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[whichend]

[ Arya has practiced for this. The camera does not shake; she does not blink. She can give off no impression of weakness, of youth. What she is asking is not child's play. ]

As I am sure you already know, the gods of this city are seeking offerings. I shall be making an offering to the one who calls himself Fear. Those who give him an offering shall receive a blessing, should he deem it sufficient.

I have an offering. But I shall need some assistance in delivering it. If you are interested, please contact me.

[ She does not give a name. Her face, she figures, is enough. ]

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[whichend]

It may.

[ She's trying to be reassuring, but really, she probably sounds more ominous. Gentle words were never her strong suit. ]

But that does not matter. I'm no one. I can become who I like, and still be just a girl.

[ She isn't Nymeria any more than she will be the woman who's face she assumes. ]

[unknowable]

[Adam's never much needed reassurance. Truth is more helpful, in his experience. He thinks that over.]

It's your life to live, and your face to change. So long as you're doing it of your own free will, I'll help you.

[whichend]

Thank you.

I will meet you at Fear's altar at midnight. [ She gives him the tiniest, wry smile. ] Be very afraid.

[unknowable]

[If he were a more paternal person, maybe, he would try to stop her. But Adam believes in letting people choose their own fates, make their own mistakes, and clean up their own messes. If it's his help she wants, he'll give it, and do what he can to make it a bit less dangerous, if possible.]

I'll be there. [He smiles, just a touch.] That shouldn't be a problem.