'Lovely girl.'
As the girl slipped, silent as a shadow, past the mouth of a Braavosi alley, she heard a whisper from
the darkness.
A whisper that sent her back to Harrenhal, to Arya Stark, to all the things she was trying to forget.
The girl froze. She turned her head, but she could see nothing within the alley except blackness. She smelled rotted fish and salt, but under that, faint and teasing, the scent of spices and flowers.
His hair had smelled like that, of spice and flowers, even when he wore the Lannisters' leather and plate. Other men smelled of sweat, of meat or blood, oil or leather or steel. Jaqen never had.
The girl took a soft cat-step toward the alley.
'Who is there?' she whispered back.
'Who does a girl look for?'
Now she was sure it was him. Only Jaqen talked like that. For an instant, she thought of running. It was only recently that she had stopped dreaming of Jaqen H'ghar, had stopped looking for him around every corner. If she saw him again, all of that work would be undone. It wasn't fair. Arya Stark might have been drawn to Jaqen, but she was no one. No one didn't need anyone, not even Jaqen H'ghar.
Instead, her feet carried her into the alley. In the grimy space between two buildings, the darkness resolved itself into dim gray light. Now she could see him, leaning up against a wall, his legs crossed at the ankles, his head tilted slightly to the side, so that his white-streaked red hair fell over his shoulder in a mass of loose waves. The crimson plate and leather of his Lannister armor was gone- now he dressed like a bravo in a long brocade jacket of purple and gold, with white Myrish lace at his throat like a woman. Below the jacket, he had tight breeches on, with a narrow bravo's sword at his hip.
'What are you doing here?' Arya asked. It was no use trying to be no one anymore. She wore Arya's face, and Jaqen wore his own.
'A man is many places,' Jaqen said. 'A man goes where he is needed and where he is asked to go.'
'You said Jaqen H'ghar was dead.'
'A man says what he must.' He smiled and she felt a pang of familiar sensation in her belly. That smile, and those sleepy eyes had haunted her dreams far more than she would like to admit.
Arya Stark had never been taken in by pretty boys, but Jaqen was a man, and he was not pretty. He was mesmerizing. She had never seen anything like him before.
'I don't need you,' she said now.
Jaqen shrugged. 'A man has not said that a girl needs him. But a man may have need of a girl.'
'What do you need me for?' she asked, already suspicious.
Jaqen blinked slowly, and his smile never changed. 'A man has not said which girl,' he pointed out. He uncrossed his legs and stood up to his full height. Arya took a step back.
'Now a girl is afraid?' he asked.
'I'm not afraid!'
'A man thought a girl might be pleased to see a friend. But a girl is angry.'
'I'm not angry.' She was, though. Angry at him, angry mostly at herself. Jaqen left, she told herself. He left, and he is only back because he needs my help.
'What did you need me for?' she asked again.
'A man has a task. But a man is not sure a girl can help.'
Arya felt vaguely insulted. Hadn't she gotten them out of Harrenhal alive? Hadn't she made her way all the way to Braavos? 'Of course I can help!' she said indignantly.
Jaqen shrugged. 'A girl would have to be very quiet, very careful. Not a sound, like a cat. Can a girl do these things?'
'Of course I can!' She could. Syrio Forel had made sure of that.
'A man is not sure.'
'I can prove it to you,' she said boldly. Jaqen raised one eyebrow.
'How can a girl prove to a man?'
'I can be quiet. I can be quiet as a shadow,' Arya said.
'No matter what happens, a girl can be quiet?' Jaqen asked.
He took another step toward her, and this time Arya held her ground, 'No matter what,' she said.
'A man wants to believe a girl... But a man has doubts.' Now he was almost close enough to touch. Arya's heart was pounding. She could smell his subtle scent, see the difference in texture between the red and the white parts of his hair. His full lips were still smiling, that little, smug smile that never seemed to leave them. It was a sight she both hated and loved. There was golden stubble on his chin, she saw, and a tiny cut where he must have nicked himself shaving.
'I'll prove it to you,' she said again. 'I can be quiet for ten minutes. No matter what.'
'No matter what a man does, a girl can keep still?' Jaqen asked. His brow rose again, and Arya felt herself trying to blush. But Arya Stark didn't blush. She never had. Instead, she nodded and firmed her jaw.
She could do this. What was he going to do, after all? Tickle her? Her brothers had tried and failed at tickle wars.
'Beginning now,' Jaqen said, 'A girl counts.'
Arya nodded again.
Jaqen reached out and ran his fingertip down the side of her face. Arya shivered at the touch.
'A girl has pretty eyes,' he whispered. His voice was lower now, deeper.
'Pretty blue, like Southern lakes. A man has seen.'
He cupped her chin in his hand, squeezed it lightly. 'Stubborn little chin,' he said. 'Does a girl still think she can keep quiet?'
