Odin slips the page back in the book and stares at the flames. When he leaves the room, the diary comes with him. He has business to attend. He calls for an attendant to bring Sigyn to the palace. He has questions and the only other person who could answer them he had executed.

In only a few hours, Sigyn stands in front of his throne. She is dressed plainly, her face veiled.

"Do you know why I have summoned you?"

"I can guess, your highness, but I cannot be certain."

"You were close to Loki."

"Yes."

"How close?"

"Very. Enough that my children knew him." He wonders if it is polite to ask about who the father of these children are and she senses the question in his silence, "They were not his. But at the same time, they were."

"And you knew who he was when he sat enthroned?"

She knows revealing this is implicating herself in treason, but with her heart broken, she can see no way to lie her way around the obvious answer, "Yes. He came to me as a maid and once inside my home, he revealed himself."

"You told no one?"

"Of course not. We live quiet lives and he was happy with our quiet lives, and my children were happy to have their own secret to keep."

"Did you not wonder what had happened to your king?"

"Yes. But I also knew that my king would take my beloved from me should he return. That has proven true."

"Your beloved committed treason."

"My beloved was still my beloved, treason or no."

"Do you know he was executed?"

"Yes. I was present."

Odin is surprised, "You recognised him?"

"He revealed himself to me when he was yet free."

"And you were not afraid?"

"My beloved is still my beloved, no matter his colour or blood."

Odin is taken aback by her honesty, but moreso by her willingness to look past Loki's heritage. He stares at her a while, then paces. She does not move. She bows her head and waits in silence.

He slips the letter from the back of the diary and steps down to her, "This belongs to you. Go. And tell no one what you know."

She nods her thanks and takes the book in both her hands, then clutches it to her chest. She drops to her knees, shuddering with sobs, as he leaves.

Odin does not think of her again. Thor returns from Midgard nearly a month later and Odin tells him of Loki's execution and hands him the letter. Thor flees. He flees to Svartalfheim, to the plains where no one lives, and he destroys anything that he can- rocks, barren trees, remains of the skiff they flew in on.

He destroys things until he finds himself standing in the spot where he watched his brother die.

"I am a fool..." he whispers. He opens the letter and reads it slowly, carefully, every word precious. When he finishes, hot tears roll down his face and he cannot be ashamed of them. "For you, Brother, I will tell different stories. And some day, I will tell your story and the story of those who love you."

He calls for Heimdall and returns to Asgard. He wanders until he finds Sigyn's door and knocks. She answers. Neither speak, but she steps aside to invite him in. He hands her the letter. She reads. She hands him the diary and retreats to the kitchen, returning later with small cakes and tea. He takes his time with the words. She follows along with him, reading upside-down from across the table.

When he reaches the last page, he speaks for the first time since entering her house, "What can I do?"

"My children loved him dearly."

"As he did both them and you."

"Yes. And I him.

"Then let me be their uncle, let us build family. And I will tell them stories."

"They know he is dead, but I have not yet told them how. Marian knows, though. She is old enough to put the pieces together."

"There will always be a piece missing."

"Yes. There will."

Thor reaches for her hand, "Please. He will always be my brother. And if you were his beloved, then you are my sister."

She searches his face for any sign of a cruel trick and finds none, only sincerety, grief, and tear streaks. She nods.

"For him."

"Yes," Thor squeezes her hand, "For him."