They stood in the silence of the library for a long while, the only sounds the thrum of their heartbeat. Circe did not pull away until the initial shock of seeing her mother's portrait had faded, settling instead into a bittersweet, almost aching happiness, a humming warmth that glowed beneath her skin. When she finally leaned back, her fingers still clung to the fabric of Ragnar's shirt, as though letting go entirely might shatter the moment.
Ragnar lifted a hand, his thumb brushing gently along her cheek with a familiar tenderness she had long since grown accustomed to from him. He looked relieved, as though revealing this secret had lifted a weight from him.
"Where did you find it?" she asked softly.
