Defender Beyond the Wall
Jonchuckles roughly, turning his head around to Tormund in disbelief, "But I don't understand? You're honestly not that bad..." he admits, "Actually, you're really good."
"Right, well. Apparently last year I wasn't tough enough for them. Cause god forbid you want to go get yer fucking broken finger fixed during tryouts," he snorts sarcastically, as both Jon and him duck their heads, entering into the dark Quidditch Cave.
Following the creaky-rock path, their uniform capes blow ruggedly behind them, striding in through the hissing mist. The glittering walls of the cave echo their steps quietly, dripping plinks of dewy water from the tunnel's earthy-black ceiling.
Jon scratches his beard, slightly amused, "Well you're on the team now, that's all that matters? And today, I think we're going to win..." He quickens his pace in anticipation, following the upcoming light at the end of the cave.
Tormund grunts softly, "Aye, I am here. Thanks to you,” he points out, glancing quickly at him, smiling gratefully as they exit the shadows. Jon shrugs small, “Well, I wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t so good at clubbing.” He smiles, “I still have that black eye, you know.”
“Yeah,” Tormund winces. ”Sorry ‘bout that.” The two of them pause, immediately blinded by a ray of light, drenching a path straight to the main stairs of the Quidditch Tower.
Tormund absorbs the warm sunlight on his face for a moment.
"Ahhh. ‘Feel like I haven't felt the sun in weeks." He smiles, "So you never said... How did ya get her to change her mind?"
Jon slides his goggles up to his hairline as they huff up the Quidditch staircase, his other hand gripping a strong hold on his broomstick. "I dunno, we made a deal. I knew she wasn't backing down as Seeker."
"Yeah—" Tormund chokes, "and in other news, grass is green. I mean, what kind of deal was it?" He wiggles his eyebrows.
"Okay, well, since I used to be Keeper before that at Durmstrang..." he rolls his eyes, processing the innuendo late. "I said I would be Keeper, if well, you could be Beater. And honestly, I like being the last line of defense anyway, the pressure being the last defender."
"Well, thank you Snow. But you do know that Keeper was Whiny boy Narharis' position right? He's going to be sorely pissed off."
Ha-ha. Poor Daario...
Jon shrugs innocently. "Oh... no, really? I...didn't realize..." He dips his chin into his chest, twitching down a half-smile.
"That's amazing," The red-headed boy cackles loud, shaking his shoulder roughly. "I like you more and more each day, Snow."
As they reach the top of the stairs, Jon slows his steps in thought. "Do you know, why Gilly quit last year? I heard she was actually a fair Beater?"
Tormund arches a brow softly, "Fair? She was a firecracker that one, no less. But she had to quit before the O.W.L.S. started last year. She went for tutoring."
Jon exhales frowning, "Oh..."
"Yeah. But it's not all that bad though," he remarks nonchalantly, "That's how she met Sam."
Jon's eyebrows climb up to his forehead, "Really? Tutoring?"
"Yeah. It was a bit of a lucky draw for the two of them. And she hated Quidditch anyway, said it reminded her of home."
Jon smiles back at him skeptically. "That's nice then, I guess... about Sam."
Tormund shields his hand up over his eyes, blocking the sun. "Yeah, nice about Sam. Not so much about her home. Her father, is a fucking arsehole. You know, he just up and left her and her sisters alone, for years, to do god-knows-what kinda dark magic business in the states? Gilly was only three, I think..."
Jon frowns sympathetically, “That’s horrible.”
"And did ya know she's never even been to school before Hogwart's? She barely knew how to read when she came here... And now, here she is," he smirks sheepishly, "doubling all my exam scores..."
"That's brilliant." Jon beams. "Her and Sam seem great together."
"Yeah they are...“ he smiles, putting on his gloves while he walked.
Up in the distance, there's a faint roar of a crowd- cheering and chanting in the background, drums thudding wildly closer as they head up the stairs. Jon can't help but grin at the familiar feeling, the buzzing electric current now flowing hot in his veins.
The two players step up along the top of the wall with great strength, Jon's blood pumping faster with the adrenaline. He tilts his head up, squinting up at the clear open sky, white light shining bright in the bitter air. And far out in the distance, he can see the Quidditch pitch flags flapping harsh and cold in the biting wind.
"Well, here we go. Today's gonna be a good day, I can feel it." He quietly claps a hand on Tormund's back as they head down towards the gate steps.
