Seven hundred years later, while he lay on a threadbare rug in a small moonlit room and his audience drifted to sleep watching the shadows cast by his moving hands against the wall, Bragi would pinpoint this as the first moment he knew. The moment the goddess leaned in to tell him about her fully murderous glare, her eyes smiling like they knew every epiphany in the universe. Of course, Bragi didn't know this was the moment he knew at the time. He just found it....strange. Very peculiar.
Partly because he suddenly had an interest in fully murderous glares that he'd never had before, but mostly because Bragi now knew he'd remember that expression and all the others exactly tomorrow. Not just tomorrow, but the days after as well. It shocked him a little. Bragi had experienced that kind of permanent etched clarity before with family. They were permanent, all important fixtures in his life that Bragi cared about, and would always have around to care about. But he'd never experienced it with a tieless apple maiden on the road.
Bragi didn't let his thoughts travel any farther in that direction. Instead he grinned and leaned in a bit farther than she had as if this were an even bigger secret and said “I was lucky that she didn't think I did.” He winked. After he'd seen every one of her other expressions, Bragi wanted to see the fully murderous glare, and live to see it again.
She'd keep it in mind. The words weren't quite as beautiful as the smile that came with them. She smiled so very well with her eyes. She'd keep it in mind. If she didn't, Bragi might have to find a way to remind her. He returned her smile back to her.
When it was Bragi's turn to listen, he did intently, though he couldn't say he understood her answer anymore than she'd understood his. It gave him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he looked at the road ahead to make sure it hadn't washed away. The more she spoke, the more he felt like something had. For a moment it blew all thoughts of wondrous peculiarities and beautiful tree goddesses with warm loving laughs out of his head. She became just as distant as she wanted to be.
In his mind, Bragi looked upwards to the very top of the apple maiden's wall to where she stood on a ladder on the other side, humming while she casually smoothed the layer she was adding with her trowel. Bragi looked up at her there for one sad wistful moment, and then walked away. He left her to her wall.
Until she got to the very last line. Nobody takes commitment like that seriously, and that's terrible. Bragi snapped out of his reverie immediately. The light came back into his eyes, and they turned back to the goddess as if they had never left. Bragi didn't smile, but in his head, he grinned. It wasn't ideal, but it was something he could work with. This was not a goddess who never wanted to settle down. This was a goddess who told herself she didn't want to settle down, because she was afraid of being hurt and betrayed. She didn't trust love. She didn't trust it to last. She didn't believe herself captivating enough to capture someone's heart forever. That part Bragi still didn't understand, but it was alright. He believed and trusted where she didn't.
He did not say this though. Instead Bragi nibbled on his lip for a second. “So you'd like your journey alone then?” he asked to clarify, “without even children?” He frowned a little. “Well Rosy,” Bragi said, “I can't say that doesn't disappoint me a little because it means we can only ever be friends. You may find happiness in being single forever, but that's not something I want. I don't even like being single for more than two weeks. I want to marry a goddess I love and trust completely and have a chaotic number of children all with their mother's eyes.” He met her green ones, and smiled.
“But oh well,” Bragi said. “Friendship is a wonderful enough thing by itself. I'd still be happy to be your friend if you'd like. If you don't mind this one critical divergence in opinion.” He was going to marry her.
Seven hundred years later, Bragi would admit that his backing of this last statement tended to ebb in and out a little depending on the moment. And whether or not her glare was slightly murderous.