Prince Consort

by vifetoile

Note: I read the Norwegian epic trilogy Kristin Lavransdatter this summer, and I learned a few things about Norwegian naming conventions of the middle ages. Norwegian surnames are patronymic – Erlend Niklausson is named because he's the son of Niklaus. These surnames also become used to indicate a group – Erlend's seven sons are, collectively, the Erlendssons. However, it is extremely bad luck or ill-wishing to name a baby after someone who is still alive.

I do have ideas for a follow-up, we'll see where they lead.

(tw: force-feeding)

When Anna woke up, there were bells ringing. More bells than had rung four years ago, when Mikael had been born. She tried to count, even though her head pounded and every part of her was sore. It sounded like… it was twice as many bells.

"Twins, your majesty!" A touch on her hand. Anna turned to see Gerda's smiling face over her. "Twins, and each as healthy as a horse."

"Oh! Oh, that's wonderful, thank you, Gerda!"

Gerda laughed. "You're the one as should be thanked. And Providence, of course."

"Are they… are they boys?"

"A boy, born first," Gerda said, "and right stubborn was he about coming out, then a little girl. I imagine you passed out right after, and who can blame you? The Prince will be in shortly. He's already talking about the Hansson and Hansdatter born now…" Gerda's face took on a closed off, suspicious look. She had that when she talked about Prince Consort Hans, these days. But Anna didn't understand why. Hans was Hans – the same perfect, adorable, sweet, thoughtful prince he had been the day they'd met at Elsa's coronation –

Elsa.

"You said one of the babies is a girl?" Anna said, gripping Gerda's sleeve tightly.

Gerda nodded, her expression tender. She knew what this meant to Anna. Anna fell back on the pillows and sighed. "Let me see them."

The door opened, and Anna sat up to try and see who would enter – but it was her husband. He carried, in his ungloved hands, a white mug full of some steaming liquid. With a jerk of his head, he dismissed Gerda, and knelt by Anna's side.

"My precious, darling wife," he murmured. "You must be so tired. Here, drink this. I fixed it myself."

"Oh, Hans." Anna took up the mug – her hands were shaking – and sipped at the drink. "Chocolate! You shouldn't have."

"Of course I should have. Nothing's too much to ask for my wifey." He stroked her hair. "You seem very weak."

"I'm fine, Hans. I want to see the babies."

"I don't think you're strong enough for it, yet."

"Of course I'm strong enough! Look," she took another sip of the hot drink, "I'm eating and drinking and everything!" She held the cup out and he put it on the bedside able. "I want to see them. Twins, Hans! Isn't that marvelous?"

He grinned. "They run in my family – I should have warned you!"

Anna laughed. "And a boy and a girl – that means we have a whole set."

"Set?" he asked quizzically.

"An heir, a spare, and a girl with pretty hair!" she giggled.

"Oh. I see." Hans smiled, but his eyes had a glazed, excessively patient look to them – Anna had seen it more and more often, this last year. Or, she'd found it harder not to see it.

"I want to see them so badly," she said to him. "Please?"

"Of course, Anna – they just need to be cleaned up and ready."

Anna laughed. "I remember when Mikael was born… Kai was so reluctant to tell me… 'Your Majesty, you've just given birth to a troll.' What a day!" She coughed. All right, maybe she was a bit peakish.

"Are you comfortable? Warm enough?" he asked. He was always so attentive. He held her hand every minute – and he wore his gloves so often, his hands were smooth and soft. She squeezed it tight as he gestured to a servant. "One at a time, I think? If there's one thing my brothers have taught me, it's that twins hate to be seen as one unit."

Anna laughed softly and squeezed his hand as Kai entered, beaming with pride, and holding a massive bundle of dark blue. As Kai crossed the room, there was a knock at the other door.

"What is it?" Hans snapped.

The door opened a crack. "Prince Mikael, Your Highness," said the slightly cowed porter.

"Oh, let him in," Anna urged. Hans smiled when he looked at her. "I suppose he can be spared from his lessons for now…" he said testily.

The door opened and little Prince Mikael hurried in, his red hair uncombed. Kai turned to him and nodded, welcoming him to Anna's bedside.

"Is that him? Is that my little brother?" Mikael asked, with reverence bordering on confusion. "I thought he'd be bigger… Wow! His hair is white!"

