A Comment on Age

All characters in this story are 18 years or older, despite their ages in the original fiction.

            Ros sank her claws into the nameless whore’s face and gouged at her eye until her screams stopped and she collapsed, the pain having taken her into darkness and the mud and filth squelching up around her bleeding face.

            Ros fell on her ass, watching her opponent’s mauled chest rise and fall, waiting for her to leap to her feet and attack again. Waiting for her to go for her throat. And as she stared at the bitch, she thought back on her life and where things had gone so very, very wrong.

            It had started with The Spider, of course. She hadn’t known it then, but aligning herself with him was akin to laying down with the lions…or perhaps among a nest of vipers… The Spider had no allies. He only had pawns and in her darkest hour she had been blind to that. But now she cursed herself for taking that misstep.

            At first, things had been better than ever before; Baelish had indeed promoted her to the position at his right hand and she had never hadn’t had to spread her legs again. Her wounds healed and then it became her job to not only spy for Baelish and keep his businesses afloat as the war waged on, but also to facilitate the differences between his companions.

            And that meant she let them fight it out, casting the worst offenders into the pit. And on that rare occasion where one of the girls got a little over confident, she would put them in their place by tearing their faces to shreds. In those battles, she had take her own fair share of wounds and had a collection of scars. But the one scar she had that she could never forget about was the one over the nipple of one of her large, heavy breasts.

            Word of Lady Dustin had all but stopped as the war continued but every now and then, she would wake up in the middle of the night  in a panic, fearing that The Spider would betray her and she would be sent to the lines to serve one of her greatest foes.

            Allyria hadn’t been heard from since their battle in the sewer and Ros was half convinced that the bitch was dead. That thought didn’t bother her at all and in fact she hoped it was true. The very idea made her a little wet and helped her get back to sleep.

 Having no enemies that could match her meant that she was practically untouchable and she let it make her slow and complacent and when you let that sit in…danger is on the horizon. She was playing for two powerful people and being slow was bound to get her in trouble.

And that trouble came in the form of Sansa Stark.

Had Ros thought a bit longer about revealing the plans of her escape to Varys…had she not made it her business to get involved with her in the first place…she wouldn’t be here in this fucking pit for the third month in a row.

She watched the woman’s chest rise for a final time and then breathed herself as her opponent’s chest didn’t rise again. She allowed her eyes to break focus and take in the pit around her, filled with mud, blood, and gods knew what else. Over the last few years, the pit had been opened up to a few special patrons in this war torn time.

One of which was the King himself.

At first she had been surprised to see such a young man in this hellish pit, his king’s guards standing by his side. But after the first two of her matches, she understood that this King…this boy…was nothing more than a devil.

A fucking devil.

She looked up at him now and saw him giggling as he stared down at her beaten foe, her breasts mauled into ruin and her face almost entirely gone. He leered down at the dead woman and Ros realized that she knew that look very, very well. It was the look of lust. The bastard king lusted for this violence, and this little pit was his whore.

Ros looked back down at her torn and battered body; blood flowed from her massive breasts. Her missing nipple was now the better of her two, the other split in half and ripped open. Her left eye was swollen shut. He tongue was swollen in her mouth. Her cunt was almost beyond repair.

Her dead opponent had been very good, but she had been better. And as she was being carried off into her holding cell, she took in a deep breath—that felt like daggers running along her throat—and knew she had at least survived another day.

Once she had lived in chambers filled with silk and gold. Now she shared a small bench with another wretched woman and took turns sleeping in the straw on the floor. They had filled this cell with screams and blood in the beginning, but Ros had taken her right eye. After that, the woman hadn’t given her any trouble.

An old Maester with a pitiful looking chain came into her cell and tended to her wounds, feeling her up without a single attempt at being subtle. What would be the point? If he could get it up she was sure that she would have let him take her without protest. She would die here someday regardless. When he had left, she curled up in the straw and passed out into a dark sleep.

As she slept in the straw—the steaming heap sticking to her wounds, serving as bandages—she dreamed of the King and his eyes. A man wrapped his arms around her and she knew it was Brandon. She rested her head against his shoulder, longing for his protection…longing for his warmth. But he shoved her forward and she fell into King Joffrey’s eyes where she began to drown.

Not in water.

In blood.

She couldn’t breathe. She was choking.

She opened her eyes and found her cellmate trying to strangle her.

Apparently the bitch hadn’t learned.

She reached up and plunged her thumbs into her eye sockets again, feeling the other eye beginning to give. Her cellmate screamed and released her throat.

