Once the signs of summer filled the land and the temperature rose, my marriage to Jón was taken into consideration. The only thing I owned of my own was Magnús' sword, something I would never let go of, meaning there was no dowry to speak of. The only thing I could give to Jón was myself and I was not certain if I could even do that.

On an overly warm night, common for this side of the island, I sat across the table from Jón in my small house. He stopped joining me as frequently as he had when I first arrived and now we only ate together twice a week. Although the amount of our time together had changed, the silence throughout them had not. I was prone to asking question, finally being able to be comfortable around the large, sullen man. Jón, however, was prone to answering in one or two words.

I picked at my food, feeling ill in the warm summer heat. I was irritable, whether from the damp feeling my clothes got in this weather or from the silence in the room, I was not sure. Tonight Jón did not even answer my questions with words, only with low grunts. His mind was far away and I knew it was on the golden haired woman who always held it.

If we were to wed in the next month, I would not allow my husband to dream of another woman. I pushed aside my thoughts of Pétur for him; it was the least he could do for me to rid her from his thoughts. When I spoke, I was shocked by how much hostility my voice held. "Why is she still in your thoughts?"

Just as I had expected, Jón kept his eyes pointed down to his meal, ignoring my question entirely. He had grown more distant since my arrival, causing my emotions to rise.

I glanced down at my own meal and gently reached a hand up to push the plate away, not wanting to finish the food on it. "I am to be your wife; will you ever look at me the way I see you looking at her?

Jón stopped eating, his gaze slowly moving to me. He finished chewing the food in his mouth and swallowed. When he was finished, he picked up his wine in a large hand and took a long drink, watching me with dark eyes.

"Will you please give me an answer?" I was tired of the silence that hung over us and wanted to break it.

"If there was any patience in your person, woman, you would have ceased your talking at the first question.

I pressed my lips together tightly, trying for once to be obedient to my sombre betrothed. Jón studied me, but still did not speak. I waited, fidgeting under his intense green gaze.

"I love her," he said simply, breaking the silence. I had learnt in my short time with him that while Jón did not say many words, he always said what was needed. Perhaps that was the reason why the villagers always listened intently to him when he spoke.

"You once did or you currently do?" I asked, wanting him to be clear.

"I do."

I looked down at where my hands laid in my lap. "I assume you shall keep with us after we are married?"

Jón did not verbally answer my last question, but I could tell from his silence what the answer was. With the conversation seeming to be over, Jón returned to his meal.

I watched him for a moment, questioning the tears that pricked at my eyes. "I need to get some air," I told Jón as I stood. He did not acknowledge that I spoke and focused hard on his meal as I reached for the door. As it opened, a warm gust of air hit my face, greatly welcomed. I walked down the dirt path from the small house to the empty beach. The black water hit the rocks, creating white caps, being the only way I knew where the sea and the sky separated.

When I came to the hard sand that crunched underfoot, I sat down. The tears that had burdened me moments ago slowly rolled down my cheeks. I lifted my hand to brush them away, but more flowed in their absence. Thousands of stars danced overhead as my tears fell, blurring them to me. I had grown to care for, perhaps even enjoy, this village I had stumbled upon and the people who lived here too. Many, if not most, accepted my presence except the one whom I would be most intimate with. He still had his heart set on an old dream.

Hearing the sound of heavy footfalls behind me, I turned my body almost expecting it to be Jón who followed me, but seeing Stefán. Despite the heat, Stefán wore a light white fur cloak. "How do you fare, Valdís?" he asked in a voice that told me he was much better than I.

"I am fine," I lied, cursing the tears on my face. I looked over the beach, away from him to hide my tears from him.

"I have been chieftain of the village for many years; I believe I am able to tell when someone is lying to me. I witnessed you coming from your house with a woeful look on your face." Stefán took my hand in his hard one. "Now tell me what has happened."

"I once again found myself speaking what was clouding my mind. While we were having our night-meal, I questioned Jón about if he will ever care for me the way he does for María." I dropped my voice into a whisper. "He informed me of his love for her."

"You do not love him," Stefán answered me in a knowing voice.

I shook my head gently. "No, my heart is still Pétur's." Even with knowing that he was gone, I could not help but still feel connected to him. He had been my first love, the only person from my village outside of my family to accept me – it would be difficult to replace him.

With a nod, Stefán let go of my hand and stood, tugging his cloak around him. "I must get back to the wife and the little ones."

I followed suit and went back to my house. I took a deep breath when I arrived at the door, wondering if Jón would still be sitting at the table. When I opened the door, I exhaled. The table still held the plates and food, but the chairs at it were empty. I walked into the house and focused on removing the objects from the table. There was no reason for me to believe that Jón would still be present at my house upon my return. Even if it had not seemed so, I had been gone for almost an hour – too long for Jón to wait for me.

I poked at the fire to spread the ashes over the remaining flames before changing into my under tunic and going to the back of the house. My thoughts were on Jón, as they had been for many nights, as I climbed into bed and pulled my thin blanket up to my chin.

I was aware that love was not a factor in marriage, not when there was a large dowry or a higher aspect to look to. I was not in possession of any dowry and Jón had not needed to pay a bride-price; I was simply a woman who could stop a rift in the village. When I had first laid eyes upon Jón, he seemed disgusted at the thought of wedding me. Most men would have easily agreed, knowing there were other women available to him after our marriage. It was common knowledge that thralls were allowed to be bed by any man who owned them and it did not seem that I would be able to stop Jón from doing as he wished once we were wed.

Perhaps if something were to happen to Jón, after the bonding, you could choose to do as you wished, a small voice from somewhere deep inside of me whispered. I was appealed by the thought, even if I knew it was true. As a widow I would be able to choose to wed who I wished or not remarry if I chose to.

