Chapter 19: The Perfumed Sister

"How can it be so hard to find one single girl?!"

The Lords of Robert Baratheon's Small Council looked nervously at eh furious king. He had slimmed down extremely in the months after The Tragedy Of House Stark. He had started training with his warhammer again, he had stopped drinking and fucking whores and focused all his attention to finding the "Dragonspawn" as he called her. However even the spider was at loss, the last news fast how she boarded a ship at White Harbor but afterwards, nothing. None of the little birds from the Free Cities had seen anyone fitting the girl's description, she had just vanished.

Robert took his anger out on everyone which made many avoid him as long as they could. The situation did not get any better when Robert named Tywin Lannister his hand. Tywin more or less ruled the Seven Kingdoms while Robert was on his manhunt for the girl. The North had demanded that they themselves choose the new warden, something that after much discussion was granted, no need to anger the northmen even more. The Riverlands and the Vale was in mourning and hostile to the throne, the realm was at the brink of war and Robert did not care in the slightest. Somehow Tywin had managed to keep the peace but everyone knew, that if Helena Snow returned to Westeros it would mean war.

xXx

After they passed the Stepstones the Mourning Widow met the slave trader's ship halfway to Lys. Helena and her fellow prisoners were moved from to the other ship and some coins changed owners and they were on their way eastward. Somehow Helena had thought it was not going to be so easy to be sold. She was a slave now, just like that, she felt no different than before. She had no collar and she was allowed to keep her hideous dress.

She was not so naïve to believe she would be able to live a usual life in Lys. She had heard of the pleasure houses from Faeyianna, how they trained young girls in the art of lovemaking and seduction. Helena didn't want that! It went against everything she had learned growing up. She was supposed to save herself for marriage and don't socialize with men without a chaperone, that was how it was supposed to go but instead she was raped and now sold to a brothel in a land she knew nothing about. What in Gods name did she do to deserve this?

xXx

Zazarra Qhasa had left her home on The Summer Islands many years ago and had come to Lys at eighteen. With her dark skin and curly hair she soon rose to be one of the most requested courtesans in Lys; she slept with men but also entertained them with discussions, song and dance. When she turned thirty-five namedays she became a teacher for new girls and educated them to become seductive prostitutes.

Zazarra was a devoted follower of the Goddess of Love, Sevda. The reason she left Walano was to spread Sevda's beliefs and convert others and what place was better than the city that was famous for its pleasure houses.

At the moment Zazarra was teaching about ten girls but she knew a new one was coming in. A little westerosi girl who knew nothing of the world, well, Zazarra had handled worse. She was sure she could help this little kız, too.

xXx

When they arrived in Lys Helena was struck with how beautiful it was. The city covered the entire island. The docks were built at the bottom of the cliff were the houses were. The buildings were made of pale granite and seemed to reach the sky. Spires crowned the dome-shaped roof. The windows were made of some kind of colored glass which glittered in the sunshine. Balconies seemed to hang from every wall which seemed logical because it was very, very hot.

For a minute Helena forgot why she was there and just admired the beauty of it all. It was a different kind of beauty than the North, at home it was a tranquil and natural charm, and here it was a colorful and artistic enchantment.

The slave trader yanked the chain and forced her forward with the other captives behind her.

The two men were left at a barrack-looing building while Helena had to ascend into the city itself. They kept walking through alleys filled with stalls selling food, fabrics, jewelry and perfumes. They also passed several brothels and gardens with shining fountains.

Helena noticed that all women wore very see-through clothing, some had tattoos under their eyes and everyone had wavy hair in various hairstyles. With a teenager's insecurity she became aware of her own, straight and dirty hair falling down directly from her scalp.

After walking almost half an hour they arrived at a white building made from stone with a lotusflower over the door. They entered and a strong smell of perfume surrounded her. The hall was surprisingly clean with flowers decorating the walls, further inside a small man sat at a desk writing undisturbed by the sound coming from the behind the doors around them.

"Arello, I have come with the new girl." Her captor shouted. Helena didn't understand a word.

"Finally!" He man said irritated. "You are late."

"I had to deliver two other prisoners but she's here now, all right?"

"Whatever." The man sighed. "Come one, this way. Lady Zazarra is waiting."

He got up and led them deeper into the brothel. After walking through fragrant corridors they came to a room with a glass ceiling. A group of ten girls in various ages, dressed in simple white dresses without any ornaments, sat on cushions and listened to a beautiful woman with ebony skin and long curly hair tied up in a bun. In contrast to most women Helena had seen this woman did not wear a dress you could see through but instead a heavy dress in a vibrant orange color. It seemed like the only thing holding it up was a metal choker around her neck.

When they entered everyone looked up.

"Lady Zazarra this is..." He frowned and turned to Helena. "What's your name?"

Helena panicked; she didn't understand what he was saying at all. She only knew a few words in valyrian and he was talking too fast. Before she could say anything, the woman spoke up.

"Arello, she doesn't understand what you are saying." She looked at Helena. "What's your name, little one?"

Thank god, she spoke the Common Tongue. She didn't answer immediately. She thought of how her family was dead, how Robert Baratheon was looking for her and what her mother had named her.

"Jean."

Author's Note:

I couldn't find a translator for the summer tongue, the langue on the Summer Islands so I used google-tanslate from English to Turkish. I don't speak Turkish, not at all, so I won't be using it much. The goddess of love doesn't have a name so I just took the Turkish word for love and used it.

From the next chapter and forward I won't use "Helena" anymore. Now I will only use the name "Jean" as that is who she is now.

Kız = girl

Happy reading

Mimi890