They stopped shortly after noon for a quick lunch and to allow Sven to rest. Like they had throughout the morning, Elsa and Kristoff sat in companionable silence while they ate. Once they'd finished, however, Elsa finally felt the need to start some sort of conversation between them.

"I think we need an ice breaker."

The words didn't register just right. Kristoff looked up at her from where he'd been hooking Sven back up to her sled, his expression puzzled. "I've got my pickaxe there in the sled, under the bedrolls."

Elsa almost giggled at that, but she stopped herself in case her laughing might offend him. She didn't stop the wide smile that formed on her face, though. "No, I meant… Well, for example, how old are you?"

"Oh," he said with a snort, wrinkling his nose in good humor at his own misunderstanding. Perhaps a little embarrassment was due to him for being such a poor conversationalist. At least the question was easy enough to answer. "My birthday is in autumn. I just turned twenty-two."

Elsa gasped, which Kristoff felt was a bit dramatic for such a small fact. "Your birthday was recently? This is the first I've heard of it."

He shrugged. "It's the first I've said of it."

"At all? You didn't even mention it to Anna?"

He looked mildly uncomfortable for a moment, as if the fact that he'd kept it to himself might paint him as a liar. "No, I… She would've made a big deal out of it, and it's not a big deal thing to me."

She let it go at that, and Kristoff returned to re-prepping the sled. It wasn't until they'd started moving again that she put another casual question forward. She'd realized, while considering what to ask, that she didn't know much at all about Kristoff, so far as his history went. She knew enough to find him likable, she supposed. She knew that he was somewhat anti-social, or at least uneasy within large groups. She knew that he was kind, even so, and that he'd acted without self-interest where Anna was concerned. He was good at his job and a hard worker. He had a dry sense of humor and, apparently (according to Anna), a lovely singing voice. Other than these little bits and pieces, however, there was nothing. For all she knew, Kristoff could have simply appeared one day, fully formed as he was, and nobody would be any the wiser.

Why not start with these basics, then? "Where are you from?" she ventured. "Originally, I mean."

His answer, not unexpectedly, was short. "Up north."

"Oh? One of the villages in the foothills?"

"Not really, no."

Elsa was becoming rapidly aware of the fact that Kristoff needed to be led into conversation. Much like the trolls, whose nature he'd explained only hours before, his tendency was to keep certain truths to himself. While open in his answers, he didn't seem to divulge information without being directly prompted to do so. She pressed on, then, exasperation edging into her voice. "From where, then? Specifically."

He thought it over, as if he himself wasn't sure, and then answered with a thoughtful frown. "Up north, almost where we're headed. Most places don't really have names up there. Nothing set, anyway."

"You said people can't live up there," she reminded him, one eyebrow quirked in a skeptical expression.

"I said most people."

"So your people figured it out?"

"Guess so," he said, and again Elsa got the impression that his knowledge on the subject was somehow less than complete and that he was acutely aware of that fact. On that note, she fell into silence again, relaxing into the bench of the sled while her mind continued to wander.

On the second day into their journey, about an hour before suppertime, Kristoff announced that they would stop early for the night. After he'd found a suitable spot to camp and assured that his reindeer was well-fed and watered, he pressed an old coin into her hand and said, "Follow me. There's something we need to take care of."

Without giving her time to question or object to the order, he started towards the nearby tree line. Elsa followed, turning the coin, in her hand and trying to divide her attention between her footing and Kristoff, as if watching him more closely might decipher the mystery of their current mission. He squinted into the trees as they edged them until he seemed to find what he was looking for, taking a wide step into the brush. He leaned back to look at her, and his eyes darted down to her boots, still worn in combination with thick trousers. "There's a trail," he informed her, "but it's not a very clean one."

There was no question included, no wondering about whether her boots or herself were up to the task of a small hike. She had half a mind to object, or to at least request an answer as to why they were plunging themselves into the woods, but Kristoff's long strides had already carried him out of lecturing distance. As she moved to follow him once more, stepping over and around the relatively new growth that covered the path, she occupied herself by considering this man's lack of delicacy. His attitude since they'd left Arendelle had undoubtedly shifted. While she'd previously known him to be someone who seemed unsure of what to do with himself, his posture often stiff and his speech often bumbling, he was truly in his element out here. He'd dropped most of his formality with her, and he functioned with a sureness that always seemed practical and to the point. He still was particularly prone to conversation, but then… She wasn't, either. That was fine, however. A smile bloomed on her face as she concluded that Anna could talk enough for all three of them.

