Anastasia wondered if she should try and start a conversation about earlier, but she found that the silence was comfortable enough. She'd wait for now, maybe until they got to Ravaryn. He may already know how she felt, but she knew she wasn't likely to get anywhere with him without openly confronting her feelings. She knew a part of her wasn't ready, that she hadn't told Aram the whole truth. It was wrong to keep it from him, but she was terrified of him leaving her when he found out, and she selfishly wanted to continue waiting. It had been a lot for her to process, what she had done, and what she'd been feeling for Aram hadn't made it much easier. He had given her no reason to suspect that he'd judge her, yet still she worried about his opinion because of how much she cared. Ana wasn't sure she could continue holding herself together if she destroyed what their fledgling relationship was.

Anastasia had been quietly watching Aram, intrigued by the process of him skinning and cooking the rabbit. She had thought she might be turned off by the gore-iness of the skinning and such, but she wasn't. When he was done, she took the portion offered with thanks, simply happy to have a warm, fulfilling meal. “That's alright,” she told him, her soft voice cracking quietly from the same cold and disuse, “If you show me what I'm looking for, I'd be happy to help.” She didn't know much about herbs and cooking since there were cooks to keep her out of the kitchen, but like with just about everything she was willing to learn. She wanted to be more than a helpless princess, and if she was ever caught in a state like they were in alone, she wanted to know the things that he could teach her.

She ate quietly, huddling by the small fire. She still wasn't quite so used to the chilly temperatures of the night, but the fire and warm meat helped to warm her up little by little. She could feel Aram look at her from time to time and even caught him once or twice, but only because she was looking at him too. What she had said hadn't been a small thing, and she knew that. She just wished she knew more about how he felt. Though she knew that wasn't how Aram was, she didn't want him to feel as though he needed to cater to her or pity her because she was a woman who knew nothing about the world she was about to live in. She truly felt like he cared in the same way she did, but it seemed just as hard for him to speak on such a thing as it was for her.

Sighing softly to herself, she watched as Aram buried the bones a small ways from the fire. She knew it likely had to do with predators, and just the thought of something dangerous wandering on top of them made her nervous. It would be the first time she ever slept without shelter, and truth be told it made her rather nervous. She stood when Aram came towards her with the blankets, taking them with a small nod of gratitude. She heeded his words, but she noticed how it left him with a single, thin blanket. The temperatures were cold and bound to get colder. That simply wouldn't do, even if he was used to such a thing. She didn't fancy the idea of him catching a cold, and though it was a dry night, it still managed to bother her some as she laid out her own blanket on the ground. She supposed he would be close enough to share in some of her heat, but she knew he'd still be cold.

Anastasia settled down onto the blanket before spreading the other across her body as she laid on her side, facing Aram. She had her arm tucked beneath her head for support, her eyes already a bit heavy. She was exhausted, just as she was sure Aram must have been as well. It was a long day with far too much excitement, and she just found herself hoping that sleep didn't evade her for another night.

The fire still helped to cast light across the shadows, the warmth still flowing gently from the stirred embers. She couldn't help but stare as Aram focused on the sky, her mind stuck between opening up another jar of worms or just sleeping. It was hard to think about much else, yet when he asked if there was anything else she needed, she found herself deciding it still wasn't quite the time. She was chickening out, but that way okay. It wasn't what was important for the time.

“It's going to be rather cold tonight, and I doubt that blanket will be doing you too many favors,” she spoke softly, biting at the inside of her cheek as she debated her offer. “You needn't risk getting sick. You are.. welcome to lay closer and share the top blanket with me,” she told him, her tone certain but not pushy. It wasn't quite appropriate, but there hadn't been much that was appropriate since starting such a trip. It would be fine. She only wished to ensure he was warm and comfortable. Though, that small part of her didn't want to admit that she wanted the comfort of him being right at her side for the night...

Aram’s hand, still idly rotating the remains of the stick he’d been poking into the embers, stilled at her offer. He glanced at her once in a brief, almost guarded manner before looking back at the fire. His mind started its usual fast-but-measured calculation, the kind that didn’t show in his face but churned in the background all the same.

Sharing a blanket. Indecent, in theory. Entirely avoidable, in practice. A half-dozen reasons to decline lined themselves up in neat order. Yet, for every argument against, three answers for crowded in.

He had stitches, and that would slow him down; staying near meant he could wake her quickly if something went wrong.

It would be warmer, and the cold was sharp enough to bite straight through a lone blanket, and she was right -- he could get sick.