Anna only had eyes for the baby. "Hello, little Hansson… I'm your Mama. I love you very much." She kissed his forehead, feeling that he was a little cool, cherishing the tiny pulse working under his skin, keeping him alive. "His hair is white…" she reached out and took him, stroking his forehead and the tiny lock of hair with one hand. "It stands out, doesn't it, Mikael?" she asked her first son, "when the rest of him is so red?"

Mikael giggled, then stopped when Hans glared at him. Anna ran her fingers over the lock. "White hair… just like your Aunt Elsa, Mikael."

Hans got that glazed look in his eyes again, but Mikael nodded eagerly. "Hey, little brother," he said, leaning forward, "I'm gonna teach you everything. I'm gonna teach you about King Arthur, and about sailing, I'm gonna teach you everything I know."

"That's wonderful, Mikael," Anna smiled at him. "I'm sure you're going to be the best big brother that Arendelle has ever known." She kissed his forehead.

"Now, back to your lessons," Hans said. Mikael bowed quickly to both of his parents, and then hurried out, tucking his shirt back into his belt.

"He can be excused from his lessons for one day, can't he?" Anna asked. "It's a holiday."

"Tomorrow's a holiday, sweetling," Hans said, smiling at her. "He'll be able to play hooky and eat candy all he likes, then. Now, give the baby back… he needs to be fed."

"I can feed him—"

"No, no, you're too weak, Anna, remember that."

"I feel fine –"

"You're not strong enough to feed two; besides, it's not right for a Queen to nurse her own children."

"But I nursed Mikael –"

"Well, I was visiting the Southern Isles then," he said, smiling. "By the time I came back, it was too late. Have some more chocolate, before it gets cold."

She handed her son to Kai, and drank some more chocolate thirstily as Gerda entered, carrying the daughter.

"My daughter…" Anna reached out her arms even before Gerda reached her, and placed the baby in her arms. "Oh… Elsa," Anna sighed, staring down at the tiny, red-faced baby in her arms. She was, by all accounts, nearly identical to her brother, except that the tuft of hair on her scalp was fainter and darker. Anna held her tight and squeezed her eyes shut, wishing suddenly that she was alone.

"Um, Anna…" Hans began.

"Her name is Elsa," Anna said. Tears leaked from her eyes and fell on the white linen around the baby, who blinked up at her mother. "Oh! Her eyes – are they going to stay blue?"

"Maybe," Hans said, "You know Mikaels' were blue at first…"

"I hope they stay blue," she said, her voice breaking. "Elsa," she said, looking deep into her daughters' eyes, "You had an auntie – and her name was Elsa, too. I loved her very much, but I … we lost her. You'll learn all about her when you're older. But for now, just remember she was graceful, and clever, and beautiful, and a wise and kind Queen. And I'm… I love you very much, and I don't want you to have to be her, but you're going to be wonderful." She stopped and wiped her eyes on her pillowcase. Tiny baby Elsa was still staring at her mother, as if trying to figure out what to make of the weeping giant. "Oh, look at you," she said, "Looking at me like that. I used to confuse my sister, too." She glanced up, and saw that the newborn boy was mewling a bit. "Oh, Hansson, don't think that I'm ignoring you… it's just… I'm tired, and I've wanted a little girl named Elsa for so long. But that doesn't mean I don't love you, too…"

"What happened to loving all of your children equally?" Hans asked sharply.

Anna turned to him, her eyes wide with guilt. "Oh, but Hans, it's only our first meeting – I'm, I'm sorry, little baby, I'm just – I don't mean to be a bad mother, I'm sorry…"

"She's getting confused," Hans said to Kai and Gerda. "She might faint."

"I'm not going to faint!" Anna protested.

"Why don't you…" Hans nodded to Gerda, and Anna let the woman take tiny Elsa away. She watched the two servants leave with her babies, and heaved another sigh. She felt exhaustion in every part of her. Her limbs were leaden. She hadn't remembered feeling this bad after Mikael was born…

"Anna, take some more chocolate, while it's still warm." Hans offered her the cup, and she took a long drink. "It's wonderful… but something tastes a little different…"

"I brewed it myself," he assured her. "There's herbs and things in the milk."

