#ewinofthelake

[squiffygin]

The last chapter of '1943' has been posted on Ao3.

I hope you like it.

Thanks for reading and for all the comments etc.

[dresupi]

Sleep intimacy - Arya/Jaqen

for @ewinofthelake​

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Jaqen was woken rudely by Arya when she finally came in, climbing into bed and getting situated. He didn’t open his eyes, and therefore didn’t know if she knew he was awake and aware.

She took forever to get comfortable though, tossing this way and that. Punching her pillow. He was very tempted to just roll over and kiss her still.  Tire her out until she was just a pile of limbs that would lay still while he slept.

But he didn’t.

He just lay there and let her toss and turn.

All in all, it only took her about five minutes or so to get comfortable, and then she was asleep. Snoring softly.

Jaqen’s mouth tugged up at the corners and he shifted slightly to give her more room. She froze, but then proceeded to snuggle into his side, bending her legs and fitting perfectly against him. After that, she was perfectly still.

He didn’t really know if she was aware of it, but she was definitely more cuddly in her sleep.

[squiffygin]

Chapter 2 of '1943' is now on Ao3. Let me know what you think.

[dresupi]

Arya/Jaqen - Opia

for @ewinofthelake​

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Arya took a sip of her drink, her eyes scanning the crowd until she saw him and froze. Was he supposed to be here? Or was he crashing her parent’s anniversary party?

She glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed him. Like usual, it seemed as if they hadn’t. And he was still looking at her, dark eyes reaching for and finally holding hers.

He arched an eyebrow. A question. A small tilt of his head as he motioned towards the patio.

She left her glass on a table unattended. She wasn’t coming back to it anyway. Not now that he was here.

“Ms. Stark,” he purred softly as she approached him.

“Jaqen,” she countered. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited.”

“How?” she asked, squinting at him while he just chuckled. Who the fuck was he? Googling ‘Jaqen H’ghar’ had yielded her zero results, so he must go by another name.

“Does it matter?” he asked, almost as if he could read her mind.

“No,” she replied truthfully because it didn’t. “No, it doesn’t.”

The only thing that mattered was that he was here. Who was she to question the why?

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

A quirk of his lips made her belly go all warm and she didn’t really want to make small talk after that.

[dresupi]

For: @ewinofthelake​ Prompt: Snowball fight turns flirty, turns serious, then flirty again \ Ship: Arya Stark/Jaqen H’ghar

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Jaqen was still talking to her as she hung back, and Arya knew it was likely in poor taste to lay siege to the poor fellow while he thought they were having an honest discussion about his lack of winter hats on their way to the shops.

But the truth of it was, there really wasn’t any such thing as poor taste when it came to the two of them.

It was a lazily made snowball, she could attest. But this wasn’t a proper snowball fight. Just a flirty attempt to shut him up. Kissing would have worked just as well, but the snow was here and well… Arya was feeling a bit impish.

She tossed the snowball at the back of Jaqen’s head and it exploded into a burst of white powder on impact. He turned abruptly, fire in his eyes as he locked on her gaze.  “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

She laughed aloud and danced backward, kneeling down as he darted across the sidewalk and into the openness of the park. His first snowball caught her in the side of the head and she quickly ducked down behind a shrub. The benefit to her position was that it left Jaqen out in the open while she had the cover of the trees.  But they were one to one tied right now, so she wasn’t sure how much of a benefit it actually was.

Her one knee became wet and cold as she knelt in the snow to accrue a pile of snowballs to pelt her ‘foe’. She was so entranced in the process that she didn’t even know what had hit her at first.

Three snowballs in rapid succession, and down the back of her neck.

She yelped, dropping some of her own ammunition, but turning and tossing the remaining four directly into his face until he fell to his knees, sputtering and laughing and calling for a truce.

“A truce? You got the drop on me!” she laughed as he wrapped both arms around her knees and rested his face against her belly.

“Truce, because I cannot bear to destroy you the way I would normally destroy my enemy.”

“You couldn’t destroy me if you tried,” she countered.

He tilted his head up, resting his chin against her hip. “Well… not here, it’d be indecent.”

She scoffed and stepped back, turning on her heel and continuing on towards the shops, leaving him to get to his feet and follow her. She could barely contain her smile, though. And Jaqen knew it.

[dresupi]

For: @ewinofthelake​ Prompt: No, I'm pretty sure the roast is supposed to be dry... I'll bet it tastes fine. Ship: Arya Stark/Jaqen H’ghar

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Arya wasn’t entirely sure how she ended up being the one to cook the roast.

No, that was a lie. She was absolutely sure, but she’d never admit it out loud.

Her sister had goaded her into it. Sansa had lamented that the task always fell to her to make the entire meal while all the siblings just swooped in and ate it.

Robb had remained silent. Jon had pretended he was very interested in something stuck to his shoe. The only one who agreed with her was Theon.  But Theon always agreed with Sansa now that they were fucking.

Co-habitating.  Whatever, they were fucking, and Theon had to agree with her.

And possibly, possibly, she was right. Whenever the Starks didn’t go home for the holiday, they came to Sansa’s.  And Sansa cooked the entire meal. That wasn’t what had prompted Arya to volunteer herself, however.  It was the second part of her sister’s passive-aggressive bid for help.

