Duskfire Glacier testing my patience

i know, faust murmured, voice low, raw. i have been angry too. for a long time.
his breath was slow, controlled, but inside him, something cracked. he could hear the way her voice wavered, could feel the way her body shook beneath the weight of emotions neither of them had ever learned how to carry.
her tears—svalla’s tears—fell, real, unchecked. something he had never seen from her before. something he never thought he would.
and it did not make her weak.
it made her real.
he let her lean into him, let their foreheads rest together, let her feel him there. not as baskaan, not as the leader of darukaal, but as faust. the boy she had once known. the man he had become.
his muzzle brushed hers, soft, grounding, a silent reassurance.
you are svalla sundén, he said, quiet but firm, white sparrow of hrafnvaengr. and that will never change.
no matter what had happened. no matter how the years had pulled them apart, reshaped them, turned them into something unfamiliar.
you may fuck who you please.
the words were an effort, a lie he wanted to believe. his throat tightened, his jaw clenched—but he forced himself to say them.
but it must be within this glacier or a bastard with no claim.
because it wasn’t about jealousy. it was about loyalty. about what they were trying to build. about keeping her safe, about keeping darukaal from shattering under the weight of reckless choices.
his chest rose and fell beneath her, his warmth steady against hers. he let silence stretch between them, let her breathe, let her grieve.