(Sequel to my one-shot Return Of The Assassin's Wolf. But can be read as standalone) Jaqen and Arya are now 5 years married and living away from The House of Black and White, although they are still very much a part of the order. They have been enjo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Jaqen stood on the balcony of his and Arya's bedroom and watched, a smile on his face, as Arya raced around the rear garden of their home with their daughter Amara. The little girl's hair, the same shade as his, flowed behind her wildly as she ran away from her mother, both mother and child laughing brightly. Five years it had been since that night in the House of Black and White.
Arya had indeed moved into his home with him and they had married six moons later. Both of them knew it was right for them. Because they'd both realised that they'd been in love for quite a long time before they had ended up laying together that night at the House. Then a year and a half later? Amara had come along. Three years old now, and soon to become a big sister, as Arya was with child again. Only a couple of moons along though, so still early days. But they were excited all the same.
He had found, as she had grown Amara, that he adored to see his lovely girl glow with impending motherhood. He also loved to see her heavy with his child, it called to something deeply primal within him. A primal feeling that usually led him to become insatiable for her. Not that she minded. No, rather she was more than excited and willing to open herself for him. Maybe she secretly enjoyed knowing just whose child was held within her belly. But then they were ravenous for each other at the best of times, even when her womb was empty. So he supposed he should be thankful that she hadn't fallen pregnant more times than she had already. Gods knew, with the way they fucked, he should have sired ten children on her by this point. But she was a diligent lady and he suspected that she'd been making the seed killing salve and using it to prevent their couplings bearing too much fruit. He had, afterall, taught her how to make it. Besides, it was much less harsh on her body than the tea of prevention.
Gods she had gotten so damned sick after their first night together and she had taken it the next morning. But aside from that, prolonged use of that tea could cause a womb to become barren. So no, better the seed killer than the tea of prevention. He was glad though, because as much as he adored seeing her pregnant? Two children were more than enough for them, neither had wanted a massive family. They enjoyed the act of making them of course, but that didn't mean the act needed to result in one every time. In this, Essos was ahead of Westeros with various methods to effectively reduce child bearing. The people of Essos held fun and freedom in high regard. They wanted to enjoy life and all the little pleasures it held. Including but not limited to, all manners of sexual release.
He was pulled from his thoughts, when he heard the heavy bell by their front door ring. Raising his brow at this, he turned and made his way out of the master bedroom and down the stairs. Soon he was opening the door and felt his mouth fall open a little with who was standing there. Red of hair and a bit taller than Arya with eyes bluer than hers as well, stood Sansa. And as he took in his sister-in-law and his scared looking six year old nephew Eddard, his jaw tightened in anger. Bruises. Sansa had bruises.
"A man thinks his sister should come inside quickly, yes?" He said, his anger barely held in check as he did his best to school his features into his famed calmness.
