Sorry for any mistakes in grammar/spelling. Sincerely apologise for delay but cannot promise anything. Valar Morghulis.
Jaqen was a man of patience; he had an infuriating amount of it in fact. Often it was ironic how much Jaqen's patience could drive other men to lose theirs so quickly.
However, patience was not the case when there was a man leaned up close to Arya. Jaqen was desperate to rid himself of the host; he had not made it his obligation to socialize with the crew unlike Arya, who by their eventual harbouring knew everyone's life stories off by heart.
It was through his lack of interest to charm his peers he found himself chained to Arya for company. They had been on the road and as a man of the free cities the cold was unbearable. Arya was a summer child yet she seemed to belong in the high winds and snow. Her grey eyes mirrored the sky's dim glow and Jaqen's exotic appearance marked him indefinitely.
Even in Pentos where they dyed their hair blues and greens he would be looked at twice. That was, only if he wanted to though.
Jaqen found himself often wondering what he was like in the start. Unlike Arya who despite becoming no-one still managed to retain some of Arya, Jaqen had no recollection of his original self.
Jaqen H'ghar was not his true name, but it was enough. Enough for Arya.
The problem he now encountered was due to Jaqen's disregard of his fellows that he did not realise a threat. Jaqen was forced to concede that the man was handsome, but he disliked the way his hands reached towards Arya, and his dark eyes glittered like black diamonds when she turned in a way to show some bust.
So it was with dark eyes Jaqen had watched from a distance drinking the cleanest water they could provide, ale inhibited his senses and it was with great amusement for him when Arya ordered a mug of milk.
It was then the Florian with the eyes and hands swooped in leaving Jaqen to brood alone. The pair would split off soon and it was with gritted teeth Jaqen witnessed the man offer Arya her beloved horse, Wolfe.
It was to this Jaqen swept in depositing a sack of coins in the boy's hand, speaking with a smile of nothing but cold, that could rival the very winter "we'll take two. Thank you" Arya glared.
Jaqen smiled.
The man shifted uncomfortably before the rest of Arya's acquaintances gathered her up and said their goodbyes. A fool who did the heavy lifting on deck was the only one brave or more likely dumb enough to approach the stoic man. Jaqen flashed a small smile to the gentle giant who walked away smiling too after received acceptance of his farewell.
The winds were rising and snowfall began again, Jaqen was thankful for the excuse to hurry up the goodbyes, Jaqen was given pathetic thing of a horse.
It was with ill-concealed annoyance Jaqen was forced to decline the horse and buy one of the better suited stallions with his gold, Arya named it rude within the second they turned to get the beast.
Jaqen would have argued his case, however feeble it was, but she was soon swept up once more in hugs and well wishes. Arya was blissfully unaware of Jaqen's jealousy and put it down to him just being a bastard.
Once they were out of sight Jaqen breathed easy, it was just the two of them. Jaqen's breathe constricted; it was just the two of them. Suddenly Jaqen felt hot despite the desperate chill which seeped through the whole of Westeros.
Silence stretched before the pair as they rode, the only noises came from the violent wind or the braying horses. Arya's stubbornness made poor company and any attempt at conversation was quickly silenced with an icy tongue.
The howling winds did not soothe the tear between them either as any plea of forgiveness fell on deaf ears. They had planned to ride to an inn, the maiden's skirt, but weather seemed to have forsaken them, snow piled high and the horses shivered beneath their riders.
Jaqen moved his horse towards Arya's and beckoned towards the sky and a narrow road which could possibly lead to shelter. Even through anger Arya understood the cold, old Nan had told her many stories. Together they swerved off the main road, aware the now almost blizzard was rising.
The snow fell slower through the trees but the wind still cried drunkenly.
Jaqen thanked the Gods when Arya signalled to a well hidden jut in the snow, what seemed to be a rough cave loomed through a slight clearing. A crags overhang made a perfect place for the horses, they protested slightly but Jaqen only glared at the animals.
