I decided to make this chapter because many people asked me what was happening with Arya, and also I realized that it will serve to explain things that will happen later :) I hope you like it. I wrote it two days ago and then I deleted everything and rewrote it all again today.

I have never been in Mumbai, so I wasn't very sure how to write the scenes in the city, and I hope I did at least a decent job with it. All the information that I could get came from the Internet. I hope I can visit the city someday.

Please forgive autocorrect mistakes that might be found around there. I fixed all the ones that I saw.

Enjoy!

33. No Way Out.

Arya made her way through the slums of Mumbai, walking quickly so that she could get to the place where she was living soon. Jaqen must already be home. Well, home.

It was uncomfortable to walk around there, but she had already gotten used to the crowed streets, the strong smells, the vehicles and animals everywhere, and the loud voices of people shouting and talking in a language that she didn't know. She didn't mind, she got used to being in places like those pretty quickly, and she had learned to move around.

Arya couldn't help but compare Mumbai to Westeros, to the North. She had lived almost her entire life in the North, and the only other places where she had lived for longer than a week were King's Landing and Braavos. Apart from those three cities, Mumbai was the place where she had stayed the longest time in the last year and a half, and that was why she couldn't help but compare it. It was so different from her home... The North had been cold and calm and quiet and simple, whereas Mumbai was like an explosion of colors, smells, and noises. It was too hot, too busy. Not that Arya hated it; she would have liked the city if she had been there doing tourism, instead of being there because of the fact that she was stuck there with no way out. That was what she despised. She hated being trapped there, forced to live in not the best conditions. She couldn't complain much, though. At least where she was now was better than where she was before, in the slum of Dharavi.

After the attack that she, Jaqen and the their companions got attacked in the jungle, Jaqen had carried her to the nearest village, and after she got better they travelled to the nearest city. They had stayed there for some time before they decided to hitch a train ride to Mumbai, and there they were now. The only problem was that they had no money, everything had been burned when their vehicle exploded during the attack. They hadn't had money even for the train ticket, which was the reason why they had to hide on the roof of the train and travel all the way to Mumbai like that. The little money that they managed to get their hands on was spent in food, and when they couldn't even afford that they stole it from those that had enough. Arya was not about to steal from poor people, she preferred to spend days hungry, so she told Jaqen only to steal from people that had a lot or a decent amount of money.

Of course, with no money, they couldn't afford a room in a good hotel in Mumbai and neither could they rent a decent apartment in the city. Their only affordable option was to go to the slums, and so they had found themselves in a tiny room in the middle of Dharavi. Arya had hated it, with its narrow streets, garbage everywhere, filth. She had hated the stench. She smell was probably the worst thing, but she knew that there was nothing that she could do about it, so there was no point in complaining. She hadn't liked the place one bit, but then again, she hadn't had much choice other than to be there.

Many of the people in Dharavi worked in the production of leather, manufacturing of textile goods, pottery, distilleries, tanneries, trade... Jaqen and Arya had tried getting a job to earn some money, even if it was a misery, while they were there. However, everyone refused to employ them, and so Arya had continue stealing for survival. It was Jaqen who got them out of that slum in the end, two weeks after they had been living there. He decided to offer his services as a Faceless Man. Arya could have done it too, but she had sworn that she wouldn't kill anyone else before she got to kill Joffrey. However, Jaqen had sworn no such thing. His services as an assassin were rather expensive, and after just one job he managed to get enough money to rent an apartment for him and Arya out of the slum, in a better part of the city though not very luxurious. That was okay with Arya. She didn't need luxury, she just wanted a clean place.

She arrived in the building where they had rented the room and walked in. It wasn't much, but it wasn't the dirty and ruinous as the tiny hole that they had had in Dharavi, so she liked it. It had one bedroom, one small bathroom and a tiny kitchen with a table to eat in it, and that was enough. Jaqen was in the bedroom, lying on the single bed that fit there. He had his eyes closed. When they had been in Dharavi he had offered the tiny bed to Arya and he had slept on the floor, but after they moved to that new place Arya let him share the bed with her because it was big enough for both of them. Nothing ever happened; they were just friends and partners, and Arya hated to see him sleeping on the floor. Besides, she wasn't that kind of woman. She wasn't interested in Jaqen as a man, even though she knew that he somewhat fancied her. However, he respected her and never treated her as anything else but his friend and partner in crime, and Arya liked that. She thought he was a good man and handsome and interesting, but she had only loved once in her life. She sighed. She hadn't seen Gendry in such a long time...