These were not the thoughts a woman should have before she was to be handed to her husband. I shook my head and lowered my eyelids, hoping for sleep to find me swiftly.

oOo

There was no bride-price to be paid before my wedding. Jón did not have to secure his spot with me as neither of us had a choice on the marriage. I had no father to receive the payment for me, but also to give Jón a dowry for me.

The morning of my marriage to Jón, I was woken by a loud knocking on my door. Climbing out of bed, I wrapped my cloak around me and walked to the door. I opened it to reveal Lára and another village woman, Sunna. I was aware that they were at my door to ready me for my wedding, but I had no interest going with them. There was no reason for me to go through all of the preparation of a bride.

"I do not need you to help me. Jón will not notice if I am tended to and perfected." I attempted to keep my voice pleasant with them as I moved to close the door. Lára was faster than I and caught the door before it had sealed.

"Do not fight with me this morn, Valdís," Lára told me as she pushed the door open. It was surprising that such a small woman could show such strength. "We are to take you to the bath-house so please come with us."

I briefly closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the morning air drifting through the door. "Allow me to dress and I will be with you soon."

A small smile came to Lára's lips. "No, Valdís. Wrap your cloak tightly to your body and it will be enough to shield you. It is only a short walk to the bath-house; we must leave your old clothing behind."

I sighed and pulled the cloak tightly around me, hoping for it to cover all of my body. Without bothering to gather my footwear, I stepped out into the sunlight, the ground rough under my bare feet. We passed many people in the small dirt streets, each of them nodding to my small party, causing my cheeks to warm at the thought of them witnessing me in only a cloak.

Upon reaching the bath-house we found Íris removing hot stones from the fire and placing them in a large wooden tub. Steam rose from the tub with each small splash, creating a humid feeling in the air. Without a word to any of the women, I let my cloak fall to the floor and climbed into the bath. The heat of the water made me hiss, but soon my muscles were relaxing.

Sunna wordlessly passed me a crude bar of soap, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips. "It is not easy to live with a man," she told me as she kneeled next to the tub and looked me in the eyes. "As women we are taught to keep a household, but not taught how to care for a husband – it is something we all learn in time."

Lára moved forward with a small pitcher in her hands and filled it with water from the bath. "We are lucky to have the wisdom of others on our wedding days, or we would not know how to live with them." She emptied the pitcher over my head, causing me to gasp. "Having a husband is not as simple as living with a father or brother."

I listened in silence as the women continued to give me advice on how to live with Jón. When the water had cooled and I was ready to vacate the bath, my skin was red and rubbed raw from the scrubbing. My hair smelled faintly of flowers, a change from the plain soap smell that followed after other washings.

Stepping out of the bath, I was immediately caught by the wrist by Lára and pulled towards another wooden tub of water. I cried out in shock at the coldness from it as I stepped in, a chill moving up my body. Lára placed two delicate hands on my shoulders and pushed, forcing me to sit. Without a word of warning she plunged my head under the water and then pulled be up.

"You are now cleansed of your old life, Valdís," she whispered with a small swell of pride in her voice. "You have come a long way since you first arrived."

My teeth chattered slightly as I stood, awaiting a cloak to be handed to me. Sunna passed me my cloak and helped me out of the cold water tub just as a small voice came from the doorway. "Mama, the dress!" cried Margrét as she bounded through the door, a smile on her sweet face.

Lára walked out of the bath-house and conversed with the deep voiced person standing outside, most likely Stefán. She returned shortly after with a gold gown. It was one I had worn many times since arriving, though it was in better condition than the others I owned. Quickly I was dressed in it and was escorted back to my small house by Íris and Sunna while Lára stopped at her own house to gather the bridal crown.

This would be the last time I would step foot in the small house Stefán had assigned to me when I had first arrived at the village. It had been the only place I could act as myself, save the short times Jón had been forced to join me for a night-meal. After tonight I would be living in Jón's house. I had never been inside it, but I had seen it from afar many times. It was a large stout house, one of the grandest in the village. He owned a large amount of sheep, enough to make any man proud, along with a handful of goats.

I sat on the rickety chair I always did during my night-meal. Sunna took a thin-toothed bone comb from the pouch at her hips and ran it through my hair, untangling the knots that had formed overnight. It now fell in waves to the middle of my back, having grown substantially since I had cut it off in the winter. I had regained my previous look, the one I had before I ever found this village, before my own had been destroyed. My body had filled back out to its normal size and my bruises had faded quickly enough. The men of this village now looked at me with a new view, much like the men of my own village, though if one were to pay mind to how Jón acted one would think I still had the look I did when I stumbled into the village.

The door of the house opened and Lára stepped inside, holding a circular object in her hands. "My daughters made this for you," Lára said, holding the object out to me. My heart pinged at the sight of the bridal crown. I would never wear the lovely crown woven with delicate gold pieces that Mother had tucked into a wooden chest at the back of our house.

"Thank you," I murmured, gently running my fingers over the small flowers that were woven through the straw. It was crudely made but would suffice for the occasion. Sitting the crown on my combed hair, I stood and gave the three older women a weak smile.

While the women were readying me at my house, Stefán and other married men were taking Jón to the bath-house. I assumed they would be telling him of similar things the women had told me. Stefán would tell him how to be a successful husband and how to raise our children. The men would jest about women and our ways, just as the women had jested about men.

"Now we will leave for your marriage to Jón," Lára said, letting the two other women leave the house before us. "It does not matter what happens after we step out the door, you are Valdís Tómasdóttir – nothing can change that."