"Slept far more uncomfortable places than a bed where my feet hang off a little," he answers, dropping one arm around her, fingers stroking light against her shoulder. He'd never call himself a gentle man, doesn't think most other people would either, but he's capable of it, every now and again. With the right people and the right times.

"Suppose you weren't prepared to drag home a giant, I'll forgive you this time," he teases gently. "Don't worry yourself, lass. Not about me, anyway."

He's not worth the worry. Not even a little bit that might come his way over the smallest things. She has bigger things to think about.