A/N: So glad to see some people hanging around having faith in me! Love you all! I enjoy writing for this Southern Isles brood so much. Let's see some family fun time, including perhaps, some characters we have never met before...

Chapter Twenty

Never Shut You Out

"How are you feeling? Remember what Helen said." George jutted his neck out with an investigative stare, scrutinizing his wife's movements as she walked beside him. Through the years, the king had mastered reading his one and only love's mind and built interpreting her subtle body language into an art form. Her smile brought a swift rush of relief, but her sluggish steps forced an itching irritation to the surface and he frowned. "Don't forget her advice about your condition. After so much excitement, you must not overexert yourself, Allowyn. I won't stand for it."

"I couldn't be more relaxed," the queen replied, reaching out to take her husband's arm. She felt his tense stature sag a little with her gentle touch. "Especially since I've gained my babies back… some after I'd lost all hope." She waited for a response, but receiving none, she turned to see George harrowingly staring in the direction of one of their many ponds within the expansive grounds. "Have you spoken to Heinrik since he returned?"

The king continued to stare impassively at the water's surface. "No."

"George…" Allowyn took her husband's hands and turned him to face her, lifting her fingers to frame his cheek so he would look at her. "It's almost been a month... You can't make a future unless you move beyond the past."

"I don't know what to say to him," George admitted, brow furrowed. "He let everyone who loves him believe he was dead. I haven't seen him in fifteen years; I hardly recognize him. I don't even know where to start."

Allowyn slipped her hand into her husband's palm, intertwining their fingers to give it a gentle squeeze. "You're his father, George. Talk to him. He wants to see you; I know he does."

George nodded non-commitingly, still staring at the water, the creases in his forehead smoothing over when Allowyn parted from him. "I'll talk to him tonight after my meeting with the council to decide what should be done about the inheritance." After a moment, he added, "Harry has come to me and apologized a thousand times over already… it's amazing how different the two are."

"Speaking of different…" Allowyn began to walk alongside the pond, reaching up for a small white blossom which had been drifting on the breeze, now clinging to the sweeping branches of a grandmother willow. "Have you noticed how much the trip changed our other two sons? Hans and Heins both have been… so introverted. So…"

"Depressed," finished the king. "Hans has always been quiet, always kept to himself since the accident occurred… but Heins has never been so downcast before. I asked him what he wanted to wear to the family dinner tonight, just to elicit a response, and do you know what he said?"

"What?" asked Allowyn, twirling the stem of the small dainty flower between her fingers.

"He said, and I quote, 'I don't know'." George reached over and took the flower from his wife, tucking it behind her ear. "I'm not sure who that is, but that's not my son. He should have talked my ear entirely off about the possibilities."

Allowyn traced the patterns interlacing the bark of the willow tree thoughtfully, her expression forlorn. "He's hurting, George. I know he fell in love while he was having his little adventure… his first time away from home. You remember he told us about that girl he met in Arendelle… I know we still need to talk about his decisions to leave without telling us personally, but I can tell by his stare when he stops listening to others… he misses her. His heart is aching." She wrapped a hand loosely around the rope holding up a simple swing attached to the tree, seating herself on the plank of wood held aloft, crossing her ankles. "Poor Hans is damaged because of his meeting with Elsa. He feels like he's forgone his chance of forgiveness, I'm sure… Heins told me about their hardships. George, he's been through so much…and all he wanted was to right his wrongs…"

She dragged one of her slippers against the ground, watching the dust cloud. "Heins is heartbroken, Hans has lost his will to go on, Heinrik doesn't know who he is, and Harry has forgotten how long it's been since he's seen home… all because of my sudden illness. If not for me, they wouldn't have to rush home like this… I can't help any of my babies… my sons… George… I feel as if I'm a failure as a mother… What can we do?"

"If I knew how to fix everything, Allowyn, I would have already done so… but… there's only so much a king can do." Watching his wife's slow sway, he took hold of a rope in each hand and leaned over her until she craned her neck back to see him. He smiled at her and leaned down until he could plant a kiss on her forehead. "Do you remember the first time I pushed you on this swing?"

"Of course I do. I was pregnant with Kris. It seems so long ago now. I asked you to build it for me because I had a feeling we'd be blessed with a little girl and I thought she would come to swing with me." Allowyn felt her husband's hands slide down to cover her own and she heard his voice as he leaned down next to her and whispered.

