Jaqen, wearing the face of Titus, breathed deep of the sea air, closing his eyes and dropping his head as the stiff breeze blew over and around him. They had been at sea for a week now and in that time, he and Arya had spent a lot of time talking and learning more about one another.
As his thoughts scrambled over each other for air time in his head, Jaqen was pulled from his mind as a woman's voice reached him on the breeze. Looking down towards the portside of the stern, from his position at the bow, he found a pretty Summer Isles woman. She was dressed in the garb of a crew mate, probably on a break and she held a lute in her hands which she was playing.
'He watches the morning light
Catch on her raven hair
Curves of her lips
Promising a life that they will share…'
She was the source of the voice that was singing. And he couldn't help but notice the stark similarity in her lyrics, to the situation that he and Arya were now in. Taking a seat on one of the roping pillars, he breathed out and just listened to her sing. His thoughts started to quieten down into a steady stream then, one that was easily manageable, in comparison to the clamouring of them previously.
'Two lovers intertwined,
In the light of a winter's dawn.
As the rumble of war sweeps down through the valley…'
Although he and Arya had discussed many things about themselves and their pasts, still Jaqen had not shared all of his origins, a part of him was scared to. It would change everything and Arya may feel betrayed. But he also knew that the longer he hid his origins, when she would inevitably find out, it would be so much worse. Particularly if he had not told her himself. But for so long he and his siblings had been schooled by their parents to conceal themselves.
The reason Jaqen made such a good faceless man? Wasn't just because of his training in the House of Black and White, it was because from basically his birth he had been taught to conceal himself. To never let anyone know who he and his family truly were. He had been taught how to weave believable tales, if ever asked difficult questions surrounding his identity or that of any of his family. As far as the masses went? They were a Lorathi family of little notice or renown and that was how they had started and lived their life in Braavos.
But regardless of those teachings, if she was going to be with him, then she needed to know and he needed to be the one to tell her. Being with him was….more complicated than it seemed, even without the added curveball of his father. Also, he had started to realise the depths of his feelings for Arya. While at sea there were stretches of time where all you had was the ocean and wind for company and it left you with periods of nothingness, where your mind inevitably started to run through thoughts and ideas. Thus had been the case for him.
'So stay with me, oh lover,
My heart's filled with worry.
Stay with me, oh lover,
The borders are burning…'
He had had a great deal of time to untangle the complex web of his emotions and thoughts surrounding Arya and all roads pointed to one place. He loved her. He loved her deeply and in no way platonically. It was all romantic. He didn't know when it had happened, try as he might to try and pinpoint the time over the last many months, that his feelings had changed? He'd been unable to find a singular point. So he could only assume that his feelings had grown steadily and organically over the entire time he'd been in her company again.
This was troublesome for a few reasons, but mostly because it would make him utterly reckless. During a time when he absolutely could not be. But if anyone came for Arya, now? He would become as feral as a wild, winter tiger. Or indeed as one of the mystical Dire Wolves that emblazoned the her family's coat of arms. For her he would kill any and all that stood against them. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. The intensity of his rage would rival that of Dragon's fire. He knew himself well enough to know that to be a fact.
'…And the war is yearning,
To take you away from me.
And bury you deep in the clay down below…'
But loving her now also had another issue prevalent, should his father find out about his true feelings for Arya? His father would stop at nothing to see that she would be wiped from the face of the world. He knew this because his father had already done it once before.
Jaqen had been in love. True love only once before this. She had been a sweet and humble little thing, like sunshine incarnate. She had been brought as a hostage of war. She was the daughter of a rival order of assassins called the Black Swans, originally founded in the Summer Isles, but headquartered in Mereen. The main difference in their order to the faceless, was that they were made up of solely women. Women who, although did not hold hatred for men, did hold a grudge against men lording their superiority over them. Something that his father had regrettably done and to none other than their founder and leader herself. And so a civil war erupted between their two orders, one that had finally been settled, with a peace treaty.
The cost of the treaty however, had been the exchanging of hostages, dressed up as a gesture of goodwill. Astarion, his brother, had gone to stay with the leader of the Black Swans, While her daughter Serana, had been sent to his father. Astor had given Jaqen the task of looking after the girl and taking care of her needs while she remained in residence with them. They had been close in age to one another, so his father had figured that this would help settle Serana more, than if he'd assigned some stranger to be her caretaker.
Jaqen had taken the task seriously enough and had looked after Serana in every way and showed nothing but care and hospitality to the girl. And over the seasons that she had stayed with them, they had grown close and eventually became lovers. However, the one thing that his father had cautioned him against, nay, threatened him against was to not allow their relationship to cross the boundaries of politics. She was a means to an end, not a potential bride.
