This was an unexpectedly hard fic to write! Doubly hard because a lot of editing went into making this something less than pages, because if I didn't, then this would have ballooned into a seventeen page monstruosity! Not that that would've been a worse gift fic or anything…but I have to keep my sanity somehow! Happy New Year everyone, and have this short and sweet fic for the inimitable arihime.

Ever since she was a little girl, Charlotte dreamt of the luxuries of Krakenburg Castle: jeweled fabrics, damascened steel, soft velvet slippers. Roast swans whose painstakingly plucked feathers were placed back again onto their cooked bodies for the amusement of partygoers at sumptuous banquets. Underground gardens full of black roses, and marble fountains whose soft gurgling lulled courtiers into a gentle sleep.

Luxuries of that kind meant never heaving to worry about finances ever again. Not that Charlotte married Xander for his money, quite the opposite—but it was certainly nice to fret over things that didn't include starving to death, and, now that the war was over, not dying in combat. Her parents lived in the comfort they deserved and she was happily married with a son and another darling little baby on the way.

Of course, with the position of queen consort came other problems…

Charlotte gritted her teeth as the maids brushed her hair, tightened her stays, and applied the requisite layers of makeup and powders on her (now royal) face. They straightened the crown circling her brow and adjusted the somewhat long train of her dress as she stood behind the doors separating her apartments from the rest of the castle. A nervous weight tightened in her stomach as the footmen prepared to open them up.

"Let's just get this over with," Charlotte growled, and the doors groaned loudly in response as she marched towards her new battlefield.

Every waking moment of her day meant attending various petitions and functions of government now that she ruled at Xander's side. There were laws to review and revise in wake of the king's radical reforms, towns and cities to rebuild; why, with the amount of work that they were doing, it was a wonder that Windwire, and all of Nohr by extension, hadn't changed practically overnight. But kingship was something that Xander had been raised for his entire life. Charlotte was born the only child of a pair of poor peasants. The new court thankfully didn't push her into things like learning how to use twenty different types of forks for a meal, or the proper way to curtsey to a widower who was above a certain age (but not so old that his children had children of their own), but marrying into queenship was something she needed to be educated in. If she wanted to support Xander, then she needed the right lessons for it.

"What's on the schedule today, Benny?" Charlotte asked her long-time friend. The giant of a man was helping her adjust to life in Krakenburg, but ultimately planned to go back to the forest bordering Hoshido and Nohr with his new wife Oboro. The spry young Hoshidan had earned Charlotte's respect with her can-do attitude and incredible tailoring skills, but she wondered if a life of sewing and tending to Benny's animal friends was something Oboro really wanted, especially after having been in service to Prince Takumi for years.

Well, it's their life—not like I could have actually seen myself in this position either, Charlotte mused.

Benny flipped open the notebook they'd prepared for the 'Super Ultra Hectic Crunch-Time' period (as she dubbed it). "After breakfast you've got an hour of Intro to Hoshidan Language and Culture, then three hours of Nohrian Political History. Then you're meeting with some stuffy old men in wigs who'll give you reports about how the farms are doing before they pass those onto King Xander. You get fifteen minutes for lunch and an hour for checking mail and complaints. Then you're sitting in on a parle—parliamentary session and you're supposed to take notes, and then you have to review those with Siegbert before you pass them onto Xander's guys." Benny stopped to catch his breath for a moment. "After that there's your dance lesson, your walk around Windmire, you're receiving Corrin's entourage from Valla and then you'll have that big supper together."

"Wonderful!" Charlotte sighed wearily. "I can feel myself getting blisters already."

When she was still a soldier, Charlotte dreamt of eating foods like fluffy white bread, poached eggs with lobster and hollandaise sauce, applesauce garnished with cinnamon, and thick chocolate éclairs. Foods that were not only exquisitely delicious but sure to keep her full for the day. Now that she was pregnant again, eating was one of her favourite parts of the day—but alas, her schedule only left her enough time for a simple meal of hot lemon tea and a bowl of red berry porridge.

Still better than what we ate in the army. A muffin would be nice though, Charlotte thought as she spooned her unremarkable breakfast into her mouth.

The queen spied her husband and oldest son striding into the dining room, and she stopped eating to get up and say hello to them. Xander was kind enough to give her an extra hour of sleep, since he took it upon himself to wake earlier for work, but she still missed him. Siegbert was old enough to accompany his father (given the strange magic of the Deeprealms) and shared his odd hours.

"How're my boys doing?" She kissed their cheeks and hugged them tightly.

Siegbert, dressed in a rather casual travel suit, held his mother's hand fondly. "Tired but happy, as usual. There's a lot to be done nowadays."

"We were just going to grab a quick bite before our meeting," Xander added. "And then I have to see Siegbert off before he departs for Cheve."

Charlotte felt her smile drop into a rather forced twitch, and she willed herself to control it from turning into a scowl. "Depart for—wait, what? When was I going to hear about this? Siegbert's leaving?"

