Ros the Whore

I have a huge lab practical exam tomorrow (in which I have to know all of the human and cat muscles, plus their insertion, origin, action, etc.) and then another exam for the lecture portion of my summer class this Thursday. So I likely won’t be able to write much until after that! Please be patient with me!! I’ll be back and at it soon. 

          Disappointed her search for Petyr turned up empty,                                                                  she’d been wanting to ask him if he was any closer                                                                                  to getting her out of here even if he’d told her to be patient.                                                                        She wanted to go home. She spotted one of his whores leaving                                                                one of many rooms in the castle and approached her.                                                                                She’d seen her before in Winterfell to but of course never                                                                        spoke to her. She was after all a … whore. Only now Sansa                                                                      felt bad for judging her. ‘’ Excuse me?. ‘’ She spoke softly                                                                       ‘’ Have you seen Lord Baelish? ‘’ she asked in a hush tone. 

        She was obviously a Lady, gentle-born. A twinge of recognition flashed in Ros’ mind, though she couldn’t quite place it. Certainly, it would come to her... “Are you sure you’re not lost, my Lady?” asked Ros after a pause, her dark eyes locked on the girl. She never knew exactly what Petyr was up to, and she never questioned it. That was the safest way. Still, she couldn’t help but to be somewhat curious. 

         “Lord Baelish isn’t currently here, sweetling. Though I can tell him that you were here.”

     ❝ Tomorrow. I wouldn’t have made it if you weren’t to begin immediately. ❞ How daft had she been? DOUBLE the coin and whatever she had wanted would have made any whore beg to begin immediately – - yet here she asked when he wanted her to start. He carefully pushed her off his chest so he could have some of his personal space back, and he twisted a thick arm behind his head for rest once more. ❝ I’ve got training all this week, and training means I am STRESSED and will require extra attention. You want your double coin, then you’ll make sure that I get it. ❞ && he had no doubt that she would perform well ;; she’d done just fine every previous time he had come to visit her. 

     Once the finer details of it had been set in stone, and the wine was sitting pleasantly in his stomach, he let the idea of her trying to yield a sword grace his mind. It was not a PLEASANT sight ;; in fact, it was a horrible attempt  – she had weak and thin arms, barely useful for sword yielding, and all he could picture was her trying to take a generous swing and being met with a face full of mud. The thought brought some form of a raspy chuckle to his lips – but it was met with silence soon after. 

       Ros’ smile widened marginally at his words, nodding after a brief moment in agreement. “Fine, tomorrow it is, then,” she said as she allowed herself to settle down on the opposite side of the bed. “I would hate for you to be stressed,” she added with a wink in his direction. “I suppose I’ll see what exactly I can do for such an affliction... I’m sure I can figure out something.” No man had ever exactly walked away from Ros unsatisfied -- that was something she could pride herself on, at least. Gods knew she had enough experience over the years...

        “What I do can also be quite extensive,” said Ros after a pause, raising an eyebrow as she spoke. “I’m sure I’d be able to rise to the occasion.” Then, with a smirk, the whore continued. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that I can be quite the sword-wielder as it is, in my own way. So even if I can’t handle a full sized sword, at least I can console myself there.” Ros chuckled at this and offered the scarred man a wink, resting back into the sheets as she spoke, her voice lilting.

        “But I’m sure, if given a good enough reason, I could always find it in me to leave this place. Speaking on your deal, I can also come to you, if you’ve got the extra coin. Just a thought to keep in mind.” Smirking at this, Ros stretched and slinked from the bed, glancing back over her shoulder at him as she made her way to the jug of wine on the nearest table. 

         brienne opens her mouth to try && say something —— likely a counter declining ros’ offer —— but before she can even get a word out, ros is pulling on her arm, tugging her towards the entrance to the brothel. she lifts her chin && hides her grimace, as though sensing just how much corruption is happening behind those solid walls. she has never been any place like it before, yet she thinks she can already hear the sounds of the others && their patrons. in her stomach twists a knot of uncertainty && doubt. she does not belong inside those walls, does not think she should witness anything that goes on, does not think her presence will be welcomed. a woman with armor will be a strange sight; it will raise questions she does not wish to answer && rumors which she does not wish to face.

Eyes shifting back towards the woman begrudgingly trailing behind her, Ros chuckled to herself briefly before turning her eyes forward once again. Who didn’t like a challenge? Of course, if the woman decided in the end that she still didn’t want to, Ros wouldn’t hold it against her. The least she could do would be to try, however. “Tell me, Lady Brienne. Are you traveling through this place alone? Do you have lodging?” Small talk would perhaps warm her up to the idea, and perhaps a warm meal as well. 

        “So, how much for a night with a pretty young thing like yerself? I know I may not look’it, but I’m good company.” 

     His eyes narrowed and he tossed his towel over the small table to the left, hands working at the laces of his breeches. ❝ You drank nearly all of my fucking wine, ❞ he reminded her, and he kicked his trousers aside. ❝ Drank ALL of my fucking wine, then passed out in my bed, snored and kept me up all night, and now you’re taking up my damn tub. Move over. ❞ He let out a huff of disbelief as he shoved his way into the tub, long legs bent at the knee. He noticed her momentary discomfort with the lack of space, and he rolled his eyes – ❝ if you wanted your own bath, you should’ve gone back to the house, then. Hand me that soap. Head hurt?❞

At his question, however, the whore scowled and sank further down into the water after handing over the aforementioned soap. “Just a tad,” the whore admitted after a pause, one eye cracking open to study the scarred man across from her. “How’s your head. Don’t tell me you’re perfectly fine after all of that wine...”

             Ros found herself intrigued by this woman, beyond the fact of wanting gold from her business. Part of the woman wondered briefly what the woman would be like, in truth... Perhaps she could treat it as something of a challenge. That, and perhaps it would allow the woman to loosen up, in a sense. Ros had seen what a life of hurt could like, and Brienne seemed to be no stranger to it, judging on another easy glance towards the woman’s face. Raising an eyebrow as she did not remove Ros’ hand - though her fingers moved to grasp her wrist - the whore left it there for only a brief moment more, feeling the muscles and the ligaments tighten under the flesh there. Dropping the hand to the woman’s shoulder, Ros smiled and stood on her toes to place her lips near Brienne’s ear, speaking softly. “Why don’t you come inside at the least, my Lady? You can think about it. I could perhaps get you a drink. Maybe a warm meal?” At this, Ros’ lips lingered briefly on the woman’s cheek before her feet returned to solid ground.