“Oh well, I guess it’s for the best. None of you could cook your way out of a pre-heated oven, so…”

“I’ll make the roast,” Arya stated.

Just to prove to Sansa that it wasn’t that hard to throw a slab of meat into the oven and turn it on.

Cut to the present, Arya was worrying over a roasting pan in Sansa’s kitchen, with Jaqen dutifully by her side. Because they were cohabitating (fucking), and he had to be by her side through this whole awful process.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t offer to pick up a pie from the bakery…” he murmured. “Or start out small… bringing the napkins.”

Arya ignored him and jabbed the roast with the meat thermometer once more, eyes widening when it shot up well past where she was expecting it to.

“Bloody hell,” she swore, reaching for the oven mitts. “It was well undercooked the last time I checked! It’s going to be dry as old balls now…”

Jaqen poked the roast with his finger, sucking it into his mouth afterward. “I’m pretty sure the roast is supposed to be dry… I’ll bet it tastes fine.”

She plopped the roasting pan down on the oven top and Sansa appeared in the doorway with her empty wine glass. “Is it cooked?” she asked. “Finally, now you can make some puddings and be done with it. I’m starving.”

Arya stared blankly at her sister and tossed the meat thermometer onto the countertop. “I said I’d make a roast. Didn’t say nothing about any fucking puddings. Make your own puddings. I’m done.” She reached out and took the wine glass from her sister’s hand and marched over to the fridge for some wine of her own.

Sansa snorted out a laugh and moved smoothly into position. “No problem. Just one thing, though…”

“What?” Arya asked, in mid-pour.

“It’s a lot of hard work, isn’t it?”

Arya glanced over at Jaqen, and back at Sansa. “Not at all. I’ll do it anytime.”

She could sense her boyfriend’s impending laughter, so she grabbed his elbow and took him with her.

“You’ll do it anytime?” he asked, mirth barely concealed.

“One bite of that shoe leather and they won’t ever ask me again,” Arya replied, taking a gulp from her wine glass.

[dresupi]

For: @ewinofthelake​ Prompt: You're shoveling the walk next door, and you slip and fall on your ass. You think no one saw, except you hear my stifled laughter Ship: Arya Stark/Jaqen H’ghar

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She found the shovel right where Jon said it was, hanging in his meticulously organized garage. He was such a humungous dork, but she loved him. Loved him enough to perform manual labor for him at any rate.

Arya took the shovel out to the walk, which was completely hidden from view by the thick layer of snow, reminding herself once again that Jon had asked her to do this.

Jamming the shovel into the snow near the front steps proved beneficial. At least in figuring out exactly where the walk was. Once she’d sussed out its location, she started shoveling snow to the right and left, making her way down the paved walkway towards the mailbox.

She was actually making excellent time and thought that she might even do Jon more of a favor and get the rest of the sidewalk as well when she suddenly found herself flat on her ass, holding the shovel, and blinking down at her splayed legs.

“What the actual…” she looked around, confused for a moment about whether she’d actually fallen or if the sidewalk had given way and she was half in the ground now.

But her ass ached a lot, so she figured it was probably the former.

At least no one had seen her.

“Are you alright?”

Three words had never caused such a negative reaction before.

There was a tinge of laughter behind them, so she knew that no matter what, she was going to be facing someone who’d not only seen her fall, had laughed about it.

She turned, seeing her hot neighbor from next door, sitting on his porch in what looked like a solid black jogging suit. She’d never seen him jog before, but there he was, stretching on his porch and laughing at her.

“I’m fine,” she ground out, cheeks blazing as she struggled to stand.

“Whoa, wait. Hang on, I’ll come to help you.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated. “I don’t need your help.”

“Well, I’m going to give it. Because you didn’t deserve my laughter,” Hot Guy replied.  He jogged over in no time, giving Arya plenty of opportunity to check out his form. His… jogging form.

Which was tip-top, by the way.

Once he’d helped her to her feet, she had half a mind to retreat. Go back into the house until he left the area and quickly head back out to finish the job so he couldn’t see her do it. But she couldn’t really force herself to move once he’d arrived. Mostly because he was somehow prettier up close. How was that fair?

“I’m really sorry about laughing,” he said, still snickering a little.

She scoffed. “You are not. You’re content to laugh at me for something I didn’t have any control over. You try it if you’re so aerodynamically blessed.” She shoved the shovel into his hands and for some reason he took it. And finished the job, bringing it back to her and minding the icy patch.

Arching an eyebrow, she took the shovel from him, nodding her thanks and turning back to the garage to return it to its rightful home.

“I’d love to take you out sometime,” he called after her. “I’m Jaqen, by the way.”

She summoned all the inner-ice-queen that she could muster, peering down her nose at him in a way that she hoped looked at least somewhat foreboding.

“That’s nice to hear, Jaqen. I wouldn’t bank on that working out for you, however.”

“It’s fine. I enjoy a challenge. What’s your name?”

“Arya,” she answered, ducking back into the garage and closing the door behind her so he couldn’t see her smile.

[squiffygin]

I was 18 and hiking around Europe in 1981 when this song came out. Every bar in West Berlin seemed to be playing it. I'm thinking of writing some fanfic based on this song. What do you think?