I apologise greatly for the delay, I will update faster and this time I will not promise anything which I cannot keep. Valar Morghulis.
It was a simple task for Ayra and Jaqen to attain passage to Westeros.
They had a heavy purse so they could buy off most captains, and the shine of a dragon made smiles flow in hundreds and sweetened words flooded their ears.
It was a mummer's farce in both opinions but they too smiled falsely and praised the arrogant captain's ad their ships. The duo could stow away if they were truly desperate...
The only problem was how winter descended late on Braavos and the free cities, it was common knowledge the wind of winter had risen in the seven kingdoms and it now rained snow and ash.
Many ships avoided Westeros, the war was won but there was a broken kingdom to fix, Ayra closed her ears and eyes to the news, she would not face the truth. Yet.
The first attempt at getting passage across the narrow sea resulted in the loss of two limbs, neither of which were the pairs. Ayra did not take kindly to a randy captain trying to grope her hence the loss of the arm, and Jaqen hated only the thought of someone even touching her. There went the foot.
It had therefore been Jaqen who handled the captains with false sweetness and easy charm.
Eventually they found upon a barge exporting goods to Westeros the cheyao. It was a Dothraki name but a Braavos ship, according to the captain it was famed for transporting horses and his father had deemed it appropriate to name it after a dark bay horse in the Dothraki tongue.
Ayra had marvelled at the vastness of the ship its sails rose high in the air and the proud mares were loaded in holding. Over twenty were loaded onto the ship, each of them magnificent, at least ten would die.
The horses took Ayra back to remembering Stranger; the hound's horse. Even to her current time she had never seen a fairer mare. Its sheer loyalty was astonishing and Ayra hated the horse for it, she hoped the beast was dead along with the hound.
Now Ayra stroked along one of the more humble mounts mane, he was named Wolfe for the young dead king of the north.
Ayra had not thought of the Starks or Robb's death for that matter, she had buried the death deep within her and the simple bay horse made her crack. Ayra had punched Jaqen when he told her the meaning of the name; she had screamed and even attempted to kill the horse.
Now Ayra found an unusual solace with the animal and found herself taking him from the hold daily to give him his exercise, there were much finer on board the ship but Ayra felt this was the strongest out of all.
The horse bumped Ayra's shoulder and she swatted it away, Wolfe gave an irritated humph.
She had been trapped on the boat for almost two weeks and after her mental breakdown she had locked herself away only leaving to make water and see to Wolfe. She closed herself off and even Jaqen's gentle coaxing wasn't enough, she was immune to his smiles and soft spoken words.
The sea was calm and there was only the steady sound of the hull dipping into the water, sailors basking in the glowing sun and an odd horse whickering to the ship.
A boat was a lonely thing and Ayra had only herself to talk to, she analysed and assessed everything with the mind of a faceless man.
She had come out of her stupor tree days prior but shame over her childishness overrode her sense to apologise and be civil. It had been a long time since she had the privilege to act like a petulant child. She could not deny Sansa was far worse but in retrospect as a child Ayra had been no angel.
Eddard Stark had brought his children up with the best of care but each child had their own will.
Everyone had different aspects, there was Jon who was solemn but brilliant, Robb who was strong and fair, Sansa was caring in her own way, and in fact Ayra had to grudgingly admit she was smart if not for her naivety. Bran was up in the clouds but determined and baby Rickon, Ayra hated that she did not get to see her youngest brother grow up but he mirrored Ayra in his wildness at least that she knew.
As it was inevitable when one thinks of a Stark they see the wolves. Ayra remembered Nymeria, she was alive that she knew but she was wild. Two of her sibling's wolves were dead, whether their owners were she could not be certain.
Ayra had vomited when she overheard a grisly account off the young wolfs head being taken off and true to his name having grey winds head stitched on to replace Robb's. Jaqen had kept her hair from her face and rubbed soothing circles on her back, she swore at him. Another thing to apologise for.
It was with a grudging difference Ayra decided to seek out Jaqen.
Returning Wolfe to the hold Ayra searched out her unfortunate accomplice. He was at the bow of the ship, despite the journey he remained immaculate and Ayra felt the urge to trail her hands through his hair. She quickly dismissed the thought and proceeded to his side.
She knew he had noticed her presence but his eyes stayed firmly on the darkening horizon.
