Arya, wearing the face of Alyna, looked around at the room that they had been given at the inn. They had successfully made it to the Summer Isles, making landfall two hours earlier. She would be lying if she said that she hadn't been relieved. Right up until she had seen the coast of the main island, she hadn't been able to relax at all. She had still been expecting one of the Faceless Men to appear and drag Jaqen away while they ended her.
The first mode of business for Jaqen was to secure them a safe, quiet place to sleep which had led them to this inn. It was tucked away in an enclosed courtyard of sorts, off in the northernmost corner of the main island. The inn was a part of a small market section, with streets spiralling off it at four points. Four clearly visible points, that Jaqen could keep an eye on quietly from the room on the top floor, which he had expressly asked for. It had cost a little more than the rooms on the lower floors. But it gave them ample space and it was clean, bright and airy. They would be quite comfortable here, for however long they would stay.
They planned to make their way out of Walano and settle, most likely, in Jhala. But they both needed some time to recover, before they stepped aboard a ship again, as it would take two boats for them to reach it. They had chosen Jhala because although it was the biggest of the three main islands, it was not the busiest. No, that honour went to Walano. Also Jhala had several smaller towns that although more rural and self-sustained? Were still close to main cities and bigger markets that they could easily travel to if needed.
Taking a seat at the small bistro table that sat in front of the large, open window of their room, Arya finally let herself relax as the warm and fragrant breeze blew into the room and around her. Gods but she was tired. Jaqen had disappeared once he made sure she was settled in their room. She didn't know what he was doing, but she assumed he was most likely picking up supplies for them. They would need new clothing for example, as the ones they were currently wearing were much too warm for where they now were. She would also be due her blood soon, so she would need stuff for that.
She had been dying when she explained this to Jaqen, but he'd simply smiled and shrugged. It hadn't bothered him at all. But she supposed he was grown, he understood that women had their cycle every moon and that it was natural. Apparently there was no shame attached to a woman's blood in Lorath and he was Lorathi afterall. Rather it was respected for what it was, an important process needed in order for children to be brought forth. Thus it was respected. That had been new for her, she still hadn't forgotten the way Gendry had cringed when she had taken it during their travels and she needed his help to get supplies for it. Bloody boys, she thought, fucking useless sometimes.
But that was boys and Jaqen was a man, so she supposed that's where the difference was. Even Sandor, although uncomfortable, had only been so because he wasn't used to travelling with women, so wasn't sure what to do to make her feel better or what exactly she would need. But he hadn't been uncomfortable with the idea itself and had been very willing to learn. Arya, though, was very glad when she woke this morning and had started to feel the tell-tale cramping of her lower body. She always got that way a few days before she was due. So she knew it was coming. Which meant, thank the Gods, that Jaqen hadn't gotten her. They did not need something like that at all right now. It would have been a disaster.
Hearing a knock come to the door, Arya tensed. Jaqen wouldn't knock, so this was a stranger. Pulling free the hairpin that she had used to kill Gara, she carefully made her way to the door and opened it just a crack. She raised her brow when she saw a young girl standing there with a few, large buckets of hot water.
"Sorry to bother you, miss. But your partner mentioned before he left, that you may like to take a warm bath?" The girl explained with a smile.
She looked to be quite pretty, with hair black as night and eyes as brown as chestnuts. She also looked to be no older than fourteen summers. But Arya knew, having used her young age as an advantage before, that it didn't mean this girl wasn't a potential threat.
"Apologies for any offence caused by this question. But if so? He would have given you a code, so that I knew it was from him?" Arya questioned politely but made it clear that she was suspicious of the girl's intentions.
"None taken, miss! He explained the purpose of your being here. Apologies. The word he gave was actually a phrase. 'And a man was always aware'." She replied brightly and with a smile. Arya breathed out a sigh of relief then, before she opened the door properly and allowed the girl inside.
"I'm sorry for the suspicion. We just can't be too careful at the moment, as I'm sure you can understand. What's your name?" She apologised, smiling at the girl and moving out of her way so that she had plenty of space to do her job.