"A woman who thinks of her children before they're even brought into the world… now does that sound like a mother who's a failure?" She smiled, training her eyes on the ground as he continued. "A woman who raises thirteen boys to coexist in the same household, who listens when her son tells her he wants to be a royal fashion coordinator and encourages him, tells him to follow his dreams. Who sits and rocks with her youngest son in her arms after he's woken in tears from a nightmare, holding him all night. Go on and tell me…" the king encouraged, kissing her ear. "Does it?"

"No." Allowyn murmured softly, her smile growing.

"I can't hear you," teased George, giving her a sudden push forward in the swing.

"Nooo! George!" Allowyn exploded into a bout of sweet laughter, her braid flying back behind her in the breeze. "George, stop!"

"What? Push harder? Alright! Anything you ask, my love!" George gave her another push, the queen pumping her feet to help herself along as she laughed.

"George! You're going to make me fall! Stop it!" Allowyn giggled, but suddenly it was caught short and her joy deflated into soft pants for breath. She held a hand out, but George had already seen her bend over and rushed to her side.

"Allowyn!" He took hold of her arm and slowed her to a stop. "Are you alright?"

"I just… lost my breath," she managed, accepting her husband's help and getting to her feet. "I'm alright… I'm fine."

"Grandma! Grandpa!" came cries from the courtyard entrance. A pair of children rushed into the courtyard garden, the little girl just ahead of the boy, her blonde pigtails flying out behind her. "Grandma!" She flung herself against Allowyn, who knelt on her knees to greet the children, the boy hugging the king's leg, burying his head into the smooth material of his pants and looking up at George with bright green eyes.

"Oh! Oh, what a wonderful surprise! Oh, my! Where did you come from?" Allowyn asked, planting kisses on the girl's cheek and hugging the boy in turn with her husband.

"Mother! Father!" From a little ways away, walking swiftly, but not running, approached Harvard, the eldest of the Southern Isles line, known better by his people as the king of the neighboring Northern Isles. A little ways behind him his queen followed, blonde as her daughter, her hair the shade of golden wheat. Harvard bent into a respectful bow as he approached, but it was interrupted by George taking his son into a crushing embrace, causing his breath to come as a wheeze. "Hello!"

"When did you arrive? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"George set his son down, but kept an arm warmly around his shoulders. "I had no idea!"

"That's the point of a surprise, isn't it?" Harvard replied, taking his mother's hands to help her up. "I came as soon as I heard. Mother, what do the doctors say? How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I couldn't be better now that my grandbabies are here…" Allowyn crooned, giving each child's chubby cheek a kiss, which the boy wiped away afterward. "This is so nice… I'm alright, sweetheart. I only need rest. I'm so happy to see you. How long are you staying?"

"I've set my stewards to work keeping the kingdom running smoothly for at least a few weeks before I'm needed back… but that's not important. The important thing is that you feel better as soon as possible." Harvard hugged his mother and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

"We couldn't stay in the Northern Isles after the news came you were feeling so ill, Allowyn," spoke the golden-haired woman beside him.

"Thank you, Adelle." Allowyn reached to give the woman's hand a squeeze. "You all must be so tired after your long journey. Why don't we settle you into some of our finest guest rooms and then we'll all have dinner together- as a family! I don't think we've all been in the same room for more than a decade," Allowyn breathed, walking back to George and taking his arm for support.

"Aw, but I wanted to explore the gardens!" chimed in the little girl, pouting.

"Me too!" echoed the boy, wriggling away from his mother's hand. "Please, can we?"

"You can't be out on your own in the castle grounds, Peter, Annika. You need a chaperone," chided their father, serving them a stern look.

"But Fatherrr…" groaned Peter.

"Oh, go on, Harvard," George waved a hand. "Let the children have their fun. You were a young boy begging me to stay outside once, too. They won't get into trouble in the courtyards."

"I have an idea." Allowyn ventured, raising a hand in the air as eyes turned to face her. "Why don't you two see if you can find Hans and Heins in the courtyards? The two have been spending most of their time together whenever they're out of their rooms. Last I heard they were wandering the grounds together and I bet they would be more than happy to see you. Tell them it's almost time for the family dinner and they'll bring you inside with them."

Harvard raised an eyebrow. "All of the brothers here? At the same time? Are you certain that's a good idea, mother?"

"Nonsense, of course it is! It will be wonderful to see everyone together again." Allowyn released a soft exhale. "Now, George, let's go and get ready ourselves. We want to join the family as soon as possible. We have a lot to talk about, I'm sure… and you know the council likes to keep detailed records when it comes to inheritance. We might not make it before dessert if we don't get goiiing…"

"Alright, alright," George agreed with his wife, nodding to his son. He sensed his wife was exhausting herself and turned his focus on her. "We'll talk more later tonight, son. I want to hear all about your journey and how the kingdom has been running."

