#jaqen h'ghar x reader

[random-imagines-blog]

Poison Oak {Jaqen H’Ghar x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3568 Summary: You travel in disguise to visit a fellow no one. Along the way, you become a someone. Notes: It is Jaqen and follows the show, so there will be death mentioned.

The armor, these ‘uniforms’ that the Lannister men wear had to be more uncomfortable than the most grizzled of faces. The squeakiness of the metal, the weight of it. A woman does not complain, though she wears something that was not made for her. A woman does not let anyone else know that she is not a man. You wore the face of a man for now, becoming one in manner, voice, and appearance. That was a gift from the Many-Faced God. You were no one behind the face. You were simply ‘A woman’ when you did not wear it, no name of your own, no past, only freedom, only unlimited skies. You were not currently on a job; you had no target near you that you were meant to assassinate. You were here for the company, despite the troublesome circumstances. You were a woman coming to meet a man. 

“Jaqen H’Ghar,” you said, your eyes catching onto those of your friend. A Faceless man recognizes another, and for a second, you see that his own eyes brighten up. You were always able to read his faces better than any book in the Citadel library. Every little twitch, glint in the eye, even the way that his nostrils would flare. Whatever face that he wore, you would be able to tell. That was a gift from the Many-Faced God.  

His head bowed to you, and he turned a corner into a corridor leading into the great castle. A quiet place, where we could talk alone. Despite the desolation of the castle, it’s near ruin, and the rumors of it being a cursed place - quiet was hard to find here. Echoes of those being tortured by ‘the Tickler’ were often bouncing around, reaching the ears of everyone, no matter how hard they held their hands to try to attain silence. “You’ve used this face before,” He hummed, firelight bouncing off of his red hair.  

“It is one of my favorites,” You admitted, your smile pulling at the hollowed cheeks of the person you were wearing. “Do you remember when I wore it last?” 

“Raventree Hall,” He nodded. “A man does not forget a kill. Especially when it is a team effort.” 

To others outside of you and him, this might sound like a stiff conversation. To the point. Almost impersonal. But your heart was beating fast beneath all of this metal, flesh and bone. Feeling first and thinking later was not the way that the Faceless Men operated - all except for you. Feelings were the only reason you were here. 

“A job well done, in my books. It may be foolish for a woman to believe in luck, and yet I find this face to be the ... a charm for me. And it has worked again.”  

“Who are you?” Jaqen asked, curiously. The two of you could do this all day. Coming up with backgrounds and names for the faces that you wore, weaving together a life that could be discarded and forgotten at any moment. That was the thrill of it. It was such a short time to be someone, before returning to being no one. 

“My name is Barrish Falwell,” you said, in a low and gravelly voice that matched the face. “I grew up in Gulltown, the son of a fisherman, and became a sailor meself, having my first fishing boat by the time I was thirteen. I found there was more money in transportin’ than in Fishing, so I made my livin by ferryin’ people to and fro, across the waters. I found me a wife, an’ I had two daughters, the most precious people in my life they’ll forever be - though they were drowned during a storm, and I had no more love for the sea. I gave up my vocation to become a soldier for the Lannisters, who I’ve chosen to give my loyalty to, as I have no love for the Starks or the Baratheon brothers. Joffrey is and should be the one true king by right, and it is only what’s right that keeps the world goin’ round. If I should die for them, I’ll be back with my family, and it will be the most noble way to die.” 

“What made Barrish so interested in the line of inheritance to the throne?” Jaqen asked, as if testing. I had an answer for everything, though. I paid close attention to my story. Details were my strong suit. 

“I once had the displeasure of ferrying Stannis across a short way. He paid me poorly for the pleasure. Did not even give a tip, not the flash of an extra coin. A man like that should not be in any sort of power. He’ll cheat all the common man. But not the Lannisters. No, it is in their motto. t’s only right that a boy raised with those values continue to sit on the throne. Bring the Seven Kingdoms to prosperity by payin’ everyone who is loyal to them.” 

“And you believe you’ll be paid for this?” 

“Aye, I do. A Lannister always pays his debts, so surely, I would be paid for my loyalty and hard work, no?” You said, your voice still gravelly. You sounded pathetically naive. You sounded like just the kind of man that a Lannister would let into his service willingly. And to give one of the shit jobs that no one cares about. There were more than enough men to watch over the castle, without having some slim ferryman like you around.  

“Hello, Barrish Falwell,” Jaqen said with a small smirk, leaning against the stone wall. “Do you miss your wife?” 

“Very much so, friend. She was the mos’ amazing woman that I’ve ever met. I was quite the lucky man to have her. Enith, her name was. The jewel of our town too, the prettiest pearl that ever lived. Aye, that she was.” 

“I once knew a woman like that myself,” Jaqen said, his eyes darting over your playfully.  

“An’ what happened to her?” You asked, your own shining brightly through the face that you were wearing. It was so unlike your own. Such masculine features to cover any feminine that you had. Even your body seemed to transform in the garb that you were wearing, in the way that you walked, your mannerisms, had all become that of a weary widowed man just trying to get through the day.  

“She became no one,” Jaqen said, a rare smile crossing his handsome face. His true face, on this occasion, was the one that you admired the most.  

“What a beautiful thing to happen,” you said. Though it wasn’t entirely the truth. To be truly no one - one must have no attachments, no past, no future. You had one attachment, and he was standing in front of you. To be attached to a man with no attachments - it was a torturous way to live. But you could not help yourself - you were not just a woman, but you were a woman in love.  

The sound of approaching footsteps, more like clanks in the armor, came to your attention and you and Jaqen both straightened up, faces serious, looking like men on duty. A soldier walked past with barely a look at the two of you. “It is dangerous for a woman to be here,” Jaqen said, that slight hint of joviality in his eyes gone. 

“It’s dangerous for anyone to be here, there’s a war,” you said, your own mouth in a straight line. “Why do you stick around so? There’s much work to be done back in Braavos. Prices are high during these dire times.” 

“A debt needs to be paid, and I must stay until it is done,” Jaqen said, and with those words, you knew that there was nothing that was going to get him to leave. 

“To the Red God?” You asked in a low tone. 

“To the Red God,” He affirmed. 

“A woman understands. If a debt is to be paid, then a debt is to be paid,” you said with a nod. “I will stay until your business is over.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, and moved in closer, his breath warm against your worn face. “Why does a woman choose to stay?” He asked you. “It is perilous, even for us. Faces - they cannot save us from this war.” 

“Death will come when it comes,” you said, shrugging that off. “A woman is no coward to it. But it is dangerous to travel alone in these times, so I shall wait for you. And then we shall set back together.” 

After a moment, he nods. “I can agree to this. Be careful - we are not the only ones who do not belong here. I will signal you when the debts are paid.” 

“Excellent,” you said, right as a feeling of cold goes through you, his breath removed, Jaqen gone down the hallway to attend to his duties - those of a Faceless man, and those of the soldier that he was pretending to be. You breathed out yourself, and then set off, one foot in front of the other, to a soldier’s patrol, blending in seamlessly. 

This face got you through the next while. No one suspected you of a thing, and not even the slightest about being an outsider here. You were never apart from this face, not when you slept among the rest of the men, not when you thought you were alone, not for a second. You lived and breathed being Barrish Falwell. You were flawless in this, truly becoming the man, moaning out his dead wife’s name in his sleep to the displeasure of the others around, taking part in the drinking of ale and having a preference for sitting close to the fire, and even talking dirty about women, making sickening jokes.  

Jaqen was never too far, his eyes either on you, or on a masquerading girl who poured wine for Tywin Lannister. It was a wonder to you that others did not see through her short hair and boyish face to the female beneath. It was she who had saved Jaqen, and thus owed the Red God three deaths, using Jaqen to get them. The Ticker - he was the first. You knew Jaqen’s handiwork, the body lying dead in the courtyard, under the windows. What a relief, you may finally get a night’s break from the screams. Ser Amory Lorch. It was not done with the usual grace, so it must have been under extreme haste. That set Tywin on guard who starts to order the assassination of many of his own men. Although Jaqen seemed safe, it seemed as if time was running out for you. You kept your head down, keeping to yourself, still giving off the appearance of a man who was too loyal to do this, too scared of Tywin to do something like this, too pathetic to kill someone of his own volition. But it felt as if eyes were ever on you. 

It would be only too easy to remove the guise of Barrish Falwell. To rid yourself of the face and slip on another, become someone else. But a newcomer now would only be under more suspicion. A woman had to be smart, smarter than any man in order to survive this. But you were running low on ideas. You had gotten the call - Tywin wished to see you and three other soldiers that night, after dinner.  

As you were thinking, silently having your stew and your ale, a slight nudge on your back told you everything that you needed to know. It was calculated. It was purposeful. It was the signal that something was to happen. Your eyes darted to the back of Jaqen as he walked through the tables to his own, sitting down with some of the other men. His own blue eyes looked back at you, and you turned back to your bowl.  

It would not be your death given to the Red God today. He would make sure of that.  

An escape plan had been forged. Jaqen had wordlessly met you after the sun had gone down, when you were meant to be making your way to Tywin. Instead of going to where you were supposed to be, you walked with Jaqen towards the gates, and silently dispatched the guards there. Killing was as easy to you as eating, as drinking water from a fresh stream. Blade through the flesh and move on. The Red God would be happy with your offering. Jaqen pinned them in place with their own spears to not arouse suspicion until the morning shift came around to relieve them, giving plenty of time to escape. You left with him in the hills, leaving Barrish behind. Your own skin was touched by the wind for the first time in days, a sigh of relief escaping from your lips. 

“So, a girl has given you your name?” You asked towards Jaqen as you walked away from the girl and her companions. “That is quite a cruel twist. A girl will go far in life.” 

Jaqen looked grumpy as he remembered the sound of his name coming out of the lips of Arya Stark. The girl had pushed him into doing more than he had intended to do. Killed more than the God had required. “I would have had to do it.” 

“I know, you’re a killer with honor,” you said, looking amused, nonetheless. “If such a thing exists, it is surely you.” 

