“Ah,” was the man’s reply, the culprit made known, and Agdar took the opportunity to plant yet another kiss upon the tot’s head, “Well perhaps we could get comfortable enough in my study, hm?”
A study which may very well one day become hers. But it was hard to imagine such a tiny little thing to be Queen. No, let him be King, let this daughter of his remain a bundle of joy. That was what he would love most in the world—-and of course, with a sibling for Elsa, surely it would be a blissful few years.
He wondered how it would feel to see them grow up, how beautiful his Elsa would become, for he was sure she will grow beautifully—-there was no doubt in the man’s mind.
Already having latched herself onto her father, Elsa let out a little yawn. It would seem in the King’s arms, she was already getting past whatever it was that had held her from sleep. She was like a different child to the one who had been fighting off her sheets, wailing that she wanted her father. For most children, such an outburst would be easily fixed or subdued, but Elsa’s tantrums came with wind and snow.
"Papa,“ she said softly, her young tongue already starting to slur the word with sleepiness. "Comfy.”
"Better than your bed?“ Idun asked, brushing some of that wispy hair away from the child’s face. And she got a most definite nod in return.