Arya talks to Jon
They were alone in the Lord Commander's small office. Jon looked tired, and far older than Arya remembered leaving him.
He hugged her tightly as soon as she closed the door behind herself.
"I thought you were dead," he whispered in her hair. "I was so happy to get your raven from Eastwatch. What happened?"
Arya told him about the demonstration in front of the Queen and the other nobles.
"Euron Greyjoy is dead," Jon said. "He died a few hours after your demonstration. An Asshai poison, Sam tells me. The Long Farewell."
Her brother, the Lord Commander, was well informed. She vaguely remembered a smug oath wearing the golden kraken on a field of black. So, he was dead. Good riddance to him. One less ally for Cersei. The detail about the exotic poison used was interesting.
"Sam sure knows a lot of shit," Arya said. "Anyway, I left my post at the Dragonpits after they killed the wight. Sansa and Tyrion weren't there and I wanted to ask around for them. I found out quickly enough the circumstances of their departure."
"Do you think they killed Joffrey?" Jon asked.
"Not Sansa. The Imp? I don't know."
"What happened next?" Jon asked.
"The others were coming back to the inn. We all thought everything was all right after the demonstration. Ser Alliser almost smiled. But they were attacked by White Cloaks. Outnumbered three to one, but the men of the Night's Watch took them with them as they died. By the time I got there, there was only Ser Alliser and one big man standing. His face almost like a whight's, all misaligned scars, and dead eyes. He was about to kill us, when someone shot a dart in his neck and he died."
"That was Ser Gregor Clegane," Jon told her. "News of his death were celebrated throughout the land."
Arya felt a cold shiver down her spine at the name. Sandor's brother. The quick manner of his death had always made her wonder if Sandor/Jaqen killed him.
"Ser Alliser and I ran away, we bought prisoners from the City Watch and some boys, a butcher's apprentice, a blacksmith's and other rag tag kids. One night while we camped, we were attacked by Lannister soldiers. They sat everything on fire, tents, wagons, people. I saw Ser Alliser dying, and I ran. I left my black cloak and my sword on some corpse, and I ran away."
She hung her head. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but admitting this to Jon, her cheeks burned with shame.
"I don't care about a piece of cloth and a piece of steel," Jon said. "You're alive, and that's all that matters."
'You wouldn't have run,' Arya thought.
"What about this man who came with you? Who is he?"
"Jaqen H'ghar was one of the prisoners locked in a burning wagon. I gave them an axe to break the bars. He believes he owes me two deaths for the lives I saved."
"What do you mean?"
"He's an assassin, from Braavos. They're a strange sect, who serve their god by killing people for a fee. Sometimes a fee is a live saved. Braavos is weird."
"You and your dreams about Braavos," Jon said. " Why is he here? He's going to keep following you until you tell him who to kill?"
"I was tired and scared. I kept dreaming of the undead we fought. I dreamed about them coming over the Wall and not stopping. "
Jon's jaw clenched while she spoke.
"I gave him a name."
He waited, tense.
"The Night King."
He shook his head, apprehensive. "Do you think he can do it?"
"If that creature can be killed, yes."
"You seem very sure."
"Jon, apart from you, did I ever tell you I trusted anyone else?"
He shook his head, then he seemed to remember.
"Wait, yes. That strange looking man from the King Robert's guard," he said.
She nodded.
"The Hound," Jon said. "Was he among those who attacked you in King's Landing?"
"No. His name is Sandor Clegane. And he is Jaqen."
Her brother stared at her in silent confusion.
"I thought Jaqen is from Braavos."
"It's a little complicated. Jaqen was a man from Lorath. The man you saw earlier, is Sandor Clegane, trained as a Faceless Man in Braavos, pretending to be Jaqen."
"It's been three years and I only saw him in passing before I left Winterfell, but I'm sure I would have recognized the Hound."
"You'd think so, but you didn't. And you wouldn't. No one would. Sandor left the Kingsguard even before Sansa and Tyrion fled. He went to Braavos and trained there."
Jon didn't seem convinced.
"Talk to him yourself. Somewhere private."
"Does he know who you really are?"
Arya swallowed hard. Sandor Clegane knew who she was better than anyone else.