Despite the heavy armor that you were stuck wearing - there was not much else that would protect you if you were to come across others on the road back to the Braavos - you were walking quickly, near skipping, energy in your stride. You held your hands behind you, walking a short distance ahead of Jaqen, turning your head to face him. His blue eyes looked at you and then down at the ground, and if you didn’t know better, you would almost think that he was blushing.  

“A man is,” He nodded, his eyes continuing to look down at the worn trail that you were taking. It was not a road; you were both avoiding those. Besides - the roads took too long, creating detours. “Has to be, when a girl lacks it.” 

“Has it left a bitter taste in your mouth?” You teased. 

“Like poison oak,” He stated.  

“And yet you have given her the coin, our codeword,” You reminded him. “I think that you secretly saw something in her. More of that poison oak that you could help grow, to spread towards targets.” 

“There was something there,” He admitted, more so to himself than to you. “A potential, yes. Sometimes it can be found in the most unlikely of places.” 

“It almost sounds as if a man has a heart,” you said, tilting your head towards him as you walked. 

“A man has never said that he hasn’t,” He retorted, making you smile. And making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like you were sitting by a fire after coming out of the rain. It felt as if he were flirting with you. Almost too good to be true. 

And when things are too good to be true - they usually were. Because all of a sudden, his arm shoved you away from him, hard, sending you falling onto the ground. Your head hits one of the rocks, causing your vision to grow fuzzy. You were struggling to hang onto it, to stay conscious. Your hand went to the back of your head and pulled away with crimson on your fingers. You had seen enough blood to know exactly what it was. And you had also caused enough head injuries to know that it wasn’t a good thing at all.  

Where you had been standing only seconds before, an arrow was sticking out of the ground. The feathers attached to it were red - The Lannisters. They had found their dead and sent trackers after the two of you. 

Jaqen managed to make quick work of them while you stayed low to the ground, putting pressure where the wound was despite the fact that it hurt. You were moaning, unable to keep it from coming out of you. The rising sun hurts your eyes, making you close them tightly. Clenching, more like. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked, returning to your side, using the name that you often used in your disguises. It was close to the name that you had been born with, but not close enough to bring back all of the bad memories.  

“Hit my head - on the rock -” you said, pointing towards the spot where your head had made contact. There was a bit of your blood there, oxidizing in the sunshine. It would be brown soon, rather than red, but still a sign that you had been there.  

“I - have pushed you too hard,” he said, using first-person speech. “I should have noticed -” 

“You still saved me,” you said, opening up one of your eyes to look at him. There was more concern in his expression than you had ever seen from him before. “I would have been shot with that arrow if you hadn’t pushed me.” 

“I do not owe the Red God your death,” Jaqen said, putting his arms under you and picking you up, armor and all. You winced at the movement, still holding your head. “I will not let him have it until the time is right.” 

“I feel a little dizzy, Jaqen,” you said, though that was an understatement. The world was spinning, and he was spinning too. You closed your eyes again to keep yourself from growing sick, though that didn’t help the vertigo. He managed to move as stealthily as ever, while keeping his stance solid. You weren’t being jostled around inside of his arms. And then, to your surprise, you found yourself lying on soft, sweet-smelling hay.  

You opened your eyes to see that you were somehow in a cart, and Jaqen was beside you. He had changed his clothes, into softer linens, no longer looking like a soldier. He pressed his finger to your lips, to stop you from speaking. 

“I cannot apologize enough,” he said, looking deep into your eyes. “I never meant to hurt you. Never you.” 

“Ja-” You started, but he pressed his finger a little rougher against your lips, stopping you. 

“Seeing you hurt - it makes me ... it makes me want to rage against the Red God, for even attempting to take you. It is blasphemy, but I cannot help myself. I cannot help myself. Not a man-”  

He looked out the back of the cart, at the road that you were on. You didn’t question whose cart you were in, or who was driving, where you were going, how Jaqen had convinced them to let you both on. All of those details were unimportant. All you could focus on, or tried to focus on as the world was spinning, were his eyes.  

“I do not know when I became I - but it is because of you,” he said, his voice softer than anything that you had ever heard before. Like velvet. You could feel it like a texture over your skin. “A man has become ... a man who loves you.” 

Your breath caught in your throat - if you even had any breath left. It felt like it had been pushed out of your lungs, and then all of a sudden, bellowed back in, making you breathe in deeply. A look of concern came over his face and he lightly started to look over your wound again, moving the hay beneath you to get a better view.  

“It’s okay - I’m okay,” You tried to convince him, reaching up to his arm to stop him from touching the wound, from poking around it. That wasn’t your focus either. “Who are you now, tell me again.” 

“A man in love,” he said, more resolutely this time, like he believed it rather than realized it. 

“Ask me,” you said, weakly. His eyebrow raised at you and so you nodded at him slightly, trying to get him to do the same.  

“Who are you?” He asked, in the exact same tone that he had when he asked you in the castle days ago. You had given him all the details of a false identity back then. A fake name. A fake life. A fake dead wife and children. But what you were going to say now was going to be the truth, the whole truth. 

“A woman in love.” You answered him. 

His coarse fingers skimmed over your forehead, caressing it in a way he made sure was nowhere near the wound on your head. And then he lowered himself down and kissed it, his lips chapped and dry but felt wonderful, nonetheless.  

“We could be somebodies,” You whispered, feeling the energy draining out of you. “When I wake up - we could be somebodies together.” 

“I would enjoy that,” he said, his own voice softer than touch. “When you wake up.” 

“When I ... wake up...” You said again, before everything went black. 

[a-libra-writes]

I'm so glad you're still writing, so many people have left tumblr, I thought you'd leave too 😭. I really love your writing and have been reading your old ASOIAF fics for a while now because you're one of the few people who write for Jaqen and Petyr. Anyway, I was hoping you could write some hc's for a reader who seams stoic and emotionless at first, but gets incredibly flustered in their presence with Petyr, Jaqen, Tywin, Roose, Jaime and Tyrion (My issues are showing with my selection, I know 😅).

Oh i wouldnt perma leave without saying anything; I just take lotsa breaks bc life! Aight here's your peeps.

No warnings except reader is married (therefore femme) in some. Also we know how SOME of these men are lol.

Petyr - You know what they say about blood in the water...

Everyone has their weaknesses, and Petyr is delighted to find out that your's is him. He pretends not to notice at first, then purposefully uses words and light touches and flattery to just further embarrass you... all the while acting clueless about why you're sputtering.

Jaqen - It's charming to see that side of you. People always have quirks like that, and he enjoys finding them.

It amuses the unusual man, and sometimes he'll tease you by disguising as someone else then surprising you with the face you like best. He hopes you aren't like this around anyone else, half because he worries about them taking advantage of it, half because he likes having this different side of you to himself.

Tywin - A sign of weakness, perhaps. At least, he sees it differently depending on your relationship.

If you both aren't close, he just writes it off as a "weakness" and perhaps something to take advantage of in the future. If you're both actually married and he, you know ... cares, then it's more amusing. He's glad you don't show your hand so easily to others, and has more than a little pride knowing that he's the reason you act this way.

Roose - Really, this is nothng short of a small, petty victory to him. He noticed the way you acted immediately, though pretended not to.

There would subtle actions and 'accidental' touches and chance meetings, perhaps to keep you on your toes ... perhaps just for his own amusement. If you two were married, he would relish in your flustering quite a bit. He likes to wait until the right moment, like when you're speaking to someone or in front of others, to come up quietly and try to surprise you, just to see how your face and voice changes.

Jaime - It probably takes a bit to figure out, but when he finally does, he's so smug about it.

Jaime is like an immature boy bothering a girl he likes, he figures out he's your 'weakness' and likes to tease you endlessly about it. He wouldn't admit it, but the way you talk and act to others is a bit ... unnerving to him, so he prefers this - you're wearing your emotions on your face, and there's no lying or manipulations. It ends up endearing him to you more than he'll admit.

Tyrion - Initially, he thought your strange reaction was you being bothered by him somehow...

You weren't like this with others, not that he'd seen, anyway - and most were disgusted by and mistrusting of him, but ... this isn't quite the same. Tyrion began to pay extra attention to how he talked and acted toward you, and began to think .. No, it can't be. There's no way you were actually flustered by him. You, a lady who was known for keeping herself together and tight-laced. Even as the evidence ramps up, and others can see it, he has trouble believing it.

[arsenic-catnep]

Jaqen H’ghar brat taming you HCs!!! 🙏🏻😭

Jaqen H'ghar x GN!Reader NSFW Headcanons

TW: spanking, humiliation

Jaqen hates when his lover acts up.

He went through excruciating training sessions with them that had the poor thing in tears.

Of course they do have attitude every now and then, and he must show them their place again.

He'd give them a look, and they just know that they're in trouble later.

When he has then alone he knocks them to the floor, telling them to strip.

Opening the closet and revealing several whips, crops, and canes.

He picks out a long thin cane and turns to them.

They're sat on the floor with their arms crossed, an obvious pout on their face.

Jaqen paces towards them, and then smacks the cane against their thigh. The yelp they let out sends tingles down his spine.

He orders them on their hands and knees, ass in the air and face pressed to the floor.

If they need help, he's happy to oblige. Grabbing them with ease and bending them to his will.

He teases them with the cane, rubbing it along the curve of their ass. The crack from the sudden impact sears through the room.

His poor pet winces and cries out. He doesn't feel bad though, they did this to themselves.

He doesn't stop smacking them with the cane until their ass is red, swollen and bruised.

Jaqen hopes this will keep them at bay for a little while. It's so tiring when they act up.

[urdeftonesgrrrl]

"A girl must say a name."

Me:

Team Black stans

Criston Cole haters

Daemon Targaryen stans

[novaursa]

Hi! Could I please request more for Jaqen H’ghar x reader, either a sequel to what you wrote if you’re open to doing that but if not then just anything with him in it. I’d never really considered reading stuff about him before but you honestly had me hooked with the fic you’ve made for him and I would just love love love some more if possible, thank you so much!

The Game of Faces (name)

Requests are closed!

- Summary: You meet your sister’s “friend” and he offers his help, for a price.

