"Me? Oh," she chuckles, a little self-consciously. "I'm from a place called Arendelle. It's in the north... green in the summer and cold in the winter. We have heavily forested mountains, farms on cleared land... it was summer when I woke up here, so I suppose it must be fall there now. It would be getting cold."

They'd be preparing for the harvest, and wondering where the queen had run off to this time. Maybe they would have gone looking for her; maybe they would think that she had deserted them. This fear had come up persistently in the months that she'd been on the ship.

It would be bad manners to fall into a reverie in the middle of a conversation, she realizes.

"The Shire sounds lovely. What did you do there?"