“I'll hold you to that,” Bragi warned her, “I seriously will. Possibly get it in writing. No spying on dead people or freezing forever. The standard agreement.” Bragi had the urge to put his head on her shoulder, but he didn't. After all of those days, he was finally colder than she was. He didn't want to risk breaking her promise so soon. He just wanted to get her far away from that place and take her home and put her in bed and pile all the blankets they had on her, and all the neighbors blankets, and build a fire, and get some food into her. She looked so much thinner than she should. And dreadfully pallid. The coloring wasn't right yet. He would try his hand at cooking so she didn't starve anymore. She'd been starving for too long. He could probably handle soup or something. Or find someone else who could actually cook so that she really didn't starve anymore. But she wasn't allowed to get out of that bed until she'd proven she'd recovered. It was still winter, even in Asgard. She'd committed to coming back. It was too late for her to change her mind.
They were so close that all Bragi could see was her face. Her beautiful, cold but alive face. It was the only thing he wanted to see there anyway. One hand was around her back, the other was on the back of her head. He could feel it move beneath his glove and beneath the hood. But then she started speaking and he frowned a little too even though he didn't want to. He'd been so worried he'd lost her, and now he hadn't, and there was such wonderful wonderful promise in that. They had a whole future after all, and that wasn't something Bragi had known a few moments ago. He didn't want to frown, he just wanted to smile, and keep looking at her until it was time to take her back to their hall. They'd just built it, and Bragi still got a slight thrill out of the way the 'their' sounded. But she was talking about before now. Before they hadn't been in quite such a good place. Bragi didn't want her to go back there either. He remembered some of the things she didn't.
“You were all those things” Bragi said. As soon as their lips pulled away. He dropped eye contact, but then picked it up again. He hadn't had it in too long. His hand curled on the hood. “We'd just had our first fight," he said. His tone was soft, almost reluctant. He'd go where she was, but he wished she wouldn't choose such unpleasant places. He wasn't sure what she did and did not remember. “Then you left. Then you fell.” He kissed her back gently.
“It looked like a bad walking nightmare. I'm so sorry you fell.” It was his fault in a way. If they hadn't gotten into that fight, she wouldn't have left. If she didn't leave, she wouldn't have fallen. “I'm just glad you woke up. I didn't mean to make you leave. I just don't have being a husband down right yet either. I don't know where you would have gone if you hadn't fallen. I don't know where you were planning to go.” If she had been leaving, even if she remembered that she had, it wouldn't have been the end of them. That was something Bragi knew. He wouldn't have let that be the end of them. "But you still weren't lost. You're my wife. The best one I've ever had." He smiled a little deviously at the last line, but then his tone shifted. It got the weight back in it. "I couldn't just lose you that easily. Even if you didn't fall."