Cries rang in the streets imparting assurance the diversion was in progress. What now remained rested upon the faceless man's skill. Jaqen moved away from the wall without urgency despite the turbulent rush of adrenalin's demand. He lowered his head, the cowl of his cloak falling forward to more fully conceal the masked face beneath its obsidian safeguard. Booted footfalls made no sound as he stealthed through the dimly lit corridors. Torchlight slithered maliciously over his shoulders with insidious intent to expose his purpose. Guards lined his path, each one seemingly more capable than the next, each larger and armed with greater steel the deeper his trek took him toward where the prisoner was held. He walked past them without a single swirl of his robes, his entire will focused upon projection of effect that his presence there was simply customary. No heads turned to acknowledge him, but one older soldier stopped peering into his thoughts, raising a brow in unspoken query at the indistinct; of fleeting shadows."The further Jaqen advanced the more fetid the air became. Chills writhed down his spine at the abhorrent onslaught of death's putrid stench. The agonized wails of villainy's aftermath echoed against hope that refused their reply. Rather than try to avoid enmeshment he allowed the horror to consume him, inhaling deeply of its barbarism and directing his essence toward melding reception. Awareness. Becoming one with his enemy, enjoining his soul to those they brought suffering, his gaze fell upon the single source of separation between himself and his goal. Although he'd never before laid eyes on the man, his familial resemblance was unmistakable. Flames leapt up in memory as he closed his palm over the steel in his grasp. When he was finished here he would seek"Arya Starrk". They had unfinished business ...
She had walked long into the night, escaped by a Jaqens hand. She had done as he told her to and she and her friends had escaped unnoticed under the cover of darkness. She thought badly, for tricking him like she had, but she was also one not for living in a cage for to long either! Working for Lanniester grated on her nerves, for she was no ones servant!They had stopped to rest only once, and though her friends wished to stop at the nearby village, she stayed only long enough to bathe, get supplies and then continued on her way alone. Having no idea where she was going, but knowing she must reach Winterfell and soon, she quickened her pace as she felt the coming chill upon the air. She reached a hand into the pouch at her waist and gently fingered the old coin she kept there. She made sure she kept it close, for it was her one tie to the Man who had saved her life, more then the three times she was owed. She would have gone with him, when he asked her to but she felt obligated to go and try to find her family. A quest that was proving fruitless. Rumors ran rampant in the village with which she had stopped and even Gendry had tried to talk her out of going back to her Home, but to stay with them instead. She was beginning to wonder if that had been the smart idea, instead of tracking through the wilderness on her own, with no clear or set direction! She shivered slightly and again cursed herself for a fool! Night was rapidly falling and she sought out shelter next to a small river, building a small fire to keep warm. Huddling into the jacket she had bought at the town, she watched as the flames danced and waved in front of her eyes. She hoped morning came fast, and with it, the sun
Moonlight swathed the assassin in unwelcome illumination. He glared toward the heavens with appellate disdain, his fingertips caressing the blades at his belt as though ready to lend the silvered orb his assistance into a chasm of invisibility. His steps were trained silence, his movements lithe grace. Hovering boughs dared not touch the caped shoulders that passed beneath their twisted canopies for fear of tenacious reprisal. His task had been well completed. None had advanced to present a barrier. The Lion had passed from this life to the next without having seen the faceless who'd sent him there. He'd left not a trace of identification beyond that of a shadow who'd displaced the illusion of King's Landing's impenetrability. Sleep beckoned its precious reward, but time gave him no offer of respite. His senses acute, he could tell she was near. Anxiety cloaked the frigid night air, hastened breaths whispered loudly upon flaming coals. A smile lit the eyes that wore their secret behind years of killing as they came to rest on the girl's tiny frame.
Headed North, is the girl?" His voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once.
starting at the voice, so near to her, did she leap up on instinct, raising the branch that came into contact with her hand first! She might go down, depending on who had found her huddled, near freezing in the night, but she would go down fighting! Her sword, Needle, left behind on some Lannisters belt sickened her, but it could not be helped, so a branch was all she had to wield at the stranger in the night! Adrenaline flooded her, her eyes searching him out in the murky darkness that was her shelter from the cold, little good it did her. Her heart raced, ready to attack if need be, for she was a Stark and was tired of running! Licking her lips, tasting the cold and the night air upon them, did her eyes flit to the darkest shadows, resting upon a figure of a Man, standing just inside her fires light. Upon closer scrutiny, she found she knew this man, and relief as well as fear both flashed through her. She lowered her branch but did not drop it entirely.
