A loud scream of pain that could rival any man being tortured radiated throughout the long house. Lára kneelt on the floor at the back of the house; her body bent crookedly despite my attempts keep her upright. She was almost ready for her child to be born, something I thanked the Gods for. The look of pain on her face was unbearable to watch. I wondered silently if it was always this way for women and feared for myself. Pushing the thought from my head, I tried to be strong for Lára who seemed to grow weaker and weaker as the birthing process went on.

The midwife, a stout older woman from the village named Astrid, bustled around the house, warming water to wash the babe over the fire and readying the swaddling clothes for the child. Occasionally she would make sure Lára was progressing, but she left me in charge of the woman as she muttered to herself about her condition.

Once Lára gave another piercing scream, Astrid came forth, the sleeves of her tunic pushed up passed her elbows. "Get on your hands and knees, Lára; you know how it is done."

Lára did as she was instructed and shifted her body, grimacing at the discomfort from it. I ran my hand over her bare shoulders, attempting to vainly comfort her. I knew the pain of the child birth was horrible for her, but I also knew the pain of not having Stefán only a stone's throw away was even more so.

Since the day the men's ships had left the shore, I had stayed with Lára and her daughters. Once her water had come, I had sent the children to my house, instructing them to make a gift for new babe. Between Lára's pains, I had gone to check in on the girls then rushed back to Lára's side. It had comforted her to hear that her girls were crafting a doll from the rags I had lying around.

"You are ready to start pushing," the midwife told Lára as she settled herself behind her. She turned to me, a sheen of sweat covering her face already. "When the child comes, you need to pass me the knife."

I nodded and continued to rub Lára's back. When Astrid instructed her to push, Lára listened, giving a loud grunt. With only three pushes, the dark hair of the child could be seen. The midwife praised her on how well she was doing. I glanced behind Lára, not sure what to expect, only to find that the child's head and shoulders had already came out of the birth canal. With one last push, the child slid out of its mother and into Astrid's waiting hands.

I handed the knife to the midwife and watched as she sliced through the cord. She stood, gripping the baby lightly and swept it away before I see it properly. As she washed off its mother's juices, the babe gave a shrill scream and Lára breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Standing, I took a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around Lára's shoulders. I offered her my hand and helped her stand. "You did well," I assured, helping her to the bed.

Lára shook her head and lay down. "I shall never have another child. The pain was almost too much to bear."

Astrid turned towards us, the clean babe in her arms, a smile on her broad face. "You have a nice, healthy boy."

For the first time since the moment I had met her, Lára willingly let her tears run down her face as she sobbed. Her frail body shook, but I could not tell the cause of it. Was it joy she felt for having a son, or was it for the fact the child's father had missed it? She took the child when he was offered to her and he instantly took to her breast.

Even with a smile on my face, I could feel my heart shatter into tiny pieces. If not for the raid those many months ago, I would have been expecting mine and Pétur's first child in a matter of months. Shaking my head to stop my own flow of tears, I placed a gentle hand on Lára's shoulder. "He is strong and handsome. I shall fetch the other children."

I left the house and started towards my own. When I opened the door, I spied the girls sitting in a circle on the floor. Ingrid looked up at my entrance, a smile on her lovely face and the doll in her hands. "Valdís, we finished the gift!"

The girls moved to make room for me and I knelt in their circle. One of my plates sat in the middle of them, some sort of yellow paste in it. I took the doll that was offered to me and looked it over. It was rough looking, but splendid for the work of four children. They had used the old, cold ashes from the fire to draw on a face and used the yellow paste to paint the doll's hair and beard.

"Your brother shall love this gift," I told them, passing the doll back to Ingrid.

The girl took it back and cradled it tightly to her chest, a large smile blooming again on her face. "I knew we would have a brother." She looked down lovingly at the doll for a moment before meeting my eyes again. "We made it to look like Father. Our brother will grow to be strong like him."

I could feel tears pricking at my eyes at her words. "You are all very thoughtful girls."

"Father will be back soon, will he not, Valdís?"

"It has only been a week, my darling. It shall be many months before the men come back home." I stood and brushed the dirt off of my dress. "Would you like to see your brother?

