The Stars Gazed Back.
"The image haunted his dreams throughout the night: a lovely girl gazing at the stars, and the stars who gazed back."
― Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass
Her gray eyes silently watch the room, its inhabitants as various voices speak together. Their voices drown in her thoughts even as she hears all their words.
Calm as still water, she sits watching ideas thrown back and forth.
Jon, her brother in command at the far end of the room alongside the Dragon Queen is directly opposite her. A map of the north unfurled in front of them. Ser Davos, Jon's trusted advicor is to his right as Tyrion Lannister is to the Queen's and on his other side is his brother, the Kingslayer. She had wanted him executed the moment it was revealed he had crippled Bran. However, her younger brother had held her hand and asked her Ser Jaime not be harmed, for he had an important role to play in the war. Reluctantly she had agreed as had Jon and Sansa.
The Kingslayer had arrived right after Jon and everyone and revealed Cersei and Euron were conspiring to take advantage of the war with the undead and had engaged the services of The Golden Company.
The North had to be defended from every possible corner. With the collapse of the Wall, the undead were marching from North, from South; it was Cersei's troops and the Golden Company; from the east, Euron might attack them as well to take advantage of the situation.
She wished her father were here, if he was here, life would have been different. If he were here, they wouldn't have had to go through this alone perhaps. Most importantly, if he were here they wouldn't have needed the Kingslayer.
Jaime Lannister had lost his hand nonetheless was treated with the utmost respect in this room for his expertise in the battlefield, as the most experienced of the gathered company. He had valuable insight that they needed; despite all the wars that Jon and the Queen had fought they were quick torealize what an asst Jaime Lannister would be to them. He made them realize how Euron and Cersei could split their troops and overwhelm them, a thought which hadnt occurred to even Tyrion Lannister, the little man with the sharpest mind in the seven kingdoms.
She could let him live until they won the war she figured.
Right now, they needed him. So be it.
Valar Morghulis, she thought.
She had no expertise in planning battles despite her other skills and so she sat quietly, observing others; absorbing every bit of detailing going into planning a war that was last fought thousands of years ago. Just as Maester Samwell was, who turned out to be Jon's best friend from Castle Black.
In another world, Winterfell might have been this crowded perhaps for a celebration held for a reunion of the remaining Starks….
Sometimes she still couldn't believe it that there were four of them here at the same time. After years of believing, she might have been the only one left made the adjustment a little difficult. She was happy and yet frightened still somewhere deep within her heart to let that happiness reflect in her eyes and on her face.
The most display of affection she had allowed herself was when she reunited with Jon not two days ago.
She hadnt cared who looked on as she broke rank and ran to her brother upon his arrival and had jumped into his arms the moment his feet were on the ground.
The marvel of two real live Dragons, the Unsullied, the Dothraki, even the threat of imminent death couldn't at Winterfell's doorstep wasn't enough compared to the joy of her reunion with Jon.
It was not the only reunion she had to her surpise however, for just as she was released from Jon's arms there were a few other faces she had encountered over the years - two of them she believed long dead.
Gendry and the Hound were with her brother. Soon Jon and Sansa learned how they were acquainted with her and she didn't know how to deal with the guilt,the pity, the pain and the surprise on their faces.
Sansa had found her that night after learning from the Hound how she had witnessed Robb and apologized for her earlier words.
Arya could not remember the last time she had shared a bed with Sansa, but that night the sisters had found solace in each other's arms. Jon had come just as they were discussing how Robb and Jon had once fooled them in the crypts as children.
The trio had ended up talking through the night – about their father, their lost brothers and even her mother. She had learned how they lost Rickon and what had happened to Sansa's second husband Ramsay.
She wished she had been around to serve him to the Many Faced God. It was the first time she had felt the wolf within her sister even as it crushed her to realize what it had cost her to discover it, unleash it.
They had fallen asleep for a while in front of the fireplace in her room. The three of them huddled together against her bed. She had woken up to find Sansa' head on her shoulder much as her own was on Jon's.
They had been awaken to announce the Kingslayer's arrival without any Lannister Army at his book with only a sellsword Bronn, the one who had been with him at the Twins at his side.
Much like her, many people in the room were present with no valuable inputs for the war and kept their mouths shut. For that, she was ever so grateful.
Nothing got on her nerves more than useless chatter and stupidity.
She observed Sansa and the Hound; the Kingslayer and Brienne, Mellisandre and Grey Worm – the only ones aside from her keeping to themselves exchanging looks from time to time.
Interesting she thought, her sister was definitely not as subtle as she believed herself to be and she wondered at the prospect of an Unsullied with a lover…in another life she would have asked the girl a most definite inappropriate question about how that worked, in this one she simply kept to herself.
