Author's Note:

Hi everyone! Hope you are all enjoying this story! I want to thank everyone who commented/reviewed over the last few days. Seriously, it does make writing that much more fun and motivating, knowing that people are actually reading it! I love seeing all of you theorize about what is happening in the comments. Do continue :)

Happy reading!

Freja woke with a start. Sitting up slowly, she tried to place exactly what had disturbed her slumber. She rubbed her eyes. Sleep still hung over her like a raincloud, and her eyelids drooped. Then Elsa's tiny foot kicked the inside of her belly again, and she opened her eyes with a smile. Oh Elsa. Rubbing the spot where she felt her daughter, she hummed softly to her baby girl. She looked around the room. She was in a soft feather bed with maroon decorative pillows strewn about her. Her old room in Corona.

Corona! Rosie! The events of the last few days rushed back into her brain like a tidal wave. Swinging herself off the bed a bit too quickly, she smacked her oversized abdomen on the nightstand. Her body protested viciously to the sudden movement.

"Sorry, Els," Freja groaned, rubbing her aching back.

She waddled out into the hallway. It was empty, like it had been as of late, and still deathly silent. A flood of despair washed over Freja. It didn't work? The flower, Alazair said it would heal her sister! Why was everything so quiet?

Hurrying down the corridor, the worst of the worst possibilities fought their way into Freja's mind. She tried to shake them out. She had held onto her positive attitude, her belief that Rosie would be fine, for this long. There was no point in giving in to fear now. But the emotions poured down on her. C'mon, Freja, keep it together. Keep in control. Before she knew it, she was running as fast as a very pregnant woman can run, down the hallway toward her sister's room.

The door was closed. Now that she was here, it seemed so much more ominous to enter. So very, very final. Her hand shook as she reached out to the door. Knock-knock. She pressed her palm to the gorgeously crafted woodwork. There was no answer.

"Rosie?" Freja's voice cracked as she spoke.

Silence.

Gulping down air, but still feeling deprived of oxygen, Freja tentatively fingered the door's handle. It was cold to the touch. She pressed down to open it.

A dark room greeted her, devoid of light from the window or anywhere else. Freja squinted into the shadows. Slowly her eyes adjusted. Rosie's bed was empty! The sheets had been stripped off so all that remained was the clean, white mattress. A lump grew in the queen's stomach. She felt like she was going to be sick. Rosie was gone? Oh, why had nobody woken her! Alazair had promised that dumb magic flower would work! Freja felt like her soul was floating miles above her body as she walked slowly out of the room and closed the door. Her eyes were dry, and for some reason that was all she could think about in the instant. She wasn't crying. She could feel anything. She raised a hand and rubbed her face. Her forehead was doused in beads of sweat, and she was cold and clammy. Her eyelids flickered. She was going to pass out.

"Freja!"

Stellan was running towards her. She took a step in his direction, with bricks for feet.

"Freja, you're awake!"

She practically fell into his arms, but resisted when he tried to pull her close.

"You should have wakened me."

"You needed the sleep. Everyone was worried about you. But…"

"Me? Everyone was worried about me? Well, that's comforting," Freja's eyes were angry, and her voice hard. Stellan tried to say something, but she cut him off, "Nobody bothered to be 'worried' about how I would react, knowing Rosie…" her words caught in her throat, and her eyes grew wet.

Her husband took his chance in her silence. "Rose commanded everyone to let you sleep for at least six hours before waking you up. She said you would faint from exhaustion if you got any less than that."

Freja eyes widened. Did he really just say what she thought he did? Stellan face broke out into a wide grin, and she felt her breath quicken in excitement.

"She's… she's alive?" Freja whispered. She was too scared to say it any louder.

"Of course, she's alive!" Stellan's face was suddenly full of empathy when he realized what was happening in her head, "Goodness, Freja, is that what you thought?"

Letting out a small laugh, Freja fell heavily into her husband's shoulder. Now the tears could come. In a matter of seconds his shirt collar was wet.

"She's in the dining hall, now," Stellan continued, massaging Freja's sore back, "Her appetite is incredible. Truly. I've never seen anyone pack away so much food in one sitting."

Freja laughed again, loudly. She had been so convinced, for those few seconds, that she would never laugh again. Now, with the emotions bubbling up inside her, she found it difficult to stand. She was giddy and giggling with relief.

"Can I see her?"

Stellan stuck out his elbow. She looped arm into his and they strode down the hallway, arm in arm.

"ROSIE!" Freja screeched as they entered the dining hall. Her sister was lounging in a chair, leaning casually over a bowl of pumpkin soup. King Thomas sat very close to her, watching intently as she ate. Rosie looked up and smiling brilliantly.

"Freja!" She stood quickly as her younger sister ran into her arms. The hug was incredibly awkward, taking into account that both women had especially large, pregnant bellies, but it didn't matter. Freja rested her cheek on Rosie's shoulder, smiling as happy tears streamed down her face. She sniffed and wiped them off with her sleeve.

"Sorry," she said, with a grin.

"No, no, it's fine! Did you have a good rest?"

"I… I think so. It's all kind of a blur, really. How long was I out?"

"Ten hours."

"Wow," Freja giggled. She did feel much more alive than she had since they left Arendelle.

Gerty came out of the kitchen carrying a second bowl of pumpkin soup, which she placed on the table in front of Freja. She looked so wonderfully happy that Freja couldn't help but throw her arms around the old woman. Gerty chuckled.

"I thought you would be hungry when you woke up, sweetheart, so I made plenty of food for you both."

"Thank you, Gerty," said Stellan, over Freja's shoulder.

"So, the flower? It worked?" Freja questioned.

"It appears so," answered Thomas, standing and wrapping his strong arms around Rosie's shoulders, "It was amazing to see, really. Gerty boiled it in water to make a broth, but it was unlike anything I've ever experienced. The soup glowed golden, just like the flower. It lit up the room like a lantern, and as soon as Rose started drinking it, the light seemed to flow right into her!" The king smiled and kissed his wife gently. He put a hand down on her belly.

"Do… do you think the baby will be alright?" Freja asked tentatively.

"I felt her kick as soon as the broth went down my throat. It was the most wonderful thing!" Rosie started to tear up a bit, "I hadn't felt her move since I first got sick."

"Her?"

Rosie nodded, "I just feel it."

Freja smiled and hugged her sister again. Stellan hugged Freja, and Thomas hugged Rosie, until at last, all four people (and two unborn baby girls) were in the midst of one giant, group hug.

Freja's muffled voice sounded from inside the pile of warm bodies.

"I love you, Rosie."

"I love you, too, Freja."