If danger came in the night, being close enough to reach her in one breath might make the difference.

He shifted slightly, weighing the thought like a hunter feeling the heft of a knife before deciding if it belonged in his hand. In truth, he was already leaning toward “yes” before he admitted to himself that he was leaning at all. His eyes lingered on the fire, as if the flames themselves might settle the matter.

Finally, with a short, somewhat stiff nod, more awkward than he’d have liked, he gave his answer without words. He pushed himself up, gathered his thin blanket, and moved it so their bedding overlapped at the edges. Then, he lay back down, sliding beneath the heavy top blanket so it draped over them both.

The firelight painted gold across her cheek. He tried not to think about the distance --close, but not touching -- and found that the effort to not think about it made him think about it even more. There was no chance of sleep, he told himself. Not now.

Of course, sleep came anyway.

----

When his eyes opened again, dawn was still only a pale promise at the horizon. The fire had burned down to low, glowing logs, giving off just enough heat to hold the cold at bay. He realized, with faint surprise, that he felt… good. Better than he had in weeks, even. It hadn’t been a full night of rest; his body had woken on its own in little stretches, as it always did. Each time, he’d taken a moment to listen for trouble, let his eyes sweep the darkness, feed another stick to the fire, then settle again. But those breaks hadn’t cut into his rest the way he’d expected.

Quietly, carefully, he eased himself from under the shared blanket, making certain not to disturb her. The frost clung to the grass, crunching faintly underfoot as he moved toward the snares.

The first was empty; the second, several hundred feet away, was too. The line of them sagged slightly with a dusting of frost, as if the night itself had pressed its weight down on the world. Aram grumbled under his breath. There would be no avoiding a trip to town, then, as his original plan had been to hunt a larger animal -- a deer, likely -- and have it last them several more days, but now he could not draw the bow, and he wasn't about to try taking one down with knives. He wasn't a barbarian.

He crouched briefly, studying the frost-stiffened herbs nearby. The ones he’d hoped to gather for seasoning hung limp and colorless, pathetic little things too far gone to bother with. A pity.

The trek back to camp was a slow one, his boots leaving pale tracks in the frozen earth.

She was still sleeping when he returned, or at least still beneath the blanket, the firelight brushing faint warmth across her features. He set to work without a sound, pulling out the dried provisions from his pack and rehydrating them with what water they had. The stew was plain, but it would fill the stomach and ward off the morning chill.

He stirred it slowly, eyes flicking now and again to the blanket where she still rested, and let the thin curl of steam rise into the air. The sun was just beginning to creep higher, frost glittering across the edges of their camp like scattered shards of glass, and the hints of a boyishly stupid grin across his face were beginning to catch the first rays of sun as well. No matter how hard he bit the inside of his cheek or tried to think about the stew and nothing else, his thoughts were quick to return to the fact that he had just spent the night next to a woman! A gorgeous one, at that, and the horrible stray wondering came around, suggestion that he had missed an opportunity to move closer and simply blame it away on the cold.

His stirring stick hit the bottom of the old pot with a solid thunk! as he firmly shooed the offending daydream away. Surely she hadn't meant him to be that close, and... well, but she hadn't kicked him off, either.

(I struggled with this response so much, I'm so sorry it sucks ToT)

Though her concern had been genuine, a part of Anastasia's offer had been selfish. She wanted Aram near for herself, for the selfish benefit of knowing that he'd stay close enough to touch, that he was there and not going anywhere for the time being. The thought of curling even closer, of holding him or being held had crossed her mind, but she knew that was too far and too much to ask, no matter how much she wished for it. So, just having him close would be enough. She could feel his presence and warmth, hear his breathing, and that was enough to grant her a night of easier sleep.

Ana had been so exhausted that she couldn't help but sleep. The nightmares still found her from time to time, rousing her into wakefulness a few times through the night. Each time she'd just scoot a little closer to Aram as he slept, her gaze flicking across his face through the dim fire light as a reminder that she was safer than she'd ever been. She didn't have to worry so much and the person who harmed her so often was no longer able to hurt her. She returned to sleep each time, soothed by the fact that she wasn't alone anymore. It wasn't peaceful, but it was certainly more rest than she had expected to receive with a handsome man at her side.

