Chapter 2

It was a gloomy afternoon, the sky resembling the color of Arya's eyes and the trees rustling as a stream of cold air looms over. Arya, not having a bath for three days, is praying for a rain. She could smell herself from her filthy, lousy blouse, and her hair sticking all over her face and her bony nape.

Their group stopped to set a camp.

"Let me cook!" Pale insisted and glowers at Hot Pie. She placed both hands on her hips and fixed her eyes to him, as if daring him to deny her. Hot Pie stepped in front of the wooden table where his pots, cutting boards, half-peeled potatoes are laid out and puffed his stuffed chest.

"Yoren made me the cook!" He proudly said.

"You cook longer than usual!" She whined, earning various nods from the growing crowd. "We don't care bout' the meats so thinly and precisely cut.." and then snatches the ladle from Hot pie's left hand and smack it lightly in his right cheek. "And we don't care bout' the taste either as long as it's hot!" Another slap, left cheek this time "Now, move aside, kid." Hot Pie only grunts, no longer have a choice for Pale took a knife and waved it at him like it wasn't sharp, gesturing him to go away. Pale, like everybody else watching the scene, stifles a laugh as they noticed how truly annoyed Hot pie is getting while caressing his reddening cheeks.

"Oh Hot pie, did I hurt your cheeks?..." She cooed and kneads them earning rich chuckles around. "Your poor chubby cheeks…." Embarrassed and irritated for the mocking, he growled and spluttered his next words

"Women! Always getting what they want!" And then stomped away

Before Arya could stop herself, she remembers Rickon doing the same thing whenever she refused to carry him on her back before running to their Father. Father. Her chest tightens. Slow breaths. Breathe again.

"What are you doing?" Pale asked

"Nothing. You need something?"

"Hmmm. You could start pouring them ale." Arya grabs the pitcher under the wooden table and ask if she's alright doing all the cooking. "Very much. Thanks for asking, sweetheart. Go on now, I'll be finished in no time." She assures her and glanced around. "And maybe I'll slip a few more meat and potatoes too in your bowl."

"More ale, pimple!" Rorge demanded Arya and spits at her.

"You already had enough and I'm not your servant, you filth!" Arya exploded and kicked at the wagon. Jaqen suppress a laugh. Lovely boy never failed to amuse him. Before another quarrel breaks out, he interjected.

"A man is curious." And then looked meaningfully at Rorge and Biter who are still waiting for their ale that would never come, implying he doesn't want them to hear whatever he's curious about. They caught his eye and crawled at the far corner. But not before Rorge muttering "you little shit and fucking pimple" to Arya.

Jaqen continued "A man could not stop wondering, what a lovely boy, so young and small, could have done to end up with a herd of criminals and to be sworn to the Nightwatch?"

"I killed one fat boy." The Lorathi raised his eyebrows and mutters "Interesting. And what about your family?"

"Don't have one anymore" she replied in a neutral voice. Careful and calm. She thought. "More ale?" He held his tankard out of the wagon. After a sip or two, the Lorathi questions her again.

"Aren't you afraid of a man, lovely boy?"

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Perhaps, you should…" Feeling discomfort where their conversation is going, she dismissed him with a shrug and ought to walk away but the Lorathi called out quietly before she could take her third step. "Lovely girl,…"

Arya immediately stopped and stood still but felt no surprise. She was already aware that he knows for a long time now. Not just her being a girl but also a Stark. Inexperienced she may be, but not stupid. She thought if she shows him she means no harm, offering him what she could offer, befriending him even, she thought he would not mention it and would keep his mouth closed. She faced Jaqen but avoided his eyes. Please. Don't. Not now. Now that I'm so closed to Jon. She panics. Looking down gravely to the ground, she softly asked him. "What would you do now?"

"The question, lovely girl, is what would you do now?" She did not hear the sadness and full curiosity in his voice. Only the threat coming in her path

Gods, what would I do? Not a single thing came to mind but her family.

"Now, what are you two arguing this time?" Catelyn Stark entered the kitchen, Father and all their brothers trailing behind "Sure all North as well as the South could hear you both screaming!"

"Look at what Arya have done, mother!" Sansa angrily showed a tattered gown and dripping with brown liquid. Soy sauce, their mother could tell. "This is what I would wear at the dance tomorrow night! I heard- "

"You heard," Arya cut off her sister "that Joffrey fancies blue and gold that was why you insist your dressmaker to-"

"To create one," continued Jon with a grin "In spite that those colours are not commonly worn in a royal celebration and that-" He looked at Rob and wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully

"And that if he saw you in that ludicrous gown, dear Prince would not have a second thought that yes you are dearest and charming and surely destined to be a Queen." The eldest had finished contently. Not quite finished yet, Arya and Bran stepped over their dining table and shouted playfully "And we unfortunately heard and we heartily do not care!"

"Mowr, Mowr" Rickon bubbles incomprehensively asking for more and claps while clinging at their Father's leg.

All she wanted is to reunite her family but why does the world appears to be against it? What have their family had done to receive such…misfortune? Everywhere she looked, there's always an enemy, a threat that should be eliminated.

"I will burn your damn cage." she simply said and lifts up her gaze to Jaqen. "I'll stand here outside and watch as flames swallow you whole. I'll watch them creep deep into your bones and turn you into ashes." She moves across Jaqen. "And if there any remains of you….I will bury you myself with all of my secrets."

Time stopped. Neither of them moves nor looked away until a thunder struck and droplets of rain started to fall. Without another word, Arya strolls into the woods, trembling and stunned of herself. Maybe she had gone too far. Maybe this isn't the way to defend herself.

Under the murky sky, she promised Jaqen one thing. His death. Gone was the little girl Jaqen first saw; shocked, disarranged, grieving and broken.

He saw it in her eyes.

He felt it.

Arya Stark could kill him.

And she would.

A/N The next chapter would be a continuation but there would be no Jaqen, only Arya and Pale. I want to introduce Pale to you guys. Thanks to those who favorited and followed already. Means much to me J