The following winter, Fern and her husband were fortunate enough to inform their parents that she would be having a baby. Fern's mother and mother and law doted upon her. Her husband fretted over her, and the kingdom celebrated. Though the winter was harsh, Fern stayed as strong and able as ever. When spring came, everyone relaxed. The winter had not touched their queen, and a mild spring would keep her healthy. Their queen indeed stayed very lively and lovely through spring. If she slowed a little, it was only to be expected.

It was not until May that Fern's parents and husband began to worry. With the onset of summer, Fern seemed to wilt. Her energy evaporated; her appetite vanished. As the months passed, she wasted away. Fern herself was not worried. She found the presence of her family comforting, and while she realized she looked poor and felt tired she considered herself to feel none too bad. She had found that hot milk, which was always waiting for her when she woke, went a long way toward soothing any unrest she felt.

In late June, Mary and Samuel went home to gather up some things to prepare for the grandchildren. The doctor recommended that Fern be surrounded by familiar things from her childhood to help ease the strain toward the end of the pregnancy. Reluctantly, they agreed. Wasting no time, when they arrived home they spent only a day packing their things before setting back off toward their daughter. They reached the gates just a little over two weeks from when they had left. When they arrive at the castle gates, their son-in-law was there waiting. Mary gripped Samuel's hand a little tighter as they walked with their son-in-law.

"They say that she will go into labor soon."

"But she is not due for another month!"

"I am assured it is quite normal for twins."

"How soon?"

"Any day now."

Indeed, when they reached the castle, there was an odd mix of rushing about and waiting. The very air was tense, and yet when they checked in on their girl (who had been confined to bed) she appeared better than she had in months. She sat in her bed regally ignoring the small crowd of people fussing over her. Her voice even sounded stronger as she inquired after their journey.

Two days later, she went into labor. The family sat anxiously together, waiting for news on their loved ones. A boy, they were told, was delivered first. News of a little girl came soon after. Two midwives came in holding the two children moments after the messenger left. They passed the children to the family and gave them the news. Fern had not made it through the delivery. The two young ladies stood uncomfortably as Mary clutched the little boy to her chest and buried her face in Samuel's chest. He too looked as if he had received a fatal wound. Though he did not weep openly like his wife, there were tears on his face as he held his wife. The King, who was left holding his daughter had no visible reaction but looked to be a million miles away. he nodded his dismissal of the two women and strode out of the room, the baby girl still in hand, toward the room where his wife had been sequestered.

He ignored all those who protested with blind eyes and found what he sought. There on the bed lay fern. Her white hair was as wild as ever, but her face usually vibrant was fixed in a look of vacant distress. He stood there, holding her hand until Samuel found him.

"Let them prepare her," He said, his voice thick. "You must let them prepare her. And your daughter will be hungry." Guiding the King with a firm grip as if he were a child, Samuel drew him away from their departed Fern.

Hello friends!

This bit is sad, sorry. Fairy tales are typically tragic. In most versions of "The White Doe," the girl dies shortly after giving birth. The version I am most familiar with, she is murdered by her mother-in-law shortly after her twins are born. She then stays around as a spirit to watch over her husband and children. When she spies him sleeping in the room while the babies sleep, she is at peace and goes on to the next world. I decided to tone down the murder. After all, faeries are hard to kill, but childbirth is known to be difficult and even fatal to the Fair Folk. Additionally, if she dies without her parents admitting her strange heritage, then this explains why Elsa's family is seemingly clueless as to why she has powers.

Sidenote: twins are a big feature in fairy tales. Usually a boy and a girl. While I do not know the reason for sure, I assume this is to show fertility. Thus proving to marry a strange girl in the woods was not a stupid decision, but a fated blessing. Additionally, fairytales have balance built into them: for extreme evil, there must arise an extreme good, for a loss, there is a birth, for a triumph, there is a defeat. I view twins as an extension of that balance.