The man who sat opposite Arya stark was Jaqen H'ghar, well at least he wore his face.
The floor was cold and highly uncomfortable and kneeling on it for multiple hours was bound to leave painful marks. But Arya barely moved, didn't speak unless spoken to.
"What is your name?" Jaqen said stoically.
"No one."
The stick lashed out quickly and mercilessly, striking the young girl's face accurately. A sickening crunching sound echoed in the cold and dark room.
"I'm not lying!"
"Who are you?"
"No one!"
The stick cracked against Arya's face again and she reeled back howling.
"A girl lies." said Jaqen, still standing motionless and looking down at Arya.
Arya spat blood on the hard floor and raised herself again, her eyes burning in rage.
"Fine!" she said viciously, "My name is Arya Stark of Winterfell, youngest daughter of Eddard Stark former hand of the king and warden of the north."
Jaqen smiled and lifted himself from his previous seating position to stand.
Arya watched him leave the room in silence and cursed in her head again. Why did she always let him win?
She crawled to her uncomfortable bed and curled up into a ball.
She wished she could see Will again. She pictured his face with stunning blue eyes and sandy hair.
She cried and cried.