Warning: Contains MPREG in this chapter~~ Enjoy reading :3

One Last Fairytale: Silver Storm

Arthur wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep, and he barely moved. He lay face down on his bed, as if he was trying to suffocate himself. But he kept breathing because he knew it was useless to die now. There were guards outside the door, and below his window. Even if he did manage to escape, he'd be caught in a matter of seconds. The only time his door was unlocked was when his meals were brought in three times a day. And he'd already failed at trying to overpower the guards while their hands were full, he didn't even make it to the end of the hall.

He'd heard through whispered words between his captors that High Prince Roman had retrieved Francis a few days ago, and that they'd already returned to the Southeast Kingdom. Arthur's tears had dried up not long after and, without any food, crying only made him feel dizzy. So he'd stopped. There was no point of crying, because it wouldn't change anything. Instead, he just lay there, wishing that some cruel fate would take him since he was too scared to kill himself. Coward, why did he always have to be such a coward? If he was a bit stronger, a bit taller, a bit braver, he could have found a way out of this mess by now.

He sighed in defeat, wiping the tears from his eyes before they fell. His whole body hurt with the pain of separation. His father should have known better than to do this. The bonds between two fated lovers were strong enough to kill if the pair is torn apart. It could only be a matter of time before he withered away. He'd tried to eat after the first few days, only to throw it back up. He was physically unable to eat it. And his nights were as sleepless as they were lonely for the same reasons.

So it was that he didn't hear the commotion at first, lost in a state of semi-consciousness on his bed, waiting for death. He rose when he heard a startled cry from the guards below the window, and he got up to investigate, leaning against the locked glass. The guards were yelling something, pointing out across the field towards the stables. Arthur could make out a strange, flickering light before he heard the sound of hooves as he horses raced out of the building. It was on fire, the stallions whinnying in panic as they dashed across the grounds, the guards from around the castle save for the ones beneath his window chasing after them.

There was another noise outside his room, and he heard furious yells and the clash of steel. Blinking, he thought he recognized Elizaveta's voice, seconds before the door splintered and fell inwards, the lady herself pulling her rapier out of one of the guard's chest. Beside her, a man about the same age as Arthur with shoulder length blond hair kicked another guard between the legs, smirking as he kneeled over.

"Shit!" Elizaveta cursed under her breath. "We're not going to be able to get him out through the hall." She hissed between her teeth as she cut down another guard, motioning to her companion, "Vash, go get Liech. I'll hold them off over here." She turned towards Arthur as Vash fought his way down the hall, "And you, break that damn window!"

Arthur gaped at her, reaching towards a chair. "What are you doing?! My father will kill you when he finds out that you two are here!"

Elizaveta smiled warmly at him, "I'll kick his ass before that happens, Arthur. Don't worry about me. And Vash is set to kill right now, you idiot father taking Liech from him." She nodded towards the window again, "Quick now, or it'll be too late."

The blond gritted his teeth, hurling the chair at the window with all the force he could muster, and was rewarded with the satisfying crack of glass. He repeated the movement, this time shattering the pane entirely, running over to the sill to watch the glass rain down on the confused guards below. They raised their swords threateningly towards him, daring him to risk his life in the jump. Arthur hesitated, watching the spreading fire and the light of it on the blades with uncertainty.

Suddenly, there was a loud, familiar whinny as Sterling came barrelling out of the flames, goring one of the guards through the stomach and tossing him aside like a rag doll. And seated on the unicorn's back, slicing through the other guard, was Francis. Tears welled up in Arthur's eyes as the older blond looked up at him, a confident smile on his face, "Jump, Arthur!"

And Arthur jumped, landing on Sterling in front of Francis, the other's arms wrapping around his waist as he dug his heels into the unicorn's sides, urging him into a canter. The prince glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of Vash waiting beneath the window on horseback, another steed held behind him as Elizaveta jumped down from the window. The pair caught up to them a matter of moments, keeping pace with them. Liech was on the horse in front of her cousin, clinging to it with closed, fearful eyes.