She leaned on the doorframe of the bedroom and looked at Jaqen sleeping. He looked exhausted. He had dyed his hair black because his red and white hair had called too much attention. Arya still thought that it was weird to see him like that. He almost looked normal, and Jaqen had always been anything but normal.

She was going to let him sleep, so she turned around to walk away towards the kitchen, but the sound of his voice stopped her.

"Hey," she heard him saying. Arya turned around and saw Jaqen looking at her with only one eye open. His voice sounded tired.

"Hey," she replied. "When did you come back?" she asked. He had spent outside the entire night, and it was already well past 6 pm.

"About an hour ago. It was hard to find the guy that they paid me to get rid of. He knew we were coming."

"Did you get to him?"

"Of course I did," Jaqen said, and sounded as if the question offended him. He always got to his targets, no matter who they were or how well they his from him. "He was some gangster that trained slum children to be beggars..."

"That's awful," Arya said, frowning. Jaqen shrugged.

"Whatever," Jaqen thought like most of the other Faceless Men: he didn't care who the victims were or what they did to deserve that fate. Arya still couldn't get rid of the habit of judging them. She did care.

Jaqen pointed a finger to a small bag that was on the small bedside table. "There's the money."

"Good," Arya said, walking over to the table and picking the bag up. She counted the money. It was in rupees; she was still a bit unfamiliar with that kind of currency. "Is it enough for a plane ticket?"

She had been saving to be able to get out of there and fly to Westeros, but the tickets were expensive. Jaqen had protested when she first mentioned it, he had said that they had orders to stay in India, but Arya didn't care. She was angry that they had left then there for four months to their own luck, and she needed to get back to Westeros immediately. She had already spent too much time away. In the end Jaqen had given in and he had started helping her save the money.

"Enough for two, actually," Jaqen said, and Arya's face lot up with a smile. Yes! They made it! They were finally getting out of there!

She ran to the bed and jumped on it, hugging Jaqen and surprising him. It wasn't often that she displayed affection lately, but sometimes she couldn't help herself. She was happy.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

"Ok, ok! You are welcome, lovely girl... Now get off me and let me sleep."

Arya chuckled. Jaqen was like a cat, grumpy when he was sleepy or hungry. She got off the bed and walked out of the room.

"I brought you some food," she heard him say, and then she heard him yawn. "And the newspaper. It's in the kitchen."

The newspaper? Why did she want the newspaper? She didn't know Hindi! In fact, she ignored what was happening in the rest of the world outside of Mumbai because she could get her hands on a newspaper in English, and they hadn't been able to buy a TV...

She was greatly surprised when she saw the newspaper. It was in English! It was American, the New York Times. It would have been better if it had been a Westerosi newspaper, but Arya couldn't complain. She immediately grabbed the newspaper and sat on a chair, and started reading immediately. She was even more surprised when she found news of Westeros, and even more so when she saw maher brother Robb's picture. She started reading...

"Oh my God!" she jumped on her chair. She stood up and ran back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, forgetting everything about Jaqen's urgent need to take a nap. "Jaqen!"

"What...?"

"My brother won! My brother is the new President of Westeros!"

That woke Jaqen up enough to make him open his eyes again a sit up a bit on the bed to look at the article that Arya was showing him. She hadn't finished reading it, but Jaqen did read it all. Towards the end he frowned. Arya didn't understand that expression, and she was going to ask what made him frown when suddenly he said, completely stunned and shocked and confused:

"Joffrey is Vice President?"

What? Arya frowned as well and looked at the article again, searching for where it said that. Jaqen signaled it to her and Arya read it. Yes, Joffrey Baratheon was the new Vice President.

"I don't understand," she murmured, shaking her head. "That can't be right. Theon was going to be the Vice President, we knew Robb's plans... There must be a mistake!"

It had to be a mistake. Robb would never betray Theon like that, he wouldn't choose Joffrey over his best friend... But then Jaqen turned the page, and the article about Robb was still continuing there, and Arya read it. She gasped when she saw a picture of Theon at the bottom of the page. Then she read about the shark attack.

Jaqen was hugging her before she even realized that she was crying. She was doing so silently, but tears ran down her face like tiny rivers going down a mountain. She felt her hands weaken, and the newspaper fell from them to the floor.

