tooktheblack | for Leah

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for Leah

When the island changed back after a moon of dusty, dry desert, Jon was relieved. He was much happier with what he knew, after all, even if it wasn't the snow and ice that he would have preferred. He decided the best thing to do would be to head to the jungle to hunt once more, Ghost at his side.

It was much easier to bag game when he left Ghost to his own devices and, as such, Jon stripped down to swim in the pool beneath the waterfall while Ghost roamed the jungle. Usual game was monkeys and boar, occasional snakes and birds, and Jon fully expected him to show back up with a muzzle darkened with blood.

Until then, he was content to swim.

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Leah winced, her expression softening immediately; she was not, after all, a total bitch, so even though it wasn't intentional, she felt shitty for sticking her foot in her mouth.

"Fuck. Sorry," she muttered, suddenly very interested in the hems of her shorts. Note to self for future conversations, nix any and all parental anecdotes. "That...sucks."

"Such is life," Jon said, more at ease than he actually felt. It...took some doing, to change, but he wanted to. His life was no longer determined by the accident of his birth and he could choose his own destiny.

"Tell me about a Daskiya, then? What's that?"

"Just a legend," Leah replied, though she was more than happy to go right on along with the subject change. "The Daskiya's an ogress that steals children and cooks them over hot stones. She'd glue their eyes shut so they couldn't see to get away while she sang and danced around the fire."

She shrugged and rolled her eyes a little. "My dad could tell it a lot better." Shit, Leah, stop mentioning your fucking parents.

"Sounds lovely. Reminds me of giants," Jon said, shrugging. He'd found that some of the stories told in Westeros weren't all that different from other places other than name changes, here and there.

"Is it cold, where you're from? Giants live in the far North, far beyond the Wall. At least they do in Westeros."

"It's just a legend," Leah repeated, and blew a lock of hair out of her face. "It's a hell of a lot colder than it is here, but 'far North' makes me think you mean artic temperatures. So no, it's not that cold. And we don't have actual giants."

Just vampires and werewolves, but nevermind. "Doesn't at all surprise me to hear your world does, though, Galahad. Bet there are dragons, too. And unicorns."

"Things I once thought were merely milk-tales turned out to be true," Jon countered. "You have no idea what might be true and what isn't. I never believed there were direwolves outside of a Stark banner until I found Ghost and his siblings."

Jon smirked. Always calling him Galahad, even if it wasn't his name. "Dragons. Westeros was once conquered by Targaryens riding dragons. They say they're extinct, now, but they also say that there's three of them across the Narrow Sea. Not something I'm every going to see, that's for certain."

Well that slapped close enough to home that Leah's frown returned in full force. The Cold Ones, the spirit walkers, the origin story of the tribe--not just legends. Not just stories. Except none of those stories mentioned a daughter assuming the burden of magic and war.

She knew it was stupid to get angry over it, but telling herself that never seemed to keep her from getting angry anyway. Even if the target was innocent.

"And here I thought it was every knight in shining armor's life goal to slay a dragon," she quipped caustically.

"I'm no knight," Jon said coolly. "I'm bastard-born and I worship the Old Gods on top of it. You can't be a knight in Westeros unless you're annointed by a priest of the Seven in a sept."

There weren't many knights north of the Neck for that very reason. The Seven meant nothing to Jon; the Old Gods weren't entirely benevolent, no, but they felt real in a way little else did. Jon dipped beneath the water for a moment, relishing the feeling it cool against his skin, and came back up.

"Besides. I wouldn't slay it. I'd ride it."

Leah thought about trying to correct him, telling him she didn't mean a literal knight, just the stupid chivalry act he kept whipping out, but it probably wasn't worth it. That, and him dunking under the surface of the pool and coming back up was distracting as hell; and she'd been so close to overlooking the whole shirtless and wet thing.

"You'd ride the dragon," she drawled with an amused hum, lifting her leg out of the water to wiggle her bare toes. "Better you than me, Galahad. I like being alive, uneaten and not on fire."

"If the dragon lets you ride it, it's probably not going to roast you. Though, they say Targaryens were immune to fire."

They also said that a Stark ran with ice in his veins and Jon didn't know if that was necessarily true. He'd run cold plenty enough on the Wall, yes, but deep down he still felt like he had feelings and warmth in him.

"If it lets you ride it," Leah stressed, and decided to hell with it, she wanted to swim and Galahad and his pecs weren't going to scare her off because Leah Clearwater did not scare, all right? Ever.

She pulled her feet out of the water and stood, chose a rock a few paces away from the edge of the pool to lay her clothes on before she started stripping off her shirt and shorts. "I'm just saying that's an awfully risky if," she continued conversationally, without glancing back. "Plus your pal might not like it if you got yourself another pet. You're lucky he puts up with you as it is."

