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bad-at-names-and-faces · 3 months

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A New Dream

ao3

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chapter index

November 1st, 1875

Dear Rapunzel,

Please let me know immediately if you’ve heard news from Henry or Inga recently. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I have reason to worry.

Elsa

Rapunzel looked up from the letter she had just received from Elsa, quickly handing it over to Eugene, who looked over it quickly.

“Well,” Eugene said, “when was the last you heard from them?”

“It’s been several weeks,” she replied. “And the telegraph has been down the whole time.”

“I hadn’t noticed that.”

“It’s working everywhere except between Corona and the Southern Isles,” Rapunzel explained. “That seems odd, don’t you think?”

“Very odd. I hadn’t even heard anything about it.”

“I was already worried, but Elsa’s note makes me think there’s really something going on.”

Eugene put his hand on hers.

“Has Hilde heard anything?”

“No, though she’s been busy, of course.”

“Still, maybe you should ask her?”

“Of course I should, obviously.” Rapunzel sighed. “I should write back to Elsa, first.”

“Good idea. I can send a note to Hilde, if you’d like.”

“Please do,” Rapunzel said as she sat down and scribbled out a quick reply to Elsa, folding it up, and calling up the wind spirit, the way Elsa had taught her over a decade before.

***

Anna and Kristoff sat in the library silently. Their younger children were all noisily enjoying themselves, and they didn’t want any curious attention. Elsa was talking with Linne about something unrelated.

Sofia and Marie were talking amongst themselves.

“If the weather allows, we should go visit Isabella tomorrow,” Marie said. “Siggy has been away visiting his family, after all.”

“How long has Siggy been away?” Anna asked.

“Oh! Mother! We didn’t know you were listening!” Sofia exclaimed.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing.”

“Siggy went to visit a cousin in Bergen,” Sofia said.

“He didn’t come back right after Inga went to the spa?”

“You didn’t know?” Marie asked, glancing at Sofia.

Anna glanced at Kristoff, who raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps, Kristoff, we should visit Inga tomorrow.”

***

Henry stood in the back of the cathedral in Corona. Everything was draped in black, and a somber hymn was coming from the organ. Everyone was dressed in full mourning, and he could just make out his family near the front, standing silently with their heads bowed. He hurried forward, but nobody seemed to pay any attention to him. He reached the front. His sister’s face was covered with a veil, but he could see hints of tears streaking her cheeks, and their grandmother was holding her. He looked at his parents, and his mother in particular looked silently inconsolable, and his father was focusing on her, not looking up.

“Mother, I’m here!” he announced, reaching for her hand, but it was like touching a statue, and no one seemed to see him.

He realized that Inga wasn’t there. Looking around, he saw Aggie to the side, with an unfamiliar governess holding his hand.

“I want to go home,” his son whimpered.

“You’re next in line now,” the governess whispered. “You need to stay here for your education.”

***

Henry gasped for air, and looking around, realized that he was in Arendelle, sitting in a meadow overlooking the fjord. Some people walked past, in the direction of the town below.

“Very sad, isn’t it?” the one said.

“Yes, and both so young. Senseless, if you ask me.”

Henry stood up and chased after them. “What happened? Who are you talking about?” he asked.

They ignored him.

“Splitting up the children like that, too. Everyone says that the Queen in Corona will never die, anyway, so why do they have to take the boy away from his family here?”

Henry felt a pit in his stomach. Was he dead? And what did they mean by both of them?

“Please, stop!” he shouted, trying in vain to pull at the two.

***

Henry woke up to the sound of someone walking in the corridor. It was the dreary room he had been in for what had to be at least a month now. He had forgotten to keep track. He stared at the window up above. It was sunny again, that much he could see. He hadn’t seen any people walking by, so he supposed he wasn’t in a basement room, but of course he couldn’t be certain.

The dreams lingered in his mind. He wondered what they thought about him being gone so long. But why would Inga be in any danger? It was just a dream, though. Inga was safe at home. He was sure of it.

Just then he was startled by a knock at the door.

“Yes?” he asked.

The door opened and a man walked in. Henry didn’t recognize him, but something about his appearance made him think that he might be related to the royal family.

“Your Highness,” he intoned, “someone of your station deserves much better accommodation than this.”

The man gestured at the room.

“Who are you?”

“I am someone interested in your well-being,” he replied mysteriously.

Henry rolled his eyes at the man’s vague reply.

“Well, anyway, the accommodation isn’t what bothers me,” Henry replied. “Can you tell me why I’m here?”

“We will determine that later. The important thing is that we come to an understanding.”

“Excuse me, but I think I deserve to know why I’m here. If you don’t have a reason for holding me-”

“We haven’t yet told anyone where you are. There are some people staying at your embassy who seem to be old friends, but our sources can’t tell us much more. Depending on your cooperation here, before we reveal where you are, we can come up with an unfortunate accident, during which some kind soul was unaware of your identity, or we have the power to turn it into a scandal. The choice is yours.”

“What are you even talking about? What kind of choice are you talking about?”

“My sources tell me that you know something of use to us.”

“Once again,” Henry asked, increasingly agitated, “can you please tell me what this is about? If it’s about marrying off one of my wife’s sisters, that’s out of the question.”

“Oh, no,” the man laughed. “Some of them might be interested in that, but I’m more interested in the instability that will come when the line of succession goes to some distant duchy.”

“I don’t see how that’s in anyone’s interest,” Henry scoffed. “Besides, we all know that the Duke of Bielko is in line for practically every throne, however distantly. He was even third in line for Arendelle for a while.”

“I believe your own wife knocked him off of that position when she was born,” he chuckled.

“That is true,” Henry acknowledged. “And we all hope that Arendelle’s line of succession will remain secure. I mean no disrespect to the Duke of Bielko, of course.”

“The Duke of Bielko has a very nice life,” the man smirked. “One you yourself might find enviable. His duties extend little beyond that of running a large estate, and I’ve been told he is quite content with his lot. He gets to spend most of his time on his hobbies and relaxing with his family.”

“Yes, that does sound quite nice,” Henry agreed. “From what I’ve heard, I don’t believe he has any interest in taking on the leadership of a vast colonial empire like the Southern Isles. So explain what you’re thinking.”

“You were very young in 1848, of course, but there are those who were left disappointed.”

“Yes, of course,” Henry nodded, not needing a history lesson. “So a succession crisis would be quite useful. I think I understand now. What does this have to do with me?”

“Does the name Ludvig Holst ring a bell?” the man asked him.

“I remember Prince Ludvig mentioning someone by that name before I found myself here,” Henry answered. “But that’s just about the only thing I can tell you. I know he’s in newspapers.”

“Yes, well, he was in newspapers.”

“Was?”

“He came to an unfortunate end earlier this week.”

“Oh!” Henry gasped. As much as the name had sounded almost sinister when he was contemplating meeting with the proprietor of cheap papers focused on royal gossip, he wished nobody ill.

“You may have guessed his relation to Prince Ludvig,” the man hinted.

Henry thought for a moment. “Indeed, I hadn’t thought about that. Ludvig is a common enough name. But I assume you’ll tell me that he was more than simply a business associate?”

“Indeed, Ludvig had acknowledged as much, legally, though being in the position of controlling the press, he had managed to keep this quiet for the time being.”

“I see,” Henry said. “That is indeed unfortunate, but as you may be aware, I never met Ludvig Holst. I still fail to understand what role I have in all of this.”

“Your position, or rather, your close connection to Arendelle, is what we’re interested in. You see, we have reason to believe that there is another potential heir, yet to be publicly acknowledged, living in Arendelle.”

“This would be news to me,” Henry said, remaining technically honest. “I am aware of no such person in Arendelle. Do you care to tell me what you do know?”

“I only know what has been rumored,” he said, handing Henry one of the more notorious gossip papers from Corona. “For example, there are rumors of your wife’s activities since you’ve been gone.”

Henry looked at the paper. Assuming the paper was real, it seemed that October had already passed. For all the promises he had made Inga for when he would return at the end of the summer, he never thought he would still be away after this much time.

He skimmed the front page, which spoke of Inga running off to Bergen with the captain of the Arendelle guard. He knew her friendliness with Siggy was something people whispered and speculated about, though why they would think she was going all the way to Bergen with him, he didn’t know.

“This is nonsense,” Henry declared. “And I can only assume this supposed heir you’ve heard about is nonsense as well.”

“And yet, that is the same captain of the guard who has been rumored to be your wife’s lover since before you were married. Some even suspect-”

“I’m familiar with these rumors,” Henry retorted. “There’s nothing to them.”

“Are you saying there was nothing irregular about your wedding, then?”

“That’s not what I said,” Henry replied bluntly. “But bringing in people who had nothing to do with it doesn’t help anything.”

***

It was a dark, windy morning, and Arianna woke up in the nursery to see everyone else still asleep, and the nanny presumably gone to take care of their breakfast. She left quietly, but her brothers were fast asleep, so it probably didn’t matter. She wanted to see her grandmother, because something had seemed not quite right.

She gently knocked at the door of the study, which swung open to reveal an empty room. Walking to the window, no one was outside, but that wasn’t much of a surprise given the weather. She heard some commotion coming from the library, and found Sofia and Marie on the sofa, looking over a stack of newspapers.

“Good morning,” she said. “Where is everyone else?”

“Oh, good morning, Arianna,” Sofia said. “Everyone else is asleep, except Mother and Father and Aunt Elsa, but they left late last night.”

“Left?” Arianna asked. “Where?”

“They wouldn’t say,” Marie said. “Mother said she wanted to see about some business matters in Bergen.”

“I think we know the real reason,” Sofia smirked. “They could have just sent Father if it was a trade guild matter.”

“What do you mean?” Arianna asked.

