Nimue sat by the fire and took up some mending to occupy her hands. Maric was pacing the floor, looking for all purposes like an excited little boy. She paused to look at him quizzically but he only busied himself with fixing her some tea. Finally, she could stand it no longer.<br/><br/>“You want to have a big ceremony? It is the ceremony that is so important to you or is it the celebration? I mean, you want all the pomp and circumstance with the priests and my priestess or do you just want to dress in our finest, and feast and drink and dance in the presence of all your family and friends? I live simply and do not, have never dreamed, of a wedding day in finery that makes me rival a princess in beauty. I do know how to party and celebrate for our customs of celebration far and away are some of the finest on the isle.”<br/>Nimue sat her mending aside and crossed the floor to put her arms around Maric.<br/><br/>“Darling, what ever you want, I want. I want you be happy and have all that you have ever dreamed of. I will paint Layla’s toenails a brilliant purple if you think that would bring you joy.” Her voice took on a huskier quality.<br/><br/>“I would bathe naked in the moonlight under the waterfall if that made the stars fall from the heavens for you. Tell me what you want, and I will gladly be part of it.” Nimmie stood on tiptoe and kissed Maric with passion and sweet compliance with just a hint of a promise. She took him by the hand and led him to the ladder of the loft.<br/><br/>“Maybe we should discuss this further in the privacy of our small chamber.” She suggested as she hoisted her skirt to the knee and began the ascent.