"Jaqen...? What are you doing here?" She gazed up into the face of her 'friend', wondering how on earth he found her, before she straightened her back and got a stubborn look across her face. "And yes, I am...what business is it of yours where I go?" she shivers in the cold but tries not to show it, her hands pale white from holding the branch to tightly. Frost alights the ground in a delicate dance of sharp contrast from white to green, the fire gives little warmth. why, oh why did she not listen to Gendry? Her breath, billows out like small puffs of smoke before her, as she stares Him down, wondering what his intent was. If he was there to help, she would welcome it, but if he was there to try to hurt her, she would make sure he felt pain before her end came and let him see it in her eyes.
Jaqen shook his head, amused by the fear she was trying to hide behind feigned bravado. A sharp gale coursed its sudden appearance through the trees, the bare overhead branches creaking in protest while its frigid fingers played their way over the two figures standing in dogged disposition. "Does a girl think to take a man down with that 'twig'?" He reached out and grabbed the weapon away from her, releasing it back to the ground at her feet. Then unsheathing the blades he had at his waist, he gave them a twirl, his smile relentless. "Why waste breath with questions of useless consequence? A man is here. The reason will be given ... or will not be ... without need of your giving it query."
Staring him down, her body shaking in cold made even worse by the wind that ripped through the trees and surrounded them! She tried not to show it, weakness, she hated the word! her eyes flit to the branch in her hands and then back at Jaqen, the blades resting in his belt. "If you have come to cause injury then yes, if I have to!" before the words were even out of her mouth, he had taken the branch from her and cast it to the ground near her feet. Her eyes followed it, as she watched him remove the twin blades at his waist with a smile. What was hidden in that smile of his? what promises where concealed from her there? Pain? he twirled the blades with an expert hand, Pain was expected but not feared. No, she would not fear this Man, no matter how much he tired to intimidate her! She knew that had he wanted her dead, she would have been so, months ago! Still, the look in his eyes gave her pause, for she saw Death within them. her own or anthers, she was not yet sure. Back straight, eyes burning in anger, boring into his own did she challenge him. "I will ask questions when I want to, about things that concern me. It is not I, sneaking like a thief in the night, but you." her words were contradiction, for in fact she had been sneaking. hoping to go unseen till she reached a safe haven, but that was neither here nor there now. "I grow bored of this, if it is your wish to strike me down with those blades in your hands, then by all means do it! otherwise, I am waiting for morning when I can start again on my way." She shivers a bit and turns her back on him, going to once more, sit at the fire, holding her hands out to it as she huddles almost atop it, such is the cold of the night!
"Bored?" He laughed as he circled her with deliberate intent, slowly coming to a halt and lowering to sit cross-legged before the fire. He raked a hand through his silver streaked scarlet mane, a softly inhaled breath filling his lungs with glacial air. The flames danced over the wood, light and shadow playing their ancient venture across his exhaustion. What was he to do with this little wolf? She had severe reason to wish for the kill. Her father had met his untimely end at the hand of a boy whose depravity was becoming widely renowned, his illegitimacy fostered by increasing rumour that he was a Lannister, not a Baratheon. Incest was the love that royals of Westeros seemed to prefer; self-righteous murder their game of thrones. None were in possession of comprehension as to who the true players actually were. Power was seated deeply in Braavos. Control of the game lay beyond the reach of these Seven Kingdoms and their petty pawns. "A man has no care to strike down a girl. Sit." He patted the ground at his side. "Tell a man of a girl's plans. On way to where?"