The girls all agreed that they would and followed me back to their house. When we arrived, Lára sat tucked in bed, a under tunic covering her body. The babe was nestled in her arms, wrapped in his swaddling clothes. Lára smiled at her daughters as they climbed onto the bed around her, aching for their first looks at the boy.

Astrid was gone, as was the mess. The only sign telling that there had been a birthing was the new babe.

"Do you know what you shall name him?" I asked as I sat on the foot of the bed. It was customary to name the child at a naming ceremony, but with Stefán gone on a raid, I was unsure of what would take place.

"I will wait for Stefán to return before the ceremony is held. Oddi perhaps will be his name, after Stefán's father." Worry creased Lára's face and she glanced at her children. The girls were too engrossed with their brother to pay us any mind. "I do love him, Valdís," she told me and I knew she was speaking of Stefán, not their son.

"I know you do."

oOo

Months passed without any word of the raid or the men who went on it. The days grew much warmer and the planting took place by the men who had stayed in the village, their wives and the thralls. On a day where the sun was bright and the birds flying high, the ships that had left many months ago had been spotted come towards shore.

Villagers flooded down to the shoreline, wanting to be the first to greet the men from the ships. I walked down with Lára by my side, the girls running ahead, excited for their father to be home.

"I am aware you do not care for Jón, but please, Valdís, try to greet him as one would their husband," Lára told me as she soothed her son. We had been calling him Oddi, decided that even if Stefán did not agree, that would be the child's name.

Stefán was the first to step off a boat, a smile on his broad face. It was a sign that the raid was profitable and no men were lost. I watched as his daughters surrounded him and he embraced his wife. He gave her a passionate kiss before breaking away and eyeing the child in her arms.

"Stefán, this is your son. We have been calling him Oddi," Lára told her husband with great fondness.

The man's smile grew as he held his son in his arms for the first time. "Lára, you have made me a proud man. We shall have a naming ceremony soon."

Other men came off of the ships, hugging their wives and mothers, glad to be able to see them again. Jón followed behind a group of younger men, his eyes searching over the crowd. He started to walk towards me, but stopped at Stefán and began discussing something with him. I waited quietly until they were finished with their conversation before approaching him. Thinking of how Stefán had greeted Lára, I made a drastic decision.

Jón was silent, but a look of shock grew in his eyes as I placed my hands on his large shoulders and stood as tall as I could, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. He stood still as I did this, not pulling away until I was finished. Something fluttered low in my stomach, but I pushed it away. I had not been that close to a man since Pétur had passed and it was natural longing. Jón lowered his brows in a disapproving way and made his way away from me, back to the ship.

I looked away from his retreating figure only to find other villagers quickly looking away from me. Humiliation coursed through my body as I silently cursed Lára. Stefán and María both watched Jón leave, one with a scowl on their face, the other with a smirk. Lára gave me a piteous look, but she was the only one to meet my eyes. Seeing that most thought this awkward occurrence held Jón at fault, I decided to dig the knife deeper.

"I am glad you are back," I called loudly, the lie sour on my tongue.

oOo

The day after the men returned from the raid, when the sun was only beginning to ascend into the sky, a goat was slaughtered in honour of small Oddi. We, a small group of village women, prepared it for the feast that was to be held after the naming-ceremony. All who were close with the family of the chieftain gathered in a small grove, common for such ceremonies.

Family and friends gathered around the carved stone alter to bear witness to the Vatni Ausa. I stood near Lára, trying hard to be forgotten in the crowd. I could see Jón standing taller than most, but much to my relief he did not look my way. After the great embarrassment he had cast upon me, he had not returned to my house for his night-meals and we had not spoken.

The small babe lay naked on the new grass, ready for his father's close inspection. In older days just bringing the child to feed at your breast was a sign of keeping the child, but those days had long gone. It did not matter if the mother had grown fond of the babe, it would be the inspection by the father to determine the strength and wellness of the child that would decide if it was to be reared.

The crowd of people held a silence to them with only a small number of the elders muttering about the fine condition of the boy being heard. Stefán crouched low over the babe, scrutinizing every part of him before standing tall. "My son shall be a strong man when he is grown," he announced proudly, a smile crossing his lips.