They stride along the wall of the Training Grounds, the thrumming sound of screaming, excited students intensifies as they head down. Jon can now hear his teammates, as he steps down the stairs into the secluded Quidditch Gate cell. But as the two players enter down into the gate-locked chamber, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students chant wildly, overlapping each other in a blurred mesh beyond the wall. He stands in the back stopping on the last step as the noise begins to fade quieter, surely blocked by a set sound-proofing charm...
Dany spots him right away.
She turns around, flashing him a child-like grin in excitement, her silver hair knitted back, flipping fiercely in the wind. Her cheeks stained a rosy pink from the feverish windchill, and Jon feels a suddenly new twinge of flutters, tickling around in his insides... and he's not so sure it's Quidditch related anymore. He smiles back at her, secretly wanting to be in the front by the gate.
This is was their first Quidditch match and all he could think about was what happened the other night.
Fuck, she’d kill him if she knew what he was thinking about. He needed to focus.
Gendry yells over to him and Tormund, as he teases poor Arya, holding her broom up over her head. He chuckles, as she jumps up desperately for it. But it was merely an act, because with a quick kick in the back of the knee, Gendry was doubling over in a spasm, and she snatches it back with an angry huff. Jon laughs, watching her grin down triumphantly at the dramatic boy, moaning in exaggerated pain.
Dany steps up, leaning on the small ledge before the gate wall, and then clears her throat so everyone can hear her. "Alright, everyone listen up."
She purses her lips.
Not everyone was paying attention to her.
"Hey!" Meera smacks Gendry quick in the back of the head. "Shut it?!"
"Thankyou... Meera." She hawk eyes him as he winces sheepishly. "So— the lineup is the same as from the last time we discussed, except... now, Giantsbane, you're the new Beater with Waters, and Snow you'll be Keeper, instead of Naharis."
"And Naharis you'll move up as chaser with the girls."
Daario shrieks out in shock. "What? I thought... Snow was Beater?!"
Daenerys stands tall and poised, eyeing down at him coldly, "Things changed." She flickers her eyes at Jon for a moment, "There was a fair compromise... as Jon selflessly suggested that Tormund would make a better Beater than him. And he's already proven himself an excellent Keeper. So what's done is done."
Jon bows his head, hiding back a small, victorious smirk. But considering Daario actually looks like he's about to cry, he seals his mouth shut— as there was now a new kind of rage beginning to brew behind the disappointed pretty boy's eyes.
"Good," Dany observes his expression, "Take that frustration out on the other team. Hufflepuff will be our toughest match this year and I want to start out strong."
She explains their match ups, waving her wand quick over the play board, the wooden player pieces dancing to life as she speaks. "Again, we'll go over the basics just to be clear. Beaters... Gendry and Tormund, you must especially watch out for Lestrange. She's quick and she's smart. Very smart."
"And Chasers— Arya, Meera, Naharis, watch out for Renly... he has a nasty swing, but more importantly, watch out for Greyworm. He plays extremely aggressive goal keeping and he will come out from his post. But that's when we need to strike the hardest. Got it?"
Arya nods ferociously, stepping in front of Gendry, and not-so-coincidentally also on his toes.
"Ow—"
"Alright, my team! They should be opening the gate soon. Are we ready?!"
Jon watches Dany nod her head, answering her own question, as the team cheers back in a quick united chant. They all match her expression determinedly, and follow her lead. He stands there watching as she adjusts herself on her broom, angling it, tilting it up in the air, then mounting it steady.
Suddenly the gate lock hitches open, and the wall slowly begins to rise up. The booming sound of chaotically cheering students floods in around them— instantly snapping Jon out of his daze and into serious game mode.
Then one by one hovering onto their brooms Dany, Arya, Gendry, Daario, Meera and Tormund zoom out, flying up high into the cold, sunny cheering stadium.
However, Jon was last in line, and as soon as he leaned forward to lift off the ground, a strong arm gripped hold of his broom, pulling him quickly back into the shadows.
What the— who—
He inhales sharply, his eyes widened in threatened shock and he immediately goes to defend himself reaching for his wand- but bigger arms circle around him instead, holding him down.
A familiar sounding deep voice speaks in his ear, soothing him protectively. "Jon, hey, s’alright, it's okay, it's just me..."
