A/N: This is Arya's last chapter. And things'll get a little bit funky with some of the narration when I start the sequel, but I'll explain that when we come to it. Special thanks in this one to my beta reader (and sister) GrowlingPeanut, for not only looking over this for glaring errors, but also for teaching me what she learned in self defense class. It helped with the training scene. And...reviews are appreciated.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Softworks and George R. R. Martin.

Rating: T for language and sexual references

When Arya woke to the feeling of a warm body pressed closely against her own, she nearly leapt from the bed, but as the events of the previous night returned to her, she stilled.

Jaqen, still very much asleep judging by the cadence of his breathing, had his chest resting against the bare skin of her back and one hand rested lightly against the curve of her left breast. The sensation of having him—all of him—so close against her body brought a familiar warmth to pit of her stomach and she squirmed a bit in frustration.

The movement roused Jaqen from his slumber and Arya turned to face him as he opened his eyes. After a moment, in which the dark blue eyes that so deeply fascinated her roamed lazily across her nude form, his long eyelashes fluttered back down and he sighed.

"A girl does not belong here."

Though she knew what he was referring to, she nodded and replied quietly, "I'll be gone before sunset." At that, her trainer looked at her sharply, the unspoken question written plainly in his gaze.

"Ulfric is taking more men."

"A girl is not a man," Jaqen murmured softly in reply.

Arya sighed. "Jaqen, this is what I was going to do before I met you at the inn. This is how I can get revenge. This...this is the only way I can live again."

Any response from Jaqen was interrupted by a voice from outside and the sudden slamming of the door against the wall as it flew open. "H'ghar! The Listener wants to...well I never!"

Arya turned to see Nazir leaning casually in the doorway, a triumphant smirk spreading across his features. "So this is why our Illusionist took such an interest in his young protégé..."

Scowling, Arya stood up and stalked toward the Redguard, still managing to look imposing despite her small stature and advanced stage of undress. "Not a word."

He laughed loudly but put up his hands in concession. "As you command, my lady." He threw a wink at his fellow assassin before walking back out, still chuckling under his breath.

"Now look what you've done," Arya grumbled, shooting a glare at Jaqen as he watched her pull on the leather armor that Solara had given her.

"A man has done nothing," he replied innocently, perfectly aware of her own attempt at subtly admiring his figure. "He did not ask a girl to crawl naked into his bed."

At that, Arya turned away and sighed heavily, muttering to herself under her breath. "No. And Vilkas didn't either."

A moment of silence followed as Jaqen rose and dressed, and when Arya finally turned to face him again, he was regarding her with a look that she couldn't quite interpret.

"What?" she asked self-consciously, her arm involuntarily moving to wrap around her waist in an old gesture of insecurity.

He offered a hand before responding. "One final day of training? A girl still has things to learn."

Smiling, Arya nodded and hesitated for only a moment before slipping her hand into his. "Alright. But you're not going to convince me to stay."

Jaqen shrugged. "A man expected nothing less."

They were greeted in the main room by their fellow assassins and though Arya had assumed that Jaqen would tell them that she was planning to leave, he stayed strangely quiet through the duration of breakfast, a fact for which she was grateful. Even though she had only known each of them for a short amount of time, it would be hard for her to leave them all; and one in particular.

Once they had finished eating, Jaqen excused himself to talk with Solara and Cicero, and Aventus Aretino took the chair that Jaqen had left empty.

"You're lucky to have Illusionist H'ghar as your trainer, you know." He said matter-of-factly. The way he referred to the man in mention made her smile, but she didn't interrupt as she continued. "I mean, I know I have a good trainer too, because Cicero has to be one of the best if our Listener...well, you know." He gave her a knowing look and Arya bit back a laugh. She most certainly did know, but highly doubted that the young man beside her knew nearly as much as he thought he did.

"And of course, our Listener is the best Dark Brotherhood assassin that's ever walked on Nirn, but I'd say that Lord H'ghar is second. Which means that you'll be better than me too someday."

This time, Arya did laugh, and she gave Aventus a fond smile. "You don't know that. Keep up your training and you may even surpass our dear 'Lord H'ghar'."

"Lord?" The soft voice from behind her chair made her jump slightly and a blush crept to her cheeks. "A man did not know that he had been made lord of anything. Do I have a castle now, young master Aretino?" The boy giggled and shook his head as Jaqen reached out to ruffle his hair before shooing him away.

Arya held his gaze for a moment, and when she finally looked away, Jaqen sighed. "Is a girl ready for today's lesson?"

