Hey guys! :)

This is a little drabble. I figured that I could end this one-shot series with a cute little drabble. Sort of. It's longer than a drabble, but shorter than a one-shot. (Yeah … I might've forgotten to mention last chapter that this collection of one-shots/drabbles was ending. Oops?)

The sections labelled "xi" and "xii" apply to both the "i" and "ii" stories ... think of those parts as the same beginning and ending as two generations of the Royal family.

Hope it isn't too confusing for you.

Happy reading!

•A New Beginning•

xi.

It was a world of white as he stepped out of their cabin, his wife following suit. He squinted through the snow and locked eyes with his bride. Her eyes were shining with joy. It rarely snowed in Angeles, so, when he decided to take his new Queen out to Yukon to spend their first Christmas as a married couple, he knew that it would be something special … something that both he and his wife would remember—forever.

"It's snowing!" she exclaimed happily, hands flying up to cup her face, as though she was a child.

He laughed and drew her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. "So it is," he agreed, resting his chin on the top of her head.

i.

"So, my dear Amberly, do you like this surprise?" I asked her.

"Yes!" she cried. "Clarkson … thank you."

"Anything for you, my dear." I smiled unwrapped my arm around her waist, and offered it to her. "So, my Princess, what should be do right now?" I asked her. Instead of taking my arm, as I expected for her to do, she shook her head, and gently lowered my arm until it dangled by my side. She slipped her small hand in mine and linked our fingers together happily.

"I think …" she said slowly, bending down, and gathered some snow into her left hand, as her right was connected to mine. In a fluid motion she crushed the pile of snow into a quick little ball and whipped it at me. I was caught off guard, and couldn't dodge the snowball. It hit me square in the forehead and slid down my face. I stood there, frozen in shock. Amberly, taking advantage of my surprise, threw another snowball at me, snickering. "… we should have a snowball fight," she finished, a gleam in her eyes.

I wiped the snow off my face with my sleeve. "Oh, it's on," I told her, an evil grin on my face.

She giggled and ran around me, and threw a snowball at my back. I waited for her to run towards me again with another snowball. When her arm was close to my face, I took advantage of the proximity and lunged for her waist. I caught her (barely) and held her in my grasp, deftly latching on despite her kicks and punches (aimed supposedly at my face and arms). "Let me go!" she said in a jokingly frantic voice, squirming around.

I put my mouth close to her ear. "Not a chance," I whispered in a low voice.

She opened her mouth to object, and I used that opportunity to dump some snow into her mouth and give her a facewash. She squeaked in surprise and glared at me. "Clarkson!" she protested, after spitting out (and swallowing) the snow.

"You're welcome," I told her. I knew that I would have to uphold my duties as a prince and be more civilized and uptight upon our return to the palace as Crown Prince Clarkson and Crown Princess Amberly, but for now, when it's just Clarkson and Amberly, goofing off and acting like eight-year-olds having a snowball fight, we couldn't have cared less about decorum.

ii.

"Carolina never had this much snow in winter …" America said in a tone of awe, partly to her herself, partly to me.

I chuckled. "I know. You like it?"

"Of course I do!" she cried indignantly. "It's snow! Everyone loves snow!" She paused. "Actually, not everyone," she amended. "My neighbour hated the snow and would complain every single time I saw her about the, and I quote this part, 'White fluffy annoying stuff that gets in everyone's way.'"

I barked out a laugh. I turned and saw America staring thoughtfully at me, her head tilted to one side.

"By the way," she started, "did I ever tell you how I love your laugh? It sounds like a cough and a wheeze, like you have asthma, but I find it hilarious and adorable."

I stopped laughing, and turned to her, faking a frown. "What?" I demanded. "What did you say? How dare you insult the Crown Prince so!"

America snorted. "I said," she said slowly, and deliberately, taking the time to enunciate each word, "that your laugh sounds like you have asthma, but it's adorable—or, rather, adorkable."

I gasped. "How dare you!" I said dramatically. Then, on a sudden impulse, I told her, "That's it, no more snow for you." I grabbed her hand and hauled her back into the cabin.

"Maxon!" she complained. "The fun was just getting started!"

"Oh, dear. This is—"

"I am not your dear!" America huffed, crossing her arms.

"—going to be a long night," I finished.

"Your attempt at a joke was terrible," she told me. I rolled my eyes, responding that the joke wasn't supposed to be funny, it was supposed to annoy her, in which she playfully punched me in the arm.

