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“Stick ‘em with the Pointy End.”
That was what Jon had told her. It was what she did.
“All men are made of water. Do you know this? If you pierce them, the water leaks out, and they die.”
That was what Syrio had told her. But that hadn’t been mere water leaking out of that stable boy. Water was clear; it didn’t have colour. It didn’t smell, unless it was dirtied by something else, and it certainly didn’t smell like metal. No, that was blood. Blood like when she would accidentally cut herself while practicing with daggers and short swords that she’d snuck out of the armoury or her older brothers’ rooms. But more. So much more.
She hadn’t even thought about it when she did it. All that had been running through her mind was that she’d wanted him away from her, that she had to run and hide until… until…
She didn’t know what she was going to do, what her next move would be. All she knew was that she wasn’t safe. She would never be safe in this shithole of a city.
Needle was shaking in front of her. She had left the tunnels and was now creeping through an alley, holding her sword out in front of her, but why was it shaking?
Oh. It was her hands. Her hands were shaking. She tried to stop, to take a deep breath. Fear cuts deeper than swords. She had to stop being afraid.
But they wouldn’t stop. So, she found a tiny, secluded nook to jam herself into, set her sword down (but where she could easily pick it up), and tried to control her breathing, clasping her hands together to try and stop the shaking.
Fear cuts deeper than swords.
She had to calm down. Calm as still water. That was what she had to be. Or she would end up dead. Just like Syrio. And Jory, Heward, Wyl, Hullen, Desmond, and maybe even Father…
No. No. She could not let herself believe Father was dead, not until she saw the body herself. Even if the very thought of seeing her father’s dead body made her hands shake harder and her stomach churn.
Fear cuts deeper than swords.
She had to stay calm. Calm as still water. If she stayed calm, she could think things through and find a way to save herself, and Father, and even Sansa, if she was still alive. She just had to be calm, and patient.
She took a deep breath, picked up Needle with hands that were still trembling, and set off to find a safer hiding place.