'No.' She squatted down next to him, lifted her arm, paused as if she was wondering what to do with it. 'Nor me.' He felt her fingertips on the back of his hand—gentle, cautious. It almost tickled, her touch was so light. Her thumb rubbed at the stump of his middle finger, and he watched her do it, grey shapes moving in the shadows, awkward as a pair who'd never touched another person in their lives. Strange feeling, having a woman so close to him. Brought back all kind of memories.

Logen reached up slowly, feeling like he was about to put his hand in the fire, and touched Ferro's face. It didn't burn. Her skin was smooth and cool, just like anyone's would have been. He pushed his hand into her hair, felt it tickling the webs between his fingers. He found the scar on her forehead with the very tip of his thumb, traced the line of it down her cheek to the corner of her mouth, tugging at her lip, his skin brushing rough against hers.

There was a strange set to her face, he could tell it even in the dark. It was one he wasn't used to seeing on her, but there was no mistaking it. He could feel the muscles tense under her skin, see the moonlight on the cords standing from her scrawny neck. She was scared. She could laugh while she kicked a man in the face, smile at cuts and punches, treat an arrow through her flesh like it was nothing, but it seemed a gentle touch could put the fear in her. Would've seemed pretty strange to Logen, if he hadn't been so damn frightened himself. Frightened and excited all at once.

They started pulling at each other's clothes together, as if someone had given the signal for the charge and they were keen to get it over with. He struggled with the buttons on her shirt in the darkness, hands trembling, chewing at his lip, as clumsy as if he'd had gauntlets on. She had his open before he'd even done one of hers.

'Shit!' he hissed. She slapped his hands away and undid the buttons herself, pulled her shirt off and dropped it beside her. He couldn't see much in the moonlight, only the gleaming of her eyes, the dark outline of her bony shoulders and her bony waist, splashes of faint light between her ribs and the curve underneath one tit, a bit of rough skin round a nipple, maybe.

He felt her pull his belt open, felt her cool fingers sliding into his trousers, felt her—

'Ah! Shit! You don't have to lift me up by it!'

'Alright.'

'Ah.'

'Better?'