She found Gendry looking at her aswell but paid him no heed. He was asked to sit in on this discussion not as Robert Baratheon's only living son but to provide his expertise as a blacksmith who had been the apperentice of the famed Tobho Mott, one of the three most famed blacksmiths in all of Westeros. Gendry had to make a version of Qyburn's scorpion to take down Viserion, the resurrected dragon.
She knew he thought she avoided him since she was angry with him. The truth however was far simpler, she simply had nothing to share and discuss with him anymore.
What might be shared between a hunter and the hunted she thought…and for years, now she was a hunter, a beast of prey and he, he was one of the lucky ones who escaped the hunt.
There was no anger in her for him anymore, but there was no other emotion as well.
She hoped he would come to understand that, their days of sharing a mutual turf were over.
There was really no one here without any bloodshed on his or her hands however; she couldn't find it in herself to relate to anyone. The Hound had once told her killers make the world and here watching this gathering she couldn't help but feel a corner of her lips pull up as she thought how true was that.
A pang arose in her heart though, at the thought.
She had found only one, one person in this whole wide world who had understood the new her and inspite of everything she missed him, she missed him so very much it hurt.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath just as the doors opened and a few servants ushered in to serve the gathered council.
As a girl got busy in serving drinks to everyone, another arranged the table and a third servant, a boy of no more than one and ten set up the dishes for everyone.
As he got closer to her, she detected a faint a hint of ginger and lemons and cloves on him.
He met her eyes once and quickly looked away but she saw the familiar blue and her heart raced as it never had before.
He was leaving the room when it happened.
A small dagger pierced his shoulder and the world stopped.
She could feel the eyes of everyone into that room burning holes into her skull but she didn't care.
She heard her brother and sister calling to her but didn't answer, she heard the two serving girls muttering apologies as they stuttered but didn't care.
For all her attention was on the boy who stood still and silent almost leaving the room.
He was bleeding, and in pain but she didn't care.
She placed a hand on the bleeding shoulder and turned him around.
Looking at the silent room, she knew what she had to do,
"You two, leave and shut the door behind while at it."
She ordered the serving girls and they obeyed her in an instant.
The gathered council looked at her and the boy, she saw Jon coming towards her from the corner of her eye and just as he reached Sansa, she pulled off the mask.
Gasps erupted in the room as Sansa held Jon's arm. The Hound walked up to her and shielded her other side to protect her as Grey Worm and Ser Jorah shielded their Khaleesi. Jaime Lannister and Bronn effectively hid the little man behind them.
Only Gendry spoke,
"You! It's him Jon, I mean your grace, the man who saved us in Harrenhal- milady, me and Hot Pie."
Uncaring of the looks they received, she slowly pulled the dagger out of his shoulder and wiped it on the sleeve of his tunic as he looked on with that familiar annoying smirk, those hooded eyes and she had to will her heart to not race at the sight.
"I didn't just learn from you, you know. I learned you."
She says at last and the proud smile on his face just grew annoying her even more.
"Why are you here?"
She asks him.
"Arya move aside."
She hears Jon and probably for the first time in her life does not listen to him.
"Stay where you are Jon. I am perfectly safe…or as safe as I can be. Trust me, if he wanted to harm me, it would have already happened and none of you could have stopped him."
"That the man who can kill with his littlefinger little she-wolf?"
The Hound asks her.
Stupid man, she thinks as Jaqen's smirk gets even more prominent and his eyes seem to be twinkling even more.
"Yes."
She lets out a frustrated hiss glaring at Cleagane.
"Why are you here? And I won't ask a third time."
She asks turning to Jaqen.
"A man is not here to harm anyone, lovely girl."
Two words….those two words and her heart stops….how long has it been since she listened to them, the way he purred two simple words in that ridiculously exotic Lorathi accent of his and turned her world around.
"Then what brought you here? Was it the worst winter known in living history, the prospect of looking upon dragons, the others or the idea of granting mercy to those who would beg for it once the war began?"
"None of those things, lovely girl…a man came here because his god willed him…just as it happened many, many years ago when a lovely girl crossed paths with him."
"And what does the god will for you to do this time? To finish a job left undone or deliver a sentence for the gifts stolen?"
"Neither of those lovely girl; a man is here to serve his god…to serve in a war which serves the one with Many Faces, for the ones you seek to fight against do not belong in the land of the living."
"And how many others has the god sent here besides you?"
"Many, many more lovely girl…" She hears Jaqen say and watches as he raises his hand and point towards the room.
