fearcutsdeeperthanswords | ❈ | 025

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❈ | 025 | Voice

[Private to Arthur]

Stop yelling at the people teaching me. I asked them to.

[Private to Rumpelstiltskin]

[She's been torn over saying anything to him, because he kind of went to bat for her, but she thinks he did it all wrong.]

I'm not a baby, you know.

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[Arthur's gaze flicks towards the wolf for a moment, before looking back at her. He takes a few steps forward, when she retreats.]

I would never deliberately hurt you. Would you hurt Nymeria if someone asked you to and called it a part of your 'training'? Or me? Or Jesse?

[She's already hurt Nymeria, and that memory makes her lean harder against the wolf, scowling up at Arthur.]

If I knew it would make you better.

[His expression turns almost pitying, as she sharply reminds him of Morgana in that moment. Not that Morgana's ever done this specifically, but in that she's stubbornly refusing to see sense.]

What's in your heart, the love you have for someone else, is more important than any power you wield. Without it, the power is meaningless. You'd be no better than the people that killed your family.

If you can't see that, then you can't be trusted with the responsibility of your weapons and caring for your wolf. [He steps forward again, this time intending to take the sword from her hand.]

[She jerks back at that, and Nymeria moves forward again, teeth bared, growl filling the room. Arya doesn't try to pull her back this time, thrown off kilter. That she could be anything like the Lannisters is both horrifying and gratifying - they were the ones who survived. She'd survive.

But not without Needle. Not without Nymeria.]

Love doesn't save people! [But she's afraid now, that she can't fight properly with her right hand, and Merlin has magic, and she doesn't know what to do.]

[Merlin glances cautiously at Nymeria but doesn't make eye contact with the wolf, looking to Arya instead. And he knows all this is Arthur's to say but he says it anyway.]

No. It makes people worth saving. How do you think this is going to end? If the promise of strength is enough for you to not care that you might lose the use of your hands, how much further will you permit that to go? How much more would you risk? Nobody is asking you to stop training but strength is not the willingness to throw yourself away in its pursuit.

[Wasn't it, though? Throwing herself away is what she'd been doing since she walked into the House of Black and White - only they wouldn't let her do that here. They wouldn't let her become someone who could change her face.

But they let her do other things, other training. Was she no one, clinging to Braavos and all it could teach her, if she ever made it back - or was she someone else? The girl who'd traveled through the riverlands had changed for every situation she encountered.]

I'll stop. Nymeria, [the last was muttered, as she stuck her sword back in her belt, and tugged the direwolf back again. Her eyes shifted back to Arthur.]

If you'll talk to her. She didn't ruin her hands. Ask how.

I'll speak with her. [He doesn't promise any more than that, because from what he gathered from their earlier conversation, was that Beatrix was simply lucky that her hands weren't crippled.

She said she'd stop and he's willing to give her a chance to prove he can still trust her.]

Will you let Merlin look at your hands now?

[She hesitates again; if Arthur talks to Beatrix and, as far as Arya's concerned, sees sense, she'll have to break them all over again, and it had hurt, so much more than she'd expected it to. But it still hurt, and she wasn't allowed to do anything about it now.

So, reluctantly, she sticks out her left hand toward Merlin, still bandaged and bruised and a little bloody.]

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