to sound reasonable instead of defensive. “It’s not like crime takes a vacation.”

König’s eyes narrowed slightly behind the mask. “You have done twice the usual hours. You have not taken any leave. Even now, most of the unit is resting for the holiday season. You, meanwhile…” He exhaled, long and slow. 

You leaned back in the chair, shrugging casually. “Someone has to keep things running. People still commit crimes around Christmas, right? And someone needs to handle the paperwork, the field checks…” You waved a hand like it was all obvious, but König’s silence told you he wasn’t buying it.

He studied you for a long moment, eyes unreadable. Then he said quietly, “Fine. If that is all, then you may go.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden dismissal. You stood up, half expecting another question, but he just turned back to the stack of papers in front of him, pretending to read. The disappointment in his posture twisted something in your chest. You hesitated, opening your mouth to say something, but before you could, König spoke again.

“There is one more thing.” He said, his voice dropped a little lower, more serious now. “A new assignment just came in. Intelligence says there is a high profile dealer operating out of the Nuremberg Christkindlesmarkt. Local police are overwhelmed by the crowds and need eyes on the ground.”

Your pulse jumped, any trace of weariness replaced by a sudden spark of purpose. “I’ll take it.” You said immediately, stepping closer, the chair legs scraping the floor as you sat back down. “Send me the details. I’ll pack tonight.”

König’s gaze flicked up from the papers. You could tell he was considering saying no, but after a pause, he only nodded once. “I’ll assign you the case…” He said and then added, “With me as your teammate.”

You blinked. “You’re coming?”

“Yes.” His tone left no room for argument. “It’s more effective for a mission if there are multiple people working together… surely it wouldn't be a problem?

So you shook your head, drumming your hands on your thighs. “Not at all, sir.” 

—

Two weeks ago you found yourself in a bathroom.

“You’re fine… you’re fine… you’re fine…” You whispered over and over to yourself again. The test sat on the edge of the sink, mocking you with its silence. You’d set it down face-first, too afraid to flip it over. Your palms sweated, your leg bounced, and every second felt like the longest of your life.

“You always use condoms… you’re fine…”

Finally, you forced your shaking hand forward and turned it.

Two lines.

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The world blurred, sound rushing out of the room until all you could hear was your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

“Fuck.” You whispered, voice cracking. “Fuck, no-”

Your knees buckled, and you slid down against the cold cabinet, the little plastic stick clattering onto the tile. You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, but the tears broke through anyway, hot and relentless.

Your shoulders trembled, you started counting dates. Your mind rushed over every detail, remembering each passionate filled night between you and König. 

The missions, the nights when you and König were too tired to think, the rushed touches in the dark when you’d trusted that thin barrier of latex between you and disaster. You thought of the calendar app you hadn’t checked closely enough, of the small gaps where everything lined up in the worst possible way.

You cursed yourself. “Idiot. Fucking idiot.” The words scraped raw in your throat. You’d been careful, or at least, you thought you had been. Condoms. Always condoms. 

But you knew even then they weren’t foolproof, and you hadn’t backed it up with anything else. Your HRT has always felt like your shield, it at least made it harder to get pregnant. Now though… now you’d have to stop it if you continued with the pregnancy. 

You were already around eight weeks along by now.

“Idiot.” You hissed through your teeth, curling forward. “Stupid, stupid-”

You buried your face in your arms and sobbed. Not because you didn’t want this. God, part of you ached at the thought of a baby with König, of  seeing small hands wrapped around his huge fingers. 

You reached blindly for the test, gripping it so tight your knuckles hurt. The second line stared back at you.

—

The drive into Nuremberg left your stomach churning, though you’d blamed it on the motion of the car and the way the heater blasted a little too hot. It didn’t help that you’re already bundled up.

By the time König parked a street away from the Christkindlesmarkt, you were pressing your palm discreetly against your middle, willing the queasiness to pass.

The two of you stepped out into the December air, cold enough to sting your nose. 

The market was spread out in a glittering maze of red and white striped stalls, the roofs dusted with frost and snow. There was also a scent of roasted chestnuts, spiced wines, and sugared almonds that wove together in the air until your stomach gave another uneasy twist.

