4 months later

I've swollen up like someone blew a balloon up in my stomach, and its awkward having to squeeze into gowns for charity events now. He says it makes me glow, the whole pregnancy thing, like I've got a certain quintessence to me now that I never really had. I think I should be offended, but I'm not really too sure since I'm too busy trying not to fall back down when I sit up. Christophe's gone back to being distant and I suppose I've fallen back into old habits of sleeping in Castiel's quarters. It's hard not to fall back into old habits because you're so used to it. Your brain is wired to think a certain way, or to do things a certain way and sometimes we try to change that but I've discovered you can never really shake a habit. Like this morning at breakfast, I'm still biting at my nails while Sir Robert and my father talk idly about nonsensical problems in the Monarchy. I'm not quite involved, but then again, neither is Castiel or Christophe. He sits, mulling his thoughts around, like he stirs his coffee, round and round and round and round, until his spoon hits the side of the cup, hard.

"Far, Your Majesty. Do we have any news on when the wedding will be taking place? I understand that the last scheduled time ended on a bit of a drastic note, but I must know." He says simply, looking my father straight in the eyes.

"Christophe," Sir Robert speaks, "I don't believe that's your place."

My father tenses up in his seat, obviously feeling a bit intruded by Christophe's straightforward question, "last time we tried to do something that big, my daughter almost died. I am not risking that again, especially with her so far into the pregnancy."

"If I may, Sir. I think it would be wise to have the wedding as soon as possible. You're getting old, Sir, it's a fact we cannot avoid anymore, you are getting past your time, and that will effect your efficiency. I just think that it would be wiser to have the wedding as soon as possible, Castiel should be heading back to the Fjords, because I am sure the Council isn't managing too well by themselves." Christophe has an edge to his voice again, or should I say Chris. This part of him is so unstable, I'm not sure if he wants to have an innocent conversation with my father or to haul the fork at him.

"Are you questioning my efficiency, young Christophe? That's a rather unwise decision to make." My father taunts, it's like watching a display of two animals fighting over their prey. Right now my father has the advantage, but by the smirk plastered all over Christophe's face he's in the lead.

"Yes, I am." He says.

"I am not going to be preached by a nineteen year old on how to run my Kingdom. My decision is final, and my word is law." My father states firmly, with a smug grin spreading over his lips.

"Impulsivity is never a good trait for a King." Christophe says quickly, and Sir Robert's face immediately goes longer, his mouth practically falling open.

"Christophe Fjeld, I would expect this kind of rogue behavior from Castiel, but from you? This is preposterous, apologize immediately." Sir Robert says firmly.

"My apologies, Your Highness, I was a little out of line." Christophe apologizes, "but I did mean everything I said. Mull it over; I'm sure you'll find it in you to consider it. After all, I only ever state the truth." Christophe rises gracefully from his seat, leaving us all open-mouthed and wide-eyed, at a loss for words. He'd just openly questioned my father's judgment, punishable by a Reckoning, but I know he won't Reckon Christophe; he loves him like a son. He's missing in action for the rest of the day, returning promptly at dinner to sit down with all of us.

"Christophe, do you mind explaining to me your behavior this morning?" Sir Robert asks when he walks in.

"Right, I apologize. I suppose I was a little out of line questioning your abilities, Sir. I don't know what came over me." He apologizes quickly, like Christophe would. Maybe he's come to his sense again.

"And where have you been all day?" Sir Robert continues.

"Far, you never mention anything about Castiel's momentary disappearances, why is mine so important?" He asks.

"Because, Christophe. You are set to be wed to Miss Anaise here, and now you're off running all around town, not tending to her needs." Sir Robert says.

"So, you have considered my argument?" He says, louder than I anticipated, Sir Robert mutters a small something under his breathe that none of us seem to catch as my father's eyes darken.

"No, Christophe. I have not, my decision stays final." My father replies.

"My apologies, again, Sire." Christophe says, before ducking his head down to eat his food. For the rest of dinner he is silent, and if that wasn't suspect we don't see him for the rest of tomorrow either.

"This is getting ridiculous, where the hell is he?" Castiel demands, as he's pacing around in my room the next afternoon, "first he openly question's your father's judgment and now he's missing in action, what the hell is he doing?"

"Castiel, calm down. I'm sure he's just wandering around the Castle." I say.

"Or perfectly his archery down in the Correction room," he laughs like it's funny, "I'm serious though, where is he? He can't just vanish like this."

"You do too, sometimes." I say.

"I always leave notes, always when I'll return, he hasn't said anything. Got up this morning and just left, said absolutely nothing, and that's suspect." Castiel continues.

"Yeah, coming from two rebels that's saying something." I find myself joking.

"I almost forgot about our whole plan." Castiel admits, "the Castle seems to have a way of making someone completely forget their problems by giving them an entire new set of problems to solve."

"Always been that way, I suppose." I say softly.

"Yeah, how are you feeling, by the way?" He asks, with a small smile on his face.

"I'm okay, for now. If Christophe doesn't decide to relapse or try to kill you again." I say, comic undertones to my voice.

"Very funny, Anaise. Didn't know you had a sense of humor." Castiel mocks, grin stuck on his face.

"At times it's there." I say, smiling as well. Castiel and I have a certain type of connection, I realize now we always have, ever since we were little kids we'd had this connection, just this immediate bond from the start. And I like that, I like how I have someone who understands me in this twisted world I'm stuck in, I like how I know someone will be there for me and little Arvud even when Christophe isn't. I like that very much.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asks.

"What?" I answer, a bit confused.

"What are you thinking about?" He replies with a chuckle, "it's an old expression."

"I was thinking about you." I admit, laughing softly, "thinking about how little Arvud will always have someone when Christophe decides to whack out again. How I'll always have someone when I feel like everything is crumbling down again."

"That's sweet." He says, almost sardonically, "but you should confide in Christophe. Not me."

"I did," I answer, a bit confused by his tone, "didn't work."

"Anaise, I know what you're getting at, but this thing we seem to sometimes get so lost in is just going to get us in more trouble. You saw what us kissing did to him, if he catches us close now he'll for sure kill us." Castiel's biting worriedly on his bottom lip, "and I can't stand that thought."

"I know, I know. And it's terrible, I don't want to marry your brother, it's clear as day and he knows it. The problem is we're being forced into it." I'm ranting now, I need someone to know that I don't really wish to marry Christophe.

"Well, you're Royal, you don't have much of a say." Castiel says, and then I'm laughing almost bitterly.

"Ironic, how I'm supposed to have a say in how this quarter is run, but I don't even have a say in my own marriage." I answer.

"The world is a cruel place." He says, stepping closer to me. I allow myself a slip before going back on track; so I kiss him, kiss him before everything falls apart again.

ah the calm before the storm :-)