No one
No one had been cleaning bodies and disposing of them for a few days, there had been no names given to the faceless god meaning No one had nothing to do but help the others. He ran a damp cloth over the arm of the corpse wiping away the dirt that had plagued its skin, he slowly continued to clean the body until it was ready to be taken to the next room by the other faceless helpers, the door stood at the end of the room full of mysteries and darkness. He did not care what happened to the bodies as he had learned that No one didn't ask questions and didn't need an answer as they see everything and nothing. He ignored the disciple that took the body both sharing a stoic expression, he had come accustomed to there coldness and grown to like it.
He looked to the door that brought in the bodies and waited patiently until a next body came in but there was no such look. He stayed there until he realized there was not going to be another body. He couldn't help but think of the men and women had killed in the past, he had been a little hesitant at first not being able to get past the honour he had followed his whole life as Jon Snow. After the first year, he had felt nothing about taking a life, merely anxious to finish the job.
No one walked out of the room where he had cleaned the dead corpses and walked through the halls of the house, he walked to the hall of faces looking at each of the faces. There faces where lifeless, eyes closed, nothing behind them excepts the old stone in which they had been placed to keep them fresh and ready for use for the likes of him. He passed each row thinking about what each person had done or why they would want to allow there faces to be used by the faceless men but he knew he would not understand their motives because he had grown up differently and had only served the many faced god for four years.
"A man is brooding" No one heard as he turned to see another one of the many-faced gods disciple with similar roed to his, his hair was brown with a white strand at the front of his hair. "A man thinks of his old life." He moved towards him as he spoke his hands clasped together in front of him but hidden by his long-sleeved robes. His voice was stable and flat and lacking the subtle human emotion.
"A man thinks of the faces." The man watched him carefully but nodded, No one knew that he could tell when he was lying but he had got good at deceiving people ever since he had completed his training. "Is there another name to be given to the many faceed god?" He asked the man only nodded and stepped forward so he was at arm's length away from him, his blank face giving nothing away.
"The many faced god requires a name known to Jon Snow, a name known to a man." No one nodded excepting what it might mean, he was not Jon Snow anymore and he did not care for the things or the people he once did. He was No one and No one had no family or people who love him he is but a servant in the bigger picture. "The name is Daenerys Targaryen." The mad turned away from him disappearing into the corridor. No one's heart started to pound he had not heard the name in many years.
He first thought of who could have given her name as he had heard how the people loved her and how the Kingdom was in peace he couldn't think as to why anyone would want her dead. He knew it had to be someone closest to her, which meant she was in danger from all sides, he knew he wasn't Jon Snow anymore but he knew he needed to protect her in homage of the memories of the man he used to be. No one knew that leaving would put him in danger and the many faced god would take her name if it was not him taking it, it would be his many other willing disciples, more ruthless then himself.
No-one needed to act quickly and quietly, No-one looked at the wall of faces in front of him an idea forming in his mind. He searches the walls looking for suitable faces for where he was going, he needed to stay in the shadows and not be recognized and using the faces will help him achieve this. He took the faces and went back to his room keeping at a normal pace to not attracted suspicion from the others.
Once he reached the safe confines of his small cold room he opened the bag that lies under his bed, full of clothes and disguises that he had acquired over the years. He took out a pair of breachers and a plain cotton tunic and put them on, he needed to leave but he couldn't be seen, he decided in using one of the faces he acquired from the hall. He put it on and felt his form change, he was taller, his hair shorter, and beard longer. He took in a deep breath trying to become accustomed to his new body, he felt this way every time he put on a new face even after all his training.
He put on a robe over his clothes, keeping them hidden from prying eyes, he felt them everywhere even when he was in his room alone, he felt like someone was watching him and it made him anxious and nervous. No-one put up his hood and exited his room, his bag strapped securely to his side. He stepped out into the dark hallway and made his way quietly to one of the many secret exits that led to the city, the tunnel was dark and damp but it was the only exit that led to the docks.
He took off his robe and dropped it on the floor leaving it to float in the ankle-high water. He didn't care about the discomfort that came from his soggy boots, he had been put through many bad situations whilst he was in Braavos and in his old lives, so much so that even the worst things didn't get a reaction out of him. He stretched his arms out and brushed his hands over the stone moist walls of the tunnel, using his fingers to guide him through the pitch black tunnel. The sound of water swishing under his feet whilst his laboured breaths echoed around him.
