A/N: Okay people, I have tortured y'all enough. This is dedicated to all of you who have had your hearts ripped to pieces by me...lol! I hope you all enjoy...
Arya walked through the streets of Braavos without a care in the world, although she had just sentenced a man to his death. Replacing one of the man's coins with her poisonous one had been her idea from the beginning. Jaqen had drilled her on the cons of such a plan, but it had worked to perfection. Soon, the man's heart would give out making it look as if the god of Death had chosen that time to come and claim him.
At the age of eight and ten, Arya had grown into a fierce woman. Her childish body had given way to womanly curves. Her face was thin, yet her cheekbones were perfectly defined. Her dark hair had grown down her back, falling in a wavy curl. All the men that looked upon her true face found her to be beautiful, though she did not see them looking. She had no time for such trivial thoughts.
Someone stepped up beside her, but she did not flinch. After working side by side with him for three years, she knew him better than anyone else. He walked close to her, yet not close enough to make people assume they were together. Arya put her hands in the jacket pocket of her long, black coat and placed a small smile on her face. She looked as though she were taking a stroll, instead of just killing someone. She had learned to hide her true emotions well, actually changing everything about her. They called her No One, for that was the name she had chosen for herself. The years had blown her memories away, as if they were cobwebs suspended in the air. She remembered nothing but her life in the House of Black and White. It had taken a year of meditation and mind tricks, which the kindly man had contributed to, but finally they had been successful. The moment she totally surrendered the person who she used to be, the kindly man began using her for bigger jobs, though she never went without Jaqen.
They climbed the hill to the temple. Upon entering, Arya walked pass the ones who lay dying or dead without so much as a glance. Death had become her life, and she was not easily moved by the pain and suffering of others. The kindly man was standing at the stairway leading to her room as she and Jaqen came towards him. She nodded her head once, signaling that her job was done.
"A word, No One," he said, his eyes moving towards Jaqen, "Alone."
At first, he seemed to not want to leave, but as she turned to look at him, he began walking away. By the way he walked, she could tell that he was put out by not being involved in their discussion.
"Follow me," the kindly man commanded.
She did as she was told, as she always did. He led her towards the darkened room where the Guild of Faceless Men met to discuss their assignments. When she entered, and found the room empty, her intrest was peaked. He had never wanted to talk with her one on one. He pointed to a chair, and she sat down, waiting for him to tell her why he had brought her here.
"You have been in the service of the faceless men for three years now. You have proven yourself time and time again. Is it still your desire to join us, child?"
"Yes, of course," she answered truthfully.
"We do not take many women, for they are the givers of life and we serve the god of Death, yet I find something in you that I like, that I admire. You have courage beyond your years, and have done all that has been asked of you."
"But..." she said, feeling there was something he was holding back.
"But there is one final test you must pass before you are truly one of the faceless men. This job will be the hardest you have faced yet, though I feel I will be sending the right assassion for the job. You complete your assignment and when you return, we will will welcome you back as a sister."
"And this assignment?" she asked.
"You will travel to Westeros come the morning. A ship has already been bought and paid for. If you choose this asignment, you will board it at dawn."
"And my target?"
For a moment, the kindly man did not answer. She wondered what would hold his tongue, what would make him grow quiet. "Your target will be the bastard son of the dead King Robert Baratheon," he finally said.
Her forehead wrinkled, for the name stirred something within her, though it was gone as easily as it came. "A bastard son of a king? They must have paid heavily for it."
"It is not your place to discuss payment, No One. We do not judge those who seek our service, nor do we judge the life we seek to end. It is the god of Death's place to judge all.
"Of course, my apologies," she answered, low.
Several moments went by as she mulled over his words. So, someone wanted to kill the bastard son of a dead king.
"You can say no if you like, No One. Do you know the bastard son of the king we are discussing?" the kindly man asked.
"No," she answerd.
"Do you accept this assignment?"
"Yes," she said without hesitating.
This was her moment, her chance to prove she had what it took to be a faceless man. She was just as good as the others, better when compared to some.
"He will be heavily guarded, understand that. Behind him, rides fourty thousand men, most of which would cut you down if you so much as look at him wrong. I thought of sending more than just you, but I fear that a group would spook his men. He would take kinder to a young girl I think. When the ships pull ashore, you will make your way towards the Riverlands. It is there that he and his men have built their home. You will go to the Inn at the Crossroads, and there you will wait for him. It is said that he often visits there when he is home."
She was nodding her head at everything he was saying, soaking it in to her mind as to not forget a thing. There was something familiar about this Riverland. Something very familiar about the Inn at the Crossroads. She pushed her mind, thinking on in, but the walls that the kindly man had helped her to build stood in her way. For the life of her, she could not shake the nagging feeling that set in, nor could she break through her walls.
