The next day dawned clear again, windless. She hadn't slept very well, and the imminent heat and non-existent river-crossing made her irritable. She got up before the sun rose, took her fishing staff from the pack and headed down to the river. She unwound the line and cast it out into the pockets of still water under the rock shelves, as her father had once shown her, but nothing was biting except mosquitoes.

She walked back up to camp, dispirited and hungry. The one lump of bread they had left was too hard to bite into. Jaime got up, his eye looking noticeably purple, and they sat by the dead fire, drinking tea and chewing mint. The girl took off her jacket and tied it around her waist, but even with only a loose shirt on she felt lethargic. Even worse, despite the glow of sunburn on his face and his stitches crusting over, Jaime seemed more determined than ever to aggravate her. As they walked along the winding track, he talked almost constantly.

'Are you sure this is the right direction?'

'See this river? There's only one direction.'

'We don't seem to be getting anywhere.'

'We are. It's just taking a little longer than I planned.'

'I think I'm delirious from hunger.' He grinned. 'Or sexual frustration. Both, probably.'

'Seven fucking hells. Have you never heard the saying 'Silence is a virtue?''

'Hmm, that does sound familiar. Although like most virtues, it's overvalued. Funny thing is, lately I seem to be surrounded by strong silent types.'

'Maybe the gods are trying to tell you something,' the girl muttered.

'I'd listen to the gods more if their guidance were actually useful. Like, where do we cross this river? Send an enquiry, could you.'

'Look, I'm fairly sure we missed the river crossing when we took off last night. You want to turn around, go back? Run into the poacher and his band of rogues again? Because we can do that, if you want. I'll even cut your tongue out so they don't get suspicious.' She smiled with malice. 'Trust me, I'll enjoy doing it.'

'You were much better company yesterday,' Jaime remarked.

'Shhh.' The girl swung about and put a hand up to stop him. 'I mean, actually shhh.' She listened. Treading lightly, she padded down to the edge of the river and peered in. The plop and splash she'd heard was what she'd hoped. Turning around without moving her feet, she mouthed 'Fish' at Jaime, then held her hands apart to indicate a good size. He gave her an encouraging thumbs up.

The girl lowered herself onto her stomach and slid forward, until her arms were free of the overhang and could move above the water. Just below her, drifting back and forth in the eddying currents, a large fish rested. Its scales were silver and pink, and its mouth opened and closed, releasing small bubbles that floated to the surface and hung there like fat beads.

The girl let the weight of her left arm slide off the bank and down towards the water. The fish turned its eye back to her, but didn't react. Smoothly, slowly, the girl's hand dipped into the water. Curled under the fish's belly. Time froze and she centred herself; her eyes and mind and body were one. The only things that existed were her hand, the water, and a silvery fish. The fish flipped its tail. The girl's arm straightened in a flash and she caught the fish, tossing it up into the air. With her right hand she batted it onto the bank where it landed with a wet splat and flapped in the dirt. Jaime grabbed a stick and stabbed it behind the gills, skewering it into the ground.

'Well done,' he said.

'It's easy. We grew up on this river, as kids. We used to tickle trout all the time. My brother was better at it than I was.' She beamed. Jaime's approval pleased her. Why does he have that effect on me? 'Let's keep going a while longer, we'll cook it for lunch.' She carried the stick with fish attached up to Sooty, opened her pack and using the edge of the pot, slid the still twitching fish off the stick and in. She replaced the lid.

'You've got decent reflexes, girl. You should carry the bow with you,' Jaime suggested, 'I saw a rabbit before. We could have a feast.'

She decided to take his advice and removed the bow from where it hung on the side of Sooty's saddle, along with three arrows. As she slid the arrows into her belt, she became aware that the entire front of her top was soaked from lying on the muddy bank, making the material cling revealing to her chest. She looked up and saw by Jaime's expression that she wasn't the only one aware of it.

She held his gaze, daring him to say something. There was a long pause, then he let out an exaggerated puff of air.

