He woke in a strange room and he was momentarily terrified. Strange rooms meant change. Change usually meant capture. But no one was kicking him, and the sheets on his naked body were smooth and expensive.
And there was another naked body, pressed to his. That was nice. That was something he hadn't had the pleasure of feeling for a very, very long time.
Her red hair was mussed over her face, strands falling over her lips which were parted. The gentle whuff of her breath made him smile - she was not an elegant sleeper, but she was gloriously careless, nothing like she had been in the deep roads, wrapped in her bedroll, tense and cold and hurt.
He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to relive things he couldn't change. Images from the night before took the place of unpleasant memories and his breath quickened as he contemplated waking her, but they had not slept much truly, and she probably needed her rest.
He felt more refreshed than he had in years. He could