He relaxes... upon recognizing the man in the dark fur coat right away. "Professor— Stark... I'm —sorry. You scared me," he stammers, shortly embarrassed.
He stares back at the powerfully broad-shouldered, gentle man. Feeling a pang of neediness in his chest.
Wow, he missed him. He wanted to hug him. Tell him alone he feels here. But he doesn’t, and stands up tall, as the professor drapes a warm arm around his shoulders.
Ned chuckled heartily, "No, that's alright son, it's my fault, I was just comin’ in from behind. I didn't want to interrupt your lovely Captain's speech."
“Oh, it’s okay.”
"Listen, Jon, I uh,” he clears his throat huskily, “I came here, cause I wanted to wish you good luck today... And to also— uh, well speaking of your captain..." His smile fades a little, "I would also like to have a word with you, and Ms. Targaryen after the match. You can meet in my office afterwards when you can..." He dips his chin at him sadly.
"I would like to talk to you about... some things."
Jon barely nods back, his eyes more wary about the true motive for this meeting, but he answers politely anyway. "Oh, thanks... and uh sure," he glances back anxiously towards the field, "I'll let her know."
It was probably about Bran... But what if it’s about their secret visits to the Room of Requirement?
Professor Stark nods, grinning widely again, "Alright son. Now, go ahead," he gestures out into green grass beyond, and then cups his shoulders warmly. "Good luck."
Jon nods a silent thank you and then angles himself over his broom and leans forward. He pulls up on the handle and then in a full half second, he speeds off.
With the flash of the sun and the wind blowing cold in his dark tied-back hair, he grips a tighter hold onto his broomstick, holding it stronger against the wind current. He notices the noise of the crowd suddenly falling quieter as he rushes up into the field in his late start, whooshing fast past the stands.
This past week, he had definitely noticed a change in the way his fellow Gryffindors looked at him now, since the Bran incident...
People no longer grimaced whenever he passed them in the halls. People actually looked at him like a person and not a monster— and he was grateful for that. But now...
Now, the stands were... almost silent. The air was tense.
Jon tugs up hard on his handle, slowing himself down by his post. He rests himself in the Keeper's position, high in the air, hundreds of feet above the ground.
He can't help but scan out searching into the crowd, praying for the announcer to begin... but what he found was worse.
Everyone was definitely looking right at him. Whispering quietly to each other with fearful, shameful expressions.
Jon catches Dany's eye as she flits by him, her hair whipping clean down her back. She nods at him fiercely, pursing her lips into a determined pout. Her eyes narrow past the crowd protectively of him as she jerks, spinning back around to face the opposing team.
Across from her, Drogo was calm. Strongly mounting his broom with one hand, easily balancing himself with heavy power. His thick brows knead together at Dany, furrowing with cocky intimidation. Then he grins wide, his cheeks curving his black war-painted badger stripes, and then suddenly, he drops, angling straight down, bolting off on his broom.
He holds out an open oversized arm towards the crowd, drawing the attention away from Jon, demanding for their applause. They slowly start to cheer, and so he raises his flexed arm up and down again, eliciting even more noise as his cape blows gallantly behind him.
Soon the crowd erupts into a frenzy, as Drogo cockily circles around again, while the Hufflepuff section drum-chants his name.
A speaker-tapping sound echoes over the swooning, cheers and chants, as the Quidditch announcer taps the speaker tip of his wand, once, twice, before speaking, "Testing, one, two. Testing check... Hello?"
The crowd laughs, getting louder, as the friendly voice travels throughout the entire oval shaped pitch.
"Gooood afternoooon, ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards.... We have finally once again gathered here today, as one, united school, for the greatly anticipated first Quidditch match of the year!" the boyish voice booms passionately. "The competitors? Last year's reigning champions... Hufflepuff! versus last year's third place team, ...Grrryffindor!"
The students stomp and cheer wildly from their seats, supporting their houses, waving brightly colored yellow and brown flags, violently swishing their maroon and gold pom-poms.
The announcer smoothly sings again, "And my name is..." he waits for the crowd expectantly, as the students gain momentum from the drums...
"...Hot! Pie!" they rejoice in rabid excitement, the Professors rolling their eyes in unison.
"Annnnd, for our entertainment today," Hot Pie continues, "We have our very own celebrity here with us, the mighty, Bulgarian Seeker, Drogo Dothraki, as our Hufflepuff Seeker for today." And almost instantly, girls from about every house section all swoon in a feverish sigh, the boys all hooting out manically, as Hot Pie shouts over them, "...and the Bulgarian Mustang is matched today with Gryffindor's very own Valyrian Firebird, Daenerys Targaryen!" More chants and screaming boom from the Gryffindor side.
