She woke up. Felt warm and peaceful and more relaxed than she'd been in a long time. She lay still, savouring the rare feeling of contentment. Then, she remembered. The images that sprang into her consciousness in all their raw and vivid detail made her inhale sharply and her face get hot. Oh. Fuck. But this was going to be an awkward morning.

She flipped back the blankets and got to her feet. Upright, her head spun. Her mouth felt twice its normal size. It was before-dawn cold and she quickly pulled on her jacket, shook the sand out of her discarded pants and shuffled into her boots. A surreptitious glance behind her at Jamie's blanket-covered form confirmed that he was still asleep. Or at least pretending to be. Either way, she didn't have to deal with him right now. Which meant she had some time to process her thoughts. Oh but... those thoughts. Dear gods. Where to start? She could hardly keep from burying her face in her hands at the memory. Did a warg infiltrate my body last night? Because that was not my normal manner of behaving.

She decided distraction was the best remedy. The fire looked cold and dead, of course she hadn't banked it before falling asleep. Or, passing out. Whichever had happened. Their food supply was pretty low, there was another thing to preoccupy herself with. Good.

She grabbed her holster where it lay on the ground, checked the knife, pouch and keys were all still attached. I may be the stupidest delivery person ever, but today luck is with me she thought, gratefully. She set to work gathering up the smaller branches around the clearing, using the sturdiest one to stir up the ashes and uncover a still-glowing log. Air fanned a tiny wisp of blue and orange flame out of its centre, and as it licked along the length of black wood she fed it twigs and watched it grow. Satisfied, she grabbed the pot and walked over to the river.

A movement downstream caught her attention, and she stopped. A man in familiar Tribesmen garb was casting his net out into the current. He saw her and after a moment, raised his hand in greeting. She waved back. He tied his net off to the trunk of a tree and started making his way towards her. She glanced back up behind herself. The undergrowth was thick by the river bank, and from where she stood, the camp they'd made last night couldn't be seen.

'What are you doing in these parts?' the man called out as he approached, keeping his eyes on the rocky river bank so as not to slip.

'The usual. Deliveries,' she replied. 'How are the fish today? Are you pulling in any of those big trout I've seen being sold down at the Corner?'

He didn't take her lead and talk about his catch. He walked up to her slowly, a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes. 'Deliveries, eh? Well. Thought you worked the King's Road and down into the villages. Who's up here in need of your services?' His tone was friendly but the girl felt uneasy. She recognised him from the markets they both frequented. He was always trying to scam someone, a natural-born salesman. Those who bought from him didn't find out until they got home that their purchases were invariably a few short, often not even the actual items he spruiked them as. The girl knew; in the past she'd picked up wares for a pittance and delivered them to him, so he could sell them on for five times as much. She had to admire those qualities in a person.

This morning though, she didn't want him around. Her head throbbed badly, the sun was too bright, and even normal conversation seemed an ordeal. Let alone the necessary lies she'd have to spin to send him on his way.

'The Dryfields down in the valley needed some wine urgently, an unexpected arrival,' she told him. 'Some long-thought-dead family member turning up, with most of his limbs still attached. I happened to be passing through the junction just after the happy reunion. A profitable detour for me.' The girl tried to keep her voice steady, casual. She could smell the fish on the man's hands, and it made her stomach roil.

'Dryfields, now there's a name you don't hear often,' he said. 'Is old man Dryfield still a recluse down there? Still making his little pots of secret spices?'

'I wouldn't think so. He's been dead nearly a year.' The girl knew the man knew this too, but it was all part of the game. She just didn't feel like playing today. She felt like vomiting.

The man sniffed the air, looked up the way she'd come. 'You got a fire going up there?'

'Yeah. Stopped for a cup of tea.' The girl held up her pot. She was trying to breathe through her mouth, the stench of old fish infused in his clothes and skin was overpowering.

'Ah, nothing better on a cold morning. You got a spare cup?' The man smiled pleasantly.

'I'm travelling light,' she said. 'The trip was short notice, I didn't even pack a change of clothes.'

'Maybe I could share your cup,' the man said, stepping in close. The girl forced herself to control her instinct to step back. His over-familiar tone and invasion of her personal space was nothing she hadn't dealt with before. If only she didn't feel so nauseous, and her brain would stop thudding against her skull.

