Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

At The Eldian royal council chamber, bathed in cold sunlight streaming through tall, arched windows. The room is filled with nobles and military advisors, their faces etched with tension as King Erwin Smith listens to their debate with his trademark stoic calm.

Across the sea, in the grand halls of Marly's royal palace, Prince Armin Arlert stands before his council, trying to mask his unease as his advisors and his grandfather the king present the same proposal.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Eldia

Levi Ackerman, Erwin’s trusted general, crossed his arms, leaning against the stone wall. “A marriage alliance? Tch. Seems desperate, even for them.”
“Desperate, yes, but effective,”

“If Marly’s willing to put their precious prince on the line, it means they’re serious about peace.” An elder standing at the far edge of the council table said

Erwin sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, silencing the murmurs of the gathered nobles. “Marly’s Prince Armin is known for his intellect. A union with him could stabilize relations and potentially unite our resources against common enemies.”

Levi scoffed. “You’ve heard the rumors, though. The prince is delicate, soft. Pretty to look at, sure, but hardly a match for you. You need strength at your side, not—”
“Not every battle is won with swords, Levi,” Erwin cut in, his voice low but commanding. “If Marly’s prince is as intelligent as they say, he may be exactly what Eldia needs. And what I need.”

The room fell silent. Erwin’s tone left no room for argument.

Yet, when the others turned their attention elsewhere, Erwin’s gaze shifted to the frost-laden window. A marriage born of strategy, not choice. He had long resigned himself to sacrificing personal desires for the greater good. But something about this felt... different.

Yet it was too early to say for sure it might just be his heart playing games with him

_____________________________________________________________________________

Marly

“Out of the question!” Mikasa Ackerman’s voice rang through the ornate council hall. Though Armin’s cousin, she was also one of Marly’s fiercest generals, and her protective instincts flared at the mere suggestion of sending him away.

Armin stood in the center of the room, his slender frame draped in silks of deep blue, his golden hair catching the light. Despite his calm expression, his heart raced ,ached and everything in between those emotions

“It’s not as if I’m being sent to my death, Mikasa,” he said softly, his voice steady. “This is for peace. For Marly . for us .”

A young scholar who often shadowed Armin, stepped forward hesitantly. “But to Eldia, Your Highness? Their king... Erwin Smith. He’s said to be cold, ruthless—”

“And wise,” Armin interrupted, turning to face the council. His azure eyes, so much softer than Erwin’s but no less sharp, met each advisor’s gaze and finally landing on his grandfather . “He’s not a man who wastes time on sentiment, but neither am I. If this alliance strengthens Marly, I will do my duty.”

Mikasa frowned, her hands clenched into fists clearly still upset . “You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your happiness for duty.”

Armin hesitated. Happiness? It wasn’t something he had considered since the tragic day that took his parents away from him leaving alone in such a cruel environment . “Perhaps I won’t have to,” he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

In his mind maybe just maybe life will smile at him for once maybe this marriage wont be the empty half of the cup

____________________________________________________________________

The Announcement

When the official proclamations were delivered to both kingdoms, the responses were mixed. In Eldia, whispers of intrigue and skepticism filled the air. The image of their cold, commanding king bound to a foreign, delicate prince was hard to imagine.

In Marly, the court buzzed with a mix of excitement and dread. Their brilliant young prince, a symbol of hope and beauty, was to be wed to a man known for his unyielding authority. And finally the consent fights between the 2 countries were over '

Erwin received the news of the finalized agreement in his study, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared at a map of the two kingdoms. The faintest smile tugged at his lips. “Let us see if this Prince Armin is as remarkable as they claim.”

Armin, meanwhile, stood on the balcony of his chambers, the ocean breeze ruffling his hair. He clutched the letter confirming the date of his departure. Despite his outward composure, his mind raced. “King Erwin,” he murmured, testing the name on his lips. “I wonder if you’ll see me as more than a piece in your strategy.”

Chapter Text

Marly

Armin sat at his ornate writing desk, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating the delicate features of his face. A letter to Mikasa lay half-written before him, but his hand faltered as his thoughts drifted.Am I ready for this?

He placed the pen down carefully, his hands trembling slightly. The weight of duty pressed on his chest. For all his outward composure, the thought of leaving his homeland, his family, his people—it filled him with both purpose and dread.

Behind him, Eren Jaeger, his closest companion and trusted confidant, adjusted the folds of Armin’s traveling cloak. “You’re overthinking again,” Eren muttered, his sharp green eyes softening as he caught Armin’s gaze in the mirror.

“It’s hard not to,” Armin replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “This isn’t just a journey; it’s... everything. My life. My future , I guess it was easy putting a face of confidence Infront of everyone Eren ! but , it all seems too real right now “

Eren paused, resting a reassuring hand on Armin’s shoulder. “You’ll make it work. You always do. And if that king of theirs doesn’t see how amazing you are, I’ll make him regret it.”
Armin let out a soft laugh, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears his hand still shaking . “Thank you, Eren.” He said softly not wanting to think anymore
Eren smirked. “Besides, I hear his bodyguard’s quite the looker. I’ll keep myself entertained while you conquer your new kingdom.”
Despite himself, Armin smiled. Eren’s irreverence was a balm to his nerves.

The next day, came faster than Armin had hoped he stood at the palace gates, dressed in a traveling outfit of pale blues and silver that shimmered in the sunlight.
Mikasa waiting for him embraced him tightly, her stern facade crumbling. “If they so much as frown at you, I’ll come for them,” she promised.

“I know you will,” Armin replied, returning her embrace as tightly as he could , tying to engrave her scent and her warmth deep into his mind his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. “But I’ll be fine. This is for all of us.”

Mikasa pulled away wiping a tear that slid into armins face without him noticing “ write to me and I promise to write back everyday “ giving his hands a squeeze of reassurance
“ eren “ she looks at the man standing behind armin “ I don’t have to tell you to keep him safe do I “

Eren gently shakes his head , content Mikasa helps armin into the carriage saying her last goodbye

As the carriage pulled away, Armin gazed out at the receding palace, his heart heavy yet filled with determination for what awaits him

________________________________________

Eldia

Erwin stood on the balcony of his chambers, gazing at the horizon. The air was crisp, the mountains in the distance . Below, the castle bustled with preparations for the arrival of Marly’s prince.

Hange’s voice broke his thoughts. “You’re awfully quiet about this whole thing.” The royal physician and one of Erwins close friends
Erwin turned, his expression unreadable. “There’s little to say. This is a union of necessity.”

“Sure, but you’re marrying the Armin Arlert. People talk about him like he’s some celestial being come to life,” Hange teased. “Aren’t you curious?” stepping closer to him
Curious wasn’t the right word. Intrigued, perhaps. The thought of meeting someone so celebrated for their intellect and grace stirred something in him—a quiet yearning, buried deep. “I’ll meet him soon enough,” Erwin said simply his face still stone cold .

Levi, standing nearby, snorted. “Let’s hope he’s more useful than ornamental.”

“Everyone has their strengths, Levi,” Erwin replied, his tone carrying a hint of reproach. “I’ll find his.”

“ yeah sure “ levi reply’s back sarcasm written all over his face

__________________________________________________________________

The carriage rocked gently as it made its way through the winding roads toward Eldia. Armin sat across from Eren, the thick curtains of the carriage drawn back slightly, letting in slivers of golden sunlight. The further they traveled, the more the landscape changed—the familiar coastlines of Armin’s homeland giving way to rolling green fields, towering forests, and distant mountains.

Armin rested his chin on his hand, his gaze distant. "It feels strange," he admitted after a long silence.
Eren, who had been gazing out the window, turned to him. "What does?"

"Leaving home," Armin murmured. "Knowing that I may never return." He exhaled, his fingers twisting into the fabric of his cloak. "Even though I knew this day would come, I don’t think I ever really prepared myself for it."

Eren frowned slightly. "Do you regret it?"

Armin’s lips pressed together. "No. This is my duty. But… I don’t know what awaits me in Eldia. I know of Lord Erwin, I know what’s expected of me, but I don’t know what kind of life I’ll have there." He glanced at Eren, a small, wry smile on his lips. "Or if I’ll be happy."

Eren reached across, gripping his hand firmly. "Then if you’re not happy, we’ll figure something out."
Armin chuckled lightly, squeezing his hand back. "You always say that."

"Because I mean it." Eren leaned back against the carriage seat, his expression determined. "You don’t have to do this alone, Armin. You have me."

That thought comforted Armin more than he cared to admit.

As the carriage passed through the grand gates of Eldia’s capital, Armin’s breath caught in his throat.
Eldia was… magnificent.

The streets were lined with tall, elegant buildings of white stone, their windows adorned with gold filigree and blue banners bearing the royal crest. The people were well-dressed, their conversations filled with curiosity as they watched the royal carriage pass. The air was thick with the scent of fresh bread, blooming flowers, and the faintest trace of incense from the many temples scattered throughout the city.

"This place is… breathtaking," Armin whispered, pressing a hand to his chest.
Eren smirked. "Not bad, huh? It’s different from home."

"Very different," Armin agreed, his eyes still drinking in every detail. His home had always smelled of salt and sea breeze, the streets filled with merchants and fishermen. But Eldia… Eldia looked like it had been built for gods.

As they approached the palace, Armin’s awe deepened.

Armin held his breath, his fingers curling into the fabric of his cloak. The sheer size of Eldia’s palace was overwhelming—massive marble pillars lined the entrance, carved with intricate patterns of vines and mythical creatures, while banners of deep green and gold fluttered from the tallest spires. The air smelled of polished wood, fresh parchment, and blooming white roses from the nearby royal gardens.

Eren whistled under his breath. "Well… they sure know how to make an impression."

Armin swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the edge of his seat. "This is where I’ll live now," he murmured, almost to himself.

The carriage slowed, finally coming to a stop at the grand entrance. A footman hurried forward, bowing low as he swung open the door and gestured for Armin to step out.
Armin hesitated. He had expected to be greeted by Lord Erwin himself, but instead, standing at the base of the grand staircase was a shorter man with sharp features, his expression unreadable. Dressed in a tailored black and silver uniform, he stood his head slightly bowed , piercing grey eyes scanning Armin with cool precision.
Beside him, Eren stiffened. His gaze flickered to the man’s, and for a brief second, an unspoken exchange passed between them—one Armin didn’t fully understand.
"Welcome to Eldia prince Armin Arlert of Marly ," the man finally said, his voice smooth but devoid of warmth. "I’m Levi Ackerman his royal highness loyal general, and I will be overseeing things until the wedding."

Armin gathered himself, offering a small bow. "It’s an honour, general Ackerman."

Levi’s brow twitched slightly. "Just Levi if you may your highness ." He turned on his heel “please follow me “

Armin followed Levi up the massive staircase, Eren trailing close behind. At the entrance, the head butler—an elderly man with silver hair and an air of practiced elegance—stepped forward.

"Your Highness," he greeted with a deep bow. "Welcome to the royal palace. I am Arthur, the head butler. If you need anything during your stay, please do not hesitate to ask."

Armin nodded politely, though his stomach churned with nerves.

As they stepped into the palace, he was instantly struck by the sheer grandeur of it all. The ceilings were impossibly high, adorned with gold leaf detailing and fresco paintings of past rulers. Enormous crystal chandeliers hung above them, casting light across the polished marble floors. Every piece of furniture looked expensive, from the hand-carved wooden chairs to the deep sapphire velvet drapes framing the arched windows.

Levi walked ahead at a brisk pace, pointing things out without much ceremony.

"That’s the main ballroom—don’t go in unless you want to be smothered by nobles. That’s the council chamber—boring, unless you like listening to old men argue. The dining hall is down that corridor, but don’t expect to eat with Erwin until after the wedding. Custom dictates he can’t see you until then."

Armin’s lips parted slightly at that. He had known about the tradition, but hearing it out loud made it feel… real. He wouldn’t meet the man he was to marry until the ceremony itself , he had to remind himself why and for what he is doing all of this for.

They passed through a series of elegant hallways, each more extravagant than the last. Large oil paintings of past rulers lined the walls, their regal gazes following Armin as he walked. Every few feet, golden sconces held flickering candlelight, their glow illuminating the intricate floral carvings on the dark wooden panels.

When they reached a towering set of double doors, Levi came to a stop.

"This is your chamber," he announced, nodding toward Arthur. The butler stepped forward and pushed the doors open with a practiced grace.
Armin stepped inside and immediately felt his breath catch in his throat.

The chamber was… enormous. Far larger than anything he had ever lived in. The floors were made of polished white marble, softened by sprawling navy and gold rugs. The ceiling stretched high above him, adorned with delicate chandeliers that sparkled like stars. Large arched windows framed the far side of the room, letting in golden afternoon sunlight that bathed the space in warmth. Through the windows, Armin could see a view of the palace gardens—hedges shaped into intricate patterns, a glistening fountain, and blooming flowers in shades of ivory and deep crimson.

The centrepiece of the room was the grand canopy bed, draped in the finest silk curtains. The sheets were a luxurious deep blur, embroidered with golden patterns that remind Armin of his beloved ocean that he has left behind . Plush pillows were arranged neatly at the head, their soft fabric practically inviting him to sink into them.

To the left of the bed was a sitting area—two elegant velvet armchairs placed before a fireplace, a small table set between them. An ornate wooden desk stood near the window, accompanied by a high-backed chair, a stack of fresh parchment and ink neatly arranged on its surface.

To the right, an arched doorway led into an adjoining room, likely a bathing chamber. A massive wardrobe lined the wall, its gilded doors slightly ajar, revealing rows of carefully arranged clothing—most of which Armin had never seen before in a style that he wasn’t aware of

Arthur cleared his throat politely. "The servants will ensure that everything you require is provided for. If you need additional clothing or personal items, simply inform them or me your highness “

Armin turned slowly, his expression unreadable. It was all… too much. The grandeur, the unfamiliarity, the reality of what was happening it was just …too much

Levi watched him carefully before exhaling through his nose. "It’s a lot, I know," he muttered. "You’ll get used to it eventually”

Armin swallowed, nodding stiffly. " yes ,Thank you."

Levi glanced at him once more before turning on his heel. "Get some rest your highness I will be here when you need me “

And with that, he strode out of the room, leaving Armin standing there, surrounded by luxury—yet feeling more out of place than ever

Chapter Text

Days in Eldia passed in a daze. Armin spent most of his time being groomed, dressed, and fussed over by an endless stream of attendants who barely gave him a moment to breathe. Each morning, they ushered him into a grand bathing chamber, scented oils and flower petals floating in the warm water as they scrubbed and primped him like he was made of glass. And then came the dresses—flowing, extravagant, and far heavier than anything he was used to.

Today was no different.

Armin sat in front of the gilded vanity mirror, his chin resting dramatically in his palm as the maids adjusted the elaborate golden clasps on his sleeves. His current outfit—a sunset-orange robe embroidered with delicate floral designs—felt too regal, too foreign. He was used to simple, breathable fabrics, not layers upon layers of silks and jewels that jingled softly whenever he moved.

“Must I wear this?” he sighed, watching himself in the mirror as another maid adjusted his hair.

“His Majesty has gifted these garments for you, Your Highness,” one of the maidens responded gently, carefully placing a jeweled hairpin in his golden locks. “It is tradition for the royal consort to wear the finest attire while residing in the palace.”

Armin sighed again, deeper this time, sinking further into his seat. “I feel like a doll being dressed up for display.”

A few of the servants exchanged nervous glances, unsure whether to laugh or apologize, but before anyone could respond, a polite cough caught Armin’s attention.

Arthur, the royal butler, stood at the entrance of the chamber, his ever-composed expression unwavering. Dressed in his crisp black and silver uniform, he held a small scroll in his gloved hands. “Your Highness, if I may.”

Armin turned his tired gaze toward him. “If you’re here to add more things to my outfit, I respectfully decline.”

Arthur’s lips twitched, almost as if he were fighting a smirk. “Not quite, Your Highness.” He stepped forward, offering the scroll. “I understand that the days must feel long for you in a new kingdom. His Majesty has given orders that you may occupy yourself with anything that brings you joy. Here is a list of activities permitted within the palace walls.”

Armin’s brows lifted in mild interest as he took the scroll and unrolled it. The list was lengthy—ranging from embroidery lessons to horseback riding, music practice, and garden strolls. Some of the options did pique his curiosity, but one stood out immediately.

“The library,” he murmured, his fingers lightly brushing over the words.

Arthur inclined his head. “The palace holds one of the most extensive collections of literature in Eldia, gathered from across the world. It is a favored retreat for scholars and nobles alike.”

Armin’s eyes brightened. It had been so long since he had indulged in the comfort of books, and the thought of a library filled with knowledge, untouched pages, and the quiet solace of reading filled him with excitement.

“I’d like to go there,” he decided, straightening in his seat

Arthur gave a short bow. “As you wish, Your Highness. I shall escort you if you want me too.”

Armin barely paid attention as the maids finished their final touches. His heart was already set on the rows of bookshelves and the stories they held. Finally, something familiar in this strange, unfamiliar kingdom.

some time has passed by as Armin was sipping his tea uncomfortable by the layers of clothes that his body is holding
Eren ever so the wild spirt strolled into Armin’s chamber without so much as a knock, arms crossed and a barely suppressed grin on his lips. He took one long look at Armin—dressed in layers of heavy, golden-embroidered silk, stiff brocade, and an abundance of pearls woven into his hair—before letting out an obnoxious snort.

“Damn, Armin. You look like a cake.”

Armin, who had been reclining in his chair by the window, slowly turned his head to glare at his childhood friend. “Excuse me?”

Eren grinned wider, walking over and flicking at the stiff collar of Armin’s attire. “No offense, but you look ridiculous. Are you sure you’re getting married and not being offered as a festival decoration?”

That was the last straw.

Armin let out a dramatic sigh, standing up abruptly and reaching for the nearest pearl-laden accessory in his hair. “You know what? I’ve had enough.”

Eren blinked as Armin yanked the elaborate golden headpiece from his hair, pearls clattering to the floor as he tossed it onto the vanity. The maids, who had been quietly tidying the room, gasped in horror.

“Your Highness—” one of them started, but Armin was already working on undoing the stiff buttons of his outer robe, muttering under his breath.

Eren leaned against the doorframe, watching in amused silence as Armin stripped away layer after layer of Eldian finery. His golden-embroidered robe fell to the floor, revealing a pale underlayer, but even that was too much. With quick fingers, Armin loosened the corset-like ties around his waist, finally freeing himself from the heavy, suffocating garments.

“You know, you’re kind of proving my point,” Eren remarked, watching as Armin stood there in nothing but his linen chemise and an unimpressed expression.

“I don’t care.” Armin huffed, storming to his wardrobe. “I refuse to spend another day looking like a gilded mannequin.”

The maids exchanged panicked glances but wisely said nothing as Armin rummaged through the selection of clothes that had been brought for him. Most were Eldian, dripping in jewels and rich embroidery, but then his fingers brushed against something soft and familiar.

He pulled out a flowing lavender dress, light as air, its fabric moving like water as he held it up. It was Marleyan in style—simple yet elegant, cinched just enough at the waist to highlight his figure, but loose enough to grant him freedom of movement. Unlike the heavy Eldian garments, this dress made him feel like himself.

“This will do.” He slipped into it with practiced ease, the soft fabric a welcome relief against his skin. When he turned back to Eren, his friend was watching him with something akin to approval.

“Better,” Eren said with a nod. “At least now you don’t look like you’re about to collapse under all that fabric.”

Armin rolled his eyes. “I’m going to the library.”

Eren arched a brow. “You sure you won’t get lost? This place is huge you can call the butl - "

“I’ll figure it out.” And with that, Armin lifted his chin and strode out of his chamber.

The palace halls were grand, far larger than anything he’d seen in Marley. The ceilings stretched impossibly high, adorned with intricate frescoes of Eldian history. Every step he took echoed faintly against marble floors, the long, arched windows casting golden sunlight over the polished stone.

Servants moved about, bowing respectfully as he passed, but Armin barely acknowledged them. His eyes roamed the walls, lined with portraits of past rulers and tapestries woven with scenes of ancient conquests. The air smelled faintly of old books, fresh flowers, and something uniquely Eldian—perhaps the scent of the polished wood and rich incense used throughout the palace.

Despite the beauty around him, Armin felt a pang of isolation. Everything here was so foreign, so different from the home he had known. The language, the customs, even the clothes—it was like stepping into a different world, one that expected him to seamlessly belong.

As he wandered further, he finally spotted a pair of grand double doors left slightly ajar. The scent of parchment and ink drifted through the gap, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

Armin pushed the doors open, stepping into the library.

It was magnificent.

Towering shelves lined the vast room, packed with books bound in fine leather and gilded lettering. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the countless tomes. In the center of the room, several plush chairs and desks were arranged, designed for scholars and nobility alike to sit and read in comfort. A spiral staircase led to a second level, where even more books waited to be explored.

Mazes of shelves, filled with books on every subject imaginable. Armin wandered in awe, his fingers trailing over the spines of ancient tomes. The quiet hum of the place was a sanctuary, a momentary reprieve from the overwhelming reality of his situation.

He found a corner filled with maps and sat down, opening a book detailing Eldia’s military campaigns. His brow furrowed as he read, his mind alight with questions and insights.
What he thought it was minutes turns out to be hours when a voice brought him back to reality “You seem engrossed.”

The voice startled him. Armin looked up to see a tall man with striking blue eyes and an air of quiet authority standing a few feet away. Dressed simply but elegantly, the man carried himself with a confidence that was almost intimidating.

“I—I apologize if I’m intruding,” Armin stammered, standing quickly he knows that he shouldn’t be here without a maid or the butlers knowledge

The man smiled faintly closing the book he had in hand . “Not at all. This library is for all who seek knowledge. What caught your interest?” he questions

Armin relaxed slightly, gesturing to the book. “Your kingdom’s … Eldia strategies. They’re... fascinating, though I noticed some weaknesses in your naval defences here.” He pointed to a map . Worried if he shouldn’t have said what’s on his mind after a long pause that accompanied his statement

The man raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’re quite perceptive. Most wouldn’t notice that.”

Armin flushed, ducking his head. “I’ve always had an eye for such things.”

After that awkward introduction they spoke for some time, discussing everything from military strategy to philosophy. That nameless man found himself captivated by the blond omega’s intellect and passion.

As they parted, the blue eyed man watched him go, a faint smile playing on his lips. Who is he?

Armin, meanwhile, felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. For the first time since this journey began, he felt a glimmer of hope. With the same question lingering in his mind . Who is he ?

Chapter Text

It has been days since the two strangers met , Armin has made a habit of wondering the halls of the grand library without having an escort , he sat cross-legged on a cushion near a stained-glass window, a soft beam of light illuminating the open book on his lap. His brow furrowed as he scribbled notes into a small journal, occasionally pausing to nibble the end of his quill a habit that everyone tried to stray him away from it but without any success.

“You’ve claimed this corner as your own,” a familiar voice teased.

Armin looked up, startled, but quickly composed himself. “And you’ve made a habit of finding me here.” he teased back

the man chuckled softly, sitting down on the other side of the table. “Perhaps I’m drawn to good company.”

Armin smiled, though he felt the heat rising to his cheeks. “Good company or good debates?” he countered, setting his quill down.

“Both, if I’m fortunate,” Erwin replied, his eyes twinkling

This is how they spent their little secret meetings , their discussions ranged from Eldian history to Marly’s advancements in medicine. Armin was careful not to disclose too much about his identity, though the blue eyed man sensed there was more to him than met the eye.

“You speak with such authority,” the man observed one day, leaning back in his chair. “Are you a scholar?”

“Something like that,” Armin replied evasively, glancing away. “And you? You seem well-versed in military matters.”

the blue eyed man hesitated. “I’ve had... experience,” he admitted, watching Armin closely.

“War is a heavy burden,” Armin said softly, his eyes clouding as he is looking down at the book placed on the velvet oak wood study table “One I wish neither kingdoms had to bear.” his voice hinting with a bit of vulnerability and For a moment, their gazes locked, the weight of unspoken truths passing between them.

Armin excused himself first he couldn't stay any longer the sun has sat a long time ago yet he is shamelessly wanting to spend more time with the nameless man , he was so ever grateful that the man didn't push for a name and and Armin has honored him the same treatment

" you are late " Eren paced inside guest chambers, his arms crossed clearly mad “You’ve been sneaking off to the library every day !,” he said accusingly as Armin entered the room. “What’s going on? you even don't want me to tag along !"

Armin smiled faintly, hanging his cloak on a hook. “I’ve been... talking to someone.”

Eren raised an eyebrow throwing his hands in the air clearly still upset yet intrigued . “Talking?”

“Debating,” Armin corrected, his cheeks coloring. “He’s... insightful. And kind. It’s refreshing.”

Eren smirked, flopping onto the bed. “wait are u blushing ? he ? who is he ? a man ? someone caught your attention ??! " clearly shocked by how things are looking for his childhood friend

“It’s not like that,” Armin protested, though the quickness of his reply betrayed him " and I'm not blushing its just I was walking fast ..to get here " placing a hand on his cheek

Eren shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, just be careful. Eldia isn’t exactly overflowing with trustworthy people.”

“I know,” Armin said, his tone more serious. “But there’s something about him... I feel like I can be myself when we talk.”

Eren stands up " you are really hopeless , you should stop reading all these romantic novels " he teases last time before walking away mumbling his goodnights

After Eren left Armin started to undress himself finding comfort of not having the eyes of foreign servants on him , putting on his night gown before slipping under the soft and fluffy covers , his mind replaying the events of today , the blue eyed man the way he carried himself when he spoke it was so powerful yet Armin has never felt small nor weak under his gaze , his thoughts took a turn when he remembered Erens words " he is imaging things ... I wasn't blushing its just hot here in Eldia " somehow trying to convince himself .

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One evening, as Armin poured over an ancient text claiming his usual spot , the man approached him with firm but gentle steps with a book in hand. “I thought you might like this,” he said, placing it gently on the table vis voice calm yet his eyes held excitement .

Armin looked at the title—The Philosophy of Leadership. “Thank you,” he said, genuinely touched while tracing the patterns that decorated the book cover

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” the man continued, sitting across from him. “About war being a burden. You’re right. But isn’t it also an opportunity? To shape the world into something better?” genuinely asking

Armin tilted his head, considering. “That depends on the leaders. If their vision is clear and their hearts are just, perhaps. But too often, ambition clouds judgment.”

the blue eyed man nodded slowly. “And what of you? What would you do, if given the chance to lead?”

The question caught Armin off guard. He looked down, his fingers tracing the edge of the book for comfort . “I would try to understand my people. Their needs, their fears. A leader isn’t just a ruler; they’re a servant for their people "

the mans admiration deepened. This stranger spoke with a wisdom that rivaled his own advisors.

“I think,” the man said quietly, “you’d make an extraordinary leader.” giving him a soft smile , it was Armins first time seeing the man smiling and its been over a week since they have met

Armin’s breath hitched. He wasn’t sure if it was the words or the sincerity in the man’s voice or his smile that affected him so deeply and the gaze of the blue eyed man didn't fail to catch on the omegas internal struggle .

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dim glow of candlelight flickered against the walls of Erwin’s study, the scent of parchment and ink thick in the air. He stood by the window, arms folded behind his back, his gaze fixed on the courtyard below. The moon cast silvered light over the garden, illuminating the winding stone paths and delicate blossoms that swayed in the night breeze.

Levi entered without preamble, the soft rustle of papers the only sound as he set down a report on the desk. He regarded Erwin for a moment, noting the way his usually sharp expression seemed... distant.

“You’re distracted,” Levi remarked flatly.

Erwin exhaled through his nose, his fingers twitching slightly against his palm. “I met someone .”

Levi scoffed. “And? You meet people every day.”

“This one was different,” Erwin admitted, his voice lower than usual, as if reluctant to say the words aloud.

Levi’s eyebrow twitched upward. “Different how?”

Erwin turned slightly, enough for Levi to see the thoughtful crease between his brows. “I found him in the library. He was reading—completely absorbed, unaware of anything else around him. He spoke with such ease, such confidence. Intelligent, but not arrogant. Curious, yet not naive. He—” Erwin stopped himself, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. “I don’t know. I suppose I found myself intrigued.”

Levi crossed his arms, leaning a hip against the desk. “You suppose?”

Erwin hummed, turning back to the window. The image of the young man lingered in his mind—golden hair catching the warm glow of candlelight, delicate fingers tracing the spine of a book, lips parting slightly as he read. There had been a moment, however brief, where their eyes had met. Blue like the ocean, steady and clear, unafraid to hold his gaze.

Levi watched him closely, his expression unreadable. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he tilted his head. “You do realize you sound like a lovestruck idiot, right?”

Erwin huffed a quiet laugh. “Hardly.”

Levi pushed off the desk, stepping closer. “You’re getting married in a few days, my King.” The title was edged with meaning. A reminder. A warning. “Shouldn’t your mind be on your future husband instead of some random bookworm in the library?”

The study was quiet now , the faint crackling of the fireplace. as Erwin sat at his desk , but his thoughts were elsewhere , He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. The memory was so vivid for some reason even when it shouldn't be .

The way the young man had looked at him, unguarded yet sharp, completely at ease in his presence. Most people faltered under Erwin’s gaze, but not him. His voice had been soft but sure, his laughter light but sincere. And that mind—quick, insightful, full of wit and curiosity.

A part of Erwin felt foolish for being so affected by a stranger. But another part, the part that he kept buried beneath duty and expectation, ached at the mere thought of never seeing him again , what he was feeling was wrong he shouldn't let his feelings guide him .

Levi’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “are you thinking about him ?.”

Erwin glanced up, only to find his friend already watching him, arms crossed, a knowing look on his face.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Erwin deflected, reaching for the untouched glass of brandy beside him that he has poured when he was in a good mood earlier .

Levi scoffed. “Yeah, sure. You’re sitting here, sighing at the moon like some tragic poet, and you don’t know what I mean?” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Erwin hesitated, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “It’s nothing.”

Levi snorted. “Bullshit.”

A moment of silence stretched between them before Erwin sighed. “I don’t even know his name , I didn't ask him for it "

Levi’s expression twitched, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Wait.” He straightened, realization dawning on him. “You mean you don’t know who he is?”

Erwin frowned. “yes , I do not , and Im not sure if i would want too "

Levi let out a short laugh, equal parts amusement and disbelief. “Oh, this is rich.”

Chapter Text

They met again , how could they not ? their conversations now tinged with an unspoken tension from Erwin's side . levi has left him yesterday with messy thoughts and a heavy heart .
Armin, seated near the window, looked up as Erwin approached.

“You’re late,” Armin said lightly, though his heart leapt at the sight of him.

“Duty called,” Erwin replied, his tone softer than usual maybe it was out of guilt that his tone came out that way ,maybe he felt apologetic towards the young omega or his future spouse.

As they spoke, their words drifted from academic debates to personal philosophies, each revealing glimpses of their hearts without fully baring them.

“Do you believe in fate?” Armin asked suddenly, his fingers tracing the edge of his journal.

Erwin considered the question. “I believe we make our own paths. But... perhaps some meetings are meant to happen.” he said glancing as Armin

Armin’s lips curved into a small smile. “I think I’d like to believe that.” looking back at Erwin

The way he said it made Erwin’s chest tighten. He wanted to reach out, to tell him everything, to ask if he felt it too—the pull, the connection, the impossible longing. But he couldn’t , he didn't want to put the omega in an awkward situation considering that he is to be wed in a week and he did not want to compromise his duty to his kingdom and future wife, he was in agony for the first time in his life he cant make a decision.

Instead, he said, “You seem to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.” clearly reflecting his own internal struggles

Armin looked away, his smile fading. “Perhaps I do. But I don’t know how to set it down.”

Erwin’s voice softened. “Then let someone help you carry it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Armin didn’t reply, but the look in his eyes said everything the look of shame .

Armin was so ever the emotionally intelligent person he is always over analyzing his own feelings and others people emotions as well a job that he wasn't getting paid for a job that he couldn't even quit , as soon as Erwin has given him that cursed book he knew that the seed of his feeling's has grown its roots into his heart and started creeping into his mind as well .
laying awake in his bed was a part of his daily routine now staring at the canopy above him. His mind would replay their conversation, the warmth in Erwin’s voice, the way his presence seemed to steady Armin’s own chaotic thoughts.

I shouldn’t feel this way, he thought. I’m about to marry someone else.

He turned onto his side, clutching the blanket tightly. The man in the library wasn’t his to hold, to dream of. And yet, his heart betrayed him, yearning for more of those fleeting moments.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the realization hit them both their meetings grew both less frequent and more painful. The closer they became, the more guilt gnawed at them

Erwin found himself lingering in the library long after Armin had left, staring at the empty chair and wondering what he was doing he had agreed to this union out of duty, a calculated move to strengthen Eldia’s position. But now, he found himself longing for something far less practical and far more dangerous.

What am I doing? he voiced his thoughts , running a hand through his hair. This isn’t who I am.

And yet, the thought of ending their meetings felt unbearable

Armin, meanwhile, would sit in his chambers, clutching his journal and replaying their conversations in his mind. He felt torn, caught between his duty and the strange, undeniable bond he shared with this man.

That was the price that they both had to pay at the end of the day duty comes first especially if you were a king or a prince .

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3 days before the wedding late at night the library lit only by a few flickering candelabras. The air smelled of aged parchment and warm candle wax. Outside, a storm brewed, lightning flashing through the high-arched windows, illuminating the grand bookshelves for fleeting moments before plunging them back into darkness.

Armin was already seated by the window his usual spot a book in his lap, but his gaze was unfocused, lost in thought. His golden hair shimmered under the soft glow of the lantern beside him, his pale fingers idly trailing over the page without truly reading. His mind was restless.

Erwin entered in his usual manner—calm, steady, composed—but tonight, something about him felt different. He was later than usual, his mind tangled with the weight of the day’s meetings and diplomatic affairs. Yet, the moment he stepped into the library and saw the familiar figure by the window, a sense of relief washed over him.

“You’re late again ” Armin remarked without looking up. His tone was light, teasing, but there was something else beneath it. Something uncertain.

Erwin exhaled a soft chuckle, settling into his usual chair across from him. “I wasn’t aware we had a schedule.”

Armin finally lifted his gaze, and for the first time, Erwin caught something in those ocean-blue eyes—something like hesitation. Like hesitation… and realization.

They had done this dance for weeks now. Meeting in the library as strangers, discussing philosophy, war, governance—matters of the world and the mind, never of themselves. There had always been an unspoken rule: no names, no questions about the life outside these walls.

But tonight felt different.

Tonight, the silence between them carried weight.

Armin closed his book. “You speak of war and strategy like someone who has lived through it,” he mused, studying Erwin closely. “Like someone who bears the weight of an entire nation.”

Erwin hesitated, caught off guard. He had been careful—so careful. Yet, the sharpness in Armin’s gaze told him that the young man before him was not easily deceived.

“And you,” Erwin countered slowly, voice low, as if afraid of shattering the fragile illusion they had built, “carry yourself like someone who was never meant to be caged. Like someone who was raised for something greater than himself.”

Another pause thick air between them.

The storm raged outside, a gust of wind rattling the windows, as if the very world beyond them sensed what was about to unfold.

Armin let out a quiet breath, then leaned forward ever so slightly. His next words came like a whispered confession.

“You’re King Erwin, aren’t you?” not daring to meet his gaze

Lightning flashed.

Erwin inhaled sharply, his body tensing at the sound of his name leaving the lips of the one person who was never supposed to know it. He met Armin’s gaze, searching, uncertain, but he found no malice there—only quiet realization, tinged with something deeper.

He could have denied it. He could have turned away, left the library, refused to return.

But the weight of the crown was too heavy, and he was so tired of pretending.

“…Yes.”

The word escaped like an exhale, like surrender.

Armin’s lips parted slightly, as if truly processing it for the first time. But then, something changed. A flicker of something akin to horror, or perhaps irony, crossed his face.

His breath hitched. His fingers tightened around the fabric of his robes .

Armins conclusion had started with the way Erwin spoke—how he always spoke of war, of responsibility, of the weight of decision-making. He never spoke as a soldier, never as an outsider looking in. He spoke as someone who carried the burden of a kingdom on his shoulders.

And then, the way he moved—confident, but measured. Always aware of his surroundings, like a man used to being watched. Used to being obeyed.

Armin had noticed these things before, but tonight, his mind wove them together into something bigger.

The final thread unraveled when Erwin leaned forward slightly, the candlelight casting sharp shadows across his face. His gaze was heavy, filled with something unspoken.

And then he said it.

“And you carry yourself like someone who was never meant to be caged.”

Armin’s breath caught in his throat.

A chill ran down his spine, not from fear, but from the undeniable, earth-shattering truth that settled in his bones.

No. No, it couldn’t be.

But the pieces had already started falling into place, clicking together so seamlessly that Armin almost laughed at his own foolishness for not seeing it sooner.

His throat tightened. His stomach churned.

Because if Erwin was him—if he was the one Armin had been sent here to marry—then everything changed.

The books they had shared, the ideas they had exchanged, the unspoken connection that had formed between them ,the man who had drawn out his laughter, who had challenged his mind, who had made him feel seen in a way no one ever had before— … It wasn’t between two strangers.

It was between a king and his future queen.

Erwin saw it happen—the moment Armin pieced together the final part of the puzzle.

Armin pushed himself up from his seat so suddenly that his chair scraped against the polished marble floor.

“No,” he whispered. “No, that’s—”

Erwin’s brows furrowed. “ ... you are him right ? Armin ?"

Armin took a step back, as if putting distance between them would undo everything. His chest rose and fell, his mind racing. His own hands trembled.

Armin swallowed hard.

His stomach twisted. His heart pounded so loud it rang in his ears.

And guilt—unshakable, suffocating guilt—began to settle in Erwin’s chest.

He understood now. The way Armin had carried himself, the way the guards always stood a little taller when he passed. How had he not seen it before?

The realization hit him like a crashing wave, drowning him in its truth.

“You…” Erwin exhaled, voice barely above a whisper. “You are my betrothed.”

Armin let out a sharp breath, as if saying it aloud made it real.

And for the first time since they met, they were not strangers in the library.

They were a king and his future queen.

Bound by duty.

Bound by fate.

But in that moment, as the storm outside roared and the candlelight flickered between them, it did not feel like fate.

It felt like a cruel trick played by the god

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Armin barely remembered how he left the library. One moment, he was sitting across from Erwin, his heart pounding so loudly he feared the king might hear it, and the next, he was moving through the dimly lit palace halls, his feet carrying him forward with no clear destination.

His mind was a storm, emotions clashing violently.

His fingers trembled as they clutched the fabric of his robe. I should be relieved. I should be happy.

And he was—somewhere in the chaos of his thoughts, there was a spark of joy. He wasn’t marrying a stranger. He wasn’t being thrown into the unknown with someone who would see him as nothing more than a political tool. He had found something in Erwin—something that made him feel alive.

But then the doubt crept in.

Would Erwin still look at him the same way, now that he knew? Would he still see him as the clever scholar in the library, or would he now see him as just the queen?

Would everything change?

His chest tightened. The palace, vast and grand, suddenly felt suffocating.

Then, a familiar voice pulled him back.

"Oi, where the hell have you been?"

Armin turned to see Eren leaning against the wall outside his chambers, arms crossed, green eyes filled with irritation—though it softened the moment he got a proper look at him.

“…What happened?” Eren asked, his voice quieter now, cautious.

Armin opened his mouth, then shut it. He didn’t even know where to begin. Instead of answering, he walked past Eren into his room. Eren followed without hesitation.

The moment the doors closed, Armin collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his hands.

"Armin," Eren said, more serious now, stepping closer. "Talk to me."

A long silence stretched between them before Armin finally whispered, "It’s him."

Eren frowned. "What?"

Armin lifted his head, eyes wide, almost frantic. "The man I met in the library. The man I’ve been talking to, debating with, laughing with—Eren, it’s him. He’s the king. He’s Erwin."

Eren’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he scoffed. "You're kidding."

"I wish I was."

Eren ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Damn. That’s—” He cut himself off, watching as Armin’s expression shifted. “Hey… why do you look like you're about to have a breakdown? Isn’t this good news?”

Armin exhaled shakily. “It is. It should be. But I—” He hesitated. “I don’t know what to do with this. I’ve grown so fond of him, Eren. And now, everything’s different.”

Eren sat beside him, his usual cocky demeanor fading into something softer. “But is it different?” he asked. “You liked him before you knew he was the king. You liked him for him. And from what I’ve seen, he likes you too. That hasn’t changed.”

Armin swallowed, staring at the floor. “But what if it does?”

Eren let out a deep sigh, then ruffled Armin’s hair—an annoying habit he had never grown out of. “You think too much.”

Armin let out a quiet laugh, though it was laced with exhaustion. “I know.”

Eren nudged him lightly. “Look, just let things play out. If you’re meant to be with this guy, then it won’t matter how you met. It just matters that you did.”

Armin nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.”

Eren smirked. “Of course I am.”

Armin rolled his eyes, but the warmth in his chest lingered.

Meanwhile, in the King’s Study…

Erwin sat in his chair, fingers steepled, staring blankly at the reports before him. He hadn’t turned a single page.

Levi, standing by the window, sipped his tea and watched him with thinly veiled amusement. “You look like someone just told you the world is ending.”

Erwin exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. "I believe I may have just made a terrible mistake."

Levi raised an eyebrow. "Did you accidentally sign away half the kingdom? Because if so, I’d love to see that paperwork."

Erwin shot him a glare, but Levi only smirked.

“Go on then, what’s got your head all twisted?”

Erwin leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “The scholar I met in the library… the one I told you about…”

Levi hummed, unimpressed. “The one you’ve been blabbering about for weeks?”

Erwin closed his eyes briefly. “Yes. Him.”

Levi took another sip of tea, waiting.

Erwin finally looked up. “He’s the one I’m marrying, he is prince Armin Arlert "

Levi blinked. Then, with a flat expression, said, “You’re fucking with me.”

Erwin let out a dry chuckle. “I wish I were.”

Levi stared at him for a long moment, then sighed, shaking his head. “So let me get this straight… You’ve been sitting here, acting like some tragic poet about a guy in the library, and now you’re realizing it’s the same person you’re about to wed?”

Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”

Levi snorted. “ oh ...wow"

Erwin didn’t respond, his thoughts spiraling in a different direction.

Armin had left so abruptly. He had seen the moment realization struck—the widening of his eyes, the way his breath hitched, the slight tremble in his fingers.

And then he was gone.

Erwin’s stomach twisted with something unfamiliar. Was it guilt? what was it ?

Did Armin feel betrayed?

Had he broken something before it even had the chance to form?

Levi, watching the storm in his expression, sighed and leaned against the desk. "Let me guess—you think he’s upset because you didn’t tell him?"

Erwin hesitated, then nodded.

Levi scoffed. “Dumbass, you didn’t know either.”

Erwin exhaled. “And yet, it doesn’t feel any less… complicated.”

Levi tilted his head. “And why is that?”

Silence stretched between them before Erwin finally admitted, “Because I didn’t realize how much I wanted this.”

Levi didn’t say anything at first. When he finally did, his voice was quieter. “Then don’t fuck it up.”

Erwin looked up at him. Levi held his gaze, expression unreadable.

Erwin nodded.

Even if Armin was overwhelmed now, even if he needed time—Erwin would give him that.

But one thing was certain.

He wasn’t going to let this slip away.

Chapter Text

With the revelation of their true identities, neither of them dared to return to the library—but not out of fear. Rather, it was the weight of longing, the unspoken words between them, and the bittersweet ache of stolen glances that kept them away, knowing that if they met again, neither would be able to resist the pull of fate this time around .

so Armin kept hidden in his chambers occupying himself with everything and nothing while Erwin’s Restlessness started given that their weeding is right around the corner .

The grand hall was filled with the scent of freshly cut flowers, their vibrant colors arranged in cascading bouquets along the aisles. Erwin stood at the center of the commotion, his sharp blue eyes scrutinizing every detail.

“No, the lilies go on the left side,” he said firmly to a flustered servant. “And the Peonies need to complement the daisies, not overpower them.”

The head butler Arthur approached cautiously. “Your Majesty, perhaps you should—”

“I’m fine,” Erwin interrupted, his tone clipped. He moved toward the musicians setting up near the altar. “The violins should start softer during the procession. Build up as the bride approaches.”

The conductor nodded, quickly scribbling notes '' of course my king , I deeply apologize" bowing deeply

Erwin inhaled deeply, running a hand through his blond hair. He knew he was being unreasonable—these details weren’t his responsibility. It wasn’t his duty as king, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was his duty as Armin’s future husband… and perhaps, something more? A lover? The thought sent a strange warmth through him, yet the idea of leaving anything to chance made his chest tighten. No—everything must be perfect for Armin.

Levi’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “You’re hovering.” as he was observing how much of a mess his king was

Erwin turned, his expression softening slightly at the sight of his old friend. “It’s my wedding, Levi.”

“And your staff knows that,” Levi said dryly. “But if you keep pacing like that, you’ll wear a hole in the marble.”

Erwin exhaled, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I just... I want it to be perfect.”

Levi’s sharp eyes softened marginally. “It will be. Now, stop micromanaging and take a break. You’ve got a bigger job ahead of you plus we got to prepare you come on "

Erwin nodded reluctantly. “Before I go—here.”

He handed Levi a small velvet box. “Make sure this gets to Armin.” looking sharply into Levies gray eyes

Levi raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask questions. “On it now go ! "

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile Armin sat in a large ornate tub filled with fragrant petals, the warm water lapping gently against his skin. Eren was beside him, fussing over his hair with a mixture of affection and impatience.

“You’re too tense,” Eren said, pouring a rinse over Armin’s golden locks. “Relax. It’s your big day.”

“I’m trying,” Armin said, his voice soft. “It’s just... overwhelming.”

Eren smirked. “You? Overwhelmed? The same person who lectured an entire court of elders into silence?”

Armin laughed lightly, the sound easing some of the tension in his chest. “This is different.”

"Yeah, yeah,"Eren said, pulling Armin out of the bath and wrapping him in a plush robe. "Now sit. We’ve got a lot to do."

Armin let out a soft sigh, his fingers tightening around the edges of the robe. The palace had offered an entire team of attendants—maids trained in the art of perfection—but he had refused them all. He didn’t want careful hands that did not know him, nor rehearsed words of flattery spoken out of obligation. He only needed Eren, the one person who had stood by his side since childhood. The one who knew him not as a queen-to-be, but as Armin.

The room smelled of fresh lavender and jasmine, the oils still clinging to his damp skin from the bath. Eren worked with quiet determination, running his fingers through Armin’s golden hair, carefully drying it before coaxing it into soft, cascading waves. Each lock shimmered under the candlelight, spun gold falling against his bare shoulders. When he moved, it was as if the strands themselves were woven from sunlight.

"You’re too delicate for your own good," Eren muttered, carefully applying a touch of kohl to Armin’s eyes, deepening the natural brilliance of his gaze. '' i swear to the gods if your husband to be doesn't faint upon seeing you down that isle ....I will start throwing hands ''

Armin chuckled, closing his eyes as Eren brushed the faintest hint of color onto his lips and nothing to his cheeks fully knowing that Armins shyness will do the trick , Everything was subtle, effortless—an enhancement rather than a mask. He did not need to be sculpted into beauty. He already was.

Then came the gown. A creation of flowing white silk, weightless as morning mist, adorned with silver embroidery and delicate dantel that caught the light like stars scattered across a midnight sky. The fabric draped over his frame with an elegance that felt almost ethereal, as if he had stepped out of the realm of mortals and into something divine.

When Armin finally turned to the mirror, even Eren—who had never been one for poetry—stilled.

''My gods " His voice held no jest, no teasing. "You look like…" He exhaled, shaking his head as if words failed him. "Like something not meant for this world. Like a goddess ''

And in that moment, with silver and stardust adorning his form, Armin truly did.

Eren stepped back, admiring his work. “You look... ethereal.”

Before Armin could respond, Levi entered, holding the velvet box.

“This is from His Majesty,” Levi said, handing it to Eren with a pointed look.

Eren took it, his curiosity piqued, and passed it to Armin. “Go on, open it.”

Armin’s fingers trembled slightly as he lifted the lid. Inside was a necklace with a stunning blue stone, its surface catching the light like the ocean on a sunny day. A folded note rested beneath it.

He unfolded the paper, his heart racing as he read Erwin’s words: For the one who makes my world brighter, one shade at a time.

Armin’s breath caught, tears pooling in his eyes. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

Eren grinned seeing his best friend so happy “ let’s put it on.”

As the necklace settled around his neck, Armin touched the stone gently, his heart swelling with warmth.

Back in Erwin’s chamber, the air was thick with the scent of polished leather and the faint trace of mahogany teakwood, the signature fragrance of the oils used on his skin. The maids worked in practiced silence, fastening the layers of his ceremonial attire with meticulous care.

He stood tall, broad shoulders carrying the weight of both duty and anticipation. His golden hair, freshly trimmed and swept back, framed his face with a striking elegance—regal yet effortlessly commanding. The sharp angles of his jaw, the piercing blue of his eyes, the quiet intensity in his gaze—everything about him spoke of power, but tonight, there was something softer beneath it. eagerness, perhaps. A quiet, unspoken devotion.

His formal attire was nothing short of magnificent. A white tunic, embroidered with threads of gold, fit snugly against his form, the intricate patterns reflecting the legacy of his lineage. Over it, a long, flowing cloak of midnight blue cascaded down his back, lined with the softest velvet and fastened at the shoulders with ornate golden clasps, each engraved with the crest of his house.

The belt around his waist was crafted from the finest black leather, adorned with an intricate golden buckle—an heirloom passed down through generations. His gloves, made of dark, supple suede, fit perfectly, emphasizing the strength of his hands. And finally, the crown—a symbol of his rule—sat waiting on a nearby velvet cushion, its heavy gold adorned with sapphires that matched the depth of his gaze.

As the last adjustments were made, a maid stepped back and bowed. “You are ready, Your Majesty.”

Erwin exhaled slowly, flexing his fingers before turning to face the mirror. He looked every bit the king he was meant to be—commanding, dignified, untouchable.

And yet, for the first time, none of it mattered. Not the gold, not the weight of his crown, not the admiration in the eyes of those around him.

Tonight, he was not just a king.Tonight, he was a man about to meet the love of his life

“Don’t mess this up,” he muttered to himself.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Levi stepped in, his expression unreadable.

“It’s done,” Levi said simply.

Erwin nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Levi said. Then, with a smirk, he added, “And stop overthinking. He already adores you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Erwin stood at the altar, his broad shoulders squared, his posture flawless, yet the slightest tremor in his fingers betrayed him. He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides, his breathing steady but shallow. He was a king, composed and commanding—but in this moment, his heart pounded like that of a young soldier before his first battle. And this was a battle of a different kind—one he had already surrendered to the moment he laid eyes on Armin.