"Oh absolutely! My name is Nara, miss. And don't apologise! We've heard this story many times. It's why we're so discreet. You both are safe here. We won't out you. Now! Let's get that bath ready, shall we?" She responded happily, before she walked over to two large double doors, which when opened revealed a compact but usable bathing area.
The tub seemed to be made of a wood similar to cedar, judging by the subtle scent it began to give off, once Nara started to pour the hot water into it. It was circular and large enough to hold two people comfortably. Seeing it, Arya realised then just how much she desperately wanted that bath. Bless Jaqen for thinking of her like this, it was beyond sweet of him. As Nara continued to fill up the tub, Arya happily chatted with her about this and that, nothing too important or too intimate. Just nice, pleasant conversation. But before long, Nara was leaving as Arya thanked her for her time and diligence. As soon as the door closed behind Nara, Arya removed her disguise and stripped off her thick and warm clothing. Gods but the Summer Isles were warm. She honestly couldn't wait for lighter, clean clothing. It would be bliss!
By the time Jaqen returned, Arya had just stepped into the bath and had sunk down into it. He smiled at her as he closed the door. In his hands he held several packages, which he placed on the bed, then removing his disguise, he came over to her. Kneeling beside the tub, he reached over and brushed some of her hair out of the way, before placing a sweet kiss to her forehead.
"Are you enjoying the bath, dearest one? I thought it may help with the pain?" He asked lovingly, before dropping his hand and resting his crossed arms on the edge of the tub.
"It is rather lovely, yes. The bath scents they use here are wonderful. But it would be even better if a man would remove his clothes and join his woman?" She responded, leaning down to press a couple of feather-light, affectionate kisses to the back of his hands. Capturing her chin with one, he leaned over and gave her a proper kiss. Soft but sweet before he spoke.
"A woman asks much of her man! Almost too much! But he supposes he can oblige." He teased, making her chuckle, before he stood again and began to undress.
Arya watched this shamelessly, a smirk forming on her face as each piece of clothing fell to the floor. Gods but the man was divine. All taut and tight and his arse was rather fantastic as well. In fact, she was pretty sure that was one of her favourite parts of him. Well that, and other parts rather close to it. What had concerned Arya at first when she had first seen Jaqen without his clothes, was his size. And she hadn't been meaning his height. Although he was rather tall. But the man had been blessed with length in more ways than one and a rather respectable girth at that also. She had almost feared that he wouldn't fit properly but he had assured her, quite forcefully, that if he was doing his job right? He would fit her like a glove and he hadn't been wrong. And he had definitely done his job right. As he had each time since. Was it any wonder that she found herself practically panting for him, most days now.
"A man fears he has created a monster of lust. A woman appears as though she wishes to eat him." He laughed, having noticed her hungry eyes, before Arya scooted forward in the bath, giving him the room to step in and join her.
"Well, maybe if a man didn't do what he does quite so well, while looking as delicious as he does? She would be able to control herself better." She joked back and allowed him to pull her back against him once he had settled in the tub.
"Impossible. A man lives to provide his woman pleasure. And he prefers it to be memorable every time. Do not ask the tempering of this man's intimate affection again. He will become quite offended." Jaqen quipped, his faux annoyance sounding rather believable.
"Dear me! Fine. Fine. A woman apologises for the grave offence she has caused a man. But he cannot complain then, of the monster he has created. He has made his bed, so now he must love his woman within it." Arya laughed in return, turning to playfully splash him with the bath water.
"A woman becomes too bold to attack her lover in this way!" He replied in mock affront, before splashing her in return.
They devolved into stronger laughter as they took a moment to simply play with each other and have some childish fun. Gods knew these moments would be few and far between for now, so they wanted to make the most of any opportunity they ended up with, to simply have a little fun and enjoy one another's company. But eventually they settled down, both now in better spirits for the moment. Arya sighed in contentment, as she once again relaxed into Jaqen, his arms slipping around to rest at her waist comfortably while hers came up behind him, to rest around his neck. Both allowed their heads to fall back and their eyes to close as the warm water soothed both their aching muscles. But soon he sat up, nudging her to do the same, before he reached over to the small table set up beside the tub.
