A little something I found lying about

[Grisella]

The write-up/intro story to my planned AoC assassin/thief when I still worked under the assumption that I'd move with my old guild into other games. The char didn't seem suitable for LOTRO (imagine trying to RP that in Bree... *grins*) - and as you all know I kind of lost interest in MMO RP. Haven't lost the will to write though - it's quite possible you'll see a bit more from me later on.

It's rather mild by my own standards as I easily veer towards - *ahem* - steamier and explicit content (yeah - I do write my fair share of erotica - you shouldn't be too surprised as you know me well enough from Vent and guildchat ) Split in several parts - the story was too long to post in one go I noticed.

Meet Siegrid - who knows - she might be reincarnated some day when I find a game that suits her.

***********************

It had been a busier night than usual, but that was expected with the sheer amount of people moving through the city this time of the year. A good amount of the visitors were faces she had never seen before and many of them just grown big enough to be called men instead of boys. Their looks and behaviour gave them away - sneaking in through the door, mumbling towards the floor, handing over their coins and then following one of the women back to their rooms.

She never bothered with those any longer - fumbling, insecure and she usually lost patience with them before they had even gotten close to her. Once she had even pulled out her daggers and demanded the youngster with her to either hurry up and get to business or otherwise just leave. He had gone all white, fumbled after his clothing and rushed out of the room quicker than she could put them back down again.

After that incident the madam had expressly forbidden her to have anything to do with the younger customers, said it was bad for business if she scared them off like that. Not that she minded much. The merchants and traders were a nuisance she could stand as they provided good money. For those she could fake a sweet look on her face, a smooth voice and be pleasant company only to make fun of them afterwards. Small and weak men - in all dimensions - she would indicate to the other women behind their backs as they left. It never failed to produce a sea of smiles, something she suspected they only interpreted as pleasantries along with the rest of the services they provided. Gullible fools all of them.

The mercenaries and soldiers coming through were more to her personal taste. Seeing their armour and weapons brought memories back of the life she used to have. To get those moments she was prepared to deal with whatever quirks they happened to have. Most of them were jaded after years on the road, more used to the company of their weapon than a woman and she could never really be sure where she had them. Her skills with the blades were still decent enough to give her some semblance of security even if there had been a few close calls.

With these men she knew better than to make fun of them, they were used to keeping track of their surroundings and she suspected they would catch on to something happening behind their backs. Somewhere she also held them in higher respect than the others - they could stand up and defend themselves if needed and that she admired.

She heard the front door squeak loudly as it opened again - for what time this night she had already lost count of. Many had already complained that they really should do something about it as it drew attention to their passage in and out. The madam always smiled and apologized profusely, promising it would be dealt with promptly. It never was and she wasn't entirely sure if it was just laziness or the fact that it served as a make-shift doorbell that kept it the way it was. By the sound of the boots against the floor and the unmistakeable clinking of a weapon against armour this was either a soldier or mercenary. She heard the sound of his coin purse hitting the table.

"Evening. Looking for a woman that won't back away when she sees of what a proper man can offer. Might even be willing to pay a bit extra if she's skilled enough to handle it to full satisfaction."

She smiled sarcastically to herself as she sat still half-hidden in the shadows. They were often like that when they entered - boasting and confident - bragging about themselves and their purported skills. The majority of them having no more than air to back up their claims with. She couldn't place the dialect, a mixture of several different ways of speaking - most likely picked up over multiple years of travelling the lands.

"Not so fast my good Lady - that will do for an initial payment. I have had my money taken away from me more than once before just because some woman on a whim decided it was beyond what she wanted to deal with. I stand by my offer, but not until I've seen what she's capable of."
"Very well... Siegrid, one for you by the look and sound of it. A word of caution soldier - watch out - she is not an easy one to deal with. She can have a sharp tongue that lass, as sharp as her blades."
"Blades? Well, if she is foolish enough or have energy enough to want to test my other skills after we have finished our initial business I'll be more than pleased to offer her that."

The tone in his voice sounded almost amused. It wasn't unpleasant though and his way of expressing himself even gave the impression of being a bit more cultivated than what they normally saw around here. She bit her teeth together, pushed up her breasts to make the cleavage even more pronounced and put on her sweetest smile before walking out from where she sat, inside she felt irritated - he knew absolutely nothing about whatever skill she had once possessed with the daggers that still lay under her bed.

