Tales From The House Of Black And White

-8-8-8-8-8-8- ‘...I was stranded Then you landed Pulling me from fatal voices that kept my soul bleeding My hands were always reaching…’ -8-8-8-8-8-8- Jaqen and Arya looked at each other, both utterly unsure of what to do next. Her eyes asked him for an answer, while his told her that he didn't have one. Both slid their gaze back to the space in between and to the front of them, where a pair of doe eyes of light blue peeked up at them from a small, young face. A girl. A young girl. One they weren’t expecting to end up with. This was supposed to be a regular, run of the mill assassination. But by the time they had killed their target and stepped outside again, the town was in flames with bodies littering the ground. They had been in an underground cellar where their mark had weaselled themselves away, which had prevented them from hearing any of the commotion going on above. The cellar had let out into a series of caverns that had taken them every which way before they'd finally found their target. It had taken a while to find their mark and a while to find their way back. Thankfully Jaqen had marked the path out with the white artist's chalk that he always kept with him. During stakeouts, Arya had found that he enjoyed sketching, so he always had charcoal with him as well as other coloured chalks. He was quite gifted in art she had realised with some surprise, the first time she'd ever been paired with him on a longer mission. Well, after she'd gotten over the surprise that he enjoyed sketching. It had just seemed so…out of place. The same hands that killed with skill and accuracy were also the ones that drew beautiful pieces of observational artwork. In fact, hanging in her rooms at the House of Black and White right now, was a sketch he'd drawn of her one night. They had settled down in the woods of Dorne and the sun had been setting behind her. It was quite a pretty rendition of her, drawn in a style that was uniquely his. It had been interesting to get a glimpse at how she appeared through his eyes. It had given her a new understanding of how he saw her. She had told him once “Sometimes I wonder what you see when you look at me.” At the time he had answered her with a vague “How can a man tell a woman this?” And that was it. That was all he'd said. She hadn’t realised, until she'd found the sketch of her on her pillow a few weeks later, that perhaps he hadn’t been able to find the words. But he'd been able to find a way to tell her through his art. He had drawn her in the sunset, smiling because he'd made some joke or other, she remembered. But in the background she had seen the burning banner of her house, as well as a woman wheeling an oyster cart. Then off in the far distance, she saw, side by side, black and white doors of a temple and the walls of a stone keep. There was also a river flowing in the middle distance behind her, cutting through a field of wildflowers. Some of which were bloodied and some unblemished. And in a tree branch above her head, there were two birds perched, leaning against one another. One grey and black and the other grey and red. It had told her a lot. It let her know that he saw all of her in all of her many iterations. He saw the lost innocence of Arya Stark's girlhood, denoted by the burning banner. He saw bravery as she became No One, shown by the temple doors. He saw the return of Arya Stark as she claimed back herself and her life, which was why the stone keep was beside the temple, meant to symbolise Winterfell. Because one form of her couldn't have existed without the other. He saw her innocence personified in Lanna, as she walked Braavos with her oyster cart. Which is why a girl with a cart was in the sketch. And he saw the ferociousness of her vengeance in the creation of Cat of the Canals. Hence the river cutting through the field of wildflowers. Half of these flowers were bloodied, bent and with petals torn. However, they weren’t destroyed. A symbol of all the death and suffering that she had seen but survived. The other half was left untouched and thriving, for when she returned to him after saving her home and her people. The birds in the tree represented their relationship to one another that had grown and changed over the years. Closeness and trust had formed and had been nurtured by them. Which is why the birds were leaning into one another. Supporting each other. And then there was her in the centre, in front of a sunset. Finally a woman and finally in a place of self-assuredness and confidence. He saw all of her and he appreciated every variation. It had been a heady thing when she had first realised all of the symbolism and what it meant. But when she had gotten her head around it all? The sketch had quickly become a most treasured thing of hers. Not only because it had been drawn by him and then given to her. But because she then understood how dear he had become to her and why. It was because, out of every single person in her life? Jaqen was the only one to ever fully embrace her as she was and not try to change her into something she wasn't. He had given her the tools she had needed and been lacking, in order to survive in a world that would sooner see her below the clay than breathe for another day. He had watched over her and looked after her with no ulterior motivations. He'd simply wanted her to survive and keep surviving. That