- Paring: stark!reader/Jaqen H'ghar

- Rating: Mature 16+ (jus to be safe)

- Previous part: 1

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The nights in Harrenhal seem longer than the days, each hour stretching into the next as if time itself is trapped within the cursed walls. The weight of Jaqen’s words still hangs heavy in your mind, as though each passing moment presses you closer to the inevitable. Arya is asleep beside you, curled against your side in the straw bed, her small form breathing steadily. But you cannot sleep, not with the decision that gnaws at your soul.

A name. That is all he needs.

You sit up slowly, careful not to wake Arya. She has seen too much already, and you want to shield her from this—whatever this is that Jaqen H’ghar has pulled you into. Quietly, you slip out of the bedding and make your way through the dim hallways, your footsteps echoing softly against the cold stone floors.

When you find him, Jaqen is standing near the kitchen fires, his silhouette lit by the flickering orange glow. His back is turned to you, yet you know he senses your approach. He always does.

“A girl comes,” he says without turning, his voice smooth and soft, as if he had been waiting for you.

You stand there for a moment, the heat from the fire warming your face as you try to gather your thoughts, your courage. “I have a name,” you whisper, your voice trembling more than you’d like.

Jaqen turns to you then, his mismatched eyes meeting yours, and for a heartbeat, you feel as though the world falls away. There is only him and the promise hanging between you.

“A name will bring death,” he says, his tone as soft as ever, though there is something sharp beneath it. “But it will bring freedom too.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You know what you are doing, and yet, the weight of it is heavier than you imagined. You think of Arya, of the prisoners, of the suffering that has stained this place. And then you think of the man who keeps you all bound here.

“The Tickler,” you say, your voice steady despite the fear clawing at your insides.

Jaqen's eyes gleam in the firelight, and his lips curve into that familiar, enigmatic smile. He inclines his head ever so slightly, as if acknowledging the choice you’ve made. “It is done.”

You feel the air shift around you, as though a part of the world just turned on a dark hinge you cannot see. Jaqen steps away from the fire, his movements graceful as ever. “A girl will see.”

Before you can ask what he means, he is gone, his figure swallowed by the shadows.

The next day, chaos erupts. Word spreads quickly that the Tickler is dead, his body found in the night with no sign of a struggle, no clue as to how he met his end. The Lannister soldiers are in disarray, scrambling to keep control of the prisoners, but it is clear that the balance of power has shifted.

Amid the confusion, Arya tugs at your sleeve. “Now,” she whispers, her eyes bright with urgency. “We have to go now.”

You don’t hesitate. With your heart racing, you and Arya slip through the chaos, blending into the mass of bodies and movement. The guards are distracted, too occupied with the growing disorder to notice two prisoners slipping away. You follow Arya, your mind whirling with the thought of escape, of freedom, of the promise Jaqen made to you.

As you near the outer gates, you feel a hand close around your arm. You turn, startled, only to find Jaqen standing there, his grip firm but not painful. His eyes lock onto yours, intense and unreadable.

“A man honors his promise,” he says quietly, his voice cutting through the noise of the surrounding commotion. “A girl is free now. But a girl must follow.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as his words sink in. Follow him? Away from Arya? You glance back at your sister, who is darting through the gates with the prisoners, her small form disappearing into the crowd. For a moment, panic grips you—how can you leave her? But then, you remember Arya’s strength, the steel in her eyes, the fire that burns in her heart. She will be fine. She has to be fine.

Jaqen’s hand on your arm pulls your attention back to him. His face is calm, his gaze unwavering. “In the chaos, a girl will be safe. But if a girl stays, death will follow.”

The weight of your promise presses against you. You gave him your word, and he fulfilled his part of the bargain. Now it is time for you to honor yours.

“A girl must obey,” Jaqen says, his voice soft but firm, as though reminding you of a vow already made. And in that moment, you realize there is no turning back.

You nod, your throat tight with emotion. “I will follow.”

Jaqen releases your arm and steps back, his gaze lingering on you for just a heartbeat longer before he turns and walks away, his pace measured, deliberate. You hesitate for only a moment before you take a deep breath and move after him, your steps quickening to match his.

As you leave Harrenhal behind, the sounds of the castle fading into the distance, you glance back one last time. Arya is gone from sight, but you know she will survive. She has always been a survivor, just like you.

Jaqen’s figure leads the way, silent and sure, and you follow without question, stepping into the unknown.

[starjones-on-ao3]

I'm looking for more Jaqen x Arya or Jaqen x Reader to read but there is too many to choose from on AO3! Please send recommendations!

I must have read all or most of what @ewinofthelake and @han_shot_first have written already 💓💓💓

[demoncryptspanties]

Dorne Chapter 5

A/N: I'm not even sure why this took so long to get out. I have no concept of time or anything tbh but I'm not dead so that's great.

Pairings: Oberyn Martell x Female!Reader, Jaqen Hagar x Female!Reader, (Future!Ellaria Sand x Female!reader, Future!Sandor Clegane x female!Reader, Future!Tywin Lannister x Female!Reader)

Warnings: Bad spelling, violence, bad grammar, smut.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

Word Count: 6649

Chapter 5

Secret secrets

The servants seemed to have vanished for whatever reason, and her brother and father appeared to be missing once more. She didn't want to sit in her thoughts and spiral without the facts, so she took one of the Dothraki children's stories, a translated dictionary, and a journal to sit in the garden. Her plans to educate herself were short-lived, as she instead went to look at the clouds and fell asleep under the morning sun.

Around midday, a shadow fell over her. She shifted her gaze away from the sun to allow her eyes to adjust, then up at the figure, patiently waiting for her to fully awaken.

“I was starting to believe that you no longer had an interest in me.” She looked up into his bright blue eyes with a frown. 

"That, my dear, would be impossible.” She sat up to accommodate him, taking note of the small box in his hand but feigning a lack of interest. He sat to her left, holding out a hand, which she ignored, but was still staring right at her. “You command my full attention. How am I supposed to think about the duties I have when in your presence?” 

She softened at his words, “There will come a day where your flattery won’t work.”

“And clearly that day is not today.”

She chuckled, unconsciously leaning into him, glancing discreetly at the box. He caught her gaze and smiled to himself.

“A gift for my lady.” He presented the box to her, simple and made from wood. There was no extravagant and detailed engraving, only the clear hand of an amateur wood carver. 

She took the box from him slowly, twisting it in her hand before slowly sliding open the top panel. There was a simple ring inside, cushioned by what appeared to be silk. The ring was silver and in the shape of a sun. There was a shallow engraving of a snake in the middle of the sun,  but aside from that, the band was plain. 

“It is truly beautiful, Jaquen.”

“Consider it a promise as well as a representation of a formal question.” He said while she put the ring on the middle finger of her left hand. 

“What promise?”

He let out a small hum, looking at the deep smile on her face before answering. "A promise that whenever I see or feel the sun, I will think of you, and, of course, this is me formally asking you to be my life partner and wife."

“Have you spoken to my father?”

“I will ask your permission first. It is a union; of course, I want you to be willing.” She put the box, which was still in her left hand, on her lap and turned to face him. His eyes were wide and his smile soft. There was a certain type of vulnerability that she hadn’t seen on anyone before. 

"The only answer is yes," she took his hand in hers, closing her palms around his larger ones while maintaining eye contact. Take me to your home and show me your culture, freedom, and world. I am and will always be wanting and willing."

He let out a quick sigh, smiling and looking away from her. He muttered something under his breath, but it didn’t appear to be the common language. He cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers.

The lady jerked backwards slightly before leaning into him. She put a hand on his shoulder and caressed the back of his head with her other hand, tangling it in his hair. He pulled her toward him. They were so close, she thought she could hear his heart beating in time with hers. 

She pulled back slightly and hiked her dress up so that she could straddle his thighs. She pulled him again into a searing kiss, her hands braced on his shoulders. He leaned back a little too far and lost his balance, falling onto the soft grass. She giggled and gave him a soft peck, rolling off of him and looking up at the clouds. 

“Please, tell me about your travels. Tell me what you have already told me and what you have not.” She looked at him with a genuine interest, head cocked to the side, watching his lips with a small smile. 

“In due time, my love. Let me first ask you how your time was spent here without me.”

She sighed and shifted her gaze away from him, not quite in annoyance, but close. “Oberyn is to have another child.”

“Congratulations, he already has one?” The smile that had vanished so easily returned. 

“Two, this will be his third. I think a girl, yet again. I believe that man is incapable of producing boys.”

“And how do you feel?” His words were slow, and his eyes held a kindness that lacked the judgement of a normal man. 

"Of course I'm delighted; this is a new beginning for both him and me. I hope we can settle easily into this new dynamic.” She hoped to convey how much she meant that, but he watched so carefully that she was sure he saw the slight twitch in her smile. She trusted that he would see that as nervousness and not irritation. 

He made a note to himself to ask her again at another time and opted to change the subject instead, “You don’t think it is too soon?”

“Too soon?” She sat up on her left elbow and waited for him to laugh, though when he did not, she giggled and leaned into him, saying, "If my father was to have any say, we would have been formally engaged after our second meeting. Things that are right, that are fate, never come too soon; they only come when the time is just right."

“It sounds like there is much to be learned about your customs, and I look forward to discovering every part that is important to you.” 

She beamed down at him, not noticing how close she had ended up to him, not noting the way his eyes travelled to her lips, and definitely not feeling the light touch of his left hand tracing soft circles on her hip. The only thing she could concentrate on was the promise of his previous words, the pledge to always make an effort with her. She was unsure of what it was about the notion of something so basic that caused her to become lost in images of their future, her eyes fixed on the sea blue hue of his in the waning sun. 

He recognised the look in her eyes—the undercurrent of lust that she, herself, likely did not notice. “My love, the nights these days are cold, I wish for you not to become ill.”

“Jaqen, do you not want me?”

“Is my ring not proof enough?”

"No, but do you not want me?” 

He thought about teasing her with his faux ignorance of her feelings for a little longer, but decided against it. “I only want you; I will only ever want you, but I wish not to disrespect you until I’ve spoken to your father.”

“You will not be disrespecting me. We are not like the others in this kingdom, and I will not be tainted. It is not improper.”

