Revel didn't know he'd find her there, curled on the chaise with her feet tucked under her and the large leatherback tome resting on her stomach, but then again it wasn't entirely unexpected. Elsa was an avid reader and oftentimes lost herself in a good book when she had a spare moment, which seemed to have been the case this Sunday evening. Revel had wondered where she'd disappeared to when she didn't show for their nightly walk along the parapets just after sundown—a tradition that continued even after their marriage some months ago— and now he had his answer.

Since the announcement of her pregnancy, the queen had been overrun with well-wishers and endless meeting with dignitaries and high nobles eager to attempt an early pairing with the queen's first born and their eligible children. At first it had been amusing watching his wife expertly dance around the dusty laws of marriage and tradition of succession or blatantly refusing noble requests to her unborn child's hand. Say one thing for the Queen of Arendelle: she knew every intricate nuance of her kingdom's law and wasn't afraid to lay this fact bare at the feet of upstart nobility.

"My child, regardless of its gender, will find love where he or she sees fit; therefore an arranged marriage is out of the question. Though my father may have considered the option for my sister and me, you can be certain that tired tradition ended with him."

When asked his opinion on the matter in a futile effort to keep the argument alive, Revel would merely smile, still not able to fully grasp that in just a short amount of time he would be a father. "The queen and I are of the same mind. Our children will choose their own path in life."

But regardless of her ruling and unbreakable will on the matter more and more hopeful suitors came, swamping the queen with either written requests or pursuing private audiences, cutting into her usual workday and causing it to drag on far longer than necessary. Elsa was already stressed—what with preparations for the new baby fully underway and the normal ebb and flow of ever present queenly duties—but seeing her hunched over her desk until the wee hours of the morning, fingers stained with ink and bright eyes gone dull, Revel had suggested she take a day to herself to recuperate.

"It's not that simple, Revel. I can't just walk away from my duties."

"One day, that's all. From sunrise to sunrise," he'd urged while they lay in bed together, her head resting on his firm stomach while he ran his fingers through her thick platinum hair. "Your duties will wait for one day, I can assure you. Take some time and visit your ice palace, or go with your sister down to the shore. You know how Jorg and Thea like swimming."

"I swear they're just like their mother. Mama always said Anna was a tadpole. Put her in water and swimming came naturally."

"I take it from your slightly begrudging tone that you're not as aquatically gifted as your sister?" Revel chuckled, massaging Elsa's scalp with his fingers and earning himself a few muffled purrs of blissful enjoyment.

"I've never been able to swim," Elsa admitted, surprised she'd not divulged that bit of information to her husband yet. Then again, when did they ever go near the shore or on a boat? "Oh sure, I can walk on water, but I can't swim in it."

"My beautiful heretic."

"Just like Bishop Arren always feared," Elsa laughed, scooting up until she was resting on his chest, her long arms wrapping around his waist. "I guess you're right," she eventually sighed. "I need to take a break at some point. If not for myself then at least for the baby."

"That's an excellent argument," Revel smiled, kissing the top of her head.

That had been Friday evening. Saturday was a whirlwind of a day that left little room for Elsa to do anything aside from scramble to eat a small lunch and a hurried dinner in between meetings. When Sunday arrived Revel rose early and snuck out of bed, heading for the kitchens knowing full well it would be another hour before the castle staff awoke. Gerda was surprised to find him working over one of the hearths when she pushed open the door, but Revel's presence in the castle kitchens wasn't anything new at this point. The King Consort had a love for cooking and oftentimes gave the staff evenings off while he prepared dinner for his family. Today it was a breakfast for two which Gerda helped him deliver on silver trays, her nods and smiles of approval all the reassurance Revel needed to know he'd won the service matron's respect.

So Elsa woke to breakfast in bed a full two hours past her normal waking hour: folded cheese omelets with onions and green peppers, spiced sausage, toast, tea, sliced fruit and a new recipe for blood pudding Symon had sent his older brother. Elsa was both delighted and shocked by the amount of food; her cravings as of late had been sporadic and unquenchable, which was odd for a woman who usually ate to live rather than lived to eat. The two remained in the royal apartment for quite some time after they'd cleaned their plates, enjoying a different sort of meal oftentimes shared between lovers. The rest of the day was left up to Elsa to decide what to do with so long as she went nowhere near her study; an agreement she made without hesitation or complaint. She and Revel walked through town with Anna and her children while Kristoff went to check on the ice fields with Sven and Olaf in tow—Jorg and Thea happily clinging to their aunt and mother—visiting favorite places and enjoying the fair spring weather.

