Tales From The House Of Black And White

“If you hurt my lovely girl? You will answer directly to me.” Arya felt both a wave of relief and of vindication, as Jaqen's voice seeped from the shadows where he had hidden. His tone was low, deep and deadly. Each word spoken in such a way as to ensure there was no doubt as to what he would do. Should the man holding her at sword-point, even so much as knick her with the sharp edge.  She felt the man at her back tighten his hold and she winced when she felt the bite of cold steel against her throat. Something Jaqen noted and his expression grew darker and more dangerous than before. She felt so defenseless at the moment. She wasn’t armed appropriately for this. And the weapons she did have on her, weren't somewhere easily reached. The closest one was the large, silver hair pin that she had as the centerpiece of her elegantly twisted and tidy bun. The fox shaped pin, sharpened to a deadly point at the tail and reinforced so that it could double as a small, easily concealed dagger. But it was in her hair and if she attempted to reach for it? Her captor would know she was up to something and stop her. Gods! She hated this lack of armament. But she was only supposed to be here in an observatory capacity. As an envoy of the Faceless Men, to find out more about the death that this man wanted to bring about. So it would have been in bad taste to show up armed to the teeth.  However, her host, the man holding her now, had taken a liking to her and had attempted to claim her as his own. She had refused but he'd heard none of it and instead had chosen to imprison her. She had warned him. Warned him that someone he didn't want to get on the wrong side of, was expecting her. And if she didn't return? He would come looking for her. The man hadn’t believed her. But now, as Jaqen stepped fully out of the shadows like a specter? She could feel the man at her back trembling slightly.  Not that she blamed him. Jaqen was an impressive, dangerous sight to behold. Especially when angered and he was very angry right now. He was dressed head to toe in black. Form-fitting leathers covering his long, powerful legs and heavy looking boots on his feet. Boots she knew held steel caps within the toes. The heels also weighted with metal within. They were his shit-kicking boots and he wasn’t shy to use them during an attack. She felt as her captor shifted to step back and drag her with him, but Jaqen’s next words froze the movement. “And whatever crimes I commit against you, this night? Remember. I have the right to do so with impunity.” He bit out, his tone a seething mass of fury, warning and lethality. The words although filled with dark threat, threat that wasn't bluster, had Arya’s insides melting.  She felt her body react to Jaqen, as it always did when he got like this. Her belly flipped deliciously and began to tingle as between her legs grew warm and began to work to slicken her for him. She knew she should probably be more wary of this side of him. That she should run a thousand miles in the opposite direction of him. But she loved when he got like this over her. Loved when he turned into her own personal killer, just because someone dared threaten harm on her.  But it seemed her captor was either thicker than two wooden beams, or he had more courage than sense. The very character flaw that Jaqen often poked fun at her for. Even now. Even though she was a grown woman and they shared a bed every night. And had made two children together. Gods, she thought, the children! What had he done about the children? Because if he was here, then who had her babies!? But she didn’t have time to ask, not that this was the time nor place, as the aforementioned captor displayed his lack of sense.  “Sir. You will find that the word ‘fear’ is not in my vocabulary!” He blustered, doing his best and failing, to sound convincing. Arya would have taunted him for this, if his sword wasn't still pressed against her throat. But it seemed she wouldn’t have to, because Jaqen chuckled in dark amusement. “Perhaps…” Jaqen replied, pausing for a moment to release the hidden catch inside of his sleeve. The beautiful short sword that she had commissioned for him for their first anniversary, slid down then and she felt her captor grow tense. Especially when, once fully extended, Jaqen caught the hilt in his hand and smirked. “But it's in your eyes and that's enough for me.”  What happened next was a blur for Arya who watched as Jaqen lunged. He moved so fast that her captor hadn’t had any chance to do anything to her or to defend himself. And then she was hitting the floor and scrambling away. Her captor released a deafening shout of pain. Jaqen’s blade now lodged firmly in the soft spot of the other man's shoulder. The blow caused his sword arm to fall just enough that it allowed her to drop to her knees and away from the blade. Jaqen spared one glance her way to make sure she was clear and then he was leveraging his foot against his opponents chest and with a slamming kick, knocked the man away from him, yanking his blade from his shoulder.  