"Pleeaaase, just one more!"

Kristoff stopped in his tracks and glanced at Sven beside him in the woods. "Fine, but this is the last one! Cliff will give us supplies, but you can't go through them on the first day like this!" He dug into his sack and gave the reindeer one of the remaining carrots. Sven chewed away at it with glee, following when Kristoff entered the trolls' lands.

"Hey everyone, I'm home!" Kristoff announced.

An instant later, the trolls showed themselves. Many of them cheered at the sight of Kristoff. Some were still shaken by the attack from the other day.

Cliff and Bulda hurried down from the caves to greet them. Kristoff crouched down to make the group hug easier. Even Sven poked his head in and licked Cliff's grassy hair. The two trolls chuckled and gave Sven affectionate rubs under the chin until they saw the look on Kristoff's face.

"What's happened?" Cliff asked.

"There was an attack at the castle."

Bulda gasped and held Kristoff's face. "The Ice Maiden?" When Kristoff nodded, she looked at Cliff.

"What is it?" Kristoff asked, all too familiar with his parents' silent conversations. He used to wonder if he'd ever be close enough with someone to speak to them with just his eyes. Sven didn't quite count.

"She came here for the mirror," Bulda explained. "What was she after at the castle?"

Kristoff stood to think about it.

The woman - if she could be called that - had simply broken into the castle with her fellow ice ladies, but for what? She hadn't taken over, so why did she bring her ice army? She'd turned one manservant into ice for getting in her way...to what? Why had she merely left after looking in the prince's guest room? Was it Prince Hans she'd been looking for? Why?

Finally, he said, "I'm not sure. Her Majesty didn't know either. It doesn't make sense."

Cliff and Bulda started sinking into yet another silent conversation, but Kristoff cleared his throat, making them snap out of it. "But that's why I'm here. I need some more answers from Grand Pabbie."

Bulda made a face.

"What?"

"Grand Pabbie's been... kind of sick. Since yesterday," Cliff explained.

"Sick? Grand Pabbie doesn't get sick!"

"It's probably just the strain he put on himself to defend us from the attack," Bulda said. She laid a reassuring hand on Kristoff's knee. But Kristoff would not relax so easily.

"Can I see him?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Cliff answered. "He couldn't sleep all last night. We only got him to go to bed at daybreak."

Kristoff looked from his father to his mother.

"It's true. Headaches, he said. Though it seemed more than that. He was confused," she said.

Confused? Kristoff thought. That didn't sound like Grand Pabbie; it sounded like an elderly human. He shook his head.

"There's more," he said. "The Ice Maiden put a curse on the queen's servant. He's been turned into an ice sculpture."

Bulda reacted first, grabbing for Cliff's hand as her eyes went wide. "Goodness gracious, the nerve...!"

"You're not just out here for answers, are you?" Cliff asked, looking up at Kristoff now with a little more understanding.

"No..." Kristoff admitted. "The Queen couldn't use her magic during the attack. We don't know where the Ice Maiden is, or what she's up to. But she's attacked twice now. I couldn't just sit around."

Bulda choked. "So what, you're going after her alone?"

"He's not alone!" Kristoff answered in his Sven voice. The reindeer nodded.

Cliff shook his head. "It's still reckless. What are you going to do if you find her?"

"I... I hadn't thought it through that far! But at least we'd be a step ahead of where we are now, not knowing anything!" he said. "Come on, you guys! DON'T go doing that thing you two do where you talk to each other mutely in front of other people and make them feel all awkward!"

Bulda and Cliff both stared at him, stunned. Kristoff guessed they had never realized it was something they did.

"We're just worried," Bulda said.

"Then let me speak to Grand Pabbie! He's the only one who knows anything about the ice witch."

He cringed at the silent hesitation that followed. Bulda gave Kristoff her famous, stubborn frown; it was a face he had seen many times as a boy whenever he wouldn't listen. Cliff just looked away as Sven nuzzled up to him, obviously trying to win him over on Kristoff's behalf.

"Fine. But don't get him all worked up," Cliff warned.

Kristoff sighed. "I promise not to get him all worked up."

"You don't have to get so worked up about it."

They had found their way back to the main road to Arendelle. A couple of hours of awkwardly silent trekking put them through the tree line and descending the hills down to Arendelle.