The grand hall was bathed in golden candlelight, the towering stained-glass windows casting fractured hues of blue and crimson across the marble floor. The altar stood at the highest point, a raised platform adorned with white and gold silk, flanked by tall silver candelabras that flickered with an ethereal glow. Bouquets of pale roses and lilies lined the path leading to it, their fragrance filling the air with a delicate sweetness. Every noble, every esteemed guest sat in breathless silence, their eyes drawn not to the splendor of the cathedral, nor the crowned king waiting at the altar—but to the vision that had just stepped through the towering doors.

The great doors creaked open, revealing Armin.

A hushed gasp rippled through the crowd like a wave, whispers faltering into stunned silence.

Armin stepped forward, and for a moment, it was as if time itself held its breath. His gown, an exquisite masterpiece of flowing white silk, seemed almost weightless as it trailed behind him, the silver embroidery catching the candlelight like woven starlight. The delicate blue stone at his collarbone gleamed—a striking contrast against his porcelain skin, a quiet yet powerful symbol of the man who had gifted it to him. His golden hair framed his face in soft waves, luminous under the light, and his eyes—deep, endless pools of blue—held a quiet strength, a soft determination that only made him all the more breathtaking.

Eren followed just behind him, carrying the train of his gown with a surprising grace. He shot a smirk toward Levi, who stood near the altar, earning a familiar eye roll in return. But even their playful exchange could not steal attention away from Armin. Every eye in the room remained fixed on him, as if he were something divine—too ethereal, too otherworldly to belong to the mortal realm.

But for Erwin, there was no one else in the world.

As Armin approached, their eyes met, and the rest of the grand hall faded away. The weight of their journey—the realization that the stranger in the library was now the person standing before him as his future husband—settled in Erwin’s chest, but this time, it did not bring uncertainty. It brought warmth, the kind that spread through his very being, settling deep into his bones.

His lips parted slightly as his gaze fell to the blue stone necklace. It shimmered against Armin’s skin, catching the flickering candlelight, and something inside him tightened at the sight of it. He had sent it as a quiet offering, a gift meant to adorn the person who had unknowingly stolen his heart. And now, here Armin stood, wearing it for him.

Then, as if only for him, Armin’s lips curved into the faintest smile.

Erwin swallowed against the emotion rising in his throat.

Finally, Armin reached him.

Erwin extended his hand, and Armin did not hesitate. He placed his smaller hand in Erwin’s, their fingers lacing together as if they had done so a thousand times before. The warmth of Armin’s skin against his own was grounding, steadying, and yet it sent a shiver up his spine.

"You're breathtaking," Erwin whispered, his voice so low it was meant for Armin alone.

Armin’s fingers curled slightly around his. "And you’re trembling," he murmured back, amusement twinkling in his gaze.

A quiet, breathless laugh escaped Erwin, his tension unraveling in that instant.

Here, standing at the altar, hand in hand, it was no longer about duty or expectation.

It was them. Just them.

The priest’s voice echoed through the grand hall, solemn and steady as he spoke of unity, strength, and love—love that could bloom even in the most unexpected of places, love that could turn fate itself into something undeniable.

Erwin and Armin stood side by side, their hands slightly brushing against each other anchoring Erwin in this moment, in this reality that no longer felt like duty but something far greater.

The priest turned to Erwin first.

“Do you, King Erwin, vow to cherish, protect, and honor Prince Armin Arlert for all the days of your reign and beyond?”

Erwin exhaled slowly, but his voice was unwavering when he answered. His gaze never left Armin’s.

“I do.”

There was no hesitation, no doubt—only a quiet certainty, an unshakable resolve. Armin was his now, in name and in bond, but more than that, he was someone Erwin wanted to devote himself to, wholly and without reservation.

The priest then turned to Armin.

“And do you, Prince Armin Arlert vow to stand beside King Erwin Smith to bring wisdom and light to his reign, and to honor the bond you now share?”

Armin’s fingers curled slightly around Erwin’s, a silent reassurance, a silent promise. His voice was soft but unyielding, filled with a quiet power that left no room for doubt.

“I do.”

A flicker of emotion passed through Erwin’s chest, something foreign yet so utterly familiar at the same time.

The priest gestured for the ceremonial ribbons. Levi stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he handed them over. The ribbons—woven from the finest silk, dyed in the deep blue of the royal crest and embroidered with golden threads—were carefully wrapped around their joined hands, binding them together in a sacred knot.

As the last loop was secured, Erwin and Armin held each other’s gaze, the weight of this moment settling deep within them. The world outside the palace, the murmurs of the crowd, the hundreds of watchful eyes—all of it faded into nothing.

There was only them.

The priest’s voice rang through the silence.

“You may seal your vows.”

Erwin hesitated, not out of reluctance, but from the sheer weight of the moment. He had never feared battle, had never flinched in the face of war, but this—this was entirely different. This was not duty. This was not expectation. This was something far more intimate, far more terrifying, because it was real.

Armin tilted his head slightly, golden lashes fluttering, a soft pink dusting his cheeks. His lips parted just barely, and then—a smile. Small, shy, but filled with a quiet assurance that sent a slow warmth spreading through Erwin’s chest.

He didn’t think. He couldn’t.

Erwin leaned in, his hand tightening around Armin’s as his lips brushed softly against his.

It was gentle—almost too gentle—filled with unspoken emotions neither of them could yet name. Armin’s breath hitched slightly, his free hand coming up to lightly rest against Erwin’s chest, his fingers curling into the fabric as if to steady himself.

Erwin deepened the kiss just a fraction, lingering for a heartbeat longer than he should have, enough to memorize the softness of Armin’s lips, the warmth of him, the way their breaths mingled in the space between them.

When they finally pulled apart, neither of them moved, their foreheads nearly touching, their breaths uneven. Armin’s eyes were wide, glistening with something unreadable—something that made Erwin’s heart stutter in his chest.

Then, the hall erupted into thunderous applause, cheers echoing against the high walls. But neither of them noticed.

They were too lost in each other.

Chapter Text

The grand ballroom was bathed in the glow of a thousand golden candles, their flickering light reflecting off the ornate chandeliers that hung high above. Music swelled from a grand orchestra, filling the air with melodies fit for a fairytale. The scent of fresh lilies and honeyed wine wove through the halls, mingling with the laughter and chatter of nobles adorned in their finest silks and jewels.

At the center of it all stood Erwin and Armin—King and Queen, husband and husband .

The orchestra began to play after Erwin has given them a swift command a soft, sweeping melody that filled the air like a whispered promise. Erwin turned to Armin, offering his hand.

"Shall we? my queen ''

Armin nodded, slipping his hand into Erwin’s. His touch was warm, grounding '' it would be my pleasure my king ''

As they stepped onto the dance floor, the world around them blurred, fading into nothing but soft candlelight and the quiet hum of the orchestra .

Erwin hesitated, just for a moment, before finally placing his hands on Armin’s waist. It was the first time he had touched him like this it was so intimate under so many watchful eyes .

Armin was delicate beneath his hands .Not fragile, no—Armin was anything but fragile . there was a warmth that Erwin had never felt before. His waist was slender , his form so light it felt as though a single gust of wind might carry him away, is he eating enough he has asked himself that question , and yet, when Erwin’s fingers curled slightly, he could feel the faintest tremor beneath Armin’s skin.

Was it nerves? Anticipation?

Erwin swallowed, his heartbeat unsteady.

Armin lifted his head, gazing up at him with those impossibly blue eyes that held freedom in them his lips parted slightly as if he, too, had forgotten how to breathe.

“You’re shaking,” Armin murmured.

Erwin huffed a quiet laugh. “Am I?”

Armin nodded, and before Erwin could think, small, delicate fingers brushed over the back of his hand. A simple touch, yet it sent a quiet shiver through Erwin’s spine.

Armin’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Hold me properly.”

A request, a permission , his first command as the queen

Erwin exhaled, allowing his grip to settle, firm yet reverent. He held Armin as if he were something precious.

And as the music swelled, their bodies moved in perfect harmony, their first true touch lingering in the space between them—a silent promise of all that was to come.

"You’ve danced before," Armin observed softly, his fingers curling against Erwin’s palm.

"A necessity of court life," Erwin admitted. Then, tilting his head slightly, he murmured, "But I’ve never wanted to dance before now."

Armin’s cheeks flushed, his gaze flickering downward before meeting Erwin’s once more. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Then don’t stop."

Erwin didn’t.

The world around them blurred, reduced to the press of Armin’s hand against his own, the way his lips parted slightly as he spun, the quiet, breathless smile that lingered at the edges of his mouth.

When the song came to an end, Armin was close enough that Erwin could count the golden lashes framing his blue eyes.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, slowly, Erwin lifted Armin’s hand and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his fingers after getting down on one knee .

The room erupted into cheers once more, but neither of them noticed.

They were lost in each other.

the ball room quickly started to fill up with nobles dancing and chatting once more as the main couple sat on the throne watching from afar then One by one, nobles stepped forward, each bringing extravagant gifts—displays of their loyalty, their admiration, their expectations.

Duke Wilhelm, an older noble with a broad frame and graying beard, presented a sword of pure silver, its hilt encrusted with sapphires. "For His Majesty," he said with a bow, "a weapon fit for a warrior king. May it strike true in times of need."

Erwin accepted it with a nod of thanks, but his eyes flickered toward Armin, his fingers tightening around his husband’s hand. If he must wield a blade again, let it be to protect his beloved .

Next was Lady Genevieve, adorned in violet silk, her every movement calculated and precise. She offered Armin an ornate diadem, its delicate filigree shaped like blooming ivy, encrusted with glistening pearls. "A gift for our Queen," she said smoothly, her sharp gaze scanning Armin as if assessing him. "To remind all who gaze upon him that he is not only beautiful, but strong."

Armin met her gaze, back straight, chin lifted. He accepted the diadem with a quiet, "Thank you, Lady Genevieve. Strength, after all, comes in many forms."

Erwin felt pride swell in his chest.

The gifts continued—gold, rare silks, jewels from distant lands, a beautifully bound tome filled with ancient poetry.

Yet none of the lavish gifts, no matter how rare or opulent, could compare to the one that made Armin’s lips part in surprise.

It was from Hanji.

The eccentric scholar strode forward with barely contained energy, their sharp eyes darting over Armin as if memorizing every detail of him. It was their first meeting—Hanji had been away, buried in research, unable to attend the earlier introductions. And yet, there was something in their expression that spoke of familiarity, as though they already knew him.

Stopping before Armin, Hanji placed a hand over their chest in a theatrical bow. “Your Majesty, I must say—meeting you in person is a long-awaited honor.”

Armin blinked, tilting his head. “You know of me?”

Hanji grinned. “Oh, I know you well enough! Erwin never stops talking about you. Your mind, your ideas—he described you as the most brilliant person he’s ever met. That alone intrigued me.” They held out a small wooden box. “So, I thought long and hard about what to give you. Something fitting for a mind like yours.”

Curious, Armin carefully lifted the lid. Inside was—

Journals. Stacks of them, bound in worn leather, the pages filled with sprawling, handwritten notes.

“These,” Hanji declared, grinning wildly, “are the questions I never found the answers to. My unfinished hypotheses, my greatest mysteries. And I’m giving them to you, Armin, because if there’s anyone who can solve them, it’s you.”

Armin’s breath caught. He ran trembling fingers over the pages, eyes skimming over theories and puzzles waiting to be unraveled. His throat tightened as he looked up. “Hanji, I—I don’t know what to say.”

Hanji waved a dismissive hand. “Say you’ll enjoy the challenge! You’re my favorite Queen already.”

Levi scoffed, arms crossed. “He’s your only Queen.” standing next to Erwin guarding him

Erwin chuckled, watching as Armin clutched the journals to his chest, his eyes alight with wonder. Then, softly—so softly that only Erwin could hear—he whispered, ''The most brilliant person he’s ever met?”

Erwin simply smiled, squeezing Armin’s hand in quiet affirmation.

The celebration stretched late into the evening, yet for Erwin, it all felt like a blur. The laughter, the music, the endless congratulations—it all faded into the background. His thoughts, his eyes, his very breath, belonged to one person alone.

Armin.

Seated beside him at the grand table, Armin was a vision of effortless beauty. The candlelight flickered against his skin, casting a golden glow over his delicate features. His gown, so intricately embroidered, shimmered with every graceful movement. But it wasn’t the fine silk or the regal posture that held Erwin captive.

It was the way Armin smiled—soft, genuine, just shy enough to make Erwin’s heart stutter. The way he dipped his head when someone praised him, how his fingers toyed absently with the blue stone necklace Erwin had gifted him, as if it was a part of him now.

“You’re beautiful,” Erwin murmured without thinking.

Armin turned to him, blinking in surprise. “What?”

Erwin leaned in slightly, voice lower, more reverent. “You’re breathtaking. I don’t think I’ve looked away from you all night.”

Armin’s cheeks flushed, his fingers stilling against the necklace. “You’re just saying that because I’m your husband now.”

Erwin chuckled, his lips curling into a fond smile. “No, I’m saying it because it’s the truth. Though, if marriage means I can say it as much as I want, then I might never stop.”

Armin bit his lip, suppressing a shy laugh. “That would be terribly inconvenient.”

“For who?” Erwin tilted his head. “Certainly not for me.” His gaze drifted over Armin again, lingering on the soft waves of his golden hair. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing you like this.”

“Like what?” Armin asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Erwin’s fingers twitched, resisting the urge to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Armin’s ear. “Like something the gods crafted with their own hands.”

Armin exhaled softly, lowering his gaze for just a moment before looking back at him, eyes filled with something Erwin wasn’t sure he deserved—but would spend a lifetime earning.

Before either of them could say another word, Levi’s voice cut through the moment.

“For the love of—Erwin, stop gawking. You look like you’re about to devour him.”

Armin coughed, suddenly very interested in the goblet in front of him, while Erwin simply smirked, unbothered.

“Can you blame me?” he replied smoothly, lifting his glass in Armin’s honor. “After all, I did marry the most beautiful person in both kingdoms.”

Armin peeked at him from beneath golden lashes, his smile small but radiant. And Erwin, utterly lost in him, knew—no matter how many nights passed, no matter how many times he saw Armin in candlelight or beneath the sun—he would never stop looking.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moment Armin stifled a yawn, barely covering it with the back of his hand, Erwin noticed. He always did.

A warm hand rested on Armin’s lower back, steady yet gentle. “Let’s retire for the night,” Erwin murmured, low enough for only him to hear.

Armin blinked up at him, about to protest, but the look in Erwin’s eyes left no room for argument. It wasn’t a command, nor was it mere concern—it was something deeper. A silent promise. *You’ve done enough. Let me take care of you now.*

So, with a final glance at the guests still enjoying the grand celebration, Armin nodded. Erwin stood, offering his hand, and Armin took it without hesitation.

They left the hall together, arm in arm, though Erwin made sure to inform the guests they were welcome to continue the festivities. Few remained, already taking their leave after offering their final well-wishes, but Erwin had stopped caring about anything beyond the soft weight of Armin’s hand in his own.

The walk to their chamber was quiet. The grand halls, once filled with music and laughter, now hummed with only the sound of their footsteps. The golden candlelight flickered against the marble walls, stretching their shadows long beside them.

Armin’s thoughts swirled.

*I’m married.*

The reality of it sank deeper with each step. He had stood at the altar, bound his fate to Erwin’s, spoken the words that made it real. Yet now, walking beside him, away from the eyes of nobility and tradition, it felt different. More intimate.

What happens now?

Armin glanced at Erwin from the corner of his eye. The king walked beside him with effortless confidence, though there was something softer in the way he held Armin’s hand. He had spent the entire evening at his side, watching him, worshiping him with every glance, every whispered compliment.

And now, it was just them.

His heart fluttered, nerves creeping in. Not from fear, no—Erwin had been nothing but patient, nothing but kind. But the weight of what tonight meant settled heavily in his chest.

Is he nervous too?

Armin studied him, searching for any hint of hesitation. And then—he saw it. The way Erwin’s fingers subtly tightened around his, as if grounding himself. The way his lips parted, as if words had almost slipped out before he swallowed them back.

A warmth spread through Armin at the realization. He is nervous.

The thought was oddly comforting. It made Erwin feel less like the untouchable king, the unwavering leader, and more like *his* Erwin. The man who had stolen glances in a library. The man who had looked at him at the altar like he was something divine.

As they neared their chamber, Armin exhaled slowly, allowing himself to relax. Whatever happened next, he knew one thing for certain.

He was not alone in this.

The royal chambers were bathed in a soft, silvery glow, the moonlight spilling through the tall arched windows, casting gentle shadows across the polished marble floors. A faint breeze stirred the sheer silken curtains, making them billow like ghostly whispers. The scent of roses filled the air—fresh petals scattered across the floor, the bed, the small table where a decanter of wine and two crystal glasses awaited.

Golden candlelight flickered from ornate sconces, their glow warm and inviting, complementing the cooler moonlight. The massive bed, dressed in the finest white and gold sheets, looked impossibly soft, its canopy lined with delicate embroidery that shimmered when touched by the light.

Armin hesitated in the doorway, his breath catching at the sight. It was beautiful—too beautiful. Every detail was thoughtful, intimate, intentional. It was as if the room had been transformed into something out of a dream, a place untouched by the world outside these walls.

Erwin was silent beside him, but Armin could feel his gaze—warm, steady, filled with something unspoken. When he finally turned to face him, Erwin was already watching him, blue eyes softer than Armin had ever seen.

"Do you like it?" Erwin’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

Armin swallowed, stepping further inside, his fingers grazing over a velvety red petal resting on the bed. "It’s beautiful," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. He turned, meeting Erwin’s gaze again, something fluttering deep within his chest. "You did all this?"

A faint smile ghosted Erwin’s lips. "I wanted it to be perfect for you."

Something about those words made Armin’s heart stutter. It wasn’t just the grand gestures, the opulence of the room—it was the *care*. The thoughtfulness in every candle placed, every petal scattered, every detail that spoke of Erwin’s desire to make him feel cherished.

Armin took a slow breath, stepping closer. "Erwin..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. But maybe he didn’t need to say anything at all.

Erwin reached out, his fingers barely brushing against Armin’s own before he hesitated, as if waiting for permission. Armin gave it in the form of a smile—small, shy, but filled with quiet affection.

Erwin took his hand then, lifting it slowly, pressing a reverent kiss against his knuckles. His lips lingered for a moment, warm against Armin’s skin. "You leave me speechless," he murmured, his voice like velvet, his breath sending the faintest shiver down Armin’s spine.

The world outside the chamber doors faded into nothing. Here, in the glow of candlelight and moonlight, surrounded by roses and quiet devotion .

Erwin found himself standing at the edge of the room, watching Armin as he removed the last of his jewelry. The blue stone necklace still adorned his neck, catching the faint light and drawing Erwin’s attention.

“You’ve been staring,” Armin said softly, turning to face him.

Erwin blinked, startled out of his thoughts. “I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice low. “You look... divine.”

Armin flushed, a soft pink dusting his cheeks. “You’ve said that more times tonight than I can count.”

“And I’ll say it again,” Erwin murmured, stepping closer. His eyes roamed over Armin’s face, drinking in every detail—the curve of his lips, the delicate arch of his brows, and the way his golden hair framed his features. “You’re breathtaking, my beloved ''

Armin’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in Erwin’s tone. “You’re making me blush.” placing the back of his hands as an act to cool down his warm filled cheek .

“Good,” Erwin said, his lips curving into a rare, gentle smile. He reached out, his hand brushing against Armin’s cheek. “You deserve to be told how extraordinary you are.”

Armin tilted his head into the touch, his blue eyes searching Erwin’s. “You’re far too kind to me.”

“No,” Erwin said, his voice firm. “I’m simply speaking the truth. From the moment I met you in the library, you’ve captivated me. And now, standing here as my partner, I can hardly believe you’re real.”

Armin’s breath hitched, his chest tightening with emotion. “Erwin...”

Before he could finish, Erwin leaned in, his lips capturing Armin’s in a kiss that was both tender and fervent. Armin responded instinctively, his hands resting against Erwin’s chest as he melted into the embrace.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads touched, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.

“You’re more than I ever dreamed,” Erwin whispered, his hands sliding to Armin’s waist.

Armin smiled softly, his fingers trailing up to Erwin’s shoulders. “And you’ve shown me a kindness and warmth I didn’t know existed.”

Erwin’s gaze darkened slightly, his admiration giving way to something deeper. He pulled Armin closer, his larger frame enveloping him.

“Armin,” he murmured, his voice husky, “you’re stunning, brilliant, and mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone sent a shiver down Armin’s spine. He looked up at Erwin, his cheeks flushed and his lips slightly parted.

“I’m yours,” Armin said softly, his voice trembling with emotion. that world all it took for Erwin to let out a low growl of approval, capturing Armin’s lips once more. This kiss was deeper, more urgent, as if Erwin was trying to pour every ounce of his feelings into it.

Their surroundings faded into the background as they lost themselves in each other, their bond solidifying in the intimacy of the moment.

Armin’s breath quickened as Erwin deepened the kiss, his touch never harsh but firm and full of intent.

made Armin’s heart race. He felt Erwin’s hands glide up his back, his fingers brushing against the intricate fabric of the gown that still clung to him.

Breaking the kiss just enough to speak, Erwin murmured, “May I?” His voice was low, a gentle request that sent a thrill through Armin.

“Yes,” Armin whispered, his voice trembling with anticipation.

Erwin’s fingers moved with a surprising delicacy, unfastening the clasps of Armin’s gown and letting the fabric slide from his shoulders. The dress pooled at Armin’s feet, leaving him standing in only the soft undergarments that clung to his lithe frame. The sight made Erwin pause, his breath hitching as he took in every detail.

“You’re exquisite,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand reached out, tracing a path from Armin’s collarbone to his waist.

Armin shivered at the touch, his hands resting against Erwin’s broad chest. “You make me feel beautiful,” he admitted, his cheeks flushed.

“You are,” Erwin replied firmly. “In every way.”

He leaned down, pressing a series of featherlight kisses along Armin’s neck, his lips lingering on the spot where the blue stone necklace rested earning a soft low moan coming from the very lips he has clamed before , The combination of Erwin’s touch and the warmth of his breath against his skin made Armin’s knees feel weak .

Armin tilted his head back, granting Erwin better access as his fingers curled into the fabric of Erwin’s ceremonial robe. “Erwin...” he has said his voice barely audible filled with desire for the man Infront of him

Hearing his name spoken so softly, so intimately, stirred something deep within the king. He pulled back just enough to meet Armin’s gaze, his blue eyes searching for any sign of hesitation. What he saw instead was trust and an unmistakable longing.

Erwin shed his robe, the heavy fabric slipping from his shoulders and pooling at his feet, revealing the broad planes of his body. The candlelight flickered across his sculpted form—strong arms, a defined chest, the ridges of his abdomen carved from years of discipline. His skin was fair, marred only by a few faint scars, each a testament to battles fought and won. The tension in his muscles was evident, the slight flex of his arms and shoulders betraying his restraint.

Armin’s breath hitched. His blue eyes widened, his gaze tracing over every inch of Erwin’s body with quiet reverence, as though memorizing every line, every shadow. His lips parted, an unspoken thought lingering between them, something both innocent and aching with curiosity. He had known Erwin was strong, had felt the power in his grip, the steadiness in his hold—but seeing him like this, bare before him, was something else entirely.

A flush crept up Armin’s neck, but he didn’t look away. If anything, he leaned in slightly, drawn by something he didn’t quite understand yet. His fingers twitched at his sides, an unspoken desire to reach out, to trace the defined lines of his husband’s body.

"You’re..." The words failed him, his throat suddenly dry.

Erwin raised a brow, amusement flickering in his gaze as he watched Armin’s struggle. "Yes?" he prompted, voice deep and laced with warmth.

Armin swallowed, still unable to tear his eyes away. His voice was softer when he finally spoke, edged with something between admiration and hunger.

"You’re... magnificent."

Erwin smiled,'' I should be saying that to you '' a rare softness overtaking his features. He leaned down again, capturing Armin’s lips in another kiss, this one slower but no less passionate. As their bodies pressed together, the warmth between them grew, a comforting heat that chased away any lingering nerves.

Guiding Armin gently, Erwin led him to the large bed draped in silken sheets. He lowered Armin onto the mattress, following him down and ensuring their movements remained unhurried. Every touch, every kiss, was deliberate—a silent promise that this moment was about more than desire.

Armin’s fingers traced patterns along Erwin’s back, marveling at the strength and care in the man who now held him so tenderly. “You’re so gentle,” he said softly, his voice filled with awe.

Erwin pressed a kiss to Armin’s forehead, his voice thick with emotion. “I could never be anything else with you.”

The soft crackle of the fireplace and the rhythmic sound of their breathing were the only sounds that could be heard, Guiding Armin gently and slowly , Erwin led him to the large bed draped in silken sheets.

The bed beneath them dipped as Erwin leaned over Armin, his weight braced on one arm, his free hand tracing the delicate curve of Armin’s jaw.

Armin lay beneath him, golden hair spread across the pillow like spun silk, his eyes deep pools of blue that held trust, wonder, and the faintest trace of nervous anticipation. His fingers skimmed up Erwin’s bare shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin.

"Are you sure?" Erwin whispered after another kiss that they shared his voice a blend of concern and longing. His hand cupped Armin’s face, his thumb gently brushing over his cheekbone, as though memorizing the soft, tender feel of his skin.

Armin’s heart raced in his chest, but his gaze never wavered. "I’m sure," he whispered back, his voice steady, though his pulse fluttered. "With you... I’m sure."

Erwin’s chest tightened at those words, a swell of emotion rising within him that made it hard to breathe. His lips met Armin’s again, slowly, tenderly—each kiss a vow, each touch a promise. Their lips moved in perfect harmony, as if they had always known this rhythm, this dance of intimacy.

As they deepened the kiss, Erwin’s hand drifted down Armin’s side, his touch gentle but firm, feeling the soft warmth of his thigh . Every movement was slow, deliberate—each caress filled with love and care. He paused to take in the moment, savoring the way Armin’s body responded to his touch, how his breath hitched with every tender exploration, he took it all in how his omega looked of a mess without even starting .

Armin’s hands found their way to Erwin’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the skin. He marveled at how this man—strong, capable, yet so soft with him—was now here, making him feel cherished in ways he never imagined possible. He pulled Erwin closer '' more .. give me more .. Alpha '' urging him to close the distance between them, his lips trailing across his jaw, then down to his neck, his kisses a gentle whisper of affection.

Erwin shuddered slightly at the sensation and Armin's words his hand trailing down Armin’s body, fingers ghosting over the smooth expanse of his skin. "You’re so perfect," he murmured, his voice rough, as though the weight of his emotions was just too much to bear.

Armin smiled softly, his own hands guiding Erwin’s face back to his, pressing a kiss to his lips that spoke of longing, of reassurance, of trust. There were no words needed now, just the quiet intimacy between them, the unspoken promises sealed in each kiss, each touch.

Their movements grew more synchronized, more natural, as though they were always meant to fit together like this. Every kiss, every touch, now adding their moans to this sensational symphony was an expression of the deep bond they had formed, the love they had nurtured, and the future they were about to build together.

In the quiet of the chamber, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight and the scent of roses, they found something more precious than passion—they found each other, fully, completely.

The world outside might have continued, but in this room, in this moment, there was only them—two souls intertwined, bound by love, and by the silent promise of forever.

Chapter Text

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of their chamber, casting a soft glow over the room. The warmth of the morning contrasted with the cool, crisp air that lingered outside.

Armin stirred awake, his body warm and relaxed under the heavy blankets. He blinked sleepily, taking in the golden light spilling across the bed. For a moment, he wondered if the events of the previous day had been a dream, but the solid weight of an arm draped over his waist and the soreness of his throat and back quickly reminded him otherwise.

“Good morning,” Erwin’s voice came, low and slightly raspy from sleep.

Armin turned his head to see the king watching him, his hair slightly disheveled giving him a silly look and his gaze soft. “Good morning,” Armin replied, his lips curving into a small smile.

Erwin shifted closer, propping himself up on one elbow. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than I expected,” Armin admitted, his voice still hushed. “Though I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted.”

Erwin chuckled, the sound deep and soothing. “That’s to be expected after such a long night. You were utterly captivating, by the way."

Armin rolled his eyes, though his cheeks flushed with color. “You’ve already told me that about a hundred times.”

“And I’ll say it a hundred more,” Erwin teased lightly.

Armin reached out, his fingers brushing against Erwin’s chest. “You’re surprisingly playful in the mornings.”

“Am I?” Erwin raised an eyebrow, his expression one of feigned innocence.

“Yes,” Armin replied with a soft laugh. “I never would have guessed the stoic King of Eldia would have a sense of humor.”

Erwin smirked. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet, my dear prince .”

“Then tell me,” Armin said softly, his tone laced with curiosity and a teasing warmth. “Besides, I’m no longer a prince; I’m a queen now. Don’t you remember our... activities of yesterday?” His cheeks flushed ever so slightly, but his playful smile lingered.

Erwin leaned closer, his arms wrapping securely around Armin, cradling him effortlessly. His gaze softened, a fond smile curving his lips as he looked at Armin with nothing short of adoration. “Well,” he began, his voice low and intimate, “I wasn’t always this composed, you know.” His lips brushed Armin’s temple, a tender pause before continuing.

“As a boy, I was... reckless,” he admitted, his tone carrying a trace of nostalgia. “Climbing trees, sneaking out of lessons, getting scolded for bringing mud into the halls. I gave my tutors endless headaches.”

Armin chuckled softly, resting his head against Erwin’s chest, the sound vibrating gently against Erwin’s heart. “You? Reckless? I find that hard to believe. I can’t imagine you being anything but perfect,” he murmured, his words carrying an affectionate sincerity.

Erwin tightened his hold just slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to Armin’s hair. “Far from it,” he whispered against the golden strands,

“What about you?” Erwin asked, his voice soft as his fingers traced lazy patterns along Armin’s bare back, marveling at the smoothness of his skin. “Were you always so poised and elegant?”

Armin laughed, the sound warm and bubbling, as if it belonged only to this moment. “Poised? Me? Hardly.” He leaned into Erwin’s touch, a playful glint in his eyes. “I was that kid always buried in books, completely oblivious to the world around me. Eren used to yank me outside, saying I needed to ‘touch grass.’”

“Touch grass?” Erwin repeated, his tone both curious and amused, his lips quirking into a smile as his fingers danced up to Armin’s shoulder blades.

Armin nodded, his grin widening. “It’s his way of saying I was too pale and needed sunlight. Though, in truth, I think he just wanted someone to race with.”

“And?” Erwin prompted, the gentle scrape of his nails against Armin’s back making him shiver slightly. “Did you win?”

“Always,” Armin declared, his chest puffing up slightly. “Eren hates losing, but let’s be real—he never stood a chance against me.”

Erwin chuckled, shaking his head. “I can picture it. You, determined and brilliant, speeding past him while he probably fumed.”

“Oh, he fumed all right,” Armin said with a laugh, turning slightly to rest his chin on Erwin’s chest, looking up at him. “He’d claim I cheated—every time. But it didn’t stop him from challenging me again the next day.”

“Stubborn as ever,” Erwin mused, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as his hand rested at the small of Armin’s back, pulling him just a little closer.

Armin hummed in agreement, his smile softening. “Though I wasn’t very strong back then. Eren had to defend me when the other kids picked fights.”

Erwin’s brow furrowed slightly, his hand pausing in its soothing caress. “They picked fights with you?”

Armin shrugged, his tone light. “I was small, quiet, and usually had my nose in a book. I guess I made an easy target.”

Erwin frowned. “They clearly didn’t know who they were dealing with.”

Armin laughed, reaching up to trace a finger along Erwin’s jaw. “Oh, please. Back then, I was just a scrawny little bookworm. Eren scared them off more times than I can count.”

Erwin leaned down, brushing a kiss against Armin’s forehead. “If I had been there, they wouldn’t have dared,” he murmured, his voice low and protective.

“Well,” Armin said with a teasing smile, “now you’re here, so I guess I’m safe forever.”

Erwin smirked, his hand resuming its soft exploration of Armin’s back. “Safe,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, “and mine.”

Armin’s laughter filled the room again, but this time, it was accompanied by a warmth that spread through both of them, settling in their hearts as the gentle rays of the morning wrapped them in its quiet intimacy.

Armin tilted his head, his expression curious. “What about you? What was your favorite thing to do as a child?”

Erwin’s smile softened. “I loved exploring. My father had a garden, much smaller than the one here, but I spent hours wandering through it. I’d sit by the pond and try to catch fish with my hands.”

Armin laughed again. “Did you ever succeed?”

“Not once,” Erwin admitted with a grin.

Armin reached up, brushing a strand of hair from Erwin’s face. “I think I would’ve liked to see you then.”

“And I would’ve liked to know you,” Erwin replied, his voice warm. “But we have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning sunlight filtered gently through the tall windows reminding them yet again that its time for breakfast , The palace staff had outdone themselves, bringing an array of breakfast delights fit for royalty. Freshly baked croissants, golden and flaky, sat beside a platter of ripe, jewel-toned fruits—strawberries, figs, pomegranates, and slices of honeyed melon. There were soft, creamy cheeses paired with warm rolls, a selection of jams in delicate crystal jars, and a steaming pot of rich, aromatic coffee. Beside it, a silver carafe of spiced tea sent wisps of cinnamon and cardamom into the air.

Erwin had insisted they enjoy the meal privately, a moment of quiet together before they faced the palace bustle again. But as Armin reached for a small roll, Erwin caught his wrist, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“Not so fast,” Erwin said, his voice teasing yet gentle. “Allow me.”

Armin blinked, momentarily confused, before he watched Erwin pick up a slice of the honeyed melon with his fingers. “Erwin,” Armin began, his cheeks coloring faintly, “I can feed myself, you know.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Erwin replied, his tone utterly unbothered as he held the piece of fruit to Armin’s lips. “Humor me, my queen.”

Armin’s blush deepened, but he relented, opening his mouth to take the offered bite. The sweetness of the melon burst on his tongue, and he couldn’t suppress a soft hum of appreciation. Erwin’s eyes softened at the sound, and he reached for a small strawberry next.

As the breakfast continued, they fell into easy conversation, the intimacy of the moment making Armin forget his earlier embarrassment.

“I had no idea you liked melon so much,” Erwin commented, offering another slice to Armin, who accepted it with a small, appreciative smile.

“It’s refreshing,” Armin admitted, his fingers brushing Erwin’s as he reached for a piece of cheese. “But I’m not a fan of figs. They’re too... grainy.”

“Noted,” Erwin said with mock seriousness, setting the figs aside. “What about strawberries?”

“Strawberries are perfect,” Armin said, plucking one from the platter and holding it up to Erwin’s lips. “Your turn.”

Erwin arched a brow but leaned forward to accept the offering. “Sweet,” he said thoughtfully, chewing slowly. “But I think I prefer the melon too.”

Armin laughed, his fingers idly tracing the edge of his plate. “Let me guess—you’re not a jam person either?”

“Not unless it’s paired with cheese,” Erwin admitted, gesturing to the croissants. “But these—these I could eat every day.”

Armin tilted his head, smiling as he reached for a croissant. “Then you should try it with this,” he said, spreading a thin layer of the plum jam over the buttery pastry before offering it to Erwin.

Erwin took a bite, his eyes widening slightly. “Alright,” he said after swallowing. “You might be onto something.”

“I usually am,” Armin teased, leaning back in his chair as Erwin chuckled.

Their conversation shifted from food to childhood breakfasts, Armin recalling simpler meals of bread and honey while Erwin recounted his father’s insistence on hearty porridge. The stories were punctuated by laughter, Erwin occasionally stealing a bite of Armin’s portion and Armin retaliating by swiping the last of Erwin’s tea.

By the time the meal was finished, Armin was leaning against Erwin’s shoulder, their hands loosely entwined. The tray of empty plates and glasses stood as a testament to their shared enjoyment, but the true feast had been the quiet joy of discovering more about each other.

after that lavish meal Erwin suggested a bath.

The adjoining bath chamber was nothing short of a masterpiece, bathed in soft, golden light from the ornate sconces lining the marble walls. The room exuded warmth, with steam curling lazily in the air, carrying the faint, calming scent of lavender and roses. The large, sunken tub dominated the center of the room, carved from polished stone, its edges inlaid with delicate gold filigree. The surface of the water shimmered, scattered with crimson and ivory rose petals, the softest of oils glistening in the glow.

Armin stepped into the bath first, the heat coaxing a contented sigh from his lips as the water enveloped him. The petals brushed lightly against his skin as he sank deeper, the tension from the long night melting away. “This is... heavenly,” he murmured, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes.

Erwin followed, his movements unhurried as he shed the last layer of his robe. Armin’s gaze flickered to him briefly, unable to stop his breath from catching as he took in the sight of his husband. There was an easy strength in Erwin’s every movement, his broad shoulders and sculpted chest bearing a quiet power that somehow still felt tender in moments like these.

Erwin slipped into the water, the heat drawing a low sigh from him. He moved closer, his arm extending to pull Armin gently toward him, erasing any space between them. Their shoulders touched, and the closeness was as comforting as it was electrifying.

The room fell into a serene silence, the occasional drip of water from the gilded faucet the only sound. Armin’s hands rested lightly on his thighs, his skin dewy and glowing under the soft light, his gaze fixed on the petals floating around them.

“This feels... strange,” Armin said quietly, his voice just above a whisper as he glanced at Erwin through lowered lashes.

“How so?” Erwin asked, his tone warm and curious, his thumb gently brushing Armin’s shoulder where it rested.

“Being here, with you like this,” Armin admitted, the faintest blush creeping up his neck. “It’s... easy. I thought it would feel awkward or forced, but it doesn’t. It feels natural.”

Erwin’s lips curved into a soft smile, his hand sliding down to cradle Armin’s, intertwining their fingers beneath the water. “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Armin agreed, his voice barely above a murmur, his heart fluttering at how effortlessly their hands fit together.

Erwin lifted their joined hands slightly, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on the back of Armin’s hand. “Do you know what I find strange?”

Armin tilted his head, his blue eyes meeting Erwin’s. “What?”

“How someone as intelligent, graceful, and poised as you can also be so... endearing,” Erwin said, his voice carrying a mixture of admiration and playfulness.

Armin blinked, his cheeks flushing pink. “Is that your way of calling me adorable?”

“Perhaps,” Erwin teased, his lips curling in a smirk.

A soft laugh bubbled from Armin, his hand slipping free to flick a small splash of water at Erwin. “Careful, Your Majesty. You’re getting far too comfortable.”

Erwin chuckled, the sound low and rich, his free hand moving to cup the side of Armin’s face. He leaned in, his lips brushing delicately against Armin’s temple. “Comfortable with you, my queen, is exactly where I want to be.”

Armin exhaled softly, his head tilting to rest against Erwin’s shoulder. The warmth of the water wrapped around them, but it was the warmth between them that Armin felt most acutely—the growing connection that made him feel safe, cherished, and undeniably seen.

For a while, they stayed like that, sharing quiet touches and murmured words, the petals floating lazily around them. Armin closed his eyes, the steady rhythm of Erwin’s heartbeat beneath his cheek soothing him in ways he hadn’t anticipated. And as Erwin’s fingers gently trailed patterns along his back, Armin thought to himself that he could stay in this moment forever.

Chapter Text

The gentle clink of porcelain echoed softly in the cozy sitting room as the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon. The space was serene, bathed in soft hues of dawn, with the faint scent of fresh dew wafting in through the open window. Armin sat by the sill, a light shawl draped over his shoulders, the morning breeze teasing the edges of his golden hair. A soft smile played on his lips as he watched the kingdom wake below.

Moments later, Erwin entered, a tray in hand. The aroma of freshly brewed tea and warm pastries followed him, filling the room. His robe was slightly undone at the collar, his hair still a little tousled from the early start.

Armin turned, his brow lifting. “You should’ve called for someone else to bring that,” he chided gently, rising to meet him.

“And miss the chance to make sure everything was perfect for you?” Erwin countered, his voice carrying a warm, playful tone. “I supervised the tea myself this morning. Ensured the leaves were steeped just so. The pastries are still warm, too.”

“You?” Armin teased, his lips curving. “The king of Eldia, overseeing tea preparation? I’d pay to have seen that.”

Erwin chuckled, setting the tray down on the small table between their chairs. “Oh, it wasn’t so grand. The cook looked scandalized, though, when I insisted on tasting every brew to find the best one. I think I was shooed out of the kitchen after the third pot.”

Armin laughed, the sound light and airy, a melody Erwin could listen to endlessly. “And here I thought you were still asleep when I slipped out of bed.”

“Hardly,” Erwin said as he poured the tea, his movements steady and practiced. “I woke the moment you did. But I wanted to surprise you.”

Armin returned to his seat, settling back as Erwin handed him a steaming cup. The warm porcelain felt heavenly against his fingers. “Well, you succeeded. Thank you.”

They sipped in companionable silence for a while, the soft rustling of the breeze and the distant chirping of birds filling the space.

“Did you always wake this early?” Armin asked suddenly, his voice curious.

Erwin took a thoughtful sip of his tea. “Not always. When I was younger, I used to sleep late, especially after long nights of reading under candlelight. But as I took on more responsibility... let’s just say I grew accustomed to seeing the sunrise more often than not.”

Armin tilted his head, intrigued. “You read late into the night? What kind of books?”

“Histories, mostly,” Erwin admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Strategies. Old tales of rulers and their choices, good and bad. I suppose I’ve always been drawn to understanding how things work, how decisions ripple through time.”

Armin hummed, his gaze warm as he studied him. “That explains a lot about you. I can almost imagine you as a boy, wide-eyed and absorbed in your books.”

Erwin chuckled. “And you? Always buried in your studies, I imagine.”

“Always,” Armin confessed, grinning. “Though my interests were a little different. I loved maps, the stars, anything that could show me places beyond what I knew but most importantly the ocean ”

“Maps, stars and the ocean ,” Erwin echoed, his voice soft, almost reverent. “And now you’ve become my compass, guiding me in ways I never expected.”

Armin’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, though he didn’t look away. “You have a way with words, don’t you?”

“I only speak the truth,” Erwin said simply, his gaze steady.

The breeze picked up, teasing Armin’s hair, and he shivered slightly, pulling the shawl closer around himself. Erwin noticed immediately, setting down his cup. “You’re cold.”

“I’m fine,” Armin said quickly, though the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed his discomfort.

Erwin stood without hesitation, moving behind him. He slipped his own heavier cloak from his shoulders and draped it over Armin, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary. The weight of the fabric, warm from Erwin’s body, instantly chased away the chill.

“There,” Erwin murmured, his voice low and soothing. “My love shouldn’t suffer in silence.”

Armin glanced up at him, his blue eyes soft and filled with something unspoken. “Thank you, my king.”

Erwin leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to Armin’s temple. “Always.”

Armin reached up, his fingers brushing against Erwin’s hand where it rested on his shoulder. “You spoil me, you know.”

“It’s my right as your husband,” Erwin said, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And my privilege.”

Armin laughed softly, shaking his head. “Then I suppose I should start learning how to spoil you in return.”

Erwin tilted his head, feigning contemplation. “You already do, in ways you don’t even realize.”

The words made Armin’s heart flutter, and he leaned back into the warmth of Erwin’s embrace. As they sat there, wrapped in each other and the quiet peace of the morning, Armin thought that this, too, was a kind of perfection—simple, unhurried, and wholly theirs.

Later that evening, the two found themselves in the study, the warm glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows across the room. A chessboard sat between them, each piece arranged with precision, as though the outcome of the match might decide the fate of nations.

“You seem confident,” Armin teased as he made his opening move, his fingers lingering on the piece for effect. “Are you sure you can handle me?”

Erwin smirked, lounging back in his chair with the ease of a seasoned strategist. “Careful, my dear. Overconfidence is often a downfall.”

“Confidence isn’t overconfidence,” Armin quipped, his blue eyes sparkling. “It’s just... an awareness of my superior intellect.”

Erwin raised an eyebrow, his expression caught between amusement and mock offense. “Superior intellect, is it? Bold words for someone who fell into checkmate three moves ago.”

Armin blinked, startled, and immediately scanned the board, only to realize Erwin was bluffing. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, suppressing a grin as he adjusted his strategy.

The game continued, each move deliberate and calculated, though peppered with playful jabs. “You’re stalling,” Erwin said at one point, leaning forward, his eyes keen.

“Strategizing,” Armin corrected, narrowing his gaze at the board.

“Stalling,” Erwin teased.

“And yet I’m still winning,” Armin shot back, tapping his chin in mock thought.

The match wore on until Armin, too focused on the game, began shifting in his chair, stretching his legs absentmindedly. Beneath the table, his foot accidentally brushed against Erwin’s.

“Careful,” Erwin said with a chuckle. “Are you trying to kick me into surrender?”

Armin smirked but didn’t respond, his attention fixed on the board.

Erwin’s sharp gaze softened as he noticed Armin’s small wince while stretching. Without a word, he rose from his chair and walked around the table.

“What are you doing?” Armin asked suspiciously, glancing up as Erwin knelt in front of him.

“Improving my chances,” Erwin said nonchalantly, lifting Armin’s leg onto his lap.

“Erwin—”

“Shhh,” Erwin interrupted, his large hands already working gentle circles into the muscle of Armin’s calf.

Armin’s protest dissolved into a breathy sigh. “This is cheating,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Is it?” Erwin asked, tilting his head innocently as his fingers found a particularly tense spot.

Armin’s hand hovered over the chessboard as though trying to focus. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“And?” Erwin said with a smirk, his thumbs pressing in just the right way to make Armin melt into the chair.

“It’s working,” Armin admitted, leaning back with a soft groan. “Completely unfair.”

Erwin chuckled, his hands never faltering. “I consider it an equalizer, my love. Besides, I can’t have you all tense when I win.”

“Oh, you’re still losing,” Armin shot back, though the fight in his voice was waning.

“Big words for someone currently at my mercy,” Erwin teased, his fingers drifting slightly higher as his gaze flicked up, warm and teasing.

Armin managed to suppress a giggle as he squirmed under Erwin’s touch. “This feels... suspiciously like bribery.”

“And if it is?” Erwin asked, his lips quirking as he leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss just above Armin’s knee.

Armin froze for a moment, his face now decidedly crimson. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Erwin feigned hurt, though the mirth in his eyes betrayed him. “I’m offering you unparalleled service, and this is the thanks I get?”

Armin rolled his eyes, finally nudging Erwin’s shoulder lightly with his other foot. “Get back to the game, Your Majesty, before I declare myself victor by default.”

With a laugh, Erwin returned to his chair after placing a light kiss on Armin's inner thigh , though the playful glint in his eye lingered. The game resumed, albeit slower, with Armin sneaking glances at Erwin while trying to recover his focus.

When the match finally ended—Armin’s decisive victory clear—Erwin groaned dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “I demand a rematch.”

“Maybe,” Armin said coyly, gathering the pieces back onto the board. “If you promise not to resort to... underhanded tactics next time.”

Erwin smirked, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hand. “No promises. But I will say this—you’re an excellent distraction yourself, my queen.”

Armin couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as warmth filled his chest. “Careful, Erwin. You might start losing on purpose just to keep things interesting.”

“Perhaps,” Erwin replied, his gaze fond. “But only because I enjoy watching you win.”

It was late when Erwin finally returned to their chambers, his broad shoulders drooping with exhaustion, the weight of the day etched into every line of his face. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, its light casting a golden glow over the room. Armin sat curled up on the chaise, a blanket draped over his legs and a book resting in his lap.

“You’re late,” Armin said softly, his voice free of accusation. He closed the book and set it aside, his blue eyes lifting to meet Erwin’s.

Erwin didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he crossed the room silently, his footsteps heavy with fatigue. When he reached Armin, he sank to his knees without a word, resting his head in Armin’s lap as though the weight of holding himself upright was too much.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper. “It’s been... a long day.”

Armin’s heart ached at the sight of him like this—Erwin, who always carried himself with such strength, now leaning on him with unguarded vulnerability. Without hesitation, Armin’s slender fingers found their way into Erwin’s hair, stroking through the golden strands with a soothing rhythm.

“You don’t have to apologize, my love,” Armin said gently, his touch soft and tender.

Erwin’s tense frame began to melt against him, the knots of stress loosening under Armin’s ministrations. He closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale, the sound somewhere between relief and exhaustion.

“Your hands are magic,” Erwin muttered, the corner of his lips tugging into a faint smile.

Armin laughed softly, the sound light and melodic. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” Erwin replied, his voice growing quieter as the fire’s warmth and Armin’s presence wrapped around him like a balm.

As Armin continued stroking his hair, he began to hum a soft tune, one Erwin didn’t recognize but found deeply comforting. The melody seemed to settle the storm in his mind, and his breathing slowed. For a long moment, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and Armin’s gentle song.

Erwin let out a low sigh, his voice barely audible. “You’re too good to me.”

“And you’re too stubborn to let me be anything less,” Armin teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

For a while, they remained like that, the silence between them intimate and profound. But then Erwin stirred, lifting his head slightly to look up at Armin, his blue eyes reflecting the flickering firelight.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, his tone hesitant, as though unsure whether to voice the thought.

“Of course,” Armin said, his fingers still threading through his hair. “You can tell me anything.”

Erwin hesitated for a heartbeat, then shifted, resting his cheek against Armin’s lap as if drawing strength from the contact. “I never had this before. This... feeling. This comfort.” His voice wavered slightly, and Armin’s heart squeezed at the rawness in it.

“What do you mean?” Armin asked softly, his hand pausing for a moment before resuming its soothing strokes.

Erwin closed his eyes, the admission heavy on his tongue. “My mother died giving birth to me. I never knew her. And my father...” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “He loved me, but he wasn’t... warm. He tried his best, but he didn’t know how to show affection. Everything was duty. Discipline. There was never this.”

Armin’s breath hitched, his eyes softening with sorrow for the man before him. He bent down slightly, his lips brushing against Erwin’s temple in a silent gesture of comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Armin whispered.

Erwin shook his head, his voice low and strained. “Don’t be. It’s not your burden to carry. But being here, with you...” He opened his eyes, meeting Armin’s gaze with a vulnerability he rarely showed. “It’s different. You make me feel... whole in a way I didn’t know I needed.”

Armin’s fingers stilled in his hair, his other hand coming to cup Erwin’s cheek. “You deserve this, Erwin. You deserve love and comfort. Always.”

Erwin’s throat worked as he swallowed hard, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For being patient with me. For... being you.”

Armin leaned down, their foreheads touching, the firelight dancing between them. “You’re my husband, Erwin. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Erwin closed his eyes, letting Armin’s words settle over him like a blanket. For the first time in years, the weight on his shoulders felt a little lighter.

And as they sat there, tangled together in the quiet intimacy of their chambers, they both knew they had found something rare and precious—a love that healed wounds they hadn’t even realized were still bleeding.