"Yes, sir." Harvard faced his children and held out one finger as he spoke, pointing vaguely at them. "Now, you two behave yourselves. Your mother and I will likely be taking audience in the gallery or the sunroom. When you're finished out here I want you to come find us. Understand?"

"Yes, father!" Both children echoed in unison.

"Alright then." Holding out an arm for his wife, Harvard waved his children off and watched them disappear. Only when they were completely gone from his sight did he turn and head for the castle.

"What did you mean by asking whether all of you together at the same time was a good idea?" asked Adelle as servants opened the doors to the inside of the castle.

"You only have one brother, Adelle," replied Harvard. "I have twelve. A few of us at a time I can handle… but so many in one room? I'm not so sure… especially after what Hans has done."

"All the more reason to bring everyone together. I'll take the children tonight and you can spend quality time with your brothers." Adelle squeezed his arm. "Everything will be just fine."

#

"I bet you can't do this, Annika!" challenged Peter, hopping on top of a log and balancing using both arms held out, hopping out at the end. The two had wandered a fair distance from the castle.

"Bet I can!" the little girl responded, following her brother with a great deal more wobble.

"Hey! There's uncle Heins!" shouted the girl, pointing towards a small pond in a secluded corner of the courtyard. Sitting on top of a stump, his cheek cupped in his right hand which rested on his knees, Heins held a stick in his free hand, stirring the surface of the murky waters in steady, repetitive circles.

"And uncle Hans, too!" said the boy directly after, pointing nearby Heins where Hans leaned against a tree, head drooping. "Uncle Hans! Uncle Hans!"

Hans looked up, stunned as the two children screeched to a halt in front of him. "…Peter? Annika?" The sight of his nephew and niece made him straighten from leaning. He hadn't seen his nephew and niece for some time now. "What are you doing here?"

"Father came to see grandma!" Peter spouted before his sister could. "We came to find you!"

"No, we didn't!" Annika scolded him. "We came to explore the gardens, but grandma told us to come and find you and tell you it was time for dinner!" She wandered over next to Heins and shifted next to him, smiling at her uncle. Although the children had only been able to visit scarcely, she remembered him as one of the kinder uncles who paid her attention despite her age and had made her beautiful gowns before, the likes of which her mother could not reproduce, which made her gravitate towards him immediately. "What are you doing?"

Although his brothers already knew about his depression, and his ache was clear to family, Heins could not keep from returning the innocent little girl's smile, who did not know how much sorrow he felt. "Looking for buried treasure."

"Did you find any yet?" His niece asked, peering into the cloudy pond waters with a scrutinizing look.

"Not yet," replied Heins, sighing and cocking an elbow, throwing the stick as far as he could, where it went flying across the pond and finally splashing a decent distance away. "I can look all I want… but I won't find what I want here."

"Wow, that was a good throw, uncle!" exclaimed Peter, bending down to pick up some stones. "Watch this one!" The boy chucked the stone which proceeded to plop unceremoniously into the water with a small plip noise. "Aw, man… it didn't even make a big splash."

Hans watched as his nephew tried again with a similar result. His eyebrows furrowing a little, he bent down and picked up a white, flat rock, rubbing it between his fingers thoughtfully. Staring at the pure, blank color, his thoughts drifted to one thing. It was a familiar thing, the same thing which had joined his dreams about his sister and in the same way occasionally caused him to forget the world around him in wake of one name.

Elsa.

The stone turned over in his hands as steadily as his ruminating thoughts, over and over, again and again. Had she been thinking about him as much as he had her? What was his next step? Did he have another chance? Was forgiveness even possible at this stage? How could he forget what he had done? How could he hope for anything?

"Uncle Hans… Uncle Hans."

Hans blinked rapidly, stunned back into reality by his nephew tugging on his tailcoat. "What?"

"I asked how far you can throw it." Peter said, tucking his hands behind his back and rocking on his heels.

Hans enclosed the stone tightly within his fist, fingers squeezing closer and closer together until no white remained. Then he curled his wrist back and let the pebble go with a snap. It flew across the surface of the pond, gracefully skipping six times before sinking below the surface.

"Wow! What a throw!" Peter exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. "That was great! Did you see that, Annika? It skipped six times!"

