Forcing a look of indignation or dismay required more energy than Bragi had, but he did try the withering glare again since he'd practiced so much. Idun didn't wither anymore than before. In fact, she might have withered less. Maybe Bragi wasn't hopeless at withering glares. Maybe Idun was just hopeless about withering. She was youth after all. Bragi could live with that. “I guess I can find it in my heart to forgive you anyway” he said, “just this once.” While he said this, Bragi moved closer. She looked so pretty under light shining through blanket. It was a very good shade for her. White was nice too. But not when she had too much. Bragi learned new things about her all the time.
When her lips touched his fingers, Bragi smiled. The cold had bit them all over, but she was slowly, methodically working the sting away. It made him wish he hadn't forgotten his harp, but that didn't get him down too much even then. Idun was a better music, all by herself. He'd forgotten how to live without hearing it. That had been the problem with the frost. The problem with the frost hadn't had a thing to do with frost at all.
Her other hand made its way to his hair and every muscle in his neck and shoulders immediately loosened. Idun was a scoundrel that way. She knew exactly what to do. She cheated. She didn't play fair. Nothing stopped her. Not even wet hair. His eyes closed for the briefest second. Then he looked at her again. Then she leaned in, and Bragi told her he loved her again with the kiss. Idun didn't even need to say anything else after that. But she did. Idun was a scoundrel that way. Bragi smiled. It was almost a smirk somewhere in the middle, but it ended on a definite smile note. He'd hold her to that promise. Bragi would follow her if he needed to. “What you need,” Bragi said, “is food. But I don't think we have anything still edible left. In the morning, which is in... a couple hours maybe, I'll go find some for you.”
Then Bragi pitched forward, and pulled Idun to the ground. He lay there, with his arm around her, staring at the cloth ceiling for a moment, before he pulled the blanket up a little further on her waist. Then he put the arm back. Being that close gave her added warmth. “I'm helping,” Bragi explained. “Maybe I should grow a beard,” he said offhandedly, “Then I could be even more helpful. Plus it would establish ethos.” His eyelids drooped again. He put his head near her shoulder, but not on it since his hair was wet.
“We'll expand east in a bit,” Bragi promised. “But if we meet any natives, we're calling off the project. It just wouldn't be fair to conquer them. Especially not with blankets.” He just didn't have it in him.