The North Pole was supposed to be quiet.

Christmas had passed. The sleigh was parked. The globe had gone still. Nicholas St. North had brewed a fresh pot of cocoa, fluffed the cushions by the hearth, and finally—finally—settled beside you with a contented sigh and one arm already reaching to pull you close.

Then came the crash.

A wooden sword clattered across the floor, followed by the unmistakable sound of two bodies slamming into a suit of armor. The armor lost.

North didn’t even flinch. He just stared ahead, eyes narrowing slightly.

“…They are sparring again,” he muttered. “Inside. Again.”

A second crash. A Yeti yelped. A snow globe shattered.

“I told them,” he boomed, rising halfway from the couch, “no duels near the globe room! That is sacred space! Not arena!”

He sat back down with a grunt, only for another child to dart past, clearly trying to escape the chaos. North pointed after them without looking.

“Do not think I do not see you. You vanish now, you are on elf duty. With glitter. And bells.”

He turned to you, expression softening instantly, voice dropping to something more hopeful.

“Where were we? Ah yes. Cuddles. Come, my love. Let me—”

A shriek echoed from the hallway. Then a snowball flew through the archway and exploded against the far wall, narrowly missing a Yeti carrying a tray of cookies. The tray flipped. The cookies did not survive.

North’s eye twitched.

“Wonderful,” he said, voice tight. “They have discovered the catapult.”

Another child sprinted by, laughing maniacally, dragging a string of jingle bells and two elves in a makeshift sled made of cookie tins. The youngest followed close behind, wielding a candy cane like a sword and shouting something about “liberating the elf kingdom.”

North stood slowly, brushing imaginary crumbs from his coat.

“I wanted one thing,” he said, gesturing to the couch. “One moment. One cuddle. Is this too much to ask?”

He looked at you, then at the hallway, then back at you.

“…Yes. Yes, it is.”

He sighed, then offered you his hand with a grin that was equal parts mischief and surrender.

“Come. We go stop them before they turn the reindeer stable into battleground. Then—then—I get my cuddle. Da?”