"Go, get some rest, child. You will need it come the morning," he said softly.
She raised from her chair and walked away, feeling a sudden dread fall upon her.
"One more thing," he called to her. "You will know to whom you seek, for they call him the Bull that rides the wildfire."
She walked slowly to her room, pondering on the name the kindly man had just given her. He sounded powerful, but she figured with fourty thousand men he would have to be powerful. She could not shake the dread, could not shake the feeling that she was forgetting something. So caught up in her thoughts, she did not hear Jaqen coming up behind her.
"A girl should not do what the man is asking her," he said low.
She whirled around, her eyes growing wide for a moment in her surprise. "How did you know?" she asked.
"A man hears things through walls," he said, shrugging his shoulders.
She turned, walking towards the outside, but he took her hand in his, leading her towards his room. She had been in the room many times, almost feeling as if it were her room as well. Jaqen was acting strange, and it was making her feel uncomfortable. He had always been cool and calm, never letting his feelings show, but now he just looked angry.
He made her to sit on his bed as he paced in front of her. "A girl should stay here where she belongs."
"If I do this, I become a true faceless man, Jaqen."
"If the girl does this, she will not return," he said, turning his eyes towards her. They bore in to her, making her shift in discomfort.
"This is where I belong."
Jaqen sat down beside her, his eyes still boring in to her. "A man had selfish reasons for bringing the girl here," he whispered. "A man has selfish reasons for keeping the girl here. Do not do this, please. Another opportunity will arise where the girl can prove herself worthy. This is not the time."
"I'm going Jaqen," leaving no room for argument. He would not tell her what to do. He should have known that by now. Slowly, he reached his hand towards her face, his palm gently caressing her cheek. "A man needs the girl more than the girl will ever know." His face inched slowly towards her. His eyes became hooded in his lust. His scent surrounded her, overpowering her senses. She opened her mouth slightly, unable to breathe.
Jaqen's lips were inches away from her own when he suddenly froze. His hooded eyes opened wide, the lust completely gone from them. He snapped his eyes towards her, seeing the anger within them. Slowly, he began to lean away from her and as he did, she allowed the blade she held against his stomach to go with him.
"Do not ever try that again," she purred.
"A girl is heartless," Jaqen spat.
"A girl has no need in what you want to offer her," she said, climbing from the bed. She stood to leave, but his furious voice stopped her. "You think you will be free of me, girl? You think a man does not know how to hunt you down if you do not return? Mark the man's words, I will never eat, never sleep, until you have returned back here to me!"
She smiled, though her smile carried no warmth or amusement. "You can not threaten me, Jaqen. Your threats hold on sway over me. I've been with you too long. I will come and go as I please, and you will do nothing about it. I will go to Westeros and I will return, but not for you. You have been a calming presence in my life, but do not think for a moment you will be anything else.
"You owe the man a name, girl. For that, the man will never be out of your life. I will own the girl," he whispered.
She shook her head, wishing it did not have to come to this. She wished he would not push her, but he was just like her, stubborn and uncaring. She walked slowly towards him, laying her hands on his shoulders. He seemed to calm at this, grabbing her by the waist. When he tried to pull her closer, she stopped him. Instead, she leaned down to his ear, whispering softly. "I give to the gods, Jaqen H'ghar's name."
The hands holding her side began to squeeze painfully, yet she smiled through it. "The gods will not be mocked," Jaqen hissed.
She leaned down, coming within inches of his lips. "I wasn't mocking the gods. My third name is Jaqen H'ghar." She tore his hands away from her waist and turned her back.
"A man has been a friend and stayed by the girl's side! TAKE IT BACK! he roared.
She stopped at the door, keeping her back to him for a few seconds. Reaching into her pocket, she brought out a small needle. It had been the one Jaqen had used in her first assignment. She held it carefully, for the tip held a poison so deadly it took only seconds to kill its victim.
"I have no friends," she whispered. "How can a person who is no one have anyone to call a friend? Though I am quite fond of our time together. It is the only reason I give you a quick death in this needle."
"A man hopes that bastard boy kills the girl. It will be perfect justice for this transgression," he seethed.
She chuckled lightly, finally turning to look at him. "My how your fondness turns so fast," she said, mocking him.
"Take back the man's name!" he snarled.
"I will see you in the seven hells soon, Jaqen." She swung the door opened and walked out. Behind her, Jaqen was still screaming at her to take back his name as she slowly closed his door, sealing him inside with the deadly needle. The moment he disappeared from her vision, he disappeared from her mind. It had been a technique that the kindly man had taught her. It allowed her to stab Jaqen in the back, the only person who ever gave her the time of day in this place.