A deceptively small opening in the cave led to a large cavern type shelter, they couldn't light a fire due to the smoke but the wind was silenced and the cold was not as deathly.
The pair continued in quiet stripping off the soaked through layers of clothes. They worked together passing between each other. The interior was surprisingly spacious. They set out their bedrolls; Jaqen allowed himself a small smile as Arya pushed her bedroll next to his. Arya sat down on the rolls bringing some light furs with her, Jaqen sat next to her lying down, propping himself up with his elbows. Arya offered him some salted meat. They chewed in silence sharing a skin of water, Jaqen watched Arya the whole time, and his eyes followed her hands and lips.
'Stop watching me Jaqen'
'I don't know what you mean lovely girl' Jaqen watched her brows furrow
'You were a right bastard earlier'
'I suppose-'
'It was a statement Jaqen' she spat
'A man apologises'
'I don't want a man too, I want you too' Arya said her voice less heated; Jaqen wanted to smile but instead sat up.
He brought her hands to his; they were not soft but rough and calloused from hard work. Jaqen smiled to himself and Arya looked on at him leaning closer until she was almost sitting on his lap.
Jaqen played with her hands murmuring in Lysenese. The moment was interrupted by the crash of thunder accompanied with then horse's manic cries, but Jaqen didn't hear a thing.
He lost himself. Not like how he lost himself by becoming one of the faceless men, that transition he could not even remember. That made his real self-feel dead.
He had been reborn as Jaqen H'ghar but he wasn't losing his identity, he was losing his control and logical thought. Somehow it made him want to smile; he was losing himself in Arya. To hell with rationality.
Jaqen guided Ayra's hands to his shoulders, pulling her onto his lap. Arya's arms wound round his neck, and their foreheads grazed against each other.
The light was minimal and a blue hue surrounded the pair as lightening flashed electric blue.
Jaqen noted the storm and his mind travelled back to Bravos as his hands skimmed over Arya's body. Bravos had storms like no other; tempests were a drunken mess of hot rain and cracks of lightening. The sky burned red and blue as hot pellets of water bounced off the dry city. Thunder sang and naked children swam in the humid air, the clouds roiled spilling over their very world.
Jaqen could feel the heat as he skimmed his nose across Arya's cheek. She was now straddling him her breath was hot and ragged on his face.
'I'm sorry for being a craven and a bastard' Jaqen murmured. Hot rain soaked his skin. Jaqen's hand twisted into her hair. People laughed and screamed in summer storms. Jaqen lost himself. Thunder wailed and lightning danced. Jaqen slipped and fell into bliss.
Then the lightning tore at his skin and the water turned to cold dead ash.
Arya tore away, scrambling from Jaqen, his mind cleared.
The fog rose and Jaqen heard the storm roll on, but not the storms of hot Braavosi but the cold harsh wails of winter. Arya's face was a mask of horror and confusion, Jaqen's was much the same.
Stupidity overwhelmed him, he was a faceless man, and yet he was acting like a green boy on the first fields of war.
It took a while for Jaqen to realise no mask could change what he had done, and still Jaqen asked what he had done. There was no escape in the enclosed space, the cold was stronger than ever and it was Arya who recovered quickest.
She turned passive bringing the furs to the bedrolls and lying down. The winds howled a while longer until Jaqen composed himself moving to Arya's side. The heat that had consumed him not so long ago now felt like ice piercing his chest.
Arya was nothing but a Stark in that moment. Her face was carved like ice her eyes grey like the cold, her fury white like the ancient weir woods.
Jaqen slipped next to her encircling his arms round her small frame to ensure heat. He winced inside as Arya tensed.
The pair closed their eyes and listened to the raging storm thinking of anything but… what happened.
