A/N: Hi, guys! I hope you're well. You lot obviously know I'm a bit finicky with deadlines of late, but I will continue to publish till I've finished with the fanfiction.

Here's some vocabulary:

Es ist eine Ehre – it's an honour (German)

Ich schätze es – I appreciate it (German)

Guten Nachmittag – Good afternoon (German)

Bonne après-midi – Good afternoon (French)

Je suis désolé. Tu as raison – I'm sorry. You're right. (French)

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or the Frozen franchise.

Hans

"Madolen, are you okay in there?" loud retching is my only answer for a while. I try the door and Madolen hollers back.

"I'm fine, Hans!" she coughs for a moment before speaking in a voice that sounds ailed. "I'm okay, just shut the door." Madolen gives way to another wave of nausea and I consider stepping in. "Please shut the door, amar."

"Just yell if you need anything," I scratch my bedhead of hair before, shutting the door with a 'click'.

"Okay, I will," Madolen says. "Thanks, amar."

I step away from the door and open the curtains.

I wasn't prepared to wake up when I did. I was startled awake by Madolen's swift run to the bathroom. Now it's clear that she was answering the very first call of morning sickness and not a week sooner nor later than what Dr Spencer said.

I yawn graciously as I admire the view of the kingdom splayed before me. Although it's rather grey outside and the rain has decided to outshine the sun, I'm still in awe of it every time I see it.

The bathroom door swings open and Madolen sluggishly drags herself back into bed.

"How do you feel?" I question, still glancing at the view.

"Confused as to why women do this to themselves," she chuckles into her pillow.

I turn back and start towards Madolen. I gingerly stroke her back. "We might as well start the day early," I say. "We need to approve of the plans for the barn. And we need to announce our pregnancy, and supervise that people are preparing to grow crops in their gardens."

"No one's up at this time," she grumbles, turning to lay on her back. She smiles at me. "Listen to how quiet it is." Madolen takes my hand and squeezes gently. "Let's sleep for a tiny bit more."

I return the smile. "Don't tempt me, elskede," I kiss her hand and pull her up. "We've got a head start for a reason."

"You're so boring," Madolen hops up. "But I am feeling peckish."

…

Madolen and I sit at the table in the Dining Hall, having our fill of breakfast. "Breakfast is good, huh?" I comment on the way Madolen scarfs down her bacon and eggs.

"Mmm," she smiles at me and wipes her mouth with a serviette.

She downs her glass of fresh mixed berry juice and I watch her intently as I speak. "When should we tell 'em?"

Madolen looks knowingly at me, "Hhmm?"

"When should we let everyone know about the born?"

Madolen sets her fork and knife down before she responds. "When do you wanna tell them?" she looks over to me.

"I want to tell everyone now, but I also want to respect Casmont's traditions on the matter," I down my orange juice.

Madolen smiles at me. "We usually tell as per the desires of the wedded couple so long as it gives enough time for all the socials that take place."

"Socials?" the edge of my mouth jumps in anticipation at the idea. I've almost lost interest in my breakfast entirely.

"Oui," Madolen gives an emphasizing nod. "We have to schedule a time for Pastor Clemente to give his blessings and that'll be a whole event in itself. Then we have to appear at all sorts of agricultural sites that'll be set up by the kingdom in honour of the baby."

"You mean to say they'll build a building for the child?"

"Not necessarily," Madolen says. "They could build a building in honour of the child. Baby Westegaard won't have the power to decide what happens with it, but it'll be named after him or her and for the service of the people. I got a ship made in my reverence Madame Madolen. Da got a road named Wiatt Way. It's the road that leads to the castle from the docks. The very road that you trekked the night we met."

"So there was never a road that lead to the castle?"

"There was, but it wasn't nearly so marvellous," Madolen tells. "It was broadened and dawned with all sorts in celebration of his birth."

"So… if we have a dozen children we'll have a dozen little sites and streets and ships and orchards in the children's awe?"

"Oui, that's correct."

"Wow, you can really make a man wish he was born of Casmont royalty," I pile the last of my eggs and bacon into my mouth. "Is that all?" I smirk with dryness in my tone.

Madolen smiles at me and takes my hand. "We have to set a date to invite your family to see the birth. In fact, almost all of Casmont will be there for the birth. Those that can fit in the castle at least. It's… a lot of pressure."

I know Madolen to be a private girl. I can tell the idea of a large crowd of men and women attending the birth of our first child and all our children weighs on her shoulders. "Are you… comfortable with that?"

"I'm not excited to give birth for a number of reasons," she smiles despite her tone. "But I'd be lying if I said that a large crowd isn't a big factor in my hesitance. But I'll be fine. I may not agree with the tradition, but it's a tradition that's been passed down from generation to generation."

"Well, births of Royals in the Southern Isles are private," I start. "The born is just as much of my blood as he is yours. I could make it easier for you."

Madolen seems hopeful. "I… I would like that." She scratches her forehead before returning from her hope high. "But it's best if we do the public birth. At least for the first child. I'd better honour everybody if I started off doing things this way."

