They could wait no longer. Rhaena could tell that they were now drawing far too much attention to themselves, so she sought to find a means to at least leave Braavos. Recalling the maps she had once studied, she recalled that the next great city south from Braavos was Pentos so decided that making the journey at least one step at a time was better than nothing. Even travelling in small fishing boats was better than walking all the way there so Rhaena took Sansa and Lady with her to the docks in order to find an honest man that might offer them passage for silver. Beside her Lady shifted and growled, growing uneasy. Knowing by now that this meant that Lady was sensing something amiss, Rhaena pulled Sansa closer to her and closed her hand around her sword in preparation. They had left the poor back alleys and were now approaching the marketplace; however, the way was surprisingly empty and quiet. Not even a rat scurried along the walls. Tension tilled ever fibre of her being. Taking a tentative step forwards, Rhaena anticipated someone attacking them. What occurred however was something she did not expect and it happened so quickly she barely had time to react.
A huge metal net suddenly dropped down from above and landed upon Lady, making her squeal and whimper as she became trapped underneath it and unable to move as half a dozen men rushed from where they had been hiding, surging towards the two girls with their knives and their swords. Barely having time to fling Sansa out of the way, Rhaena lashed out with her sword as she cried out for Lady who was now snarling and writhing in her attempts to free herself from the net but the heavy weight kept her pinned to the ground. Her blade managed to cut one of the attackers, slicing open his wrist which forced him to drop his knife with a scream before Rhaena kicked him aside. She managed to hurt two of them before they captured her arms and wrestled her into submission even as she shouted furiously, blazing with fury as she kicked and struck another of their attackers in the face. "Release me at once! How dare you manhandle me you piss drinking fuckers!" Hearing Lady snarl, Rhaena looked to see that Sansa had crawled over to Lady and was weakly attempting to pull the net off her though her movements were sluggish and ultimately useless. "Sansa! Sansa run!" Rhaena tried to warn her but Sansa seemed not to hear her, focusing too greatly on Lady that she did not notice the man behind her until he had grasped her by the hair and dragged her back. "No! Let her go! Let her go or I swear I shall have your heads!"
"Feisty this one. Don't worry girl. We just want the wolf. Though I expect someone will pay well for two pretty looking girls such as yourselves." A dark and thickly muscled man spoke as he approached Rhaena who still refused to stop struggling, though her fiery glare now snapped to the man who had addressed her, seeing a person dressed in expensive silks with slick, oiled hair heavily scented with perfume. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the overpowering smell.
"There is no slavery in Braavos."
"No…but there are slaves elsewhere." Snapping his fingers, the man ordered for the girls and the wolf to be taken away. Rhaena released another torrent of insults but they were nothing more than words and could do no harm to a man who cared only about profit. Unable to comprehend their misfortune, Rhaena looked desperately at Lady who was still snarling, snapping her jaws at anyone who tried to approach her. She thought they were done for. To be sold as slaves and used as nothing more than toys for a fat, stinking man's pleasure until there was nothing desirable left of them. Heat burned through Rhaena, gathering at her centre and swirling outwards as her hands began to grow hot. She would not yield. Not to men like this. Not now. Not ever. She was a dragon, and a dragon never surrenders. Slamming her foot down upon one of her captors with so much force she heard the bone break underneath her, causing him to release a bellow of pain as his grip upon her loosened. With a jab of her elbow she broke his nose also before then shoving her hand against the second man's face, intending to scratch out his eyes however the heat she felt passing over her entire body seemed to be more than just a sensation. The man screamed as his skin began to burn and melt, hissing sharply as the putrid smell of burning flesh began to rise. Shocked, Rhaena whipped back her hand in order to reveal an angry handprint against the man's face, already blistering as he tried to clutch at it but this only made it hurt more. Opening her palm, she looked down at her own hand which remained warm but did not feel as hot though when she touched her own thumb to her palm she felt nothing. "What did you do?" Now more wary, the men stared at Rhaena with their weapons raised, looking between her and the man she had burned.
It was just like before. That same feeling of warmth and heat, then the golden fire which had burned around her. Suddenly realising that the fire did not come from around her but within, Rhaena began to wonder if perhaps this was some kind of magic that her bloodline possessed. Magic. Fire. Magical fire. Whatever it was, it had saved her life once. Perhaps it would save her again. Turning herself to face the remaining men, a smirk quirked upon her mouth. She picked up her sword and strode directly at them whilst holding out her hand, making the more cowardly ones shriek and shy away from her before she then attacked. They were cautious but still clever. They avoided her hands and instead came at her from all sides, forcing Rhaena to defend herself as best she could with now clumsy parries and lurches of her body to avoid a sword or knife as if swung at her. The momentum she had initially carried was now lost and soon she had been disarmed. Her blade clattered to the ground and before she could reach for her daggers, a fist buried deeply into her gut with so much force she was lifted off her feet before dropping like a stone. The breath was knocked from her lungs and her eyes began to sting as they watered from the pain, doubled over and gasping as the leader of the thieves clapped his hands. "Clearly you are even more valuable than I first anticipated. Perhaps once I sell you and your companions I will be able to retire a very rich man." The sneer in his voice drove Rhaena made, wanting nothing more than to knock his head against a stone.