“It would be improper of me not to talk to your father before we join our energies and spirits.” She conceded at that, nodding slowly but still bending down further so that her lips ghosted him.

He closed the distance and kissed her softly, letting their mouths move in languid and quiet motions, pulling her so that she was completely atop him. He let his hands wander conservatively, caressing the small of her back but stopping just before meeting her ass. She let her tongue run across his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth to accommodate her. A hand snaked up to the nape of her neck, and before she knew it, their positions were reversed, Jaqen trapping her on the ground. His lips swallowed her gasp, and his hair tickled her cheeks.

He jerked away, sitting up with his legs on either side of her. He was breathing hard but still took both his hands to the side of her face to kiss her again. She couldn't place the emotion in that kiss—not quite lust but also a certain type of desperation. He once again pulled away and leaned over her, tucking his hair behind his ears. 

“I fear I cannot kiss you any longer. You truly are intoxicating.” She looked up at him with a soft smile, running a finger over her bottom lip. His eyes followed the movement, and his thumb traced her actions. She puckered her lips, but his thumb had left them, instead tracing her jaw gently. 

“Cannot or will not?” He smiled at this, standing up and putting a hand out for her.

“You are a little vixen.” 

She took his hand, pulling herself up a smidge too hard and stumbling into him. “And I fear that you love me for it.”

“That I do.” She couldn't stop herself from leaning into his arm, hiding her face slightly. There was a childlike giddiness in her smile and step, though she could not tell whether he noticed that or not.

She walked through the back doors of her home, scanning the somewhat empty rooms as she led Jaqen to the front door. Her movements slowed, and she peered into one of the corridors that led to the kitchen. The sound of her brother's steps was burned into her memory, and she laughed to herself, pulling Jaqen in that direction instead. 

The kitchen doors were wide open, and the smell the space elicited was almost sickly sweet. “Aneera I think I burned it. I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that.”

“Aneera spun around, putting the rolling pin in her hand down. She winked at the two by the door and walked over to the fire that Oran was standing over. “It's not supposed to smell like that either. I turned around for less than a minute. How did you manage to burn it?”

Y/N gently tugged Jaqen towards the pastry on the table, putting her hands in a bowl of water near it to wash them. “What are we making, Aneera?”

Oran waved without looking at the sound of her voice and grumbled something under his breath. “They were supposed to be pastries, but this is the second time I've burnt the filling, so I’m not entirely sure they’ll have a centre." 

“They’ll be fine. Roll out the dough for me, my dear.” Aneera left the lady to her task and turned to Jaqen, who was watching with a smile, and said, “it is magnificent to finally meet you properly. You are just as handsome as I thought you would be.” 

"Aneera, please,” the lady said, smiling at the light pink tint on Jaqen’s cheeks. 

"I truly wish I could stay and talk to you properly, but I have somewhere to be," he said shyly, bowing his head slightly.

“I know, we have plenty of time to get to know each other properly. And you have plenty of time to practise your wood carving.”

Y/N immediately looked up at the box, which she had left on the far side of the table. “You carved it by hand and didn’t tell me?”

“I forgot; we were occupied with other things.”

"You're disgusting, in the garden, seriously," Oran whirled around, looking between the two lovers.”

“We didn’t do anything, Oran, stop being such a prude.” The siblings traded a look, which made both Jaqen and Aneera chuckle.

Jaqen walked up to the lady, putting his hands softly on her shoulders and  placing a tender kiss on the top of her head. “I am working tomorrow, but you are welcome to come for lunch.”

“I’ll bring some of the desserts if Oran does not burn them all.”

Oran grumbled something under his breath, and though nobody heard his exact words, everyone let out an easy laugh. Jaqen gave her another kiss and walked out of the room, showing himself out. After a minute, Y/N finally spoke up.

“Aneera, will I have children?” Her eyes were glued to her mother, and thus she missed the slight look of concern on Oran’s face. 

Aneera had a smile that became larger and larger until she was laughing to herself. “You, my child, are one of the most fertile women in all of the seven kingdoms. You should be happy about the divine timing of the Gods because you will never have any trouble in that regard.”

The lady's smile came back as quickly as it had left, and she continued to roll out the dough. “Aneera, your feelings for my father are so clear, why do you deny yourself that happiness?”

“I have never seen my own future, nor do I want to. It is the only area about which I am unsure; I guess you could say that I am afraid of the unknown.”

“You should take that leap. Since love is so unpredictable anyway, I guess for once you will be experiencing what the rest of us do. It is too beautiful and too brilliant a thing to deny yourself just because of fear.” Y/N looked at him with a slight surprise but let out a hum of agreement.

“At the very least, move into our home; you practically live here anyway.” Aneera thanked the two of them for their wise words but said nothing more on the subject. 

“I think that the filling is done.” Aneera rushed over to Oran, looking over the pan, and patted his back lightly. 

“I believe it is indeed.”

By the time that there were enough desserts made and packed for the servants and maids, the moon was high in the sky. Aneera retired into her room at the back of the house, leaving Oran and Y/N in the kitchen.

“Have you any plans tomorrow after your morning class?”

“No, why?” She looked into his eyes for any sign of mischief, but there was none. 

“Ayenna is free, and I am busy all day. Perhaps you could deliver these to her and spend the day with her because I remember the last time the day was cut short."

“Of course, Oran.” He smiled, nodding his head slowly. He got up, pulling the lady into a hug, and put the packaged desserts in her lap so that she would not forget. 

The lady studied the wooden box that Jaqen had given her while lying in bed. She hadn't noticed the shallow dips from where he probably tried to carve something but decided against it. She imagined the way he measured the lid and sanded down the sides. She wondered whether there was a reason he had chosen that wood, and that material for the interior. From what she knew of him, everything he did was intentional and calculated. She'd have to ask him about it the following day.  

The next day, she rode quickly after Oran told her that Ayenna wanted to meet her at the bakery. She didn't need an excuse to smell the freshly baked bread and pastries, and she was glad they could spend some time eating at one of her favourite restaurants in King's Landing. 

Ayenna wore a scarf in her hair, likely to keep her hair out of the food. Her brow had a hint of sweat on it, but she seemed calm rather than frazzled. The minute she noticed the lady watching her, a magnificent smile graced her face. 

“Y/N, I made some honeyed bread fresh for you.”

“Ayenna, I pray to the Gods that you stay in our family forever if you continue to spoil me like this.” Y/N swiped the bread from the counter, taking a generous bite. It was still warm and soft, with just the right amount of sweetness to make it seem unbelievably light.

“Did you make this? It tastes different than usual.” She said, tearing off another liberal piece. 

"Oh, if it's not to your taste, I’ll use the original recipe.” 

The lady shook her head in response, trying to finish the piece in her mouth before she began speaking. “No, no, it’s wonderful. Whatever you did, please keep doing it.” 

She thought that Ayenna’s smile could not get wider, but it did and she nodded shyly to herself. The lady finished her meal with a glass of honeyed wine, asking questions about the baking process and the shop itself, as Ayenna shaped dough and pastries with a delicate hand. 

The lady turned at the light footsteps that entered the cafe and saw the familiar face of Ayenna’s mother. “Ah Maliya, your daughter makes the absolute best honey bread.”

“My lady, that is precisely why I am happy it is her rather than her sister who will take over this place.” Maliya’s face revealed a slight frown. She turned to her daughter and opened her mouth to say something more, but decided against it, instead choosing to grumble to herself. 

“I have yet to meet this elusive sister.”

“She was sick the last time we met, and she remains just as evasive to us. That woman is hopeless, truly. The only person who can ever catch her is Ayenna here.”

Ayenna said nothing, instead finishing the batch of food she was cooking before taking off her apron. She whispered something to her mother and excitedly led the lady out of the door. “Is there somewhere specific you wish to go, or shall we wander around the streets of Dorne.”

“I have been meaning to go to the market again. There is something I wish to inquire about.” She began unlacing her horse, but Ayenna stopped her with a gentle hand to the shoulder.

“Oh, is it possible that we do something else today? There is someone I wish to avoid.”

“A jealous past lover.” The lady said with a smile. 

Ayenna smiled politely in return and said, "Something like that.”

“Perhaps a walk then? Down one of the rivers? We can stop by the grape brothel so that I may drop off these desserts to Jaqen. Oh, I forgot to tell you about yours. I left them on the counter.”

“That is fine, my mother would have noticed them, and of course, a walk sounds lovely. It would give us time to talk.” Ayenna was wringing her hands together, fiddling with one of the many rings that adorned her fingers. 

The lady turned to her in an attempt to catch her eye. "Is there something in particular that you wanted to talk about?” 

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to tell you since we met, although I wanted you to get to know me first.” The lady still kept a soft smile on her face, there was no hostility or anger within Ayenna that she could tell and thus she felt as though whatever the problem may be, it would be something that was easily fixed. 

“In your own time, Ayenna.” 

Ayenna bowed her head graciously and let a cheeky smile engulf her features. “Though you seemed extremely cheery this morning.”

The lady took a minute to answer, eventually nodding to herself and saying, “If I tell you, you mustn't say anything to my brother just yet.”

“My lady, I wouldn't dare now, please; I am dying to know.”

“I am formally engaged now. Jaqen designed the ring and carved the box himself; I could not have asked for a better partner than him, and now I am truly to be married." Once the words started flowing out of her mouth, she could not stop. Remembering to hold her gesticulations as her teachers had taught her, she let her excitement show through her smile and tone.

“Well, I never doubted that for a second”

“Yes, well, as much as it feels like I have known you forever, we only met a few moons ago. I never imagined myself in this position or feeling this content. Of course, my mother is well known as an oracle throughout Dorne, and yet I couldn't bring myself to believe her after I fell in love with Oberyn, but this just feels so deeply right; I finally know the direction my life is taking, and I can hope and dream and imagine a different type of happiness."

“That is truly beautiful, my lady, and I am so glad that you feel this way,” Ayenna’s features were soft, not quite displaying the same enthusiasm but still polite and happy.

