Chapter 11
Arya woke up in her sleeping cell and felt numb as she remembered what had happened. She turned over and threw up into her bedpan. Jaqen. Jaqen had left her. He had decided, he didn't want to see her anymore, and had left Braavos waiting for her to disappear from his life. He didn't love her after all, or at least not enough. She fought back tears and struggled not to spiral into the darkness again. Suddenly she grew angry. Coward! He had whispered words of love in her ear all night, and then he had had a change of heart and had run away; he didn't even have the decency to tell her to her face. She sat up in bed, but immediately felt dizzy and sick. She threw up again, and fell back into bed. It was her own fault. She had pushed him too far; she had accused him time and again of not wanting her. No wonder he grew tired with her childish behavior. She sobbed into her pillow, her body shaking violently with grief and embarrassment. She would never again be so stupid or fragile. She was a Stark, a wolf. She would go home, back to Winterfell, to Sansa, Rickon and Bran… she thought the Kindly Man had mentioned he Hound, but either that was a mistake, or she would have easy access to crossing one person of her list. She got up, emptied her bedpan and began packing.
She stood aboard a ship back to Westeros the next day. She had talked to the Kindly Man, who had agreed this was for the best. They both knew, she would never become no one. He had given her the money, that were rightfully hers after her assignments, and she was surprised at how many there were. She thought, she was probably expected to give some of them to the Gods, but she felt she owed them nothing. The Kindly Man had given her a wonderful horse as a parting gift, and she had packed all of her belongings – which weren't many. She had feared she would be too sick to travel, as she had once again vomited repeatedly this morning, but it seemed to have been a reaction to the past two days, as she was feeling better now. The only thing she regretted as the ship sailed out was her moment of weakness this morning, as she had snuck into Jaqen's sleeping cell, while everyone else was still asleep. Not only had she left him a note under his pillow, she had also stolen one of the tunics, he had left behind. He had worn it but not yet had it cleaned. Back in her room she had buried her face in it, crying into his scent lingering on the tunic, until she had gotten ill again. She shrugged; there was no changing it now. She was on her way home to the people who loved her, and she would have to forget about Jaqen. In time the pain would have to lessen.
Arya spend every morning aboard the ship fighting seasickness, which was still better than the hours spend during the day, where she had nothing to occupy her thoughts, and pictures of Jaqen kept creeping into her mind. But her intent to stay the Wolf, strong and proud, fell apart during the time at sea. She had no appetite, and all though she felt worst in the mornings, she could barely eat anything during the day. She was afraid to go to sleep because of the dreams – or rather because she was afraid to wake up from the dreams. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him, felt his arms around him and heard him whispering "my lovely girl" and "my love". Sometimes she couldn't fight sleep and when she woke up, she could still feel his hands on her body, his breath on her skin, and no matter how much she wanted to be angry or forget him, it made her crumble and dissolve in sobs and tears. She wanted to hate him but instead, she hated herself for her weakness. During the day she stayed in her cabin, and only at night would she go out on deck, when there would be peace and quiet, and the salty wind blew her mind empty.
Back in her cabin she would curl up in bed and try to focus on returning to Winterfell and seeing her siblings. The Kindly Man had told her Sansa had married the Hound, and he had helped her regain Winterfell by forming an alliance with the Dragon Queen, Daenerys Targaryen. She knew, she should have been shocked, she should concentrate on her list of vengeance, but she was indifferent to it now. She held Jaqen's tunic to her face and tried to feel any of the feelings of anger, revenge and defiance Arya had felt, but all she could feel was a deep, dark void.
From where the boat docked Arya should be able to reach Winterfell within three days. She had planned to spend the nights at inns on the way, but after the first night she decided, she didn't need the dreams the nights spend in warm beds offered her. She still threw up every time she tried to eat, so she had stopped trying and instead sipped water. The second night she drove the horse to keep on riding through the night, trying to think of nothing but Winterfell. As it dawned she saw Winterfell in front of her, and in her exhaustion she thought she saw Jaqen ride towards her. She smiled and slumped over the horse's neck as he reached her.
Sandor had seen a rider approach Winterfell, and had quickly mounted his horse to go see, if it was friend or foe. It had seemed harmless enough, a lone rider, probably a common traveler, and as he came nearer he saw a girl smile and slump over. He jumped of his horse and caught the unconscious girl in his arms, just before she fell to the ground. He turned her in his arms and brushed the hair out of her face before he froze: "Little Wolf?" He held the girl in one of his huge arms, and used the other to swing them both onto his horse, before he rode back to Winterfell yelling for Sansa.
Arya stayed unconscious for almost two days, Sansa barely leaving her side. She turned and tossed and cried out for Jaqen, and Sansa felt helpless, not knowing where her sister had come from or what had happened to her. She had never given up hope that Arya was alive, but she had over the last years given up hope, of ever seeing her again. She thanked the gods for bringing back her sister, and prayed for her recovery.
Finally Arya opened her eyes and Sansa took her hand saying her name. Arya looked confused for a moment and then broke down crying. Sansa held Arya while her body shook with sobs, whispering words of assurance, wondering what had happened to break her sister. Arya of all people, who had always been defiant and lively. As she calmed down, Sansa dried Arya's eyes with her hands and went to the door, where she called out, that Arya was awake. Bran and Rickon came to her room, placed themselves next to her, cradling her, and Aria broke down again. As she looked up, she saw The Hound standing in the door, holding a child. It looked so misplaced Arya's sobs turned to laughter and she pointed to the Hound: "What is he..he.. doing?" she cramped over in laughter. Sansa smiled and walked over to Sandor: "Arya, you know Sandor and this is our son Ned". Arya stopped laughing: "You really married the Hound?"