She laid down in her bed, never fearful that he would come and kill her in the night. Jaqen took his beliefs to heart, and when she had spoken his name, she had sentenced him to his death. He would not mock the gods with his refusal. But she would mock the gods as many times as she could. Her eyes closed, sending her into a dream, the first she had had in years.
She was running through the forest, the wind whipping at her back. In front of her was a man. He slowed, until coming to a stop, and then looking around him. Slowly, he bent down, rubbing her head. She looked up at him, his face sad. He was staring at her, his lips trembling.
"I know she's still alive. I just know it," he whispered. "I feel it inside me."
He stood back up, walking a little ways ahead, but she stayed put and watched. He began pacing, grabbing a head full of his thick, black hair. "I can bring down the most powerful men in the land! I can gather an army with just the sound of my voice! I can have forty thousand men screaming for me to be upon the iron throne, but I can't even find one girl!
He turned back to her, and walked towards her slowly. He knelt down before her, his eyes showing his pain. "Is she really dead, girl? Have I been chasing a ghost?"
He bowed his head, letting out a shuttered breath. She whined, bringing his face back up to look at her. He moaned softly, shaking his head.
"It's time to go home, Nymeria. It's time to go home," he whispered.
Her eyes opened as she shot up in bed. Looking around in the darkness, it took her mind a moment to realize it had been a dream. It had been so long since she had dreamed that she had forgotten what it felt like, yet this dream felt so real. The last words the man had said echoed in her head.
It's time to go home, Nymeria. It's time to go home, he whispered in her ear.
"Nymeria," she said out loud, feeling the name on her lips. That familiar feeling came rushing forward again. Something was right there, right on the surface of her memory, but she could not reach it. She could not open the box to look inside.
Her door swung open, breaking her out of her thoughts. She swung her head around, expecting Jaqen, but it was the kindly man. "It is just before dawn. The girl needs to rise and come with me. You do not have much time before the ship sets sail."
She stood from her bed, not worrying about dressing. She wore a thin nightgown, but she knew the kindly man would give her clothing. She followed him down the darkened hallway, past Jaqen's room. For the briefest of moments, she thought about opening his door to see if he was dead, but she decided against it. She did not want to know, for it was not her problem anymore.
He took her to the room of many faces. Hanging on the walls, were thousands of them. It would be one of these faces that she would wear to Westeros. After studying each one, she chose the face of an ugly, broken girl who had been beaten by her father.
"A wise choice. The bastard son of King Robert will take kindly to you if he thinks you are in need. The one that has come to contract with us has paid a heavy price. See that the job is done and swiftly. Once you have disposed of the man, the faceless men will be waiting here in the temple to welcome you home."
she slipped into the face, hiding her beauty within by covering it with the ugliness of the broken girl. Once the face was sealed in place, she became someone else. No longer no one, but the broken girl. She turned from the kindly man, turned from the temple, and made her way towards the ship. She left all her possessions, all except the small sword she had kept with her at all times. With the sword, she would cut her way to the bastard boy if she had to. One thing was for sure, she would succeed, for she had never failed before.
The entire journey to Westeros she spent trying to find the voice to match the face. She practiced how to sit, how to stand and how to walk. She hunched her shoulders, drawing in to herself. Her voice was meek and timid, completely opposite from what she was used to, but she was beginning to get used to it. By the time the ship docked, she had become a completely different person. She had become the meek, scared girl who had run away from her abusive father. She even learned to cry.
She conned a man into taking her all the way to the Riverlands. She had done it so perfectly, he did not even realize what was happening. For days they traveled. When he asked her questions, she answered in a shy, meek voice. When he tried to get too friendly with her, she shoved the sword into his belly and continued the journey on her own, hiding his body so well he would never be found. The stupid man never saw it coming. She grabbed the reigns, continuing on.
By day, she traveled. Few people passed her, and every one gave her the same warning. "Beware of the Bull who rides the wildfire." Everyone said the same thing, until she began to repeat it to people passing by. Who is this man that people fear him so, she wondered? By night, she slept under the clear sky, watching the stars as they drifted above her. She took comfort in the sounds of the forest. The familiar feeling within her continued to grow, until it burned like fire. Days into her travel, she realized she had been here before. The knowledge of that hit her hard, yet she did not let it take her over. She swept it under her barriers, choosing to use her strength to grow her character. She practiced the right way to talk, the right way to speak without looking into someone's eyes. She learned to be submissive.
