I stood in winter sunlight of the sacred grove with my husband at my side. Those closest to us stood around us, the chieftain and his family, Astrid and Sunna. Magnús lay on the ground, atop his father's warm fur cloak, protecting his delicate skin from the cold snow.

Jón crouched down low to inspect our son for any imperfections, but we both knew he would find none. Magnús' skin was pale and free from any blemishes; his shocking blue eyes stared up at us. With the smallest of smiles, Jón wrapped the babe in the cloak and picked him up, his thick arms and chest protecting the boy from the cold. "My son is already a strong boy," he announced to the crowd.

In my hands I held a dish of water for Jón. He dipped his fingers into it and sprinkled the liquid over our son. "I throw this water on the child and give him the name of Magnús, after his uncle."

Magnús squirmed, his arms waving and tiny legs kicking as the frigid water touched his skin. He made a sign of the Hammer over the boy and with that simple motion, the ceremony was complete.

I took our son from Jón, placing a kiss to his plump cheek and smiling down at the boy. The group moved ahead of us towards the longhouse, the children throwing snow at each other as they went.

"I apologize for my words yesterday," I told Jón once the crowd was far ahead of us. I walked slowly next to him, forcing my steps to fall in line with his uneven ones. "I was allowing my emotions to control my words."

Jón nodded and kept his eyes forward. I hummed when he did not say anything, looking away. "I am also to blame," he finally said.

I glanced back up at him and a smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. "I believe this may be the first time you have taken responsibility for yourself since we have met." I looked ahead of us, my eyes squinted to protect them from the sun reflecting on the crisp snow. "Perhaps becoming a father has changed you." There was mirth in my voice as I said this, though Jón still lowered his brows at me.

Entering the longhouse, I took my place in a seat next to my husband. Jón poured golden mead into the ceremonial drinking horn, signalling the beginning of the Sumbel. The first round of the Sumbel was marked with thanks given to the Gods and Goddesses of the drinker's choosing.

When the drinking horn once again found itself in my husband's large hand, Jón offered a blessing to his father. It was only when I listened to the words leaving his mouth that I realized he had never told me of his family, not even mentioning them in passing.

Jón drank from the horn and passed it to me, our fingers briefly brushing. I stared into the horn at the amber drink, allowing my words to ring out, loud and clear. "I send a blessing to my brother, Magnús." I reached out my empty hand and gently touched my son's head, now curled in Jón's arms. "A more giving man has not lived, for he gave his life to save my own. He gave me protection, even when he was without strength. Now I honour him by giving his name to my son." I allowed the mead to spill over my tongue and pass the horn to Lára.

The night drew longer with more drink and food passing over lips. Even with the noise carried through the longhouse, sleep found the small babe who was then in my lap. Taking him to the back where the other children gathered, I placed him in a basket and rejoined the gathering.

I retook my seat with Lára and Sunna, our conversation quiet as the men swapped boisterous stories. Men who had accompanied our husbands on the raids had joined them around the fire and now they spoke loudly together.

"If one were to tell me I would be attending the Vatni Ausa of your son as I was readying you for you marriage, I would have laughed and thought them foolish," Sunna said as she placed slice of honeyed apple in her mouth. "I believed you would have called for a skilnaður before the end of the first year."

I laughed along with her, but Lára did not join us. "I would have, if not for Lára threatening me. I do not think the chieftain is the one to be feared."

A small smile came to Lára's lips and she raised her thin eyesbrows. "My husband is too soft of a man. I would not allow you to call for a skilnaður because I knew the marriage would succeed. I am the mother of five children, I always seem to know what is right."

"Your words are making you sound like my mother did!" I told her with a light shake of my head.

Sunna leaned forward, her head tilted to the side. "Valdís, you have never told us of your family, only of your brother."

I swished the drink in my hand, watching the smooth liquid become rolling waves in the small area. "My father was a good man who doted on my brother and me. He was not a warrior, but instead a fisher. Papi would be very proud of little Magnús."

"And your mother?" Lára asked.

