She could not blame him for flinching; she was a pathetic, bedraggled and shameful creature, a far cry from the untouched young woman his lips had formed sweet words of love to.<br/><br/>The touch of his mouth was a shock, and she was so numbed that her own could barely begin to soften in response, before he whispered to her, and then stepped back. He made his apology to Brom, and the sword was sheathed with a scrape that made her heart twist with gratitude, though the crude taunt that followed made her stomach churn.<br/><br/>Heartsick, she followed the firm tug of the rope, but her head twisted to watch Owen, and half-raise one scraped and dirtied hand to him in farewell. He'd offered her love, and that chance was being stolen from them. And now he'd offered her that all the more dangerous thing, as she was brought away to horrendous captivity - hope.