They pulled up short at the drawbridge, hearts hammering in horror as they saw that it was already starting to rise to stop their escape. Francis motioned Vash forward, watching as his horse cleared the gap with a few feet to spare. Elizaveta went next, barely managing as the bridge raised farther and farther from the shore. "Hang in tight, angleterre," Francis whispered near his ear, clutching Arthur against his chest as he kicked Sterling into a rapid gallop. The unicorn didn't falter at the slope of the wood, something no horse could accomplish. And Arthur closed his eyes as they hit air, hearing the frustrated yells of the wall top guards. He jolted, his teeth knocking together when they skidded onto the ground, barely missing the water.

There was no pause after they landed, the three steeds racing off into the fading light of day, narrowly avoiding the volley of arrows that followed in their wake.

It must have been long after midnight when they stopped, the horses shaking from exhaustion, and Sterling breathing heavily. Francis caught Arthur as he slipped weakly off the unicorn, concern in his eyes. "Oh cheri," he whispered, feeling the ribs sticking out on the other's body. "Oh cheri, I was so worried I wouldn't make it in time."

Arthur sighed, reaching up to take Francis' face between his hands. "But you did. You came back for me." He could feel the same thinness on the other man as he leaned heavily against him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he murmured. "I never even got to say goodbye…" He leaned up and kissed Francis lightly, "Or 'I love you.'"

Francis smiled, "You can say it now, as many times as you'd like, angleterre. We're free now. We're free."

Two days later it began to snow. Arthur shivered when the flakes clung to his hair, but he was surprisingly content otherwise. Francis had his arm hooked around his waist, his grip stronger after they'd both eaten for the past few days. And he wasn't surrounded by the confining castle walls and overbearing, cruel parents. He leaned back against Francis' chest, tilting his head to kiss him, "Love you."

"Je t'aime," Francis replied softly.

Beside them, Vash rolled his eyes. "Okay, enough of that. We're about to cross the border into the North Kingdom." He glanced back at Elizaveta. "The High Princess should have already sent for Roderich, so he should meet us at the border."

As if on cue, out of the white of the falling snow same a small battalion of armed knights on horseback. The fact that they were armed at all startled Arthur, as it was unusual for anyone but the castle army to carry weapons inside the safety of their nation. Vash noticed this as the soldier approached, casting a wary glance behind them, "The princess must have gone through with it…"

"With what?" Arthur asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.

"Succeeding from Hetalia," Vash said, reluctance in his voice. "After what we did, kidnapping you and Liech like that, there were only two choices. Hand over Francis and myself when it was requested, Roderich too, since a woman cannot be tried or succeed to keep us safe. The princess chose our lives over Hetalia." He smirked slightly, "Not that I mind you much, your father's an ass."

Arthur laughed, turning his gaze to watch Elizaveta trot he horse up towards the approaching battalion, nearly causing the man at the head to fall of his own mount when she tackled him. Vash led them forward, shaking hands with Roderich, "Good to see you made it. Did the King give you any trouble?"

Roderich hissed through his teeth, "You sent word for me just in time, friend. I heard just as they were literally on my doorstep. Lucky the West Kingdom is right next door." He ran a hand nervously through his hair. "Except, now I've left High Prince Germania to deal with it. He's not going to like that."

Vash nodded, "I suppose, but he's stubborn, that guy. Not like his poop-headed little squirt. That kid told me he was the chicken king when I saw him last month. What is he, two now?"

Roderich rolled his eyes as he tried to untangle his wife from around his neck. "Something like that. And I think that Roman can hold his own for awhile too. And the castle will be out of their minds if they send armed forces after either. They'll lose all three Kingdoms like that."

"I hate to interrupt," Arthur cut in, "But it's cold, and I have no doubt that it'll only be hours until the castle army catches up to us, since you've now succeeded."

"Of course High Prince," Roderich bowed apologetically, "Right this way. We'll be able to see the fortress of the North Kingdom by tomorrow's dawn if we hurry." He situated Elizaveta behind him, tying her horse to his own as he led the company away into the snow.

Arthur wasn't sure what to think of the High Princess. She was tall, taller than most women he'd seen, and had short ash-blond hair pinned back with small barrettes. And then of course, she had enormous…

"Look at that rack," Francis said, mouth hanging open. Arthur growled and reached over to dig his nails into his lover's arm.

