A/N: Jannicke Castle is based on Spala, a small village in Poland, and the hunting lodge that had belonged to Nicholas Romanov II, Tsar of Russia (18 May (6 May) 1868 - 17 July 1918).
And let's get back to the story. - Licia
June, 1850
Jannicke Castle,
Arendellian Countryside
Elsa looked up as her husband joined her; three months after birthing their youngest, she had asked to get away, wanting to recover from the stresses of everything- the birth of their daughter, the executions of the traitors of her council, the creation of her new council- and just adjust to motherhood again. They had come to Jannicke, the Arendellian royals' estate in the northern countryside.
It was a beautiful former castle of King Runeard and Queen Rita, Elsa and Anna's paternal grandparents, and once Agnarr and Iduna had taken power, they had fixed it up, turning the castle into a getaway for them and their daughters. When Elsa had taken the throne, it had become her sanctuary away from the stresses of her position; she and Anna had often come to Jannicke just to escape, and to feel as though their parents were there with them. Since Elsa had started her own family, she and Hans had used it much like Halsten; it was a place where the rules of their courts could be cast aside, where they could simply be husband and wife, Mama and Papa, where their children didn't have to worry about the decorum that Arendelle and the Isles lived by.
She watched as Hans gently adjusted his hold on their younger daughter, brushing a kiss to her head as he did so. "You didn't have to get her, I could have-" He waved it away.
"You gave birth three months ago, Eliza."
"I know, and-"
"Shh." He nuzzled his nose against hers. "Let me be a Papa, please." She closed her mouth, swallowing her argument, and instead, shrugged out of her nightdress, freeing both of her breasts.
"Where is Anja? I'll nurse him as well." Hans turned as Marta lifted the little boy onto the bed. At a year and ten months, the boy was still nursing at his mother's breast, a common custom in Arendelle, one Hans said nothing about, because he knew better. "Thank you, Marta. Just return in an hour." The girl nodded, doing as told. Once she was gone, Elsa opened her arm to her son, who crawled towards her, settling between his parents. The chill in the air hardened her nipples, and once Hans had settled the baby in the crook of her right arm and was nursing, Elsa snuggled her son closer. The boy gently took the bud of his mother's other breast into his mouth and settled down to nurse, curling close to his mother.
The young king settled back against the pillows, watching as his wife nursed their two youngest. How had he gotten so damned lucky? What had he done to deserve such a beautiful woman- in both body and soul- to want to be his mate? To give him four equally beautiful children? The sound of small feet pulled him from his study, and they both looked up as the bedroom door opened and Milla and Annes slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind them.
"Papa! Papa!"
"Easy, mitt lille hjerte, Mama's nursing your siblings. You must be gentle with her." The children glanced at their mother before turning to their father. Milla's long red locks were put up in rags, twisted and knotted and left in overnight- they would produce long, beautiful curls when taken out in the morning. She held tight to her doll, crawling into her father's lap as Annes crawled closer to study their sister. The four-year-old boy was just as curious as his sister, but he often kept quiet. Unlike Milla, who, at five was constantly asking questions, Annes would only speak if truly curious about something- something so like his mother, that Hans often referred to the little boy as his wife's shadow.
"Why?" The girl's furrowed brow lit upon her Papa, and Hans glanced at his wife, who adjusted and settled back against the pillows of their bed once more. The king glanced thought a moment, glancing at his wife before,
"Because... it's... custom." Small, furrowed eyebrows knit together and rose while a tiny frown tugged the ends of her cupid's bow downwards.
"I didn't do that. Neither did Annes."
A soft chuckle broke the silence and saved Hans from having to answer, as both father and daughter turned to the source of the sound. Elsa tore her gaze from the baby in her arms, meeting her daughter's. "You most certainly did, Camilla Helene. I nursed both you and your brother at the same time."
"You did?" Elsa nodded.
"Mama refused wet nurses, insisting since you were her child, and she had delivered you, then she should be the one to nurse you." The girl turned to her father, blue eyes wide. She may have inherited Hans' red curls, but her eyes were all Elsa's. She was adorable, and Hans felt his heart twist, knowing of the great beauty his oldest would grow into once she reached her teens. Her mother had turned the heads of every young man at the Tercentenary ball that long ago day back in thirty-eight, at just the tender age of sixteen, including his, and had, at that same tender age, designated him to be the recipient of that gaze, and now... now those same blue eyes turned from their children to him. Despite having given birth three months before, despite having gone through three previous pregnancies and births, she was still as beautiful as the night they'd met on the balcony at Linnea.
"And you were better for it." Elsa added, turning her attention back to her two youngest. "Not that I have anything against the women who become wet nurses, but they are not needed in Arendelle. A mother has gone through so much pain to bring their babe into the world, it is only natural that she be the one to provide nourishment." She gently stroked her fingers through Anja's soft curls. "Besides, it helps to relieve the heaviness in my breasts." Said more to herself than anyone else, she smiled softly.
After both had finished nursing, Elsa gently rubbed the baby's back, before shifting until she was cradling her youngest in her lap. "Sofia..." The baby cooed softly and Elsa smiled. "Our little Sofia Iduna."
"Sof." Milla pipped up, as Hans pressed a kiss to her head.
"Sof-ie." Annes replied. Milla shook her head, smacking her father with the knotted rags in her hair, and he winced.
"Milla."
"Sof." The girl replied, ignoring her father's gentle warning.
"Sofi!" The older boy replied, pouting.
"N- Papa!" The little girl turned back to Hans, moving so fast that they connected heads briefly. Her father winced, sitting back against the headboard.