Grabbing a bottle of hair wash, he popped open the cork stopper and ran it under his nose. Nodding in appreciation, he motioned for Arya to dunk her head below the water. Doing as she was told, when she came back up, he poured some of the solution into his hands. Then reaching out to her, he began to wash her hair for her, massaging the scented liquid into her scalp and locks. It smelled wonderful, like bergamot and oranges. She hummed in bliss, as her eyes slipped closed, enjoying the feeling of his hands working through her long hair. When was the last time someone else had washed her hair for her? She couldn't quite remember, but most likely it had been Sansa during one of their rare moments of sisterly peace and bonding. But somehow having Jaqen do it? It felt so much better than it ever had when Sansa did it.
She wasn't sure whether it was simply because she and Jaqen were now a couple and this was a moment of intimate bonding. Or whether it was just Jaqen in general. But whatever the reason, it felt good and it filled her with a feeling of deep peace. He seemed to be quite enjoying himself as well, as he hummed some gentle, happy tune or other. She had never heard him hum before so it seemed so out of place for him, but it sounded so nice in his soft but deep rumble. But eventually it was time for her to rinse her hair and as he tapped her shoulder to let her know to dunk again? She felt a moment of bereftness that his hands were no longer in her hair.
But she knew there would most likely be other times that he would do this, so it wasn't like it was a first and last time type thing. Once she resurfaced, she made him turn around. She wanted to wash his hair as well, it felt only right. But also, she wanted to take care of him as he had her since they left Braavos. Getting him to dunk as well, she reached for the same liquid as he had used in her hair and soon her fingers were sinking into his locks as well. Gods but the man had hair to die for, in fact she felt it should be illegal that as a man, his hair be so damned pretty. But she wasn't going to complain because she got to play with it, wash it and touch it whenever she wanted. In fact, he seemed to quite enjoy it when she did all of those things.
"Who did you inherit your hair from, lover?" Arya found herself asking unexpectedly, as she worked to gently untangle a particularly stubborn knot. "Was it your mother or your father?" She added and heard Jaqen chuckle softly.
"Neither, dearest. My hair came from my great, great grandmother on my fathers side. The feature was believed to have been lost to the family, as before me she was the last to have these colours. Then I was born and my hair was red as rubies, streaked through with white. There is a myth in the family about it? Would you like to hear it?" He explained, turning his head slightly so that he could look at her from over his shoulder, his brow raising in question.
"So…it's completely natural!?"Arya said, blinking in disbelief, wanting to shout in victory as the damned knot finally came undone and she was able to run her fingers through the strands, depositing more of the wash through to the tips. "I thought you had altered it in some way, given the shade of red it is. Not to mention the inclusion of the white streaks." She finished, once she was happy that she had coated all of his hair and scalp with wash. Then getting to work again, she decided to give him a bit more of a head massage, something that he clearly enjoyed, as his head fell back against her shoulder making her laugh. He was rather adorable sometimes, when he wanted to be.
"It is indeed as it has always been, l have not changed it in any way. Why would I? I quite like the uniqueness of it." He responded, his voice low, soft and spoken through a sigh of enjoyment.
"Mhmm. I can see why, I quite adore it too. It suits you very well. So, what is this mystery that surrounds the shade?" She asked, moving from his head down to his neck, where she found a few problem areas.
Gods the man was knotted to hell back here, how on earth was he not uncomfortable? Now making it her personal mission to unknot every possible muscle in his neck, she began to use a bit more force in her movements over his skin. He let loose a soft moan of relief, as she started to work the worst one that she found and Arya shuddered in response. That wasn't supposed to be a moan that affected her so. It wasn't one of gratification, so why had she reacted like he'd just whispered that he wanted to devour her? Seven hells! What was this man doing to her, she wondered. But didn't get a chance to think about it, as he began to speak.
