☓║ NO ONE.

† THE GOD OF MANY FACES  —-         independent  &  selective  roleplay blog  for  jaqen  h'ghar  from  the  asoiaf  franchise   ;  the  faceless  man,   priest  of  the  many-faced  god  .  heavily  headcanon-based  .  triggers  include  :  violence  ,  mutilation  ,  lost identity ,  cults ,  abuse  ,  and  more.  est  . 2017 .  re - established july 2024 .  (  written  lovingly  by  winter  ,  formerly  kary  ,  she  /  her  ,  21  +  ,  minors  dni  !!  )

    —-    CARRD   .   best viewed via desktop / pc .

“ a  man  pays  his  debts.   a  man  owes  three.   the  red  god  has  his  due,   sweet  girl,   and  only  death  may  pay  for  life.   this  girl  took  three  that  were  his.   this  girl  must  give  three  in  their  places.   speak  the  names,  and  a  man  will  do  the  rest.   three  lives  you  shall  have  of  me   —   three,   and  we  are  done.   so  a  girl  must  ponder.   but  not  too  long. ”   by  the  time  arya  lit  her  stub  of  a  candle,   only  a  faint  smell  remained  of  him,   a  whiff  of  ginger  and  cloves  lingering  in  the  air.

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ;

they  catch  each  other’s  eyes  across  stone-floored  rooms;   pass  each  other  feigning  unfamiliarity  in  narrow  corridors;   conceal  their  curiosities  where  the  other’s  scent  lingers  in  a  place  they’d  not  typically  be  found.   and  this  is  how  it  continues  for  many  weeks,   the  leaves  finally  turning  the  rusty  shades  of  autumn  outside  the  red  keep’s  many  windows.   jaqen  knows  this  castle  well   —   he’s  been  here  before,   disguised  under  a  myriad  of  alternative  forms   ( most  recently  posing  as  a  water  dancer  to  train  a  northern  lord’s  fascinating  daughter,   before  circumstances  necessitated  another  guise ).   and  shae,   too,   appears  to  have  knowledge  of  her  surroundings  that  surpasses  her  role  here.   they  share  plenty  in  common.

          “ tensions  are  rising, ”   he  tells  her  in  hushed  tones  and  eastern  accent,   early  morning  sunlight  peeking  through  the  narrow  servant  windows.   they  stand  in  a  laundry  room;   the  workers  usually  here  are  yet  to  begin  their  daily  activities,   most  having  not  even  crawled  from  bed  yet.   and  now  his  hand  rests  to  her  upper  arm,   piercing  blue  gaze  locked  with  hers.   he  exists  forever  in  hyper-vigilance   —   if  anyone  were  to  threaten  to  intrude  on  their  meeting,   he  could  be  gone  before  their  hand  even  touched  the  handle  outside.

          “ you  must  be  careful.   our  mad  king  has  tendency  enough  for  cruelty, ”   he’s  seen  first-hand  the  scenes  joffrey  has  left  in  his  quarters,   guarding  the  room  while  evidence  was  cleared  away,   “ still  more  so  if  his  choice  of  target  can  be  used  to  torment  those  he  despises. ”

The first thing she noticed upon coming to was that her head was pounding. The second, that there was something warm and wet trickling down the side of her face. When she moved to lift a hand to wipe at it, she discovered a third thing-her arms were bound at the wrists behind her back by heavy chains. She felt a surge of confusion at the sight of her bindings, the reason for which she had the irons clapped on was unknown. The confusion turned to fear when she lifted her head and found herself in a stone cell, and that fear threatened to turn to panic as she strained against the chains. "Hello?" She called into the darkness that ebbed outside the bars in front of her. "Anyone? There has to have been a mistake, I don't belong in here..." She couldn't.

