The King (for he was the King now, and liked it, especially the feasting bits, which were quite a lot more fun than riding off to war) cradled his newborn daughter in his hairy arms and pronounced:

"Our child shall have a mighty destiny to fulfill!"

The Queen mumbled something incoherent.

"You're talking in Elvish again, my sweet."

"I said, what sort of destiny?" the Queen demanded, resting against her pillows. "None of your nonsense, now."

"You quite liked my nonsense nine months ago," the King said. And he sulked a bit."Never you mind about nine months ago."

The Queen slapped at the hands that attempted to tidy the covers and blot her glistening brow. "And you'd better tell those fairies hovering outside the window to shove off. I can't abide fairies."

"Now, now, m'lady," a lady-in-waiting murmured. "Perhaps they'd like to bestow a gift upon the young princess."

"We'll have none of that fol-de-rol in this castle," the Queen said. "Fairies are trash. Summon my Archers."

The Queen's Archers are summoned...