This was long overdue and I apologize for it. This last weeks of the year become hectic as you know and my schedules have been chaotic. I haven't forgotten about this or you, though.
I won't say much more since I'm sure you want to read tha chapter quickly.
Thank you for the encouraging reviews and for following the story. Happy Holidays!
Chapter 30 : War Damsels
"Tywin Lannister," she said. Her decision was resolute. She had no doubt this was what it was needed, not only so she could be truly free, but so her brother had higher chances to end the war soon.
Arya had spent many weeks studying the seasoned warlord. Unlike many lords she had met in her brief time in King's Landing, Tywin was smart and cunning. He had the experience on his side, unlike Robb. But the man was also ruthless. His heart seemed to have frozen over the years.
Ironically, the conversations they had reminded her of her father, of the words he would share with her. But even if he taught her much about old wars and warriors, about stories, she was also reminded that he was partially guilty of her grief. Tywin was her enemy.
Jaqen H'ghar had an amused smile on his lips but looked confused.
Sometimes Arya felt compelled to demand him to stop speaking in riddles, but that had always been him. There was a mask she couldn't see through, and it hid a man who was not a soldier but an assassin; he could make the impossible be a reality if he tried, not leaving traces that led people to him. She wondered if that was how life in Essos was, and if one day she could go there and learn the more unorthodox styles of fighting.
Maybe her new sister by marriage would take her. If Daenerys had led a khalasar, she surely could return, even if for a short period of time.
"A girls gives a name…" he trailed off as the sound of horses galloping reached them.
Arya watched with dread as Tywin Lannister departed with a group of men, ready to make his way to regroup. He would find allies without doubt, since he could pay for it. He could pay for revenge now while Robb was pillaging his lands, he could hire assassins or find one weak and desperate man who would be willing to betray his brother for promises of richness, lands and titles.
She was not naïve enough to believe in honor after seeing her father being beheaded for being the best man he could.
"How long does it take you to kill him," she wondered, hoping there was a chance that could be done right at that moment, that she could stop her family's enemy from getting stronger or ruin what her brother had achieved.
"A minute. An hour. A month. Death is certain. The moment is not." Jaqen leaned his back against the solid wall of rock behind him.
"But I need it to be done now!" Demanding her wishes seemed not to please the man, and she realized. "He will kill my brother." One way or another, she knew that was the goal in Tywin's mind.
The Young Wolf had become a bigger enemy that anyone had believed. He was young but brave and a natural in the battlefield. He had managed to lead armies, while Tywin's grandchild sat in his throne throwing tantrums. The possibility of respecting Robb had disgusted Tywin.
Lions despised Wolves. And in return, Wolves despised Lions as well.
But Arya knew the Lion was a loner, while the Wolf worked in packs. The Lion was prideful and had no qualms about showing off his wins. The Wolf hid in the dark, waiting for the right time to attack, in the middle of the night to take everyone by surprise.
"A girls needs to give the Red God a name. Any name."
"Any name?" she asked, already weaving an idea in her young mind. "And you'll kill them."
"By the Seven Gods and the countless Old Gods, I swear it."
"All right," she muttered, smiling to herself as she approached him, almost whispering the next words, inflicting more damage with the secrecy. "Jaqen H'ghar."
"A girl gives a man his own name?" He seemed to grow angry, something she had not seen since she had met him when she was still under Yoren's protection. "Gods are not to be mocked. This is not joking thing."
"I'm not joking! A man can kill himself."
"Unname me."
"No," she replied with complete resolution.
"Please?"
She doubted but then conceded. Had she the right to tell a man to kill himself? Wasn't that the less honorable way to die for a man? A soldier always fought, against enemies and his own demons. To end one's life was to give up fighting.
"I'll unname you."
"Thank you," he uttered with relief.
"If you help me and my friends escape," she told the man in front of her.
He smirked. "This will require more than one life. This is not part of our deal."
"Fine. Jaqen H'ghar," she stated, leaving quite clear that just like he abided by his rules, she did by hers. She had learned that you always needed more than one plan, that no one would ever play by the rules. In the game of thrones you could pretend, but right then she was playing a game of survival first.
"A girl lacks honor."
A girl wants to live. Free. A girl wants her family. Safe.
She just held his gaze until he finally gave in with utter annoyance. "If I do this, a girl must obey."
"A girl will obey," she replied with certain mockery but instead of being angry, Jaqen seemed amused by her courage.
"A girl and her friends will go through the gates at midnight."
-o-
They escaped as promised, in the middle of the night, without a witness. She saw the soldiers murdered in their own positions, watching the courtyard, dead. Jaqen had done as he had told her and she felt relief washing over her as her feet carried her far from that place, far from the Lannister men, with Gendry and Hot Pie following closely behind.
They travelled through the night, even if exhausted, because freedom meant more than their aching feet or their thirst. They needed to get away.
When the sun first let its rays warm them, she saw Jaqen again, watching them as if he had been following them. He had probably done so and they hadn't even noticed.
She went to him, to say thank you or goodbye, she did not know, but she knew that she owed to this man.
"Was it hard to kill those guards?" She asked after hearing the amusement in his voice with the previous questions. He was right, too many questions for which answers were too complicated and without importance were not worth it.
"Not harder than taking a new name, if you know the way," he replied dismissively.
"Show me how. I want to be able to do that. What do I have to do?"
"If you learn that, you must come with me."
"Where?"
"Far away across the Narrow Sea, all the way to Braavos."
She smiled at the memory of Syrio Forel, the man who had trained her. "My dancing master was from Braavos."
"To be a dancing master is a special thing, but to be a faceless man… that it's something else entirely."
