Elsa didn’t wish to make him uncomfortable by offering him to stay within the castle walls but she really didn’t want him to have to travel far at night and if he had too much to drink that wouldn’t be a good thing either. Sipping gently on her wine, she watched him look through the forge. It only made logical sense to have it downstairs when it comes to the castle design. “My father would work beside one of the older blacksmiths to learn the art. Unfortunately he wasn’t very skilled and burnt himself numerous times when he was younger and his mother, my grandmother, banished him from the forge. One of the things that my mother had to promise my grandmother was that she’d never let my father into the forge ever after they were married. And she stayed true to that promise.” 

A small laugh left her, her voice like bells rang around through the quiet forge. She always tried to remember the good ignoring the painful memory of their loss and everything that she and Anna went through. A small shrug lifted her shoulders as she walked slowly into the room, her hand dancing along the bare wall, trails of her magic creating designs on the walls before dissipating away. Her movements were graceful and majestic; something expected of a royal but rarely seen by ‘common folk’. Her lips curled into another smile as she turned her attention from the wall and back to him, her hand dropped slowly from the wall as the last of her design appeared. “Do you specialize in swords? Your craftsmanship is extraordinary.”

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