Uriel laughed bitterly. "No, I do not have family here," she replied. "Ask any of the other angels, and they will never call me family." She smiled, a faint, sad little smile. "I liked to think I mattered. I liked to think I was looking after them, keeping them out of trouble, being the only one with sense. But it isn't true, is it? They can live on perfectly well without me, if not better. I only have you, and Bran."

She sighed, then. "Norse women may have been able to do that," she said. "However, they were raised to do that from when they were little. I've never had any upbringing, so how could I know how to bring up a child? I don't usually even eat, so how could I make sure my child gets fed properly? I know nothing about anything but arts, religion, and completely useless trivia, so how could I ever be useful in any way, never mind running a household of any kind? There couldn't be a worse possible mother than me, Loki. I simply don't know how to handle this, and if you die, I will have nobody to support me. Not anybody I can expect to stay here, anyway."