was it. That was all. Then, when she had returned to him? Even though it had been a bold and almost garish move, given how they'd parted. He'd simply accepted her back into his life with no quarrel and no resentment. In fact, he'd been happy to see her return and they'd been inseparable ever since. She still didn’t know why he'd been so willing to take her back. He'd never told her even though she'd asked. He'd just given her a mysterious look that she couldn’t even begin to interpret and then continued on as if she hadn’t asked anything at all. “Um…sweetie?” Arya spoke to the girl still looking up at her and Jaqen patiently. “Would you mind staying here for just a moment? My companion and I just need to have a quick conversation and then we'll be back.” She asked and watched as the child nodded. Arya thanked her then before she took hold of the edge of Jaqen’s armour and dragged him a little ways away from the girl. Once they were a comfortable distance away but still in sight, she met Jaqen's lovely blue eyes. “What the fuck do we do here, Jaqen? The girl's parents are obviously dead and she's already said they had no other family. We can't just leave her alone!” She hissed quietly and saw Jaqen’s hand come up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he nodded, his other hand coming to rest on his hip. A clear show of his loss of an answer. But he was thinking at least, so that was something. “A woman is correct. The girl is no older than five summers. So a man and woman can't leave her to fend for herself. The only thing he can think to do for the moment, is keep a girl with them. Then, the next town they come to, they can leave her there in the care of guards or similar.” He suggested and if the girl wasn’t so young, Arya would be inclined to agree. But because of her age, the idea did not sit right with her and so she didn’t like it at all. “We can't do that!? They'll end up selling her or something! And Gods know where she'd end up then! No. We're not doing that.” Arya turned him down and saw him roll his eyes in annoyed agreement. He knew she was right but it didn’t mean he had to like it. “Then please, enlighten a man, what clever ideas does a woman have? They are faceless! The House is no place for a small child such as a girl is. And even if they did bring her back with them, the leaders would just give her care over to a man and a woman anyway.” He pointed out and Arya ignored the strange thrill that that idea presented her with. She and Jaqen being made to be the girls' de facto parents? It was an idea that held a certain…taboo appeal for her. Or, at least, the ‘parents’ part did. But choosing to shove this away quickly and resolve to pretend she’d never felt it, she pushed back again. “Winterfell!” Arya blurted without thinking, causing Jaqen’s brow to slip into his hairline. “We could take her there. I'm sure Sansa would be willing to take the girl in. Or Bran would, and have her brought to King's Landing. At least then we'd know she'd be safe for the rest of her life. We wouldn't make good parents, Jaqen. I mean, you and I are good together in almost every situation. But I don’t know how well we'd be able to raise a child with each other!” The ghost of a smile that had crossed his lips at these words brought her up short. It was such a strange smile that it made her wonder what it meant. Or what had exactly gone through his head, when she had spoken the words in the first place. But then, she had been noticing strange expressions like these from him off late, when there was mention of something that held somewhat intimate undertones regarding them. Such as on their way to the town they had been in, when they’d had to stop at an inn because a storm had rolled in. The inn, already mostly full because of travellers looking to wait it out, had only double rooms available. Rooms with one bed, meant for couples. Arya had been prepared to find elsewhere for them that night, but Jaqen had simply smiled at the innkeep and told them it would do and they’d be fine with that. He’d said it so quickly and so comfortably that she had wondered just why he’d been so relaxed at the idea of sharing a room and bed with her. But when she’d asked him after they’d gotten to their room, he’d just gave her one of those mysterious looks with that strange smile and then told her to go and get warm by the fire, while he laid out their outer layers to dry. The rest of their clothes, their thinner under layers, would dry while they sat by the fire to eat and to drink. “A man rather imagines he and a woman would do quite well indeed in that capacity.” He mused, his tone carrying something in it that sounded dangerously close to interest at the idea. Not that she had a chance to comment on this before he was continuing. “But that is neither here nor there. He has never particularly wanted children before. It was one of the draws of the House for him. Less likely to end up with one of those, even accidentally, while there. So Winterfell sounds like a good enough alternative.” Before? She thought with intrigue. Why had he used that word? It insinuated that it was a past view that may no longer be held by him. Rather than one he still held. But nothing had changed in his life for a sudden change of heart on such a topic. At least, nothing that she’d known off. She’d known that recently, a few moons prior, he’d had a lover. A pretty