"Well, the story goes that this hair colour was passed down to the greatest warriors and seers of the family. We have traced our roots back to old Valyria and the monarchy of the time. Members born with hair like mine, were held in high regard because they were believed to be kissed by dragon's fire and brushed by ice. It was also believed that those of us that carried this feature would be the ones to lead the family to greatness." Jaqen explained, his tone carrying amusement, letting her know that he believed it to be nothing but a nice story with no truth to it at all. She chuckled at this, it did sound rather far-fetched.
"I don't know how much I believe the tale, it's most likely a myth and nothing more. But I will say, my grandmother did have a gift for anticipating events before they had even happened or so I have heard. And as for me? Combat has always come very naturally. A blade has always felt at home in my hands. So it seems to lend some credence to the idea." He added, before he went quiet just long enough to dunk his head to rinse his hair, after she had loosened all of the muscles that she could.
When he came up again, he swept his hair back, before wiping his hands over his face. Arya wasn't sure why, but watching him do something so simple had looked so damned attractive to her and she felt the tightening of her nethers in response. Especially when he slowly opened his eyes and gave her a hooded look, before he smirked amusedly.
"I say this, given my brother, Astarion, although a good warrior, had a much harder time than I, picking up the intricacies and complexities of battle and swordsmanship. He is yellow of hair like my mother was. And my sister was hopeless with any kind of weapon apart from the staff. She also never had much interest in anything that seemed cosmic or fated. She was black of hair like my father. So this man knows not the truth, but it makes for an interesting tale, regardless." He finished, before he reached out and pulled her into him, to kiss her deeply. She hadn't been expecting it so she had gasped in surprise, giving him ample opportunity to invade her mouth with his tongue.
She gave an indulgent sigh, before sliding over his lap to straddle his hips. She felt as his hands pushed her hips down onto him, so that her core was pressed against him. He was hardening and she couldn't help but swirl her hips in a circle against him, a soft moan slipping from her mouth as his manliness rubbed between her folds. His breath caught, she heard, before he drove himself against her more firmly. As they began to slowly move together, both teasing and stoking the fires of the other, Arya found herself growing warm in that now familiar way. She was preparing for him again and he knew it as well as she did. Their kiss became deeper and filled with intimate purpose and she could feel his arms tensing around her, readying to take her. Within moments of her thinking this, he rose to his knees abruptly, and pressed her against the side of the tub, she was now folded at the waist with her thighs on either side of his hips. She heard as he gripped the edge of the tub with one hand, his other taking hold of his masculinity to guide himself to her entrance. She felt the anticipation grow even more, but right as he was about to drive himself home, a screech of a falcon was heard, before a rather large peregrine swooped over their heads, before landing on Jaqen's shoulder, where it then started to bump it's head against Jaqen's face.
"Curses!" Jaqen almost growled. "Damnable bird! You're supposed to be on a man's side, not blocking him!" He added, half-heartedly glaring at the falcon. Then to her he looked down apologetically.
"I'm sorry, dearest. This is Farangal. He is my messenger falcon and it seems he has found his way to me with a notice." Then with a sigh, he kissed the top of her head, before backing away from her, making sure to ease her into a more comfortable sitting position.
She watched as he took the letter from the bird's beak, before he stroked the falcon's head affectionately. "I apologise handsome boy, but you unintentionally cock-blocked me and that annoyed a man."
At this Arya couldn't help but laugh out loud. His words mixed with his boyish pout and how the bloody falcon seemed to do the bird-version of a shrug, as he ruffled his wings, just looked too comical to her. "Gods! You, cock-blocked by a bird, I never imagined I would ever see that happen!"
Jaqen playfully curled his lip at her, sucking in a breath. "Devilish woman! Mind your jests!" He joked, which just further encouraged her laughter. But eventually she settled as Jaqen's face changed to one of seriousness as he read the now opened note.