This was how they spent their days—slowly getting to know each other, healing in the quiet moments they shared. Their days were filled with soft laughter, gentle touches, and a growing sense of comfort in each other’s presence. It was easy to forget the world outside, wrapped up in the small joys of their shared haven.

But as the days wore on, the reality of their responsibilities crept back in. No matter how much they cherished these moments, they were still a king and a queen, bound by the duties that awaited them beyond the safety of their chambers.

They both straightened, setting aside the ease of their private time to step back into their roles. Though they left their sanctuary behind, the warmth of their connection lingered, a quiet reassurance that they would return to it—always.

Armin awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside the window. Erwin was already up, standing by the wardrobe with a cup of tea in his hand.

“Good morning,” Armin greeted, sitting up and stretching.

“Good morning, my love,” Erwin replied, his voice warm. “Today is an important day for you.”

Armin frowned slightly. “Why do I feel like you’re preparing me for battle?”

Erwin chuckled, setting his tea aside and walking over to him. “Because stepping into your role as queen will feel like one at times. But I have no doubt you’ll win over everyone with your brilliance and grace.”

Armin rolled his eyes but smiled. “No pressure, then.”

The day began at a whirlwind pace. Armin found himself immersed in the intricacies of his new responsibilities—reviewing policies, consulting with advisors, and learning the inner workings of the kingdom’s governance. The weight of expectation was palpable, yet Armin took to it with a quiet determination, his intelligence and adaptability quickly silencing those who doubted him.

Despite the challenges, he found moments of reassurance. Eren, ever the loyal friend, was by his side, his presence a steadying anchor amidst the chaos. His wit and humor broke through the tension more than once.

“Honestly, Armin, I think you’re scaring them,” Eren teased as they walked through the palace corridors, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “I caught one of the advisors actually stammering during your meeting.”

Armin laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Good. Maybe that’ll make them take me seriously.”

Eren smirked. “Oh, they’re definitely taking you seriously. I think you’ve officially earned their respect—and maybe a little fear.”

Armin shook his head with a smile but couldn’t deny the quiet pride blooming in his chest. The road ahead was far from easy, but knowing he was making progress, little by little, was enough to keep him going.

As the day drew to a close, Armin found himself reflecting on how much he had accomplished. Though exhausted, he felt a growing sense of confidence in his abilities. His role as queen was challenging, yes, but it was also an opportunity to make a difference—to stand beside Erwin as an equal, a partner in every sense of the word.

And in the back of his mind, he held onto the knowledge that no matter how demanding their duties became, the sanctuary they shared would always be waiting for them, a space where they could simply be Erwin and Armin. That thought alone was enough to keep him moving forward.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The council chambers were alive with tension, the air thick with the weight of unresolved matters. For weeks, Armin had taken an increasingly active role in governance, and it was becoming evident to even the most skeptical advisors that his contributions were both calculated and profound that his presence was not merely ceremonial.

“You’re sure you want to sit through the entirety of today’s agenda?” Erwin asked as he fastened his cloak, his tone a mixture of concern and admiration.

Armin, meticulously adjusting the silver cuffs on his regal blue robe, nodded without hesitation. “Yes. If I’m to share in the burdens of this crown, then I will do so fully.”

Erwin’s gaze softened. “Your resolve is... admirable, Armin. It’s what this kingdom needs.”

A faint blush crept across Armin’s cheeks, but he said nothing, merely giving a small, resolute smile before motioning toward the door. “We shouldn’t keep the council waiting.”

Inside the council chambers, the discussions began almost immediately, the topics ranging from agricultural shortages to territorial disputes at the borders. Armin took his seat beside Erwin at the head of the long oak table, the subtle gleam of the polished wood reflecting the gravity of their roles.

“The proposed increase in the grain tax will ensure the treasury can meet its obligations,” one advisor declared, his voice crisp and unwavering.

Armin’s sharp gaze locked onto the speaker. “And at what cost?” he countered, his tone calm but cutting. “Have we accounted for the projected rise in dissent among the farming communities? The riots in the western provinces last year stemmed from similar measures. Are we prepared to risk another uprising?”

The advisor faltered, the room momentarily silent as the council members exchanged glances.

“If I may, my queen,” an older advisor interjected, his voice tentative, “the treasury’s deficit leaves us little room for alternatives. If not the grain tax, what would you propose?”

Armin leaned forward, his hands clasped on the table. “Instead of taxing the grain, we should incentivize surplus production. By offering modest subsidies or tax reductions to farmers who exceed quotas, we can both increase supply and maintain the stability of our agricultural economy. This approach benefits both the crown and the people without inciting unrest.”

Erwin, silent until now, spoke with the quiet authority that only he could wield. “A wise and balanced approach. Draft the necessary provisions, and present them to us for review by the end of the week.”

As the advisors murmured their agreement, one dared to voice the hesitation many felt. “With respect, Your Majesty, such incentives will require funds we may not currently have. Where do we intend to find the resources?”

Armin met the man’s gaze without flinching. “Through restructuring existing expenditures. The recent audit revealed surplus allocations in military logistics—a prudent adjustment there would free the necessary funds for this program. Additionally, trade reforms are already in motion to boost revenue.”

Erwin’s lips curved into a faint smile, pride evident in his expression. “You’ve anticipated the objections and offered solutions before they could even be raised. Well done.”

The discussions continued, delving into the complexities of border disputes, resource allocations, and trade negotiations. Armin’s keen insights and strategic thinking shone through, his intellect commanding the room in a way that left no doubt about his capability as queen.

When the meeting finally adjourned, Erwin turned to him as the council members filtered out. “You were remarkable today, Armin.”

Armin sighed, exhaustion creeping into his voice, though his expression remained composed. “We’ve only just begun to scratch the surface of what needs to be done.”

Erwin placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, the weight of his touch grounding. “And yet, together, we’ll accomplish it all.”

Their partnership, forged through trust and respect, had begun to solidify into something that neither the council nor the kingdom could ignore—a unified force poised to shape the future of Eldia.

Later that afternoon, after the meetings concluded, they found themselves alone in the study. Armin was poring over documents, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Erwin approached silently, standing behind him and watching for a moment before leaning down.

“You’ve been working too hard,” he murmured, his lips brushing against Armin’s ear.

Armin startled slightly, turning to look up at him. “I’m fine. There’s still so much to—”

Erwin cut him off, cupping his cheek and leaning closer. “Just one kiss,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Armin’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t pull away. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you tolerate me,” Erwin replied, closing the distance between them. His lips brushed against Armin’s, soft and lingering, before he pulled back with a satisfied smile.

Armin blinked up at him, his heart racing. “You’re lucky I love you,” he muttered, turning back to his work in an attempt to hide his flustered expression.

Erwin chuckled, placing a hand on his cheek. “And I’ll never stop being grateful for it.”

Chapter Text

Time flies, they said, and Armin found himself wishing it wouldn’t—wishing he could press pause and linger in the fleeting moments of peace he shared with Erwin. But the palace halls, once alive with laughter and the gentle hum of conversations, had taken on a new tone.

The whispers were subtle at first, but as weeks turned into months, they grew louder, more biting.

“Months have passed, and still no heir?”

“They’re clearly in love, but perhaps the queen isn’t...”

“Maybe there’s something wrong with him. He *does* look delicate, doesn’t he?”

Armin kept his chin high, his steps measured, his expression serene. But every word was a dagger, each one sharper than the last, sinking into his skin until they reached the rawness beneath even though he was the queen yet no role he can take would shield him from their sharp tongues .

He had prepared himself for the burden of the crown, for the long nights of governance and the weight of diplomacy. What he hadn’t prepared for was the cruel, lingering doubt cast over his most intimate bond with Erwin.

evening came , Erwin was held up in a council meeting, leaving Armin alone in their chambers with his thoughts and open wounds . The fire crackled faintly in the hearth, its warmth doing little to chase away the cold tightening around his chest. He stood before the ornate mirror, the reflection staring back at him almost unfamiliar—his golden hair framed his delicate features, but his eyes, usually so bright, seemed dimmer now * am I too delicate as they say ? can I actually give Erwin an heir ?* , Armin didn't want to voice his thoughts out loud cuz what if they become true somehow.

He pressed his hands to his abdomen, the silk of his robe cool against his skin. *Why hasn’t it happened yet* he thought , His fingers curled slightly, as though willing the answer to materialize. *Is it me ? * another terrifying thought surfaced .

His thoughts spiraled, each one darker than the last. Was his body somehow flawed, incapable of giving Erwin the heir the kingdom so desperately wanted? Was he failing not just as a queen, but as a partner?

The door creaked softly, and Armin’s head snapped up, panic flashing in his eyes. Erwin stepped inside, his broad frame casting a shadow over the room. His expression softened the moment he saw Armin standing there, so small and vulnerable against the backdrop of their opulent chamber.

“Darling ” Erwin said gently, closing the door behind him. He crossed the room in a few long strides, his hand cupping Armin’s cheek before the younger man could even find the words to speak. “What’s wrong?”

Armin opened his mouth to respond, but the words stuck in his throat. His composure cracked, a single tear slipping down his cheek before he could stop it. Erwin’s thumb brushed it away as he started to kiss Armin's eyes, his touch achingly tender.

“They’re talking, Erwin,” Armin finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “About me. About... us. And I can’t stop thinking... What if they’re right? What if I—” His voice broke, the weight of his fears spilling out in a single, breathless sob.

Erwin’s jaw tightened as his husbands words struck him as thunder a flash of anger flickering in his eyes—not at Armin, but at the faceless voices that had driven his beloved to this. “They have no right,” he said, his voice low and steady, the kind of tone that could silence an entire room. “None of them. Not to speak of you this way, not to plant these doubts in your mind.”

Armin shook his head, his hands trembling as he clutched at Erwin’s shirt. “But what if it’s true, Erwin? What if there’s something wrong with me? What if I can’t—”

“Stop,” Erwin interrupted firmly, pulling Armin into his arms. The strength of his embrace was unyielding, a barrier against the storm raging in Armin’s mind. “You are not broken, Armin. Do you hear me? You are not failing me, or this kingdom, or anyone else. You are enough—*more* than enough , I do not care for an heir my beloved I only care for you ''

Armin buried his face in Erwin’s chest, his tears soaking into the fabric of his tunic. quite sobs escaping his lips , Erwin’s hand cradled the back of his head, his lips pressing against Armin’s hair in a gesture of quiet devotion it was his first time seeing his mentally strong omega to crack like that it has left him with the desire to destroy them all .

“We will face this together,” Erwin murmured, his voice softening. “Whatever it takes, whatever we need to do—we will face it. And if the whispers continue, I will silence them myself.”

Armin looked up at him, his blue eyes glistening but filled with a fragile hope. “Do you really mean that?”

Erwin’s smile was small but resolute removing some stray golden strands from Armin's face. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”

The day had been unbearably long for both of them, and the weight of omega's fears hung heavy in the air as Armin lay curled on his side of the bed. The canopy above them seemed to press down, oppressive and suffocating, as if mirroring the thoughts swirling in his mind.

Erwin extinguished the final candle on the bedside table, the room plunging into a quiet dimness save for the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains. When he turned back, his heart ached at the sight of Armin—so small, his golden hair spilling over the pillow, his shoulders tense even beneath the heavy blanket.

Erwin slid into bed beside him, the mattress dipping under his weight. Armin didn’t stir, but the way his hand fidgeted with the edge of the blanket betrayed his restless mind.

“Armin,” Erwin called softly, his voice low and comforting, like a gentle tide lapping at the shore.

There was no response at first, just the faintest hitch in Armin’s breathing. Finally, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Erwin frowned, his brows knitting together. He reached out, pulling the blanket down slightly to reveal Armin’s face. “What are you apologizing for?”

“For... being like this,” Armin murmured, his voice fragile. “For worrying about things I shouldn’t. For not being strong enough. for showing you this side of me”

Erwin sighed, the sound deep and laden with affection. Without a word, he shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Armin’s waist and pulling him gently against his chest. His other hand found Armin’s, entwining their fingers together.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Erwin said, his breath warm against Armin’s temple. “You’ve carried so much already. It’s okay to feel this way. It doesn’t make you weak—it makes you human and besides we are mated ...together forever ... I love every part of you , there is nothing that you can do that will drive me away my love ''

Armin let out a shaky breath, his body still tense against Erwin’s. “But the whispers, Erwin... They keep echoing in my head. I can’t stop thinking—what if they’re right? What if—”

“Stop,” Erwin interrupted softly again , pressing a kiss to Armin’s hair. “Don’t let their words poison your heart. They don’t know you. They don’t see what I see.”

Armin shifted slightly, turning to face Erwin. The moonlight illuminated the tears pooling in his blue eyes, and it was all Erwin could do not to pull him even closer.

“And what do you see?” Armin asked, his voice trembling.

“I see someone who is brave,” Erwin said, his voice steady and sure. “Someone who has faced challenges most couldn’t even imagine. Someone who has brought light and hope into my life in ways I never thought possible.” His hand cupped Armin’s cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped free. “You are everything, Armin. And no whispers, no doubts, will ever change that.”

Armin’s lips parted, but no words came. Instead, he leaned into Erwin’s touch, his eyes fluttering closed as the warmth of his husband’s presence began to soothe the storm inside him.

“Just breathe,” Erwin whispered, his fingers trailing through Armin’s hair in slow, calming strokes. “Focus on me. I’m here. Always.”

Little by little, Armin’s body began to relax, the tension melting away under Erwin’s touch. The steady rhythm of Erwin’s heartbeat beneath his ear anchored him, each thump a quiet reminder that he wasn’t alone.

As sleep began to pull him under, Armin’s voice was barely audible. “Thank you, Erwin... for loving me.”

Erwin smiled, his lips brushing against Armin’s forehead in a lingering kiss. “Always, my love. Always.”

And as Armin’s breathing evened out, soft and peaceful, Erwin held him close, vowing silently to protect him—not just from the whispers of the court, but from every shadow that dared to creep into his light.

The morning light filtered through the grand windows of the palace, casting long shadows across the floor as Armin walked briskly down the halls. Despite the warmth of the sunlight, a chill gnawed at him from within. He had barely touched his breakfast, and Erwin had noticed his distraction.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” Erwin had asked earlier, concern lining his features.

Armin had given a soft smile, brushing the question aside. “Just a lot on my mind.”

But that wasn’t the full truth. The whispers he’d tried so hard to ignore had rooted themselves deep within him, and though Erwin’s reassurances had helped the night before, they hadn’t completely silenced his doubts.

By the time Armin reached the imperial infirmary, his decision was made. The idea had lingered in his mind like a shadow ever since one of the noblewomen’s remarks reached his ears days ago: “Perhaps it’s not the king—it could be the queen.” The thought festered, not because he believed it but because he needed certainty. Certainty that there was no fault within him certainty that he isn't failing Erwin.

Armin hesitated at the entrance to the infirmary, his hand hovering near the doorframe. The faint scent of herbs and tinctures wafted out, mingled with the quiet hum of Hanji’s voice speaking to an assistant within.

He almost turned back. Almost. But the memory of those murmurs, the looks cast his way when courtiers thought he wasn’t paying attention, pushed him forward.

Taking a deep breath, Armin stepped inside.

Hanji was hunched over her desk, surrounded by scrolls and jars of strange concoctions. Her hair, as always, was a bit wild, tied back just enough to keep it out of her face. She glanced up at the sound of footsteps, her sharp, curious eyes softening when she saw who it was.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted warmly, setting down a quill. “To what do I owe the pleasure? If you’re here for Erwin, I can assure you he’s perfectly fine. He’s built like a—”

“It’s not about Erwin,” Armin interrupted, his voice hesitant. He looked down, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his tunic. “It’s... about me.”

Hanji’s expression shifted immediately, her keen eyes narrowing with concern. “What’s wrong, my queen? Are you feeling unwell?”

Armin glanced around, ensuring they were alone. Even in the privacy of the infirmary, he felt the weight of secrecy pressing on his shoulders.

“It’s about the whispers,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “People are questioning why I haven’t...” He faltered, the words catching in his throat. “...why I haven’t conceived yet.”

Hanji’s gaze softened further, and she set her work aside completely, gesturing for him to sit. “Armin, you know as well as I do that these things aren’t always so simple. Stress alone can—”

“I need to know,” Armin interrupted again, his voice trembling. His hands gripped the edge of the chair as he sat down, his knuckles white. “I need to know if something’s wrong with me. Please, Hanji. Just check.”

Hanji studied him for a moment, her analytical mind briefly warring with her compassion. Finally, she nodded. “Alright,” she said gently. “But only if you promise me one thing.”

Armin looked up, his blue eyes filled with desperation. “What?”

“That you take it easy after this. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself, Armin. This kingdom is already so fortunate to have you. Don’t let unfounded doubts tear you apart.”

He nodded quickly, though her words only grazed the surface of his anxiety.

The examination was thorough yet gentle, Hanji’s careful demeanor helping to ease some of Armin’s tension. She explained each step of the process, her tone calm and almost clinical, but with an undercurrent of care.

“I know you’re nervous,” Hanji said at one point, glancing up at him as she worked. “But remember, Armin, this is just to ease your mind. Your worth isn’t tied to their expectations. Not to mine, not to theirs, not to anyone’s.”

Armin swallowed hard, nodding. The lump in his throat remained, but her words were like a balm, even if only temporary.

When it was over, Hanji straightened up, her ever-curious eyes now filled with something softer—relief. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Armin,” she said firmly, as if trying to banish the doubts from his mind. “You’re perfectly healthy.”

Armin let out a shaky breath, his hands clutching the sides of the chair as he tried to process her words. “Then why hasn’t it happened?”

Hanji crouched slightly so they were at eye level, her voice kind but firm. “These things aren’t always predictable. Bodies are complex, and there are so many factors—timing, stress, even luck. Give it time. And more importantly, trust yourself. Trust your body. And trust Erwin’s love.”

The mention of Erwin’s unwavering love caused Armin’s chest to tighten, but this time it wasn’t from fear or doubt. It was the memory of Erwin holding him the night before, whispering words of comfort, reminding him that they were in this together.

“Thank you, Hanji,” Armin murmured, standing slowly. His legs felt steadier now, though his mind still churned with thoughts.

As he turned to leave, Hanji called out after him, her voice laced with both humor and sincerity. “And Armin? Don’t forget—you’re allowed to tell people to shove their opinions where the sun doesn’t shine. Politely, of course. you are our queen after all ''

That drew a small, genuine smile from him, the first one he’d managed all morning.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said softly before stepping back into the palace halls.

Though his doubts weren’t entirely gone, there was a flicker of reassurance in his chest now. He would tell Erwin everything tonight, but for now, he allowed himself to breathe a little easier. Hanji’s words lingered in his mind, a quiet reminder that he was enough—whispers or not.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Erwin sat in his study, his face set in a stony mask of determination. The soft glow of the lamp cast long shadows across the stacks of parchment on his desk. Every flicker of the flame seemed to echo the unrest growing within the castle walls. The whispers about Armin had crossed the line, and they needed to be dealt with. Now.

He rose from his chair, pacing to the window and back before calling out, “Bring me Levi.”

Moments later, the door opened silently, and Levi stepped in, his footsteps muffled by the rich carpet. His posture was sharp, his movements deliberate, like a blade unsheathed. “You called, Your Majesty?” he asked, his tone neutral yet attentive.

Erwin gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. “Sit.” Levi complied, though his sharp eyes betrayed curiosity.

Erwin leaned forward, planting his hands on the desk. “The rumors about Armin—they’ve spread too far, too fast. This cannot stand.”

Levi’s eyes flickered, the faintest hint of irritation flashing across his face. “I’ve heard them too,” he admitted. “It’s not just the servants; even some council members have loose tongues ''

Erwin’s jaw clenched , his fist tightened . “I won’t allow this to continue. Not for Armin’s sake, and not for the stability of this kingdom. I need you to act, Levi. Swiftly.”

Levi crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “And by ‘act,’ you mean...?”

“I want the sources rooted out and I don't care if its an elder ” Erwin said, his voice steel. “Find out who started these whispers and make it abundantly clear that this kind of talk will not be tolerated. Spread the word: rumors about the queen’s fertility are treasonous acts.”

Levi’s brow lifted slightly, a ghost of a smirk touching his lips. “You want me to scare them into silence?”

Erwin straightened, his gaze piercing. “I want them to understand the weight of their words. Whether that takes fear, persuasion, or... more permanent measures, I leave to your discretion.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Levi stood, his movements fluid and deliberate. “Fine. I’ll start with the servants and work my way up the chain. Anyone stupid enough to cross me won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“Discretion is key,” Erwin warned. “I don’t want this blowing back on Armin or myself.”

Levi snorted softly. “I don’t need a lecture on subtlety. This isn’t my first cleanup job.” He moved to leave, his cloak swishing behind him, but Erwin’s voice stopped him mid-step.

“Levi.”

The captain turned, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “What?”

Erwin hesitated for a brief moment, his expression softening. “Thank you. This... means more to me than you know.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, his cold exterior seemed to thaw. “I’ll take care of it. Not just for you, but for him. You both deserve better than this.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

--------------

Levi moved through the palace halls like a shadow, his presence barely noticed but undeniably commanding. He started in the servants’ quarters, where whispers were loudest and loyalty was thinnest.

In the kitchens, he leaned against the doorway, watching as the staff jumped at the sight of him. “You,” he barked, pointing to a young maid who froze mid-step, a tray of dishes trembling in her hands. “Heard any interesting gossip lately?”

The girl stammered, her face pale. “N-No, Sir Levi.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Lying to me is a worse mistake than talking about the queen. I’ll ask one more time: who’s been spreading rumors?”

Her eyes darted nervously to an older cook, who immediately tried to step away. Levi’s sharp gaze caught the movement, and in a flash, he was on the man, gripping his collar and slamming him against the wall. “You’ve got one chance to talk,” Levi growled, his voice low and lethal. “Who started it?”

The cook sputtered, his face turning red. “I don’t know! I just repeated what I heard from one of the scullery boys!”

“Names,” Levi demanded. “Now.”

By the time Levi left the kitchens, the air was thick with fear. The scullery boy had been dragged to the guard barracks for further questioning, and Levi had a list of names—several of them pointing to higher-ranking officials in the palace. His next stop was the noble’s quarters.

Later that night, Levi stood before Erwin again, his face impassive but his hands stained with the metaphorical dirt of his work. “It’s done,” he said simply.

Erwin raised an eyebrow. “All of it?” plopping some documents on his desk

Levi nodded. “The servants won’t speak of it again, and the nobles who let their tongues wag... well, let’s just say they’re reconsidering their priorities.”

Erwin leaned back in his chair, a flicker of relief passing through his expression. “Good. And the sources?”

“Dealt with,” Levi replied bluntly. “Some needed a gentle reminder of who they serve. Others... required a firmer hand.”

Erwin didn’t press for details. He trusted Levi’s judgment, and the results spoke for themselves. “Thank you, Levi. Armin doesn’t need to know the extent of this.”

Levi’s smirk returned briefly. “I’d hope not. He’s too kind-hearted for this kind of mess.”

As Levi turned to leave, Erwin called after him. “Levi.”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“Your loyalty is invaluable,” Erwin said simply.

Levi gave a short nod, his eyes softening ever so slightly. “Always.” And with that, he disappeared into the shadows once more, the castle now silent but for the crackling of the fire in Erwin’s study.

The soft glow of morning light seeped through the curtains as Armin stirred, the events of the previous day still weighing heavily on his mind. The rumors, the visit to Hanji, the overwhelming sense of inadequacy—it all lingered, leaving his chest tight with unease.

The door creaked open, and Erwin stepped in, his presence commanding yet gentle. He carried two cups of tea, setting one on the nightstand before sitting beside Armin on the edge of the bed.

“You were still asleep when I woke,” Erwin said softly, brushing his fingers through Armin’s hair. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Armin sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. “I couldn’t sleep much. My thoughts wouldn’t stop racing.”

Erwin’s expression darkened with concern. He set his tea aside and reached for Armin’s hands, holding them firmly. “What's on your mind darling?”

Armin hesitated, his eyes dropping to their intertwined hands. “Yesterday, I went to see Hanji.”

Erwin tilted his head slightly, his concern deepening. “Hanji? Why?”

“I... I asked her to examine me,” Armin confessed, his voice trembling. “I needed to know if something was wrong with me. If I’m the reason why... why we haven’t conceived yet.”

Erwin inhaled sharply, his grip on Armin’s hands tightening just slightly. “Armin, you didn’t need to go through that alone.”

“I had to,” Armin whispered, his voice cracking. “The whispers, Erwin—they’ve been constant. Everywhere I go, I hear them. I thought if I could just know for certain, maybe I could silence them in my own mind.”

“And what did Hanji say?” Erwin asked gently, though there was a faint tension in his jaw.

Armin took a shaky breath. “She said I’m fine. That there’s nothing wrong with me. But I can’t stop feeling , you deserve a family Erwin and I wanted to make sure that I can give you that family .”

“Armin.” Erwin’s voice was firm but warm as he cupped Armin’s face, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You are my family . do you know why I married you? It wasn’t for an heir. It wasn’t because of duty. It was because I saw you, truly saw you. Your brilliance, your heart, your courage. I knew I could never let you go , Those whispers—those vile, thoughtless words—mean nothing. You mean everything.”

Armin blinked back tears, his throat tight. “I just... I don’t want to be the reason people doubt us. Doubt you.”

Erwin exhaled deeply, pulling Armin into his arms. “Let me worry about them. You don’t need to shoulder this alone. I’ll handle it.”

Armin leaned against him, his head resting on Erwin’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” Erwin said, his tone low but resolute. “But for now, rest. I’ll make sure no one speaks of this again.”

The next morning, as Armin walked the palace halls, he immediately noticed the difference. The air felt quieter, heavier, as if the usual hum of whispered conversations had been snuffed out. Servants bowed respectfully, but their gazes no longer lingered, and no hushed voices trailed behind him.

When Armin reached the dining hall, Erwin was already seated, sipping his tea. He looked up, his expression calm but satisfied.

“Erwin,” Armin began cautiously, sitting across from him. “The palace feels... different today.”

“Does it?” Erwin asked innocently, though the faintest smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Armin narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”

Erwin set his tea down, his gaze steady. “I asked Levi to handle it.”

“Handle it?” Armin echoed, his voice rising slightly. “What does that mean?”

“It means the whispers are no more,” Erwin said firmly. “Levi spoke to the council, the staff—everyone. He made it clear that questioning the queen’s fertility, or spreading any rumors about us, is treasonous behavior. Those responsible have been reprimanded.”

“Reprimanded how?” Armin pressed, his chest tightening.

“Nothing drastic,” Erwin reassured him. “Just a reminder of where their loyalties should lie—and what happens if they falter.”

Armin sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Erwin, I don’t want people to fear me. I don’t want anyone to be punished because of me.”

“No one was punished,” Erwin said gently. “But I won’t allow anyone to disrespect you. You are my queen, my partner. Anyone who dares to speak against you is speaking against me—and I will not stand for it.”

Armin looked down at his hands, the weight of Erwin’s words sinking in. “I don’t know how to feel about this.”

“Feel relieved,” Erwin said softly. “Feel safe. That’s all I want for you.”

After a long pause, Armin nodded, a small smile breaking through. “Thank you, my love.”

Erwin reached across the table, taking Armin’s hand in his. “Always, my little pearl.”

they sat in a comfortable silence without any doubts creeping anywhere for this fist time since forever with a small smile on both of their lips

Chapter Text

It took about a week for everything to settle back into place. The palace, once filled with tension and whispers, slowly returned to its usual rhythm. For Armin, the silence felt like an enormous weight lifting off his shoulders. Morning routines became something Armin cherished again. He would wake to find Erwin already sitting by the window, dressed impeccably in his royal attire, sipping his morning tea. Erwin always greeted him with the same warmth that made Armin’s heart flutter—whether it was a soft smile, a gentle kiss on his temple, or a simple, “Good morning, my love.”

Most mornings, Armin would stumble out of bed, his hair a mess, and stretch lazily as Erwin admired him. He could feel his alpha’s gaze on him every time, and it made him blush no matter how many mornings passed. “Stop staring,” he’d mumble, half-shy and half-teasing.

“I can’t help it,” Erwin would reply, his voice full of adoration. “You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

After breakfast, Armin’s personal attendants would arrive to help him get dressed for the day. This was one of the few parts of his routine that Armin *did not* cherish. On one such morning, as the attendants tightened the corset of his elaborate royal attire, Armin let out a dramatic groan.

“I just don’t understand—*how do they expect me to breathe in this?*” he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration. His cheeks puffed slightly in his signature pout, which Erwin found far too endearing.

From across the room, Erwin immediately turned his full attention to his omega. Setting down the documents he was reviewing, he walked over, his expression softening as he approached. Without a word, he placed his hands gently on Armin’s back, his fingers brushing over the tight straps of the corset.

“You have every right to be angry, my love,” Erwin said, his tone apologetic. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this discomfort.” He leaned in, placing a tender kiss on Armin’s pouty lips. “Perhaps I should decree looser corsets for queens,” he teased softly, earning a small laugh from Armin.

“That would be the least you could do,” Armin grumbled, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his frustration. He turned toward the mirror, smoothing out the delicate velvet embroidery of his outfit as Erwin watched him with an awe.

The days began to follow a familiar and reassuring pattern. Armin accompanied Erwin to council meetings, no longer hesitant or unsure of his place. His confidence had grown, and he was becoming an invaluable presence in the room. He would listen intently, his sharp mind catching nuances and contradictions that even seasoned advisors missed. Erwin would often glance at him with a look of pure admiration, silently marveling at the brilliance of his omega.

Armin’s solutions were no longer met with surprise but with respect. The advisors deferred to him naturally, his role as queen now solidified not just in title but in practice. And while the meetings could be grueling, Armin always left them feeling accomplished—knowing he was making a difference alongside Erwin.

For Erwin, seeing Armin regain his smile and the twinkle in his eyes was the greatest reward. He adored watching his beloved thrive, whether it was in the council chambers or during the quiet moments they shared in their chambers. Each night, as they lay in bed, Erwin would hold Armin close, stroking his hair and whispering soft words of affection.

And yet, Erwin wasn’t content to simply let things return to normal. He wanted to show Armin how deeply he appreciated him, how much he valued every step of their journey together. One particular morning, Armin woke to find Erwin already dressed, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he leaned against the edge of the bed.

“Good morning, my love,” Erwin greeted, his deep voice warm and teasing.

Armin rubbed his eyes sleepily, sitting up in bed. “Good morning... You’re already dressed?” He yawned softly. “What’s the occasion?”

Erwin stepped closer, brushing a strand of golden hair from Armin’s face. “Get ready,” he said simply, his voice holding a note of excitement.

“Ready for what?” Armin asked, his brows furrowing as curiosity began to wake him up fully.

“You’ll see,” Erwin replied, leaning down to kiss Armin’s forehead. His tone was light and playful, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that made Armin’s heart skip a beat.

Armin tilted his head, suspicious but intrigued. “Erwin... what are you up to?”

Erwin only smiled, his teasing demeanor unwavering. “Trust me, my love. You’ll enjoy it.” With that, he turned and walked toward the door, leaving Armin even more curious as he hurried to get dressed. Whatever Erwin had planned, Armin knew it was bound to be unforgettable.

The royal carriage rolled smoothly into the bustling streets of the capital, its gold trim gleaming in the sunlight. Crowds gathered at the edges of the cobblestone roads, bowing deeply as the crest of Eldia passed by. Inside, Armin sat perched near the window, his face practically glowing with excitement as he peeked out. It had been far too long since he’d ventured outside the palace walls, and the sights, smells, and sounds of the lively market filled him with wonder.

Erwin sat beside him, his hand resting gently over Armin’s. “You seem eager, my love.”

Armin turned to him, his blue eyes wide with childlike excitement. “It’s all so... alive! I don’t even know where to look.”

Erwin chuckled, his heart swelling at the sight of Armin’s enthusiasm. “Then let’s make today memorable. Wherever your gaze lands, it’s yours.”

The carriage came to a graceful stop outside their first destination, an exclusive jeweler whose shop was renowned across the kingdom. The shop’s façade was adorned with intricate carvings of gold and ivory, signaling its prestige. As the door swung open, The shopkeeper, an older man with a well-kept beard, nearly stumbled over himself as he rushed to bow. “Your Majesties! It is an honor beyond words to have you here.” his voice trembling with both excitement and reverence. “To what do I owe this unparalleled honor?”

Erwin stepped out first, offering his hand to Armin. “We’re here to indulge my queen,” he said simply, his tone firm yet fond.

Inside, the shop sparkled with the brilliance of countless jewels. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds sat in cases like treasures from a dream. Armin wandered slowly, his fingertips brushing over the glass displays. He paused before a set of sapphire earrings and a matching choker, their design delicate yet regal.

“These are beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Erwin didn’t miss a beat. “We’ll take them,” he said, gesturing to the jeweler.

“Of course, Your Majesty! A fine choice!” the man stammered, already moving to box the pieces.

“But Erwin, I don’t need—” Armin began, his cheeks tinged pink.

“You don’t need to say no, my love,” Erwin interrupted gently. “If it brings you even a moment of joy, it’s worth it.”

As they moved through the shop, Armin found himself surrounded by necklaces, rings, bracelets, and earrings—all shimmering in hues that seemed to rival the stars. By the time they left, the royal guards were carrying armfuls of packages, the jeweler’s face flushed with delight at what had likely been the best sale of his career.

Their next stop was a tailor’s shop, its grand entrance flanked by heavy velvet curtains. The tailor a plump woman with sharp eyes, clapped her hands together in delight as they entered. “The king and queen in my humble shop! Please, come in, come in!”

Armin’s cheeks flushed as she whisked him away, his form quickly adorned with tunics of embroidered silk, cloaks lined with fur, and shirts so soft they felt like clouds against his skin. He hesitated over a forest-green robe with golden embroidery, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns.

“You like it,” Erwin said, stepping behind him.

“I do,” Armin admitted, “but I already have so much—”

Erwin smirked, leaning close to his ear. “Not enough, apparently.”

The tailor, sensing an opportunity, clapped her hands. “Your Majesty, may I interest you in something a little... different?” sHe gestured toward a more private section of the shop, where delicate lace and silk lingerie hung in elegant arrangements.

Armin’s face turned scarlet. “I—uh—”

Erwin’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Show us.”

Soon, Armin found himself blushing as he tried on silk robes, lace-trimmed nightshirts, and even a daring sheer piece that left very little to the imagination. Erwin’s approving gaze never wavered, and the tailor, sensing the king’s indulgence, insisted they take every piece that even briefly caught their attention.

“Erwin, this is absurd,” Armin whispered as the assistants packed up nearly half the store.

“Absurd is thinking I’d let you leave without every single thing that makes you look this stunning,” Erwin replied, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“But it’s too much,” Armin protested “I can’t possibly wear all of this.”

Erwin leaned in, his lips just brushing Armin’s ear as he whispered, “Then I’ll wear them all just to see you smile.”

Armin let out a laugh, his cheeks flushed as red as the cloak. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible,” Erwin replied with a wink, prompting a chuckle from the tailor herself. “Take whatever you like,” he said to the assistants. “If the queen even looks at it, it’s coming with us.”

The tailor nearly fainted from joy as the assistants scrambled to gather everything Armin had tried on or admired.

Their next stop was a bookstore. The air inside was thick with the scent of aged paper and ink, and rows upon rows of books stretched toward the ceiling. Armin’s eyes lit up as he wandered between the shelves, fingers brushing over the spines. He stopped at a collection by his favorite author, pulling a volume down carefully.

“You’ve read these before?” Erwin asked, standing beside him.

“Yes, but only a few. I’ve always wanted to finish the series.”

Erwin didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take the entire set,” he told the shopkeeper, a wiry man with spectacles perched on his nose.

“Oh, Your Majesty, you honor us,” the man stammered, bowing so deeply he nearly dropped the book he was holding.

“Erwin, that’s too much!” Armin protested, holding the single book he’d chosen.

“Nonsense,” Erwin said with a smirk. “Books are never too much. Besides, now you’ll have the whole series to read on our quiet evenings.”

Lastly, they stopped at a flower shop, its entrance a riot of colors from bouquets displayed outside. Armin gasped softly, his attention immediately drawn to a delicate blue flower he’d never seen before.

“What is this one called?” he asked the florist, an elderly woman with kind eyes.

“It’s a blue star anemone, Your Majesty,” she said warmly. “Rare, and difficult to cultivate.”

Erwin stepped forward. “We’ll take the entire arrangement.”

“Erwin!” Armin exclaimed, his eyes wide. “You don’t need to buy them all.”

“Of course I do,” Erwin replied, tucking a loose strand of Armin’s hair behind his ear. “You deserve every star in the sky. This is the least I can do.”

By the time they returned to the palace, their carriage was brimming with packages. Books, cloaks, jewelry, flowers—each item chosen with care by Erwin, and every one of them leaving Armin slightly overwhelmed but deeply touched.

As they stepped into their chambers, Armin sighed, a small smile on his lips. “I think you’ve spoiled me enough for one day.”

Erwin chuckled, pulling him close. “Spoiling you is my favorite pastime, my love. But if you insist, I’ll stop—until tomorrow.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Armin settled into a plush chair in his chambers, the sunlight spilling through the tall windows, warming the polished floor and casting a golden glow over the room. The pile of extravagant items Erwin had purchased during their outing was spread across the table, a vibrant display of luxury that made Armin’s cheeks tinge pink every time he glanced at it.

The sound of the door creaking open drew his attention. Eren strolled in, his sharp eyes immediately landing on the treasures. He arched a brow, a teasing smirk already forming on his lips.

“Let me guess,” Eren said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been spoiled again.”

Armin couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “It wasn’t my idea. Erwin wouldn’t take no for an answer. You know how he is.”

Eren walked over, picking up the silver bracelet that gleamed under the sunlight. He turned it in his hand, admiring the intricate design. “This is gorgeous. Did you pick it?”

“I didn’t pick anything,” Armin replied with a small chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I just looked at it, and he insisted.”

Eren grinned as he reached for the velvet cloak draped over the back of a chair. He held it up, letting the rich crimson fabric spill over his arm. “And this? You’re going to look like a prince straight out of a fairytale.”

“Stop teasing me,” Armin said, rolling his eyes and giving Eren a playful nudge.

“I’m not! Honestly, it’s cute,” Eren said with a shrug, folding the cloak neatly and placing it back on the chair. His teasing smirk softened into something more sincere as he sat down across from Armin. “He’s clearly head over heels for you.”

Armin’s cheeks warmed at the comment, and his gaze flickered to the bracelet still in Eren’s hand. “It’s... nice,” he admitted quietly. “To feel this cared for. He makes it easy to be happy.”

Eren smiled, leaning back in his chair. “That’s how it should be.”

Before long, a knock at the door announced Erwin’s departure to attend a council meeting. He placed a quick kiss on Armin’s forehead before leaving, his tall figure disappearing down the hallway. With the room suddenly quiet, Eren stretched out in his chair, casting a glance at the pile of treasures.

“Alright,” Eren said, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s see everything the big guy bought you.”

Armin’s eyes lit up as he reached for the nearest item—a beautifully embroidered tunic in a soft shade of sky blue. “This one was my favorite,” he said, holding it up for Eren to see. “The fabric is so light, and it’s not as restrictive as the royal clothes they usually have me wear.”

Eren ran a hand over the fabric, whistling. “Yeah, I can see why you like it. You’ll probably wear this one the most.”

Armin laughed, picking up another piece—a lace-trimmed robe that made his cheeks flush when he remembered trying it on in the shop. “And then there’s this...”

Eren raised an eyebrow. “That’s not just for lounging, is it?” His grin widened as Armin swatted at him, his face turning pink. “Relax, I’m kidding! Mostly.”

Armin rolled his eyes and set the robe aside, showing Eren a delicate sapphire choker and matching earrings next. “These are so beautiful, but I’m not sure when I’d even wear them.”

Eren shook his head. “Trust me, Erwin’s already planning something fancy just so you’ll have an excuse to wear all of this.”

As they continued to unpack the treasures, Eren’s gaze flickered toward Armin, his teasing expression fading into something more contemplative. He cleared his throat, picking at a thread on his sleeve. “Hey, speaking of Erwin... Have you thought again about, uh, you know... expanding the family ?”

Armin blinked, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I heard about this herbal blend,” Eren began, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s imported from really far away, and they say it’s been used to help... with fertility.” He glanced up, gauging Armin’s reaction. “A lot of people swear by it.”

Armin’s brows knitted together as he processed Eren’s words. “Really? Does it actually work?”

Eren shrugged. “I mean, I’m no expert, but the merchants who sell it make a pretty convincing case. If you’re interested, I could order it for you.”

Armin hesitated, his fingers brushing against the edge of the table. A small spark of hope lit in his chest, though doubt lingered as well. “Do you think... it’s worth trying?”

“Can’t hurt, right?” Eren said, leaning back in his chair. “Worst case, you wasted some gold. Best case... well, you get what you’re hoping for.”

After a moment of quiet consideration, Armin nodded. “Alright. If you can, please order it for me.”

“Done,” Eren said, a reassuring smile on his lips. “I’ll take care of it.”

For the next few weeks, Armin waited with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Every time a messenger arrived at the palace, his heart leapt, only to sink when it wasn’t the blend. He kept himself busy with his usual duties, though the thought lingered at the back of his mind.

Finally, one crisp morning, a small package wrapped in parchment arrived at the palace gates. Armin’s attendant brought it to him with a knowing smile, and his heart raced as he opened it, revealing a collection of dried herbs neatly packed in small satchels.

Now, all that remained was to try it and see what fate had in store.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Armin sat at his desk, carefully unwrapping the small package that had finally arrived. Inside were several satchels of dried herbs, each labeled in elegant handwriting. A folded piece of parchment rested on top. Unfolding it, he read the instructions, his brows furrowing slightly as he murmured them aloud.

“Boil a small handful in water for twenty minutes… let it steep… drink once every evening before bed for at least three weeks...” Armin glanced at the herbs, then back at the parchment. A mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbled in his chest.

The instructions ended with a note: “Best results are achieved when the couple is committed to the process together, emotionally and physically.”

Armin’s cheeks flushed as he reread that part, his mind wandering back to Erwin and their recent outing. The thought of “trying harder” made his stomach flutter, and not just with nerves.

As he turned the parchment over in his hands, lost in thought, the door to their chambers creaked open. Armin looked up to see Erwin enter, freshly bathed, his shirt slightly undone and his hair damp from the steam. He looked every bit the picture of regal confidence, yet his gaze softened the moment it landed on Armin.

“You’re frowning, my little pearl,” Erwin said as he closed the door behind him, his voice warm and laced with concern. “What’s troubling you?”

Armin flushed at the nickname, setting the parchment down on the desk. “Nothing… well, not nothing,” he admitted, fidgeting with his hands. “I’ve just been thinking.”

Erwin crossed the room in a few strides, his tall frame towering over Armin as he gently cupped his chin, tilting his face upward. “Thinking about what?”

Armin hesitated, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he reached for the parchment and handed it to Erwin. “The herbs Eren mentioned arrived today,” he murmured. “And I was reading the instructions...”

Erwin took the parchment, his brows furrowing slightly as he read through the neat script. A small, amused smile tugged at his lips as he finished. “Emotionally and physically committed?” he read aloud, raising an eyebrow as he looked down at Armin.

“Don’t,” Armin groaned, covering his face with his hands.

Erwin chuckled, crouching slightly so their faces were level. Gently, he pried Armin’s hands away from his face, holding them in his own. “I’m not teasing, my love. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Armin sighed, his cheeks still warm. “I was thinking… maybe we should start trying harder. For an heir.”

Erwin’s expression softened, his hands shifting to cradle Armin’s face. “My little pearl,” he began, his voice low and full of affection, “there’s no rush. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” Armin said quickly, his eyes darting to the side '' but still ...I want a child Erwin ..I want us to start a family '' He trailed off, his voice faltering.

Erwin hummed gently, his thumbs brushing over Armin’s cheeks '' I want to start a family with you too my love '' He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Armin’s forehead. “You’ve already given me more than I could have ever hoped for. Your love, your presence, your heart—those are the greatest gifts I could ever receive.”

Armin leaned into the touch, his heart aching with love for the man before him. “But if there’s something I can do, shouldn’t I try? The herbs… they might help.”

Erwin straightened, his lips twitching into a small, teasing smile. “Are these the same herbs that require us to be emotionally and physically committed?”

Armin’s face turned bright red as he nodded. “Yes, but it’s serious, Erwin! Don’t make fun of it.”

“I’m not,” Erwin assured him, though the mischievous glint in his eye betrayed him. He leaned down, his lips brushing against Armin’s ear. “Though I must admit, if we’re trying harder, I think the lingerie from our shopping trip might just tip the scales in our favor.”

Armin gasped, pulling back to swat at his chest. “Erwin! You’re impossible!”

Erwin laughed, catching Armin’s wrist and pressing a kiss to his palm. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave. But in all seriousness, my love, we’ll do this together. Whatever it takes, I’m with you every step of the way.”

“You never can,” Armin muttered, though a small smile tugged at his lips.

Erwin’s laughter softened, and he pulled Armin into his lap, cradling him against his chest. “Alright, no more teasing. Tell me about these herbs. What do we need to do?”

Armin relaxed against him, his voice quieter now. “I’m supposed to make a tea with them every evening for three weeks. And… well, we need to be ‘committed’ to the process.”

“Committed, hmm?” Erwin said thoughtfully, his fingers trailing up and down Armin’s arm. “I suppose that means spending more time together.”

Armin rolled his eyes, though his smile widened. “It means we need to be serious about this. No distractions, no excuses.”

Erwin leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of Armin’s head. “Then we’ll be serious. I’ll brew the tea myself if it makes you happy.”

Armin looked up at him, his heart swelling with affection. “You would ? , but isn't your brewing skills bad ? ''

“For you? Always, they aren't bad ... they are just unpolished ” Erwin replied, his voice full of conviction.

Armin nestled closer, his worries easing as he listened to the steady beat of Erwin’s heart. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he knew they would face them together

Chapter Text

The weeks that followed were filled with moments Armin would always treasure, a careful balance of tenderness and intensity as they embraced the idea of "trying harder" for an heir.

Their nights started slowly, with Erwin always ensuring Armin felt cherished beyond measure. He would take his time, his large hands trailing over Armin's skin as if memorizing every detail, his lips peppering kisses across his collarbone and down to the curve of his shoulder. “My little pearl,” he’d murmur against Armin’s skin, the warmth of his voice wrapping around him like a cocoon, “do you have any idea how much I adore you?”

Armin would melt under his touch, his own hands weaving into Erwin’s golden hair, tugging gently to guide him closer. “Show me,” he whispered one night, his cheeks flushed pink, but his eyes sparkling with affection and trust.

Erwin always began gently. His movements were deliberate, his kisses reverent. He’d pause frequently, cupping Armin’s face to whisper, “Are you alright, my love? Do you need me to stop?” Every time, Armin would shake his head, his lips curving into a soft smile.

But then there were moments when things shifted—moments fueled by Armin’s teasing and Erwin’s unwavering desire for him.

One evening, Armin decided to wear one of the silk pieces Erwin had insisted on buying during their shopping trip. The pale blue fabric clung to his lithe frame, the intricate lace along the edges leaving little to the imagination. He waited for Erwin to return from a council meeting, perched on the edge of their bed with a book in hand, pretending to be oblivious to his own allure.

When Erwin entered the room, his gaze immediately locked on Armin. His steps faltered, and he froze in the doorway, his eyes darkening with an intensity that sent a shiver down Armin’s spine.

“Armin,” Erwin said, his voice low and strained, “what are you doing to me?”

Armin feigned innocence, setting the book down and tilting his head. “What do you mean?” he asked, his tone light and teasing. He stretched slightly, letting the silk shift against his skin, revealing more of the pale flesh underneath.

Erwin’s jaw tightened, and in an instant, he was across the room, towering over Armin. “You know exactly what I mean,” he murmured, his hands finding Armin’s waist and pulling him up against his chest.

Armin giggled, wrapping his arms around Erwin’s neck. “I thought you might like it,” he admitted, his voice soft.

“Like it?” Erwin repeated, his lips brushing against Armin’s ear. “I’m completely undone, my little pearl. You drive me mad.”

That night, Erwin’s usual restraint crumbled, though his gentleness never wavered. His hands roamed with urgency, his kisses deeper, hungrier. Armin clung to him, his laughter turning to breathless gasps as Erwin poured every ounce of his affection into their shared moments.

But even in those heated moments, Erwin never lost his focus on Armin’s comfort. Between whispered promises and passionate kisses, he would pause to brush stray locks of hair from Armin’s face, his blue eyes searching Armin’s for any sign of hesitation. “Tell me if it’s too much, my love,” he would say, his voice soft yet commanding.

“It’s never too much,” Armin assured him, his own hands trailing over Erwin’s broad shoulders. “Not when it’s you.”

The following mornings were filled with playful exchanges, Armin often teasing Erwin about how far his composure had slipped. “You were so serious about being gentle,” he remarked one day as they shared breakfast.

Erwin smirked, reaching across the table to take Armin’s hand. “And then you decided to wear that infernal piece of silk. What did you expect me to do?”

Armin laughed, his cheeks tinged pink. “I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Well, you got it,” Erwin said, his tone teasing but his eyes full of love. “Though I’m starting to think you enjoy tormenting me, my little pearl.”

“Maybe a little,” Armin admitted, his laughter filling the room.

Despite the teasing and the passion, their shared goal remained ever-present in their minds. Each night, they brewed the herbal tea together, taking it as part of their routine. And while Armin hoped the herbs would help, he knew deep down that it was the love they shared—the trust, the connection—that would truly make a difference.

And in those quiet moments, as Erwin held him close and called him “my little pearl,” Armin felt an unshakable certainty that whatever the future held, they would face it together.

---

The sun rose bringing sunshine and and warmth , but there was a heaviness in the air that neither the vibrant gardens nor the bustling staff could dispel. Erwin and Armin stood together in their chambers, the reality of their parting weighing heavily between them. Erwin’s uniform was crisp, his sword sheathed at his side, but his usually confident expression was softened by worry.

“Must you go?” Armin asked quietly, his hands gripping the front of Erwin’s coat as if anchoring him in place.

Erwin cupped Armin’s face, his thumb brushing the soft skin of his cheek. “My little pearl, I wouldn’t leave if it weren’t absolutely necessary. The reports from the border are troubling, and I must ensure the safety of our people.”

Armin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You’ve only just returned from the last campaign. Do they not realize how much they ask of you?”

Erwin smiled faintly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to Armin’s forehead. “It is my duty, Armin. But I promise you, I will return as quickly as I can. You’ll barely have time to miss me.”

“I miss you already,” Armin whispered, his voice breaking.

Erwin pulled him into a firm embrace, holding him as if he could transfer all his strength into Armin’s slender frame. “I will think of you every moment, my love. You are the reason I fight, the reason I return.”

