A/N: I'm back again, fueled by how much I love this pairing! This story will loosely follow the plot of the show in the first couple chapters. Also I raised Arya's age to eighteen.

Chapter 1

For the past month, crashing waves had been my lullaby before sleep and what nudged me into waking. Except now. This morning seagulls were what pulled me from my dreams of soft snow and warm hearths.

I hate seagulls. They're the stupidest birds alive. Also they're loud, and they're annoying.

Wait.

I tore off my blankets and slid my feet from the bed and onto the swaying sea bound floor, standing abruptly. Too fast- I wobbled and crashed into the tiny drawer that stood next to my tiny bed. I grabbed it for support to keep from smacking my head into the opposite wall. In this room, 'cramped' would be a compliment.

Seagulls mean land.

A week ago I had fooled myself into thinking we'd reached Braavos because of the sound of seagulls. But we had just been sailing close to the shoreline due to an oncoming storm, and still very far away from the captain's home.

Waiting a few moments, my ears began picking up new sounds. I dropped Needle into my belt as I listened. There were at least ten pairs of feet running around on the deck above, dragging heavy ropes and...anchors? And huge bells tolling far in the distance, which could only mean a harbor.

Yes!

I ran from my room and up the stairs to the deck above. It was late into the morning and the sun was shining through tufts of bright clouds. The captain stood at the back of the ship, admiring the scene before him. I bounded up to him. Together we watched the ship glide along the river and through mountains, as an enormous stone figure came into view.

My first glimpse of Braavos was a towering warrior, wielding his sword and shield at the sun.

"In old times whenever Braavos stood in danger, the Titan would step with fire in his eyes. He'd wade into the sea and smash the enemies." The captain's voice was gruff but kind. The pride he felt for his homeland was obvious.

I smiled in a teasing way. "He's just a statue." A statue that stood far above even the highest place on this ship. It would take two hundred ships stacked on top of each other to touch the stone man's nose. Despite my dismissal, I believed there might be something inside the frozen man who looked over the horizon and gave no mind to the small travelers below. He reminded me of the man I was hoping to find in this city.

Suddenly the sound of a horn blared across the water, signaling our coming. I jumped and clutched Needle's handle.

"Don't be afraid" the captain laughed. "He's announcing our arrival"

"I'm not afraid" I said quietly. But as the ship passed under the warrior and the city finally came into view, I realized I would be facing a definite challenge here. How could I find one man in this labyrinth? Not to mention a man who could make himself unseen at a moment's notice. A breathing shadow.

Jaqen H'ghar.

The sun sparkled off pale marble homes that lined the harbor beyond the old wooden docks. I heard the captain take in air and let out a content sigh. I went to the railing and peered over. Our ship sailed along the docks now, I could see people of Braavos buying wares and talking about business or gossip.

The scent of warm spices wafted to me and I was hit with a rush of memories of the Faceless Man. He smelled just like this. I wish I could find where it was coming from. Most likely it was from many places, a combination of the herbs and flowers which ran through the market place and along the streets. It lay in a place somewhere between candor and charm. Jaqen smelled like this even when sunk deep in the middle of Westeros, as if he'd brought a piece of this city with him.

"Three lives I will give you. No more, no less. Then we're done."

"I can name anyone? And you'll kill him?"

"A man has said."

It was part of the reason I had trusted him in the beginning. I hated every man and woman in Westeros then, but I could tell that Jaqen was different. His tone could be mocking but his honor was sound.

The ship jerked on a sudden impact.

"Arya! Come help the men and I lower these ropes!" the captain called from the deck below. I unhooked my arms from the railing, realizing we had finally stopped moving for the first time in weeks. I shook the memories from my mind.

No time for that now.

I busied myself with grabbing large armfuls of rope and throwing it overboard to the men waiting on the docks below, followed by a couple of the smaller anchors. Then I quickly retrieved what little possessions I had brought onto the boat from my room.

"C'mon down!" The captain called as I emerged onto the deck again. He climbed a rope latter down onto the docks. "See the city for yourself"

As soon as my boots hit the dock I was alarmed by the lack of swaying. The captain started bellowing with laughter as my body moved around on its own, trying to compensate for what it had become used to.

"It's not funny!" I yelled.

"Nothing like your first dismount after a long while on the sea. I was eight when it happened to me but, we can't all be perfect."

The crew and I spent the remaining hours of the day wandering around the marketplace while the captain sorted out his cargo with the merchants. I had only a handful of coins with me, or I would've purchased one of the little daggers I saw at a booth perched outside a weathered store. "The handles are made of dragonbone, you see? Touch them! Go on!" the vendor had exclaimed at me as I walked by.

One of the sailors nudged me in the ribs as we passed the booth. His name was Marl, and he was one of the only few people on the ship who had cared to talk with me from time to time. "He's the real deal, you know. They say even the Faceless Men buy wares at his shop." The mention of Faceless Men sent a quick shutter of nerves through me, though thankfully Marl was already looking ahead and hadn't noticed.

A couple of streets later one or two of the men suggested we turn in for the night, as some of the street lamps had begun to flicker to make up for lost daylight. I hadn't been paying attention, this place was unlike anything I had seen in Westeros. Even King's Landing seemed dull by comparison. Part of me wished I could come back tomorrow to revel in the atmosphere again, but my goals were clear in my mind. Find Jaqen. Train to become a Faceless Man. Sail back to Westeros as a deadly assassin seeking vengeance.

