[ Requested By @WintersLady ]
The docks were relatively quiet this evening- at least, in comparison to the levels of life and vigour that they normally produced. You were unsurprised by this, since all the main trades had come in to Braavos yesterday and the days prior, and today was simply a day for Sunday fishmongers to set out their nets, and the occasional merchant to prepare his Monday stalls; you were none of those things. You were a nobody on these lands- a recent castaway from King's Landing, finding refuge in the back of a ship rather than in the stringy noose of The Butcher's Stand, infamous hangman spot for low-lying traitors and unwanted bastards; you fell under the second category.
Your white dress was far from glimmering- it was stained and rimmed with black soil, greyed from wear. Over the top of that, you had a thin, scratchy black woollen cardigan, and some oaken leather flats, with the soles worn so thin that you may as well have taken the shoes off- in fact, you had considered it several times, but feared it might look queer. You kept your h/c shaded hair out of your face with a steel brooch in the shape of a flower, a mockery of a gift presented to you by your snide mother a couple of years ago to taunt you of your "title".
All in all, you were nothing special. You meant nothing to anybody, and you hardly remembered those you had left behind. None of them cared, so why should you? All anybody ever provided was almost two decades of constant torment and nagging; here you could be free, as long as you had deft fingertips and slick feet.
Hungrily, you eyed the food stalls being prepared for the next day- your evening meal relied on your timing, here. You walked along, running a thumb reassertively along the inside lining of your dress's recently custom fitted pockets. Before you were three stalls- fruit, dairy and wheat, and fish. If you weaved between, as they approached their wagons, you may be able to slip some wares into your large pockets unnoticed... but as you reached the end, it would be a close call bargaining with Lady Luck:
You were willing to risk it.
Idly, you made your way closer, the large cobbled pavements beneath your feet digging in to their soles, providing occasional jabs of pain- you had been walking all day, trying to find some stalls or unguarded stores in the lower part of the big city- you weren't going to throw away this opportunity not to starve for the night.
You felt a prickling sensation on the back of your neck, but played it off to the wind, not noticing the observant eyes digging in to the back of your head from an alley close by. As you approached the first stall, the shadows flickered as an unseen figure shuffled their stance, watching this pretty lady with a keen eye and a questioning mind.
Your hand reached out and danced across the stall's wooden edge, sliding in and snatching up a glinting green apple with precision, and not a second glance. You quickened your pace by a few metres, reaching the second cart as it's flabby own leant over a wagon and began scooping up armfuls of bread- you had pocketed a lump of golden cheese and a small loaf of crusty tiger bread before he had even begun to balance himself up straight again.
Finally, the fishmonger. You were slightly more cautious of him; he had a wiry look about him, and his stall was further separated than the others. As you headed towards the stall, his eyes immediately turned to you, and you felt discomfort in that immediately accusatory and untrusting glare. You couldn't walk past his stall, you'd have to... well, stall for time. Turning as smoothly as you could, you headed down towards the docks and walked to the edge of one, planting yourself down upon the ground and allowing your small legs to dangle over the edge as you stared into the royal blue waters.
As you squandered time, you observed your hands, and noticed how grubby they had become, and so you leant forward, dipping the edges of your fingertips into the water and allowing the waves to swallow in your hands, cleansing them. As you finished, you scraped your hands against your dress with little care for it's possible staining- it was already mucky enough as it was, and yet it suited you just as well. You looked across at the fishmonger, having not observed him for several minutes, and saw that he had gone over to his cart and just pulled out a checklist- whatever he was doing, it would take time.
You rose, and remaining as unnoticeable as you could, slipped back up the dock and continued walking, heading now towards his stand, as the lanky skeleton of a man counted out his fish, with a more laid back stance than he had previously held. It was vaguely disconcerting, but didn't put you off your task. You sped your pace now to a skip, and reached the cart, gentle fingertips reaching out and gripping a fish-
Only to be grabbed by a wily hand. You looked up, face lacking of colour as your e/c eyes slowly opened and your pupil retracted to see you had been caught by the fishmonger, his expression grave, and... melting.
Melting.
His face... dissipated. And was replaced with another. A man with long, unkempt brown hair and a rugged expression loomed down upon you, with a smirk, "You should be careful; you are not the only person that can hide their intentions with false actions."
