Epilogue:

Initially, Arya wanted to lie down and give up; die…like she should've done in the car crash. But the girl stubbornly refused because the assassin had saved her to begin with and dying would be abandoning him entirely.

Some nights, she could swear that she heard his voice, a murmur, somewhere in her apartment. Turning on every light, the television and pushing her earbuds in with the volume turned up still didn't allow the girl to escape Jaqen's ghost; it caressed her shoulders when she pulled the towel across her skin to dry off after a quick shower and stroked her fingertips when Arya reached for a steak knife to carve an apple.

"Don't ask me where I've been or what I've been through," she rasped. Arya knew that she probably looked as desperate as she felt by the look on Gendry's face. He had found her sitting on his bed, as if it were her proper place.

Gendry had secrets of his own, though he didn't even seem to know what exactly they were.

There were nights when he just held her while she wept, knowing that there was nothing he could ever do to absolve her from whatever sin she continually ran from. The days when she clutched the rifle scope and remained wordless were the worst.

It was a pain like none he had ever known, as he watched his apprentice press into the arms of the dark haired man; her eyes examining her lover as if he was her salvation. This was his goodbye, this secret observation, to confirm that the House had, indeed, released her.

"Too willful," was the Elder's only explanation. Jaqen remained hidden as he watched Arya and the tall man move further away from his spot, aching to reveal himself but not willing to pay the consequences of interference. "You may see that my words are true, but you will cause her final demise should you interfere."

Arya threw back her head and laughed at something the man next to her said. "Oh, were that laugh for me, my lovely girl."

There were times when she tricked herself into believing that she had seen Jaqen in a crowd or the faint smell of cloves would render her mute. Some days, she would even forgive herself for killing him.

"More courage than sense," the wind would whisper. But even Arya Stark did not have enough courage for complete happiness.

Haunted - Evanesence

A/N: Thanks for hanging around to the end of this journey! I refuse to apologize for the ending my story; although the characters all belong to GRRM, this telling is all mine. And if you get a little angsty over implied character death and unhappy endings, you need to read the books and have your heart ripped out and then stomped on.