She nodded and stood, following him out of the Sanctuary and onto the beach where she had first discovered what her destiny entailed. Drawing her sword from its scabbard, she danced away across the sand, slashing at invisible foes as she chanted the mantra that Jaqen had once taught to her in another life.

"Swift as a deer, quiet as a shadow, quick as a snake, calm as still water!" With that, she plunged her sword into the swirling waters at her feet and then drew it out again so that the water rippled gently against her ankle. Jaqen smiled slightly as he watched her, walking alongside the waterline.

"Strong as a bear, fierce as a wolverine." She stopped moving and met his gaze. "Fear cuts deeper than swords."

Jaqen nodded. "Good. A girl remembers that which she has been taught. But there is still more for her to learn, and more for a man to teach."

They reached their usual forest clearing within a few minutes and Jaqen reached beneath the sleeve of his leather armor to withdraw a strip of linen. It took Arya a moment before she realized what it would be used for and her eyes widened slightly.

"I'm not ready."

"Yes you are," Jaqen murmured quietly, breaking out of his usual pattern of speech as he moved to stand behind her. "I know that you are." His dexterous fingers moved swiftly as they tied the linen around her eyes and once it was secure, he stepped away.

"What can you see?"

After a moment, once her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Arya tried to look down, for any spot where the light from the sun might be shining through a break in the linen blindfold, but all she could see was... "Nothing."

"Good. Draw your sword."

Reluctantly, she pulled it from its scabbard and assumed her traditional defensive stance. She had been dreading the repetition of this particular exercise ever since her first attempt—and failure. Apparently, he had decided that her last day with the Brotherhood was as good a time as any for her to be slaughtered by her trainer.

"A man will fight the way that he has taught you," Jaqen began, his voice growing louder and softer in volume as he walked around her. "So that you will know where to block each strike. A girl can do this. Just use your ears, your nose, your lips...a true assassin can taste a change in the wind that tells him where his enemies lie."

Arya nodded and took a deep breath. I can do this, gods damn it. He won't hurt me. Fear cuts deeper than swords.

Without warning, Jaqen twirled his sword in her direction, nicking her abdomen before she was able to block his next strike as it fell toward her head. "A man will fight the way he has taught you." They had been training fifteen hours a day for nearly a quarter of the moons, and she knew the steps that he had taught her.

Purely on instinct, she turned away from their crossed swords and slashed diagonally across his torso, grabbing his hand when he blocked her strike and pushing it back against his chest in an attempt to disarm him. Though he managed to keep his sword, the move threw him slightly off balance and he was slow in his next attack, giving her time to remember the next step in their well-practiced dance and parry his blow with ease.

Her success gave her confidence and she gradually began to stop trying to search for movement through the linen. Her other senses picked up what had been hidden from her before and she was able to use each soft rustle of leather and the familiar wafting scent of juniper to gauge her mentor's movement and meet each of his attacks with one of her own.

By the time they had gone through the motions enough times for her to move without thought, Jaqen switched to defense and after a short moment of panic, she was able to shift her role and fight back with precision.

After several hours, Arya was used to the feeling of being blind and it was the change in Jaqen's breathing that alerted her to the fact that their training was over for the day, or at least for the moment. Letting her sword drop to the ground, she let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding and walked her fingers along her waist until she found the small break in her armor and the cut beneath.

"Now a girl understands. She does not need her eyes to see..." The sultry purr of his voice was closer than she'd anticipated and she froze when his hand covered her own, cold against the exposed skin where Jaqen's sword had torn her armor. A moment later, she felt his breath, warm and gentle against her face, and a pair of lips pressed softly against her own. He tasted like honey, sweeter than the sweetest wine she'd ever drank. He made her feel alive again, and it terrified her.

Her mouth moved against his and her lips parted slightly as she whispered into his kiss. "I can't..."

Jaqen sighed and as she felt his warmth leave her, she hastened to explain. "It just...I—"

"A girl does not need to explain herself," Jaqen replied curtly, his voice giving away the distance he had put between them. "A man has overstepped his boundaries."

"No." Arya slowly removed the cloth from around her eyes and opened them to meet his gaze. "She...I do, want you, Jaqen...it's just," She looked down at her hands and finished in a whisper. "It's too soon." The pain of Vilkas' death was still too real for her to ignore, even more so when she allowed herself to give in to what she was beginning to feel for Jaqen.

Jaqen's gaze softened and he gave Arya a small smile, moving back toward her and running his thumb smoothly across her jaw. "Then a man will wait. Forever if that is what it takes to have his lovely girl."

"Thank you," she replied quietly, blushing at the sincerity in his tone.