As the next morning came, Ana remained asleep even as Aram left. She seemed more peaceful then, not moving as often as she did in the night. The day light had rushed away the unsettling dreams as the forest awakened, the morning soothing her. It wasn't until she noticed a lack of warmth that she began to stir again, and upon his return, Aram might have found that Anastasia had moved close to where he once lay in search for him though she still rested. Her body knew what it wanted, even if her mind wouldn't allow such things to be spoken yet. If mentioned, she'd of course just blame her attachment on the cold. After all, that was all it really was, wasn't it? She was cold, definitely not trying to creep closer for an unasked for cuddle... right.

The sound of a thunk pulled Anastasia completely from sleep, her eyes opening to see Aram cooking at the fire. She groaned softly as she pushed herself up onto one elbow, her free hand rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Good morning to you too,” she murmured with a faint smile, though she knew he likely hadn't intended to wake her. She had been teetering on the edge of waking up anyways, with the brisk morning air assaulting her cheeks.

Ana begrudgingly stood from where they'd had made their bed, though she took the thick top blanket with her and wrapped it around her shoulders as she moved to sit by the fire. "Nothing in the other snares, I take it?" She questioned quietly to fill the silence, her hand pushing through her mussed hair. She didn't want to let her mind mull over the fact that she'd spent the night so close to Aram, especially without knowing if she minded his personal space all night. She knew she never woke to him pushing her away, but she did worry about discomforting him. Then again... Had he been uncomfortable with the thought he'd have told her no. If anything, it was a small reminder that he felt what she felt.

Anastasia chuckled softly and shook her head, a smile crossing her lips. “It's quite alright. I was on the brink of waking as it was,” she assured him, knowing it was about time she'd gotten up anyways. She wouldn't mention that her subconscious had began to notice the chill his absence brought. So little time they'd been together, yet still she noticed when he was gone before much time had passed.

Nodding along as he spoke of the empty snares and pitiful herbs, Ana had expected about as much. The animals were likely still in their burrows, staying where it was warm until the morning sun could heat the cold earth. As for the herbs, the weather was too harsh for much to survive. The days would only get colder and eventually the frost kill most of the low lying greenery. “Understandable. I imagine it won't get much better as the season grows colder,” she hummed thoughtfully, recalling what few studies she'd had on wildlife and the worldly seasons. She didn't know much, but she was catching on little by little.

If she planned on surviving, whether it be on her own or not, Anastasia knew she'd have to learn more about the world she lived in. She knew more about politics, history, and wifely or womanly duties than anything else. Nothing that she had been taught actually prepared her for life, and running away had opened her eyes up to that. There was much to learn, much to see and to do, and Anastasia knew she wanted to discover every ounce of it that she could. All she had was time, a future worth actually living.

Taking her share of breakfast, Anastasia thanked him, pleased with how the plate warmed her chilled finger tips. She began to eat, idly watching as the fire cast a golden glow over Aram's face. The warmth brought such life to his features, drawing her gaze in to linger just a little too long as gaze returned to hers. She listened to him speak as she chewed, her belly warming with each bite. It was simple, but she savored each one. She was pleased to hear that this one trip to town would be all that they needed. She was fine with staying behind, but the idea of being alone for terribly long did make her nervous. She couldn't guarantee her own safety nor the safety of their belongings while she was alone, but with any luck the trip wouldn't take long and no one would stumble upon Anastasia. They were so close to being where they needed to be. Surely nothing would go wrong?

Considering her options, Ana already knew which one she'd choose. She kept her silence, quietly debating and weighing the risks of each one. There was an obvious answer that he should go before a fire needed to be made. There'd be no light, no smoke for her to be seen. As long as she kept quiet and remained at their camp, there'd be no problem. She was almost certain of it. “Alright.. I think I know which I would prefer,” she hummed, giving it a little more thought so that she wouldn't second guess herself later.

She scooped the last of her meal into her spoon, eating and chewing quietly as her gaze turned to the awakening forest as birds chirped and squirrels began to chitter and squeal. The earth was slowly but surely warming up, and before very much longer Anastasia set aside her plate and shrugged off the blanket she wore around her shoulders. Folding the blanket, she set it on her lap before leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees as her golden gaze returned to Aram. A small smile lingered on her lips, a reassurance she was still unbothered about being woken. Her hands wrung together for a moment as she thought about a multitude of things, her mind drifting elsewhere until he spoke again.

“Something is better than nothing, and for something I am grateful,” she murmured in that same, "to herself" cadence. They could have gone without a fulfilling breakfast and supper, but even as little and bland as it was, she had cherished it nonetheless. Just as she cherished the way that he gave her such assurance when he didn't have to. Letting the silence fall for a while longer after his words, she had offered him a kind expression, warm and inviting to whatever he could need. Then, once she was certain again, she spoke.

