A/N: Thank you to everyone reading along. This is part of the "When All Is Lost Series". My collaborator is not on FFN, so if you are looking for all the stories in chronological order you can find them here on A03

It was after a long meeting, at the end of a long day, at the end of a longer week when Agnarr managed to catch his bride-to-be in her study. She had given a soft, pleased, cry of surprise when he kissed her in that spot on the back of her neck before she turned to welcome him into her arms. He cradled her close for a long moment, the feel of her body warm and alive against him, before dipping his head to catch her mouth. Iduna sighed into him, matching his fervor. These moments never lasted long enough before there was some polite, deliberate interruption. A sharp rap on the door and the "So sorry to disturb you, your Majesty, My Lady, but we need you . . .".

But in this stolen moment, he relished the taste of her, the faint scent of comfrey that clung to her hours after she finished making poultices and the pressure of her hands as they slid down his back. It was hard, these days, to fathom how long it had taken him to get it right. But all of his self-induced frustrations were well worth it to have reached a point where he could hold her in these few private minutes. To express everything he felt for her without the awkwardness of inexperience and the conflicting weight of his duties complicating everything. He brought his hands to her face, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs as her small hands continued their journey along his belt and then further down to gently grasp -

"Iduna!" His voice cracked as he tried to press back, but his escape was hindered by her firm grasp on his belt buckle.

"Agnarr?" He felt the heat surge through him at the sight of her lips, slightly swollen from their interrupted administrations, twitch themselves into an inviting smile, her eyes beguiling and clearly fixed on his mouth. It took every ounce of self-restraint that he possessed to take her restraining hand in his and quickly plant a kiss on it. Her expression changed to one of confusion. "Agnarr, is something wrong?"

"No! No, nothing, um, nothing is wrong. It's just – you never know when we might be interrupted." At this, she broke into a sly grin and traced a finger lazily around one of his brass buttons.

"I made arrangements to take care of that," she said, her cheeks glowing red, but nonetheless looking rather pleased with herself. "I thought it might be nice if we had, you know, some 'us' time. I feel like I've hardly seen you since your Coronation."

For the briefest instant, Agnarr could have sworn that there was an angel on one shoulder and Henrik on the other as he struggled to be the man she deserved. His mouth opened and closed of its own accord and it was too easy to let his gaze drop down the length of her collar to where an unfastened button revealed where the swell of her chest began. He took her small hands in his and kissed them.

"Iduna, I – I would love to have that kind of privacy, but nothing ever really stays secret in a castle. And with things being as they are, Lady Wollen has already explained several times to me, using very exact language, that we can not have a child until nine months after the wedding."

"Is that all?" She gave him an amused, but loving look. "Love, first of all, I know how to count. Second, I've been working with herbal medicines for most of my life. Why do you think Greet isn't a mother yet? And third," she cupped his chin and grinned. "Your people are a bit prudish. The Northuldra considered it a blessing for a bride to be carrying a new life."

Agnarr smiled at that. In the wake of the proposal and her disclosure of her past and heritage, it was still rare for her to reference it. But she had expressed her appreciation for him incorporating her familial pattern into the design of their regalia several times. "Well, we have much to learn," He murmured as he pressed his forehead to hers. "But I did give my word to the Council when we moved you to the castle that I would not do anything to risk a possible succession crisis."

"I didn't give my word."

"Iduna," he said in as firm a tone as he could manage while his baser parts screamed at him and awkward parts began to ache urgently. "Lady Wollen took me aside and threatened to castrate me if I cause her any more trouble. I think she was a bit fed up with me after all the foreign women who came to be presented. I'm not entirely certain she was joking either."

"Is Lady Wollen doubting my ability to brew a tea?" Iduna arched an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"No," he said carefully, feeling as though he were skating on the fjord on a warm spring day. "I'm just saying that I gave my word not to-"

"So you're saying you want to wait?"

"Sunny, no! I definitely don't want to wait. I want you!" He surprised himself with that declaration and given the flush on Iduna's cheeks, his vehemence surprised her as well. "I do not want to wait. But I have to wait. That's part of being the King. Believe me, Agnarr is perfectly fine with having a blessed bride. A very blessed bride. And a baby within weeks of the wedding." She laughed at that and his heart swelled. "But my life is built around duty before desire. And the King has to follow protocol. And protocol is waiting until after the wedding." She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat, but pulled him close and hugged him tightly. They stayed that way for a few long moments, feeling one another breathe and exchanging heart beats, before she peeked up from the embrace with an impish grin.

"Can we at least skip the receiving line after the ceremony?"

"Oh, we can most certainly skip the receiving line after the ceremony."