When she'd landed in his arms, Bragi had adjusted. When she was safely on the ground, Bragi had to adjust to having empty arms again. The latter was the much harder adjustment. He tried, but in the end, he didn't succeed. He didn't adjust. He ignored the part of his brain that told Bragi how much he needed to. Instead, Bragi looked at the swinging net, and noted that she wouldn't be falling out of any more of them. She wouldn't need his arms again. Not for a very long time.
It made the terrible cuteness of the goddess's post net routine almost inappropriate. Like giggling at a funeral. But there was nothing Bragi could do about this. She was cute enough to get away with it. For someone fairer than he'd ever seen, Rosy was very unfair sometimes. His emotions were wadded up in knots heavy enough to be chains and they were flying all over the place and she still somehow made acting better than fine easy. When Bragi looked at her, he didn't have to act so much.
She bowed in an adorably overexaggerated manner, and he laughed with her. It came easy. He almost forgot that the smiles before hadn't been legitimate. That she hadn't looked at him until now, after he'd set her down. Those were hopeful things, but Bragi had detected enough of her pain for that day. Now she was safe. Safe and happy should go together, and she should feel those things even when Bragi couldn't. Even when Bragi knew no one was going to come along and hand him a rope cutting knife any time soon. Especially when. He wanted her to be happy with him, but that could wait another day. No one was collecting him. They had time. Bragi tilted his head to the side and looked at her and then the sky as though he were trying to figure out if her request had merit.
“I suppose you have earned that,” Bragi mused. “But only because you were completely unscathed.” He paused. “It was at my mother's house a few years back. She caught me off guard once. She's a brilliant speaker, my mother.” There was a lot more to it than that, but the goddess had only earned the answer. Not the details. The details weren't the sort of thing that could ever make a good prize. “Her name's Gunnlod, by the way,” Bragi said with a smirk. “Just so you don't accidentally go for one of my parents again the next time you try to give me a fake name.”
He took her in one last time, then Bragi took a step up to meet her. He put his arm around her shoulder. “Come on Rosy, I'll take you home.”