"...I just remembered the, uh, rumors about what you do when someone gets pregnant."

"—oh. I'm not going to kill you," he says. "I do, uh, do that. But not to you." He kisses her forehead. "I want you to be safe and happy and mine forever."

"...Yeah, but..."  she struggles for words. "It suggests--can you just make sure I don't, I would--not react well to having a child I was carrying killed. At all."

"Of course." He hugs her, gently.

"Thanks." Slightly pensive snuggle.

Forehead-kiss. "There, done."

"Thanks," she repeats. Snuggle. Sigh.

Snuggle.

"You okay?"

Wryly: "Who, me?"

"I don't see anyone else cuddling me with an ambiguously okay look on their face."

He laughs. He kisses her.

"I'm the emperor of the world," he says lightly, "why wouldn't I be fine?"

She looks skeptical but kisses him instead of pursuing it.

Snuggle. Kiss.

Kiss. "...Okay, if we're going to keep doing nothing but cuddle, let's at least do it somewhere comfier."

He laughs. "Okay," he says, and gets up and pulls her to her feet and takes her through a portal directly to the side of his bed, which may very literally be the comfiest place in the world.

!!!

It is enormous and covered in cozy blankets. The pillows are as soft as clouds. He flomps into a nest of blankets and holds out his arms.

She flomps snugglesomely into his arms.

He pulls her close and kisses her.

She kisses back happily.

Mmmmm, kisses.

Happy wriggly snugglesome kisses!

Ooh. What an excellent variety of kisses.

Yes.