Vash rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh over the sound of Francis' pained chant of 'Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!' He took a deep bow, doing his best to ignore the two, "Please excuse them, Princess." He motioned toward Arthur and Francis with a brief wave of his hand, the other hand firmly clasped around Liech's. "This is Prince Francis von Bonnefoy, and Crown Prince Arthur Kirkland. Gentlemen, this is High Princess Katyusha."

Katyusha curtsied, holding up the ends of her elaborate silver dress above the floor as she executed the movement gracefully. "Please to meet you, Crown Prince. The North Kingdom has been watching your progress with interest for years. I am pleased to welcome you into my home."

"Likewise, we are grateful for the shelter," Arthur replied politely, returning the bow. "We thank you for your hospitality. Without your aid, Francis and I would surely have died."

The High Princess nodded, "It was my pleasure. And besides, I had little choice in the matter as it was, with Liech chosen as your betrothed. It put the North Kingdom in a rough position, so it was the least we could do."

"A rough position?" Francis echoed.

"Yes," Katyusha admitted regretfully. "As I'm sure you know, the North Kingdom has always been ruled over by a female heir, rather than a male. But as of this date, I only possess a single son. This officially makes Liech my heir until some time as I can produce a daughter," she waved the statement off with a hand as if it was beside the point. "Anyways, I'm being rude, discussing my own problems with you, Crown Prince. Let me show you to the dining hall. I'm sure you're famished by now."

It was only a few minutes later that Arthur found himself seated at a long table, mouth stuffed with food. Not wanting to appear rude, he swallowed and set his attention on the princess again, ignoring the indignant snort from his side as Francis noticed this. "You mentioned you had a son?" he prompted, curiosity getting the better of him. On the way to the dining hall, he had seen the pictures of all of the past High Princesses hung on the walls of the hallway. The lavender eyes and light hair seemed to be the most common trait in all of them, he wondered what such features would look like on a young boy.

At that moment, Francis let out a startled yelp, reaching a hand under the table and pulling out a small child by the back of the shirt. The boy struggled uselessly for a few seconds, before going limp, reaching down with small hands to try and stab Francis' leg again with the fork he held in a tight little fist. When Arthur laughed, the child looked up at him, revealing violet eyes beneath his silvery-brown hair.

Francis raised an annoyed eyebrow at the laughter, "This little demon tried to stab me!" he huffed, trying to make Arthur sympathize with him. But the younger man just laughed harder, clutching his sides.

Katyusha smiled from across the table, which made the small boy shudder, strangely enough. "Maybe he doesn't like you," she said pointedly, at which the child twisted in Francis' grip to poke his tongue out at him. She chuckled softly and waved a scolding finger at the boy, "But you should apologize, Ivan."

Ivan merely struggled some more, flipping to the side to bite Francis' arm.

Arthur choked with laughter as his lover screeched, and he reached over to take the boy from him before Francis decided to hit back. "I think I like you, little one," he said around giggles, trying to ignore the blazing blue eyes glaring at him. "You have my permission to poke him with your fork as much as you like," Ivan smiled at this. The prince returned the smile, catching sight of Francis' mortified face. "So, how old is he?" he asked, directing his attention to Katyusha again.

"One," Katyusha replied. "He's a terror already, isn't he?" However, at that moment, Ivan looked anything but, chewing absent-minded on his fork as if trying to look as innocent as possible.

The prince smiled patting the child's head fondly. "There were never any children at the castle, so this is the first time I've held someone this small." He cast a sidelong questioning glance at Francis out of the corner of his eyes.

The older man smiled slightly, loving the look he received, and how he knew exactly what was being asked of him. "I was the youngest," he said quietly. "So I don't have very much experience with such things either. Except this past year when High Prince Germania would come over with his son."

"Ivan has a playmate a few years older than him, actually," Katyusha chimed in after a moment's thought. "The son of one of our servants."

"Yao!" Ivan piped up helpfully, his eyes glinting at the mention of the other child and surprising Arthur with his first word of the night.

