Sverre himself does not particularly seem to have issues with corpses, at least what few of them he runs into while continuing to explore the chamber that had not been the target of the necromancer's ministrations and therefore did not crumble to dust.

There are treasures to be pillaged! The necromancer seems to have had a stash of neatly labelled potions (that she never got the chance to use), and there are a number of gold coins and some jewelry remaining from the now dusted undead, along with their much less valuable weapons. Presumably any of the ones still sealed in their alcoves might have similar trinkets, but it's up to him if he'd like to properly grave rob instead of just picking through the bits the disturbed dead have left behind. In a corner, there's an old chest that looks like it got dragged out of its hiding space in the hopes of prying it open. The lock is a bit melted, but mmmmmostly intact, so clearly she was unsuccessful.

He does not want to graverob, especially not the undisturbed weapons of his ancestors, that would be intensely disrespectful, but the old chest looks promising! Is the lock intact enough for him to pick it? If so he's gonna do that.

It's a bit tricky, but the melted nature of the lock is mostly cosmetic external damage. The pins inside are fine, so with a little finagling and patience...

Click!

The chest's contents are free for the taking. Inside is a necklace with a large blocky pendant carved from bone, several gold coins that predate the Imperial Septim but are definitely true gold, a couple of books that look like they might fall apart if sneezed on too hard, and a small dagger with a blade that looks like it could be made out of ice, but for the weight and the way it's kept an edge after all this time.

!

!!!!!!!!!!!

Sverre slowly reaches inside it, reverently, a look of pure awe on his face as he gingerly takes the dagger in both hands, being very very careful of the edge. He'd normally use a thumb to do a quick test of the sharpness by scraping it perpendicularly to the actual blade but he doesn't need to, here, he can just see how fine the edge is.

He might need to stare at it for a while in mute dumbstruck contemplation.

It's heavier than ice would be, but lighter than steel. There are little chinks in the pale blue translucent surface, like it was carved from something instead of forged. If there's a matching sheath for it, it isn't in this box, but this doesn't seem to have done the strange blade any harm.

...he looks like he might cry.

Eventually, someone notices.

"... Are you okay?" she asks, looking concerned.

"Yes," he says, sounding a bit choked up. "This, this—" He stops himself then turns to look at her, lifting the dagger up in her direction so she can see. "Look at it," he says in a desperate whisper.

She steps over to inspect, and her eyebrows raise.

".... I... have no idea what that is. I mean, besides a treasure, and also a dagger, obviously, um. It's not enchanted. But what is that blade made of...?"

Ivethene's polite enough to keep some kind of lid on the obvious desire to study it, because she has literally any social awareness and he clearly is going to be keeping this dagger, but. ... It's definitely in her expression. What is it, can she figure it out, she wants to know.

"I don't know," he says, still in half a whisper. "I have never seen something so, so beautiful in my life." He turns his gaze to her, properly, now. "How long has it been here, without losing its edge to rust or, or anything? You can see the craftsmanship, and this material is just, just, what even is it, can you imagine other weapons made of this, can you imagine arrowheads made of this—" He needs to stop himself again before he makes himself cry.

"It'd be excellent indeed, I wonder why the craft fell out of favor. May I? I'll return it to you unharmed, I just want to look a bit closer."

He nods mutely and holds it by the blade to offer her the hilt, still being careful but the kind of careful who knows how to handle sharp things.

She very carefully takes it and looks it over, with more than just her eyes.

".... It's like ice, if ice were made out of diamond. It is, actually, essentially diamond, but with a better... so diamonds are brittle? And this is anything but, it's rather beautifully interwoven and self reinforcing and almost... organic, instead of crystalline. But the, ah, chips here are following the natural weak points of the material. This is fascinating, and I have no idea how anyone would even begin to make it."

Just as accustomed to handling sharp things as he is, she returns it, still looking thoughtful.

He accepts it.

"...this sounds like something I have heard of. Maybe."

“It does seem very fitting for Nordic legend, doesn’t it. What do you know?”

"Ice steel, is the name I've heard of, in legends." He brings the blade closer to his eyes to inspect it more carefully, now that he is less completely struck by awe. "A type of metal, if you can call it that, forged in cold, not in heat. It is said to be fashioned by the dead themselves; the living gift the noble dead with a lesser metal, after putting it through exquisitely complex trials, and the dead honour the living by gifting it back.

"...the legends vary a lot in the specifics and tend to be light on the details but that's the rough central thread of it."

“Huh! I suppose this place’s residents have honored us both then, hm?”

Which is to say: yes of course he gets to keep the dagger, there will be no loot infighting on her watch.

Good good. Not that he expected there to be any.

"I will need to find more accurate information on this. Perhaps Mother can commandeer a good librarian."

“You are welcome to come investigate the College’s, though I don’t think we’d have much on this. Nordic lore is often related orally, and, well. Winterhold’s College has rather fallen out of favor, and nobody really wants to talk to us anymore.”

No shit Winterhold's College's fallen out of favour, not that he's gonna say anything about that.

But despite his personal instinctive distaste for Winterhold he recognises that it's not, like, objectively reasonable. He's fine dealing with individual wizards, and the College is just a collection of individuals, is it not? "I might take you up on that, but I am likewise not very hopeful."

This individual in front of him is definitely aware of the College's reputation. She seems wry about it, if anything.

"Right. And if any mage from the College ever gives you any sort of trouble in regards to you having your ice steel dagger, like wanting to take it away from you to study it, you have my full permission to throw my name around with something like 'she said it was best in my hands.'" Her mouth twitches. "And, you know, whatever other defenses you see fit for defending your property if that doesn't work. But it should."

"Oh, you a big shot back there, then?"