'Damn, but it's hot today.'

'I've cooled off,' she replied, smiling. She pulled the clinging top away from her skin, shook it a little in a futile effort to dry it out. The wet mud and Jaime's attention had given her goosebumps all over. Jaime was actually quiet for a while, and she found herself missing his talking. I have no idea what I want, she thought. Help.

They walked for a while longer, staying as much as possible under the shade of the trees. They didn't see anything rabbit-like, or anything else living at all, except the insects that buzzed incessantly over their heads. The bush wilted in the heat. Finally around a bend a bridge came into sight, and they stopped. The narrow track they were on crossed over the wider bridge-road, the packed gravel surface worn smooth by the wheels of passing wagons.

'I thought we'd agreed, no bridges.' Jaime objected. As she knew he would.

'It's this, or swimming. And before you answer that, I know at least five people who have drowned in this channel in the last few months.'

'I don't have a great recent history with bridges.'

'This one is not that frequented. At night, virtually deserted. We'll have to wait around for the rest of the day to be really safe, but once it gets dark hardly anyone comes past here. I mean, a few brigands and outlaws but... nothing too hazardous.' The girl started leading Sooty to a thicket of bushes some distance from the road, onto higher ground. From there they could see the flat ribbon of roadway curving away beneath them, straightening over the river, and then continuing on downstream. No-one else was around. Jaime looked unconvinced.

'The last time I made the decision to cross a bridge my companion was captured at sword-point. I dove into the water and barely escaped with my life.'

The girl frowned. 'Was your companion a fugitive also?'

'I thought we agreed, no personal questions.'

'Hey, your story,' she pointed out.

'I was merely explaining my luck with bridges. Do you know how hard it is to swim in handcuffs?'

'Let me guess. Not as easy as it sounds?'

'We should reconsider this idea,' he frowned. 'Ride back the way we've come, find that place you know where we can wade across.'

'Like fuck we will. That's hours back. Forget that. RedHollow too, we've gone too far past now.'

'Then how are we to get these off?' Jaime shoved his shackles toward her, a rare flash of raw emotion on his face. 'Wasn't that the whole point of crossing the damned river?'

She stepped away, annoyed. 'Calm yourself. Yes, ideally, we would have gone into the Hollow. That was the plan. But things don't always work out how you planned them, do they? We have to cross the river anyway, to get to KingsLanding. Might as well cross here as anywhere. We're not far from the King's Road, I can get some steel for your cuffs at... at the Inn there. If I have to.'

Jaime slumped down on the ground. It was cooler in the leafy bush than on the river bank. Dappled shade patterned their skin. He sighed. 'Can we at least light a fire, cook that fish?'

'Alright. We'll keep an eye out for travellers.'

Across the dark water, tiny figures could be seen making their way along the road, in the direction of the main thoroughfare to the Capital. They streamed in from the adjoining lanes and arteries that led off its length. The girl considered uneasily how much harder it was going to be keeping inconspicuous from here on. The countryside was getting too populated.

Together, her and Jaime gathered a small stack of twigs, lit them, just enough to burn the trout's skin black. Then they put out the fire and ate the flaky pale flesh with their fingers. The day continued to warm up, and they sat on the hill in the cover of trees and watched the far traffic. She kept her bow slung on her shoulder. No rabbits came by. No-one used the bridge. A distant horse and cart trudged up a laneway on the other bank, shimmering in the heat, and a short time later four soldiers strode along the same lane, turning towards the King's Road and not in the direction of the bridge. The girl and Jaime sat side by side, watching the men's tiny forms marching like grey and blue ants until they were out of sight.

'North soldiers.' Jaime said.

'The Young Wolf,' she mused. 'King in The North.'

'The all-conquering Robb Stark.'

'Is that his name? Robb. Huh.'

Jaime turned to stare at her. 'Do you really not know his name?'

'I know his name,' the girl said, defensive. 'The Young Wolf. Like I said.'

'But his name. Robb Stark.'

