Tales From The House Of Black And White

She sensed him before he'd even entered her room. Her eyes, although still heavy, slid open at the same moment her bedroom door creaked inward.  What was he here for tonight, she wondered? What was the purpose? Did he plan to wake her and play an impromptu session of the Game of Faces? No, that was unlikely. He hadn't done that for quite some time. As he stepped into her room, she heard her door creak closed before it quietly clicked into place again. Not unusual, she thought, he often closed her door behind him. But as this thought crossed her mind, another sound reached her ears. A click of an entirely different sound.  The click of a key turning in a lock.  That was new, she thought worriedly. He never locked them in her room together. It was frowned upon for the masters to do so. For obvious reasons. So why was he breaking that rule? What was he planning to do that he wanted to make sure no one would stumble upon them? She listened as he stepped further into her room. Her back was to him, so he wasn't aware yet that she was awake already. She knew she should probably turn and ask him what in the hells he was doing. But she also kind of wanted to see what would happen while he thought she was asleep. What would he do? What would he say? And why did he choose her for this? She wasn't his only acolyte. He had three more, not including her.  She heard his steps approach her bed, whisper-soft, slow and careful. That, she realised with surprise, was because he must be barefoot. But why would he be trying to hide his footfalls? He'd never bothered before when he visited her in the night. So was that to cover his steps from her? Or was that to cover them from…others? As her mind spun, his divine scent began to fill her nose. Close. He was so very close now. She could almost feel the heat that radiated from his body as he stood behind her.  “A man knows that a woman is awake. Still she has not mastered keeping her breathing even enough to mimic sleep.” His voice danced through the air, low and holding a note of something that made her shiver and warmth pool low in her belly.  “A woman tried at least. A man should give her that. Why is he here and why is he barefoot?” She asked, still not turning around to face him. Part of her didn't want to. What would she find if she did? What would his face show? “And why….” She added with a soft breath to steel herself for this question. “Did he lock the door?”  “A woman is most curious tonight, isn't she? But a man supposes he should expect no less. This is quite new for a woman. To answer her questions a man is barefoot to hide his steps from all others that may hear them. And why did he lock the door? Well, that is because it is time that a woman finally completed her training. There is only one unit left, lovely girl…” He answered, his voice sliding over her like a caress. Deep, lovely and filled with a decadence that she couldn't name but that her body responded to most ardently. It knew what her mind was ignorant of. Completion of her training? One final unit? What did that mean?  “A woman sees. And what is this…final unit? And why does it require such privacy?” She asked him, her tone showing both her curiosity but also her suspicion. He gave a small hum that almost sounded amused. But she couldn’t be sure.  “Turn and look at a man, Arya Stark. For this, he will look upon her as she will him.” He ordered softly, and she couldn't help but follow his instructions without hesitation.  But the moment she turned, her eyes widened as she saw something completely new in Jaqen’s eyes. A look that both scared and exhilarated her. His gaze was so heated, it felt searing, and her womanhood gave an answering pulse. A pulse that had her wanting to clench her thighs, to relieve the sensation, if only a little. He was holding up a lantern, whose flame was kept low. Sending shadows to dance across his face, making him look both mysterious and deeply attractive. More so than she normally found him. He gave her a slow, seductive smirk before he set the lantern on the small table beside her bed. Hands now free, he lazily brought them to his robes, where his fingers quickly found the ties that held them in place. Her eyes widened again, and she sat up straight, backing away from him slightly. Her eyes were unable to tear away from him. Why was he undressing!? What was this!?  “The final unit, lovely girl…” He drawled in a low, sensual tone. “Is learning how to use seduction and your body as a weapon. Particularly if it's the only thing you have in your arsenal. Some assignments call for you to go in unarmed and require…delicate maneuvering. In order to achieve the desired end result. A man has been on many such assignments and he is your teacher. So he must tutor his student in this particular art as well.” He answered, and immediately her mind crashed through the door of sharp, clear understanding. Oh Gods, he meant to… “We can’t!” She snapped, scooting back more on her bed. Dismay slammed into her gut when she felt her back meet the unyielding stone of the wall. “It’s not allowed. We could be killed!” “No, Arya. It wasn’t allowed. It never will be while an acolyte is still young. Still below their majority. A good rule. A necessary rule. We must never abuse our positions of authority, and so the appropriate punishments are put in place to deter such an act. But once an acolyte reaches their majority, three moons and a day after, to be exact. Those laws change.” He explained, using the tone he always did while he was instructing her. He was stating facts and nothing more. And she realised now that as of tonight? She had been twenty years old for exactly three moons and a day. She also came to the realisation that she had read about this in the tomes in the Library. The final module of learning and instruction. It even had its own name.  