Later that evening Kristoff returned and the family sat down to dinner, all of them listening to the mountain man's retelling of the day's events until Jorg decided that his mashed peas would look better splattered across his father's face rather than residing on his little plate. But that had been a few hours ago. After dinner Elsa had excused herself for some time alone—which was normal for the queen and something Revel respected—swearing she wasn't going to her study. She'd agreed to meet her husband for their nightly walk but hadn't shown, prompting Revel to go searching for her.

Smiling, the King Consort slid next to his wife on the chaise and contended himself with simply watching her sleep for a few moments, allowing time to digest, yet again, the fact that the woman laying before him was indeed his wife and this was his home and she was carrying his child. Absentmindedly he spun the white-gold ring on his left hand, the smooth metal warm against his skin.

Never in a million years would I have guess this would be my ending. A happy one had only been a hope, but now it's a reality. Oh Father, I wish you could have met her.

After another few heartbeats Revel gently slid the book out from under her hands, careful not to wake her, but Elsa wouldn't be Elsa if she couldn't be awoken by the slightest things, something Revel had discovered long ago during the time of their secret courting. The second the book slid free the blonde jerked awake with a burst of arctic air and a tiny snort, heavily lidded eyes cracking open.

"Wha…whas going on?"

"It's okay love, it's just me," Revel reassured, resting his hand against her cheek and stroking her brow with his thumb. "You fell asleep in the library again."

"Did I?" she slurred, attempting to prop herself up on her elbow but lacking the cognitive ability to do so. "What time is it?"

"Sometime after eleven, I think. You missed our nightly walk, Highness," Revel teased, brushing back a few stray strands of hair from her face. "I must say I thought you were better at keeping a schedule."

The queen snorted, shoving tiredly at her husband's shoulder. "Ass. I'll have you know I'm as punctual as clockwork….just not right now apparently."

"We've already established that."

"Here, help me up," she said, this time successfully siting up and swinging her legs over the side of the chaise.

"Nope, no walking for you, Majesty," Revel chuckled as she swooped down and picked her up, her weight comfortable in his arms.

"I'm capable of walking, good sir," the queen scoffed but was unable to hide her smile.

"Oh indeed you are, but what type of gentleman would I be if I let my sleepy wife totter back to her bedchamber when I could simply carry her?"

"You'd be a gentleman who knows that when his wife is tired she has this embarrassing tendency to fall flat on her face."

"It's tragic really," Revel sighed overdramatically as he made his way back to their bedchambers, Elsa resting her head against his shoulder while her hands came to rest over her stomach. "To think you can walk on ice like a goddess but put carpet under you and deprive you of adequate sleep and suddenly you're no better than a drunk in a bar."

"Thank you for that, Revel," Elsa deadpanned, flicking his shirt and sending a thin wave of ice skittering across it, making him jump and hiss. "Nothing warms my heart more than being likened to a pub-crawler."

"I love you?" he ventured, wincing a bit and raising his shoulders.

"Exquisite save, love, simply breath—"

Elsa was silenced when Revel's mouth closed over hers, his tongue pushing past her teeth and exploring the cavern of her mouth with all the eagerness of his first exploration. There were some things that just didn't get old, and kissing his wife was one of them, especially when he caught her off guard. Eventually he broke away and continued walking again, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watch a line of pink race across the bridge of the queen's nose.

"Were you about to say breathtaking?" he inquired lightly.

"Shut up; I hate you," Elsa grumbled, pursing her lips and looking away in an effort to hide her flush which turned into a wide yawn she could barely contain.

"I love you too, and look! It appears we've made it back to our bedchambers. Shall I carry you over the threshold like I did on our wedding night?"

"I want to watch you open that door with the limited use of your fingers," the queen grinned, settling back in her husband's arms much she would if reclining in a comfortable chair.

"You forget that I've done this before" Revel smiled wolfishly.

"Then by all mean, whisk me away."

"At your command, my Queen." And Revel did just that, flicking the ornate handle down with his fingers after a little awkward finagling and stepping into the royal apartment with a heavy sense of overdramatics. "Your room, Highness," he smirked, letting her down gently but not letting her walk away; instead looping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck and kissing her repeatedly. Elsa giggled and pretended to twist away, but was unable to stifle another large yawn.

"You're tired," Revel chuckled warmly, moving to shut the door and throw the bolt. As he walked back to her he untucked his shirt and drew it over his head, discarding it on the chair in front of the queen's vanity.

"I admit that I am a little more exhausted than I previously thought," Elsa sighed—running her hands along the tops of his arms and leaving frost in the wake of her fingers—before pulling away and walking towards her closet while attempting to unlace her bodice.

