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Taking Over

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Cersie added a little more foundation to her face and Robert snapped, "You are pretty enough. Won't matter once the snow and sleet hit that delicate skin though. Woman as cold as you...shouldn't matter too much though, huh?" "You are slurring your words. You will be drunk before the damned plane lands. Wonderful, maybe you should be worrying about your own appearance."

Snarling, Robert said, "This move is all your fucking fault. We were happy in the warm South, the kids went to the best schools, just like you wanted." He ignored Cersie's choking on her own drink as his word "happy." "You had to go fuck everything in our stable of help, when you ran out, you just went straight to find your own brother? I mean, how disgusting and pathetic can you get? At least the whores I have aren't RELATED to me! You are why we all have to live in the land of Ice and Snow! Tywin doesn't need our help on this deal, trust me. He wants to leave us here to freeze to death after while he and his men go home! They will probably take our children with them!"

"Oh, as if you would notice? When was Joff's last birthday, Robert? Can you remember? If our daughter was kidnapped, you wouldn't be able to tell them what she looked like!" Cersie hissed as Robert sputtered indignantly. "How dare you? Bitch, I know what my daughter looks like!" Huffing, Joff turned from tormenting his siblings and yelled over the seat. "Oh really Dad? Okay, Mr. Baratheon your girl has been taken! Can you tell us what she wearing, Sir?"

They all waited tensely as Robert tried to recall what his daughter might be wearing today. It was always a sweater, kid had a thing for them. He knows because he buys her one every trip he takes and she always wears them upon his return. "A sweater!" He hollered and a stewardess started to share a meaningful look at her coworker.

Wincing, Tommen asked his father to keep his voice down. "What color sweater, Sir?" Asked Joff in a terrible impression of a Northern cop. "" Myrcella crossed her arms and stiffly said, "Scarves, not sweaters, are my favorite, father. Only you like to give me sweaters. I am wearing a teal scarf over a white shirt. Never mind, just let fate take its course. Might be better options out there."

Robert turned to try and slur apologies and threats all at once while Cersie started to hit him in the back. This prompted him to turn and hit his wife with his ring hand. "Dammit! Look what you made me do! Go fix your face before your father sees you, he'll kill us both!" Robert groaned as his wife hurried away, hands over her bleeding face.

"I fucking hate you. Bad enough you beat my mother in front of us, or at all! But you are making me marry some cunt that I don't even know. She is pretty, that is all I know and smart. Well, so is my mother and look at her life. Look how happy you are with her. Thanks for passing along that wonderful tradition for me, Dad. So which one of the younger two get the raging alcoholism?"

Minutes later, Joff was waiting for his mother to finish in the bathroom. When Cersie opened the door she gasped and pulled Joff into the tiny room. "I am so sorry, baby." Cersie carefully tended her son's bruises. A split lip and then Robert at least remembered to hit his son where it wouldn't show. Cersie stared at the ring imprints on Joff's back and chest. "I was defending you." Joff muttered and Cersie's eyes filled with tears. "We will find a way, I promise." "You always say that, Mother. We love you, but we don't believe you anymore."

Sandor listened with half an ear as the hated family bickered and fought. Sighing, he heard Joff whine to his mommy and he grimaced. A fucking nanny is all he was. Bodyguard to the Baratheon's was all his asshole brother would let him get. Gregor worked for Twin Lannister and could easily have vouched for his little brother.  Gregor told him that all the spaces were taken by his men but he had a great and very fitting position for Sandor. He almost managed to say it without laughing himself to death. Almost.

"As ugly as you are, you are lucky to even get that." Gregor had sneered and Sandor knew better than to complain. Since then he has suffered his brother and friends derision and name calling. Raff was quite fond of calling him Sandor Poppins. Moving North changed nothing for Sandor and he didn't really care where they went. It mattered plenty to his brother and his men. The South had been firmly their territory and they ran out of challenges quickly. North is a whole new place full of challenges. Sandor's biggest challenge would be to keep the Baratheon's from killing each other. Yawning, Sandor decided to nap until they hit ground.

