Illya was certain Mother's bed was the comfiest thing that was ever created.
She knew the servants and even Grandfather disapproved when she went to join her parents, but Illya didn't care. Mother and Daddy didn't mind, and that was all that was important to her.
Illya went on her tiptoes as she approached her mother's chambers. The door was slightly ajar; she could hear her father's voice coming from within. Something he said made Mother laugh, prompting a grinning Illya to rush forward, her sense of secrecy all but forgotten,
As she pushed open the heavy oaken door she could see her father propped on one arm, his face hovering over her mother's. Daddy froze on the spot, his expression turning especially comical. Mother giggled and pushed a red-faced Daddy off her. Illya ran and leaped on the bed.
"Illya!" Daddy said as the girl pounced on him. "What are you doing out of bed at this hour?"
Illya ignored his soft rebuke and snuggled between her two parents. "Mother's bed is bigger and warmer than mine," she said, her tone half-mischievous, half-pouty. "It's too cold in my room." And when it was cold, Illya got lonely, though she didn't say that out loud.
"You're always welcome here, Liebchen," was Mother's response. She planted a kiss in Illya's hair. "It is big enough for all three of us."
Daddy's smile was a little crooked. "I'm even starting to get used to a certain someone kicking me in the ribs in the middle of the night." Illya grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it. He began to rub his thumb across the back of her hand. He suddenly appeared lost in his thoughts.
"Oh, Kiritsugu, don't get all grumpy on us now," Mother admonished.
Illya scowled. Sometimes, Daddy acted all distant and sad when he was with Illya and her mother. Illya didn't like it when it happened. She pinched him.
"Ow! Illya, that hurt! What did you do that for?" Daddy was laughing again. Illya's frown eased into a smile.
"Yeah, don't get grumpy!" she said. "You're not allowed to get grumpy!"
"As decreed by Her Highness, Lady Illya!" Mother said with a chuckle. She drew all three of them into a crushing hug; Illya closed her eyes and inhaled her mother's characteristic scent. It was pure, like freshly fallen snow, a great contrast from the faint smell of tobacco that hung on Daddy. "We'll spend all the time we can as a family. You don't need to think of the future, Kiritsugu. Just think of the present moment."
Illya hadn't understood what her mother had meant back then. Daddy was back to being happy, and that was enough for her. She eased into her mother's arms, letting the soft noises of her parents' voices lull her to sleep.
Even though it was well past midnight, Illya found her mother still awake. The Lady Irisviel was sitting upright in her bed, a book laying open in her lap. She bit down her lip at the sight of Illya, but otherwise said nothing.
"Mother?" Illya began, peeking from the open door.
Mother gestured at her to come forward. Illya let herself be enveloped by her soft, warm arms.
"Have trouble sleeping too, Liebchen?" Mother asked Illya. The latter nodded. "I miss him too."
"When he is coming back? Why does it always take so long whenever he leaves?"
"Your father has to travel a lot for his work, you know?" Mother replied. "He doesn't want to leave either. If it were up to him, he'd come back as soon as he had left."
Illya hoped her mother hadn't seen her pout. "I wish he'd never left. I wished he'd never leave."
"Maybe someday he won't have too," Mother said in a faraway voice. When Illya looked at her with knitted brows, Mother shook her head. Illya waited for her to say more, but Mother just smiled and closed her book. Illya's eyes widened as she saw the cover.
"That's one of my books!" she said. "Daddy brought it back from Japan."
Mother gave an embarrassed laugh. "He bought another copy for me. I need to practise my kanji or else it's going to be dreadful when I will finally go to Japan!"
"But Daddy's been teaching you for years! And that's a book for little kids!"
Mother glanced at Illya with a sheepish look. "I'm just not as good as you are, Illya. Kiritsugu told me you know more kanji than a Japanese child would at your age." Illya couldn't help but echo her giggle as her mother encircled her in a sudden hug. "I can't believe I gave birth to such a smart and cute daughter!"
Illya fought hard to keep herself from puffing her chest in pride. "I have to learn too, or else I won't be able to get to Japan with you and Daddy!"
Kiritsugu had promised her they would visit his country of birth one day. He was the only one with whom she was allowed to get out to explore the family estate. Among the castle folks, only the humans could leave without having to ask Grandfather's permission first. Mother was a Homunculus, though, and so she had never set foot outside. She was too precious, Grandfather had once explained to Illya.
(But only when she was older did Illya realize just what that Jubstacheit von Einzbern had truly meant by that.)
Mother smoothed down Illya's hair with a soft smile. "I'm sure he'll be delighted to take you."
This time, Illya did notice the hint of sadness in her voice. She didn't know what to make of it, however, so she simply laid her head on a pillow, closed her eyes, and prayed her father would return soon.