Jon quickly slides down his weather-proof leather goggles. Then he squints up at the blinding white sky, scrunching up his rough flushed cheeks, waiting for the whistle.
He flinches for a moment as the cannon explodes, signaling the ball releasing ceremony. The Quidditch professor, Monsieur Sparrow strides out peacefully onto the field. Behind him, another boy struggles, carrying over the Quidditch chest, dropping it in the center of the pitch.
Opening the chest, Monsieur Sparrow carefully lifts out the Quaffle, while the other boy waits by the chained balls for his command.
And with the snap of the buckle, he releases the Golden Snitch. Jon targets it, zoning in on the tiny flitting ball, but he loses it fast. Though from what he can see, he watches Dany crane her neck around, still following it with a close eye.
"Now I want a nice clean match," the High Sparrow echoes out to the entire stadium. The boy unchains the Bludgers, backing away as they scramble up into the air, trailing a jagged ear-piercing scream in their path.
The High Sparrow then blows his whistle, bending his knees, and throws up the dark grooved ball, as Hot Pie spews out, "And the Quaffle's been released! The game has begun!"
•
The crowd cries out in unison, as Hot Pie reports gravely, "Ohhhh! Tough blow, by Gendry Waters!" he echoes, "That was a hard crack by the Bull folks... nearly knocking Hufflepuff chaser, Loras Tyrell off his broom!"
The sun had gone down a bit, fading the evening sky into a blended blue and pale pink. Jon scans over at the scoreboard, as the game drags on intensely. He wipes the chilled sweat from his forehead with his cape, checking the numbers again. The score was currently: 100 points to 30 points... And to everyone's surprise, Gryffindor was winning.
Tormund circles past Jon with his bat, and then body checks himself into the post, caught in a pick by following too close behind Leta Lestrange.
She zig-zags, hugging the Quaffle with one arm as she blitzes by him, darting sideways to Jon. She decks Tormund off her back, as she slings her arm over him throwing the ball at the left hoop.
But Jon's already there, ducking down fast, whacking the Quaffle out with the tail end of his broom back out to Arya. The crowd cheers fanatically, some even scream-chanting his name.
The atmosphere has taken quite a turn since Jon has saved nearly 26 shots on goal.
"My oh, my, what a guy! Jon Snow with another unbelievable block!" Hot Pie cries out.
Up ahead, Dany finally catches a shiny glimpse of the Snitch, whizzing down below by the decks. She swarms, dashing down fast.
Drogo zooms past her, also spotting the golden ball and Dany shoves into him hard, grating him against the pitch post's tapestry. He growls as they continue straight down, ramming into each other- soon to reach daringly close to the ground. The crowd audibly holds their breath as they both stretch their arms out for the winning catch.
Back by the goal posts, Jon winces as Gendry loads back his one armed-wooden club, about to swing. He waits a beat for the Bludger, and then smack pummels it right into Leta Lestrange, spinning her off beyond the goal posts.
"Ooohhhhhh!" The crowd moans in sympathy as Hot Pie winces, "Holy cricket, that's gonna be a tough one to recover from people."
Jon focuses his eyes, blinking fast behind his foggy goggles. In the distance, he sees Dany fly, racing side by side with Drogo, smashing him into the post decks. Suddenly Tormund cries out, "Snow watch out!" And Jon snaps his vision back to a wailing Bludger plowing straight for his head.
Instinctually he flips upside down, thrashing the ball out with the end of his broom again, tossing it out for Tormund to beat up ahead with his club.
The crowd sighs in relief, as Hot Pie responds dramatically, "Oh! Snow! What a backend shot he's got! This folks, has got to be his twenty-" he stops himself upon suddenly recognizing.
"Oh no, what's this?"
He pauses again, and the crowd goes silent.
... "I don't believe it, people. Daenerys Targaryen... has caught the Golden Snitch!!!"
"That awards Gryffindor an automatic one-hundred and fifty points! ...Gryffindor wins!!"
Down below, the red and gold sea of students erupt into a massive celebration. The bass drums plunder on as Dany grins triumphantly, holding her fist up high, while her messy braids flop in the wind. Arya dives down swatting her a high five while Tormund whips around Daario, fist bumping him victoriously.