her eyes narrowed at his words, teasing in his voice as it made its way to her awaiting ears. She had reason to fear, friends and strangers alike, for theirs was a game not of her understanding and she had played the fool far to long. No more a young girl was she for she had seen to much. The Death of her Dance Master, Her Fathers Death still heavy upon her mind, even the Death of the Brother of the Knights Watch who was securing her safety had been shot down in cold blood before her eyes. To much death, makes one wary and age before their time, such was her fate. She watched him, like he was some sort of snake, wanting to believe the words he said to her and yet not fully letting herself for fear of betrayal yet again. Time had not been good to her, not to anyone she knew, but it had taught her many lessons, the first of which was to trust no one but herself! She did as he bid though, taking a seat beside him, looking up at him, wondering why he was really here. Her eyes sought his, as if trying to seek out the things he had hidden in their depths but his sky blue eyes gave away nothing. she looked back to the fire and tossed a small branch upon it, sending tiny sparks of firelight into the sky. She watched them, float and fling upon the night air around them before she answered. "On to Winterfelll...to home." She sighs softly and looks back at the fire, in thought. "Or so I thought I was, now, I am not so sure. Rumors fly, Winterfell is taken, I don't know where my mother and brothers are...nor do I know in what direction I am going." She frowns slightly as she talks, playing with a stick in her hands and wondering why she was telling him anything!
He raised his eyes to the moon just as a cloud took its precedence in obscurity. What was he doing here? Now the same question crossed his own mind. He owed the girl nothing and the Starks even less. His debt was to someone and something so far from Westeros as to seem unholy. Yet, here he sat between heaven and the seven hells wearing a face that was not his, more blood on his hands than could be discerned by the keenest inspection, in the company of a child with rivers of hatred flowing like molten lava throughout her veins. She was too young for such pain. It was an agony which he, himself, knew too well ... whether or not he chose to admit it, was the true reason for his embracing empathy. "A girl will go with a man to Braavos, there to learn the fine art of assassination. She will then be able to take her revenge and none be the wiser as to her identity."
she flicked her eyes to his again, her own furrowing in the anger that seemed to flare up out of nowhere within her. It happened that way all the time now, where it used to be a soft glowing coal inside her, it became a raging inferno at a moments notice and was gone just as swiftly a moment later. "I will go nowhere but HOME!" her voice strong as she glared at the man who would appear out of nowhere and tell her her direction!"My family needs me! I must see if the rumors are true! I can not just abandon them, no matter how much I may want to!" she stood and took a few steps away, anger simmering to a low boil within her veins, followed by fear and loss, followed swiftly by resolve and anger again as she turned to face him. "Why are you here? You have paid your debt to the Red God, why come back?" she faced him down with both rage and confusion in her eyes. what could he possibly want? She thought him gone the day they parted ways, yet here he was, offering her the one thing she wanted, revenge! Upon any and all who have or would ever hurt her! but duty and loyalty to ones family came first and she was set on her path to Winterfell, though it might lead to her undoing. As she waited for his reply, a thought came to her. He had traveled many leagues, had seen many places, perhaps he could take her home! show her the way, but how to convince him that she needed to follow this path first, before she gave into any others? He owed her nothing, his debt paid, how could she do this? Looking back into the flames, lost in thought, till an idea began to form. smiling faintly to herself, she hid it as she turned back to Jaqen and once again met his eyes. "Take me to Winterfell, See me home safe for at least a glimpse, and on my honor, this girl will go with you, where ever you have a mind to take her." her words soft, but true as she watched him.
He gave a sudden, harsh laugh, much louder than he'd intended. "It's the middle of winter, girl," he reminded her. "A man has walked through snowdrifts as high as his waist. Bilzzard storms have ravaged his travel and brought him to standstill more times than not. There were days when he thought he would lose all his fingers despite his best efforts to keep them from freezing. Still the numbing pain took its toll on his mind and visions exploded in violent bursts of dangerous perplexity. A girl is of the North and knows these things without possession of need to be told." A glowering glance completed his protest. Turning his back, he stepped away ... not from her but from reason's verity. He did not wish her exposed to what they might find awaiting them once they made their arrival. Word had reached him long before now that Theon Greyjoy had taken control of the keep, proclaiming himself the King of Winterfell. Arya's youngest brothers had been captured and slain, their corpses burned and hung from the battlements as gruesome of the kraken's achievement. Bringing the girl there would only place her in harm's way as well. And even were he to keep her well hidden, what she'd see and hear would prove equally painful. Her aim was to become her family's savior, but it was too late for even the slightest of such possibilities. He turned back around but stayed where he stood, shaking his head with adamant refusal. "You will come with me to Braavos." His voice was firm and his gaze steadfast.