'I know his name is Stark, fool. I may not spend as much time as you hanging around Lords,' she snipped, 'but I do know the Houses and... such. I don't need to know his name's Robb to know who he is.'

Jaime shook his head. 'Just how ignorant can one be?' he said to himself, the disdain evident.

'Oh spare me,' the girl huffed. 'Just because I'm not obsessed with the finer details of the Nobility.' From Jaime, the criticism stung. She felt judged, provincial. 'I live on the road, alright? With my horse. I do a job, I deliver shit, and the people I deliver to don't give a fuck about what all that lot in their castles are doing. My sister and her kids live in a small cottage in the hills outside Goldgrass. When I'm home, we don't spend much time discussing all the Lord's and Ladies' names.'

'Fine,' Jaime said, holding his hands up in a sorry-I-spoke gesture. But she wasn't finished.

'Do you even know how many Robbs I've met? Robb the tanner, Robb the merchant, Robb the fucking village half-wit. Wasn't the last King named Robb? It's only the most common name in these parts. I don't need to know the Stark boy shares the name Robb, alright? He's the Young Wolf, King in the North, to me.' She listed more examples, tapping her fingers as she counted them off. 'The Boy King, the Queen Regent, The Imp, The Kingslayer... That's what we call them where I come from. We don't need to know anything else.'

Jaime said nothing. The girl waited a while, angry, picking up acorns and tossing them into the shrubbery. The leaves stirred, but there was little breeze and the air felt muggy. When Jaime still didn't talk, she looked over at him, contrite. 'Sorry I... I get a bit touchy. It's the heat. Thank you for telling me. Now I know, his name is Robb.'

Jaime remained quiet. He wasn't even looking at her, he seemed lost in thoughts of somewhere else, someone else. His face was set, the lines around his eyes harsh. Dirt so ingrained it stained his pores. He looked, above all, tired. Tired of her, of his handcuffs, of travelling. Of everything.

'Robb is such a common name,' the girl carried on, regretting her earlier snark. 'Maybe you should have used it as your alias. Instead of Jaime, I mean.'

He did glance at her then, sharply, an unreadable expression on his face.

'Take it as a tip from me, for next time you're on the run.' She smiled, willing him to smile back at her. She didn't like this version of Jaime, distant and unreachable. She wanted the fun one back. After what seemed like a long time, a ghost of a smile appeared. He still looked tired.

Suddenly he stood up, stretching his bound hands above his head, rolling the kinks out of his shoulders. He started walking down towards the river. 'Thanks for the tip,' he said as he left, 'but I kind of think I look like a Jaime.'

The girl skipped to catch up with him, Sooty following behind her. She was startled by a rustling in the bushes, and she slid the bow down off her shoulder. A shape moved in the periphery of her vision, but when she turned her head she saw nothing.

'Something's there,' Jaime said.

'Yeah, but it's gone now.' She shrugged the bow back up her arm. 'It's too hot, let's get a drink.'

They went down the bank to re-fill the water flask, and took turns drinking from it. Sooty balanced with her front hooves in the mud, back hooves on the bank, her muzzle submerged in the water up to her nostrils. With each swallow, her ears twitched. A cloud of tiny insects swarmed around their heads. The girl's eyes itched and behind them a dull but persistent pain throbbed in her skull. After a minute's hesitation - fuck it - she untied her jacket from around her waist, dunked it in the river and lifted it high over her head. Cold water streamed onto her hot skin. She re-soaked it, tossed it to Jaime and he wiped his face and neck with it. His eyes took in the lines of water running down her neck into her thin top, droplets trickling around the contours of her breasts.

'You should take that top off,' he said, the old teasing back in his voice.

'Is that what you think.'

'It is a long time until night,' he said, a glint in his eye. 'We could get very bored.'

A scuffling sound again caught their attention. The girl's eyes scanned the trees and bushes along the bank.

