Duskfire Glacier testing my patience

he exhaled.
a slow, measured thing. something meant to steady him, to quiet the war in his chest, the weight of what had passed, what had yet to come.
but then she smiled—soft, sad, the kind of thing that had always been meant for him, even when she had sworn she hated him.
and he could breathe again.
his green eyes held her own, and there was something different there now, something raw, something aching but not broken. not anymore. she had been lost. she had been blind. but now she stood before him, whole.
svalla sundén. white sparrow of hrafnvaengr.
he had not realized how much he had missed saying her name, had missed knowing who she was—not just the wildfire woman who raged against the world, but the girl he had always known. the girl she was finally ready to be again.
but faust had always known her. always.
[inent]her gratitude settled between them, warm, fragile, something he would tuck away where no one else could touch it.
her snort broke the moment, and his lip curled in something almost like amusement, the ghost of something lighter pressing at the edges of his features.
he huffed, shaking his head, but he did not argue. he had been many things. fool included. but she had always been his greatest mistake and his greatest triumph.
"i will fix the mess i made."
a promise.
one he believed.
because svalla was many things, but she had never been a liar.
he did not speak, only watched as something unspoken passed between them—something old and sacred, something that did not need words.
and then she smiled again. brighter this time, more like her.
he scoffed, but it was a quiet thing. softer. fond.
then you’ve always been smarter than me.