Chapter Sixty-seven: [Interlude] Naked Weapon (I)

You can enjoy more than twenty (20) chapters on my Patreon. You would help me a lot and I would appreciate it. Don't forget to change the @ to a regular A.

p@treon.com/Dreamer392

-----------------------

I appreciate the support, they are my motivation.

If you notice spelling or grammatical errors, don't hesitate to expose them.

Your ideas and constructive comments are welcome, I want fewer ghost readers and more readers who interact with the story to help me improve.

-----------------------

I found Ros in the series to be a worthy character, capable of navigating the treacherous waters of King's Landing. Although she is not a character from the books, I liked her creation for the series.

This time, I hope to do her character justice while also seeing more about the machinations occurring within Xandar, which, while a safe place for its citizens, is a very different matter for all those who don't enjoy that title. 

~~~Ros, eleventh moon, 276 AC~~~

~~~Wintertown~~~

"That's it; come on, bitch, hold on like a champ." The customer who had come today was one of those who wouldn't keep quiet; worse, they thought that hitting his waist harder with my buttocks would make me feel his little member more.

He was a piece of shit of a man, and he didn't even fuck well, such a waste of a man.

"Ahhh! Ohh yes," the idiot didn't even hold out for more than fifteen minutes and came, spilling his filthy seed inside me even after I told him not to. Now I had to drink the moon tea, that whitish stuff that tasted horrible.

Having finished my work, I grabbed my clothes and walked out of the soiled room toward the bathrooms to clean myself as much as I could.

"They are beautiful, and their hair is divine. I don't know what they wear, but I need the secret."

"I doubt they will pay any attention to you, and I understand none of them have wanted to go near the brothels since they arrived, even after more than a week has passed."

"Well, whether they want to or not, I'll take them to bed, or don't you think of the beautiful children we'd have? Besides that way, They would be forced to take me to Xandar with him. ."

Two companions from the brothel were already in the shared baths as they talked about the strangers from Essos—those men with tanned skin and long hair, strong and with a strange countenance and language.

They had come so far North because Lord Stark wanted a meeting with them.

"I'm afraid, girls, your fantasies will stay just as they are... Just fantasies," I told them. While I was a prostitute, I handled myself very well in the surroundings of the nobles who visited Winterfell, as well as with the servants and castle guards.

So, the news from across the Narrow Sea always reached my ears about how the people had enough food thanks to Lord Stark's agreements with Xandarian merchants through Lord Manderly.

And from what I had learned from them, they would not sleep with a prostitute from a town like this, even if they had not seen a woman on the moon.

It was initially somewhat disappointing to think that there were these men with new flesh, muscular, beautiful, and formidable warriors, but not being able to have them in bed. Mainly thanks to the rumors that spread throughout Wintertown.

One of the Xandarians had gotten a guard's daughter pregnant and had to marry her by order of his general, whatever that meant. It was his understanding that in Xandar, women enjoyed very high status as long as they achieved it on merit, so even though the woman the man impregnated was not from his home, he still had to marry her off due to the strange laws of the place he came from.

This, as if it had opened a door to the unknown, incited the women of the town to want to sleep with them so they could get pregnant and marry one of the Xandarians. This was the dream of many, especially because then they could leave here and live as queens in a new and rich place like Xandar.

However, their attempts had ended in strident failures, and many times, several women were flogged for tormenting outsider commanders and generals.

For my part, I had no choice but to give up the idea of having a Xandarian cock inside me and settle for the paltry coins I got after sleeping with these deplorable men.

So, without wasting any time, and after having carefully cleaned myself up and drinking my tea, I went to a room where a man was already waiting for me. He was fat, bald, and reeked of liquor—a pig from head to toe, and very soon, he would be all over me.

For the first few minutes, everything seemed to be on track, with me sucking on his member while he was too immersed in alcohol to even notice. It wasn't until I felt a stabbing pain in my hip that I anxiously got out of bed and checked myself.

The asshole had cut me with a knife. "Come on; it's just a little cut; let it go; that turns me on even more than your licking." The very faggot had the nerve to get out of bed and want to cut me again. Only taking advantage of his drunken state, I evaded the cut and ran to one of the night tables where I had a knife of my own.