Their goodbye lingered, filled with soft kisses and whispers of love. When the moment finally came for Erwin to leave, Armin stood on the balcony, watching as the royal carriage disappeared down the long road leading from the palace gates. The ache in his chest grew heavier with each passing second, but he forced himself to smile, whispering to the empty air, “Come back to me, Erwin.”

The first few days after Erwin’s departure were uneventful, though the silence in their chambers was deafening. Armin busied himself with correspondence, meetings, and strolls through the gardens, hoping to fill the void Erwin had left behind.

But then, the changes began.

It started innocently enough. One evening, as the maids brought in his dinner, the aroma of roasted meat and spices turned Armin’s stomach. He waved the plate away, claiming he wasn’t hungry , he brushed it off as maybe it was just anxiety from staying away from his mate for too long .

The next morning, however, the nausea was unavoidable it has hit him as a harsh slap . As Armin sat at the breakfast table, the smell of fresh pastries and eggs made his stomach churn violently. He excused himself hastily running to the bathroom barely making before retching he couldn't cash his breath each wave of nausea was stronger than the last .

“Your Majesty!” one of the maids cried, rushing to his side. “Are you unwell?” , she said her voice filled concern as he held his hair and brushing some strands that were stuck to his damped forehead

“I... I’m fine,” Armin said weakly, wiping his mouth with a trembling hand. “It must be something I ate yesterday.”

'' But you barely ate yesterday your majesty , maybe we should call for a doc-''

'' I said I'm fine !" Armin interrupted ..as he slowly dragged his body to his bed finding comfort in the sheets that is filled with Erwin's scent

But the episodes didn’t stop. Every day, the nausea grew worse. Certain smells, once comforting, now made him gag. His appetite dwindled, and he found himself barely able to eat more than a few bites of soup or fruit.

The palace staff quickly became alarmed, fussing over him at every turn. The royal physician was summoned, but despite his examinations, he could find no cause for Armin’s illness.

“It’s likely just a passing ailment, Your Majesty,” the physician said, though his furrowed brow suggested otherwise. “Rest and stay hydrated. It should resolve itself in a few days.”

But days turned into weeks, and Armin’s condition showed no signs of improvement. His once rosy complexion grew pale, and dark circles formed beneath his eyes.

Eren was the first to voice what everyone else was thinking he approached Armin one day “Armin, this isn’t normal. Let me send for Erwin , he can help you ”

“No!” Armin said sharply, his usually gentle voice uncharacteristically firm. “He’s dealing with matters at the border. I won’t distract him with this.”

“But you’re getting worse,” Eren argued, his green eyes filled with concern. “He’d want to know.”

“I said no, Eren,” Armin replied, his tone softening. “I’ll be fine. I just need time , the physicians said it will pass''

'' What physicians these people are airheads ...ughhh why did Erwin had to take Hanji with him '' Eren's hand moved in every single direction emphasizing his frustration

Eren didn’t press the matter further seeing how tired Armin is getting from their conversation , but his unease only grew asa couple of days passed. Watching his friend suffer in silence was unbearable.

One evening, as Armin lay in bed, pale and trembling after another bout of nausea, Eren made a decision. He slipped out of the chambers and sought out Levi.

“This is bad, Levi,” Eren said, his voice low but urgent. “Armin’s not eating, he’s getting weaker by the day, and he refuses to let us call Erwin or Hanji. We have to do something.”

Levi’s sharp eyes narrowed. “So you want me to go against Armin’s wishes and call the king? and four eyes ”

“Yes,” Eren said firmly. “Armin will be furious, but I’d rather have him angry than...” He trailed off, swallowing hard.

Levi studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. I’ll send a message tonight. But if Armin finds out, I’m throwing you under the carriage.”

Eren managed a weak smile. “Fair enough.”

---

When the message reached Erwin, he wasted no time. He left the borders at once, riding through the night with a small escort. His heart pounded with a mix of fear and urgency, the thought of Armin suffering alone driving him forward.

Back at the palace, Armin was unaware of what was unfolding. He sat by the window in his chambers, staring out at the gardens as he sipped ginger tea. The quiet knock at the door startled him, and he turned just as Erwin stepped inside.

“Erwin?” Armin gasped, nearly spilling his tea.

Erwin’s blue eyes swept over him, taking in the pale complexion and fragile frame. Without a word, he crossed the room and pulled Armin into his arms.

“My soul ” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “ I came as fast as I could Why didn’t you tell me you were unwell?”

Armin clung to him, tears spilling down his cheeks hiding his face in Erwin's chest . “I didn’t want to worry you. You have so much to deal with already.”

Erwin pulled back just enough to cup Armin’s face, his gaze intense. “Nothing is more important than you. Do you understand me? Nothing.” he hugged him tighter

“I’m sorry,” Armin whispered, his voice trembling.

Erwin pressed a kiss on top of Armin's head then his lips. “Don’t apologize. Just promise me you’ll never hide something like this again.”

Armin nodded, his heart swelling with love and relief. For the first time in weeks, he felt truly safe.

Here’s an extended, dramatic version that captures the shock, joy, and overwhelming emotions of the moment:

---

Erwin paced the length of their chambers, his jaw set and his hands clenched tightly behind his back. His heart hadn’t stopped racing since his return. Though Armin insisted he felt “fine” now that Erwin was home, the difference in Armin's scent impossible to ignore. Erwin wasn’t one to take chances when it came to Armin’s well-being.

Without hesitation, he had summoned Hanji, the imperial physician and their most trusted advisor, to examine Armin thoroughly. Despite Armin’s protests that it wasn’t necessary, Erwin’s tone had left no room for argument.

“You can scold me later, my love,” he said firmly, brushing a kiss to Armin’s temple as he settled him on the bed. “For now, humor me.”

Armin sighed but didn’t fight him. He lay quietly, his fingers playing nervously with the edge of the blanket as Hanji began their examination.

Hanji hummed softly as they worked, their usual playful demeanor replaced by quiet focus. They asked a few questions, their brows furrowing slightly as Armin described his symptoms.

“How long has this been happening?” Hanji asked, their hands gently pressing along Armin’s abdomen.

“About three weeks,” Armin replied, his voice soft. “It started with nausea, then vomiting. Certain smells make it worse. I thought it was a stomach bug.”

“And you’ve been feeling more tired than usual?” Hanji asked, their sharp eyes flicking to Erwin, who stood nearby, watching like a hawk.

“Yes,” Armin admitted, glancing nervously at Erwin. “But it’s not that bad, really. I—”

Hanji held up a hand, silencing him. They leaned closer, their expression shifting from curiosity to something unreadable.

Erwin took a step forward, his voice low but commanding. “What is it, Hanji? What’s wrong?”

Hanji straightened, their eyes wide with something between awe and disbelief. “Nothing’s wrong,” they said slowly, their gaze flicking between Erwin and Armin. “But... this is unexpected.”

Armin sat up slightly, his heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

Hanji hesitated for only a moment before a wide grin spread across their face. “Armin, you’re pregnant.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Armin’s lips parted, his mind struggling to process the words. Pregnant?

Erwin, who had been standing as still as a statue, suddenly moved, his knees hitting the floor beside the bed as he took Armin’s hands in his own. “Say that again,” he demanded, his voice hoarse. “Are you certain?”

Hanji nodded, their grin turning mischievous. “Oh, I’m certain. All the symptoms fit. And after my examination—well, there’s no doubt about it. You’re going to be parents.”

Armin’s hands trembled in Erwin’s grasp, his wide blue eyes locking onto Erwin’s. “Erwin...” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“My little pearl,” Erwin said softly, his own eyes shimmering with emotion. “You’re carrying our child.”

A sob escaped Armin as he leaned forward, burying his face in Erwin’s chest. “I didn’t think... I wasn’t sure this would ever happen,” he choked out, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Erwin wrapped his arms around him, holding him as tightly as he dared. His heart swelled with so many emotions—joy, relief, awe—that he thought it might burst. “You’ve given me the greatest gift, Armin. I don’t have the words... I love you more than anything in this world.”

Hanji, ever the observer, cleared their throat, though their eyes were suspiciously shiny. “Well, I’d say congratulations are in order. But,” they added, their tone turning serious, “we’ll need to make some changes to ensure both Armin and the baby stay healthy. Rest, proper nutrition, and regular checkups are a must.”

Erwin nodded firmly. “He’ll have the best care possible. Whatever he needs, it will be done.”

Armin pulled back slightly, looking up at Erwin with a watery smile. “I can’t believe this is real.”

Erwin cupped his face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Believe it, my love. We’re going to be parents.”

Hanji clapped their hands, breaking the emotional moment. “Well, I’ll leave you two to celebrate. But remember, Armin, no overexerting yourself. I’ll check in regularly.”

As Hanji left the room, Armin and Erwin remained locked in each other’s embrace, the weight of the news settling over them like a warm, comforting blanket.

“I wish you didn’t have to go to the borders,” Armin whispered, his fingers clutching Erwin’s shirt.

Erwin’s brows furrowed. “Armin, I’m not going anywhere. Not now.”

“But the kingdom—”

“The kingdom can wait,” Erwin interrupted, his voice firm. “Nothing is more important than you and our child.”

Armin smiled through his tears, leaning into Erwin’s touch. For the first time in weeks, he felt a spark of hope and excitement for the future—a future that now held the promise of a family.

And as Erwin held him close, whispering words of love and reassurance, Armin knew he would never face this journey alone.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The news of Queen Armin’s pregnancy swept through the palace like a wave of sunshine, bringing an air of excitement that was impossible to contain. Servants hummed cheerful tunes as they worked, their smiles brighter than usual, while courtiers exchanged gleeful whispers and congratulated each other as though they were all part of the royal family. The announcement didn’t stay within the palace walls for long—soon, every corner of Eldia echoed with the joyous tidings.

The royal council gathered in the grand hall, which seemed to glow brighter than usual with golden sunlight streaming through the windows. Advisors, nobles, and regional representatives waited with bated breath, their faces alight with anticipation.

When Erwin and Armin entered hand in hand, the entire room rose to their feet in thunderous applause. The sound of cheers filled the chamber, and several nobles even clapped each other on the back in unrestrained excitement.

“Your Majesties,” began one of the senior advisors, bowing so deeply he nearly toppled forward, “this is a most joyous day for the kingdom! An heir to the throne ensures our future prosperity and solidifies the strength of Eldia for generations to come!”

Armin blushed faintly, his hands resting gently over the soft fabric of his robes. He inclined his head graciously, overwhelmed by the court’s unrestrained enthusiasm. But he couldn’t help but notice how a few of the older council members glanced toward his stomach, their eager expressions almost comical.

Sensing Armin’s slight discomfort, Erwin stepped forward, his authoritative presence washing over the room like a protective barrier. “We are grateful for your good wishes,” he said, his deep voice steady and firm, “but let me be clear: my Queen’s health and happiness are paramount. There will be no pressure, no undue expectations. We will do things on our own time.”

The hall fell silent for a brief moment before a chorus of agreements filled the air. “Of course, Your Majesty!” came one reply, followed by others echoing the sentiment.

Armin glanced up at Erwin, his heart swelling with gratitude. The slight squeeze Erwin gave his hand reassured him that they were in this together, as always.

The joy even spread far beyond the palace walls. In the capital, bells rang out from every tower, their bright chimes echoing through the streets. Crowds gathered in the main square, throwing colorful flower petals into the air as they cheered and danced. Musicians played lively tunes on their lutes and violins, filling the city with a festive atmosphere.

Bakers crafted intricate pastries shaped like crowns and tiny cradles, offering them to anyone who passed by. Florists sold bouquets of blue and white flowers—symbols of hope and new beginnings—while street performers reenacted the announcement of the royal pregnancy with comical flair, making children squeal with laughter.

From the balcony of the palace, Armin watched the scene unfold below. The city was alive with color and energy, and the people’s love and happiness were almost palpable. His hand unconsciously drifted to rest over his stomach, and a soft, contented smile tugged at his lips.

“They adore you,” Erwin said, stepping beside him. His arm slipped around Armin’s waist, drawing him close.

“They adore *us,*” Armin replied, leaning his head against Erwin’s broad shoulder. “And this child will bring them so much hope and joy. It’s humbling to think about.”

Erwin pressed a kiss to Armin’s hair, his gaze fixed on the revelry below. “Our child will grow up surrounded by love,” he said softly. “From us, from the people, from all of Eldia. They’ll be a symbol of everything we’ve worked so hard to build together.”

Armin sighed happily, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he murmured.

Erwin’s smile grew as he tightened his embrace. “No, my little pearl. I’m the lucky one.”

As the festivities continued below, the two of them stayed there on the balcony, basking in the warmth of the sunlight and the joy of their people. It was a day of celebration, a day of promise—a day that would be remembered in Eldia’s history for years to come.

Chapter Text

Armin’s pregnancy began to show its effects almost immediately, and the changes it brought were as overwhelming as they were transformative , morning sickness became an unwelcome yet constant companion, visiting at the break of dawn and leaving Armin drained ,Some mornings, Erwin would awaken to the sound of Armin retching in the adjoining bathroom, his heart sinking. Without hesitation, he’d rise and join him, holding Armin’s golden hair back and whispering soothing words as Armin clung to the basin.

“Erwin!” Armin’s voice rang out weakly from the bathroom, the sound laced with desperation.

Erwin was already at his side, having followed him into the bathroom the moment he noticed Armin turning pale earlier. Armin was hunched over a basin, trembling slightly as his body fought another wave of nausea.

“My love ” Erwin murmured, kneeling beside him and steadying him with a firm but gentle hand on his back. His other hand moved to hold the basin steady. “Breathe, love. Deep breaths.”

Armin groaned as the nausea subsided, leaning back into Erwin’s chest. His golden hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed. “I can’t do this anymore,” he whimpered dramatically, covering his face with one hand.

Erwin’s heart ached at the sight of his usually vibrant husband reduced to this state. He helped Armin to his feet carefully and guided him back to their bed, tucking pillows behind him for support before sitting beside him.

“You’re stronger than you realize, my love,” Erwin said, brushing Armin’s hair back with tender fingers. “You’ve been so brave through all of this.”

“Strong?” Armin shot him a glare, his lips trembling as if he were about to cry again. “I just cried because I dropped a spoon earlier, Erwin. A *spoon.* And now I feel like my insides are staging a rebellion. How is that strong?”

Erwin couldn’t help but chuckle softly, his large hand cupping Armin’s flushed cheek. “Even at your most dramatic,” he said, his voice warm and full of adoration, “you’re still the most beautiful and strong person I’ve ever seen.”

Armin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, though his cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. “Flattery will not save you today,” he muttered, though his lips twitched upward against his will.

Erwin leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to Armin’s forehead. “It’s not flattery, my little pearl. It’s the truth.”

Armin sighed, his frustration melting away as he sank further into Erwin’s steady presence. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“That’s my job,” Erwin replied with a smile, wrapping an arm around Armin and pulling him close. “Now, let me call for something light for you to eat. Perhaps some tea and dry bread?”

Armin wrinkled his nose. “If I so much as smell something off, I’ll be back at that basin before you can say ‘tea.’”

Erwin chuckled again, the sound deep and soothing. “Noted. I’ll have the kitchen prepare something mild and bring it up myself. For now, just rest. You’ve already conquered another morning of this.”

Armin let out a soft laugh, curling into Erwin’s side. “Fine. But only because you’re the one spoiling me.”

“Always,” Erwin whispered, holding him close and stroking his back soothingly. “Always.”

-------------------------------------------------------

By the time Armin’s belly began to grow, the changes in his body were undeniable. His feet swelled painfully, his energy waned by mid-afternoon, and his appetite became wildly unpredictable.

One afternoon, Erwin entered their chambers to find Armin sprawled on the couch, his feet propped up on a stack of cushions. His golden hair was slightly disheveled, and he was staring forlornly at a platter of freshly baked pastries resting on the low table before him.

Erwin immediately noticed the redness and puffiness of Armin’s feet, peeking out from beneath the hem of his soft, flowing robe. His heart twisted at the sight, knowing how much discomfort Armin had been enduring. Setting his papers aside, he approached and sat down beside him, carefully lifting Armin’s swollen feet onto his lap.

“What’s wrong love ?” Erwin asked softly, his large hands already beginning to massage Armin’s tender soles.

Armin let out a long, dramatic sigh, gesturing at the platter with one hand. “They’re not warm enough.”

Erwin blinked, glancing at the pastries, then back at Armin’s pout. “Would you like me to have them reheated?”

“No,” Armin replied, his tone full of tragic finality. “It’s too late. The moment is ruined.”

Erwin bit back a smile, though his blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “My poor, suffering queen,” he murmured, his thumbs kneading carefully into the arches of Armin’s feet. “How can I possibly make this right?”

Armin’s pout softened as he peeked up at Erwin, his sapphire eyes glimmering mischievously. “You could fetch me some of those honeyed almonds from the kitchens. You know, the ones you *conveniently* forgot to bring me last time.”

Erwin chuckled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of Armin’s rounded belly. His voice was tender as he replied, “For you, anything.”

As he straightened, his gaze lingered on Armin’s form. He couldn’t help but notice the way his robe clung to the gentle curve of his chest, which had become fuller and more sensitive over the past few weeks. Armin winced slightly as he adjusted himself, his arms crossing protectively over his torso.

“Is it still tender?” Erwin asked, his voice filled with concern.

Armin nodded, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “It’s like everything hurts lately,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “My feet, my back, my—” He hesitated, lowering his gaze. “Even my chest. Sometimes it’s unbearable.”

Erwin’s expression softened, and he shifted closer. Gently, he placed a hand on Armin’s arm, urging him to meet his gaze. “Let me help,” he said softly.

Before Armin could protest, Erwin’s hands left his feet and moved to massage his shoulders, his touch firm yet soothing. “You’re carrying so much, my pearl,” Erwin murmured, his voice deep and filled with admiration. “You’re amazing.”

Armin closed his eyes, leaning back into Erwin’s touch as the tension in his body began to melt away. “I don’t feel amazing,” he whispered. “I feel… heavy. And sore. And emotional over the *stupidest* things.”

Erwin leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Armin’s temple. “You’re amazing to me. Always.”

Armin tilted his head, his lips curving into a small, shy smile. “Even when I cry over pastries?”

Erwin chuckled, his hands now moving in slow, deliberate circles along Armin’s upper back. “Especially then. You’re growing our child, Armin. Everything you feel matters to me.”

Armin’s hand instinctively moved to rest over Erwin’s, which had settled on his shoulder. “you always have a response ” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Erwin smiled, brushing his lips against Armin’s golden hair. “I guess so ”

As Armin rested against him, his swollen feet forgotten for the moment, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. No matter the challenges, he knew Erwin would always be by his side, his unwavering support and love carrying them through.

----------------------------------------------------------

One evening, Erwin returned to their chambers to an unusual sight—Armin was sitting on the floor, surrounded by an explosion of fabric swatches, sobbing uncontrollably. His golden hair was slightly disheveled, and his cheeks were streaked with tears.

“Armin?” Erwin called, his voice laced with alarm as he quickly crossed the room. “ Are you hurt?” why are you crying ?

Armin turned to him, clutching two pieces of fabric in each hand like they were lifelines. His blue eyes, red-rimmed from crying, brimmed with fresh tears. “I *can’t decide* which one matches the nursery curtains better!”

Erwin froze, staring at his distraught husband and the rainbow sea of fabric surrounding him. Relief mixed with confusion. “The… nursery curtains?” he repeated, kneeling beside Armin.

“Yes!” Armin wailed, thrusting the two swatches toward him. “This one is a softer shade of ivory, but this one has a nicer texture. What if I pick the wrong one, and the baby hates their nursery?!” His voice cracked, and he dissolved into another round of tears.

Erwin bit back a laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly as he fought to maintain a straight face. Gently, he pried the fabric swatches from Armin’s trembling hands and set them aside. Pulling Armin into a firm yet tender embrace, he spoke soothingly, “My love, the baby won’t care about the curtains. I promise.”

Armin sniffled loudly, his voice muffled against Erwin’s shoulder. “But what if they do? What if they look at their nursery and think, ‘Wow, my parents couldn’t even pick matching fabric’? What if they grow up resenting me for this?”

Erwin couldn’t hold back his chuckle any longer. “I think that’s a bit of a stretch, my little pearl.”

Armin pulled back just enough to glare at him, his pout deepening. “It’s not funny, Erwin! This is important!”

“You’re right,” Erwin said solemnly, though his lips twitched with suppressed humor. He picked up the two swatches and held them up side by side, pretending to study them with the seriousness of a military strategy. “Hmm… yes, this is a tough decision. Perhaps we should call a council meeting?”

“Don’t you dare,” Armin grumbled, crossing his arms and trying to look stern, though the corners of his lips betrayed a small twitch of amusement.

Erwin grinned, leaning forward to kiss Armin’s temple. “How about this: we use both fabrics? One for the curtains, and one for the crib. That way, the baby will grow up knowing their parents were incredibly stylish and resourceful.”

Armin blinked, his tears slowing as he considered the idea. “That… might work,” he admitted, his voice still wobbly.

Erwin cupped Armin’s face, wiping away the lingering tears with his thumbs. “See? Problem solved. And if the baby grows up and hates their nursery, I’ll take full responsibility and build them a new one. Deal?”

Armin finally let out a soft laugh, leaning into Erwin’s touch. “Deal.”

As Erwin helped Armin up and began tidying the fabric swatches, he couldn’t resist adding, “Although, between you and me, I’m pretty sure they’ll inherit your impeccable taste. They’ll love it no matter what.”

Armin rolled his eyes but smiled, swatting Erwin playfully on the arm. “Flatterer.”

“Always,” Erwin said, wrapping an arm around Armin’s waist and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Now, how about we go get you something sweet to eat? You’ve had a busy day of making life-changing decisions.”

Armin laughed, leaning against him as they left the chaos of the nursery debate behind. “Only if you promise to help me pick out crib sheets next.”

“Of course,” Erwin replied, his voice warm with love. “ And seeing you cry over wood next time I wouldn’t miss it for the world '' that resulted with a small slap coming from Armin and landing on Erwin's shoulder

-----------------------------------------------------------

The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of their chambers, casting a golden glow over the room. Armin stood by the mirror as two maids gently helped him into his gown. The fabric, soft and flowing, was adjusted over his growing belly as the maids fussed over the fit.

As one of them smoothed the material over his hips, Armin caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His gaze lingered, taking in the roundness of his belly, the curve of his arms, the faint stretch marks peeking just above the fabric. His breath hitched as an overwhelming wave of emotion surged within him.

“I... I look so different,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but the maids paused, exchanging uncertain glances.

“Your Majesty,” one of them said hesitantly, “you’re glowing. Truly.” " Yes your majesty '' another one confirming what the other maid had said

Armin forced a smile, though his hands came to rest on his belly as his eyes continued to scan his reflection. “It doesn’t feel like that. I feel... big. And clumsy. Not the queen I was before.”

Behind him, the door creaked open, and Erwin entered quietly. He froze at the sight before him, watching as Armin’s head dropped slightly, his shoulders trembling.

“Leave us,” Erwin said firmly, his voice calm yet commanding.

The maids curtsied quickly, murmuring their respects as they exited the room, leaving the two alone.

Erwin approached slowly, his footsteps soft against the floor. “Armin,” he called gently, his deep voice filled with concern.

Armin startled slightly, glancing at him through the mirror. “Oh... Erwin. I didn’t see you come in.” He looked away quickly, as though ashamed to be caught in such a vulnerable moment.

Erwin came to stand behind him, his hands resting lightly on Armin’s shoulders. “talk to me darling ”

Armin hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. “It’s nothing. I just... I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

Erwin’s brow furrowed as he turned Armin gently to face him. “What do you mean?”

Armin bit his lip, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I look in the mirror, and I barely recognize myself. My face is rounder, my body is different... I feel big and marked and... not beautiful.” His voice cracked on the last words, and he quickly looked down, ashamed of his confession.

Erwin’s heart ached as he cupped Armin’s face, tilting it upward so their eyes met. “Armin, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Armin did, his blue eyes filled with uncertainty.

Erwin frowned, his heart twisting at the vulnerability in Armin's eyes . Without a word he gently turned Armin away from the mirror and toward him. His hands cupped Armin’s face, his thumbs brushing over his cheeks with tender care. “Armin,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion, “you are breathtaking.”

Armin’s eyes darted to the side, his doubt still evident. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

“I’m not,” Erwin said firmly, tilting Armin’s chin so their eyes met. “You’re carrying our child—a gift I never thought I’d have. Every part of you is a miracle to me. Every change, every mark, is a testament to the life we’ve created together.”

Armin blinked, tears welling up despite himself. “But... I don’t feel like myself I don't feel strong . I don’t feel like the person you fell in love with , I'm losing who I was .” Armin’s lip trembled as he shook his head.

Erwin’s expression softened further, his blue eyes shining with love. “Armin, I fell in love with your heart, your mind, your soul. Those things haven’t changed—they’ve only grown more beautiful. And as for your body...” He trailed off, his hands sliding down to rest gently on Armin’s waist.

Erwin smiled softly, his thumbs brushing away a tear that slid down Armin’s cheek. “You’re not losing anything, my love. You’re growing. You’re becoming someone even more extraordinary.”

Before Armin could respond, Erwin knelt before him “Let me show you how I see you'' . Armin gasped softly, his hands instinctively resting on Erwin’s broad shoulders.

Erwin's his large hands steadying Armin as he leaned down. Armin gasped softly, feeling the warmth of Erwin’s breath against his skin.

Erwin’s fingers traced the stretch marks on Armin’s hips, his touch reverent. “These marks,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to one, “are proof of your strength. Proof of the love we’ve shared and the life we’re bringing into this world.”

Another kiss, softer than the first, landed on a silvery line along Armin’s side. “Every inch of you tells a story, Armin. And I love every part of it.”

Armin’s hands trembled as they found their way into Erwin’s hair, his breath hitching at the raw emotion in his husband’s words. “You really mean that?”

Erwin looked up at him, still on his knees, his eyes unwavering. “With all my heart.” He kissed Armin’s belly, his lips lingering as he whispered, “I love you, my little pearl. And I love the precious life you’re carrying.”

“Erwin...” he whispered, his voice trembling.

Erwin looked up at him, his blue eyes unwavering. “Armin, every part of you is perfect to me. Every change, every mark, is a part of our journey together. I love you now more than ever before.”

Tears spilled freely down Armin’s cheeks as he reached out, cupping Erwin’s face with trembling hands. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

Erwin smiled, his hands resting on Armin’s waist as he rose to his feet. “Because I see you, Armin. Truly see you. And I’ll spend every day reminding you of how incredible you are.”

Armin let out a soft laugh, despite the tears. “I don’t deserve you.”

Erwin leaned down, brushing his lips tenderly against Armin’s. “You deserve the world, my little pearl. And I’ll give you everything I have.”

They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the morning light casting a golden glow around them. For the first time in days, Armin felt a sense of peace settle over him, held firmly in the warmth of Erwin’s love.

---------------------------------------------------------

The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across their chamber. Erwin was fast asleep, his breathing steady and deep, when he felt a persistent poke at his shoulder.

“Erwin,” Armin’s voice whispered urgently in the dark.

Erwin groaned, cracking one eye open. “What is it, my love?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“I had a dream about peach tarts,” Armin said, sitting upright in bed with an almost ethereal glow in the dim light.

Erwin blinked, trying to process the statement. “And what exactly would you like me to do about that? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I want one,” Armin said, his tone matter-of-fact, as if the answer was obvious.

Erwin stared at him for a moment, then let out a long sigh, rubbing his face. “Armin, it’s past midnight. The kitchens are closed.”

Armin huffed, crossing his arms over his growing belly. “You don’t understand. I *need* a peach tart. The baby wants it.”

Erwin’s lips twitched at the excuse, but he knew better than to argue. He sighed deeply, throwing the covers off as he sat up. “Very well. I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re the best,” Armin said, already flopping back onto the pillows with a contented smile.

Erwin dressed quickly and left their chambers, heading straight for the kitchens. The halls were quiet, the only sound his footsteps echoing softly against the stone floors. When he reached the kitchen, he found it dark and empty, as expected.

Knowing he couldn’t disappoint Armin, Erwin did the unthinkable: he marched to the servants’ quarters and knocked firmly on the cook’s door.

The elderly cook answered groggily, rubbing his eyes. “Your Majesty? Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” Erwin said without hesitation. “The queen desires peach tarts. Now.”

The cook blinked, stunned into silence, before letting out a resigned sigh. “Of course, Your Majesty. Let me gather my things.”

Minutes later, the kitchen was alive with activity as the cook bustled about, grumbling under his breath about royal cravings and unreasonable hours. Erwin stayed nearby, arms crossed, making sure everything was prepared to perfection.

When the tarts were finally done, warm and golden, Erwin carried a plate of them back to their chambers.

Armin was still awake, propped up on pillows and clearly waiting. His eyes lit up when he saw the plate. “You actually did it?”

Erwin set the plate on the bedside table, sitting beside him with a fond smile. “Of course. I’d wake the entire castle if it meant making you happy.”

Armin picked up a tart, taking a bite and letting out a blissful hum. “These are perfect. Thank you, my love.”

Erwin chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from Armin’s face. “Anything for my spoiled queen.”

Armin leaned over, kissing his cheek. “You really are the best.”

As Armin happily munched on the tarts, Erwin leaned back against the headboard, watching him with a soft smile. Despite the late hour and his own exhaustion, there was nowhere else he’d rather be than here, indulging every whim of the love of his life.

-------------------------------------------------

Armin was lounging in the sitting room, one hand absently stroking his growing belly while the other flipped through a book about child-rearing. He’d spent the morning poring over ideas for the nursery, his heart fluttering with excitement as he imagined their little one in the space he’d so lovingly planned.

Across the room, Erwin sat at his desk, his brows furrowed in concentration as he reviewed reports and signed official documents. The scratching of his pen was the only sound filling the room.

“Erwin,” Armin called softly, his voice melodic and hopeful.

“Hm?” Erwin responded absently, not looking up.

“Do you think we should paint the nursery a light blue or a soft cream?” Armin asked, tilting his head as he held up a page with swatches of both colors.

Erwin didn’t glance away from his work. “Whatever you think is fine, Armin,” he said dismissively, his tone flat.

Armin froze, the page trembling slightly in his hands. He blinked, staring at his husband as though he’d just been slapped. “Whatever I think is fine?” he repeated, his voice soft but laced with disbelief.

“Yes,” Erwin said, still not meeting his gaze. “You have good taste, my love.”

The casual response felt like a dagger to Armin’s heart. His chest tightened, and his lip quivered as a lump rose in his throat. “So you don’t care at all?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Erwin finally looked up, confusion etched on his face. “What? No, that’s not what I meant,” he said, his tone caught somewhere between surprise and concern.

But it was too late. Tears brimmed in Armin’s eyes, and his face crumpled as all the emotions he’d been holding in came rushing to the surface. He clutched the book to his chest, as if it could shield him from the hurt. “I’ve been planning this nursery for *weeks*, Erwin!” he cried, his voice trembling with anguish. “Every detail, every color, every little thing—I’ve thought about it constantly. And you don’t even *care*! I’m just a fat, emotional mess to you, aren’t I?”

Erwin’s eyes widened in alarm. “Armin, that’s not true at all—”

Armin cut him off with a sharp sob, his tears spilling over as he stood, clutching his belly protectively. “You don’t care about me or the baby! I’m just an afterthought to you!”

“Armin!” Erwin was on his feet in an instant, his hands reaching out to comfort him, but Armin pulled back sharply, his blue eyes blazing with pain.

“You’re a horrible husband!” Armin wailed, his voice breaking as fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the room as fast as his swollen feet would allow, his sobs echoing down the hallway.

Erwin stood frozen, his hand still outstretched. The door slammed behind Armin, leaving the room eerily silent. Slowly, Erwin sank back into his chair, his face buried in his hands.

For a long moment, Erwin sat there in stunned silence, the weight of his actions crashing over him. He replayed the conversation in his mind, his heart sinking deeper with each passing second. How had he been so thoughtless? He groaned, raking a hand through his hair, his guilt gnawing at him like a persistent wound.

“Levi!” Erwin barked suddenly, his voice echoing through the halls as he summoned his ever-loyal captain.

Moments later, Levi appeared, his sharp eyes taking in Erwin’s frazzled state. He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “What’s the crisis now?”

Erwin sighed, slumping slightly in his chair. “I upset Armin.”

Levi snorted, leaning against the doorframe. “Again? What did you do this time?”

“I—” Erwin hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I dismissed him while he was trying to talk to me about the nursery. He’s furious. And... he cried. A lot.”

Levi’s smirk grew, his tone dry. “So you ignored the queen while he’s emotional, hormonal, and pregnant? I’m amazed you’re still alive.”

“This isn’t funny, Levi,” Erwin snapped, glaring at him.

“Oh, it’s hilarious,” Levi said, his smirk unwavering. “You’re the one who married a dramatic omega. You should know better by now.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Erwin admitted, his voice heavy with regret. “He’s put so much effort into this nursery, and I brushed him off like it didn’t matter. I need to fix this.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “And you’re asking *me* for advice? What do I know about apologizing to an emotional, pregnant omega?”

“You’ve known Armin long enough. Surely you have some idea—”

“Here’s an idea,” Levi cut him off with a smirk. “Grovel. And maybe bring something sweet. That always seems to work.”

Erwin sighed, standing abruptly. “You’re useless.”

Levi shrugged, pushing off the doorframe. “Good luck, Commander. You’re gonna need it.”

As Levi left, Erwin straightened his shoulders, determination setting in. He had a nursery to care about, an omega to apologize to, and, apparently, a lot of groveling to do.

Erwin wasted no time rallying the palace staff to make things right. He ordered Armin’s favorite tea brewed to perfection and had the gardeners gather the freshest roses—soft pink, white, and yellow blooms, delicately arranged into a bouquet tied with a silk ribbon. On his way back to the sitting room, he paused at the kitchens, collecting a tray of Armin’s favorite peach tarts, dusted with powdered sugar. Before returning, he took the softest blanket from their bed, knowing Armin would appreciate the comfort.

With everything in hand, Erwin approached the library where Armin had retreated to sulk. The large wooden doors were slightly ajar, and inside, he found Armin curled up on the velvet chaise by the window, cradling a book in his lap. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, and he stared out at the garden with a pout that tugged at Erwin’s heart.

Carefully, Erwin entered the room, balancing the tray and bouquet. He set them gently on the low table in front of Armin, the soft clinking of the teacups drawing his attention.

“Armin,” Erwin said quietly, his voice low and warm, like a plea.

Armin glanced up, his blue eyes narrowing at the sight of his husband. “What do you want?” he asked sharply, his voice still thick with emotion.

Erwin’s chest ached at the sight of him—his delicate omega, flushed and tearful, holding onto his hurt like a shield. “I want to apologize,” Erwin said, lowering himself to one knee beside the chaise. He rested his large hands on Armin’s knees, his touch light but grounding. “I didn’t mean to dismiss your question earlier. I was distracted, but that’s no excuse.”

Armin sniffled, his gaze dropping to the floor. He didn’t respond, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Erwin continued, his voice growing softer. “I care about the nursery because I care about you, Armin. You’ve poured so much love into planning it, and I made you feel like it didn’t matter. That was wrong of me.” He leaned forward, his eyes earnest. “I’m so sorry, my love. I never want you to feel like I don’t value what’s important to you.”

Armin’s eyes welled up again, but this time, they weren’t tears of anger or sadness. He stared at Erwin for a long moment, his fingers trembling as he reached up to brush them against Erwin’s cheek. “You really mean that?” he whispered, his voice small and unsure.

“With all my heart,” Erwin replied, turning his head to press a kiss to Armin’s palm.

Armin allowed Erwin to help him sit up straighter, and Erwin carefully handed him a teacup. The omega sipped it slowly, his cheeks still slightly flushed from crying. “You’re lucky I love you,” Armin muttered, but his tone was softer now, less biting.

“And I’m lucky to have you,” Erwin said smoothly, picking up the plate of peach tarts and placing one in Armin’s hand.

At the sight of the delicate pastry—his favorite—Armin’s pout wavered. He bit into it, the sweet flavor instantly lifting his mood, though he tried to maintain his air of indignation.

Erwin watched him with a fond smile, brushing a stray lock of blond hair from Armin’s forehead. “You look adorable when you’re pretending to be mad at me,” he teased gently, earning a half-hearted glare from Armin.

“You’re insufferable,” Armin said, though the corners of his mouth betrayed the ghost of a smile.

“I know darling ” Erwin countered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Armin’s cheek.

Armin blushed, the warmth spreading from his cheeks to his chest. He set the empty teacup aside and huffed. “Fine. You’re forgiven,” he said at last, folding his arms across his chest. “But only if you help me decide on the nursery colors.”

Erwin chuckled, relieved. “Anything you want, my love.”

Later that evening, as the palace quieted for the night, Armin wandered into their bedroom, holding the blanket Erwin had brought him earlier. The soft fabric felt like a warm hug in his hands, and an idea sparked in his mind.

When Erwin finally entered the room, he found Armin on their bed, surrounded by a cozy nest of blankets and pillows. The blankets were draped and arranged in soft, fluffy layers, creating a haven of warmth and comfort. Armin sat in the middle of it all, his hands cradling his belly, his expression peaceful and content.

“What is this?” Erwin asked, his lips twitching into a smile as he took in the sight of his omega cocooned in softness.

“My nest,” Armin replied simply, patting the space beside him. “Come join me.”

Erwin didn’t hesitate. He removed his jacket and boots, climbing into the nest with care. Armin immediately shifted closer, resting his head against Erwin’s chest and sighing contentedly.

“I suppose I should upset you more often if it means I get moments like this,” Erwin joked, earning a playful swat from Armin.

“Don’t even think about it,” Armin warned, though his voice was light with affection. He looked up at Erwin, his blue eyes shining. “Thank you. For the tea, the tarts, the flowers, everything. You always make me feel loved, even when you mess up.”

Erwin kissed the top of his head, his hand coming to rest on Armin’s belly. “That’s because I do love you. Always.”

Armin smiled, closing his eyes as he nestled deeper into the blankets, safe in the arms of the man who would always fight to make things right.

The morning light streamed through the windows as Erwin stepped into the sitting room, freshly dressed and ready to start his day. His steps faltered when he caught sight of Armin seated on the couch, happily munching on something with a blissful expression. Erwin’s sharp eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, realizing exactly what his pregnant spouse was eating.

“Armin,” Erwin began slowly, eyeing the plate on his lap, “is that... pickles dipped in honey?”

Armin looked up, a slice of pickle poised halfway to his lips. “Don’t judge me,” he said firmly, narrowing his blue eyes at his husband. He pointed the pickle at Erwin like a sword, as if daring him to argue. “This is your child’s fault, not mine.”

Erwin crossed his arms, trying and failing to suppress a grin. “My child’s fault, is it?”

“Yes,” Armin said, popping the pickle into his mouth and chewing with a satisfied hum. “This little tyrant in here,” he gestured to his growing belly, “woke me up at dawn, demanding weird food combinations. And now, here I am.”

Erwin chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Remind me to apologize to them when they’re older.”

“Good,” Armin said with a dramatic wave of his hand. “You should. For now, go fetch me more honey, would you? I’m running low.”

“Anything for you, my spoiled omega,” Erwin replied with mock solemnity, bending down to plant a kiss on Armin’s round cheek. He couldn’t help himself, giving it a gentle bite before pulling back.

“Erwin!” Armin gasped, swatting at him, though he was laughing. “If you want a bite, get your own pickles.”

“Pickles dipped in honey aren’t quite my taste,” Erwin teased, ruffling Armin’s hair before heading off to fulfill his spouse’s request.

Later that afternoon, Erwin found himself strolling through the kitchen after wrapping up a meeting it has become his comfort place . His footsteps halted when he spotted a familiar plate of cake sitting on the counter—a delectable slice of lemon sponge with cream frosting, no doubt left for Armin. The temptation was too much to resist.

Just as his fingers reached for the plate, a sharp voice rang out behind him.

“Hands off, King of Eldia!”

Erwin froze, caught like a child sneaking a treat before dinner. Turning slowly, he found Armin standing in the doorway, his hands on his hips and a fierce look in his eyes.

“I was just inspecting it for quality,” Erwin said smoothly, though the small smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

Armin marched over, his rounded belly leading the way. He snatched the plate from the counter and held it protectively against his chest. “This is mine,” he said firmly. “You have the entire royal kitchen at your disposal. Go steal your own dessert!”

Erwin laughed, leaning down to brush a kiss against his cheek. “You’re awfully possessive over cake.”

“I’m pregnant,” Armin replied without missing a beat, his eyes sparkling with playful defiance. “Possessiveness is my *right*.”

Erwin chuckled, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Very well, my queen. I’ll let you have this one.”

“You’d better,” Armin huffed, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

That night, as they prepared for bed, Armin was unusually quiet. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing his hair absentmindedly, his brows furrowed in thought.

Erwin noticed immediately, his heart sinking. “Armin?” he asked gently, stepping closer. “What’s wrong, my love?”

Armin looked up at him, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. His lips trembled as he sniffled, and then the words came tumbling out.

“I just realized…” he began, his voice cracking, “I never finished my cake!”

Erwin stared at him, stunned for a moment. Then, before he could stop himself, he burst into laughter. It was a deep, warm sound that filled the room, his shoulders shaking as he tried to contain it.

“This isn’t funny!” Armin wailed, his tears finally spilling over. “I’ve been thinking about that cake all evening!”

“Oh, my sweet Armin,” Erwin said, pulling him into his arms. He stroked his back soothingly as Armin buried his face in his chest, still sniffling. “You’re not just crying over cake, are you?”

“Yes, I am!” Armin insisted, though his voice was muffled against Erwin’s shirt. “It was *my* cake, and I forgot about it, and now it’s probably gone!”

Erwin kissed the top of his head, suppressing another laugh. “I’ll have the cooks make you another tomorrow. An even bigger slice, just for you.”

Armin pulled back slightly, looking up at him with watery eyes. “Really?”

“Of course,” Erwin promised, leaning down to kiss his tear-streaked cheek. This time, he couldn’t resist nipping the soft flesh gently, earning a surprised squeak from Armin.

“Erwin!” Armin protested, swatting at him with no real force.

“You’re too adorable when you pout,” Erwin teased, brushing his thumb across Armin’s cheek. “I can’t help myself.”

Armin blushed, his lips curving into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible,” Erwin replied smoothly, tucking him into bed with the blankets pulled snugly around him. “Now rest, my love. Tomorrow, there will be cake.”

Armin sighed, nestling into the warmth of the bed. “You’re the best,” he mumbled sleepily.

“And you’re mine,” Erwin whispered, pressing a final kiss to his forehead.

Chapter Text

The palace was unusually quiet, the golden hum of afternoon sunlight spilling through the tall windows of Armin and Erwin’s private chambers. Dust motes danced in the air like tiny stars, and the serenity of the moment was almost sacred.

Armin sat curled on a plush chaise, cocooned in a fortress of pillows Erwin had personally fluffed and arranged that morning. His delicate fingers turned the pages of a book on baby care, though his mind wandered as often as his eyes skimmed the words. One hand rested gently on his growing belly, his thumb absently stroking in soft circles.

Across from him, Erwin sat in a high-backed chair, a roll of military reports in his hands. He looked every bit the regal king—his broad shoulders squared, his sharp features composed—but his mind wasn’t on the reports. His piercing blue eyes kept flickering toward Armin, as though drawn to him by an invisible thread.

It was in this quiet, shared solitude that the world shifted.

Armin paused mid-sentence, his lips parting in surprise as his eyes widened. “Erwin,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Erwin’s head snapped up instantly, his focus shifting entirely to his spouse. He set the parchment down with a soft rustle and was at Armin’s side in a heartbeat, his hand resting on the armrest of the chaise. “What is it? Are you all right?”

Armin didn’t respond at first. His free hand pressed against his belly, his expression shifting from surprise to wonder. “I think…” He swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly. “I think I felt something.”

Erwin’s brow furrowed, concern flashing across his face. “Something?” he repeated cautiously, his hand hovering near Armin’s shoulder. “Like pain? Should I call Hanji?”

Armin let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No, not pain. It’s—” He hesitated, his eyes brightening as a smile tugged at his lips. “Here. Give me your hand.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Erwin extended his hand, letting Armin guide it. Armin’s smaller fingers rested atop Erwin’s larger, calloused ones, pressing his palm gently against the curve of his belly.

For a moment, there was nothing. Just the quiet crackle of the fire in the hearth and the steady rise and fall of Armin’s breathing. Erwin waited with bated breath, his hand still as stone. And then—it happened.

A tiny flutter beneath his palm, faint but unmistakable.

Erwin’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. He froze, his entire being focused on the delicate, miraculous sensation. Another nudge came, more defined this time—a gentle prod that felt like the tiniest knock from within.

“Was that—?” Erwin’s voice broke, his words trailing off as his gaze snapped to Armin’s face.

“The baby,” Armin confirmed, his voice thick with emotion, a radiant smile breaking across his face.

Erwin’s composure shattered in an instant, his usual stoicism giving way to pure, unfiltered wonder. His hand trembled slightly as he pressed it more firmly against Armin’s belly, his fingers splaying to cover as much of the surface as possible, desperate to feel it again.

“Our child,” he whispered, his voice a reverent hush, as if speaking too loudly would break the fragile beauty of the moment.

The baby responded as if hearing his voice—a stronger, confident kick pressing against Erwin’s hand. The sensation sent a ripple of awe through him, and his lips parted in a soft gasp. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now brimmed with unshed tears.

Armin watched him, his own chest tightening at the sight of Erwin’s raw vulnerability. It was rare to see the mighty king reduced to such a state, his entire world crumbling and rebuilding around the life they had created together.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Armin said softly, his voice like a gentle breeze, his other hand reaching up to cradle Erwin’s cheek.

Erwin didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned down, his golden hair brushing against Armin’s belly as he pressed a tender kiss to the spot where their child had kicked. His lips lingered there, his breath warm against Armin’s skin.

“Hello, little one,” he murmured, his deep baritone voice carrying an almost sacred weight. “You are so loved already. We can’t wait to meet you.”

The baby responded once more, a gentle push that seemed almost deliberate, as if acknowledging Erwin’s words.

Armin laughed through his tears, brushing his fingers through Erwin’s hair. “I think they’re excited to meet you too,” he said, his voice trembling with happiness.

Erwin pulled back just enough to look up at Armin, his hand still resting on his belly. His expression was soft, utterly unguarded, a look reserved only for the one he loved most in the world. “They’re perfect,” he whispered. “Just like their mother.”

Armin’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and he swatted at Erwin’s shoulder playfully. “Flatterer,” he murmured, though his smile only widened.

Erwin grinned and, unable to resist, leaned forward to press a kiss to Armin’s glowing cheek. This time, he gently nipped at it, earning a startled squeak.

“Erwin!” Armin scolded, his eyes widening in mock indignation.

“You’re too cute,” Erwin said with a soft laugh, brushing his thumb against the cheek he’d just bitten. “And you make me happier than I ever thought possible.”

Armin’s hand covered Erwin’s, their fingers intertwining over his belly. “You make me feel the same,” he said softly, leaning into his husband’s touch.

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the quiet joy of the moment, the love between them growing even stronger with the tiny life they both cherished so deeply.

-----------------------------------

The morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the palace, casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors. Erwin held Armin’s hand as he led him through the grand hallways, their steps unhurried. Armin, still a little drowsy from waking up, clung to Erwin’s arm, his curiosity piqued by his husband’s playful secrecy.

“Where are you taking me?” Armin asked with a soft laugh, tilting his head up to look at him.

Erwin smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Patience, my love. You’ll see soon enough.”

When they arrived at one of the grand sitting rooms, Erwin pushed the double doors open with a dramatic flair. Armin’s breath hitched as his gaze fell upon the scene before him—a line of seamstresses and tailors stood in neat rows, their arms laden with bolts of the finest fabrics and sketches of tiny outfits displayed on easels. Tables were filled with spools of delicate threads, miniature shoes, and samples of jewelry so intricate they looked like they belonged in a museum.

“What is all this?” Armin asked, his eyes widening in surprise as he stepped into the room.

Erwin smiled, his hand slipping from Armin’s to rest gently on his back as he guided him toward a cushioned chair draped in soft velvet. “I brought the finest baby tailors in the kingdom. Today, you get to choose the most exquisite clothes and accessories for our little one.”

Armin’s lips parted, his cheeks blooming pink. “You did all this… for me?”

“For you and for our child,” Erwin replied, bending down to press a tender kiss to Armin’s temple. “I want everything about this experience to be as perfect as you deserve.”

Armin sank into the chair, his hands covering his face for a moment as he laughed softly. “You spoil me too much, Erwin.”

“I hardly think that’s possible,” Erwin said with a grin, straightening up. “Now, shall we begin?”

The tailors stepped forward one by one, presenting their designs with professional precision but an undeniable air of excitement. The first held up a tiny silk gown embroidered with delicate golden patterns.

“This piece,” the tailor began, bowing slightly to Armin, “is inspired by the royal gardens. The embroidery represents the blooming flowers of spring, a symbol of new life and prosperity.”

Armin reached out, his fingers brushing the soft silk. His eyes lit up as he turned to Erwin. “It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s perfect,” Erwin said, his voice warm. “Just like our child will be.”

The next tailor, a cheerful older woman with a twinkle in her eye, presented a miniature jacket lined with the softest fur. “For when the little prince joins you on your winter outings,” she explained. “Warm and practical, but still fitting for royalty.”

Armin giggled, holding it up. “Erwin, can you imagine? They’ll look like a tiny snow prince or a snow ball .”

Erwin chuckled, his hand resting on Armin’s shoulder. “They’ll be adorable, though I suspect they’ll be just as stubborn about wearing it as you .”

Armin playfully swatted his arm. “I am not stubborn!”

One of the younger tailors, clearly nervous but eager to please, presented a pair of impossibly tiny booties. “These are made from lamb’s wool. Incredibly soft, your majesty, to ensure no discomfort for their delicate feet.”

Armin held one in his palm, his eyes misting. “They’re so small,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

The tailor, emboldened by Armin’s reaction, added, “We can dye them in any color you’d like. Perhaps royal blue?”

Armin turned to Erwin, holding up the booties. “I think blue would look lovely.”

Erwin smiled, leaning closer. “Already assuming they’ll have my eyes?”

Armin tilted his head, his grin playful. “Well, if they take after you, they’ll be the most handsome baby in the world.”

“And if they take after you,” Erwin countered smoothly, “they’ll be perfect in every way.”

Next came the accessories—soft hats, embroidered mittens, and even a tiny crown encrusted with shimmering jewels. When Armin saw the crown, he couldn’t help but laugh as he picked it up and held it out to Erwin.

“Imagine them wearing this,” Armin said, his cheeks glowing with delight.

Erwin took the crown gingerly, examining it with mock seriousness. “A royal crown for a royal terror, I’m sure,” he said with a smirk.

