The atmosphere in the great hall was… awkward.

It wasn’t the heavy, political kind of silence that usually filled the council chamber — no, this one was gentler, more fragile.
The kind of quiet that trembles right before a child bursts into tears.

Noah sat perched on North’s lap, small legs swinging restlessly, his tiny fingers poking curiously at North’s now-rounded belly. The curve of it pressed against his palms, warm and unfamiliar beneath the fabric of North’s robe.

“Belly,” he said matter-of-factly, his bright eyes wide with curiosity. Then he poked again. “Belly big.”

North flinched slightly at the jab, trying not to smile. “Gentle, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing his son’s hand away softly.

But Noah was relentless. “Why big?” He tilted his head, curls bouncing, face scrunching in that way that always made North’s heart melt — half confusion, half suspicion.

Across from them, Johan, who had been seated with all the casual composure of a king moments ago, suddenly found the distant window extremely interesting.

North’s gaze sharpened. “Johan,” he said quietly, the faintest edge of warning in his tone.

Johan didn’t move. He didn’t blink.
He might as well have turned to stone.

“Johan,” North repeated — slower this time, soft but commanding.

The king cleared his throat, feigning innocence. “Hm? Did someone say my name?”

North sighed, patience thinning but voice still calm. “You’re explaining it to him.”

At that, Noah turned toward his father, eyes round and expectant. “Papa?”

Johan froze again, caught between two pairs of very different stares — one curious, one deadly calm. He managed a weak smile. “Ah… yes. Of course. My young prince…”

He knelt before them, lowering himself to Noah’s height, trying his best to look reassuring. “You’re going to be a big brother.”

Noah blinked. “Big… brother?”

“Yes,” North said softly, his hand smoothing down Noah’s back. “There’s going to be a baby. A tiny one.”

“A baby,” Johan repeated carefully, forcing a smile. “Soon, there will be a small baby in the palace. Someone you can play with. You’ll help us take care of them.”

The room fell silent.

Noah’s brows furrowed as he tried to process the words. His lips parted slightly, then closed again. His little fingers fidgeted with the hem of North’s robe.

Then his chin wobbled. Once. Twice.

And before either parent could react — his cheeks puffed, eyes welled up, and his mouth turned down in that trembling, doomed-to-explode way.

“Oh, no,” Johan muttered, already rubbing a hand down his face. “Here we go…”

Noah turned, burying himself into North’s chest, clutching fistfuls of his robe as if the world had betrayed him. “Bad Papa!” he wailed, voice cracking with heartbreak. “Papa lie! Papa promised no baby!”

North blinked in surprise, arms instinctively wrapping around the little boy. “Oh, sweetheart—”

Noah sobbed harder, words tumbling out between hiccups. “Papa said baby steal North! Baby take you!”

North’s eyes flicked up sharply to Johan.

Johan’s face froze in a grimace. “I—well—it was a joke—months ago—”

North’s glare could have melted gold.

Johan raised his hands defensively. “He was crying about me teasing him! I didn’t think he’d remember!”

“He’s your son, Johan,” North said icily, cradling Noah closer. “Of course he remembers.”

Noah clung tighter, tears soaking into North’s collar. “No baby! No share North! Mine!”

“Oh, darling,” North murmured, rocking gently, pressing kisses into his curls. “No one is taking me away. You’ll always have me, my little one.”

Noah hiccupped, peeking up through watery lashes. “Promise?”

“Promise,” North whispered, his voice soft as velvet.

He brushed his thumb across Noah’s damp cheek. “You’ll still sleep in your room, I’ll still sing you songs, and I’ll still tuck you in every night. Nothing changes that.”

Noah blinked, lips quivering. “But… baby?”

Johan, heart aching now, slowly reached out. “You’ll be a big brother, Noah. You’ll help teach the baby how to play, and how to laugh, and how to run through the halls just like you do.”

Noah sniffled suspiciously. “Teach… baby?”

“Yes,” Johan said, smiling gently. “You’ll be the best big brother. The baby will look up to you.”

North added softly, “You’ll show them how to make towers with blocks. How to chase butterflies. How to sneak cookies when Papa and Dada isn’t looking.”