a  faceless  man's  purpose  is  ineffable.   they  flow  along  the  tides  and  the  winds,   their  feet  making  steady  progress  toward  their  goals,   arrows  loosed  from  braavosi  bowstring  to  carry  out  the  many-faced  god's  will.   and  now  one  finds  their  way  to  the  dark  cells,   blending  into  the  shadows,   back  touching  the  frigid  stone  wall.   once  the  captive  awakens,   a  man  steps  forth  into  the  drenching  candlelight.   “ a  lady  will  keep  quiet...   if  she  wants  to  be  freed  of  this  place. ”

          slim  hand  rises  to  his  lips;   a  single  finger  covers  them,   urging  her  towards  stillness  and  silence.   the  sounds  of  lorath  spill  off  his  tongue,   exotic  to  westerosi  ears  but  occasionally  heard  in  western  essos. 

          then his  hand  dips  out  of  sight,   into  the  folds  of  his  clothing,   and  draws  out  thin  strands  of  metal;   tools  for  lock-picking,   normally  kept  from  prying  eyes  but  now  held  in  full  view.   i'll  set  you  free,   the  gesture  reads,   if  i  feel  i  can  trust  you.   an  ironic  choice,   considering  his  appearance,   considering  her  own  situation   —   who  could  trust  such  a  man,   though  choices  are  thin  on  the  cold  ground?

          “ for  what  reason  could  the  never-queen  have  found  herself  in  chains?   this  is  a  curious  thing. ”   pale  blues  examine  her  features,   flashing  interest.   “ these  cells  are  reserved  for  heinous  criminals   —   or  traitors. ”   ... then  which  is  he?

“ a  man  does  not  choose  his  companions  in  the  black  cells, ”   the  handsome  one  with  the  red-and-white  hair  said.   something  about  the  way  he  talked  reminded  her  of  syrio;   it  was  the  same,   yet  different  too. — a clash of kings

and

the  man  syrio  forel  had  come  with  an  excellent  reputation,   and  his  flamboyant  braavosi  style  was  well  suited  to  arya’s  slender  blade,   yet  still  .  .  .   a  few  days  ago,   she  had  been  wandering  around  with  a  swatch  of  black  silk  tied  over  her  eyes.   syrio  was  teaching  her  to  see  with  her  ears  and  her  nose  and  her  skin,   she  told  him. — a game of thrones

“ you  have  five  senses, ”   the  kindly  man  said.   “ learn  to  use  the  other  four,   you  will  have  fewer  cuts  and  scrapes  and  scabs. ”   she  could  feel  air  currents  on  her  skin  now.   she  could  find  the  kitchens  by  their  smell,   tell  men  from  women  by  their  scents.   she  knew  umma  and  the  servants  and  the  acolytes  by  the  pattern  of  their  footfalls,   could  tell  one  from  the  other  before  they  got  close  enough  to  smell. — a feast for crows

also

it  took  all  her  strength  to  remain  still  and  silent,   the  way  syrio  forel  had  taught  her,  to  stand  there  like  a  stick  of  furniture. — a clash of kings

“ when  you  are  not  pouring,   you  must  stand  as  still  as  if  you  had  been  carved  of  stone, ”   the  kindly  man  told  her.   “ can  you  do  that? ”   “ yes. ”   before  you  can  learn  to  move  you  must  learn  to  be  still,   syrio  forel  had  taught  her  long  ago  at  king’s  landing,   and  she  had. — a feast for crows

not to mention

“ you  told  me  that  if  i  left,   i  couldn’t  come  back. ”   “ just  so. ”   those  words  made  her  sad.   syrio  used  to  say  that  too,   arya  remembered.   he  said  it  all  the  time.   syrio  forel  had  taught  her  needlework  and  died  for  her.  — a feast for crows

