A/N: So...as stated in the summary, this is a one-shot that explores what might have happened at the end of chapter 42 of my story Ice and Fire if Jaqen had done what Arya had asked of him. This will make more sense if you have the context of that story before you read this, but in case you haven't, I included the directly pertinent parts from the end of the aforementioned chapter at the beginning of this in italics. Also, if you're one of those people who likes song recommendations for stories, this was heavily inspired by the song Outside by The Weeknd. And now, here's your warning. This is not sweet, cute, love making. It's desperate, slightly-angry fucking. If that's not something you want to read, thanks for the visit, but this isn't for you. Thank you to my sister GrowlingPeanut for all her support and for convincing me to start writing again. Reviews are appreciated.

Disclaimer: A Song of Ice and Fire belongs to George R. R. Martin and the Elder Scrolls franchise is owned by Bethesda Softworks. I only own the situation.

"Could you...be...him? Just for a night?"

"A girl does not know what she asks," he murmured. "It is not Jaqen H'ghar that she seeks."

His hands roamed from her waist to her breasts, to the tips of her ears and Arya let her head fall back as his hot breath caressed the skin of her exposed neck. Her legs spread instinctively to welcome his touch, but his fingers remained above her hips, his lips always inches above her skin. "Please..." she whimpered, arching her back so her bare skin met his. Not unresponsive to her plea, his mouth moved to hover above hers and her eyelids fluttered apart to meet the ice blue eyes that gazed down at her as she breathed his name against another man's lips. "Vilkas...please..."

Her words were swallowed by a forceful kiss and two sharpened canines sunk into her bottom lip, drawing blood, salty and intoxicating as it met her tongue. A moan tore from her throat, raw and feral in the oppressive silence of the room. Broad, muscular shoulders tensed as her nails found purchase and a deep growl met her cry of pleasure.

"Vilkas..." She hissed between clenched teeth, arching high off the bed as he left a vicious mark against the spot where her pulse pounded out the frantic beating of her heart. "Oh gods..."

Without warning, his weight lifted from her chest and Arya opened her eyes to see her lover crouched between her thighs, his pale blue eyes burning with desire. She felt a shiver wrack her trembling frame as their eyes met and she wordlessly tangled her fingers in his thick, dark hair, drawing him in.

The sounds of her breathy moans filled the room as he lapped obediently at her slick folds, bringing her swiftly to her end as she spasmed beneath him, his name chanted like an anthem at the height of her pleasure.

As her grip on his head loosened, the animalistic gleam in his eyes returned and he dragged his dripping fangs across the apex of her thighs, making her cringe and squirm away, her body shaking with the painful aftershock. The bruising grip of his strong hands on her hips kept her from escaping and he drew her back again, burying his nose in between her legs and inhaling the musky scent of her arousal as she swore under her breath.

When she looked down at him, her eyes were hazy and unfocused, and he reveled in the fact that he was the one reducing her to this state, no matter what lies the illusion was making her believe.

"Come here," she murmured softly, tugging weakly at one of his scarred biceps. Silently, he acquiesced, but when she drew him in for a tender kiss, he tore himself away, drawing his mouth down to her still heaving breasts. "Vilkas..." It was almost a whine, but when his tongue teased her nipple to a hardened peak, she sighed and buried her hands back in his hair.

Her hips bucked against the knee he had pressed against her center and her grey eyes fluttered closed as she succumbed to the sensations skittering down the length of her taut frame. A hiss of pain escaped her swollen lips as his teeth grazed her nipple, but she made no move to push him away, instead arching further toward him.

He lost himself in the sounds of her gasps and whines as she squirmed against him, and when she mustered what little strength she had regained and flipped him onto his back, he let out a groan of his own, gripping her hips possessively as she straddled his muscular thighs.

"Arya..."

Something that looked almost like doubt flashed in her eyes at the sound of her name, and she stared down at him for a moment, but it disappeared just as quickly as she brought her mouth to his. She sucked his tongue roughly between her lips and reached a hand down between them to grasp him firmly as he bucked impatiently against her.

"Sweet Sith—" He cut himself off harshly as the Dread Father's name flew from his lips and turned the uttered syllable into a hiss as Arya moved her hand along his length. Taking control, the petite Nord lifted herself slightly before sliding down onto him, tearing strangled moans from them both. The pace she set was hard, without being rough; fast, without seeming desperate.

Struggling to maintain the illusion, he let her lead, focusing his efforts on staying in control of himself and not losing himself inside the beautiful woman above him.

Arya kept her eyes on his face as she rode him, bracing her hands against his broad shoulders and breathing heavily through flared nostrils. Once or twice she bent down as if to kiss him and his lips parted instinctively, but she drew away each time, a shadow of uncertainty hiding behind the lust in her eyes.

When her rhythm faltered, he switched their positions, taking control as her slender legs wrapped themselves tightly around his waist and she closed her eyes to avoid his piercing gaze. It wasn't long before her body tensed beneath his and a strangled sob escaped her lips as a single tear freed itself from her lashes and rolled down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Vilkas..." Her inner walls fluttered around him and she clung desperately to his shoulders as he pulled out to spill himself across her stomach, crying out with a sound that released her pent-up grief and frustration as it mingled with the pleasure coursing through her body. "I loved you! Gods damn it, I loved you!"

Finally allowing herself to cry, she rolled away and curled into a ball, sobbing loudly into the heavy silence of the room.

Wordlessly, he removed himself from her side and redressed before making his way to the door at the other side of the room. She remained turned away, and so it was with the pale, cold eyes of her former lover that she last saw him, and not the deep blue ones that cast her one final glance before leaving her behind forever.