That earned a small sniff-turned-giggle. “Sneak cookies?”

“Yes,” Johan said, relief washing over him. “You’ll be partners in mischief. Imagine how much chaos you’ll cause together!”

But then, perhaps out of habit, he added with a grin, “they might steal North from me too.”

Noah froze. His lip wobbled.

“Johan!” North snapped, shooting him a glare sharp enough to cut marble.

“Right! No stealing, none at all,” Johan said quickly, waving his hands. “Bad joke. Very bad. Forget that.”

But it was too late — Noah’s little chest hitched again, his mouth opening with the start of another wail.

“Shhh,” North soothed quickly, cupping Noah’s cheeks. “My precious love, no one can steal me. You have all my heart, all my love.”

Noah’s breathing hiccuped, trembling, eyes big and glistening. “All love?”

“All love,” North said firmly, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “Every bit of it. Always.”

There was a long, fragile pause — then, slowly, Noah’s little fingers unclenched from North’s robe. He leaned forward and pressed his tiny forehead to North’s chest, breathing in deep, shaky breaths until his sobs finally quieted.

Johan, watching, exhaled in quiet relief. He leaned closer, his voice low and tender. “That’s our brave prince. You did so well.”

Noah sniffed, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. “Still no baby steal.”

“No one will steal,” Johan promised solemnly.

North smiled, brushing away the last tear that clung to Noah’s lashes. “See? Everything’s all right.”

For a few moments, the hall filled with only the sound of soft breathing and the quiet rhythm of comfort.

When Noah’s tears had completely dried, Johan reached out and gently kissed his cheek. “My little warrior,” he said softly.

Then he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to North’s cheek. “And you, my heart.”

But Noah immediately frowned, puffing his cheeks, and grabbed North’s face possessively with both hands. “Papa no kiss Dada today!” he declared, still sniffling, glaring at Johan with watery determination.

Johan blinked, startled — then chuckled softly. “No kiss?”

Noah nodded firmly. “Only me.”

And, with royal gravity, he pressed a tiny kiss to North’s cheek. “There.”

North laughed softly, hugging him close. “Thank you, my love.”

Johan sighed in mock defeat, chuckling. “The fiercest ruler in all of Avenlor.”

“And the most loved,” North murmured, resting his cheek against Noah’s hair.

The sunlight slanted low through the tall windows, bathing them in gold — and in that quiet warmth, surrounded by laughter and forgiveness, the family of three felt perfectly, peacefully whole.

_____________✿______________

The afternoon sun spilled lazily through the high windows, turning the nursery gold. Outside, the courtyard fountain sang its steady tune, and somewhere in the distance, a gardener laughed.

Inside, peace reigned — if you ignored the steady sound of wooden blocks collapsing.

Noah sat on the carpet, tongue peeking between his lips as he stacked blocks higher and higher, his curls falling into his eyes. “Tall!” he declared proudly.

A moment later, the tower tipped.

“Uh-oh.”

Then came the inevitable crash.

North chuckled from where he sat curled on the couch, a hand resting absently on his rounded belly. “That’s your fifth castle today.”

Johan, leaning against the doorframe, folded his arms, his smile betraying amusement. “An ambitious builder. Or a very determined demolisher.”

“Boom!” Noah shouted, throwing a block for emphasis.

“Ah,” Johan said gravely, “the demolisher wins again.”

North laughed, a quiet sound that softened the air. “He gets that from you.”

Johan came over, pretending offense. “Me? Never. I build nations, not chaos.”

Noah, having lost interest in architecture, toddled toward the couch and climbed up, settling himself comfortably beside North. His eyes landed immediately on the curve of North’s belly, round beneath soft fabric.

“Still big,” he observed with solemn wonder.

“Yes,” North said, brushing his son’s curls aside. “Still growing.”

Noah pressed his palm against it gently. “Why still big?”

North smiled faintly. “Because the baby’s growing too.”

Noah leaned closer, ear pressed to the bump, listening like a secret spy. “It say something?”

Johan chuckled. “Maybe it’s whispering.”

“Shh,” Noah hissed, holding up a chubby finger to his father. “I listen.”