"No..." she whispered, and she leaned her head against Jaqen's chest. "No... Why...?"

"Sshh, it's okay," Jaqen murmured. She shook he head again.

"It's not okay... None of this is okay. I knew this was going to happen... I shouldn't be here, I should have been there..."

"There's nothing you could have done, it was a shark attack."

"You seriously believe that?!" Arya yelled, snapping at Jaqen. She didn't want to yell at him, but he was the only person that she could talk to and she couldn't stop herself from snapping at him. Jaqen never got angry when Arya yelled at him because he knew what she was going through and he understood what she was feeling. "I told you what Joffrey did to my father! He is a monster! He planned this!" she cried, looking down at the newspaper on the floor.

She felt afraid. If Joffrey had killed Theon just because he was going to be Vice President if Robb won, and Robb was now President and Joffrey was his Vice President...

"Oh my God," she cried again. Her body was shaking terribly, and not even Jaqen's arms around her could keep her steady. She felt a fear inside her that she hadn't felt in a long time. It was a fear worse than the one she had felt when she thought she was going to die four months ago, during the attack. "He's going to kill Robb..."

"That's not going to happen," Jaqen said, trying to calm her, but it didn't work.

"It is, he is going to kill my brother!" Arya yelled.

"No, Arya, we are going to leave soon, okay?" Jaqen said, holding her head between his hands so that she would look at him. "We are going to buy tickets to King's Landing, and then you will have a second chance to kill Joffrey. You won't fail this time, and your brother will be safe. Your sister will be safe too."

Arya didn't know if she could believe it or not. She wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe that she would return to Westeros and save her family. She had already lost her father to that monster, Joffrey, and her innocence too. Because of what he had done she had been forced to flee, to become an assassin, a murderer. Her father was lost and she was also lost, but she couldn't lose anyone else from her family.

She didn't know how she fell asleep. The news had exhausted her, and her tears had made her sleepy, and she had closed her eyes and fallen asleep in Jaqen's arms. Her friend never left her alone, he was always there to console her, and he guarded her in her sleep. When she woke up she still had his arms around her in a protective way, and she felt like a small child. Jaqen had fallen asleep again and he didn't notice when Arya moved away from him and stood up from the bed. The room was dark; the sun had hidden in the horizon and night had fallen upon Mumbai.

Arya wanted to get out of the apartment, she needed to go to the street. She felt trapped in there all of a sudden, and she wanted to get rid if that awful feeling of oppression. If it had been an earlier hour and Jaqen was awake, she would have wanted to go straight to the airport and get the plane tickets to get out of there immediately, but it was too late and she didn't want to wake Jaqen. The trip to the airport would have to wait until the next morning.

Arya ate the food that Jaqen had brought for her earlier before she left the apartment. She hadn't eaten in the entire day, and she was starving. She didn't know what she was eating, it was some spicy Indian stuff that she didn't recognize, but it tasted really good. She washed it down with water to get rid of the burning in her mouth and then she picked up the keys and left the tiny apartment without making any noise, closing the door behind her carefully. Before she left she had also picked up a small knife from a drawer in the bedside table, and she his the blade underneath her sleeve; she hated going out without weapons. She left the building and ventures again into the streets of Mumbai, still crowded and noisy but now full of artificial lights that illuminated the streets in pretty colors.

She didn't know where she was heading. She didn't have any place to go in mind, so she just walked. There was a light rain falling and soaking her up, but she didn't mind. It had been raining almost non stop for the past month, which at the beginning she believed that was a good thing because she had hated the heat of the first month that she spent there. However, when she discovered that the rain marked the beginning if the monsoon season, she hated the rain. In August it was still raining, but less. She liked the fact that the rain that was falling in that moment was light, and it served to cool her down. It was relaxing, in a certain way.

She walked around crossing streets and going around corners, but she wasn't worried about getting lost. In those months she had tried to get to know Mumbai like the palm of her hand. She had been taught by the Faceless Man to know her surroundings to the point of perfection, so that she could know all the escapes and all the ways in and out of places.

She was walking distractedly between the crowd when suddenly she felt a cold shiver going all over her body, and the short hairs on the back of her head stood on end. She knew that feeling, it was an instinct that she had gotten after her training with the Faceless Men. She stopped walking and turned around, trying to see if there was anyone observing her, but she couldn't see anyone like that in between all the people that were around her. She acted as if nothing had happened and continued walking, but she couldn't shake the feeling off her. She was certain that there was someone watching her, maybe even following her... But who?