"Mother thought her purpose in life was to see me married. She prized me as men prize their livestock. When Petur offered me marriage, she thanked the Gods for blessing us." Another small laugh escaped my mouth. "I can only imagine her reaction if she were to see Jón!"

"Tell me more about this Petur," Sunna whispered.

I glanced at Lára who in turned look at Jón. I followed her gaze, but Jón paid our little group no mind. "We grew up together in our village. He was a very kind man, gentle. In looks he was the opposite of Jón – he had dark hair that would curl and fall just below his brow. Petur was tall, but not thick like my husband. A dimple was right here." I touched a finger against my left cheek as I said this. "He was hardworking and had the charisma of any chieftain."

Sunna's next question caused me to drop my head, suddenly ashamed of my sweet words. "Do you still love him?"

"I love him as much as any person can love someone who has died."

Lára's eyes bore into me and I could see her thoughts moving behind them. "And Jón, how would you describe him?"

"A stubborn and foolish man."

The corner of Lára's mouth quirked up and she nodded her head, signalling for me to continue.

I gave a sigh. "Jón is tall and strong. His hands can be gentle as he holds our son, but they also make him a great warrior. His hair calls of spun gold, lovely and fine." My eyes moved to my husband, taking in his appearance as I described him. "His eyes are like grass on an early spring morning when there is still frost. My husband is the most stubborn man I have ever encountered, but he makes me feel how no one ever has. We always seem to be arguing – he starts a fire in me that will only be extinguished if we fight or—" I cut my sentence short and made an embarrassed sound.

One of Sunna's brows was raised high as she studied me. "You speak like a true woman in love!"

I felt bashful and pressed a hand to my heated cheek. "I do love him, though he angers me so."

Lára reached out a hand and patted my knee. "I am proud of you, Valdís. You have matured greatly since your arrival, I know that all can see it. Now you have no need to discuss skilnaður."

"Well, I may threaten him with it if he continues to be so stubborn." I placed my cup on the table and raised from my chair. "I must get Magnús home, it is growing late."

"Perhaps you will soon be blessing little Magnús a little brother or sister," Sunna said, placing a hand on my stomach.

A loud laugh bubbled from my chest as I swatted her hand away. "I only just had a child!" I bent at the waist and placed a kiss to Lára's cheek, thanking her for her hospitality. Going to the back of the house, I bid the children good night as I collected Magnús from the basket.

"I am returning home now," I announced to Jón as I came to stand by his side.

"I will join you." Jón threw back his head, finishing the rest of the mead in his cup. He then grabbed his walking stick and pushed himself to his feet.

As I passed Stefán, I placed a hand on his shoulder, thanking him for all his family had done.

Stepping out into the cold, I pulled my cloak around my son, burrowing him close to my breast. I looped my other arm through Jón's and we begun towards our farm. "Sunna believes that there will soon be another child in our house," I told him as the snow crunched underfoot. "But I think Magnús is the only child I need at the moment."

"I agree with you," Jón said as he glanced down at me momentarily.

I moved closer to his side, glad for the heat that came from him. "I do want more in the future – if you do not cause me to leave you first."

We continued on in silence, only speaking once we were in the warmth of our house. "I cannot stand this bitter cold; I will welcome spring with open arms," I declared as I hung my cloak by the door. "I think this is the coldest of winters yet."

I kissed my son's forehead and wished him sweet dreams before placing him in his cradle and making certain he was warm enough.

Jón moved to the back and began readying for bed, causing me to raise my voice. "Jón, you mentioned your father in your speech tonight. Will you tell me more about your family?" I poked at the fire and added more wood, causing embers to fly out of the hearth. I then followed behind my husband, stripping from my dress and changing into my shift.

"There is nothing to tell," Jón said as he leaned the walking stick against the wall and sat on the bed. "My father farmed as I do and he died during a raid when I was young. My mother took sick eight years ago and passed."

We laid in bed and I snuggled closely into his side. "My mother would be very proud of you, Jón. She would be happy I married such a handsome, strong warrior." Stretching out, I placed a kiss to his bearded cheek. "Good night, husband."