Sigyn was among the highest ranks of the Midgardian socialites, once upon a time. It means almost nothing, compared to Asgard -- but her manners haven't entirely deserted her, and she's trying to keep the only person around as a temporary ally if she can. She offers her hand with a smile that freezes on her face.

Mindreaders aren't something that exists in the Yggdrasil system, at least that she knows of. She has no way to stop him from seeing her past; anything he looks for is there for the taking. Months of maneuvering herself as a servant, being treated as little better than furniture on the three-month train journey between Midgard and Asgard, as she and the others in the resistance planned quietly amongst themselves; before that, leading the resistance, watching friends and allies slowly dwindle until the bulk of the work was on her shoulders. Back further, years of mourning, grief and pain and rage at the loss of her wife; and then before that, Loki, her Loki, alive, working side-by-side to disrupt Asgard's tyranny, building things, living their lives together with so much love.

It takes a moment to regroup herself, and then she pulls her hand away, stepping back, her face hard and uncertain, her arms wrapping tightly around herself. "What was that?" she asks, slowly, resisting the urge to turn and run straight into the unknown, because who knows what might be waiting there.