She could hear the tearing of flesh, muscle and sinew and knew that Jaqen had chosen to be deliberately vicious with his disengagement. But he wasn't done, far from it and for the first time since she'd known him? Arya had to close her eyes and look away from Jaqen as he doled out his punishment. But closing her eyes to the grotesquery did nothing to stop the sounds. Each slash, stab and cut was done with precision and nothing less than abject cruelty. She could hear as blood flooded from every wound that Jaqen inflicted. And the screams of her captor, as Jaqen practically tore him apart, would haunt her for the rest of her days. And for the first time that she could remember? She felt…scared of the father of her children. A sensation she wasn’t one bit used to. Nor did she like it. But soon a strange calm came over her.  A calm that she couldn’t explain and any fear of Jaqen that she felt, quickly gave way to something else. To a deeper, albeit sicker, love for the ruby and silver haired man. And she realised, with no amount of shame, that having him defend and protect her so animalistically, aroused her in a way she'd previously never felt before. This, she couldn’t explain either, but all she wanted to do now was drag him to the ground. Where she would divest him of his clothes and then ride him until neither of them could see, speak or move. Maybe even make a third child, though they'd agreed that two was more than enough. But really? What would one more hurt? After all, she loved to carry and birth his children. And she knew he couldn't get enough of seeing her ripe with his seed.  It was a sick and twisted consideration, given this scenario. But truth was truth and she wasn't in the habit of lying to herself. But her thoughts came to a halt as sudden silence reigned in the chamber below the beautiful estate that they were in. Silence that was broken shortly after it began, by the sharp, heavy clicking of Jaqen’s boots on the sandstone floor. She heard the singing sound of his short sword being drawn back into his sleeve and then the creaking of his leathers as he knelt in front of her.  “Lovely girl?” He purred gently. “My Arya. Open your eyes. It is done and over. Allow a man to look over you and ensure you are not hurt.” She couldn’t stop herself from doing as he bid her, even though she knew what she would see when she looked at him. But her eyes opened anyway. His face was spattered with blood and she imagined his clothes were as well. But the black colour of them hid the deep red.  “We need to get you cleaned up, Jaqen. You can’t walk around like this. He won't be found for a while. We need to be gone before then.” She found herself saying as her eyes flew over him and took in his full state. He rolled his eyes lightly as he pulled her to her feet, careful not to get any blood on her as he did so. Ignoring her words for a moment, his eyes ran the length of her in an assessing manner. He then circled round to her back and paused, where she assumed his eyes ran over her again. “I'm fine, my assassin. But you are not. We need to get you changed and to get out of here.” She said once he was facing her again and he nodded.  “I have spare clothing stashed outside. For both you and me. Remove the face and show your own. I will change mine.” He explained and then he was taking her hand and he was leading her down the hidden path that he had used to gain entry into the estate. A path even she hadn't been aware of.  -X- Jaqen felt his hands shake as he reached down into the flowing stream at his feet and scrubbed them clean. Gods but he’d been so scared for Arya. So furious when he heard that she hadn’t returned and that Vittoria was sure that something had happened. Vittoria was the Waif’s true name and over the last ten years, she and Arya had managed to settle their differences and miraculously become friends. He still didn’t understand how that had happened and he probably never would. But he’d known that if Vittoria was worried? Then he needed to be as well. That, combined with the lack of correspondence from Arya to him, had compelled him to go on the hunt. She never went too long, while on assignment, between one raven and another. So he’d already been suspicious and then Vittoria had told him that she’d had a bad feeling because she’d also not heard from Arya. So he had given his son and daughter to Vittoria to look after and he’d left to chase after Arya.  