"I spoke to him."
She whips her head around to look at him, eyes wide in shock. It is a striking expression on her, he thinks. Within moments, however, the mask is back, and she looks at him through a veil of calmness.
"Don't worry, I have ensured that your future brother-in-law does not hurt you. Not on account of anything I said, at least."
He sees the relief flicker briefly across her eyes, before she turns away.
"You are not to..." she begins, but pauses after a moment.
"Take such steps without your explicit consent?" he finishes for her, and she nods slightly, almost as if she is displeased by his ability to do so.
He smiles in assent. "It won't happen again. I was only trying to make sure you would be safe lest the man tried anything...unusual." He wonders how much of that statement was true. "And Anna's too, of course." A part of him reminds if would be incorrect to not include the younger sister, even if she is little more than an afterthought.
"It is...appreciated. However, it was really quite pointless of you to do so."
The words surprise him, and for a moment he wonders if she has seen through his facade after all. then, he remembers the stories he has heard, and a different explanation creeps into his mind.
"The trolls?"
"Yes."
The single word is tinged with far too many emotions that suddenly strike him. He places his hand on her shoulder, and icy blue eyes bore into his own. He feels the cold, even through the thin layers of fabric of her dress and his own gloves.
There are tears in her eyes, he realises with a start. She is scared, and she has no one to turn to. Except him. And the depth of her trust in him hits him like a blow, knocking the wind out of him. His own scarring memories, all the years of being the hated one, the unlucky one, the one who was never good enough, whirl around him and overwhelm him like the snowstorm on the fjords, long ago which had almost destroyed her.
Perhaps it is the sudden want, no, need, for comfort and company. Perhaps it is the overhanging threat of the trolls. Perhaps it is gratitude. Perhaps it is misery. he doesn't know. he doesn't care. he is only acutely aware of the almost-magnetic force that pulls them together until his burning lips are on her frosty ones.