"Yes," she said.
"Did you fuck him?"
She jerked her head up in surprise. Jon didn't mess around with words. Even when it was uncomfortable or if it hurt, he'd always choose the truth over a well meaning lie. Without a direct question, Arya would have omitted this part of the truth.
"Yes."
She expected him to be annoyed or angry or disappointed. She hadn't expected him to stand up from his desk, pull her into a bearhug and ruffle her hair.
"Good. You should get warmth and happiness wherever you can find it."
"The world is really ending," she whispered.
"Maybe not. Maybe your man will fulfill his contract."
Arya blushed. Her man. It was just a figure of speech. Her dog. Her assassin. Her man.
"I am relieved you don't ask to go with him."
A muscle twitched in her cheek. She hoped that Jon hadn't noticed. Fat chance.
"You do want to go with him," he said.
"I'll do more good here. With the Wildlings, if you let me work with them."
"Indeed," Jon said. "They need to understand our language better and how to fight using our weapons."
Jon had asked her about the events in King's Landing, and Arya had obeyed the Lord Commander's request. Now that she had given her report, it was her time to ask the questions that burned in her.
"Jon? Are spearwives allowed in the Night's Watch?"
Her brother looked her straight in the eye.
"Yes," he said.
Arya bowed her head. It was more respect in that gesture than in using his title. He had given her the chance to serve in the Night's Watch under her own identity.
"I will not reveal who I am if you do not think it's wise," she said.
"The old rules are changing, Arya. I will tell everyone who you are. Tonight. Some of the men will not take it well."
"I understand. I lied to them about what I was. They might not trust me any more."
"I'll stand by you," he said. "For this night and all the nights to come."
Her love for her brother blended with respect for the man he had become, and were forged into undying loyalty.
"For this night and all the nights to come," Arya repeated the last words of their oath.
"Send in Jaqen H'ghar," Jon said, sitting back down at his desk.
Jon talks to Sandor
With Jaqen's face back on, Sandor found it easy to blend among the men of the Night's Watch. He kept surveying the corridor where Arya had left with Jon. He was aware of her presence as soon as she came back.
"The Lord Commander wants to talk to you," Arya said.
They had discussed this. She had already told her brother who he was. He'd have to convince Jon Snow to allow him to leave Castle Black and go North, and to give Samwell Tarly orders to aid in his mission with any scrap of information that might help.
In his office, Jon Snow no longer looked like the shy whelp he'd seen in Winterfell. He didn't share many features with Arya, or with Ned Stark. Sandor, whose mother hadn't lived long enough for him to remember her, wondered if Jon Snow had known anything about his own.
"Who are you?" Lord Snow asked.
"A man has the honor to be Jaqen H'ghar," he said.
He looked out the window, instead of looking at the Lord Commander. It was almost night. Fires were lit in the castle and their light flickered into the dark inner courtyard.
"She told you who I am," Sandor said in a tone closer to his real voice. "I'm going to show you, as a proof of my trust."
He turned his back from the window, and watched Jon Snow over the candle flames.
"This is not a cheap trick. It's not slight of hand, glamour or any arcane magic. We respect those whose faces we wear. They came to our temple to receive the gift, and we, as all men must, served."
He dug his fingers under his chin and reverently removed Jaqen's face. When he looked at Lord Snow, the young man's hand was on a dagger. Shock and revulsion were painted on his handsome features for a few moments, then he deliberately relaxed.
"I read about Faceless Men in Arya's books about Braavos. My friend Samwell Tarly knows other stories about Faceless Men. They kill without mercy. They kill for a price. Women or children."
He bowed his head. "If the fee is correct, the contract is accepted. Not many people are willing to pay the fees for killing children."
"What is a correct fee for the life of a child?" Jon asked.
"If a Lord comes to the Temple and asks the Faceless Men to kill the child of one of his enemies, the fee can be the life of one of the Lord's own children. If the Lord is willing to pay the price, the contract is accepted."
"So, you'd kill two children, or none?"
"It is so," Sandor answered in the same tone as the Kindly Man would have.
"What was the price for the Night King?"
"A man's life was saved from the flames. A death is owed to the Many-Faced God. The name the God expects is the Night King."
