Idunn's Apples

He folded his hands behind his head and smiled in a very satisfied way. Then he frowned. "You were to marry King Argent!"

"I didn't want to. I wanted a Viking husband." She tapped him upon his chest.

"There will be trouble..."

"There will be no trouble, Olaf." She shook her head and her long blonde hair fell over her shoulders. "Argent wanted my father's lands, and now he possesses them. He'll find some other lord's daughter to be his queen and all will be well. I left a letter stipulating that he was to manage my father's lands and explaining that I was not returning."

"You shouldn't have come!"

"Yes, yes, I know, dear Olaf." She rolled her eyes at him. "You're too old and I'm too young. Although I think you proved that a falsehood last night." She patted her belly. "Do you think your seed took already, or are we going to have to keep trying?" she asked flirtatiously.

Olaf sat up. "Look, Morag. I'll take you back to Ingrid and Sigurd. I'll order them to return you to Argent. You'll be queen of your people! I could never offer you anything like that!"

A crafty smile took hold upon her face. "It's too late for that now. Ingrid and Sigurd spent much of the night spreading the story that you sent them to steal me away. Apparently, it's an old Viking tradition. Now we've spent the night here in your tent, and all of your men think you've chosen me as your wife."

"They did what?" he roared.

"Oh, let your anger die, Olaf. It was my idea, so you've no cause to be upset with them."

"Your idea?" he asked, realizing that he had been out-thought by her.

"Yes," she admitted, "clever, wasn't it?"

A few seconds passed, then: "Yes. I never doubted your mind, Morag."

"I know. We're both thinkers, Olaf."

He laughed. "Now what, oh great plotter?"

"Well, when we leave the tent, we observe how well the loading of the boats is going. I will walk by your side, and everyone will know that you've claimed me. When we arrive in Midgard and you ready yourself for battle, I'll bring your shield and axe to you. And when you return victorious, I'll feed you and bring you to bed where we'll celebrate again."

He stared at her shrewdly. "You do have this all worked out, don't you?"

"Yes, Olaf. Now"-she pushed him onto his back, then lay atop his chest-"it is several hours before high tide. I had Sigurd check with some of your men last night. I thought we might try again to get me with child." She brushed his cheek with her fingers. "There is no guarantee that I already carry your child, so we'll have to enjoy ourselves as much as we can. Or, are you too old...?"

Olaf wrapped his arms around Morag, hugging her against him. "Too old? I'll show you who's too old!"

The end.