"Ghost tolerates me, at best," Jon said, agreeing. It wasn't quite true. Ghost could and had saved his life several times and had always been a faithful friend even when Jon didn't know who he could trust. It wouldn't do to malign him.

"He seems to have taken to you, though, which is unusual. Did you have a pet wolf at home?"

Leah stilled for a moment, fingers pausing and then toying with the button and zipper of her shorts before she continued stripping down to her underwear. It wasn't like she was bound to keep it a secret anymore, and clearly at least a few people knew about Jacob. Hiding it seemed...pointless.

Plus, this was a guy who came from a land of giants. With fucking dragons, possibly.

"The wolf is an important animal to my tribe," she began, folding her tank top and shorts carefully and stacking them on the rock. "Our legends speak of a great being, Q'wati, who once traveled across the world and tried to make everyone's lives better. When Q'wati came to Quileute lands, there were no people--only a pack of wolves. Q'wati chose two wolves, mates, and transformed them into people. They were the first Quileutes--the first of my tribe. They're our brothers even today."

Since she couldn't fuss with her clothes any more without looking stupid, she flicked a quick glance in Jon's direction. "Am I boring you?"

"Not at all," Jon said softly, meeting her eyes. It sounded fascinating, a people who came from wolves and he wondered if the Starks had done that. Certainly, all the legends said they descended from the First Men and perhaps that was true - but the Children of the Forest were there first. Who was to say they hadn't turned wolves into men?

"Tell me more, then?"

Leah felt a quick flash of warmth spread across her face and neck, but she did her best to ignore it; it just felt odd, to share these stories with anyone, especially someone outside of the tribe.

"Q'wati declared that the Quileute tribe would always be brave, like the wolves," she continued softly, resuming her place on the edge of the pool to dangle her feet in the water. "We would always be strong. We have...magic in our blood." Magic sounded better than 'genetic quirk', didn't it? "Some of the warriors of the tribe could even take the shape of a wolf again, to protect our lands from our enemies."

"No wonder he likes you," Jon said, looking from Leah to Ghost and back again. Someone who had magic in their blood, wolf magic...that was almost like being a skinchanger, in a way.

"Before, back in Westeros, I was able to put my mind in Ghost, experience life through his eyes. They called it warging."

Yeah, Leah thought, glancing over at the big guy with a soft, barely audible sigh. No wonder.

The simple and disarmingly forthright declaration brought her attention back to Jon, and she studied him for a moment with interest. "I guess you can't do that here," she replied after a moment, half a statement and half a question.

"No, not any longer. We used to be a seamless team," Jon said, "And I sort of miss that. I used to feel a lot more connected than I do now. But there are other things that make the island better than being back home. The weather's nice and warm."

He softened a bit. "I have my brother. He's dead back home."

Leah winced a little, but it didn't seem right to say 'I'm sorry' again. Sometimes people died. It sucked, but at least they had time together here, or whatever. She wasn't sure she'd be able to appreciate it, if her dad showed up, but Galahad wasn't her, his situation wasn't hers.

"The only thing I miss about home is my brother," she admitted, huffing a little and easing into the water. "My mom sometimes, too, but mostly Seth."

"How old is your brother, then? You're not all that old yourself."

Maybe by Westerosi standards she was but that was because people tended to have a short life expectancy in a war. Leah would last longer than most. She had a fire in her that most ladies of the court simply didn't and that was one of the main things that he'd admired about Ygritte.

"He's almost sixteen," Leah replied quietly, unhurriedly swimming away from the edge of the water. It made her sad, it always made her sad, to think about how young Seth was, what he had to be because of the stupid fucking bloodsuckers.

And because of her.

"Your brother that's here, he older or younger than you?"

"Originally, I was a bit older, I think," Jon said. It was hard to remember, especially now that it'd changed somewhat. "But he has been on the island for a long while. He's several years older than he was and now I'd say he's about two and twenty."

That, Leah thought, would have to be really strange. Seth being here and older than her? She couldn't get her head around it. Even though Jacob had been here a while, he was still around the same age as the Jacob she'd been about to follow as an Alpha, and hadn't lived through the same things yet.

"Two and twenty," she repeated, and laughed before she could stop herself, splashed a curtain of water in his direction with the flat of her hand. "How are you even real, Galahad, who the hell talks like that?"

"Two and twenty. It's Common, isn't it?" Jon asked, tilting his head a bit and assessing her. She spoke the same language as him, yes, but somehow the word choice was radically different. Sometimes it was like it wasn't Common at all.

"How would you have said it, then, milady?"

Leah scowled, and rather than answer him splashed a much larger arc of water at him. "I am not your lady," she yelled back for what felt like the thirtieth time.

"And don't think because we had this whole 'bonding moment' that you're suddenly not irritating eighty percent of the time."

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