“Sofia, she doesn’t need to hear about that,” Marie whispered.

Sofia blushed, and started gathering up the papers. Arianna noticed that they were from Corona, not Arendelle. Her parents never let her read the papers from Corona.

“You’re right, Marie,” Sofia sighed. “Ariana, you probably don’t want to read any of the newspapers right now.”

“Oh! What’s this?” Olaf had entered the room without anyone noticing, and was reaching for one of the newspapers still on the floor. “That looks like it’s about Inga!”

Sofia and Marie were shaking their heads.

“Nothing interesting,” Sofia insisted, grabbing the paper from Olaf. “Just some gossip from one of the Corona papers.”

***

The road toward Bergen was well-maintained, but the wind and drizzle made the journey miserable. Kristoff drove them silently, while Anna rode in back with her sister. Sleep was a good excuse not to voice her thoughts of what they might find. Part of her almost hoped to find out that Inga was having some kind of affair. They could figure something out. People did that, didn’t they? But the Southern Isles, she didn’t want to think about that. Corona had taken care of dealings with the Southern Isles for thirty years now on behalf of Arendelle, and it seemed to be working.

The wind had died down and the drizzle subsided when they pulled up at the end of the path leading to the spa. The establishment showed all the signature details of an Oaken establishment, except a sign outside told passers by that they were closed for a private party.

“Elsa?” she said as they pulled to a stop.

“I think I’ll stay here for now,” her sister replied.

Anna nodded, glancing at Kristoff, who gave a quick nod in return to go ahead.

She walked up to the door and knocked.

“Your Majesty!” Renata gasped as she opened the door.

“Hello, Renata, I hope I’m not troubling you too much,” Anna apologized, “but I need to speak with my daughter, and I understand that she’s reserved your entire resort for the past month.”

“That’s true,” Renata replied nervously, “Her Highness has reserved the place. We haven’t taken any other guests since her arrival.”

“Thank you,” Anna said cautiously, realizing that the family were probably following Inga’s own orders. She would save any possible anger for her own daughter, not Renata or anyone working here. “Wait here a moment, please?”

Anna walked to the main road where the wagon had stopped.

“Is she here?” Kristoff asked as he came down from the wagon.

“I don’t think so,” Anna replied. “I don’t want to go charging in making them think they’re going to be arrested for treason or something.”

“No, of course not,” he nodded.

Elsa stepped down from the back. “I told you I was fairly certain she’s not here.”

“Yes, but we need to find out where she actually is,” Anna insisted, “And maybe find out why she felt compelled to just leave like that.”

Kristoff took Anna’s hand. “We’ll wait here.”

Anna took a deep breath and walked back to the door. “Can you tell me if Inga is here now?”

Renata looked uncomfortable, glancing back inside. “Your Majesty, please, I don’t want any scandal. Nobody has spoken to anyone.”

“I… I hadn’t thought there would be a scandal,” Anna replied. “I promise you won’t be in any trouble with me. May I come in?”

Renata nervously opened the door wide, and Anna stepped inside. Several members of the extended Oaken family had gathered in the kitchen, and Anna felt the strong urge to apologize for her interruption, but then reminded herself that they were covering up Inga’s whereabouts.

She stopped right behind Renata, anxious to find out what they had to say. There was some commotion by the main stairway in the front hall, and she saw Inga’s maid being led downstairs, looking terrified.

“Your Majesty,” she said with a deep curtsey.

“Oline?” Anna asked. “Where is Inga?”

“Your Majesty,” the maid replied, sounding like she was ready to cry, “Her Highness left me here. I was ordered not to say anything.”

“Did she tell you where she was going?”

“She was going on to Bergen, but she didn’t say if they were staying there.”

“They?”

“Oh…” Oline sighed. “She didn’t want him to get in trouble. It was all her idea.”

“What? What was her idea? And who is going to be in trouble?”

“Can you promise that you won’t get anyone in trouble?”

“I promise to be fair,” Anna told her.

The maid looked around nervously, and took a deep breath. “Captain Olsen took her on to Bergen, but I swear I wasn’t the one who told the papers.”

“Which papers?”

“One of the papers from Corona. The family here gets several of them each week.”

***

Eugene stood alone on the terrace, pacing nervously.

“Father?” Hilde asked. “I came as soon as I got your letter. What’s going on?”

“Has Henry written to you recently? Or maybe Inga?”

“No. Inga hardly ever writes to me. Henry hasn’t written since the summer, but he sometimes forgets, you know.”

“Have you heard from anyone in the Southern Isles?” Eugene asked her.

“No, but the Dowager has mentioned some gossip that never makes it into the newspapers.”

“I haven’t seen her since your wedding, how’s she doing?”

“Quite well, but she’s very worried for her daughter, the one married to the Duke of Bielko. It seems that anyone with a connection to the Southern Isles family is starting to worry.”

“I hadn’t heard about that.”

“I’m surprised. Henry has been complaining about the succession crisis in his letters to me.”

“Really?” Eugene asked. “He doesn’t bring up politics in his letters to us.”

“He knows I like some good gossip, I guess. Some of the princes are trying to get married again, and they think Henry could connect them to the young single princesses of Arendelle.”

“Well, they do have a few of those,” Eugene laughed in spite of himself. He was not feeling any less nervous, but at least it almost made sense now. Almost.

“Hilde, do you have any of those letters with you?”

“Not with me here, but they’re at the cottage,” she said.

“If you don’t mind sharing them, they might be helpful.”

***

Eugene found Rapunzel in their room.

“I just talked to Hilde,” he announced. “She has letters from the dowager Princess of Glowerhaven with information that might be of interest, and she left to get them. None of this is showing up in any of the newspapers, but the Duke of Bielko seems to be worried that he’ll actually be in line for succession.”

“I know they’re having a bit of a succession crisis

“Is there anything we can do right now?” she asked him.

He stood silently for a moment.

“Has anyone been in their room?” he asked.

“Just the cleaning staff once a week, I think,” Rapunzel said. “It seems invasive.”

Eugene sighed. “They might both be in trouble, we need to go.”

Rapunzel was relieved that her spare key still opened the door to their son’s room, but of course the servants would have a working key, as well, but she didn’t want the questions that would come from asking them.

The place was obviously not lived in. Henry had visited briefly during one of his diplomatic trips during the past year, but Inga had been in Arendelle for over two years now with their children. Rapunzel knew it wasn’t personal, but she wished she could see them more often.

She and Eugene stood at the door, looking around. In one corner were several of Henry’s paintings, partially finished, simply leaning against the wall behind an easel. Inga had left very few things besides a closet full of dresses that were obviously only worn in Corona. Rapunzel walked over to the small bookshelf by the bed, next to Inga’s writing desk. The top of the desk was completely empty, except for a small portrait of her, obviously Henry’s work, and from the look of Inga’s hair, possibly painted soon after the two had met.

“Should we look in the drawers?” Eugene asked.

“Oh, of course!” Rapunzel said, wondering why she hadn’t started with that. The first drawer contained a single sheet of paper, carefully folded. She opened it up, quickly folding it back.

“What was that?” Eugene asked.

“It’s from Henry. It’s- I think they had a sort of game of leaving notes for each other… here.”

She felt like she was invading their son’s privacy, but perhaps Eugene would notice something in it that she hadn’t.

November 2nd, 1869

Dear Inga,

I’m going to be traveling again. I’ll see if you can find this note. I already miss you. I’ve left a surprise for Ariana in the nursery, and I’ll get something for both her and Aggie while I’m in the Southern Isles.

Much love,

Yours,

Henry

“This was five years ago,” Eugene observed, setting the letter back into the drawer.

“Six years ago,” Rapunzel corrected, then shook her head. “Not that it matters…”

“What about the other drawer?” Eugene asked.

Rapunzel felt a small frame, and pulled out a miniature painting, about the size of a book. She turned it over and held it up to reveal a painting of a mermaid resting on a half dressed young man.

“We weren’t meant to see that, put it back,” Eugene said quickly.

“Why?” Rapunzel asked, then looked closer, realizing that the faces were those of Henry and Inga. “Yes, that’s going back where it came from.”

She closed the drawer as quietly as she could, as Henry or Inga might walk in at that moment.

“Is there anything on the shelves?”

Rapunzel squatted down and looked at the shelves underneath. There were novels in various languages, and a Portuguese phrasebook. Then she saw a book at the back with nothing written on the spine. She pulled it out from the shelf, carefully opening it to the first page.

“I’m pretty sure this is Inga’s writing,” she sighed. “I can’t read this, though. Now I wish I’d put in some effort to learn the language…”

“Let me take a look,” Eugene said, taking the book. “This is from nine years ago. Nothing too astounding, pretty much the usual stuff someone would say starting out a diary.”

***

Inga sat in the Embassy dining room with Lars. John had just returned from the staff outing, and most of them were heading to their rooms to sleep the rest of the day, as the rain had meant that most of their revelries involved the beer hall rather than outdoor amusements.

John walked in with a bowl of soup.

“Here, Inga, I know that you haven’t had much appetite lately, but I think this will help. You should eat more.”

“Wait, carrot soup?” Inga asked, smelling the familiar odor.

“Yes, I remembered Halima telling me it’s what you usually eat if you don’t have a good appetite. She said it was a family favorite.”

“Well, thank you, John,” she said. Inga never remembered actually ordering it from Halima, but it did always seem to be on hand when she claimed she had no appetite.

“Some food would do you some good,” Lars said. “By the way, John, did you see this?”

Lars showed him a card.

“Bielsko is hosting a party tonight?” John asked. “You want me to find out who’s going to be there, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“The Duke of Bielsko is next in line for the throne of the Southern Isles after the royal family, isn’t he?” Inga mused between bites of soup.

