Dark as Ebony
Jaqen/Arya Fic
The older assassin rolled over on the over-stuffed mattress, only to get a face full of long dark, scented hair. The sudden tickling sensation stirred him to wake, causing him to leave another memory-like dream. The smell of the hair brought him back completely when he recognized the scent. Sweat with a hint of sandalwood and roses. An odd combination that didn't make for a bad lovemaking.
With a faint smile, he took a lock of hair and inhaled the scent once more before kissing it, and sitting up. For the first time since stepping in the room, he finally got a chance to look around. A little cramped with the tub in the same room as the bed. Jaqen rubbed his face, removing any trace of being tired away. He sighed heavily before lazily sliding his legs off the bed, going to stand up. He had a flash back to his dream and wiped some sweat that formed, away.
"What kind of dream puts a man in sweat?" Jaqen whispered to himself, hoping not to wake his sleeping lover.
"What's wrong, Jaqen?" A tired Westerosi accent came from behind the grown man. He soon felt the bed creak under the second person's weight. He turned his head to see who it was exactly.
It was none other than Arya Stark, the girl who had now become a woman. Jaqen sighed happily in relief.
"Nothing a girl needs to worry about. A girl needs rest. Lay back down." He faced his feet when he finished speaking. Arya frowned and huffed from behind him.
"A girl is now a woman." She mocked in his speech. "Need I remind you of last night? Or do you need a different reminder?" Ah yes. This was the Arya Jaqen remembered well. She had scarcely changed since becoming a Faceless Woman.
"Just a dream." Jaqen looked back, while Arya's frown remained. She draped her arms around his neck and hung off him. Nineteen or not, she was still as stubborn as a Stark.
"Not 'just a deam'. You were tossing almost all night." She had a concerned tone to he voice. He thought it odd for her to worry about him at all. After all, their jobs were much more troublesome than some dream ever was.
"A man may not remember his first life, but he certainly has a lot of dreams of a time with a different face. These are not normal dreams, Arya Stark, they are a type of memory I cannot remember alone without sleep." Jaqen admitted. Arya blinked for a moment, letting the new information sink in.
"Could you tell me about them?" She always had an odd fascination with his stories. With a heavy sigh, Jaqen nodded.
"First, lay down."
"The first dream a man remembers contains a girl a lot like you. Though her own face seems to have faded from my thoughts at the moment, I know her in my dreams. A name, I cannot recall, but I do remember the dream in which happened." Jaqen thought for a moment. This couldn't make logical sense. The dream he had was of her in his bed, tightly in his arms, and yet, why did he sleep with so many women since than if she was there? The dreams gave no real explanation as to why he still felt empty with every other woman he slept with.
"Did you sleep with her?" Arya asked, from being forced to lay beside him. Jaqen looked to her confused, but when he went t respond, he couldn't be certain.
"Hard to say. A man can't seem to distinguish between past dream and memory." His face contorted into the oddest thing Arya has ever seen. She could help but chuckle at it.
Though Arya was laughing at him, Jaqen was utterly confused. Did he sleep with the beautiful woman he doesn't remember, or is that the empty feeling he gets when he remembers the other women?
"Well, then don't go into too much detail. I'd rather not tear a strip off you in jealousy at midnight." Arya said, glancing out a window, noticing it was still dark and not a single light lit the streets of Braavos. Jaqen sighed before returning his attention to the young woman beside him, begging for a story.
"Well, after a dream with a woman with hair close to ebony, comes one with a girl, different in shape and face. She has hair a dark brown, a face small and round, with a body to match. A man took her out to treat her after some men tricked her. A man cannot remember what tricked her exactly, but he does remember the amount of drinks that were had. After all, this dream ends in the same thing all the others do. A passionate night of empty, meaningless lovemaking." Jaqen felt his voice go hollow at the last sentence. Even Arya could sense something wasn't right. These dreams really were empty and confusing.
"All these faces and colours of hair, and yet none could match the beauty and a man's longing for the girl of almost ebony hair. A man remembers she had grey-blue eyes and a fancy for another man." At that, Jaqen sunk in the bed. He could barely believe he just said that himself. Though his face didn't show his emotion then, it was thick in the air around him, almost like a weight on Arya's lungs.
"Um, Jaqen? I know my opinion may not matter right now, but why did you care for her so much? I mean, if she liked someone else, why didn't you just get over it?" Her small voice ended in a yawn of exhaustion. The assassin looked at her with an unreadable gaze.
"A girl does not understand. That is what a man was trying to do, with all those women, and faces, he was hoping to forget hers. Yet why does it haunt me so? Will this endless torture ever slow? Another night like this, another fantasy. Or a memory. A man may never know." By this point, Arya's heart was thumping hard against the side of Jaqen's body, causing him to stir from his thoughts and look down at her.
"Is a girl alright?" Arya looked up at him with her own grey-blue eyes with a realization look to her face.
"Am I just another girl for another fantasy, to try and be rid of that face? Am I just a toy in your memory game?" Her tone grew more and more louder, with fury on every word. "Are you just using me because I look like her?!" She sat up and pounded at his chest, not too hard to break a rib, but not soft enough to escape bruising. Jaqen caught her flying fists with his larger ones and held her hands in his for a short minute before she yanked them out, crossing her arms in a huff.
"Arya, you do not think a man would use a girl for sex, do you really? A man had no intention of using a girl. If a man had used a girl, would he not have left by now? Would he not insist on a girl's arms wrapped around his body? You see, a man needs only what is never given to him." He gently took her hand and placed it on his chest. Arya looked back and scanned her hands.
"... Love?"
"Exactly. A man is an assassin. Who in Essos or Westeros would love an assassin the way a girl has?" Jaqen released her hands, but she didn't move them. She smiled slighlty and turned more around, leading her head into his shoulder. Jaqen pet her hair, causing her smile to widen slightly. She was the thing to plug the hole left from the first girl with hair as dark as ebony. Arya matched the description, but she was much more than just that. Jaqen knew Arya, and befriended her long before she was appealing. He laid back down after realizing this fact and sighed heavily.
"A man must leave by tomorrow. He has duties in Westeros to attend to." He kissed her head softly when he looked up to him.
"Then can no one come with him?" Arya asked, a grin stretched across he face. Jaqen knew she wouldn't let him leave alone or at least without vowing to hurt him when she saw him next. He chuckled and nodded.
"No one can come with a man, but she must keep up. A man is still more than he seems."