The pain that crossed his face tore at her, and she knew what caused it. Of course she did. Sigyn shared that pain, but dancing away from it now would avoid the current problem. A problem that she thought she could find at least a partial solution for. She couldn't bring her boys back, not ever. But she might be able to do something about this.
Maybe it was as futile to try to repair this problem as it was to wish for her family to be returned to her, but it was something. It was something. She could try, she could do, she could maybe make some forward progress. For too long, she'd been standing still, and not just because she'd been in one spot holding the bowl. That was literal. Figuratively, emotionally, spiritually, she'd been just as stuck. How long could she live in that place where there was nothing but desolation and loneliness and pain? How long could she let Loki stay there? She couldn't save her boys, but maybe she could save her husband.
At least a little bit.
“What can we change?” she repeated. “For starters, we can do something about the cold. Why do we have to always be cold? You're not going anywhere, and the damn snake isn't leaving either, so why do you have to have more suffering heaped on top of that? Why do I?”
She huffed out an aggrieved breath, a harsher sound than a sigh. “We know that they're not interested in being fair or just, but they should feel some guilt. Some of them at least. You're right, I am the variable, and maybe I can do something about this.”
Sigyn just wasn't certain what. Yet. She needed help to figure that out, and her husband was the smartest person she knew. “Where do you think I should start?”