“And for Arendelle’s after your family,” Lars said. “They’re married into nearly every family. I wonder if Glowerhaven will be there. Have you met the Princess of Glowerhaven?”

“No,” Inga said. “Only her younger daughter, once, in Corona. She was interested in Frederick, of course.”

“Of course,” John laughed. “But who wasn't?”

Lars took back the invitation, and rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Wait… Maldonia… Inga, which ones have you met?”

Inga hesitated, remembering exactly what Lars was referring to. “The older brother… oh, and his sister.”

“Which one is the older brother?” John asked.

“Tarkan is the older one,” Lars replied. “Good thing, too, since we know he’s not in town.”

Inga relaxed a bit. “Still, I suppose I’d be recognized by someone if I went.”

“Not necessarily,” Lars said. “You have a reputation for not being seen at foreign events, you know.”

“Do I?” Inga asked.

“Honesty may be the perfect disguise, as you learned when you arrived here,” Lars said.

“What do you mean?”

“You will go as my half sister Ingeborg. You will dress up, of course, that much is expected.”

“Are you sure about this?” John asked.

“Yes, quite sure,” Lars said. “That is, if you agree.”

Inga thought about it. It was tempting. “It might be interesting,” she admitted.

“Good,” Lars said, standing up. “Even though we didn’t learn very much at the opera, I think that you will hear things that neither John nor I would be able to learn.”

“When should I be ready?” Inga asked.

Lars looked at the card, then the clock. “We should probably be ready to go in an hour. John, why don’t you get the carriage ready, and I’ll let the maid know. You should finish that soup.”

#frozen fanfic #tangled fanfiction #prince of two realms #1875 #kristanna #OC Inga #OC Lars Nilsen #rapunzel #eugene fitzherbert

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timetravelingpenguin1066 · 1 year

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Of Irland, Chapter 17

Chapter 1 \\ Chapter 16 \\ Series Masterlist

Instead of being taken captive in Winchester, Stiorra leaves for Irland with a friend of her father’s. There she meets Sigtryggr, a Dane, the grandson of Ivar the Boneless.

Chapter 17: I am to Die

Chapter warnings: Language, injury Words: 2141 AO3

Days passed and the Irish threat grew greater. While Stiorra wandered around the Great Hall aided by a cane, the warriors prepared for battle. Swords and axes were sharpened, armour repaired. Healing supplies were gathered.

Preparations for a siege were also made. Food was stored and rationed. The walls were strengthened.

Everything was ready for the attack.

A scout came with the news. The Irish were only two miles from the city.

“They’ll attack us tomorrow at dawn,” Sigtryggr stated.

“Then we’ll meet them halfway,” Ivar ordered.

Drifa shook her head. “One mile is too close. We should attack them tonight while they’re still sleeping.”

For once, Ivar did not argue. Either because he was too tired to, or because he knew somewhere deep down that Drifa was right.

After that meeting, Sigtryggr approached Stiorra.

“I need you to look after my sisters,” he said. “Gudrid has nightmares and Aldis is…”

“That sort of age,” she giggled. He nodded. “You’ll come back from this.”

“I know I will. I just need you to look after them while I’m gone.”

Then he left with the rest of the men. Thank the gods Drifa had finished his armour.

Stiorra sat down with Aldis and Gudrid after everyone left. The Great Hall was unusually quiet. There was never a night when there was no noise; Rognvaldr’s bed creaking from the weight of typically more than one woman, Ivar raging at something. Snores and groans from other residents.

She whispered stories into the darkness, tales of the gods and monsters. Whispering them until she fell asleep.

***

Morning dawned with no sign of any returning warriors. Not even the first wounded. The Great Hall was quiet.

The long tables had been pushed against the walls and rows of beds set up in their place. Thora had seated herself at the entrance of the Hall, ready to divide the patients based on the seriousness of their injuries. Stiorra went over to join her.

“I thought you’d gone to the battle,” she inquired. Thora was a shield-maiden and warrior like her husband. Battle was where she should be.

She turned, revealing the slight swell of her belly.

“Drifa will not let me,” she replied. “This is the closest I can get to the battle.”

Stiorra sat by her side, waiting.

“Is it hard?” she asked, breaking the long silence. “Waiting for news of the battle?”

Thora sighed. “Sometimes, but I know Hæfnir will come back, He always does. Usually covered in blood and looking for a hump,” she giggled.

At that moment, Gudrid came running up to the table.

“Is there any news of Siggy yet?” she pleaded.

“Not yet,” Stiorra sighed.

“They’ll be news soon,” Thora added.

“Should there have been something by now?”

“It’s been more than twelve hours since the warriors left. There should already be at least a few wounded.”

So, soon. Soon there would be news.

But soon never came.

Hours still passed. Stiorra tried to distract herself, playing with Alidis and Gudrid. A few others came to the Great Hall, awaiting the tidal flow of wounded, but there was nothing.

Did this mean they were all dead? Perhaps something had gone wrong, and the plan hadn’t worked. Or the Irish were further away than the scout said they were. Two miles wasn’t that far though, Stiorra could walk that distance in not even half an hour.

A wounded man limping could take an hour, perhaps?

In fact, so long passed, Thora started to quietly sob, thinking her beloved Hæfnir was dead.

Then the doors burst open. It wasn’t anyone Stiorra recognised. One man with a bleeding gash on his forehead was supporting a man with half of his leg missing.

Another came in, and another, and another. All with some horrific injury, some so bad Stiorra wondered how they would survive. Then she realised most wouldn’t.

Sigtryggr was not among the wounded. But she hadn’t seen anyone else she knew.

Thora rushed over, her dress already ruined with blood. She was carrying a small basket.

“Take this and treat those with less serious injuries,” she instructed.

“Where’s Drifa?”

“She usually keeps some behind to search for survivors and to sort through wounded on the battlefield. Sigtryggr is likely among them. He’ll come in soon enough.”

Thora’s words were somewhat comforting. It made sense that Drifa would remain, and that some would remain with her. She was too small to carry a large Dane warrior back to Dyflin, even if she was strong enough to lift two.

She went around, treating various people. Mostly smaller cuts. The men would eagerly tell her how they’d received their wounds. Enemy swords, thwacked by a shield somewhere. Some stories were less believable though.

She sat down, still laughing after one man told her how he slipped on horse shit, landing on his arse and took a dozen Irishmen with him.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” the man said, holding his hand to the gash on his cheek.

“I’m not sure you do,” she replied.

“No, I know,” he laughed. “Your Stiorra. I should’ve known. Sigtryggr doesn’t shut up about you.”

“You know Sigtryggr?”

The man guffawed. “What man here doesn’t? I’m his oldest friend, Anlaf.”

“Have you seen him?” she asked, tentatively, unsure of what he would think. Would he report everything back to Sigtryggr?

“I have not since the start of the battle. He probably stayed behind like he always does, looking in the ground for things of value, survivors and other wounded,” he said. “I’ll bet you he’ll come in here carrying three full grown men with bones sticking out and everyone will call him a hero.”

“Or he’ll bust in here carrying Drifa in his arms, and she’ll declare her love for him!” the man next to him joked.

“Shut up, Guðrøðr!” Anlaf laughed. “Drifa loves him like a friend, not like that!”

“You know people say she has a lover, Asvard,” Guðrøðr added in a hushed whisper.

“You are all bastards,” said a voice over her shoulder. She turned. Ingemar.

Thora came up behind him. “Have you seen him?” She meant Hæfnir.

“Last I saw him he was searching for someone.”

“Who?”

“Drifa told me to bring Sigbjorn back, so I didn’t hear who.”

“And Sigtryggr?” Anlaf asked. “Did you see him?”

“I didn’t.”

Stiorra immediately jumped to the worst conclusions. Was Sigtryggr hurt? Dead? Lying in a ditch waiting for the alkyries? Would they even come for him?

Then the doors burst open again.

“Clear the table!”

It was Drifa. Hæfnir and Asvard were there. And they were barely holding onto…

No.

Sigtryggr.

Stiorra did not realise she had moved until she was swiping things off the high table. There was blood all over the place. Drifa took out her knife and began to cut off his armour. And only then did she see where the blood was coming from.

A deep gash in the muscle of his stomach. Something that looked like a rib was poking out of one end.

A hand grasped onto hers. She clutched his hand desperately, as is hoping the contact would keep him there, with her, not letting him fly off to Valhalla.

And then she saw his face.

A bandage covered one side of it, clearly hiding some kind of wound. Another healer, whom Stiorra did not know the name of, pealed the covering off.

His eye was a mess. She couldn’t even tell if it was still there. A deep looking gash ran down the right side of his face, like he’d been hit with a knife.

“Stiorra,” he whispered, bringing Stiorra back to the present. He cried out again as Drifa probed the wound. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “No, no.. You have nothing-”

“I failed you.”

“How can you have failed me?” Sobs were coming now, greeting heaving sobs that made it hard to speak. She took her free hand and stroked the damp, blood-matted hair out of his face.

“I didn’t protect you from them.” The Irish.

“They didn’t hurt me. I’m safe, and you will be too.”

He would be fine, Drifa was the best healer of any of them. She would heal him, she had to.

But he was shaking his head. “No, I am to die.”

“No-”

“I can feel it.”

He raised his free hand and his fingers ghosted across her cheek, smearing her with his blood. “My knife,” he whispered.

His knife, the only thing that would grant him entry to Valhalla.

But it wasn’t time yet.

His hand slackened, the one stroking her cheek fell.

“No.”

“Get him upstairs!” Drifa’s voice seemed to be coming from a long way away.

“No,” she whimpered.

“Now!”

The only thing Stiorra could see were his closed eyes, his peaceful face. He could be sleeping. If it weren’t for the cut on his face.