“You’re dead you little bitch.” Ros hissed as she lunged for her. Her cellmate kicked her in the chest and her mauled tit exploded in pain. But it didn’t stop her from wrapping her hand around the bitch’s throat and prepared to sink her teeth into it.

“No! I’m sorry! She told me to! She said she’d help me get out of here!”

Ros stopped. She squeezed tighter and looked in the woman’s one good eye.

“Who?”           

“I don’t know…she was missing a part of her nose…Dornish I think…please…she said she said if I killed you then she could get me out of–”

“And you believed her?” Ros asked, staring down at the woman in disbelief. “A woman who is a fucking prisoner here? You fucking believed her?”

“I…I…”

Ros clicked her tongue, slammed her cellmate head down on the ground and pressed her torn breasts down on the woman’s face. She felt her bite down on the torn flesh, jerked upward and punched her in the mouth over and over again, knocking teeth out of her mouth and then cracking her skull on the floor. Then, she placed her tits over her face again and then waited until she was dead.

Allyria…alive…

“Not for long.” Ros whispered in the dark.

With her cellmate dead, she was able to think. If Allyria was alive, she would be somewhere down here in the foul cells beneath the pit. She already knew how to pick the lock on her own cell—she had done it in order to cripple one of the bitches’ she was to fight, making the battle an easy one to win—and knew that she could get out and look for her. But if the gaelor found her, she would lose a hand or a foot and that would be the end of her.

Instead, she pressed her face to the bars in her door and listened.

There was nothing different about the sounds of wet sobbing and whispered curses. The women in the cells were half mad and if she ever cared to take the time to listen, she could piece together all of their tragic stories. But she didn’t care about that. All she wanted was to find that damn Dornish whore.

And then the smell hit her…the smell of spice…

It was faint. Very faint. However she had not smelled that particular scent since before the fight in the sewer. Yes, she was here. And she was close.

Then a hand slapped the bars across her face and a set of nails clawed at her face. She knew that hand…it’s nails almost at home on her face. She shot her arm out through the bars and swiped to the left where the arm had come from.

There, behind the bars of that cell, she felt the familiar face of her old rival.

Allyria’s nose had a dip across the bridge where Ros had bitten it…ruined it down in the darkness of the sewer. She felt the Dornish bitch snap her teeth snap at her fingers as she raked the brown skin–not half as soft as it had once been.

“Found you…bitch,” Allyria’s voice hissed. “Come on…claw my eyes out. Let’s see if I can get one of yours out first.”

“You fucking bitch…You Dornish whore…” Ros hissed. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to tear your fucking throat out. She felt the sharp, jagged nails rake across her face and tear the skin in a way that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

It made her wet.

Part of her had missed having an opponent worthy of her.

Their hands froze on one another’s cheeks and eyes and dug in. She could hear Allyria’s breath and found herself smiling.

“I’m glad you killed that cellmate of yours,” Allyria said. “If she’d lived…it would have meant you weren’t worthy…”

“I’ve survived down here for quite some time…” Ros said. “You really think I won’t outlive some stupid cunt…or you?”

Allyria’s fingers dug into Ros’ cheeks even deeper. Ros could imagine the look in her eyes and felt her cunt get wetter. Memories of all of their battles in the brothel flooded her mind.

“I’ve been here ever since the sewer.” Allyria said.

She must have felt Ros’s mouth fall open. She began to laugh and dragged her nails across Ros’s face and then grabbed hold of the bars.

“I’m going to end you myself, whore…in the pit.”

Then she pulled her hand back and the conversation ended. Ros stood at her door, blood trickling down her face and moisture down her legs. The Dornish bitch had gotten to her.

But as she sat in the corner of the cell and stroked her scarred cunt, thinking about how to kill the Dornish bitch, she vowed that it would be the last time that she ever sank her claws into Ros’s face or her mind.

            But the next morning, when she decided to try to start the conversation again by banging on the cell door next to hers, Allyria didn’t answer. And when Ros was pulled into the hall and past the cell, Allyria wasn’t there. And that meant the time had come.

            Out in the pit, deep beneath the Red Keep, fresh mud was being spread across the arena. The King was sitting in his special booth, already looking bored, despite Ros being completely naked. Normally she would have been concerned about his lack of interest but she was looking for Allyria. She wanted to lay eyes on the bitch…she wanted to rush at her and sink her nails into her eyes and blind her. She would let the whore crawl in the mud and shit and she would—

            There she was.

            Being led through the far side door was the Dornish bitch.

