The Forest Child {Sandor Clegane Story}

No One

"You cannot just take me. I have a master, he will kill me!" Natari struggled as the strange man pulled her through the streets towards the port.

"A girl has no master," he smiled as he forced her into a small rowing boat.

Natari wanted to run away but to where? She did not know what city was even in, and nothing could be as bad as the whore house. So finally she stopped struggling against the strange man and settled down as he rowed them away.

"What city is this?" She asked.

"A girl is in Bravoos."

"My name is Natari. Not girl!"

"A girl was once Natari Snow, but now she is no one."

"Yes I am!" she shot back.

Suddenly the man reached forward and grabbed hold of Natari's arms.

"If a girl wishes to live, she will become no one."

Slowly, he let go of her and return to rowing the boat. They soon arrived at a small island with only a large temple on its shore. Natari could still see the port behind her, but she felt safe from her master here.

"Why did you bring me here?" Natari asked as the approached the large black and white doors of the temple.

"Valar Morghulis," the man smiled and stepped inside the temple.

Slowly, Natari followed behind him. Inside, the temple was like none other she had seen before. It was extremely large, with the highest walls she had ever seen, other than the walls, and creepy sculptures which hung around the room. The place was dark, cold and damp and in the middle of the room, there was what seemed to be a large well.

"You will stay here, the priestess, The Waif will teach you the tongue of Bravoos. She will bring your food and you will sleep here, during the day you are to clean and learn to be no one," the strange man explained.

"Please, I just need to return to my homeland."

"A girl has no home," he replied in a flat tone before walking away and disappearing into the darkness.

Over the next week, the woman known as the The Waif, brought Natari her food and taught her a new tongue. Whenever she would pronounce something incorrectly, the priestess would hit her with a stick.

Natari had not seen the strange man since he had left her in the temple. Today, after her lessons and food, she was sweeping the floor when the strange man suddenly appeared. He carried another man, older and sickly to the well. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she watched as the strange man passed the sickly man a cup of water from the well. The sickly man then went to one of the statues to pray.

The strange man was still sat by the well and Natari took her chance to speak with him.

"I have been sweeping this floor for days!"

"Good," the man replied and looked up at her.

"Why did you bring me here. It cannot be to learn your tongue and sweep the floor. What do you want from me?".

Natari had to try and calm her mind, she didn't want to come off as desperate in front of the man.

"A girl had many enemies, many people have hurt and done her wrong. A girl wants to kill those who brought her pain."

"Yes, but how is this helping that?"

"A girl wishes to only serve herself then," he sighed and stepped up from the well.

"A girl wishes to be safe, to be in a position where no man could ever do her harm again. A girl wishes to be strong and brave!" Natari announced louder.

"A girl should learn to serve the many face god then. To serve the many, not just herself."

"Fine, but how? How do I do that?" She pleaded now as she reached out for the strange man and grabbed onto his arm.

"A girl must become no one," the strange man replied as he turned to her and looked down at her hand on his arm.

"Which one is he? The many-faced god?" She asked with a whisper and slowly moved her hand from the man to look at the statues around the room.

Slowly he began to walk closer to her and in return she stepped back until she was flush against the wall behind her. "There is only one god, a girl knows his name and all men know his gift," he whispered into her ear, spending a strange shiver throughout her entire body.

Over the next month, Natari spent her days learning and growing stronger. She was still expected to clean and serve, but the strange man had slowly given her more responsibility. The people who came to this temple, would drink the water from the well and then softly pass away. Natari would then clean the bodies and taking care of the dying.

One night as Natari slept restlessly in the private room they had given her, the strange man entered under candlelight. The noise of the door closing behind him woke her, but she felt no fear of the man and knew he had caused the noise to wake her.

"Who are you?" He asked as he sat at the other side of the room and watched as Natari sat up in bed.

"Natari," she replied.

"And where are you from?"

"Westeros," she answered.

The strange man stared intently at Natari until finally she became unnerved.

"I grew up in Winterfell believing I was the bastard daughter to Lord Stark. He was killed in Kings Landing though. My sister, well, cousins. I tried to save them, but I couldn't. I failed. I fell in love with a man unsuited for me. But I lost him too. I am... was slave, a whore, and now, now I am no one."

"Lies!" the strange man announced and slapped a long stick across her bare legs.

"You are still someone. You lie to yourself, to the many face god, to me. Does she truly want to be no one?"

"Yes," she hissed.

The strange name quickly slapped her legs again, but harder this time and she cried out.

"I am not playing this stupid game anymore!" she roared.

"We never stop playing!" the strange man replied.

Over and over they would go through this each night. As another month passed by, her legs never stopped stinging from the pain of the stick.

"I'm trying!" she hissed after another failed questioning.

"A girl does not try hard enough!" the man shot back.

Natari could suddenly take no more and quickly lay back in her bed, turning to face the wall, she pulled her legs up to her chest and sobbed.

"Does a girl wish to know a man's name?" He asked softly this time as she felt him sit in the bed next to her.

"I know already, you are no one," she grumbled.

"A man is called Jaqen H'Ghar".

Slowly Natari sat back up in the small bed and looked over at the man. "I don't understand."

"A girl will, but a girl cannot be no one when you still live as Natari Snow. A girl still wears her clothes and hold herself as her, weak and afraid."

Suddenly, Natari moved off the bed and stood in front of him. Gently, as he watched, she pulled the strings to the dress the master had made her wear. The thin piece of fabric slowly falling to the ground by her feet, leaving Natari stood naked. Taking a deep breath in, she then rolled back her shoulders and stands proud, no longer allowing herself to be scared or weak.

Surprisingly, she could see almost a shock in the eyes of the man sat in front of her. With her newfound strength, she took a step closer to Jaqen.

"A girl is no one," she whispered.