König adjusted his scarf higher over his mouth, eyes scanning the crowd with sharp precision. “Liebling.” He murmured, his voice low beneath the muffled knit of his scarf, leaning down so only you could hear over the hum of carolers and laughter. “You do not look well. Maybe we should-”

“Nope.” You cut in quickly, sharper than you intended. You stuffed your gloved hands deep into your pockets and started forward into the current of people. “We’re already here. The ride was just a bit bumpy.”

You adjusted the front of your coat, pulling it tighter, and gestured subtly toward the market’s center. There was a massive Christmas tree towered above the stalls. The air glittered with fairy lights strung from every booth, glass ornaments and hand carved toys catching the glow. 

“Alright.” You said, fixing your gaze on the crowd rather than König. “He could be anywhere. So keep your eyes peeled."

König didn’t answer right away, though you felt the weight of his stare. Finally, he shifted, tugging his gloves tighter. “As you wish.” 

The two of you wove through the bustling crowd until you spotted a narrow table tucked near the edge of the square, half hidden due to a booth draped in fairy lights.

You slid onto the seat, tugging your coat tighter against the December chill. König sat opposite, his massive frame making the table look like a child’s toy in comparison. He leaned forward, his eyes scanning the passing faces.

You forced yourself into stillness. 

For fifteen long minutes, nothing happened. No signal, no sign of the contact you were here for, just tourists bargaining over ornaments, children squealing for marzipan, and the faint clatter of skates on the nearby ice. 

Well this wasn’t good. You wanted movement, a lead, anything but the waiting that left your muscles aching.

Suddenly, König stood up, his boots scraped against the cobblestones.

“Where are you going?” You asked, the words hanging in the cold air.

He tilted his head, eyes crinkling faintly above the scarf pulled high over his nose. “To get something Schatz.”

Before you could argue, he slipped into the crowd. For a man of his… proportions, König could vanish surprisingly well when he chooses to. Your eyes tried to keep up with him, but he was already swallowed up by the sea of shoppers and vendors.

When he returned, he set two paper plates down with deliberate care. Each held a golden waffle dusted with powdered sugar, steam curling faintly into the cold night. In his other hand, he balanced two mugs of hot cocoa.

You paused. “Really? This is what you thought we needed?”

König lowered himself back into his seat, sliding one plate toward you. “Yes. Just sitting here and doing nothing but watching other people is weird. We’re not even talking to each other.” He picked up his own waffle, the powdered sugar clinging to his gloves. “And besides… It is Christmas.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the warm waffle with your now ungloved hand. The powdered sugar from the waffle clung to your fingertips, the sweet dust went into the groves of your skin.

“How are you holding up so well?” You asked through a bite of waffle, keeping your voice low. Your gaze flicked toward him, sharp and questioning. “Normally, crowds like this-” 

You gestured at the swelling tide of people, the chatter, the laughter, the shoulder-to-shoulder crush. “Freak you out.” He gave a simple shrug, drinking from his cup. “How are you more calm than me?”

“It’s Christmas.” He just answers again, pulling the steaming cup away from his mouth, leaving behind a small chocolate mustache. 

“You know, you really have a way with words…” You trailed off, taking notice that he hasn’t looked at you while talking for a while.

You followed his line of sight, and internally groaned. A carousel spun slowly in the middle of the square, its painted horses gliding up and down beneath a canopy of twinkling lights. Children squealed as parents waved from the railings, the music box tune carrying merrily across the crowd.

You immediately caught the faint spark in König’s eyes and sighed. “Don’t even think about it.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but you knew that look. “Das Karussell.”

You shook your head, already cutting him off. “Absolutely not. We’re on a mission, König.”

“Mhm,” König hummed, clearly not deterred.

You narrowed your eyes and kept your voice firm. “No.”

—

You found yourselves in line, König towering over the crowd of bundled up children and their parents. You glanced up at him more than once, incredulous. “You’re ridiculous…” You muttered.

When the line moved, you climbed onto a classic, white painted horse, its mane frozen mid-gallop, the brass pole cool beneath your hand. You still hadn’t put back on your glove again.

König swung onto the horse beside you, his long legs bent awkwardly. You wanted to laugh at the sight and you almost felt bad for the non living horse.

The carousel groaned to life, its gears turning beneath the cheerful music that spilled from the organ. The painted horses bobbed in rhythm, gilded poles flashing in the warm yellow glow of the string lights that circled the canopy. You shifted on your seat, one hand steady on the pole, the other braced against your thigh as the ride began to spin.