thing from The Summer Isles that had come to the House to give a name. Jaqen had been handed the contract and it had taken him to the Isles with her for around four moons. He had written to Arya frequently during that time, and had mentioned that the woman had become his lover, Adiela, she believed her name had been. But when he had returned to the House after the contract had been completed, he’d informed her that the relationship had ended as well. Mutually and not bitterly. He’d said something about future ideals not aligning but he hadn’t gone into further details. But other than that, she’d known of nothing that could turn his view so drastically. So it was a curious word choice indeed. But rather than question him on this, something she could maybe prod him with later, she decided to tease him instead. “Thought about that a lot, have you? You sound so sure!” Arya said playfully, unable to contain herself. Before she burst out laughing at the scowl he gave her. “This is the single worst time for a woman to choose to enter her jesting mood! But seeing as she asked, a man may have thought of it a time or two. Errantly as it may have been.” He teased in return, his eyes twinkling with something that she couldn’t name. Just like every damned expression she’d seen from him lately. Honestly, at this point it was starting to drive her a bit mad. Because all it did was ratchet up her curiosity more and more. Which was frustrating in and off itself, especially when it wasn’t getting satiated. So it left her dancing on the edge of sanity. “Well that is a revelation! But it would never happen.” She laughed, as she reached up to adjust her own armour. The latchings of her right shoulder had gotten knocked a bit loose in the scuffle with their target and then working to free the young girl from the burning ruin of her family’s home. “And what makes a woman so sure of that? Thought about it a lot, has she?” He quipped and she felt her face try to blaze red. But she beat it back and instead gave him a warning look of half-hearted annoyance. “No. It is simply a process of deduction. To become parents, you have to have a child. And to get that child, you have to lay together. Something we've never done and probably never will. So unless we're planning an immaculate conception? The result is clear.” Arya retorted and wanted to hit Jaqen as he released a thoroughly amused chuckle, before that strange and mysterious look graced his handsome face again. What did it mean!? It seemed like it was one of interest, a somewhat heated smokiness. On one hand it seemed like it could be carnal interest but on the other, it also appeared to be as though he was curious about her. Trying to gauge her mood, when they talked about such matters. Or rather, in this case, joked about them. But lately she was feeling that the exchanges were becoming less joking and more serious. But surely she was misreading these things. This was Jaqen after all! And although she’d had thoughts of what it could be like to experience him above her in such a manner. She knew the likelihood of it happening was slim. Besides, she was pretty sure she only had these thoughts because he was simply a very attractive man. And women who preferred men, thought about these things with attractive ones like him. It was almost expected and a given. So surely that’s all it was for her, right? Right! Yes, that was all. “That could change…” He joked, although his tone was thick with seduction. “A woman need only ask. A man will provide relief if the urge is too great.” Now that did make her blush and she had to look away from him quickly. Dear Gods! But the man had become so brazen of late. Yes, she thought being reminded of her previous considerations. His flirtation with her had definitely knocked up a few notches over the past couple of weeks. And now she was wondering if maybe she was onto something, when she thought that these exchanges were, in fact, becoming more serious. So…she mused, was he now actually considering them ending up in the age-old dance? Because if he was– Shaking these dangerous thoughts from her head. She smacked his chest lightly and told him to behave before she spoke about the young girl again, choosing to ignore as her lower areas became a little tighter and warmer. “So. We will keep the girl with us and head towards Winterfell. It should take us about two weeks to get there from where we are now. We'll leave her in Sansa’s care and then we'll head towards White Harbour and catch the next ship back to Braavos. Does that sound like a plan to you?” She asked, brushing her hair out of her face and glancing at him. She was still unable to look at him fully while she was in the middle of talking her face down from its flushness. Rather than speak, although he was smirking diabolically, he nodded his agreement. -X- -8-8-8-8-8-8- ‘...I wanna know you in the dark Know you in your silence Your brilliance In the light…’ -8-8-8-8-8-8- As Jaqen walked he watched as Arya carried the girl that they were now the guardians of for the moment. The girl had gotten tired while they’d travelled, so Arya had picked her up to give her legs a break. She was a sweet child named Elena and although hurting very much over the loss of her parents, she still managed to find some sort of upbeatness when interacting with him and Arya. They had been taking turns carrying Elena when it was needed, sometimes