He was offering everything she wished for. Revenge. She could learn what Syrio had not been able to teach her. She could perfect the art of sword fighting and offer those names she kept on eternal rotation on her mind, all those who had wronged her family but, how could she leave them alone, fighting and looking for her?
"I want to, but I can't. I need to find my brother and my mother." She felt the knot in her stomach as guilt invaded her one more time. "And my sister." Why did she feel like she owed to Sansa to protect her? She hadn't been able to find an answer. She was the youngest of the two, but Sansa seemed so fragile compared to her. While she had escaped, Sansa had been kept prisoner and was still being subjected to the torture of being with the Queen and Joffrey. "I need to find her too."
"Then we must part," he said, handing her a silver coin. "A man has duties as well."
"What is it?"
"A coin of great value." He smiled as she studied the coin with curiosity, hoping it could get her a horse and supplies to make her way to Robb and let him know about Tywin's plans. To perhaps save her sister, and meet their mother. "If the day comes when you must find me again, just give that coin to any man from Braavos and say these words to him, Valar Morghulis."
"Valar Morghulis," she repeated.
Soon Jaqen's face was another, and he was no longer Jaqen. He disappeared just like he always did but this time she knew that even if she searched for him, she would find another. Jaqen had died before her eyes and no one would ever know.
-o-
For days they had been wandering through woods and hills. They grew more and more desperate for a route that would lead them somewhere. Anywhere. North, Arya kept repeating in her head.
The food was scarce and their moods only turned sour. Even more so hers whenever Gendry happened to remind her that she could have given Jaqen any name, that she could have ended war if she wanted to, but he didn't understand the urgency of her needs. If Jaqen took a month or a year to kill Joffrey, her family could be dead by then.
She did not bother trying to explain that to him and only kept on walking, looking for the Red Fork river, a sign that they had been walking in the right direction all those days. Perhaps if she found her grandfather soon, Hot Pie and Gendry would finally stop bothering her with their questions and accusations.
But as they were discussing their plans, they heard men approaching. Soon they searched for a hiding spot behind trees and rocks.
The man leading the group was singing drunkenly as they looked in silence. That was until an arrow almost hit Arya right between her eyes.
"What's lurking behind that wall? A lion? A wolf?" one man asked with mockery laced to his voice, quickly followed by the japes of the other men. "Maybe we should shoot a few more arrows."
Arya knew they didn't have a chance against a large group of man. It did not matter if Gendry was strong and she was very skilled with a sword, they were hungry, tired and thirsty. Their chances of triumph were non-existent. But she of course could pretend, right?
"Don't. You're going down the road. Keep on singing so we know where you are. Leave us be, and I won't kill you."
Amusement danced in their eyes. But as she finished talking, they heard a loud whine up in the sky. They saw the shape of a too large form to be a crow or a bird. Its wings were long and their shape was strange.
The men's laughter died as they saw the figure diving down to where they were. Every one of them looked terrified as they finally recognized the winged creature that was falling from the sky, as they noticed the distinctive smell of something burnt.
"It's impossible," the singing drunk man murmured, paling.
Hot Pie almost choked on his own tongue as he asked in a meek voice. "Is that, is that a, a dragon?"
Indeed, if every story she had heard, if Old Nan had been right and the books she had read were true, that was a dragon being ridden by a woman. A woman with platinum white hair braided to fall over her back, one that unmistakably gave away her identity.
The large black dragon landed swiftly despite his weight and size, and the woman dismounted gracefully. Her outfit was complimented by a cincher that mimicked the scales of her dragon.
"What are you doing?" she asked in a voice that demanded respect, as a queen who deserved it. "Why are you bothering these children?"
"Thoros of Myr," the drunk replied, sobering up as he watched the beast next to the beautiful woman. "We are the Brotherhood Without Banners, and I can assure you we are not bothering these children."
"Do you know who I am?" she spat with fury.
As she did so, Arya saw the man with the bow and the arrow ready to shoot but before he could, the dragon rider plucked a scale from her cincher and threw it expertly, cutting the bowstring.
"I am Daenerys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons, Queen in the North. These are my lands as are my husband's. You're not allowed to steal from my people. I should behead you for your audacity."
Thoros of Myr sank his knee in the dirt and bowed his head to her. "Forgive us, Your Grace. Your husband has been nothing but merciful and we are trying to look for ways to repay his kindness. We're looking for the Hound. We plan on taking his head as a gift."
"Is that so?" She calmly approached them. Despite how petite she was, she could have been ten feet tall by the way she carried herself. Arya wondered if grace and strength were possible to mix together, if in a few years she could be a lady and a warrior, elegant and ruthless. "I'll let you go this one time, but if I found you causing trouble once more, there will be no mercy, no chance to explain."
Arya saw the men making a quick way to leave, as Thoros promised to serve loyally to her, to help her, which Daenerys seemed to take into consideration. She would find them if she happened to need their assistance but for the time being, she refused and took the arrows from the archer so her dragon could burn them.
Daenerys smiled at her. "Shouldn't you leave as well?"
"Where's Robb?" Arya asked. "And Mother? Are they fine?"
Daenerys violet eyes widened as realization downed on her. "Arya," she murmured before taking fast steps closer to her. "Arya Stark, is this you?"
"Daenerys Targaryen," Arya replied.
"Stark, my sister," Daenerys corrected, with a tender smile before she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug. "Your family is safe now. Every one of us. Sansa, your brothers, your mother and Robb."
"Everyone?" Arya looked up with relief and Dany nodded.
"I'm on my way to him, to help him. And I know you will be what he needs to renew his strength and end this war once and for all." Dany smoothed her hands over Arya's short hair, not caring about how dirty it was. "We're going West, and soon we are going home."