Astrid had been correct in her predictions and I wondered what had caused me to question her. The evening after her visit, I found myself kneeling on the worn floor of my house, a scream ripping from my throat.

Lára assisted Astrid in the delivery of my child, our positions now reversed from Oddi's birth two years prior. I gripped onto Lára's hands tightly, squeezing every time the pain was too much to bare.

"I cannot do this!" I hissed between clenched teeth.

"Do not fret, Valdís. The first child always causes the most pain. After this one you will not have any problems," Astrid attempted to calm me.

My body spasmed as another wave of pain crashed over me like the waves on the beach. My teeth ground together and muscles tensed as I panted heavily. "I shall never allow Jón to touch me again!" I spat, digging my nails into Lára's skin. A smile met her thin lips despite the grimace on the rest of her face. I would have to apologize to the pain I caused the woman once this ordeal was finished.

The old healer took her place on the floor behind me and placed a chilled hand between my thighs. It was a spot where no one but my husband had ever touched and would have brought me embarrassment if not for my desperate need to birth my child.

"It is time, my child, your little one is ready to meet you." She must have signalled to Lára to assist her, for the other woman let out of my hands and moved away from me. Astrid placed a gentle hand on my back and guided me to my hands and knees. "Do not resist the urge to push, Valdís. I am aware you are a strong woman; put your strength towards your child."

With the woman's instructions, I hung my head, allowing my chin to meet my breast bone. My focused all of my might into freeing my child from my body. Silently I prayed to the Gods for a quick birth and a healthy babe.

Time passed slowly as I pushed, Lára's comforting words floating to my ears. Letting out a cried that burned my throat as it passed, I took the last of my power and pushed. White spots danced in front of my eyes, much as the snow did when it fell from the sky. I fell forward, my weight landing hard on my elbows, tears falling down my face. Gasping for breath, it hitched when a shrill cry penetrated the air. A sob broke from my mouth as I slumped forward.

Lára made soothing sounds as she cleaned me, praising me on the job I did. She wiped at my face and back with a cool cloth, washing away the sweat that had surfaced.

I watched over my shoulder as Astrid stood and motioned for Lára to come to her. The babe in her arms glistened in the firelight as it exercised its lungs. The healer passed the babe to the chieftain's wife and retook her place behind me, waiting for the after birth to be emitted.

My eyes were kept on my child, trying to get a glimpse of the babe as Lára washed off the birthing juices and blood with warm water.

Once the birthing was finished, a cloak was draped over my shoulders and Astrid assisted me in standing. On shaking legs I moved to a bench and sat down, hissing at the throbbing pain from my lower region. "My baby..." I croaked.

The crying had since stopped and Lára slowly came to me, the child bundled in her arms. "Do not agonize, Valdís. The Gods have blessed you with a very healthy son."

With extreme gentleness she laid him in my arms. Tears once again pricked at my eyes as I stared down at my son. He kept his eyes closed, but I knew they were the same blue as all other infants. His cheeks were plump and his nose a perfect little slope. On the top of his head was a light dusting of fine hair, the same gold as his father's.

"I give you my congratulations, Valdís," Lára said, her usual hard face soft. "I will stay with you for the night – there is much to learn with a new babe."

"I shall leave herbs and a salve for you. Apply the salve when you feel pain," Astrid instructed as she looked behind the curtain at my husband. "Boil the herb and drink it if you cannot find sleep."

"Do you believe Jón will live?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from my son and looking to the healer.

She allowed the curtain to fall back into place. "His health has not gotten worse in the days since his return," was all she said before bidding us good health and stepping out into the dusk.

"The little one will be hungry after his journey into our world," Lára told me as she walked away from me to clean the mess on the floor.

Tugging the cloak away, I brought the babe to my breast. I winced as he latched, but I could see Lára give me a slight nod of approval from the corner of my eye.

I held my son close as he fed, running my thumb over his soft cheek. Surely a more beautiful child had never graced the earth until now. I thought of the man behind the curtain, he would be overcome with pride of his son.

Leaning back against the cushions, my eyelids growing heavy. My eyes moved between my son, his mouth now in a little bow as he finished eating, and Lára who boiled water over the fire, washing away any signs that I had just given birth. Lára turned and spoke, mentioning Stefán's name, but I could not piece together her words. Slowly I rocked the boy, both of us falling into slumber.

When I awoke, my head was heavy and confusion came to me. My muscles were sore, my arms weak. As I shifted, a pain emanated between my thighs, reminding me of the first night I had laid with Jón. A heavy blanket was spread over me and as I blinked and became more aware of my surroundings, I saw that I no longer held my son. With a start I sat up, my eyes wildly scanning the room. Lára lay across from me on a bench, her chest slowly rising and falling. A small wooden cradle sat by the fire and I could see my son's face poking from the blankets. I wondered where the cradle had come from. Perhaps a gift sent from the chieftain or Astrid.

