"But do you believe there would be acceptance elsewhere?" Idun asked, studying Loki as his thoughts continued to weigh heavily on him. He had a smile made of mischief, and it was one of the things that Idun loved about him, but there was far more to Loki than smiles. Perhaps it was difficult for most to see, since most were not treated to visits like these. Idun knew he trusted her, knew he came for discussions that would be difficult, if not impossible, to have elsewhere. They allowed her to see him as he truly was.
She saw the Trickster as well as the Father. Idun wouldn't change that for anything, not even if she occasionally dirtied a dress in the process of seeing him. It was easier to clean a dress than it was to ease a troubled mind.
"You know their mother as I never have, as I never will. I know what you've told me, and I trust your words, Loki. Would she love them, had they stayed with her? Would she accept them as you long for them to be accepted?" Perhaps if Idun ever had the chance to meet Andrboda, she would see something redeeming, as she almost always did when she met someone, but that moment was unlikely to come. She had Loki, and his heavy thoughts were the only ones she wished to ease.
"Perhaps those stares and whispers will strengthen your children, rather than breaking them. It won't be fair, for those three to be subjected to the cautious curiosity of the Aesir, but through it all, they'll have you. Won't they? Doesn't that count for a great deal? And when they come through the other side of all that, truly think of their strength of character. There is such appeal in that trait."
If Idun had children, she, too, would want nothing but acceptance for them. But acceptance was not always easy, or guaranteed, and though it would hurt her dearly, she would not wish her children to stop trying. She wouldn't say any of this, as no child of hers would likely be wolf or serpent or born as Hel was born, but she felt it, and that showed in her expression, clear and unmistakeable.