"Is everything ok, love?" She asked, nervously. Leaning towards him, but not so much that she would see the contents of the note in case he didn't want her to know what was written. Glancing over at her, he sighed and nodded before handing her the note to read, with a smile.
"Aye, it is. It seems a man's superior is offering warnings to him now. As well as offering to keep an eye on what is happening in the House." Jaqen explained, sliding back to lean against the other side of the tub. Farangal cawed in protest, but quitened down when Jaqen gave him a glare.
"You lost your right to protests, Faran." He muttered, making Arya snicker yet again, drawing Jaqen's eyes to her, where he narrowed them in half-hearted warning. Ignoring this in favour of focusing on the note, she read it carefully and found the contents to be quite surprising.
'To A Man,
An elder has sent Farangal to a man for two reasons. One of which is to prevent a man's sire from using the creature to track his whereabouts. He should keep Farangal with him and do not send him back to an elder.
The second reason is that an elder now offers to be a man's eyes and ears within the House of Black and White. A man's sire has become unhinged and an elder fears what he may do, should he find his offspring.
A man should stay where he is and take care of himself and his woman. An elder believes he knows a man's whereabouts but is pretending he knows nothing. An elder views a man as his own offspring and wishes to see him happy in life. A man has been trying to leave the order for a long time and an elder could do nothing to help him gain his wish. But he can now do this.
An elder will keep your secrets and will be a man's eyes, ears and if needed, his hands here in Braavos. Speak a name boy and an elder shall do the rest.
Any further missives will be sent via an elders falcon. As far as a man's sire believes, an elder doesn't particularly care for him. So it shall be easy to send him notices that he needs to be aware of.
Best,
An Elder in Rank
But Cadigan in Name.'
Arya raised her brow at this before looking at Jaqen once more. She wasn't sure who this Cadigan was, but she could only assume he was an important figure within the order.
"Who is Cadigan? And why is he choosing to help us? Can he be trusted? I don't know about this Jaqen…" She trailed off, as she handed him back the letter, before she stood and stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around herself.
Jaqen nodded at this in understanding before he followed her movements, sending Farangal off to perch on one of the exposed beams on the ceiling. The poor thing had flown far and long, he was bound to be tired. Arya made a note to ask for extra food and water, so that they could feed him. Picking up her hair comb, she watched as Jaqen wrapped his waist and stepped out of the tub as well. Setting the letter aside, he then made his way over to where she had taken a seat at the bistro table again. Taking her comb from her, he began to run it through her hair instead. She could do it herself but she wasn't going to complain. It was long, very long now and a little help with it would not hurt, so if he was willing then she would be agreeable.
"Cadigan is the head of the entire order of the Faceless. He is the eldest son from the founding family, thus he runs things at the House. But even a leader is bound by tradition and rules." Jaqen explained, pulling the comb through her hair gently, pausing to untangle stubborn knots as he went, that he knew the comb could get through but not without hurting her or damaging her hair.
"So we shouldn't trust him? If he is that powerful and is offering to be a spy he could be working with your father and trying to trick you." She offered as a counter, lifting the water jug from the table and pouring two cups. One for herself and one for Jaqen. Handing his to him, he accepted and took a few sips before setting it down again and continuing working on her hair.
"A fair assumption from someone who does not know him as I do. Cadigan is more than trustworthy, lovely girl. I hadn't gone to him before we left because there would have been nothing that he could do. This would have fallen under a particular set of rules, that governs lineage based membership." He elaborated, sighing in weariness as he spoke. He was exhausted now, she could tell.
Not that she blamed him, they had travelled a great distance and then the bath hadn't helped by relaxing all of their muscles. She moved to take the comb from him so that he could take some time to tend to himself instead. But he moved his hand out of her reach, using his other to tap at her wrist in light reprimand reminding her of their time at the House, when he would swat at her with a thin cane when she failed to answer a question properly. Puffing out an amused breath, she relaxed in the chair and let him continue.
"Oh and what are those rules?" She asked, looking out of the window and watching as two starling birds flitted around one another in a clear mating dance. She smiled at the scene, huh funny how life just kept moving, no matter what was going on in the world.
