Prompt: "Young Kristoff"
Pairing: None, Kristoff character study
Rating: T
When he was eight, they ignored him. He just followed them around, giggling and harvesting his own little blocks. He only managed to get about one little block done a day, and they usually melted too quickly, but he was proud of himself. The grown ice men couldn't care less, though.
When he was eleven, they at least acknowledged his existence. It was through snickers and murmurs about how small he was and how there was no chance he would amount to anything, but at least it was something. He kept quiet, to himself, and just focused on making his blocks as perfect as possible. It wasn't about quantity anymore, it was about quality.
When he was thirteen, they gave him silent nods. They would work beside him, their impressed eyes following his cuts. He was still small, but his shoulders were broadening, arms thickening, body getting more and more adjusted to his lifestyle. He was only behind them by a few blocks at the end of the day.
When he was sixteen, they started to give him tips. Tips on how to cut faster, cleaner, and more efficiently. They included him in on their jokes, on their breaks, and on their trips to and from town. They did what they could to help him become the best harvester he could.
Then when he was nineteen, he was well respected and talented enough to go off on his own.