The crew and I ate together in a tavern close by the docks that overlooked the golden sea. I watched the sun set over a warm bowl of vegetable soup. The walls rang with laughter as the crewmen recounted tales of the expedition home to anyone who would listen. This tavern, along with every other on the boardwalk, was packed full of people. I constantly felt soft cloths brushing by or hard bumps into my shoulder as people walked past the table, looking for an open place to sit. This din and shifting crowd made it hard to focus on what wasn't abruptly in front of me. Yet I felt the tiny hairs on my neck prickle after a large crowd pushed by.

I glanced around and locked eyes with an old man sitting in a corner across the room. He was haggard looking, probably evidence of too many days in the harsh sun. And not enough money to fill in hollow cheeks. He peered at me under eyebrows that resembled the craggy grasses in Winterfell. I furrowed my own eyebrows at him.

I heard Marl laugh to my left. "Already finding people to glare at?"

"It's not my fault, he was staring!"

"Who was staring?"

I looked back at where the old man had been, only to find an empty seat.

"But he was just-"

"Listen Arya, you're a foreigner here. Don't make enemies before you've got any friends." Marl gave me a stern look, but smiled a few seconds after. "I'm going to miss you when I go back on the seas. Promise you'll survive until the next time we get back."

I glanced sideways at the sailor. He was tall and strong, perfect for the life he had been given. I wasn't good at judging a man's handsomeness, but he seemed to attract enough attention from people. Though, he usually appeared embarrassed whenever someone became more upfront with him. In that way he reminded me of Jon, and I decided I was going to miss him as well.

"I promise."

"Right then, I think it's time we all got to sleep since we'll be sailing out tomorrow morning. Captain, say hi to your wife for us, alright? We're gonna miss you on this route, especially since the other chief nearly ran us into rocks the last time."

In a short time everyone was tucked into the feather beds that occupied the rooms upstairs. I knew this would be the last night of hospitality I would receive from the captain. Tomorrow I'd have to either find Jaqen or a means to gain some coin while I remained here. For the moment I was just grateful to have my own room. The snoring men could've kept me awake for hours.

Instead I heard waves rushing up onto cooling sands, seagulls giving their final cry of the day, and low conversations under the light of street lanterns. Slight breezes drifted through my open window and caused the curtains to rustle slightly. Everything about this place was whispering and dark, but not totally invisible. If a man could resemble a city, then Jaqen H'ghar was Braavos. I drifted off to sleep with thoughts of red and silver hair.

XXXX

"Alright then old man, do we have an agreement?"

A sharp voice snapped in my ear. I could feel the merchant's eyes on me face as I stared into the crowd, the setting sun giving a final crackle of energy to the people of Braavos. Gold coins jingled impatiently in a leather bag and then the whole thing dropped onto the small table between us. I think it was meant to grab for my attention.

"A man has already agreed, and a conversation becomes repetitive" I said, feeling irritated. This was a simple assassination job with the target a wealthy but otherwise unimportant figure. Not to mention that something so much more interesting had recently caught my attention.

"How long do I have to wait then for uh- you know, for it to happen?" The stout man's dark beard shook with what I could guess was part fear and part anticipation. I rolled my eyes toward him.

"Time is not a guaranteed thing. A man can promise only death, and a merchant will get what he has paid for. That is all." I took the bag of gold from the table and gave him a warning look. The merchant huffed in irritation and stood. He glared down at me, as if that would make the job go faster, and then disappeared into the blur of people.

I was alone now and glad for it. This tavern was brimming with colorful people, and one man far past his prime and sitting by himself in a corner would garner no interest from others. Across the room sat a large group of newly shored sailors, the salt scent on them was clear. A table of strong, handsome, capable men.

And one girl with eyes like fire.

Arya Stark.

Her hair was cut short and shaggy like a boy's. Strands fell in her face often and she had to brush them away. I'm sure many in this tavern mistook her as a boy as they shoved roughly past her table. It was an honesty mistake, really. She laughed and yelled with the men as if she were a newly appointed cabin boy.

But I knew the moment she entered the tavern. The minute she sat at the edge of the long table. In her first smiling glance at their captain as the orange sun rays danced across her face. It could only be this girl, the wolf of Winterfell.

My face was not one she had seen before. It had once belonged to an old Braavosi man from years ago. This face featured hard eyes, a twice broken nose, and a cascade of wrinkles from forehead to collarbone. It concealed my identity well, and I watched Arya quietly without fear of her noticing.

She seemed different, but I did not know if that was due to hardships endured or just the general progression of aging. Most likely a combination of both.

Suddenly, her eyes flicked up and stared straight into mine. For a cold moment I thought the mask had disappeared but…that was impossible. She could only see an old man, looking out from a shadowed corner. Another man nudged her and broke her stare for a brief moment. It was all I needed to meld into a passing crowd.

The cool outside air greeted me and I turned to walk along the docks. The final rays of sun were lowering into the sea and candlelight flickered inside glass lanterns. It was a half hour's walk to the House of Black and White, though I decided to opt for a longer route. This city's streets were no mystery to me and I needed time to think.

So, the young wolf has come to Braavos.

Why was she here? I had extended an invitation to train her years ago in Harrenhal. She had chosen instead to set out to find her mother and brothers.

But she had also been on a path to find vengeance. Perhaps that was the reason, to seek out the life of someone in the city who had wronged her. In that case I should stay away. It was not the way of the Faceless Men to become involved in the affairs of others. Even if those affairs centered on a girl whom I had once watched over.

Faceless Men do not concern themselves with the lives of others unless gold is involved. I am to serve the Many Faced God above all else.

But I also knew that a skilled apprentice was worth her weight in gold. This was a tricky situation. I could not ask Arya to join me for a second time. However, if she was looking for Jaqen H'ghar after all then I would be clear to invite her in.

Tomorrow I will find out the wolf's intentions.

A/N: Alrighty first chapter done! Let me know what you think, all comments are welcome!