Her diagnosis seemed accurate judging by his past experiences with fractured ribs. It wasn't the first time Faustus had gotten crushed by a nearly immovable object, and it certainly wasn't going to be the last as long as he remained Head Auror. There was a pause as Faustus took her in: the blush on her cheeks and her averted eyes. For one horrible moment, his mind ran with his worries and he thought she might be concealing her true thoughts. After all, he hadn't been delicate when pushing her out of harm's way, and he'd met plenty a civilian who had not reacted well to an inevitable injury sustained in the process of preventing greater casualties. But those emotions usually contained anger, whereas Miss Skovgaard...was hard to read. Faustus was tempted to take it further but thought it best to leave it alone. He hardly knew her after all, and she didn't seem a deceptive woman. It was easy having worked in stealth and deception to search for it in others, but Faustus had to remind himself through this panic that Miss Skovgaard was hardly a suspect. So why was he so worried she thought the worst of him?
Her admission made his stomach drop - another reaction of his that left him perplexed - and Faustus drew his gaze towards her hand. That was when he realized her hand rested on his chest, her other in her lap. There were easily visible splinters of wood and glass embedded in her hands. Reaching out gently, Faustus looked up to her, checking her expression to make sure his actions weren't taken out of context, and he took her free hand in his, turning it over to get a better look. He was no healer, but there had been times when first aid had to be administered immediately and there was no time to wait for healers, so he wasn't completely ignorant to some small healing spells.
Gently, Faustus ran his thumb over some of the more extremely minor cuts on her palm, sealing them as best he could. He daren't touch any of the larger ones, or those with glass embedded in them. Not without his wand. He glanced around in search of his jacket, praying it hadn't been blown too far away in the chaos. The wind was still howling outside, blowing occasional gusts of wind into the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, a fluttering caught his attention, and he noticed his jacket had only been thrown to the other side of the room. Summoning it was easy enough, though it came to him in a rather haphazard fashion. Riffling through it, Faustus mercifully saw his wand tucked into the pocket of his jacket.
Thank Merlin it hadn't been blown away.
He looked to her now, searching her expression for what he was about to say. "I think we need to ascertain if your ankle can be bound." He said levelly, knowing what his words would mean for her. But there was absolutely no way they would be able to get back to the ballroom in time with his side and her potentially broken ankle. "Please...trust me."
Her admission made his stomach drop - another reaction of his that left him perplexed - and Faustus drew his gaze towards her hand. That was when he realized her hand rested on his chest, her other in her lap. There were easily visible splinters of wood and glass embedded in her hands. Reaching out gently, Faustus looked up to her, checking her expression to make sure his actions weren't taken out of context, and he took her free hand in his, turning it over to get a better look. He was no healer, but there had been times when first aid had to be administered immediately and there was no time to wait for healers, so he wasn't completely ignorant to some small healing spells.
Gently, Faustus ran his thumb over some of the more extremely minor cuts on her palm, sealing them as best he could. He daren't touch any of the larger ones, or those with glass embedded in them. Not without his wand. He glanced around in search of his jacket, praying it hadn't been blown too far away in the chaos. The wind was still howling outside, blowing occasional gusts of wind into the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, a fluttering caught his attention, and he noticed his jacket had only been thrown to the other side of the room. Summoning it was easy enough, though it came to him in a rather haphazard fashion. Riffling through it, Faustus mercifully saw his wand tucked into the pocket of his jacket.
Thank Merlin it hadn't been blown away.
He looked to her now, searching her expression for what he was about to say. "I think we need to ascertain if your ankle can be bound." He said levelly, knowing what his words would mean for her. But there was absolutely no way they would be able to get back to the ballroom in time with his side and her potentially broken ankle. "Please...trust me."