The lady had not noticed how close they were to the brothel until the women in sheer purple walked towards them in the street. The lady practically ran, with Ayenna chasing reluctantly behind her, and walked into the brothel. The lady gently refused the services of the women she knew and asked where Jaqen was. 

The two were led by a woman, whom the lady did not recognise, into a small office at the back of the building. One would think that Jaqen had wished to keep his business and pleasure separate, but the sheer curtains that led into a room with a plush bed said otherwise. 

The lady shared a look with Ayenna before motioning to the seat at the desk. Ayenna sat down while Y/N looked around the room. It was mostly barren; he clearly didn't spend much time here, and she felt that there were little secrets in this place waiting to be discovered. 

Jaqen walked through the door with a slight flourish, a smile on his face as he made his way to the lady, not pausing to acknowledge Ayenna. He gathered her in his arms and gave her a long kiss before the lady pushed him off, motioning vaguely towards Ayenna. 

“I apologise, my love. We are only here to drop these off.”

“Will you not enjoy them with me?”

“Not this time; I wish to talk to my sister, and I wanted to run this errand first.” Y/N missed the small smile that graced Ayenna’s face. She sat uncomfortably in the seat as though she were waiting for Jaqen to throw her out of it. 

“Is that all I am to you? An errand.” He said slyly, laying a hand lightly on the woman's chin to tilt her head towards him.

"Yes, an errand that I am quite finished with for the moment.”

He scoffed and let her chin go, looking at her with his head tilted and saying, “I shall miss your company until we next meet.”

“No need for the dramatics; you will be waking up next to me every day until we die as soon as we marry.”

“And that will not happen soon enough.” Neither woman could hide the smile at his words, albeit for different reasons. 

Ayenna stood up, drawing attention to herself, and began to leave the room when Jaqen called out, "Ayenna, is it? Sorry, but you look strangely familiar, though I'm almost certain we've never met."

“I have been told I have that sort of face that you see constantly in a crowd. I can assure you, my lord, that we have never met.”

Jaqen's disgust was obvious, and his change in expression made the lady laugh heartily. “Please, I am no lord; I am just a commoner like you, a merchant and traveller. Please do not address me with formalities that are inappropriate for my position."

"You heard him, Ayenna; he is but a traveller," she gestured for Ayenna to leave the room and moved to follow her, Jaqen taking steps in time with her and sliding his arms around her middle. “If the traveller is ever weary enough to warrant a certain type of relaxation, he knows where to go,” she whispered into his ear, kissing his jaw lightly. 

She attempted to slide out of his arms, but he only held on to her tighter, waiting until Ayenna turned back to the two and then moved so that she would leave the brothel. “Must you truly leave now?”

“You are acting as though I am going on a long journey away from you. I will see you soon.”

“It will not be soon enough.”

“You truly have a way with words, my love.”

“And I will make an effort to make you feel this way with them until the end of my days.” He pecked her lips and walked back into his office, allowing the lady to leave the premises. 

She was still in clear sight of the brothel when Jaqen called out to her, “I am taking you for the evening. Be ready by dusk, I’ll pick you up from home.” The lady nodded to convey that she had heard and went on walking with a smile on her face.

“He truly seems obsessed with you.” Ayenna said, walking in time with the lady.

“I suppose, in the way that my brother is with you, correct?”

Ayenna smiled to herself but looked down towards the ground. “He loves differently, but I suppose yes, in his own way he is indeed.”

“Have you met Jaqen? He is not one to forget a face.” Ayenna looked directly at the lady with her response. 

"No, I have not; I truly believe that I must look like someone else that he knows.” The lady looked for any sign that Ayenna was lying but hummed to herself when her face was as honest as she would have expected. 

The two walked across one of the canals, talking about the men in their lives, until the sun was at a point where the lady needed to be home to be ready. Ayenna said that she would walk the lady home so that she could talk to Oran. The lady took this as a chance to ask what she really wanted, as Ayenna would have little time to skirt around the subject before they got to the house.

“Your sister, why is it that I have yet to meet her.”

“I didn’t want to take the chance that you knew each other. I just wanted us to be secure in our relationship first to decrease any possible awkwardness. I hope that she will be less busy soon so that I may properly introduce you to her.”

“Your sister, what is her name?”

Ayenna hesitated, which the lady caught, and she said her name under her breath. The lady hummed to convey she had not heard the woman, and Ayenna said again, louder this time, “Alaiana.” 

The lady searched her mind for recognition in the sound of the name, but there was none. She figured she'd have to talk to Mara at some point to see if she knew who this Alaiana girl was. 

“Sorry to ask so many questions, but you have wanted to tell me something for so long. I fear that if I don’t push for it now, we will never get to the bottom of this matter.”

“Honestly, it was about my sister. I believe it would be better for you to meet her first and then you will know.”

“I had a feeling.” 

“You are known to be something of an oracle or soothsayer. Some say your family is descended from Gods.”

“Do you believe that?”

“If I believed that, I would not be keeping secrets from you like this.” Ayenna smiled nervously, hoping that the lady would understand her tone and how she meant her words. She let out a small sigh of relief when Y/N laughed heartily. 

Oran seemed to get back from whatever he was doing all day at the same time the women did. He rode onto the grounds with a small entourage of people the woman did not recognise but did not question, letting dust and sand gather in the air.

“Oran, do you wish to ruin all of my clothes with your foolery?”

One of the men with Oran laughed and then bowed his head politely at her, saying, “my lady, he was simply losing a race.”

“I won actually,” the other men all grumbled in disagreement as Oran laughed. He lowered himself from his horse and pulled Ayenna into a passionate embrace. 

“I believe I will leave you and your friends to whatever it is you wish to be doing and take my leave.”

"Bye, my lady,” Ayenna said with a grin, and the rest of the men echoed a similar response. 

She walked the winding staircase into her room and flung open the wardrobe to look at the evening dresses she had yet to wear. She called in one of the maids to help her look, and the two discussed what would be good for an evening that you could not prepare for. 

They chose a simple silver gown, which they paired with silver bodice jewellery, the stones Jaqen had gotten her, and a massive gem of a necklace that Oberyn had insisted she own the moment he saw it. The woman looked into the glass on her far wall and decided she reminded herself of the moon. She walked to her balcony to relish the colour of the sun in the clouds. It made her wonder, how those who believe in the Lord of Light, must have looked at the sun and seen its power. She decided it was most likely dusk by now and pulled one of the shorter books that she had yet to finish and read. 

Her immersion in the world provided by the pages, however, was brief, as a servant quickly knocked on the door, saying that her visitor had been accosted by the group of men with her brother. 

She practically ran down the stairs, not being too careful with her steps, and stopped short of the last step right in front of her betrothed. 

“Hi,”

“Hello dearest.” He extended his arms and drew her into a hug off the steps. Neither of them noticed the look that her brother was giving them from behind one of his friends. 

“Stay safe sister.”

“I can handle myself, brother.”

Jaqen held out an arm and led her to his horse, gesturing her to the brown stallion she had seen before but had no name for. “Your horse has a name yes,”

“If he does, I do not know it, when he learns to speak, that will be the first question I ask,” she hit his arm playfully and mounted the horse.

Jaqen sat behind her, speeding the horse through the dirt roads and lush fields. They seemed to go completely out of the city, and the lady just let the wind in her hair lull her into a sense of peace. She would have spoken but was sure he would not be able to hear her, so she leaned back into him, caressing one of his hands that were on the reins, and smiling up at him as gracefully as she could at that angle.

The journey seemed brief, but she was unfamiliar with her surroundings. They were in a clearing, and there were hedges by a river that made the area seem isolated and private, as if it were their own private garden. He'd laid out a large piece of cloth for her to sit on, along with a basket of fruits and two bottles of Dornish wine. The area was lit up with candles, and the basket held a bouquet of flowers. 

He got off the horse first and then helped her down with strong arms. 

“Jaqen, this place is beautiful; where did you find it? Who set it up for you?” The smile on her face was unmatched, and she had to stop herself from gasping every time she took in a new detail. The entire area seemed as though it had come from a dream, and she realised that this was exactly how she was supposed to feel whenever she was around him. 

“I had a few conversations with your brother; he said that he had travelled the area around your home and found it accidentally.” He led her to the cloth on the floor and sat across from her, pouring wine for both of them into silver goblets that were also in the basket. 

"I was so taken with your beauty when I first saw you that I didn't tell you how lovely you are. I cannot wait to see you reflected in the moonlight.”

“You flatter me in a way I am not entirely sure I deserve. You are a God among men, a lover from the legends."

“Must you try to one-up me even in compliments, dearest?”

“I wish to see your cheeks redden and lips pull into a smile as often as I can, Jaqen.”

“You do that simply by existing; I need no flattery from you.”

“And you're complaining about my flattery. By the Gods, Jaqen, I feel as though you wish for me to collapse.” The two laughed heartily, and she began to lay out the fruits but squealed when she saw what was under them. There was a selection of cheeses, some of which she had not seen before. They were a delicacy she was somewhat used to, but Dorne only had so many types, and she was certain she had read about one of them that was from Highgarden, judging by its shape.

“Is everything alright?” He had taken in her expression but misread it, leading to a look of concern.  

“Is this cheese from Highgarden?”

“Yes..” He was unprepared for the force she used to propel herself towards him. She wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around his shoulders as he stumbled back into the grass behind them, taken aback by the gesture. “If I knew something as simple as cheese would have made you act this way, I would not have spent this time courting you.”

“Jaqen, I have hardly known you for a time normal enough to result in a proposal.”

“We, dearest, are not normal people, and thus there is no reason that we should behave as though we are.” She leaned into him, giving him a soft peck, before sitting up and immediately beginning to gorge herself on the foods that he had brought. 

“So tell me, Jaqen, about your travels, and do not leave out a single detail.”

"We'll be here for a long time then," he said softly.

“And I will cherish every moment that I get to be with you.”

By the time she noticed that time had actually passed, the food was mostly gone and the stars were high in the sky. They had moved so that Jaqen lay in her lap; his white hair shone as she would have imagined snow to, and his red waves seemed the colour of blood. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, twirling the ends. 

She looked up at the sky and pointed upwards, “would you like to hear a story, my love.”