Jaqen had not listened, nor had Serana who had been told of his fathers warnings. They had fallen for each other and it had made them reckless. Soon their relationship had been uncovered and Astor had dragged Jaqen into the audience hall in front of all of the leaders and ordered that he break things off immediately and see her to a ship bound for Merreen.
If he did not do so, then Astor would have no choice but to force the draught of eternal sleep down Jaqen and Serana's throats. He never explained to him why he had been so against his and Serana's relationship, or why they couldn't be together, to the point of killing them should they continue. After all, it would work as a permanent alliance, so why couldn't his father see the logic of the situation and the overt advantage that it presented?
But his father would hear none of Jaqen's reasoning, even if the other leaders were in clear support of him. Eventually Jaqen had been forced to admit that he could not leave Serana, nor could she die. Not now. For they had found, just that morning, that she had been with child. Doubtlessly they had been too young for parenthood at the time. He had been but seventeen and she sixteen. But what had been done, was done and it wasn't going away.
'So she waits by a river,
For the ghost of her lover.
His legacy she carries,
Soon to be a mother…'
His father had exploded in rage then and attempted to name Serana for death anyway. But he had been overruled by the other leaders. The Faceless held one rule above all others. Pregnant women and children, unborn or otherwise, were never allowed to be targets for death. Nor could they allow Astor to kill his youngest son, while Astarion, his eldest, was behind enemy lines. Astarion and Jaqen were considered successors to the leadership and that alone gave them more protection than the regular assassins that roamed the halls of the temple. Which meant that Jaqen's child was an heir to it also.
'But the echoes of the fallen,
Still carry on in the morning.
Searching for the way home,
To their own true love's kiss…'
Eventually an agreement had been struck between them all. Serana would be allowed to live, as would Jaqen and his legacy that Serana carried within her. As tradition demanded. But Serana would need to be sent back to Mereen, to ride out her pregnancy and her child's birth. Jaqen would be allowed, later, to join her just long enough to meet his child and wed the girl. But from there, they would need to live apart and not be together day-to-day.
Potential alliance or not, they had still contravened the terms of the peace treaty when they allowed the main reason for Serana's presence to be overshadowed by their selfish desires and careless actions. Serana, like Astarion, at the end of their tenures as hostages, were to be returned in the same or better condition as when they had arrived, barring any major violations of the agreement. But Jaqen and Serana had ensured that that wouldn't be the case thus risking, even in a small way, the fragile peace between the orders.
'So come to me, oh lover,
Your unborn is yearning
Come to me, oh lover.,
My heart is still burning.
My soul is yearning,
To feel the river swirling…'
However, Jaqen never got that chance to wed Serana. Nor had he gotten the chance to meet his child, he didn't even know if they would have been a boy or a girl. Because on the journey home, Serana's ship had mysteriously sunk midway through the voyage. No survivors were ever found. But there was suspicion that the ship had been sabotaged in some way. However this could never be proven, not fully. Nor could any true allegation be levied at any one particular person or order. Because aboard that ship, at the same time as Serana, were others who had had powerful enemies. Thus it was ensured that the circumstances surrounding the ship's downfall would always be mired in murky waters and impenetrable brambles.
But Jaqen, even to this day, was sure that his father had been the cause of the ship's demise. He couldn't explain how he knew, he just did. Astor had found a way to murder Serana and his unborn grandchild and ensure no suspicion could ever properly fall upon him or the order. Once she had stepped foot aboard that cursed ship, she had once again fallen under the protection of her mothers people. Thus Astor had not only gotten what he wanted, he'd managed to do it in a way that the peace treaty between the Swans and the Faceless, didn't get broken. After all, Serana had never had the chance to write to her mother and let her know of her condition. That knowledge had died with Serana and Jaqen had been threatened, once again, if he didn't also bury the knowledge far within the recesses of his mind and was ordered never to reveal the secret.
'To join you once more,
In the next world, eternal.
To join you once more,
In the next world, eternal…'
And now here he was again, between his father and the woman he loved. Not a place he had ever wanted to be again, which was why he'd so desperately wanted to leave the order. He wanted to leave it all behind and just be free. He had experienced too much, lost too much, since his life began in the Order. He didn't want to also lose Arya as well. He wouldn't. He refused. But he also knew that there was only one way he was going to be able to make sure of that. But the thought, even after everything that had happened, hurt him deeply. He wasn't sure if he could do what he needed to.
He had the will and the motivation, but he wasn't sure whether his heart would allow him to finish the task. His father had not always been this way, he really hadn't. Jaqen still had so many memories from his childhood, where his father still held love, consideration and respect for all of his children. There was a time when his father would never have dreamed of doing half the things to Jaqen and his siblings, that he had since done over the last decade or so.