“Going into town early would be wisest. You'll not have to worry so much about someone finding out where our camp is, nor will I be cold. I'll just need to lay low and wait. So going early is my choice. I'm sure of it,” she told him, confidence seeping into her tone. It was the safest option for both of them she was sure. She just hadn't anticipated the risk that there'd be posters with her face upon it, claiming her crimes upon its delicate print. She wouldn't have thought she'd end up needing to explain herself to Aram so soon. After all, she had been certain that her father would be thoroughly exploring the south, leaving the north for her to hide in. Or, perhaps, the old man still had a few tricks up his sleeve and was smarter than she thought he was. Nonetheless, their journey was far from over, and they'd need to be on their toes every step of the way.

Aram nodded once, silently agreeing with her choice. It was the wisest course of action, though he had already suspected she would lean that way. Without another word, he gathered the pot and bowls he had used for their breakfast stew, carrying them down to the edge of the river where he crouched to scrub away what little remained. The sound of running water mingled with the rasp of sand and stone against the pot’s metal surface, the morning sun glinting faintly on its rim, bringing an odd -- but welcome -- sense of peace.

When the dishes were clean, he dried them with a cloth tucked at his belt and packed them away. Then he rose to his full height, stretching his shoulders briefly before moving toward the horses. Marruk flicked his ears forward at his approach, while the gelding lifted its head lazily from grazing. Aram set about readying the tack, his hands working over the buckles and straps.

“I think we will want to eat while walking today,” he said over his shoulder as he tightened a girth strap. “We’ll save ourselves the time of stopping for lunch that way. The sooner we reach town, the better.”

He leaned to check Marruk’s side, fingers brushing carefully along the horse’s flank where the injury lay. The stallion twitched beneath his touch but did not shy away. Aram hummed under his breath, a sound more thoughtful than pleased. “Healing well enough,” he muttered, though the words carried a note of satisfaction. The wound had looked worse in the dimness of that first night. Now it seemed shallower, less troubling than he had feared, and the stitches were hardly raised at all.

Straightening, he pressed his palm against his own chest, testing the bandages hidden beneath his tunic. The pressure sent a faint ache radiating through his ribs, but it was tolerable, the kind of pain that told him the wound was knitting slowly. It would be a bother for a while yet, but at least it wasn't infected. He released a breath, part relief, part weariness.

Leading the gelding forward, Aram came to stand before Ana, offering her the reins with a small tilt of his head. “Marruk’s injury isn’t as deep as I first thought,” he told her, his gray-blue eyes meeting her amber ones. “We’ll likely be able to travel faster tomorrow. I expect I’ll be able to ride him again by then.”

The stallion snorted behind him as if to punctuate the statement, stamping a hoof into the soft earth.

Aram adjusted the strap of his satchel and glanced back toward their small camp to ensure nothing of value remained behind. His gaze lingered for a moment on the dying embers of their fire, then returned to Ana. He seemed to consider something, but rather than voice it, he turned his attention back to the horses, running a hand down Marruk’s neck as though grounding himself.

The morning air was brisk, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and damp soil. The forest stirred to life around them with the chatter of squirrels in the branches, the occasional flutter of wings overhead, the distant crash of water farther upriver. Aram stood steady and quiet once again, eyes and ears on everything around them all at once. Solante (going with this because I cannot find the original name >.<) would be within sight in a few hours, and then they could vanish from civilization once again. It was almost over.

--

The sun was sinking lower now, threatening to turn the horizon a deep wash of gold and copper as Aram led the horses off the road. They had made good time, the spires of Solante lying scarcely a mile or two ahead. He found what he wanted just beyond a stand of birches: a sheltered hollow where the stream bent in a lazy curve was practically inviting them to camp in it. Grass grew thick, and there was enough room to tether the horses without tangling them. Aram turned to knot the gelding’s reins to a low branch. Marruk he left free to crop at the grass, looping the reins loosely so the stallion could lift his head at the first sign of trouble.

When both horses were secured, Aram stilled, head cocked faintly to one side. The chatter of crickets was steady, and the trickle of the stream ran unbroken. But still, something in the silence of the birds set a furrow between his brows.

He turned back toward Anastasia, his hand brushing absently along Marruk’s neck as the stallion shifted beside him. “You’re still alright staying here by yourself?” His tone was even, though his pale eyes lingered on her longer than usual, gauging more than her answer alone. Before she could speak, he added, “I’ll leave Marruk with you.”

