Bragi laughed, and winced a tiny bit at the corners of his mouth as the ice in his lungs splintered into them. “I don't know,” Bragi said, “Heimdall hasn't ever been given the chance to work a crowd. He could be better for all I know. He has a very unique brand of charm. But he does have that terrible habit of making stories into sentences instead of sentences into stories. I think this one needs more than a sentence” To be fair, a part of Heimdall not telling that story, might be grief related, but Bragi wasn't thinking about that. They were going to get out of there. Talking helped. He didn't feel like his mind was drifting away as much when he was focusing on talking. Bragi's brain was slowing. He was used to thinking about multiple things at once. He could still see the invisible strings that were connecting everything, but Bragi couldn't follow them. He got lost. He couldn't find what string he was on. Bragi never wanted to be this cold again.
It made him want to hang up music and poetry and become a warrior as soon as they got home. Bragi could learn. Sort of. But the thought of warrioring, even slowed, even under all that snow, made Bragi blanch. His cracked, dry throat swallowed. They just couldn't die. That was the bottom line. He and Idun just couldn't ever die. They couldn't go back there. They just couldn't. His mind was lost down that path for awhile, but Idun's smile pulled him out. If he could only focus on one thing until they thawed, he wanted that thing to be her. Bragi smiled at her, and thought about her. “I'll be the one to tell it,” Bragi promised. “At least the first time. You know how legends are.” He loved her. He'd thought she was a legend, even before. Now she just had one more story.
While they walked, Bragi paid very close attention to her withering glare lesson. It kept making him laugh, and Idun had to remind him how serious this was, but he tried his best. He narrowed his eyes, and furrowed his brow. He managed it better with frozen features, but it still ended up a pathetic attempt. Bragi couldn't pull off a withering glare. It was more laughable than withering. Still, he tried to apply himself. This would have been a good time for him to teach Idun more music too, if Bragi hadn't left his harp back there. They were just cold enough that they could actually be seriously devoted to not being distracted. Oh well. He definitely wasn't going to go back for it.
They kept walking, and eventually Bragi's heart started beating at a more usual pace, and feeling slowly started coming back in the tips of his fingers. He followed the strings, and he heard sound, and he kept Idun's attention to make absolutely sure that she was safe. Then he started keeping it just because he wanted to. He kept it because he could finally sing to her without his heart breaking. White had turned to night, but Idun didn't notice. By the time she had chanced a glance, Bragi had already carried her over the rainbow bridge. He looked with her and saw the branches of their trees come into view. He smiled at her, while his hand found the door to their hall and swung it open.
“I think so too,” Bragi said. He gently set her on the couch in their living room. "I'll go get blankets. Then get a fire going. Stay right there." They were home.