"I think not." Still dazed from being struck, Rhaena at first did not recognise the voice as it spoke up from the entrance of the alleyway. "How many men does it take to subdue one inexperienced little girl? Yet still she gives you trouble. I admire that." Blinking until she could see once again, Rhaena turned herself in order to look at the person who was speaking but only caught a glimpse as he passed in front of her, standing in a rather relaxed stance with his thumbs hooked into his belt. "But now you will face me, and I am no inexperienced little girl."
"This is no business of yours, sellsword. Walk away and I shall allow your impertinence slide."
"I am no sellsword. I am Syrio Forel, once the First Sword of Braavos." Recognition finally hit Rhaena as she straightened, staggering to her feet as she held her stomach. "So tell me, who dares crosses blades with Syrio Forel?" His opponents shifted uneasily whilst their leader calculated the risks against the possibility of the rewards. It appeared he deemed challenging Syrio worth the risk for the sake of profit.
"Kill him." His men attacked but compared to them, Syrio moved like a master dancer, smoothly sidestepping and avoiding their attacks as they staggered and blundered, suddenly becoming no more dangerous than incensed chickens. They squawked and flapped, brandishing their weapons wildly until Syrio suddenly drew his long, thin blade free from its scabbard and began to slice in measured and practiced movements which opened fine cuts upon their hands and faces. Soon all of them were bleeding, the warnings imprinted with blood upon their skin as Syrio continued to hold his sword deftly like it were merely a feather. Rhaena watched in utter fascination. Syrio killed the next man to attack in a single movement, piercing him through the heart before then turning on the others who were beginning to show their alarm. Their leader snarled and shoved at them, pushing them back into the fight but Syrio continued to move with an agile grace one would not expect from a man of his stature. The flowing movements appeared just like water and to see them put into effect was nothing short of mesmerising despite the unpleasant display of bloodshed and death. Soon they were running from him and their leader, with no one left to defend him, had no choice but to retreat also. It was over seemingly in moments, Rhaena staring as Syrio deftly cleaned his blade then sheathed it with the same grace and fluidity as before. Then he turned to face her.
"Apologies, my lady. Syrio Forel heard trouble and could not help but offer his assistance." He bowed to her and after a moment, Rhaena realised that he had not recognised her. Exhaling deeply whilst still holding her hand over the place where she had been struck, she returned his smile with warmth and familiarity.
"Syrio Forel. It has been a long time." Her words caused Syrio's brow to quirk upwards, not understanding what the girl meant until she reached up her hands and pulled away her headscarf to reveal the long tresses of pure white hair. Going completely still, his eyes widened as he looked again at the girl's face and slowly began to recall the image of a small, bird like girl who had once watched his training sessions with the youngest daughter of the former Hand of the King in Westeros. Shame washed over him for his inability to recognise her.
"Lady Rhaena." Immediately he took her hand and knelt before her, pressing his brow against her fingers. "Forgive me for not recognising you, dear child. You have grown a great deal and do not appear as you once did, it is unacceptable for me to not recognise the one who saved my life." Alarmed by this sudden change in countenance, Rhaena hurriedly insisted that Syrio rose to his feet. A loud whine drew her attention away from him, however, looking back and with a sharp cry Rhaena flew to where Sansa sat on the ground beside Lady, once more having gone perfectly still. Grasping hold of the metal net, Rhaena pulled and dragged at it in order to lift it off Lady as Syrio also offered his assistance. Together they freed Lady who rushed out from underneath and shook herself off, snorting unhappily before turning to Sansa to nuzzle at her face. Blinking slowly, Sansa brought her head to rest against Lady's neck. "It appears there is much that has happened to you both. Come. You must take rest. Come with me." Offering his hand to Sansa he helped her to her feet as Rhaena set about collecting her fallen sword and their sack of belongings, shouldering it over her bow and arrows before going willingly with Syrio for she knew him to be a trustworthy man.