"Of course, elskede," I grin kindly at her. "I understand." I lean back in my seat almost ready to begin my day. "You don't think you should see Spencer sometime today? This is the first you've ever had a bout of morning sickness?"

Madolen grins at me, "That's exactly where I was going."

…

Madolen

"You and I are gonna be thick as thieves, we are," Gala says to my stomach in a voice very much used to speak to infants. "Oh, yes we are! Oui! Oui!"

"Gala, I'm sure the baby can't hear you yet," I say from my seat in the lobby of the Hospital. It's been a while since I met up with Spencer, and I'm eager to share some news with him.

"Can you say tante Gala? Can you my angel?" Gala clearly isn't paying me any mind, and I grin to myself at how she speaks to my flat stomach.

Every now and then a nurse passes by, congratulating me with a beam and asking if they can do anything for me. It only reminds me of how urgently Hans and I need to announce our pregnancy. I nip on my lower lip as ideas bounce around in my head for the ceremony.

"My Princess," comes Spencer's voice as he enters the lobby. "Milady Gala. It's nice to see the both of you."

"Hello, Spencer," I stand and shake his hand. "I'm sure you can guess why I'm here today."

"Morning sickness?" grins Spencer.

I nod, "In all its glory." I shrug. "You were right. I'm pregnant."

"Is it a girl or a boy?" Gala chirps into the conversation.

"Well, I love that zest and confidence in me, but even I couldn't tell you that right this minute," Spence says. "I'm afraid modern medicine isn't incredibly precise in terms of telling the sex of an unborn child. But between an experienced woman like Hettie – who's delivered her share of babies – and me, we should establish a that later in the pregnancy."

"Well, call me crazy but I think we're expecting a little princess," Gala says giddily.

"Regardless of the sex of the child, we must be sure that we take the best care of the little one," Spencer says. "Starting with meals. I don't want you skipping any, and I want you to eat plenty of fruits and vegetables. I understand that it'll be… difficult in the current state of weather, but any chance that you get you should take." Spencer pulls a notebook out of his coat and scribbles somethings down. "I encourage you to keep active, as long as possible. High levels of activity tend to smoothen the birthing process." Spencer rips the page out of his notebook and hands it too me.

I read over the contents of the page, it contains a variety of foods to eat. "Is there anything I should expect?"

"Nausea, heartburn, a full bladder, swollen ankles, bizarre cravings, back ache, sensitive breasts, hypersensitive smell, loss of memory, headaches, light-headedness and a beautiful baby for you, your husband and Casmont," Spencer smiles. His mood turns grim. "Gala, may I steal Princess Madolen away?"

"Of course," Gala nods to Spencer. She squeezes my hand supportively before Spencer leads me upstairs and down to his office. The ward full of ailed people is significantly emptier and gloomier.

Spencer shuts the door behind him and addresses me. "I hate to spoil to mood, but I must inform you that a number of the farmers that came down from the Fields have passed." He sighs and pinches his nose. "It won't be long until the others pass too." Spencer puts a hand on my shoulder. "I know that you and the prince want to save everyone, but as a physician, I know all too well that it's impossible. The citrus recovered should be put to use feeding the healthy residents of Casmont. Even if we save the injured men and women, they'll likely never be able and or willing to farm again."

"Doctor-"

"I advise you as a physician to consider the future of Casmont, and not the past."

"…As I always do," I sigh. "It's just a hard piece of advice to accept."

"I understand, Princess Madolen," says Spencer. "But I know you understand me as well."

"I do," I breathe. "Thank you for your advice, Doctor."

Spencer grins weakly, "We'll make them as comfortable as we can while they're here. Believe me when I say that I wish these decisions didn't have to be made," Spencer turns to open his office door. As he struts a foot out of the door her turns back to me. "You'll be a good mother, Princess. Congratulations."

…

"Would you like to have the festivities at the cathedral or back in the Gardens?" questions Mia, taking note of all my ideas for the baby's announcement. I pace around in the ballroom, where my mind continues buzzing. "Or perhaps in this very room?" Mia spins, her bob-styled ginger hair following her as she raises a hand to the high-ceilinged, champagne coloured room.

I purse my lips. "It might be best to just eat right at the cathedral," I say, coming to a stop. "The weather may be just as dreadful as it is right now, and I don't want people trudging around in the rain back and forth." Mia jots down the arrangement. "Once Pastor Clement gives his blessing, the kissing trail will begin, and then people can start eating. We're trying our best to ration food, I wonder if what we offer will even be considered a feast."

"We don't need to have one if it'll compromise Casmont, your Highness."

I sigh as I step into the dim light of the large windows. "Of course we do. I just want to find a comfortable medium. We have plenty of fish, we can have a sea based feast." Mia comes up to join me by the window. My gaze is still focused on the crashing weather outside. "We could have fishcakes and barnacle soup." I finally turn to face Mia. "You'll check with Jakob if he has enough seafood to spare?"

"I will," she nods. "This is going to turn out just fine, don't you worry, Princess Madolen. You're in good hands." Mia's bright brown eyes beam at me, her youthful energy shining through. "Pastor Clemens will be informed, as will the people of Casmont as soon as possible."

"And you've let Hans' family know that we're having a baby?"