Finally, the day came when she made it to the Inn at the Crossroads. She delivered her horse to the stable and walked towards the large building. Inside, she could hear the sounds of music and children's laughter. What an odd place for the man they called the Bull who rides the wildfire to frequent, she thought.
The moment she opened the door, the sounds assaulted her. She slipped in, unnoticed, for there was dancing and singing going on throughout the room. The mood was light and cheerful, something she did not expect. She spotted the bar and made her way over towards it. A pretty girl, a few years older than she, was serving the men ale. She sat down, drawing in to herself as much as she could. The girl eyed her for a few seconds, and then made her way over.
"Hi," the girl said warmly.
"Hello," she answered, softly.
"A—Are you okay?" the girl asked her.
For a moment, she didn't answer. "I'm fine...now," she said, her voice cracking perfectly where it should have. The girl turned around, grabbing a cup and filling it with the ale. She sat it down in front of her. She picked it up, taking large gulps. She had been so thirsty. The girl smiled sweetly at her when she sat the cup down. Without her having to ask, the girl filled it again.
"Are you hungry?" the girl asked. "We have the best pie maker in the land."
"Sounds wonderful," she purred.
"Hot Pie, we have a request for one of your famous pies," the girl yelled.
She looked over to where the girl was looking as someone stood from one of the tables. He was facing away from her, but when he turned, her breath hitched. She turned away from him, staring before her and wondering why she felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. The hand that reached out towards her drink was shaking and she knocked it over. The girl was there, immediately, cleaning up the mess.
"There you go, ma'am. You will not find a better pie this side of the Riverlands!" the boy said, laying the pie in front of her. She could do nothing but stare as a voice spoke in her mind.
"Hot Pie!" she heard a voice scream.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. She had to focus, needed to have a clear head if she was to do this. If the boy would step away from her for a few moments, she could think straight. Instead, he stood close to her, waiting for her to take a bite of his pie. As calmly as she could, she took a bite of the pie, which she had to admit was very good. It melted in her mouth, causing her to close her eyes for a moment in enjoyment of the flavors.
"Told you," the boy said proudly.
She ate the pie as the girl and boy began a conversation. For a moment, she was completely forgotten, which was good, because it gave her a chance to relax. It was easier said than done as she continued listening to the boy.
"Where's Willow?" he asked the girl.
"Where do you think," the girl said chuckling. "She's waiting for him to return."
"Oh yeah, he's coming back today, isn't he?"
The girl nodded her head. She noticed how the girl's pretty face turned sad. When they made eye contact, she smiled at the girl. The girl returned her smile, but it never quite reached her eyes. "Do you need anything else?" she asked.
"A room, if you have one," she asked softly.
"We have one. It will be yours as long as you need it," she said, kindly. "What's your name?"
She had thought a lot about what her name would be. Nothing quite felt right. In that moment, she decided on the first name that came to her mind. It just floated there, like the wind. "Beth," she answered. Beside her, she felt the boy flinch, as if she had poked him. She chanced a glance and saw him openly staring at her.
"That's a very pretty name," he whispered.
She never got the feeling he was flirting or overstepping his bounds. One moment, she saw tears in his eyes, but the next they were gone. When he had said it was pretty name, he had meant nothing but that. For a fearful moment, she wondered if she had made a mistake, but he looked away from her, choosing to talk to the girl again as if nothing had happened.
"Welcome to the Crossroads Inn, Beth. You are welcome to stay as long as you need," the girl told her.
"Thank you," she answered softly.
Outside the inn, there came the sound of many horses. Both the boy and girl looked at one another, a smile breaking out on their faces. "Looks like the king has returned," Hot Pie said, his voice playful.
"So it seems. I'll get his cup ready," the girl said, turning away from them.
The doors of the inn opened as a loud sound of voices drifted towards her. The boy turned, chuckling softly. He walked away from her, greeting someone with a clasp on the back. It echoed in her ears as loudly as the voices.
"Did you find anything?" the boy asked.
There was a deep sigh and then a voice that sent goose bumps down her flesh. "Nothing, but I'm not giving up."
She closed her eyes, allowing the voice to play in her mind over and over again, awaking something within her that had long been dead. Without her approval, her body began to turn in her seat. When she looked up, she found eyes staring at her, eyes as blue as the oceans on which she knew they were made from.
A/N: Ah, one nice, long sigh everyone! I thought about letting it go on for a few more chapters, to show more of Arya in Braavos, but I decided against it. This story is not over people, not by a long shot. We have more twist and turns to come, so don't be thinking we will stop with a reunion, cause that's not how I roll! Get those reviews coming people and I'll see y'all tomorrow!