"When it comes to multiple family members, all of whom are a part of the order, other leaders may not step in. Unless the situation contravenes forbidden edicts within the organisation. And it has to be discussed amongst all elders. One cannot move without the others." He elaborated, finishing combing her hair through. Thinking he would set her comb aside now and actually sit with her. She was surprised when his fingers started to move within her hair again. It was soon made clear that he was styling her hair. Curious about how he knew what to do with a woman's hair, she didn't ask but rather waited to see what he would do with it. And as he styled, he continued to speak.
"My father is within rights and is not contravening any of those edicts. He did what he was supposed to do. Offer me a rational and alternative option. Also his threat to you is perfectly within the rules as well. He would frame you as a threat to the order and thus be within rights to eliminate that threat. In any way he can."
She heard him sigh in frustration and before he took one of her hands and placed it on her head, just above her ears. "Please keep your hand there for a moment, lovely girl." He said quickly before she heard him turn and head towards the bed where he picked up one of the smaller packages. Bringing it back over, he set it on the table and opened it up. What was inside was a selection of hair accessories. Small, medium and large pins. As well as berets and ties. Taking a few of the smaller pins, he moved her hand away and started to work again. Picking back up where he left off in his explanations.
"Thus in this, Cadigan would have been unable to do anything to help or protect us. You must understand Arya, Cadigan has raised me. Where my father trained and disciplined me? That was all he did. He was grooming me for a specific purpose. After I had passed ten summers? He stopped viewing me as his child and instead viewed me as a tool and nothing more."
She could hear the catch in his voice as he spoke and knew that he was embittered by this. But he was also saddened a great deal. She had to wonder what changed for Astor, that he would stop being a doting father, as Jaqen had described him one night, while they were eating in their cabin aboard the ship. What happened to make him into such a bastard, that he would treat any of his children they way he had apparently treated Jaqen. She knew Jaqen hadn't shared all of his history with her yet. Enough time playing the game of faces with him, had taught her not only when he was lying? But when he was withholding as well. And in this case, he was withholding something or indeed a couple of somethings. But she trusted that soon he would tell her everything.
She didn't think he planned to keep much of anything from her. There were still somethings that she hadn't told him about their time apart. As he had said to her when they had first met at Harrenhal. 'A girl has secrets and she is entitled to them' but that went both ways. He had secrets also still and he was entitled to them as well. He would share them when he was ready and there may be even some that he would never share with her and that would be just fine too. There would be things that he would never know about her. But for the most part, she knew they would eventually become like open books to one another. Until then? She wouldn't press him for anything more than he was willing to give.
"Cadigan by comparison? He treated me like a father is supposed to treat a son. He supported me in all things and helped me explore all of my talents and abilities that were removed from order business. He was there through all my trials and tribulations and did everything he could to help me and see me safe, through them. But for the most part his hands had been tied. There was only so much he could do, before he would violate the rules surrounding 'family business'." Jaqen shared, his hands finally falling from her hair as he picked up her, now infamous, pin. He smiled down at it, as he turned it over in his hands, his fingers running over the pretty silver metal appreciatively.
She had always loved that pin. She had never really been one for 'girly' things. It just hadn't been her particular taste. As she had thought, dresses and fancy hair only got in the way of her moving her body in the ways she needed to move it. But since Jaqen? She had found herself wanting to dress more like a woman from time to time and allow him to see her as something other than the equivalent of a 'tom-boy'. Even though she knew that he wanted her regardless of how she looked or dressed, she wanted to make a little extra effort and maybe try the 'girly' thing once more. But she had no idea where to start, women's clothing was made for daintiness or simplistic city life. Not fighting or combat. Even women's armour had to be made in a very particular way and it took much longer to craft than mens, on account of the breasts and such. But she had started looking for different clothing anyway, but had come up empty.