Your eyes darted over faces, watching for any hint of your supposed target. But every time you looked away, your eyes betrayed you and found König again.

His scarf unevenly framed his face, the pale line of his jaw lit in soft gold by the carousel lamps. Snowflakes clung to the fabric of his sleeves, catching in his hat when the wind swept under the canopy.

You opened your mouth. This is it. Say it. Say it now-

“Look,” König said instead, cutting the air between you like a small, warm hand. He pointed with a single, deliberate motion to a bench on the inner ring of the carousel.

At the bench sat a family. Two parents pressed close together and between them, swaddled in layers of blue blankets and a tiny wool cap, a baby fussed, tiny fists making helpless gestures. 

The baby’s brow furrowed, then relaxed, then fussed again, a plaintive cry that drew the eyes of everyone on the ride.

König’s face softened in a way you hadn’t seen in weeks. “Look at the little baby…” He said with fondness in each syllable. 

You blinked and, because your brain always fought instinct with humor, you blurted out something ridiculous. “Oh yeah. That’s definitely our target. A highly, suspicious, fussy baby.”

König snorted, the sound catching a little on the last note. “Ach, ja?” He leaned in, amusement brightening his face. “You are ridiculous.”

You just kept staring at him. 

The horses rose and fell beneath you both, your knees brushing his for a moment before the motion pulled you apart again. You tried to tear your gaze away, but his eyes flicked toward you, catching you mid-stare.

“What?” He chuckled. “You’re staring again. Are you drunk, Schatz?”

Your face heated instantly. “Drunk? No. You’d know if I were. I’d be dancing on this horse.” You drummed your hands on the horse's main. 

König hummed in amusement, his eyes glinting. “Then maybe I should get you a drink after this. I saw a stand selling some glühwein, it couldn’t hurt to get one drink.”

You hesitated, smile faltering for a fraction of a second. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, it sounded wonderful, but you couldn’t.

You forced your tone to stay casual. “Eh, maybe later.” You said, grabbing your gloves out of your coat pocket as the carousel slowed to a stop. “We’re on a mission. Can’t exactly be drinking on the job.”

König hummed, a faint note of disappointment under the sound, though he didn’t push. “Always so serious.” He said with mock sternness. “But fine, mein Fleißiger. After the mission, then.”

You blinked, then snorted a laugh so sudden it caused some heads to turn towards the two of you. “Me? I’m the hard working one? Oh, come on. König, you’re the one who used to keep me in line.”

He tilted his head, playing innocent, though the slight crinkle around his eyes gave him away. “Ja. Used too.” You rolled your eyes.

The carousel slowed to its final turn, the golden horses freezing mid-gallop. The music faded into a low hum before stopping entirely. The crowd moved in a gentle, laughing, wave as people dismounted their painted horses and benches. 

König was off first, steadying the brass pole as he turned and offered you his hand. You took his hand with a cheeky smile, feeling his hand drift to your hip once you landed down.

The world outside the carousel felt colder when you stepped down. Snow had thickened into a steady fall, flakes catching in König’s hat and on your eyelashes. The glow of the market lamps reflected in the ice rink that’s not too far away.

You brushed off some snow that had collected in the groves of your coat.

“Alright…” You muttered, scanning the passing crowd again. “We’ve been here long enough. Let’s move to another sector. Maybe the northwest vendor line.”

König didn’t answer immediately. You glanced at him, and found his gaze already fixed on the ice rink.

Not again…

He tilted his head slightly, eyes following the skater who nearly fell before catching himself on the rail. The faintest grin pulled at the corner of König’s mouth. Then he looked back at you. “We should go there.”

You groaned. “The ice rink?”

“Ja.” His tone was far too casual. “We’ll blend in more, yes? It would look suspicious if we only walk and stare.”

You stared at him for a moment. “König, we’re supposed to be watching. Not-”

He was already moving, his hand finding yours before you could finish. “Come on, Schatz.” He said, his voice soft, teasing in that maddening way that made it impossible to refuse without drawing attention. 

