"I have been informed that my homely skills are atrocious and never to touch a loom again," she said, with a glitter of amusement. "I only burnt two loaves of bread past eating this week, and even managed to keep the stew from scorching for an entire day. Helga thinks that perhaps I shall even manage not to be a disgrace to the village by the time she dies."

It was a good joke to these people, the skillful artisan without any menial skills to speak of. The roar of hearty laughter from the table only emphasized that, and Helga, the headman's wife and nominal representative of the women's needs before her husband and the other leaders gave her a beaming smile. Everyone knew the trickster god had an interest in odd things and people, anyway.

"No worries, Loki, I'm keeping everyone quite entertained."