She had spent all day at the forge. Just as she had begun to get hungry, a vendor had wandered by with a cart of meat pies and she had bought two for herself. Pausing for a couple of minutes, she ate one, throwing a portion of it to Dex and pocketing the other for later. A little after closing, Liam came in, organizing things to leave. As he was about to whisk out of the door, he turned to her.

"Long day. You must be tired. And hungry," he said.

Rhys threw the sword into the cooling vat with a sigh and glanced up at him for a moment before dropping her gaze. "I think I'll stay a little longer."

Liam was standing in the open doorway, bent over and affectionately patting Dex's exposed belly. He stood, leaned against the doorjamb, and raised a brow. "You aren't going to eat?"

In response she pulled the small meat pie out of her pocket and held it up to demonstrate her quick, conservative supper. Liam said nothing, but cleared his throat as if to say something.

"Well," he said, turned and heading out the door. "Make sure to put out the fire in the forge before you leave. And don't work too late. You'll feel like hell in the morning."

Rhys worked into the night, making an impressive dent in the pile of swords to be forged and realigned. It was well after midnight when she stopped, too exhausted to push herself any further. She extinguished the crackling flames in the forge, a squeal of steam lashing out at her. Finally, she turned, blurry-eyed, to her dog and gave a nod of her head.

"Come on, Dex," she whispered, exhausted.

The dog stretched, yawning lazily and followed behind her. She circled around the back of the blacksmith's and came out onto a tiny side alley that led to the main square and, consequently, the door to the inn. Rhys walked inside and made her way to the bartender who was cleaning glasses and keeping a conservatively watchful eye on the two drunkards left at the bar tables.

"Excuse me," she said. "I'm looking for Rupert."

"You found him," he responded with a quick and easy smile. "What can I do you for?"

"Paul, the blacksmith, told me to come to you. He says that you…" she didn't know how to put it lightly.

Rupert glanced at her, amused. "Owed him a favor? No need to beat around the bush. I don't take offense to words. Of course. I'm guessing he promised you board?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be in town for a week or so."

"Right. Well." He set the spotless mug down and turned to come around from behind the bar. Leading her to the top of the stairs, he pointed to the second story of the building. Handing her a key, he said, "It's on the second, third from the right at the top of the stairs. Hope you find it comfortable."

Rhys took the key. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't mention it. And please… don't call me sir," Rupert responded with another dazzling smile.

Patting her thigh to call Dex, she headed up the stairs. The dog galavanted up in front, excited to be somewhere new. She made her way to the room, unlocking and finding a small room with two dressers to put her things a rug and a bed that looked, at this point of the night, heavenly. Dex bound into the room and began sniffing instantly. Rhys closed the door and bolted it, undressing tiredly. She flopped onto the bed.

It was more heavenly than she could've imagined.

Only faintly aware that Dex was settling down on the broad, plush rug, Rhys drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Liam's parting words rang in Rhys's ears as she quickly bathed herself in the community bath house of the inn. She did feel like hell. It was murder to unglue her eyelids and function normally. But at least she could bathe. The water was hot, but rapidly cooling and she did not want to take an ice cold bath. She wanted to take advantage of the benefit of the hot water, a luxury she was so often deprived of.

She arrived at the blacksmith's just as Paul as coming down the stairs from his flat above the shop. He gave her a smile, chirped a good morning, and asked if she wanted some porridge. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything but that tiny meat pie last night. Paul didn't wait for her to answer, simply pushed her up the stairs, told her to help herself to the pot on the stove, and that there were biscuits in the bread box for Dex.

She ate quickly, handing a couple of biscuits to her faithful dog, and hurried downstairs to post herself at the increasingly familiar forge. She found that yesterday's long, arduous day had helped her pound out a rhythm that increased her speed. The hammer, a heavy burden just the day before, was now an extension of her arm, though still a crude, ruddy one. Today, she worked quicker. It wasn't until after noon, just after she'd bought two more meat pies from the cart vendor, that she saw Liam. He had been dividing his time between the front and the office.

"Sleep well?" he asked, grabbing some rags and cleaner.

"Very well, thank you. And yourself?"

Liam didn't quite respond to her question. Instead, he gave an amused smile and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "You're very formal, aren't you?"

Before she could even think of a response, Liam had vanished through the doorway again. Shaking herself of her stupor, she returned to her work. It seemed like only a minute had passed when, from behind her while she was pulling a red-hot sword from the forge, there came a voice from behind her.

"Working late again?"

Rhys jerk slightly, surprised, and wheeled around. Liam was standing before her, hands in pockets and dark, twinkling eyes amused. She hadn't even heard him come in, he had just simply appeared. Breathing deeply to steady her pounding heart, still heavy with shock, she began hammering the sword between them.

"I already ate my lunch, I'm fine, thank you," she responded somewhat stiffly after a minute or two.

Liam reached out, took the handle of the now perfectly straight sword from her, and tossed into the vat of cold water. Steam rose up between them as they stared at each other for a moment.

"Good to know," he responded. "But lunch was about eight hours ago."

Rhys broke her gaze from him and looked around, realizing that it was dark. When had this happened?

"I suppose you have another meat pie for dinner?" Liam's voice stirred her from her thoughts and she looked back at him. Gathering her bearings, she gave a nod and retrieved the pie from her pocket once more to show him. "Right," he said, grabbing the pie, unfolding the wax liner and tossing it to Dex. Rhys stared, confused and at a loss for words. "You need real food and some ale. You've been here two whole days and no one can survive more than two or three of Saul's meat pies. Especially in a row. Come on. Come and eat with me."

Rhys hesitated, still looking from the meat pie that was being devoured by her dog to the blazing forge. As if in response to a protest she had yet to make, Liam doused the fire in the forge.

"Wait!" she said, trying to dispel the vapor rising from the forge with her voice. "I… I need to-"

"Please," he said, but it didn't sound like he was really asking. "Look, I'll help you tomorrow morning if you like, to make up for whatever deficit occurs tonight."

"You don't understand. I need this job," Rhys said, her eyes still on the cloud of white rising in front of her. "I need the gold."

"Believe me, the gold is going no where and Paul would be out of his mind to turn you out. I've never seen anyone take to aligning a sword so quickly. But you can't work if you're dead and you can't be alive if you don't eat. Actual food. So, come on. Follow me."

He turned and head out the back of the smithy. Dex, still licking his lips of the meat pie, stood, shook his fur, and followed. At the entrance to the alley leading up to the town square, both paused and glanced back at her.

"Well?"

It was Liam who said it, but Dex might as well have said it too. It was so clearly written on his features.

Rhys sighed, the white cloud of steam still trickling out of the forge, and grabbed her coat before following after the two boys.