The day was a memorable one for more than one reason- some of those reasons better than others. Jaqen had given her the small vial of poisoned water, and her first name to gift the Many Faced God. She'd been so excited when he'd handed it to her that she was barely able to keep her face collected until she'd turned away from him. Her mind was already racing different ways she could slip the poison to the Thin Man- She could pour it directly on his oysters when he asked for them, or she could mix it in with the vanilla that she knew he preferred to eat them with. She could do so in the whole bottle of the flavor, or have a second one on the cart that was poisoned just for him. Each of the methods had pros and cons, and she turned them all over, and over again.

It was much too early to leave for the docks, and so she made her way back to her little room and forced herself to lay down on the cool stone bed covered with a thin blanket. She'd become accustomed to the bed easily enough upon being granted it, having spent the last several years sleeping everywhere from rocky ground, to muddy pits, to wood planks, and even up the occasional tree here and there. She could hardly even remember what it felt like to sleep on a feather bed, and so she normally had no trouble falling asleep on her narrow stone platform when it came time.

That night, though, she just couldn't find a comfortable to position and found herself more restless than she'd been since before the first time she'd knocked on the large, intricate, doors of the temple. She forced herself to lay there for several hours anyway, before finally giving up and rising when it was still dark beyond the walls of the Temple.

She found herself back in the Hall of Statues, moving slowly from one face to the next. What she was looking for, she couldn't have said, but she found some peace in the action regardless. She suddenly had the sensation of another presence joining her in the room, but she wasn't certain until he spoke from directly behind her shoulder.

"A girl should be resting." He said, voice low enough that it didn't even disturb the otherwise silent room.

"A girl can not find rest." She replied, just as softly, voice lacking the gravely undertones his seemed to be built upon. She looked over at him as he stepped up to stand directly beside her, only to see him already watching her with his thoughtful eyes.

Part of her expected him to probe further, or impart some random bit of wisdom about finding piece upon her, but he didn't. Instead, he looked casually away from her and began speaking of the statue they stood before- one that was shaped into the head of a fearsome looking goat, it's horns long and thick as they curled from its skull. "Farther to the east from here, there is a place called Qohor. There, the Many Faced God is worshiped by the people as the Black Goat God. The people of Qohor offer The Black Goat blood sacrifices daily to keep him appeased- criminals and condemned men, usually. Sometimes, during times of war or great strife, the Nobles offer up their own children to beg his protection."

Arya stood quietly for a long moment, thinking over the story he told. "Does He answer their pleas?" She asked finally, voice neutral.

"Well, the city still stands." His voice was dryly sarcastic, a note of twisted amusement audible to her ears. She glanced over at him again, waiting for him to continue, knowing he would have more to say. "Men find their faith in all manner of things." He explained. "Some of these things are actually He of Many Faces, some are not. How is any man to tell which is which? Alas, any normal man cannot." He shrugged almost carelessly. "So, when good things happen, men thank the gods. If they made a gesture to try and appeal to their god, and then that wish comes true, they will appeal to him in the same way the next time. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. It becomes tradition all the same." He shrugged again, incrementally.

"What about you?" Arya asked before she could censor herself, not really wanting to censor herself and curious if he'd answer. He raised a brow at her and remained silently, not rejecting the question but waiting for her to elaborate. "Where are you from? What God did you warship before you came here?"

He shook his head immediately, though it hardly moved at all. "A girl is still thinking about everything wrong. A man is no one, how can no one be from anywhere?" He pressed, almost frowning down at her.

"Before a man was no one." She corrected herself, dipping her head apologetically.

He studied her for a second longer before he answered. "A man was born in Lorath." He did not elaborate further, and she resigned herself to being content with that small bit of information.

"I thought you'd lied when you told me that." She said, referencing their first meeting rather than asking further questions.

"What is the best lie?"

She smiled slightly. "One that is built on truths."

"Just so." He agreed, dipping his head.

She turned away from the statue to face him fully, dark eyes glittering brightly in the candle lit chamber, though she didn't know it. "Shouldn't a man be resting?" She questioned, voice teasing back to his initial greeting to her that night.