Arya didn't dream and Jaqen didn't smirk. The morning brought ice. Jaqen was a craven and he knew it, he knew as soon as he talked to Arya as if the night before was a dream. He knew Arya thought herself a craven as she answered with equal indifference. Their usual banter wasn't strained and smiles flowed with ease. No difference was had in their routine, except Jaqen didn't stare and Arya didn't put light touches to his arms or hair.
The rain had washed the snow to slush but left deadly ice and the horses made their protests loud and clear. Once they were packed the duo decided they would reach the inn on foot. Walking with the horses they continued on, chewing salted meat which tasted like ash.
The going was slow but the wind was a mere whisper, they spoke in Braavosi for comfort. Their talk was that of childhoods, Arya spoke with passion about her family.
'It was so large, all fourteen of us'
'Fourteen lovely girl?'
'You have to count our…um' Arya stopped walking her face scrunched in concentration. Jaqen was about to question her motives for stopping before
'I don't know the word Jaqen' she still spoke in Braavosi but Jaqen answered with her common tongue
'Word for what lovely girl' Arya opened her mouth her face a mess of hurt and self-loathing.
'Dire wolf' she whispered 'I don't know dire wolf'
'There is no such word in Braavosi' Jaqen too had come to a halt 'there were never such creatures in the hot Braavosi lands, they are unknown beasts there, dire wolves are creatures of the north, beyond the wall and men'
'Oh'
Snow fall began again and they trekked on Arya stopped talk of her family and dire wolves were forgotten. Instead she told stories, still she lost the passion in her telling and Jaqen lost his wish to converse.
They finally came to their village, the horses spooked, dead bodies lay on the ground. The smell suggested they had been dead a long time but the cold said otherwise. The town was half rebuilt and their eye was instantly drawn to a large hanging post. There was nothing left of the body but above its skull carved the words lord Tarly a craven to the end killed on order of rulers of Westeros your… The wood it was carved on suffered rot, and what they assumed was the name of the murderer was lost.
Jaqen disliked having the horse's noise but disliked even more the prospect of having them taken and walking to kings landing. As they were told an inn was located in the desolate town, but its interior had a glow which suggested inhabitants.
They were cautious leading up to the inn keep, a rusted knocker hung from the door. The noise resounded and silence fell as whatever chatter inside stopped. Arya took hold of Jaqen's arm.
Suddenly the door flung open and Jaqen was dragged inside and pinned against a wall, his arms protecting Arya, she thought differently and her knife was at the assailant's throat.
'You better put that down little bitch' the attacker threatened
'Leave it kayl' the man was pushed away and Arya lowered the knife pushing to be by Jaqen's side.
Another man then stepped towards them, he wore a long yellow coat, it was faded but Arya knew who he was.
'Lem what are you doing just kill them' Lem ignored the shout from the previous man
'Who do you support' Arya wanted to reveal her identity but Jaqen stepped in
'We are from the free cities I am afraid we support no one' his voice was sincere but Arya knew better
'And the girl' Lem said beckoning to Arya
'A mute she is my wife, we are simply travellers' Arya felt the need to protest but knew she could not, instead she gritted her teeth and seethed silently.
'So what we doing with 'em Lem' another asked. With a quick glance around Jaqen saw over twenty men, mismatched and ragged, but carrying weapons.
'We'll take them to the lady' the first man stepped forward
'Why not just kill him' he sneered at Arya 'I suppose we could keep the bitch though' Jaqen felt Arya's anger boil and moved to face the man
'You will do no such thing' the menace in Jaqen almost scared Arya. almost. The tension rose and some raised themselves from their seats.
Finally Lem made the decision 'we are the brotherhood without banners and were taking them to Lady Catelyn Stark, that's final' Arya felt like someone had punched her. Her mother was alive.
'Lock 'em up'
Jaqen and Arya were led to a room stripped of their possessions and locked in. Jaqen held out his arms and Arya embraced him. Together they stood joined together, tears fell from Arya's horrified eyes. Jaqen whispered comforts.
Outside it began to rain, cold pellets of ice.