The entire ascent to Asgard, Angrboða was blessedly embraced by an overwhelming sense of calm. As the air around her grew thin, she would have panicked and struggled to breathe. However, her steed seemed to have some sort of field surrounding him that enveloped her as well. This field kept the air around her close and helped her remain steady upon the beast’s back. In her old life, horses had always given her an unsettled feeling. Here upon Loki’s back, she felt safe and secure.

If the sight of the gods had left the villagers dumbstruck, the sight of Asgard in all its glory would have left them dead. Angrboða’s eyes widened to take in the view.

Nothing she had seen before or ever since could compare to that sight – a marvelous wonder constructed upon stone with spires reaching beyond heaven itself. Her heart could beat right out of her chest, she thought. In that moment, she thought of Thorsten and his heart. She yearned to share this moment with him and shed a tear for his absence. That solitary tear fell back to Midgard and grew into a Rowan tree.