Early July, 1852

Jannicke Castle,

Arendellian Countryside

The Scandinavian Royals bid goodbye to the British Royals at the end of their month-long visit; promises to inform them of the birth of the new babe were made, as well as future plans to visit England again. By the end of June, things had gone back to semi-normal; with the exception of the Jannicke Affair- but Victoria had questioned both, and they'd denied that anything happened.

And while that may have been true, it didn't take away from the fact that the pair had admitted their feelings for each other. All that time spent talking and getting to know each other had turned into the first stirrings of love for them both. And therefore, it seemed only logical to take the next step.

Which is how Lord Bismarck found himself having arrived at Jannicke Castle in early July with the royal family; for the king had arrived secretly in the dead of night a week earlier to visit his wife before her time came, and they had chosen to get away to the country while they still had time before the babe arrived- she was due to birth in a week, after all.

It was quite the picture of perfect family bliss; a fire crackled in the grate, and the queen sat upon the sofa in the sitting room with her children, reading quietly to them as the king sat at the desk, working on a letter to Victoria and Albert. Absentmindedly, she would stroke her belly as she read to them, and perhaps it was because she was seated, but she looked bigger than usual; then again, it could also have been because she was thirty-nine weeks, and had one week left before the babe would be born.

He glanced at Anna, who had looked up at his entry; he hated to ruin the beautiful image before him, and after a moment, he cleared his throat. "Your Majesties."

Elsa looked up, surprised to see him standing in the doorway, still in travel coat and gloves. "Lord Bismarck, what brings about this unexpected visit?"

The king looked up from his letter, dipping the quill into the ink with a nod to him before returning to his work. The quiet scratching and the gentle crackling of the fire were the only sounds for several minutes, before, "There's a matter I wish to discuss with you, Your Majesty? If I may?" Elsa's gaze darted to Hans, who stilled in his writing and met hers.

"And what might that be, Lord Bismarck?" Hans asked absentmindedly, as he resumed his writing.

The young man swallowed thickly, glancing at Anna, who had closed her book. "I... I would like to request your permission to..." He straightened slightly, and tried again. "I would like to request your permission to court your sister, Princess Anna."

Silence fell; Hans froze mid-sentence, and Elsa slowly closed the book she'd been reading to her children; the crackling of the fire was the only sound now. Taking a deep breath, the queen turned to her oldest. "Yes, well, that's enough for tonight. Off to bed with all four of you."

"But Mama-"

"Please, Mama, just a little bit more-"

"That's enough." The softness in Elsa's voice masked the sternness. Hans spoke up from where he'd resumed his letter.

"Do as your mother says, mine hjerter."

"But Papa-"

"That's enough, Milla. Now listen to your mother, and off to bed with all of you." The children didn't move from where they sat on the sofa on either side of her.

"But-"

"Det er nok, Camilla Helene. Nwo, before Mama has me fetch Helena." The two oldest shared glances, unsure if their father was bluffing or not. Their mother, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation at her children's' refusal, sighed.

"Hans, fetch Helena-" Her husband returned his pen to the inkwell and stood, just as their oldest hopped off the sofa.

"We're going, Mama!" Anna and Lord Bismarck watched as the four quickly pressed kisses to their mother's cheeks before doing the same to their father and going to the door.

"Anna," The princess looked up at her sister's sigh; Elsa had set the book aside, resting her hands on her belly. "see to it that our stubborn children make it to the nursery without any detours, please." Her sister nodded, scooping Sof into her arms and then following the older three out with a glance at Bismarc1k. Once they were gone, the young rulers turned back to the matter at hand. Hans set his pen aside and shifted his full attention to the matter at hand as Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Now, remind me again of- you wish to court Anna?"

"Court her! Does he even understand what he's asking? She's not only my sister, but she's a Princess; he is a lowly Lord- a member of my council, no less!"