"Worked up?!" Anna said. "We're talking about very delicate relations here. If we don't think this out properly, it could start a war."

"Here I had you pegged as annoyingly optimistic," Hans remarked. "Would you relax? You're just stressing yourself out."

"I don't exactly have any experience with this! And I don't trust you farther than I can throw you!"

Hans actually paused at that. Anna looked on wistfully at the castle in the distance. They were so close. Too close. They had to have a plan before they spoke with the king.

"You don't trust me even after last night?" he asked her.

His words gripped her much harder than she was prepared for. Anna looked away from him, her cheeks growing hot over the memory. After the initial debate over which way they would face, Hans had turned his back toward her and let her lie behind him. Initially, that had been fine. He'd had to reach for her hand to draw her arm over him ("You won't get enough warmth otherwise!") and then there was the matter of her chest on his back. She'd warmed up eventually, but for those first few minutes, she'd been mortified by the effects of chilly air. She had had a hard time falling asleep too. Not Hans, though. Unless he'd pretended to sleep. She remembered him turning back toward her, deaf to her questioning as he pulled her into his chest and rested his chin atop her head. She'd been sure she wouldn't get any sleep after he slid one of his legs over hers. But it had been so … cozy; his chest, while firm, had made a nice, warm pillow. His heartbeat was the last thing she remembered before falling asleep that night.

The night could have gone a lot of different ways. But it struck her that Hans hadn't even tried to take advantage. She supposed it could be that she just wasn't attractive to him.

Elsa was preferable, of course.

"Shut up!" Anna said, unsure as to whether she was talking to Hans or her own brain. She forced herself to think of her little ducklings back at home. Then she thought of her sister. Finally, she thought of Kristoff. Kristoff! What would he think of her if he ever learned about last night?

Well, he's not going to, she determined.

Hans sighed. "I guess that's all the answer I need," he said. "Fine. What kind of plan do you think we need?"

Anna glanced at him. Was it just her imagination or did he look hurt?

Sven stayed behind to play with the young trolls when Cliff and Bulda led Kristoff to Grand Pabbie's cave overlooking the valley. Before they left him there, they admonished him once more against upsetting Grand Pabbie in his current state. When they were gone, he admired the countless crystals suspended from the cave ceiling, all representative of the magic Grand Pabbie had mastered in his lifetime. Most trolls completed their studies after mastering the basic elements: fire, water, earth and air. A few gifted individuals could go on to hybrid studies. For example, fire and earth made magic like volcano and earthquakes. Water and air created snow and cyclones. The opposing elements refused to work together; fire and water, earth and air. But there were other elements to make up for that: lightning, shadow, light, healing, toxin. The rarest magic was known to few, but Kristoff was aware certain elements were forbidden. It all made his head spin, but he had had to learn all about it growing up anyway. Bulda had insisted that he learn with all the other troll children even if he himself could never use crystals.

He finally took his eyes away from the ceiling and looked at the resting figure across the room. Grand Pabbie lied on a bed of moss and grass, propped up by a rock barely larger than his head. As Kristoff approached, he was relieved to see the elder's chest rise and fall. Bulda and Cliff had made his condition sound so severe that Kristoff hadn't known what to expect.

"Grand Pabbie?" Kristoff said, kneeling down beside the sleeping troll. "It's Kristoff…"

Grand Pabbie let out a little snore that made Kristoff grin. The grin subsided almost immediately when he realized how worried the troll looked even in deep sleep.

"Hey," Kristoff said, gently poking Grand Pabbie. The troll's eyes shot open and he leapt up with a shout. "Whoa! Whoa, sorry! It's Kristoff, it's just me! Hi!"

Grand Pabbie looked wildly about the cave until his eyes rested on Kristoff. Then he calmed a little, though his breathing was heavy.

"Kristoff… you're back," the troll said with a tired smile.

"The others told me you haven't been feeling well."

Grand Pabbie merely shrugged and climbed out of bed. "It's my age, you know. Don't ever grow old."

"How old are you exactly?" Kristoff winced when Grand Pabbie raised an eyebrow at him. He should have known it was not polite to ask.

"Older than the rest. I've seen a lot," Grand Pabbie said. "You didn't come to inquire about my age though."

Kristoff sighed. "If you're not well, it can wait. Just not for long."