The trek wasn't a long one. She caught up to Kristoff to find him standing still and looking forward. Here, the woods had thinned, the trees having grown around the sight before them. It was a great rock formation, jutting somewhat unexpectedly from the otherwise fairly smooth ground of the area. Truth be told, it looked somewhat out of place, and its oddity was only multiplied upon further inspection. The ground around the landmark was littered with items that plainly didn't belong there. There were time-bleached offering of antlers and small-game skeletons, a worn totem or two, and quite a few coins. Their task became clear before Kristoff even started to explain.

"It's like a shrine," he started quietly. "Things like this, things that stand out in nature, are said to be places for gods and spirits. It's where they can pass back and forth from our realm and theirs, and it's where you can seek their blessing." He sounded rather reverent as he said this, carefully hushed, and the tone made her feel somewhat uneasy for reasons she didn't understand. He broke that tension just as quickly, though, turning back to her with a wide smile. "Better safe than sorry, right?"

Dinner that night consisted of rabbit and boiled potatoes, hearty if not glamorous. Elsa sat on a downed log with her legs drawn up and her bowl balanced on her knees. When she'd finished eating, she set her dish aside and stared, quiet, into the fire. Her thoughts went back to the events just prior to their meal, and she turned to Kristoff to question him as he polished off his potatoes. "How did you know about that?" she asked. "About the offering stone, I mean."

He had to swallow before answering. "I know where a bunch of them are. It just comes with knowing the territory."

While that answered what she'd asked, to a degree, it wasn't the answer she'd been looking for. She reconsidered her words and tried again. "How did you know what it meant? I don't believe many in Arendelle keep such habits, making offerings to spirits and the like. Is it something that you got from the trolls?"

"No. Not entirely." He ran his tongue over his teeth to clean them, thinking over his personal history as he seemed to do every time she'd brought the subject up. "My folks used to do it, now and again. They were holding on to old things, that's all. All things considered, I don't think it's a bad plan."

"What? Holding on to old things?"

He hummed affirmatively. "Forgetting to observe stuff like that… Well, we already talked about magic getting pushed away, didn't we? That's what this whole thing is, you know."

"Something like that, at least," she responded a little flatly. She noted to herself, not for the first time, that this whole affair was little more than acting on a mad whim. They were traveling under the influence of a question with only the hope of encountering a satisfying answer. "I'm not sure what all of this is, really. It just seems important. Does that make sense?"

"It does," he answered, face solemn in a way that conveyed his sincerity. Then he stood to start the post-dinner cleanup.

They made fairly good time through the mountains surrounding the kingdom, save for one day that had been spent moving a downed tree from their path. Even given that, reaching the region shown to Elsa in her dreams took nearly two weeks.

During mid-morning of the twelfth day, they rounded one of the side of a cliffside and found themselves looking down into a great valley. The air at this latitude was bitterly cold, and the expansive stretch of land before them was covered in an ever-present layer of snow and ice, largely devoid of any plant growth or life. It reminded Elsa of the frozen fjord, and a chill went up her spine at the thought. Beyond that oddly-smooth surface, a great mountain rose up almost abruptly. It was ancient and time-worn, obviously a shadow of its former glory but wholly impressive in what remained. The moment she saw it, she knew that it was the place she'd dreamed of. She communicated so much to Kristoff with a sure nod, and he drove the sled forward.

It took another two hours for them to navigate to the edge of the flatland, and Kristoff pulled the reins firmly as soon as they reached that point. When she fixed him with a questioning look, he shrugged and moved to exit the sled. "It's a straight shot from here," he said as he started digging through the packs behind her. "We can't just walk into the territory, though. There's a certain amount of ceremony required."

"Ceremony?" she asked, climbing from the sled herself. Absently, she stepped toward Sven, petting at his neck and muzzle. "What sort of ceremony?"

Kristoff answered while he pulled their camping supplies free. "Well, it's… According to Pabbie, they operate like a court, which doesn't mean a lot to me, but you probably understand it, being a queen and everything."

She did understand, to a degree. This was her first excursion to another court, however, and the sudden appearance of the fact brought the weight of her inexperience down upon her in the blink of an eye. She frowned at the feeling, ducking her head so that Kristoff couldn't see. He could have given her more of a heads up, she thought. As of this moment, she felt more unprepared than ever. He was right, after all. There were certain rules in these things that needed to be followed. As it was, she had no kind or symbolic gestures to present, no common policy to lead with… Nothing.

Kristoff must have picked up on her discomfort, because he tried to offer some reassurance. "Don't worry about it, alright? Pabbie gave me firm instructions. We have everything we need."