One of the tailors chuckled softly. “Majesty, perhaps a slightly smaller design would suit an infant better?”

Armin laughed, leaning against Erwin’s shoulder. “I think they’ll grow into it.”

Erwin chuckled, placing the crown back with care. “Let’s just hope they don’t try to rule the kingdom too soon.”

Another tailor chimed in, “Your majesties, should we include matching outfits for their first portraits? Perhaps something coordinating for the whole family?”

Armin’s eyes sparkled as he turned to Erwin. “What do you think? Matching outfits for their first portrait?”

Erwin groaned playfully, rubbing his forehead. “You mean I’ll be wearing lace and bows?”

The room burst into laughter, including Armin, who wiped at his eyes as he laughed. “No, but now that you mention it, maybe we should!”

“Absolutely not,” Erwin said with mock sternness, though the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

As the tailors began packing up the fabrics and designs, promising to return with finished pieces soon, Armin turned to Erwin. His smile was soft, almost shy, as he reached for his husband’s hand.

“Thank you for this,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over Erwin’s knuckles. “For everything. You’ve made me feel so loved.”

Erwin cupped Armin’s cheek, his thumb tracing the soft curve of his flushed skin. “You deserve the world, Armin. You’ve given me so much already—a family, a home, a love I never thought possible.”

Armin leaned into his touch, his voice tender

Erwin kissed his forehead, then pressed his lips gently to Armin’s belly. “Anything for you, my love. Anything for our family.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the warmth of the moment, dreaming together of the bright future that awaited them and their child.

------------------------------------------

later that evening, the maids had faced a particularly difficult task helping Armin through his nightly bath routine. His growing belly made it almost impossible for him to lower himself into the tub without someone’s assistance, and even standing up afterward was a feat of its own.

Armin had flushed in frustration as two maids worked to hold his arms while he struggled to get out of the tub, a soft whimper escaping his lips when his balance faltered slightly. “I can’t even bathe myself anymore,” he muttered under his breath.

One maid, clearly distressed by his tone, offered, “You’re doing wonderfully, Your Majesty. It’s only natural to need help.”

But Armin couldn’t hide the exhaustion clouding his features. By the time he was dried off and robed, he looked ready to cry from sheer frustration. Things only worsened when the maids began brushing his hair, their movements brisk and efficient but far from gentle. Every snag and pull brought a sharp wince to his face, and eventually, he shook his head.

“Enough,” he said, his voice trembling. “Just… leave it. I’ll figure it out myself.”

The maids exchanged nervous glances but obeyed, bowing deeply before retreating from the room. Moments later, Erwin entered, his brows furrowing immediately at the sight of his omega sitting on the bed, shoulders hunched and eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“What happened?” Erwin asked, his voice low and soothing as he placed the tray of snacks on the side table.

Armin let out a tired sigh, gesturing to his tangled hair. “The bath was a nightmare, and then the maids were too rough with my hair. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Erwin’s jaw tightened. He crossed the room in two strides and knelt beside the bed, placing a comforting hand on Armin’s thigh. “Why didn’t you call for me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Armin admitted, his voice small. “You already do so much for me I couldn't ask for more .”

Erwin cupped his cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped free. “You could never bother me, Armin. Your comfort and happiness are my priority.”

He stood abruptly, his commanding tone filling the room

The maids reappeared quickly, their faces pale with worry.

“Leave us,” Erwin said firmly, though not unkindly. “I’ll take care of my queen tonight.”

The maids bowed and left the room without hesitation. Armin stared at Erwin, wide-eyed. “You didn’t have to send them away like that.”

“I couldn’t stand to see you in distress,” Erwin said, climbing onto the bed behind him. He grabbed the brush that had been discarded earlier. “Now, let me help.”

Armin still looked uncertain as Erwin sat behind him, the brush in his hand looking comically small against his large palm. “Do you even know how to brush hair?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Erwin said with a soft smile. “Besides, I’ll be gentle. Much gentler than the maids.”

Armin huffed but gave a small nod, allowing Erwin to start.

The first few strokes were tentative, barely grazing the ends of Armin’s golden locks. “That’s… okay,” Armin murmured, leaning back slightly.

Encouraged, Erwin worked his way upward, taking care to avoid pulling too hard. But soon enough, the brush caught on a stubborn knot, and Armin winced.

“Sorry,” Erwin said quickly, pulling the brush back. He set it down and gently smoothed his hand over the tangled section of hair, as though soothing it. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Armin chuckled, his frustration ebbing slightly at Erwin’s almost childlike remorse. “It’s okay. Just… start at the bottom and work your way up. Slow and gentle.”

“Slow and gentle,” Erwin repeated, his brow furrowed in concentration. He followed Armin’s advice, carefully detangling each section of hair with deliberate movements. Occasionally, his fingers would brush against Armin’s scalp, and the omega couldn’t help but sigh softly at the soothing sensation.

After a while, Erwin’s confidence grew. “This isn’t so bad,” he mused, his tone light.

Armin tilted his head slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “You’re surprisingly good at this. Should I start calling you my royal hairstylist?”

Erwin chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Armin’s head. “Only if I’m paid in kisses.”

As Erwin continued brushing, he hesitated for a moment before saying, “If the maids are too rough, I could replace them. Hire ones who are more mindful of your needs.”

Armin shook his head, his golden strands glinting in the lamplight. “It’s not their fault. They’re just doing their jobs, and I’m… well, I’m tender-headed. I should have spoken up sooner instead of getting frustrated.”

Erwin hummed thoughtfully. “Even so, you shouldn’t have to endure discomfort like that. I’ll talk to them, make sure they’re more careful in the future.”

Armin smiled, his heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you, darling ''

By the time Erwin finished, Armin’s hair was smooth and tangle-free, cascading like a waterfall of gold. Erwin set the brush aside and ran his fingers through the silky strands, a look of pride on his face.

“There,” he said softly. “Perfect, just like you.”

Armin turned to face him, his eyes brimming with affection. “I love you .”

Erwin cupped his face, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you too. You deserve all the care and love in the world my dearest ”

As they settled back into bed, Armin snuggled against Erwin’s chest, his earlier frustrations forgotten. Wrapped in his husband’s arms, he finally felt at ease.

------------------------------------

Armin was pacing—well, as much as waddling could count as pacing—across the royal chambers. His face was set in a determined pout, his hands resting on his swollen belly.

“I need fresh air, Erwin,” he declared, his voice firm. “I’ve been cooped up in this palace for weeks. I want to go on a picnic in the garden.”

Erwin, standing with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. “Armin, love, you’re due any day now. You shouldn’t be wandering around outside. What if you trip? Or worse, what if—”

“Don’t you dare say it!” Armin cut him off, pointing a finger. “I’m not made of glass, Erwin. I just want to sit under a tree, eat some fruit, and enjoy the breeze.”

The maids and even Eren chimed in, trying to dissuade him. Eren, leaning against the doorframe, smirked. “Honestly, Armin, you’ll just end up regretting it when your feet swell even more. Plus, what if you go into labor out there? That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

Armin shot him a glare so sharp it could’ve cut steel. “Eren, if you value your life, you’ll stay out of this.”

Eren raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. “Alright, alright. ”

Armin then turned his full arsenal on Erwin. He stepped closer, looked up at his towering husband, and unleashed his secret weapon—puppy eyes, complete with a dramatic quiver of his lower lip. To seal the deal, he stood on tiptoes (well, as much as his swollen feet allowed) and pressed a soft kiss to Erwin’s lips.

“Please, Erwin?” he whispered sweetly.

Erwin’s resolve crumbled instantly. He let out a long-suffering sigh, running a hand down his face. “Fine. But only for a short while, and I’m coming with you.”

Armin’s triumphant grin was blinding. “Thank you! I’ll get the maids to pack us a basket.”

Minutes later, the pair made their way to the garden, Armin waddling ahead with determination while Erwin hovered protectively behind him, his hands outstretched as if to catch him should he so much as stumble.

“Armin, slow down,” Erwin said for the fifth time in two minutes. “You’re going to tire yourself out.”

“I’m fine, Erwin,” Armin replied, his tone exasperated. “Stop fussing.”

“Fussing? I’m not fussing; I’m *ensuring your safety*,” Erwin countered, his tone slightly indignant. “Do you know how much paperwork I’d have to do if the queen of Eldia face-planted in the garden?”

Armin laughed, though it was cut short by a grunt as he adjusted his stance. “I’ll have you know that my balance is impeccable, even in my condition.”

“Sure, love,” Erwin replied, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “Just don’t try cartwheels, alright?”

Despite the occasional teasing, Armin found the stroll relaxing. The cool breeze kissed his flushed cheeks, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the air. They found a lovely spot under a large tree, where Erwin spread out a blanket and helped Armin settle down.

As they snacked on fresh fruit and cheese, their conversation turned to the baby.

“What do you think they’ll look like?” Armin asked, his tone wistful.

Erwin smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from Armin’s face. “I hope they take after you. Golden hair, bright blue eyes, and that curious little tilt of your nose.”

Armin blushed. “I wouldn’t mind if they had your eyes. They’re so warm and steady.”

“Maybe a mix, then,” Erwin suggested, his gaze soft. “Golden hair, blue eyes, but with my height.”

“Poor thing,” Armin teased. “They’ll be bumping their head on every doorway.”

They both laughed, their hands instinctively moving to rest on Armin’s belly.

“What about their personality?” Armin asked.

Erwin tilted his head in thought. “I hope they’re kind, like you. But maybe a little stubborn too, so they can hold their own.”

Armin smirked. “They’ll be stubborn, alright. That’s inevitable with parents like us.”

“Subgender?” Erwin asked gently.

Armin’s eyes softened. “I don’t mind. Whether they’re an alpha, beta, or omega, I’ll love them just the same. what about you luv ?”

“The same,” Erwin said without hesitation. “As long as they’re healthy and happy, that’s all I care about.”

Their peaceful moment shattered in an instant when Armin froze mid-bite, his hand clutching his belly. His expression twisted, a mix of shock and confusion as his lips parted in a soft gasp.

“Armin?” Erwin’s deep voice was immediately laced with concern, his body tensing as he leaned closer.

Armin’s wide blue eyes darted down, then to the ground beneath him, where a faint dampness began to seep into the blanket. His hands trembled as he gripped Erwin’s sleeve. “Erwin… I think my water just broke.”

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Erwin’s sharp mind, usually so quick and decisive, blanked entirely as he stared at Armin in stunned silence. The weight of those words hit him like a thunderclap, reverberating through his chest.

Then the chaos began.

“*Stay calm,*” Erwin said, though his voice cracked slightly, betraying the storm of panic brewing inside him. His body moved faster than his thoughts, scooping Armin into his arms with a strength born of sheer instinct.

“Maids!” Erwin bellowed as he started sprinting toward the palace, his voice echoing through the garden like a battle cry. “Call Hanji and the midwives! *Now!*”

The picnic basket toppled over, forgotten, as Erwin charged forward with Armin cradled tightly in his arms.

Armin clung to his husband, his face pale and his breath shaky. “Erwin, slow down,” he said weakly, though his trembling voice betrayed a flicker of humor. “You’re carrying me like we’re fleeing a war.”

“It feels like we are!” Erwin shot back, his usually composed tone bordering on frantic. “You’re about to give birth, Armin! Do you have any idea how serious this is?”

“Yes, I do,” Armin deadpanned through a wince, biting his lip as another wave of discomfort washed over him. “I’m the one doing it, after all.”

“Then please don’t talk,” Erwin said, his voice tight. “Save your strength.”

By the time they reached the palace doors, the entire household was in an uproar. Maids darted in every direction, a blur of skirts and frantic whispers. Eren appeared out of nowhere, his eyes wide as he took in the scene.

“What the hell happened?” Eren demanded, following closely as Erwin barreled past.

“His water broke,” Erwin barked without slowing down.

Eren’s face paled. “What—here? In the garden?!”

“Where else, Eren? On the throne?” Armin muttered, though his voice was strained with pain.

“Don’t joke,” Erwin snapped, his tone sharper than intended.

Hanji burst into the hallway ahead of them, their lab coat flapping dramatically as they skidded to a halt. “Oh-ho! We’ve got a royal delivery on our hands!” They clapped their hands together, their eyes gleaming with excitement. “Get him to the birthing chamber—stat! And someone boil water! Isn’t that what people always do in these situations?”

“Hanji!” Erwin growled. “This isn’t a science experiment!”

Hanji waved him off, already barking orders to the midwives and maids. “Relax, your majesty We’ve got this under control.”

As Erwin carried Armin into the grand birthing chamber, his heart pounded like a war drum. The room was warm and bustling with activity—midwives preparing towels, herbal infusions steaming in the air, and medical instruments glinting ominously in the soft light.

Erwin set Armin down gently on the bed, brushing damp hair away from his husband’s pale forehead. “Armin, look at me,” he said, his voice trembling despite his best efforts to stay calm. “You’re going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

Armin’s breathing was uneven, but his hand reached for Erwin’s, squeezing it tightly. “Erwin…” His voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m scared.”

Erwin’s chest tightened painfully. He pressed his forehead to Armin’s, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. “You’re the bravest person I know. You’ve carried our child for months, and you’ve done it with more strength than I could ever muster. You can do this, Armin. I’m right here with you. Always.”

Tears slipped down Armin’s cheeks, but he nodded, drawing strength from Erwin’s unwavering gaze. “I trust you,” he whispered.

Hanji clapped their hands together, breaking the intimate moment. “Alright, people, places! This baby isn’t going to wait for anyone!”

Erwin reluctantly let go of Armin’s hand as the midwives took over, but he stayed close, his eyes never leaving Armin’s face. Every wince, every labored breath felt like a dagger to his heart, but he held himself steady for Armin’s sake.

As the midwives worked, Erwin found himself praying silently, his lips moving without sound. The usually unshakable king was brought to his knees by the vulnerability of the moment, his love for his omega and their unborn child overpowering every other thought.

And as Armin’s cries filled the room, mingling with the midwives’ instructions and Hanji’s excited commentary, Erwin knew this would be the most terrifying and beautiful battle they’d ever face together.

Armin clung to Erwin’s hand like a lifeline, his knuckles white and trembling. His body was drenched in sweat, his golden hair plastered to his pale face. Another contraction ripped through him, a searing pain that tore a guttural cry from his lips.

“*I can’t do this!*” Armin choked out, his voice raw with exhaustion and despair. He squeezed Erwin’s hand with surprising strength, his nails digging into Erwin’s skin.

“You *can*,” Hanji said firmly, crouched at the foot of the bed with the midwives. “You’re almost there, Armin! Just breathe through it.”

“I *am* breathing!” Armin snapped, his tone sharper than a blade as his teary gaze shot daggers at Hanji. “I swear if one more person tells me to breathe—”

“Armin,” Erwin interrupted gently, leaning closer to stroke his damp forehead. “Focus on me, love.”

Armin turned his wrath on him instead. “Don’t you ‘love’ me right now, Erwin!” he growled, his voice shaking as another wave of agony coursed through him. “This is your fault! *Your fault!*”

Erwin winced but held his ground, his deep blue eyes filled with unwavering patience and love. “If blaming me helps, then by all means,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to Armin’s temple. “But you’re doing so well, Armin. You’re incredible.”

Armin let out a strangled laugh, though it quickly turned into a groan of pain. “Flattery won’t save you! When this is over, I’m—ahh!” He broke off with a cry, his free hand clawing at the sheets.

“Deep breaths, Armin!” Hanji urged, her voice steady yet urgent. “You’re so close now. Just a little more!”

Armin’s head fell back against the pillows, his chest heaving. “I can’t,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “It hurts too much…”

“You can,” Erwin said, his voice soft but commanding. He knelt beside Armin, bringing their foreheads together. “You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve fought battles no one else could. You can do this, my love. I’m right here with you.”

Armin’s tear-filled eyes met his, searching for reassurance. “You better mean that,” he mumbled weakly, though his trembling fingers tightened around Erwin’s hand.

Another contraction hit, harder than the last, and Armin screamed, his body arching off the bed. “I *hate* you, Erwin!” he yelled through clenched teeth, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. “I hate you so much right now!”

Erwin didn’t flinch, even as Armin’s nails bit into his skin. Instead, he pressed a tender kiss to Armin’s knuckles. “I’ll take the blame,” he said softly. “All of it. But you’re almost there, Armin. Just one more push.”

Armin let out a choked sob, his body trembling with exhaustion. “I… I don’t have anything left…”

“Yes, you do,” Erwin said, his voice steady and certain. “You’ve always had more strength than you realize. Just one more, Armin. One more push, and you’ll meet our baby ''

Summoning every ounce of willpower, Armin clenched his teeth and bore down with everything he had. The pain was blinding, ripping through him like fire, and for a moment, it felt like the world would split in two.

A high-pitched wail cut through the tension, filling the room. Armin collapsed back onto the pillows, gasping for air as tears poured down his face.

“It’s a boy!” Hanji’s jubilant announcement barely registered in Armin’s ears as she held up the tiny, squirming baby.

Armin’s vision blurred, but he blinked through the tears, his gaze locking onto the bundle being carefully cleaned and wrapped. The pain, the exhaustion, the anger—all of it melted away as a soft, fragile cry reached his ears.

Erwin leaned down, his own eyes shining with unshed tears as he pressed a lingering kiss to Armin’s sweat-soaked forehead. “You did it, my love,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re incredible.”

Armin let out a shaky laugh, his trembling fingers reaching for the baby as Hanji brought him closer. “He’s… beautiful,” he breathed, his voice trembling as the tiny infant was placed in his arms.

Erwin wrapped an arm around both of them, resting his cheek against Armin’s hair as they gazed at their son. “You’re amazing,” he whispered again, unable to stop the tears that finally spilled down his cheeks.

And in that moment, as their son’s soft cries filled the room, every moment of pain and fear was forgotten, replaced by a love so overwhelming it left them breathless.

Armin chuckled softly as he cradled their newborn son in his arms. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried a warmth that filled the room. “He has your nose.”

Erwin leaned closer, his large hand resting gently on the baby's tiny back. “And your lips,” he countered, his voice deep but tender, the edges softened by awe.

The baby stirred at the sound of their voices, letting out a soft cry. Both parents leaned in instinctively, their movements synchronized by an unspoken bond.

“Shh, little one,” Armin murmured, his lips brushing the infant’s forehead as he rocked him gently. “We’re here. Always.”

Erwin watched the scene with glistening eyes, his chest tightening with an emotion so profound it left him breathless. He brushed his fingertips over the baby’s delicate hand, marveling at how such a tiny being could hold so much of his heart.

“You’ve changed everything,” Erwin said softly, his gaze fixed on their son but his words meant for Armin. “I never knew I could feel this… whole.”

Armin looked up at him, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as their eyes met. “You’re not just whole, Erwin. You’re everything. To me. To him.”

Erwin bent down, pressing a lingering kiss to Armin’s forehead. “And you’re my everything, Armin. My love. My light.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth and the quiet wonder of their new family.

The joy of the prince’s birth spread like wildfire through Eldia. Church bells rang in celebration, their echoes reaching even the furthest villages. People filled the streets, waving flags and singing songs of praise for their queen and the new heir.

In the palace’s grand hall, the council had gathered, each member waiting with bated breath. When Erwin appeared, his broad shoulders framed by the glow of the torches, the room fell silent. His usual commanding presence was still there, but it was softened by a rare, unguarded smile.

“The queen has delivered a healthy boy,” he announced, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber. His pride and joy were unmistakable. “Both mother and child are well.”

For a moment, the room was still, as if the weight of the announcement needed time to settle. Then, it erupted into cheers and applause. Even the most stoic council members could not hide their delight as messengers were dispatched to carry the news to every corner of the kingdom.

“This is a day of great joy,” Erwin continued, his voice steady but brimming with emotion. “Our family grows, and with it, the hope for our future.”

The world outside celebrated, but inside the royal chambers, there was only peace. Armin rested in the grand bed, propped up by soft pillows, his hair still damp from the ordeal. Beside him, their son slept soundly in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Erwin sat close, his fingers intertwined with Armin’s, their hands resting atop the silk blanket. He hadn’t let go since the birth, and he had no intention of doing so.

“You were incredible,” Erwin said softly, his thumb brushing over Armin’s knuckles in slow, comforting strokes. His voice was low, reverent, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the serenity of the moment.

Armin turned his head, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but alight with joy. “We did this together.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried a strength that belied his tired body.

Erwin leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Armin’s lips. It was a kiss filled with gratitude, love, and unspoken promises. “Thank you, Armin,” he murmured against his lips. “For everything. For giving me a family. For trusting me with your heart. For being my heart.”

Tears welled in Armin’s eyes, spilling over as he pulled Erwin closer. Their foreheads touched, and he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of his husband and the warmth of his presence. “And thank you for being by my side. Always. You never let go.”

“Never,” Erwin vowed, his voice breaking slightly as he kissed Armin’s tears away. “I’ll never let go. I’ll always be here, for you and for him.”

Armin let out a soft laugh, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming love. “He’s so tiny. So perfect. Do you think he knows how loved he is?”

Erwin glanced at the crib, his heart swelling as he watched their son stir slightly, his tiny fingers curling in his sleep. “He’ll know. Every day. We’ll make sure of it.”

They sat in silence for a while, basking in the quiet miracle of their new beginning. Erwin eventually stood and walked over to the crib, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his son’s forehead.

“Welcome to the world, little one,” he whispered. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

When he returned to Armin’s side, he slid into bed carefully, wrapping an arm around his husband and pulling him close. Together, they watched over their newborn son, their hearts full and their worries forgotten.

“I love you, Erwin,” Armin murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.

“And I love you,” Erwin replied, holding him tightly. “Always, my love. Always.”

As the night deepened, the world outside quieted, but within the royal chambers, a love as infinite as the stars illuminated their hearts. Together, they were ready to face whatever lay ahead—because together, they had everything.

Chapter Text

The news of Prince Theodor Erwin Smith’s birth rippled across kingdoms, reaching even the most distant lands. As the firstborn of the King and Queen of Eldia—and a prince of Marlay by blood—his arrival was heralded as a symbol of unity and hope.

Lavish gifts flooded the palace gates, each offering more extravagant than the last. From the deep mines of Rezia came sapphires and emeralds, their brilliance unmatched. The southern territories gifted sprawling lands rich with golden wheat, promising prosperity for generations. The coastal nations, eager to gain favor, sent entire fleets of ships adorned with banners bearing the prince’s name.

Silks softer than clouds, spices fragrant with warmth, and artifacts of ancient power arrived in such abundance that even the palace storerooms groaned under their weight. Yet, among the grandeur and excess, it was the simplest gifts that carried the deepest meaning.

Among the endless tributes, there were two gifts that stood apart from the rest—simple yet priceless, given by the ones who loved Theodor as family.

Levi’s gift arrived wrapped in a plain wooden box, unmarked and unadorned. When Armin opened it, he found a tiny pair of boots made from the finest black leather, handcrafted with precision. They were far too big for Theodor now, but Armin knew they would fit him perfectly one day. Nestled beside them was a small note written in Levi’s sharp, unmistakable handwriting:

*"For when the little brat starts running all over the castle. Better be ready for it."*

Armin laughed, wiping at his eyes as Erwin smirked. “That’s Levi for you.”

“He won’t admit it, but he’s already attached,” Erwin murmured, his voice thick with warmth.

Eren’s gift, in contrast, was wrapped in soft blue velvet. Inside lay a delicate silver bracelet, its surface engraved with intricate patterns of waves and constellations. At its center was a small sapphire, deep and endless like the ocean.

Armin traced his fingers over the engraving, recognizing the design immediately. It was a replica of the stories they used to share in their childhood—of the sea, of freedom, of a world without walls.

Eren’s letter was written with an uncharacteristic softness:

*"For the prince who will one day dream of the ocean. May he always find his way home."*

Tears welled in Armin’s eyes as he pressed the bracelet close to his heart. “Oh, Eren…”

Erwin wrapped an arm around him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “It seems our son is already surrounded by those who will love and protect him.”

Armin smiled, shifting Theodor slightly so the baby lay nestled between them. “Then he’s already the richest prince in the world.”

later that day after Levi and Eren has said their goodbyes , Armin sat in the nursery it was filled with the golden light of dawn, the gentle scent of lavender filling the air. he sat in a rocking chair, cradling little Theodor against his chest. The infant now 2 weeks old stirred, his tiny hand curling around Armin’s finger, his breaths soft and steady.

Erwin entered the room, his presence a steady force of warmth and reassurance. In his hand, he held a letter embossed with the royal seal of Marlay. “It seems the Kingdom of Marlay is sending an entire regiment of craftsmen to build a library in the prince’s name,” he said with a faint smile.

Armin chuckled, his eyes never leaving their son. “At this rate, he’ll own half the world before he can even walk.”

Erwin knelt beside him, brushing his lips over Armin’s temple before pressing a kiss to Theodor’s soft golden baby curls. “It’s a testament to how loved you are, my queen. And how much hope our son represents for the future.”

Armin exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he rocked Theo gently in his arms. “Two weeks have passed, yet it feels like time is running so fast.”

He gazed down at their son, watching the slow rise and fall of his tiny chest. Theo’s fingers twitched, curling slightly against the soft fabric of Armin’s sleeve . His little face, so serene, so perfect, made Armin’s heart ache with a love so deep it almost hurt.

Erwin sat beside them, leaning on the armrest of the rocking chair, his hand resting over Armin’s. He sighed, his voice laced with disbelief. “Didn’t you just give birth yesterday? It’s scary how time runs nowadays.”

Armin tilted his head, watching Theodor’s peaceful face. “It doesn’t feel real. One moment, I was holding him for the first time, and now he’s already growing. What if I blink and suddenly he’s walking? Talking?”

Erwin chuckled, but there was a hint of unease in his eyes. “No. That’s impossible. He’s going to stay like this for a while—tiny, fragile, needing us for everything.”

Armin turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “That’s denial.”

“I prefer to call it optimism,” Erwin said

Armin sighed, leaning his head against Erwin’s shoulder. “I just want to remember every second of this. His little fingers, the way he sighs in his sleep, the way he looks at us like we’re his whole world…”

Erwin pressed a kiss to the top of Armin’s head. “We are his whole world. And he is ours.”

Theodor stirred slightly in his sleep, his tiny hand reaching out. Both parents watched in silent awe as his fingers curled around Armin’s index finger holding on with a grip stronger than they expected.

Erwin exhaled slowly. “Alright. Maybe time is moving too fast.”

Armin chuckled, wiping at the corner of his eye. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

scoffed, shaking his head. “Nope. That’s not happening. He’s going to stay like this—small, fragile, needing you to rock him to sleep every night.”

Armin’s lips twitched. “Needing *us,* Erwin.”

Erwin’s hand moved to Theo’s tiny foot, his fingers ghosting over the warm skin

The rocking chair creaked softly as they swayed, wrapped in the quiet warmth of their little family, holding onto the fleeting moment as if sheer will alone could slow the hands of time.

--------------------------

The days of peaceful slumber were long gone.

Ever since Theo was born, the grand rhythm of the palace had shifted—but none more so than within the royal chambers. What was once a space of serenity and quiet intimacy had transformed into a place of constant movement, of muffled cries in the dark, of exhausted murmurs between Erwin and Armin.

Despite having decorated an entire nursery with the finest silks and cradles, Armin could not bring himself to leave Theo alone at night. The very thought of his son waking up in a room without him, without the warmth of his presence, sent shivers down his spine. And so, without hesitation, he had ordered the maids to move Theo’s crib into their bedroom, placing it just beside their grand, velvet-canopied bed.

But the reality of parenthood was far from the picturesque lullabies Armin had envisioned. Every two hours, without fail, Theo would wake, his cries piercing through the stillness of the night like a sword through silk. His little lungs were stronger than one might expect from a newborn, and no matter how softly Erwin tried to hush him, the sound rattled through the walls, a symphony of desperation only his parents could soothe.

Armin barely slept. He refused to let the maids care for Theo beyond what was absolutely necessary. He knew he had an entire staff ready to tend to his son’s every need, but he couldn’t bring himself to let them. This was *his* baby. *His* firstborn. *His* responsibility. And the fears that came with first-time motherhood wrapped around him like a tightening noose. What if the maids weren’t as careful as they should be? What if Theo needed him and he wasn’t there? What if he missed something—some moment, some sign—that only a mother should notice?

The nights blurred together into an exhausting cycle. Armin would wake to Theo’s wails, his body sluggish with fatigue as he sat up, reaching blindly for his baby. Erwin, ever attentive, would rise as well, often beating Armin to it, cradling their son in his large hands as he rocked him gently against his chest. The sight alone was enough to make Armin’s heart ache—Erwin, the ever-composed king, now swaying half-asleep with a baby in his arms, murmuring sweet nothings in a voice thick with exhaustion.

But some nights were harder than others.

One particular night, Theo was inconsolable. No amount of rocking or gentle pats would calm him. His tiny face was scrunched in distress, his tiny fists shaking as his cries rang through the chamber. Armin had tried everything—feeding him, swaddling him, even humming softly against his temple—but nothing worked. His patience, worn thin by weeks of sleepless nights, began to fray at the edges.

“Why won’t he settle?” Armin whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he bounced Theo against his chest. “He’s not hungry, he’s not wet, he’s just—”

“Tired,” Erwin murmured from beside him. He, too, looked worse for wear—his strong frame slumped against the headboard, his usually sharp blue eyes clouded with exhaustion. “But so are we.”

Armin sighed, pressing his lips to Theo’s soft golden curls. He didn’t have the heart to let the maids take over, but for the first time, he understood why new parents often did. The weight of responsibility was suffocating. His love for Theo was all-consuming, but his body was weary, his mind fogged with the kind of exhaustion that no amount of royal luxury could fix.

After another hour of relentless crying, Theo finally calmed, his tiny body giving in to sleep as Armin cradled him close. Erwin shifted beside him, reaching out to brush his fingers over Armin’s wrist. “You should sleep while you can,” he murmured, concern evident in his tone.

Armin only shook his head, eyes half-lidded but resolute. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” Erwin sat up fully now, gently prying Theo from Armin’s arms and settling him carefully into the crib. He then turned back to Armin, hands firm on his shoulders. “You can and you *will.*”

Armin wanted to protest, but the warmth of Erwin’s hands, the steady certainty in his voice, made his resistance crumble. With a tired sigh, he allowed himself to be pulled back against the pillows, his body sinking into the mattress as Erwin’s arm curled protectively around his waist.

“I’ll listen for him,” Erwin assured, pressing a kiss to the crown of Armin’s head. “Sleep, my love.”

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Armin let himself rest—wrapped in the safety of Erwin’s embrace, their son sleeping soundly beside them, and the quiet promise that they were in this together.

This routine of theirs was an exhausting loop sleep was fleeting for both of them. The dark circles beneath their eyes had become permanent, and Erwin had taken to drinking cup after cup of strong black tea just to make it through the day. Even so, exhaustion caught up to him in the most unexpected places—council meetings.

The first time it happened, the elders had been stunned. The great King Erwin Smith, feared and respected, had actually dozed off in the middle of a discussion on trade agreements. A heavy silence filled the chamber before an elder loudly cleared his throat, startling Erwin awake. He had blinked rapidly, gripping the armrests of his chair as if he had just been caught in battle unprepared.

Levi, standing at the side of the room, raised an unimpressed brow. “Tch. If you need a nap, at least do it in a less obvious way”

The elders murmured among themselves, at first confused, but as the days passed and it became a pattern, they simply let him rest. It became an unspoken rule—if the king nodded off for a few minutes, they allowed it, treating it as an unofficial break. Eventually, Levi would step forward, a cup of tea in hand, and nudge Erwin’s arm. “Alright, Sleeping Beauty, back to work.”

Erwin groaned as he rubbed his face, shooting Levi a glare. “At least let me sleep through the boring parts.”

Levi snorted. “It’s all boring”

Meanwhile, Armin faced his own battles. Though his royal duties had lessened in the weeks following Theo’s birth, he still had to attend social gatherings. Small tea parties in the palace garden with the noblewomen were unavoidable. The duchess and the wives of the high-ranking nobles were eager to see the new queen, to discuss random things and, more importantly, to ask about the little prince.

Seated on the elegant terrace, surrounded by delicate porcelain teacups and trays of fruit-filled pastries, Armin attempted to keep up with the conversations. The noblewomen gushed over Theo, asking about his temperament, his sleeping habits, his looks—whether he resembled his father or mother more. Armin, as tired as he was, indulged them with soft smiles, recounting Theo’s little quirks.

“He’s strong-willed,” Armin admitted, sipping his tea. “And stubborn already. He won’t settle down unless I hold him.”

Lady Camilla, the wife of the Duke of Merysia, laughed gently. “That sounds like a mother’s pride speaking. My second child was the same. Clung to me like a shadow.”

Another noblewoman, Lady Eloise, reached over and patted Armin’s hand in a motherly fashion. “But you must rest too, Your Majesty. You look exhausted.”

Armin hesitated, his fingers tightening around the teacup. “I know, but… I don’t like leaving him to the maids. He’s my baby. I should be the one taking care of him.”

The women exchanged knowing looks before Duchess Camilla leaned forward. “Your Majesty, the greatest gift you can give Theo is a well-rested mother. If you exhaust yourself, he will sense it. Babies pick up on their parents’ emotions. If you are tired and anxious, he will be too.”

Armin sighed, setting his cup down. He knew they were right, but the idea of trusting someone else with Theo, even for just a few hours, filled him with unease.

Later that evening, as he sat beside Erwin, Theo nestled between them in their grand bed, he whispered, “Do you think I’m being selfish?”

Erwin, who had been rubbing slow circles into Armin’s back, paused. “For what?”

“For not letting the maids help more. For trying to do everything on my own.”

Erwin smiled, pressing a kiss to Armin’s temple. “You’re not selfish, my love. You’re just being a mother.”

Armin huffed. “I know, but… they made a good point. If I’m exhausted, Theo will feel it.”

“I mean,” Erwin teased, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but you did try to breastfeed my arm last night.”

Armin shot up, eyes wide. “I did NOT.”

Erwin chuckled, wrapping an arm around him. “You did. You mumbled something about Theo being hungry, and then you latched onto my bicep. I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or concerned.”

Armin groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Kill me now.”

Erwin grinned, kissing the top of his head. “Never. I need you alive so you can keep doing adorable things in your sleep.”

Armin glared at him, but his lips twitched. “You are the absolute worst.”

“And yet,” Erwin whispered, brushing a kiss over his cheek, “you love me anyway.”

Armin sighed, letting his head fall against Erwin’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I do.”

Theo let out a tiny sigh in his sleep, his little fingers curled against Armin’s chest. Perhaps, just perhaps, Armin could learn to trust others a little more. But for now, with their little family curled up together, he allowed himself to savor the moment—exhaustion and all.

--------------------------------------

The conversation with the duchess and the other ladies lingered in his mind, their words echoing in his thoughts. Each time Theos's cries would wake him from his sleep, they seemed to cling to him, fueling a sense of uncertainty. Maybe, just maybe, he should give it a try. After all, there was nothing to lose, right? And it wasn’t as though he would hire just anyone to care for his precious baby boy.

With that in mind, he decided to set up an interview to find the perfect nanny. "Little" meaning more than he initially anticipated—over a hundred candidates lined up, eager for a chance to be the royal nanny. Word quickly spread that the queen was looking for someone, and before long, every hopeful soul with aspirations to win his majesty's favor stormed in, each with their own expectations, eager for their shot at the role.

Armin sat in the lavish sitting room of the palace Erwin besides him , a steaming cup of tea untouched at his side, as the latest nanny candidate perched stiffly across from him. The woman, a well-dressed noble’s daughter with an impressive list of credentials, smiled nervously under his scrutiny.

Theo cooed in Armin’s arms, oblivious to the tension as he played with the fabric of his robe. Armin absentmindedly adjusted Theo’s blanket before clearing his throat and fixing the woman with a sharp, assessing gaze.

“Alright,” he began, his tone deceptively polite. “If my son suddenly starts crying at precisely 3:42 a.m. for no discernible reason, what do you do?”

The woman blinked. “I—I suppose I would check his diaper, see if he’s hungry—”

“Wrong,” Armin cut in, lips pursing. “You rock him at a forty-five-degree angle while humming exactly three verses of *The Moonlit Vale*. Any more, and he’ll be overstimulated. Any less, and he’ll start screaming again as soon as you put him down.”

The woman’s face paled. “I… see.”

Erwin, sitting beside him in what was supposed to be a *supportive silence*, barely suppressed a smirk. He had long since realized that this wasn’t just an interview process—it was a test of survival.

Armin barely let the woman recover before firing another question. “Let’s say Theo refuses to nap. You have exactly seven minutes before he reaches the overtired stage and begins wailing loud enough to wake the dead. What do you do?”

The poor woman looked like she wanted to flee. “I—I would sing to him?”

Armin inhaled deeply, shaking his head. “You would *sing* to *him*? My son? The same baby who refuses to sleep unless you walk precisely **twelve paces** around the room before sitting in the rocking chair?”

The woman stammered, looking at Erwin for help. He merely took a leisurely sip of his tea, offering no lifeline.

By the time she left, red-faced and mumbling excuses, Erwin leaned back in his chair with a chuckle. “Darling,” he mused, “if you keep this up, we’re never going to find a nanny.”

Armin huffed, bouncing Theo gently in his arms. “I just want to make sure she’s *competent*.”

“You’re asking them trick questions.”

“They’re not trick questions,” Armin argued. “They’re *Theo-related survival tactics*.”

And so the process repeated, nanny after nanny leaving the palace looking exhausted *before* even starting the job. Armin rejected them all—too stiff, too careless, too inexperienced, too *smelly* (Armin had very particular standards).

Then came *Margot*

A beta woman in her mid-forties, Margot had the kind of presence that immediately set people at ease. She had warm hazel eyes, hair pulled into a practical braid streaked with gray, and a soft but no-nonsense demeanor. She didn’t flinch under Armin’s intense questioning. She didn’t stammer or fumble her words.

And most importantly, when Theo fussed in Armin’s arms, she didn’t *ask* to hold him. She simply stepped forward and reached out her hands, waiting.

Armin hesitated, then—reluctantly—passed his son over.

The moment Theo settled against her, the baby *stopped fussing*.

Armin and Erwin both stared, stunned, as Margot began swaying gently, humming an old lullaby under her breath. Theo blinked up at her before breaking into a wide, toothless smile, his tiny fingers curling around the fabric of her sleeve.

Armin let out a slow breath.

“…You’re hired.”

Margot smiled. “I assumed as much, Your Majesty.”

The first night with Margot handling Theo’s nighttime care, **Armin and Erwin slept like the dead**.

It was unnatural, waking up to a quiet room, no cries piercing the air, no tiny hands pawing at Armin’s chest. The first time he woke up, heart pounding, he nearly bolted upright—only for Erwin’s arm to pull him back down.

“Margot has him,” Erwin mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

Armin hesitated, body rigid, but then Erwin pressed a drowsy kiss to his temple. “Sleep, love.”

For the first time in *weeks*, he did.

The next morning, Armin wandered into Theo’s nursery, feeling *human* again. What he found made him stop in the doorway.

Margot stood by the crib, **singing a ridiculous, off-key song** about a prince and his enchanted carrots. Theo, lying on his back, was absolutely *entranced*, kicking his legs excitedly as if he understood every word.

Armin leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “You sing to him?”

Margot turned, utterly unfazed. “Of course. Babies love music.”

Armin tilted his head. “He usually hates lullabies.”

Margot snorted. “That’s because you were probably singing them too *perfectly*. Babies like nonsense. Watch.”

She launched into an even **more ridiculous** verse, complete with exaggerated hand gestures. Theo let out a squeal of laughter, wiggling happily.

Erwin appeared beside Armin, watching the display with an amused smile. “She has him completely under her spell.”

Armin sighed, shaking his head but unable to hide his own fond smile. “Maybe hiring her wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

Chapter Text

Armin had spent the first few days hovering over Margot like a storm cloud, watching every move she made with Theo. But Margot was nothing if not patient. She met each of his anxieties with reassurance, answering his endless stream of questions without the slightest hint of frustration.

he stood in the nursery , watching Margot like a hawk as she carefully cradled Theo in her arms. The baby cooed, already comfortable with the middle-aged beta woman, but Armin still had a thousand questions swirling in his head.

“So, what do you usually do if he starts crying and won’t stop?” Armin asked, leaning forward slightly.

Margot, unfazed, bounced Theo gently and smiled. “Every baby is different, Your Majesty, but I’d try a few things first—checking if he’s hungry, tired, or uncomfortable. If all else fails, I have a special lullaby that’s never let me down.”

Armin narrowed his eyes. “What if he refuses to sleep even after all that?”

Margot chuckled. “Then I’ll pace the room and sing to him until he gives in. No baby has ever outlasted me.”

Armin wasn’t convinced just yet. “How do you feel about swaddling? I read that some babies don’t like it.”

Margot adjusted Theo’s blanket with practiced ease. “Swaddling can be comforting for newborns. If he doesn’t like it, we’ll find another way to help him feel secure.”

One afternoon, as Armin stood in the nursery, arms crossed, Margot gently rocked Theo, humming a soft tune. The baby, once fussy, slowly settled in her arms.

“You see, Your Majesty,” Margot said, her voice warm, “sometimes it’s just about the rhythm. Babies love repetition—it reminds them of the safety of the womb.”

Armin watched, fascinated. He had tried everything just moments ago, and yet Theo had still been restless in his arms. “So, it’s not just about holding him, but how I move?”

“Exactly.” Margot gave him a knowing look. “Here, try it.”

Hesitant, Armin stepped forward, and Margot carefully transferred Theo into his arms. She guided his movements, showing him how to gently sway, how to hum low and steady. Theo blinked sleepily up at him, his tiny fingers curling around Armin’s sleeve.

Armin exhaled, relaxing just a little. “That’s… easier than I expected.”

Margot chuckled. “It’s all about practice. And instincts. And a little patience.”

Armin looked down at Theo’s peaceful expression, something softening in his gaze. Then, without fully realizing it, he spoke. “I never really learned much about caring for babies before.”

Margot tilted her head, listening.

“As an omega, I was expected to, of course,” Armin continued, his voice quieter now. “But I was the crown prince first. My entire life was politics, diplomacy, preparing to rule. I spent more time with books and tutors than with my younger cousins. I had nannies, but I never really paid attention to what they did. I thought—back then—that I wouldn’t need to.”

Margot’s expression was understanding, not judging.

“But now,” Armin murmured, shifting Theo slightly in his arms, “everything’s different. Being married to Erwin, having Theo—it changed everything. I want to do this right. I want to be a good parent, not just a good ruler.”

Margot reached out, gently adjusting Theo’s blanket. “You already are, Your Majesty.”

Armin looked at her, uncertain.

Margot smiled. “A bad parent wouldn’t worry this much. Wouldn’t try this hard.”

Something in Armin’s chest loosened, just a little.

From that day on, Margot not only cared for Theo but also became Armin’s quiet teacher. She showed him how to burp Theo more effectively, how to get him to sleep longer stretches. She even taught Armin a few silly songs, ones that made Theo giggle whenever his mother sang to him.

Slowly, Armin found himself trusting her more. Not because he was letting go, but because she was helping him hold on and now it was way easier to connect with Theo .

Armin excused Margot wanting to spend some time with his baby boy wanting to apply and try all the things he has learnt from her .

he started to walk to his chamber not expecting any visitors since Erwin is busy catching up with the counsel and Eren is bothering Levi as usual , However .

Erwin pushed open the door to their chamber, expecting to find Armin resting, but instead, he was met with an unexpected sight—Armin, sitting cross-legged on the bed, cradling Theo in his arms, singing.

The tune was soft and lilting, but the lyrics were what nearly made Erwin choke on his own breath.

“Oh, little prince with tiny toes, Your cries shake walls, your voice it grows. But hush now, darling, don’t you fret, Or Papa Erwin might just regret~ Giving you sweets when you get old, Running amok, so fierce and bold. But hush, my love, sleep sweet and sound, Mama’s arms will keep you bound.”

Erwin clamped a hand over his mouth, shaking with suppressed laughter. The sheer absurdity of the lyrics paired with Armin’s gentle, heartfelt voice was too much to bear.

Armin, completely unaware of his husband’s presence, continued his impromptu lullaby, shifting Theo slightly in his arms as the baby cooed and yawned, barely keeping his eyes open.

“You wake at dawn, you scream, you shout, Till all the maids are running about. Yet still we love you, oh yes, we do, Even when we haven’t slept since noon. But hush, my prince, just close your eyes, No biting toes, no swatting flies. Dream of books and things that shine, And please let Mama sleep till nine.”

Erwin couldn’t hold it in any longer. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, betraying his presence. Armin stiffened, his song abruptly cutting off as he turned wide, embarrassed eyes toward the doorway.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, his voice a mixture of amusement and horror.

“Long enough to know that I ‘might just regret’ giving Theo sweets,” Erwin teased, stepping inside, his arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

Armin huffed, cheeks flushing a deep pink as he turned his gaze down to Theo, who was now peacefully asleep, oblivious to the playful humiliation his mother was suffering. “I didn’t think you’d hear that part.”

“I heard every word, love,” Erwin said, approaching the bed and lowering himself beside them. He reached out, brushing a few strands of golden hair from Armin’s face, his fingers lingering against his cheek. “And I have to say, your songwriting skills are… unparalleled.”

Armin groaned, burying his face in Theo’s soft blankets. “I was just singing nonsense to him! like Margot had suggested plus It’s not like I planned to perform.”

Erwin chuckled, leaning down to kiss the crown of Armin’s head. “Well, nonsense or not, it worked. He’s fast asleep.”

Armin peeked up at Theo and sighed, a gentle, tired smile curving his lips. “I guess so.”

Erwin pulled back and sat upright, stretching slightly before turning toward the door. “Let me call Margot. She can put Theo in his crib, and you and I can go outside for a bit.”

Armin immediately frowned, his protective instincts flaring up. “But he just fell asleep. What if he—”

“Margot knows what she’s doing, love,” Erwin interrupted gently, squeezing Armin’s knee reassuringly. “You trust her, don’t you?”

Armin hesitated but then nodded. Over the past few weeks, Margot had proven herself to be an incredibly capable nanny. She handled Theo with patience and expertise, teaching Armin small tricks along the way—like how to tell the difference between a hunger cry and a sleepy one, or how to soothe Theo without immediately picking him up. Bit by bit, Armin had come to rely on her, though the urge to be by Theo’s side every second of the day still lingered.

“I do,” he admitted softly.

“Then let’s take a little break,” Erwin murmured, his voice coaxing, soothing. “Just a short walk outside, you and me.”

Margot arrived moments later, smiling warmly as she scooped Theo up with practiced ease. “Go on, Your Majesties,” she urged. “The little one is in safe hands.”

Armin hesitated for only a second longer before sighing and allowing Erwin to pull him to his feet. As they stepped out onto the palace balcony, the crisp night air kissed their skin, the distant hum of the city’s lantern-lit streets a comforting murmur beneath them.

For the first time in weeks, they stood together, just the two of them, under the stars.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” Erwin said, wrapping his arms around Armin from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

Armin exhaled, sinking into the embrace. “It is,” he admitted. Then, after a pause, he added, “But I’m still going to check on Theo the second we go back inside.”

Erwin chuckled, pressing a kiss to Armin’s temple. “I never expected anything less.”

**"Before we go back, let’s take a small walk. I have a surprise for you,"** Erwin said, his voice laced with quiet excitement, his fingers threading gently through Armin’s as he led him down the dimly lit palace corridors.

Armin tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his ocean-blue eyes, but he allowed himself to be guided, their steps muffled by the plush carpets. The torches along the walls burned low, casting long shadows that danced as they passed.

A cool breeze greeted them as they stepped into the moonlit gardens. The night air was rich with the scent of roses and damp earth, and above them, the stars shimmered like scattered diamonds against the velvet sky. Crickets hummed softly, a quiet symphony filling the tranquil night.

Erwin didn’t speak as he guided Armin further, his grip firm yet tender, his pulse steady against Armin’s wrist. They walked past the marble fountain, past the grove of cypress trees, until they reached an archway veiled in ivy. A lantern flickered ahead, casting a golden glow over the glass structure standing beyond it.

Armin froze. His breath caught in his throat.

Before him stood a breathtaking greenhouse, its glass walls glistening under the moonlight, reflecting the stars like a celestial dream. The doors stood slightly ajar, as if inviting him in, and within, a myriad of colors bloomed—rows upon rows of flowers he hadn’t seen in what felt like years. Marlayan flowers. Their delicate petals stretched toward the light, their scents curling in the air, unmistakable and achingly familiar.

**"Erwin…"** Armin’s voice trembled, his fingers lifting to cover his mouth. His heart pounded in his chest.

Erwin stepped behind him, wrapping his arms around Armin’s waist and pulling him close. His breath was warm against Armin’s ear as he murmured, **"You told me once that you missed the flowers of Marlay. And the fruits. So I had them brought here. Grown here."**

Armin turned in his hold, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. **"You… built this? For me?"** His voice barely rose above a whisper, thick with disbelief.

Erwin nodded, his thumb brushing away a tear that spilled down Armin’s cheek. **"I started the moment I knew you were carrying our child. I wanted you to have a piece of home, no matter how far you were from it."**

The depth of his love, the sheer devotion in every petal, every leaf—Armin felt it all, sinking into his bones like warmth on a winter’s night.

Armin’s arms curled around Erwin’s neck as he pressed himself close, the scent of roses and earth wrapping around them. **"It’s perfect,"** he whispered against Erwin’s chest, his fingers clutching at the fabric of his coat. **"You’re perfect."**

Erwin held him tighter, pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of his head. **"Only because you love me."**

Armin pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, his lips parting in a breathless smile before he leaned in, brushing a kiss—soft, slow, and full of quiet devotion—against Erwin’s lips.

**"Thank you,"** he whispered against his mouth. **"For everything."**

And as Erwin kissed him back, beneath the glow of the lanterns and the embrace of the Marlayan flowers, Armin knew—he was home.

Erwin watched with quiet amusement as Armin darted forward, his fingers skimming over the petals of a soft lavender bloom. The greenhouse was warm, filled with the faint hum of life, the scent of Marlayan soil mingling with the fresh night air seeping through the vents.

Armin turned to him, eyes alight with wonder. "This… this is a Cloud Lily! I haven’t seen one since I was a child!" He crouched slightly, cupping the flower with delicate reverence. "My grandfather the king used to say that if you whispered a wish to it at sunrise, it would carry your hopes into the wind."

Erwin smirked. "Did you ever test that theory?"

Armin huffed a small laugh. "Of course! Every morning, I'd sneak outside and whisper ridiculous wishes. One time, I wished for an entire cake to myself. A week later, the cook made one, and I was convinced it worked."

Erwin chuckled, folding his arms. "And here I thought you were always a logical child."