Arya twitched her chin out of his hand. She wanted to tell him to stop touching her, but that wouldn't be keeping quiet. Instead, she glared.
'So fierce,' Jaqen whispered. He bent his head, and she felt his hair tickle her face. When he moved forward, his body touched hers from chest to ankles.
She could feel his breath on her face. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, but that wouldn't be keeping quiet either.
'Arya,' he said. 'A girl has a pretty name. And a pretty face.'
I'm not pretty! Arya thought angrily. What game was he playing at?
Jaqen lifted both hands to her face and cupped her cheeks. He lowered his head until his hair hung all around her face and his mouth was only inches from hers.
'Arya,' he said again. He turned his head and breathed on the corner of her mouth. Arya felt her own breath shuddering in her chest. She wanted something, but she didn't know what. The pang was back in her belly, a strange, twisting feeling. Her skin felt too sensitive.
She wanted to tell him to stop, but she had to be quiet.
Jaqen breathed on the other side of her mouth now. His hands slid down to the sides of her throat, just the fingertips stroking. They slid over her shoulders and down the outsides of her arms until his fingers entwined with hers.
'Lovely girl,' he said. 'Lovely boy. A man knew the boy was a girl, but he did not say. A man was glad, though. A man would not have felt like this, for a boy.'
'Jaqen…' Arya yanked her hands free.
Jaqen tossed his own up in the air.
'A girl sees? She cannot keep quiet for even one minute. She offers ten but fails at one. How can a girl be of help to a man? A man will have to find another.'
Then Arya grabbed a double handful of his hair and yanked his mouth down to hers. Their lips crushed together and their teeth clashed. She tasted blood, but she also tasted mint, and its scent on his breath had almost made her drunk while he teased her.
The kiss left a lot to be desired, but it was her first, and it was Jaqen. It still made Arya shudder and whimper against his mouth. She wanted more, but she didn't know how.
'A girl does not know how to do this,' Jaqen said, pulling back from her. He was smiling again. There was a smear of blood on his lower lip, and his eyes were half-lidded and intense, making the lazy smile a lie.
Arya cocked her head defiantly, even though part of her wanted to cry.
'You could show me how,' she said.
Jaqen blinked slowly. 'A man could do this thing,' he said. There was a considering look on his face now, behind the prevalent smile. Then he reached out, caught her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers.
This was what she had been wanting. Jaqen's lips were soft when he kissed her, not bruising and clumsy like hers had been. His teeth never touched her, but his tongue slid into her mouth and the feeling in her belly unspooled and ran through her limbs like sweet fire. His hands slid to the back of her neck, caressed her through her hair. When she felt like her legs wouldn't hold her up, he dropped his hands to her waist and lifted her against the wall. His mouth never left hers. Slowly and thoroughly he kissed her.
When he stopped, Arya was breathing hard. Jaqen pulled back and smiled.
'That is how a man does it,' he said. His lips were wet and swollen, his eyes half-lidded.
'Let me try,' Arya said. His eyebrow raised, and then he shrugged.
Arya came forward and looked up at him. He was too tall. 'I can't reach,' she said.
Jaqen sighed. 'A girl asks much,' he said. Then he knelt, grinding the knees of his fancy bravo's breeches into the alley's grime.
Arya stepped up to him and put her hands on either side of his face, as he had done to her.
'Your hair is pretty,' she said. 'It looks like a horse's mane.'
'Hmm,' Jaqen said. 'A girl's technique needs work.'
'Shut up,' Arya said.
Then she put her mouth to his. His lips were soft, and his stubble scratched her cheeks. Following only the instincts that compelled her, she pulled his lower lip into her mouth and bit down on it, then slid her tongue along the bruise. 'Open,' she said against his mouth. Jaqen tilted his head and opened his mouth under hers, and she let her tongue inside. She was beginning to learn how to do this, she thought.
After a few minutes, she heard his breathing change. Kissing him was like eating fruit, moist, delicious, hard to stop. She could probably do it all day, but she was pretty sure there was more to this than that.
Sliding her mouth off his, Arya bit his cheek lightly, and then his chin. He felt good, he tasted good. She wanted more. When she kissed his neck, he arched his head back, and she felt him tremble under her hands.
'A man is weak,' he said.
Arya's hands went to his chest, the fastenings of the fancy gold and purple jacket.
When she started to undo them, his hands caught hers.
'A girl should not. A girl is too young.'
'I'm not too young,' Arya said. Her hands kept working. When she pulled the jacket apart, she saw the muscles of his chest, and a scattering of golden hair. She wanted to taste it on her tongue. Salt, she thought, Salt and spices and flowers.
'A girl does not know what she wants,' Jaqen said.
'I do know.' Arya bent her head and kissed his chest, licked him. Mm, she thought, I was right.
