Bragi shrank beneath her withering glare. Well, actually he shrugged, but the two were remarkably similar under one made up definition. Usually her withering glare packed more punch. Bragi was sure it sent warriors fleeing in terror. Sometimes it was very good that Bragi was not a warrior. “Sometimes” Bragi said. He smirked. He wasn't sure that terrible was the right word. Hopeless sometimes. But he didn't mind. He didn't want to lie to people unless they wanted to be fooled. When they wanted to be fooled, he could do a very good job at it.
The music filled everything and then spun out. Bragi got lost in it until Idun started to dance. Then his fingers took over, and he depended on them to know exactly what they were doing, because Bragi's mind, and heart and eyes were occupied. He'd never seen a victory dance that beautiful. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything that beautiful. Her dance was a gentle kind of sway, but she moved like the ground had only the effect that she wanted it to. Bragi was the son of a king, but she was the true light princess. And she was home. He'd felt it when he'd wrapped his arms around her. And she was dancing, which meant she concurred.
He was so lost in the twirling motion that it didn't register what she was doing until the instrument was already out of his hands. The music fell apart a little, but he didn't care. He was home. Bragi wrapped an arm around her back, and took the other hand, and they danced close. He hummed the notes the song was missing in her ear. When she spoke, Bragi grinned. “I don't owe this one,” he said, “But I'll be happy to give it to you on loan. So long as you promise to pay me back later.” They kept dancing a few moments after the music stopped. Bragi didn't notice. He still heard the music.