"You look like Sandor Clegane, but you don't speak like him."
"For three years I trained and I became no one. I let go of Sandor Clegane. Of his memories and his attachments. When I talk about what I am now, I do it in the terms in which I learned my new life."
"Your new life includes fucking my sister."
Sandor hadn't expected Lord Snow to be so direct.
"That was an unforeseen… complication."
At first, Jon Snow pierced him with a sharp gaze, but his features softened, as if the flame of a memory warmed his heart.
"Love so often is," he said.
Sandor's face remained impassive, but his heart skipped a beat. The young man read him too well for comfort. He'd somehow seen straight into his heart.
He loved Arya.
"We'll talk about this when you get back from your mission," Jon Snow said.
"Lord Commander," Sandor said. "I ask permission to speak to Samwell Tarly. I would be grateful if he shared his knowledge of the Night King and other creatures beyond the Wall."
"You have it. May your God give you strength to complete your mission."
He left, wearing his own face. He skulked through shadows until he found Samwell Tarly's study.
Arya and Sandor say goodbye
The entire castle buzzed with the shock of the revelation of her identity. Some men were upset, other were making rude remarks, others got upset about the disrespectful words about someone who had fought by their side and bled in the service of the Night's Watch.
Jon and Arya seemed the type of people to take great personal risks. Lord Snow's decision to let in the Free Folk had made him a target of hate for many men in the Watch.
Arya was the cause of discontent for many men simply for being a woman. The fact that she had went through the same training as them, had been on the same missions and fought the same fights, didn't matter for some of them.
He feared that at his return, he would find her harmed by her own people.
She found him immediately after he talked to Samwell Tarly despite how careful he'd been to stay in the shadows. He needed time and privacy to put Jaqen's face back on. Until then, he had to hide, but she had found him as if it were child's play to spot him in the dark.
"When are you leaving?"
"First light."
"I should come with you."
"I didn't take you for a coward," he said.
"What did you say to me?" she asked with a snarl.
"You want to run away because people found out you're a little girl, and they're upset."
"A woman," she said softly. "I'm a woman."
"Aye. You are."
"You still ow me a name," she said. "You promised you'd come back to pay your debt."
He nodded. "I will come back."
"Sam left to take care of his duties as Maester Aegon's assistant," she said.
He tried to make out her features in the darkness of their corner, to get a clue about why she told him that. She made it easy by rolling her eyes with exaggerated irritation.
"His study is empty while he's gone," she said.
He could do what he needed to become Jaqen.
"Can you get me in there?"
"Yeah," she said, amusement clinking like silver bell in her voice. "I can get you in there."
She shook her head, apparently baffled by his dimness, and led the way. Like a thief, she jimmied the lock and opened the door. When they were both inside, he put set his bag on a chair and watched her work diligently on the lock again until the metal slid in place securing the door closed.
Her eyes sparkled when she turned around and they were in each other's arms without a word.
"We'll have to be quiet," she whispered between kisses.
'And careful,' he thought, kissing his way down her body, aware that his beard would leave marks on her face and exposed neck. He tugged at her shirt and she raised her hands allowing him to take it off her in one fluid move.
"I want you," she whispered.
He put his hands on her hips and Arya wrapped her legs around his waist.
"That desk looks sturdy," he said.
"So lucky Sam is tidy," she said when he placed her on the empty desk.
His mouth was too busy with her breasts to answer, but his hands were already working the laces of her trousers. In seconds she was completely naked on Sam's desk. Her lithe body trembled with desire. Her hard nipples sparkling with his saliva looked like precious pearls on her pale skin.
"Want you inside me." She panted. "Now."
He didn't bother undressing. He entered her in one swift motion, hardening and swelling with each thrust. Her muscles tensed and stretched out around him, welcoming him, drawing him deeper. He would never get tired of seeing his cock sinking in her, but he had to look up. He wanted to see her face when she came apart under him one last time.
Arya's eyes were swimming with tears.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, knowing the answer.
"Yes," she said.
He knew what hurt. He felt the same intense soul searing pain. Pleasure built up in their bodies, and tears slid out of Arya's eyes when she crested. He spilled himself inside her again, his heart breaking to know he would leave her.
Maybe forever.