He never would have stood in the way of Jaqen's happiness. He would have never drove Astarion so far from him, that no one now, knew where the man was or if he was even still alive. And Elodie? His sweet, doting sister Elodie would have still been alive. At one point, Astor would have sooner driven a blade through his bitch of a wife's heart than allow her to abuse any of their children. Nor allow her to turn her back after stumbling upon the scene, and let men violate their only daughter. Just because Milena was feeling petty about an old, family vase getting broken.
But Jaqen knew that no one would come and drag him and Arya out of this mess. They were on their own now and there was only one way to end Astors pursuit. Jaqen would have to kill him. There was no other way. The man could not be reasoned with, he knew this now. Serana had been enough proof of this, as was Gara coming for him shortly after Astor would have received Jaqen's note. Gara hadn't intended to kill Jaqen, he didn't think anyway, he was probably just there to drag him back to the temple. But he knew that Gara would have pivoted and done what he needed to do, if Jaqen had fought him and he would have fought him.
He knew he would have. Because if they had managed to get him back to the temple? His father would have done everything to keep him locked away in there, only releasing him again, once Arya had been 'dealt with'. Because Astor would have wanted to make sure that Jaqen could not intervene. And now Gara was dead and he would soon be found, and they had absconded from Braavos with new faces and identities. His father, if there had been even a miniscule chance that he would have seen reason, he sure wouldn't now.
The Summer Isles crew mate had now stopped singing and had put away her lute. But what surprised Jaqen, is the way she was looking at him from her position. There was something in her expression that he couldn't quite read due to how far away she was. But he did notice as she stood and made her way towards him. Unbidden, he tensed himself in readiness, he didn't know what she was approaching him for and he didn't think he needed to prepare for an attack. But he couldn't be too careful these days as he was quickly coming to realise.
"You know, young Sir. If more people reacted to my songs as you've just done, I would have long since been able to give up working onboard ships and be able to pursue my true passion." She said, her voice lilting with the accent of her people, her hand coming up so that a finger could brush away the dampness on his cheek.
Jaqen, in surprise, reached up to his other cheek and swiped his fingers under his eyes, pulling his hand away he found wetness. Tears. When had he started crying? He hadn't even felt the tears come, never mind fall. Had the songbird's music truly affected him? Obviously it had, because he wouldn't be crying otherwise and his memories wouldn't be chasing him so strongly now. He couldn't remember the last time that he had cried. Oh wait, yes he could. It was the day the news had reached him about Serana's ship sinking with no survivors.
That day the scream that had ripped from his chest, had brought him to his knees and echoed around the Hall of Faces like the boom of cannon fire. It had come from deep within his soul and carried with it all of his pain, anger and melancholy, before he had pitched forward, his weight resting on both his hands and knees. It was then that they had come, the tears hot, thick and fast. They had been unstoppable as they streamed down his face, testament to how shattered his heart had just become. He remembered then how Mairead, the waif, had run over to him and thrown herself across his back in an attempt to hug him. He remembered then that he had sat back on his knees, and pulled her around to him and hugged her close. He had needed the comfort of his niece's sympathetic arms then, because Gods knew he hadn't gotten anything by way of support or empathy from his father. Rather Astor had looked down at him as if he was disgusted at the display. In that moment, Jaqen knew that he had begun to truly hate his father.
"I'm sure you get those reactions more often than you realise, Miss." Jaqen replied, sucking in a breath and clearing his throat as he wiped his eyes. His voice had come out, sounding more like a boy on the cusp of manhood than he was used to hearing and it made him cringe, just a little. He preferred his own voice far and above any other. It was deeper and smooth and held a lilt to it that somehow lent it more masculinity. Or so he had been told anyway.
"Less frequently than you would imagine, boy. But if you're crying, it means that it reached somewhere inside of you and dragged something out with it. Are you ok?" She asked, her words holding a consideration and care that Jaqen couldn't help but appreciate. The woman seemed sweet enough and had a kindness to her eyes, that made you feel as though you could trust her and she would take whatever you told her to her grave. Not that he was about to spill his guts to the woman, but he could see why others may feel like they could.
"Not particularly, no. It just comes close to home for me. It reminds me of mine and my lovers situation at the moment. We've been through a lot."
"Oh? Wait. Are you two that young couple running away from home, because you're in the family way and your parents are trying to push you both apart? If so, I could see why that song in particular would get to you." She asked, before nodding as if in affirmation of her words. Then continued and explained the origins of the song.