The Compendia of Instruction in the Ways of the Flesh This module of learning was normally undertaken solely between a student and their primary instructor. Carried out over four days and three nights. However, given the delicate nature of the learning, an acolyte could choose to take instruction from another of their minor instructors if they so chose. Or from a newly titled master who was closer to them in age, if it was more preferable. The majority age, in the House of Black and White anyway, was considered to be twenty summers for both men and women. And if she remembered correctly, this was an entirely optional module. Grabbing onto that wisp of memory, she queried him again.  “Is this not considered an optional course of learning?” She asked sharply, and his brow rose delicately, and he smirked again. As he answered her, she noted that he released the second-to-last tie of his robes. The thick, grey material parting at his chest in such a way as to expose a long, teasing strip of pale skin. Her mouth went dry at this, and between her legs gave another strong pulse, as desire flooded her veins. “It is, you are correct, lovely girl. But a man thinks she and he know, without it being voiced, that she very much wishes to proceed with it. A man would not approach a woman as he has tonight if he were not already sure of her choice.” He answered her honestly, his hand dropping to the last tie. The one that, once he undid it, would allow his robes to fall open completely and enable him to slip out of them easily. He wasn’t wrong in his assumption. She knew that. Had known that she’d wanted him for at least the past year. Wanted him as a woman wants a man. Secretly, she had been waiting for this moment, though she would have never voiced it. Not that it seemed to matter, as apparently, he’d realised it too. She wondered how long he’d known, and if that look of his from earlier that still hadn’t left his eyes was evidence that he’d been looking forward to this as much as she had been. Had he wanted her as a man wants a woman, also? But like her, hadn’t dared give voice to it? “I’m still untouched, Jaqen.” She said, unsure why she did, but knowing she’d felt as though she should. His eyes flared, as his lips parted in a soft smile.  “A man knows.” He answered as the last tie came undone and his robes fell open. “He will change that tonight. The act of lying together as two red-blooded people are wont to do is the first step.” He explained as he shrugged out of his robes. The fabric sliding from his body in a sensual drop and flutter, leaving him in nothing but what the Gods blessed him with at birth.  No small clothes. Nor any other form of modesty garment. Something she suspected was unique to this private moment between them. And seven hells if the man wasn’t beautiful to look at. He looked hewn from marble, his arms and abdomen cut with finely honed and hard muscle. He was broad with wide shoulders that looked strong. His thighs appeared powerful and thick. Gods, but everything on this man was thick from his arms and legs to his…Gods keep her! She thought as her mind stuttered to a halt when her eyes found that which made him traditionally male. He was only half-ready at the moment, but already she could tell that he would be large when he came to full-mast. Noting her worried look and understanding it for what it was, he chuckled.  “Worry not, lovely girl. A man will fit and he will ensure that she is….more than ready for him when it’s time. But first…” He purred as he stepped closer and then sank onto her bed gracefully. His hands took her face between them. “A man will do something he has waited quite some time for…” When his lips crashed down on hers and kissed her in such a way as to make her head spin and her body scream out in utter relief? Because finally! Finally, she had his lips on hers. Finally, she was getting to know the intimate taste of him; she knew without any shadow of a doubt that she wanted whatever the hells he would give her tonight. So lost in the kiss as she was, she missed when he slid the straps of her night slip down her arms and then pulled it off her completely. She only realised when she found herself on her back and felt Jaqen’s skin on her own as he settled between her thighs like he belonged there. He rolled into her with a firm, sensuous undulation of his hips, and she couldn’t help the choked, soft moan that was pulled from her as she felt his manhood pressing so decadently against her core. A moan that had Jaqen seizing the opportunity to turn the kiss into something deeper and more passionate, his tongue playing and teasing hers. But suddenly he broke from her, just to look down with his eyes blazing such intimate heat. But still, that cheeky smirk played on his lips.  “So…” He purred down at her. “Does my Lady of Stark wish to continue her instruction…” He asked, and she narrowed her eyes up at him.  “If you don’t kiss me again, Jaqen H’ghar? I will ensure your family name dies out this night.” She hissed in annoyance, and he chuckled.  “As his lady wishes…” He quipped, and then he was devouring her mouth once more.