"If you were so worried for your extremities, why come after me?" she demanded hotly, her own gaze a penetrating look that demanded answers, saying she would no back down. "Why travel this far North if you have business far and away as you so readily stated?" hands crossed across her chest, she glared at him, curious as to why he had come, seeing something deep within his own eyes that he thought he had hidden well. "I will do no such thing!" Her hands ball into fists as her eyes snapped fire! "I am set on my path to Winterfell, I have things there that I must at least see to". She turns to look back at him, eyes once again hard. "If a Man wants to see this girl safe, he will take her there..." she raised her chin, for the way they looked at each other she could tell she had hit a soft spot in him, and it softened her eyes a bit but not her resolve. "This girl goes with...or without you..."
A deep sigh escaped him. "A girl does not know what she is asking for." He bristled as he locked his eyes with hers, a silver of moonlight catching the silver streaks in his hair giving the tendrils an eerie brilliance. "Does she think she will find something pleasant she left behind? Some doll or some memory that will bring her comfort?" Advancing into her space, he leaned close maintaining his gaze and lowering his voice to a malefic growl. "How far does she think she will get in these woods alone? How many fingers and toes will she lose once she travels a bit farther North into snow?" His goal was to get her as far from the squalor of Westeros as possible and all she seemed to want was to venture more deeply into its clutches. Starks. He shook his head./
hearing his words, her anger again flooded her causing her cheeks to turn pink. She knew he spoke the truth, for indeed it was cold, freezing even. she had only a coat to keep her warm and not a very good one at that. It had holes and patches in places that did not good for use. even now, she shivered violently as she stared up at him. "How far do I think I will get..." she kept her voice low as well, velvet in its sound as he lowered into her space, nor did she backtrack with him so close. Brave though she was, and stubborn, he best learn that quick! "...all the way!"She leans her face towards his in answer, as if daring him to challenge her. she was going! At least to see how her home fared, hear from her Maesters mouth how things were,she had to. There was no question in her mind about this path. "How many fingers and toes am I willing to sacrifice to get there?" She threw his question back at him with a growl of her own. "All of them...Winterfell is my home, worth more to me then life." She straightens her back, gazing into his cerulean eyes, her own set in stubbornness. "Take me there, or don't...either way, I am going." She turns her back upon him and picks up her coat, slipping it on and putting out the tiny flame she had for a fire. "I am already to late in starting as it is.." She casts another look his way before setting her heels towards the deeper forest. staying off the roads as she made her way Northward. It wouldn't take long, she was nearly there and this was a NEED she had to do! she could not explain it to him or herself any other way.
By the Red God and every damn god this world ever knew, the girl was as stubborn as the winter winds! He stood for a very long time without moving, his arms akimbo and his thoughts wildly roiling. Of course he could let her go on for a day, maybe two, maybe three. She would be easy to track and to find again. A hard lesson would be learned in the results of being bullheaded. There really were places where the snow drifts were higher than she was tall. And while the temperatures were nothing compared to what they were at The Wall where her bastard brother served his calling, they were damn cold enough to see her to illness if not to death. She had nothing to gain and so much to lose, regardless of her determination. "Foolish!" he muttered under his breath. The Ironborns would be guarding the roads on approach and all they need see were the grey orbs of Stark. Winterfell's new 'false' king would have her in his hold before she could understand what had happened. She'd left him little choice but to follow in the wake of her heedless folly. "A girl is going to get us both killed."
"A girl was not expecting a Man to follow her..." was her short reply. She huddled into her coat, wrapping her arms around her as she walked deeper into the woods. She knew Winter was coming, had felt its icy tendrils waft and grab at her in the nights that had come and gone. So many nights, cold and alone. she was beginning to wonder if she should had just stayed in the town with the others. Icy breath breathed down her spine and she shivered, but she knew her path was already set. To at least see her home was her quest, for her father had instilled the same love of home into her that he, himself, had felt. She couldn't explain it, not to herself, not to Jaqen, not to anyone. She simply knew it was a part of her.
Night gave way to dawn, and she had to finally stop, collapsing in a heap near the brambles. She had stayed off the roads, knowing everyone from here to Kings Landing would be looking for her. She was beyond cold but gave no complaint, not wanting the Man to know he had been right. her fingers had begun to ache and her throat hurt with every breath, of icy spikes that serrated it as she breathed. Tucking her fingers into her arms, she huddled deeper inside her coat and leaned against a tree in an attempt to sleep, only for a few minuets. They were nearly there, or so she hoped.
