Just remember that I'm here for you if you need me." Maric said, wrapping an arm around Nimue to comfort her. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I'll be your shoulder to cry on if need be.<br/><br/>Nimue smiled up at him, enjoying the warmth of his body and the kindness of his offer. The wind began to whip the tree tops.<br/><br/>"Anyways, I'll help you get started on that fire!" He continued, changing the subject. "I'll get to chopping wood once I'm out of my armor."<br/><br/>While Maric worked on his armor, after waving away Nimue’s help, she worked with her flint and fire starter to begin a spark in the dried kindling in the fireplace. The wind would roar down the chimney and once the burst of air even blew out her infant flame but by the time Maric arrived with some more substantial wood, she had a merry flame licking up the tinder.<br/>“Thank you, my Lord.” She said with a sweet smile from the place where she crouched before the hearth.<br/><br/>He went back out with a bucket and Nimue frowned but she drug the wooden table to the center of the room where she placed the fat beeswax candle. Lighting it with a burning sliver of wood, she surveyed the room. Dust was covered the rustic surfaces, the dirt floor was littered with blown leaves and some squirrel had stockpiled nuts in a corner.<br/><br/>“Well, Sir Squirrel, I will just borrow those for a snack, thank you very much.” And Nimue curtsied to the corner as if to the actual squirrel. After dusting and sweeping, she headed up to the loft to make sure said squirrel had not nested in the bed. The green coverlet was dusty but dry and free of nesting materials. The thatched roof had done a decent job of keeping out the daily rain. Nimue pulled the coverlet from the bed and gave it a hearty shake after which she plumped the hay and corn shuck mattress and plumped the feather pillows. As she was finishing with the bed, the door opened and shut. Lightening lit up the sky outside the little cottage and thunder shook its walls. Nimue frowned as she descended the ladder. Rain was an every day occurrence but bad storms were rare. She knew that Layla who hated storms, would have returned to her cave at the first crackle in the sky.<br/><br/>In the main room, Nimue saw a bucket of water on the table by the candle and a gourd which had been freshly wetted.<br/><br/>“Oh, Sir Maric. I never meant for you to haul wood and water like some common man. But thank you,” she dipped the gourd into the water and used a small portion to cleanse her hands before bringing out the bread and cold meat from her bag. These she tore into chunks, placing the meat between two pieces of bread for a man-sized meal and handed them to Maric.<br/><br/>The rain began to fall in earnest and Nimue knew that Rupert would be hold up in his hut with his whiskey jug so the ferry would run no more this night.<br/><br/>“I will return tomorrow to cook for you. Avalon feeds her guests and you are welcome to hunt in our woods if you so desire. I will make sure your needs are met so if you need more wine , bread or even a dainty fare such as sweet biscuits, I will bring them for you.”<br/><br/>She poured some wine into gourds and handed him one.<br/><br/>“My Lord, I must stay until the storms have passed. If you are tired, the bed is in the loft for your rest.  I will stay here, out of your way by the hearth and feed the fire.”