You were slightly frightened of this man, but would not let it show through, and instead narrowed your eyes, brow lowering as a scowl melded your expression, "You aren't the fishmonger, this isn't your stall, so you can't call me out for stealing- so let me go." You murmured,
"But you were stealing. And I could inform the authorities, or become the fishmonger, and take you to them myself. Or you could do the man a favour, and walk with him."
He had a point- if he could become someone else, who knew what else he could do? You noticed the warmth glowing off of his hand, and the partial thrill you gained from this abnormal experience. Analysing his expression, you found his mysterious outlook vaguely appealing... no. What were you thinking? The man was blackmailing you into giving him favours, it was like selling your soul to the devil-
"Fine." You huffed, retracting your hand with the fish still clenched in it and shoving it into your pocket, before returning it to cross your chest along with your other arm. He simply nodded, then beckoned you, and began to walk at a quick pace away from the docks.
You followed behind the man awkwardly, pockets heavy with picked food, and watched him idly from behind. He had an athletic structure, and was well built- you gave up trying to deny it, he was definitely attractive. And his tone... it confused you. You would have to ask, but not yet.
After several minutes of walking, you passed under a bridge and came to a door, violet thick shadows from above descending upon it to provide a gloomy appearance. Here, he turned to you, and simply looked for a minute, taking you in. You thought you detected a falter in his brow; some confusing, for just a moment- why? There were so many mannerisms, so many questions running through your head right now,
"If you want to live a life off of the streets- if you want to start your life refreshed, and yet live no life at all, then come to these doors tomorrow, in the evening as the sunsets. I will be here, inside. All you have to do is knock." He spoke flatly, about to retreat into the doors, when without thought you reached out and grabbed his arm, pink creeping into your cheeks from your own impulsive action,
"Ah- wait!... I have some questions-"
"Then a three questions for three questions. Your first question." He quickly responded, halting still,
"Why did you refer to yourself as 'The Man' instead of a real name?" You began, asserting your tone with confidence,
"I am no-one. My question- what is your name, girl?"
"Y/N Flowers."
"A bastard girl of Westeros?"
You flinched at his bluntly stated inquisition, but confirmed it with a short nod,
"My second question, then... how did you become that fish merchant? How did you take his looks and then... just become you again? are you the fishmonger?"
"One question- the answer is you will find out if you return here tomorrow."
"You didn't give me a full answer!" You complained with frustration evident in your tone, and he chuckled, "You requested to ask questions, you never said I had to answer them in full depth. At least I am being true. My next question- why did you come to Braavos?"
"It's a long story." You replied briefly, playing him at his own game with a glint of mischief in your eye. His smirk faltered,
"Why did you take me here? And I mean... why me? If you understand."
He paused with this question, rather than providing his normal quick fire responses, but finally answered, "You... are talented. I saw in you the potential to become what I believe you might become. Which leads to my final question..."
He took a single, large step forward, and you realised with some embarrassment that you were still gripping his arm absently, but you were too tense to release it. His face drew close to yours, and the look in his eyes alternated from playful to dangerous, as he started intently, and directly into your own, reaching out into your soul, as it seemed, "Would you be prepared to become no-one?"
You became lost in the moment, thinking deep on this as you also let your eyes soak in his hardened face. Gathering the courage, words finally rolled off of your tongue, "Yes... if it were possible. I would love to be stripped of my identity, to become nobody. But a Bastard's taint is a weary taint, and it can't be removed by papers; you can't take away someone's identity-"
Your words were stolen by the heat of parted lips breathing, and their touch thereafter, yet as you realised what was happening, it was over just as quick,
"Most things are an illusion. We can create ideas by planting certain thoughts into people's heads, and just as easily remove them. Only those that chase those ideas, maintain them." He finished, and before you could say any more, he had disappeared behind the iron doors.
You would be there tomorrow- you could count on it.
A/N: this is the first of the next few one shots of my return <3 two little things, by the way:
Firstly, I was thinking of doing another writing piece, but I dont know what to do, so I wanted to ask you guys what sort of things you'd like to read. A GoT Fanfiction? Some general work you'd like me to apply my writing skills to? General one shots? Even Q&As for GoT characters? Just comment what you might want me to write :)
And finally... I automatically write from the perspective of female characters. If you want me to do a specific gender, just let me know in the description. I was just thinking about it and I was worried in case any males decide to request and I write from a female perspective, it wouldn't be pleasing to them. Nonetheless, it's a rare thing to happen