When she became aware again, she was trembling from pain and cold. The extreme drop in temperature was not something she was used to­- and gods willing, she would rather never go through again- and she nearly gasped at how stiff and sore her joints were when she tried to move them. There was no light streaming in the translucent material of the tents, so she knew the moon to still be high in the sky, and as such, she expected the hours to only grow colder until morning arrived, and the sun rose high above the rocky slopes of Mt. Bur-Omisace.

 

The blankets around her were warm, but she trembled within them still, shaking as she pulled them closer around her figure. Perhaps she was fooling herself in believing she could endure such a journey, through elements foreign to her life, and she briefly wondered how the children in the next tent were managing, having lived the same in the warm, muggy climate of Dalmasca. What a night to have switched partners in the tents! If only Penelo were sharing the sweeping fabric with her, then Ashe wouldn’t have felt guilty about worrying over the cold only for herself. She briefly toyed with the idea of leaving the tent in order to check on them, but knew it was a terrible idea- the air was far colder beyond her tent then within it.

 

For several minutes that seemed like hours, she merely hugged her arms as close to her chest as she could, pulling the blankets up like a hood around her face and under her chin. Even with the heat trapped within the material, she still felt as if she were naked in the chill. Perhaps Mt. Bur-Omisace wasn’t always so biting and frozen, but she doubted she would ever see the mountain in any other form.

 

There was a shuffling movement next to her and she inwardly swore, for she had been trying to keep her chattering teeth as quiet as possible. The sky pirate stirred, and she heard a muffled exclamation, perhaps, too, as a response to how cold the air had gotten within the tent.

 

“Gods, it’s freezing,” he mumbled, and then she felt a weight on her blanket. It took her a moment to identify it as his hand. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

 

How badly she wanted to snap at him that she was unused to such temperatures, and that, given her circumstances, she was hardly outfitted for such a arduous journey anyway, but she could no longer properly open her jaw to form the words because of the clicking of her teeth against each other, and she knew that he could not see her face in the mounds of blankets she had wrapped around herself. So she did nothing, half expecting him to turn over and fall back asleep.

 

She did not expect him to move further, sitting up from his position behind her. She could hear the gentle scuffing of fabric, and then his hand was on her shoulder once more.

 

“These blankets are not meant to provide such warmth,” he told her. “We should have bought better ones before coming here.”

 

“How- long until morning?” she managed to choke out through her constricting throat.

 

“Hours, at least,” was his answer, which dislodged an anguished moan from her. “Princess, you’ll never make it to sunrise at this rate.”

 

Again, she did not respond to him, but buried her face in her pillows in an attempt to stop the tears that threatened to leak out from the corners of her eyes. She had never felt such pain before, not even in the midst of battle, when she was weary and bruised, for this pain was in her skin and she could not shake it. It burned with each movement, like a poison.

 

She gasped in alarm when one of his arms snaked around her and pulled her backwards, closer to him. It took her far too long to respond to the action, and she wished that somehow she could attribute the delay to the cold, but by the time she had registered what he was doing, he had already tugged the blanket out from around her. In several swift motions, he had put both of their blankets over both of their forms, and his hand was still sitting on her waist, feeling strangely hot.

 

“What-?” she began, thrown too far off to recover.

 

“Trust me, it will save your life,” he told her, sounding truly serious for perhaps the first time in her knowing him. “It’s the best way to conserve heat.”

 

She didn’t fight him when he pulled her closer still, until her body was lying flush against his. Despite the cold still biting at her exposed skin, her mind was awhirl at the new realizations flying through her head. It was the closest she had ever been to a man since Rasler’s death, and as much as she should have despised his very intentions, she craved the feeling of warm skin against her own. The contact lit her frozen flesh, as if the ice was melting, and she could not, given everything, turn it down.

 

She forced her muscles to relax, and then his arm fell around her, holding her against him, and his fingers intertwined with her own, pulling her arm closer to her chest. It was an incredibly intimate position, and she felt oddly vulnerable, but his breath on her neck was hot and wonderful, and he smelled faintly of spices, like an exotic land outside her boundaries. She let herself melt into the embrace, feeling her form warming as she did.

 

“I’ve never felt such cold,” she whispered, unsure as to why she was speaking at all, and equally confused as to what, exactly, she was referring to. He didn’t ask her to clarify, and she could only assume he accepted her statement at face value, and he shifted slightly behind her, and she could feel his muscles move against her back. When he was silent for a few minutes following her declaration, she turned a bit, as if she could look over her shoulder back at him. “Balthier?”

 

“Hmm?” he answered, murmuring against the dip between her neck and her shoulder. She wondered when he had gotten into such a position, and then realized that she hardly cared. The human contact was so welcome a relief that she couldn’t question his motives or his true colors- for now, he was just a man, a companion, offering her a comfort. The sudden contact of his lips to her skin made her freeze, and she forgot what she had been about to say.

 

She made a strange breathy noise, like a gasp, and she felt him still, and then, a few seconds later, he moved again, slowly and deliberately, tracing his chin across the line of her shoulder, up towards her neck. She turned her head to give him more room, an action that was done so unconsciously she failed to realize she had shifted at all. He kissed her jaw line softly, delicately, and she nearly wept at the touch.

 

She had no words to offer to explain to him what she was feeling, but she felt as if his action demanded a response of some kind, and so she lifted her hand, still entwined with his, to her mouth, brushing her lips lightly over his knuckles. It wasn’t much, but it seemed to be enough, for he moved his head and sighed near her ear, his breath blowing several strands of hair onto her cheek.

 

“Sleep well, princess,” he said softly, and she breathed deeply, filling her lungs.

 

She felt warmer already