Books
Admitting that I am hungry again to my benefactor is very, very embarrassing. Unfortunately, Atlanta caught my discomfiture, somehow, and refused to be placated. She agrees to take my trinkets as payment for all that she has done for me, but… well… there is nothing of value to anything I can make with my seiðr, while my honour demands that she receive things of equal value to what she has given me.
So I scour all the books in her private library for an idea, while she is ordering evening meals to be delivered to her residence, ignoring the “internet” for now since it would only make me more indebted to her by borrowing her phone.
Well, I gain plenty of eclectic information, including accounts that Atlanta claims are only fictional stories. But there is little to inspire me to make sufficient gesture to repay her generocity.
Including this latest gift, because I know that scholars tend to hoard their manuscripts jealously.
Unless I would reveal at least some facet of myself and Asgard, that is.
Well, Atlanta seems to like fantastical tales, and Asgardians were known – even worshipped as deities – in a few parts of this realm centuries ago….