Someone was asleep in the library. This was not an entirely surprising discovery, but Idun decided against rushing into the room that was technically meant to house all their books. A quick look around many of the rooms in the hall would suggest that neither of them properly understood what it meant to give a specific room a specific purpose, but when they were married, Bragi and Idun had combined book collections with about the same fervor as they had combined their lives. Coming in third, the combining of blanket collections, but that wasn't nearly as exciting. Idun steered away from the library because she didn't trust the unexpected sight on the other side, but also, more importantly, because she was more interested in her husband than she was in vases. It was funny how that worked out. There were very few items on her mental list of Things More Desirable Than Bragi, and the two entries that had made that list were sneaky references to her husband anyway.
Bards who invent transitional rifts just to steal kisses hardly left many options open, no matter what Bragi might claim.
When he told her about the mysterious library guest and the vase, Bragi let his wife know that he was present and nearby. That sent a rather nauseating chill of newlywed bliss rushing up Idun's spine. They were terrible, the two of them, and she was never going to get sick of that. The flowers were set down, absently but not carelessly, and Idun took a few steps closer to the parlor before Bragi appeared to meet her slightly more than halfway. She smiled with the beaming glow of a bride on her wedding day. Since she was wearing white and there were flowers nearby, it made sense to get confused about which smile to use. That, or Idun's happiness had just shot too far off the scales for there to be an easy equivalent to conjure up. "Bragi," she breathed, feeling the pleasant warmth of returning home flood her system even though she had been in the hall for a few minutes now.
Hearing that they needed to talk did not alarm Idun. It would be a great many years before the phrase 'We need to talk' would automatically put a chilling fear worse than death in the hearts of significant others everywhere. In early Asgard, they were still just words. Bragi's tone caught her attention, however. She looked at him curiously, settling on the steps beside him with an arched eyebrow and an expectant glimmer in her eyes. When he continued, that glimmer sparked into a proper flame. "What?" she asked, brow furrowing. Bragi strolled merrily along on the path of ridiculous statements. "What?!" Idun demanded.
By the time Loki's name was added to the mix, Idun had launched herself back off the stairs so she was standing, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed dangerously close to the point of murderous glares.
"Did you fall from a very tall tree, Bragi? Land on your head, perhaps? Because...you are listening to yourself, right? You are aware that you're implying that not only am I having extramarital relations, but adulterous behavior involving my oldest and most platonic friend!" Idun removed one hand from her hips so that she could point one of those fingers at her misguided and painfully wrong husband. "Honestly, I don't even know what to say here, because defending myself in this particular circumstance seems too ridiculous to even attempt! Loki? Loki, who has finally figured out what love is and is happy and at peace? The same Loki who would probably still kiss me with about as much passion as a brother if he were ever given another chance, which he never will be because I am happily married to you? That Loki?"