His lip quirked. "A man can not find rest." He replied easily, tone changed somehow. He'd been sounding like that more and more over the last couple of weeks, had been watching her more intently than ever before. It made a heat settle in her stomach, one she'd only ever gotten when she would watch Gendry working in the forge back in Harrenhal, but this one was altogether more intense.

She'd never really been interested in men before, not beyond the idle curiosity she'd felt since taking refuge near a brothel when she'd first escaped King's Landing proper. She spent much of her time bunkered down, afraid she'd been recognized and discovered if she spent too much time out in the open. As such, she'd born witness to one of the prostitutes pleasuring one of the city guard. At the time, she hadn't understood why anyone would want to partake is such an activity, it is appearing uncomfortable and almost philistine to the young girl. So, while she'd never actually been interested in trying it herself, she did have a kind of clinical curiosity about how it all worked.

When she'd been a girl in Winterfell, her mother and her Septon used to tell her that one day she would be married to a great Lord and bear him sons and daughters to carry on his family legacy. She would always respond that she didn't want to marry a lord or give him sons, that she wanted to be a Knight. They'd often laugh at such thoughts, but she'd be told in no uncertain terms that she would be married one day, and she would give her husband children. They said it was her duty as a Stark lady, and would remind her that family and duty were both in one of their family mottos. They'd try and reassure her that she would change her mind when she got older, that she'd grow to want children. She knew they were wrong, even then, but her family had all died before they could talk of her marriage in truth, and so she never got to see how it would have played out.

As a girl, she thought a woman's duty was to provide her husband with children and care for his household. When she'd gotten older, she realized that sex itself was something sought after, out of the marriage bed as much (or even more so) than in it. Sex was another means of manipulation, she learned from watching the working girls earn their coin. She saw how the best of them could manipulate a man, rob him and still leave him wanting her to do it to him again.

Still, beyond thinking that Gendry was nice looking, she hadn't given much thought to actually sharing her bed with another, though such a thing was common and accepted in Essos in a way that it never would be in Westeros. Even knowing the acolytes often shared each other's' beds, she'd never felt an interest, always more concerned with how a man died than how he found pleasure.

Now though, standing before this man and reading what she realized was desire in his carefully shuttered eyes, she knew she wanted it, wanted him. He'd already torn her down to her weakest point and built her back up again, piece by piece, so of course it should be him. His essence was woven into her very being. While he may have made her into 'No One,' without him she'd be nothing. She recognized that, understood and accepted it. She truly owed herself to him, though it wasn't why she wanted this.

She stepped slightly closer, his head bowing the slightest bit to follow her shorter frame approach him from her already small distance away. She came to stand directly before him, having to tilt her head up to keep eye contact. He didn't more to put more distance between, or step closer himself, but rather watched her with a cocked head, content to wait for her next move.

"Perhaps we can find rest together." She finally said, peering up at him and observing his reaction.

A brow raised and his lip curled, interest intensifying briefly across his face. "Does a girl know what she is offering?" He questioned, voice somehow even more hoarse than normal.

"Probably not." She admitted freely, knowing he'd catch her in a lie easily. She could fake confidence from her own observations, but had never been so close to another and had no idea what to truly expect, or how she'd feel about it when it happened. "But I'm offering it anyway." Her hand rose, but stopped to hover just over the robes of his chest. She was nervous, she realized, her heart pounding beneath her breast. She attempted to hide it, carefully controlling her face and making sure to count her breaths so that they didn't give her away.

Her eyes had dropped, but they rose again when he didn't immediately respond. When their eyes locked this time, something had shifted. His normally cool eyes were alight and he focused on her in a way he never had before. It made her feel tingly and on edge, almost breathless in her anticipation of his response.

His own hand rose and be brushed gently across her cheek bone. She could feel the rough drag of callouses built over countless hours of weapons play, and felt the light touch spark across her nerves like lightening. She felt a jolt of dismay when he pulled fully away, but it disappeared quickly when he shot her a look that was very familiar to her- the one that clearly said she was expected to follow. She did so eagerly, and they moved through the dark hallways together silent as ghosts.

His own room, it turned out, was slightly bigger than her own and just as spartan in decoration, though he had more random items placed around the space. He paused at the door when they entered, not moving further into the room. She turned back to face him and couldn't help but run her eyes down the length of him, remembering what his frame looked like in better fitting clothes.

