"…Kristoff? What did you do to your hair?"
"I… well, I… uh… I just… wanted to look… you know. More presentable. And stuff."
"You know. For… the wedding."
"*facepalm* The, uh, wedding that I… would like to happen. Not with you, I mean, that’s not… not that you’re not… but… with Anna. I would like to. I mean… if you would like to. Like us. You know."
"…Kristoff, are you asking for my sister’s hand?"
"…yeah. I mean, yes. Kind of. Yes. I think?"
"That sounds very self-assured."
"Okay, yes. And I’ve never done this before, okay, and you’re the queen and I know you want better for your sister than some scruffy…"
"Yes, you have my permission to ask Anna to marry you."
"Oh. *beat* Was it the hair?"
"No. It’s the fact that you love my sister and respect her, and I trust you to do so for the rest of your days together."
"*blushes, looks away* …thank you. Elsa."
"…I can’t guarantee that she won’t laugh at the hair, though."
"…yeah, that may not have been the best idea."
"You’ll have a long time to make it up to her."
"Yeah, yeah. Want to give Sven a carrot?"
"Sure. Just don’t expect me to share it with him."