He had dropped his sword and drawn his dagger on pure muscle memory, more of a testament to those he learned from than himself. But it seemed he needn't, because his companion burst into action and ended the threat before it began. He might have been the one to save her earlier, but that move was a work of art in his opinion. He sheathed his dagger as she caught her breath, though his eyes were still on her for a few moments. At least until she grinned at him and he realized he was staring. 

"Huh? Oh yeah." he said, smiling at himself as much as her. He reached up and felt the wet blood on his cheek. He'd almost forgotten he'd been cut. "Yes, please." He breathed, pulling himself a chair and taking a seat. 

As she went to work he looked at thew Draugr corpses. He now could appreciate what they'd just accomplished, and he couldn't help but grin as well like she had moments ago. It was nothing out of the tales, but it was a battle with the undead. And they had aided distraught villagers. More than anything that was what was important, he reminded himself. As her fingers brushed his cut, he looked away and to his credit, didn't grimace. He knew she'd probably need him to remain still. 

As the sounds of battle had faded, they heard a knock on the wall and a muted voice from outside. 

"Oi, you lot still alive or wot!?"