You still dug your heels in for half a second, but his stride was too long, too confident. “König…” You hissed under your breath as he guided you through the press of people toward the glowing rink. “This is a public square, not a covert operation. If that guy sees us, he’ll think we’re-”

“Tourists.” He interrupted smoothly for the second time, that grin still tugging faintly at his lips. “Which is what we need them to think, nein?” You were going to say not paying attention to him, but he had a point. 

It still didn’t stop you from shooting him a look. König wasn’t usually this… relaxed. He checks angles, scans exits, his hand is always close to his weapon even in civilian settings. 

Something was off.

You followed him reluctantly, the both of you passing a stall where someone sold candied almonds. The smell should’ve made your stomach turn in an unpleasant way. Which sucked, because you would have killed to snack on those, but it was just something with how the melted candy smelt fresh off the heat that made your stomach turn in on itself.

You gave a long sigh, resigned for the moment, though your stomach churned. God, you were nauseous for no reason.

—

You sat on the wooden bench by the rink, König was beside you, bent over as he put on his rented skates. He grunted softly as he tugged on the laces, his fingers, still gloved, fumbling with the knots.

You stole a glance at him as you tied your own pair with far more ease. The cold had painted his cheeks pink beneath the faint scruff of his stubble, and the way his brow furrowed at the stubborn laces almost made you smile.

Once you finished tying your skates, you stood carefully, testing your balance. The ice was crowded enough to look natural but not chaotic. It was getting later in the evening so less people were on the rink than how it would’ve been two hours ago.

König stood next to you, watching the skaters glide by with wide eyes. “Alright,” you said, clapping your hands once. “Let’s go.” König nodded and stepped forward onto the ice first.

You were about to follow when you saw the tiniest moment of hesitation from him. The blades of his skates scraped roughly against the already worn out ice, but he steadied himself with effort and turned back to you, extending one huge hand.

“Come on.” König caught himself, voice warm, steady, that hint of pride stitched into the tone. “It’s easy.”

You squinted at him, suspicious. “Easy, huh?”

He smiled. “Ja. Very easy.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you onto the ice. The cool slide of movement met you instantly, the soft thrill of balance returning like muscle memory. You began to skate smoothly, circling around with more wobble than you would’ve liked. However, you adjusted to the surface, the wind kissing your face as you moved.

When you turned back to König, he was still at the wall.

You blinked. “You coming?” It was you now who extended the hand.

“Ja! Ja, I am.” He said defensively, and you expected him to come take your hand, but he didn’t. He still stood still, both hands clutching the half wall of the rink.

You glided closer and lowered your hand, biting the inside of your cheek to hide a smirk. “König… do you even know how to skate?”

He cleared his throat, eyes flicking toward a passing child who zipped by effortlessly. “I know… the theory on how to ice-skate.”

You stopped in front of him. “The theory?”

He glared at you, cheeks redder now and not entirely from the cold. “I don’t go ice skating often, ja? Forgive me for being a little unbalanced.”

You couldn’t help it. The laugh burst free, rich and full, echoing faintly over the sound of blades. “You dragged me out here to ‘blend in,’ and you can’t even skate?”

König’s lips twitched, the faintest huff escaping him. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Maybe.” You grinned, leaning back on one foot as you skated in a slow, teasing half circle around him. “You look like a deer learning how to walk.”

That did it. His glare softened into something mischievous, dangerous in the way only König could be. Fond but determined. “Ah,” He said slowly, pushing off the railing. “You think you are funny, ja?”

You were already backing away. “No, no, König, wait-”

He lunged, trying to reach for you. His long arm outstretched, intenting on grabbing you and, no doubt, scruffing your hair or stealing a kiss just to get even. But the second he shifted his weight too far, the inevitable happened.

“Scheiße-!”

König’s foot slipped, his tall frame tipping sideways in one spectacular, slow-motion fall. His arms pinwheeled once, twice, and then he went down, landing in a puff of snow-dusted ice with a solid thud.

You gasped, skating closer, worried that he might have actually hurt himself. However it only took a heartbeat before you were laughing, full and bright, bent halfway over with your glove pressed to your face. “Oh my god! König!”

He groaned from the ice, rolling onto his back, one hand over his chest as if mortally wounded. “You laugh at my pain.”

“Yeah, because this is so much pain.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully, then pushed himself upright with surprising grace for his size. “Alright. Come here.” 

“Not a chance.” You skated backward, laughing harder as he tried to chase you, still shaky, still slipping, but stubborn as ever.