"Better we just talk now then," Grand Pabbie decided. He lifted a little rock bowl from the floor next to his bed and sipped from it. "Things keep changing." He wiggled his fingers over his head.

"Huh?"

"Never mind that yet. Just tell me what's happened."

Kristoff swallowed back his concern for the moment and talked about the attack at the castle. Grand Pabbie stopped him after he described what had happened to Kai.

"This is worse than I thought."

"Yeah, it's pretty bad. But what did you mean by things keep changing?" Kristoff asked, unable to help asking.

Grand Pabbie narrowed his eyes and gazed at the floor, shrugging as if he himself did not know why he'd said it. "It started a couple of nights ago. I mentioned my age before because that's the only thing I can think of. We trolls do live a long time, but age eventually affects us much the same way it affects anyone else."

Kristoff frowned. "Are you trying to tell me you're senile?"

Grand Pabbie chuckled at that. "Could be. In any case, my memories are… changing. I'm forgetting some things and remembering things I didn't know I knew." He looked over at Kristoff. "I can see this disturbs you, so let us return to the topic of the attack, shall we?" Grand Pabbie walked to a bookshelf built into the left cave wall. There he brushed his hand over the various scrolls and books within, searching. "She used ice magic… and transformative magic. She must be very powerful. Perhaps more powerful than Queen Elsa."

Kristoff gulped. That was not something he expected to hear. "I did come here for hope, you know."

"Yes. Hope is not yet lost," Grand Pabbie murmured, pulling out a single piece of parchment from the shelf. He handed it to Kristoff.

Kristoff looked down at the faded, worn paper in his hands. He could barely make out the writing, but there was no mistaking that it had been torn from someplace, possibly an actual book. The drawing on it startled him.

"This is her," Kristoff said, pointing at the woman on the paper. "The Ice Maiden. What is this? Why do you have it?"

"I didn't know I had it until today," Grand Pabbie replied, his brow crinkling. Kristoff felt a pang of guilt as he watched the elder stir in confusion. "Someone gave it to me… long ago."

"But she looks exactly the same," Kristoff said. He glanced down at the drawing again. "She couldn't be much older than myself."

Grand Pabbie shook his head. "You must stop thinking of her as a normal human."

"Then what is she?" Kristoff asked.

The troll shook his head. "That I don't know. I wish I had more answers for you, my boy."

Kristoff could see the elder was growing upset, so he refrained from saying any more. Instead he sighed quietly and plopped down on the cold cave floor, staring at the drawing of the Ice Maiden. Time and elements had nearly erased it from the page. He could make out certain words in the writing—'ice creatures, immunity'—but for the most part, it was smudged and faded.

"Hope is not yet lost," Grand Pabbie repeated. Kristoff glanced at him.

"The queen could not use her magic against this… Ice Maiden," Kristoff said. "We know nothing about her. What kind of hope is that?"

Grand Pabbie contemplated the new information before he spoke again. "You know that she is immortal. You know that she is looking for truth mirrors. You know what she is willing to do to get what she wants. What's more, she's been cursed with her power. Someone like that has a story. When you have the story, all else will be revealed."

"But you're the eldest here. If anyone was going to know her story, it would have been you," Kristoff said, growing exasperated. No matter what Grand Pabbie said about hope, things were looking more and more hopeless.

Grand Pabbie laughed. "Did you think I'm the only old, magical thing in these parts?"

Kristoff's eyes grew. He had never thought about that. "You mean...?"

"Tell me this. What is your grand plan once you find this Ice Maiden?"

"I'm not foolish enough to think I could defeat her myself," Kristoff said quickly, blushing in embarrassment. He knew his own limits. He had seen what the Ice Maiden could do. "But if I knew her whereabouts… if I knew more about her, I could pass the information on to Queen Elsa."

"For the queen to defeat the Ice Maiden?" Grand Pabbie asked. Kristoff nodded. "Are you sure you want to do this? Go looking for the Ice Maiden and her story?" Kristoff nodded again. What part didn't Grand Pabbie understand?

Beneath the bookshelf in the wall was a trunk. Grand Pabbie knocked on the top of the trunk now and then punched the keyhole at the front. Kristoff jumped, wondering what on earth the troll was up to now.

