Arya woke up early the next morning to the sound if Niah knocking things over in the kitchen. Her head throbbed like mad. She had never drank so much to make her feel this way. Hopping out of bed, Arya clutched the sides of her head with her hands, hoping it would help relieve the ache. Sadly, it hadn't helped.

It took a few hours for her hangover to wear off, and she was her full self again. A letter had been given to her by a member of the Faceless Men only a few hours earlier. Her eyes now scanned the paper. There were three names. Arya looked at each one carefully, picturing their faces; faces of the men she would be assassinating on this very day.

The first man was very hairy, Arya noticed as she looked down from where she perched in a window within the alleyways. The man was carrying a bag that looked to be very heavy and uncomfortable against his back. Arya pulled a hollowed bamboo stick from her pocket, putting it to her lips and blowing. The poisoned dart landed in back of the man's neck, exactly where she had aimed. He fell with a small "thump" to the ground, dead in an instant, no time to shout for help or even let a moan of pain seep past his lips.

Glancing around for any on-comers, then seeing none, Arya hopped out of the window and onto the cobbled alleyway path with, sound being made as she landed on her bare feet. She always went with bare feet when she was on the job. Light and quiet as a cat, she thought to herself, smiling. She pulled the poison dart from the man's neck then pulled the bag from his lifeless hands, inspecting what was inside. Loaves of bread, one or two cheese wheels, and a bottle of one of the finest-colored wines Arya had ever seen. She closed the bag and hid it next to a barrel where no one would bother with it.

Once the man's body was taken care of, Arya killed the other two from her list. She was upset when she found nothing of value on them, so she quickly took care of the bodies, anxious to get back to her hidden treasure of food and fine wine. When she found her way back to the barrel the bag was gone. She turned around in circles, wondering if she had the right alley. She did, of course. Arya Stark knew the streets, alleys, even the hidden paths of Braavos. Someone had stolen her prize and this made her angry. Teeth clenched in anger, she turned and made her way to the main square. No one there had the bag, so she searched on. The tavern was bare, as was the brothel and the market. Arya gave up searching. She could always find another way of getting a fine wine into her hands.

The stream was warm, so she decided to clean herself. She went from a dusty color to her normal peachy skin. She never realized how she could get so dirty just by killing a man. She dried quickly with her shirt for the second time in the last few days, then dressed herself. Her shirt was not as wet as it had been the previous time, so she didn't feel too exposed.

The sun was in the western sky when Arya returned home. She saw that her door was ajar slightly, so she drew her dagger from the sheath and pushed open the creaky door. Niah walked out as if nothing had even happened. A mouse must have caught her eye, because she darted across the path. Arya walked into the house, dagger in front of her. Further in she went, only to hear the door close behind her, which made her spin around, eyes wide.

"A girl would be dead or dying if I were a different man, one likely seeking vengeance for a friends death," apparently he felt comfortable coming into her house when she was not there.

"I would not," Arya argued, sheathing her dagger. "Those men were on my list. No one saw me." Just then she noticed the bag in Jaqen's hand. She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms around her front. "Ah, but I presume that you saw me."

Jaqen laughed, setting the bag on the table and standing closer to her. "A man sees everything, a girl has not learned how."

Arya hit his arm with her hand playfully, which made him smile. "I will learn," Arya was determined to learn anything that would be for her benefit. "If you teach me." She stepped away from him when he didn't say anything. She inspected the bag's contents. The bread and cheese where still there, but the wine was missing. "Where is it?" She looked over at Jaqen, frowning.

"A man has seen what wine does to a girl," Jaqen eyed her, a smile still on his lips. "It makes you unable to process what is right and what is wrong. A man has witnessed such things."

"I was able to process everything that night," Arya said, then looked down. "Well, minus the fact that I got stabbed with my own dagger by a warlock, but that means nothing." Remembering what had happened, Arya instinctively reached to touch her shoulder. The pain had gone, but slight numbness replaced it. She didn't like the way it felt.

Jaqen looked at her shoulder, then reached beside a cabinet to grab the bottle of fine wine. How had I not seen that? Arya wondered, but shrugged it off as Jaqen sat the wine on the table and stepped close to her again. "Does the bandage need changed?" Jaqen asked as he looked at the bandage which covered the knife wound.

"I'm sure it does," Arya half-cared right now. Jaqen's closeness made her feel happy, yet it made her feel something else that she had never felt before. He stepped away from her for only a moment to grab the strips of fabric and the clear liquid from the cabinet. Arya pulled her loose-hanging shirt down over her shoulder so that he could redo the bandage. He was fairly quick doing so, his hands moving expertly as he tied the strips. Once he finished Arya pulled her shirt back over her shoulder. "I thought you would have shown up a bit earlier," she admitted as silence took over the room.

Jaqen put away the supplies and turned back to her. "A man was busy with his work."

"Yet you had time to watch me, take my rightful prize, and hide in my home?" Arya almost laughed as she said this, knowing full well he spent the day watching her.

"A girl is smart," Jaqen let out a low laugh and shrugged his shoulders. "A man was only busy watching the beautiful girl work."

Arya blushed at this. "Your flattery is distracting," she admitted, coming closer to him this time. "How will I do my work when all I can think of is how you make me smile? I would make a mistake, hit the wrong spot on a man I must kill and send him screaming and running with my dagger in his belly. I would be found out."

"A girl has an honest point," Jaqen said, tracing her lower arm lightly with his fingertips. "Maybe a man will just have to stop flattering a girl and leave so she does not become distracted."

Arya hated how he played with his words, yet she loved it. The hairs on her arm prickled at his touch. "I don't think so," Arya said, grabbing his hands in hers. "The only way I will ever get anything done is if my needs are satisfied."

Jaqen grinned, then pulled her close, resting a hand on her lower back. "A girl is determined," he said quietly, leaning down and kissing along her jaw to her chin, then pressed his lips firmly to hers. She returned his kiss, her body relaxing against his.

They went at this for a while, kissing and nibbling at each other, but only that. Arya wished for more, but only knew that Jaqen would tell her that she wasn't ready, as he had before. Yet, maybe she really wasn't ready. The kissing was enough for her in that moment. Intimate, yet not overly intimate.

Arya convinced Jaqen to stay the night, promising him that nothing more than kissing would happen. They had fallen asleep next to each other, hand in hand. The last thing that Arya had remembered was waking up to see a pair of tiny reflective eyes looking up at her from the end of the bed, then the sound of purring, which made her fall back into her sleeping state.