she was in Arya’s arms or on her back. Then when Arya got tired, Elena would move into his arms or ride on his back. Honestly, they had found a good rhythm with the little one this past week and she was a joy to have around. But with her came heavier, stronger thoughts of Arya and him that he really shouldn’t be having. They had been bad enough over the last few months where, because they were such a good pair, the House had been sending them on more missions together. Usually longer, more complex ones because they had proven themselves more than capable of handling what they needed to handle. So naturally, they were considered a team and sent together a lot now. Initially, this hadn’t been too much of a struggle for him. He’d rather enjoyed getting to spend time with her in a way they hadn’t been able to for a long while. He’d missed the one-on-one time that they’d gotten quite a lot of when he’d been training her to become one of them. He’d been her mentor, thus she had been his sole responsibility. The waif had helped, only because Arya had needed someone on her own level to go against, in order to apply his teachings in practice. But overall, she had been his and his alone to teach. This hadn’t ever been a problem for him, she was his student and he her teacher. So their relationship had followed those strict lines and had never ventured where it shouldn’t. She was a girl, learning to defend herself in a world that would sooner see her without her head than anything else. So to have her to himself again, like he used to, had been a novelty and one that he had enjoyed. That was, until his thoughts had turned. He wasn’t sure exactly when he started viewing Arya as the woman she was rather than the girl of his memories. But the when didn’t really matter, just that it had happened. Innocent at first mind you. More a notice of her growth and realising that he could talk to her about many other things that he hadn’t necessarily been able to when she was younger. Deeper more philosophical things. They’d been able to talk about life as adults, rather than one adult and a girl. He’d been particular, as Arya had grown with him for the few years she was first at the house, to censor how he spoke to her. To only keep the conversations age appropriate to her and treat her carefully because he had to keep in mind that he was an adult man, young as he was, he’d still been an adult. So he had erred very much on the side of caution when dealing with her then, lest someone mistakenly believe that something inappropriate was happening between them in the shadows or behind closed doors. Especially when some of her training would see him alighting into her rooms in the dead of night while she’d slept. This careful positioning of himself in relation to Arya had been absolutely necessary. He knew that Westerosi law stated that as soon as a girl had her first blood, she would then be viewed as a grown woman. So a man could, if he wished, treat her as such and it be considered ok. Garish. Brutal and utterly immoral in his opinion. But then he wasn’t Westerosi. Essoian law however, was very, very different. A girl was not viewed as a woman until she reached her eighteenth summer, but even then she was classed as a debutante, someone just stepping into womanhood. So wasn’t considered fully-fledged until three summers later, when she turned twenty-one. And during the debutante years, where she could be treated as the woman she was, she was still not necessarily courtable by a man more than three years her senior. It made sense to him and he very much agreed with these laws and greatly preferred them over the barbaric ones of Westeros. He also felt that the consequence of breaking these laws were appropriately severe. So even when Arya had returned to Braavos after securing her family and home and protecting the realm from the White Walker menace? He was still staunchly careful with how he interacted with her because she was nineteen and he was twenty-nine. So he had simply continued viewing her as ‘a girl’ and let that be that. But now? Four years on? She was completely classed as a grown woman, thus his thirty-three years against her twenty-three was no longer considered inappropriate provided everything was utterly consensual. So he had relaxed his stance on being particular about his interactions with her and allowed things to develop between them much more naturally and freely. But it had come at a cost. He had begun to start seeing Arya through the lens of a prospective lover. It had changed slowly over the past lot of months. Developing from a deep fondness for the woman, to something else. He had started to see her beauty as a man would appreciate it, rather than a fleeting, sweetly-intentioned observation from a family member or friend. It had gone from ‘Oh? You look wonderful today, that hairstyle suits you.’ To something closer to ‘you look ravishing and my eyes want to travel the length of you.’ It had been something that had brought him greatly unsettled feelings and mentally he had been in a spiral. Especially when he had identified the reasons to be that he wanted to lay her down and explore every inch of her. But it wasn’t just a sexual attraction that he held for her, although that was most certainly there. It was an attraction to her mind and her as a person as well. If he were to wed for example, he would not think twice about taking Arya in that capacity. And if he did, he didn’t think he would ever regret the choice. She was a special woman indeed, one that brought sides out in him that he had sworn had long since died. She unearthed wants from deep within him that he had considered taboo, since he took his vows at the House of Black and White and renounced his identity. An identity that, upon meeting Arya for the first time, had come back from the dead. He had never meant to give her his real name when they met that day in Harrenhal. But for whatever reason, even then when she was but a girl of twelve, he hadn’t wanted to lie to her. He’d wanted her to know only the truth from him. So he had introduced himself as Jaqen H’ghar, the name he’d been crowned with upon his birth. Then, later, he had tried to bury that identity all over again when he had told her upon their parting that Jaqen H’ghar was dead. But that identity would never again see the locked insides of the steel cage of his soul. Not while Arya Stark lived and breathed. Thus, to her alone, he allowed himself to be who he was. He was Jaqen and she was Arya and that was how it was. He shared things with her that he hadn’t shared with anyone else. Truly she was the only one at the House of Black and White now that knew his real self. His own mentor was no longer a member, having left when he became too old to easily carry out the duties required from a Faceless Man. So not having any interest in taking a counselling position for the order, he had hung up his hood and his faces’ and settled himself in a comfortable home, somewhere in Lys. He was still alive and still wrote to Jaqen frequently but outside of his mentor, himself and Arya. No one else knew who he truly was. Arya had even stopped calling him by his name when they were within the walls of the House. She had instead taken to calling him ‘mentor’ instead. It had allowed for the name ‘Jaqen’ to fall silent once more, leading the rest of the members to assume it was a name of little import, that he had given to Arya years ago, just to give her as a girl, something to call him by. His ears pricked as he heard the minute shift in Arya’s gait as she walked beside him. Pulling himself out of his mind and thoughts he turned his head to look at her. What he found made him smile and shake his head slightly in affection. It seemed Elena had fallen asleep in Arya’s arms and her small body had relaxed completely, meaning her full weight was now being carried by Arya. The little girl didn’t weigh much really, but when asleep what she did weigh became dead weight and Arya was still only a woman of slight stature although still strong for her build. He paused before he stepped in front of Arya and reached for Elena. “Gently now, give her to me, lovely woman. A man can carry a girl for a while.” He didn’t comment when he saw Arya’s smile of gratitude and relief that she flashed him, before with careful movements they managed to transfer Elena into his arms. Once he had the little one secured against him comfortably, he fell back to Arya’s side and they continued walking. As they did he felt Elena shift in his arms before she nuzzled her head closer to his neck and breathed a cute and contented sigh in her sleep. His heart surged in his chest at this because truly it had been lovely to feel the young girl snuggle closer to him trustingly. Dammit all to the hells! Now he wanted to know if it would feel the same or better, if it was his own blooded child in his arms instead of Elena. A thought that ended up becoming a consideration of a deeper sort, when moving to his side that was sans sleepy child, Arya slipped her arm through his and with a small yawn herself, leaned against him as well. She was careful with her weight, knowing he was already carrying Elena’s, wanting to be close without overburdening him. This was something unusual that he had noticed from Arya of late, even before Elena’s presence. When they travelled she would, seemingly subconsciously, seek out closeness with him. Closeness like this, where she would be leaning into him or touching him. It was curious, especially when it was nightfall and they had set up camp and were preparing to bed down for the night. She hadn’t actually joined him on his sleeping mat yet, but she had gotten damned close to it. As she would roll her own out alongside his, with at most, a few inches in between the edges of both. He had found it rather amusing, especially when she refused to say anything to him by way of explanation and would hurriedly turn her back to him. What he knew but that she didn’t, was a few mornings after her doing this, he would wake before her and find her curled into him in her sleep. He had chosen to keep this knowledge to himself, purely because he knew she would be embarrassed about it. “A man suggests we make camp for the night. The sun will go down soon and will make further travel difficult. Especially with a girl in tow.” He found himself saying, before he’d known what he was about to say. “I think that would be a good idea. Just one problem with that, we only have two sleeping mats. One of those will have to be given to Elena. I knew there was something that we forgot to get in the last town.” Arya replied and he felt himself smirk. “That is fine, a man will give his to a girl and he and a woman can share.” He replied casually, shrugging one shoulder so as not to