"... Camilla..." The soft groan was more growl than groan, as the king reached up and rubbed the spot where his daughter's head had connected with his. The girl swallowed at her father's soft glare.
"Sorry."
The Southern Isles king sighed, glancing briefly at his wife before turning back to his three oldest children. "It's late, and that means time for little princes and princesses to go to bed." Instant protests reached his ears, and he held up a hand. "This is not up for debate." As if on cue, a soft knock sounded, and Marta entered, taking Anja into her arms and holding out a hand which Annes took after both boys had kissed their parents. "Now off to bed with all three of you." A moment passed, before Milla kissed both her parents and climbed off the bed, following the young handmaid from the room. Once gone, Hans stood, taking the baby from his wife and returning her to her bassinet before rejoining his wife.
"Lise?"
The queen looked up from the book she'd been reading, to see her sister standing in the doorway. "Annalei, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." The princess replied, joining her sister. "I... I was just... wondering if you were up for a walk?" Silence. "I know you're probably still sore from the birth and if you're not up for it, I completely understand-"
Her sister marked her place and shut her book. "Lise, I gave birth three months ago. I'm okay." She stood, holding out a hand to her sister, who took it. She gently tugged her sister from the room, slipping Anna's hand into the crook of her arm as they made their way through the halls of the sprawling estate. The whisper of their skirts often being the only sound, they fell into easy conversation as they once had as children.
As they passed by the nursery, Elsa stopped, going to the partially opened door. Anna followed, and the two women watched the queen's children play. "They're beautiful, Lise, they really are. You and Hans are so lucky."
Her sister merely nodded, before turning back to her and slipping her arm into hers. They continued on, falling back into step with each other. Once well enough away from the nursery, Anna finally asked what had been on her mind for the past few weeks. "Lise? Are you happy?" In a look similar to the one her daughter had given her husband the night before, Elsa turned to her sister.
"Of course I am, Annalei. Why wouldn't I be?" The princess shrugged. "What brought this about?"
"I just... I know that you've been under a lot of stress lately- what with the council and Sofia's birth-"
Her sister shook her head. "The council is... no longer an issue. I have a new council, better suited to my needs and the needs of Arendelle. And as for Sofia's birth," She snapped her mouth shut, thinking. "not even the midwife could have predicted that last child was not only not fully turned within my womb, but ten pounds. No one could have predicted that."
"Hey Lise? What do you think of Lord Bismarck?"
Elsa paused. "He's a fine young man. Very loyal. Charming. Handsome- and if my husband hears that, he will never let me forget it, so please don't say anything." Anna chuckled. "He seems like a fine young man, why?" The princess opened her mouth as they passed by the back entrance; the queen pulled away from her sister, going to the back entrance and pulling the door open; sunlight splashed before them, as they stepped outside to the sound of hoofbeats. To the back of the castle were stables and gardens, and Anna and Elsa looked up at the sound of hoofbeats. Red curls reminiscent of flames in the sunlight, looking smart in a dark green riding habit, Hans grinned at both women from his seat upon his horse, Sitron. Elsa stepped closer, holding up a hand to shield her eyes. "What are you doing, my darling?"
"It's such a nice day, I though perhaps a ride would be nice for a change." Elsa turned back to her sister, who hesitated. The queen furrowed a brow. Anna loved to ride; the girls had both grown to become expert horsewomen, though because Elsa was next in line for the throne, she wasn't able to devote as much time to it as her sister, though she still loved to ride. Though she often refused to leave her sister's side- especially when Elsa had been pregnant- the queen had still urged her to go. So why was she hesitating now? "Shall I saddle Nokk for you, dearest?"
She turned back to her husband, shaking her head. "No need." With the wave of a hand, Elsa had changed into a dark grey riding habit crafted of her ice and snow. She reached up. "Help me up." He took her hand; once she was seated comfortably before him, she turned to meet his gaze. "There. Perfect." The couple shared a soft kiss, unaware of Anna's curling in on herself.
"Are you sure you don't want to saddle up Nokk, darling? Perhaps a race-"
Elsa chuckled. "We both know I would beat you in a race."
"Sitron is the fastest horse in the Isles-"
"But he is not in the Isles anymore, he's in Arendelle- Anna!" The princess looked up, having spaced out during the conversation. "Do you want me to saddle up Olaf for you?"
"No thank you, Lise! You two enjoy your ride!" The couple shared a glance.
"Are you sure? Annalei-"
"I'm sure, Lise!" She turned, hurrying back to the castle. "Enjoy yourselves!" From the doorway, she waved them away, watching as they took off into the meadows and fields around Jannicke, the skirts of her sister's riding habit blowing in the breeze. As the hoofbeats faded, Anna slipped back inside, reaching up to quickly brush at the tears on her cheeks. She couldn't explain why she'd suddenly felt... jealous... when Hans had returned from his ride. She loved her brother-in-law; he was a good man, a good ruler, a good father and a good husband to her sister; he loved Elsa and their children deeply and dearly, and was the brother she had never had and always wanted- so why was she suddenly feeling threatened by his presence? Hans had done nothing but love her sister and make babies with her; he was no real threat to Anna or her relationship with Elsa? The two relationships were entirely different, even if they both centered around the same person. Unless...
She inhaled sharply, realization sinking in. No. It's not Hans you're jealous of. It's... it's Lise. You're... you're jealous of what she has... Hans, her marriage, their children... you want what they have... but... but could you possibly... want it with... with Lord... Bismarck?