"Yeah, I've never seen anyone get that many skips." Annika said, more interested in her reflection as she stroked her blonde bun, trying to keep a large wayward strands in place. Finally giving a little huff and letting the golden strand dangle down, she put her hands on her Uncle's knee and gave him a doe-eyed pleading stare. "Uncle Heins, can you please help me with my hair?"

"Alright, Annika… lean back a little." Compliantly, Heins leaned over the little girl and with a fluent hand, took out the pins holding her hair back. Putting them in his mouth, he held them steadily between his teeth and bunched her hair back once more with a few twists. He fastened it and reached down to pick a small piece of lilac from nearby, tucking it in to finish his work. "There… pretty as a picture."

"Thank you!" Taking his hand, she stood. "Come on, dinner's almost ready!"

"Uncle Hans," Peter hovered around his relative like a puppy as they walked and took a deep breath. "I heard father talking to mother earlier when he thought Annika and I weren't listening and he said that you took a ship from grandpa all by yourself after grandpa told you not to and got caught in a huge storm and found uncle Heinrik who's a pirate and you eventually landed at Arendelle and went to an even huger party… erm… no, he said extravaganza!"

Hans and Heins both froze in step, and by the end Heins was smiling at his brother, lifting a single shoulder in a shrug. "I guess he takes after me a little."

"Is all that true?" asked Peter, looking at his uncle for answers.

Hans hesitated for a moment, and then decided it was better to reveal the truth and be done with it. "Yes. It's true."

"Wow!" Peter broke into a grin spreading from ear to ear. "That's amazing!" He leaned over to make eye contact with Annika. "See? I told you they were some of the cool uncles."

"I already knew that…" Annika murmured as she nuzzled Heins' hand, flashing him a shy smile.

Hans exchanged looks with his brother, his expression only thinly veiling his discomfort.

"Don't worry," Heins soothed, putting a hand of support on his brother's shoulder. "We've come this far together…. We can make it the rest of the way."

#

At first, the only shared topic between the Westergard clan was silence, accompanied by an occasional clink of a fork or swallow. The brothers arrived steadily, the last to enter being Harald, as was typical of him. His shrewd, calculating gaze swept the room, passing from brother to brother, resting a tad longer on those he had not seen in a while, and took his assigned seat.

He cleared his throat and lifted a glass of wine already poured before him. "Apologies for my lateness. I had to reposition guard rounds because of our visitors."

"It's quite alright, Harald," said Harvard, nodding once, observing his brother's gleaming chest adorned in medals, "I guessed you were a man of importance here."

"Well, not all of us were just handed kingdoms to rule, were we, Harvard?" Harald said, keeping eye contact as he drank from his goblet.

"Oh, don't start our reunion with underlining bitterness," ventured Hubert, the second-eldest, pointing his fork across the way to his brother. "God knows we've seen enough of that. Let's talk about family matters."

"Yes, let's do." Harvard forced a smile and turned his attention on his youngest brothers. "Hans, I hear you've had quite the adventure."

"Yes, and we've yet to hear about it," Harken ventured, fingers spread on the surface next to his plate. As he spoke, he weaved his carving knife inbetween the spaces, back and forth, leaving dents in the wood from the blade. "One"- thunk- "would" -thunk- "almost" -thunk- "think you were hiding something."

"Please, Harken, not at the table," Helm sighed, kneading his temples.

"I simply must get my practice in, Helm," Harken responded.

"Practice for what?" quietly ventured Harry, wide eyes glued on the way his older brother maneuvered the knife inches from his hand.

Harken's lips parted to reveal his teeth, the knife hovering in mid-air. "We have a man accused of thievery in custody, brother."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "…and? What does a thief have to do with your knife?"

Harken plunged the knife down into the belly of a roasted pig in the middle of the table. Meeting his brother's horrified gaze, he grinned. "How well can a thief steal without his fingers?"

"Let's change the subject to something a little more colorful," Hugo said, swallowing a mouthful of wine. "I hear that Heins found himself a little action in Arendelle… feminine action."

Heins looked up from his plate to meet Hugo's eyes, his gaze steady. "It's true. I met a woman."

"Oh-ho-ho! Did everyone hear that? After rejecting princess after duchess after ambassador, he finally finds the one! I thought it would never happen! Was it the princess?" Hugo broke into a grin. "It was, wasn't it? I knew it! Hans tries for the queen while Heins gets the princess! Well, who knew it was possible?" He took a bite of a drumstrick. "But then, of course, it was bound to happen with your… remarkably strange fashion fascinations." He chewed, swallowed, and pointed with his fork. "The whole kingdom is always talking about it, you know. It's not right for a prince to make clothes… soon you'll start crocheting and knitting… don't you think it odd?"