            She did not look nearly as beautiful as she had the night before their fight in the sewer. Somehow, Ros had never pictured her as anything but beautiful. But seeing how her left breast was mauled to the point of it sagging to her navel…to see her half bald and part of her left ear missing…to see the bridge of her nose with that ridge Ros had bitten out of her…she wanted more than ever to put her in the fucking ground.

            Allyria looked at her with her wicked, lusty eyes and grabbed herself by the pussy and spread her lips as she was pulled into the mud. Ros felt a pang of violent desire throb inside of her and wanted nothing more than for the guard to release her so she could go at her.

            But then the third door beneath the King’s box opened and from the doorway emerged another woman carried in by two guards. She was a true beauty…one that would have been the crown jewel of the brothels. She had a nasty scar running along her belly indicating that she had perhaps had a child cut from her. Her dark hair was down to her ass and her nose looked as if it had been broken. And when they pulled her to the center of the pit and forced her to look up at the king, he stood with a smirk on his face.

            “Well,” Joffrey said. “It looks like the she wolf isn’t so beautiful and strong anymore. Have you enjoyed your new home?”

            She didn’t answer. To do so would be death. Ros had never seen Joffrey so giddy. It frightened her…and she couldn’t imagine how scared the poor girl must have been.

            “You are going to die today…” he said, “Along with one of the champions of the pit. And to make things a little interesting, we are going to have your fates linked to one another.”

            He snapped his fingers and out came three more men with a long length of chain. The separated and connected a collar onto each of the women. Ros glanced over at Allyria who seemed to be just as confused as she was. This was supposed to be their fight…their final moments together…who the hell was this woman and why did she have the King in such a state?

            “Any last words, you treacherous bitch?” Joffrey asked.

            The woman looked up at him, her lovely eyes filled with tears, her large, hanging breasts swaying as she stepped forward.

 Then she spat at him.

“Long live The King in the North!”

“He is dead, you stupid bitch…as is your child. And now it is your turn.”

The men locked the last collar around her neck and the chains fell to the mud, connecting the three of them together with a single large ring in the middle.

            “Give the signal, Baelish,” Joffrey said, leaning over the railing. Lord Baelish stepped out of the shadows and smiled down at Ros. They looked into each other’s eyes and she felt his smug sense of victory take hold. She tried to stand defiant under his gaze, but the chain around her neck jerked her towards the center and almost into the mud.

            He raised his hand and let it fall.

            Immediately, Allyria made a break for the girl who had spat at The King. Obviously she had thought the same thing Ros had; the girl was the weaker of the three. Kill her first and then they could have their reunion.

            But as Ros charged forward as well, the girl turned to face Allyria and screamed like a mad animal. She launched herself at the Dornish bitch, feet and hand in the air. Ros was jerked face first into the mud and for a moment the world went dark as pain shot through her neck. She looked up and saw the She Wolf wrap her hands around Allyria’s throat and begin to throttle her, shoving her head into the mud, practically foaming at the mouth.

            Allyria had grabbed hold of her breasts and was mauling them by twisting to the right and left, nails gouging into them deep enough to draw blood. Ros knew if she wanted to take out her greatest foe before she dies, she would need to act.

            “Go get her you red headed cunt!” The King shouted. Ros looked up at him and saw that he was holding in his hands a beautiful, terrible crossbow.

            She got to her feet, grabbed the chain that was connected to her throat, and ran towards the two mud covered women. She threw the chain around the She Wolf’s throat and began to strangle her. But the moment she did, the bitch’s nails began to rake across her arms, tearing the skin down in ribbons. Then her foot came up and kicked Ros in the cunt and she fell to her knees, the chain going slack.

“I’m not dying in here!” the long haired She Wolf began to scream. She ducked under the length of chain Ros had in her hands, pivoted, and lunged at Ros, burying her teeth into Ros’s left breast and her hands into Ros’s face.

Ros screamed in surprised agony as she wrapped her legs around the woman and began to squeeze her. She had never fought a woman so strong and so fueled by anger. It was clear that she had been wronged in some great way and that was the only thing keeping her alive. And as she ripped at Ros’s left tit with her teeth, she tried to gouge out her eyes.

“You’re dead, you fucking bitch!” Ros screamed. “FUCKING DEAD!”

Allyria got to her feet and massaged her throat. She looked down at the two of them and a smile spread across her face. As Ros rolled over on top of the She Wolf, she knew that Allyria was going to let Ros handle this one. EIther she would die or she would be weakened enough by the wild bitch that Allyria would pick her off like a flea

“FUCKING KILL HER!” Joffrey screamed down at them, then a crossbow bolt appeared at Allyria’s feet, causing her to jump and then leap into the fray, the chains getting tangled around the three fighters as their attacks landed where ever they would fall.