Any clothing that could work for fighting was also skimpy as hell and belonged more in a boudoir than in a real fight. Or it was too long and full, the skirts tangling in her legs, when she tried to jump or kick. Not to mention the lack of arm movement to use a sword. Terrible stuff. But when Jaqen had presented her with that hairpin, on the night that she now classed as their first courting, she had been rather touched.
It was a long, silver pin shaped like a dagger. The 'hilt' of which was formed to resemble a falcon, which now that she had met Farangal made a lot more sense, and inlaid with opal and sapphire stones which scattered across the wings and glittered prettily in the light. The pin was also etched with the words 'Valar Morghulis' on one side and 'A man waits...' on the other. Now that she thought about it, that really should have been her first indication that Jaqen had perhaps started to look at her in a more romantic way.
"You know, when a man made this? He had been so nervous to present it to a woman. He knew she wasn't much for the fancy, ladies things that others so enjoyed. So a man tried to make it as simplistic, but as pretty as possible. To find balance between function and femininity. He was quite proud of it when he was done."
"I really do love… wait!" She sputtered, catching the full breadth of his words. "You made it!?" She asked, flabbergasted.
"Don't look so surprised. As a man has said, he has many talents that a woman is unbeknownst of." He chuckled, before he wrapped the last piece of her hair around the pin, before placing it in the centre of her styled hair, securely. "But yes, lovely Arya. A man made it with his own hands." He added, his tone soft with happiness, to know that she loved the gift.
"Then I love it all the more, to know you made it. Thank you Jaqen. It really is a wonderful gift." She said shyly, turning to wrap her arms about his waist and hug him to her, her head resting just below his chest. She felt his hand fall to the back of her neck, his other arm wrapping around her shoulders, as he returned the hug.
They stayed like this for a little bit just enjoying the quiet and the calmness of the moment. But soon the moment came to a natural end and he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, before he turned and headed towards the bed and opened two of the other packages. Waving her over, she stood and walked to him. Once she was beside him, he handed her one of the open packages. Taking the items from inside, she almost gasped again. The clothes he had found for her were…well they were a perfect blend between fighting and femininity.
The bottom of the outfit was a pair of thin, close fitting, tapered pants. While the top was also fitted almost like a corset but not quite. The bottom of the top also included a train of sorts, that was light but flowing. It would drop to just above her ankles and cover the sides and front of her legs partially. Leaving them completely free for running, jumping or kicking. The sleeves of the top had straps that went over her shoulders, then a band that went around her upper arms loosely but not too loose that it slipped down further than it should. Both parts were connected below her armpit, to leave open space for complete mobility of her arms and shoulders. The cuffs of the sleeves also tapered to a point that draped over the back of her hand and ended with a loop for her middle finger to go through. The bust of the top was cut in a subtle 'V' that shared a glimpse of her cleavage but kept most of her form under wraps and up to the imagination. Well not Jaqen's imagination, he'd know exactly what was underneath these clothes when she put them on. But everyone else would be left to wonder.
The pants were dark brown in colour, while the top was a beautiful emerald green, with subtle gold trimming. It was really quite lovely as far as she was concerned and the material of the whole outfit felt like it would be breathable and comfortable. Smiling at him in thanks, she began to dress. And as he followed her lead, he picked up where he had left off, regarding Cadigan and the House of Black and White.
"To continue our previous conversation. For the moment, I am classed as a rogue member. I have left the order without leave and thus I fall firmly within Cadigan's jurisdiction. Only the main leader of the order can deal with rogue agents. So now? Now he has all the opportunity in the world to help me." He explained, as he dropped his towel and slipped into pants, fairly similar to her own.
Except his were black instead. Arya couldn't help herself, as her eyes dropped to below his waist. She frowned before looking up towards the rafters, her turn to now glare at poor Farangal. Not that he noticed, as his head was tucked under his wing in a roosting position. Shaking her head and narrowing her eyes when she heard Jaqen chuckling, as he had caught her looking, she spoke.
"So then, wouldn't I fall into the same category? Shouldn't Cadigan be the one to 'deal' with me as well?" She queried, finishing putting on her top and lacing up the front, her eyes widening a bit when she saw what it did for her bust.
