Kristoff had never really been one for weapons, at least not the kind you heard about in the epics. Swords, bows, axes, spears, he didn't need any of them.

Still, that didn't mean he never fought. He fought all the time.

More than a few people had taken exception over the years to the quiet kid in the corner who preferred the company of trolls to people. In summer, when the ice was being harvested, his team had his back. You couldn't even think of stepping out on the ice if there was any tension in the ranks.

But the rest of the time, his own fists had to serve to keep certain crowds away.

He was damn good with his fists, too. Tall, broad, and strong as an ox, he had a lot of power to put behind his punches.

For most of his life, it was good enough.

Then he met Anna and things happened and he somehow ended up as Lord Commander and he needed an actual, suitably impressive weapon. And no, his ice pick didn't count.

He a few hours the next day in the Armory, trying every single weapon. Most of them, he hated. He was a man of precision when he needed to be, but as far as he was concerned, a fight was no place for delicate maneuvering.

The only weapon that felt right in his hands was the battle axe. It was a heavier tool than he was used to, but hardly a burden compared to the massive blocks of ice he hauled around all the time. Besides, it was the closest thing to his ice pick he could find.

He still wished he could return to his bare fists, but if he had to choose, the axe was better than nothing.