“I would like anything as long as it comes from your lips.” She cleared her throat and attempted to hide the smile but by the look in his eyes she knew she didn't well enough. 

“It’s a love story about the north star.”

“Are those not the best kind?”

“The north star is the brightest star in the sky,”

“Yes,” she stopped at the sound of his voice and raised an eyebrow. He put his hands up and laughed to himself.

“It guides us home, and that is all because of a sailor who loved harder than any person thought capable. His wife was a barmaid at a seaside tavern, which is how they met. One time, just before he left, she asked him how he always found his way back to her on time, and he said he just always knew. He closed his eyes and thought of her, and she always showed him his way home. She was pregnant at this point, their first child, and he was to do one final trading journey before he took a break to take care of her. She said she had a bad feeling, but he said that he knew the sea just as well as he knew her, and so he left. ” She looked down at his blue eyes and lost her concentration at the pure and complete attention he was giving her. Unable to stop herself, she bent over, met his plush pink lips, and whispered an 'I love you' before continuing without giving him a chance to speak..

“Anyway, they inevitably blew into a storm. One that was wild and dangerous, more dangerous than any he had encountered in his lifetime of sailing. The majority of the crew survived, but they became so disoriented that this man, who knew the sea better than anyone, couldn't figure out which way to go. He was now panicking because the storm had caused him to be gone for much longer than expected, and he didn't want to miss the birth of his child, but the days turned into weeks and they still hadn't seen land. He accepted the fact that he would most likely miss his child's birth and prayed to the gods to show him the way home. That same night, he had a dream in which his wife told him she loved him and asked him to come home, and when he said he was lost, she told him to look up to the night sky and she would show him the way home. That is exactly what he did. The stars were bright, but there was a new one in the sky, brighter than the moon, and every member of the crew swore they'd never seen anything like it before. They waited for it to move before following it on a whim. It eventually led them home, but what awaited him was a baby with grey eyes like a constellation of stars and the grave of his wife, who had led him home to his son."

“That was rather sad, don't you think?” He sat up, gathering her in his arms so that she sat in his lap.

“It's sad, but it is truly beautiful. Would you become a star for me, Jaqen?" She trailed kisses along his jawline, and he lost his concentration for a moment. 

His right hand came to cup the bottom of her jaw, tilting her head up at him. “I would become the moon if the gods would allow it.”

“And I hope you should never have to ask.” 

“Do you think you will have a love like the stories?”  He asked, cupping her face in his hands. 

“I believe that this is only the beginning of one.”

“You truly have a way with words, dearest.”

“It is from the stories and lives they have allowed me to live.” He ghosted over her lips, but she spoke again before they could lose themselves in each other. “How do you envision your future?”

“That is a big question, dearest. I only wish to love as much as I can and discover the world in more ways than one lifetime will allow. I never knew my true parents, and so I want to live enough lives for them as well.”

She hummed at him and did not allow him to ask her the same question back. Instead, she gave him a soft and slow kiss before she rose, holding a hand out, and said, “It is getting late; I believe that I am due home.”

He gave her the same hum and took her hand, pulling her back down and kissing her again before reversing their position. She giggled, and the two rode home calm and full of joy.

[strangerthingslover69]

Hi, honey, how are you?

Today I was wondering… what do you think about a smut story Jaqen H'ghar x Fem!Reader??? 😍

Hello, I’m great thanks! Are you? Ooh interesting 🤔 I haven’t watched Game Of Thrones that’s the only problem, well I did but years ago and can’t really remember it 🫣

[h3k3t]

not me wanting to write spicy fanfics about jaqen h'ghar even though no one would ever read them

[justallamaimaginingthings]

Braavos [Jaqen H’Ghar x Stark!Reader]

A/n: I was rewatching old GoT scenes while trying to find something for a request and this came to my mind. Enjoy!

Words: 1000ish  || GoT Masterlist

Being held captive by the Lannister army had been nothing but pure hell on earth. Seeing innocent northerners being tortured and slaughtered this way hurt you deeply. Knowing there was nothing you could do to help them was ever worse and you couldn’t help a feeling of guilt overtaking you. You had to get out of there and you had to do that soon. Luckily, your sister, Arya had managed to talk Jaqen into helping all of you out of Harrenhall. You couldn't wait to leave this horrible place but you were worried at the same time. 

What if you were caught? What if Jaqen was caught?  

Over your time in the fort you had developed some kind of friendship with the strange man from Braavos. Being completely honest, you should admit the bond the two of you shared was something more than a friendship and you both seemed to know it, even though you didn’t dare address the subject in fear of having misread the other’s intentions. But deep down you knew. Friends did not spend so much time sitting together is silence. Friends did not stare at each other’s lips while they were talking. And most of all, friends did not fall asleep thinking how it would be to wake up next to the other.

"And that's all he said?" you asked Arya for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. No matter how many times she explained what the red haired man had said, you couldn’t find it in yourself not to stress about it.

"We have to be at the gate at midnight, that's all he said. You opened your mouth to form another question but she beat you to it "No, I haven't seen or talked to him since then. Just stop worrying about it, you've seen what he can do" You sighted and nodded but your thoughts just couldn't strain from him.

Time seemed to go by in an agonizingly slow pace but after a lot of anxious waiting it was finally time to head for the gate. Upon finally reaching the much awaited destination the four of you froze. You looked at each other and quickly came to your senses as you rushed to hide behind an abandoned carriage.

"There are soldiers up there" Gendry half whispered half yelled, fear being clearly evident on his voice.

"But Jaqen said…"

"I don't know what your friend told you but I'm not risking that" Hot Pie interrupted Arya nodding towards the guards. Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest as your brain struggled to find a logical explanation behind this. Jaquen had promised he’d do that and you knew he was a man of his word.

"I know this looks bad, but I trust Jaqen and so does Arya" you said after getting over the initial shock, hoping that if you remained calm the others would follow your example.

"There are two Lannister soldiers out there. This doesn't look bad, this is bad" Arya deadpanned

"It is our only choice. I don't know about you, but I'm not going back there. They are going to kill us and even in the exceptionally impossible case when they don't I will not stay here and stand by as the Lannisters torture innocent people" you insisted, emphasizing on the fact that no matter what it took to escape, it was a risk you were willing to take.

"How much do you trust this friend of yours?" Gendry asked

"With my life" you replied before getting up and walking straight to the gate. You expected the soldiers to yell at you but no reaction came. Arya and the boys were holding their breaths while they watched you nearing the solders. As you walked closer you realized they were all dead, but their bodies had been placed in natural stances so that no one would suspect something was wrong. You let a breath you didn't know you were holding and motioned to the others to come with you. The four of you ran out of the fort never looking back. You continued running until the sun came up.

Suddenly the shadow of a person appeared on a hill next to the path. Being unable to make out any features, you attempted to approached the dark cloaked figure, but before you had the chance to reach close enough he disappeared.

"What are you doing here?" you heard Arya ask, but you were too far behind to see whom she was talking to

"Waiting for you" The moment you heard Jaqen's voice you rushed past the two boys and Arya and almost knocked the redhead down. At first he was surprised by your actions but he soon relaxed into the hug and even held you closer.

"Thank the gods you're still alive" you whispered drawing a light chuckle from him. Hearing the relief in your tone was enough to make a warm feeling flood his chest as an unusual sense of joy and protectiveness got the best of him.

"It takes more than two solders to kill a man" he noted causing an equally wide smile to light up your features. You couldn't help but miss the feeling of his arms wrapped around you the moment he let go. For a second your eyes met and Jaqen could swear his heart skipped a beat. What was wrong with him? He was supposed to be no one and that meant no attatchments.

"How did you know we'd come this way?" Arya asked again, interrupting the sweet moment the two of you shared.

"After all the things you have seen, this is your question?" Jaqen replied trying to appear nonchalant by keeping his poker face.

"How did you kill those guards? Was it hard?" the young Stark insisted. Your sister had always been the stubborn type and you knew she was able to achieve whatever came to her mind.

"No harder than taking a new name, if you know the way" Jaqen explained calmly which only served to intruige you as well. The way he talked about it was almost magical and you couldn’t resist wanting to know more.

"Can you teach me how?" it was your turn to ask causing his eyes to snap back at you as he observed the genuine curiosity in your eyes that seemed to be mixed with admiration and a hint of something else, he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

"If you would learn, you must come with me" he secretly hoped you'd take him up on that offer because even though he knew he shouldn't, somehow he had fallen in love with you over the short period of time he had known you.

"Where?"

"Far away across the Narrow Sea to Braavos" he answered as a sad smile formed on your face. No matter how much you wished there was a way you could go with him, you couldn't leave Arya behind. She was your sister whom you loved dearly and had sworn to protect.

"I want to… but I can't. I just can't leave Arya behind. I made a promise to father to keep her safe" you explained hoping he would understand your reasons, no matter how much saying goodbye hurt.

"Then we must part" For the first time you caught a glimpse of emotion in his eyes though you couldn't really recognize what it was "Take this" he said giving you a silver coin. The moment your fingers touched an electrifying shock travelled up and down your spine.

"What is it?" you asked observing it closely, not aware of the burning stare Jaqen was giving you in an attempt to memorise your beautiful features and warm smile.

"A coin of great value. If the day comes when you must find me again, just give that coin to any man from Braavos and say these words to him, Valar Morghulis" he started walking away but you gripped his arm making him turn around

"Please don't go" you said, the almost begging tone of your voice surprising the both of you. Since the moment Jaqen had met you had never begged for anything, always keeping your head up high proving how much of a Stark you truly were.

"A man has duties" It took every ounce of strength in him to remember his duties since the only thing he wanted at that point was to hold you as close as possible and ignore the world around him 

You stayed like that for what seemed like hours, just staring into each other's eyes. The tension was getting thicker and thicker with every passing moment, full of unspoken words. You didn't want to let go of his arm, afraid that if you did he'd disappear from your life in the same sudden way he had come into it.

"Jaqen-" he silenced you by placing his lips on your pulling you into a passionate kiss. Your body reacted before your mind could even realize what was happening and you let your hands wonder in his chest and finally rest on his shoulders, pulling him even closer. You felt like sparks were running down your spine as his lips molded perfectly with yours lighting up a fire deep inside you. He pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, eyes still closed.