As if called, a slightly older child wearing the long, red, elaborate robes of the nation over the sea came stumbling into the room. He had dark eyes and long black hair tied back in a ponytail and was draped loosely over his shoulder, something that made Arthur blink at first, mistaking him for a young girl. "Please excuse me, aru," the boy said, bowing deeply as he shuffled up to Arthur's side. "I'm sorry that the young master is causing trouble," he reached up and took the child off Arthur's lap, tucking him against his shoulder, to which Ivan gurgled happily.

"No, no, he's no trouble at all," Arthur assured, smirking when Francis gasped and murmured a curse under his breath.

The boy merely nodded, "Well, it is past master Ivan's naptime, so I must be going then, aru."

Katyusha laughed as they watched him go, carrying the child that was already almost half in size. "That's the boy, Wang Yao. He seems determined to become Ivan's sole caretaker, since the day he was born actually. I'd sent most of my maids out for errands that night, and Yao and his mother were the only ones left in the fortress. Oh, and Liech of course. But he's strangely devoted for a five-year-old."

Francis was lost in thought of revenge as he waited for Arthur to take a sip of his tea before he spoke. "I want kids," he proclaimed loudly, and snorted with laughter as his lover choked and spit out the drink all over the table.

Arthur rubbed his napkin over his face and rolled his eyes, "Then marry a girl, idiot."

The older blinked, as if he'd suddenly thought of something, but he didn't continue the conversation. Instead, he turned his gaze to the silver band on his middle finger, the ring that had once belonged to his mother, a small smile on his face.

To Arthur, the most perfect thing was lying in a warm bed with Francis as snow drifted down outside the window. He traced small, meaningless paths across the other man's bare chest with the tips of his fingers. Exhaustion was creeping up on him, but he didn't sleep. Somehow, he was sure that this perfect, beautiful completion would simply vanish if he did. He sighed, shifting so that he rested between Francis' legs, his fingers continuing their pointless dance across skin.

Francis smiled, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Arthur's hair. "Cheri, I will still be here when you wake up. Tomorrow, and every morning after. So get some sleep." The older man shook his head when Arthur pointedly ignored him, "Would you like to go for a walk, Angleterre?"

Arthur raised his head, emerald eyes shining with curiosity, "An adventure?"

"Always," Francis replied softly, giving his lover a light kiss on the forehead before he wiggled out from under him and swung out of bed. "Now grab your coat, mon Arthur, it's a bit chilly outside."

Arthur laughed, jumping out of bed and grabbing his jacket off a chair by the door as he followed the other enthusiastically.

It wasn't like they had to sneak around, they were allowed in the fortress after all. But it just made it seem more fun, their fingers intertwined and their voices coming in near silent murmurings as they made their way up stairs and down halls. Arthur had assumed that Francis had stayed here before, the way he led with an air of confidence, like someone who knew his way around. The prince shook slightly when he remembered the last time they'd walked like this, how Francis had been pulled away from him. He tightened his grip on his lover's hand, anxiety getting the better of him.

The older man blinked, returning the squeeze with an understanding smile. "I'll never let you go, cheri. Ne vous inquiétez pas." He led Arthur along another hall, and then up another flight of stairs, opening the solid wooden door at the top.

Snow was floating in through the stone window when they entered the tower, and Arthur ran up to it to gaze out at the white blanketed world. "I still can't believe it," he whispered quietly, leaning heavily against the sill as he reached out to catch some snowflakes against his outstretched palm, watching as they melted away within seconds. "I never thought I'd actually be here, in the North Kingdom…" He turned slightly as Francis wrapped his arms around the prince's shoulders from behind. "I never thought it'd be someone like you who'd save me either," he added.

"Is that an insult or a compliment?" Francis asked incredulously, his head resting on Arthur's shoulder.

"Both," the younger man smirked. He cast a glance out over the snow again, slight unease at the corners of his mind. "I'm scared, Francis," he whispered, gripping the stone windowsill until his knuckles turned white, "This calm can't last…"

Francis tightened his hold, "Je t'aime, Arthur. Don't let such things linger on your mind." He felt Arthur's hand raise up to clasp his own, an unsteady, uncertain grip. The older man lifted his head from the prince's shoulder, looking out at the snow covered world. He blinked, catching sight of something in the darkness, "Cheri, look."