Her mind was immediately invaded by the image of the people that had attacked her in the jungle and tried to kill her. Had they found her? Were they after her? Jaqen had said that he had killed the men that had followed her to the river, but there could be more of them. She felt the blade hidden under her sleeve, and she was determined to be caught by surprise again. If whoever was following her was one of those men and he wanted to kill her, she would be ready to defend herself and attack.

She walked a little bit faster, but not a lot. She keep acting as if she was distracted, and then she entered a side street when she reached it. The street was long, dark, narrow, and empty. It was the kind of street that looked very dangerous. There were some puddles of dirty water on the floor, and garbage. Rats roamed around there, but Arya didn't mind them. She kept walking to end of the street, which led to perpendicular street that was also narrow and dark and empty. She went around the corner and stayed there with her back behind the wall, hiding and waiting. She could hear steps coming closer in the other street. The sound reverberated between the narrow walls, and Arya heard a foot stepping on one of the puddles. She took the small knife out from under her sleeve and waited for whomever was following her to come I to the street where she was ready to attack.

Seconds later, a man appeared. He was tall and dressed all in black; Arya couldn't see his face. Before the man had a chance to walk around the corner and see her standing there, Arya jumped on him, silent like a cat and quick as a snake. With her free hand she pushed him against the wall and held him there, and with the other hand she took the knife to his throat. She didn't kill him, though.

"Who are you?" she hissed, pressing the point of the knife against the soft skin of his throat. "Why are you following me?"

"Valar Morghulis," the man suddenly said, taking Arya by surprise. The man could have used that moment to take the knife away from her and reverse their positions, but he stood still waiting for her to react.

She looked at him, examining him. The man had olive skin, dark hair and dark eyes; his accent was Braavosi. Then Arya took a better look at his black clothes. The man dressed like a Faceless Man.

"Valar Dohaeris," she murmured, moving the knife away from the man's neck. There was a thin thread of blood running down the man's neck, but he didn't seem to notice it. He was looking at Arya with interest.

"You are Arya Stark," he said, and she nodded. She asked his name. "The name isn't important. I was sent here to retrieve you."

"Retrieve me?"

"Yes. The boss wants you back."

Arya scoffed. "After all this time? The last time we had any knew of the boss we were told that he didn't want us out of here, that he didn't want us back."

"The situation was complicated back then, but now it had changed. You can leave India."

"It's been four months!" Arya hissed, feeling and and furious. She knew she should take her anger out on the man, he was only one more Faceless Man following order and he didn't have any part in the decision making about the fate of Arya and Jaqen, but she couldn't just nod and be okay with all of that. "Why now? We were abandoned to rot here for four months!"

"The wait is over," the man said patiently. "But if you want to leave this place, Arya Stark, you have to come with me now."

"What about Jaqen?"

"Another Faceless Man has gone to talk to him. We will all meet in the airport, where there is a flight waiting for us."

"Where are you taking us?" Arya asked. She knew that they weren't going to take her to Westeros, she wasn't that stupid, but she didn't know where the boss was in that moment. The last time she spoke to him he was in France."

"We are going to Moscow," the man said, and then he started walking away to leave those dark back streets.

Russia? They were going to Russia?! Arya wanted to protest, but she didn't. At least she was finally getting out of India and she was going to stop being unable to do something to stop Joffrey. She just hoped that they would take her to Westeros soon after going to Moscow, and that that nightmare could end soon.

In silence, she followed the man.

There was a jet waiting for them in the airport. Just as the Faceless Man that accompanied Arya had said, another man had taken Jaqen to the Mumbai airport. When Arya saw him she hugged him and she couldn't help but smile happily; they were finally getting out of there. Jaqen returned the smile, and he gave her an encouraging push when they were boarding the jet.

She looked through the window to watch the city as the jet took flight. She finally felt free. Those four months had been the longest months of her life, but the wait was finally over and she could get away. She would go to Moscow, and then she would go to King's Kanding. Then she would go home. Everything would be alright.

The flight was very long, but she had expected it to be longer. She stayed awake the entire flight, too nervous and anxious to be able to close her eyes and rest. That wasn't the case with Jaqen, the man could sleep anywhere. He had already fallen asleep again on his seat, and Arya could not understand how he could do that, but she wished she could so the same.