"Come to Braavos" he whispered and turned around. Not once did he look back, knowing that if he saw you one more time he'd completely forget about his duties. You stayed there watching him walking away. Your hand moved to your lips and you smiled. The moment you knew Arya was safe you'd take the first ship to Braavos. You heard footsteps behind you and saw her running to catch up with you

"Where is Jaqen?" she asked

"He had somewhere to go. I don't think we'll see him again soon… Now tell your friends to hurry up. We made it this far, we can't get caught now"

[ingloriousblasters]

Hungry Eyes (Jaqen x Female Reader)

A/N: So I watched GoT for the first time and found some writing inspiration I’ve been lacking. (Also trying to get out of my comfort zone and write for other characters) So, uh, here’s this!

Warnings: smut, fighting

He was watching you again. You didn’t even need to turn your head around to prove it. Ever since he invited you to the House of Black and White, Jaqen H’ghar had kept a protective eye on you.

You had come to Braavos to escape the life you had before. Fate had sent you down the wrong alleyway from the main road and you found yourself surrounded by a group of thieves, hungry for something other than the few coins you carried. You managed to knock one of them out but the other two were more than you could handle. A hit to your face and stomach sent you to the ground when a man dressed in gray robes intervened. You sat on the cobblestone with a bloody lip, watching the man’s fluid movements as he killed all three. He turned back around, offering you his hand.

“Come,” he had said. “A man will help a woman with her injuries.” He led you to the front of a large building; the door split in two colors: black on one half, white on the other. You had healed months ago but still remained in the House of Black and White, sweeping floors and cleaning the bodies of the dead. Those gray eyes always finding you.

You waited until you heard his footsteps getting closer before turning around. Jaqen had started training you to defend yourself. He told you, in his unique way, it was because he never wanted you to be caught in a situation like the one he found you in. During your training sessions, his touches were soft and his body close to yours; placing a hand to your lower back and adjusting your positions to show you how to defend yourself. But during your sparring, he didn’t hold back. All of it confusing to you as you had found yourself developing feelings for the Faceless Man.

Your frustrations finally came to a head during your latest training session. Over and over your body landed hard on the stone floor and Jaqen would extend his hand to help you back up, only to take you down again within a few minutes.

When your head landed on the ground for the tenth time you didn’t take Jaqen’s hand. Instead, you took your staff and swiped it underneath his legs when he wasn’t looking, sending the assassin to the floor. You rolled your body over his, straddling his lap and pinning him to the ground. You pressed the wooden stick against his neck to restrain him. As your chest quickly rose and fell, Jaqen’s eyes widen briefly before returning to their usual blank expression.

His hands still free, he sent a blow to one of your arms and you released the staff by reaction. In one quick motion Jaqen sat up, causing you to fall back some, and tossed the weapon to the side. He then grabbed your arms and pinned them to your sides. You growled in frustration and tried to wiggle your way free, but the man was stronger than you and didn’t budge.

You both stared at each other while catching your breath. His striking eyes penetrated yours and suddenly the realization that you were sitting on his lap entered your mind. Not knowing what had come over you, you moved closer to him and pressed your lips to his. You felt his grip on your arms loosen, but realized Jaqen was not kissing you back. Quickly you moved away from him, embarrassed at what you had just done, and walked out of the large room back towards your chambers.  

Later that evening, having just taken the last pin out of your hair and it cascading over your shoulder, the door to your room creaked open. Your turned around to find Jaqen. Frozen where you stood, you watched him cross the threshold and close the door. You stared at one another, the silence overpowering.

“Why are you here?” you finally managed to squeak out through a dried throat. Though you already knew the answer.

Jaqen’s lips curved upwards, amused at your statement. “A man came to discuss about what happened earlier.”

“Oh.”

A rush of heat flooded your face. You were hoping he would never mention it again. The man hardly showed any emotion and for him to come to your room was unusual.

“A woman is nervous,” he stated, noticing the twitching in your fingertips as your arms folded together. “She has no need to be.”

You cocked your head to the side as he continued to explain.

“A man quite enjoyed the gift a woman bestowed on him.”

“You did?” you asked, shocked at his words.

He gave a short nod. “A man has certain wants…desires he does not allow himself to indulge in often. A man was unsure if a woman felt the same way...until today.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“A man has grown fond of the woman in front of him. He thought he should make his intentions known.”

Silence fell upon you both once more. All you wanted was to feel those lips again. On your mouth, on your chest, on your stomach, everywhere on your body.

You shook your head, acknowledging his honesty and took a step closer to him, untying the dark blue robes you wore as you did. The fabric slid off of your body, fully exposing yourself to him. The draft in the air set your skin ablaze in goosebumps and your nipples hardened, but Jaqen only kept eye contact with you. Those piercing gray-blue eyes never leaving yours.

There was a humming in the air and you realized it was the pounding of your heart against your chest. You wondered if the man could hear it too as you reached out to his robes. Carefully, you placed your hands on the leather belt around his waist and started to undo the knot. Jaqen did nothing to stop you and the belt fell to the floor with a thud.

You bit your lower lip as your hands traveled up to his chest and slid underneath the opening of the cloth. His skin was warm and smooth as your fingers explored up his shoulders and down his arms, taking the gray robe with them.

Your eyes faltered for a second as he stood in front you, just as exposed as you were. Hidden beneath the billowy robe was a well built assassin’s body. Smooth muscle adorned his arms, thighs, and stomach, and you swallowed hard before looking back up.

Jaqen’s face still showed no sign of emotion, but as your hands traced down his forearms and your fingertips grazed over his, in one swift move, he pulled you closer to him. His arms wrapped around your waist and you let out a gasp. The sudden movement had caught you off guard.

Pressed against him, your hands moved up his chest to his neck, and then to either side of his face, bringing him closer to you. His strands of red and white hair fell forward as you leaned up and kissed him. Your mind elsewhere, it took a moment for you to realize that, this time, Jaqen was kissing you back. His soft lips parted to deepen the kiss and you followed, allowing his tongue access to explore your mouth.

Standing in the middle of your chambers, Jaqen began guiding you back towards the small cot in the corner. When your legs hit the edge, he broke away from your lips and gently helped you down onto the bedding. You reached your hand out for him and spread your legs, welcoming him to settle between them.

You could feel the tip of his cock brush against your folds and a whimper escaped your lips just as Jaqen leaned forward to reclaim them. He trailed kisses down your throat and around the sensitive spot on your neck, while one his hands traced over the swell of your breast. Every touch of his was getting more and more unbearable. You felt Jaqen everywhere except where you wanted him most and your body was in a frenzy.

“Please,” you whispered to the mysterious man. He paused at your pleading. His eyes caught yours and for a moment you thought you saw them soften before he looked away. He brought the hand that had been teasing your breast down and guided himself inside of you.

Your back arched as he filled you and Jaqen let out the long breath he had been holding in. When he began rocking his hips, your arms and legs wrapped around his sturdy frame. As his thrusts became quicker, the cracks in his stoic facade began to appear. His eyes hooded with lust and low groans and grunts began falling from his lips. For a moment in time, personal pleasure overruled the Faceless Man’s code.

You tried to keep quiet but a particular deep thrust from Jaqen sent a loud moan to escape your body and echo off the stone walls.

Feeling the overflow of warmth pooling within your core you knew it wouldn’t be long till you came undone. You begged Jaqen to keep going and within a few minutes your body was writhing underneath his. You pressed your mouth into his shoulder blade to keep the others in the house from hearing you.

Jaqen followed soon after, releasing himself inside of you. His forehead rested against yours and you placed light kisses on his lips before he rolled off of you. The last thing you remembered before falling asleep was draping your arm over his chest.

When you woke the next morning, you were alone. No trace of the man found within your chambers. You dressed yourself while your brain wondered if the other night was a one time thing. Would a man have given in only once and never again? You weren’t sure if you could stay within these walls if so. Sharing a dwelling with the man you wanted but could never truly have was more than you could bare to think in the early hours.

You opened the door and headed down one of the halls to begin the day’s work when the deep voice stopped you.

“Good morning,” Jaqen said. He walked up to you with a small smile on his slanted lips and a knowing look in his eyes.

“Morning,” you replied. It was unlike him to greet you this way. At least not without wanting some chore to be done. Your face still blushed at the acknowledgment though.

Jaqen turned his head, peering up and down the hall you stood in. Then, looking back towards you with those striking eyes, he leaned in close and placed a soft kiss upon your cheek before continuing down the path he was headed on.

Perhaps you would stay after all.

[a-libra-writes]

Congrats on 800 followers!! ❤️❤️ Do you have any dating Jaqen headcanons please?

Hmm! I'll do my best :>

The most convenient thing: It doesn't matter who you are, lowborn or a high ranking lady, disguising as a knight, a wild Ironborn - he can easily blend in and find you. You'd spend the whole day wondering where he is, only for one of your bodyguards to take off his helmet and it's Jaqen winking at you.

He isn't one to care about birth, influence, power; he loves you for you. The circumstances of you both meeting was probably really weird.

Sometimes he has to be gone for a while, so he leaves you a lovely gift as a way of telling you. A large bouquet of flowers, a pretty bracelet, a book you've wanted - something you wake up to beside your bed. You'll know he's returned when a similar gift appears weeks later.

He thinks it's funny to follow you in a crowd, wait for you to turn and notice him and have you chase him around alleys and streets. Don't worry, he'd never lead you into danger. He just thinks its funny when you become frustrated or very determined. He'll always appears right behind you and cover your eyes when you give up.

Jaqen appreciates gifts you give, but he doesn't exactly have a place to put them (where does he live, anyway?). He can't even wear something you make to remind him of you when he's gone, so he likes to spend time with you. Because of his powers, it's very easy for him to sneak in places and meet with you.

Jaqen has no end of interesting things and places to show you; things he's discovered while doing whatever he does around Westeros. He'll show you rare shops, secret passageways and forgotten grottos.

