Game of Thrones is the property of George R.R. Martin. All characters and concepts are the property of their respective creators. No copyright infringement is intended, or profit made, from this work of fiction.

'Where are we?' Arya asked as she followed Syrio down the gangplank from the ship onto the docks, wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of fish that mingled with the salt air.

'The Free City of Pentos.' Syrio said, without looking round, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. 'A grim place, certainly, but there is always work to be found here. Come.'

Arya followed him down the street, unconsciously tightening her own sword belt and checking that Needle was safely in it's scabbard. All around them, stalls and tents stood in the shade of every wall and building, swarthy, dark men and women selling things at the top of their voices, although Arya's bravossi wasn't good enough to translate exactly what they were saying. She was so enthralled by the sights and smells that she didn't notice that Syrio had put out his arm until she walked into it.

'Hey...'

'Quiet, girl.' Syrio snapped and Arya looked up to see four men advancing towards them. Three of them were dressed in dark green tunics, over which they wore black breastplates and helmets,swords at their waists. The fourth, who stood in front of the group, was wearing a domed helmet with a white plume.

'You are Syrio Forel.' One of them said, as the four guards stopped in front of them, his tone making it clear that it was not a question. 'Once First Sword to the Sealord of Braavos.'

'Who I am is my own business.' Syrio said and the guard smiled, mirthlessly.

'I am Captain Denakh. My Master, the Lord Yuksel Karatas, asks that you come with us.'

'Tell your Master that he is a snake and that I do not work for snakes.' Syrio said and Denakh's eyes narrowed.

'No-one refuses Lord Karatas. Take him.'

There was a rasp of steel as the four guards drew their swords, advancing towards Syrio who stood calmly with his hands held away from his side. One guard stepped closer, reaching out for him and there was a whisper as Syrio drew his blade and stabbed him in the leg. As the man screamed and collapsed, Syrio spun, his sword slicing across the throat of the next guard. The third managed a clumsy blow which Syrio deflected, reversing his sword and plunging it through the gap in his breast plate. The Captain tightened his grip on his sword, stepping forward with a savage overhand blow that Syrio dodged, dropping in a crouch to kick his legs from under him. As the man fell, Syrio plunged his blade through his neck and he died with a rattling cough.

'Come, child.' Syrio said, wiping his blade clean and returning it to it's sheath. 'It is time for us to disappear.'

Arya nodded, wordlessly and, with a glance back at the bodies, followed him into the alley...

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Any reviews, comments or constructive criticisms very welcome.