He didn't insult her by asking her if she was sure, but he did hold the door open for a long moment, head cocked and clearly offering her an out if she had changed her mind. When she didn't move, his lips curled into a pleased smirk and he pushed the door shut softly.

He moved towards her like a predator then, all graceful movement and piercing eyes. When he reached her, he caught gentle hold of her arms and pressed her backwards until she collided gently with the rough stone wall. His head cocked again as he studied her, and she met his gaze freely, letting him find whatever it was he was looking for in her. "Lovely girl," He murmured then, and she realized with a small start that he hadn't called her that for a long time- it was only ever 'a girl' during her training. She felt stupidly pleased to hear the endearment once again, but didn't have time to think on it more as his rough hands caught a hold of her face and drew her into her first proper kiss.

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, so she followed his lead tentatively, trusting him to lead her true. She must have been doing ok, because he let out the tinniest breathy sigh through his nose as he pressed closer to her, tongue moving more boldly on her lips and within her mouth.

Her hands came up and rested cautiously against his chest, feeling firm muscles beneath the bulky, unflattering, grey robes. His left hand remained cupped around the side of her neck and jawline, but his right dropped down to curl around her ribcage. She startled slightly at the motion, the small touch jolting through her and making her core throb in a way it never had before. She was so on edge, she didn't know what she was waiting for but every inch of her was alight and wanting.

He was so much taller than her, she thought with slight frustration. She ran her hands up from where they still rested on his chest until they wrapped around his neck. He ducked farther down to accommodate her, and she used his position to hop up and wrap her lithe legs around her waist. It put them at equal height, and she smiled in satisfaction. His left arm dropped down to curl under her bottom, supporting her easily against the wall, and she felt a gush of liquid wet between her thighs when he pressed against her.

Still holding her, he turned and made his way slowly across the room, keeping their lips together all the while. It was a short journey to his bed, and he gripped her thigh to get her to release him and drop back to her feet. Once she was standing again, he grasped the bottom of her own black robes and lifted the over her head in one sudden motion so that she stood in just her small cloths. He tossed it carelessly over the small stone desk beside the bed and then reached for the now bare flesh of her waist once again.

She felt terribly exposed at first, flesh prickling and her nipples hardening into firm little nubs in the coolness of the room. He didn't leave her standing there for too long though, and soon had her pulled back against him. The spark that jolted though the erect buds when she pressed back against his chest was a mix of painful pleasure and she couldn't decide quite how she felt about it.

Still, excitement burned through her and she didn't allow her nerves to show. Instead, she reached out to loosen his own robes and push them free of his toned shoulders. He caught them before they could fall to the floor, shooting her a reproachful look as he tossed them behind himself to land with hers on the desk, rather than the floor.

Amusement flared in her and she shot him an unrepentant look in return. He shook his head at her the slightest bit and then ducked down to her once more. This time, he bypassed her lips and pressed his own to the sensitive flesh of her neck. He encouraged her back onto the bed, following her closely when she did so.

Once she was firmly on her back, Jaqen began exploring the bared flesh before him. He nibbled sharply at the flesh that joined her neck and shoulder and then worked his way down with a series of always random kisses, bites, sucks and nibbles, so that she never knew what to expect with his next movement.

She felt shy and bold all at once, desire helping to shake away the lingering discomfort of being bare before him in such an intimate way. She wasn't sure what to do with her hands, but when his lips and teeth latched on to her left nipple, she jolted up with a bit off groan, hands coming up to clutch at his head when he refused to relent.

His tongue moved to rub harshly against the bud caught between his sharp teeth, darting back and forth over it so quickly that she wasn't sure how she was meant to deal with the overwhelming sensation. His hand came up to trace gently across the flesh of her right breast, the small mound quivering with the contrasting sensations as he allowed one fingertip to drag just over the tip of her exposed nipple.

He finally pulled free and she glanced down to see the area where his mouth had been looking foreign upon her chest, all swollen and blood filled, angry red under a glistening layer of saliva making it even more sensitive to the coolness in the room.

