If the goddess truly wished Bragi to stop smirking, the last thing she should have done was told him to. Every unapologetic smirker knew that this only made things worse. It was like trying to douse a fire by putting a nice hefty long on it. If anything, Bragi's smirk became more pronounced. He couldn't stop if he tried. If she truly wanted him to stop smirking she should have told him the tree was on fire, or that he had his grandfather's eyes. But Bragi didn't think she really wanted that. She objected a little too much to actually be objectionable.
“Am I?” Bragi asked. He slowly raised an eyebrow. “I wonder why I would go to all that trouble when I can aggravate you on accident just as easily.” His tone was even and almost nonchalant, but the smirk that turned into a grin then back into a smirk sold him out. He did not laugh, but this took a great deal of effort on his part. He imagined horribly tragic things like someone forcing his brothers to make speeches, or broken harp strings, and when that didn't work, his mind went to a few moments from then when he would inevitably have to go. It surprised him how well that worked.
A new look had come into her eyes like she was slowly creeping down a hall filled with doors she'd never opened, and Bragi knew if he were playing fair at all this would be a sign that smile or no, he could leave. For some inexplicable reason, Bragi suddenly had decidedly less interest in playing fair.
“That would be a very sad scenario,” Bragi conceded, “But fortunately it's also impossible because if it was your turn for an epiphany then I didn't interrupt you.” He leaned in closer. “There are too many trees in this forest to count. I know. I've tried. Of those too many not enough are wonderfully climbable. But still too many to count. The odds of you and I meeting in this tree on the same day at the same time by accident are astronomically small. The odds of you and I meeting in this tree by accident when you don't even know the story about the dwarf are even smaller. Practically unimaginable.”
He looked away for a fraction of a second then looked even deeper into her eyes. “What the dwarf knew and most people don't realize is that there are actually two definitions of epiphany. The first is a moment of sudden understanding like say....a mother realizing the prettiest thing in the universe was at her table all along. But the second? A sudden surprising manifestation that will bring you that understanding like say...” He grinned mischievously “an unknown god appearing in a tree with you without any warning.”
He leaned in a tiny bit closer for a second. “So if it was your turn for an epiphany, I didn't interrupt you. You summoned me. If it was your turn for an epiphany, I am your epiphany.” By this logic, she was also the one who startled the bird, but Bragi didn't bring this up. Then she'd be annoyed by herself and herself was the one person who could never ever leave her. Bragi didn't want to be responsible for that kind of collateral damage. If she wanted that conclusion, she'd have to come to it herself.
Bragi removed his hand from hers when hers found the crack, and watched bemused as she traced. When her eyes met his, the accusation evident in her voice, he just smiled again. “Maybe,” Bragi said. “But maybe not.” If he ever saw her again, he'd have to introduce her to the dwarf someday.