(no subject)
"Don't disappoint me now."
She'd watched it twice now, sitting in her room in Summerfell, legs crossed and frowning on the floor of her room. No one else was home. She'd made sure of that a few seconds after she'd started watching it the first time.
A different girl might have felt some hesitation about watching something so clearly from someone else's past, but Arya collected information the way other girls collected shoes. There was a fact for every occasion, you just had to have it to use it.
This one, though. This recording, she didn't know why it had come to her.
It was Seifer. Some kind of security footage from what looked like a prison, of Seifer questioning a captive.
No, not questioning. Tickling, although the man he had captive gave it its proper name. Torture.
She'd let herself write off the incident in Zuko's home as the heat of the moment. Fights, battles, they did something to people, and she'd convinced herself it was just that and he'd learned his lesson.
Stupid. Why did she always have to be so stupid? Because here he was, coldly, calmly doing what he'd prepared to do.
Is there gold hidden in the village?
She watched it a third time, and made up her mind. He hadn't found it. It had been in her room, in her home. It was for her. It was meant for her. It was a message. She'd often wondered, in the time since leaving the House of Black and White -- and even when she had been there -- how they'd known who to give the gift of the Many-Faced God to. What a sign looked like.
She didn't think it got much clearer than this. She'd been given this knowledge to act on it, and act she would. She'd waited, wondered, struggled with what she was meant to do long enough. She'd do this.
She strapped on her swords. Not because she intended to use them -- she'd prepared something else, for that -- but because she always wore them. If she didn't, this time, it would seem suspicious.
Then she saddled Jaqen and rode for Seifer's hut. Valar dohaeris.
She'd watched it twice now, sitting in her room in Summerfell, legs crossed and frowning on the floor of her room. No one else was home. She'd made sure of that a few seconds after she'd started watching it the first time.
A different girl might have felt some hesitation about watching something so clearly from someone else's past, but Arya collected information the way other girls collected shoes. There was a fact for every occasion, you just had to have it to use it.
This one, though. This recording, she didn't know why it had come to her.
It was Seifer. Some kind of security footage from what looked like a prison, of Seifer questioning a captive.
No, not questioning. Tickling, although the man he had captive gave it its proper name. Torture.
She'd let herself write off the incident in Zuko's home as the heat of the moment. Fights, battles, they did something to people, and she'd convinced herself it was just that and he'd learned his lesson.
Stupid. Why did she always have to be so stupid? Because here he was, coldly, calmly doing what he'd prepared to do.
Is there gold hidden in the village?
She watched it a third time, and made up her mind. He hadn't found it. It had been in her room, in her home. It was for her. It was meant for her. It was a message. She'd often wondered, in the time since leaving the House of Black and White -- and even when she had been there -- how they'd known who to give the gift of the Many-Faced God to. What a sign looked like.
She didn't think it got much clearer than this. She'd been given this knowledge to act on it, and act she would. She'd waited, wondered, struggled with what she was meant to do long enough. She'd do this.
She strapped on her swords. Not because she intended to use them -- she'd prepared something else, for that -- but because she always wore them. If she didn't, this time, it would seem suspicious.
Then she saddled Jaqen and rode for Seifer's hut. Valar dohaeris.