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The door creaked loudly as Jon stepped into the armoury. His hands gripped the tunic he was carrying tightly, using it to safeguard them from the harsh winds outside. His eyes were still fixed on the ground.

"Hey."

Jon's gaze shot upwards at the voice.

"Hey," he replied, closing the door behind him. Elle sat on a table at the other side of the room, some fabric in her lap. "What are you doing here?"

She lifted the piece of cloth. Jon spotted a needle in her left hand.

"Oh."

"Did you assume that all I am doing here is walk along the Wall at night?"

Admittedly, Jon hadn't thought about it that much. He had assumed that, as a woman, she would keep away from the men at Castle Black. Hadn't she hinted at something like this a few nights ago?

"I did, kind of." He stepped further into the room. "You're helping out, too?"

"I am helping out wherever I'm needed," she replied, returning to her needlework. "In this case, it probably helps that I am one of the only people in this castle that knows how to sew." She chuckled, and Jon shared her smile.

Then her eyebrows knitted together. "What did you mean by 'too'? Do not tell me you help with the clothes."

Jon was sure a small blush spread on his cheeks, especially after noticing her mischievous grin.

"No! No, definitely not." He cleared his throat. "I help with the weapons, the armour and stuff. I don't know the last thing about sewing clothes."

"Well, neither do I. At least, not anymore. But my father thought it necessary for me to be able to mend my own clothes. I guess it did come in handy. Speaking of-" Elle's gaze shifted downwards, to the tunic in his hands. With a short jerk of her chin she said, "Do you need that fixed?"

Jon looked down, briefly gripping the fabric tighter. "Uh, yeah. It ripped during training."

"I am not surprised." Elle still continued with her sewing. "The quality of the clothes here is atrocious." A short pause, then she tapped the desk she was sitting on. "You can put the tunic down here, I will fix it right after this one."

Jon followed her command. Then he stood next to her for a few silent minutes, watching her work.

"Do you know where Donal is?" he finally asked.

Elle shrugged. "No. He left a while ago, I do not know when he will be back."

She put the needle on a plate next to her, tied a knot in the thread, and cut the excess off with a dagger.

Jon blinked once. He had completely missed the dagger lying next to her.

He averted his eyes, not wanting his embarrassment to be seen by Elle. Who knew a simple wooden wall could be so interesting?

"Do you want me to teach you how to sew?"

Jon turned back to Elle. Slowly, to collect his thoughts. Her smile was pleasant, encouraging, and something about it made him want to step closer.

"I don't know," he answered. "I'd probably be worse at it than my sister."

"You can at least give it a try, mending clothes is not as difficult as it might look. Besides, do you really want to stand around aimlessly waiting for Donal?" She had raised her eyebrows, almost in a challenge.

Jon let out an audible breath, yet had to smile regardless.

"Fine. Teach me then."

Elle smiled in triumph. She jumped off the table and pulled out two chairs, placing them opposite each other, falling down on one of them. Jon sat down on the other.

"We are going to use your tunic for this, so that if something goes wrong, it will be your problem."

She shifted forward on her chair and laid the tunic down on her legs. Jon could feel his knees barely touching hers. He drew them back.

"Before we begin properly, we will measure our yarn." Jon tried to follow her hands."And tie a small knot."

She started sewing while Jon watched her. Her hands worked quickly, every stitch placed expertly next to the last, needle held gently between her fingers. He didn't know why he suddenly felt the need to interlace his fingers with hers, but he truly did not like it.

"Now you try."

"What?"

Elle held out the needle to him. "To learn something you have to try it for yourself."

Jon felt uncomfortable taking the needle in his hand, making sure not to touch Elle's fingers. Thankfully, she misinterpreted his discomfort.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," she said. "I only meant to bridge the time."

"No. I mean yes. I mean-" Jon pulled the tunic into his lap. "I'm sorry. It's not that. I would love for you to teach me."

She smiled again (thankfully). "Well then."

Jon lowered his gaze to the work before him, the soft smile not leaving his face, no matter how hard he tried. So instead he tried to focus on the needle going in and out of the fabric.

The movements came surprisingly easy to him. Even though the stitches looked - very - crooked, he felt like he got the hang of it quickly.

"Very good." Jon glanced up at Elle for a moment. She was leaning towards him, arms placed on her knees, some strands of her hair falling into her face as she looked down at his hands. "Just make sure you try to put the stitches closer together."

Jon nodded. Did Elle not realise how close they were? And how inappropriate that was?

As he finished up, Elle gently took the tunic and needle from him.

"At the end, you'll need to tie a knot and cut the excess yarn. But because the knot is a bit difficult to make, you can just watch me this time," she narrated her movements.

Jon got a better look at her dagger this time around. It was small, most likely small enough to be hidden in a boot. Its handle was a golden snake with red gemstones for its eyes.

"My father gave it to me." Elle had apparently noticed his interest. "Back when I first came to him."

"Where did you live before?"

"Braavos. Though I do not remember much of it." She handed him his tunic back. "Here. All finished."

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me," she said with a smile. "You did most of the work anyway."

Jon wanted to respond when the door jammed open. He shot up from his chair, as Donal entered the room, accompanied by a heavy burst of wind. Elle merely turned her head towards the man.

Jon felt the urge to explain what had been happening between him and Elle, that they had been merely talking, that her teaching him how to sew was nothing of importance. But before he could say any of that, Donal already started talking.

"Apologies for keeping you waiting, Jon," he said as he closed the door behind him. "I was speaking to the Lord Commander. Which-" he turned to Elle- "Mormont wants to see you."

"Did he say why?" She rose from her chair.

"He wants to talk about your ranging again."

Elle grimaced ever so slightly, leaving out a sigh. "I have already told him everything."

Donal just shrugged as he walked towards his forge in the back of the room.

Elle shook her head as she pulled up her right sleeve, revealing a leather sheath strapped to her arm. She sheathed her dagger and pulled down the fabric, hiding it away.

(Jon did not want to think about how easily Elle had had access to a weapon the entire time he had been talking to her.)

"I will see you around," she said with a smile before leaving the room. Jon mirrored her smile.

He turned around towards Donal, expecting some sort of reprimand for talking to Elle.

(For being so close to her, for thinking about her that way...)

But Donal didn't say anything. He didn't even pay proper attention to Jon, simply preparing the forge.

"Uhm, are you not going to say anything about this? About me talking to Elle?" Jon asked.

Donal looked up with a raised eyebrow.

"I am sure you know what is good for you and what isn't. And I am also sure you know not to break your vows."

Yes, Jon thought. He did know that.

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