Pure

Finten and his men sat down for an early afternoon break. They opened the little bundles of food that Aoibh had given them after breakfast that morning and began eating.

A stray dog wandered over to them and begged for scraps. They eagerly shared parts of their lunch with the skinny mutt. It ate everything it was offered and then sat down next to Finten, leaning its back against his leg.

Finten scratched the dog’s ears absently, his mind on Maigred. On the way her eyes lit with fire when she was passionate. The way her jaw set when she was determined to do something.

He wondered what Treaseaigh had said to her that had made her angry. He realized his fists were clenching. He relaxed his hands and let out a breath.

The dog whined up at him.

Finten looked down into the dog’s sad brown eyes. “Are you still hungry?” He offered more of his food to the dog, who gulped it down gratefully, then nosed his hand. Finten mindlessly gave the dog another part of his lunch.

Finten wondered if his gift to Maigred had been too forward. He worried that she might be angry with him. After all he had refused her twice, and had told her very forcefully to stop trying to court him. He let out another breath, and decided that if she got angry at him, he wouldn’t be any worse off. She was already angry at him most of the time.

Gusan rose, brushing crumbs from his lap. He looked over at Finten and laughed. “Did you eat any of your lunch, or did you just feed it all to the dog?”

Finten looked down in surprise to find his lunch was gone. He frowned a little. “I ate.”

“Really? It looks like the dog ate, and you daydreamed.” Gusan smirked. Several of the others grinned and elbowed each other.

Finten’s heart turned in his chest again, abruptly feeling warm and relaxed. It had been a long time since his men had had something to really celebrate over, something that they could tease and joke about. Maybe his relationship with Maigred, little as it had been, had already run its course, but she had given this moment to his men and he was grateful.

He waited a few more minutes, still petting the dog, his mind still on the other side of the town, wondering what Maigred was doing and how she was feeling, before telling his men that it was time to get back to work.

They worked with a will, everyone looking forward to the dinner they had been invited to eat at the inn that night.

As dinner approached, Finten began to get uneasy. What if he had angered Maigred? What if she was angry enough that she didn’t want to have him around? Would she throw his men out too? He didn’t think she would, but he was still concerned that his presence might ruin the evening for them.

When he and his men arrived at the inn, he slipped around the back instead of going through the front door with the others. When he let himself into the kitchen, he saw only Maigred in the kitchen. She was leaning on the worktable, frosting cookies.

She tilted her head towards him slightly. “Cathal, bring in some wood for the stove, would you?”

Finten gave a nod and let himself back out the door. He carried in several loads, until he filled the woodbox, then went back out and washed his hands under the pump. It was late enough in the day that the water had already turned icy.

He let himself back into the kitchen and hesitantly went over to where Maigred was still working. “Hello, Maigred.” He said softly.

She looked up in surprise. “Oh,” she glanced behind her, then back at Finten. “Hello Finten.” She went back to spreading pink frosting over the square cookies. “How are you tonight?”

Finten watched her face carefully for any signs of anger. Sometimes it had been hard for him to tell if Caevah was angry, but so far he hadn’t had any trouble being able to tell when Maigred was angry. He hoped he was reading her correctly tonight.

“I’m worried that I might have made you angry.”

She glanced at him. “Really?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Are you angry?”

There was a moment of silence before she said. “Should I be?”

Finten shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know. The rules of being polite in society have always been difficult for me to understand. I tend to go with my instincts and then later I end up worrying about who I might have offended. Like licking plates after you’re done eating, why is that rude? Isn’t it a compliment? Are we supposed to just let the last bits of food go to waste for some strange rule that doesn’t make sense?”

Maigred smiled. “Would you like a cookie?” She held the cookie she had just finished frosting out to him.

He looked at it for a minute, his forehead still creased. Then he looked up at her. “Are you angry at me?”

“No, Finten. I’m not angry at you.”

He gave a nod and took the cookie. “Thank you. I was worried that you might not want me here tonight. I was worried that you might tell us to leave and I didn’t want my men to suffer because of me.”

“You and your men are always welcome here,” Maigred said, her eyes focused on the next cookie she was frosting.

Finten gave a nod. “Thank you, Maigred. That means a lot.” He ate his cookie and watched Maigred spread frosting. She had her hair tied back today.

“What were you doing today? More road surveying?”

“Yes.”

He watched her deft fingers, amazed at her precision as she quickly and effortlessly spread the perfect amount of frosting across the surface of each cookie.

Her fingers stopped moving.

“Well?” Maigred said.

He looked up at her. She had an amused and expectant expression on her face.

“You’re very good at frosting cookies.” He said.

The corner of her mouth pulled up. “You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?”

He shook his head. His eyes searched her face for irritation, but she just shook her head and went back to frosting cookies. “You should go out and eat.”

“You’re in here.” He pointed out.

“I’m working.”

“I can help. What can I do?”

Maigred looked at him for a moment, as if she were trying to read the thoughts in his mind. She put down the frosting knife in the bowl of frosting and set the cookie she was holding down on the table, got a plate, went to the stove and began willing the plate with food. She grabbed one of the chairs form the corner, where Cara usually sat during the day, and brought it over to the table. “Sit.” She said. Finten sat. She handed him the plate of food, then began frosting cookies again.

He looked down at the plate of food, There was several chunks of roast meat, potatoes, onions, carrots, and two thick fluffy biscuits. His mouth watered. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m working.”

His eyes caught on the sure movement of her fingers, hypnotically repeating the same motions over and over again, and he forgot everything else.

“Is the food not good?” Maigred asked.

Finten turned his attention back to the plate. His mouth watered again. He felt awkward about eating while she was working, but she seemed to want him to eat. He took a bite of the roast. It was tender and full of flavor. His eyes closed, as he lost himself in the flavors that spread across his tongue. He forgot about everything but eating for a while. When he had eaten everything on his plate Maigred said, “you can help yourself to more. It’s on the stove.”

Finten swallowed, considering. His tongue begged him for more, but his stomach was content. “Thank you. I’m satisfied.”

“If you want to lick the plate, I wont judge you.”