"Is that right?" she returned, immediately regretting her clipped tone. She offered him an apologetic glance. "I wish you would have mentioned it before. I feel more nervous about the whole thing now."

"Don't," he said, still attempting a soothing tone, as if the feeling was that easy to turn off.

It wasn't, and a nagging anxiety sat on her shoulders through the afternoon and into the evening. She did her best to keep it to herself, however, and if Kristoff noticed her unease, he didn't say anything. They set up camp and passed the day playing cards, folding up in one of their tents with a small, portable table between them. Kristoff didn't know many games, and, while Elsa had been teaching him those that she'd played with her father, he still wasn't particularly skilled. Near dusk, he finally gave up, sucking on his teeth in exaggerated sourness.

He lifted the tent flap, then, gauging the waning sunlight. As he helped her collect the cards, the quietly broached the subject of their visit again. "After this, we can go set up our signal. It'll let whoever's in the mountain know that we've arrived. From there, I don't really know."

"Can you venture to guess, at least?"

"Well. They'll either signal us back or send somebody. That'd be my guess."

The signal itself consisted of two strings of crystals like those the trolls wore. Kristoff pulled them from his personal pack, untangling them carefully and turning to Elsa with a short lifting of his eyebrows. Through the merit of her ice powers, they constructed something akin to a lamppost, perhaps slightly more ornate than necessary.

What happened next struck her as somewhat peculiar. After tying the crystal strings together, Kristoff held them in his cupped hands, brought them to his mouth, and whispered something to them. Slowly, starting very dim and growing brighter, the crystals began to glow. They both reacted with impressed surprise.

"I didn't know you could do anything like that," remarked Elsa as she attached the glowing crystals to the top of her ice post, balanced on one of Kristoff's broad shoulders. "Magic, I mean."

"I can't really." When he was sure everything was in place, Kristoff moved to set the queen down. "That was just something Pabbie set up. I've never been able to do anything with magic on my own."

The admission led to a discussion of magic over supper. Elsa, born with the long-thought burden of her powers, had never much stopped to consider whether such things could be taken up willingly. It was just as well. The knowledge was so hard to come by these days, harnessing any such power was rarely an opportunity that human beings encountered. When presented with such a chance, as Kristoff had been, magic still required a degree of talent. The ice harvester had possessed no such talent, and thus he remained an ice harvester.

That night, Elsa lay down musing over the world and rules of magic. She found it hard to fall asleep, and she slept fitfully. She dreamed of crossing the expanse of ice and snow before them, coming closer and closer to the opening within the mountainside, and plunging herself into the unknown world beyond.

She woke abruptly to the sound of Sven's braying. As she climbed upward into being fully alert, she was aware of movement and voices outside. Stopping short of leaving her tent to see what the fuss was, she instead stilled herself to listen.

"I'm afraid her Majesty hasn't risen yet," said Kristoff, re-adopting the awkwardly formal speech he used while at her own castle. She could picture him trying to force his posture straighter, clutching his hat in both hands.

The second voice was somewhat gravelly, coupled with a stiff, wheezy inhalation. It, too, spoke in a very polite, stiff tone. "I must apologize for arriving so early, then. Orders are orders, however. I trust my waiting here isn't out of the question."

"That won't be necessary, gentlemen," Elsa insisted, putting on her most convincing stride of confidence as she exited her tent. She faltered, though, when she first beheld their envoy.

She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. She hadn't been counting on their hosts being human, but she hadn't put much imagination into other possibilities. Perhaps she'd assumed they'd be like Kristoff's trolls, but… No. The being before them certainly shared some qualities with Pabbie's clan. It seemed earthen and stoney-skinned, but that was largely where the similarities ended. Rather than being short and squat, it was similar in proportion to a rather tall, slender man. It was masculine in appearance, too, sporting a mossy beard and clad in a tunic and trousers made from a material that she couldn't identify. Most frighteningly, somehow, was the fact that it sat astride a beast very much like a horse but also distinctly different from a horse. She was trying to make the overall vision make sense to her, unwittingly creating a silence that stretched over several seconds.

Kristoff cleared his throat and stuttered out a line of presentation. "Er… I have the honor of introducing her Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

That served to deliver Elsa back to reality and the situation at hand. She straightened her back and raised her chin, the picture of royal dignity. "A pleasure, I'm sure," she spoke to the unusual official.

He didn't seem fully impressed, but he bowed in his saddle nonetheless. "Your Majesty," he greeted, "I am Sir Einar. It is my duty to escort you to the Ancient Home and Court of King Áki."