No expression was safe. If she frowned, he smiled. If she glared, he smirked. Idun could protest as much as she liked, but he wasn't listening and even the internal stance of stubborn disapproval wasn't all that believable. She didn't believe the protests herself. Why she was so determined to hang onto them was a matter to be dissected later. Once Bragi grew tired of her thin veil of scowls and decided to seek entertainment elsewhere. It was only a matter of time. How much unpleasantness was he truly willing to take?
Idun decided the best thing to do was nothing at all. She would just stare, her expression neutral, her words dull and uninteresting. And then he would tire of her. He would leave. She would never see him again, and her curiosity would have no choice but to evaporate. She was determined. Stubborn in her resolve! And then nonchalance filtered into his tone, and Bragi went from a smirk to a smile to a smirk once again, and Idun could not remain neutral. Not to save her life. Her eyes widened slightly, as if something about his response was shocking, even though it clearly was not, his goal was to be frustrating at every turn. And then she shook out a breathy huff and shook her head. "It's probably more fun for you when it's intentional," she suggested. To be helpful, obviously.
When she took his story and tried to use it to her advantage, Idun hadn't considered how Bragi might twist things to shine in his favor instead. She really needed to start considering all that. Bragi clearly understood the intricacies of a conversation. Idun was not prepared for someone sharp and smirking and...frustrating. He was frustrating. Idun didn't do frustrated very well. It was foreign. Her lips parted as he began twisting the conversation, and her mouth just remained opened, comical and ridiculous, until he was finished and grinning like he knew all the secrets of the nine worlds. "I did not!" Idun practically shouted, bewildered by the seemingly flawless logic that had brought him to this conclusion. She couldn't see how his thinking was wrong, not when he was grinning and using definitions to strengthen his argument. But Bragi was wrong. He was.
"I didn't summon you! Just because you happen to be here doesn't mean you are my epiphany. In fact, maybe your arrival just distracted me from my epiphany. You don't know! You're just assuming, because...because you are!" But he was right. What were the chances of them choosing the exact same tree in the same forest at the same time on the same day? If she had arrived an hour earlier, or he an hour later, this meeting wouldn't have occurred at all. Idun liked the romantic versions of things. She liked when a story had a happy ending, when the boy got the girl in the end. She liked when all the elements came together perfectly to allow something wonderful to happen. And allowing herself to think all this through made her realize that this was exactly what she loved to hear about. Serendipity. Fate. Chance meetings. It took everything she had to keep from giving in right then.
But she did slip. Just a little. If there was some glimmer of fate involved here, maybe she really was destined to lose her bird for the time being. Maybe. Idun studied that last smile of his for a moment, taking in how genuine it was, how inoffensive and appealing. "Maybe I'll summon my bird back next," she said. Almost playfully. Almost in line with the way she normally treated handsome gods who wanted to spend time with her in trees. Idun shifted out of her comfortable position, and rather quickly, naturally, slid down to the next branch. She needed out of this tree before she slipped completely. "Maybe I'll see my bird again very soon."
A pause. She tipped her head back, made sure she had his gaze, and then she smiled. Unreserved, unapologetic. A true, shining, Idun smile. "But maybe not."
Maybe the same could be said of Bragi, too. But maybe not. Idun was too busy climbing down to think it through.