'Down river,' Jaime whispered, and she turned and looked where he was indicating. A black goat with a white belly was standing on a pebbly verge, drinking. It had short sharp horns and a white stripe along its jaw. Behind it, a smaller goat stood in the trees, its tail flicking.

The girl brought the bow to her side and eased an arrow out of her belt. She notched it in the string without looking down, her eyes glued to the goats. Then she raised the bow up and took aim.

As if sensing their impending death, both goats spun and darted off into the trees, their pointy hooves kicking up a spray of wet pebbles. One of them stumbled before leaping away; the girl's arrow lodged quivering in its shoulder.

She ran along the bank, jumping from rocks and down into the shallows, but when she reached the spot where the goat had been drinking there was only a couple of drops of blood shining on the grey stones. Damn. She looked up the path they'd taken as they fled, then ran back to where Sooty and Jaime waited.

'Missed it,' Jamie stated the obvious.

'No,' she said, 'I got it. The big one. It just.. didn't die.'

'It didn't die, because you didn't hit it anywhere that actually counts. That's called a miss.' Jaime said. 'C'mon, let's go back up before someone comes along and sees us.' They trooped back up the hill, their clothes drying as they went. 'We should ride after it,' the girl said half-heartedly, frustrated at her off shot.

'What would be the point, it's long gone now,' Jaime said.

They sat back down on the ridge, stared out onto the road. After a few minutes, they heard the sound of hooves and watched as a coach slowly rumbled past beneath them and made its way across the bridge. For the next few hours, a steady trickle of wayfarers passed by. A couple of children, aged around seven or eight, ran along the far bank of the river, occasionally throwing things into the water. The soft sound of their chatter and squeals drifted over on the breeze.

'They remind me of my sister's kids,' the girl said, watching them. She was lying on her stomach on the soft leaves and mulch, resting her chin in her hands. 'Two girls, that's what she has.' She turned to Jaime, who was stretched out on his back nearby, his head propped on one of their packs, elbow bent over his face to block the sun. 'Got any kids?' she asked.

Jaime's voice was muffled beneath his arm. 'I think that counts as a personal question.'

'Oh, get over your issues.'

'I do have kids, actually,' he said, yawning. 'Three.'

'Do you miss them?'

'I never had much to do with them. I was away a lot, when they were growing up.'

'I know, I feel like that with my nieces. That I'm missing them growing up, y'know?' The girl watched the two distant children vanish on up the road. 'Every time I go back they've gotten so big. They're wonderful, though. When they're not your own, they're even better.' She turned on her side towards Jaime. 'Have you got nieces or nephews?'

He hesitated. 'What?' he said, rubbing his eyes.

'Nieces. Nephews. Those things your brother or sister has running around.' She stared at him and he stared blankly back, as if she had started speaking a foreign language. She clicked her fingers in front of his eyes. 'Hello? Anyone home?'

'My sister has them, yes,' he said, slowly. She wondered if he had heat-stroke.

'Oh. Do you see them, much?'

'No.' He sat up, yawned again. 'I'm not much of a kid person.'

'You seem like you would be.'

'Appearances can be deceptive,' he grinned, suddenly playful again. His mercurial moods were giving her vertigo. 'You, for instance. Sitting there with your fair hair and your big eyes, like an innocent maiden.' She was startled, and he reached over his cuffed hands and pinched a lock of her hair between his fingers. 'Strawberry blonde. I was always a fool for blondes,' he continued in a low voice, running the smooth strand through his palm.

'I... uh. I always think it's more, uh... red,' she stuttered. The look on his face was so dreamy he almost looked to be in a trance.

'Red-tinged, perhaps. Red hair must be in your family somewhere. But you my dear girl, are most definitely blonde.'

The girl swallowed. In the far recesses of her mind, a warning sounded; the way he had switched from one mood to another with no apparent reason, his weirdness around some subjects. He didn't want her to pry into his background and that was fine, everyone was a liar. Even so, something else wasn't quite right. But as he leaned in to kiss her, the warning grew so faint she couldn't even hear it any more. Well, she could. But, fuck warnings.