The warm light of the fire flickered over Jaime and the girl as they rested in that peaceful state of sleepy wakefulness, where bodies are spent but minds still wander. Gusts of wind shook the shelter, the rain hummed, and drops ran along the overhang of rock and plopped from the corner to the ground in little splashes.

The girl's head was on Jaime's chest, and the sound of his slowing heartbeat was comforting and strangely familiar. At one time, she thought, before conscious memory, she must have been an infant held close and carried in her mother's arms, and known that everything was as it should be in the world. It must have felt exactly like this, because the girl recognised it as if from a long ago dream; a dream she'd forgotten but had somehow spent her whole waking life searching for since.

Jaime laid his arm across hers, rubbed his thumb along her wrist. He twined his fingers with her fingers. The girl liked the feel of his calloused palm and the way their hands looked linked together; hers small and brown, his paler and broad, the knuckles scabbed and veins running blue under the skin. She thought that if they stayed this way forever she wouldn't mind.

She'd been solitary for such a long time, most of her life, with only fleeting acquaintances and Sooty for company. Having another person's arms around her at night was so different and yet, perfect. She wondered how she'd lived without it until now and not known it was missing. She realised she had been content with her life in the same way that someone who'd lived only in a dark room is content; until the day a door they didn't even know existed opened. Even if it opened just to give them a brief glimpse outside before slamming shut forever, they could never go back to being content in the room.

'Your skin is so soft,' Jaime said, 'and very tanned.' He stretched his forearm alongside hers to emphasise the contrast in their colouring.

'I'm in the sun a lot,' she said.

'Mmm.' Jaime drew circles on her skin with his fingers. 'And your hair is fair. It's uncommon.'

'Uncommon how?'

'Just an unusual combination,' he observed.

The fire crackled and the trees out in the night shook and sighed. The girl could hear the breathing of the horses nearby, and the scrape of their hooves on the rock.

'My mother was dark and my father was fair. I guess that's why,' she said. It was not something she'd ever thought about. Her skin and its qualities had not been of enough interest to anyone before to comment on. 'My sister and brother were both fair.'

'And did they also inherit your horse skills?' Jaime asked.

'That's from my mother. My father wasn't interested in horses. Beyond making sausages out of the broken down ones.'

'Most village horses are not worth much more than sausage-meat.'

'Hey,' she protested with a grin. 'Sooty is a village horse.'

'Present company excepted, of course.'

'Village horses can be as good as any horse. You just have to train them right.'

'Is that so?' Jaime mocked her, but kindly. 'And how many war-horses, purpose bred for battle, have you ridden, girl?'

'Not as many as you, it seems. And your point is?'

'My point is that training can only do so much. You can't compare a war-horse, the superior conformation and proven bloodlines with a... a village nag. No matter what training you give it, it will never match up. Apologies to our mutual friend over there, but that's the truth.'

'Horses are horses,' the girl insisted. 'They don't know their pedigrees.'

'Well, we shall have to agree to disagree.'

'My mother said that a good horse was one you could rely on in a tight spot, who would run towards a fight and not away from one. She said looks don't matter, in a fight.'

'Did your mother know a lot about fighting on horseback, then? Growing up in a village and married to the local butcher?' Jaime teased. 'I can only begin to imagine her wealth of horse and battle-related knowledge.'

'Actually,' the girl jabbed him in the ribs in rebuke, 'my mother didn't stay long in the village. She didn't... it didn't suit her. She left when I was young and we lived with the HillTribes up until when she died. And before the village, she came from somewhere far away, on a ship, when she was less an age than I am now. Where she came from, her people knew more about horses than any pampered, privileged Knight or Nobleman in Westeros.'

'Your family history just gets more and more intriguing,' Jaime's arm curled around her waist. 'So, let me get this right. Your father was the village butcher and your mother was a foreigner from across the sea, who left the boring village life after you were born to live wild among the HillTribes? Your early influences must have been... varied.'

'You say 'varied' like it's akin to being raised by wolves. My background may not be what you consider ideal, but to me it was normal.'