"I did" Sansa answered "He took care of me when I was at The Red Keep, and later he found me and took me away from Littlefinger. Without him, we would not have been able to take back Winterfell". Arya looked at the Hound "You killed Mycah" she said tired "Aye, that I did little Wolf, and you left me for dead". "I did" said Arya and looked at the baby: "Ned?" she asked, "like dad?" Sansa nodded. Arya suddenly looked around: "I need a bedpan!" she said before she threw up next to the bed.
Over the next days Sansa spent as much time with her sister as possible. The boys came in and out of her room at all times, and the Hound stuck his head in and mumbled something every now and then. Sansa already knew some of what had happened to Arya from Sandor, but she tried to get her to talk about the time from when she left Sandor for dead and now. Arya answered vaguely, and instead Sansa told her about her life at the Red Keep, about Sandor, her time posing as Littlefinger's bastard daughter, and how the Hound had found her and helped her form bonds with the Dragon Queen and regaining Winterfell; how Rickon and Bran had been found and brought home, how she enjoyed motherhood and how she missed their parents. As the days went by, Arya seemed to recover somewhat, and they went for daily walks, every day walking a bit further. Sandor always walked behind them, giving them space to talk in private but keeping close enough, so he could carry Arya home when she collapsed. Sansa kept waiting for her sister to become the Arya she had known, the wild and untamable Arya, but she had to admit Sandor had been right, when he had told her something had broken the Little Wolf.
After only a month away Jaqen returned to the House of Black and White. He was very satisfied with having accomplished the assignment so swiftly, and was quite nervous how angry his lovely girl would be, that he had not managed to find her before leaving. He felt a deja-vu as he had to force himself to walk slowly up to the House, and hoped he would find her inside.
He walked slowly through the main hall, looking for her as the Kindly Man came towards him. "A man sees a brother returning from a job well done", the Kindly Man said. Jaqen gave a small bow of the head and replied: "A man has returned and must give thanks to the Many Faced God for the gifts he has bestowed". The Kindly Man had a flicker in his eyes, almost as if he was nervous. "A man should come into the room of the guild to receive some news". Jaqen didn't show his surprise as he followed the Kindly Man into the room and sat down in front of him. The Kindly Man took a deep breath before starting "A man knows his brother has had a special interest in a girl, who is now again known as Arya Stark", Jaqen felt frozen as the Kindly Man continued: "The girl chose to leave for her childhood home, the day after a man went on his assignment. We received word her sister and younger brothers were alive and well, and had retaken Winterfell, and the girl chose to leave us, and go live with her family". The Kindly Man could see all color drain from Jaqen's face. "Did she.." Jaqen's voice gave out on him, and he cleared his throat: "Did she leave a message for me?" The Kindly Man shook his head. "No brother, there was no message". Jaqen sat staring into the air, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his lovely girl had left. He had hardly been able to wait until he was back with her, holding her in his arms, feeling her lips press against his. Had she been angry with him? But she knew he had to go whenever the guild gave him an assignment. He looked at the Kindly Man again and threw some of his caution away; she must have talked to the Kindly Man before leaving "Did she talk to you before leaving? Did she mention me, brother? Does she wait for me at Winterfell?" The Kindly Man looked saddened as he answered: "She does not wait for the man she calls Jaqen; she made it very clear he was not a part of her life as Arya, and that she thought him to be an honorable man, who was bound to the House of Black and White by his vows". Jaqen felt nothing. He could not move, could not think. He felt as if he was watching himself from the outside without having any control over the person he was watching. He sat staring into the air long after the Kindly Man had left. At some point during the night he got up and walked to her sleeping cell. It was empty. All her things were gone. Jaqen sat down on her bed, stroking the sheets, before he lay down and found a faint scent of her, still lingering. He heard someone yell her name and realized it was him. He lay there for hours trying to keep breathing, still without being able to form a coherent thought. All he could do was try to keep breathing, although he wasn't sure, he wanted to without her. As the morning came he gathered her bedding in his arms and carried it to his own sleeping cell, folded it together and moved his pillow to put her bedding down. He watched in frozen amazement as a piece of paper from under his pillow flew up and landed on the floor. He watched himself pick up the paper and read it. He didn't understand the words his lovely girl had written. She was sorry he didn't love her, but she still loved him? She would respect his wish not to find her here? She would never bother him again and wished him a long and happy life? Something was not right. Had she not received his letter? He read the note over and over again. In his mind he went through the day, where he had left. The extraordinary meeting of the guild; how everybody had agreed without discussion that he was the only one, who could deal with this urgent matter; how he had not been able to find her, to say goodbye. How his fellow faceless men had caught up with him, hurrying him to get away... Suddenly things added up in a very different way. What had they done to his lovely girl? He jumped up, grabbed his sword and ran out of his room screaming with rage.
At Winterfell Sansa ran into Arya's room, shaking her awake from yet another dream, where she called out for someone named Jaqen. She still had not wanted to tell Sansa who he was. Holding Arya with one hand Sansa as usual reached out for the bedpan she knew, Arya would need. Sansa held Arya's hair as she emptied her stomach into the bedpan, and suddenly a thought came to Sansa's mind: "Arya, when did you last have your moonblod?" She could see Arya's body tense up, as she lifted her head from the bedpan and met Sansa's eyes. Sansa saw Arya try to think back, and watched as her eyes grew big with realization.