Damn, she thought absently, her girls had never looked this good. She felt eyes on her and looked up, just to find Jaqen looking at her bust in appreciation also. She smirked at this. Well, that was a nice little ego boost. But soon he tore his eyes from her chest, although it was with difficulty, and moved them to meet her eyes.
"Unfortunately not, lovely girl. You never went through your initiation into the order. You left before you could complete that part. So you are classed as an acolyte still, one who left with all the knowledge of us, but never became a full-fledged member. Thus, unfortunately, you do fall under my fathers jurisdiction. You are a threat, Arya. Well, as far as my father is concerned. He cares little for why you left, just that you did. Cadigan can't protect you, only me. But by helping me, he is helping you." He explained, before he pulled on his new top. Then leaning down he picked up two boxes. One of which he handed to her, while he kept the other.
Opening the one that was for her, she found a lovely pair of calf-length, black leather boots. Boots that had a small heel on them. Nothing too big or slender. But just enough to add about three inches to her height. They, she realised as she slipped them on and laced them up, were perfectly functional still. She would be able to run just fine in these if she needed to. Honestly, she didn't know how he had managed to find things that were a fantastic balance between what she already liked and what she had started to want.
"Did he also hint in his note that should you speak your fathers name, that he will deal with him?" She asked, standing straight again and watching as Jaqen laced up his own boots.
"That is most likely what he was telling me, yes. Like it or not, dearest one, the only way this ends now, is if my father is taken off the board completely. There may be no love lost between him and myself, but Cadigan knows that it may still be hard for me to do what must be done. So he is offering to take that burden from my shoulders." He replied, finishing tying his boots and then taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
She did not miss how he did not look at her as he answered, nor did she miss his sigh of resignation that was bordering on melancholy. Not that she blamed him, his father was a bastard of the highest order, but for better or worse, he was still his father. Kneeling on the bed, she shuffled over and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on top of his in comfort. This was difficult no matter what way they looked at it and Jaqen was caught between a rock and a hard place. When all he wanted was to live his life for himself for once and for them to be together.
"You know you don't have to do it, right? I'm sure we can find another way, lover." She whispered considerately, feeling as his arm came up to rest over hers, his thumb running over her wrist gently.
"I don't have a choice, lovely girl. It's me that does it or it's Cadigan. Either case the result remains unchanged."
"There is always a choice…" She reminded him, harkening back to when they first met.
"Yes, indeed there is. But all other choices end with your death and my imprisonment at my fathers side. I won't have this happen again. No, not again. Never again." He spoke, but his words had trailed to a whisper at the end and Arya's ears perked at this.
"Again? What do you mean again, Jaqen!?" At her question she felt him tense below her, before he shrugged her off gently but firmly and stood.
"A slip of the tongue, Arya. Nothing more. Do not worry about it." He said, his tone holding an edge to it that she took to be a warning for her not to push. But to hell with that.
"That was not a slip of the tongue, Jaqen H'ghar. That meant something. So I ask you once more. What do you mean, again!?" She pushed, her eyes narrowing at him.
But instead of answering her, she watched as his eyes shuttered almost instantly and walls that she hadn't seen in years, came up around him. "That is not something you need to know, Arya Stark. Do not ask a man this question again!" He snapped, startling her, but before she could challenge him any further he snatched up his disguise and as soon as he placed it, he spun and left the room.
Arya moved to follow him but stopped herself. No. She needed to give him space. She would find out what the hell that was about one way or the other. But before she could even try, she needed to let him breathe. Whatever he was hiding it was painful and it still hurt him to this day. If she pushed now she would only damage the trust that they had built up over the years. But particularly over the last handful of moons. She wouldn't let this go though, if something like this had happened before? Then she needed to know the details, particularly if it had included Jaqen and someone else. She needed to know the others fate and what she could be potentially getting herself into if she was to remain with him. And if he wanted her to stay, then this was a non-negotiable tale and he had to tell her.
-X-
