"They all expect me to smile..."

The Asgardian winter cold was as bitter as it always had been, but anyone passing young Sigyn in the massive stone halls would have sworn that the temperature had dropped to absolute zero. The young incantation-fetter was visibly unsettled, the knit brow and reddened eyes an uncommon sight on the typically sweet and smiling girl. No one stopped her or asked what could have possibly upset her so as she hurried down to her room.

No one said a word.

Sigyn's bare feet padded along the icy stone, her mood enough to assist in ignoring the pain she felt with each step. Were she entirely honest with herself, she would simply cry and get it over with, knowing full well that her status as a prisoner of war was responsible for her current predicament. Rather, she would continue to lie and lie and lie to herself, convincing herself that it was simply a poor mood, simply a bad day, and nothing more. If anyone were to ask, she would tell them that she was sore and frustrated from sword training, but no one would ask. They never did. Pulling her robes tighter around her slim shoulders, she thought to herself how her life could have possibly taken such a turn? What had she done to earn her place as a bartering chip? She would never voice her pain, fearful that Heimdall would report her to the Allfather; simply being ripped from her home was enough of a punishment.

It was then the young Vanir stopped in the middle of an empty courtyard. She had allowed herself to become so distracted that she was lost. Nothing about the area seemed familiar, and she was standing barefoot in ankle-deep snow in darkness, the faintest of light from the moon and stars above; the torches lining the pathways had long since gone cold, drowned by the earlier storm or simply by the winds that seeped through the branches of the Worlds Tree from Jotunheim.

She was alone in the darkness.

Standing there was not an option, she decided, and continued down the path to the nearest public building. To her relief, it was the library. Numbed fingers suddenly began to sting as she pushed the door open and slipped inside, keeping close to the windows as she hurried along in an attempt to locate a chair or bench, anyplace that was not made of stone or metal to sit and warm her feet before trying to find the servants' living halls again...