"Evening soldier, madam."

She made sure the weight was on her right leg to keep her balance, curtsied in front of them and slowly turned around; making sure he got a good view of her in the process. Even after two children she knew she could still rival many of the younger girls in looks. The girl was close to five, the boy a bit more than three now. She hadn't seen them since the boy was just a few months old - her own father taking them away saying this was not an environment for his grand-children to grow up in and did she even have the slightest notion of who the father was? She had laughed at that question - how could she have, with what she was doing.

The whole situation had been awkward for both of them and she was still surprised he had even found her. She believed he might have seen her on a visit here as she had little doubt that he frequented places like this. That was the only reasonable explanation, he had not spent many days searching for her when she ran away with the mercenaries years earlier, swept off her feet by the approaches from one of them and infatuated enough to do whatever he asked of her to follow and be close.

In her darker moments she would think to herself that the only reason he had really taken the children away was the help they eventually would provide back at the farm. With her sister married elsewhere and no other children there wasn't much beyond hired hands to rely on. Not that she missed the children much most days, they had made it hard for her to work - but there were nights where the memories of the girl snuggling up against her to sleep made her stomach ache and feel funny.

To be honest she had felt mostly relief when the midwife after the boy's birth had predicted she would likely not bear more children as the labour had been so prolonged and hard. In the beginning after returning she had been careful to not get pregnant again, now three years later she rarely bothered taking precautions any longer as it seemed as if the prediction held true.

She had felt the smile slip from her face at the thought of the mercenary and the children and quickly put it back on as she turned back to face the two. The soldier didn't look unpleasant now that she got a better look at him - dark hair and eyes, a bit of stubble, decent armour that was in good working order, even looked to be recently bathed - not all that came around bothered with that. She noticed the slight nod and he didn't sound displeased when he spoke again.

"Not half bad, more than I would have expected from an establishment like this. Remains to be seen though how she performs. Proof is in action, nothing else."
"Come on then soldier and show me what you can do. You've got a big mouth and a big sword. If you hide anything even halfway close to it underneath that armour I'll be surprised."

He looked amused by the exchange of words and that she replied back, almost as if he enjoyed the verbal sparring. She motioned to him to follow her up the stairs and as they got to her room he unhooked the sword from his belt and leaned it against the wall, halfway between the door and the bed. Far enough so she wouldn't be able to reach it from underneath him, close enough to be within easy reach for himself as he got up. The behaviour wasn't unfamiliar to her; she'd seen it quite often with men of his kind, always on their guard.

He removed shoulder pads and chest armour, leaving only a thin shirt covering the upper body, sat down on the edge of the bed, leaned back on his elbows and looked towards her. She knew what he expected and unbuttoned her dress to step out of it, waiting for the reaction that always came when they saw her naked for the first time. As usual she turned her back to him; she didn't want to see the expression on his face.

[Grisella]

The sound of him rising from the bed and taking a few steps made her lower the head and swallow, waiting for the door to shut behind him. She'd experienced men leaving before when they saw her - though soldiers were usually less sensitive to how she looked compared to many others. She couldn't really blame them - the scars weren't beautiful - even years after the initial wounds had healed they were red and raised.

"Not what I would have expected on a woman of your kind..."

The hands following the line starting high at the right hip, over the lower back, down over the left buttock and ending half-way down the thigh were different compared to many of the others that had been on her during the years. A touch kind enough to make her feel relief and almost arousal from what at least on the surface could be interpreted as acceptance. She reminded herself that he was just another paying customer, nothing more - she shouldn't read anything into it. Most likely he had just been without a woman for so long that anything would be fine.

The physical pain was mostly gone now but she still remembered the searing heat from the brigand's blade as it cut her open. Her companions had at least had the decency to carry her to the nearest camp, barely alive when they got there. There their loyalty had stopped. She couldn't really blame them - she like them was mostly banded together for the pay, not for any feeling of a mutual cause in what they were doing, their work had been at best shady, most of it downright questionable.