jostle little Elena. He held back his chuckle when he heard Arya almost choke at his words. But to her credit she took it in stride. But the tenseness of her hand on his arm told him that she felt anything but strideful. “Neither are wide enough for that, Jaqen! So how will that work? Considering our extra blanket will have to be given to Elena as well. So we can’t use that as an extension to my mat.” She queried and Jaqen honestly felt like the universe couldn’t possibly align any better for him at the moment. With another smirk he made his suggestion. He knew he was being a sly bastard at the minute. But the truth was, he desperately wanted to see how Arya would react to this. She’d almost died a type of death during the shared bed incident at the inn they’d taken shelter in from a storm. “Simple. A man and a woman will just have to get very close. She will sleep on top of him. If a girl was blood, she could do so instead. But she isn’t, so it would be inappropriate for her to sleep so closely against a man or a woman for that matter. But a man and a woman know each other well. So it will be fine and it’s only for a night.” He said and glanced at Arya from the side of his eyes and felt a thrill of satisfaction as her lovely face blazed a becoming shade of pink. “Why do I have to be the one to sleep on you!? Why can’t it be the other way around?” Arya asked, giving him a half-hearted glare of affront. “Oh?” He replied with a breathy laugh. “Does a woman want a man on top of her instead? He will oblige her if so.” He teased on the surface but it was only to hide the intent below. Intent that he allowed to bleed into his gaze for but a moment before he hid his thoughts from her once more. She stopped walking then and so he did as well. He wondered if perhaps he'd gone too far with that last quip. But as he met her eyes with his own once more what he saw there was not disapproval. But rather hard curiosity. She was about to ask him a question and if he knew what was good for him, he would answer her truthfully. “What is going on here, Jaqen? Between us. Things are different. You're different. We're interacting in ways we never have before. Speaking like we never have. So, what's going on? The undertones are clear and obviously charged with sensuality.” She asked and he felt as his lips spread into a seductive smile. “A woman is also interacting differently with a man. It is not just him that is doing so. She is responding in equal measure. He would then imagine that a woman should have figured things out by now. As it's obvious to him that they have become attracted to one another. And are acting on that attraction.” He answered plainly and watched, thoroughly amazed, as her face cycled through so many different expressions one right after the other. Surprise. Contemplation. More surprise. Embarrassment. Slight horror, which was concerning to him. Then resignation. Interest and finally acceptance. “Shit. We're going to fuck, aren't we?” She asked him, her expression one of grim understanding of the situation. Grim because up until now? He was sure that she hadn’t fully realised what they were leading to. He imagined she'd unknowingly suspected but hadn’t thought deeply enough about it to come to the conclusion herself. So she was now feeling rather…unobservant. Something that Arya Stark hated to feel. “Inevitably. Yes.” He answered, his tone and words forthright. There was no sense in being flowery about it. They were grown. Not two untried teens filled with anxiety and nerves. “When?” She asked next, a sigh falling from her lips as her weight shifted to one hip and her arms crossed under her bust. He shrugged one shoulder again and shook his head. “Like death, lovely girl. The act is certain. The time is not.” He replied, before turning to the right and heading towards the treeline that would lead them into the woods where they would camp for the night. He listened as Arya followed behind him, muttering to herself about something that he couldn’t quite hear. But he imagined it was to do with what they had just discussed. But at least it was out now, both of them understanding where they would end up, even if they didn't know when. “Would it not be better if we just decided to do it now and get it over with?” She suggested and he felt those words shoot straight to his southern grounds. But forcing the feeling away, he found his words. “A man would be most willing to do so tonight. That is, if they were in any other situation than what they currently were. But they have a young girl with them. They cannot lay together as men and women are won't to do, while a girl is with them. It would be improper and the chance of her seeing something she shouldn't, is high.” He advised and heard Arya choke back a sound of horror, when she realised she had clean forgotten about Elena for a moment. “Well then. Sleeping on top of you tonight, is going to be a whole lot harder than it would have been otherwise if we had not had this conversation.” She mumbled, more to herself than to him, but he answered anyway. “A woman will not be alone in her difficulty. A man may need to sleep on his hands at this point.” He grumbled to himself but Arya had heard and she had sniggered. “Glad I won't be the only one suffering then.” She said, before they fell silent again and he knew they were both thinking over the implications of this evening's conversation. -X-