"Dear, we've discussed this, remember? He's seeing Sophie to discuss the new trainees' progress."

"Oh. Right. The trainees. Right. I totally remember." Charlotte couldn't remember anything about that for the life of her. Whether it was the pregnancy scrambling her brains, hunger, her lack of sleep, or some combination of the three, she'd been prone to outright forgetting things lately. A surefire recipe for disaster in her position. Not that she had any real reason to worry about it…right?

The queen smiled brightly and pinched her son's cheek, smiling wider at his half-hearted protest. "Well, you just remember to bundle up in case of bad weather, alright? And you should definitely write to us once you get there!"

"Yes, mother," Siegbert said with a grin.

She waved them off, her heartstrings thoroughly tugged as she watched them retreat. Oh, they grow up so fast…well, in his case it was literal, but whatever! Same thing!

When Charlotte turned around to go back to her breakfast, she was dismayed to discover that the table had been cleared less than a minute ago.

Her first lesson was what she would optimistically call a bust. So far, she had managed to mangle the Hoshidan language thoroughly enough that even her relatively uncultured parents would wince if they ever heard her pronunciation, and her attempt at calligraphy resulted in limp looking squiggles across rice paper far too expensive for her poor attempt at the alphabet. Said attempt also ended up splattered all over Charlotte's dress, so changing into something clean and presentable (and easy to wear over her growing belly) meant she was twenty minutes late to the next lesson.

Charlotte cockily thought that her familiarity with Nohrian subjects would mean an easier time with the tutor—a notion she instantly regretted once presented with many thick books detailing the history of Nohrian rulers (Herpo the Foul? Rágnarr the Unwashed? What kind of parent comes up with names like those?), the various wars between Nohr and Hoshido (Did we seriously come to blows over a bucket of all things?), and even riveting topics such as the various requirements needed to become a royal groom of the stool (Why does that position even exist?).

She'd always dreamt of going to school and learning to read, write, do arithmetic, and other sorts of things; education was something reserved for the wealthy, for the children of people who didn't have to worry about things like hunger or the cold or being sent to the front lines. Charlotte felt guilty for thinking that her lessons were tedious and even boring, but still…she'd never have guessed that schooling was something so difficult.

Then came the stuffy old men Benny warned her about. Charlotte thought they were fine so far. They were certainly very polite and well versed in their positions, and she was grateful that Nohr had competent politicians like them working for the greater good…but by gods did they talk. And talk. And talk some more. She caught herself spacing out more than once, and it took a great deal of willpower to force herself to pay attention instead of fixating on a particular gentleman's incredibly hairy black mole. It was like the world's ugliest raisin: dark and wrinkly and fat, with a ring of wispy little whiskers sprouting around it while three enormous curly tendrils snaked out of it in a horribly grotesque yet fascinating manner. Charlotte nodded politely as they discussed grain storage and management of acreage. And yet she couldn't stop staring at that godforsaken blemish as they droned on and on and on—

"—wouldn't you say so, Your Highness?"

She blinked. All eyes were on her, waiting to hear her answer on…on something. Charlotte couldn't recall what exactly it was that they'd been talking about. Sweat began to gather at the back of her neck as she tried to cook up a plausible enough excuse.

"W-well," the queen started carefully, "I'm pleased to hear about our progress so far, but what I'm really interested in is how we're planning to heal those Dragon Veins. Relying on them too much is what got us into this type of trouble, right? So we also need to take that into consideration and figure out how how we're going to balance out their use without draining them to the point of drought, like our predecessors did."

To Charlotte's utter relief, the men nodded in agreeance, and they praised her clear-sighted remarks, commending her for her cleverness and straightforwardness. She relaxed. While she had never imagined she'd find herself having to make these sorts of decisions on behalf of thousands, it was quite a relief to know that she was making some sort of difference…even if she was distracted and not such a great calligrapher or student of political history. Her parents and Xander would be so proud!

I can do this, she thought, brimming with pure optimism as she gathered up her reports to hand them off to her husband. I can totally do this! Maybe it's not that easy, but it's not that hard either.

"I can't do this!" Charlotte whined as Xander applied long, deep strokes to her aching feet. The queen was curled up into a pathetic little ball on the divan of their private quarters, resigned to hiding herself away from the court (and from the looks of it, the entirety of Nohr) after the embarrassing fiasco at parliament.

"I totally fell asleep! And everyone saw! There was no way I could've gotten away with it because my chair was right at the front!" she practically sobbed.

"Dear, everyone falls asleep at parliament," the king reassured her gently. "Garon did it, Camilla, Leo—why, I've had my fair share of naps in there too. It's a bit difficult to stay awake for three hours when it's so dark and warm—"

"No, you don't understand! You, you've had time for all this! I haven't been trained for this like you have! And I'm pregnant and bloated so I'm tired a lot, then my heels were killing me and they broke, and I didn't have Siegbert to help with the notes because he's gone and oh Xander, what'll I do? I'm totally a failure! This is a nightmare!"

