Idun found the wine. She found appropriate cups. She busied herself with inspecting one of them, making sure it was clean and impeccable because she was a good hostess and would never offer Loki a dirty glass, but it was unsurprisingly spotless and pouring the wine only provided a brief bit of distraction. Jealousy wasn't stupid, and what Loki was saying made sense, and Idun knew that nothing good could come of these emotions, but...
The trouble was acknowledging everything. Not just the individual pieces, but the terrible, terrible entirety of things. Idun took a breath, releasing it a moment later with more tremble than she was comfortable with. She frowned unintentionally, wearing that expression as she placed one of the cups in front of her dear, dear friend. He snapped the spoon but Idun was too concerned with an invisible speck of dirt on her counter surface to really pay the destruction much mind.
He continued speaking, continued offering wisdom that sounded a great deal like what she was consciously trying to ignore, and Idun looked at Loki when he indirectly made mention of Sif. He knew what this would be like. He'd been down that road, and knowing that brought a familiar sadness to her heart, reminding her why she would never be able to think kindly of Thor's bride. Loki had her attention fully, though he had had it all along, and the act of looking upon him as he spoke made it that much harder to ignore his words.
Another breath failed to steady her like Idun had hoped it might. She took a sip of wine, but it tasted bitter on her tongue.
"I don't..." she began, stopping abruptly before she could claim ignorance. She set the cup back down. Idun was ignoring something, some very important piece, but she couldn't do it anymore. Not when Loki was right there, and she was looking at him. Not even when she knew how he'd view the whole muddled situation. Loki didn't believe in love. Loki was more reasonable than that.
The problem, however, was that Idun apparently wasn't.
"I think...I think I might be in terrible trouble," she finally said, a whisper that seemed to vibrate against the walls. "He just...he changed the way I've looked at things for as long as I can remember. He made it seem...possible...to love someone without hurting them. If you only heard the way he spoke of her...it's pure, Loki. It's real. And I never believed that sort of thing existed, but now...oh, now I think I love him. And that's far worse than never loving at all, because his heart belongs to someone else already, and that's pure and just...I'm in terrible trouble..."