"Our family? Odd?" Horatio commented, twirling his fork between his fingers. "Where would you get an idea like that?"

"That is enough of that talk." Helm tapped his glass to get attention. "We should be celebrating. Heinrik was lost for fifteen years. I will be the first to say… welcome back, brother." He lifted a glass to his right. "To a fresh start!"

"To a fresh start!" echoed the table.

"So good to have you home safe and sound, Heinrik." Helm's eyes drifted from his brother to his elbows, which were both placed on the table as he ate.

"Good to be back," Heinrik replied as he swallowed a mouthful of bread.

"Ahem." Helm cleared his throat, getting Heinrik's attention, and shifted his arms, resting his wrists on the table edge.

"Something to say, brother?" Heinrik asked, leaning over the table.

"It's just… well, it's understandable you'd be unused to royal mannerisms after being lost to piracy for so long, but… your elbows," he murmured, half-smiling. "Remember you're a prince."

"A… prince." Heinrik looked down and then back up at his brother. For a moment, Hans could swear there was a faint sadness in his eyes, but they closed and reopened replaced with fire. He brought his cup of wine to his lips, downed it noisily with three gulps, and faced Helm with a trickle of red running down the corner of his lips. Then, leaning on his elbows, he smirked, inhaled, and released a resounding belch. Lowering his voice, he cocked his head as he faced Helm. "Prince enough for you?"

Half of the brothers either burst into laughter or cleverly hid it behind fists. Even Horatio, who often looked as if he were attending a funeral, concealed his snort of laughter as some cheese going down the wrong pipe.

"I don't believe you!" Helm exclaimed, frowning.

"What? You just assumed that I would shove on the crown and that would be the end of it? Is your plan to force me back into the role I was born to fill?" Heinrik started, leaning back.

"Whoa, whoa. Don't get upset. Let's get on the same page here. All I want is to help you settle back into how a prince should be."

"Why is there a set standard on what's expected of a prince, anyway?" Heins suddenly asked, drawing attention to himself. "I mean, if someone wanted to be a royal fashion coordinator, or be a pirate or… or marry someone who isn't born into royalty, they could do that, couldn't they?"

"What are you talking about, marrying someone not born into royalty?" scrutinized Hugo.

"There's only one standard set for a prince." Hans said, forcing all eyes to him. "Only one. And we all know it." He closed his eyes as he spoke. "A prince forgets the trespasses against him, no matter how terrible. He sacrifices for others, even to the expense of his soul. He forgives until he forfeits breath. He is strong, he is compassionate, and the sum of these things makes him complete."

"Amen to that! Hear, Hear!" came cries and approving pounds on the table from around the room.

"So…" Harald spoke in a cool, unemotional tone, cutting a piece of meat. "How did that work out for you, Hans?"Bringing the meat to his lips, he stared his brother down.

Heinrik looked to Hans, watching the way his eyes fell to his plate, the way his jaw tightened. He shoved Helm with an elbow, changing the subject to save his brother further discrimination. "I've learned things at sea you wouldn't believe. I wager I can beat you in a sparring match, right here, right now."

"During dinner?" retorted Helm with raised eyebrows.

"Why not? Unless you're afraid you'll lose," Heinrik shrugged.

"With what weaponry? Unless you intended us to use our forks," he held the utensil out.

"Use the decorative swords," enthused Harken, grinning. "They may look pretty but they're sharp enough. The first one to pin the other wins."

"Alright then, deal." Helm rose from his seat and wandered to the wall, removing the swords from their mount and handing one off to Heinrik, who rose as well, feeling the weight of the blade as it was handed to him. "Don't hurt yourself trying to best me, brother." He unsheathed the blade and set the protective cover aside.

Heinrik smiled, twirled the sword, and flung the sheath aside with the momentum. "I won't."

"Oh, dinner and a show!" enthused Harken, shifting his chair to the side and propping his feet up on Hugo's armrest. "I do enjoy having the family together again!"

Before anyone else could object or approve, the fight began. The swords clashed, clanging and ringing like the bells on church days. Whatever confidence Helm first had on his face melted away swiftly into tense concentration as his thrusts quickly shifted into parries, his offense into defense. He shifted stances quick enough to stay on par, but he was not gaining any ground as sweat began to bead on his forehead.

