A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows along on the way with this story! I am so glad that you guys enjoyed this story! I really wasn't sure what the reception would be with the setting, but it was something that I had been wanting to write for a long while. If you enjoyed my work hear, you can check out my profile for the other things that I will be working on...the next few months are oddly Theo specific, so I hope you like that character, haha! You can also follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Also, a huge thank you to Ava Safari, who beta read this story, and was just an overall tremendous help to me during the writing process, letting me puzzle out various plot lines and giving great advice!

Please let me know what you thought of the epilogue!

Fifteen Years Later

Hearing the barking of dogs, Hermione knew that the hunting party had returned. Pressing back her chair, Hermione stood up, pressing her hand to her rounded belly.

Severus looked up at her from where he sat. "How much longer until this one, my Queen," he asked, sounding utterly annoyed, though Hermione knew that it was nothing more than an act at this point. Severus has helped educate all three of her children, and she knew that he adored them, even though they drove him a bit crazy sometimes.

"Only another month, Severus," she answered, looking at him with a grin.

He wouldn't deny that each of Hermione's children were scholars, though some enjoyed education more than others. He'd come to see the benefit of having a learned ruler in the fifteen years since Hermione had been made Queen, so much so, that he'd encouraged all ealdorment to teach their children to read and right.

"You should tell your husband not to leave so close to your time on trivial hunting trips," he scolded, though not particularly sternly. "You don't want him to miss another one."

It had become somewhat of a joke that the King made himself absent while the Queen labored. Their eldest child had been born a month early, when Thorfinn was completing his first tour of the Kingdom with his retinue. After the previous King's death, much of the leadership in the Kingdom had to be shifted, so it took much longer to sort out than it normally would. Thorfinn had granted Eirik the lands that their father had once held. He gifted Eirik's lands to Fenrir Greyback, who was more than happy to be located so close to the sea.

He had been there for the birth of their second child, no more than two years later, but he had missed the birth of their third child. Fenrir was not the only Dane in the country, and Thorfinn had been called to assist with stopping the raiding. It had taken several years before the King was able to return home, and when he did, Hermione had done so by handing him a three year old child.

It was during times of war that they were most happy to have a Queen to rule them. Hermione was able to keep everything moving smoothly in Hogschester and amongst the Kingdom despite the men being called away, which only made their Kingdom stronger. There were times when she wished she could fight alongside the rest of her people, but she knew that they were better served with her in Hogschester.

"You know the only reason that he went is because it is their birthday," Hermione told Severus fondly. "He absolutely cannot say no to them."

Walking out into the courtyard, the hunting dogs swarmed around her legs, eagerly yipping and barking at her, but they could not stop her steady progress towards her husband. Thorfinn was as tall as he was the day that they'd gotten married, but he'd only grown more imposing over the years. His broad shoulders and large arms might be frightening to some, but to Hermione they were best used to hold her.

He kept his dark blond beard cut short and today he wore his hair back in braids to keep the long locks out of his eyes, showing off his mischievous grin and sparkling eyes. He carried a large buck over his shoulders and wore a proud look that only a father could. "You will never guess who caught this dinner for you," he said, before catching her mouth in a lingering kiss.

Pulling away, she looked past her husband to the two teenagers that followed behind him. Ivar Theoson looked sheepish, his brown hair shining in the sunlight, as he locked eyes with the Queen, his aunt. Beside him walked her daughter, Sigewynn, who walked with confidence and a bow on her back. The riotous curls of her blonde hair had been pulled back into braids as well and she gave her mother the toothy grin of a young girl.

"It was I, mother," she said, flouncing over to where Hermione stood. Despite being only newly turned fourteen, Sigewynn had already grown taller than Hermione. "I killed the deer with only one shot of my bow."

"That's not true!" came a squeaky voice from behind the pair of cousins. "It took her three arrows."

Hermione smirked at her eldest son, before pulling him into a hug. "Ivar Thorfinnson, don't antagonize your sister on her birthday," she scolded, gently. Ever since Theo and Leoflaed had sent their eldest son to Hogschester to gain experience at court, everyone had resorted to using the two boys father's to differentiate the two.