"Don't even think about coming near me unless you want to end up dead," I said, hyperventilating and with a trembling pulse, unable to think clearly. However, the scene of the man retreating didn't happen; instead, he ran towards me with a dizzy step.

It all happened so fast that I didn't have time to think straight. One moment I was watching the man run towards me, and the next I was with the man in front of me, only having my knife in his gut. The man soon fell to the ground as blood gushed out of his mouth and belly while I was in shock at what had happened.

I knew I was in trouble; I could even end up dead if this came out, no one would believe me if I said he had attacked me first and I only defended myself, they would only see how a whore murdered a northern man.

The wound on my hip was still bleeding, but at this point, I no longer felt the pain of it; instead, my mind was racing a thousand ways to save myself from this.

After a few moments of thinking and calming down, I took the thick wool rug the man had fallen on and covered his body. Then, with great effort, I began to pull his body to the bed, where, with the help of my legs, I pushed the lump underneath it.

The bedsheets covered the ends of the bed and did not allow anyone to see the bulge; besides, the sheets were not changed daily, so there was no problem with that; the problem would be once the body started to stink and draw attention.

So I had to get away from here. I immediately got dressed and left the room in a hurry. When I got to my room, I took my saved coins and things and put them in a backpack.

The sooner I was farther away from here, the better it would be; unfortunately, no travelers were leaving town to the south or other parts of the North. Which made me despair prolonged.

Fortunately, as envoys of the gods, a large caravan of armed men was passing through the town's main road; they were coming from Winterfell, and from their banners, I gathered that they were the Essos outsiders.

With no other viable option, I ran as best I could, still with my wound on my hip throbbing but not bleeding from all the cloth I had bound myself in place, and arrived at where a beautiful carriage pulled by beautiful steeds was advancing.

The man in charge of the horses stopped the carriage, halting the convoy and causing the traffic to stop.

"Get out of the way, woman!" The man did not wait to show his displeasure with me, which was expected. "I need to get to White Harbor; I understand you are going there too; please, can I pay?"

I don't know if my beauty captivated him or if I just wanted to advance. All in all, the man let me get into his carriage, allowing me to escape. By the time the body was discovered, I would already be miles away from here.

------------

-------

~~~Second Moon, 277 AC~~~

From that day when I left Wintertown, I traveled with the Xandarian caravan to White Harbor, where one of them allowed me to board one of their vast ships and depart for Xandar.

The trip from White Harbor to Xandar took two moons at a strange speed, but as I had never boarded a ship before, I did not know how to gauge if the speed of these ships was fast.

After arriving in Xandar, my situation in the massive monstrosity of a city was a struggle. I looked for any job I could find just to get food and shelter.

My luck changed when I met Madame Fabiane, a woman of Lyseni descent. She ran almost half of all the love theaters within Zone Rosa, the area where most of the inns, theaters, party places, and acclaimed love theaters were located.

Prostitution within the borders of Xandar was forbidden; however, there was such a thing as being a call girl, a woman who was instructed on how to entertain a party while being taught about politics, economics, and everything else that Xandar's wealthy clients might need.

Where did I come into it? In that, I became one of Madame Fabiane's protégés, but I was not an escort; instead, I became an actress in the theaters of love.

While brothels or prostitutes were forbidden, it was not forbidden for someone to have sex. That loophole was exploited by Madame Fabiane, who bought establishments and turned them into strange salons, where men or women would visit, sit in comfortable chairs, and watch on a dais as two or more people had sex.

Although, at first, it was a bit ugly to have sex in front of hundreds of people, the pay and the good deals I was offered made my job acceptable, and many people began to want to approach me to spend an afternoon with me.

Unfortunately, I could not enjoy any of their outings, all because what we did was not only to have sex in the theaters or be ladies in waiting but also to be the naked weapons of Madame Fabiane, who was paid by the nobles of the city to eliminate people who were not Xandarians, which, although the laws 'took care' of them, did not make investigations if one of them was dead.

It was there that my sisters introduced themselves as Madame Fabiane's naked dolls, women trained in the art of murder without any need for a weapon, able to kill with only their hands.

And I, Ros of the North, would do my first job tomorrow, depending on whether I would become a naked doll of Madame Fabiane.