He likes to hold your hand when you both walk. His hands are lithe and elegant, but heavily calloused. He's not shy about kisses in public if you aren't, unless you need to keep the relationship secret. Though sometimes he'll bring a pretty cloak so you can walk with him in public without anyone recognizing you.

Date spots are easy! Remember all those interesting places he finds? Not only can he take you there, he's great at finding more romantic places. A beautiful lake where the sun sets just right to make the water sparkle and a beautiful forest clearing covered in flowers on a breezy day. He prefers more natural date spots to the crowded, dirty cities.

He'll gladly teach you any Essosi language you're interested in - he knows a lot of them, not just Valyrian. He might tell you about where he came from, maybe just a little - but never who he is. He's Jaqen to you, and that's all you need.

[arsenic-catnep]

Soooo could you write more about how Jaqen bends you over every surface in the House of Black and White? 👀

Jaqen will pull you into an empty embalming room, feeling you up and forcing his hips against yours.

He wants you whining and breathless before he spins you around and roughly bends you over the mortuary table.

He'll hold your wrists behind your back, and grind himself against your ass. Getting you to moan and beg to be fucked.

Jaqen is cruel and will leave you there, walking away and saying he'll deal with you later.

Will corner you in the Room of Faces and rip your clothes away. Forcing you to the floor, and pushing you against the tiles. Fucking you from behind, his hips snapping against your ass. The room is fill with wet selacious sounds, as well as his voice. Telling you to be quiet, and that you don't want to be caught.

He enjoys fucking you so hard you're dazed. Seeing stars and babbling, Jaqen takes pride in turning you into a mess.

[megsironthrone]

Pleasant Company

Based on this request:  Hi! Would it be possible to have a Jaqen H'gar and reader, where the two meet and decided to travel together and they get close? Not necessarily in love but they like each other company? Thanks and I really enjoy reading what you write! And sorry for the error, english is not my first langage! by @darkjedipoptarts

Masterpost

Here you are! I do not own Jaqen. He belongs to George R.R.Martin. 

Warnings: It’s short. I literally could not think of anywhere else to take it. 

Pairings/Characters: Jaqen H’ghar x reader

When you first met Jaqen, you were a little wary. He had a mysterious way about him, down to the way that he spoke. Still, you had seen him fight first hand and knew that there was probably no one better to travel with in the entire world. You weren't sure exactly how the subject was brought up, but you ended up asking Jaqen if you could travel with him, wherever he was going.

           "This one's path holds many dangers. Are you certain you are ready?" You nodded eagerly. Maybe you could even convince Jaqen to train you a little bit better. You'd had some basic combat training but nothing like what Jaqen could do. Granted, you were certain that Jaqen had been training his entire life whereas you hadn't. "Then, it is time to go." You hiked your pack up on your shoulder and followed after Jaqen.

           While you traveled, the two of you learned a lot about each other. It took a while, but Jaqen revealed to you that he was a Faceless Man from Braavos. Most people would have been frightened. You'd heard of them before. But you weren't afraid. If Jaqen had wanted to hurt you, he would have done so already. Besides, he only killed to appease the Many-Faced god. Your name wasn't on the list at the moment, so you were able to breathe easy.

           But your favorite part of traveling with Jaqen? The nights. At night, when you would make camp, Jaqen would get very still and quiet. You could hear everything around you in such clarity. Everything from the owls in the trees, to the whispering of the brook and the rustling of leaves. Jaqen would sit there, sometimes with his eyes closed and just take it in, prompting you to do the same. He taught you the value of silence in those nights.

           One night, you sat next to the fire and sighed in content. Jaqen opened his eyes and bestowed a soft smile on you. "A man has given your request thought. Are you still willing to be trained?" You jerked your head toward him and nodded vigorously. "Then you must travel with this one to Braavos. To the House of Black and White. The journey is long and difficult, but, should you succeed, you shall prove your worth to study under the Many-Faced god." You beamed at him.

           Jaqen continued to sit in quiet reflection until you fell asleep. Then, he sighed lowly. He wasn't used to traveling companions. Yet, you were different. You weren't overly nosy or loud. You let him be during his quiet moments and you didn't try and force conversation. You never looked at him like you were afraid of him. Unlike most of his former acquaintances, Jaqen found that you were rather intelligent, ready to take on whatever the world threw at you. You were prepared to adapt to a life that wasn't always easy. All-in-all, he found your company very pleasant. He only hoped that would continue on the journey to Braavos.

           He wanted to believe that you could handle what was coming. Since the death of the Waif girl at the hands of Arya Stark, Jaqen had lost some of his faith. He hoped that, maybe, it could be restored with your help. The thought brought a smile to his face as he lay down to sleep across from you.

           By the time the two of you boarded the ship for Braavos, you were certain that Jaqen was the closest friend you'd ever had. He knew everything about you now. He was a little more reserved that you, but you figured that was just his nature. After all, he was a Faceless Man. Everything in their past was pretty much erased by the time their training was done. Not that he didn't remember it, but he had no time to dwell on it when he had to assume the face of another.

           "Jaqen? Will I be a Faceless Man like you?" He looked up from his staff and gave a little nod. "If you are willing and determined. If you obey the laws of the Many-Faced god, then you shall be No One." You nodded and sat down. The two of you sat there in silence while the crew bustled around you. "Thanks for this, Jaqen. You really are a good friend." Jaqen shook his head fondly and chuckled. He'd never been called a friend before, but he was certain you were his. Still, he said nothing as you sat there, just enjoying each other's company.

(a/n: I know it’s short, but I hope you like it!) 

@brewsthespirit-blog @gameofwinters @line-viper @littlemisscaptainfandom @frozenhuntress67 @etherealpotter @obsessedwithgot @cd1242

[stellarbit]

What Winter Brings (Jaqen H’ghar x reader)

First time trying my hand at a Jaqen request. Enjoy!

A Request: I have another request if you please. Jaqen x Reader. She'd been friends with Sansa and Arya when they were young. When Arya rejoins Sansa in the north, reader is astounded by how much little Arya has changed. She asks to be taught to fight too. Jaqen is around to check on Arya and is impressed by reader. Reader recognizes his face somehow (maybe she knew the actual Jaqen, assuming the faceless man took on the identity of a Jaqen he killed). Confusion and angst insues

For years you’d hidden yourself away in the towns of the North. The Starks were brinking extinction, Theon had taken and lost Winterfell, Winterfell had burned to the ground by a man more cruel than Joffrey Baratheon. Now there were Starks in Winterfell again, Sansa, Arya, and Bran. With them you returned as well.

The three children you played with in the moors growing up. You’d helped them with their wolfings. Your father had been the Kennel Master and as such you were the ones they came to for rearing tips. There had been more to the litter. Now, they were as scarce as the Starks themselves.

Arya had come back with her fire still as wild and fierce as the day she left Winterfell. She was phenomenal with her little blade. Deadlier than most the men you’d stumbled upon in your hidings.

Perhaps all but one.

In your awe of Arya’s skills you took her up on an offer to learn swordsmanship. If Jon Snow was as truthful as you remembered anyone with two hands needed to learn their share if the living were to win out.

It turned out that teaching oneself to kill wasn’t far from teaching a dog to do the same.

You were glad of your quick learning one particularly cold day. On your way to your quarters you spotted a hooded man near the kennels. They were faced towards the courtyard, where Arya was sparring with Brienne of Tarth. There wasn’t a soul in Winterfell you hadn’t cataloged by now. A hooded figure such as that, watching so intently, there should be no one like that. No one up to any good anyways.

Your eyes flew to your sword. You’d run away from one too many threats to your lords and ladies. This would not be one of them.

With their eyes still on the sparring women they didn’t even turn when your feet approached. When the tip of your sword threatened to dig into the soft flesh of their thigh, you heard a soft chuckle.

“Back up into the kennels. Make a noise and I’ll paint the snow with your blood.”

Curling a hand into their cloak, you guided them into the recesses of your den. Never in your life had you confronted a threat. Let alone threaten the threat back. When all that was said were the cold breaths between your bodies, you heard the man speak. “A woman learned to bite from a wolf.”

The voice was soft in a way, deep in another. A foreign accent flourishing its words. Your sword fell away as you yanked the man around. Down his long nose looked two blue eyes. Two blue eyes you’d thought to be sunken six feet in the ground.

“Jaqen.” Your hand retreated to the folds of your cloak, unsure of what was before them. “This isn’t possible.”

“A woman should know a man is capable of many, many things.” One side of his lip curled into something of a smirk. “Escaping death is one of those many things.”

Splaying out from his hood were the auburn locks your fingers had laced through dozens of times. A streak of silver peaked through his stresses. How many times had you imagined roots taking the place of your fingers? “A man did not expect to see a woman with the wolves.” He tilted his head to you. “He’s seen what the winter has brought her. A sword does well in her hand.”

Between the two of you, you’d spent hours recounting your journeys. Where you’d been, where you wanted to go. You were sure you’d told him of your loyalty to the Starks. Warily your hand reached out in front of you. Slowly- as if the mirage of the man before you would vanish if you moved too quickly. The wispy locks curved with your touch. Absolutely the same as you remembered. Yet…

When your eyes locked with those icy pools, you could see every speck of green and every wave in them. They were the same and yet they were not.

“Who are you?”

“No one.”

Your lips tightened into a fine line. Every so often, after you’d parted with Jaqen, the Gods would bless you with a dream of the last smile you saw of his. What you saw before you now, a shadow of what it had been, tore your heart into the shreds Jaqen had left you with.

A cold wind blew into the kennels, reminding you that this was not one of those blessed dreams. Only a cold and harsh reality.

The man before you, the man you had felt such fierce things, for was not the man you’d left that summer’s day.

And still, as your fingers trailed his warm lips, you thanked the Seven, you thanked the Old Gods. You thanked every deity you could fathom for the smile before you.

[novaursa]

have you ever thought of writing for jaqen h’ghar? was just rewatching GOT and he is too fine lol!

I've never thought about opening a series for him.

But I'm writing for all the characters of GOT/HOTD/ASOIAF/FAB universe when requests are open.

Requests will be open next week. So, if you have an idea for me regarding Jaqen, feel free to send it to me when you see a post about how requests are open again. 🙂