Mother's bed was too big for Illya alone (too empty, a little voice in her voice would also say) but she stubbornly refused to sleep in her own room.
It seemed Grandfather didn't mind anymore. For all intent, she had become the Lady of the Einzbern family. They were even talking of moving her things to Mother's chambers now that she had all but claimed them for herself. Illya didn't know how to feel about that. Mother's room belonged to Mother, but…
It had all started one year ago, when Mother and Kiritsugu had left for Fuyuki City (the city of winter trees, what a beautiful name! she had told her father excitedly), on important business. Illya didn't quite understand just what they would have to do, but she knew it was something dangerous. She had tried to be brave, just like they had asked of her, but the nights had been so long, the nightmares had been just too scary. In the week after her parents had gone, Illya's dreams had been full of dark and frighteningly unknown things; at first, Illya always felt her mother's presence at the edge of the dreamworld, and without fault Irisviel would storm in to save her daughter from the nameless horrors that had been terrifying her. But the last nightmare had left Illya screaming as she woke. She had dreamed that she had been pierced in seven places, that seven lumps had then begun to grow inside her body until they burst right out of her. Blood had poured out of he—a thick, black blood that burned her skin like fire—and she had died drowning, the fiery liquid scorching her mouth and her throat and her lungs. Mother had held her in the dream world to stop her tears, but when she had awoken, Illya had only found an empty bed, the sheets cold with her sweat.
The very same morning, Grandfather and the heads of the family had convened her to a meeting. Illya respected and even admired Jubstacheit von Einzbern (although she was also a little frightened by him), but on this day she'd hated him and the way he and the others had looked down at her, their ancient faces clad in shadows. None of them possessed the vivacious warmth of her mother or the gentle protectiveness of Kiritsugu. None of them even cared a whit about her, she was beginning to realize.
As was customary for him, Grandfather hadn't wasted any time on preambles. "Kiritsugu failed," the old man had said, voice devoid of any inflection. "He betrayed our family's cause, leaving your mother to her death in Fuyuki City."
"Liar!" Illya had shrilled. "Liar, liar, liar!"
Grandfather had explained more then, but Illya had been past caring. She had flung herself at him, screaming, and the servants had to drag her back to her quarters—her room, not Mother's. She had pounded on the locked door, shrieking until she was out of breath, then curled in a ball under her bedsheets. They mostly left her alone afterwards, and the only faces she would see belonged to the Homunculi servants who would bring her food. All of them looked eerily like her mother.
The weeks, the months passed, and Kiritsugu never came back. The truth sank in as frost began to grow on the windows in Mother's room. Winter had arrived both for Illya and the outside world. Kiritsugu had indeed abandoned her and Mother, bringing nothing back to honour her sacrifice—her death was senseless. Little by little, Illya retreated behind icy walls of silence and grief. She rarely left Mother's bed, rarely addressed a word to the servants who tended to her. Their faces—blank masks that held so much yet so little of the lovely features of Irisviel von Einzbern—twisted the knife further in the wound, but Illya said nothing. The words had dried in her throat.
The dam was broken one year after the end of the mission that had cost the life of Illya's mother.
Kiritsugu was still alive in Fuyuki City.
Illya couldn't believe her ears as Grandfather spoke. She knew her father had survived the events of the fourth Holy Grail War, but she hadn't heard of him since then. Grandfather's voice held a hint of spite as he explained what his informants had told him.
The past year, Kiritsugu had lived his life in simple anonymity, in his old family home in Japan.
By his side was some orphan boy he had adopted not long after the end of the war.
His name is Shirou, Grandfather said. A boy of eight, unremarkable in every way. Do you know why Kiritsugu might have done this? Did he want an apprentice, an heir to carry on the Emiya name and family secrets? What is he seeking, Illyasviel?
Shocked mute by the old man's words, Illya shook her head. She couldn't even summon the strength to call him a liar. She simply clammed up, and left for Mother's chambers without so much a glower.
Illya looked mutely at the room. The servants had made the bed; still, it did not look like Mother's bed, not without the mountain of cushions that Irisviel and Illya had used to construct forts when Kiritsugu hadn't been around. The dresser was closed, and it would stay closed—Illya now knew she would never be big enough to put on her mother's clothes. Illya's eyes came to rest on the nightstand by Mother's bed. Books with colourful covers laid unread, unopened.
"I have to learn too, or else I won't be able to get to Japan with you and Daddy!"
"I'm sure he'll be delighted to take you."
The screams of rage poured out of her like an ice-cold torrent.
A/N: Just a little something I thought of while thinking of the Emiya-Einzbern family (sobsobs). There's not a lot of info going on about the Einzberns in general, so I hope I didn't steer too much from canon. Reviews would be appreciated!