There was a celebration going on. People walked about, speaking fast and laughing. Arya had learned the Braavosi language over time, but it was still hard for her to understand what everyone was saying. The people's clothing were made with many different colors, all bright. She spotted a few people with darker clothing. These were the rich people of Braavos. They never wore the bright colors. Arya pushed past a crowd of young girls who were giggling and pointing at a tall man across the stone square.
The sun was high in the sky again, raining warmth upon her skin as she made her way out of the crowd. She hadn't received any word today on who she would be assassinating, so she decided to get to the tavern and earn more coin.
The fact that there was a celebration meant more customers and more coin. The tavern was cooler inside when she walked in. She wiped a line of sweat from her face and walked ahead of a group of men waiting to get a drink. She stepped behind the counter and grabbed a metal pitcher then filled it with the cold ale from a barrel and filled five tankards.
"Took long enough," one of the men grunted, handing out each tankard to his friends. He spoke her language, but with a hint of the Braavosi accent.
Arya looked around the room, realizing that her other coworkers were nowhere to be found. Most likely they were outside enjoying the celebrations. The man sat a small pouch of coins on the counter, then stalked off to a table in the corner of the room with the others. She grabbed the pouch and put it in her pocket. The door opened and two women walked in, followed by two men. The women were laughing quite happily when Arya walked up to them.
"If you're going to leave the tavern please lock it up, Lonna," Arya sounded annoyed.
The fair skinned woman, Lonna, nodded. "I just went to find my love." She smiled and snaked her hand around the taller man's back.
"Make sure this doesn't happen again," Arya eyed Lonna, then went back behind the counter. The five men had finished their drinks and were getting up to leave, so she went to grab the tankards. Ale had been sloshed all over the table, the tankards knocked over, the gold colored liquid dripping from the rim. Arya heaved a sigh, cleaning off the table, when she heard the sound of a man clearing his throat. She turned around quickly, only to see Jaqen smiling at her.
"A girl serves as a tavern wench when she is not killing," he said, the smile still on his lips.
"I am not a tavern wench," Arya growled, turning and picking up the tankards. She walked to the counter and sat them down, getting a cloth to clean them. Jaqen had followed her and he was now leaning forward, resting his arms on the counter and watching her.
"Ok, a girl is not a tavern wench," he quipped, looking around the room. "Can a man get a drink?"
Arya looked up from cleaning the tankards and stared at Jaqen for a moment. "Sure," she finally said, grabbing a glass instead of a metal tankard. She poured the golden ale into the glass and added a clear liquid to it, then handed it to him. "It's my specialty drink."
His eyes scanned the drink as he picked it up, then he looked at Arya and took swig of it. He let the taste fill his mouth before he swallowed it. A smirk then made its way to his lips. "A girl makes a strong drink."
This made Arya grin. Everyone loved the way she made her special drink. Jaqen placed five coins on the counter, pushing them toward her, but she shoved them back at him. "I don't want your coin." This made Jaqen frown slightly in confusion.
"A man always pays for his drink," Jaqen explained, pushing the coins back towards her. Arya shoved them back at him.
"It's a gift," she argued, raising her eyebrows at him. "You don't need to pay for a gift that I give."
To her satisfaction, he nodded, putting the coins back into his pocket. He finished his drink and then handed her the glass. She cleaned it and put it away, then finished cleaning the tankards. She would look up from her work occasionally to see him staring at her. She felt her face go warm, but dismissed it as she put the clean tankards away. She turned away from him, pretending to look for something, but really she was hiding a smile. Taking a moment, she drew in a deep breath, then turned back around to face him.
"Do you want anything else?" Arya asked, covering the clear liquid with a lid.
"A man wants a girl to come with him to the celebration," Jaqen began, moving his hand towards hers. "A girl will have fun."
When he took her hand in his, Arya's stomach clenched, making her breath hitch in her throat. She nodded quickly, stepping from around the counter, still holding onto his hand. Jaqen smiled and walked with her to the door.
"Lonna," Arya snapped at the woman who was now kissing her man's face. "Take over. I'm done for the day."
As they walked out into the crowd of people Jaqen held her hand tighter, as though if he let go he would lose her in the masses. Arya liked the way his hand felt in hers. She had never been close to a man, let alone hold a man's hand this way.
The crowd of people started dancing and Arya could hear the Braavosi music playing loudly across the square. Jaqen stopped and looked at her, a half-smile on his face. "Does a girl like to dance?"
Arya chewed her bottom lip. He was asking to dance with her. She nodded quickly, smiling. "I love to dance."
Jaqen's smile grew bigger as she said this, then he pulled her into the crowd with him. She never remembered Jaqen being so open. They danced to the fast-paced music for what felt like forever, only stopping to grab a few drinks from a man selling wine out of his cart. Arya felt her head spin slightly as they danced again. She was sure she had a bit too much wine, but she didn't care.