They stayed like that side by side in solemn silence for a few minutes until Ayra broke the silence
"I'm sorry" Ayra finally said, unlike the lies she told as a child there was truth and meaning behind her words. Jaqen turned to face her and for a moment she thought he would embrace her. However, instead he opened his stupid mouth
"Even a girl as lovely as you must do more to appease a man" Ayra glared at him.
Jaqen did not see it coming even with the pre-emptive curl of her lips; Jaqen had no time to prepare and did not expect her to kiss him.
It was practised but new despite the times they had kissed before. But before was for teaching, now was different. Jaqen felt her hands grip is hair but his hands stayed by his side in shock. His lips moved with hers and as he raised his hands to pull her closer she drew back.
With a light shove he was pushed against the railing
"Has a girl done enough?" Ayra whispered. She had acted on impulse and was unsure whether she regretted it and chose to await Jaqen's reaction.
Jaqen's face was unreadable.
To save face she turned on her heel to walk away and was called to a halt
"A girl is forgiven" Ayra smiled and then walked to the cabin to get some sleep.
It was a further two weeks on the ship until they landed in Westeros.
Ayra had used the time to remove the stigma around her name and the false image of the mental girl.
She befriended the shipmates and became a popular member aboard the ship. She charmed men with her fierceness and her uncanny ability to say more curses than most men in almost every tongue known.
The ship harboured at the bay of crabs near maiden pool, it wasn't a big port so there was a lot of attention drawn to their cargo. Ayra had wanted to return to Winterfell, she knew it was a wreck but she had to see her home, but Jaqen persisted they go to kings landing.
Ayra's insistence to not know what had happened in her time away was taking its toll. Jaqen had to tiptoe around the subject of current events; he was desperate for her not to relapse into her depression.
The horses were being transported to kings landing and the owner a Braavosi man named Eli was the lead of the party.
They would travel with the cargo until the two crossroads leading to Kings landing. Jaqen and Ayra would travel through Duskendale but the horses would move along the coastal road.
Traveling with the host was relaxing, as they were transporting horses they could ride instead of walk.
Ayra was in stitches at Jaqen's awkwardness on a horse. He was wary of the animal and it was refreshing to see Jaqen not comfortable with something. He was capable enough but he was not very proficient.
"When you were in Tywin's army didn't you have to ride?" Ayra asked riding up next to him
"A man can ride"
"Not well" Ayra pointed out, Jaqen turned away
"A man no matter how charming is still a sore loser" Ayra teased at Jaqen's expense.
They journeyed for Maiden pool from the bay and stayed in a mediocre inn.
Once more Jaqen and Ayra shared a room. Winter fell heavy on Westeros and fires were lit all around, winds picked up and all were grateful for the gentle solace of a warm inn and a roof beneath their heads. Snow built up and snowed in the host for two extra days than planned.
It was within those days that Jaqen approached Ayra on a topic both had dreaded. Ayra was sat cross-legged on the floor by the fire. She was attempting to find Nymeria but it seemed impossible for her to connect. She heard Jaqen as he slipped inside.
He sat down next her and Ayra reached out and entwined her fingers with is.
"You have to tell me don't you" Ayra said shuffling closer to Jaqen
"Yes my lovely girl"
"First tell me if their all dead, all my family, are they gone?"
"No your sister lives as do your three brothers"
"Jaqen Bran and Rickon are dead your wrong" Jaqen touched her cheek and turned her face so she was looking him in the eye.
"Your brothers live I am not mistaken" Ayra took a second to take in that two of her brothers had come back from the dead.
Ayra flung her arms around Jaqen burying her heading his neck. It was the start of a long night which involved throwing things, crying, shouting and overwhelming joy. Yet still Ayra and Jaqen had limited knowledge.
They only had words from others and all they truly knew was that a dragon queen had come and Azor Ahai reborn was not the cold faced king but someone with long claws and a face of snow and ice.
She learned of the death of Petyr Baelish and the dagger which her sister had flung into his heart. She learned of the fall of house Lannisters. She learned many things but it all seemed to give her more questions than anything.
The fire embers glowed faintly in the late night. Ayra was drained physically and mentally.
Jaqen had been given the brunt force of her emotions and was exhausted but watched with fascination at Ayra's face her eyes were heavy and their hands were still interlocked.
Jaqen felt something for Ayra but he didn't want admit to it. For her he had become Jaqen H'ghar, he had been her teacher, her friend, her enemy even her lover but never had she been his.
Now that was all he wanted.
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