"Oh, Hans, you're too good." She leaned over and kissed him. True love's kiss, just like the fairy tales promised. This was a fairy tale, she told herself. This was her happy ending. No… this was her happy beginning, with a new Elsa ('This time, I won't make any mistakes…') and … and…

"What are we going to name the little boy?" she asked Hans.

"I like the sound of Hansson…" he admitted, and then ducked when she swatted him.

"You would! But he needs… hm… Well, Mikael is named after your great-grandfather…" Hans nodded. "And Elsa is named after my sister, of course…"

"Oh, yes," Hans said, "there's hardly anyone in Arendelle who won't know you want your daughter named Elsa."

Anna stared at him. He had sounded exasperated with that last phrase. Had her insistence been annoying?

"I'm just teasing," he said, and Anna relaxed, a little – Hans had been 'just teasing' her for years now – "And you would like the new boy to be named after someone we've lost?"

"Well," Anna shrugged. "It does seem to be a theme we've been following." She laughed again, more weakly this time.

"I think," Hans said slowly, "the new little boy should be named Anders."

"Anders," Anna tried the name out. "It's a lovely name. But… there's no one in our families named Anders… is there?" her head was pounding. She wasn't feeling well at all.

"Oh, he isn't named after any man, darling," Hans turned to her, smiling again. "He's named after you."

"… Me?" Anna asked. "But… but I'm not dead. I'm not dying."

"Have some more chocolate," he said, picking up the cup.

Anna pushed his hands away, spilling chocolate over her pillow. Hans scowled at that, and didn't seem to hear when she said, "Hans, what do you mean, naming the boy after me?"

"Well, we can't name the girl after you," he said, scornfully, "not after the fuss you've kicked up –before Mikael was even born! – Oh, how I'd love to have a girl, I'd name her Elsa, a new Elsa – did it never occur to you how obsessed, how morbid you sounded? Of course, that doesn't matter now."

"Are you blaming me for mourning my sister?" Anna asked.

"It doesn't matter now, sweetheart," he said, holding wide his arms and shaking his head. "You have your precious daughter. We'll name her after your sister, just as everyone knew you would. But the son's name will sound like yours, and everyone will nod and say, yes, how fitting, how perfect, something to light up the sadness that will descend on the land…"

"Hans—"

"When the fair, beloved young Queen…"

"Hans—"

"Is found to have died, giving birth to twins..."

"HANS! I am not dying! I am fine!"

"But everyone knows, childbirth is risky. Twins are riskier still. You rallied for a bit, enough to bid farewell to your darlings, and then slipped away, to join your sister…" he held up the cup. "Have some more medicine."

"No—" Anna struggled, but he pinned her down with one arm. He had always been taller and heavier than her; she had always found that attractive, the idea of her sheltering under his shoulders. But now it terrified her, along with her weakness – the leaden feeling in her limbs, it wasn't from the birth, it was from the drink – and she tried to scream but he made her drink. The minute he relaxed his grip on her, she struck the drink from his hand, spilling it all over the floor and across the bed. Hans swore, bending down and picking the goblet up.

"I thought you loved me," Anna said.

He looked at her, his look pitying and – slightly confused. "I'm going to miss you," he said, as if admitting a profound secret, "you've always been very sweet, very pliable, and, oh, so entertaining. The times we've had… And you've given me so much, Anna. The throne, for instance…" he gestured to the room.

Anna's heart was racing. "What about Mikael? What about the years we spent together?" She asked hurriedly, wishing she knew more about biology, trying to will her heart to stop, to freeze, so it would stop pumping whatever had been in the drink all through her…

"I'm grateful for Mikael. An heir is just what I needed, ever since Elsa had her 'hunting accident' and I – I mean, you assumed the throne."

"Accident?" Anna repeated. "What – did you kill my sister?"

"Of course, I wasn't here when he was born, and I could have made things much simpler back then…"

"Did you kill my sister?"

"What? No, I arranged her death. Anyway, the twins were a delightful surprise – like you said, the heir, the spare, and the girl with pretty –"

He never finished that sentence, because Anna seized the cup and threw it at his head. It spilled everywhere and he fell onto the floor, spluttering and swearing. Anna tried to slide her legs out the beds, and felt her head spinning and heart burning. With the last of her strength, before everything went black, she screamed "GUARDS!"