He gave a short nod and after a moment of silence, Arya spoke up again. "They need to pay for what they did." A part of her wanted to believe that if she could get revenge for Vilkas' murder, she could face the growing feelings she had for her fellow assassin.

Jaqen nodded again and his brow furrowed slightly. "A man knows that a girl must leave." After a brief pause he spoke again, his tone one of wry amusement. "And since this infuriating girl is his weakness, he will help her."

Her eyes rose to meet his. "Help me? How?"

His lips curved into a smile. "A man is a master of Illusion is he not? It would not do for Arya of House Stark to join the Stormcloak army. There would only be more pain if that were so. But a young bastard boy from the North?" He nodded in approval. "That will do."

Arya took a deep breath and stared at her reflection in the mirror as Jaqen picked up the dagger from the small table beside them. He was right about what he had said. If Arya Stark didn't exist anymore, she would have no reason to grieve.

When Jaqen met her gaze in the mirror and lifted an eyebrow, she nodded and watched as he brought the blade to her dark hair and started cutting, ignoring the locks that tumbled down to rest on the floor and the table. Aside from cutting off her hair, Jaqen had already thickened her eyebrows and given her the effect of dark stubble with a stick of charcoal and though the disguise was crude, it was effective, and only bathing without recreating the aforementioned features would give her away.

When he was finished, her hair was cut short, messy and curled around her ears. The haircut was bad, but it would have to do. Evening was already approaching, so they were short on time.

"Stand," Jaqen said curtly, breaking the silence between them and tossing aside the dagger as she obeyed his command. Turning her around, he deftly untied the laces of her tunic and then glanced toward the closed door before retrieving a roll of linen as Arya self-consciously slipped out of her shirt and let it fall to the ground.

As Jaqen turned back toward her, he briefly met her gaze with a small smile before binding her breasts tightly with the linen to hide the only remaining obvious sign of her true identity. Leaving her to her own devices, he tossed her one of his tunics and she caught it with her usual lack of grace before putting it on over the ragged brown trousers she had tied around her waist with a frayed rope.

When she was finished, she turned back to face Jaqen, and then gave a small twirl. "So, do I look like a boy?"

He smiled and shrugged. "You will to those who wish to see you as one. That is the trick of an illusion, remember? To me, you will always be my lovely girl."

Arya met his gaze in silence for a moment before stepping forward and wrapping her arms tightly around him. "I'll miss you," she whispered against his neck, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall.

Returning the embrace, Jaqen sighed heavily and then pulled away after a moment, smiling sadly and wiping away a single tear that had made its way slowly down to rest against her bottom lip.

"You must not," he replied quietly, though his dark eyes mirrored her pain and sorrow. "Emotions will only hinder that which a girl must do. You have been taught, Arya of House Stark; remember not to feel."

"But...how can I pretend that I'm not..." She hesitated, the words dying on her lips. He was right. Admitting her feelings would only bring her more pain. Her fate with Vilkas had proven that time and time again.

Sticking her dagger through the belt, she took a deep breath and turned toward the door. Jaqen had showed her another way out of the Sanctuary that would lead to the road out of Dawnstar, and that was the path she would take. After that, it was up to him to deflect the questions that would arise once her disappearance was noticed.

Her hand faltered against the door and she looked back one more time at the man who stood watching her go. "Jaqen..." He raised an eyebrow and she smiled. "Thank you."

Without waiting for his response, she pushed aside the door and walked out, leaving her life as Arya Stark behind so that one day she could return to it without the pain it now carried.

The journey along the darkened roads to Windhelm was slow, but her thoughts kept her busy, and when she reached the gates at sunrise, it felt as though mere minutes had passed. Entering the city of her forefathers, she waded through the snowy streets with little effort and made her way toward the Palace of Kings. Throwing open the doors, she entered the long hall only to find it empty, completely empty.

"Jarl Ulfric?" She wasn't exactly sure how to address the man, but figured that would do.

A moment of silence was the only answer to her call before she heard iron boots against the polished wood floors and a familiar man entered the hall.

"Lord Stormcloak has just left for Falkreath. May I help you, boy?"

Arya stared helplessly at her eldest brother, who she hadn't seen since the day of their father's death so many years ago. He seemed irritated and when she continued to stare dumbly, he repeated his question. "I asked if I could help you."

"Y-yes," she stammered, cursing herself for not preparing for this inevitable meeting. "I want to join the Stormcloaks."

At that, Robb raised an eyebrow and he appraised her for a moment. "Hm. Well, we can always use more...able bodied men..." He sighed. "You would benefit from a bit of training, but you should make do. What's your name, lad?"

Arya closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders. "Snow. Arry Snow."