Armin shot him a playful glare before his eyes landed on another flower—bright golden petals curling into themselves like a spiral. He gasped, grabbing Erwin’s sleeve. "Wait, you even have Sun Pearls?!"

"If I’m correct, those were a nightmare to grow," Erwin mused. "Our gardeners nearly lost their minds trying to get the soil conditions right."

Armin laughed, brushing his fingers against the petals. "These were my mother’s favorites. She used to weave them into my hair when I was little. Said they’d bring warmth even in the coldest winters." He hesitated, smiling to himself. "I remember running around with them all day, and at night, they’d be so tangled I’d cry when she tried to comb them out."

Erwin's chest tightened at the sight of Armin's fond expression he knew that his beloved had lost both his parents at a very young age . He had known this would make Armin happy, but seeing it firsthand—the way he lit up, the way he touched every flower like it was a piece of home—made every moment of secrecy worth it.

Then, suddenly, Armin gasped again, rushing toward a tree. "No way. No way. Erwin, do you have a knife?!"

Erwin blinked. "Why do I feel like that’s a dangerous question?"

"Just trust me! A knife!" Armin was practically bouncing on his heels.

Erwin sighed, reaching into his coat and pulling out a small pocket blade, handing it over with a bemused expression. Armin immediately reached for a ripe orange hanging from a branch, slicing it cleanly in half.

Erwin expected the usual bright orange flesh—but instead, the inside was deep red, like freshly spilled wine.

He stared. "What in the—"

Armin burst out laughing at his expression. "This is a Blood Orange! They only grow in Marlay! You thought it was a regular one, didn’t you?"

Erwin exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "You’re telling me I smuggled a fruit across nations without knowing it bleeds?"

Armin grinned mischievously. "Looks like you just committed agricultural treason, Your Majesty."

Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting a smile. "If anyone asks, I had no idea what I was doing."

Armin giggled before handing Erwin a slice. "Here. Taste it."

Erwin took a tentative bite, his eyebrows raising as the tart, sweet flavor spread across his tongue. "…This is good."

Armin smirked. "Good enough to break international laws for?"

Erwin gave him a dry look but nudged him playfully. "Let’s not test that theory."

They spent the next hour wandering through the greenhouse, Armin sharing story after story—how he used to braid vines into crowns, how certain flowers only bloomed when sung to, how he once tried to grow a Marlayan melon in a clay pot and nearly flooded his childhood home.

Erwin simply listened, captivated by the joy in Armin’s voice, the way he gestured animatedly, the way his laughter filled every corner of the greenhouse.

And when Armin finally turned to him, face flushed from excitement, hands slightly stained with citrus juice, Erwin couldn’t help but cup his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his citrus flavored lips .

"I’m glad," he murmured. "That I could give you this."

Armin melted into him, resting his head against Erwin’s chest. "You always give me more than I could ever ask for."

Erwin smiled, wrapping his arms around him. "That’s the goal, my love."

------------------------------------------------------------

Things weren't always that filled with love and intimacy between the two .

The tension in the palace had been building for days, each interaction between Erwin and Armin laced with unspoken frustration. the unresolved stress from ruling a kingdom, parenting, and their personal insecurities had widened the rift.

And Theodore’s teething pain only made everything worse.

For nights on end, their 6 month old son had been inconsolable. The wails rang through the palace halls, raw and unrelenting, leaving everyone on edge. Armin had barely slept, spending his nights rocking Theo in his arms, rubbing his gums, and trying every remedy the palace physicians suggested. Erwin, too, had been struggling, balancing his royal duties while trying to be there for both his son and his exhausted husband. But their patience was wearing thin, and the exhaustion turned into sharp words and bitter silences.

The breaking point came during dinner.

Armin sat at the head of the table, Theo in his arms, the baby’s small face red from crying. Erwin was late—again. When he finally entered, his face was weary, his shoulders slumped, his eyes clouded with stress.

“You’re late again,” Armin said sharply, his voice tight with frustration. He didn’t even look up as he bounced Theo gently, trying to soothe him.

Erwin sighed, taking his seat. “The council meeting ran over. You know how these things go.”

Armin let out a humorless laugh, his exhaustion making his patience nonexistent. “Oh, I *know* how these things go, alright. They go exactly the same way every single day. And somehow, you always have time for them, but not for your own son.”

Erwin bristled. “That’s not fair. I *am* here. I’m doing everything I can for both of you.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t feel like it.” Armin’s voice rose, his blue eyes flashing. “I’ve been here, night after night, trying to comfort our screaming son while you disappear into meetings! You don’t even know how hard this has been, Erwin! You don’t *see* it.”

“I don’t see it?” Erwin’s voice sharpened. “You think I don’t hear him crying every night? That I don’t *want* to help? I have a duty, Armin. I can’t just abandon the kingdom because our child is teething!”

Armin scoffed, shaking his head. “No, of course not. But you *can* abandon us.”

Erwin’s jaw tightened. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“That’s exactly what’s happening!” Armin snapped, standing abruptly. “I know ruling a kingdom is demanding, but that doesn’t mean you get to shut me out! I am not just your consort, Erwin! I am your *husband!* Your *partner!* Your * Queen * And right now, I feel like neither!”

Erwin stood as well, his frustration reaching its breaking point. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I *want* to be away from you? I am doing everything I can to make sure our son has a future! But you—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “You act like I’m the enemy when I’m just trying to keep us afloat.”

“I act like the enemy?” Armin repeated, his voice trembling. “I have spent every waking moment trying to be a good mother, a good ruler, and a good partner to you, Erwin. And yet, I’m still not enough, am I?”

Theodore let out another high-pitched wail, his tiny fists clenching at Armin’s hair , but neither of them moved. They were too caught in their storm.

“You’re enough, Armin,” Erwin said, his voice quiet but strained. “You just want too much from me.”

The words were out before he could stop them. The moment they hung in the air, he regretted them.

Armin flinched as if struck. He looked down at Theodore, his face pale, his expression wounded. Then, he took a shaky breath and whispered, “Get out.”

Erwin’s stomach dropped. “Armin—”

“*Get out!*” Armin shouted, his voice cracking with emotion.

Erwin stared at him for a long moment, guilt and anger warring within him. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, the heavy doors of the dining hall slamming shut behind him.

Erwin didn’t return to their chambers that night. Instead, he rode out of the palace, seeking solace in the quiet of the countryside. The cool night air did little to ease the storm raging in his chest. He replayed the argument over and over, each word cutting deeper.

He’d hurt Armin, the person he loved most in the world. And worse, he didn’t know how to make it right.

Armin spent the night in their chambers, their son still fussing despite the exhaustion weighing him down. He sat by the cradle, running his fingers through Theodore’s fine blonde hair, his tears falling silently.

“I know, my love,” he murmured, kissing the baby’s forehead. “I know it hurts.”

But deep down, he wasn’t just talking about Theodore’s teething pain.

Morning came, but Erwin didn’t. The palace buzzed with whispers of the king’s absence, the staff treading carefully around their queen, who carried himself with a fragile dignity despite the turmoil inside.

Armin threw himself into his duties, using work as a distraction. But every time he passed the council chambers or saw Theodore’s innocent smile, he felt the weight of Erwin’s absence all the more.

Erwin, meanwhile, remained in the countryside, grappling with his guilt and longing. He knew he couldn’t stay away forever. He needed to return—not just for the kingdom, but for Armin. For their family.

It was three days before Erwin returned to the palace. When he did, he found Armin in the nursery, cradling their son. The sight stopped him in his tracks, the weight of his love and regret crashing over him.

“Armin,” he said softly.

Armin looked up, his expression unreadable. “You’re back.”

“I’m sorry,” Erwin said, stepping closer. “For everything. For the things I said, for leaving. I was wrong.”

Armin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes glistening. “You hurt me, Erwin. More than I ever thought you could.”

“I know,” Erwin whispered. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

For a moment, there was only silence. Then Armin stood, their son still in his arms, and closed the distance between them.

“I love you, Erwin,” he said. “But we can’t keep doing this. We need to lean on each other—not push each other away.”

Erwin nodded, his hands trembling as he cupped Armin’s face. “I’ll do better. I swear it.”

As Theodore whimpered between them, Erwin wrapped his arms around his family. No matter the hardships, their love was worth fighting for. And this time, they would fight *together.*

Chapter Text

The palace had finally settled after weeks of restless nights. Theo’s teething pain was gone, leaving behind a bright-eyed, curious baby with two tiny pearly teeth that had become his pride and joy. He no longer fussed in the dead of night, no longer whimpered against Armin’s chest while rubbing his aching gums against his father’s tunic. Instead, he had found a new way to use them—by biting *everything* in sight.

It started in the early morning, when the royal chambers were still bathed in soft golden light. Armin had woken first, as he always did, feeling the gentle weight of Theo curled against his side. The baby had managed to wriggle free from his bassinet at some point in the night, seeking the warmth of his parents. His tiny fingers were curled in the fabric of Armin’s nightshirt, his mouth slightly open, revealing his new little teeth.

Armin smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss to his son’s golden curls before shifting just enough to stretch. That slight movement must have disturbed Theo, because before Armin could react, he felt a *sharp* little pinch at his arm.

“Ah—Theo!”

A soft, sleepy giggle followed, and Armin turned to see Theo looking up at him with innocent blue eyes, his tiny mouth still latched onto his forearm. His bite wasn’t strong, just a gentle pressure—but it *was* teeth.

“Oh, so *this* is what we’re doing now?” Armin teased, rubbing at the faint mark Theo had left.

Theo, delighted by his father’s reaction, kicked his little legs and giggled again before attempting another bite. Armin dodged him with a laugh, scooping the baby up into his arms.

“That’s not how we show love, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing his nose against Theo’s.

Theo only let out a happy babble, gripping Armin’s face with his tiny hands before stuffing one of his own fists into his mouth.

Erwin stirred beside them, groaning softly. “Why are you both awake so early?”

Armin grinned, nudging his husband’s arm. “Your son has discovered his teeth.”

Erwin cracked one eye open just in time to see Theo’s bright little grin—two tiny, milky incisors peeking through.

“Ah,” he sighed, sitting up and running a hand through his messy blond hair. “So the teething phase is over, and the *biting* phase has begun.”

Theo took that moment to lunge forward and, with perfect timing, clamp his tiny teeth *right* onto Erwin’s shoulder.

Erwin froze.

Armin’s laughter filled the room as Erwin slowly pulled Theo away, staring at his son in sheer disbelief. Theo, completely unbothered, simply blinked up at him before breaking into another heart-melting grin.

“Oh no,” Erwin muttered, rubbing at his shoulder. “Not you too.”

Armin wiped at his eyes, still breathless from laughing. “I think we have a little lion on our hands.”

Erwin sighed dramatically but couldn’t hide the amused glint in his eyes. He placed a kiss on Theo’s forehead, then another on Armin’s temple. “We’re in for trouble.”

By midday, word had already spread through the palace—Prince Theo had his first teeth, and he was *using* them.

Margot had come to visit, as she often did, eager to see the little one now that he was feeling better. When she stepped into the nursery, she found Armin sitting in the plush rocking chair, Theo nestled comfortably in his lap, gnawing intently on a wooden teething toy.

“Oh, *finally*,” Margot cooed, making her way over. “My sweet little lion has his first fangs.”

Armin laughed. “Don’t encourage him Margot.”

But Theo, recognizing his nanny's voice, perked up immediately. He dropped his toy with an excited squeal and reached out, tiny hands grasping at the air.

Margot melted instantly. “Oh, *come here,* love.” She scooped him up, pressing a flurry of kisses to his cheeks. “How’s my favorite prince? Feeling better?”

Theo gurgled happily, but before Margot could fully process it, she felt a sharp little pinch at the side of her hand.

“Ow—!” She pulled back just enough to see Theo grinning up at her, his little teeth leaving the faintest of imprints on her skin.

Armin clapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Margot raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Oh, *you little rascal.* That’s *how* you greet your only nanny”

Theo, oblivious, only giggled, stuffing his fingers into his mouth as if to show off his accomplishment.

Margot sighed, shaking her head before pressing her forehead against his. “You’re lucky you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Armin grinned. “I warned you.”

Margot huffed, cradling Theo closer. “Well, I still love you—even if you’re part *piranha.*”

Over the next few days, the nursery staff began noticing small, telltale marks on unexpected surfaces. The edge of Theo’s crib had faint little indents, evidence of where the baby had tried to gnaw at the wood. His favorite plush bear had a suspiciously damp ear. Even the corner of Erwin’s desk had a tiny, near-invisible imprint.

“Theo,” Armin sighed one afternoon as he caught the baby attempting to bite the sleeve of his tunic. “Darling, we *do not* eat clothing.”

Theo blinked up at him, big blue eyes full of mischief, before launching himself at Armin’s wrist.

Armin dodged just in time, sweeping him up and twirling him in the air. “Nope! Not happening!”

The baby shrieked with laughter, his tiny hands reaching for his father’s face instead.

At that moment, Erwin walked in, watching the scene unfold with his arms crossed. “Has he gotten you yet?”

Armin grinned, breathless. “Not today.”

Erwin smirked. “Impressive. He’s gotten *me* twice already.”

Margot, who had been lounging nearby, held up her hand. “Three times for me.”

Armin laughed, pressing Theo close. “Well, it seems our son has left his mark on all of us.”

Erwin walked over, placing a gentle hand on Theo’s back. “That he has,” he murmured, his voice warm. He leaned down, brushing his lips over Armin’s own lips before pressing a lingering kiss to Theo’s soft curls.

Theo, tired from all the excitement, let out a tiny yawn and nestled against Armin’s chest, his little hand clutching at Erwin’s sleeve.

“Maybe our little lion is finally worn out,” Margot whispered.

Armin smiled, swaying gently. “For now.”

The room fell into a peaceful silence, filled only with the baby’s soft breaths and the steady rhythm of their love.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The gardens glowed under a gentle embrace of golden light, casting long, dappled shadows across the winding stone paths. Flowers swayed lazily, their petals kissed by the sun’s warmth, while the leaves shimmered with a delicate, honeyed radiance. The air carried the gentle scent of roses, lavender, and fresh earth, mingling with the distant chatter of birds. Armin walked leisurely along the stone path, cradling Theo in his arms.

He had made a habit of talking to Theo often—whispering sweet nothings to him as he rocked him to sleep, narrating his day while feeding him, and simply telling him how deeply he was loved. Even if Theo couldn’t respond with words just yet, Armin knew he was absorbing everything. His bright blue eyes always followed his mother’s lips with fascination, and he often babbled back in his own little language.

But today felt different.

“You see this one, love?” Armin stopped by a delicate pink blossom, lowering Theo just enough so his tiny nose could brush against the petals. “This is a camellia. They bloom beautifully in the spring.”

Theo, wide-eyed and curious, let out a tiny hum before gripping a handful of Armin’s tunic with his chubby fingers. His little nose wrinkled as he processed the unfamiliar scent.

Armin chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to Theo’s temple before moving to the next flower. “And this one here is lavender. It helps you sleep, you know? Maybe we should keep some near your crib.”

Theo let out an inquisitive coo, reaching out clumsily toward the flower before turning his head toward Armin.

Armin smiled. “You like that one, don’t you? It’s one of my favorites, too.”

They continued like that for a while, stopping at every vibrant bloom, Armin taking the time to introduce Theo to the beauty surrounding them. He spoke gently, as if explaining the secrets of the world to his little boy.

Then, as they reached a patch of white jasmine, Theo suddenly squirmed in Armin’s arms, his tiny hands grasping at his mother’s collar.

Armin tilted his head in amusement. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Theo blinked up at him, his expression serious, almost as if he was concentrating. His lips moved clumsily before he took a small breath and, in the softest, most delicate voice—

“Mama.”

Armin froze.

The world around him seemed to blur, the sounds of the garden melting into nothing as his heart pounded. He stared at Theo, lips parted, breath catching in his throat.

Theo blinked, tilting his head. “Mama.”

Armin gasped, a wide, teary smile breaking across his face. “Oh, Theo—” He pressed a trembling hand to his mouth, overwhelmed by a rush of love so deep it left him breathless.

Theo giggled at his father’s reaction, reaching out to grab his face with his tiny hands. “Mama!”

Armin laughed, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed his forehead against Theo’s. “That’s right, sweetheart. Mama’s here.”

He held his son tighter, swaying gently as his heart swelled with warmth.

Armin barely had time to process what had just happened before he was running.

Theo—his precious, golden-haired, chubby-cheeked baby—had just said his first word. And not just any word. Mama.

“Oh, Erwin has to hear this.”

Theo giggled as Armin practically sprinted out of the garden, holding him securely in his arms. The palace staff barely had time to bow before their queen zoomed past, his golden hair a blur. Theo, delighted by the sudden movement, clapped his hands together, babbling happily.

Then, in the distance—the council chamber doors.

They were closed.

But that wasn’t going to stop him.

With the confidence of a man on a mission, Armin slammed them open with both hands, the doors swinging inward with a dramatic BANG.

The entire council erupted in panic.

One noble jumped so hard his wig nearly flew off. Another let out a strangled noise as he choked on his own breath. Papers scattered across the grand wooden table, and an elderly member actually yelped, clutching his chest.

At the center of the chaos sat Erwin, his quill frozen mid-signature, blinking as his very determined wife stormed in, grinning like a madman.

Armin didn’t even glance at the council. He strode right up to his husband, lifted Theo proudly into the air, and declared at full volume—

“ERWIN, OUR SON SAID HIS FIRST WORD!”

Silence.

Theo, as if on cue, looked at his father with wide, sparkling blue eyes and, in the sweetest voice imaginable, chirped—

“Mama!”

Another silence.

A noble made a sound like a dying goose.

Someone dropped their quill.

Erwin stared.

Then, all at once, his chair scraped back, and he leapt to his feet. “He did?!”

Before Armin could answer, Erwin was already reaching for Theo, his massive hands lifting the baby from Armin’s arms as if he were the most precious treasure in the world.

“You said your first word?” Erwin gasped, holding Theo up at eye level, his expression melting into pure, unfiltered joy. “Say it again, little one—say it for Dada!”

Theo, absolutely loving the attention, grabbed a fistful of Erwin’s sleeve, beamed at him, and proudly declared—

“Mama!”

Erwin froze.

The council froze.

Armin wheezed.

For a solid three seconds, Erwin just stood there, staring at his son in absolute shock. Then, in a slow, careful voice, he repeated—

“…Mama?”

Theo clapped his hands and squealed, as if rewarding his father for catching on. “Mama!”

Erwin blinked. Then blinked again.

And then he exploded with laughter.

“Oh-hoh, this is fantastic!” he roared, throwing his head back as he cradled Theo against his chest. “My own son—my own blood—has given me the greatest honor of all!” He turned to Armin, eyes twinkling with unrestrained amusement. “I’m Mama now!”

Armin, doubled over, could barely breathe. “Congratulations, my love. You have officially been promoted.”

Erwin, still laughing, lifted Theo high into the air again, pressing a smothering kiss to his chubby cheek. “Mama loves you very much, my brilliant little prince.”

Theo squealed in delight, flailing his tiny arms. “Mama!”

The councilmen, still in various states of bewilderment, exchanged panicked looks. Was this… a good thing? Was the king pleased? What were they supposed to do?!

Then, one unfortunate soul, clearly desperate to not upset their majesties, began clapping.

Another noble hesitantly joined.

Then another.

And suddenly, the entire council chamber was filled with the awkward, yet determined applause of old men clapping for the heir to the throne calling his father Mama.

Theo, absolutely thrilled by the unexpected audience participation, giggled and clapped with them.

Armin lost it. He had to clutch the table for support, his laughter borderline hysterical.

Erwin, practically glowing, turned back to his very formal, very uncomfortable council and beamed. “You see, gentlemen? My son is a genius.”

One noble, looking like he wanted to cry, nodded rapidly. “O-Of course, Your Majesty! A genius indeed!”

Another, dabbing sweat from his brow, stammered, “T-Truly… a remarkable display of early intelligence!”

Erwin grinned. “I knew you would all understand.”

Theo, encouraged by the clapping and his father’s clear delight, reached for Erwin’s face with his tiny hands, patted his cheek, and chirped once more—

“Mama!”

Erwin beamed. “That’s right! Say it loud, my son!”

Armin, still recovering from his laughter, wiped his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t think he’s stopping anytime soon.”

“I hope not,” Erwin said, hugging Theo closer. “I will wear the title of Mama with pride.”

And with that, in the middle of a room full of confused, exhausted, and emotionally shaken noblemen, Erwin stood tall, his son still in his arms, while Armin doubled over in wheezing laughter.

The royal council session, as far as anyone was concerned, was officially adjourned.

--------------------------------------------------------

The royal activity room was a haven of warmth that afternoon, bathed in golden sunlight spilling through the tall windows. The air was thick with the comforting scent of tea and freshly baked sweets, mingling with the soft rustle of curtains stirred by a lazy breeze. Plush cushions and polished wood gleamed under the sun’s gentle touch, wrapping the space in a cozy, golden embrace.

Erwin sat comfortably in a large, cushioned chair, his brows furrowed in concentration as he flipped through the pages of a thick book. His long legs were crossed at the ankle, his posture relaxed. Across from him, Armin sat on a plush loveseat, a plate of delicate pastries on the table beside him, happily munching on a small fruit tart.

And in the center of the room, Margot was hard at work.

"Come on, my little lion," she coaxed, kneeling on the carpet with her hands outstretched. "You can do this. Just a few steps, and you’ll be walking in no time."

Theo, chubby little hands gripping the side of the table for balance, stared at her with wide blue eyes. His tiny feet shifted hesitantly against the plush rug. He had been trying for weeks, his determination growing with each failed attempt. Today, however, Margot had a feeling.

Today was the day.

"Alright, my boy," she said with a confident nod. "Let’s show your parents what you’re made of."

Armin, licking a bit of sugar from his fingertips, glanced over and smiled. "He’s getting better at standing on his own."

Erwin turned a page in his book, only half-listening. "Of course he is. He’s our son."

Margot rolled her eyes. "Oh, Your Majesty, I would love to see you take credit for this when I’ve been the one working with him every day—"

She was cut off by a sudden wobble.

Theo’s tiny fingers unclenched from the table.

Margot froze.

Theo sucked in a dramatic little breath, scrunched his nose in concentration—

And then, with all the strength his tiny body could muster—

He lifted his foot.

Margot’s eyes widened. "Oh."

Then the other foot moved.

"Oh."

Armin, mid-bite into another pastry, gasped so hard he nearly choked. "Erwin—!"

Erwin, still reading, hummed absently. "Mm?"

"HE’S WALKING!"

Erwin’s book flew out of his hands.

Margot barely had time to process before the king launched himself from his chair with all the force of a battlefield charge.

Armin nearly flipped the entire pastry plate over in his scramble to stand.

And in the middle of the chaos, Theo took another step.

Then another.

Then another.

Margot let out a delighted laugh. "That’s it, my boy! Keep going!"

Erwin, looking completely wrecked with pride, was vibrating where he stood. "Armin, he’s—"

"I KNOW," Armin practically shrieked, grabbing Erwin’s arm.

Theo took one last wobbly step, reaching toward them—

And then plopped right down onto his bottom.

For a single, suspended moment, silence filled the room.

Theo blinked.

Then, as if realizing what he had just accomplished—he let out an excited squeal.

That was all Erwin needed.

With absolutely no dignity, the King of Eldia rushed forward and scooped Theo into his arms, lifting him high above his head. "MY BOY! MY STRONG, BRAVE BOY!"

Theo giggled wildly, kicking his legs as Armin crowded in, pressing urgent kisses all over his son’s chubby cheeks. "Theo, that was amazing! You walked! You really walked!"

Margot, standing off to the side, dusted off her sleeves with a proud smirk. "Told you he was ready."

Erwin turned to her, eyes shining. "Margot, you will be rewarded for this."

Margot raised a brow. "I am rewarded. I get to witness this chaos firsthand."

Erwin, still holding Theo high, turned back to his son with pure, unfiltered joy. "My darling boy, you have taken your first steps. This is a momentous occasion! We must celebrate! Armin, summon the royal kitchen—prepare a feast!"

Armin snorted. "Erwin, love, I don’t think Theo cares about a feast."

"Nonsense! Our son has walked! The whole kingdom should know!"

Armin crossed his arms. "If you throw a parade for this, I swear—"

But he was cut off by Theo, who reached out, smacked Erwin’s cheek with a tiny hand, and chirped, "Dada!"

Erwin froze.

You said Dada!" Erwin’s voice was so full of emotion that it nearly cracked. "Oh, my strong, brilliant son!" He smothered Theo in kisses, pressing them all over his chubby cheeks. "Say it again, my love—say it again!"

Theo, now realizing this was great fun, giggled and patted Erwin’s face. "Dada!"

Erwin let out a victorious laugh, spinning around in pure elation. "Dada, he said Dada! Armin, do you understand what has just happened?! This is—this is the greatest moment of my life!"

Armin, still trying to recover, finally swallowed his pastry. He wiped a crumb from his lip, watching his husband practically ascend with happiness. "I know, love, I heard! He’s so smart—"

Erwin turned back to Theo, eyes shining. "Say it one more time, my darling, just for your old man—"

Theo, very pleased with himself, smacked Erwin’s chest and chirped, "Dada!"

Erwin gasped dramatically, as if his heart had physically burst from love. "That’s it. I am officially the happiest man alive. Armin, we need to celebrate. Should we throw a banquet? Summon the court? Commission a statue?"

Armin snorted, shaking his head. "Erwin, my love, he just learned one word—"

"—The most important word!" Erwin declared. He turned back to Theo, clutching him tightly. "Dada. My boy, you are brilliant. You’re a genius! A prodigy! A future king of words!"

Theo giggled again, clearly enjoying the attention. He reached out his arms toward Armin.

Armin smiled, taking Theo from Erwin’s grasp and pressing a kiss to his soft curls.

Erwin then, very softly, he whispered, "I have won at life."

Margot sighed. Armin laughed.

And Theo, delighted by all the excitement, clapped his hands together—completely unaware that his parents would be talking about this moment for the rest of eternity.

------------------------------------------------------------

The morning air was crisp and sweet, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers and damp earth as Armin led Theodore through the winding palace gardens. At just two years old, Theodore was a bright, curious little boy, his wide blue eyes constantly darting from one fascinating thing to another.

He had inherited Armin’s boundless thirst for knowledge and Erwin’s natural confidence, making him a force of nature despite his small size. He was a boy of endless questions and even bolder actions—always wanting to climb, taste, and experience things firsthand rather than simply be told about them.

“Where are we going today, Mama?” Theodore asked, his tiny hand wrapped around Armin’s fingers as he skipped beside him, his soft golden curls bouncing with each step. “Are we gonna see the big trees again?”

Armin smiled down at him. “Not today, my love. Today, I’m taking you somewhere special—the greenhouse.”

Theodore gasped, his excitement bubbling over. “Greenhouse! Like the one with all the glass?”

“Yes,” Armin chuckled. “The one with all the glass.”

The palace greenhouse was a sprawling structure of intricate ironwork and shimmering panes, standing tall amidst the lush royal gardens. It was one of Armin’s favorite places—a space teeming with life, filled with plants and flowers from marly and across the world, some gifted by visiting diplomats over the time , others carefully cultivated by the royal gardeners when Erwin originally gifted him the greenhouse . He had spent many peaceful afternoons there, reading and tending to delicate plants, but today, it would be Theodore’s classroom.

As they stepped inside, warm, fragrant air enveloped them, thick with the mingling scents of soil, fruit, and blooming flora. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting golden patterns across the stone pathway.

Theodore inhaled deeply and scrunched his nose. “It smells… funny.”

Armin laughed. “That’s the smell of nature, little one. The earth, the plants, the fruit… everything here is alive and growing.”

Theodore’s eyes widened as he took in the vibrant greens, reds, and oranges of various fruits hanging from their vines. Butterflies flitted near clusters of flowers, and small fountains trickled softly in the distance.

“Can I touch?” Theodore asked, already reaching out toward a thick, glossy leaf.

Armin gently guided his hand. “Some plants don’t like to be touched too much, but these—” he pointed to a cluster of herbs “—are fine. Go ahead.”

Theodore’s little fingers brushed over the leaves, giggling at the ticklish texture. Then his gaze shifted to a cluster of round, golden fruits hanging low from a vine.

“What’s that?” he asked, tugging at Armin’s sleeve.

Armin knelt beside him. “That’s called a Marlean Sunfruit. It comes from Marley.”

“Marley?” Theodore repeated, tilting his head. “That’s where the big ships come from, right?'' , His bright blue eyes wide with curiosity. “Mama! You came from Marly too, right?”

Armin smiled, smoothing down Theo’s messy curls. “That’s right, my love. I was born and raised there!”

Theo gasped dramatically, as if making a grand discovery. “Then—then why did you come to Eldia? Was it for Papa?”

Armin chuckled, tapping Theo’s tiny nose. “Mhm! That’s also right, my love. Because I loved your Papa soooo much!”

Theo giggled, wiggling happily in place. “Like—like super duper much?”

Armin nodded, scooping Theo into his arms and peppering his face with kisses. “Super duper, extra mega much!”

Theo shrieked with laughter, kicking his little legs. “That’s a LOT of love, Mama!”

Armin smiled, brushing his son’s hair back fondly. “ Would you like to try one of the Marlean Sunfruit Theo ?”

Theodore nodded enthusiastically

so Armin plucked one from the vine and carefully peeled back its skin, revealing the soft, juicy flesh inside. He handed a small piece to Theodore, who took it with the same serious concentration he applied to all new experiences.

The little boy popped the fruit into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Then, he made a face.

“It’s weird,” he announced, nose scrunching. “Kinda sweet… but also not.”

Armin laughed. “That’s because it’s slightly tart. You don’t like it?”

Theodore thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Not really.”

“Well, that’s okay,” Armin said, ruffling his curls. “Everyone has different tastes. Here, let’s try something else.”

They moved from plant to plant, with Armin explaining each one in vivid detail, while Theodore eagerly touched, sniffed, and sampled the fruits he was allowed to. Some, like the honeyed eldian pears, made him grin with delight, while others, like the bitter Marlean citrus, had him sticking out his tongue dramatically.

At one point, he grabbed a bright red berry and turned to Armin with sparkling eyes. “Mama, what about this one?”

Armin’s hand shot out, catching his wrist before the berry could reach his lips. “Not that one, love. That one isn’t safe to eat.”

Theodore blinked up at him. “Why?”

“Some plants look delicious, but they can make you very sick,” Armin explained. “That’s why you should always ask first.”

Theodore nodded, solemn as a scholar, absorbing the lesson like a sponge. Then, as quickly as his serious moment had come, his curiosity flared up again.

“Can we take some of the good fruits to Papa?” he asked eagerly. “I think he’ll like the sweet ones.”

Armin’s heart warmed at the thought. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

They gathered a small basket of Theodore-approved fruits, and with one last look around the greenhouse, they made their way back toward the palace. Theodore chattered excitedly the whole way, his little mind already full of questions for next time.

That evening, as he excitedly handed Erwin a piece of the honeyed pear, Theodore declared, “Mama teaches me everything. I’m gonna be so smart, just like him!”

Erwin, smirking as he bit into the fruit, ruffled his son’s hair. “That’s because when your Mama was pregnant with you, I read to him every night. Clearly, it worked.”

Armin groaned. “Not this again.”

Theodore giggled, climbing into Armin’s lap. “Tell me more, Mama. I wanna learn everything.”

And Armin, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s golden head, smiled. “Then, my love, we have so much more to explore.”

----------------------------------------------------------

Inside the royal activity room it was unusually lively that morning. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating the polished wooden floors and plush carpets where an assortment of toys had been carefully arranged. The usual serene atmosphere of the palace had been replaced with the soft murmur of giggling children, the occasional crash of a tumbling block tower, and the patient voices of caretakers keeping an eye on the noble little ones.

Armin adjusted Theo’s tunic one last time, smoothing down his soft blond curls before crouching in front of him. His little prince, blinked up at him with bright, intelligent blue eyes, full of curiosity but also laced with something else—hesitation.

“Are you excited, love?” Armin asked gently, offering an encouraging smile.

Theo shifted on his feet, glancing toward the room where the other children had begun to gather. His small hands gripped the fabric of Armin’s dress, unsure. “Who are they?” he asked, his voice soft but clear.

Armin’s heart melted at his son’s uncertainty. “They’re friends, my little star. Children like you, from noble families, who came to play with you.”

Erwin, standing nearby with his arms crossed, chuckled. “You’ll like them, Theo. Besides,” he added, sending a teasing glance at Armin, “ we will be right here if you need us and margot will be keeping an eye on you as well , okay my brave child ?''

“did you hear your father Theo? ” Armin said . He turned back to Theo, cupping his little face. “Just have fun, alright? No need to be nervous.”

Theo still seemed uncertain but gave a small nod. His adventurous spirit was warring with his shyness, but Armin knew his son—once he found his rhythm, he would thrive.

The first to approach Theo was a boy slightly older than him, with auburn curls and freckles dusting his nose. He was bold, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. “I am Oliver, Your Highness. It is an honor to meet you.” He then glanced at Armin and dipped his head respectfully. “Your Majesties .”

Theo blinked, then puffed out his little chest slightly. “I know all my letters,” he said proudly. “And numbers too.” trying to lead the conversation .

Oliver gasped. “All of them? Even the hard ones?”

Theo nodded seriously. “Even the really big ones.”

That seemed to impress Oliver, and just like that, the ice was broken.

A soft giggle pulled Theo’s attention to a girl with deep hazel eyes and raven-black hair styled neatly with ribbons. She was smaller than the others, sitting quietly with a stuffed rabbit in her lap. When Theo looked at her, she smiled shyly. “I’m Cecilia,” she murmured. “I like your hair, Your Highness.”

Theo, unused to such compliments, touched his curls self-consciously. “Thank you,” he said after a moment, his manners kicking in. Then, glancing at the rabbit, he tilted his head. “What’s its name?”

Cecilia brightened. “Whiskers!”

Oliver, eager to keep the conversation going, pointed toward the small indoor play garden where some of the children were beginning to run. “Would you like to join us, Prince Theodore? There’s a hiding spot I found last time!”

Theo hesitated, glancing toward Armin and Erwin, who stood nearby, watching with quiet encouragement. Armin nodded reassuringly, and that was all Theo needed. He turned back to his new companions, his adventurous spirit kicking in. “Okay!”

The next hour passed in a whirlwind of childish wonder. Theodore followed Oliver through the play garden, ducking under leafy branches and crawling through small tunnels of shrubbery. He discovered a pile of colorful stones with Cecilia, who arranged them in patterns while they giggled over which one looked like a dragon’s egg.

At one point, a slightly older boy named Edward challenged Theo to a small stick fight, using fallen branches they had found in the garden. The two giggled and tumbled through the soft grass, swinging their sticks with all the dramatics of knights in training. Edward was stronger, but Theo was quick and strategic, much to Armin’s delight as he watched from afar.

Margot, standing next to the royal couple with her arms crossed, smirked. “He’s got the kings determination but the queen wit,” she mused. “Dangerous combination.”

Erwin let out a proud hum. “That’s my boy.”

When lunchtime arrived, the children gathered around a large picnic blanket spread across the floor of the activity room. Plates were filled with small sandwiches, fruits, and little sweets. Theo, sitting comfortably between Oliver and Cecilia, scrunched up his nose at a particular fruit he had tried once before.

“I don’t like this one,” he declared with dramatic finality, pushing it away.

Cecilia giggled. “Then don’t eat it! I like this one,” she said, holding up a berry.

Theo considered it, then, trusting his new friend, took a small bite. His little face lit up in delight. “Mmm!”

The playdate continued until the sun hung lower in the sky, signaling the time for the children to return home. As each child bid their goodbyes, Theo—once hesitant and quiet—now stood with confidence, exchanging small farewells.

When the last guest had left, Theo turned toward Armin, beaming. “I liked them, Mama.”

Armin knelt, brushing a curl from Theo’s face. “I’m so happy, my love.”

Erwin swooped Theo up into his arms, pressing a smothering kiss to his cheek. “A successful day, I’d say. Our little prince is making friends.”

Margot smirked. “I just hope they can keep up with him.”

Theo, hearing that, giggled mischievously—already thinking about their next grand adventure.

--------------------------------------------

As the evening settled in and the palace quieted after a lively playdate with his new friends , Theo found himself nestled comfortably in Erwin’s lap in the royal study. The flickering glow of candlelight cast warm shadows across the bookshelves, and the faint scratch of quills from the clerks working in the adjacent hall was the only background noise. It was a moment of peace, one Theo always loved—just him and his Papa, safe in the quiet warmth of his father’s presence.

Theo let out a small sigh, his little fingers tracing the golden embroidery on Erwin’s sleeve, following the intricate loops and patterns as if memorizing them. He loved sitting in his Papa’s lap, wrapped in the safety of his strong arms, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. It made him feel small, but in the best way—like nothing bad could ever happen as long as Papa was there.

“Papa,” he murmured, looking up at Erwin with big, sleepy eyes.

“Yes, little one?” Erwin rumbled, setting aside the scroll he had been reviewing. His large hand instinctively rested on Theo’s back, rubbing small, soothing circles.

Theo hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. Then, with all the seriousness his small voice could muster, he asked, “Are you the strongest knight in the whole kingdom?”

Erwin’s lips curled into an amused smile, and he tilted his head. “Hmm. Strongest? I don’t know about that.”

Theo frowned, his tiny brows furrowing. Clearly, that answer wasn’t good enough. “But you lead everyone! And everyone listens to you! And you always win when we play fight!” His little hands balled into fists as he puffed out his chest. “I want to be like you when I grow up!”

Erwin’s heart swelled at the declaration, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. He gently ran a hand through Theo’s messy curls, tucking them away from his face. “You do?” he asked, his voice softer now.

Theo nodded eagerly, shifting so he could sit up straighter. “Yes! I want to be strong and brave. And make sure everyone is safe. Just like you do.”

Erwin studied his son, taking in the bright determination in his blue eyes—eyes that were so much like his own, yet filled with the same warmth and kindness as Armin’s. A lump formed in his throat.

“You know, Theo,” Erwin said gently, “being strong isn’t just about fighting. It’s about knowing when to be gentle. When to listen. When to help others.”

Theo blinked up at him, his small hands resting against Erwin’s chest as he processed the words. He was quiet for a moment, then finally said, “Like when Mama teaches me things?”

Erwin chuckled, nodding. “Exactly. Your Mama is the smartest person I know. And a good leader needs both strength and wisdom.”

Theo beamed at the praise of Armin, then flexed his tiny arms with all the seriousness of a little knight-in-training. “I’m going to be strong and smart! Just like you and Mama!”

Erwin smiled, his heart aching in the best way. He reached out and gently tapped Theo’s nose. “I have no doubt, my little prince.”

Theo giggled, wrapping his arms around Erwin’s neck in a tight hug. “Love you, Papa.”

Erwin closed his eyes for a moment, resting his chin atop Theo’s golden curls, taking in the soft, sweet scent of his little boy. “I love you too, Theo. More than you’ll ever know.”

Theo grinned, still clinging to his father, his small fingers clutching at the back of Erwin’s shirt. “Then can I stay with you here forever?”

Erwin chuckled, shifting Theo so he could cradle him more comfortably. “Forever, hmm? What about your bed? Won’t you miss your soft pillows and warm blankets?”

Theo considered this for a moment, then shook his head. “Nope! Papa is the warmest.”

Erwin felt his heart squeeze as he pressed a kiss to Theo’s forehead. “Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

At the study door, Armin leaned against the frame, watching the scene unfold with a fond smile. His heart swelled with warmth as he listened to their soft conversation, watching Erwin cradle their son so tenderly.

Theo’s little voice piped up again, sleepy but insistent. “Papa?”

“Yes, my boy?”

“When I grow up and become strong like you, will we still do this? Will I still be your little prince?”

Erwin stilled for a moment before tightening his hold on Theo just slightly. He inhaled deeply, pressing another kiss to his son’s golden hair. “Always, Theo. No matter how big you get, you’ll always be my little prince.”

Theo let out a soft, content sigh, finally letting his small body relax against Erwin’s chest. “Okay,” he whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “Then I’ll grow up really slow.”

Erwin let out a quiet laugh, though his heart ached at the thought of time slipping by too fast. He held Theo close, savoring the weight of his little boy in his arms, knowing that someday, all too soon, Theo would no longer fit so easily in his lap.

But for now, he was here. Small, safe, and loved.

And Erwin would cherish every second.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Text

The royal chambers were dimly lit, the warm glow of the fireplace casting soft flickers across the walls and Armin's face he sat in a cushioned chair by the window, a book resting on his lap, though he hadn’t turned a page in quite some time. His gaze was fixed on Erwin, who stood near the desk, scanning over the final documents for his upcoming journey.

“It’s just a short trip,” Erwin assured, noticing Armin’s thoughtful silence. “Two days at most.”

Armin hummed, closing his book and setting it aside. “Remind me again what’s so urgent?”

Erwin sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before glancing at his husband. “The governor of Ostenburg has requested an audience. There’s been unrest along the border towns—some merchants have reported attacks, and the local nobility are concerned about growing tensions with neighboring lands.”

Armin frowned. “You don’t think it’s anything serious, do you?”

“I doubt it’s anything more than rogue bandits,” Erwin said, walking over to sit beside him. “But the nobility are pushing for reassurance. If I don’t go personally, they’ll take it as a sign we don’t care about their concerns.”

Armin sighed, resting his chin on his hand. “Politics.”

“Politics,” Erwin echoed with a tired smile.

Armin studied him for a moment before reaching out to gently smooth back a stray lock of his golden hair. “You work too much.”

Erwin chuckled, leaning into the touch. “You remind me of that often.”

“And yet you never listen,” Armin teased, though his tone was soft with affection.

“I listen,” Erwin countered, taking Armin’s hand in his own and pressing a kiss to his lips as gentle as ever . “I just can’t always do what you’d prefer.”

Armin shook his head, but he smiled. “You’ll be careful?”

“Always.”

Armin exhaled slowly, glancing toward the adjacent room where Theodore was already asleep. “He’s going to be upset when he hears you’re leaving.”

Erwin hummed in agreement. “I know. He’s been following me around the castle and sleeping beside us more than usual—he must have sensed something was happening.”

Armin smirked. “He’s smart, just like his Mama.”

Erwin squeezed his hand. “And stubborn, just like his Papa.”

They shared a quiet laugh, but Armin’s expression soon turned wistful. “I’ll miss you,” he admitted.

Erwin leaned forward, brushing a gentle kiss against his lips. “It’s only two weeks, my love.”

“Still too long.”

Erwin chuckled, wrapping an arm around Armin and pulling him close. They sat like that for a while, wrapped in warmth and the quiet sounds of the crackling fire.

Little did they know, just beyond the slightly open door, a certain small prince was wide awake, eyes shining in the darkness.

Theo had heard everything.

And he had already made up his mind, Tomorrow, he was going with Papa.

The sun had barely crested the horizon a small pink glow was creeping inside the palace grounds . The cool morning air carried the distant sounds of hooves clattering against stone and the hushed murmurs of soldiers making their final preparations. Inside his study, Erwin stood before a tall mirror, dressed in his finest travel attire. His fingers worked deftly over the last button of his coat, the fabric crisp beneath his touch he didn't want to disturb Armin's and Theo's sleep deciding it was better to drees in his study .
Everything was in order.

Moments ago, he had stood at the edge of their bedchamber, watching his husband bathed in the soft glow of dawn. Armin lay nestled beneath the silk sheets, golden strands of hair splayed against the pillow, his breathing slow and even. A rare moment of peace, undisturbed by the weight of the crown or the world beyond these walls. Erwin had leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to Armin’s forehead, his lips ghosting over warm skin as he whispered a silent farewell.

He had done the same for Theodore, his eldest son, who lay curled on his side next to his beloved , undisturbed by the quiet chirping of the birds . His boy—so strong, so full of promise—looked impossibly young in sleep, his face serene. Erwin smoothed back a stray lock of hair before pressing a gentle kiss to his temple, lingering just a moment longer than he intended.

Now, standing in his study, listening to the final calls of his men outside, Erwin exhaled. It was time.

Or so he thought.

Meanwhile The hush in the royal chamber was only broken by the sudden, rapid thump, thump, thump of hurried little feet against the marble floor.

Armin stirred, groggy from sleep, the warmth of the blankets still wrapped around him. It took him a moment to register what had woken him—the absence of Erwin’s warmth beside him, the faint sounds of the world outside their room… and the unmistakable sound of small feet pattering down the corridor.

Theo.

Blinking away sleep, Armin pushed back the covers and sat up, the cool morning air brushing against his bare skin. His golden hair, tousled from slumber, fell over his eyes as he rubbed at them. It was then that he noticed the door to their chamber was ajar, just wide enough for a determined little boy to have slipped through.

Frowning, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, slipping on his robe before padding barefoot out into the hall. The soft glow of dawn cast long shadows along the floor as he followed the sound of Theo’s footsteps, his heart already knowing where his son was headed.

Sure enough, just as Armin reached the corridor leading to Erwin’s study, the grand doors were pushed open with all the force a small child could muster.

Inside, Erwin stood tall, fastening the last button of his coat, his expression calm and collected—until their son stormed in like a tiny soldier on a mission.

Theo, still dressed in his nightclothes, his blond curls a wild mess from sleep, planted his feet firmly on the ground. His bright blue eyes, so much like Erwin’s, shone with fierce determination as he huffed, his little fists clenched at his sides.

“Papa!” he declared, his voice filled with righteous indignation. “You forgot me!”

Erwin stilled, raising an eyebrow, already sensing the battle ahead. “Forgot you?” he repeated, amusement curling at the edges of his lips.

Theo stomped forward, stopping just before his father. “You’re going on a ‘portant trip.” He crossed his arms with all the seriousness his small frame could muster. “And I have to go too.”

From the doorway, Armin leaned against the frame, arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement.

Erwin let out a slow breath, rubbing his temple. “Theo, it’s not an adventure. It’s a political trip. I’ll be meeting with stuffy old lords who talk for hours.”

“I can talk for hours!” Theo shot back without hesitation.

Erwin chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.”

But then, Theo shifted tactics. His tiny shoulders slumped, his lips pursed, and his big, ocean-blue eyes turned up to his father, shimmering with the threat of tears. “But… but I’ll miss you, Papa,” he whispered. “So much.”

Armin watched, barely holding back a smirk. He knew that look.

And judging by the way Erwin groaned under his breath, pressing a hand over his face, he knew it too.

Here stood a man who had faced war, commanded armies, and endured endless political struggles without faltering. Yet, against the trembling lip of a two-year-old, he stood utterly defenseless.

Finally, with an exaggerated sigh, Erwin crouched down to Theo’s level. “You really want to come with me?”

Theo nodded so fast his curls bounced.

“You know you’ll have to wake up early, ride in the carriage for a long time, and be on your best behavior?”

Theo’s head bobbed again. “I promise, Papa! I’ll be sooo good!”

At this, Erwin glanced toward the door, already knowing he wasn’t alone. His gaze met Armin’s, and without missing a beat, he sighed, “This is your fault.”

Armin feigned innocence, tilting his head. “My fault?”

“Yes.” Erwin straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. “You made him too cute. Now I can’t say no to him.”

Armin finally let out a soft laugh, stepping into the room and kneeling beside Theo. “It’s true,” he admitted, ruffling their son’s unruly curls. “You are impossibly cute, my star.” He pressed a kiss to Theo’s forehead before glancing up at Erwin. “I don’t mind if he goes, as long as you think he won’t be a burden.”

Erwin let out a mock sigh, shaking his head. “A burden? He’s going to make a speech to the council by the time we get there.”

Theo’s face lit up. “Can I?!”

Armin covered his mouth to stifle his laughter, giving Erwin a pointed look. “See? He’s already preparing.”

Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose before finally relenting, scooping Theo up into his arms. “Alright, alright. You win.” He tapped his nose. “You’re coming with me, little one.”

Theo let out an excited squeal, wrapping his arms around Erwin’s neck. “Yay! Papa, we’re gonna have so much fun!”

Armin smiled softly, resting a hand on Erwin’s arm. His voice was quieter this time, more serious. “Take care of him, alright?”

Erwin’s expression softened as he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to Armin’s lips. “Always.”

Just as they pulled away, Theo wriggled between them, pressing his tiny hands to their cheeks. “No kissies in front of me!” he declared, scrunching up his nose.

Armin and Erwin both laughed, sharing an amused glance.

And just like that, the great Commander Erwin Smith had been bested—not by an army, nor by a council of stubborn nobles, but by a two-year-old boy with his mother’s charm and his father’s unwavering determination.

As the decision was made, Armin straightened, brushing Theo’s curls back from his face with a fond smile. “Alright then, my little adventurer, let’s get you ready.”

Turning to the doorway, he called softly, “Could you have Theo’s bags prepared for travel?” The maids, who had been quietly waiting for instruction, nodded and hurried off to gather the child’s things.

Armin took Theo’s small hand in his and led him back toward their chambers. The morning air was crisp and a bit chilly slipping through the palace halls as they walked, the faint clatter of preparations for Erwin’s departure filling the background.

Once inside, Armin knelt beside Theo, opening his wardrobe. “Alright, love. Let’s get you dressed. You’ll want to be warm—it’s colder outside than it looks.”

Theo, still beaming from his victory, let Armin help him into his traveling clothes. He stood patiently as Armin fastened the little buttons on his coat, humming a tune under his breath. When his boots were finally tugged on and snug, Theo bounced excitedly on his feet.

“Now,” Armin murmured, smoothing out the fabric of his son’s coat, “we need to pick something for you to bring along.”

Theo’s eyes widened, and he gasped dramatically before running over to the chest near his bed, nearly tripping in his excitement. He flung it open, sifting through the pile of stuffed animals, carved animals, and small wooden soldiers. His little fingers hovered over a stuffed horse, a tiny knight figurine, and a small pouch of marbles before his eyes suddenly gleamed with realization.

“My sword!” he declared, diving into the pile. After a moment of struggling, he surfaced, holding up a small wooden sword triumphantly.

Armin’s heart ached with fondness as Theo swung the little blade through the air, mimicking Erwin’s practiced stance—though in his tiny hands, the movement was far less disciplined and far more endearing.

“I can match Papa now!” Theo grinned, looking up at Armin for approval. “I’ll protect him too!”

Armin swallowed past the lump in his throat, brushing Theo’s curls back again. “Of course you will, my love. Just like he always protects us.”

There was a moment of quiet as Theo beamed, so proud of himself, before Armin forced himself to move. He reached for the bag the maids had placed on the bed, gently tucking the wooden sword inside along with his extra clothes, small blankets, and other travel essentials.

And then—too soon—it was time.

Theo ran ahead, his little boots clicking against the marble as he rushed back to Erwin’s side, his excitement barely contained. Erwin, already atop his horse, turned at the sound of small, eager footsteps. He reached down easily, lifting Theo up onto the saddle in front of him.