•
The dusk faded sky falls darker as a sickening breeze shudders through the forbidden forest. The majestic trees spur in the background from the nightly winds, as the full moon glows round above the canopy. Trailing in a chaotic dancing line towards the school, the champion team of red, skip hops together on a drunken-high, celebrating back towards the castle.
Well, all of the champion team except for a certain two players... that were miles back behind them.
Dany and Jon walk along the grassy-sand path alone; the cold sky and silver moon following close behind them.
They're both still in their dirty uniforms, except now Jon's added on an extra layer. His warm fur coat hangs over his shoulders heavily as he explains to Dany about their meeting with Professor Stark, and that he thinks they're in serious trouble.
"He told me he wanted you to come too. I swear."
Dany squints at him coyly, as if she's pretending not to believe him. "Mhm hm."
He grins back at her, but then quickly looks away again, unexpectedly flustered. "It's true."
He just noticed the messy arrangement of her braids, the unexpected way they stuck out in every direction, and his stomach did that funny thing again.
"Professor Stark doesn't joke Daenerys. He's a very serious man. So if he wants to see us, then I dunno... I think he knows."
Dany rolls her eyes, "Oh come on, no, he can't know? The Room of Requirement is a completely safe haven? It's fool proof." She shivers, the biting chill of the wind blowing past them wickedly. "I mean, it doesn't even show up on my father's map?"
Ignoring her words completely, Jon shrugs off his coat. "...Are you cold?"
She shakes her head at him, but then he steps over, wrapping his giant fur coat around her shoulders anyway.
She pauses for a moment, and touches the fur— processing his gesture. Then she purses her lips, holding back a false smile, "I'm not cold Jon..."
"Yes you are." He can't help but laugh at how small she looks in it, as hangs draped over her, completely oversized.
"No— I'm not." She clutches the furs over her shoulders again and then another shudder ripples through her body. "I'm not cold."
He squints one look at her and scoffs.
"Okay fine, then here." He reaches for her to take it off, sliding a hand across her back and she ducks away.
"Mhm, no..." she slowly spins back around, smirking defiantly.
The right corner of his mouth tips up slowly. "...No?"
“Yes.” She giggles, sinking down into the furs, "No," she repeats, slipping her arms in. "I think— I'll keep it on, even though I'm not cold." She pretends to examine down the length of it, the material. "It's quite nice."
He stares at her in awe. Observing her. “You quite literally always do the opposite of what people say, did you know that?”
"What? That’s not true." She argues plainly, "I just... changed my mind."
“Exactly,” he chuckles, gesturing to her, "You're proving my point again." Leaning toward her, he clutches over the fur against the small of her back, earning himself a smack on the arm.
Then a hopeful thought dawns on him, rethinking her words. "Wait. Changed... your mind?"
He couldn't help but think that could have meant something more than literal. Maybe about the other night.
"Yeah, I’m thinking I'll keep this for the winter coming..." she smirks, nudging his shoulder, "You know, it's going to be a terrible one, so I've heard."
He throws his head back a second, "Oh, so now you’re going to keep it, this whole winter?" He tugs at the collared fur around her neck. “Sorry, that’s not happening." Cold fingers brush against the heated skin of her shoulder, and she squeals in mirth at the chill, recoiling away from him, "Jon! You're like ice— no!"
Wow.
Her laugh paired with his name sings right through him— a wind chime in the crisp wind, and he frowns, stopping dead in his tracks. "Well, Dany that's my favorite coat, so...”
She stops too, crossing her arms to face him. He sighs at the ever-nagging thought.
That he wants to touch her... skin again.
He catches her gaze with that intention, pushing a look with a bit more intensity. She definitely notices and suddenly, she stops laughing.
Her smile fades quickly, as he walks closer. "What's wrong?"
He tugs her arm softly, “Nothing.” He reaches around her, slowly pulling her towards him— and as he slides his hand under the coat she inhales a sharp breath at the contact.
Oh.
Lowering his head, he slips his hand under and around her waist, and settles himself in against her, wrapping the coat around him too. She freezes as his breath falls husky against her cheek, a whisper to her ear.
"Or we could just share." He breathes as his hand, which had first felt cold, was now hot around her waist.