His hand was tugged out of hers. He was hoisted up onto a stretcher, carried by men she couldn’t see.

She followed them up like a ghost.

The door shut in her face.

The tears that had refused to come now gushed down her face. Stiorra collapsed on the floor, sobbing into her elbows. A kind arm found its way around her, and held her.

But it wasn’t him.

***

Three days.

Three fucking days Drifa worked. She came out covered head to foot in blood.

She seemed exhausted, like she could fall any moment.

Stiorra let out a sob.

It couldn't be true. He couldn’t be…

“He’s not dead. He’ll… survive,” she said. “I’m going to sleep.”

Tears flowed fast down her face. Stiorra couldn’t be sure what she felt. Relief? Drifa said ‘survive’, not live. Did this mean he wouldn’t wake up? Or that he would, and he wouldn’t be the same?

***

Drifa didn’t return from her slumber for a further two days. Thora had taken over Sigtryggr’s care and had not let anyone in so far.

Stiorra sat in the Great Hall surrounded by a few of her friends and Sigtryggr’s, Anlaf and Guðrøðr.

“He’ll pull through,” Analf said, in an attempted gesture of comfort. “He’s pulled through far worse than this.”

“I hope you don’t mean the pig,” Guðrøðr joked.

“Aye, I mean the pig.” Anlaf started laughing then. “The fucking pig,” he spluttered.

He saw Stiorra’s confused face.

“You wouldn’t believe what Sigtryggr was like once. And it was only a few years back.”

Guðrøðr nodded. “Aye, he used to bed any woman within fifty feet of him, provided they let him, of course.”

“And when they wouldn’t,” Analf supplied, “he would do everything in his power to seduce them.”

“And then again, they were usually married.”

Stiorra shook her head. “You’re making him sound like Hæfnir,” she accused.

“But he was like that once,” Anlaf said.

“We all were.”

Drifa joined them at that point, finally having woken from her long slumber.

“I remember the incident well myself,” she began. “You remember the Butt Story.” Stiorra nodded. “Well, it was a few days after that. He ended up with at least three women in his bed. I walked in there and they were all sleeping. I woke up the girls, then with the help of my good friends, we picked him up and dumped him with the pigs.”

“Naked,” Anlaf finished.

The table burst into laughter. It was hard to believe Sigtryggr being anything like that. He always seemed so…

“Like Aethelred,” Ingemar added. “You remember what Erik did.”

“I do, and I enjoyed it,” Drifa said, finishing her drink. “Pig’s arse.”

Anlaf turned to Stiorra. “There is much you don’t know about him, he’s never always been the upright, honest, kind and gentle man you know now.”

Drifa shook her head. “He’s been many things. An idiot, certainly. A drunk, a womaniser. But he doesn’t unnecessarily kill or rape.”

“Well, there was still, what’s-her-name?” Guðrøðr mentioned, struggling to remember. “The first one.”

The change in mood was immediate. Anlaf and Drifa sat up.

“We don’t talk about that,” Anlaf said.

“I know.”

“We all swore an oath,” Drifa said shortly. “ And no, I don’t know anything.”

“I thought you kept up with everything,” Anlaf asked.

“Sigtryggr doesn’t want to know, therefore I don’t ask,” Drifa said by way of answer. “He wanted it to be left in the past for now. One day he’ll see for himself,” she finished, ending the conversation.

So, Sigtryggr had secrets. It was no surprise. But something so serious, an oath had to be sworn? Whatever it was, it had to be terrible. Drifa didn’t swear oaths over nothing.

The remainder of the evening was spent reminiscing about him. It was as if he was already dead.

No, don’t think that. He could still live. He could wake up.

He has to. It’s not his time yet.

#the last kingdom #tlk fics #sigtryggr #stiorra

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cangrellesteponme · 1 year

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Today's Imagined Scenario is brought to you by.. My Brain. Just my brain, that's it. No inspo outside-

Ciel and Finny are just looking for fun indie games maybe on Switch or something to get into.. And notice a cute 2d game with cartoony black and white skeletons and other creatures.

Ciel decides to ask friends on messenger and twitter: "hey is Undertale still a good game in 2023 for anyone whose never checked out that type of RPG game?"

NekoBlueDragon (LAU) retweets with:

Ciel replies: Wtf Lau

And then Mey immediately jumps on with:

Again Ciel is like: Omg I knew it was popular for a while but WHAT are we getting into???

I'd go on with more but I can't think up specifics but I'm sure there's more like Soma and maybe Siggy almost spoiling it for them and overall them all trying to come by in person to WATCH XD

lmaooo that would be amazing

soma probably still has trauma from trying to do a genocide run (he stopped after papyrus. simply could not keep going. did a pacifist run right after.) so he's like "dON'T THIS GAME WILL BREAK YOUR HEART"

ofc sieglinde has played the game like thirty times and cannOT keep the spoilers in. must talk about the special interest.

anyway yes everyone will try to show up and backseat the hell out of ciel and finny's first playthrough. they try to stay quiet but once they see ciel just rip the controller out of finny's hands to just kill toriel and get it over with so they can move on, MULTIPLE people are shouting a bunch of very different stuff. it's pure chaos.

#ngl lau's username being NekoBlueDragon took me out #i am deceased #ota's ask answers #kuroshitsuji

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notjustjavierpena · 1 month

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How did reader reveal that she was pregnant with Lucas?

Bun (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This might be heavily influenced by a TikTok that I watched months ago. I hope you like it. It seemed to fit a first-time-pregnant couple.

Summary: You do a pregnancy reveal for Javier!

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic fluff, pregnancy reveal, hugs and kisses, Javi is a himbo, reader is a MILF

Word count: 700

Bun

“How bad is it? Is it very bad?” You ask, peeking over Javier’s shoulder and into the oven. It’s a miracle that the smoke detector has not gone off because a tiny cloud has just emerged from your oven.

“Honey,” Javier sighs dramatically. He has oven mittens on, pulling out a rack from the oven whilst you are giggling, “I love you so much but why would you make a single roll? How did you even measure the ingredients?”

He places the rack on top of the stove. On the baking sheet lies a single bun, black from charcoal as you have accidentally forgotten about it in your excitement to tell your secret. You roll your eyes but cannot stop smiling. You know something he does not, “It’s not a roll, it’s a bun.”

Javier pulls off the oven mitts and hangs them in their usual spot on a hook on the wall, furrowing his brow, “Okay?”

“What did you just pull out of the oven?” You say. You really thought that he was going to get there sooner.

“A burnt roll,” he replies with slight exasperation.

“Noooo,” you laugh at his obliviousness, “It’s still not a roll. It’s a bun.”

“Fine,” he shakes his head, “A burnt bun then.”

“It’s a bun,” you try to spell it out for him, “… In the oven.”

“Uh-huh? Yeah?” He narrows his eyes in confusion.

“We have a bun in the oven,” you smirk.

“I just pulled it out,” he argues.

You run a hand over your face, and then you start laughing loudly but it only seems to annoy your husband. If he only knew that you want to make a joke about pulling out being too little too late.

“What? Why are you laughing?” He is starting to lose patience with you.

“Javi,” you say his name sweetly when you finally start to calm down, “We’re having a baby.”

The sentence’s meaning takes a moment for him to process but suddenly, his eyebrows rise up into his hair. He looks much younger now, mouth falling open in amazement and awe, “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

“I took a pregnancy test while you were at work,” you giggle as he practically launches himself in your direction. He picks you up from the floor when he hugs you, causing a squeak to leave you, “And then I took two more. They’re all positive.”

“You are joking!” He gapes at you when he places you back down on the floor, mood changing incredibly quickly between surprised, happy, and suspicious. You nod and he runs both hands through his hair, “Are you sure?”

“I’m not joking, and actually I’m positive,” your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming due to happiness and Javier laughs genuinely at your silly joke. You know it’s only been eight weeks but this just feels so right, and you will confirm it at the doctor’s next week.

“Oh, mi amor. ¡Qué fantástico! (Oh, my love. How fantastic)!” His kiss takes you by surprise but you hold onto his wrists as he cups your face and melt against him, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you bask in your happiness and love when you pull away, bump your noses together, “Now we’ll just have to hope they take after me. Otherwise, we’re in for some serious trouble.”

“Ay,” he tuts as he kisses you a few times more. You pull his hands from your face and wrap his arms around your waist. He hugs you close to his chest, “These strong genes are sure to give you a Peña clone.”

“Alright, Peña,” you giggle into his shoulder, “We get it.”

“It’s really ‘we’ now, huh?” He talks into your ear.

“It was always we. As in I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby,” you say dreamily, “I’ll be a mom.”

“You’ll be a MILF,” he snickers when you pull back to glare at him. You slap his chest.

“Not in front of the b-a-b-y,” you say with fake outrage.

“A M-I-L-F then,” he jokes back.

“You’re incorrigible,” you lean back into his embrace.

He puts his arms around you even tighter, talking against your cheek, “I never know how to behave accordingly around you, Momma.”

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics s AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

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randomnameless · 8 months

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You weren't being and rude, and thanks for answering my posts. I really appreciate it. :) Yeah the take is rancid and is probably the worst if not one of the worst takes I've seen in a fandom.

no pbs :)

I've received a long ask (3,7k words, 6 Word pages!!) giving arguments as to why Supreme Leader's issue with Nabateans is nothing like good old specism but more deep and complicated, but I think I will need a lot of herbal tea to digest it this week-end.

I still suspect it's 3k of "spread jam"* to explain why "You are a Nabatean, you cannot have power over Humans" is justified because Nabateans are inherently BaD, but maybe I'll be proven wrong!

Stay tuned!