Arthur followed the movement of Francis' hand to where the man was pointing at the sky and gasped. Thin, waving trails of light were beginning to snake across the dark night sky. They danced over the stars in blues and purples and golden-greens, twisting almost like flames, but the next moment rippling like water. He felt Francis' hand slip out from beneath his, fingers grazing over his palm before sliding cold metal over the second to last finger on his right hand. The prince turned his gaze away from the lights, staring down at the silver band that glinted on his finger with a small smile.

The older blond shifted his arms down to wrap around Arthur's waist, pulling him impossibly closer. "We… We don't need any of that official merde, cheri. After all, it was the laws like that that tried to tear us apart," he murmured. Arthur caught his hand and turned it palm up, taking the Nobility family ring from his left hand and placing it on Francis' right ring finger.

"Can we just stay here… Forever?" the prince whispered, his voice almost breaking as he slid the ring down Francis' finger.

"As long as you wish, cheri," Francis replied.

Weeks blurred into months. And months passed into years.

Arthur rolled over onto his stomach, reaching over to run his fingers over the light stubble Francis had grown. He smirked as the other laughed in his sleep at the small touch. Sitting up, he groaned as a wave of nausea washed over him, and he swallowed hard to keep from gagging. He yawned, climbing drowsily out of bed and pulling some clothes on before he stumbled out into the hall. As he walked, he took a moment to admire the silver ring on his finger, a feeling of contentment washing over him. Then another half-gag as he struggled to keep stomach intact.

There was a patter of excited footsteps behind him before small arms latched onto his leg, almost making him fall over.

"Arthur! Arthur! Hurry, come quick!" Ivan exclaimed, the seven year old practically climbed up the prince's leg.

The blond wobbled, arms waving wildly as he struggled to keep his balance before he bent down, prying Ivan off and hoisting him up and into his arms. "All right, all right, calm down and take a deep breath." He waited as Ivan sucked in a mouthful of air before he continued, "Good. Now tell me what all the fuss is about."

"Mommy! Mommy's having the baby!" Ivan screamed, letting the breath out, hands thrown in the air as if to emphasize how important this was.

The prince's eyes widened, "Really? Merde. Where's your little friend then, Yao? Ivan, go get him and tell him to wake Francis, Elizaveta and Liech too. Yao's mother has her own hands full with his new brother at the moment. And it's too damn early in the morning for the maids to have arrived yet." He set Ivan down on the ground, wrapping the scarf tighter around the child's neck so he wouldn't trip on the ends before allowing him to dash off in the opposite direction. The blond turned down the other hall, picking up the pace after the first few steps. This was not a good morning to be feeling sick.

Francis had Ivan sitting in his lap a few hours later, hands over the boy's ears and wishing he had a pair of earplugs for himself as he sat with his back against the door. He could hear all the unpleasant, pained noises from the inside of the room, and was having a hard time ignoring them. But with Roderich and Vash out on a border patrol he was left to play guard-dog while practically everyone else was inside the room. But he preferred staying outside as it was, thank you very much.

Ivan had his face buried in the front of Francis' shirt, as if the hands weren't enough to block out the noise. A rare occurrence, since it was always Arthur the child ran to when he was frightened, and Francis continued to receive glares and stabbing sessions with forks. But Arthur was in the room with the high Princess.

The blond turned his attention back to the child, making sift shushing noises and humming in the back of his throat as he curled his legs up and tucked Ivan fully against his chest, trying to block out the worst of the screams. If he really thought about it, Ivan was much more of his and Arthur's child than Katyusha's. The High Princess was almost always away, their nation now being separate from Main Hetalia. He'd lost count of the number of times Ivan had slept between them, rather than in his own bed. The child had been forbidden from sleeping in Yao's since day one. And his real father was taking care of one of the border villages by the ocean, governing the trade with the country Yao had come from. Francis doubted he'd ever met his son.