"Those gathered in this room shall lead that army which is serving him of Many Faces. From your beloved brother, to the mother of dragons and the knight who was disgraced for an act of mercy and honor many see as his greatest crime, an unforgivable sin of Kingslaying yet it was the will of the one with Many Faces that made him act the way he did. They all are here by his will as is a man and a lovely girl."
She sees Jaime, Brienne exchange glances. Daenerys Targaryen and her hand Tyrion Lannister, suck in a breath as all their faces lose color.
She does not quite understand what Jaqen means but from the looks of people gathered in this room she isnt the only one with the confusion. Yet, yet there are those who acknowledge the truth of Jaqen's words and all it takes for her to know it is a glance at those four faces shaken by the words.
"How do you know?"
She hears the soft whisper of Jaime Lannister.
Jaqen merely smiles at him and she sees that unnerves the knight even more.
"I grant you did something really crazy there, but changing faces won't stop the dead. They are not going to stick around to watch your little magic show and so I don't believe when you spout your fake religious crap cunt. So forgive me for not believing in you. Besides why should we believe you? You don't even belong to Westeros, I can tell as much by your funny manner of speaking though I can't quite place where you are from."
"A man is from Lorath of the Free Cities and doesn't ask you to believe him. He is not here for you. For you are as much a servant here of him of the many faces as he is."
"I am no one's servant cunt."
Jaqen smiles at the man but there is an edge to it as he utters his next words.
"A man lies…for he has been a servant since the age of six when he made his first kill, when he took the life of a foul beast who was about to abuse him as he was sold…a man has been his servant even if he doesn't know."
Bronn's face loses color and she can see the man wants to throw up.
"Why are you here Ser… I am sorry but Lady Arya didn't let us know your name."
Finally, she hears the Queen speak up and for a moment it annoys her to be addresses as a lady but she stays silent.
"A man has the honor of being Jaqen H'Ghar Mother of Dragons; it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. A man is here for a lovely girl."
"You are not getting my sister. You will take her nowhere."
She hears Jon roar but all she can think of is Jaqen's words.
"A man isnt taking your sister anywhere King Snow, he is here to educate here in the arts she would need for you to win this battle."
"Why now? Why? What is left to teach her?"
Sansa speaks up from behind Jon.
"Your sister will learn many things Lady of Stark. She will learn arts that the Mother of Dragons has made brief introductions with – arts of Qohor and Asshai of lands distant and far from here."
"You are telling me you know those things and wish to teach them to Lady Arya in this war? But what good are illusions?"
"Forgive a man his directness but you merely had a taste of them – a taste of one aspect of them. An aspect designed to manipulate and create images that are a farce and yet, yet you cannot deny the power of those images. In those lands are arts that arent taught to everyone. You encountered merely a mummer who wished to rob you of your dragons. He was no servant of him of Many faces only a greedy mummer… but in this war you will need all the power that can help you defeat the one who is the face of true evil. A man simply wishes to help and it is thus that he wishes to instruct a lovely girl."
"Why not teach me in Braavos then? Why not teach me in the house itself Jaqen?"
She asks him and he looks at her with the strangest expression.
"Because lovely girl you had to stop hiding….because true powers of him of many faces can only be granted to those who are true to themselves and a lovely girl's truth is that she can never be 'No One', her truth is, she is Arya Stark of Winterfell. The daughter of North, whose veins have ice and heart, has fire. Only when a lovely girl was true to herself could she be sanctioned with powers that she will need. "
"What sort of powers?"
She hears Ser Davos speak up and she knows the man has a dislike to any magic and witchcraft just from his tone.
"Powers unlike those that robbed a little girl of her life before her time Ser Onion Knight be assured. Not all powers are of that kind, for where there is evil there is good too… for where there is fire there is ice as well."
She hears Ser Davos release a breath.
"Sam, get bandages for his wound will you please?"
She hears herself say and knows her decision.
She doesn't know it herself but somehow despite everything she trusts him even now. Something stopped her from killing him on the day she walked out on him and that very part of her is what tells her to trust him, to learn from him what he is here to teach.
Sam hurries out of the room and she gestures Jaqen to sit on the chair she had occupied a while back.
Blood has ruined his tunic and for a minute, she wants to scream at herself for hurting him so. She walks to the trolly that carries the food that the serving girls had brought in, picks up a piece of bread and some meat on a plate and walks upto him.
"Eat."
She commands her master all but thrusting the plate in his face.
He raises an eyebrow and she knows what he's thinking.
Huffing out, she looks at him astonishingly,
"For fucks sake Jaqen, I am not poisoning you."
Just to prove herself, she eats a bite from the plate she offers him.
He smirks at her and eats her leftover.
"A man simply wished to be careful of his most gifted apprentice. It's not a crime is it lovely girl not after he knows her culinary experties with pies and arbor gold treats?"
