“There are many great costs associated with the birth of a god. The meat and mead alone will cost us a small fortune!”
—Valhalla’s kitchen records
I stared out over the high table in Valhalla, the noise overwhelming. The raucous laughter, the din of metal hitting wood, the occasional fist hitting flesh as the einherjar feasted and fought amongst themselves. The other gods were nearly all present, seated up the length of the table, paying me no mind. It had taken some poking and prodding, but they’d finally convinced me to come back. That the stares of others didn’t matter, that people loved me, and that more people missed me than I thought. And maybe they were right.
But now everything felt so surreal. It had all changed in an instant. Like it was split in two. Everything before this moment and everything to come. And no one else had noticed a thing. They were still eating and laughing as the wetness pooled around my thighs and soaked into my dress.
I reached out, still staring wide-eyed out over the room, pawing at the air until I hit Idunn’s arm.
She took my hand without looking, still talking to Bragi.
“Idunn.”
Her name came out as a whisper. I struggled to say it again. “Idunn. Idunn.”
She turned to me, a soft, curious look on her face. “What is it?”
“The baby.” I stared down at my lap. “I was so uncomfortable all morning, but everything is uncomfortable. I didn’t think—”
Confusion fell over Idunn’s face. “Sigyn, tell me what’s wrong.”
The words felt like they came from someone else, like I was far away. “My water broke.”
“Oh!” She jumped up, nearly knocking her chair over. “Yggdrasil shade us, it’s time!” She bolted out of her chair. “The baby is coming!”
Bragi didn’t move, just stared at Idunn, locked in place.
“I said, the baby is coming!” Idunn screamed it loud enough to silence the whole table of gods, each of them focused on her. No one said a word. “Are you serious? MOVE.”
Thor was the first one to his feet. He barrelled past everyone else and knelt down next to my chair. “Are you alright?”
I still wasn’t sure I was breathing. I nodded. “I thought I had another two weeks.”
Thor pulled the leg of my chair, turning it so I looked at him. “You’re going to be a mother.”
I blinked. “I’m going to be a mother.”
Thor stood back up, grabbed Idunn’s cup, poured the rest of her drink down his throat, and screamed out, “The baby is coming!”
The room broke into cacophonous roar, fists and drinks flying into the air.
I couldn’t catch my breath. Why was I only full of panic?
“Idunn, I’m not ready. Gods, what have I done?”
Idunn hushed me. “None of that. Everything is fine, and we are going to get you packed up and back home. Yes? Yes. Thor, pick her up and take her home. Bragi, go to the infirmary and tell Eir it’s time.”
I pressed a hand onto the table to help me get up. My dress stuck to my legs. Before I could take a step on my own, Thor had swept me into his massive arms, carrying me like some inflated maiden. “Nothing to worry about, hmm? I’ve got you.”
Once he reached the end of the platform, he stopped and looked back at the other gods, who were stuffing last bits of food and drink into them as they pulled their cloaks around their shoulders. “Bring enough food and drink to last the night! We have vigil to hold!”
◦ ● ◦
I’d had enough training to know that labour could take hours, sometimes days, but I hadn’t been prepared. You think you know a thing, and then the reality of it slaps you in the face.
Things had started so slowly and taken so long. I’d spent hours pacing the kitchen as the gods moved barrels of mead and crates of food, filling every nook and cranny with something for the festivities. Walking was good for the baby, they said. Deep breaths, they said.
The party was already underway when Eir and her apprentice came. So were the heavier contractions. The first one nearly buckled my knees mid-stride, and Idunn decided it was time to move me away from the drinking brutes. We settled into my bedroom as Eir and her apprentice, Fulla, gathered the things they’d need for the long night ahead.
They’d made the floor as comfortable as they could, with old cushions and blankets to rest on, the four of us sitting together as we waited. They told me stories as the contractions wracked through my body, using laughter to distract me from the pain.
From the absence.
As they kept time, checking my nethers and keeping me focused, the party was in full swing in my kitchen. The familiar voices of Thor, Odin, Hod, and even Freya came through the walls. We’d kept the door closed, but I’d been to a party or two like this before; they’d drink and sing and laugh until the baby arrived, no matter how many hours or days it took.
I reached for the water, and Fulla handed it to me. Sweat was dripping down my face and back, my body protesting what I’d done to it. The contractions were much closer than they’d been. I was so fucking ready for it to be over.
Eir ducked her head under my skirts again. “It’s nearly time. Are you ready?”
“No. Not at all. It hurts—” I broke off into a shallow scream. A chorus of cheers came from the other room. Now they knew as well.
Eir tipped her head at Fulla, who riffled through her bag and brought out a bottle of rune ink and a brush. She uncapped the bottle. The brush was barely a tickle as she drew runes across the back of both hands.
“You know what this is?” Eir asked.
“Pain relief,” I managed through gritted teeth.
“That’s right. Tell me how it works.”
I growled at her. “I know how it works; this is hardly the time—”
“Tell me. How it works.” The stern look on Eir’s face reminded me why I’d never argued with her during my own apprenticeship.
I spelled out the process for her between deep, sharp breaths and pained moans. The reason for each rune, what runes to choose for what types of pain, what alteration could be made. And by the time I was finished, the ink had disappeared under my skin, and the pain was a faint pulse.