Leading them to his own house, Rhaena was surprised by how simple it was. A small home with simple furnishings, but there was fresh pomegranate juice to drink and Syrio provided them with food also, even giving Lady some meat for her to nibble on before then sitting down and inviting Rhaena to tell him everything. She began from the moment they had parted ways, explaining how the Hand's residence had been massacred and Lord Stark executed under false charges and the following events which had sparked the war which people called the War of the Five Kings. All the while Syrio listened with nods of his head, smiling to himself when Rhaena told him that Arya had managed to escape and make her own way and was also currently in Braavos, serving in the temple of the Many Faced God, at the House of Black and White. He was glad. His student had found her own path which was all any master could hope for. Now, however, he was faced with two girls who were utterly alone with no one else to help them. He noted how exhausted Rhaena looked and how she had to guide and shield the other Stark girl, Sansa, who seemed little more than an empty shell who only breathed because it was instinctive. There was no question what to do next. "Very well. I shall accompany you, dear child. I offer you my sword to protect you and your charge until you are safely delivered into the hands of your sister. Then my debt to you is repaid."
"Debt? Master Forel, you have already saved us. Any debt you imagine between us is already paid. I cannot ask you to come with us and give up your life here." Protesting at first, Syrio lifted his hand with a look which instantly caused her to fall silent. She almost smiled. She remembered him giving that same look to Arya during her lessons whenever she had begun to argue with him.
"A little skirmish does not pay back the life you saved. Were it not for you, I would be a dead man, and so my life is bound to yours until it is no longer in danger. You cannot change my decision, child. There is nothing of great importance to keep me in Braavos, so I may as well travel with you. Perhaps I will discover my next calling along the way, yes?" Blinking at him silently, Rhaena could not even begin to think of what to say. The words of Jaqen H'ghar found their way into her head, telling her that she should find a friend before going to Meereen. Was Syrio the friend he had alluded to? If so then how did he know? There were so many great mysteries in this world, it seemed, and some of them resided with Rhaena herself. She accepted Syrio's offer for it was the intelligent move. To have someone who knew not only Braavos but Essos better than herself, with a better grasp of the languages and customs was helpful enough, but to have a sword master by their side would be an even greater comfort. Also, having previously been the First Sword of the Sealord, Syrio had many friends and these friends just so happened to have ships. Before the day was out Rhaena and Sansa were on board a merchant vessel sailing all the way down the coastline, stopping in Pentos, Tyrosh, Lys and Volantis before making the long sail all the way to Asshai. The captain was more than willing to take passengers on board at the request of Syrio and waved away any offer of payment, even when Rhaena offered to give him all her remaining silver.
"A friend of Syrio Forel is a friend of mine. Welcome aboard, dear ladies. We shall do all we can to ensure your comfort." He vowed sincerely and Rhaena could have wept right there and then. She was unaccustomed to meeting so many decent men that it was perhaps more shocking than anything else. They were given a spacious cabin with more than enough room for the both of them as well as Lady, with a proper bed with a soft mattress and a private privy for them to use. Rhaena was soon smiling with joy, walking energetically to set up their belongings in their cabin before then helping Sansa to settle.
"Just think Sansa. Soon we shall be sailing upon the open waters to see my sister and along the way, we shall be able to see the wonders of Essos! Pentos, Volantis…perhaps if the ship stops for a while we can go ashore and take a look for ourselves. If you like I shall buy you a new dress of silk. It is too hot here to wear thick clothes and long sleeves. Would you like that? Perhaps I can also find you something to put in your hair. I know you would want to look your best when we meet my sister, so I suppose I should find myself something smart to wear also. You do not need to be afraid any longer, Sansa. We are safe now. They cannot reach us here. Soon everything shall be put to right and we will go home together. Perhaps you will even meet a handsome foreigner and fall in love. Would you like that? I can very well imagine anyone who sees you will fall in love, especially with your hair. They have probably never seen auburn hair like yours before." As she spoke Rhaena had begun brushing through Sansa's locks to remove the tangles so that it was smooth and strait once more. "Shall I leave your hair down for you or would you like it put up? It is quite hot. Shall I put it up for you Sansa?" Not expecting an answer, Rhaena dropped the comb when Sansa had mutely nodded her head. "Sansa?" The younger girl did not say anything, continuing to stare blankly ahead but instead, gradually lowered her head down to Rhaena's shoulder in order to rest there. Dampness began to gather in Rhaena's eyes as her arms naturally curled around her friend and hold her gently. Drawing in a deep breath, Rhaena smiled as she turned her cheek against Sansa's head and kissed at her hair. "You will be well again, Sansa. I give you my word." Squeezing her softly, Rhaena then set to work upon Sansa's hair to pin it up so that her neck would remain cool, thanking whatever gods were listening that Sansa was finally beginning to show signs of waking up.