*in French we have a saying going "la connaissance, c'est comme la confiture, moins t'en as, plus t'étales" which roughly means knowledge is like jam, the less you have, the more you spread it, with the result that your spread is very thin, so at one point, people can see the bullshit through.

#anon #replies #of course no one ever used the jam expression for me i was a totally very studious student :)#i still think there's a difference between a shit take like idk Siggy should be Julia's dad #it's imo wrong and misunderstands the characters involved but why not have fun with your hcs #and the 'i repeat irl political arguments that were/are used to treat like subhumans some people'#some people said it before #but no one hates supreme leader more than the supreme leader stans #fandom woes

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archmagerykarr · 2 years

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How has your experience been playing FFXIV? Did you like the classes, the characters around the story, and the story?

I had a very lengthy reply planned but I don't wanna bore you with an essay. I don't have a lot of kind things to say though, so I'll keep those thoughts mostly to myself. The real Mr. Hornyfang, who is a staunch supporter of XIV, is frequently annoyed by my constant complaining about the game. He takes it like a champ, at least.

From my time spent with XIV (and I've had an account since ARR's closed beta back in 2013), it is my very personal opinion that the game is basically like a Second Life 2.0. If you're looking for that kind of casual gameplay with a heavy emphasis on social interactions with others, XIV is 110% your game.

If you're looking for an actual game to play...well, XIV just isn't really my cup of tea there. Across the board, in every aspect. I feel like a lot of their most evangelical fans just aren't honest with themselves about the game's many numerous and real flaws. Some are just flat out delusional and hopelessly drinking the kool-aid.

Once my sub ends for XIV this month, I'll probably be hanging out in ESO with Siggy. ESO seems to have dodged many of the pitfalls and issues that I have with XIV, but nothing will ever be quite like WoW. Even in its sorry state.

Which is why I'll be back for Dragonflight. I will never give up on WoW, though I've long since given up on the actual company.

#ama

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roleplayacc2020-blog · 4 months

Text

The Big Dc Request Thread!

Hello all! I hope anyone and everyone reading this is having a good day in our crazy reality. Below you can find a little about me, my writing style, and how I approach writing. Feel free to peruse, and if you think we'd be a good match, let me know!

You can call me T! I go by he/him pronouns. I prefer Discord (Or Here) as the platform we write on, and my availability is at least once a week and more. I'm always open to communicating with my partners and letting them reply when possible. I typically aim for 200-300 words in a reply. I usually don't go lower than two hundred. Unless it's more of a back of forth dialogue type thing. Details are super important to me from my partner, so I do my best to give them myself.

I run my replies through Grammarly before I post them (including these request posts!), so at the very least, I hope my post is grammatically correct (*chuckle*). I write in the third person/past tense style and ask that my partner does the same; this is a requirement for writing with me. What I look for regarding my partner is someone that gets invested in a story, likes putting details in, and is open to the idea of adult themes and content enhancing a story and romance and not being a detriment to the work. I enjoy writing erotica and feel it enhances the narrative.

I'm looking for someone who feels the same way. In return, I put a lot into my stories and ideas to make them as thrilling and engaging as possible.

I can't stress that enough. I'm looking for partners interested in crafting a long-term story, world-building, and don't shy away from the adult aspects.I put a lot of work into my writing, and this is both a hobby and a passion for me. Even if I primarily do fandom writing, these characters are significant to me. If you're the type to ghost more often than not, please think twice about messaging me and wasting my time.

Please note this story will have adult content and be NSFW. I don't do Fade To black and I do want romance in these stories.

All Characters Are Eighteen Years Of Age Or Older

-__-

Popular Pairings

Bruce Wayne (Batman)/Selina Kyle (Cat Woman)

Dick Grayson (Robin/Nightwing)/Koriand’r (Starfire)

Dick Grayson (Robin/Nightwing)/Barbara Gordon (Batgirl/Oracle)

Clark Kent (Superman)/Lois Lane

Olliver Queen (Green Arrow)/Dinah Lance (Black Canary)

Siggy/Diana Prince (Wonder Woman)

Steve Trevor/Diana Prince (Wonder Woman)

Barry Allen (the Flash)/Iris West

Arthur Curry (Aquaman)/Mera Of Xebel

Hal Jordan (Green Lantern)/Carol Ferris (Star Sapphire)

Shiera Hall (Hawkgirl)/Carter (Hawkman)

Garfield Logan (Beast Boy)/Rachel Roth (Raven)

Joker/Harley Quinn

Constantine/Zatanna

Lesser Known

Roy Harper/Jade Nguyen (Cheshire)

Bruce Wayne (Batman)/Talia Al Ghul

Roy Harper/Donna Troy (Wonder Girl/Troia)

Wally West (Kid Flash/The Flash)/Artemis Crock

Scott Free (Mr. Miracle)/Big Barda

Tim Drake (Robin/Red Robin)/Stephanie Brown (Batgirl/Spoiler)

Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle)/Traci Thirteen

Wild Cards

Jon Kent (Superboy/Superman)/Mary Marvel (Shazam)

Bruce Wayne (Batman)/Harley Quinn

Waylon (Killer Croc)/June (Enchantress)

Kate Kane (Bat Woman)/Renee Montoya (The Question)

Kyle Rayner (Green Lantern)/Soranik Natu (Green Lantern)

Ted Grant (Wildcat)/Hippolyta

David Cain/Sandra Wu-San (Lady Shiva)

Teth-Adam (Black Atom)/Isis

Knockout/Scandal

Rex (Metamorpho)/Sapphire Stagg

Tatsu Yamashiro(Katana)/Jefferson

Question/Helena Wayne Or Bertinelli (Huntress)

Adam Strange/Alanna

Emiko (Red Arrow)/Damian Wayne-Al Ghul (Robin)

Doctor Freeze/Nora

Kent Nelson (Doctor Fate)/Inza

Kara Kent-Danvers (Supergirl)/Querl Dox (Braniac Five)

Billy Bastion (Shazam)/Courtney Whitmore (Stargirl)

Nathaniel Adam (Captain Atom)/Bette Souci (Plastique)

Leonard Snart (Captain Cold)/ Lisa Snart (Golden Glider) [Incest]

Hank Hall (Hawk)/Dawn Granger (Dove)

Ronnie Raymond (Firestorm)/ Caitlin Snow (Killer Frost)

John Stewart (Green Lantern)/Mari Jiwe McCabe (Vixen)

Guy Gardner (Green Lantern)/Tora Olafsdotter (Ice)

Clark Kent (Superman)/Maxima

Jason Todd (Red Hood)/Artemis (Amazon)

Cisco Ramone (Vibe)/Cynthia (Gypsy)

Pamela Isley (Poison Ivy)/Alec Holland (Swamp Thing)

Genderbends

Fem Lex Luthor/Clark Kent (Superman)

Fem Clark (Super Woman)/Lex Luthor

Fem Bruce Wayne (Batman)/Clark Kent (Superman)

Fem Clark Kent (Superwoman)/Bruce Wayne (Batman)

Ted Kord (Blue Beetle)/Fem Micheal Carter (Booster Gold)

Micheal Carter (Booster Gold)/ Fem Ted Kord (Blue Beetle)

Open Pairings (No Specific Person)

Vic Stone (Cyborg)/Open

John Henry Irons (Steel)/Open

Nubia (Wonder Woman)/Open

Leonard Snart (Captain Cold)/Open

Komand’r (Blackfire)/Open

Kara Danvers (Power Girl)/Open

Pamela Isley (Poison Ivy)/Open

M’Gann M’orzz (Miss Martian)/Open

Cassandra Cain (Batgirl)/Open

Floyd Lawton (Deadshot)/Open

Digger Harkness (Captain Boomerang)/Open

J’onn J’onzz (Martian Manhunter)/Open

Jason Todd (Red Hood)/Open

Jim Gordon (Batman)/Open

Beatriz da Costa (Fire)/Open

Ronnie Raymond (Firestorm)/Open

Jessica Cruz (Green Lantern)/Open

Eel O'Brian (Plastic Man)/Open

Natasha Irons (Steel 2)/Open

#18+ content #roleplay ad #roleplay request #rprequest #1x1 roleplay #discord rp #rp request #canon rp #dc roleplay #canon x canon

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breitzbachbea · 5 months

Text

Drabble #84

Opposites attract and nothing show that more than clashing magnets finding each other as soon as they return. Or - Magnús walking into hell while Freyja, walking first, gently holds his hand. (These two belong to my beloved @swabianmapley )

Drabble Collection on Ao3 Ship: SigFrey

“Oho, pretty lady, where are you going at this hour?” Magnús asked, his hand still on the key.

Freyja rolled her eyes, but the sated smile on her face never waned.

“Into bed, big boy,” she said, clung to his arm and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. Magnús chuckled and took the hand from the key to put his arm around her instead.

With the other, he turned the key and pushed the door open. Freyja’s hand found his arm again.

The two stumbled into their hotel room. The door was closed with more force than expected and louder than perhaps welcome at the time.

“Seems like you had a fun night out,” Magnús said. He was glad to be back with her after their group of Irishmen and Scots had split.

“The funnest. What about you?”

“It was alright.”

Freyja swung around to stand in front of him and let go of his arm. Despite her slight stagger, she was steady on her feet. “Would have rather that we stayed back in Reykjavík?”

Her gall, her good-natured taunt, amplified by the alcohol in her veins. He smiled, much softer than her grin.

“I didn’t say it was bad,” he answered. He turned as he got out of his jacket. “I got invited to a whiskey tasting.” He opened the closet.

“Oh, did you now?” Freyja asked and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw her curious and elated smile, her eyebrows arched.

“Mhm.” He hung up the jacket. “Well, they’ve planned a whiskey tasting in front of m.” When he turned around to Freyja and closed the door behind him, her excitement was less radiant and she had crossed her arms in front of her. “They talked about it like a big event, with everyone involved. Told me to tell Emil about it.”