He switched sides then, and the pleasurable torture began all over again. This time, instead of light, teasing touches over her opposite, exposed bud, he drew a heavy, calloused finger tip over the still aching flesh, causing the shocks to begin anew with every rough motion. She let out a quite moan despite her best efforts, but it only seemed to encourage him more.

She was soaking wet by this point, feeling her small clothes cling to her dampness. Her skin was on fire when he pulled away again and began moving lower and lower still, down her flat stomach, teasing at her belly button and then moving lower still.

His hands moved to the loose cloth to drag it down her legs, each brush against her flesh causing another little spark of pleasure, as well as goosepimples to form on her skin. When his hands ran deliberately over the juncture between her legs and pelvis, she bit her lip and let her head drop back to the hard bed, unable to keep watching the alluring sight.

She felt like she should do something, reciprocate in some way, but she was so overwhelmed that alls she could do was lie there and try not to drown in the sensations. His hands ran further down the seam of her thighs, dipping between them and drawing them apart. She allowed the motion easily, and he settled between her legs whilst sucking a small bruise into the flesh over her protruding hipbone.

When his mouth met the core of her only a couple of moments later, she couldn't help but curl up and around his head, unsure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer. It all felt so good that she almost didn't feel a finger teasing around her entrance. The first entry was quick and temporary, him dipping in and pulling right back out. She was so wet that the digit slid right in, despite the tightness of her previously unexplored channel.

She was going to burst, she could feel it. Her hands dug into his long hair as he suctioned around her pleasure point and mimicked the same motion with his tongue that he'd used on her nipples. She gasped out his name, breathless and beyond caring, when she fell into the edge of oblivion. The force of it racked through her, muscles contracting and releasing over and over as he refused to pull away immediately.

When he did pull back his lips were glistening and he looked incredibly pleased with himself for a man who was known for his stoicism in a house built upon quiet endurance. His fingers were still inside her, she realized when she came back to herself. They weren't rubbing on that too sensitive spot any longer, but he was definitely teasing and toying with her body all the same.

She almost whimpered when he pulled them free and then pressed them back inside immediately after, but she held it back by the skin of her teeth. She bit her lip again, it feeling swollen and sore already. "Mmmm, Lovely Girl." He rumbled softly, stroking her stomach with his free hand.

"Jaqen…" She whispered in return, feeling completely at his mercy and still wanting more.

He dragged his fingers free slowly, rubbing his knuckles over her spot and causing her to huff out a breath of surprise with the motion, core clenching without conscious thought as another jolt of pleasure shot out from the swollen and sensitive nub. He crawled back up her body as slowly as he'd gone down it, but was more gentle with her still stinging flesh. By the time he once again reached her lips, she felt on edge and needy once again.

She'd never expected that it could feel this way, that she'd want to so bad she was nearly ready to beg for it. When she finally felt the silken steel of him press against her slick entrance, her eyes closed with the sheer relief of knowing she was finally going to get what her body was begging for, even if she didn't know exactly what that entailed.

The blunt width of it felt wider than her body could handle, but she told herself that women give birth to babes, and they were much larger than a cock. He was still taking his time, barely dipping in and really just pressing against her with the head of him. He rubbed back and forth and up and down. Every few seconds his cock would 'slip' further up and rub heavily against her nub. He was teasing her, she could tell, so the next time his head caught on her entrance, she used the legs still wrapped around his waist to pull him forward sharply.

He sunk several inches into her with the motion, and she let out a breathless gasp as he speared her open for the first time. It hurt, arbitrarily, but was nothing compared to the pain she'd already faced thus far, and so was hardly noticed when compared with the accompanying surge of pleasure it brought.

Jaqen took back control from there, pulling back and pressing in again slowly. He picked up speed steadily, shifting to change his angle and tweak at her nipple with the same movement. She clenched down on him again, and saw his jaw twitch slightly with the motion. She repeated the gesture, both because it served to intensify the sensation of having him in her, but also because she liked seeing the small little signs that this was affecting him as much as it was her- that he was gaining pleasure from it too.

He grabbed a hold of her leg then, hand wrapping nearly all the way around it and moving it as he pleased. She felt a small surge of annoyance at the forceful motion at first, but the deepened sensation that followed quickly forced her to let go of the ire and get lost once again in the haze of building heat. She was fully open and exposed to him, but she felt no shame or regret in her actions as he looked up and locked eyes with him once more.