Ros plunged her left hand into Allyria’s cunt and began to maul it while the She Wolf

managed to bite a nasty chunk out of her left tit. Ros’s blood flowed into the woman’s face as Allyria tried to blind her with her nails. But Allyria had gotten her arms wrapped in the chain and was now struggling to keep hold as her arms were being wrapped behind her.

            “You cunts!” The She Wolf screamed as she began to drive a fist into Allyria’ mauled nose. “I’m a fucking queen! I am the Queen in the North and I refuse to let you kill me! OH GOD! OH ROB!”

            She was insane. Ros could feel the heat radiating off of her like a bonfire and the anger radiating from her soul. And when the woman turned on her again, she scooped up a handful of mud and slammed it into the She Wolf’s eyes, blinding her long enough to get away from her.

            But only so far.

            The collar around her neck snapped her back and she fell with her back in the mud, her breast bleeding and her face a torn ruin.

            “Get back here you filthy bitch!” Allyria spat. “Too weak to put this fucking bitch down?” But then Allyria herself was tackled by the madwoman. The She Wolf, tears in her eyes began to shove Allyria’s head into the mud, trying to drown her as she screamed about her wedding and her unborn child.

            Ros had a moment of clarity that had been a rare occasion for her as of late. She saw the blood staining the pit…the blood oozing out of her breast…she saw the wild eyes of the mad woman and knew that if she didn’t die today, she could very easily turn into that wild woman.

            No…she thought. Not me.

            She picked up her chain again and ran toward the woman. She brought it down across the She Wolf’s forehead and sent her rolling off of Allyria. Ros stepped onto Allyria’s back and pressed her deeper into the mud as she reached down and took hold of the mad woman’s tits and began to pull on them.

            “YOU CRAZY BITCH!” Ros screamed as she slammed a foot down on the woman’s chest, pinning her to the ground. “I’ll tear your fucking tits off and then shove them down your fucking throat.”

            The woman was howling in agony and Ros was finally glad to have her edge back. She watched the woman try to grab at her cunt, barely missing it. She would cave the woman’s sternum in and then watch her fucking drown in her own fluids. She would—

            Allyria shoved her down on top of the She Wolf and then kicked her right in the cunt. The second Ros fell on her and received that blow, the She Wolf had her. She bit into her cheek and wrapped her hands around her throat, pulling at it like a piece of tough mutton. Ros screamed, feeling her cheek begin to part with her face and then her air stop in it’s way into her lung. The She Wolf rolled on top of her and began to throttle her, ripping the cheek off of her face.

            You’re going to die now… Ros thought as she tried to fight back. You are going to die at the hands of some madwoman.

            Then Allyria wrapped her chain around the woman’s throat and began to choke her again, pressing her naked body against her back. The strong hands left her throat and went up to Allyria’s eyes. The Dornish bitch screamed and tried to pull back as the She Wolf latched on tight and refused to let go.

            Ros watched a a nasty yellow fluid oozed between the fingers on the She Wolf’s right hand, just as Allyria pulled away.

            “YOU FUCUKING BITCH!” Allyria screamed. “MY EYE! OH GODS MY EYE!”

            THe She Wolf stood above them, the scar on her stomach clear and plain as day. That scar represented her…it was her…She was broken and now she was going to break them. Ros couldn’t get to her feet before the woman grabbed her by the hair and jerked her to her knees.

            “Your turn, whore…” she hissed.

            Ros closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

            *Thwack*

            A warm fluid burst across Ros’s face and she opened her eyes to see blood shooting around a bolt that protruded from the woman’s throat. Her eyes were staring at Ros’s with confusion and pain.

            “Useless whores,” Joffrey spat. “Can’t even kill a fucking woman.”

            The She Wolf fell to her knees and looked into Ros’s eyes. She reached a hand out and touched Ros’s wounded cheek and tried to speak. But then her eyes rolled into the back of her head and then she collapsed.

            She did not rise again.

            “I am very, very disappointed in the both of you,” Joffrey said, cranking his crossbow once more. “I expected better. You had better pray one of you can make it up to me…”

            Ros looked at Allyria who was sobbing, clutching her eye hole. Then she looked at the bleeding, gasping body of the She Wolf, and knew that there was only one way out of this. She grabbed the chain around the She Wolf’s neck and dragged her along with her as she slowly made her way through the mud towards Allyria.

            As she did, Allyria sat up, clutching at her eye hole, her other eye flying open.

            “FUCK YOU!” She screamed at Ros.

