[ She had already kissed him upon the cheek in greeting, and he had not seemed to like that. This seems a more fitting time to do it, but instead, she searches for his hands and pulls them into her own, where they are held in her lap. ]

They are not harbingers, only reflections of another world. [ She wishes to smooth the worry from his brow. ] I know that you worry. [ She squeezes his hands. ] I do, I know. It shall always be difficult to dissent, to be the first to tread a path. I do not dispute your right to be afraid, or your reasons. I do not doubt they are justified.

[ She knows the weight of uncertainty, the icy kiss of fear. She went to bed afraid and woke up afraid for fourteen years. ]

But it will not serve to dwell on what may come to pass, only what passes now. [ She leans forward, watching bright green hues. ] You say you do not wish to hurt people. I say do not. The Loki before me now has not faltered, and he should not care for the suspicious prattle of men who would make him into their jousting target. You are a god of defiance, are you not? Defy them. Show them that they do not speak for you. [ Her hands are warm, her voice warmer. Curiously, she does not seem to hear the howling of the winds. ]

There shall always be a time for change, however hard-won. There must be; elsewise, the universe would not have made you.

[ Remember that, she seems to say. Remember your strength. ]