"Come on," I told her, smiling. "Let's get some cider or tea or coffee or whatever we can find in here and cuddle, okay?"

My wife sighed and gave in, taking my hand and pulled me towards our little kitchen.

After we finished making our hot cocoa, we carried our drinks to the living room and sat in front of the fireplace, America laying her head on my shoulder and occasionally lifting it to take a sip out of the dark brown liquid.

We sat there in comfortable silence—for how long, no one knows.

America's complaint of missing out on some "snow time" had long faded. Snow wouldn't last that long—maybe two months, three months at most.

But our love? Its lifespan was far greater than any snow could possess. Snow was temporary. Our love was forever. I was sure of that. Although my father felt that I was the one at fault for falling in love with her and wanted to marry her, he was the one at fault. He didn't understand love.

Or maybe he did. Briefly, when he married my mother.

At that, I felt a sudden longing for my mother. I still missed her. My father, too. (A bit, I guess. Even though he did all those cruel things to me, he still was my father.)

"I feel like an old lady, just sitting here on this couch in front of the fire," America joked, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts.

"It doesn't matter," I murmured to her, kissing her temple. "Because, one day, when we're both old and wrinkled and waddle rather than walk, we'll probably end up in this very position one day."

"And still be totally in love and act like how May does when she's around her boyfriend?"

"And still be totally in love and act like how May does when she's around her boyfriend," I confirmed with a smile. "I'm sure of it," I added, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

xii.

He stared at the blonde-haired child in front of him. It was his baby. His and his wife's. Their perfect, 7-month-old little baby boy. And he was crying. At three in the morning.

It wailed again, louder, and he slowly picked it up, grimacing, patting his bottom and rocking it. Handling babies were definitely not his strong suit. He glanced at his wife, who was sitting on their bed. "You're doing a good job," she told him in a soft voice. "It's okay; don't be scared. It's not going to bite you."

"You sure about that?" he asked her, nervously.

"Fairly."

Just at that moment, their son picked the moment to stare wonderingly at the King's fingers, reach for one, and—

CHOMP.

He howled in pain. "Hey!" he protested, nursing his wounded finger. "You said that it wouldn't bite!" he complained accusingly to the woman sitting nearby. Even if the baby had only four teeth, it still hurt.

His wife's shoulders moved up and down in laughter. "I said 'fairly,'" she corrected him, smiling.

"Fairly or not, that sure hurt as he—" he started, but, noting his wife's glare, finished, "heck. Who knew babies were this evil?"

"They aren't evil. They're just babies—exploring their world. And your finger happened to interest him enough to chomp on it."

"I don't like getting bitten," he grumbled. "And I certainly don't like getting waken up in the middle of the night."

"You'll have to get used to it," she told him. "It's a new beginning, a new chapter, for both of us."

He stared at the child in his arms once more, albeit warily. "A new beginning," he echoed. "Sounds about right."

I've dealt with babies before, but I seriously haven't gotten bitten by one yet, so I'm thankful for that :P (Actually, I'm not sure if newborn babies bite … let's pretend they do, okay? ;D)

Reviews:

Kinder forever: Lol I totally get where you're coming from. Having semester courses sucks, but at least, during finals, it won't be that stressful :D Thanks!

XOStarbrightXO: I'm glad that you connect with last chapter's one-shot :) Yeah, he's pretty mature for his age, huh? I wanted the hero in that one-shot to surprise everyone :P Thanks!

Anyways, thanks for the 21 favourites, 21 follows, and 65 (and counting) reviews, as well as the 13 000+ views! I am so thankful for each and every review and view, and that you took the time to read these short stories. When I started this collection of one-shots almost a year and a half ago, intending this to be a little side project for my random mind to make up even more random stories, I never expected this to have so many favourites, follows, and reviews. I'm sad, too, that this collection is ending, but, well … everything does have to come to an end, so … yeah.

Oh, if you're a fan of the Percy Jackson series, I'm going to put a new story up tomorrow. It's titled Unconditionally. Here is the synopsis:

When his fiancée is put into a coma after being severely wounded while fighting, Percy stays by her beside every night, recounting every memory that happened between them, from the moment they met through a school program to the moment he saw her face to face … even if the memories hurt more than the reality. (AU/AH) Rated T.

If you would like to check it out, you guys go to my page and find the story there! It's up now :)

Have a happy new year, guys!

Thanks for reading!

-K