No Time Like the Present [tag: Sigyn]
There was no avoiding it any longer, really. She'd put it off far too long as it was. She'd put it off for years with the cave, then during the begging of the freedom and now... well...
Frigg wasn't sure how to go about remedying things. Odin seemed to have no problems repairing his bonds with Loki, but men would never understand how different things were. This was different. This was so many levels of different. Not only because Frigg had not been able to stop the tragedy of what happened to Sigyn's sons, but... she had never supported her friend's marriage from the beginning. Because she had been too selfish to put aside her personal issues with a man, which had nothing to do with Sigyn at all -or any other woman really, and just be happy for her having found something that so few ever did.
That... That was entirely Frigg's failing. Gift of the future-sight, and yet... nothing she ever saw would have prepared her for this. For all she knew, she always knew that there was far more that she didn't know. Such was the curse of wisdom mixed with the arrogance of selfishness.
There was too much to repair. It was probably impossible to repair. And yet, she had a duty to try. It wasn't just because Sigyn, whether she wanted to be or not, was still one of them, but because there was an ache and emptiness in her heart all these years at having lost such a dear friend. Which was how she ended up starting to hand-paint the Merino the previous summer, then took the time -her slow sweet time in truth, to spin it into a fine lace weight. And then....
And then it sat. It sat in a basket in her private chamber for months, untouched. The hanks were carefully wound, but she had struggled with the courage to actually make it. Because making it would mean having to actually gift it. Which would mean having to venture forth to see her old friend -the one she had embraced as family, and face whatever sort of reaction that would bring. Possibly not even just from Sigyn, but Loki as well. They had never gotten on. They never would.
Eventually, she got around to starting putting the first stitch on the needles, working endlessly until the final one was bound off. It was long, narrow on one end, wider on the other. It was the sort of shawl meant to be draped on one shoulder, then wrapped about however the wearer wanted and pinned in place. With the color of the painted wool and the final shape of the project, it reminded her so much of the lovely things Sigyn used to paint that she had to walk away long enough to regain control of her tears in order to package everything up.
Which was what left her now... dawdling.
First Frigg paced on the street -package in her hand, then she paced in front of the house, then again on the porch, then again in front of the house...
She took a deep breath, it was now or never, and rang the bell.