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Rest had been fitful since the kid arrived. She tried not to think about why, tried not to show it on her face.

Tried not to sigh openly when he asked her things, tried not to consider passing him off to Cupid instead, or allow her expression to ripple with the resentment she felt toward whatever malevolent force had taken Tove, had taken Trygve, Saga, and Loki, and given them a child, instead. Had ripped the poor boy away from whatever family he might've had and dropped him into the lap of a new one. Like that would fix things. Like it would make everything better.

She tried to get some sleep, and was instead awoken by the feeling of nails in her eye, trying to pry them open.

Huh? She murmured blearily, jerking her head away and blinking in the dim light. What time...? She stopped herself, swallowed the spark of rage that had ignited in her chest. No, not tonight. It's late, just go to sleep, please.

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