tooktheblack | for Leah

The wolf's unnatural silence didn't bother Leah as much as it seemed like it should've; it was a nice change from the constant chatter she usually had to put up with.

"That's actually a nice reality check for me," she remarked, making another unpleasant face at the fresh kill Ghost carried between his jaws. "I hate that part. I might miss some of the other stuff--and pal, you better not go spreading that around--but definitely not all the culinary delights."

She scoffed softly at herself when she realized that she was now the one babbling on. "I don't know why I'm talking to you like you might answer back. This is probably the longest conversation I've head with someone that wasn't Jake, and that's gotta be a new low. No offense."

The rushing water sound that had caught Leah's attention in the first place grew louder. "You need a drink or something?" she asked, glancing back down at Ghost as they both nudged their way through some brush. "Or a bath? Dude, you should really just eat the damned thing already, they don't get tastier the longer they sit..."

Leah trailed off and looked up as their mutual path brought them to a large pool and a gorgeous cliff, complete with what had to be the falls Jacob had mentioned. The misting water broke the sunlight into a soft curve of a rainbow, and Leah couldn't help but sigh at how pretty it was. "All right, island," she murmured, wandering a little further towards in, folding her arms across her chest. "Maybe you get a few points for aesthetics."

When she glanced back down, she realized Ghost had trotted off without her. "Hey, where you going?" she asked, jogging a few steps to catch up.

Ghost had jogged the rest of the way down to the waterfall, dropping his game at the water's edge before jumping in and sending a wave crashing over Jon in the process.

"Did you absolutely have to do that?" he asked, not entirely quiet, and shook out his hair to get the worst of the water from it. He pushed it back off his face, seeing a woman standing there. A certain woman.

"Milady. What brings you out here?" Jon asked, smirking.

Leah had sort of expected the big guy's owner to be close by, she just hadn't expected him to be close by and nearly naked and wet. Clearly, this was her punishment for ever uttering the words 'island aesthetics.'

Almost immediately Leah folded her arms across her chest in a stiff and defensive posture, and found something off to the side and over Galahad's head to stare at. Not that she was avoiding looking. She didn't care. The guys in the pack ran around half naked all the time. No big deal.

"Why? Do I need membership to a special club to go for a damned walk?"

"No," Jon said, smiling a little. She always seemed to have the worst attitude, Leah, and he always found amusement in needling her just a bit. Perhaps he shouldn't, but Jon found his pleasures where he could.

"If you do need membership, I invite you to join."

"Thanks ever so much," Leah quipped sarcastically. She'e thought she might try out that cliff--her cliff diving skills were a little rusty, and she didn't want to give Jacob any ammunition to make fun of her--but that plan was out now. She wasn't going to make an ass of herself in front of Gallahad, either.

"I think your pal brought you lunch," she pointed out, and sat down a good distance away from the lump of dead something before she started untying her hiking boots. She figured it was at least safe to put her feet in the water.

Jon cast a bleary eye over to Ghost, who was amusing himself with his catch, before looking back to Leah and nodding once.

"It seems he has. Have you brought me a present as well or is Ghost in the lead for club membership this afternoon?"

Leah went from avoiding looking at him to scowling right at him, and briefly considered throwing her hiking boot at his head. She only refrained because then, well, lost boot, and she'd have to get back to her hut with one bare foot.

"I brought my pretty face and my sparkling wit," she shot back instead, and slid her feet carefully into the water.

"Which are both pretty and sparkling," Jon said, laughing even louder. "Though do be careful, you might have your face stick that way. At least, that's what Mikken told me when I was a boy."

When it looked like she was joining him in the water, he tried to school his face into something calmer. No sense in antagonizing the girl.

Not all of her was getting in the water, just her feet; though, as good as the water felt, she might change her mind. Maybe.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen her in even less than her underwear.

"The lies our parents tell us," she drawled, going back to avoiding the manly eye-candy and gazing up at the scenery instead, absent swirling the water with her feet. "My mom used to tell me and my brother that if we didn't behave, the Daskiya would scoop us up in her basket and take us home to for her dinner. Obviously that never happened either."

Though maybe there was a shred of truth to that little tale, given all the other legends that turned out to be real.

"I never had a mother," Jon said, though it wasn't as bitter as it might have been a few years ago. He'd mostly grown to be all right with his parentage, especially coupled with the knowledge that Robb had provided when he arrived on the island.

"So, as a result, I had to do stupid things and suffer for them. You were luckier."

He drew a little closer, wanting to be able to talk if she wasn't going to actually get in the water.

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."

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