“Oh, great! So, we’ve been invited to a whiskey tasting.” She let herself fall onto the bed and untied her boots.

“If anything even comes of it and it wasn’t just a wet idea…” Magnús sat down on the arm chair to remove his shoes.

“I think it sounds fun! I’m sure Emil will love it!” Magnús cocked an eyebrow and waited, until Freyja looked at him. “Come on, Siggi, it’s basically like the get-together after the sheep and horses returned from the mountains. He’s comfortable at those.”

“Those don’t have insane people. I’m pretty sure this is going to end in chaos, something he is decidedly less comfortable around.”

Freyja threw her boots to the side and waved her hand. “He’s been doing fine on his family weekend with Chun and Fen in the Icelandic wilderness so far, he can handle a little drama.” She shrugged. “Also, remember that time the Danish were over for the sheep and horse handling?”

Freyja caught a glimpse of Magnús’ face and burst into laughter. He hadn’t unhunched his shoulders yet, although the pure rage and repulsion had been replaced by a thoroughly miffed stare into space. “Regrettably so.” Every time Jóhann asked about Frej and if he wouldn’t want to come again next year, admiration and a little bit of excitement in his voice, it was hard to grin and bear it.

Freyja had fallen onto her back and held her stomach. Once she stopped laughing, she went limp and sighed. She fumbled with her belt, opened it and unzipped her pants.

However, she struggled to strip out of them.

“Do you need help?” he asked.

“Yeah, if you could pull from the bottom, that’d be great.” She pulled her pants off with little struggle. “Thanks, sweetheart – Oh my god, you’re such a square.” She laughed again as he folded her pants to put them away.

“Your square,” he replied and put her pants on a chair. “Looking out for you.”

She crossed her arms behind her head and he avoided to look at her naked legs. “I know. You don’t have to be at attention every possible moment though. Like, I know. Yes. That comes free with this life, but .. the whiskey tasting sounds nice.”

“With normal people it would, I’m sure.” She shrugged. She still had to take her piercings out. “Like, danger aside, people like those aren’t exactly the company I’d choose for a fun evening.”

“Normal-Schmormal. You chose me, didn’t you?” She smiled at him. It wasn’t beaming, it wasn’t smirking, but it radiated kindness that seeped right through his skin into his heart. “You love my weirdness. You followed it all the way into hell.” Gratitude. Apologies written in her eyes.

“I … yes … I mean …” He was at a loss for words. Instead, he got onto the bed, laid beside her and took her hand. As they gazed into each other’s eyes, their fingers intertwined.

#storie nostre #jani #beablabbers #siggi #freyja #sigfrey #listened to a walk through hell by say anything to finish this <3 #that is why i loooove that ship it's just so. freyja did this for emil and it is not worth it but that is her emil.#and magnús is doing this for freyja and it is not worth it but it's his freyja and her emil and so it will be done #magnús is this planet's number one women's wrong supporter. sure he will bitch and moan but he will never waver #drabble #the pen is mightier than the sword

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bad-at-names-and-faces · 7 months

Text

Mother Knows Best

ao3

ffn

chapter index

Henry gazed out over the water. Somewhere in the distance he could see a hint of land, hazy on the horizon, but it wasn’t Arendelle, and they weren’t yet near Corona. They had left Arendelle the morning before, a few days after Inga’s eighteenth birthday. They hadn’t set a date for the wedding yet, and the council did not exactly object, but they would hold off on officially approving the engagement until they had a written proclamation from Henry’s grandfather, the king. After all, it would be a political union, and had the potential to result in a personal union of the two countries, and there would be many things to work out even after they could officially be considered engaged.

As they had been standing on the dock saying their goodbyes, he had whispered to Inga just to elope with him and get married in Corona. She reminded him that he needed the official approval just as much as she did; it would technically be an act of war if he took her back to Corona without her parents’ explicit permission. They laughed about that, but she was correct. And if he didn’t have permission? He had never thought to ask what would happen to himself if he dared try such a thing.

He went down to his cabin and opened up his travel chest. Off to the side, carefully placed in one of his sketchbooks, was the photo of Inga’s family that he had been using for most of his models. He now had many more sketches of her that he had made in Arendelle, but he still liked looking at the photo. It included her entire family, with Inga holding her baby sister, just like he had seen her do when he had visited Arendelle the previous fall. He enjoyed the family. There was a beautiful chaos in all they did.

August 22nd, 1865

Dear Henry,

I hope the good weather your ship has been having continues. I’m not sure how I’d manage on a stormy sailing, but I think I told you how terrible the voyage was for me last summer. It was worth it, and I wouldn’t change a thing, but I don’t handle the sea very well.

I’m sure Frederick spent plenty of time talking your ear off about the Navy last week. He’s definitely looking forward to attending the Naval Academy in Corona next year. Even if we can’t schedule the wedding any sooner than next summer, I’ll at least have twice as many excuses to visit Corona.

I do hope you can send your grandfather’s approval soon. Perhaps the Council here will let us hurry up the wedding then. My mother is rather hesitant about going around the council, even for her own family. I suppose I can understand, but I still wish we could be like anyone else and just run off and get married, and not worry about politics.

I’ll write more later today. I promised a friend in town that I would visit her this afternoon. Actually, you met her husband--he’s the captain of the castle guard. He’s been a friend of the family’s since, well, before any of us were born. Isabel, his wife, has been forced to stay home mostly, not even allowed to so much as get up to make a kettle of tea right now. Her maid is there, but that’s not always enough company, especially when the maid has so much work. But, as I said, I’ll write more later. Let me know how your voyage is going!

Love,

Inga

Inga released her letter into the air from a quiet corner of the castle garden, thanking the wind spirit, then going on her way. As she crossed the bridge into town, she saw Frederick standing by the low wall with his friends from the naval training voyage. She nodded and smiled in their general direction, not wanting to be drawn into their conversation. Frederick sometimes tried to do that.

“Where are you heading, Inga?” Frederick called over.

“Just visiting Isabel,” she replied, hardly slowing down. “I’ll see you later!”

“I might come by with Siggy when he leaves his post for lunch, then!” Frederick called, then went right back to talking with the other boys from the navy.

Inga walked on into the market square, contemplating the produce in the stalls, wondering if she wanted anything before she went over to visit Isabel. Since it was the end of August, the offerings were getting more plentiful. She would need to check in with her mother about planning the harvest festival soon.

As she walked along, she thought more of the time the fall before when she had unexpectedly run into Henry in the market than of the food around her at the moment.

It had been a week since her birthday, and only a few days since Henry had boarded the ship returning to Corona. They had decided to make the best of however long they would have to wait to make wedding plans. Henry had apologized profusely for not having things more ready. He had thought too much about romantic gestures, and not enough about the politics or laws.

Inga had been lost in her thoughts, and found herself outside Isabel and Siggy’s house already. She knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Isabel called from inside.

“Hello,” Inga said as she pushed the door open and walked inside.

She saw Isabel sitting on the sofa near the window with a small plate of crackers.

“Please tell me you have more breakfast than that!” Inga exclaimed.

Isabel smiled a little. “I don’t have the appetite for much more than this at the moment. The doctor has me eating crackers and broth since they don’t make me ill.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Inga said.

“Well, you’re here to distract me now. Tell me all about this engagement of yours.”

“Shh!” Inga hissed, quickly smiling again. “It’s not official. According to the Royal Council, he’s only courting me.”

Isabel laughed. “That’s ridiculous. What do your parents say?”

“They do think we’re a bit young, and we have their blessing, but we need to wait for full approval of the council. So we have to wait.”

“How long do you need to wait?”

“Well, we can’t even tell people that we’re engaged until Henry returns with a signed proclamation from his grandfather. And only then can we start planning a wedding. My mother suggested next summer, which is such a long time.”

“Siggy and I had to wait until I was twenty-one. It wasn’t so bad, I promise you,” Isabel insisted. “It went by so quickly in the end. I’m sure you can’t believe it now.”

“I’m sorry, yes, of course,” Inga apologized. She knew very well that Isabel had been engaged for well over a year when she finally got married. “I do wish it would count if Henry and I had just run off to see the trolls.”

“Really?” Isabel giggled.

“I suppose not. My parents were able to do that with everyone right there. It would feel different if we were sneaking off behind everyone’s backs.”

“Of course,” Isabel agreed.

“And even my mother couldn’t change the law to make that wedding official.”

“Didn’t your aunt change that law in the first place?” Isabel asked.

Inga nodded. “Let’s not dwell on the reasons for that.”

“Of course,” Isabel replied seriously.

Inga knew why her aunt had changed the law, though her family were the only people it applied to. All sorts of weddings went on in Arendelle, and nobody cared if they were legally sanctioned unless there was a question of royal succession involved.

Only a year before, Inga had assumed the change had been made for the reasons everyone else, including Isabel, also assumed: that with no other heirs, if her mother had died, the laws of the time allowed private vows to count as a marriage, and with no other direct heirs, as husband Prince Hans would take the throne. Her mother’s assertion that no private ceremony had taken place was enough to deny the claim.

What nobody else had known was that there was, in fact, a potential heir, who could claim the throne if he could be considered legitimate. Lars wasn’t legitimate, but that was why it was also important to declare all weddings illegitimate for purposes of the succession, other than those performed by the Bishop. Inga knew very well that the trolls had come close to marrying her parents before anything else, but someone who knew about Lars could have used that to claim his legitimacy. It didn’t matter who the child’s father really was.

Inga supposed, after all of this, it made sense that her mother was so insistent on following the rules to the letter. Perhaps it might be best to let her mother plan the wedding for the following summer. It was a year. Isabel and Siggy had been engaged for more than two years before they got married. Who was she to complain about waiting a few more months?