By the time the music ended the sun was getting lower in the sky. Arya was grinning and holding onto Jaqen's arm for support as they walked out of the square and towards Arya's small home. She was quite sure that Jaqen was drunk, seeing as he had the drink she made for him, plus the many glasses of wine.
The door creaked as they walked into her house. Niah was at their feet in a quick moment, meowing and purring. Arya reached down to pet her, but she felt dizzy, so she stood back up and leaned against Jaqen's side. He walked her to her bedroom and helped her sit. He stood there for a moment, looking at her, then turned away from her.
"A man must go now," he made to go to the other room to leave, but Arya grabbed him by the shirt. She now realized how he was dressed. He wore a fine cream colored shirt and pants of black leather. The shirt was soft in her fingers.
"Don't leave," Arya looked up at him from where she was sitting. She looked into his eyes, eyes she remembered from long ago, eyes of the man who had protected her. To her he was a very handsome man and in that moment she wanted to make him her own. She stood up slowly, trying not to fall over from her drunkenness, and put her hands on either side of his face. His stubble of beard was rough on her hands. She looked into his blue eyes with her gray ones. She stepped closer to him, pulled him closer, then kissed him softly on the lips. She felt him kiss her back ever-so-slightly, then pull away, helping her to sit back down.
"A girl has had much wine," Jaqen sounded as if he didn't want to say it. He backed away from her slowly, but kept staring at her. "A girl shows what she wants, but a man will not act on this when he knows she has had much to drink." He then left the room and Arya heard the door creak as he left the house. The room was dark, the sun had set, but Arya was not tired. She was angry that Jaqen had left.
Arya got up from her bed, steadying herself, then walked to the door. She let Niah out, then stepped out into the cool night air. The celebration had ended, but people were still out in the square, talking and laughing. Lanterns had been lit throughout the streets, so it was easy for Arya to see where she was going. She hadn't wanted Jaqen to leave. She had wanted to kiss him, to make him hers. She kicked a loose stone in frustration.
Niah had followed her along the stone path, occasionally pouncing after a mouse. The sound of people was eventually gone as Arya walked towards the stream where she had bathed the day before. Niah inspected the water, dipped her paw in, then jumped back. Arya couldn't help but laugh. She sat on a big rock next to the stream, letting her feet rest in the cool water. Niah jumped up onto her lap and looked right at Arya.
"You don't understand what it's like," Arya ran her hand through the cat's silky fur. "You can find any male cat and make him your own if you wanted to."
"A male would actually find the female," the voice made Arya jump. She reached for her dagger and stood up, turning around. A young man was standing not too far from her. She recognized him at once. It was the man from the celebration that the young girls were giggling and pointing at. She now realized why. His face was thin, his hair as black as the night, his eyes a bright green. To other girls he would be seen as very good looking.
"What do you want?" Arya held her dagger in her hand.
"I heard you talking, but I didn't see anyone else," the man smiled, putting his hands where she could see them. "I have no weapons."
Arya slowly lowered her dagger, then slid it back into its sheath. "Who are you?"
"Names aren't important, Arya Stark," he stepped closer to her and she stepped back. She felt a wave of fear crash into her. She wanted to run home, bar the door, and hide until morning. Niah hissed quite a few times at the newcomer. Arya found this as a sign to not trust the man in front of her.
Arya reached for her dagger, but she was too slow. The man brought his hand up in front of him and Arya felt a tug at her waist, then saw her dagger floating in front of her. She stared at it for a moment, then it turned in mid-air and jabbed into her right shoulder. She cried out as it struck into her skin. Her knees hit the ground hard and she clutched at the dagger, but it was too painful to move it. The man was coming at her, a dagger of his own appearing in his hand. Arya cried out as he closed the distance between them, about to bring the dagger down on her.
Blood splattered across the rocks beside her, the man's head rolling down and falling into the stream. It got carried away with the water. Arya turned her face to see his body being dragged away from her by a man and dropped onto the rocks. She couldn't make out who had dragged the body away from her, but when he spoke she felt safe again.
"A drunk girl is not careful," Jaqen's voice was as cold as stone. He walked over to her and knelt down, inspecting where the dagger had driven into her shoulder. "The wound is not that deep. It will heal. A man knows." He pulled the dagger from her shoulder in one swift movement. She expected it to hurt, but it only stung slightly. Blood soaked the front of her shirt now.
"I need-" Arya clenched her teeth as she stood, dismissing the pain in her knees and shoulder. "I need to bandage it. I have supplies. Help me get home."
Jaqen pulled her close to him and helped her walk home. Niah followed behind quietly.
"What about the body?" Arya whispered as they entered the house. Jaqen helped her sit down in a chair.
