Chapter Text
Reyne Rowan always loved the scent of freshly overturned dirt in the gardens, the times when the farmers were planting new crop and the soil was fresh and new. She'd take her horse -- a pure-white mare named Buttercup -- for a ride in the countryside on the days when she knew the farmers would be tilling their fields. She rarely needed an escort on these sorts of excursions, the Reach was rarely so dangerous to need armed guards. Only when there had been word of highwaymen did she travel with soldiers, and there had been no word of highway crime on the Roseroad as of late.
She remembered hearing people talking with her father about how low the crime was becoming in his realm. Even the common thieves seemed to have up and disappeared. Beggars had stopped gathering at the gates, seemingly sinking back into their holes. Her father had dismissed it, and told his men to keep their usual routine. Reyne thought it was delightful. Things weren't so bad in the land anymore, especially considering the dreadful happenings in the North, what with the war and killing of the dreadful traitor king Robb Stark.
The North had always been a mystery to her. Reyne had never been further north than King's Landing, and that was a long time ago when she was younger. She remembered hating it, the stench of waste and sweat that permeated the air and choked the lungs. No amount of lavender oil could cover the vicious scent and it stuck to her hair and clothes for weeks after she returned.
As she rode leisurely down the Roseroad, she waved to farmers as they tilled their fields and gave them cheerful greetings and a wish of good luck. The fort guards had told her to steer clear of the forested areas, that they'd had a bad feeling about the lack of crime, that it would be the calm before some sort of storm. Reyne brushed them off. The forest was far too small for any sort of brigand gang to hide in, and patrols were sent through on a routine basis. Besides, the family that was kind and always gave her a bowl of soup every time she visited in exchange for a few coppers lived on the other side of that wood. She certainly couldn't pass them up just because of some boy's warning.
It would be one of her last times being able to visit them, anyway. Her father had received a letter from the north and apparently he'd found a husband for her up in the North. It was apparently one of the Stark Bannermen that had rebelled against the false king at the Twins. Reyne wasn't sure how she felt about that, especially when she had to leave the Reach, but her father's decision was final. She'd be sent up north in a few months for her wedding.
She entered the wood, proceeding carefully and exercising caution not to hit her head on an errant branch. The forest wasn't too dark that day, but for some reason it felt more alone that it usually did. However, that loneliness must've been an illusion, for she came across someone collapsed at the side of the road.
Reyne coaxed her horse to a stop and dismounted, adjusting her necklace as it went off-center. "Miss? Are you alright?" she said, leaning down and flipping over the body.
It was a woman, a tiny woman with hair mussed enough that if she were further north she could be mistaken for a wildling. Her features had a shade of Dorne in them, but she could pass for a woman of the Reach if she wanted. The fabrics of her clothing were just a mite too fine for someone of the small folk. Perhaps a prostitute or a noblewoman who'd been on the road for many months would have clothes like hers.
Reyne was wary of the woman at first, but when she opened her eyes, she could tell traveler was in sincere distress. Her eyes widened and for a second she studied Reyne in bewilderment before it turned to desperation. "Oh, m'lady, you must be careful out here in the woods!" the woman cried, eyes wild as she gripped Reyne's dress. "Thieves, rapists, and marauders everywhere!"
Three strong hands grabbed Reyne while a fourth covered her mouth, the scent of leather and sweat filling her lungs. She gasped and tried to maneuver away from the brigand, but only got manhandled further. Tears welled in her eyes.
The woman stood up and brushed the dirt off her travelling gear before pulling a knife from her belt. "Ooh, she's a perfect lit'l lady, ain't she?" the Dornish woman drawled. "She's got that teeny lit'l waist like me..." she grinned, showcasing her missing teeth, two on the top, one on the bottom. "Hold 'er down while I take 'er clothes."
Rayne struggled as the two men held her down. One man was large with a pockmarked face, his head shaved smooth. That one didn't meet her eyes, but the other one was a decidedly girlish man, with hair that fell past his ears and a smooth face, but he looked at her coldly, his eyes boring into hers with a million different vulgar emotions. Both of them reeked of blood like they carried exposed viscera with them. Rayne kicked as the Dornish woman's hands reached into her dress and groped for the ties to loosen it.
"Shhhhush, fuck, bitch, stay still or you'll rip yer pretty dress," the Dornish woman hissed, grabbing her knife and jabbing it through Reyne's hand.
Rayne screamed against the leather gloves and watched the blood seep onto the dirt road, the pain unbearable. Tears dropped down her cheeks. Eventually, the Dornish woman was able to work Reyne's dress off of her. The dornish woman smiled in glee. "Ya! No blood on this one!" she squealed in joy. She leaned down and tore off Reyne's jewelry and stuffed it all into her pockets. "Damn, boys, this was worth it. Steal all the loot off the thieves, then pick off the nobles that get cocky enough to come out without escorts," she snorted, "Gotta listen to ye more, Nerem. Turn 'er on 'er back though. Don't wanna get blood on the rest o 'er."
She didn't even realize what the Dornish woman had meant until she was on her stomach and she felt the cold steal of the knife sink into her throat. She screamed, but it came out as a gurgle.
The last thing Reyne Rowan heard was the sound of the Dornish woman cackling in delight.
==========
"Oh, and her horsie, too! A horsie!" Aleida squealed, happy about her new dress. She'd been waiting so long for a dress that didn't get covered in gore in the process of acquiring it.
Nerem shook his head. "No," he larger man said, "It's a white mare, m'lady, too recognizable. They'd track you too quick."
"They can track me all they want, 's MY horse, MY dress," Aleida scrunched up her face and kneeled down to start dragging the noblewoman into the woods. "'Nd now this is MY skin!" she slipped her knife under the anonymous noblewoman's skin and started skinning the bitch. She'd been making a dress, see, and it was of the finest and rarest material. Human skin was the most expensive and she was surprised the rest of the nobility hadn't caught onto the new trend she was starting here!
"Lady Aleida, please, we have to go before a patrol finds us," Osgrim said, looking tiredly over his shoulder.
The Dornish woman pouted and took the skin she'd already managed to flay off and rolled it up and gave it to Nerem, who put it in his back with the rest of the skin she'd saved up to tan into leather later. "Fine. Get some wood and burn the bitch. Give back to th' lord what we took."
Osgrim raised an eyebrow. "Here? In the middle of the fucking Roseroad?"
"No, in my bloody fucking cunt. Of course 'ere on the Roseroad, you fucking halfwit piece of goat shit," Aleida spat. "... We'll leave the horse."
The pair of sellswords met gazes for a moment and in that moment they acknowledged how insane the woman they served was. And they decided that they had yet to really care, as long as there was some gold in it and a few good fucks out of the crazy bitch every once in a while. There was never a dull moment.
"I'll gather the wood," Nerem declared.
"What ya be doing that for? Just string the bitch up to a tree and set it alight!" Aleida raged.
And so in some amount of time they managed to string the Rowan girl up to a tree and set it alight. It didn't take too long. Lady Aleida kneeled before the fire and said a prayer to her god and they moved on.
When they started hearing the patrols nearby, Aleida veered off into the woods and started sprinting while her sellswords did their best to follow her.
"You fucked up, m'lady," Osgrim shouted after her.
"You shut yer whore mouth!" she jeered back and ran faster.