Jaqen sighed. He opened his mouth to say more, and she bit him. Jaqen growled and caught a handful of her hair. He tugged on it, and Arya yelped. 'A girl has teeth,' he said, 'but she should not always use them.'
He looked so delicious like that, the smile almost a scowl, his eyes darkened and hooded, that Arya leaned up and kissed him again. He obviously wasn't angry because he kissed her back, until she was dizzy. When he pushed her gently back, Arya groaned in protest. Why did he keep making her stop? Every time she felt like she was getting somewhere, he called a halt. Arya fisted her hands in his hair and tugged on it. 'Give me,' she said.
'A girl wants what?' Jaqen asked. He winced when she pulled his hair too hard, and moved her hands away. 'A man has given much.'
'I want to lie with you,' Arya said. 'Like a man lies with a woman.'
Her brothers had. Robb, Theon, probably even Jon, they had all been with women. Arya had heard them talking. She knew the basics, probably better than Sansa had, with her awful golden prince.
Jaqen raised his brows. 'A woman lies with a man. A girl…'
'I am not a GIRL!' Arya smacked him in the chest, then grabbed his hair again. 'Seven Hells, Jaqen H'ghar!'
'A girl is angry.'
'A GIRL would like to fuck you.'
She flinched when the words were out. They weren't quite what she had meant to say, but they weren't a lie, either. She thought she quite would like to fuck him. If she knew how.
But Jaqen knew how. He could show her.
'A girl has bold words, but a man knows she is innocent,' Jaqen said.
He reached up and caught Arya's hand, where it still held his hair. Gently he disentangled her fingers from the white streaks they held.
Arya felt her eyes fill with tears. 'Please, Jaqen,' she whispered.
'What does a girl want?' Jaqen asked.
'You,' Arya said.
'A girl wants a man?'
'Yes.'
He sighed. 'Then let a girl take a man. A man is weak. A man will not stop her.'
He leaned back against the alley wall, letting his head rest against the bricks. His eyes were sleepy, if you believed the lids and not the dilated pupils, and his lips still swollen from her kisses.
Arya licked her own lips.
'Truly?' she asked.
'A man has said,' Jaqen said.
Arya knelt over him. She started to unlace her jerkin, but Jaqen touched her wrist.
'A girl should keep her jacket on. If a man sees how young she is, he will know he should stop her.'
Arya blinked, but she let the laces fall. Instead, she leaned down and put her hands on Jaqen's chest. He drew a breath, and his ribs arched under her touch. His skin was smooth and warm. She slid her hands down over his flat belly to the top of his breeches.
Jaqen drew another breath. When she looked up at his face, his expression was fixed and almost pained. 'Should I stop?' Arya asked.
'A girl asks this?' Jaqen asks. 'A man is at a loss.'
I think he means don't stop, Arya thought.
Before she could change her mind, she slid her hand down the rest of the way. She felt something stiff in Jaqen's pants, pressing up against her touch. His cock, she thought, it's his cock.
She had never seen one. Well, you can't fuck without seeing a cock.
When she unlaced his breeches, Jaqen lifted his hips to let her push them down. He wasn't wearing smallclothes. His cock sprang free, and Arya caught it in her hand. This is what men and women do, she thought.
Jaqen made a sound when she touched him, a gasp and a growl. 'A girl is bold,' he said. 'Maybe not so innocent.'
Arya was frozen.
His cock grew from a nest of hair as red as that on his head. The strands tickled her hand where she held him. The skin was as soft and smooth as that on his chest. What now? Arya thought.
She didn't know.
Then Jaqen's hands were on her waist, lifting her up. He sat her down astride him, and Arya felt his cock pressing against her own breeches. Pressing against her woman's parts.
Jaqen sighed when he had her settled. He moved his grip from her waist to her shoulders, and pulled her down to his mouth.
'Lovely girl,' he breathed. His lips met hers, and his tongue stole her breath. He tasted like honey and mint, the kiss as hot as dragon peppers and twice as tempting. Arya flattened her hands on his bare chest. Her fingernails dug in and he gasped into her mouth and arched up under her.
Arya felt that feeling again. It had been almost lost in her fear and her nervousness, but now, with Jaqen's mouth opening and his tongue teasing hers, she squirmed against him. Her body WANTED, but she wasn't sure what it wanted.
She squirmed again.
'Lovely girl, it is not too late to stop,' Jaqen said into her mouth. His body arched up against her again, making a lie of his words.
Arya gasped. 'What is that?' she asked him. 'What is that feeling?'
'What is this feeling a girl speaks of?'
Arya put a hand to her stomach. 'Here. A feeling here.'
'Ah.' Jaqen smiled. 'A man knows.'
'What do I do?' Arya asked.
