He leans his forehead against hers -- it's gentle, especially compared to the red-hot surge of NOPE anger at the thought of the Gamemakers harming Arwen. The hand at the back of her neck buries itself in her hair. In his head, he knows it's possible, but in his heart, he's ready to do anything to prevent it.
"A balance can be struck," he whispers, hoping that the devices they use to listen are not strong enough to catch his words, "that allows one to keep one's honor without bringing down the ire of our captors. Patience, Arwen," he murmurs quieter still, eyes closed. "A death in the Arena is a curable injury. Time, for once, is on our side." He knows he doesn't have to tell her to be patient -- she is wise, wiser than he in many ways, and she will know that he has not been idle here.
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NOPEanger at the thought of the Gamemakers harming Arwen. The hand at the back of her neck buries itself in her hair. In his head, he knows it's possible, but in his heart, he's ready to do anything to prevent it."A balance can be struck," he whispers, hoping that the devices they use to listen are not strong enough to catch his words, "that allows one to keep one's honor without bringing down the ire of our captors. Patience, Arwen," he murmurs quieter still, eyes closed. "A death in the Arena is a curable injury. Time, for once, is on our side." He knows he doesn't have to tell her to be patient -- she is wise, wiser than he in many ways, and she will know that he has not been idle here.