But now his fear and his anger was ebbing quickly and becoming relief but this had been too close. Much too close. It was time, now. Time for them both to bow out of the order. They couldn’t keep risking themselves like this any longer, not now that they had their young children to think about. Children that needed both of their parents alive and well for many more years to come. He knew Arya wouldn’t like this but it was something that needed to be done. Their children were their priority and they needed to be treated as such and today? They had come dangerously close to losing their mother forever. And when he’d chased after her? He had risked them losing their father as well. If even one thing had gone wrong tonight? Gods! He couldn’t bear to think of it. He sighed softly as he dunked a rag into the water and then wrung it out to bring it to his face where he scrubbed it clean as well. This was another thing that wasn’t right any more. They were parents, neither of them should be covered in another's blood, unless it was to protect their children. They had to be parents. They couldn’t be both assassin’s and raise Gisela and Rickon. They just couldn’t. So it came down to one or the other, but it wasn’t even a choice, because their two year old daughter and five year old son would always be their choice. He knew that, just like he knew that although Arya wouldn’t like leaving the House, she would always, always choose their babies over the Temple. Once his face was clean, he tossed the damp rag back into his satchel and stood, where he began to quickly undress himself, removing the blood-stained clothes that he was wearing.  As he did so, he felt Arya’s eyes on him, watching him. And he knew why she was doing it and it wasn’t to keep an eye on him. It was to enjoy him. Not that he minded her ogling him with hungry eyes. On the contrary he was greedy for those looks of hers. Looks that may or may not have been directly responsible for the existence of their children. He smirked to himself as he slowed his motions, deliberately making them seductive but appearing as though he hadn’t noticed what he was doing. He shouldn’t tempt her, not right now or like this. They still had a body lying in crimson, back through the rows of trees and down an underground passageway, not too far from where they now were. But he couldn’t resist. He loved to tease and tantalise her and she thoroughly enjoyed it too. Now that he thought about it, he was fairly certain that a scenario quite a bit similar to this one, had been the cause of Gisela’s existence. His smirk deepened then as the memory came back to him. Oh yes, he thought, yes it had been something like this that had led them to conceive their daughter.  -&- The moon shone down bright and full in the clearing that he and Arya had been standing in, hastily removing their ruined clothes.  The kill had been unexpected and not what they had planned, so it had been hurried and messy. But they had succeeded, but he was just thankful that she’d had the foresight to bring them both a change of clothing and two extra faces that they could use. They’d be able to slip out of Asshai now without being noticed. But as her gaze fell on him, her stormy grey eyes sweeping over him with an intimate hunger that he knew all too well, he found himself responding. She was stunning in her nude glory and bathed in silver light. Gods but he craved this woman like he needed air to breathe and he loved her beyond all sane reason. She’d given him her heart, her soul and his son and he would never stray from or risk losing her.  His legs were moving before he could stop himself and soon he’d swept her up into his arms and stole her lips in a searing, wanton kiss. A kiss that she returned in equal measure, a moan slipping loose, though she’d tried to hold it back. Seven hells, but he needed her and he needed her now. His hands slipped down to her thighs then, where he tossed her upwards, to catch her legs about his waist. Where he then pressed her against a conveniently placed and aged Oak tree. She gasped into his mouth as her back hit the rough bark of the oak and scratched her skin lightly. A gasp that he used to his advantage and invaded her mouth with his tongue.  But as he moved, to press himself within her she broke the kiss and gave him a warning.  “Wait! It's the middle of my moon cycle. If we…” She tried to say but he interrupted.  “A man knows. He keeps track of a woman's cycle. So unless she does, he does not care. It's been three years since their last.” He explained and she sucked in a breath, her eyes growing more hooded in her need.  “Then a woman does not, either.” She replied seductively and then he was kissing her again, his hips surging forward. Her call of pleasure at his entry was so loud, it sent birds scattering. Not that they had paid much notice. -&- Coming out of his reverie, he found Arya in front of him, her hands sliding over his chest to wrap her arms about his neck.  “Why can't a woman resist you, Jaqen H'ghar? What bewitchment have you placed on her, to make her crave you so?” She murmured in a purr of wanton desire. He smirked then and shook his head.  “None. A woman's desire and need for a man is all her own doing. But a man is happy to take advantage of it.” He responded with a chuckle, before he stole her lips in a deep kiss.  -X-