She had floated in a feverish dream for what seemed an eternity and when she woke up to find much of the strength in her lower body gone and that the left leg sometimes did not move as she wanted it to she had only wanted to return to that state halfway between sleep and reality. Especially when she learned that the mercenary had abandoned her as easily as the others, without even giving her as much as a second look.

The healer tending to her tried to console her saying that he probably had thought she wouldn't survive as the cut had been so deep and she had lost so much blood. She should consider herself lucky that it had healed this well with just part of some important connection missing which was why the leg was slow to react; even today she walked with a light limp although it was almost invisible most days and had never regained full use and strength.

As she turned back to face the soldier he had already pulled the shirt off up above his head and she saw that the upper body was covered in a multitude of smaller bruises with one of the sides entirely mapped out in various shades of blue, dark purple and green as if it recently had taken a severe hit. She couldn't help but run her fingers lightly over the ribs and almost thought she saw a slight wince on his face as if even that light touch hurt him.

"Fresh out of battle soldier?"

He didn't answer only loosened the straps to remove his armour from the lower body and motioned to her to get down on the bed. She appreciated the bit of extra time he gave her to lie down fully before following and when he rolled over onto his back with eyes closed and arms above his head she found herself wishing he wouldn't leave just quite yet, she'd experienced far worse treatment before. He lay still as his breathing slowed down and she took the opportunity to study him in silence, eyes travelling over his body.

It wasn't hard to see he must have been through his fair share of battles as he carried many smaller scars along with the bruises. Automatically she recognized the places they were in - where the pieces of armour sometimes left gaps - she'd learned how to use those to her advantage. She held back the impulse to stretch out her hand to touch the scar on the inside of his lower arm and tell him she knew exactly why it was placed where it was and instead just watched as he got up, dressed and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull his boots back on.

"What's your name woman?"

The question was unexpected and he had time enough to rise, hook the sword back in his belt and pick up the shoulder pads and chest armour before asking again, the tone slightly impatient this time.

"Well, do you have a name or not?"
"Siegrid that would be."
"Well Siegrid, for a job well done and for knowing who to ask for next time."

He threw a few extra coins onto the bed, gave her a slight smile and a nod, turned and walked out the door. As it closed behind him she smoothed out the sheets, cleaned herself up, put the dress back on and walked down the stairs again only to find the door locked and closed for the night. Back in her room again she found the thought of the soldier's touch coming back to her and smiled. She shook her head, couldn't allow herself such childish dreaming - they never cared, never.

Her dreams when she finally fell asleep had nothing to do with the soldier and instead took her back to one of the first jobs she'd been sent out to do with a group of the more experienced mercenaries - someone, somewhere that needed to be relieved of certain items in their possession. The initial stages had been easy - bumping into him in the street, flirting, looking available and having him follow her into a darker corner. She hadn't been prepared for the next part - the look of surprise and hurt in his eyes as one of the others silently moved up and stabbed him from behind as he was busy removing her clothes.

Many of them had laughed when she turned over to throw up at the sight of all the blood, saying she shouldn't be such a weakling - this was after all how they survived - 'it's either them or us' as they put it. She had almost been able to put the image out of her mind later that night with the mercenary's arms around her and his voice whispering in her ear that he was proud of her and was sure she would be a quick learner for all sorts of skills if this was how well she did a first time.

The attention and appreciation he brought her was enough of a motivation to pick up the skills quickly and push away any apprehension she felt. She learned to shift between the roles as easily as a reptile shed its skin for a new appearance - the woman selling herself on the street to lure her mark in and pick something from his pockets, the seamless part of a group moving up silently from behind to take others out or the assassin sneaking into a camp under cover of darkness to take out whomever their current employer had a problem with. They never asked for much of a motive - as long as the payment was decent enough and they found they had a reasonable chance to get away with it.

The bed was a mess when she woke up in the early morning hours halfway twisted into the sheets, sweating and nauseous. It didn't happen often, most of the time she could keep whatever had happened at a distance and not let it affect her - that was how she had learned to survive. She found it hard to get back to sleep after she had straightened the bed out and stayed awake following the flecks of light moving over the wall, first just darker shades of grey, then slowly filling in with light as the night was replaced by dawn and the sun rising.