“Come here!”

“You’re going to fall again!”

“Then I will take you with me!”

You darted just out of reach, his gloved hand brushing your sleeve before you twisted away, gliding effortlessly across the rink. 

König’s laugh boomed across the rink, low and rough with exertion as he skidded after you. His scarf had come loose, one end fluttering behind him as he regained some semblance of rhythm on the ice. 

His strides grew more confident, but still clumsy. You slowed your pace a little, teasing him with it, skating backward in smooth circles while grinning up at him, still turning your head back every few seconds to make sure you wouldn’t bump into a kid. Thankfully, most kids who were on the ice didn’t come too far out in the middle of the rink. 

“You’re getting better,” You called, breath visible in the cold air. “Still not fast enough, though.”

“Oh?” His tone dipped, a grin audible behind it. “You think so?”

Before you could react, König pushed harder off the ice, a burst of energy that sent him gliding faster than expected. You yelped and turned, trying to gain distance with messy skating strokes, but his long arms gave him the advantage. In one clean motion, he caught your wrist and tugged you toward him.

You spun right into his chest with a soft oof, the both of you skidding to a stop near the middle of the rink. The two of you nearly fell, but his hands came around you instinctively, steady and warm despite his gloves. You could feel his laughter rumbling against you, deep and unrestrained, his breath brushing the side of your neck.

“Caught you…” He murmured.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away. “Barely.”

His arms tightened slightly, the teasing fading into something gentler. For a moment, the world slowed back down, the noise of skates and laughter dulled under his warm touch.

You looked up at him, your face close enough to see the faint curve of a smile tugging at his lips. He exhaled, a visible cloud in the cold. “You’re very warm,” he said softly, his accent thicker now, every word drawn out.

“You’re just freezing.”

“Maybe both.” König leaned his forehead down until it rested lightly against yours. You felt his pulse through his gloves where his hands rested at your lower back. 

You didn’t realize how long you’d been standing like that until your body reminded you. The warmth in your stomach twisted suddenly, the faint ache of nausea rising unbidden.

You swallowed against the metallic tang filling your mouth. The nausea rolled with a clarity that made your vision double for a heartbeat. 

You swallowed hard once. Then again… and again. By the fourth time your chest was burning up, forcing you to thump your hand against your chest to try to force it away.

König lifted his head, voice low and concerned. “What is it?”

“Nothing” You said quickly, forcing a small smile. “Just a little dizzy from spinning around.”

His brow furrowed, and his hand came up to your cheek, then your forehead, thumb brushing along the heated skin. “We can stop. You don’t look well.”

You shook your head, though your eyes softened at the worry in his voice. “I’m fine, König. Really.”

You barely got the last word out before the nausea hit again, stronger this time. It was like your stomach had suddenly flipped inside out. The cold air wasn’t helping.

You swayed a little, your hand tightening on König’s arm. “Actually-” You managed, your voice thin and trembling, “-I think it’s a good idea to get off the ice. Now.”

König didn’t hesitate for even a second. He immediately wrapped an arm around your waist, steadying you as he guided you toward the edge. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just hold on, ja?” The ice beneath you felt unstable, like it was swaying, your balance off as the queasiness churned deep in your stomach. 

You didn’t even make it to the bench area where people changed their skates before your eyes locked on the nearest trash can just past the barrier. You stumbled the last few steps, König right behind you as you leaned over it and gagged.

Your breath hitched painfully as your body gave in, the nausea tearing through you in waves. 

König’s large hand came to your back, rubbing slow circles, steady and grounding. “It’s alright, mein Herz…” He murmured, voice low and trembling slightly with worry. “Breathe… just breathe. I’m here.”

You could feel people nearby slowing, glancing over, causing König’s body to shift subtly with unease. However, he still stayed by your side and crouched a little beside you.

When you finally managed to pull back, your throat burned and your eyes watered. You wiped at your mouth with the back of your glove, humiliated and exhausted.

“You’ve been sick for weeks…” He said softly, voice hoarse but gentle. “This isn’t right. Maybe…” He hesitated, eyes scanning your face as you peered into the trash can. “Maybe we should go to the hospital, ja? Just to check. Make sure it isn’t something serious.”

You blinked fast, forcing a weak smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “No, no, it’s- it’s fine,” you said quickly, voice cracking a little. “I told you, it’s just a stomach bug or something. It’s been going around, right?”