'I have a weird fever,' she said. 'I probably wouldn't.' Under her shirt, her fingers brushed on the bulge of her knife by her hip.

'Really? A fever.'

'Yeah. Dizzy spells. I couldn't even ride my horse the last few miles, I thought I was going to fall off.'

At the mention of her horse, the man stepped quickly away from her and looked around. 'Your horse, I remember that beast. Is it... nearby?'

'I could whistle her up for you.'

'That's alright, no need.' The man backed away, turning in the direction of his fishing spot further down the river. 'Safe travels. I'll see you around the usual.' He hurried over the rocks, occasionally glancing up into the trees as if checking for horse-shaped figures charging at him. The girl smiled to herself. Sooty's reputation had taken many years to develop, but now she was a local legend.

Once the man had gone, the girl walked down the bank and, using some fallen branches as footholds, leaned over and dipped the pot into the current. The fast-moving water was cold as liquid ice. She brought up her wet hand and wiped it over her face; the wind stung her wet skin but it had the desired effect of clearing her head and settling her belly. She gulped down some water from the pot, re-filled it, and headed back to the camp, feeling slightly more awake.

Jaime was also awake. He was lying on his side looking in her direction as she came through the trees, propped on one elbow with his cuffed hands out of the blanket. His left eyebrow was smudged black with bruising that nearly closed his eye, but he still looked pleased with himself. 'Hey,' he said.

'Hey,' she replied. There was a long silence.

Self-conscious, she went to the fire to hang the pot over it, but fumbled and slopped water over the side. A cloud of steam hissed up at her. Flustered, she began poking at the coals with a stick, aimlessly, but she was so aware of Jaime's presence that she couldn't concentrate on anything else. Nor could she think of a single thing to say to him.

'How are you feeling this morning?' His voice, slightly gravelly from sleep, sent little shudders through her body. Ugh. Pull yourself together, she chided herself. You're stronger than this, you can cope with a... temporary loss of control... without losing your shit like a 12 year old after her first kiss

'Fine'. She didn't look up. 'You?'

'I'm feeling much improved,' he said. 'I had this amazing dream.'

'Do tell.' She looked over at him with what she hoped was wordly nonchalance, but her mouth twitched. Despite her jittery nerves and the disorienting sense of everything she knew from yesterday being unfamiliar today, she found that what she wanted, more than anything, was to keep looking into Jaime's eyes. It was difficult to tear herself away.

'I forget.' He yawned, showing his straight white teeth. 'Soooo...' he feigned a brief interest in his surroundings before his gaze returned and captured hers again. 'That wine was something else, huh? I can't remember a thing about last night.'

She raised her hand to her mouth to hide her smile.

'It was an unmemorable evening,' she said, airily. 'I seem to recall we played cards at one point.'

'That's right,' he snapped his fingers. 'I think I lost my shirt to you. You should've warned me you were such a shark.'

'Where's the fun in knowing everything about someone?'

'Where indeed,' he agreed.

She looked into his green eyes and got the distinct feeling that things were slipping slowly out of her control. It was hard to pull back, hard to focus on what needed to be done today, when all she could think of was yesterday. She forced the disquieting images out of her head. 'I had a visitor down by the river,' she said, abruptly. 'Let's get out of here.'

By the time they'd packed up, the sun had lightened the sky to pale grey and it was almost warm. They headed upstream along the river, doubled on Sooty's broad back. They needed to make up time. Although they kept to the cover of the trees, she checked every so often for a narrowing of the river banks, a place they could swim across. Bridges, according to her people-shy companion, were with towns and main roads on the Things To Avoid list. Despite the delays, she figured they were less than a day's ride from RedHollow, a small village she knew well. She could leave Jaime in hiding somewhere and go buy, borrow or steal something with a big enough blade to smash his cuffs off. That should make him happy. Why his happiness was suddenly important to her was something she decided to examine another day. For now, she simply accepted that it was.

We're going to have to get across this river, but it's nice weather, she mused. I'm a good swimmer, so's Sooty. Can Jaime swim? Well, Sooty can drag him along. Drying our clothes will be the problem. Probably everything in the packs is going to get wet, I'll have to keep the lighter and tinder dry somehow. Will our clothes dry over a fire, overnight? She supposed she could cuddle up to Sooty to keep warm, but what about Jaime? Using Jaime to keep warm was a thought she also pushed aside for the time being.

