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Ichabod has never been particularly enamored of Christmas, which seems to be a larger-scaled affair in the hotel than he had ever experienced in his own Sleepy Hollow of two centuries prior. There were decorations aplenty, including the very German tradition of erecting a large fir tree in the midst of one's home and decorating it with little tokens and trifles. Ichabod thought this served only to get sap all over one's floors but it seems to have stuck with the people of the modern era, judging by the tree currently taking up residence in the entry hall.

A trip outside to see the gardens provides a bit of a respite from all the frippery of Christmas decorations and after a lengthy walk and a good amount of fresh air, Ichabod feels he is prepared enough to endure the onslaught once again. One of the things he recognizes upon entering is mistletoe, that bane of pretty housemaids everywhere, and he stifles a chuckle. He is not be getting caught unawares beneath it, vile weed, and pities anyone who does.

He supposes that he would be less melancholy if he had someone to indulge him in these holiday traditions, be that his beloved Katrina or even the company of Lieutenant Mills but the hotel provides no such company for him. He only knows Miss Smoak, charming girl that she is, and it is hard to feel festive and full of good cheer when he's so alone.

Still, he has enough coin to purchase a drink and he does, a thick dark ale that is the closest approximation to beer from back in his own era. It's not quite the same, but it will suffice, and hopefully it will bring warmth to his limbs and lightness to his heart.

[[Find Ichabod at the bar, being surly about Christmas.]]

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Elsa returns the gesture, a trained and graceful nod of the head.

"Elsa. It's nice to meet you."

"Elsa. Does your family hail from Germany, then?" Ichabod knows a great many German immigrants whose names are remarkably similar. In his own Sleepy Hollow, it isn't terribly uncommon to see children named Elsa and Annika and Katrina.

"I know a bit of German, actually, I studied it along with several other languages before coming here."

"Arendelle," she replies, shaking her head. She doesn't think she even knows where Germany is.

"The closest kingdom is Corona, if that helps at all."

Neither are sovereignties that Ichabod recognizes but this isn't terribly surprising of late. Many of the maps have changed since his era and while the land is older than him, the names are often new.

"No, neither are familiar to me. Describe it for me? Perhaps it goes by a different name for me."

"Well, it's surrounded by mountains on three sides, and then fjords on the other one. That's our trading port."

She sighs, watching ice form across the surface of her mulled wine. "It has beautiful summers."

"It sounds absolutely beautiful," Ichabod says, trying to imagine such a place. It sounds like some of the countries in Europe that he's toured but that feels like an age ago.

"What sort of government? A monarchy?"

"A monarchy. A queen," Elsa clarifies. "She was just crowned."

And then she'd run away, knowing for certain now that she'd never be able to rule Arendelle right.

"Ah, a long dynasty, then? Or is this a new development in your country?"

The inner workings of politics have always been of interest to Ichabod and hearing this girl's stories of how her country works are better than dwelling on his own problems.

"Pretty long, my–they've been ruling for around two hundred years." It's not as long as some dynasties, but it's not nothing, even if she's possibly about to come crashing down.

"England has a long dynasty as well. We had several excessively powerful queens before stabling out," Ichabod says, rapturous as he recalls the history. History is something that always makes him feel a bit more in his element, especially in a modern place like the hotel. "We currently have King George."

The way he smiles, all caught up in something that clearly interests him, brings a small smile to Elsa's face. She pushes her thawing drink aside to listen, not realizing that with her concentration (and worries) elsewhere, she's stopped casting ice on the counter.

"What's King George like? I never got to travel very much."

"I haven't met him personally," Ichabod admits, "But he's done a great deal to expand England's presence around the world. There's the colonies in America, of course, and there's been colonies in Africa and India as well. I couldn't imagine being the king. It's a long, hard job learning how to balance an entire country upon one's shoulders."

"Yes," Elsa agrees, sadness touching upon her features again. "It's very hard, making sure that you've done right by everyone. Even if you have to give up everything for yourself."

She doesn't realize she's forgotten to pretend only a distanced knowledge.

"A very noble sacrifice, to give oneself up for one's country. I joined our military but defected when I no longer agreed with the cause." Ichabod shakes his head slightly.

"Harder to do that when one is the king."

"But they can still try."

Elsa looks at her hands now, nervously aware of the ice she's beginning to spread.

"They can. You speak as if you know this intimately," Ichabod says gently. "Are you familiar with such sacrifices in your own life?"

Elsa startles, realizing her mistake, and then she nods quietly.

"I..wasn't totally honest," she says, voice low.

"I'm Elsa. Queen of Arendelle."

"Ah, so you do know firsthand. My apologies, your majesty, for not affording you the respect your position demands."

Ichabod is nothing if not well-mannered and he hopes the queen can forgive this gaffe.

"Oh no! Oh please don't!" Elsa says, jumping to her feet nervously. In doing so, her powers spike and ice scatters up around her like a fence and shield.

"I don't deserve that kind of thing..."

The ice is unusual. Ichabod doesn't back away, though, and touches it lightly in investigation.

"How did you do such a thing? What magic is this?"

"I was born with it," Elsa explains, looking away sadly. "I've never been able to control it, not really."

She doesn't call it a curse, but the implication lingers in the air.

"I was...am, technically, married to a witch but this seems different than her magic," Ichabod says, still examining the ice.

"How curious."

"I-I'm not a witch," Elsa protests nervously. "Please, I don't mean to hurt people. Really I don't."

"Witches are good things," Ichabod assures her. "At least in my experience. Knowing how to affect the natural world with one's talents is admirable, not frightening."

Elsa looks at him, surprised. Even after all the time she's spent at this hotel, his reassurance and total lack of fear surprise her.

She thinks she could get used to that surprise.

"No one's ever called this a good thing before."

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