He gave the stallion’s chest a firm pat, the animal tossing its head with a snort that felt like agreement. “He’s more warhorse than pet, and he won’t break if anything startles him. If something goes wrong, he’ll be of more use than Balius.”

Aram adjusted the strap on his satchel, tightening it across his chest. “I’ll not be long,” he went on. “Supplies, nothing more. Solante’s busy enough that I can move through it without notice.”

He glanced toward the road, then back again. “If anything feels wrong while I’m gone, don’t wait. That gelding knows how to carry you out of harm’s reach.” His lips pressed into the faintest curve of a smile, wry but not unkind. “I’d rather find you two miles down the road cursing me for being slow than come back to find silence.”

Ana moved down to the water's edge as well, just up stream and vaguely concealed by the thin brush of a holly bush. She knelt down, letting the cold water cascade over her hands as she dipped them in. Though she didn't let it show, she did worry of what Aram would find in Solante. Would there be royal guards there inquiring of her? Would there be posters with her face and alleged crimes upon them? She'd not be surprised if there was, but a part of her hoped that Aram would not stumble upon the parchment that had the ability to seal her fate. She could imagine the reward for her was high, be it dead or alive, but she knew her father. He was a twisted man when he became angry, and he would want to see her suffer. He'd want to see Aram suffer for helping her. She prayed to the heavens above that it would never happen.

Sighing, Anastasia splashed the cool water over her skin, scrubbing the night's dirt off of her arms, chest, and face. It helped to wake her up and banish those thoughts of worry from her mind. There was no sense in worrying over something that would never come to pass. Aram was a careful, skilled man. He'd not let anything happen to either of them, she was sure of it. She dried her hands and righted her clothes before returning to the campsite behind them to finish folding and putting away the blankets and such.

Looking up from where she worked, Ana nodded. “Very well then. I do agree, the sooner the better,” she told him, watching distantly as he began checking the stallion's injury. Even she could see how the horse did not shy away, sending a flood of relief through her veins. She'd have felt terrible had the beast been wisely injured. However, another question fluttered about the forefront of her mind. She wanted to ask, "What of you? How do you heal?" but she did not. She did not want to be overbearing, babying a man who had done quite well without her timeless times before. Yet still, she worried, watching as he touched his own chest before sighing. She did as well, quietly. He seemed alright in the least.

Averting her gaze only briefly as he approached, Anastasia took the reins, her soft fingers lightly brushing against the calloused ones of his own. “I'm pleased to hear it. It seems we will all be just fine,” she nodded as she gazed up at him, a small, flitting smile appearing across the warm pink of her lips. She watched him a moment longer, waiting for what that look of consideration might have meant, but she did not push him to speak. The silence was fine. It was comfortable, and they had a long day about them. She ran her fingers down Balius's snout, taking in a deep breath of the earthy, fresh air. Before long, they'd be perfectly safe with the future to take as their own.

--

The day had been long, but it was nearing to be over. The animals had began settling in their nests and dens, the soft chirps and rustle of the woods still echoing softly through the trees until they entered the place chosen to make camp. It was perfectly concealed, and though Anastasia should have felt comforted by that fact, she dreaded the moment that Aram would leave. She did not believe her safety was at risk, but his opinion of her. Though it should not have mattered what a man she'd known for not even a week thought of her, it did. It had become to seem that his opinion was the only one that mattered, and deep down, she feared he'd leave her completely after he learned what she was done. What she was seemingly capable of. It was the only reason she'd not spoken it to him. Her nerves were solidly rattled, but all she could do was wait for him to go and then to return. Only then would she have her answer.

When asked if she would be alright alone, Anastasia had to stop a look of guilt and worry from crossing her face. She bit firmly at the inside of her cheek, her hand absentmindedly rubbing at her arm. She felt.. guilty and afraid. But he needn't know that. She let him talk, the fear of being alone only faintly tamped down at the knowledge that Marruk would be there to aid in her safety. What of his safety? He was still injured...

Just as a frown attempted to plague her lips, Ana glanced away and forced the frown into a small, half hearted smile. “I should be just fine with the two of them with me,” she answered truthfully, her heart thumping and fluttering in her chest at the idea of him worrying for her. Would he hold that same sentiment upon his return? “I must admit that I'm more worried of you.. But I trust you'll return, whether I meet you here or two miles up the road,” she chuckled, her mind easing if only a moment. Her smile warmed, her head tilting a fraction to the side as she peered into those delightful blue eyes. “I'll be alright, I promise. Just hurry back to me."