"Why does a girl copy a man's speech? He does not find it amusing nor cute. And a girl expected a man's pursuit or she would not have taken her leave with such defiance." He glanced dismissively at Arya, a ragged edge tainting his tone. "Consider it a tender mercy and do not try it again or a girl will find herself on her own in the hands of an unknown possessor who will show her none."They followed paths that Jaqen often could not make out. Their tracks wove through impenetrable undergrowth that turned into ice bound vines of sheer treachery. There was no sound save that of their own breaths upon the chill air. He longed to be going almost anywhere but Winterfell. The closer they came to the occupied keep, the closer to danger he placed her. Yes, HE placed her, for if he had any sense at all in his head he would swoop her up in his arms and head east to the sea.
"Because it pleases me to do so." She throws a faint smile in Jaqens direction as she lays huddled near the tree. "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery...is it not?" She leans her head back and closed her eyes. "Besides, I like the way you talk...it's nice..." She says softly, not aware at how truthful she was being as she faded into sleep. Many hours passed and she sat bolt upright in fear! Horses! close and coming closer! She shot out of her postion of sleep, ignoring the aches in her cold body and went to nudge Jaqen, not knowing if he to had fallen asleep. Hiding in the brambles, they could see and hear but not be seen. She held her breath when the horses came closer, and watched as they passed by. She did not relax even when they passed them by but stood slowly and met Jaqens eyes with her own. "We must be close...what was a Greyjoy flag doing this far North?" her voice soft, barely whispered./
He tensed, every sinew preparing to strike as he closed his hands over his blades and attuned his senses to the approaching intrusion. Dark shapes moved amidst the shadows, virtually invisible in the enshrouding ebon but announcing themselves by their brazen dispatch. He kept his sight trained upon the possibility of their being discovered, never allowing his gaze a moment's wavering as he watched the soldiers ride by in blessed ignorance. Their tunics emblazoned with golden krakens announced what Jaqen had known all along. The Ironborn indeed had laid cliam to Winterfell. He grunted as he came to his feet, hesitant to answer the girl's question. It seemed the time of her innocence had reached its finality. "Did a man not attempt to sway a girl from this Northern course upon which she was so determined to tread? Greyjoy holds her home now. She no longer belongs there."
she watched him, tensed as he was, her eyes flitting back to the path and back to him in rapid succession. Her whole body stiffens at his words, her heart literally stopping at the pain that fills her. Her jaw ticks slightly as she fights the pain as well as the anger that instantly floods her. she refused to believe it! None but a Stark could hold Winterfell! anyone else would be blasphemy! "No!" her words soft, yet strong as she stood and started to walk the path in the woods that led her to her home. Seeing the horses gave her pause, nearly made her want to turn back but not now! Now she was filled with rage beyond measure as she glanced up above the trees. The towers of her home beckoned her closer and closer as they teased her in the distance. "No one holds Winterfell but the Starks! NO ONE!" her last words shouts as instead of walking she began to run! paying no heed to his vehement demands for her to stop or to return to his side for she no longer heard him! She ran with a purpose, her feet keeping to the path she knew well! anger flooded her till it was all she saw, red!She reached the end of the forest and nearly ran out to see for herself the estate of her home when someone slammed into her with such a force it made her scream, which she abruptly cut off for fear of the nearby guardsman hearing when she saw it was but the Man who had grabbed her! how he had moved so fast, and unheard by her, she did not know, but he had stopped her from giving herself away and held her fast, refusing to let her go, no matter how hard she pounded against him. "NO! Jaqen...let me go! No!" her voice low but her pleas filled with pain and longing as she beat feebly against him. "It is my home...my home!" seeing the banner of the Kraken now flying above her fathers gates broke her and she burst into tears of intense pain and rage as she both clung to Jaqen and tried to fight him off. "No...please." her eyes burned as blown tea lights in the darkness of the night, her fingers became claws as she tore at his armor in her attempt to free herself from his grasp but her fighting began to wane the harder he held her till she finally collapsed upon his chest and wept, wept tears for all who had lived here, died here and for the blaspheme king that now sat in Winterfells hold!