arya stark is that of an old tale,    now.     she is gone.     what remains:   a boy,     named arry.         not worthy of anything,   not worth a minute of time.     yet,   a man is observant of cut hair and deepened voice;       how these wash away once revealed.     cheeks are drained of warmth as the scraps of bread and butter eaten hours ago decay in small stomach.     staring upward to the man in silver,     glaring…       almost angry.     he speaks with a strange sensation on his face,     it looks like he’s enjoying the purge of arya’s list as it unfolds in front of him.         “   is a girl worth a second chance?   ”         spoken by jaqen h’ghar,    @facelos.                      ❛❛        [ pleading, brows begin to furrow, daunting the idea of what could go wrong. ]    please,     just let me say another name.     it was a mistake,     [ almost 10 seconds pass. she sees nothing is working, but hopefully this will. ]     i take it back!         ❜❜

sleep had not come easy to the she-wolf at the absence of her husband and her ever wandering thoughts that when her lady in waiting entered her shared chambers she was already awake. and had been for hours in truth. “good morning, briggita, breakfast smells wonderful this morning as always.”

there is nothing lyanna hates more than being robert’s wife, he has made her nothing more than a joke among those in the castle. just as he has last night when he did not come to her bed and she can only assume he found his way into another.

“please, briggita.” she sighs wearily, perhaps some sun will help brighten her mood. though she doubts opening the curtains will do much of anything, she at least has to try. there will be much that requires her attention now that her husband is more than likely indisposed for the remainder of the day, starting with something for whichever serving girl robert found his way to.

she raises from her bed with a frown already upon her face, a look that has become nearly permanent since she married robert and he began finding other beds at night. “will you have the maesters prepare a moon tea?” she knew that she would not need to mention what or who for, no doubt the whole castle already knows. but she cannot allow robert to sire a bastard on another woman before he sires at least one son with her, as much as it pains her to do so. she did not need nor want anymore rumors surrounding her.

“i am sure we have much to do today.” much that she is not looking forward to facing with the way her husband has scorned her. often she pretends that briggita does not hear the rumors that float around the castle, merely to pretend that at least one person does not gossip behind her back. that she has one friend here so far away from home.

at the lady's request,  briggita heads efficiently to the windows,  pulling back the curtains and securing them neatly to each side.  despite the  CLOUDS,  an amount of sunlight streams through.  in the distance,  in clear weather,  shipbreaker bay is easily visible from this side of the castle.  ❝ it's a lovely day, ❞  she comments,  though offers something of a smile as she returns to pour the tea into a single teacup.  ❝ at least,  it isn't raining yet. ❞

          she catches lyanna's eyes briefly at the mention of the moon tea,  and nods.  ❝ the maester is preparing some as we speak, ❞  though she wouldn't have arranged for the dose to be delivered to the serving girl without prior approval,  it's not difficult to see that bastard children could lead to much unnecessary unrest.  she’d sent the request to the maester before heading over here,  herself.  ❝ there are many within the castle who hold your best interests at heart,  my lady. ❞

          maybe not as many as she'd like,  but  SOME  is better than none at all.

          ❝ is there anything more i can do for you?  i can leave you to rise and breakfast in peace,  if you'd like.  as you say,  there are a few things for you to arrange today. ❞  certain things that,  as the lady of the stormlands,  she may have to take over from her hungover husband while he’s out of action.  it’s an unfair situation,  but jaqen knows he’s seen worse;  even briggita had,  before her death,  judging from the memories awakened upon assuming her likeness.  different kinds of unfair,  still  UNJUST  no matter how you look at it.

          ❝ ... it is certainly not my place to say,  my lady,  but...  i can’t help wondering  — ❞  gentle hands,  though worn by work,  clasp in front of herself.  she kneads them,  as if a little anxious.  ❝ —  have you not written to your brother about your...  predicament? ❞

wendy darling : peter pan 

zack fair : final fantasy vii 

will turner : pirates of the caribbean

jaqen h’ghar / the faceless men in general lbr : asoiaf/got

frodo baggins : lord of the rings

wednesday addams : the addams family

inigo montoya : the princess bride

inara serra : firefly

princess hilda : legend of zelda  ( link between worlds )

edward elric : fullmetal alchemist