"I have, Princess," Mia tells, putting me more at ease that things are under control in at least one aspect of my life.

"Danke, Mia," I smile. "Ich schätze es."

"Es ist eine Ehre," she grins back before heading out. On her way out into the hallway, Hettie steps into the ballroom a motherly smile on her lips.

"Bonne après-midi, Hettie," I chirp, strutting to meet her halfway. "Is something wrong?" my voice echoes off of the empty ballroom.

"Non, non, my love," Hettie says. "I just wanted to remind you that you have another meeting with Jakob today about the livestock and their feed."

"Merci, Hettie, I was just heading that way," I give Hettie a brief hug before hurrying over to the Council area where I find only Jakob. "Guten Nachmittag, Jakob," I greet, taking a seat across from him at the sleek long table.

"Guten Nachmittag, Princesse Madolen," Jakob says with a faint smile.

"Did I make you wait long?"

"Nein, I just got here," says Jakob. "Where's Prince Hans?"

"I'm sure he'll be here soon."

As if on cue, Hans comes through the doors of the Council area and pulls out a seat beside me, offering his greetings. He plants a kiss on my cheek and sits down in the drawn out seat. "Forgive me, I had some things to wrap up before this gathering."

"It's alright, we haven't started yet," I give a small grin. "I have an idea – a solution – for the feed."

"By all means, Princess, share it," Jakob edges closer in his seat.

"We should build the barn underground, like a cellar," I start. "But given the conditions of the storm, we'll start by storing the feed in the stagnant ships. The majority of our ships aren't going out to sea during this time, and we've no real use for them – until now."

"We will have imports later, Madolen," Hans reminds. "And perhaps even exports."

"But for the time being, those imports aren't occupying the fleet of ships just bouncing in the bay," I assert. "When we need to import something, we'll address that. For now, the only ships coming to us are the ones from the Southern Isles. All of that considered, we shouldn't need the others." I give an affirmative nod. "I've decided."

"Very well," Hans nods. He looks to Jakob. "What's happening with the shark nets?"

"We shouldn't need more than three more days," Jakob answers. "The weather has given us only a few hours to work of late."

"We've had an almost endless supply of seafood," I bring up. "Do we still have that now?"

"We do," Jakob tells. "We bring in more and more fish every day."

I internally sigh. "Good."

The meeting draws on, Jakob, Hans and I discussing the dimensions and arrangement of the new Barn and how best to store the food on the ships docked in the Harbour. The sun soon falls into the shore and Jakob parts to get started in the monumental task ahead of him. Meanwhile, I have a heavy decision to make, and it gnaws on me from the inside.

"Hans, are you busy?"

…

Hans

"…Spencer thinks I should withhold resources from the farmers who've gotten sick," Madolen speaks up after a long moment of eating in silence. I gaze at her with interest to hear what more she has to say. Her eyes are pasted to her dish, watching with an almost hypnotic look on the slow stir she has going on her soup. "I've been in charge just a bit over a month and there's such a decision thrown my way."

"Thrown our way, min elskede," I slurp up a spoonful of the crayfish soup.

Madolen gives a bashful look at me. "Je suis désolé. Tu as raison." She scratches her head. "I've just been preparing for this my whole life and now it's starting to fall to bits."

"That's why I'm here," I nudge my leg against Madolen's under the table. "That's why I married you – to help."

Madolen sets her spoon down and clasps my kneecap, rubbing her thumb over it. Her eyes no longer meeting mine. "I know, I just… forget. But I know you're behind me." she looks at me finally. "I'm behind you too." She sucks in both of her full lips before speaking again. "What should we do?"

"We do our job," I say as tactfully, but realistically as I can. "Being in power is painful sometimes, elskede. But you and I both know it isn't all pain. But you and I both know it isn't all pleasure."

"I guess we do," Madolen squeezes my kneecap. "What do we tell everyone?"

"The truth, elskee," I say. "They'll understand. We aren't in any easy situation."

"I know they'll be those that get it," Madolen begins. "But the reminder won't see what was see. We're looking out for all of them, and that sadly means… letting some of them go."

I stare at Madolen a moment. She knows what's best for Casmont, but her people pleasing nature – that I just about looked down on her for the day we met – is keeping her from doing what we know is right. A part of me wonders if Madolen would get it done without me. Not because she can't see reason, but because she cares far too much for the approval of everybody.

"Let me handle it, elskede," I tell. Her head turns sharply in my direction.

"What're you gonna do?"

I return with a solid and sure expression, "What needs to be done for Casmont. Of course, we'll be making the decision together -we're a unit- but I can tell you can't bear the pain that the people will certainly respond with. I'll take the brunt of it."

"Hans, no, we're partners-

"And where I can't, you can. Where you can't, I can," I tell. "We make each other strong. Right?"

Madolen manages a genuine smile. She nods, "Right." She leans over to peck a soft lipped kiss to my stubbled cheek. "I… appreciate it. I appreciate you."

I grin at her. "Me too, elskede."

Alright, thanks for reading. I do apologize for being so late. Don' worry, this train will keep choo chooing until the fanfiction ends.