30 Days - Outside

[felicitygs]

 It is raining.

 

It has been raining for nearly a week now, and Sigyn watches it and she wonders a little.

 

Mostly, she mourns, and for that she is grateful for the rain even if it means that someone she feels little sympathy for mourns as well.

 

Indeed, much of Asgard mourns; he may not have always been well-liked, may have sometimes had a jest gone too far, but he was Asgard’s odd prince.

 

She mourns privately, for all the public space where it alright to. She knows what rare privilege it was to be allowed into his confidences; he was not a lover, at least not physically, and yet his loss aches as much as that, perhaps more.

 

(It is safe to admit, alone, that he was one of her rare friends as much as she was one of his.)

 

They say Prince Thor has been changed, drawn in and reflective as few have ever seen him. The rain at least lends some credence to that, though Sigyn is not sure how much she believes it.

 

She hopes so; the cost was certainly high enough.

 

(Too high, she thinks, sitting on a balcony where she’d passed more than one evening in her beloved’s company, sweet wine on their lips and sweeter laughter in the air.)