Armin followed more slowly, his chest tightening as he took in the sight—his baby boy, bundled up, looking so small in Erwin’s arms, ready to leave home for the first time.

Theo giggled, adjusting his grip on his wooden sword. “We’re gonna have so much fun, Mama!”

Armin’s breath hitched. He knew this was a simple trip, that Theo would return in just a few days, safe and sound. But this was the first time Theo would be apart from him. The first time he wouldn’t be there to tuck him in, to soothe him from his dreams, to hold him close when he got sleepy.

He stepped forward, arms outstretched. “Come here, love.”

Theo barely hesitated before leaning into his embrace, his little arms wrapping tightly around Armin’s neck. Armin buried his face in his son’s curls, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of him—warm, sweet, undeniably Theo.

“I love you,” Armin whispered, pressing a kiss to his soft cheek, then another to his forehead. “Be good for Papa, alright? Listen to him. Stay close.”

Theo nodded against his shoulder. “I will, Mama.” His voice was small now, softer, as if he too realized how big this moment was.

Armin swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, pulling back just enough to cup his son’s face. “And if you miss me…” He tapped the tip of Theo’s nose, offering a teary smile. “Just remember that I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

Theo’s lower lip wobbled, but he nodded bravely. “I’ll be back real soon!”

Armin let out a small, breathy laugh, pressing one last kiss to Theo’s forehead before letting go, stepping back so Erwin could adjust him properly in the saddle.

Then Armin turned to Erwin, his hands brushing over the fabric of his coat, as if memorizing the feel of it. “And you,” he murmured, meeting Erwin’s gaze, “take care of him.”

Erwin, ever steady, ever composed, reached for Armin’s hand, bringing it to his lips. “With my life.”

Armin exhaled shakily, nodding, before Erwin leaned down, capturing his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It was warm, grounding, filled with silent reassurances.

When they parted, Theo wrinkled his nose. “More kissies?” he groaned dramatically.

Both Armin and Erwin laughed, their foreheads resting against each other’s for a fleeting moment.

And then, with a final squeeze of Armin’s hand, Erwin straightened. The signal was given. The horses began to move.

Armin stood in place as the procession rode off, his arms wrapping around himself as he watched Theo’s small figure slowly disappear down the road, his wooden sword clutched tightly in his hands , As the sound of hoofbeats faded into the morning air, Armin lingered for a moment longer, his arms still loosely wrapped around himself. The palace grounds felt unusually empty now, quieter without the presence of his son’s eager chatter. He exhaled slowly, then turned, making his way back inside.

For the first time since Theo was born, their home would feel just a little bit quieter.

The corridors were bathed in soft golden light, the warmth of dawn spilling through arched windows. But despite the beauty of the morning, Armin felt the lingering heaviness of parting settle over him like a thin veil. He was used to Erwin leaving—duty called him often—but Theo… This was the first time his baby boy had left his side.

A quiet sigh escaped him as he stepped back into their chambers. The large bed, still tousled from sleep, seemed almost too big now, too empty. He pulled off his robe, sliding under the sheets, letting the lingering warmth of Erwin’s side of the bed envelope him. His body ached for rest, for the comfort of sleep to pull him under.

The palace had resumed its morning rhythm outside—distant chatter, the shuffle of servants preparing for the day—but within the walls of his room, all was still. Armin closed his eyes, pressing his face into Erwin’s pillow, the faint scent of him lingering there. His breathing slowed, his body finally relaxing.

Just as sleep began to claim him—

*Knock. Knock. Knock.*

Armin groaned into the pillow. He knew that knock.

*Knock. Knock. Knock.* This time, louder. More insistent.

“Armin! You awake?”

Armin let out an exasperated sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “No,” he called, voice muffled.

There was a pause. Then—

“I’m coming in.”

Before Armin could protest, the door swung open, and in strolled Eren, his childhood friend, utterly unbothered by the fact that Armin had quite literally just buried himself back into bed.

“You know,” Armin muttered, cracking one eye open, “most people wait for permission before barging into someone’s room.”

Eren shrugged, dropping onto the edge of the bed with a huff. “Yeah, well, you weren’t answering fast enough. Figured you might’ve died or something.”

Armin groaned, rolling onto his side. “I might as well have.”

Eren snorted. “That bad?”

Armin didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the ceiling, the silence between them comfortable, familiar. After a moment, he sighed, rubbing his temple.

“Theo’s gone,” he murmured.

Eren blinked. “Well, yeah. He left with Erwin this morning, right?”

Armin turned his head to look at him. “I mean, he’s *gone,* Eren. As in, not here. As in, I won’t hear his little feet running down the halls or feel his tiny hands wake me up in the morning.” He let out a breath, his voice softer. “It’s the first time he’s not with me.”

Eren’s teasing demeanor faded slightly, his expression shifting to something more understanding. He leaned back on his elbows, glancing toward the window. “Yeah… that’s gotta feel weird.”

Armin let out a quiet laugh. “Weird is one way to put it.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “It’s like… ever since he was born, he’s always been here. Always in my arms, always needing me for something.” He exhaled slowly. “And now he’s off with Erwin, going on an adventure, and I just… don’t know what to do with myself.”

Eren was quiet for a moment, then he smirked, nudging Armin’s leg with his foot. “You could start by getting out of bed, you dramatic ass.”

Armin cracked a smile, opening one eye again. “And do what?”

Eren shrugged. “I don’t know. Eat. Walk around. Exist like a normal person.”

Armin sighed, sitting up slightly. “Existing sounds exhausting.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve decided to dedicate my entire morning to dragging you out of this pit of despair.”

Armin arched an eyebrow. “Did Levi kick you out again?”

Eren scowled. “That’s not the point.”

Armin laughed, the first genuine one of the morning, and Eren grinned. “Come on,” Eren said, standing and stretching. “Let’s get breakfast. You can mope *after* you eat.”

Armin rolled his eyes but relented, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Maybe, just maybe, Eren had a point.

they made their way to the palace dining hall were quieter than usual, the absence of Theo’s energetic babbling making the space feel almost too grand, too empty. But that didn’t stop Armin and Eren from filling it with their own brand of chaos.

Halfway through breakfast, after a few bites of fresh bread and honeyed fruit, the conversation had taken a turn—first into palace politics, then into the absolute disaster that was the latest noble scandal.

“So let me get this straight,” Eren said, gesturing with his fork. “Lord Benoît threw *an entire goblet* at Duke Lenaire during the council meeting?”

Armin sighed, rubbing his temples. “Yes, because apparently, ‘the Duke is an insufferable swine who wouldn’t know good wine from horse piss.’”

Eren snorted, barely holding back his laughter. “Oh, that’s good. That’s *so* good.”

“It would’ve been *less* good if it hadn’t happened in front of foreign envoys.” Armin gave him a pointed look. “I had to step in before it turned into an all-out duel.”

Eren cackled, taking a sip of his drink. “I swear, your life is better than those ridiculous plays Hanji makes me sit through.”

“Oh, we’re just getting started.” Armin leaned in, voice dropping. “You know Lady Vivienne?”

Eren paused, his chewing slowing. “The one married to that old count?”

Armin nodded. “She’s been seen sneaking around the gardens with *his nephew.*”

Eren choked. “*What?!*”

Armin smirked. “Mm-hmm.”

Eren clutched his chest dramatically. “Gods, I live for this. Tell me more.”

They went on like that for a while, swapping stories, spilling the latest gossip both inside and outside the palace. Armin hadn’t realized how much he needed this—needed to talk about something other than missing Theo, needed to *laugh*.

Eventually, the conversation shifted, slowing into something more personal.

“So,” Armin said, leaning back in his chair, “how’s married life treating you?”

Eren blinked, caught mid-bite. “Huh?”

Armin gave him a knowing smile. “You and Levi. It’s been, what, a year now?”

Eren swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that.”

Armin tilted his head. “And?”

Eren huffed, staring down at his plate as if the answer could be found there. “I mean… it’s *good*. Great, actually.” He paused, then sighed. “But also *infuriating*.”

Armin chuckled. “Infuriating?”

“You *know* Levi,” Eren groaned. “Everything has to be in *order*. My boots out of place? I’m a ‘messy brat.’ Papers on my desk? ‘Undisciplined disaster.’” He sighed. “And don’t even get me started on the tea thing.”

Armin smirked. “The tea thing?”

Eren threw up his hands. “He’s *obsessed*, Armin. And *judgmental*. I made myself tea once, and he looked at me like I committed a war crime.”

Armin laughed. “Did you?”

Eren scowled. “It was *fine*.”

Armin gave him a skeptical look.

“Okay, it *might* have been a little strong.”

Armin hummed knowingly. “Go on.”

Eren huffed. “Fine, it tasted like *bitter death,* but that’s not the point. The point is, now I’m *banned* from making my own tea.”

Armin grinned. “You sound married, alright.”

Eren rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the fondness creeping into his expression. “Yeah, well. He puts up with *me*, so I guess that’s worth something.”

Armin smiled, softer this time. “And you put up with him.”

Eren hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.” He picked at his food for a moment before adding, almost shyly, “It’s… nice, you know? Having someone who just *gets* you.”

Armin’s gaze softened. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”

For a moment, there was silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. Then Eren, needing to ruin the moment as always, leaned back with a dramatic sigh.

“Still doesn’t change the fact that he’s the most stubborn man alive.”

Armin smirked. “Says *you*.”

Eren shot him a glare. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

Armin just laughed, shaking his head as they fell back into their easy rhythm, breakfast stretching into a morning of reminiscing, teasing, and comfortable companionship.

Just as Armin was about to spill yet another scandalous tale, a sharp voice cut through their laughter.

“Eren !.”

Both Armin and Eren turned to see Levi standing at the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp as ever.

Eren groaned. “Oh, come *on*, can’t I have one morning of peace?”

Levi raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You had your ‘morning of peace.’ Now I need you for something *important*.”

Eren leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “You *always* need me for something important.”

Levi didn’t react, only tilting his head slightly. “And yet you’re still here, running your mouth instead of doing something useful.”

Armin bit back a laugh as Eren grumbled under his breath, shoving the last piece of bread into his mouth before standing up. “Fine, fine. *But*—” He pointed at Armin. “—you *owe* me the rest of that story later.”

Armin smirked. “I’ll save the best part for you.”

Eren shot him a thumbs-up before following Levi out, their voices fading into the distance—Eren’s whining, Levi’s clipped responses.

And just like that, Armin was alone again.

For a moment, he simply sat there, staring at the now-empty space where his best friend had been. The energy from their conversation lingered, but it wasn’t enough to fill the quiet that followed.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. The morning had started early—*too* early. Maybe, just maybe, he could try get some sleep again after his failed attempt from before .

With that in mind, he pushed himself up from the table, making his way back toward the bedroom. The sheets were still warm from when he had left them, and the lack of Theo’s usual morning chaos made the palace feel oddly still.

Sliding beneath the covers, he exhaled deeply, letting the comfort of the bed pull him under.

And this time, no little feet came running through the halls. No knocks disturbed the peace.

Sleep came easily, wrapping around him like a familiar embrace.

By the time he woke again, the sun was already high in the sky.

Armin blinked up at the ceiling, momentarily disoriented by the sheer *peace* of waking up naturally. No small hands shaking his shoulders, no insistent little voice demanding breakfast or an adventure—just the gentle afternoon light spilling through the sheer curtains, warming the sheets where he lay.

For a long moment, he simply lay there, letting the silence settle over him like a long-lost friend. Then, with a slow stretch, he decided. Today, he would *rest*.

And what better way to unwind than indulging in something he hadn’t been able to enjoy properly in a long time?

A bath. A long, *hot* bath. With a book.

He smiled to himself as he rose from the bed, already picturing the warmth of the water and the weight of a novel in his hands.

Steam curled in soft tendrils around him as he sank into the massive marble tub, the scent of lavender and chamomile swirling in the air. The water was hot enough to chase away any lingering stiffness, the tension in his muscles melting away with each passing second.

Armin leaned back, letting his head rest against the carved edge of the tub, his fingers idly tracing the embossed leather cover of the book. He hadn’t been able to do this in so long. Theo’s boundless energy had made sure of that—his son had a knack for interrupting the rare moments Armin attempted to steal for himself, whether by barging in with a new discovery or dramatically flopping onto Armin’s lap, demanding attention.

But now… now he could slip back into his old habits.

The book was an old favorite, one he had read countless times yet never tired of. As he turned the first page, the world around him faded, replaced by sprawling landscapes, whispered intrigue, and the poetic elegance of words weaving tales of distant lands and daring souls.

He lost track of time, only vaguely aware of the water cooling around him. Eventually, he closed the book with a soft sigh, setting it aside before standing. The heat of the bath had left his skin flushed, his muscles loose and relaxed.

Wrapped in a plush robe, he padded toward his dressing chambers, letting the lingering warmth of the bath settle deep into his bones.

By the time he reached the dining hall, the table had already been set with his second meal of the day.

A spread fit for royalty awaited him—because, of course, it *was* fit for royalty.

A golden-crusted meat pie, its rich, flaky layers practically begging to be cut into. A side of creamy mashed potatoes, whipped to perfection and topped with a drizzle of herb-infused butter. Freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven, accompanied by a selection of soft cheeses and spiced honey.

On a smaller plate sat a selection of fruits—ripe berries glistening like jewels, slices of sweet melon, and tart citrus wedges dusted with a hint of sugar.

Armin picked at the meal at a leisurely pace, savoring each bite. The quiet hum of the palace surrounded him, a stark contrast to the usual energy Theo brought to mealtimes. There were no tiny hands reaching for his plate, no giggles between mouthfuls, no excited chatter about whatever grand story Theo had created in his mind.

As much as he treasured the rare peace, he couldn’t deny he missed the sound of his son’s laughter.

Still, the meal was a luxury in itself, and by the time he finished, he felt full, content… and—

*Sleepy.*

The warmth of the bath, the satisfaction of the meal—it all pressed down on him like a soft, inviting weight. His eyelids grew heavier by the second, and he was just considering retreating back to his chambers when the familiar sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hall.

He barely had time to straighten in his seat before Arthur, the royal butler, entered with his usual composed grace.

“Your Majesty,” Arthur greeted with a slight bow, carrying a silver tray with a sealed letter resting atop it. “A letter has arrived from His Majesty the King and the Crown Prince.”

Armin’s brows lifted slightly as he reached for the envelope. “From both of them?”

Arthur nodded. “It appears to be of some significance.”

Armin hummed thoughtfully as he took the letter, fingers brushing over the familiar royal seal before he carefully broke it. A warmth bloomed in his chest at the thought of Erwin and Theo writing to him together.

“I’ll take this in my chambers,” Armin said softly, already rising to his feet. Arthur merely bowed in understanding as Armin made his way through the palace halls.

The silence felt heavier than usual, the absence of his husband and son sinking in as he walked. When he finally reached his chamber, he stepped inside and shut the doors behind him, exhaling quietly. His gaze drifted toward the grand bed, the sheets still slightly tousled from the morning.

Without a second thought, he moved to Erwin’s side of the bed. The lingering scent of him wrapped around Armin the moment he settled in. He curled into the space Erwin usually occupied, letting the familiarity soothe the loneliness that crept in.

Unfolding the parchment with care, his eyes traced the delicate script of his husband's handwriting.

And as he read, he could almost hear Erwin’s voice.

To My Dearest Armin,

We have arrived safely at our destination after a long but uneventful journey. The roads were clear, the soldiers well-prepared, and our people greeted us warmly along the way. As expected, Theo proved to be both my greatest companion and my greatest distraction. He spent most of the trip perched beside me in the royal carriage, chattering about everything he saw—trees, birds, passing villages, the clouds in the sky (which, according to him, were “racing” us). He insisted on keeping his wooden sword close at all times, claiming he must be ready for any “important king duties.”

The court welcomed us with the usual formalities, though I believe they were not quite prepared for Theo’s presence. As Crown Prince, he carried himself with all the dignity he could muster—until, of course, curiosity got the better of him, and he began inspecting every corner of the great hall with wide-eyed wonder. The ministers looked scandalized when he climbed onto the throne beside me, but I merely told them their future king wished to oversee matters firsthand. He was particularly intrigued by the meeting chambers, though I suspect that had more to do with the large maps than the discussions themselves.

The foreign dignitaries here have taken quite the interest in Theo. Many have remarked on his keen mind and natural confidence, though I suspect some were merely caught off guard when he asked them, with all the seriousness of a seasoned ruler, “Are you treating your people well?”

Armin, our son will make an incredible king one day.

But even in all his excitement, Theo misses you dearly , he asks when we will return and whether you are doing okay without him in every given moment . He made me promise to write and ask, so here I am, fulfilling my duty as both King , husband and a father .

How are you, my love? Have you been resting properly? Eating well? I know you cherish quiet days, but is the palace too quiet without us? I hope Eren is keeping you company, though I suspect his version of company includes an abundance of unnecessary dramatics.

Take care of yourself, Armin. I will write again soon. Until then, know that I miss you, think of you always, and look forward to returning to your side.

With all my love,
Erwin

(P.S. Theo insists I add: “Mama! I am the best king ever! I am protecting Papa very good! I love you! I will bring you a big, big present when I come home! Wait for me!”)

Armin let out a soft laugh, his fingers lightly brushing over the ink as if he could reach through the parchment and touch them.

He could picture them both so vividly—Erwin, calm and steady, yet endlessly patient with their son’s boundless energy. And Theo, full of life and determination, gripping his wooden sword like it was a real blade, declaring himself protector of the King.

A deep ache settled in his chest. He missed them.

Shifting slightly, Armin pulled the blanket over himself, tucking the letter against his chest as he nestled further into Erwin’s side of the bed. The warmth of the words lingered, lulling him into a rare sense of peace.

And before he could fight it, his eyes fluttered shut.

The letter remained clutched in his hands as sleep finally claimed him.

Chapter Text

The rest of Armin’s days were spent in a haze of drowsiness, drifting between wakefulness and sleep. No matter how many hours he rested, the quiet stillness of the palace and the absence of his husband and son left him sinking back into the comfort of his sheets, lulled into slumber again and again.

At first, it was amusing—he had always longed for moments of peace, free from duties and the constant demands of royal life. But as the days stretched on, his tendency to doze off at odd hours became noticeable.

The maids, ever observant, began whispering among themselves.

“The Queen has hardly left his chambers since His Majesty and the Crown Prince departed.”

“He only wakes to eat, bathe, and take short walks before returning to bed. Have you seen how drowsy he looks?”

One particularly dramatic maid sighed wistfully. “It’s like something out of a fairy tale… His Majesty left, and now the Queen has fallen under an enchanted sleep, waiting for true love’s kiss to wake him.”

Another giggled. “Perhaps when the King returns, he’ll have to kiss him awake, just like in Sleeping Beauty.”

The nickname spread faster than wildfire. By the end of the week, nearly the entire palace staff had taken to referring to Armin—out of earshot, of course—as their very own Sleeping Beauty.

Even Eren, when he next visited, leaned against the doorframe of Armin’s chamber with an exaggerated smirk. “So… are you planning to stay awake at all today, or should I come back when the spell wears off?”

Armin, curled in the blankets, barely cracked an eye open before groaning and turning away. “Shut up, Eren.”

Eren only laughed " No but for real you have been sleeping a lot is this depression or are u just not feeling well ? "

Armin blinked slowly at Eren, still nestled in the warmth of his blankets. He let out a soft sigh before rolling onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“…I don’t know,” he admitted after a pause. His voice was quiet, thoughtful. “I don’t feel sad. But everything just feels… slow. Heavy.” He exhaled, rubbing his eyes. “Maybe I’m just tired. I’ve spent years running after Theo, barely having a moment to myself. Now that it’s quiet, I guess my body’s making up for lost rest.”

Eren frowned, stepping further into the room. “Or maybe you don’t know what to do with yourself now that they’re not here.”

Armin didn’t respond right away. He had been sleeping an awful lot, but was it really exhaustion, or was it something else?

“I do miss them,” he admitted, shifting onto his side. “It’s strange not having Theo burst into the room at sunrise or hearing Erwin’s voice from his study. The palace feels… too big without them.”

Eren sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed. “You’re not alone, you know. I’m here, Levi’s here. You could actually do things instead of sleeping the days away.”

Armin huffed a small laugh. “You sound like Erwin.”

“Well, someone’s gotta keep you from turning into a permanent bed ornament.” Eren nudged him. “C’mon. Get up. We’re going out.”

Armin raised a brow. “Going where exactly?”

“Does it matter?” Eren smirked. “Anywhere but this bed.”

Meanwhile the city of Ostenburg was grand, bustling, and foreign. Its towering stone structures held centuries of history, its streets teemed with merchants calling out their wares, and its people moved with purpose, paying little mind to the royal visitors who had come to settle political matters.

Theo had never been this far from home before. At first, the excitement of travel had kept his spirits high—riding alongside his father, pretending his wooden sword was as mighty as the one strapped to Erwin’s belt. But now, the days had stretched long, filled with endless meetings in towering halls where men spoke in weighty voices, their words curling around topics that Theo couldn’t quite grasp.

He tried to sit still beside his father, watching with quiet reverence as Erwin listened, spoke, commanded. He was a *king* in every sense of the word—measured, unwavering, and endlessly patient. Theo, watching him so closely, tried his best to mirror his posture, to carry himself with the same quiet authority.

But it was *hard*.

The rooms were always too big. The chairs too stiff. The voices too dull. And worst of all, there was no *Mama*.

Still, Theo did not complain. He had promised himself he wouldn’t.

Erwin must have noticed, though. His father always noticed.

One evening, when the weight of the day hung heavy, Erwin placed a rolled parchment in Theo’s hands.

“This,” he said, his voice low and warm, “is a *very* important document, my son. I need you to keep it safe for me until I ask for it.”

Theo’s chest swelled with pride as he straightened. “I won’t let anything happen to it, Papa!”

A soft smile tugged at Erwin’s lips. “Good.”

For the next few days, Theo carried the parchment everywhere, holding it tightly even as he sat through meetings, setting it beside him when he ate, keeping it under his pillow at night. He felt useful, as if he were part of something *important*.

And so, the days stretched on. The city, once so full of life and intrigue, became gray and uninteresting. The excitement of adventure had faded into something quieter, something heavier.

But he did not complain. He had promised he wouldn’t.

Theo had learned in those few days how to hide his feelings well. To sit still, to keep his chin high, to act as a prince should. But the moment the letter arrived, his careful mask began to slip.

It was late in the afternoon when the courier delivered it, the sealed parchment placed reverently in Erwin’s hands. The sight of the familiar crest sent a shock through Theo’s chest, something warm and aching all at once.

His father wasted no time, breaking the wax seal with a steady hand. Theo watched, heart pounding, as Erwin unfolded the parchment and began to read.

*"My loves,"*

The moment Theo saw the first words, his breath hitched. He scooted closer, hands gripping his tunic.

*"I hope this letter finds you well. The palace is emptier without you both, though I must admit I have been catching up on much-needed rest. The maids have even started calling me Sleeping Beauty—it seems I have gained quite the reputation in your absence."*

Theo let out a small, shaky laugh. He could *see* Mama smiling as he wrote that, hear the playful lilt in his voice.

*"But no amount of rest can make up for how much I miss you. The halls are too quiet. Our bed is too big. Every time I pass by the gardens, I half expect to hear Theo’s laughter or find him hiding behind the rosebushes. My days are spent waiting to hear from you, to know how you’re faring in Ostenburg. Tell me everything, my loves. I ache to know."*

His throat tightened.

The words blurred.

His chest ached.

And before he could stop himself, a quiet, broken sob slipped past his lips.

Erwin looked up immediately, his sharp blue gaze softening in an instant. “Theo?”

Theo pressed his lips together, shaking his head, willing himself to be strong, to hold it in.

But he *couldn’t*.

He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping his tunic tighter as another quiet sob escaped.

“I—I miss him, Papa,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I miss Mama *so much*.”

Erwin didn’t hesitate.

In one fluid motion, he set the letter aside and pulled Theo onto his lap, his arms strong and steady as they wrapped around his son. Theo buried his face against his father’s chest, his small fingers fisting into the fabric of Erwin’s coat as the dam finally broke.

All the days of pretending, all the nights of missing Mama’s voice, Mama’s warmth, Mama’s gentle hands brushing through his hair—everything came spilling out in quiet, hiccupping cries.

Erwin held him close, one large hand cradling the back of his head, the other rubbing slow, soothing circles against his back.

“I know, my boy,” he murmured, his voice steady yet unbearably gentle. “I know.”

Theo sobbed harder, his little body shaking. “I tried to be good,” he hiccupped. “I—I tried to be brave—”

“You *are* brave,” Erwin said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “And you are *good*. More than you know.”

Theo sniffled, his grip tightening. “I want to go home.”

Erwin exhaled softly, resting his chin atop Theo’s golden curls. “I know, my love. I do too.”

For a long time, they sat there—father and son, wrapped in each other’s warmth. The weight of duty, of distance, of longing hung heavy in the air, but for now, in this moment, Erwin let himself simply *be* a father holding his child.

And Theo, for the first time since they’d arrived, allowed himself to *feel*.

Theo’s sniffles eventually quieted, his breathing evening out as he clung to his father’s warmth. His little fingers curled into the fabric of Erwin’s coat, as if afraid that letting go would mean being swept away by the vast emptiness that had settled in his chest.

After a long moment, his voice broke the silence, small and hesitant.

“Papa…”

Erwin hummed softly in acknowledgment, his fingers still running through Theo’s golden curls.

“…Do you miss Mama too?”

The question was so soft, so fragile, as if Theo feared the answer.

Erwin’s hand stilled for a moment before resuming its slow, gentle motions. His lips pressed together as he considered how best to answer—how to put into words something that sat so deep in his chest it ached.

“I do,” he admitted at last, his voice low and steady. “More than I can ever say.”

Theo sniffled again and peeked up at him with watery blue eyes, so much like Armin’s. “Really?”

Erwin exhaled, shifting slightly so he could look Theo in the eyes, his hand moving to cup the boy’s small cheek.

“Theo,” he said gently, brushing his thumb over the tear-streaked skin, “every morning, I wake up reaching for him, only to remember he’s not here. Every evening, I sit down to write reports, and I find myself wanting to tell him about my day first.” He paused, his expression softening. “He is the first thing on my mind when I rise and the last before I sleep. So yes, my love. I miss him. Terribly.”

Theo swallowed hard, his lip trembling. “Then why do we have to stay here? Why can’t we just go home?”

Erwin let out a soft, weary sigh, pressing another kiss to Theo’s forehead. “Because duty demands it, my boy. And because when we return, I want to make sure our kingdom is stronger, safer—for you, for Mama, for all of us.”

Theo nodded against his chest, though his little hands still clung tight.

Erwin held him closer, rubbing slow, soothing circles on his back once more.

“But soon,” he promised, voice steady. “Soon, we’ll go home.”

Theo’s breath hitched, but this time, it wasn’t another sob. It was relief.

“…Okay,” he whispered, nestling further into his father’s embrace.

Erwin pressed another kiss to the boy’s golden hair, his fingers combing through the soft strands. The weight of longing still lingered in both their chests, heavy and unshakable, but Erwin had always believed in action over sorrow. And so, he decided.

“How about,” he began, voice low and warm, “we go to the market tomorrow?”

Theo stirred slightly, blinking up at him with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. “The market?”

“Mhm.” Erwin gave a small smile. “We can walk through the stalls, see what Ostenburg has to offer. And while we’re there… we can pick out a gift for Mama.”

The shift in Theo’s expression was instant. His tired eyes lit up, his small hands tightening around Erwin’s coat in excitement. “A gift for Mama?” he repeated, as if testing the words on his tongue.

“Yes.” Erwin nodded. “Something special—something that will make him smile the moment he sees it.”

Theo sat up properly, determination sparking in his gaze. “Yes! We have to get him the best gift ever!”

Erwin chuckled, ruffling his curls. “Then tomorrow, we shall search for just that.”

---------------------

The market of Ostenburg was lively, filled with the sounds of merchants calling out their wares, the chatter of townspeople, and the distant laughter of children weaving through the crowd. The air carried the scent of freshly baked bread, dried herbs, and the faintest trace of sea salt from the nearby harbor.

Theo held Erwin’s hand tightly, his tiny fingers wrapped around two of his father’s much larger ones. His eyes darted excitedly between the stalls, taking in everything at once—the colorful fabrics swaying in the breeze, the gleaming trinkets on wooden displays, the steaming trays of pastries dusted with sugar.

“Oh! Oh! Papa, look!” Theo tugged at Erwin’s hand, dragging him toward a small stand selling intricately carved wooden animals. He reached out, grabbing a rather wobbly-looking fox with too-large ears. “Mama would *love* this!”

Erwin arched a brow, lips twitching in amusement. “Would he?”

“Yes!” Theo declared with absolute certainty. “It’s cute and silly—just like Mama!”

Erwin huffed a quiet laugh. “Very well. We’ll take it.”

They moved from stall to stall, Theo’s excitement never waning. Every few minutes, he’d gasp dramatically, picking up something new—a feathered quill (“Mama loves writing!”), a tiny music box that played an off-key tune (“Mama *likes* music…”), a small woven basket filled with colorful marbles (“Mama will think they’re pretty!”).

Erwin, with the patience of a man long accustomed to indulging those he loved, bought each and every one.

Finally, as the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose, Theo tugged at Erwin’s sleeve once more.

“Papa,” he said, his voice softer this time. “Do *you* want to get something for Mama too?”

Erwin glanced down at him, then at the small collection of odd trinkets tucked safely in the bag he carried. His heart ached with fondness.

“I do,” he admitted, looking around the market once more.

And then, amidst the stalls of fine silks and fragrant spices, his gaze landed on a modest jeweler’s stand. There, nestled between more extravagant pieces, was a delicate chain with a single, simple pearl.

Not extravagant. Not grand. But beautiful in its quiet elegance.

Much like the person it was meant for.

“I think,” Erwin murmured, “I’ve found just the thing.”

------

The rest of the days passed in a whirlwind, swept up in the uncontainable excitement of a certain golden-haired boy and the relentless determination of his father.

Theo could barely sit still, bouncing on his heels at every opportunity, his little hands constantly reaching into the bag where the precious collection of gifts lay tucked away. Every few hours, he’d pull something out, turning it over in his hands with sparkling eyes, as if seeing it for the first time. He practiced what he would say, murmuring to himself as he imagined Mama’s delighted reaction. He even made Erwin rehearse with him—several times—insisting that the perfect moment required the perfect delivery.

Meanwhile, Erwin worked harder than ever, finishing up paperwork with newfound efficiency, delegating tasks he normally would have handled himself, all in a bid to clear his schedule just a little sooner. He wanted to be present, to see Armin’s face when Theo presented each carefully chosen treasure with all the pride in his tiny body.

At night, Theo would fall asleep still clutching one of the gifts—a wooden fox one night, a marble the next—his small fingers curled around it as though making absolutely sure it didn’t disappear overnight. Erwin would pry it gently from his grasp, tucking it back into the bag with a soft chuckle, brushing golden strands from his son’s face.

And so, the days slipped by, carrying them closer to the moment Theo had been waiting for, until finally—finally—the time arrived.

---------------

The palace had not seen such energy in *weeks*. It was as though every stone, every corridor, every golden chandelier had been stirred awake by the infectious excitement that radiated from its queen.

At the heart of it all was Armin—glowing, lively, and filled with an almost childlike anticipation. He had long abandoned his usual royal robes in favor of something more *practical*—a soft ivory tunic and fitted navy-blue pants that allowed him to move freely. A thin gold belt cinched his waist, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the graceful curve of his arms.

He practically *danced* through the halls, his bare feet padding lightly against the polished marble floors, directing the maids left and right with a bright grin. “The sheets in Theo’s room—make sure they’re fresh! Something soft, something *warm*,” he called out, waving his hands for emphasis.

“Yes, Your Majesty!” The maids hurried past him, hiding their smiles behind pressed lips. It was a rare sight to see their queen in such a casual state, brimming with joy.

“And the dining hall—oh, the flowers! Lilies and white roses, arranged just *right*,” Armin continued, spinning on his heel to make sure everything was running smoothly. His golden hair bounced with his movements, and his laughter rang through the halls when he nearly bumped into a flustered maid carrying a tray of silverware.

“Careful, Your Majesty!” she squeaked, pressing a hand to her chest.

Armin grinned, stepping aside dramatically. “Apologies, I’m just *so* excited! They’ll be here *today*.” His hands clenched and unclenched, unable to contain the energy surging through him.

The maids exchanged knowing glances, whispering among themselves as they hurried along.

“He looks like a child on the morning of a festival,” one murmured, giggling behind her hand.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” another admitted. “It’s… endearing.”

Armin either didn’t hear them or didn’t care. His mind was *racing* with preparations.

The *food*. Oh, it had to be *perfect*.

He all but *marched* into the grand kitchen, where the scent of roasting meat, fresh bread, and sweet apples filled the air. The chefs paused mid-motion as their queen strode in, his eyes scanning the preparations like a commander inspecting his troops.

“Alright,” Armin said, rolling up his sleeves further. “For Erwin—his favorite venison stew, seasoned *just* right. Make sure it’s thick, rich, and *warm*. And dark rye bread, freshly baked, with that whipped butter and honey drizzle he likes. Don’t forget the wine.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the head chef nodded, jotting down notes despite knowing the meal was already planned.

“And Theo,” Armin sighed fondly, a soft smile curling his lips. “A meat pie—golden, flaky, stuffed with chicken and vegetables. He likes the crust extra crisp, so make sure it’s *just* so.” His fingers mimicked a delicate pinch as if shaping the pie himself. “With sweet-glazed carrots, buttery mashed potatoes, and—oh!—a warm apple tart with caramel drizzle and vanilla cream.”

The kitchen staff stifled their amusement. “Of course, Your Majesty,” they chorused, already working at full speed.

By the time the final touches were in place, Armin stood in the middle of the grand hall, hands on his hips, taking it all in. His heart pounded—not from exhaustion, but from *pure anticipation*.

He bit his lip to keep from grinning too hard, but the giddy excitement in his eyes betrayed him.

Any *moment now*, they would be home.

Armin checked his chambers yet again , adjusting every last detail with the help of the maids. The curtains? No, they needed to be drawn back *just* right to let in the warm afternoon glow. The pillows? *Fluff them again.* The rug at the foot of the bed? Shift it a little to the left. The fireplace? A gentle flame, enough to make the room feel inviting but not too warm.

The maids, accustomed to their queen’s eye for perfection, exchanged knowing glances but followed his every instruction without question. One of them, a younger girl, hesitated before speaking.

“Your Majesty, the room looks *perfect* now.”

Armin took a step back, hands on his hips, and nodded. “It does, doesn’t it?” He exhaled deeply, finally feeling the weight of his preparations settle.

And then—his gaze drifted toward the bed.

It sat there, perfectly made, perfectly inviting, almost *mocking* him with its comfort. He had been on his feet all day, barely stopping for a breath. A *small* nap wouldn’t hurt, right?

The maids watched as their queen hesitated, clearly torn between responsibility and the undeniable lure of rest.

“…Just for a moment,” Armin murmured, more to himself than to them.

With that, he slipped onto the bed, sighing as the familiar scent of lavender and Erwin’s lingering cologne wrapped around him. His eyes fluttered shut almost instantly.

He would wake up *before* they arrived. *Surely.*

Except… he *didn’t.*

Erwin and Theo had arrived hours ago, stepping into the palace greeted by shimmering banners, fresh floral arrangements, and the mouthwatering scent of a grand feast—only to be told that the one person they had longed to see was *asleep*.

At first, Erwin had found it amusing. He had imagined Armin tiring himself out with all the preparation and collapsing into bed for a well-earned rest. He had even instructed the servants not to wake him, thinking it would only be a short while before Armin stirred and came rushing down the halls, breathless and glowing with excitement.

But as the minutes stretched into hours, Theo’s patience—already fragile after days of restraint—began to crack.

He had waited *all day* to run into his mama’s arms. Had held back his whines on the long journey home. Had sat *still* as his father handled his royal duties.

But he *could not* wait any longer.

With his tiny fists clenched and his lips pursed in a determined pout, Theo had *marched* straight to Armin’s chambers, Erwin and the others trailing behind.

And now, here they were—five people standing around the massive bed where Armin lay, blissfully unaware of the chaos he had caused.

Theo clambered onto the bed, poking at Armin’s shoulder insistently.

“Mama.” Poke. “Mama, wake up.” Poke. Poke.

Armin let out a soft sigh but didn’t wake.

Theo’s face scrunched up in frustration. He glanced back at Erwin, who gave him an encouraging nod. Then, with the dramatics of a seasoned actor, Theo flopped down onto his mama’s back, burying his face into the fabric of Armin’s tunic.

“MAMAAAAA!”

Armin stirred with a sleepy groan, his body shifting under the sudden weight of a small child. His lashes fluttered, blue eyes barely cracking open as his sluggish mind tried to make sense of the situation.

“Mmm… Theo?”

Theo’s head shot up, face lighting up like the morning sun. “Mama!! You *slept* through our coming home!” His voice wobbled slightly, as if he had been *personally wronged*.

Armin blinked blearily before slowly rolling onto his side. He barely had time to adjust before another weight settled beside him—Erwin, his expression somewhere between fondness and exasperation.

“You’ve been asleep for hours,” Erwin murmured, brushing Armin’s hair away from his face. His touch was gentle, but his eyes were full of quiet concern.

Armin blinked again, mind still sluggish. “I… I just closed my eyes for a moment,” he mumbled.

Hanji snorted from the foot of the bed. “Yeah? That ‘moment’ turned into half a day.”

Eren crossed his arms, shooting Armin a knowing look. “*See*? I *told* you something was wrong.”

Armin groaned, burying his face into the pillows for a brief second before peeking up at Theo. His baby boy looked at him with wide, expectant eyes, his lower lip jutting out just slightly.

Armin’s heart clenched.

“Oh, my love,” he murmured, finally sitting up fully. “I *missed* you so much.”

Theo immediately launched himself into Armin’s chest, wrapping his tiny arms around him with all the strength he could muster.

“I missed you too!” Theo’s voice was muffled against Armin’s tunic. “It was so *boring* without you.”

Armin chuckled, pressing kisses onto Theo’s golden curls. “Never again, my little prince. I promise.”

Erwin watched them quietly for a moment before reaching out, his large palm settling at the small of Armin’s back.

“We missed you, too,” he admitted softly, and Armin turned his gaze to him, taking in the familiar lines of his husband’s face—the warmth in his expression, the love in his eyes.

Armin smiled, leaning into him. “You’re home now.”

Erwin’s lips curved, pressing a kiss to Armin’s temple.

“Yes,” he murmured against his skin. “We are.”

Theo, never one to let a moment stay too sentimental, suddenly gasped dramatically.

“Oh! Mama! Did you make honey cakes?!”

Armin blinked before laughing, the sound full and bright. “Yes, Theo. I made honey cakes.”

Theo lit up, practically bouncing in excitement. “Can we go eat *now*? I *really* want them!”

Armin finally swung his legs over the bed, reaching for Erwin’s outstretched hand to steady himself.

“Yes, my love,” he said, squeezing Theo’s tiny fingers in his own. “Let’s go eat.”

As they walked out of the chamber together, the warmth of their homecoming settled deep in Armin’s heart.

His family was back.

And *all* was right again.

As Theo eagerly dashed ahead, his small footsteps echoing through the grand halls, Erwin lingered behind with Armin, his arm slipping around his waist with ease—firm, familiar, *possessive*. He pulled Armin just a fraction closer, his lips finding the delicate curve of his ear.

"I've missed you," Erwin murmured, his voice low, warm, and edged with something *deeper*. His fingers traced slow circles against Armin’s side. "It’s been far too long since I last held you."

Armin shivered, the exhaustion lingering in his bones momentarily forgotten under the weight of Erwin’s touch. His lips curled in a soft, amused smile. "You make it sound like you’ve been gone for years."

Erwin exhaled a quiet chuckle but didn’t loosen his hold. Instead, he let his gaze wander, taking in the sight of Armin in something far more *practical* than his usual gowns. His blue eyes darkened slightly, admiration flickering in their depths.

"It’s also been a while since I’ve seen you in pants," he noted, voice laced with a teasing lilt. "It suits you."

Armin let out a laugh, tilting his head to glance up at him. "I had to move fast today, and I can’t exactly run in silk."

"A shame," Erwin hummed, pressing a lingering kiss to Armin’s temple. "But I suppose I’ll allow it—just this once."

Armin rolled his eyes fondly, but before he could retort, Erwin’s hold on him tightened just slightly, his tone turning more serious.

"But more importantly, Armin," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of his ear, "after we eat, I want Hanji to examine you."

Armin stiffened ever so slightly, his steps faltering for half a second. "Erwin, I—"

"No protests," Erwin cut him off gently, but firmly. "You’ve been *sleeping* far more than usual. Even Theo noticed it. I need to know you’re well."

Armin sighed, knowing there was no arguing with him when he got like this. And, truthfully… maybe Erwin was right. Maybe he *had* been pushing himself too hard, maybe his body was trying to tell him something.

He glanced up at his husband, at the quiet concern etched into his features—the way his fingers held just a little too tightly, as if afraid Armin might slip away again.

Softening, Armin placed his hand over Erwin’s, squeezing gently. "Alright," he relented, his voice quieter now. "After dinner."

Erwin’s grip loosened, his features relaxing ever so slightly as he pressed another kiss to Armin’s hair.

"Good," he murmured. "That’s all I ask."

Ahead of them, Theo’s voice rang out in delight as he reached the dining hall, already calling for his honey cakes.

Armin chuckled, nudging Erwin playfully. "Come on, let’s not keep him waiting."

Erwin smiled, letting his arm slip from Armin’s waist—*for now*.

But his watchful eyes never left him.

Dinner was filled with warmth, laughter, and the much-needed closeness of a family reunited.

Theo, with his usual flair for dramatics, dramatically flopped onto the table, groaning, “*It was so boring, Mama!* You have no idea! I had to sit through *so* many meetings, and all they talked about was land, money, and more land! Who cares? I just wanted to come home!"

Armin chuckled as he reached out, smoothing Theo’s hair. “You poor thing. Suffering in the name of diplomacy.”

Theo shot up, nodding rapidly. “Exactly! *You* understand! But *Papa*—he just sat there, all serious and nodding, like it was *interesting*!”

Erwin smirked, setting down his goblet of wine. “Well, someone had to pay attention. Meanwhile, this little one—” He gestured toward Theo with his fork. “—almost mistook a noblewoman for you, Armin.”

Armin blinked, eyebrows raising. “Oh?”

Theo let out a strangled noise, his face turning bright red. “PAPA! NO!”

But Erwin only grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “It was the funniest thing. We were at a formal gathering, and Theo spotted someone in a pale blue gown with golden hair. He gasped—loudly, might I add—and ran right up to her.”

Theo groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I *thought* it was you…”

“Oh, he was so happy,” Erwin continued, eyes gleaming with amusement. “He ran straight up, calling, ‘Mama!’ And when the poor lady turned around—” Erwin chuckled, shaking his head. “The sheer horror on Theo’s face was priceless.”

Armin burst into laughter, pressing a hand to his mouth. “Oh, Theo, my love.”

Theo, still red-faced, sat up with a pout. “I just *missed* you! And she really did look like you—just from the back!”

Armin reached over, kissing the top of Theo’s head. “I missed you too.”

Theo huffed but leaned into the affection, mumbling, “It was still embarrassing…”

As the conversation lulled, Armin shared bits and pieces of his own days—mostly uneventful things, like little updates about the palace or how he spent time with Eren and Levi. But, as he spoke, he realized there wasn’t much to tell.

Because, really… he had just been sleeping.

As he admitted it out loud, Erwin’s fork stilled on his plate. His sharp blue eyes flickered toward Armin, gaze steady, calculating.

It was a look Armin knew too well. A silent declaration.

*We are going straight to Hanji after this meal.*

Armin swallowed, offering a small, sheepish smile. “...You don’t have to look at me like that.”

“I do,” Erwin replied smoothly, sipping his wine. “Because if I don’t, you’ll try to avoid it.”

Armin sighed. *Damn it.*

Theo, still chewing on a honey cake, looked between them. “Are you sick, Mama?”

Armin hesitated, but before he could answer, Erwin cut in. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

And just like that, the decision was final.

Chapter Text

The royal dining hall had been transformed into something warmer, more intimate as the time passed with conversations . The usual long banquet table remained, but only a few seats were filled: Armin sat at the center with Theodore on his lap, and Erwin beside them, his arm resting behind Armin’s chair, his posture protective without being stifling. The soft glow of golden candlelight bounced off the silverware and gilded plates, but the atmosphere felt more like a hearth than a court.

Theo’s plate was a playful arrangement—cut strawberries shaped like hearts, honey buns and a cup of warm milk that steamed faintly beside him. Armin had insisted on the simple dessert . After days of traveling, excitement, and emotional upheaval, they didn’t need elegance—they needed *home*.

“More strawberries, Theo?” Armin asked, already lifting one toward his son's lips.

Theo nodded sleepily, opening his mouth and munching slowly. “These taste like sunshine,” he mumbled, barely keeping his eyes open.

Erwin chuckled softly, reaching for the bread to tear a piece for Armin. “That’s because they *were* grown in sunlight,” he said, leaning in to nuzzle the side of Armin’s hair. “Unlike someone I know who insists on lying directly in it.”

Armin smirked through a yawn. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“You’ve come home red-faced more times than I can count, and every time Hanji panics thinking it’s a reaction,” Erwin teased, passing Armin the cup of warm tea the kitchen had brewed especially for him.

“I like the sun,” Armin defended lightly. “It helps with the fatigue.”

“You fall asleep like a cat on a windowsill,” Erwin murmured, resting his forehead against Armin’s briefly.

Theo let out a small, tired giggle. “Mama’s a cat.”

“A royal cat,” Armin added, poking Theo’s cheek.

“You’re both impossible,” Erwin muttered fondly, but he leaned over to kiss the corner of Armin’s lips all the same.

Their moment was quiet—filled with clinking cutlery, gentle smiles, and soft sighs of comfort. No one rushed. No one had to pretend they weren’t exhausted. They were simply together. The castle could’ve been burning outside, and Erwin wouldn’t have moved an inch from his family.

At some point, Theo had stopped eating. His head rested on Armin’s shoulder, one arm flopped around Armin’s middle, the other clinging to his tunic. His eyelashes fluttered against Armin’s neck, and his breathing grew heavier.

“I think we lost him,” Erwin said gently, brushing a hand over Theo’s soft curls.

Armin’s hand rubbed small circles on Theo’s back, his face warm and glowing under the candlelight. “He tried to stay awake for us.”

“You both need sleep,” Erwin said quietly, reaching out to gently touch Armin’s cheek. “Let me carry him.”

“No, it’s okay,” Armin whispered, standing slowly with Theo nestled in his arms. “I missed this. Let me take him.”

Erwin didn’t argue. He rose, followed silently behind his husband through the softly lit halls, the shadows of the palace stretching long with the hour. Armin’s sway was slow and instinctive, and Theo mumbled softly in his sleep—nonsense words: “fox… sparkle cake… Papa said it was blue…”

Erwin smiled softly to himself. “He’s dreaming about that toy shop in town again.”

“You remembered?” Armin glanced over his shoulder, touched.

“I remember everything when it comes to you two,” Erwin said honestly.

—

Inside the nursery, the warmth of the fire had already filled the room, a lullaby of crackling wood and lavender drifting in the air. Armin knelt by the bed and gently tried to lower Theo onto the plush mattress.

But the little boy whimpered, fists tightening around his tunic again.

Armin whispered, “Shh… Theo, sweetheart, it’s okay. Mama’s right here. You’re safe.”

“No leave…” Theo murmured, brows furrowing. “Stay…”

Armin smiled softly, leaning in to press a long, lingering kiss to his son's temple. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep, alright?”

Theo seemed to accept that, finally releasing the fabric and curling up, his thumb brushing against the soft blanket beside him. His curls spilled over the pillow, and his small frame relaxed under the weight of security and love.

Armin tucked him in, his hand lingering on Theo’s back.

“He needs more time,” Armin whispered, standing slowly. “All of this… it was a lot for him.”

“And for you,” Erwin added quietly, stepping forward. “You’ve barely eaten, and I saw the way you leaned when you stood. Come on, I’ll draw a bath. After we visit Hanji”

Armin let himself lean into Erwin, wrapping his arms around his husband’s torso and resting his cheek on his chest.

Together, they stood by Theo’s bedside for another moment, watching their son dream peacefully, unaware of the chaos he had just weathered, protected in the cocoon of his parents’ love.

Then, hand in hand, they stepped out of the nursery—ready for quiet, for each other, and for the life still growing beneath Armin’s heart.

---

Erwin’s hand remained a steady presence on the small of Armin’s back as they walked through the quiet halls toward their chambers. His touch was warm—comforting in its familiarity—but there was a firmness to it, the kind that told Armin this was no casual gesture. He was worried. Again.

“I feel fine,” Armin murmured, tilting his face up to meet his husband’s furrowed gaze, his tone gentle but edged with amusement.

Erwin didn’t break stride. His eyes remained forward, scanning the corridor until they landed on the familiar figure standing a respectful distance away. “Arthur,” he called, his voice calm yet authoritative, “fetch Hanji. I want her to examine Armin.”

Arthur, ever the composed and dutiful butler , bowed his head. “Right away, Your Majesty,” he said, disappearing without a question.

Armin let out a soft sigh, half a groan, as they continued down the corridor. “Really, Erwin? I don’t need—”

“You do,” Erwin cut in, his voice quiet, but resolute. His hand pressed a little more firmly at Armin’s waist. “You’ve been sleeping more than usual. I’ve watched you doze off mid-sentence, Armin. That’s not like you.”

Armin gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment, lips curving into a small, resigned smile. He could protest, but the concern in Erwin’s eyes spoke louder than words. If letting Hanji poke at him for a few minutes would put his husband’s mind at ease, then fine. He’d allow it.

---

By the time Hanji arrived that evening, the soft glow of lamplight filled the chamber, casting golden hues against the polished floors and silken curtains. Her usual whirlwind energy was somewhat muted, replaced by a gentle focus that told Armin she was taking this seriously.

She set her worn leather bag at the edge of the bed, rolling up her sleeves as she motioned for Armin to sit. “Alright,” she said, her voice light but thoughtful, “let’s figure out what’s making our lovely queen nap his days away.”

Armin settled onto the bed with a little sigh, fingers gripping the edge of the mattress. “Erwin says I’m sleeping too much. That’s really all it is.”

Hanji nodded, her expression attentive as she knelt beside him. “And these naps—how long do they last?”

He shrugged slightly, brow furrowing. “Sometimes it feels like I only closed my eyes for a moment… but then hours have passed.”

She hummed, reaching for his wrist to take his pulse. “Any nausea? Dizziness? Headaches?”