Pushing the blanket away, I gingerly moved my feet to the chilled floor and forced myself to stand. Slowly I walked to where Astrid had left the medicine. Placing the herbs in a small pot and pouring in water, I hung it over the dying flames. With an iron I poked at the logs in the fire and added another, causing the flames to jump high.

With two fingers I scooped the salve out of the small jar and applied the brown substance to the apex of my thighs, biting my bottom lip to stop from crying out.

Once the water began to boil, I carefully removed the pot from the flames and ladled some into a mug. I watched as the steam rose and swirled as I brought it to my mouth. Slowly I breathed in, inhaling the earthy smell that reminded me of the forest floor. I sipped until the mug was empty, enjoying the warm trail the drink had left on my insides.

A chill passed over me and I looked down to see that I still only wore the cloak Lára had draped over me after the birth. Going behind the curtain, I removed the cloak, allowing it to drop to the floor, and pulled an undershirt from the chest that held my clothing.

With the garment in place, I crawled into my bed, pulling the blanket around me. I shifted so that my elbow held me up and I could clearly see my husband's face. I traced his cheek as I had one my son's, willing for his eyes to open and for him to wake.

My heart felt calm as I watched him. He was passed the point of death and now I only had to wait for his fever to break. I still sent prayers to the Gods for his health and fed half of my meals to the fire as a sacrifice.

Leaning forward, I placed a kiss on Jón's still lips. How I wished for them to respond! "We have a babe – a son," I whispered in his ear as I laid my head on his shoulder and placed a hand on his slowly moving chest. I pressed myself against his warmth, careful not to touch his leg. My fingers slowly ran over the worn material of his undershirt.

"I assisted Lára in Oddi's birth, but I did now know my own would be so painful. I thought the Gods would take me." I closed my eyes, feeling the quick effect of the herbs taking over me. "But my curse has passed us and we are all alive – me, you and our son. I love you both."

When I awoke in the morning, I found myself just as I had been when I fell asleep. With a groan I pushed myself into a sitting position and stretched, smiling down at my husband. Sliding out of the bed, I washed my face in the cold water of the basin and ran a comb through my hair. Staring in the mirror, I wondered how my appearance could look so different in the span of a day. The darkness under my eyes had lightened and my skin was no longer pulled tight across my face.

I removed a red gown from the chest and pulled it over my head, smoothing it over my hips. My stomach was still round and swollen, but smaller than it had been.

Excitement coursed through me as I pushed aside the drape, wanting nothing more than to see my baby. I found Lára preparing the morning-meal as she cradled the newborn in the crook of her arm.

"You need not make us food," I said, drawing her attention to me. I walked forward and gently took my son, holding him to me and cooing.

"It is the one thing that I always wished someone would do after each of my children. You will need to eat to gain your strength back." Lára wiped her hands on her apron and peered down at the baby. "They are sweet when they are small. It makes a woman almost want to bare another." She shook her head. "I must return to my own children before I find myself wanting another babe to rear."

I chuckled at her words and spied the cradle, now pushed near the back of the house. "The cradle, is it a gift?"

"Stefán built it. He is quite a skilled woodworker."

"It is beautiful crafted." As I looked closer at the small bed, I could see a tree craved into the wood at the head of it. Knotted designs ran over the edges, mimicking those often found on jewellery. "Please give him our thanks."

With a nod Lára and I bid each other goodbye and I watched from the doorway until she disappeared over the hill. With the door closed behind me, I pulled down the front of my dress and fed my son. As he ate, I spun him the tales Afi told me as a child. Tales of the fairies in the forests and giants in the mountains.

When the boy had had enough, I swaddled him and placed him in the cradle. The smell of the morning-meal Lára had prepared reached my nose, causing my stomach to give a fierce growl. Salmon had been cooked on sticks over the fire which she then sat in a sauce made from butter. Apples from the autumn that had been preserved in honey shone in a bowl, their sweetness calling to me. I used my fingers to bring the fruit to my mouth, relishing in the sweetness that flooded over my tongue. Licking my fingers clean, I ate the salmon as quick as a starving man.

I cleaned the dishes and threw a piece of fish into the hungry flames, asking the Gods to allow my husband's fever to break and to safety guide him back to our world.

With a smile playing on my lips, I scooped up my son and placed a kiss to his soft forehead. We entered into the back of the house and I sat on the bed, angling the baby towards Jón.

"Jón," I called lightly, "I would like you to meet our son. He is a strong boy, plump and beautiful. His hair is yours."

Could the man hear me while in his feverish sleep? What would his reaction have been to see our son's birth? Would he have taken Lára's place in comforting me as was the norm for the father to do?

"I cannot give him a proper name until you are well... but I believe the name Magnús would suit him." Rocking small babe, I met his blue eyes. "Magnús, after your uncle. A caring and brave man who sacrificed his own life to save mine. I believe your father will agree with me for he brought me to him..."