Flea Bottom was vast and intricate, the narrow streets almost maze-like with dilapidated buildings. From all the stories Blade had heard about King's Landing, she had pictured it as a welcoming place. The truth was that she had never felt more alien; from another time, from another place altogether - far east of Assahi.
When she had first caught the eye of a young blonde sellsword in Braavos, she was only eleven years old and begging on the streets with her disheveled black hair and teary blue eyes. His name was Vaan and he never inquired about her past; he knew not if she had family, where she had come from, or what had happened to bring her to such a dismal state. And she would never volunteer those tidbits to him. Despite this, he had insisted that Blade would come with him home to Westeros, to build something that resembled a decent life. He wasn't exactly sure what he would do in Westeros, but he knew there was always work for a man with a sword.
From all the stories of wealth and magnificence Vaan had shared with her on their journey across the sea, she had assumed that she would simply arrive in King's Landing and make herself at home. Now that she had arrived, the air was blisteringly warm and she found herself being led through crowded alleys, stumbling on uneven ground, recognizing nothing and no one.
Vaan held tight to Blade's thin arm, blundering forward into the Summer haze, the cobblestone beneath their feet sticky with debris and muck. The smell of cheap wine and slowly dissolving dung clung to the air.
He wondered why he had brought this little girl here. Why had he felt compelled to rescue her? There were plenty of starving kids on the street, in many cities around the world. He had felt no pity or compassion for them before. He would never come to know the answer.
But there he stood, in the middle of Flea Bottom, where prosperity and hope were as an exotic dream as distant as magic, dragons, White Walkers, or the Shadow Lands. In this section of King's Landing, cats are thin and hollow-eyed for want of food, the hearths are cold, windows are dusty and cracked, and homes are held together by rotting wood.
Blade was not inclined to admire the view and neither was Vaan. His immediate concern was how getting out of the heat and finding a place to rest for a few days. Rescuing them from the sun, Vaan pulled Blade through the back door of a familiar house, leading her through a claustrophobic corridor that smelled of soiled linen and unwashed hair.
"Watch your step on these stairs; some of them are rotten." He smiled down at her with his grey eyes, in an attempt to be reassuring. "My sister, Carol, should be up here. She's a sweet girl, for a whore. You'll like her."
And indeed, Carol was a working woman with a daughter and two sons. It had been five years since her husband had passed away and she'd been making her own way in the world. She was cold and hard-working, willing to do anything necessary to keep food on the table and a roof over her children's heads. Despite her hard work or her dreams of a better life, Carol would work, live and certainly die in Flea Bottom.
When Vaan entered Carol's room, two voices began yelling and Blade stood outside the door listening to the commotion. After a few minutes, the door swung open to reveal a tall woman with golden hair. Years ago, many would have considered her attractive, but her difficult times now reflected in her appearance. She gestured for Vaan to pull Blade into the room.
"Mother's mercy, Vaan.. what a pretty kid she is! The boys will be happy. " Carol voice was slurred with drink and her accent was so different from those Blade had heard in Essos, that she had a hard time understanding her . "Now, now, little girl. No reason to be scared. How old are you?"
"I... uh..." Blade stuttered nervously. "Eleven."
"Eleven years old, nearly a woman," Carol repeated to herself and jokingly jabbed her elbow into her brother's side. "What you think of her, Vaan?"
Vaan shuffled uncomfortably, "That's not why I brought her here."
"Rather pretty though, dontcha think?"
He replied with a shrug. "Just don't, Carol."
"Anyways, little girl," Carol bent down to be at eye-level with Blade. "If you're not going to be workin' with me, you're gonna have to earn your keep somehow. So, you'll work very hard 'round this ole' shanty. You'll do as your told and don't get into no trouble. You behave or I'll let my boys give you a nasty beating. And maybe in a few months, Uncle Vaan will letcha come work with your Auntie Carol."