Chapter Text
He could feel that he was trapped; there was weight on his back and his legs and across his shoulders. He had no idea how he had come to be trapped. The pressure was not painful, it was constricting his breathing but not sufficiently he was worried he’d suffocate, but he was clearly trapped. He knew he was just going to have to lie there and wait until someone dug him out, or he’d eventually die of lack of water. He was prepared for that to be some time and it was, he either fell asleep or passed out at least twice that he was aware of before he heard a voice. He couldn’t make out words but the tone was ‘I’ve found another body’ and it wasn’t long before he could feel the weight decreasing. Stone was removed from round his head and someone gave him a flask, he drank. Uch, sour wine, still fluids. People kept working and more stone was removed, eventually he was free. He stood up and fell down again, on the third attempt he stayed upright, by which time the people had backed off, clearly they didn’t like the look of him. He started to walk and people kept backing off so when he just kept going he ended up leaving the ruins of the castle behind and moving into the city. Things weren’t much better there; clearly the place had been destroyed by something. Finally he found an inn that was intact and open and then he found he had no money and that however much people were afraid of him he was getting nothing without coin. So he returned to the streets and kept walking. After several hours he had cleared the city and was on a road that ran largely north. Eventually he got tired enough and stopped to sleep leaning against a tree.
When he woke the sun was well up and a man with strange hair was standing looking at him. “Who are you”.
“I was just thinking of asking you the same question”.
“Well I fucking well asked first”.
“My names Jaqen H’ghar, and yours”.
There was a silence, a long silence, then “I don’t know”.
“What do you know, where you came from, how you got hurt”.
“I’m hurt”.
“You’ve burn scars all over your face that are years old, but the back of your head looks like it’s been smashed in recently, maybe yesterday at King’s Landing”.
“Dunno, where’s King’s Landing”.
“Back up the road about 10 miles, there was a big fight there yesterday, looks to me like you were involved and got hit on the head”.
“Got dug out of a collapsed building yesterday”.
“Big place, a castle”.
“Looked like it was once, well trashed now though”.
“The Red Keep at Kings’ Landing, you were involved in the fighting. Any idea who’s side you were on”.
“No”.
“That damage to the back of your head, looks like it’s robbed you of your memory”.
“Yes”.
“Had anything to eat recently”.
“No, I’ve no coin”.
“I could get you some food and wine. Can you stand up”.
The man levered himself to his feet, he felt stiff and bruised, but there was no major pain. “Looks like it”.
“Come on then”.
Together they walked about a mile to an inn. The man who called himself Jaqen H’ghar paid for meat and bread and ale, wine was in short supply apparently. The man noticed that people were still avoiding him, but he’d realised that he was a lot bigger than most of them, that he was wearing a hauberk and the man who called himself H’ghar had said his face was scared, so that so that didn’t seem unreasonable. When they’d eaten and sat around H’ghar asked him if he was fit to walk some more and they left the inn and headed on down the road.
Steadily they walked north and slightly west, through a town called Rosby, then to a port called Duskendale. It wasn’t that big a place but there were ships and the man who called himself H’ghar got them on one to Braavos. It wasn’t a big ship and the journey wasn’t that comfortable. By this time it had become clear to both of them that the man wasn’t going to remember anything important any time soon. He wasn’t entirely happy at the man who called himself H’ghar taking him overseas, but he pointed out that it was where he was going, his home, and that if the man wanted his help he should come with him. Since the man had no coin, no name, no idea who his friends might be he didn’t think he’d got any choice. There’d been a war, the forces of Queen Cersei who’d held the Red Keep had lost. The man had come out of the Red Keep so he was probably one of Cersei’s men. His armour, which they’d conveniently lost at an inn one night, suggested he might have been someone important enough for the winners to be looking for him for revenge so leaving the country might well be saving his skin.
The ship arrived in Braavos. The man was impressed. He was even more impressed when the man who called himself H’ghar took him to a large building and as they were let in it became plain that the man who called himself H’ghar was a person of importance here. He was made welcome, he was given good food; they’d not eaten well while travelling, he was given new clothing. His head was examined and treated.
The man who called himself H’ghar came into his room.
“I have an offer to make you”.
“Yes”.
“We are a religious order; if you agree to join us we will train you. You will live here under the protection of the order while you are training. No one from Westeros will come here and take you back, you will be completely safe. You will have a life with us for the rest of your days and it will never matter that you cannot remember who you were because here you are just ‘a man’ as am I”.
The man sat there for a few minutes, “Why not, what have I got to lose”.
“Nothing”.
And thus began the training of another man in the Order of Black and White.