'I guess I'm surprised,' Jaime admitted. 'Surprised at myself, mainly. I wouldn't have thought it was possible for me to feel a... a connection, to you at all. Given our widely differing backgrounds.'

'I don't know your background so I'll have to take your word for it that they are 'widely differing.''

'Let's just say, the HillTribes did not feature prominently in my upbringing.'

'You really missed out,' she quipped.

'Apparently so,' he agreed dryly. 'I'm sure it would have been excellent though, to learn how to live without soap, table manners or civilisation.'

'Yeah. It's a miracle I even walk upright,' the girl retorted. 'And I'm sure with all your first-hand experience of living with the Tribes you'd know what you're talking about.'

She felt Jaime let out a little puff of air behind her and knew he was smiling. 'I concede my opinions of HillTribes are based on limited first-hand knowledge. Like your, rather scathing, opinions of Knights and Noblemen. Unless you fitted in a few years in a castle between everything else?'

The girl snorted. 'I don't need first-hand knowledge to know what it would be like to grow up in a castle, do I? Having servants to wipe my arse, and cutting off people's heads if they looked at me funny. Having a fucking army to boss around. How hard could it be? Piece of piss.'

There was a short silence.

'Maybe,' Jaime said. 'I wouldn't know.'

'Anyway. Why are you interested in my background all of a sudden? Are we getting married?'

They both laughed.

'Well, you know, it would be useful to know how many goats your Chief requires for the wedding,' Jaime said. 'No, girl. I'm just... curious about you.'

'Let's talk about your background,' she suggested, with a mischievous smile.

Jaime buried his face in her neck. 'Let's... not.'

'I'll make it simple for you. You can just answer yes or no. Did you grow up in a castle?'

Jaime groaned. 'I'm not playing this game.'

'Were you the ward, or bastard son, of some Nobleman?'

'No.'

'See, it's easy! You can do it. Are you really, really, staggeringly rich?'

Jaime sighed. 'This wasn't part of our original deal.'

'When I agreed to the original deal, I wasn't aware it was going to be so complicated. Or, life-threatening.'

Jaime propped himself up on one arm and adjusted the blanket over them where it had slipped down. 'Did you think the 500 gold coins were just to put up with my jokes?'

'I think I deserve more of an explanation,' the girl said, serious now. She forced her thoughts back to the villagers, drenched in blood. How easy it is to be distracted from uncomfortable thoughts when Jaime is beside me. 'I wish I'd known from the start what this would involve.'

'Why?' Jaime shifted one leg across hers and leant over her, keeping his weight on his elbows. 'Would you have said no?'

'If I'd known everything that would happen? I... I think I might have...' It was disconcerting having Jaime on top of her. His eyes reflected the fire.

'Might have... what? Said no to everything that has happened?' Jaime asked, in a husky voice. He planted a kiss on her collarbone, one on the top of each of her breasts. His fingers smoothed strands of hair back from her face and sank into the back of her head, digging in gently. 'Said no to all the... experiences we've had?' He kissed the side of her mouth, lightly, his lips barely grazing her skin. Nuzzled at her neck.

'Your experiences are not that... ahh... irresistible,' the girl gasped, trying to remain indifferent, but failing utterly.

Jaime smiled. His knee moved between her legs, nudged them apart. Both hands cupped the back of her head and his thumbs held her jaw so she couldn't turn her head away. 'Interesting,' he said. 'Because you've been so very resisting. Of such... experiences.' He moved his body so that he was now positioned fully between her legs. His tongue licked along the contours of her mouth, then his lips pressed firmly against hers and demanded entry as his body did the same.

The girl arched her back, reflexively. She knew soon he was going to be inside of her again, and she was going to moan, and shudder, and lose herself completely to him. She was going to shatter into thousands of pieces of herself and come together in a new way, wholly aware of what had been missing in her life before she met him. And Jaime would have proven his point. She wouldn't say no to him, about anything. Even if it meant risking her life. Even if what she had with him was just a brief glimpse through a door that was already closing.