König’s expression didn’t change, but the lines around his eyes deepened slightly, suspicious, or maybe just confused. “For a month?” He asked quietly.

Your pulse spiked. You realized too late what you’d just said- four weeks. You swallowed, suddenly feeling cornered by his concern. That’s right. It had been four weeks 

Because, in the beginning, you did think it was just a stomach bug. Until you threw up again and again, which led you to taking that pregnancy test in the first place. So, stomach bug has been your excuse the two weeks before you found out, and the two weeks after.

“I mean- yeah, it just comes and goes.” You said too fast, shaking your head. “It’s not that bad, I swear. I just… maybe I shouldn’t have had those waffles earlier.”

König didn’t look convinced. His eyes searched yours, worry flickering there like candlelight. He was quiet for a long moment, his breath fogging between you both. Then, softly, he said, “You look pale. You’ve lost weight too, and you’re not sleeping well. What if it’s something serious-”

You cut him off before that thought could finish, your voice firm but brittle. “No, König. I’m fine.”

The sudden edge in your tone startled him, and you instantly hated how sharp it sounded. His brows furrowed, hurt flashing across his eyes.

You softened your voice, taking a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, really I just... I don’t want to sit under fluorescent lights all night and wait for some doctor to tell me I caught something mild. Can we just…” You glanced toward the market, where the soft golden lights glowed between the stalls. “Can we just grab a tea or something? Maybe it’ll settle my stomach.”

König’s eyes lingered on you for a long time. He clearly didn’t buy your excuse, but he wasn’t going to push, not yet at least. You had bought yourself a bit more time.

Finally, he nodded slowly. “Tea...” He repeated, his voice low and reluctant. “Alright. But if you feel worse, we’re going to the hospital.”

—

After the skates were returned, König stayed close as y’all walked deeper into the market, one broad hand lingering at the small of your back to steady you when you wobbled. The nausea had faded into a hollow ache now, but your head still felt light, the kind of dizziness that made the edges of everything blur under the twinkling Christmas lights.

He guided you toward a quieter corner of the square. There was a little row of wooden benches dusted with snow, just beside a stall selling carved ornaments and candles, a nearby choir singing O Tannenbaum. König brushed a gloved hand over the bench to clear it off and motioned for you to sit.

“Stay here,” he said softly, his tone still laced with worry. “I’ll get you something warm, ja? Don’t move.”

You nodded, pulling your coat tighter as you sank down. The bench was cold, the kind of cold that crept through fabric, but the relief of sitting was immediate. Your legs had been trembling since you’d stepped off the ice.

You watched him for a moment as he disappeared into the small crowd, his height made him easy to spot even from a distance. You couldn’t help but notice how casual he looked, his hands were shoved into his pockets, posture loose. 

Strange.

You sat there quietly, your fingers rubbing at the seam of your gloves. König was taking his time, far longer than he ever would on an actual mission. You told yourself he was just being careful with the tea, maybe waiting in line, but a knot had already started to form in your stomach.

Something wasn’t adding up.

Your mind began to replay the night in slow, scattered pieces. The carousel, the skating, the laughter. You realized how much he’d smiled, how light he’d been, even playful. König never acted like that when he was working. 

On a mission, he was sharp, focused, all edges and discipline. He didn’t let himself get distracted, didn’t stop to point out Christmas decorations or chase you around an ice rink.

You blinked slowly, your pulse beginning to rise.

There hadn’t been a single mention about briefings, no updates, no mentions of sightings. And König didn’t seem too bothered.

A realization dawned on you. König wasn’t stressed about the mission because there was no mission to stress over.

There is no mission.

By the time König came back, he was approaching slowly, careful not to spill the steaming paper cup in his hands. His scarf was dusted with snowflakes, his eyes soft and searching when they met yours. “They only had peppermint.” He said, voice low and warm. “But it should help settle your stomach?”

You didn’t take it right away. You just looked at him, really looked at him. He somehow had less wrinkles around his eyes, you noticed.

Your chilled fingers twitched in your lap.

“There is no mission.”

König froze mid-step, cup still halfway extended. His eyes widened, barely, but you saw it. Then, slowly, he exhaled. “What makes you say that?” His tone was calm, but there was a faint, guilty lilt to it.