His words make color rush to her cheeks and she wants to kick him and kiss him in the same instant.
She would be damned though if she lets him bristle her.
"If that was my intention I wouldn't have asked Sam to nurse this just ensures your safety, now you have guest rights. No one will harm you in Winterfell as long as you stay here."
"A man thanks his lovely girl then. The Red Wedding had destroyed faith in guest rights as far as he knew."
"We are not the damn Freys Jaqen! You are in the house of a Stark!"
At her words Sam comes in with a kit but she can see the man is clearly terrified of Jaqen and in any other instance the sight of cowardice would infuriate her but she can see this isnt just any other instance. If anything, she believes Samwell Tarly is a wise man for keeping his distance even as he dances from one foot to another to help someone in his care.
"Give it to me Sam, it's alright."
She sees the man smile at her in relief and for some reason she gives him a small smile in return. She realizes she likes this man.
She walks up to Jaqen and starts working on his shoulder wound even as he eats.
"A man didn't mean to offend you lovely girl, he knows what honor means to a Stark, especially Arya Stark."
"Then why would you say that?"
She asks him brusquely and she realizes she is being harsher in cleaning his wound than she should be.
"A man thought a lovely girl is angry with him."
"You thought right but….doing something like that… that's not me…."
"A man apologizes lovely girl."
She looks at him but doesn't reply.
"Though in hindsight a man should have known better…for if a lovely girl's wolf didn't harm him she wouldn't too."
That gets her attention.
"You met her?"
She asks him with a gasp.
"Grey and fierce, strong and stubborn, with a pack she would protect, loyal and loving, beautiful and fearsome to behold….just like her mistress."
"Nymeria is alive?"
Sansa asks her.
"She is…I met her on the way north…she has a pack of her own and is taller than you, she didn't want to come home with me…I asked."
She whispers the last two words in a small voice.
"She will."
She hears the mother of dragons say with a smile.
"She sounds like my Drogon, he…he has a will of his own too and is very stubborn. The most fiercesome of my children but in my hour of greatest need I know he finds me somehow. Your direwolf will come to you too. Just be patient."
For the first time since her arrival, she smiles at the Queen and thinks she might like her…and not just because of the way, she sees Jon looks at her.
She applies the mix of herbs on his cut and looks at him.
"You are forgiven."
She hears herself say and wonders is there anything at all in this world for which she wouldn't forgive this man. She wonders when did he get under her skin so.
"Thank you."
He whispers to her in the softest of tones as his eyes find hers.
"Just don't make me repent this….else I would have you know…where Nymeria chose to let you live because she didn't want indigestion Ghost won't be so kind if I ask of him. He belongs to Jon but he would listen to me and direwolves don't have to follow the rules of guest rights."
"A man wouldn't do any such thing lovely girl though he must say, getting devoured by a wolf is surely the most interesting threat made to him in ages."
He murmurs softly as their eyes meet even as he has a little laugh.
She wipes her hand on a spare piece of cloth along with the kit as she answers him.
"Tempt your fate too much and you would find the jaws of one sinking into your skin. We will discuss it then how interesting that can be. For now let's begin whatever this training is."
He merely smirks as he gets up from the chair.
As they walk out of the room, Jon is sure he hears the Lorathi say something he doesn't understand nor Arya's reply to him.
Daenerys turns to Missandei and he sees the girl blush as she says what the words meant.
"Oh…it can be an interesting prospect, lovely girl, given the right wolf's teeth are involved in sinking into a man's skin."
"I should kill him."
He yells to no one in particular and he can see the sentiment echo in Gendry and Sandor Cleagane.
"Your sister replied to him in the same tongue Lord Snow, she…"
"She said what?"
"She said… a man must be careful in what he wishes for he might just get what he asked for and a wolf would devour him quite thoroughly."
"I can't say I would blame the wolf for wanting to devour that prey."
He hears Daenerys comment.
He turns to look at her and before he can open his mouth, he hears his sister reply…
"I never knew Lorath had such tempting dishes to offer myself."
"I wish we had visited Lorath Missandei on our way to Westeros."
"Perhaps when the war is won Khaleesi we might do so."
He hears the queens' advisor reply making Grey Worm lose his stern look and glower at the girl for once.
"Maybe Lady Sansa would like to join us."
"I would be delighted your grace. Brienne would be with us too. Won't you Brienne?"
"I would love it Lady Sansa."
The tall woman replies.
And in what might be their first ever moment of agreement - Jon Snow, Jaime Lannister, Grey Worm and Ser Jorah all walk out of the room.
"We will continue this meeting later."
Jon Snow says as he walks out.
"Bloody Lorathis."
Their unified proclamation of disgust echoing in the halls.