Thread: A Rose in the Snow (heartlesskitten x Rivine)

The weather was cooler than in the Rills but Riyana Rysell had grown used to wearing leather armor and bulky wool tunics and pants and was warm enough. Her short sword was at her side and she flexed her fingers in the leather gloves she wore most of the time. On the journey, she had sold her fine grey palfrey for a shaggy thick necked garron and much needed supplies as well as the dark clothing and armor she would need once she took the Black. As she came around the corner to the stable she heard her little horse snorting with agitation. Brydan Rivers, as she was known now, slowed and crept quietly up, reaching into her pocket and slipping the jawbreaker onto her hand. She had picked up the habit of using the iron studded leather strap around her knuckles from a southern born squire that served one of the knights of her father. There in the dim light of the stable was a skinny dark haired boy picking through her saddle. He was a scabby whore's son, halfway to becoming a whore himself, and certainly fully to being a cutpurse by now. He was scrawny but taller than the young woman and did not look up when Riyana stepped on light feet into the stall. He might have been thirteen and despite the thiefs mischief she did not want to put a blade to him. I suggest you put back what you have stolen, she said in an even tone, keeping her voice low pitched and smoke soft to hide the feminity. Her face was fair with a light spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, her firm cleft chin and clear jawline lent some conviction to her disguise. The boy looked up and sneered her, slipping something into his pocket. He spat at her feet and kept his hand in his pocket. Riyana watched him nonchalantly, her gloved hand tightening to a fist, gripping the jawbreaker. I ain't stolen anything, just taking care of these horses, so be on with you, ginger he said. You are not the stable boy I paid to handle my horse and you are rummaging through my saddle, Riyana replied. I give you one more chance to put back what you stole or you will pay the consequences. The whore's son laughed, sizing up the small shaggy haired boy. He looked older than him but it was hard to tell how strong he was under the heavy clothing. Riyana looked at him, her bright blue eyes flashing slightly and watched as the other boy brought back his hand out of his pocket. He had a small club, perfect for knocking someone over the head but better if that person was taken by surprise. Riyana moved fast for someone so heavily clothed and grabbed the boy's arm as he tried to bring it down on him with his greater reach. The boy blinked, a dumb, ox-eyed expression of uncertainty and the girl struck him in the jaw with the iron studded strap and then hit him twice more in the face, quick short jabs. The whore's son fell down, his eyes glazed and rolling back. He dropped the club and Riyana kicked it away. I warned you, she drew her sword and held it at the boy's neck. Take out what you stole. The boy tried to rise but fell back down and Riyana grunted, sheathing her sword and squatted down to pick the pockets of the thief. She pulled out some of the dried food and a flint striker along with a spare dagger. She raised her finely arched eyebrow at the knocked out boy. This was worth a beating? Gods help you, Riyana shook her head and put the items back in her saddle. She grabbed the boy by the ankles and dragged him across the cold ground to the small shack lit with a red lantern that was beside the stable. It was the entrance to the brothel, one she had been shocked to find out serviced men of the Wall and it was one of many disheartening facts she was learning about the present state of the Night's Watch. Riyana dropped him at the doorstep of the brothel and knocked on the door. A pretty dark haired woman answered and looked at the boys. She sighed and motioned for him to be brought in. Riyana hesitated, Dallin had warned her about entering any sort of brothel or place where men would expect to use a woman but she did not want to leave the thief laying there in the street. That is my nephew, what did he take? the woman asked as she pulled him into the room. He stole from my saddlebags but I recovered it, only after I had to do that, she said, gesturing to the bright red welts starting to appear on the boy's face. The whore called out to one of the maids, a skinny dull eyed girl of about twelve who was scrubbing a pot. Go fetch the healer, girl, she is here to help Alira give birth, she said, If she can come and tend to Cason. Tell her he is knocked out. The servant dropped her scrub brush, Yes, Miana. Miana looked over at who she saw as a pretty young man, studying his comely face. You