A/N: I noticed there are at least three people who had the heart to follow this story, and to those three I thank you very much. Hopefully this second chapter starts kicking things into motion a bit more and introduces the way the story will progress from here out. I apologize if the snippet format isn't to your liking, but it's easiest for me.

This is kinda written like a documentary, so...sorry if it's unappetizing mentally.

06:27, en route to Arendelle Station.

The large, spoke-laden wheels of the horse-drawn carriage clattered along the muddy cobble as the two black Kallblodstravare tugged it toward Arendelle Station. At the reins sat a portly man with a ruddy complexion and a half-ring of orange (greying) hair around the crown of his skull. The sun had only shortly begun to shine, but the sheen of sweat across his forehead and the hair-free nature of the dome above had already begun to shine in the light. His tweed jacket, adorned only with two buttons and two large pockets, laid over a simple pressed white shirt, a small black bowtie, checked pants and leather loafers. He gazed blearily off at the sun as he followed the road to his destination, city-bound toward the only train station for many miles.

Inside the darkened windows of the carriage, the imposing black shell with thick, black curtains revealing nothing about the occupants, sat two women. One, the wife of the usher guiding the horses, had a shapely build and iron-gray hair. Her dark green wide-brimmed hat, designed to block the sun, matched the fitted dress she wore, right down to the mint-colored lace frill at her neck and the emerald brooch on her lapel. She peeked out the window to check their relative proximity to the station, though the sight of trees and shrubbery imposing upon the edges of the scant roadway gave her little reassurance that the city was any closer than it had been fifteen minutes prior when they left the estate.

Opposite the elder woman sat her employer and the lone inheritor to the Arendelle name. A frail figure, dressed in a very conservative high-necked black corset with a dark green velvet bodice and skirt. The train to the rear of the dress had been cut short so as to suggest power and efficacy but not overbearing royalty. Tulle had been used to fluff the inside of the ankle-length skirt away from black hosen and polished black flats. Both pale, slender arms fed into small, delicate hands clasped gently in her lap. Her back, straight as an iron fire poker, held her round head aloft, the pale skin wrapped softly over her lithe frame to create soft, round cheeks set high on their bones and large, perceptive blue eyes above lightly-dotted freckles and a thin nose with a light turn to its tip. As she sat, her eyes remained closed, back straight, the only movements to grace her figure being her slow, deep breaths and the light toss of the carriage.

"Are we almost to the station?" the woman inquired.

"If we are on schedule, we should arrive shortly," her opposite replied, twitching the curtain once more. A single shaft of the early morning sunlight traced across the thin woman's almost translucent hair, so pale a shade of blonde it appeared almost white. The owner of the snowy hair sighed.

"I told Kai we should have left ten minutes sooner, Gerda. I cannot afford to miss this train or the business proposition to Weselton might not come to fruition."

"I understand that, Lady Arendelle, but you will arrive far earlier than the other passengers hoping to board this train. You already have a guaranteed seat in the First Class carriage, and the station master has been instructed not to permit the train to depart until you've been secured aboard. Everything will work out just fine."

"So long as I'm not late. And it isn't Lady Arendelle; I haven't attained that title. It's Lady Elsa."

"Well, Lady Elsa, speaking on behalf of your late mother, it would serve you well to perhaps learn some patience and to have confidence in those who aren't yourself. One person alone could not make the world continue to spin were it not for the forces of nature to aid him."

"Or her."

"Or her," Gerda agreed.

Two sharp raps sounded on the roof of the carriage and the wheels grated to a halt. Within thirty seconds, the door popped open.

"Nurse Gerda, Lady Arendelle, we have arrived at Arendelle Station."

Gerda stepped out first "She prefers Lady Elsa, Kai."

"Apologies. Lady Elsa, your train awaits."

The pale, slender heir to the Arendelle name stepped lightly from the carriage, her dress hovering mere inches from the dirt-infused road below. "Sakes, it is rather rank here."

"We are still in the street, ma'am. Perhaps crossing onto the platform will make you feel a bit better."

"Hmph."

Kai withheld a sigh as his young charge slowly made her way up the steps toward the station house. He whistled to a young boy lounging by the fence separating the street from the tracks beyond.

"Keep these horses fed and watered until we return in about a week and there shall be a handsome reward from the Arendelle estate."

The boy's eyes widened and he saluted, leading the horses and their carriage away to presumably keep safe until they returned. Kai then trekked up the stairs with carriage bags under each arm, laden with clothes for both his charge and his posse (consisting of himself and his wife). He found Gerda and Lady Elsa standing near the ticket counter, the former looking a bit distraught and the latter looking fairly blasé.

"Problem, ladies?"

"They say the First Class carriage has been booked."

Kai reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and produced three tickets, handing them all to Gerda. "I was down here a week ago handling this issue for Lady Elsa so that her journey might be made all-the-smoother."

"Apologies," Gerda said, a slight formal bow at her waist. Normally, she would not have shown such brisk formality to her husband, but both recognized their proximity to their esteemed employer, and neither could afford to be relieved of duty for a conduct mishap.

"Now, shall we take our seats? We have two rooms we may occupy, one of which can be used for Lady Elsa to conduct her business with the Weselton representative. If Lady Elsa is comfortable enough being on her own outside the course of the meeting, we can surely leave her to her musings, but if she would prefer to have aid at her service at all times one or both of us may stay to accompany her."

Their formalized third-person conversation had to be maintained at all times to avoid sidelong glances from their employer, lest a demerit or other punishment of mild to severe impact be dealt. The heir cleared her throat after a moment of consideration.

