You belong to me,
My snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.
Soon I know you'll see,
You're just like me.
Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you.

The first time Ivan had seen her, he had fallen in love. Perhaps he was like his sister, but he knew he would do anything in his power to make the woman happy. Ever since he had been born, he would cling to her. For strength, for comfort, for anything his sisters couldn't give him. His beautiful lady draped in white. She lived, now, in a brilliant castle he had built for her and only her, in the arctic beauty of Россиа. It was as cold as the ice itself on the inside. She had never needed a fire. The palace itself had been carved from ice and all the furniture inside was made of a beautiful chrome, to accent the almost blue foundations. He had carved it with his own hands, so determined to give back what she had given him. The comforts of love and hope and home. This was the best he'd manage and he was now walking through the frozen halls, the spikes on his boots keeping him from slipping on the floor. The entire palace reminds him of Россиа, in all of it's vast, frozen glory, and he smiles almost sadly, running a hand over the wall. The wall he had carved. It was the only piece of art he had ever been proud of. Because of the smile on her normally frozen, dulled expression. She had been here far longer than he had. She had been there since his birth. His first memory of her was when his first caretaker had abandoned him, and she had found him in the frozen wilderness. He remembered first looking into her cool blue violet eyes and at her long, silky thin wheat blond hair that blew about in the frigid breeze. The first words he had said to her, in all of his childish innocence, was that she was beautiful. She had smiled, softly, and kissed his cold flushed cheeks. Placing her own fur cap on his little head, she spoke to him.
"Hello, Ivan," she had greeted him and he had felt tears in his eyes. She had given him a real name. Something he could permanently cherish, for all of his life. She had also given him her love. This woman, who looked so much like himself. He was treated as the needy, helpless child he really was while he was around her. He walked into her inner chambers and knocked, like a gentleman, three times. Her beautiful, windy voice called to him, telling him to enter. She sat on a hand crafted throne in the center of the wall opposite, draped in the white furs he had made for her. One her feet she wore white leather and she was sitting with her knees crossed. One of the thinner furs was draped over her head, to keep her ears and neck warm, and her muff was made of a beautiful silver arctic fox's fur. Beneath all of this would be a white lace dress. He approached, kneeling and taking her soft, gloved hands in his own, kissing them. She left him to rest his head on her knees, stroking his hair and his face.
"I'm here now," she comforts, knowing how troubled his life has always been. "And I am yours." She leaned forward, kissing his tears away. He straightens up, to lean towards her kisses, and touches her face.

I can't save your life,
Though nothing I bleed for is more tormenting.
I'm losing my mind and you just stand there and stare as my world divides.

She has always been colder than him. Her frigid lips touch his, as he nuzzles against her face. Colder and more sad than he ever has been. She was here long before him, and knows the dangers and torments of living in this place. Again and again their lips brush, until neither of them were as cold any longer.
"I love you," he whispers to her, standing and kissing her beautiful hands once again. "More than the world." And she knows how much that means, coming from him. She knows he has said this countless of times, to countless others, but to her, it will always mean more. Much more, because no matter what he will always mean it.
"And I love you," she returns, her cold eyes warming just a bit.

You belong to me,
My snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.
Soon I know you'll see,
You're just like me.
Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you.

She has always been this beautifully cold. Always, since the days she was able to lift him into her arms. Now, it is him who lifts her into his and carries her away. Her room is furnished in the same fashion as the rest of the ice palace, all except the bed. It's hanging, sheets, and pillows are all a deep scarlet red. It was here that their ideals were conceived. He lays her on the bed and kisses her again and again. It is the moments afterward, when they are lying skin bare to the other, warm, that he cries again. She kisses each and every one of his scars and all the abuse seems to melt away, as she cradles him to her chest. She tells him it will be okay, that she will always be with him. Because no matter what happens... Even if the ice melts to nothing, even if the world is destroyed...

He will always have his mother. His motherland. His everything. And that is exactly how it should be.