He looked up at her, and Arya saw the intensity in his eyes. They weren't sleepy any more. 'A girl must take off her breeches,' he said. 'Then a man will show her.'
Arya lifted herself off him and unlaced her breeches. When she pushed them down over her thin hips, she stood before him in just her smallclothes.
'Those too,' Jaqen said. He licked his lips, and Arya shivered at the sight of him, reclining against the alley wall, bare-chested and bare below, his cock as hard as Needle's steel.
Before she could change her mind, she shucked her smallclothes off and stood before him, as bare as he was.
'A girl must be sure,' he said, holding out his hand to her.
'I'm sure,' Arya lied. She put her hand in his, and he tugged her close.
'A girl should close her eyes.'
Arya did. She felt Jaqen take her by the waist again, and then lift her up. When he set her down again, they were bare skin to bare skin. She felt the hot hardness of his cock against the tender flesh between her legs and shuddered. Jaqen's hands were on her hips now, holding her still.
'A man was wrong,' he said. 'A girl can take her jacket off.'
Arya opened her eyes. Jaqen smiled at her.
That smile… Arya pulled her ragged tunic over her head and tossed it aside. Under it, she was naked.
Jaqen's eyes roamed over her budded breasts, her skinny ribs and flat belly.
'Hmm,' he said.
'What does that mean?' Arya demanded. He only smiled.
Half angry, half drunk on desire for him, Arya grabbed his hair and then gave in to the urge to kiss him again. When she let him up for air, Jaqen slid his hands up her hips, to her breasts.
'May a man touch?' he asked.
'Please,' Arya said.
He touched her with just his fingertips, and then with his mouth. When he kissed and nibbled her there, Arya cried out. She squirmed against him, and felt him move under her.
'If a girl wants a man, a girl must take him,' Jaqen said.
'Take him how?' Arya asked.
'Inside,' Jaqen said.
'Show me,' Arya said.
Jaqen reached down between them.
It hurt. Arya cried out and tried to lunge up and away from him, but he held her down. After a moment, the pain eased. She felt… Strange. It hurt, and yet the feeling in her belly, that teasing feeling, had intensified. She squirmed a little bit, and they both gasped.
'A girl should be still,' Jaqen said. 'A man has told her he is weak.'
'I can't,' Arya said. She squirmed again.
'Ah,' Jaqen said. He reached down between them again, and Arya flinched, expecting more pain. Instead, he touched something and the feeling in her belly slid between her legs and went white-hot.
'Gods!' she cried.
'Hmm,' Jaqen said. He kept touching her, and Arya squirmed and whimpered. She lifted herself off him part way and then sat back down. Jaqen gasped.
'Please,' Arya said.
'Again,' Jaqen said.
She did it again. 'Yes. A girl learns.' He kept stroking her with his fingertip, and Arya began to ride him. It was similar to riding a horse, except a horse did not respond as Jaqen did. He gasped and arched under her, and his smile turned into a snarl of effort.
'Ah.. A girl learns.. Ah, yes. Ah.'
Then Arya couldn't pay any more attention to his reactions, because her own was overtaking her. She felt her muscles clench around him, and shudders of hot pleasure went through her until she thought she would burst. Then she did, and she fell forward on Jaqen's chest. He bucked beneath her and she felt a hot wetness inside, where his cock was. 'Mmmph..' she mumbled against his damp chest.
A few moments later, she pushed up off him and looked down into his face.
'I told you I wasn't too young.'
Jaqen raised his brows. His smile was back, and she felt him twitch inside her.
'A man has seen,' he agrees. 'A girl is old enough to give pleasure to a man, and to take pleasure for herself.'
'Did I give pleasure to you?' Arya asked.
'A girl knows she did,' Jaqen said. He lifted her off him, and Arya saw a glimpse of his wet cock. It was smeared with blood. Her blood.
My maidenhead, Arya thought. I gave him my maidenhead.
What had she been thinking?
Jaqen was on his feet, his breeches pulled up and laced. He closed his jacket, and picked her own ragged tunic up off the ground. When he tossed it to her, Arya caught it and yanked it down over her head. Now, suddenly, she was blushing.
She looked for her smallclothes and her breeches, found them and put them on. She couldn't look at Jaqen.
Then his hands were on her chin, forcing her face up to his. He looked as he had when she first walked into the alley- a swaggering bravo, to gorgeous for his own good, and far, far too confident. His eyes met hers and he smiled. 'Don't be sad, lovely girl. Now come. A man has a task, and a girl has promised to help him.'
There was that cursed smile again. Arya felt a slow shiver in her belly. Already she wanted to try it out again. Kissing him, riding him. And she was pretty sure he knew it.
'You are a horse's ass, Jaqen H'ghar,' she said.
He held out his hand, and Arya put hers in it.
This time she wasn't letting him walk away by himself.