Without prompting, Revel stepped up behind her and lent a hand, deft fingers pulling the leather thong out of the silver eyelets. As the fabric of her dress fell away and he helped her pull off her underdress, the former captain turned King Consort found himself staring at the slightly raised, slightly pink scar running the length of Elsa's back starting from her left hip and ending at her right shoulder like a fault line and felt his world grind to an abrupt stop. Mouth suddenly very dry, he gently ran his fingers across the mark, the memory of the pain he and his wife had endured that fateful day barely a year ago returning to him like a dark echo with nauseating clarity. He remembered the crumbling castle and the roar of falling ice filling his ears; he remembered Elsa's blood soaked clothing and deathly pale complexion; but worst of all he remembered the handful of moments he truly believed he'd never see her alive again. Panic suddenly seized his heart, the irrational fear that this was all just some perverse fever dream brought on by the pain of loss almost swallowing him.

"Hey," Elsa giggled, twitching away from his fingers and turning, "that tick—Revel?" She frowned with concern upon seeing his pale complexion and fearful eyes. "Love, what's wrong?"

Before he could stop himself he'd pulled her to him, desperate to feel for himself that she was actually whole and healthy. "I'm sorry…" he apologize in a hoarse whispers into her shoulder, squeezing her tighter as his pulse continued to race. "I just…I need to know…"

Understanding struck the queen and she felt her stomach drop a little. "Hey, hey looked at me," Elsa urged, pulling back and taking her husband's face in her hands, his cheeks flushed and green eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm right here. See?" She took his hand and pressed it against her chest just over her heart while she did the same with her hand over the snowflake mark on his chest, "I'm here."

"I feel you," he replied, finishing the mantra that had become their calming center. After a silent moment he forced an apologetic smile, taking Elsa's hand and kissing her cool palm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin that moment. I know how self-conscious you are about your scars."

"They are a part of me now," the queen replied with a sigh of relief, "just like the mark on your chest is a part of you. No one goes through life without collecting a few scars. Yes, sometimes they bring back painful memories, but they also remind me what I could have lost but instead gained that day. I found the impossible with you," she said, pulling him down into a tender kiss. "I found my happy ending."

"And I found my family," Revel whispered in return, drawing her close until she was pressed firmly against him.

"Technically you started your own," Elsa laughed, nuzzling his chest.

"So I did," the King Consort agreed with a grin, wrapping his arms around his wife's waist and holding her there.

The queen knew what her husband was feeling and wanted nothing more than to remove the sliver of icy fear that had been driven so impossibly deep into his heart. Most days Revel was fine and remained her rock and sturdy foundation much like Anna did, but there were moments like this where Revel couldn't push aside the memory of what had happened in the ice castle and had to remind himself, in some fashion, that Elsa was still alive and unharmed. It was an internal scar the queen couldn't physically sooth, and it killed her to not be able to help him. More than once she'd wondered if this was how Anna and Kristoff felt after the Great Freeze and all the dark events that had happened since, and Elsa felt a shiver of guilt twist her stomach.

But that wasn't to say the queen's family were the only ones who carried painful internal scars. Elsa had dealt with them most of her life, but sometimes she woke struggling in the night, sweating and panicked, as she fought to pull Adrek's hands away from her throat or felt Fritz's sword bite into her side again with agonizing slowness. The nightmares usually varied in severity but they were no less terrifying, leaving the queen shaken and oftentimes in tears once Revel was able to calm her down.

"We're a mess, you and I," Elsa gently pointed out with a laugh, putting an end to the moment of dark remembrance and focusing on lighter times. She pulled her husband towards the bed and climbed onto the plush mattress, grateful for cool sheets, warm comforters, and the security of her beloved beside her.

"No one's perfect," Revel sighed with a half-smile, following her and crawling under the covers after shifting out of his trousers. He wasn't content until they lay practically on top of one another, bodies intertwined as if their combined weight would keep them anchored, faces very nearly touching. In the soft orange light of a single bedside lamp, Elsa smiled and kissed him, savoring his warm lips against hers along with the comforting heat of his body. Revel reciprocated, gently rolling her onto her back so that he could have better access to her neck and shoulders. Elsa sighed contentedly—fingers gliding through his wavy hair—then broke out into warm grin when his kisses trailed across her slightly swollen stomach and stopped just shy of her naval. Right hand splayed against the creamy white of her abdomen, Revel lay his head down against her and listened, hopeful he'd hear something—anything—that would alert him to the life slowly growing inside his wife.

"My family," he whispered, gently rubbing his hand back and forth.

"Our family," Elsa nodded, sinking back against her pillows while her fingers continued to twist in Revel's hair, happier than she'd ever remembered being.

Not for the first time Revel felt heat bloom in his chest like a nova's glow and couldn't keep the smile from his face. Dark his past might have been, but a night sky isn't simply black and blue and devoid of light. There were point of brightness he could recall, like stars glittering in the heavens, but nothing compared to the sun-bright glow of moments like these. What the future held was impossible to interpret, and there was sure to be more struggles along the way, but so long as Revel held onto these moments they would always act as a troch to light his way when darker times approached.