Lára stepped forward from the crowd and scooped her son into her arms, only to deposit him carefully into her husband's. The babe looked diminutive compared to his father, his body the same size as the length of his father's hands. Lára took a small wooden bowl from the altar and held it out to her husband.

With his smile gone and his face now a mask of seriousness, Stefán dipped his fingers into the water. "I throw water on this child and give him the name Oddi, after his grandfather." He then sprinkled the water on Oddi's forehead, causing the babe to start from the chill of it. Making the sign of Thor's Hammer over the babe, a sign for the child to be protected, Stefán looked lovingly down at his son for a short moment.

With the child named, Stefán handed his son back to his wife and turned to begin the trek back to the long house for the húsel. We all followed behind him, causing me to wonder if there would be enough room to fit everyone in the house. As chieftain, Stefán shared his house with the number of events that happened within the year. Every húsel to celebrate a naming or marriage took place there.

As I entered, I noticed that the food was just how we had left it, spread over tables for all to feast upon. People quickly gathered around, placing their bodies wherever they could find a surface to sit upon. I took my seat next to Lára who had Stefán on her other side.

With the long house filled to its seams with villagers, I could easily stay away from Jón. I doubted he was even aware of my presence until it was time for the blessings and I said mine. As I stood I could feel his eyes burning into me, so I hurried my speech, took a quick sip from the drinking horn and passed it along to the next person. The drinking horn was passed around the room multiple times, each time with a new blessing to be said. Jón did not speak to his neighbours and only spoke when he was in possession of the drinking horn, causing me to pay great attention to the meal in front of me.

When the main part of the blót was finished, songs were sung and crude jokes were told. The elders told tales of the Gods, reminding us all of the things they had given us. Stefán told about his father, a man who had passed when he was only a boy, saying how Oddi shall possess the strength of him. Oddi was soon asleep in his mother's arms and I wondered silently how he could sleep in such noise.

After everyone had eaten their share, the sleeping babe was presented with gifts from each of the members at the feast. I sat on Lára's right while these gifts were presented, lowering my eyes when Jón pushed through the crowd to gain access to Lára and her child. He held out a small item, a tooth-gift for Oddi to cut his first tooth on.

"The Gods have given you a strong boy," he directed to Stefán.

I lifted my eyes, only to meet Jón's gaze. Words bubbled inside of me wanting to be set free. "I believe it was Lára who had given him this child. I did not witness any of the Gods giving birth to him."

Jón's face twisted into something between amusement and shock, though I was certain I saw the corner of his mouth lift slightly. Stefán let out a loud laugh, causing Oddi to wake. Even Lára smiled at my words. A small smile came to my face, causing Jón's face to resort back to a grimace. With a single mod to me, he turned and went back to his place near the wall. Perhaps it had been the joy of the occasion that had made him a bit warmer towards me or perhaps he was trying to subtly make amends.

With the rest of the gifts piled in front of the mother and child, I retrieved the small blanket I had been making since Oddi's birth from my pouch. I passed it to Lára, smiling as she studied it.

"Thank you, it is fine," she said, sitting it on top of the other gifts. Oddi squirmed in his mother's arms, making a soft cooing sound. "Oddi seems to appreciate it. Do you want to hold him?"

I nodded and held my arms out to receive the babe. He was soft and warm in my arms, filling me with the joy Lára must have felt with him. "A lovelier boy could not be found," I mumbled to the boy's mother as I ran a finger over his smooth, round cheek.

"You and Jón have not conceived yet," Lára told me, turning to keep her husband out of our conversation.

I grimaced at her words. Often I caught myself wondering about our life after marriage. It would be my duty as his wife to give him as many children as he wished for, but would he put aside his love for María long enough to make me with child?

Before I could reply to her remark, Stefán wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. I watched as he placed a gentle kiss on her brow and smiled towards their daughters who were playing with the other village children.

"You are a lucky woman, Lára."

Vatni Ausa – this literally means 'draw water' referring to sprinkling the water on the baby.

Blót – sacrifice (In every instance when I find this word in relation to a naming-ceremony, blót refers to the whole ordeal, not just the sacrifice

Húsel – a scared feast during the blót