Her Ivar grew to look more and more like Thorfinn each day, though he was tall and spindly, not yet having the muscle his father had, being that he was still only eleven. She tried to remember what Thorfinn had looked like when he'd come to her family's home all those years ago, and she wondered if it wasn't dissimilar to the way Ivar looked now. Except that he had her eyes, of course.

"I wasn't antagonizing her," he whined. "You just always advise us to tell the truth, and Sige wasn't."

She ruffled Ivar's hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Why don't you go liberate your little brother from his lessons, while your father and I go speak with the cook about dressing the deer," she said, catching Thorfinn's eye. Thorsten was their youngest child at age six and he was easily the wildest of their three children, never wanting to sit still long enough to read.

With the three children running off in search of the youngest aetheling, Hermione followed Thorfinn towards the butchers, knowing that they had much to discuss. "Severus wanted me to scold you for leaving me alone so close to my time again," she teased him, pressing her shoulder into his.

Thorfinn grimaced before looking at her with amusement. "You know that I don't care what Severus has to say," he said with a grin. "Besides, we weren't far. You could have sent someone to me and I would have ridden all the way home without stopping."

Hermione sighed. "I know, I just missed you," she answered, leading the way towards their private chambers. Once they were alone, Thorfinn wrapped her up in his arms, pressing an eager kiss to her lips. Pulling her towards the bed, he sat down on the edge, pulling her to stand between his legs. A large hand came to press against the swell of her stomach and she could feel their child kicking against her, just as glad to be reunited with its father as she.

"Soon, little one," he whispered, longing in his voice. "Do you think that it will be a son or a daughter this time?"

"Luna said that it was another son when she visited last month," Hermione answered, a hand against her back.

"Luna does not know everything," Thorfinn complained, never enjoying the way that Luna always looked at them, saying the oddest things whenever she and Rabastan came to visit.

Hermione smiled. "You know that she has not been wrong yet," she answered. Running her hands through his hair, she worked to loosen the braids that held it back. In turn, he used his hands to cup her arse, giving each cheek a squeeze. Hermione pulled away and smirked at her husband. "You know that you cannot distract me from the discussion at hand," she scolded. "What was decided?"

Thorfinn sighed, before flopping back against the bed. The hunting trip had not just been a birthday present for Sigewynn and Ivar Theoson. Thorfinn had also been accompanied by various ealdormen, who were always eager to hammer out alliances, getting blessings for marriages and deciding how to deal with uprisings at the edges of the Kingdom.

Most recently, he'd been hounded by Evan Rosier, who had supported Thorfinn in his campaign against Tom all those years ago, at Leoflaed's urging. He'd always been quick to press Thorfinn for additional favors, reminding him of how much his assistance had been used. Rosier was an exile from Frankia, who had designs on reclaiming his family seat - or his son to reclaim it.

"Evan is sending his eldest son to Frankia to reclaim his crown," Thorfinn said, pressing his hand against his face. "And I've agreed to give Sigewynn's hand to Evan."

Hermione always knew that a day like this would come, but she didn't want to acknowledge that it was actually happening. "But Thorfinn, she is only a child, barely turned fourteen," Hermione argued. "And I don't want her going off to Frankia to some battlezone where she might be killed! It's too dangerous."

"Don't let her hear you say that, she might just try to go on her own," Thorfinn snarked back, knowing that their girl was a warrior, who wanted nothing more than to lead an army in battle. Thorfinn had delighted in teaching her strategies when she was younger, but now that she'd grown older and more willful, he didn't trust her not to run off into a dangerous situation. "No, I've gotten Evan to agree to a wedding by proxy now, and she will join him in Frankia in two years or once he's regained the Kingdom, if he cannot accomplish it in that time."

Two years. Hermione did feel better knowing that she would have more time with her daughter to teach her, not wanting to give her up just yet. "What do you know of this Evan Evanson?" she inquired of her husband, having not met the boy before.

"He's a smart boy from what I can tell. He has a fierce drive," Thorfinn described the young man that he'd just spent the last two weeks with. He seemed to have a singular focus on reclaiming the country that he hadn't even been born in. "Though I think he's a bit too pretty. Perhaps battle will help him with that."