"I wrote it about another couple that I used to know. Similar situation to yours actually. Except they were running away to try and prevent the man from being dragged to war. They had just found out they were expecting as well and he, understandably, no longer wanted to leave her. It was hard going for them. He was caught between honour and duty to his family, as well as his love and yearning to be with his lady and their child." She finished, before pulling free a pipe, which she then lit and began to puff on lazily.
"Oh? And what became of them? The song doesn't exactly close with a happy ending?" Jaqen asked, understanding now why the song did hold so many parallels for him. It was about both a love found and one lost. In the song it was one couple that was spoken about. But for him, it related to both of his partners. The one lost to the past and sea. Then the one re-found, first as a friend and then a lover, after a few years apart.
"And neither did their story. They found their sanctuary and got married quickly. For a while they were happy and living their lives in peace. But they were eventually found and he was dragged away from them anyway. Unfortunately, he never got the chance to return. Their first child, a boy, had been two winters old at the time and she had been expecting again, by the time they came to retrieve her husband. It was quite sad actually." She answered, her bright brown eyes dulling in their shine, as a strange grief overtook them. One he thought he could understand.
"The song isn't about friends of yours, is it? You're the woman, aren't you?" Jaqen asked boldly, worrying for a moment that he had overstepped. But then she chuckled in resignation before nodding.
"Aye. This is true. Not much gets by you, young man, does it?" She returned, giving him an amused look, before puffing on her pipe once more. "My husband was taken and then lost to me and my children. I never did remarry. Instead I remained as a war widow. My children are grown now, only a few summers older than you I would suspect. But my boy looks exactly like his father, so I know his legacy has lived on. And my daughter? Well, she became a blacksmith of all things!? But she's happy with her life and her business and so that's all I care about."
"Thats all anyone can hope for their children, is it not? That they grow to be the best versions of themselves possible and that they find happiness and peace? Or at least, that's what a parent is supposed to want."
"It's what parents who don't view their children as tools or burdens, always want for them. Unfortunately, there has been a rise of late, in parents falling into that use and abuse category. And that isn't right. A child is not there to progress a parent's goals. Rather a parent is there, to guide their children to their own goals in life. So many seem to be forgetting that. Preferring to barter and sell their children in order to step up into higher positions in life. Frightful stuff. Don't you be doing that to your little one, you hear?" She advised, before she stood and began to make her way towards the trap door that led into the staff quarters of the ship.
Jaqen did not try to stop her, she had work to be doing after all. But her words had left an impression on him. 'A child is not there to progress their parents' goals.' But is that not what Astor had done to him? He had used him in innumerable ways, to progress his personal goals.
He had used him to better his position in the Order. He had used him to remove any and all competition for his seat, when the other leaders had tried to connive in order to remove him from the leadership. He had used him to maintain order. Because while Jaqen was at his fathers side? No one dared go against Astor, because none wanted to tangle with Jaqen in a real fight. None wanted to be on the business end of his dagger or sword.
That's why Astor refused to let him leave! It wasn't that he was scared of losing all of his children, as Jaqen had naively thought. It was because with Astarion gone, Jaqen was the only protection that Astor had. And to Astor, Jaqen was clearly the one he thought he had the most control over. Because why wouldn't he? No matter what his father did to him, or the restrictions placed on him from his father, Jaqen always ended up conceding to him. He always ended up giving his father his way. For nothing more than the respect he had given him as his father and because he had known that it had cut Astor to pieces that he had lost all but one of his children.
Well no more. He would not be a tool and he would no longer willfully allow his eyes to be blinded by the man that had sired him. How could Astor say that he cared for his children, when all they were were tools to him. Even Elodie he had tried to use as a tool by attempting to marry her off to the founding family, who had first conceived the order of the faceless. Astarion had been a tool when he was shipped off to Mereen and then there was him. He was little more than his fathers spy and executioner when the need called for it. Did Astor even remotely care for any of his children at all? He didn't think so, because he wouldn't have done anything like the things he'd done if he did. Gods. Maybe he should have named both of his parents during his initiation, because clearly neither had deserved to live.
Shaken to his core now and in need of a rest in order to process all of this new information, Jaqen made his way back towards the passenger quarters. Arya would wake soon and be wondering where he was and needless to say, if there was ever a time that Jaqen needed to feel Arya close? This was the time, for as of this moment? Hers were the only hands he could trust to touch or hold him. She, at least, had never lied to or used him. She came to him as she was and took him as he was and was more than content with it. Yes, as of right now? His lovely lady wolf was the only person he could trust.
-X-
A.N: Song is 'The Echo and The River' from 'The Witcher: Blood Origin'.