[Grisella]

Next day saw just as many people as the night before, the majority of them again unfamiliar faces. There had been a steady stream of customers since afternoon and she was already close to exhausted as she moved down the stairs early in the evening, not only from the lack of sleep and the thoughts going through her head. As she sat down again waiting for the next customer the sound of a weapon against armour, boots over the floor and yet another coin purse hitting the table made her listen a bit more carefully.

"One of 'em, quickly! Captain is expecting me back soon enough."

The voice was different and for a short moment she felt disappointed. Not that she should expect the soldier from yesterday to return anyway she told herself. As the madam called her out to greet him she arranged her face into another sweet smile to hide her tiredness. She registered that he probably had more than a few years behind him, there were faint signs of grey at the temples and the lines at the corner of his eyes were either from spending time outside squinting at the sun, the result of age or a combination of both. This time she almost lost her balance when she curtsied and made the usual turn to show herself.

"That one'll do. Hurry up, don't have all night."

She almost tumbled into the handrail from the hand on her back as it pushed her towards the stairs. Her arms flailed around as she tried to regain balance and just before she fell forward his hand stretched out and grabbed her under the armpit to catch her. As he pulled her up towards him she heard the crack of a seam splitting partway open and grimaced a bit as the jerk pulled her shoulder up and out. The reaction came from her gut, before she had time to phrase it as a joke and in a pleasant voice like she usually did.

"Watch it! You didn't buy a rag-doll to throw around like a child does."
"Didn't pay for a piece of your mind. Better shut up, scurry up those stairs and do what you're paid to do, or else..."

The voice was low and he spoke close enough to her ear that no one else could hear. He sounded sober enough but his breath told her he'd already had more than a few ales and she felt a slight surge of uneasiness as the grip around her arm tightened to where it was hard enough to leave marks. She'd seen a few of these before - they seemed to get as much enjoyment out of pushing her around as from what they had paid for.

"No tricks, understood? I know what you wenches are capable of, ain't damn well havin' none of that!"

She nodded slightly and at the same time tried to remember if she had put the daggers back underneath the bed last night. In her sleeplessness she had pulled them out just to remember how they felt,to look at how the blades fit perfectly into the hilts and admire the balance in them. That balance which meant they could be swung through the air with minimal effort and found their target almost without her trying.

For a moment she toyed with the idea if she should refuse this one and just leave the day's work at that, then put the thought out of her head and decided that she'd be fine. The sight of the daggers, her words and appearance had always been enough to make any of them back out before anything had happened.

He barely looked at her as she moved to undress, too busy stepping out of his armour and placing it in one of the corners. She quickly slunk down on the bed before he had turned around again. Might as well make him believe she was just being the obedient woman he wanted, ready to give him what he had paid for. It seemed to work as he grinned when he turned back and saw that she was already waiting for him naked and on her back.

"Can't wait for it, eh? That's more like it. Still ain't good enough."

He quickly walked up to the bed, grabbed her with both hands and flipped her over on the stomach. It surprised her but she stayed down and silent, only pulled the arms out from underneath her body to support herself on both elbows and looked into the head end of the bed. Sometimes it was better to go along with what they wanted and not protest too much, she was still unsure how he could react and didn't want to risk anything from what she had seen so far.

"That backside looked mightily fine as it swaggered up the stairs in front of me. Think I'd like some of that tonight..."

She lowered the head a bit, fixed her eyes to a spot on the pillow and just waited for what would happen next. The sooner it was over and done with the better; she could deal with it she repeated to herself - not that she enjoyed it, she never had. Nothing, just silence, and then the surprise of his hand grabbing hold of her hair and pulling her up from the bed. He twisted the length around his hand to get a better hold and turned her face towards him. The look in his eyes and the sudden cold tone in his voice made her stomach twist together from fear.

"A wench like you should be glad I even look at you, foul looking that you are. Looks like someone already gave it to you good once, perhaps even more than once. No doubt deserved it seeing you're the mouthy bitch you showed yourself to be downstairs. Think a bit more o' the same is needed to learn where your proper place is."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the hand as it came flying through the air. It hit just below the cheekbone, close to the temple and she felt the cheek explode in a thousand little needles of pain. A moment later she had a flurry of pinpoint white dots before her eyes and sank down on the floor desperately fumbling under the bed. She almost sighed with relief when she felt a handle below her fingers and as he jerked her up again she quickly turned around and pointed the tip at his chest.