He was completely focused on her, eyes rapt upon her face and watching every minute shift in her expression. It was obvious that he was reading her, and using her tells to bring her the most pleasure by easily recognizing which movements she liked more than others, and which ones she didn't like at all. And truly, she though with an almost mindless amusement, their trade practically trained them to be good lovers, easily picking up on the smallest nuisances of their target and applying that knowledge to receive the outcome they desired.

He had her right leg lifted up and over his left arm, pinning her in place as he drove towards both their completions. His right hand ran roughly down her chest, tweaking her peaked nipple on the way and then moving to thumb at that sweet, sweet spot between her legs. She couldn't help but gasp out his name once more before her body seized and she convulsed on his cock that seemed to swell even larger within her tender channel.

His hips stuttered slightly and he bowed over her slighter body. Her back arched slightly at the sensation, skin scrapping slightly on the stone where the blanket had been tugged away, but she didn't pay it any mind as she focused on the sensation of him releasing within her. She felt a primal satisfaction fill her and felt languish and pleasantly sore as she stretched out her toes where her legs were still loosely crossed around his back.

She wondered if she were supposed to feel awkward at this point, but she didn't. This had felt as natural with him as training, and was altogether more pleasant than the lying game. He pulled free of her and rose to stand beside the bed. He grabbed a small cloth and cleaned himself off before offering it to her. She pressed it between her legs carefully, whipping up the gooeyness left behind on the tender, swollen flesh of her. When she pulled it away, she saw that it was pink tinged and felt another strange jolt of satisfaction.

Jaqen sat down on the end of the bed, back propped up against the wall. He remained bare, uncaring with his state and so Arya didn't allow herself to become flustered either, despite the fact that she was still spread nude across his bed.

She lay there for another minute before pulling herself up to settle against the wall beside him. He didn't say anything, content to sit in silence or wait for her to speak. He did that a lot, remained quiet while she turned things over in her head. He always allowed her to make her own observations and conclusions. Sometimes she was right, sometimes she needed correcting, but he always allowed her to reach that point on her own before correcting her.

"Thank you." She said finally, voice quiet. He glanced over at her, brow arched, but did not respond. "I'd heard it often isn't pleasant for the woman during sex." She offered then, voice almost conversational.

"There are two sides to every coin." He began, voice taking on his familiar lecturing tone. "Life and Death, Black and White, Darkness and Light, Pain and Pleasure- You cannot have a coin with only one face, or it wouldn't be a coin at all. By accepting the coin, you are accepting both sides equally. Often, the sides feel unbalanced and people become bitter for it. In truth, it is up to you how you use that coin. You are used to pain, it has been what you've known best for years. It is up to you if you want to experience pleasure alongside that pain." He suddenly had a coin in his hand, though she wasn't sure where it came from. He tossed it suddenly in the air and watched as it twirled and spun before it landed back on the bed. He continued, "Sometimes, the God tosses a coin, and we have to deal with what comes. And sometimes," He tossed the coin again, but more deliberately than before. The second time, he caught the coin, somehow managing to balance it on its edge in his palm. "we can control how the coin falls. Do you understand?"

And she did. It resonated with her, echoing over all the moments in her life that had been out of her control. She'd had to endure a lot over the past years, knew there'd be more yet to come that she'd have to endure, but that didn't mean that endurance and suffering had to be her entire life. She could find pleasure amidst the pain, if she chose to do so.

She moved suddenly, swinging around to straddle his bare waist. "I understand." She said, voice almost impish. He didn't move, looking up at her with the edge of amusement that was one of her favorite expressions on him (though any normal person likely wouldn't see the variation amongst his countenance). His eyes looked away from her a second later, over at the wall closest to the outside of the temple. She heard it than too, the early call of the gulls taking flight over the bay.

Nervous excitement filled her once again, having almost forgotten the mission she was undertaking that very morning. When he looked back at her, he took in the ticks in her expression that she was trying to mask and he looked almost fond. "Go now." He said lightly. "A lovely girl has work to do."

~*~ END ~*~