“Not really,” Armin said, rubbing at his temple absently. “Just… tired. Like everything in me wants to rest. It’s strange.”

Hanji’s brows knitted together in thought. After a pause, she tilted her head. “When was the last time you had your menstrual cycle?”

The question cut through the room like a blade.
Silence followed—thick, sudden, and deafening.

Armin blinked, lips slightly parted. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. His mind had already begun to race, flipping back through the past weeks, searching… and finding nothing.

Hanji leaned forward slightly, her gaze narrowing with clinical interest. “Armin?”

Erwin stood beside them, still and silent. His eyes had not left Armin since the question was asked, his jaw clenched ever so subtly. “Love?” he murmured.

But Armin wasn’t listening.
He was remembering—the missed dates, the way time had slipped past him these past months. He had always been regular. Precise. But now? Now, he couldn’t recall the last time. Couldn’t even remember the color of the linens.

“Two… maybe three months ago?” he said slowly, uncertainty laced in every word. His brows drew together. “I don’t really remember when it stopped.”

Hanji gave a small nod, scooting closer. She reached out gently, pressing along his abdomen, her fingers expertly feeling for any signs of change. “Have you eaten anything strange lately? Felt bloated?”

Armin narrowed his eyes at her, his voice dry with mock offense. “Are you calling me fat?”

Hanji snorted, eyes twinkling. “No, Your Majesty. I’m saying you might be pregnant.”

Time seemed to stop.

The world around them went still, save for the quiet rustle of the curtains in the breeze. The words hung there, suspended in the air, unreal and shimmering.

Armin stared at her as though she had just recited an ancient spell in a forgotten tongue.

“…Pregnant?” he repeated, voice faint, disbelief threading through it. “What do you mean pregnant?”

Hanji raised an eyebrow.

“If I were pregnant, I would know,” Armin said, gesturing helplessly to himself as though that would settle the matter.

“Not necessarily,” Hanji replied calmly. “Some pregnancies are subtle. Exhaustion can be the first and only early symptom. It doesn’t always start with nausea or tenderness. And what you experienced with Theodore might not apply this time.”

Armin opened his mouth to speak again, but no sound emerged. He looked down, then slowly, hesitantly, brought his hands to rest on his stomach—almost protective, almost reverent, as though something delicate might stir beneath the skin.

He couldn’t *feel* anything. And yet…

Across from him, Erwin remained rooted in place. His hands had curled into loose fists atop his thighs, his expression unreadable—eyes wide and strangely glassy, as though he, too, were trying to grasp something intangible.

Hanji’s voice softened. “I’m not confirming anything—not yet. I’ll need to run tests. Bloodwork, a urine sample. Give me a day or two, and I’ll know for sure.”

Armin nodded slowly, almost absently. The shock had dulled everything, turned his thoughts to soft static—but under it all, there was something else. A faint warmth blooming inside him, like the quiet flicker of a candle in a long hallway.

Something ancient. Something hopeful.

Something real.

The room felt like a fragile dream suspended in silence—one that neither of them quite dared to breathe too hard in, lest it vanish. The flickering candlelight danced against the walls, casting shadows that moved like thoughts—tentative, unspoken, and heavy with meaning.

Armin sat with his legs curled beside him on the edge of the bed, hands still resting lightly on his stomach, fingers tangled together. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel. Elation? Fear? Confusion? Somehow, all of it pulsed under his skin at once. The possibility of new life, of *another* child—the very idea wrapped around him like a blanket spun of both awe and disbelief.

Across from him, Erwin had not moved much at all, save for the subtle rise and fall of his chest. He looked like a man carefully holding back a storm.

His broad shoulders were drawn taut, like a bowstring held in restraint, and his eyes—usually so steady and commanding—were softened now, almost uncertain. He was staring not at Armin, but at his hands, which were now loosely clasped between his knees. The faint tremor in his fingers betrayed the calm he tried to project.

Armin watched him in silence for a moment. Then, gently, he reached out, brushing his knuckles along the side of Erwin’s arm.

“Hey,” he whispered, voice delicate as silk. “You’re awfully quiet.”

Erwin blinked, slowly turning his gaze toward him. His lips parted, then closed again—words forming, then vanishing before they could be spoken. It was unlike him. Armin knew Erwin’s mind was always sharp, always calculating—but now, in the quiet of their chambers, that brilliant mind seemed to be running in circles.

“I… I didn’t expect this,” Erwin finally admitted, and his voice was low, nearly hoarse. “Not again. Not so soon.”

He exhaled, and his hand came up to rub the back of his neck—a nervous gesture Armin had always found endearing.

“I didn’t mean to be careless,” he added, softer this time. “I just… I remember that night, during your last heat. You looked so beautiful and tired and happy. I wasn’t thinking. I only wanted to be close to you.”

Armin’s heart gave a sharp tug at that. He shifted closer, resting a hand over Erwin’s knee, grounding him. “You weren’t careless, Erwin. We both wanted it. And even if we *are* pregnant… it’s not a mistake.”

The word *pregnant* still felt odd in his mouth. Fragile. But when he said it, Erwin’s gaze snapped to him again, this time with a rawness Armin hadn’t seen in years.

“I keep thinking,” Erwin said quietly, “about how I felt the first time. When we found out about Theodore.” His voice wavered, just slightly. “It was terrifying. I didn’t know how to be a father, much less a husband. But you… you gave me courage. And now—”

His words caught in his throat, and he looked down again. When Armin slid his fingers between his, Erwin clutched them like a lifeline.

“Now,” Armin whispered, “you’re not the same man you were then. And I’m not the same either. We’ve grown. We’ve raised a wonderful son. We’ve built something… strong.”

Erwin gave a small nod, still struggling to fully lift his gaze, though his thumb brushed gently along Armin’s knuckles, slow and reverent. “I keep asking myself if we’re ready for this again,” he murmured. “And then I realize… it doesn’t matter if we’re ready. If it’s true, we’ll face it. Together.”

Armin smiled at that. A tender, soft thing. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently to Erwin’s.

“Do you think Theodore will mind being an older brother?” he repeated, this time barely above a whisper, his breath ghosting over Erwin’s lips.

That finally drew a real reaction—Erwin let out a huffed laugh through his nose, low and unsteady. His arms came up, wrapping around Armin’s waist, drawing him close as if he were afraid he might vanish.

“He’ll be smug about it,” Erwin mumbled, burying his face into the crook of Armin’s neck. “He’ll lord it over the baby forever.”

Armin chuckled, his fingers threading into the hair at the nape of Erwin’s neck. “He’ll be a good big brother.”

There was a long pause. Then, muffled against his skin, Erwin spoke again, his voice barely audible. “I’m scared, Armin.”

Armin’s heart clenched, and he held him tighter. “So am I. But I also feel… warm. Like something is blooming. And if this is real—if we are… expecting—then it’s a part of you and me. Something made from love.”

Erwin trembled slightly against him, the weight of the moment finally breaking the dam of emotions he’d held too tightly. And Armin just held him, their bodies pressed close, their breaths slow and shared.

In the silence that followed, neither of them needed to speak. There was still uncertainty, still waiting and wondering—but also, for the first time that evening, a flicker of quiet joy. A fragile, glowing hope.

And beneath Armin’s palm, resting against his lower abdomen, he swore he could already feel it—a spark. Small. Silent.

But undeniably alive.

( Three days later )

The palace study was dead silent.

So silent, in fact, that one could hear the faint ticking of the ornate wall clock above the hearth, echoing between the shelves of dusty tomes and taxidermy birds Hanji insisted were "purely for aesthetic." Armin sat perched on the edge of the velvet loveseat, posture far too upright for someone in silk loungewear. Erwin, beside him, looked like someone had swapped out his usual composure and installed a marble statue with anxiety in its eyes.

Hanji, across from them, tapped a few papers against her knee. Not nervously—no, Hanji didn’t *do* nerves. She did suspense. Theatrical, smug suspense.

“Well,” she said finally, dramatically adjusting her glasses as she leaned forward, “I hope neither of you made any big travel plans for the next nine months.”

Armin blinked. Erwin's brow twitched.

Hanji grinned like a cat with a secret. “Congratulations. You’re officially pregnant.”

Armin sucked in a sharp breath, his hand flying to his stomach on instinct, as if the word alone had kicked something into motion. Erwin made a sound—part cough, part gasp, part existential panic—then froze, shoulders square, face blank.

And then Hanji added, with zero mercy:
“Honestly, I’m more surprised it *didn’t* happen sooner, considering how you two were going at it during that last heat.”

Erwin’s ears turned *crimson*.

He looked like someone had just pulled the fire alarm inside his brain. “Hanji,” he choked out, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, *who* was making the walls shake?” she replied sweetly, flipping the paper over like it was a dramatic script. “I’m simply a woman of science reporting observable phenomena.”

Armin groaned, half-hiding behind his hand. “You could’ve *led* with the medical confirmation instead of reliving our bedroom acoustics.”

“I’m just saying,” Hanji shrugged. “Soundwaves travel. The lab windows were rattling.”

Erwin buried his face in his hand, utterly defeated. “I will never show my face at the council meeting again.”

“Oh, please.” Hanji stood, stretching with a yawn. “Half of them assumed it was thunder. The other half are either jealous or traumatized.”

“Comforting,” Armin muttered, though his lips twitched.

Still, as the laughter faded, the weight of the moment settled over them again. Pregnant. Actually, *truly* pregnant. Armin’s hand rested over his lower stomach. Nothing felt different yet—no kicks, no weight. But the idea of something growing inside him, something *theirs*, made his chest ache with a bizarre cocktail of fear, love, and impending responsibility.

Erwin, finally lifting his head, looked at Armin with a strange softness. “You’re really…?”

Armin met his gaze, heart thudding. “I’m really.”

Erwin reached over, slowly, like Armin might disappear if he moved too fast. His palm rested over Armin’s hand, pressing it lightly against his stomach.

There was a long, quiet pause.

Then Hanji, utterly unbothered, broke it again. “You do realize that means *no more stress*, right? No more sneaking into the council chambers in your fuzzy socks to read the economy reports at 2 a.m.”

Armin scowled. “I was wearing slippers.”

“They had clouds embroidery on them.”

Erwin cleared his throat. “They were adorable.”

Armin blinked. “Wait—you were awake?”

“I always check on you.”

Hanji beamed. “Gross. Anyway. Since I’m the royal physician and the godparent of your unborn child—yes, I’m declaring that now—I'll be checking in weekly. Armin, you’re going to rest. And Erwin…”

She turned to the king with a grin too dangerous for royalty.

“Try not to hover *too* much. Pregnant people need space, not a full surveillance team.”

Erwin opened his mouth to protest, failed, and finally nodded solemnly. “I… will try.”

“You installed an extra lock on the bath chamber yesterday,” Armin reminded him, deadpan.

“You nearly slipped the day before,” Erwin muttered defensively.

Hanji snorted and waved them off. “I leave you two to your baby-induced panic spiral. I’ve got a lab full of blood samples and no one to bother me now.”

As she left, the door clicking shut behind her, Armin and Erwin were once again left alone.

The silence this time was different—full of something warm, buzzing quietly between them.

“You know,” Armin said eventually, his voice low, “we’re going to have to tell Theodore.”

Erwin groaned softly. “He’s either going to cry or demand a sword to protect the baby.”

“Both,” Armin said with a smile, leaning against his husband. “Definitely both.”

Erwin let out a slow breath, then laughed—quiet, but genuine.

He looked down at their intertwined hands over Armin’s stomach and whispered, almost to himself, “We’re going to do this again.”

Armin turned his head, resting his cheek against Erwin’s shoulder. “You’re still panicking, aren’t you?”

“A little,” Erwin admitted. “Mostly about the sleep deprivation.”

“I’ll take the night feeds.”

“I’ll bribe the staff with gold to let us sleep in.”

“Deal.”

And just like that, in the middle of the old study filled with dusty scrolls, squeaky chairs, and Hanji’s suspiciously vibrating experiment box, a new chapter quietly, chaotically began.

Pregnancy. Round two.

God help the palace.

Chapter Text

The walk back to their chambers was quiet—comfortable, but charged with an unspoken excitement. Erwin’s hand never left Armin’s, his grip steady, warm, grounding. He kept glancing at Armin, something unreadable in his expression, like he still hadn’t fully wrapped his mind around the reality of it all.

Armin, on the other hand, felt the news settle into his bones. He was pregnant. Again. It was overwhelming, thrilling, nerve-wracking—everything at once. But the part that made him smile the most was imagining Theodore’s reaction.

Oh, Theo.

Their little boy, their golden-haired bundle of energy and mischief. How would he take the news? Would he be excited? Confused? Upset at the idea of sharing attention?
“Do you think Theo will take it well?” Armin murmured, squeezing Erwin’s hand.

Erwin hummed in thought. “He’s still young. He might not fully understand at first. But I think, in time, he’ll love the idea of being an older brother.”

Armin smiled softly. “We should make it special. Tell him in a way he’ll remember.”

Erwin glanced at him, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Are you suggesting we turn this into some grand event?”

Armin grinned. “Maybe.” And so, the plan was made.

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the sheer curtains of their chamber, casting a soft golden glow across the room. Armin stirred to the familiar weight of Theo nestled against him, his small limbs tangled with Armin’s own, his head resting just below Armin’s collarbone. He was still fast asleep, lips parted, clutching his father's tunic in his tiny fists.

Erwin had already risen, his side of the bed warm but empty. The sound of soft footsteps returned a moment later as he quietly stepped back in, a tray of breakfast in hand and a fond smile on his face at the sight before him.

“Is he still out?” Erwin asked in a hushed tone, setting the tray down.

“Like a rock,” Armin whispered with a smile, brushing back Theo’s golden curls. “But I think it’s time we woke our little prince. We have something important to share.”

Carefully, he began to nudge Theo awake. “Theo, sweetheart... time to wake up.”

Theo groaned sleepily, burying his face deeper into Armin’s chest. “Nooo… five more sleeps…”

Armin chuckled. “If you get up now, there’s warm fruit pastries waiting for you.”

That got a response. Theo blinked up slowly, eyes still bleary but curious. “Really?”

“Really,” Erwin confirmed, lifting him gently into his arms. “But Papa and I also have a very special surprise for you.”

Theo tilted his head, his cheek squished against Erwin’s shoulder. “What kind of surprise?”

“The kind you’ll remember forever,” Armin said warmly.

Intrigued now, Theo let them carry him to the small seating area near the fireplace. He curled up in Erwin’s lap, still half-wrapped in his blanket as Armin knelt in front of them, his hand resting gently on Theo’s knee.

“Theo,” Armin began softly, “you know how much Papa and I love you, right?”

Theo nodded, rubbing his eye. “Mhm.”

“And you know how we always talk about how special it is to have a family?”

He nodded again, more alert now.

“Well…” Armin reached up to gently take one of Theo’s hands. “Our family is about to get a little bigger.”

Theo blinked. “...Are we getting a dog?”

Erwin chuckled quietly. “No, not a dog.”

“A pony?”

Armin shook his head with a smile. “Not a pony either. Theo… you’re going to be a big brother.”

The room fell into a hush. Theo looked between them, eyes wide as he tried to understand. He looked at Armin, then slowly down at Armin’s stomach. His little hand reached out cautiously, resting against the soft fabric.

“In there?” he whispered.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Armin said gently. “There’s a tiny baby growing there. Your little brother or sister.”

Theo was quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on his mama’s stomach. Then, slowly, his mouth opened in wonder.

“I’m gonna have… a baby?” he asked in a small voice.

Armin smiled tearfully. “*We* are. All of us. You’re going to have someone to grow up with. Someone who will look up to you, love you, and follow you everywhere. And we know you’re going to be the best big brother.”

Theo stared at his parents, as if unsure whether to smile or cry. Then, without another word, he leaned forward and wrapped his little arms around Armin’s neck, hugging him tightly.

“I love you, mama , Papa,” he whispered. “I love the baby too.”

Armin’s arms came around him instantly, holding him close, his eyes closing against the rush of warmth in his chest.

“I love you too, my sweet boy. So much.”

Theo furrowed his brows. “But how did it get in there?”

Erwin immediately cleared his throat. “Well. That is a story for when you’re much older.”

Armin smirked. “Much, much older.”

Theo pouted but seemed to accept the answer for now. Then, after a moment, his face split into the biggest grin ,When Theo finally pulled back, he turned to Erwin with wide eyes. “Does the baby know I’m here?”

Erwin chuckled, brushing Theo’s hair back. “Not yet. But they’ll know you very soon.”

Theo gasped hands gripping Armin’s tunic excitedly. “And I get to teach them things?”

“Yes.”

“And play with them?”

“Yes.”

“And—” Theo suddenly frowned. “Wait. Do I have to share my toys?”

Erwin chuckled, ruffling his hair. “Maybe a few.”

Theo pursed his lips, clearly weighing the pros and cons. Then, finally, he huffed. “Fine. But only the boring ones.”

Armin giggled, hugging Theo close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “That’s very generous of you.”

Theo beamed proudly. “Can I help with the baby? When they come?”

Erwin nodded. “You can help as much as you want. We’ll do it together. The three of us.”

Theo leaned against his father’s chest, looking thoughtful. Then, in a soft voice, he said, “We’re a real family now.”

Armin looked up at Erwin, their eyes meeting—both filled with the same quiet, overflowing joy.

“Yes, we are,” Armin whispered. “And soon, we’ll be even more.”

Erwin reached for Armin’s hand, lacing their fingers together while holding Theo with the other arm.

Wrapped in warmth, love, and the glow of something new, they sat together by the fire—their hearts full, their future unfolding gently before them.

Theodore's childish wonder never stopped , nevertheless it only grew by the second .

Armin had barely finished pulling his tunic over his head when he felt small hands press against his stomach—curious, soft, and a little too serious for a toddler at seven in the morning.

He glanced down, startled. “Theo?”

His little boy stood there in his nightclothes, golden curls tousled, eyes narrowed in deep concentration. His hands moved expertly—prodding, patting, and poking at Armin’s stomach like he was performing an important inspection.

“I’m trying to find the baby,” Theo said, frowning as he pressed again. “Papa said it’s in here, but I don’t see it.”

Armin let out a startled laugh, one hand shooting up to keep his tunic from falling again. “Theo—what are you doing?”

Theo tilted his head, tapping thoughtfully on Armin’s belly like it was a melon. “Is it hiding?”

From the doorframe, Erwin leaned in silently, his arms crossed, mug in hand, and the unmistakable twitch of amusement pulling at his mouth. He said nothing—clearly enjoying the scene.

“Theo,” Armin said, flustered, cheeks already pink, “you can’t see the baby yet. It’s still really tiny.”

“But you *said* it’s inside!” Theo huffed, now squinting at Armin’s belly like it had betrayed him. “Shouldn’t it be big by now?”

“It takes a long time to grow,” Armin tried to explain. “Months, even.”

Theo paused, mulling this over with the solemnity of a tiny scholar. Then, as if struck by inspiration, he gasped. “OH! Maybe if I talk to it, it’ll *wake up!*”

Armin opened his mouth in protest, but it was too late.

Theo took a giant breath and shouted into his stomach, “HELLOOOOO?! BABY?! ARE YOU IN THERE?!”

Erwin—mid-sip of his tea—choked, turning away to cough into his shoulder as laughter threatened to escape him.

Armin practically squeaked, covering Theo’s mouth with one hand. “Theo! Sweetheart, the baby’s sleeping. You don’t have to scream at them.”

Theo blinked up at him innocently. “But what if it’s lonely?”

Armin exhaled slowly, smiling despite himself. “I promise it’s not. It hears me all the time. And it hears you, too.”

That seemed to settle him—for a moment.

Then Theo, with the gravity of a scientist conducting an important experiment, pressed his ear against Armin’s stomach. He squinted one eye shut, holding his breath.

“Do you hear anything?” Armin asked, indulging him.

Theo nodded slowly. “...Your tummy’s making whale sounds.”

Erwin finally lost it—he turned his face into the wall to laugh silently.

Armin groaned and rubbed his temples. “That’s just my stomach.”

Theo suddenly gasped again and whispered—this time very gently—into Armin’s belly: “Sorry, baby. That was Papa’s tummy, not a monster. You’re safe.”

Armin reached down and cradled Theo’s cheek. “One day, you’ll feel the baby move. A little kick, like a tap from the inside.”

Theo’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “It’s gonna kick me?!”

“No, no—not *you.* Just me.”

Theo nodded like he’d just received classified intel. “When that happens, I’ll tell it to kick two times if it’s a boy, three if it’s a girl.”

“That’s… not how it works.”

He shrugged. “Still worth a try.”

Then, with the same seriousness he’d shown since entering the room, he poked Armin’s stomach one last time and declared, “I’m gonna be the best big brother ever. Even better than in the storybooks.”

Armin’s heart nearly burst.

He pulled Theo into his arms and kissed the top of his head, inhaling the scent of sleep and cinnamon and innocence.

“I know you will,” he whispered, hugging him tight.

From the corner of his eye, Armin saw Erwin watching them—the warmth in his gaze unmistakable. His expression was soft, reverent. Proud. The kind of look he reserved only for these rare, quiet moments when he let love fully bloom across his face.

Theo looked up suddenly. “Papa?”

“Yes, love?”

“Can the baby have a name like *Captain Jellybean?*”

Erwin coughed into his hand, and Armin almost dropped him.

“…We’ll talk about that later,” Armin murmured, already regretting every parenting book that said “encourage creativity.”

Armin’s pregnancy, in all its sleepy glory, was starting to reshape the rhythm of palace life in ways no one—especially not Armin—quite expected.

For starters, he was always tired. Not just the usual “I could use a nap” tired, but the kind of tired where he’d sit down for five minutes after a council meeting and wake up an hour later with parchment stuck to his cheek and a very concerned maid hovering nearby, unsure whether to wake him or bring him a pillow. His energy reserves were clearly being held hostage by a small, stubborn tenant in his belly, and there was no negotiating.

But the most endearing, most *Armin* of all symptoms?

His new obsession with sleeping in the sun.

He was now wholly convinced—*convinced*—that nothing soothed his soul or the baby more than curling up on a bench in the royal gardens under direct sunlight, like a very fancy, floral-scented housecat. At first, the maids were horrified to find him lying out in the open, tunic bunched up, hand cradling his stomach, snoring softly as butterflies landed on his toes.

“You’ll catch a cold, Your Grace!”

“Would you like a parasol, my queen?”

“The gardeners are asking if you’d kindly not nap on the peonies.”

But Armin would only mumble something like, “The baby likes it…” and drift right back to sleep.

The worst part? He always came back pink. Or, on especially indulgent days, bright red—like a tomato wrapped in silk.

The first time, Erwin took one look at his sunburned nose and nearly combusted.

“You are literally glowing, Armin. And not in the poetic, radiant way—more like… grilled.”

Armin, barely blinking, had replied, “A little vitamin D is good for the baby.”

“You’re pink. PINK. Please. Just wear the damn hat.”

He had, for precisely one day—before sneaking back out with two cushions and a throw blanket to nap on the lawn like a noble on summer holiday.

Erwin’s frustrations didn’t stop at the garden either.

Despite the fatigue, despite the sun-induced naps, despite his increasing need to prop his feet up every hour—*Armin insisted* on attending council meetings.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Erwin whispered one morning as Armin waddled into the chamber, belly rounding just enough to catch every old noble’s gaze. “You need rest. Let me handle it.”

“ oh spare me your long lectures ” Armin replied , brushing past him with a gentle kiss on his cheek—already halfway into his seat before Erwin could stop him.

Still, Erwin spent every meeting watching him out of the corner of his eye, ready to leap the moment Armin swayed or looked faint. More than once, he would quietly reach over and squeeze Armin’s thigh, grounding him with a soft touch and a reassuring glance whenever his eyes began to flutter shut during long-winded debates about grain tariffs.

And, of course, the council took notice.

“Should we shorten today’s session, Your Majesty?” one noble offered once, eyeing the way Armin blinked slowly at a map.

Armin smiled graciously. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

Erwin simply sighed, muttering under his breath, “Unbelievable.”

At home, it was both better and worse. Armin tried to remain the doting spouse and parent he always had been—but now, half his conversations with Theo ended with him mid-sentence, sound asleep on a sofa while Theo draped flower necklaces around his neck and whispered lullabies to his stomach.

Erwin had developed a routine of carrying his sleeping husband from various places around the palace like a very tired bridal rescue mission: from chairs in the library, windowsills in the hallway, once even from a storage room where Armin swore he’d only meant to “sit for a second to think” and ended up passed out on a pile of folded linen.

And yet, despite it all, Armin was undeniably happy.

There was a softness in him now. In the way his hand instinctively rested on his stomach when he thought no one was watching. In the way he giggled when Theo asked if the baby was dreaming too. In the way Erwin would kneel in the evenings, gently rubbing balm into his sunburnt shoulders and muttering, “You’re lucky you’re adorable,” while Armin beamed at him like a sunlit flower.

So yes—Queen Armin was slightly pink, frequently horizontal, and always yawning—but he was also glowing.

Tired. Sun-smooched. Loved beyond words.

Even if Erwin grumbled the whole time.

The palace had seen many strange things over the years — surprise inspections from Hanji, Levi chasing Eren through the halls wielding a broom, even Theo once getting himself stuck in a laundry chute — but nothing could have prepared the staff for pregnant Armin and his newfound clinginess.

It started subtly at first.

A lingering hug here, a hand sneaking into Erwin’s much larger one during a stroll there. But within days, it became very clear: Armin was a certified, undeniable, unstoppable koala.

Wherever Erwin went, Armin was not far behind — sometimes half-dozing against his arm, sometimes outright tugging at the hem of his tunic like a lost child. And Erwin, for all his commanding presence and kingly responsibilities, was utterly helpless against it.

It was especially bad in the mornings.

Armin, still warm and drowsy from sleep, would wrap his arms around Erwin’s waist, pressing his face firmly into Erwin’s chest, refusing to let go.
“Just a minute more,” he would mumble, voice muffled against Erwin’s body.

That "minute" often stretched into an hour, with Erwin chuckling and awkwardly patting Armin’s back as he tried — and failed — to pry himself away to attend council meetings.
Scenting had also become a necessity.

Armin wanted to be drenched in Erwin’s scent at all times. If he couldn't physically cling to him, he’d steal one of his shirts and wear it shamelessly around the palace — oversized and swallowing him whole. If Erwin returned from meetings without immediately hugging him, Armin would dramatically flop onto the couch, sighing heavily like a cat abandoned by its owner.

“You don't love me anymore,” he pouted once, arms crossed.

Erwin, in full military regalia, immediately dropped everything to pull him close, smothering him in kisses, whispering against his hair, “Of course I do. Every second. Every breath.”
It was adorable.

And it wasn’t just Erwin who bore the brunt of it — Theodore became his secondary victim.

The poor boy couldn’t walk ten steps through the palace without his mother swooping in like a starved bird of affection — scooping him up, spinning him once in the air, and burying her face deep into his messy blond curls with an indulgent, exaggerated sigh.

He smelled like sunshine and finger paint and something distinctly *Theo* — a scent Armin had come to crave like fresh air.

At first, Theo didn’t mind.
He *loved* cuddles.
He *loved* kisses.
He *loved* curling up in Armin’s lap as his mommy read him stories, tracing the pictures with chubby fingers and falling asleep to the sound of his voice.

But even Theo had his limits.

“*Moooommyyyyyyyy*,” he whined dramatically one sunny afternoon, squirming beneath yet another full-force snuggle attack as he sat in the garden, paintbrush in one hand and streaks of blue and yellow all over his apron. His cheeks were already smeared with color, like a tiny masterpiece in motion.

Armin had crept up behind him mid-stroke, swept him right off the little stool, and crushed him against his chest with a happy sigh.

“You smell *soooo* nice,” Armin mumbled dreamily, nose buried in Theo’s golden curls, rocking him side to side like a lullaby. “Like violets and cookies and mischief.”

“I’m *PAINTINGGGG!*” Theo wailed through his giggles, arms flailing as if trying to wriggle free — though not too hard. “You’re squishing my *art brain!*”

Armin only clung tighter, eyes closed, smile blissful. “Your art brain can wait. Cuddles now.”

Theo huffed dramatically, lower lip jutting out. “But I was making a *dragon*! With wings!”

Armin gasped softly and kissed his cheek. “Then I’ll be the princess he saves.”

“You’re already a queen,” Theo muttered sleepily, giving up the fight and resting his head on Armin’s shoulder, painting forgotten for the moment.

And Armin, utterly smitten, held him like he was the rarest treasure in the world — which, of course, he was.

It was a new routine now: Armin dragging a confused Theodore onto his lap at random times to scent and cuddle him, cooing about how perfect and warm he was. Sometimes Theo would look at Erwin with wide, pleading eyes over Armin’s shoulder, as if begging him to rescue him — only for Erwin to chuckle and shake his head. He wasn’t about to interfere with the pregnancy hormones.

And truthfully, he didn’t want to.

Because despite the clinginess, the dramatics, and the impromptu cuddle attacks, Armin looked happier than ever.

The way his face lit up every time Erwin walked into a room.
The way he curled protectively around Theo during nap times.
The way his hand constantly brushed his own stomach without even realizing it, a small, unconscious act of tenderness.

He was radiating warmth, love, life.

One evening, after Theo had finally escaped his mother's cuddly clutches to go play with the maids, Erwin returned to their chambers to find Armin curled up in the window seat, wearing one of Erwin’s old shirts again, humming to himself and looking out into the gardens.

Without a word, Armin opened his arms.

It wasn’t a request.
It was a demand.

Erwin chuckled under his breath, kicked off his boots, and strode over to where Armin waited with open arms and sleepy eyes. As soon as he sat down, Armin immediately climbed into his lap — a complicated, wiggly maneuver given the soft curve already beginning to form in his belly — and curled into him without hesitation, clinging like a little monkey seeking warmth.

“I missed you,” Armin murmured, nuzzling into the crook of Erwin’s neck. “You smell like cedar and parchment… and something warm.”

“Scent me,” he added, barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Erwin wrapped his arms around him slowly, carefully, as if holding something both precious and fragile. He pressed a kiss to Armin’s hair, then his temple, then his cheek — each one lingering. His hands, large and steady, moved gently through Armin’s curls and along his back, rubbing his scent into every bit of skin he could reach. He whispered as he did, soft as falling leaves.

“You drive me mad, you know,” Erwin said, resting his chin on Armin’s head. “The council was unbearable without your voice. I kept looking at your chair.”

Armin smiled, eyes fluttering shut. “I kept falling asleep during reports. Theo said I snore like a kitten.”

“A very tired kitten,” Erwin murmured, brushing their noses together. “You should rest more, my love. You don’t have to be everywhere.”

“I want to be,” Armin whispered. “Even if I’m tired. I want to see you. To be near you. Every time you’re gone, it feels like part of me is missing.”

Erwin’s chest tightened, full to the brim with love. He cupped Armin’s cheek and tilted his face up, just enough to kiss him tenderly.

“You’re my whole world,” he whispered against his lips. “Everything I do, I do for you. For the life growing inside you. For this family we’ve built.”

Armin let out a soft, shaky breath, his arms tightening around Erwin’s shoulders.

“And you’re mine,” he murmured back. “My king. My peace. My heart.”

They stayed like that for a long moment — hearts beating in tandem, their shared warmth pressing close. Eventually, Armin’s breathing slowed, his body growing heavier with the pull of sleep.

Erwin shifted only to cradle him more securely, one hand resting protectively over Armin’s stomach.

And as his husband drifted off in his arms, Erwin smiled to himself, eyes soft.

If this was the price of love — to be climbed on, scented, snuggled, and held accountable for every heartbeat — then it was a price he would gladly pay for the rest of his life.

A thousand times over.

Chapter Text

I don’t know when I first began to suspect.

Maybe it was the dreams.

They started sometime after the sickness faded and the sleepiness set in—that heavy, bone-deep tiredness that made the palace blur at the edges. But the dreams remained sharp. Vivid. Real in a way dreams shouldn’t be.

At first, I chalked them up to longing. A side effect of carrying life again.

But these dreams… they lingered.

Soft, golden dreams.

I kept seeing small hands. Two of them—always two. Reaching for me from sunlight. Sometimes from flower fields. Sometimes from the little hallway that leads to the nursery, where Theo keeps his toys in that lopsided wooden chest Erwin built with him.

Then, the hands became four.

Two pairs—tiny, warm, familiar in a way I couldn’t explain. Chubby fingers brushing mine. Laughter that didn’t sound like Theo’s. It was younger. Lighter. In harmony.

I felt happy in those dreams.

Not the fleeting kind, but something fuller. Like joy soaked into the bones. I’d wake up with tears on my cheeks and a strange warmth in my chest, like something long-lost had finally been found.

Still, I didn’t say anything.

Not at first.

But lately, the days feel… different.

There’s no clear shift. No obvious sign. Just a stillness in the air, as if the whole world is holding its breath. A hush before something important.

And the dreams cling to me long after I wake.

This time, it felt like a wave crashing before I was ready. Clothes became tight. My joints ached. Hunger hit at odd hours—wild, unpredictable, and constant. I’d cried one morning because the apricot jam was missing, and then again when Erwin came home with an entire cart of them, carried in his arms like sacred treasure.

He arrived breathless, still dressed in his formal attire , hair tousled from the wind. Dirt smudged the cuffs of his sleeves—he must have gone straight to the market himself which is very reckless of him .

“I’d bring the whole orchard if would you want my love,” he whispered, his voice warm with concern as he set the jars down, one by one, like fragile glass. Then he came to me.

I tried to hide my puffy eyes, but he knelt in front of me without hesitation and rested his forehead gently against my stomach. His hands wrapped around my waist—firm, steady, grounding.

“Whatever you need and desire , my love,” he murmured again, his voice lower now, like a promise meant only for me.

I ran my fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes at the touch. There was no need for explanations—he could feel it, the change. The weight of it. The vulnerability I didn’t yet have words for.

He looked up at me then, blue eyes full of questions he didn’t ask. I leaned down, brushing his cheek with the back of my fingers, then cupped his face in both hands. He leaned into it, his beard rough against my palms, his expression soft and unbearably tender.

My last straw was when it happened during the early hours of morning.

The palace was still asleep, wrapped in silence and thin layers of silver moonlight. The hearth had long gone cold, and the only sound was the faint rustle of ivy against the windows. I stirred awake not from discomfort, but from the echo of laughter *real* laughter. Not Theo’s, not anyone’s I could place. Just that same sweet, feather-light giggle I’d been hearing in my dreams for weeks now.

I sat up slowly, my breath catching in my throat.

The bed was warm behind me, Erwin’s arm draped loosely across where I’d been resting, his golden hair falling over his brow in sleep. Carefully, I slipped out from under the blanket, trying not to wake him.

The air bit against my bare legs as I stood. I reached for the robe draped over the chair—a soft, flowing thing the color of cream, trimmed with pale gold thread. The fabric whispered as I pulled it over my nightgown, the long sleeves brushing my knuckles. A faint scent of chamomile and rosewater clung to it from last night’s bath.

I padded across the room barefoot, pulled by something I couldn’t name.

My hand touched the doorframe of the nursery before I even realized where I was going.

And there—just as I stepped into the hallway—I saw them.

**Two shadows**, small and fleeting, darting past the archway as if they were running just ahead of me. Child-sized. Light on their feet. The movement was so quick, so natural, it didn’t feel eerie. It felt *familiar*.

Like I knew them.

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. The moonlight bathed the corridor in silver-blue, illuminating nothing but silence. The shadows were gone.

But the ache in my chest bloomed all at once. Not fear. Not confusion.

Just… **yearning**.

“Armin?”

His voice was quiet—still heavy with sleep—but full of concern.

I turned. Erwin stood a few steps behind, barefoot like me, his sleep shirt rumpled and falling off one shoulder, eyes still squinting against the dark. He must’ve woken the moment I slipped out of bed.

“What are you doing?” he asked gently, stepping closer. “It’s cold.”

“I… I saw something,” I said, unsure how to explain without sounding absurd. My voice was low, almost reverent. “Two shadows. Small. Right by the nursery.”

He reached me in three strides, his large hands cupping my elbows gently through the robe. “Theo?”

I shook my head. “No. Smaller. It wasn’t him.”

Erwin didn’t question me—not directly. He looked down the hallway where I’d been staring, as if he, too, might catch a glimpse of whatever lingered in the air. Then he looked back at me, gaze soft.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

“I’m not cold,” I whispered back.

I wasn’t. Despite the chill of the floor, despite the night air clinging to my skin beneath the robe… I felt warm. Almost cradled. As if something unseen had wrapped itself around me, gently, purposefully.

Erwin didn’t press. Instead, he bent slightly and without asking, scooped me into his arms.

I gave a soft, surprised sound, but my arms looped instinctively around his neck. The fabric of his shirt was warm from sleep. His skin smelled like cedar and the faint trace of ink—he must have fallen asleep at his desk again before I pulled him to bed.

He carried me back to our room in silence, the way he had when I’d been too sick to stand during the early weeks. But this felt different. Less out of worry—more out of quiet devotion.

When he set me down, it was with all the care in the world. The mattress dipped beneath our combined weight as he pulled the heavy blankets back over us. I let him tug me close.

My head rested against his chest, and his arms encircled me like they always did—protective, strong. But there was something else in the way he held me tonight. Something gentler. Reverent.

His hand settled over my stomach, fingers splaying ever so slightly.

I didn't tell him what I was thinking. Not yet.

Not about the dreams.

Not about the fullness I felt—how something deep inside me seemed to swell like a sunrise, warm and terrifyingly bright. I didn’t need to tell him, because in that moment, I didn’t feel afraid. I wasn’t even confused.

I just felt… right.

Like everything was exactly as it should be. Like whatever was coming had already nestled itself into our lives—and we were simply catching up.

Erwin pressed a kiss to my forehead and whispered, “You’re safe.”

I closed my eyes, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Tomorrow, I’d go to Hanji.

But tonight, in the arms of the man I love, held in the quiet stillness of that moonlit room, I let myself believe the impossible.

And for the first time in days, I slept without dreaming.

The clinic smelled of herbs and parchment, like always. A strange, grounding mix of dried thyme, sandalwood ink, and the faint metallic tang of aged tools. The scent wrapped around me like an old blanket, comforting in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

Hanji didn’t greet me with concern, nor with questions—just a gesture. One ink-stained hand waved me in while the other held a half-penned scroll, which she dropped unceremoniously into a stack behind her. Her sleeves were rolled up, hair an impressive mess of feathers, graphite, and what suspiciously looked like dried soup.

“You’re glowing,” she said without looking at me, her fingers already reaching for the old listening horn. “Glowing or exhausted. The line’s thin.”

“Maybe both,” I said, settling onto the cushioned bench beside the open window. The sunlight poured in, warm on my back.

“Ah, the royal condition,” Hanji murmured, dragging a small stool in front of me with one foot as she wiped her hands. “Glory, pressure, and mysterious abdominal events. Tell me, how’s the household?”

“Chaotic,” I answered with a small smile. “Theo put a duck in the bath. Erwin tried to negotiate with it.”

Hanji cackled and set her fingers gently to my wrist, checking my pulse with practiced ease. “Still better diplomacy than most of the council.”

She moved next to my stomach, leaning in with that thoughtful tilt of her head I remembered from every previous visit. Her eyes half-lidded, her breath held. The horn—worn, dented, and older than both of us—pressed to my belly.

I watched her face.

At first, she was smiling, casual. Her brows raised like she’d expected to hear something steady and simple.

Then—her expression shifted.

Brows furrowing.

Lips parting.

Adjusting.

She angled the horn again, this time slower. More deliberate.

And again.

“Hanji?” I asked quietly. My heart gave a painful, anticipatory flutter. “What is it?”

She didn’t answer. She kept listening.

And listening.

I sat up slightly, my fingers digging into the cushion beneath me.

“Hanji,” I said again, this time urgent. “Please. What’s wrong?”

She looked up—and her eyes were wide, unreadable. Not fear. Not even confusion.

Just wonder.

Then she smiled, but not her usual crooked grin. No teasing. No jokes.

It was a **quiet smile**. A careful, almost reverent thing.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said softly, her voice a whisper. “But… I need you to breathe.”

The words fell like a stone into a pond. My stomach tightened. My breath caught.

And yet…

Some part of me already knew.

She moved to sit beside me, keeping one hand gently over my stomach as if cradling something sacred. “Tell me something,” she said, looking sideways at me. “Have you felt… fuller than usual? Not just your body. Your emotions. Dreams. The weight in your chest.”

I didn’t answer right away.

The sunlight flickered over the window glass, catching in her glasses.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I have.”

She nodded. “Because, Armin… I just heard **two** heartbeats.”

Silence.

No birdsong. No wind. Just the creak of the stool and the sudden, rushing pressure in my ears.

**Two.**

The word sank into me slowly. Like water into stone.

“Two?” I whispered. “Are you sure?”

“I checked three times.” Her voice was warm but steady. “Two little heartbeats. Clear as day. No echo, no overlap. Distinct.”

**Twins.**

I stared at her, lips parted, eyes unfocused. But the strangest part—the part that should’ve made me question everything—was that I didn’t feel surprised.

Not even a little.

“I think I knew,” I murmured.

Hanji tilted her head. “You did?”

“I’ve been dreaming of… of small hands. Two pairs. Laughter in harmony. I never said it aloud, but it’s been with me for weeks.” My hands drifted to my belly, palms cupping the slight swell like I’d finally been given permission to believe it. “Like something was waiting to be acknowledged.”

Her eyes softened. “That’s how it happens, sometimes. The body always knows. Long before the mind can catch up.”

A beat of silence passed. The weight of realization hovered between us.

Then, true to form, Hanji broke it with a snort.

“Well, I suppose Levi wins the bet. He said you were carrying twins weeks ago. I told him it was gas.”

I blinked. “Levi knew?”

“He *guessed*. You know how he gets when Eren’s annoying him—he starts predicting everyone’s business to feel powerful.”

I huffed a soft laugh. “They’re still fighting?”

Hanji groaned. “Oh gods, constantly. Eren took Levi’s teacup. *The* teacup. The one with the gold rim. It’s war now.”

I winced. “That’s practically a declaration of death.”

“He took it to drink cider,” she said, scandalized. “Cider, Armin. Sweet. Sticky. Orange. Levi said he could *smell the betrayal*.”

We both dissolved into soft laughter—hers loud and open, mine watery around the edges. I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye.

But soon the silence returned, more profound than before.

I looked down again at my belly. My hands resting there. So many thoughts, hopes, fears… colliding in a quiet storm inside my chest.

“Erwin doesn’t know,” I whispered.

Hanji reached over, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Then you better tell him before he storms the clinic thinking I’ve abducted his very pregnant spouse.”

I nodded slowly.

But I didn’t stand up right away.

I just sat there a little longer, staring out at the bright morning sky—two hands over my heart, and two heartbeats beneath them.

After leaving the clinic with small goodbyes , I kept walking around in a daze still deep in thought about everything that has happened so far , without even realizing it was night time and I were laying next to my other half .

The garden glowed in the hush of night, blanketed in moonlight so soft it looked like something out of a dream. The wisteria swayed gently above, its blossoms dripping down like sleepy stars, whispering secrets to the breeze.

I stood beneath the arch, alone, wrapped in a flowing robe of pale silk that shifted like water around me. The sash was loose, tied low around my hips, barely holding together the weight of the night and the breath in my lungs. The air smelled of roses and quiet. The hem of my robe swept the dew-kissed stones, and my fingers—slender, trembling—rested over the gentle swell of my stomach.

I’d told no one where I was going. Not even him.

But I knew he’d find me.

And he did.

I felt him before I saw him—his presence unmistakable. The quiet thud of boots that had no place in a moonlit garden. A sudden shift in the wind, like even the air knew to hush in his presence. My heart began to race.

“Armin,” came his voice—low and raw, sleep-worn and laced with panic.

I turned slowly.

He stood at the edge of the garden, breathless. His robe was half-fallen from his shoulders, hair mussed, cheeks flushed. He looked like a man who’d chased a ghost, and was terrified to find it real.

“You weren’t in bed,” he said again, softer this time, like saying it too loudly would shatter the moment.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered, watching the moonlight touch the silver at his temples. “I needed the air. The night felt… clear.”

Erwin stepped forward, slow and hesitant, like I might vanish if he reached too quickly. His eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—searched me. I could see his hands shaking.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked, voice fraying at the edges. “I—when I reached out, and you were gone—Armin, I—”

“I’m here,” I soothed, holding my hand out to him. “I’m right here.”

He took it.

He always does.

As his fingers closed around mine, I guided his palm down to my belly. His breath caught the second he felt the warmth beneath the silk—the gentle curve that hadn’t been there weeks ago, now unmistakable.

His gaze flicked to mine. A thousand questions swam in the ocean of his eyes.

“I saw Hanji tonight,” I murmured. “She listened. She smiled. Then she went quiet.”

He said nothing—just stared, wide-eyed, like his soul was being pulled forward.

“There are two,” I said, barely louder than a breath. “Two heartbeats.”

Erwin didn’t move.

For a second, I thought he might not have heard me.

Then something broke.

He fell to his knees—not gracefully, not with poise. Like the weight of the world had finally dropped onto his shoulders and he couldn’t hold it anymore. His arms wrapped around my waist, and he buried his face against my belly.

A trembling breath escaped him. Then another. His shoulders shook.

“Two,” he repeated, voice thick. “Two...”

His lips brushed against the silk, reverent. His hand slid up, resting flat against the small of my back, as if trying to cradle the entire moment.

I combed my fingers through his golden hair, cradling his head. “You’re shaking,” I whispered.

“I’m overwhelmed,” he admitted, and I heard the crack in his voice—the rare, raw edge of a man laid bare.

“I’m not surprised,” I said softly, eyes turned to the sky. “Not really. I’ve seen them in my dreams. Two little hands. Two voices laughing. Two suns.”

He looked up at me then. And I will never forget that expression.

Wonder. Devotion. Grief. Hope.

“You knew before I did,” he said, as if it hurt and healed him all at once. “You always know first.”

“It’s not knowing,” I said. “It’s feeling. They’ve been with me. And now they’re with us.”

He rose slowly, his hands framing my face as if to memorize it. His thumbs wiped away tears I hadn’t realized had fallen. And then—he kissed me.

Not hurried. Not hungry. Just… deep. Full. Anchored in awe.

“I don’t know how to hold this much joy,” he whispered against my lips.

“We’ll hold it together,” I said.

His arms wrapped around me fully then, drawing me into his warmth, the way he always did when the world felt too big. I laid my head on his chest, hearing his heart thunder beneath bone and breath.

For a long while, we stood like that—under the canopy of wisteria, two hearts becoming four.

He kissed my hair. My brow. The tip of my nose.

Then he murmured, “Come back to bed, my love. Let me hold you. Let me feel you beside me. I need—” his voice broke, “—I need to keep you close. All three of you.”

I nodded, letting him guide me, his robe opened and pulled around us both like a blanket. His hand never left my belly. Not once.

As we walked back, I whispered, “Hanji mentioned Levi and Eren were fighting again.”

He chuckled, his voice husky. “They always are , if they ever stop bickering, I’ll assume one of them has died.”

We both laughed—quiet and breathless.

And when we returned to the bed, Erwin lifted me gently, like I was made of spun glass. He laid me down, curled around me like a shield, his hand spread over my belly, lips brushing my shoulder.

“Two heartbeats,” he whispered again, as if saying it could make it real.

“They love you already,” I murmured, fingers tangling with his.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this,” he said, voice low and broken.

I turned to face him, eyes soft. “You love. That’s all you’ve ever done. And now… it’s coming back to you.”

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my skin.

And as the palace fell asleep around us, I felt something flicker beneath my ribs—

A flutter.

Then another.

Erwin felt it too.

His lips trembled against my skin, and I held him tighter.

In the quiet of our room, with the moon bathing our bodies in light, I realized this was the moment I would remember all my life.

The night we became four.

--------

The fire in the hearth had dimmed to a soft glow, painting the royal nursery in golden hush. Outside the windows, the palace gardens slumbered beneath the moon, their shadows gentle, their fountains whispering lullabies to the night.

And in my arms… my heart, doubled.

Elara rested against my chest, her tiny hand gripping the collar of my robe, already so sure of her place in the world. Elisa, her younger brother by five miraculous minutes, lay nestled in the crook of my other arm — still red-cheeked from crying earlier, now soothed by the steady beat of my heart and the softness of my voice.

I rocked them slowly, my long hair spilling over my shoulders, my robe loose and warm. Their weight grounded me, filled me, as though I had never been whole until this very moment.

Just beside us, Theodore sat on a low velvet stool, legs folded beneath him, eyes wide. He’d asked if he could stay tonight. “Only if I’m very quiet,” he’d promised. And he had been — listening with the reverence of someone much older than his years.

And so I began.

*“Once upon a time,”* I whispered, *“there was a dream. A dream of laughter. A dream of sunlight. A dream of two shadows in a garden, dancing just out of reach.”*

Elisa stirred in his sleep, his lips parting in a soft sigh. Elara blinked once, slowly, her pale lashes fluttering.

*“That dream lived inside me before anyone else could see it. Before even your father, who sees everything.”* I smiled to myself, brushing a thumb over Elara’s cheek. *“I didn’t know your names yet. I didn’t know your faces. But I knew your love. I knew your light.”*

Theodore leaned closer, his chin resting on his hands now, silent.

*“There were days when I cried over apricot jam, and nights I stood at the window in a silk robe, thinking maybe I was just… imagining things. But you were there, weren’t you?”* I murmured, pressing my lips to Elisa’s soft hair. *“You were already here.”*

A log in the fire cracked gently.

*“Hanji was the first to hear you,”* I continued, letting my voice turn dreamy. *“Two heartbeats. So small, but steady. And your father…”* I paused, letting the memory sweep over me like perfume. *“Your father kissed me like I was the center of the universe. He wept with joy. He told me I had given him everything. And you know what?”*

I looked down at them — tiny stars against my chest.

*“He was right.”*

Theodore shifted, and I reached out to brush a curl away from his brow with one finger. *“You too, my Theodore. You were the first light. You made room for them. You held my hand when I was tired, and you kissed my belly every morning and said good morning to them before you even brushed your teeth.”*

He smiled sleepily, cheeks warm.

I drew all three of them closer — Elara on one side, Elisa on the other, Theo tucked under my arm now, leaning in.

I took a breath.

The softest one.

*“And that, my loves…”* I whispered, cradling them closer, *“that is the story of how you came to be.”*

*“My moon and my sun.”*

*“My stars.”*

*“My whole sky.”*

They wouldn’t remember this night, not the newborns. But I would.

I would remember how they sighed in unison when I spoke.

How Theodore laid his head against my side.

How the world, for a moment, felt entirely at peace — as if everything painful had led me exactly here.

I looked down at them once more, kissed each tiny forehead, and whispered one last time, softer than a prayer:

*“You were dreamed into being. And I will never stop loving you.”*

And in the quiet that followed, I swear… I could almost hear the stars sigh back.