Hans sighed as he took a seat on the bed, having just changed for bed, watching his wife work a good-sized moat into the floor of their bedchamber, the length of her streaming snow white locks. A fire crackled in the grate, warming the room, and the nightdress she wore trailed slightly behind her as she paced, the shawl she'd received from the Northuldra about her shoulders, her belly preceding her every time she turned. Because of her stature, she carried bigger than she was, though at thirty-nine weeks, that wasn't much, considering she had a week left. She wore her hair down, and now completely free of any braid, it hung far past her tailbone, past her knees even, down to her ankles, thick and lush and glossy despite its chaos. "Eliza, calm down. Getting this agitated will do no one any good, and certainly not you in your condition." Her glare only silenced him for the briefest of moments. "All I'm saying is that you have a week left before this babe makes their appearance; you need to be resting."

"Resting. What do I look like, Hans? Some delicate little flower who cannot hold her head up? We've had this discussion before, oh darling husband of mine- right before Milla was born, and I made the same case then that I'm making now: Common women work up until their labors begin- why the hell should I be any different? Just because I was born into a higher class, because I am ruling a country instead of planting wheat in a field, that justifies that I should not work until my child decides to be born? I'm sorry, husband, but that is the biggest load of lard I have ever heard come out of your mouth-"

Hans sighed; he'd done it now. He knew better than to make a fuss over his wife's working habits; she'd worked up until the births of her four other children, so of course she would do the same with this one- even though they'd taken these couple weeks to get away from court. "Eliza, I-" But she continued, waving her hands out of habit; small snow flurries popped up, and at one point it began to snow gently over the bed. He stood, going to her and grabbing her hands midturn. "Eliza, I'm sorry. I can't help it if I worry about you. You're my wife, you're carrying my child. I love you both so much."

A look of love crossed her features and she reached up, caressing his cheek. "I know, Hans, but I'm okay, the baby's okay. You need to quit worrying, or you'll get wrinkles." She sighed, pulling away and turning back to the matter at hand. "The fact that Lord Bismarck wishes to court her- court her! Just who does he think he is? What could he possibly give her? This would be a marriage of absolute inconvenience-"

"Seems fitting, doesn't it?" She stopped, turning to him, well, as best she could while heavily pregnant. "I seem to remember a conversation we had about... two? three? years ago, about how our marriage could be considered one of 'absolute inconvenience'- especially given the positions we're put in on a daily basis." He took her hands. "And given that... our family cannot spend as much time together as we would like-" She sighed.

"But we make it work, Hans."

"And Anna and Lord Bismarck won't, Eliza?" She kept quiet, dropping his hands to rub her belly. "It's not like they're getting married. Nor are they having children; he is simply wanting to court her."

"But courting is the intent to marry her-"

He sighed. "Eliza, he could court her and it may go somewhere or it may not, we don't know. But why not give them a chance to try?" After a moment, she nodded, before allowing him to lead her back to the bed. Helping her in, he settled behind her,to work on rubbing some of the stress from her back. "How are you feeling?"

She thought a moment, pulling the bottom of her nightdress up so that her belly was exposed. "I'm tired. I feel as though I'm carrying this massive boulder in front of me, and a melon between my legs whenever I walk. It is easier to breathe, though." She slid her hand down the round smoothness of her belly, towards the bottom, keeping her hand there. "Pressure. Lots and lots of pressure. I know it's because the babe's head is down and they're ready to be born, as the midwife told me last week, but still."

She sighed, bringing her hand back up the curve of her belly; the stretchmarks left from her other pregnancies were back, bright and red against her porcelain skin, which, as it had four times before, itched thanks to the stretching. He continued to work on her back, gently working the knots out.

"You will be okay to return to Linnea after I leave for the Isles? Maybe I should return with you, just in case-"

She shifted to meet his gaze. "No. Go. Your council needs you right now. You have to fix the agreement before the Swedes change everything in favor of their-"

"The Swedish Ambassador doesn't arrive until next week-"

"But you need to return this week. It can't wait, and I know that." She reached up to take his hand. He rested his forehead to hers with a sigh, reaching down to lay a hand against the underside of her belly. He could feel the firmness of the babe's head against his palm, and knew that it wouldn't be long- a matter of days, really- before the babe had engaged itself within her pelvis, and then the pressure she was felling between her thighs would intensify until her waters burst and her labor began.

"But you need me here. Our babe is about to come into the world-"

"In a week, Hans."

"A lot can happen in a week, Eliza."