are here to take the Black, yes? What a waste....what is your name? she asked, letting her sleeve fall down her soft white shoulder. Brydan Rivers, and yes, she said, quickly, not wanting to talk too much in case the whore was clever and realized her ruse. Riyana ducked her head, her bright red hair no longer able to hide her face since it was cropped short though it was starting to grow out more on the top, falling in a shaggy fetlock across her forehead. The whore looked him over and she smiled, Youre very young to do such a thing. I think youd grow to be a very handsome man. Are you sure you wish to take those vows? I wonder if youve even wet your prick before. She twirled her hair, looking at her and biting her lower lip, I could personally see to it you at least get to experience that before deciding to become part of the Watch. No, ma'am, Riyana said, shifting away, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. My mind is set. The boy groaned, his face already swelling from the iron enforced punches and Riyana glanced at him, unsure of she should remain or not. Miana switched her hips and gave her a curl of a smile but the girl dressed as a boy looked away. Oh come, its not like youre a crow yet, and trust me not many of them keep to that part of their silly vows, she teased. Those vows are not silly, Riyana replied, his voice still low and unidentifiable. They are sacred and given to the Gods. Miana sniffed and shrugged, Then you are a rarity indeed. Our best customers are men of the Watch. Riyana shot her a look, her blue eyes blazing but held her tongue. Perhaps it was not as the old stories said, where men would take the vows out of duty and honor. In her travels, she had heard that the dungeons were swept for likely candidates and of course, she knew crimes of honor were punishable by forcing a man to take the Black. Another whore come into the kitchen, her pale blonde hair billowing around her shoulders and her sagging bosoms straining against the thin blouse. She cooed at Riyana, Sweet boy, let me clean up and Ill give you a ride you wont soon forget when youre pacing up on that wall. Recoiling, Riyana turned away, blushing at the laughter from the two slatterns. How could these women to do such things, it was bad enough thinking about being married, having some man on top of her nightly but to do such a thing for a living? It made her sick and sad to think about. Finally the healer arrived and she took her leave, slipping out as the old woman began to attend the boy, with a rambling string of curses and a deft hand. Riyana made her way back to the Inn across from the brothel, pulling up the black hood of her woolen cloak against the chill wind of night. It was cold, with a bite to it that made her think it was touching the ice wall and bringing it down to her nip at her face. Dawn came quickly, the wan pale gold light filtering through the small windows of her room where she lay curled up under a pile of her own blankets, not trusting those of the inn since she noticed fleas in the last place she had stayed. Riyana yawned and rolled out of the sagging bed to pour a basin of cold water. It would be likely her last chance to wash and dress with some sort of privacy as she did not know how closely she would be sleeping around the Brothers. She cleaned herself fastidiously, rebinding her small pert breasts with the linen wraps to flatten them down. before donning the black wool and leather clothing she would wear to present herself to Castle Black. Her hair was now clean and bright as new copper which she combed down to attempt to control the thick short locks. Riyana saddled her dark bay garron, scratching the geldings thick neck and rubbing his mealy colored muzzle. Mounting up, she did not give a last look at the little underground town as she pushed forward towards Castle Black. The fort rose from the mist that lay on the ground, the air being cool and damp as the sun broke through the low clouds. Her heart was pounding, part of her certain they would take one look at her and not see the boy Brydan Rivers but the young woman in a mummers farce. For the first time she felt perhaps Dallin had been right, the old master at arms had warned her that her duty was not on the Wall but as a wife. The older man had understood though why she could not go through with it and his soft heart in the stone hard body had given in and he had showed her how to disguise herself. As she approached, she noted a large wagon with men and boys around it. Some were actually still in their chains and she shook her head with a grimace, the hood pulled up to shadow her fair face. This is what the honorable Nights Watch had come to, a dumping ground for orphans, criminals, and one runaway lady.