"A man will dispose of the magic man's body," Jaqen said, his voice still cold. "A man must help a girl first."
"No," Arya pushed him away when he tried to inspect the wound again. He raised his eyebrows at her. "You take care of the body right now. I can do this myself."
She could tell by the look in Jaqen's eyes that he didn't want to leave her alone in her current state, but she pointed to the door. He reluctantly walked out of the house. Arya rose from her chair and opened a cabinet. She grabbed a couple strips of long white fabric and a bottle of the clear liquid that she would put in her special drink, setting it on the counter. She pulled her shirt down so that she could see the wound. It was bad, she knew, but it would heal as Jaqen had said.
She removed her blood-stained shirt and dropped it on the floor. The clear liquid burned as she poured it onto the wound. She dabbed it dry with a cloth and noticed that the bleeding had slowed considerably. The long strips of fabric were hard to wrap around her shoulder. She tried several times to wrap it until finally she kicked her chair out of frustration.
The door creaked and she looked over to see Jaqen walk in. She suddenly remembered that her shirt was gone and went to cover her chest, but pain seared through her right arm. She turned away from him and looked down at the wound. Her movements had made it start to bleed more. She closed her eyes and sighed. "I need help."
"A man knows," Jaqen let out a low, rumbling laugh. He picked up a strip of the fabric. "A girl will need to face a man."
Arya rolled her eyes, turning to face him. Now is not the time to be embarrassed, she thought to herself. Jaqen looked into her eyes, then looked at the wound. He carefully laid the strip of fabric across the wound, then wrapped it around behind her, tying it to itself, then doing the same with three more strips until the wound was completely covered.
"How does that feel?" He asked, inspecting his handiwork. "A man has bandaged many a wound."
Arya moved her arm and found that it didn't hurt, which made her smile. "It feels better," she said, then she remembered that she was angry with Jaqen. She turned and grabbed a clean shirt from a basket and pulled it on. Turning, she frowned at Jaqen, who was now smiling. She hit his chest with the back of her hand. "You shouldn't have left."
"A man regrets doing so," His smile was gone now, and he looked like he was hating himself. "A man did what he thought was best."
Arya narrowed her eyes at him, then relaxed her face. She took a breath, gathering her thoughts. She wanted to tell him how she felt, so she decided to get it over with and say everything. "Jaqen," she started, taking his hand into her own. "Years ago I felt lost after you left, and yesterday when you found me again, I felt happy. When we held hands, when we danced, I was happy. When we kissed, I was happy. Jaqen, I'm happy when I'm around you." She was no longer a drunk girl, she was a sober woman, telling a man her feelings.
Jaqen waited a long time to say anything, which made Arya nervous. What if he doesn't feel the same? she wondered. Each second that passed made her more anxious.
"A man is happy when he is near a girl," Jaqen finally spoke. His voice was softer now. He squeezed her hand slightly, a smile coming to his face again. "A man is sorry for leaving a girl and wants to know what he can do to show a girl that he is sorry."
Arya smiled now, reaching up and touching the side of his face. "Kiss me," she whispered.
Jaqen put his arms around her back and pulling her close to him, then he kissed her. He tasted of citrus and mint. Arya felt the electricity between them as she kissed him back. He broke the kiss not a moment later, which made her frustrated at the lack of physical contact.
"A man cannot stay the night," Jaqen whispered, pushing a strand of hair out of her face.
"Why not?" Arya stepped back slightly, catching her breath from the kiss. She wanted him to stay, to be with her.
"A man doesn't want to rush things," he said, looking down at her. "A girl is eager, a man knows."
Arya knew what he meant by that, so she stepped closer to him, running her hands up his strong arms. "When, then?"
"When a girl is sure she is ready," Jaqen spoke carefully, eyeing her now.
"I am ready," Arya blurted, her want for him rising to new heights.
"Has a girl been with any man?" Jaqen asked, eyebrows raised.
Arya bit her lip and looked down. "No," she said slowly. Jaqen put his hand under her chin and lifted her head so that he could look at her.
"Then a girl is not absolutely sure she is ready," he placed a soft kiss on her lips, then stepped back. "A man will go home, a girl will sleep and heal."
"You're coming back tomorrow," Arya demanded, already feeling alone again.
"A man will come back tomorrow," he echoed, opening the door. "Goodnight."
Arya shivered as he left. The cool air swept into the room. Now she realized how alone she was in her little house. As if on cue, Niah jumped up onto the table and nudged at Arya's arm with her head.
"At least I've got you for the night," She said, picking up the cat and cradling her in her arms. The sound of purring filled the room as Arya went to her bed. She covered herself and drifted to sleep, Niah curling up at her side.
She dreamt of magic and death, and then Jaqen filled her dreams. His smile, his laugh, his touch.