There it was. A flicker of hope that despite the images she had seen she felt something. "It is my choice given what you've told me. I have two options..." He rubbed his fingers over his beard. "Is there anything else you can tell me before I should decide?" He was testing her.
Sif considered the question before answering. Did she want to marry Thor? She liked her life here in the mountains with her son, but she had to admit that she missed the warmth of a man beside her, and that she missed adult conversation. But would she, if given the choice, go to live in Asgard with gods who stood so high above her and be a queen over them? It didn't seem right but perhaps others had been right about her parentage. Perhaps she was of the Vanir if the will of fate saw fit to give her such a choice. When she closed her eyes for a moment, she could almost picture herself on a throne.
"I do not know," Sif finally told him honestly. "Less than an hour ago I had no prospects beyond collecting tomorrow's firewood, and now I sit in my own home beside a god who speaks to me as though my opinion is a thing of worth to him. I am... forgive me, my lord, but I am overwhelmed by such high matters as these." She shook her head a little. "You are kind and handsome, and whoever it is you take as a bride will be a fortunate woman, and you will be a worthy king and a fine husband. I need no powers of prophecy to see that much."