"Back off and leave me be! Don't for a minute believe I won't push it into you scum. Done it before and will do it again if I have to."

She almost growled and feigned a move with the dagger towards him. The cheek felt stiff and swollen as she spoke and she still had some of the small pinpoint dots dancing before her eyes. He let go of her hair and backed away a few steps, towards the door while keeping his eyes on her as he reached for the armour placed in the corner. Just a bit too late she realized his weapon was probably hidden underneath and moved towards him. She felt the left leg give way under her as she put weight on it and a second later he had knocked the dagger from her hand and held her from behind with his own blade against her neck.

"Damn wench! No tricks, told you so! Deserve no better than your throat slit open, but not before I get what I paid for."

He threw her back on the bed, the blow as the frame hit her hip was hard enough to make her wince and yelp from the pain. Moments later he was over her, his blade lying next to her head and she closed her eyes just staying still and silent, hoping it would be enough to not provoke further outbursts from him. She wished she could have covered her ears as well to keep his sounds out, but didn't dare move her hands up higher. As he finished she felt him press the blade up under her chin and waited; she just hoped he knew how to do it right, then she would be unconscious from the blood loss almost before she could register the pain.

"Nah, would be too easy a death for someone like you."

The words sent a new surge of fear through her but nothing happened except the pressure gradually lightening until he removed the sword altogether and then the sound of him getting up to take his armour from the floor. As the door closed behind him she curled up into a ball on the bed and just laid there for a good while, eyes still shut. When she finally rose she felt numb and her entire lower body battered and aching inside and out. She moved over to the basin with her left leg dragging behind her worse than usual and poured it full with water. The need she felt to wash away any trace he left on her, his scent, where he had touched her, any marks left behind was overwhelming.

There were already blotchy purple spots over her hip the same shape and width as the bed frame and she knew those would turn to a solid dark line within a day or two. The scalp at the back of her head felt sore and a quick look in the mirror told her the cheek was already shifting into a darkish blue, it pulled and stung as she turned the head to get a better look at it.

[Grisella]

She didn't bother going back down again, only slipped a loose shirt over her head and lay down on the bed again, her head still spinning. As soon as she closed her eyes she could see him in front of her, hear the voice and felt the stomach pull together. She had been foolish, whatever shrapnel that was left of her old skills wasn't enough to protect her, probably hadn't been in quite a few years. Deep down inside she was quite certain that in her old shape, before the accident, he would not even have been able to touch her before her dagger would have found its way to his throat and taken him out.

As everything around went quiet she picked out her old armour, laid it on the bed and inspected it. The chest piece and leggings were roughly sewn together where the brigand's blade had cut through them many years ago and the surrounding leather was still discoloured from the blood that had soaked into it. She had never bothered much with the armour after she came here, just tucked it away thinking she might sell it or throw it away one day. It would have to do for now, somewhere she could surely find someone to repair it better until she could replace it.

Her face twisted together in a slight grimace as she pulled on the leggings and the straps pressed into the bruised hip as she tightened them. At the same time she was glad for the support they offered as it made it a bit easier for her to move. As the chest piece, shoulder pads and boots came on and she looked at herself in the mirror she could almost make out her old self from long ago. The belt with the two daggers hanging from it came last, the gloves tucked in below the belt for now; she didn't need them just quite yet. One final step remained before she could move out and she pulled out one of the daggers to cut off the hair at the nape. The length would serve no purpose any longer and only be in the way.

She put the dagger back in the sheath and moved down the stairs as silently as she could. A quick stop by the madam's chest out on the front desk provided her with a few silvers, she had hoped for more, but most likely she had removed most of it to her own chambers for the night. She'd dealt with far trickier locks before than the one on the front door and it caused her few problems. The night was dark and still as she snuck out the door and onto the street

[Kemor]

Very enjoyable read Grisella, cheers for that.

And yes, while it's 100% fitting for AoC, I really don't see that one for LoTRo!