Inga caught herself staring out the window, taking in the view of the fjord below. Isabel was still in her chair, simply sitting, smiling, and enjoying simply having another person aside from her maid in the room.

Isabel's maid walked in offering tea. Both she and Inga happily accepted.

“So, now, Inga,” Isabel said, having had a sip of the tea, “do you have plans to travel to Corona?”

Inga had certainly given the question plenty of thought, and yet she didn’t have a ready answer. “I suppose I’ll want to visit Frederick at the Naval Academy, and I can do that as many times as I like, even if I’m not officially engaged.”

Isabel smiled knowingly and gave a nod. “Yes, I understand.”

“Oh,” Inga said, blushing with the realization that she’d allowed herself to ramble on.

“We had a rather long engagement,” Isabel smiled over her teacup. “You find excuses.”

“Of course,” Inga replied, not asking some of the questions in her mind.

“Has Frederick passed his entrance exam, then?” Isabel asked, obviously sensing that it would be a safer subject for Inga to discuss.

“I think he told me the exam was going to take place in a few weeks. Their Admiral will be visiting, so he and the other boys from the training mission will take the exam then,” Inga explained. “I’m sure Frederick won’t have any difficulty, though. As much as he thinks he might have trouble, I don’t think he will.”

“I’m not surprised. Meibel has been telling me about that when she visits, but it’s hard to keep track of her stories and gossip sometimes. That reminds me, at your party, Kate and Edith both were rather fond of Frederick’s friend from the Navy, Jorgensen? I think that was his name, but he never came over to our corner of the courtyard when Frederick did.”

“Ah, yes,” Inga laughed, “I’ve heard about him.”

“They weren’t able to get his first name, and they don’t want to ask directly, so I thought I might help them out by asking you.”

“You’re asking me Jorgensen’s first name?” Inga laughed. “I wish I could tell you. I’m not even sure that Frederick could tell you. Jorgensen seems perfectly nice, of course.”

Before Isabel could reply, there was a familiar knock at the door. Inga got up to open the door, and Frederick was there, along with Isabel’s husband, Captain Olsen.

“Good afternoon,” Inga smiled, letting them in.

“Your Highness,” Captain Olsen teased.

“Is that how you greeted my brother, too?” she shot back.

“Of course not,” Frederick snorted.

“We were just talking about you, Frederick,” Isabel said. “I hear you have your examination soon.”

Frederick suddenly looked nervous. “Yes, that’s true.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Inga insisted.

Frederick shrugged. “Everyone says that.”

“Probably because it’s true,” Inga assured him. “I know I’ve teased you a lot, but I don’t think they’ll be testing the details of Latin grammar, will they?”

“No, no, they won’t,” Frederick laughed. “Does anyone actually use Latin?”

Inga glared. “It has its uses.”

“Yes, yes, that one Count still does, I know,” Frederick sighed. “Who’s going to write to him when you move to Corona?”

Inga paused. “I suppose the tutor can take over writing letters. Or Mother can remember what she used to know.”

The maid had served Isabel’s husband and Frederick some tea. The four sat quietly for a few minutes.

“So, Inga, did you have lunch yet?” Frederick asked.

“I think I had a cookie with the tea. I’m fine, really.”

“Inga,” Isabel cut in, “don’t skip a meal just because I’m barely eating. You and Frederick go to Hudson’s and have a nice lunch. You were going to come visit again Thursday, right?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Frederick agreed. “Siggy, you’re off for the whole afternoon, right?”

“Yes,” the Captain affirmed.

“Since you insist,” Inga said, getting up. “Have a nice afternoon!”

Frederick and Inga walked back down toward the market square.

Frederick smirked a little.

“You’re thinking about something,” Inga told him, “tell me.”

“Just wondering if you’ve written to Henry yet today.”

“Just a short note,” Inga insisted.

“How is Henry at handling sea voyages?”

“Better than I am,” Inga said, “and when he and Hilde were traveling last year, I don’t think either of them had any trouble.”

“Well, that’s good at least,” Frederick said. “You’re going to have to get used to it, you know.”

“Please, don’t remind me.”

Inga sighed; as much as she wanted to marry Henry sooner rather than later, the reality that she would need to be the one to move to Corona was starting to hit her. Henry was, after all, the next in line after his mother for the throne. They would certainly expect him to stay around, aside from occasional travel. Ignoring this question wouldn’t make it go away. Waiting a year would be good for figuring out those details.

They arrived at Hudson’s Hearth faster than Inga had expected, having been so caught up in her thoughts yet again.

“So,” Frederick said as they sat down, “when do you think the wedding will be?”

"I hope next summer. I don't want to wait more than that."

"But isn't there a lot to plan?" Frederick asked.

"I suppose it is, and lots of people will want to have a say, of course. I'm going to let them have their say, I think."

"Really?"

“Well, maybe not the ones insisting on a bedding ceremony.”

“They still do those?”

“Supposedly, some of the neighboring kingdoms have. I don’t think they’ve done any here in probably seventy or eighty years. Because who wants that?”

“Apparently some of the older council members. But joking aside, don’t you want a say in your own wedding?”

"Frederick, I don't care that much about the wedding itself, as long as it happens, and as long as it’s not delayed too much."

"Then why didn't you two run off to see the trolls?” Frederick gave her a look like he suspected something. “Or did you?"

Inga laughed. "No, though I almost wish we had."

"Would that have helped?"

"I can't exactly run off to Corona to get married without a major international scandal, but if we could prove we were already married, they wouldn't want to undo that."

"You have a point," Frederick conceded.

***

Anna had been traveling for several months now, along with Elsa and the Crown Princess Rapunzel of Corona. They were the only two who knew of the real reason for the tour of foreign kingdoms. They would stay a few weeks at each place, never long enough for anyone to notice that Anna’s dresses needed letting out, or that the new ones she bought were always of a more forgiving cut than the previous dresses. She was a princess, and princesses got new dresses made all the time. Also, no official portraits had been sent out for thirteen years. Everyone simply assumed that the young queen’s sister might naturally be stout. Many royalty were, after all.

Anna wished they didn’t need to keep moving like they were. The sea didn’t agree with her.

“Can’t you make the waves stop?” Anna pleaded with her sister.

“I can’t just freeze the ocean, Anna,” Elsa sighed, rubbing her back.

Now they were heading for Corona, Rapunzel’s own kingdom. Anna was unsure of how long they might stay in the capital, but Rapunzel had promised that she would have a remote house ready as soon as they might require it.

Anna had asked Rapunzel what she had told her husband, and Rapunzel had assured her that she hadn’t told him anything. He had been left behind in Arendelle, and was going to keep Kristoff company. It was better, for now, if fewer people knew.

***

“I feel bad that Henry had to go to Arendelle alone,” Rapunzel sighed over breakfast. “I know Hilde had agreed to go to that other wedding, but we could have gone with him.”

“I think we know very well why he was going,” Eugene laughed, “and I don’t think he’ll need our help.”

“Eugene, you know what I mean,” she retorted.

“No, not really.”

“Well, he was going to be expected to attend all sorts of official functions while he was there. If we were there, I don’t know, we could have let him just be there for fun.”

“We’re talking about Henry. What do you think he’ll need so much extra time for? You’ve heard James talk about him.”

“You know he’s been writing to her,” Rapunzel reminded him.

“Yes, of course. He does seem to be serious about her. Whether it’s a good idea is another matter.”

“She’s a nice girl, and her family is nice,” Rapunzel insisted.

“I know, but Henry is so young. Do you really think it’s a good idea?”

“Hilde is supposed to get home tomorrow, maybe we should ask her what she thinks about this,” Rapunzel suggested.

“Or what she knows.”

***

Hilde joined her parents for tea on the terrace at the palace in Corona. She had attended the wedding of the sister of the Duke of Bielsko, reacquainting herself with several people she had met before, and meeting some new faces whom she hadn’t crossed paths with before. All in all, she considered it a successful trip.

“Hilde,” her mother began, “I was wondering…”

“Yes?” she replied, not sure what her mother had in mind to ask her. She wasn’t hiding anything about her trip, but some parts weren’t particularly interesting.

“It’s just, it’s about your brother.”

“Oh,” Hilde laughed. “What about Henry?”

“How serious do you think he is about Inga?”

Hilde thought a moment about her response, since she had promised Henry to keep his secret, but she couldn’t lie to her parents. “I think he’s pretty serious. He wrote to her a lot on our tour, you know.”

“Really?” her mother asked.

“And gifts. He sent her something from nearly every port we stopped at.”

“I suppose we should invite her to visit Corona, then.”

“I’m sure they’d both like that,” Hilde smiled. She had told the truth, but also kept her word to Henry.

***

August 25th, 1865

Dear Henry,

I wish I could see you for your birthday this year. I know I told you that last week when you left Arendelle. It's still true. Part of me wishes I'd come with you and eloped in Corona, even though I’m sure you were joking, weren’t you?

I'm sure the time will go by quickly, but it feels harder to wait now than it did before you arrived in Arendelle. It’s been a week since my birthday, but it feels like longer.

If I can’t visit Corona right away, I hope you find a way to visit again soon. I hope you can come here for the Yule Bell, but perhaps another year, since it is a difficult time to travel. Perhaps you can come to the Harvest Festival? You only missed it by a few weeks last year, you know, so you should come this year.

We’ll figure something out.

Nonetheless, I miss you now.

Love,

Inga

Inga folded the letter, letting her hand linger, and giving it a kiss. She looked at her drawer, and found his photo again under the ever-growing stack of letters from him. It would have to do until she could see him again in person. She set it back in the drawer and took her letter to the window.