I shook my head, sweet relief pouring over me. “Well done, teacher.”
Eir just smiled and dipped her head beneath my skirts again. “Alright Sigyn, up on your feet.”
It really was time.
Idunn and Fulla offered me their arms, sitting on either side of me as I squatted over the cushions. I strung myself from them, hanging from each of their necks, legs already weak.
“Remember your breathing. As soon as you feel a contraction, push. Are you ready?”
I’d seen this before; I knew what to do. But I wasn’t prepared for the way it would feel. I pushed, gritting my teeth and squeezing the hands of the women holding me up. Even with the runes, the pain ripped through me. I screamed, and the kitchen exploded with noise.
“Stop. No screaming, just breathing and pushing. In and out. Again. Push when you feel it.”
And so it went. Breathing, bearing down, growling, pushing. Each grunt loud enough to be heard by the others was responded to by the chorus of my friends and family outside the door cheering me on. As I tried to bring this life into the world, they sang bawdy songs, full of tits and slits and fucking. And then I heard nothing, felt nothing, beyond what was happening in my own skin.
Eir’s head sunk low to the floor, her hands outstretched beneath me. “I see him. We’re almost there. Give me a big push, Sigyn.”
I didn’t know if I could, I really didn’t. But I had to. It felt so impossible, but I pushed, willing my body to work with me, to be stronger than I thought it was. I pushed and felt something move and change, and when I was out of breath, I let the women hold me up, trusting them to keep me from collapsing. Every muscle in my body was shaking with exhaustion.
Eir’s head disappeared beneath me. “Breathe deep, love. He’s almost here. We’re going to breathe in and out and then push one very last time. Can you do that?”
I shook my head, tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Yes, you can.” Idunn pressed her forehead against mine. “He’s so close. You want to meet him, don’t you?”
I nodded, taking another deep, ragged breath.
“Alright. Now, Sigyn.”
I gathered up everything I had left and pushed, screaming long and loud, nearly drowned out by the unified uproar in the other room. Something gave, a pressure released.
Eir moved quickly, and I couldn’t see over the remaining swell of my belly. She sat up, a wet, pink bundle in her arms. Fulla helped sit me down and went to Eir’s side with a new blanket, water, and cloth.
I couldn’t believe how tiny he was. Only large enough to nestle in the crook of your arms. He was wet and red and purple, still connected to me until Fulla cut the cord. Eir wiped the slime from his face, and he howled.
The kitchen broke out into cheers, dancing feet thumping on the floorboards. Someone had found a drum, and the singing began again. A welcoming song.
Eir cleaned the baby while Idunn and Fulla ran warm, damp cloths over my body. I was too tired, too disoriented to care that I was slumped over naked, being washed head to toe. Whatever part of me might want to fight for dignity was lost in the sweet surrender of it being over. And slowly, the dawning of the thought that steps away was the child I had brought into the world. Waiting for me.
They pulled a fresh nightgown over my head and helped me up. My legs were barely mine, and they almost had to drag me to the bed. But once I was in it…gods, had anything ever been so soft?
“You’ve had a good birth,” Fulla said as she propped up pillows for me to lie against. “Very little tearing, and you’re both in good health. I need you to stay still, though. I’m going to use some healing runes, just as a precaution.”
I nodded. I knew all the rules. As she worked, I turned to Idunn who had settled in beside me, her legs curled under her. My eyes were fluttering, and I needed her to help keep me awake. “Thank you for being here.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”
“You’ll be having nightmares about my nethers for the rest of your life.” I did my best to crack a tired smile.
But she didn’t bite. She just kissed my cheek and squeezed my hand again. “You did so well.”
Eir approached the bed, the baby still crying, though softer than before. “He’s ready for you.”
I reached out, my tired limbs aching to hold my little boy. She passed him over carefully, cradling his delicate head. And there he was.
His eyes were shut tight, his face as wrinkly as an old man. A slick of flame-red hair sat on the crown of his head, and his skin was no longer the red-purple it had been when he’d come into the world. He was something between my bronze and Loki’s snow. All ten toes, all ten fingers.
He was perfect.
Eir helped me to feed him. It took forever to figure the damn thing out, but it was just one of the troubles of motherhood, she said. Once he was fed and had dozed off to sleep, it was time for the others to come in.
Idunn went out and closed the door behind her. She was greeted with a cheer, which she quickly hushed. Her muffled voice barely made it through the door, and when she opened it again, the entirety of the party filed in, as well behaved as could be.
They gathered at the end of the bed, all eyes on the baby and me.
Frigg bowed her head. “He’s beautiful.”
“A little wrinkly, don’t you think?” Thor laughed.
“And you’re well?” Hod looked tired but seemed to have more wits about him than some of the others.
I nodded. “I’m alright. Very, very tired, but good. Thank you for being here.”
Lofn came to my side and pushed my hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “Loki will be so proud of you.”
I blinked back tears as the crowd murmured their agreement, then fell into silence, not knowing what to say.
“Does he have a name?” Frey asked.
“He does.” I looked down at him, his fists curled up next to my skin, mouth wide open as he dreamt. “His name is Váli Lokason.”