"I will decide that upon the completion of my meeting with the Weselton representative. If I deem the train to be safe, you will be permitted to liberate yourselves from my presence to do whatever you may like, so long as you remember that your actions are a direct reflection upon me."

The thinly-veiled implication of her conclusion did not weigh heavily upon their shoulders; both of her employees had only gotten as far for as long by simply being the best their Lady could ever have asked for, and though the words of caution were according to standard Arendellan protocol and instruction from prior parenting, they needn't have been said even for the utmost of care to be taken.

"Then let us be aboard this fine machine. We shouldn't keep our confidante waiting," Gerda urged. The trio passed onto the platform via the station's rear set of doors and maneuvered toward the open, waiting doors of the First Class coach. Standing at the door to the coach was a thin man with dark brown hair and a crisp, navy-colored uniform. He nodded at each of the three tickets presented to him, clipping them with a pair of scissors before permitting the group to board. It was at this point that Lady Elsa took a short moment to deviate.

"Leave my ticket with me. I'll have it clipped in a moment after I've had a word with the engineer."

She then strode toward the front of the train with her usual unhurried, prim gait. Upon passing the gap between the First Class coach and the train's tender, a man with unruly blonde hair and a soot-covered face emerged seemingly from nowhere, hands up, gloved fingers spread as he waved them back and forth.

"Woah, woah woah woah, woah, lady. Can't have you going that way; the locomotive is off-limits to civilians. Wouldn't want you to get hurt or run over by it. Please, return to your coach."

"I merely wish to speak to the engineer of this train," Elsa stated, only a mild hint of irritation at the edge of her voice.

"Aye, she's tied up readying the engine for the journey," the blonde man said, and from around the front of the snowplow strode a woman with hair the color of molten embers and skin like that of a peach. The black, grease-soaked gloves on her hands were being used to aid in wiggling and shifting portions of the train, and at one point the covered hands dug their way between the reflective metal rods and their attached black driving wheel counterparts, tossing the joint to and fro as the small amount of weight loosened the friction of the point. Without a word or heed of warning, Elsa approached the edge of the platform, the ten-foot drop forming a line with the boarding ledge of the cab. She cleared her throat and called out.

"You there, with the red hair. Are you the engineer?"

"Hey, get away from the edge!" the blonde called, jogging toward the well-dressed woman. The woman at the drive wheels turned her head, arms thoroughly wedged into the spokes of the drivers as she groped blindly for something beyond.

"Well, I'm not down here doing last-minute checks on my engine just because I'm a tourist, so I suppose I'm the one driving this rig." She grunted, then with a jolt and a blast of heated steam was tossed back, stumbling over her feet. She coughed, waving the disarming fog from her vision and nostrils. Lady Elsa remained unimpressed.

"How soon do you believe we shall arrive at Skymning?"

The engineer clambered up the ladder at the edge of the platform, leveling off at the top. Her eyes sparkled with a passion Elsa had not known existed, one she had never managed to find for herself.

"Well, being that the train is scheduled to depart no sooner or later than oh-seven-hundred, we should be along at fifteen-hundred-eight, assuming all is well with the track from here to there."

"I see. And this is a one-way line down to Skymning without stops?"

"There isn't another station between here and Skymning, just two sidings for other trains to pass by. This particular train will be in Svart by this time tomorrow and will make its way back up to Skymning five and a half days later."

"And you can attest to the accuracy of that prediction with your job at stake?"

The woman laughed, a pure sound that held only mirth. "As sure as my hair is red and my eyes are blue. I'd shake your hand, Lady Arendelle, but mine are a bit covered in soot and grease, two things unbefitting a woman such as yourself."

Elsa had no comment or reaction to the engineer. Where such a woman had learned to operate a train, and where further she had learned how to keep a schedule to the minute, would remain a mystery so long as the questions remained unasked, and as the hour closed upon 07:00, Elsa decided to forego further inquiry and instead offer a simple huff before returning to the First Class carriage.

Kai and Gerda had spent the time settling the rooms, and the rounder of the two parties was to be found sitting opposite a small, large-nosed man with hair to rival Elsa's in color and Kai's in location. His spectacles offered him the appearance of a rather bewildered-looking dragonfly, or perhaps some species of fish, but the overall effect was equally repulsive on either count. Elsa blinked before sitting stiffly beside Kai, refusing to settle into the seat as the other two occupants had.

"Ah, and this must be Lady Arendelle herself, every bit as beautiful as her mother and grandmother before her."

It was only with good grace that Elsa avoided creating an unfavorable situation for herself. My grandmother? If you're old enough to know her, you're probably old enough to tell me all about the war between the United States and Britain firsthand.

"So nice to meet you, Mister…?"

"I am the Duke of Weselton, Milady, and I have been sent on behalf of my province to hopefully establish a working trade agreement with you. I trust you have been keeping well?"

"Well enough to not fall terribly ill. If we could get to business and skip the pleasantries, please?"

"Of course, of course."

The sound of carriage doors closing redirected Elsa's attention momentarily, and the sound of a throaty "All Abooooaaard!" echoing down the length of the train indicated the start of her journey south, what would hopefully result in a successful trade agreement between the two business partners on an otherwise uneventful journey.

07:00, Arendelle Station.

The train emitted a shrill whistle as the pistons engaged, and with the first of a relentless number of thundering puffs, the train slid forward, departing Arendelle toward Skymning with all due haste.

I know the conflict hasn't exactly arisen yet. Chapter 3 has more on that front.

I'm also working on my extremely long one-shot again. Hopefully the 14'000 word story will be to someone's liking.

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? I'm all ears...eyes...whichever. ~Kyttin