***

Henry stepped onto solid ground at the harbor in Corona. His parents and grandparents and sister had all come down to the docks to greet him. He hugged each of them, and Hilde gave him a knowing smirk, so he felt certain that she was still the only one here who knew about his engagement. As much as he didn’t want her telling everyone before he could, it did mean that he would need to figure out how to tell everyone.

Stopping back in his own room, took some time to write a quick note to Inga before changing out of his travel clothes.

August 28th, 1865

Dear Inga,

I made it home, and my family was all assembled at the harbor to see me, just like at the beginning of the summer when Hilde and I returned to Corona. Hilde told me, once again, her disappointment at missing your party, though she seems to have had a nice time at the estate of the Duke of Bielko.

It will be time to change for dinner soon. I still haven’t told my parents and grandparents about our engagement, and I’ll do so right this evening. I miss you terribly, and I wish I could have you at my side when I tell them, but the sooner I have their official permission, the sooner we can set a date for the wedding. Besides, it’s better not to keep things too secret. Speaking of which, after dinner tonight I’ll write you a proper letter telling you that I arrived safely in Corona.

Love,

Henry

Henry sent off the letter, then changed for dinner.

“I’m going to tell them tonight, James, and ask for the official letter.”

“I’m happy to hear that, but have you given them any hint of your plans? Your sister is, perhaps, too good at keeping secrets, I think.”

“I suppose I haven’t exactly told them in so many words.”

“Well, I wish you luck,” James said.

Henry sat nervously through the first courses of dinner, until finally, there was a lull in the conversation. He took the opportunity.

“I have some news I’ve been meaning to tell you all,” he said, looking around to make sure he was heard. Hilde smiled, trying to look like she didn’t already know exactly what he was going to say.

“Yes, Henry?” his grandfather asked him.

“I… I’m engaged.”

“You’re engaged?” his grandmother asked, looking at his parents for some kind of clue that they knew something she didn’t. His mother looked at him like she’d suspected something all along. Hilde was enjoying the whole thing.

“Well, not officially,” Henry hedged, “but I asked Inga to marry me, and she said yes.”

“Inga? Who is this Inga?” his grandfather asked.

“Grandfather, it’s the princess from Arendelle we met last year,” Hilde explained. Their grandfather grunted and nodded approvingly.

“So, not officially?” his mother asked him.

“Not quite…” Henry admitted, turning to his grandfather. “They need a letter from you, Grandfather, telling them that Corona approves of this. Then we can be officially engaged.”

“I see,” his mother replied. “Father, we’ll need to look over the laws on our side, won’t we?”

His grandfather nodded approvingly.

“And then we can plan the wedding,” Henry said. “We don’t want to wait very long.”

“How long are we talking?” his father asked him.

“I don’t know. We’ll see what we can manage. We were hoping sooner, but Inga’s mother is suggesting next summer.”

“Next summer doesn’t sound like too long to wait,” his grandmother interjected.

“Well, anyway, congratulations are in order!” his mother smiled.

His grandfather ordered a round of drinks brought in, official engagement or not, it would need to be properly celebrated.

Hilde finally got him alone the next morning at breakfast.

“So, Henry, I received your letter when I was in the middle of a picnic at the Duke of Bielko’s estate. I have no idea how I got it there, I didn’t see anyone handing it to me, but it just appeared in my hand.”

“I can explain-” Henry began.

“Never mind that, you can explain later,” Hilde interrupted. “You said in your letter that you were engaged, but I take it there’s no date set and it’s not even official?”

“No, there isn’t a date,” he admitted, “but her mother promised that we can set a date once it’s official.’

“And when will that be?” Hilde asked skeptically.

“As soon as they’ve received the letter from our grandfather, it’ll be official and we can set a date,” Henry insisted.

“I see,” Hilde chuckled. “And I’m sure once that starts, Inga is going to realize how many details she needs to plan for, and a wedding next summer will start to look optimistic?”

“I’m pretty sure Inga doesn’t want to wait, either.”

“Well, then, I suppose it’s just as well you’ll be far apart for most of the engagement.”

“What do you mean?”

“My maid heard some interesting gossip from one of the porters. For Inga's sake, I hope it's nonsense."

Henry feared that his sister could probably read his face as easily as a book right now. "What did she hear?" he asked nervously.

"Something about you entertaining some other girl, I think?” Hilde asked evasively. “I can’t imagine you actually having some girl in your room, but that’s the rumor.”

"Oh," Henry scoffed in relief, "there was a girl wearing the same dress as Inga at the party, and I accidentally asked her to dance with me, and by the time I realized it wasn’t Inga, it would have been rude not to dance. Inga thought it was funny, too."

"Thank goodness that's cleared up, then," Hilde smiled, "since the story got twisted into some story of the girl spending the night in your bed."

"What?" Henry asked in shock.

Hilde laughed. "I wouldn't worry, it was a situation where a friend of a friend of a friend overheard something in the laundry room. They said your valet was there in the laundry, but of course he would be. I can’t imagine James gossiping."

"Oh, of course," Henry said, suddenly feeling a bit warm. James had told Henry he knew very well what he had seen that morning, but he knew James wouldn’t betray his confidence. “Inga did stop by so I could give her a birthday gift without a crowd around. Someone might have seen her outside my room there.”

"I see,” Hilde hemmed. “Still, if I were you, I would just ignore them and avoid saying anything at all. If you try to explain it, people might even get the idea that someone saw Inga in your bed."

Henry looked away.

“I hope I haven’t shocked you with that idea,” Hilde chuckled. “But if you’re getting married, you know…”

“Shocked?” Henry asked, looking at his cup of coffee.

Hilde gave a bit of a smirk. “I hadn’t exactly- how shall I put this? Thought of you as particularly… worldly?”

“I suppose I wasn’t,” Henry admitted.

“Wasn’t?” Hilde set down her coffee and looked at him. “I don’t think you got up to anything on our tour. Is there anything I should know?”

Henry looked away again. He wasn’t sure he should be admitting anything, even to his sister who was good at keeping a secret. “I shouldn’t say anything,” he said.

“Are you keeping any secrets from Inga?” she asked in almost a whisper.

“Absolutely not. More like… keeping a secret for her.”

Hilde groaned. "Henry, stop right there while I can honestly still say you haven’t told me anything. I hope that you haven’t done anything too foolish, though."

Their father came in just then. Henry wondered how obvious it looked that he was hiding something, or failing to hide something. Hilde hadn't actually come out and said what she suspected, but he had the feeling she knew very well that he and Inga hadn’t been simply spending the night talking.

"Good morning you two," their father smiled at them. "This is nice. Can I join you here? You've both been gone too much."

Henry nodded, and Hilde gestured at the seat opposite where she was sitting. Henry stared at his coffee some more as his father sat down.

"Henry, what's wrong?"

Hilde spoke up. "Sorry, I think it's my fault, I brought up how long it might be before they're married."

"It's probably for the best," their father assured him, "she's barely eighteen, and you're not that much older."

"Father," Hilde grumbled, "I'm right here, so if there's one word about oats or anything like that…"

“Don’t worry, Hilde. Just promise me you won’t try to one-up your brother and run off and get married before you’re twenty.”

Hilde shook her head. “No, that’s not my plan.”

“Well, that’s good. And as far as-”

Hilde got up. "You know, this feels like it should be a man-to-man talk, so I'll leave you two alone," she smiled as she left the room.

"So, Henry," his father said after his sister had closed the door. "I suppose we might as well follow your sister’s advice?"

Henry looked up at his father. “Her advice?”

“You know, a man-to-man talk. I haven’t seen very much of you in the last year, so we should try to catch up. Ask me anything.”

“Anything?” Henry repeated.

“Well, I suppose. Or I can ask you the questions. Which would you prefer?”

“I don’t know, actually,” Henry admitted. “I mean, what does James tell you about me?”

His father looked at him in surprise. “That’s an odd question. He doesn’t tell us much of anything, and we’ve never asked him to. I suppose he’d tell us if there was anything really wrong.”

“Oh, okay,” Henry sighed in relief.

“We told him to keep an eye on you when you and your sister were on your tour. I’d be lying if I said we aren’t worried when you’re gone.”

Henry nodded and smiled. “And was Hilde’s maid keeping an eye on her?”

His father didn’t answer right away, but sought out the coffee and poured himself a cup. “I don’t mean they’re spying on you.”

“I know,” Henry replied. “James told me the same thing, that you asked him to keep an eye on me.”

“It wasn’t a secret.”

Henry nodded. He wasn’t sure where he should be drawing the line between secrets and privacy, especially when Inga was involved.

“Why don’t you tell me about what you did in Arendelle?” his father asked.

“I had a nice time,” Henry said, “though I did get stuck having dinner with the ambassador one of the nights I was there.”

“That’s a bit of an occupational hazard, of course.”

Henry smiled a bit, and tried to relax. “I did a bit of drawing while I was there.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Anything you want to share?”

“I’ll take a look to see if there’s anything that came out as well as I’d hoped,” Henry answered.

His father nodded, as if he suspected something. “So, you did some drawing, you had dinner with the ambassador, and you came home engaged. Or, well, not technically engaged, I guess?”

“Well, yes, like I said at dinner last night. Their council has rules they insist on following.”

“So, was this engagement not planned?”

Henry knew for certain now that his father suspected something, but he needed to be careful with what he said, since he might be suspecting something different.

“The engagement was planned,” Henry insisted. “I bought the ring in Portugal last spring.”

“Is that so?”

“I just didn’t think to look up Arendelle’s rules about these things.”

“Waiting a little bit will probably be good, you know. You’ll see.”

“Everyone says that,” Henry sighed.

#frozen fanfic #kristanna #OC Inga #1865 #prince of two realms

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