You gave him a look, one corner of your mouth tugging up in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Because you’ve barely looked at anyone since we got here. Because you don’t laugh like that during missions. Because I’ve been staring at this crowd for hours and there’s nothing suspicious here, except you, sneaking me into holiday activities under a fake mission.”

König sighed, his shoulders lifted in a slow, helpless shrug. “You needed rest…” He said simply. “You wouldn’t stop signing up for missions. Even small ones. So I…”

“Made one up.” You finished for him.

He nodded once, setting the cup carefully on the bench beside you before sinking down next to you with a soft sigh. The wood creaked under his weight. You looked at him, unsure whether to be angry or touched, or both. The warm light from a nearby lamp highlighted every part of his face you loved.

“I just wanted to see you enjoying the holidays like you usually do.”

Your throat tightened. The warmth in your chest, the guilt, the exhaustion, it all twisted together until it was hard to tell where one feeling ended and another began.

You picked up the cup he’d brought, cradling it between your gloved hands. The tea’s steam rose into the cold air, carrying the faint scent of peppermint into your nose.

“You didn’t have to lie… ” You murmured after a moment, your voice soft but shaking slightly.

König’s gaze dropped to the ground. “You wouldn’t have come if I didn’t.”

You didn’t argue. Because he was right.

The tea was warm between your palms, but it did little to chase the cold from your chest. König sat beside you, quiet and still, the firelight dancing in his eyes.

However, you could only think about how awful you felt.

The guilt pressed heavy in your gut, heavier than the nausea had been. König had lied to get you here, yes… but for the right reason. He wasn’t angry that you’d been distant. He’d just brought you to a whole Christmas market. 

And what have you done? Snapped at him. Lied to him. 

He shifted beside you then, standing with a slow stretch, snow falling from his coat as he moved. When he turned to you, his expression was still kind, still cautious.

“You’re still pale.” He said softly. “We can go home if you want. You’ve done enough walking for one night.”

You looked up at him, the words catching in your throat. Going home sounded nice, but there was a part of you that couldn’t stand to see that faint shadow of disappointment in his eyes. König had gone through so much just to get you out.

You shook your head. “No… no, let’s stay,” you said quickly, setting the cup aside. “What’s something you want to do? Anything. We can do that.”

He blinked, surprised, then smiled. It was small and warm, the kind of smile that melted away the sharpness in his posture. “Anything?”

You nodded, forcing a faint grin. “Anything.”

“Alright,” He said softly, and he paused for a moment as he thought, scanning the glowing market. Then his eyes softened with a quiet decision, and he gestured for you to follow.

The two of you walked through the stalls again, the snow falling in lazy flakes. König stayed close, his arm brushing yours as he led you past the carousel, past the ice rink, and past the stall selling glühwein.

He slowed his pace and turned to face you. His gloved hand slipped into his coat pocket, fumbling for something.

“Here.” He said after a moment, his voice quiet but steady. “I wanted to give you this.”

He pulled it, a small snow globe ornament. Inside, a miniature Nuremberg square was caught mid-snowfall, with tiny stalls that were painted with delicate care. When he turned it slightly, silver glitter swirled like frost.

“I saw it when I went for your tea.” He explained, shifting his weight a little. “Thought… it would look nice on the tree.”

You looked at the ornament in his hand. It was tiny, beautiful, and fragile. It made your throat tighten.

It shouldn’t have been enough to make you cry, but your heart was already commanding your eyes to do so. 

Your breath hitched. You blinked hard, trying to swallow it down, but the hot tears slipped free anyways.

König froze, eyes widening slightly. “Oh- mein Herz, what is it?”

You shook your head quickly, wiping at your face with your sleeve, but the more you tried to stop, the harder it came. “I- I didn’t get you anything,” You choked out, voice breaking. “You’ve been nothing but sweet all night, and I- God, I’ve been such a jerk.”

König looked stunned for a second, then utterly heartbroken. “No, no, nein, you haven’t-”

“Yes, I have,” You interrupted, your voice trembling. “You had to fake a whole mission just to get me to spend time with you, and I still managed to ruin that too. I’ve been so distracted and awful and…” You trailed off, biting your lip hard to keep from sobbing outright. “And you’ve just been patient through all of it.”