Grand Pabbie said nothing as he opened the trunk and sifted through its contents. He threw items aside that were in his way; glittering socks, a ring of rusty keys, several hats, an arrow, silver coins the size of Kristof's hand, a ball of yarn. Kristoff's jaw dropped as Grand Pabbie kept removing items. It seemed like there was more in the trunk than should have been possible. Next he saw little reindeer figurines, a pair of skates, a cat-doll in a dress, a saw, a bundle of flowers and a hen that ran about the floor clucking as soon as it was released.

"What the—?"

"Here we are!" Grand Pabbie exclaimed. "Ah, and this too!" He turned around, beaming.

Kristoff almost fell over. Was the old troll completely out of his mind? Why did he keep so much in one trunk? How long had the chicken been living in there?! Perhaps equally disturbing was the look of pride on Grand Pabbie's face as he held a purple carrot out in one hand and a pair of red leather boots in the other.

"Now this," Grand Pabbie indicated the carrot, "Is only to be used in a dire time of need. Do you understand me?"

Kristoff stared blankly, not uttering a word.

"Nod or shake your head, do you understand?" Grand Pabbie asked again.

Kristoff nodded, trying not to ask what was so special about a carrot. True, Kristoff was more accustomed to feeding Sven orange carrots, but purple carrots were common enough.

"Now these," Grand Pabbie continued, wiggling the boots in his other hand. "You can use whenever. Just never get them wet or they will cease working, do you understand? Nod or shake."

"What do they do?" Kristoff asked, growing impatient with how cryptic Grand Pabbie was being.

"These are flight boots. They do what you'd think they do," Grand Pabbie answered.

"Ah."

Grand Pabbie thrust the carrot and the boots into Kristoff's arms and then gave him a hug quite fierce for someone so small.

"I am doing this because we trolls are sworn to help those in need. But I do worry about you. Be careful!"

Kristoff nodded and looked down at the items Grand Pabbie had given to him. Flight boots could come in handy, he thought. But what was with the carrot?

"This carrot—"

"Ahh!" Grand Pabbie hissed and held the side of his head, turning away from Kristoff.

"Grand Pabbie! Are you all right?!" Kristoff leaned over him, unsure whether to touch the troll's shoulder or not. Grand Pabbie shuddered and shook, grabbing onto his bed as he groaned.

"It's just another headache." Grand Pabbie groaned. "Go on, my boy. You'll be fine." He didn't look at Kristoff as he said it. Instead the elder climbed back into bed and laid his head against his rock-pillow.

Kristoff frowned, vaguely aware of the clucking from the chicken that had made itself comfortable in a dark corner. "Do you want me to get someone? Do you need anything?"

"Go on now. I'll be fine."

Kristoff hesitated. He didn't want to leave Grand Pabbie alone like this. But the troll seemed determined to be left alone. Again he looked down at the gifts given to him.

"Thank you," he said. It took a lot out of him to leave. Something was going on with Grand Pabbie, more than he was letting on. But it seemed out of Kristoff's hands or ability to assist. He sighed one last time, worrying over Grand Pabbie as he turned to leave. He tucked the boots under one arm and hid the carrot away in the sack, making a mental note not to let Sven eat it.

They'd bickered about it all the way through town, stopping only for Hans to sign autographs at each corner. Anna wanted to do all the talking. No, Hans argued. That didn't make sense. The king had requested aid from the troll hunter, not the troll hunter's sister. In the end, Anna only relented because Hans agreed to allow her input when he spoke with the king.

Hans waved at the guards posted at the castle gate. Anna was not surprised when they did not return his greeting. Neither one of them expected to be seized as soon as they crossed the bridge to the castle, however. Nor did they expect to be bound and dragged before the king like criminals.

The guards pushed through the crowd gathered in the Great Hall and set the 'siblings' on their knees before the king. Anna noticed one man step forth from the crowd—bulkier than Hans, though not quite as buff as Kristoff. The man had dark, shaggy hair and looked in need of a shave. But Anna hardly got a good look at his face before the man stepped up to face the king and queen with his back to the audience.

"Mister Hans. Miss Anna," the king addressed them.

"Oh no," Anna heard from Hans. He was looking at the man standing between them and the king.

"Allow me to introduce to you the real troll hunter of Grimmstad."