            “I’m coming for you, bitch,” Ros hissed. “I’m going to fucking kill you…”

            Allyria grabbed a handful of mud and threw it at her, missing her by a mile.

            Ros picked up the pace and then dropped the body and lunged at Allyria. The two became entwined with one another, their limbs locking across the other’s body as they began to roll through the mud, their chains binding one another tightly to each other.

            “You should have died in the sewer you Dornish bitch,” Ros spat as she bit down on her lip and pulled. Allyria managed to get a hand free and grab at Ros’s right breast, tearing at it with her jagged nails. Their rolling came to a stop as the body of the She Wolf held them back.

            A crossbow bolt planted itself right beside of them in the mud.

            “I’M WAITING!” Joffrey screamed as he began to crank his crossbow once again. Ros jerked an arm out from the tight coil of chain, grabbed the bolt, and raised it over her head. She intended to drive it into Allyria’s other eye  but the Dornish bitch stopped her, grabbing her wrist and bending it backward.

            “You’re dead…” Allyria muttered as she began to roll them the other way, freeing them from the tight coils. And when both of them had their arms back, they struggled for the barbed bolt.

            Their swollen, mutilated breasts bashed against each other and their scarred faces met in a snarling, foaming rage as they tried desperately to wrench the bolt free from the other’s grasp. Ros drove an elbow into Allyria’s ruined left tit, Allyria punched Ros’s bleeding face. On and on they went, never letting go of the bolt that could end the fight in an instant.

            They rolled over the She Wolf’s body and became tangled in her limbs. Allyria gave a loud, bestial roar, grabbed Ros by the hair, and shoved her head down violently.

            Ros felt a bright white pain course through her mouth and was shocked to see the barb of a crossbow bolt sticking out of her mouth. The Dornish bitch had tried to impale her with the tip that was protruding out of the dead woman’s throat. She began to scream and tried to lift up, but the bolt held her fast.

            Allyria wrenched the bolt from Ros’s hand and flipped it over. She pressed the tip right underneath Ros’s right eye and began to wedge it beneath her bright blue orb.

            “I’ve waited for this for so long…” Allyria whispered. She spat in Ros’ face and pulled a hand back to drive the bolt into her eye. Ros screamed and her scream was met by another.

            A bolt appeared in Allyria’s left thigh. She dropped the bolt in her hand and grabbed at her wounded leg, screaming up at the sky.

            Now was Ros’s chance. She summoned all of her might and jerked her head up, tearing her mouth open as she ripped free of the bolt. Then she pounced on top of Allyria, the Dornish bitch that had tried to take everything from her. The Dornish whore who had been so desperate to prove how superior she was.

            She pressed her fingers into her other eye and relished in her screaming. She bent over and began to bite into her face again as the whore still clawed at her breasts. She lifted her head and bashed it into the mud over and over again, covering her face in blood and muck.

            “DIE! FUCKING DIE! FUCKING DIE!” Ros cried over and over again.

            And for the first time, Allyria finally did what Ros told her to. She pressed a hand against Ros’s face once more, spasmed, and died, choking on mud and shit, blind, and in agony.

            Ros stood up over her fallen rival and raised her arms in victory.

            “Well,” Joffrey said. “It’s about damn time. I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to see anything good today. You really disappointed me.”

            She closed her eyes and nodded, knowing that she would make it up to him in the next fight. She opened her mouth to say so when his final bolt struck her in the left breast, right in her heart.

            The force of it took her to the ground, in between the two women she had been fighting. She looked at it…clutched it…and tried to remove it. But then she felt her arms begin to grow weak.

            “I’m bored,” Joffrey said. “I want to go to the dungeons.” He tossed his crossbow to the floor of his booth and walked out, leaving Baelish looking down at Ros with a sad smile on his face.

            “You could have been great,” he said.

            Then he too was gone.

            She looked around at the filth she was to die in and began to cry silent tears.

            How? How could this have happened? How could she have spent her whole life learning from her father…fighting for her right to be recognized…fighting for love…fighting for power…how could she have done it all only to end up here in the mud, dead, just like her enemy?

            Everything she had ever fought for had been destroyed by the whim of a mad little king.

            And that, she realized, was all that mattered when you tried to climb a ladder. It didn’t matter who you climbed over or how high you got…what mattered was who was on the other end waiting for you, and if they were in the mood to watch someone fly.

            She coughed once. Closed her eyes. And dreamed of her father and his stall.

            “Come here and count these for me, my darling.” He said.

            She sat down beside of him, put her head on his shoulder, and began to count his small collection of coins.

The End

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