He blinked as he realized that the hall and the room beyond had grown eerily silent, and a spark of dread coursed through him. The moment passed in a split second, the silence filled with the sound of a small baby's first cry. He grinned, lowering his hands from Ivan's ears. "Ivan, listen!" At that moment, they were knocked forward as Arthur flung the door open, "It's a girl!" the prince laughed happily, pulling them off the ground with a bemused look as if he couldn't understand how they ended up face down on the floor. Ivan was transferred between the two men as Arthur whisked the child into the room, setting him down beside his mother's bed.

Katyusha smiled at her son, holding out the wailing bundle to him, "Here, hold your little sister, Ivan."

Ivan bit his lip but complied, taking the baby into his arms as Arthur sat behind him, watching him in case he stumbled. The child chewed at his lip as he cradled the little girl in his arms, and nearly dropped her when she suddenly grabbed his scarf with tiny fists and stopped crying. Blue eyes opened and she gripped his treasured scarf with renewed fervor.

"She likes you," Arthur said, noticing the unease in Ivan's posture.

"She's creepy," Ivan and Francis muttered in unison.

Katyusha laughed tiredly as she took her daughter from the older child. "Now, now, don't say such things about future High Princess Natalia. I'm sure she'll be a strong and fierce ruler for our land."

Francis shuddered, and Ivan turned and grabbed onto Arthur's leg as if truly afraid of his new sibling. Katyusha smiled again, waving a hand at Francis, "Francis, please take Ivan and Yao to get some breakfast, I'm sure they're half-starved by now. I need to speak with Arthur for a moment."

The Crown Prince opened his mouth in nervous protest but shut it at a glare from Elizaveta across the bed. Francis left without a word, Ivan in his arms and Yao trailing behind him. Elizaveta leaned her hands on the mattress as soon as the other man's footsteps faded away, her eyes furious, "When were you going to tell us that you were sick?!" she burst out in fury.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, "What are you talking about?"

"You left three times during the birth," Liech said quietly from beside Elizaveta, "we heard you throwing up."

The blond hissed between his teeth in frustration, "W-Well, maybe that was because it's kinda gross to watch something like that..."

"Liar!" Elizaveta muttered crossly, leaping over the bed to stand at his side.

"It's really none of your concern!" Arthur snarled, feeling threatened by her viridian glare. His arm curled over his stomach, as if he was protecting something, his own eyes blazing, daring her to make a move.

She took half a step back, the lines on her forehead creasing in worry. She had never seen her cousin act so defensive, even Francis was only half as bad at his worst of times, and that was if you really goaded him. "What the hell Arthur, can't you see we're trying to help you?"

"I can take care of myself!"

Katyusha let out an audible sigh, reaching over to slap Arthur across the face, "Calm down," she said softly, smiling at the shocked look she received, "And tell me how long it's been since you figured it out."

Arthur turned pale and bit his lip until blood pooled in his mouth. "Last week," he mumbled almost inaudibly.

"You know how rare something like this is, don't you?" Katyusha prompted gently. "It's because you're one of the Nobility. Consider it a survival of the bloodline effect. But it could also be because of your powers with the fairies for all I know." She smiled as he swallowed, his fingers splaying out uncertainly over his stomach.

"What am I supposed to tell Francis?" he whispered, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "I can't tell him something like this..."

Elizaveta couldn't take being left out of the loop anymore, "Eeeeeyyaaaarrrggghhhh!" She screamed, throwing her hands in the air, "Tell me first you fucking idiot! What the hell are you talking about?!" She ignored the way Liech covered her mouth with a gasp at the foul language, the brunette's eyes boring holes into Arthur's head.

The prince turned his gaze awkwardly towards the ceiling. "Um... Well, how to say this... I... I guess it must be two months? Yeah, that sounds right, I'm not fat yet after all. I guess you could say I'm almost done with my first trimester?"

His cousin made a strange face, "Huh?"

"Pregnant," Katyusha supplied helpfully, chuckling at the annoyed look Arthur shot her. "He's saying that he's pregnant."

Elizaveta stared at him a moment, before a single syllable escaped her, "Ew..."