"Thorfinn, do not wish him ill," Hermione scolded her husband. "He is to become your son by law."

"You are right. I just don't want to give her away," he said, sounding miserable. Sigewynn had always had her father wrapped around her little finger, ever since she was a baby. She was his first born and he loved her fiercely.

Hermione laughed. "You are the King, Thorfinn," she teased. "If you do not wish to give her away, no one can make you. But, it is a good match. Sigewynn is a princess and Evan could become King in his own lands. There are few that are worthy of her hand." It was a truth that was hard to acknowledge, especially seeing as she had come from such humble beginnings herself.

Thorfinn still did not look convinced. "If you think it is such a good idea, you can tell her yourself," he suggested, staring at his lovely wife, wondering how he would accomplish anything if he did not have her by his side.

"You are right, I should be the one to tell her," Hermione agreed, knowing that it would probably come better from her own mouth. Knowing Thorfinn, he would only complicate things. "At least she will have two more years to get used to the idea."

The half-northman did feel better knowing that his wife would handle the news for their daughter. If Sigewynn looked at him with Hermione's eyes and begged him not to make her marry Evan, he was certain he would crumble. But, he felt a little guilty knowing that it was not the last ask he must make of Hermione. "There is more," he said, hearing his voice waver when Hermione narrowed her brown eyes at him.

"Yes?" she asked, crawling up the bed to lie down beside him.

"Fenrir would like to open his home to foster Thorsten. Apparently his wife hopes that he might grow to love their daughter," Thorfinn answered. Fenrir Greyback had been given an Anglo-Saxon wife, not unlike Thorfinn's own parents, in addition to his lands. Daphne Greengrass had initially been horrified to be married to a beast of a man like Fenrir, but had eventually warmed up to him, and they were now very much in love, with a gaggle of children of their own. Oswynn, their daughter was of an age with Thorsten and had all of the beauty of her mother and the mischievousness of her father.

Hermione sighed. "Must you insist on sending all of my children to far off places?" she whined, thinking that she couldn't stand to send the little boy off so far away. "He's already wild enough and you want to give him to Fenrir?"

"Fenrir will send us two of his sons in return," Thorfinn said with a shrug of his shoulders, knowing that Kingly life was an endless web of marriages, fosterings, and alliances. It was all a delicate balance to make sure that no one fought with one another at the risk of harming their own kin. "And, I think it will be good for Thorsten."

"He's only six. He's still my baby, and I am not ready to send him so far away," Hermione said, with a wobble in her voice.

"We can wait a year, but you know that Fenrir's lands are not so far away," Thorfinn consoled her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, wishing that he didn't have to send his son away, but knowing it was for the good of the Kingdom. "You haven't toured the Kingdom with me in many years. Perhaps you will join me again, once this one is born."

"Frank and Dane, you know that we are going to have to marry Ivar to a Saxon to keep everyone happy," Hermione said resting her hands on her belly. "And probably this little one as well." Sometimes the people of the Kingdom can be so fickle, never wanting it to seem as though one cultural group was gaining a foothold above them. Hermione was proud at how harmoniously everyone lived most of the time, but there was always a threat of something bubbling up underneath. She hoped that one day they could all form one culture, and leave their old lives behind. Perhaps her own children's marriages would be a good way to do that.

She pressed her head against Thorfinn's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She longed to spend the entire afternoon with him locked away in their rooms, but knew that was not likely to happen. There were children to speak with and feasts to be had. She would relish every last minute she had with her children before they went off to forge their own paths in life.

And, no matter the physical distance, she knew that she and Thorfinn were connected by some unseen thread, only strengthened by war, love and family. "I love you, husband," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I am so happy that you never gave up your love for me."

Thorfinn took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. "I love you, too, my Queen - Hermione, daughter of Eni, and descendent of Cartimandua herself," he teased her lovingly. "I'm just glad I got you to give me a chance."

Closing her eyes, trying to enjoy the afternoon sun, Hermione smiled hearing their hearts beat as one.