Johan raised his hands in mock surrender, lips twitching with laughter.

But then, the air shifted.

A tiny flutter — so light North almost doubted it — brushed from within. He froze, breath catching softly. Then came another. A soft, rhythmic kick beneath his hand.

“Oh…” North exhaled, wonder flickering through his eyes.

Johan straightened instantly, concern threading his voice. “What? What’s wrong?”

North shook his head slowly, smiling. “Not wrong. It’s—” he took Johan’s hand and guided it to his belly “—it’s moving.”

The warmth of Johan’s palm rested against his skin. A heartbeat later, a small kick greeted him.

Johan stilled completely. His expression — usually so composed, regal, certain — melted into pure awe. “I felt it.”

His voice cracked just slightly, caught between disbelief and tenderness.

Noah gasped. “Move again!” He pressed his hand beside Johan’s, eyes wide with wonder.

Another soft kick.

Noah shrieked in delight. “It say hi! It say hi!”

Johan laughed, the sound unguarded and bright, the kind that still caught North off guard — the kind that reminded him Johan wasn’t just a king, but a man falling in love with something new every day.

“Hello there, little one,” Johan murmured to the bump, his voice low, reverent. “I’ve been waiting to meet you.”

North watched him quietly, his throat tightening. It hit him, suddenly, that this was Johan’s first time — the first flutter beneath his touch, the first realization that something was truly growing between them.

The weight of it made North’s eyes sting.

He reached for Johan’s cheek, brushing his thumb along his jaw. “You feel it?”

Johan nodded wordlessly, still staring at the gentle curve of movement. “I… can’t believe it,” he whispered. “It’s real. All of it. You. Them.”

North smiled, soft and full. “It’s real.”

Johan leaned in, forehead pressing gently against North’s. “You’re incredible,” he murmured.

“I’m tired,” North corrected with a laugh, and Johan’s chuckle vibrated against his skin.

From between them, a small voice piped up indignantly. “No kiss now!”

They both turned to see Noah pouting, arms crossed, glaring at Johan as though he’d just committed treason.

Johan blinked, then bit back a laugh. “Again?”

“No kiss. My turn,” Noah insisted, scrambling up onto North’s lap with determination.

“Go on then,” North said, smiling through amusement.

Noah leaned close, pressed a small kiss to the bump, and whispered, “Hi, little baby. I’m Noah. Don’t make Dada tired, okay?”

North’s breath caught — it was such a simple thing, but full of sweetness that made his heart ache. “They’ll be gentle,” he promised.

Johan, still crouched beside them, reached out and smoothed Noah’s curls. “You’re going to be the best big brother,” he said softly.

Noah smiled shyly. “Baby like me?”

“Already does,” North said.

Johan nodded. “So do we.”

For a few moments, the three of them just stayed like that — Johan’s hand warm over North’s, Noah pressed between them, the baby’s tiny movements still fluttering gently beneath their touch.

It was quiet, the kind of quiet filled with heartbeat and love — the kind you wish you could bottle and keep forever.

Johan leaned in and kissed North’s cheek softly. “Thank you,” he whispered.

North looked at him with a small, knowing smile. “For what?”

“For them. For this. For… you,” Johan said quietly. “I’ve fought wars and signed treaties and faced kings — but this… this is the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen.”

North rested his head against his shoulder. “Then promise me you’ll remember it on the sleepless nights to come.”

Johan laughed under his breath. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re telling me it’s my turn to hold the crying one.”

Noah yawned, curling against North’s side, eyelids heavy. “Baby sleepy now,” he murmured, already half-dozing.

“So is our little prince,” North whispered, brushing a kiss to his hair.

Johan smiled, watching them — his family, small and perfect and impossibly his. He bent down, kissed Noah’s cheek first, then North’s.

This time, Noah didn’t protest. He only sighed contentedly and mumbled, “Papa no loud,” before drifting fully to sleep.

North laughed softly. “He means no talking.”

Johan whispered back, voice full of warmth, “Then I’ll just listen.”

And for a long while, that’s what he did — listening to the quiet breath of his son, the faint stirrings of the life within North, and the steady rhythm of love that filled the golden afternoon.