"Thanks," Arthur muttered sarcastically, "It's not that great for me to think about either. How it's going to work is beyond me."

"Are you going to tell Mister Bonnefoy?"Liech whispered from the other side of the bed, blushing.

Arthur raised a characteristic eyebrow, wondering whether or not to remind her that he was also called "Mister Bonnefoy" now. But she'd only apologize instead of getting the joke. "I..."

Elizaveta made up her mind very quickly, grabbing her cousin by the arm and not waiting for him to finish the sentence before she dragged him out into the hall and down to the dining room. Once there, she pushed him forward, watching with satisfaction as he nearly tripped over a chair in the process before coming to a halt in front of Francis. The older man blinked up at him owlishly, halfway through the process of trying to force Ivan to eat a spoonful of peas.

Francis stood up, noticing the tears in the corners of his husband's eyes. "Oh cheri!" he exclaimed, worry lacing his voice. "Cheri, cheri, cheri, what's wrong?"

Arthur leaned forward and pressed his face against Francis' chest, choking back a sob, "I'm sorry..."

"Shh... Whatever are you talking about, mon Arthur?" Francis murmured against his ear, wrapping him in his arms once he noticed that Elizaveta had successfully distracted the children sitting at the table. The reply was only another strangled sob, and Francis hugged him closer.

"Tell him right now before I do!" Elizaveta yelled over the noise of Ivan refusing to eat the peas, even with Yao's encouragement.

"I'm fucking pregnant, all right!" Arthur cried.

Francis blinked, "Umm... What?"

"You heard him," Elizaveta sighed flippantly, "And he's not lying either. He threw up three or four times just this morning. And he's practically bawling cause he thinks you'll hate him or something else stupid like that. Tell him you're not mad, or he'll freak out in about ten seconds."

"I don't hate you, cheri," Francis said instantly, leaning down to kiss the other. "Though how something like this happened makes my brain hurt, I admit." He grinned, seeing that Arthur had lapsed into hiccups now, "So, what are we going to name it?"

"Sh-Shut up! That's not something to discuss now, you frog!"

"If it's a girl, I like the name Antoinette. But if it's a boy, I like Alfred." He continued as if not having heard at all.

"Alfred?! That's a horrid name!" Arthur gasped out, trying his best to stifle another outburst of hiccups as he wiped the tears from his face, "Besides, if it's a boy we're naming it Matthew! It sound's much more dignified."

"Or girly," Francis added with a smirk. He reached out to press a hand on his lover's belly with a laugh, "Oh-ho! Look, you've already got a little bulge here!"

"Are you calling me fat?!" Arthur screamed.

Elizaveta rolled her eyes as she watched him, "Why he was so worried about telling him is beyond me. I'd be more worried for Francis. Arthur's already starting to show a hormone imbalance..."

"I'm not!" Arthur retorted, turning a glare in her direction, which she returned with equal force.

xXx

And so here it is, a MPREG chapter. Who is Arthur's and Francis' child? Hehehe, I guess you all know it, right? :0 Mpreg is actually one of my favourite types among the stories and I will figure if I should come up with any one of these story of my own that will contain mpreg. Haha, anyway enjoy the chapter as always.

And here's the hierarchy of Main Hetalia from the highest position to the lowest, as of present timeline. It also includes the characters nationality and origins. Noted that this will only display the characters that has been mentioned/ appeared until this chapter's timeline, more characters might be added in the future chapter.

Hierarchy of Main Hetalia (Highest to Lowest)

High King and Queen (Main Hetalia)

Crown Prince Arthur (Main Hetalia)

High Prince Germania (West Kingdom), High Prince Roman (Southeast Kingdom), High Princess Katyusha (North Kingdom)

Antonio (Southeast Kingdom), Gilbert (West Kingdom), Natalia (North Kingdom)

Ivan (North Kingdom), Liech (North Kingdom)

Vash (North Kingdom), Elizaveta (Main Hetalia)

Roderich (West Kingdom)

Francis (Southeast Kingdom)

Yao (Nation across the sea), Kiku (Nation across the sea)

Commoners

Disclaimer: Hetalia and One Last Fairytale do not belong to me.