Jaime was quiet, for once. She noticed that he was looking around at their surroundings more, and wondered if he was familiar with this area.

'Let's stop and eat', she decided, when the sun was at its high point above them.

She reined in Sooty, and jumped off. Jaime watched as she pulled the food bag open and got out the only food they had left; bread. He looked like he wanted to comment on the meal options again, but restrained himself.

'Are we close to where we're meant to cross? Near that village you told me about?' he asked instead.

'Why? Keen on getting them off?' She nodded at his wrists.

'It's been a long time,' he said. 'I'll have to learn to do everything all over again, with hands.'

'Well, be thankful you have hands. There are people around here who love to chop hands off,' she cautioned.

Jaime grinned. 'I'm pretty quick with my hands, when they're not chained together. I doubt anyone could hold one down long enough.'

'You'd be surprised how many single-handed folks around here once had that same belief,' the girl said.

Jaime tossed his crust of bread into the bushes. 'Gods, could we get some decent food at this village of yours, too? Something that was once running around on four legs would be good.'

They rested a while, her on the ground, Jaime leaning on a large rock. Sooty took the opportunity to graze some tussocks of grass growing in the splotchy sunlight that filtered through the leaves overhead. The girl allowed her thoughts to drift to last night. Jaime. Her. The look in his eyes, his lips. The feel of him inside her.

'You were so chatty yesterday,' Jaime interrupted her daydream. 'Now today you've gone all quiet.'

He took the water off the stone she'd set it down on, unscrewed the cap and sculled the rest of the contents. She glanced over at him while he was drinking. His head tipped back, adam's apple moving up and down; the tendons in the V of his neck standing out. He'd washed his skin clean in the river but his hair was still so dirty it looked black and fell in thick strands down the side of his face. She remembered the dry texture of them as she'd brushed them out of his eyes with the back of her fingers. She didn't realise she was staring until he turned to look at her.

'Um,' she said. She folded the rest of the bread back into the cloth and stowed it into the saddle-pack, turning her back to him and inwardly cursing her lack of composure.

He walked over and stood behind her. She could feel his body warmth on the back of her neck. The chain from his wrists clanked as he held the water bottle out to her over her shoulder.

'About last night -' she turned around. He waited, watching her. She could feel her cheeks heating up. 'I'm sorry if I was... forward.'

'I'm not.'

She sighed. 'Alright, I'm not either, not really. When I woke up today I... I thought I'd made a big mistake.'

'What do you think now?' he asked.

'I don't know. I'm trying not to... think about it too much.'

'Too much? So you are thinking about it.'

'Well. Sometimes.' She laughed a little. 'Got me.'

Jaime leaned back, appraised her seriously. 'Do you trust me?'

'As far as I trust anyone.' No, she thought. 'But I feel safe with you, if that counts for anything.'

'After I get these cuffs off, you may change your mind.'

'Do you trust me?' She turned his question back on him.

'I don't even know your name.'

'No-one uses it much. I'm just the Delivery Girl.'

'Surely your family don't call you 'The Delivery Girl'.'

She looked away over the river. The water shimmered, dark shapes moving under its surface. 'My family are... there's just my sister and me. Her kids. My mother died many years ago, and my father killed himself. He could cope with my mother dying, but not... not everything else.'

'Oh. I'm sorry.' Jaime said, sincerely. 'Losing family is hard.'

'I had a little brother,' she continued, gazing away to the far banks of the river and beyond it, to the grassy hills sprinkled with white flowers, the purple shadows of clouds scudding across them, as if Jaime hadn't spoken. 'We weren't living together. He was only 13. I was already on my own then, delivering. He lived with our father.' Her eyes didn't focus on the view, as pretty as it was. Her eyes looked inside herself and saw someone who was still an essential part of her, even though she had no idea where his blood had soaked into the earth, where his bones lay, or what animals had picked them clean.

'I have a brother too.' Jaime sympathised. 'I'd kill anyone who tried to hurt him. What happened to yours?'

'He was killed,' she said, turning at last her face Jaime. Her voice was cold. 'Murdered.'