Sighing, Xander ceased the foot massage and climbed onto the divan with his wife, pressing their two blond heads together. The ticking of the large grandfather clock made for a soothing source of quiet noise as he took out his handkerchief and wiped the single tear that threatened to fall from Charlotte's eye. Her lip quivered traitorously, and she suppressed a loud sniff as she waited to hear his undoubtedly sage words of advice.

He tucked a lock of hair behind her eye. "You're right. You haven't had the training for this like I have. But that's quite admirable, wouldn't you say? You're no noble stock, that's for sure—"

"That's not very reassuring," Charlotte interrupted.

"—but it really does show how far your efforts have taken you. So what if you're not an expert calligrapher? What does it matter if you're having difficulties memorising a dense political treatise, or falling asleep at parliament, or not understanding your notes? It makes your efforts all the more apparent."

"'Effort' won't make me a better queen. I need to be more like you and understand things the way you do if I'm going to rule by your side."

"Effort will make you a better queen, my darling. It shows that you care." Xander readjusted them so that they lay side by side, Charlotte's round belly was pressed comfortably into his palm as he caressed it slowly, tenderly. He kissed her head. "It shows that you're willing to put the time and work into knowing what your duties entail, that you're ready to listen to people who depend on you for guidance, and that you have the heart of someone who's ready to shoulder the burden of rulership. Gods know I need someone like that by my side."

She turned to look at him, moving her hand up and down his brocaded vest, and exhaled. The clock kept ticking in the companionable silence that followed, and she considered his words with a grave sort of seriousness. "You really think so?" Charlotte said.

"One hundred and fifty percent," he nodded resolutely.

Charlotte giggled. He rarely used such expressions in his vocabulary—she suspected Corrin or Elise might have something to do with that—but it was touching to know that he was so willing to raise her up when her spirits were low. Xander was a loving husband and a caring father, and she was so lucky to have him in her life.

"You know," Charlotte murmured thoughtfully, "I never dreamt that I'd find myself being the queen over the whole or Nohr…but I didn't think someone would see past that cutesy damsel façade I put up while I was in the army either."

"And I never thought that I'd be married to the strongest warrior out of my forces instead of some prim and proper lady that my father would have picked for me," Xander replied.

"Oh? Am I not a lady?"

Rolling over slightly, Xander gave her a pained expression. "Dear—"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! You know I'm just joking, don't worry!" Charlotte punched his shoulder lightly, playfully, though it was still enough to make him grimace and reach up to rub the sore spot. She laughed and pulled him into a kiss, and the grimace turned into a soft smile as they reclined comfortably on their divan. They napped for a short while until a page arrived at the door and knocked to inform them that it was almost time for the queen's scheduled walk around the capital.

Charlotte, yawning, impulsively decided to cancel it. "You know what? I need some more rest. I don't think people will really mind if I don't go out for a single day. And besides, my ankles are still hideously swollen."

"It's entirely your privilege as my queen," Xander agreed.

She grinned widely. "Oh! I like the sound of that!"

"What, 'your privilege?'"

"Well, that too, but mostly you calling me your queen. Won't you please say it again, my love?" Charlotte slipped into an impression of the façade she met her husband with: a doe eyed ingenue swooning over a big strong gentleman (preferably a very rich one) riding in to save the day—not that she liked or needed to put on such a show anymore, but it was quite amusing to bring it up occasionally.

He chuckled, and though he was no longer the sober, solemn young man she had known from before, it was always such a treat to hear him in high spirits. "Only if you call me your love in return."

Charlotte would have never guessed that she would end up queen of Nohr after going through a war with Hoshido, a journey to a strange parallel realm that revealed a bizarre dragon overlord as the true antagonist pulling the strings between the two nations, and having seen the ascendance of Xander's adopted brother Corrin to the throne of the newly restored Valla. There were a lot of things she hadn't figured out in her wishes for the future. Ever since she was a little girl, she dreamt of finding a man she loved, marrying him and raising a family together, and residing in a peaceful and prosperous Nohr. She dreamt of her parents having a comfortable home to retire to and living long enough to meet their grandchildren; she dreamt of living long enough to meet her own grandchildren, and possibly their grandchildren too.

Being queen was difficult. Charlotte wasn't going to lie to herself and pretend it was that easy to simply snap her fingers and invoke her privileges if she suddenly felt too lazy to go out and work. Now she had to make an effort to do things like learn foreign languages, memorise dense books on politics, try to stay awake during dull parliamentary sessions, and go out and about to meet the people who she now ruled over. Just like Xander did.

Because now she had the power to make her dreams come true, and help many other Nohrian children as well—like the little girl she was was, who might be looking towards Castle Krakenburg now, thankful to be living in a time of new peace and prosperity.

Charlotte extended her hand to her husband, her heart weighed down with love, and bid him to come over and help her change into something appropriate for the Vallite reception.