No one spoke during the entire flight, until almost the end, when the Faceless Man that had found her in the street approached her with a cup of tea and gave it to her.

"It will help with the nerves," he told her, and so she took the tea. It smelled strange, but she hadn't drunk a lot of tea in her life so she didn't know how it was supposed to smell.

She drank it. It tasted sweet. She finished the entire cup because she was very nervous, and the next thing she knew was her eyelids were closing, and her head felt very heavy. She didn't notice when the cup fell from her hands and shattered against the floor.

When she woke up she wasn't in the jet anymore, she was in the back seat of a car. She sat up and massaged her neck. Her head hurt and she felt uncomfortable.

"Are we already there...?" she asked, a bit sleepy still.

"We are almost there," the man answered her. He was in the passenger seat.

Arya didn't say anything. She felt so weird and weak, like she had been in a restless sleep for a very long time. She massaged her neck a little more and then she looked outside the window. She frowned when she saw that they weren't in a city, and that there weren't any kind of building around. They were in the middle of nowhere.

Where the hell were they?

She turned her head to the other side and was starlet to see that the man sitting next to her was a stranger, and not Jaqen like she had originally thought. She looked through all the windows of the car, but she didn't see any other cars around them.

"Where's Jaqen?" she asked, feeling a knot in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong there.

"Jaqen had to stay behind. Boss's orders. He'll catch up with us later."

"Why? Where are we?"

"In Russia."

"You said we were going to Moscow!" she exclaimed angrily. She felt the desire to hit every single man that was inside that car with her, but she didn't want to cause an accident. "This isn't Moscow."

"No," the man said, shaking his head. "We are about ten miles away from a village called Oymyakon."

Oymyakon. She knew the name, it was one of the coldest places in the Northern Hemisphere. She felt the anger building up in her.

"You brought me to Siberia?! Why?"

"I don't know," the man said, speaking the truth. "We are just doing what the boss told us to do. He has all the answers, not us. We are just pawns."

"We all are," Arya said bitterly. She was angry, very angry. Why? Why did they all lie to her? First they left her alone in India, and now they lied to her to take her to Siberia. What was happening? What had she done wrong?!

The car stopped in front of a building that looked like a warehouse in the middle of nowhere. The man sitting next to Arya was the first one to get out of the car, and then she followed him. She was surprised to find that the ground was frozen, even though it was the beginning of August and the temperature was somewhat high. She wouldn't want to be stuck in that place in the winter, with temperatures that could go as low as -96 degrees. It was the same in the far north of Westeros, but she had never gone near those places in her life. Her brother Jon had, and the things that he had told her about the painful cold so far up north made her no my want to go anywhere near there.

Arya followed the men to the warehouse, and she went in before them. As she looked around she realized that it wasn't exactly a warehouse. It looked more like a... like a prison?

"Welcome, Arya," a soft voice said, and she gasped and looked in front of her.

The leader of the Faceless Man was walking towards her, dressed in black and white clothes. No one knew his name, so he was known as the Kindly Man, because his face was that of the kindliest old man that they had ever seen in their lives. Most just referred to him as the boss. He was a person that they had to fear; he was a kind man, but he was also dangerous. His age disguised his strength and wit and his lethalness. That man knew more ways to kill a person that anyone else in the world. He was a master of death. He had taught Arya everything that she knew, and she had become his proud student. She admired him, but she also felt furious with him.

"Master," she said, respectfully greeting him with a soft movement of her head. She couldn't let her anger get her in trouble with the leader of the most lethal men in the world.

"It is good to have you back," the Kindly Man said, and Arya knew that he meant it. He hadn't abandoned her in India out of spite but out of need instead, and she could understand it, but she still felt bad about it.

"Why have you brought me here?" she asked, not understand why they had to meet in Oymyakon out of all the possible places to meet on Earth. It was so strange, and she knew that there was something that she didn't know, something that they weren't telling her.

"Patience, Arya."

"With all due respect, I have waited long enough in Mumbai."

The Kindly Man was silent for a couple of seconds, just watching Arya. She knew that he knew that she was angry, she wasn't very good at hiding her emotions. The Kindly Man wasn't a fool, and he knew that Arya did not want nice words of welcome and apologies; she wanted an explanation to everything that had happened and an explanation for what was happening then.