He stood silent for a moment, the snow gathering on his shoulders, before carefully reaching out to take your hand. 

“Hey…” He murmured, voice soft and thick with emotion. “You are not awful. You are tired and human. I don’t care about the presents or gifts.”

You couldn’t speak, not around the lump in your throat. König lifted the ornament slightly, pressing it into your palm with a gentleness that made you want to cry even more.

“This,” He said quietly. “It’s just a thing. You-” He paused, his thumb brushing the back of your hand, “You are the only gift I ever need.”

You took a slow, shaky breath. The guilt was still there, and you couldn’t keep it inside anymore. 

“...König,” You mumbled, your voice low but steady, wiping away the tears that still stubbornly clinged onto your face.

He blinked, a quiet hum of concern leaving him. “Ja?”

“I lied.” Your voice cracked. You swallowed hard, fingers clutching the snow globe so tightly you worried it might shatter. “I do have a gift for you too.”

He tilted his head, brow furrowing in confusion. “A gift?”

You nodded, your eyes glistening faintly with nerves, but you didn’t look away. “Yeah… and it’s a big one. I don’t know if you’ll want it.”

König pulled back just enough to study your face, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What do you mean, Liebling? How could I not want a gift from you?”

You hesitated, then reached down with your free hand, curling your fingers around his wrist. Slowly, you guided his hand to stomach before any fear could swallow you whole. You pressed his broad palm against the front of your coat. Your heart thudded so hard you swore he must feel it.

For a second, his brow furrowed. “Your stomach?” His voice was puzzled, but the words came softer, almost reverent. You met his eyes, your throat tight. The only answer you could give him was a single, deliberate look.

And then it clicked.

His breath caught audibly, shoulders going stiff beneath his heavy coat. His whole body froze, like he’d been cut out of the crowd and placed in a glass case. His hand stayed pressed against your stomach, frozen, but you felt the way his fingers trembled faintly.

Time had essentially stopped for König.

Tears appeared at the corners of his eyes so suddenly you could see them catch the light. “You…” His voice faltered, breaking. ““Du… bist-?”

You nodded again, the motion shaking. “About ten weeks I think,” You managed and the words just kept flooding out. “I stopped my T shots. I didn’t know how to tell you.” The sentence dissolved into a choke.

König’s face shifted through a dozen expressions at once. At first he was stunned, as if your words had rearranged his entire understanding of the word. 

After that came protectiveness, the familiar coil that tightened behind his eyes when he imagined danger. And finally, what abrupt and hot as embers, anger, not at you, but at the thought of what you’d been risking.

“You’ve- you’ve been going on missions like this?” His voice was a low, dangerous rumble. The German sharpened the edges. “Alleine? Mit—mit unschuldigen Dingen? Mit einem Baby?” 

He grabbed your forearms, hard enough that you felt his finger tips press down into your skin through your sleeves. “Warum hast du das getan?” 

Guilt burned through you. “I-” You began and then stopped, because any answer felt too big to put into words and denial felt worse. So you kept it short and simple. “I was scared…” You whispered. “I didn’t want you to-” You couldn’t say the words aloud. To tell him the truth as to why you kept it a secret. It seemed so silly now. 

“I didn’t know how…” Your knees threatened to give out. 

Silence hung heavy for a second, then broke under the force of König’s reaction. Hot and heavy tears welled up in his eyes and he let out a bright sound that was almost a laugh.

König did the only thing he could think of, he scooped you up. You gasped, clinging to his shoulders as you were lifted off your feet.

He spun you once, twice, the motion dizzying and elating, your boots leaving the cobbles for the warmth of his arms. He spun you around in a ridiculous, clumsy circle in the middle of the square.

Your mouth shifted into a shaky laughter because the world had suddenly tilted on a kinder axis. Laughter bursted from his chest too, even as tears brimmed in his eyes. His scarf muffled his words, but you heard them anyway, rough and fierce. “Mein Liebling, meine Liebe, du bist schwanger…!”

He finally set you back down on your feet, but his hands didn’t leave you. One cupped your face, the other splayed protectively over your stomach.

“Thank you…” He says to you again and again with so much warmth and love in his voice. His eyes shone, red at the edges, his chest rising and falling like he’d run miles. 

He let out another shaky breath. “I’m-” His voice cracked. “I’m going to be a father.”

“Yeah… we both are.”