Liesmith, Silver-tongued

Sigyn had shed too many tears in private, drawing only the concerns of their growing children. The softest noise slipped from her throat as she dipped her head under his arm to settle against Loki, one arm curled against him, the other resting over his chest.

Words and confirmations spread through the realm like a disease and she could hear whispers wherever she went, around every corner. It was true that he had done much wrong, but how could they not at least try to understand this pain, this lifetime of being misunderstood and cast aside?

"I do wish I could hear your thoughts," she said finally, closing her eyes for a moment to try to focus on the beat of his heart, as she always did. There it was, right where she last found it.