"We knew that you were planning to get out of India on your own sooner or later," he explained. "I couldn't let that happen, I can't let you go back to Westeros and kill Joffrey, not now."

"Why?"

"The men that attacked you in India are still out there. They are many, and they are attacking other Faceless Men. All the people that I've sent to spy Joffrey and the Lannisters have appeared dead. They weren't successful with you and Jaqen, but you two were an exception. You are also their priority, because you are the one that wants to kill Joffrey. They want to keep him alive."

"Who's "they"?" Arya asked, bit understanding anything. None of it made any sense! "Why are they doing this? And is that why you kept me in India, to keep me safe? I don't believe it."

"We don't know who they are yet, but I have people investigating it. We will find out soon," the Kindly Man responded to her questions. "We don't know why they are doing this, but we know that Joffrey did not hire them. He still has no idea of who tried to shoot him and failed," he put special emphasis on the word failed. Arya felt her blood boiling with anger, and she clenched her fists. "And no. I kept you in India so that you wouldn't do anything stupid, like killing Joffrey."

"You know why I failed," she muttered. "His bodyguard is no longer a problem."

"I know, and I also know that you won't fail the next time that you attempt to take Joffrey Baratheon's life," the Kindly Man said. As he spoke he walked towards Arya, approaching her until he was only a couple feet away from her. His face was serious, but there was a faint glow of pity in his eyes. "But that moment is not now, and I'm afraid I don't know how to make you understand that."

Finally Arya understood why she was there, in the middle of Siberia in a place that looked like a prison. It all made sense finally.

"You want to keep me locked here," it wasn't a question.

"I don't want to, but I don't know if I can trust you," the leader of the Faceless Men said with a sigh. "Can you promise me that you won't attack Joffrey Baratheon until you have my permission to do so?"

Months ago she could have promised it. She had done it once, and she had waited until he gave her permission to go to Westeros and try to kill Joffrey. But back then Robb wasn't President. Back then Theon wasn't dead. Back then Sansa wasn't married to that monster. Back then Arya wasn't running out of time. She shook her head slowly.

"I can't," she confessed. "I need him dead."

"Then, Arya, I'm afraid that in going to have to keep you here."

"You have no right! I paid! I paid for Joffrey's life, you promised me he would die! You promised me I was going to kill him!" she yelled, feeling that she couldn't hold back her anger anymore.

"And you will, but death has its due time for everybody. I can't let you kill Joffrey now and doom all Faceless Men to a war with an invisible enemy that is already one step ahead from us," the Kindly Man said, but he didn't sound not seemed so kindly anymore. He was upset, Arya could see it in his face. She had never seen him upset. "If we kill Joffrey, then whomever wants to keep him alive will turn on us. Until we know who those people are, that is a risk that we cannot take!"

"But-!" Arya started protesting, but before she could keep speaking two Faceless Men picked her up and carried her towards a door, and then up some stairs. Arya was so small and light that it was no effort for them to carry her, even though she screamed and kicked and punched them. She even bit them and scratched them, but they wouldn't let her go; she was strong, but they were huge and stronger than her.

They took her to the second floor and carried her to an empty room that was more like a cell, with plain grey walls and no furniture. The threw her inside and the Kindly Man appeared and blocked the way before she could try to sneak out the door.

"I'm sorry, Arya," he said, and he meant it. "I promise you that I will let you out as soon as we know who this role are, what they want, and how to defeat them. Then I will let you kill Joffrey."

"This is not fair!"

"Life isn't fair."

"I'll kill them all."

"That is to great a task for you alone."

"Don't you understand what you are doing?" Arya said desperately, panicking over what she knew would happen if Joffrey remained alive more time. She couldn't stop thinking about her family, and about Sansa. Oh, Sansa... Arya had promised her that she would save her, but she had lied. They had made her break her promise to her sister, and now Sansa was stuck with that beast... "Theon is already dead. My family can be next! I have to save them!"

"I won't let you go, Arya. I will say it no more," the Kindly Man declared, and then he grabbed the doorknob of the door to close it.

"Many people are going to die if Joffrey lives!" Arya yelled. She wanted to cry, to scream. She wanted to get out of there, she wanted someone to listen to her! "They are all going to die! You have to help me, please!"

"The Faceless Men take lives, we don't save them," were her leader's last words before he closed the door, leaving Arya alone there with no hopes at all that she could get her be vengeance and keep her promise.