You and Odysseus had recently married...And he wanted to give you everything. He adored you. Ithaca had been his world before but now it was you...He'd give you the moon and the stars if you asked and when you made a joke about your wedding bed he eagerly decided to take your ideas seriously and start a project.

Teasing him you said that you're wedding bed shouldn't be made out of dead wood but should be made from a live tree...so that you're love would forever grow and expand and thrive.

And as soon as you brought up the idea he was sketching out plans for it...Odysseus loved you for you're intelligence...he valued you're ideas and thoughts and suggestions more than anything else in the world. You weren't just his wife you were his intellectual equal...and he wanted to do this for you.

He picked an olive tree to carve the bed into, the tree his goddess Athena had gifted to Athens...The wood smelled sweet and was strong and the leaves and branches twisted up beautifully. And between it all was nestled a place for a mattress.

You watched him work on it, happily laughing with you. He'd carve the frame and you'd weave and you'd tell riddles and stories and jokes to eachother until finally he seemed satisifed with it. The mattress is slotted in and the bed is made, the pillows fluffed and the silk sheets smoothed down. He looks at you fondly. "There...how's that my love? You think that will keep our love growing?" He chuckles.