Once he finally reached the end of the tunnel No-one swiftly made his way to the docks, heading for the captain he knew would take him to Westeros. He didn't know if he was ready to face his past and didn't know how he would react to seeing his family once again. No-one thought back to what the children of the forest had told him, it was the only thing that helped stop him from wanting to make contact with his family, it was the only reason he had become No-one in the first place, to protect his family from him.
Tyrion
Tyrion had been seeing to the day to day runnings of the Seven Kingdoms, Daenerys involving herself whenever she could. She was a great queen and the people loved her especially knowing she helped defeat the Night King and put an end to Cerci's rule. She had broken the wheel and brought peace to the seven Kingdoms, she had done all the things she had set out to do and what most people dreamed of doing.
He noticed how different her grace had become after the death of Jon Snow, she was reclusive and much sadder, the only thing that made that sadness disappear was the sight of her wild daughter Lyanna. She was learning how to use a sword and to horse ride at her mother request. Tyrion had also witnessed her ride Drogon next to her mother, it was a sight to behold. Tyrion had become less involved with wine and women and more involved with the realm, he and Varys had listened to the people and help rebuild the seven kingdoms.
He walked through the halls of the red keep making his way towards the small council chambers for their annual meeting, him as hand, Ser Jorah as Lord commander of the queens guard, Lord Varys as the master of whispers, Missandie as master of coin, Jamie as master of war, Grand Master Lyken and her Grace. He walked through the throne room, scoffing at the throne, he hated it and hated walking past it but he liked the chase and the game for the throne. He walked into the council chambers and was greeted by the other council members, he sat on the other side from her Grace who sat at the head of the table with her hands clenched and resting on the table.
Tyrion greeted the members and sat in his seat giving the signal for her grace to start. "What whispers do your little birds bring, Lord Vayrs?" There was not much else to discuss other then what had been going on in the realm, he noticed how much Daenerys enjoyed hearing about the people and liked to stay informed about them.
"Nothing much in the seven kingdoms your grace, but their have been strange reports from Braavos your grace." Daenerys gestured for him to continue and Tyrion watched as Lord Varys leaned forward. "The faceless men are searching the city looking for a traitor, they say he took some of the faces and left." Tyrion wondered how he was able to get such information on the faceless men being that they were very secretive and well hidden. He also wondered what would possess a man to steal from the most dangerous assassins in the world, he was either dumb or extremely clever, he didn't know which yet.
"Do you know who the man is or what he looks like? We can have people search for him and then have him sent back the house of black and white for judgment." Daenerys said, Tyrion knew how dangerous it could be for the seven Kingdoms to have a faceless man travelling freely, Just look at what Arya did to the Frey's and she didn't even complete her training. "This could be bad, very bad," Daenerys stated as if reading his mind.
"Yes, your grace but there was nothing that could be done, we don't know what the person looks like, he is a faceless man, no one, he could be anywhere." Lord Varys said, he seemed as scared as Tyrion but he knew that the faceless men wouldn't kill anyone without a cause it was a code among the faceless men. They don't take a life when it is not needed, and who said there was no honour amongst murderers. "I think it would be best if her Grace leaves the capital. Go to Winterfell and take Lyanna with you and go and see the Starks. It would be the perfect placed to be." Lord Varys stated, Tyrion could see it was a good idea, but he also knew it would be hard for Daenerys to go back there again.
"I will think about this. If you will excuse me." Daenerys said as she stood up her chair scraping against the floor she walked out of the room worry written on her face, but he knew she was going to Lyanna to find comfort in her daughter. He had noticed she would do that whenever she was overwhelmed or sad and he wished he had the same escape goat but life was cruel and left the poor dwarf alone and craving solace in wine and women.
Tyrion felt the loss of Jon Snow as much as anyone he had come to care for him and see him as a dear friend, he had been devastated when he heard the news of his death, and so did so many others. The queen seemed to be the one who took it the worst and wouldn't come out her room or eat in the days after. She finally realized what she was doing to herself and her child and she was suddenly the women he remembered once again.
Tyrion sighed to himself and walked to his chambers, he looked to the pitcher laying on his desk. He hadn't drank in a while and felt like he deserved it. He walked over to the old wooden table his feet clicking on the wooden floor. He reached over to the cup waiting there for him, the mettle cold from lack of use its smooth exteria shining making it even more appealing to him. Daenerys had told him once of the story of Jon and hers last day. Jon had been drinking and Dany often blames herself and says if she hadn't pushed him away he would have never drank and he would have never died. He remembered the tension between the monarchs but they soon resolved it. Though Daenerys says that they waisted time and she never forgave herself.
He shook his head and put the cup back down, deciding against the drink. "Damn you Jon Snow"