Dany regrettably sinks into his touch, her voice shaky. "Jon—"
"What?" He murmurs against her neck and she hugs around his waist, allowing him to bury into her further. He dips his chin down humming in between her neck and shoulder, pressing a kiss against her neck, feeling the warmth of her skin against his lips.
"No," she barely breathes, paralyzed still. She regains her composure, pushing him off of her, "I don't want to share things with you."
He sighs in avid frustration, rolling his eyes. "Come on, Dany, why can't we... just," he takes her hand by the fur sleeve, "Didn't you, you know, change your mind?"
Her face remains serious and frozen, while she waits for him to finish, but he only sighs deeper, his expression becoming more serious... more disappointed, more longing.
She frowns, caught off guard. "What? You mean about the other night? I wasn't— talking about that. Why would you think that was what I meant?"
He looks into her pale eyes and nods, touching soft over the back of her hand. He flits his eyes down at her lips for a second, "I just want to kiss you— like that, again. I can't stop thinking about it."
Her mouth parts open slightly, peering down at his hand pushing under her sleeve, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over her bare wrist. She stutters out, "Jon. We— kissed once. I thought we agreed?"
"Agreed on what? And I think it was a little more than once, if I can recall correctly," he smirks unashamed.
She glares away, "We agreed when I said that I didn't feel... a connection further to pursue." She breathes heavily, "And then you said, that you didn't either. And so we agreed that it was a stupid idea in the first place?"
He exhales a visible, impatient breath of air. Reaching up he tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He closes his eyes, upon feeling her ice cold cheek flushing warm against his fingers. He reaches down and brings up both of her hands between his and sighs hotly against her skin. "No. I want to try again," he murmurs warm against her knuckles. "You know I was lying. I want that feeling again."
She stares back at him for a moment, glancing around at the space they were still standing in. Back at the castle that was barely a foggy shadow in the distance.
"No. Jon." she backs away slightly, pulling her hands back down, though curiously, still holding onto them. "This, this is all too much for me right now... and I know, you don't understand—"
"Understand what."
"That— that after the other night... my head... it's just been all... messy? Because of you? I can't— think properly."
She turns her face away from him, embarrassed as he moves closer to her again. "Something bad is happening, and a walking army of dead people are coming to kill us all and you're actually thinking about something like kissing?"
He arches up his brows together softly in defeat, sliding his hands away. Immediately feeling the sting of the cold from where his skin loses contact with hers. He crosses his arms, "Well, when you put it like that..."
He starts walking again... back towards the school, "I just don't understand why it can't be both? I mean it's not like we're dealing with those problems in this very moment..."
"That's true," she says, pacing after him, "but I can't think clearly when... I'm feeling like that. I've never felt like that, I've never felt anything like that before. And I'm not in control of my emotions. So forgive me, if I just can't let myself feel something, as silly as that, when there's something so much bigger than you and I going on." She bites her lip, "Like for example, Brandon Stark is completely paralyzed. Does that mean nothing to you, that he'll never walk again?"
He tilts his head at her for a second in pitied fondness, and then faces her fully— not daring to mention the fact that in fair comparison, they just played a silly game of Quidditch. His eyes soften, watching her pant anxiously in conflicted confusion.
What had scared her so much about him the other night? Was she finally seeing him as the monster he was?
Probably. What happened that night wasn't normal. But he knows it wasn't that feeling that scared her like it had scared him. She was scared for an entirely different reason and he was determined to figure out what.
"Hey. It's okay. I'm sorry for... pressuring you." He whispers huskily, "You don't have to do anything that makes you feel stressed."
She stares hotly back at him but then her stance diffuses when his eyes darken.
"But what you can't do, is let the world's problems dictate how you feel about yourself. You're not responsible for what's happening here, Dany? That's an impossible ideal in itself."
She watches his face shifting quietly, a dark shadow moving across, contouring it in an oddly familiar way. Or so he thought? Unable to put his thoughts into words... or her thoughts... she simply just nods back, understanding him.
"Okay?" He shuffles around her, stepping away slowly- his dark eyes, asking her to follow him. "We can do this together. We've already learned so much this week, how we can defend ourselves? Now we just take it one step at a time."
She nods again, though it seemed as though her thoughts were still rearranging in a jumbled mess.
"And then," he goes on, as she follows his steps cautiously. "We'll do what we can when the moment comes..."
He ruffles a quiet hand over the furs still on her shoulders. "And in this moment, we need to go meet with Professor Stark."