The sweat slid down the ridge of his nose and dripped beside his eyes, blurring his sight. He met swords with Heinrik and kept his balance, shaking his head to rid it of the excess moisture. They'd moved around the room from one end to the other while some brothers merely watched and others, like Hugo and Harken, whispered to one another. Helm analyzed his brother's form to try and pinpoint it, but was unable to find his technique at all. He narrowed his eyes, watched, and finally found a single weak spot, the only one he would ever need.

He sliced horizontally, blocking Heinrik against the wall, Helm's sword shrieking as metal met metal. His lips curved into a triumphant smile. "You always were sloppy with the technicalities of proper fencing, Heinrik."

Heinrik narrowed his eyes, curled his lip and grunted as he pushed against his brother, who chuckled.

"Honestly… use your head. You aren't even following the basics. However did you manage to survive all those years at sea?" he asked.

For a moment, the room was silent, and then Heinrik grinned, lifted his head up, and brought it slamming down into his brother's skull, making him fall back on the ground in shock. He pointed his sword tip against Helm's neck, tilting his head to make eye contact "Like that."

"Brilliant!" exploded Harken, clapping and slamming a hand down on the table. "Just magnificent! A total turn of events!" He turned and jabbed his elbow against Hugo. "Come on, pay up!"

Heinrik blinked at the two as he sheathed the sword, offering Helm an extended hand and helping him up.

Grumbling, Hugo reached into his pocket and took out a leather purse, tossing it to Harken, who caught it and jangled it lightly in the air, chuckling. "I knew you would win, good show, Heinrik. Although… fights are always the most captivating when they're to the death."

Helm said nothing at first, and then, smiling at Heinrik as the pirate captain took his seat, he nodded. "Good show, indeed." Pulling up his chair behind him, Helm placed a hand on the table for leverage, slapping his spoon by accident and flinging some mashed potatoes directly onto Heinrik's cheek with a soft splat.

Gasps incited from around the table and Heinrik reached over to wipe at his cheek.

Helm gaped and then stammered. "I… I'm sorry, Heinrik, it was a c-complete accident. I didn't mean to…"

"My turn!" Heinrik reached over and smeared mashed potato on his brother's cheek.

Helm jumped back, but it was too late. Touching his cheek, he looked in front of his place setting, where a chocolate pudding rested.

"Uhhh-ohhh…" Heins reached over and grabbed the two brothers on either side of him, Hans and Harry, pulling them down as he sank below the table.

"Uh-oh what?" Harry asked, moments before the dining room turned into a whirlwind of food flying in a sticky storm.

#

"That took much longer than I expected…" George mumbled in exhaustion, eyes set directly ahead.

Allowyn took his arm as they walked down the hall, stroking it. "But I'm so glad you did what you did, George… I think reinstating Heinrik's inheritance was the right decision."

"As do I, love… and now I'm looking forward to a nice, calm relaxing dinner with all of us here together… as a family." He paused as a ruckus became apparent in the distance. "What on earth?" Quickening his pace, the king jogged the rest of the way down the hall, his wife close behind him, and burst through the dining hall doors.

Splat!

George blinked as the room became deathly quiet, and Allowyn rounded the corner with a gasp. Food of all kinds littered the walls, floors, and even the ceilings. Nine of his children stared at him in awe, some peeking out from behind chairs, most donning some kind of jelly, gravy, or other food. The king lifted a finger to his cheek and looked at the bluish, sticky substance, frowning as his eyes locked on Heinrik, who held a spoon in one hand and a half-gone pie pan in the other.

Looking at the pan, and then his father, Heinrik quickly shoved the food into Helm's arms and sat down in his chair, eyes facing forward.

George stuck his finger in his mouth, swallowed, and faced his wife. "… a good idea, hm?"

"Your majesty! Your majesty!" A man rounded the corner and slid to a stop, mouth clapping shut at the sight of the Westergard brood.

"What?" George whirled to face the man.

"I… um… there's someone who wishes to hold an audience with you…"

"What? Who? If you haven't noticed, I'm a little busy. I'm not accepting audiences at the moment," George retorted, Allowyn putting both hands on her husband's arm to calm him with gentle strokes.

"But your majesty… I think you'll want to make time for this one… they… they came to discuss trade… from Arendelle."

Hans rose from underneath the table and exhaled a single word with a soft breath, eyes locked on his parents. "Elsa."

A/N: Hoo boy! What a dinner! I wonder I wonder who this could be… seriously loved this chapter.