Tywin Lannister sipped his drink and stared at snoring, drunk Tyrion balefully. Of course this was the son he had to have with him. Not handsome, capable Jaime, no it was the freak of his family. His one true shame and regret. Thanks to his whore of a daughter, Jaime had to be left behind to clean up the mess. Best to keep brother and sister apart for awhile anyway. Though Tywin is sure it was only a fluke, he doesn't want to tempt either of them. He grimly stared out the window and already could feel the bite of cold. His old bones hated the Northern wind but his need for domination made it worth the ache.

Gregor and his men were silent for the most part, ignoring all. Raff flirted with a stewardess softly but with polite care. She was not offended, in fact made plans to meet him as soon as the private jet had landed. He winked at the other men as the girl walked away. As soon as the landing happened, before everyone was allowed to leave the plane, Gregor and his men gang-raped the poor stewardess.Gregor took her first then Raff took her last. He had mainly been enjoying the pain and degradation she had suffered. When Raff took the girl, she was already very wounded and in shock. But he managed to find ways to make her scream and beg. Polliver watched grinning then drawled out, "I can get used to the North." 

Ned Stark grimly surveyed his family. They looked less like the welcoming, diplomatic and polite group he wanted and more like a prison task force. His wife Catelyn had her hair pulled so far in a neat militant bun and her black dress was so severe, it was clear she was the matron. All she needed was the baton.

Next to her stood his eldest daughter and matron in training or more like a nun defending the western front. He really couldn't understand what her outfit was. It was so shapeless with so many layers, her hair was hidden under a shawl. "Did you take vows, girl or have you cast off our family name for poverty in the deep North? Exactly what am I looking at?" Sansa glared at her father then primly said, "Just ready to meet my new husband. After all, don't want him seeing his new property till he has properly bought it, right?"

Rolling his eyes, Ned decided not to have THAT discussion again. Next was his daughter Arya and he didn't even bother to lecture. He just held his hand out and muttered, "Weapons." With a sigh that nearly blew his carefully arranged hair back further, Arya handed over two knives and a slingshot with pellets.  "Why have you dressed like the girl from Mad Max, my dear?" He knew better than to ask but luckily she just grinned at him.

Shaking his head, Ned looked at Bran. He was wearing an Assassins Creed cap, a Minecraft shirt and Arkham Asylum sneakers. "You look like a walking advertisement for Game Stop!" "Um..if that were so, I would be wearing Game Stop clothes." Ned tried to force the boy to stand straight then moved on to his little brother. Staring down at Rickon, Ned just sighed. "What is this costume today about? Are we going for Batman?" The smallest Stark stared up at his father with near hatred and disgust in his eyes. "I am Kylo Ren. How that hell does that even make you think Batman?"

Robb and Jon chuckled a little from where they leaned against the mantle place. "You two look like idiots. Did you think by wearing my shirts and jackets, no one could see the bullet proof vests? You look like damned penguins. And you probably bristle with weaponry. Give me anything more than your one allotted gun, right now." Ned went to get himself a whiskey while his eldest boys pulled out extra guns. "You would leave my boy unarmed?" Cat hissed and Robb winced. "Let it go, mother." 

Jon put down everything but his gun and stepped back. Not before Cat's hateful glare hit him, making him flinch. "Why can't Jon just go with you and leave Robb here with us? Why does Robb have to go and pick up the fucking Lannisters? With our luck, with YOUR luck, they will kill or take my boy hostage!" Slamming down his glass, Ned yelled, "We are all hostages, get it yet? Tywin fucked us over, he fucked the Boltons over. Frey fucking helped take us down, it is over!"

"I don't understand how Cersie fucking up her social status involves us? Why should we be punished for it?" Cat yelled and now Ned threw his glass to shatter against the wall. "Maybe if you ever saw or heard anything that wasn't in a glass or in a social paper, you'd remember what I tell you! It was the scandal that made the Lannisters move here to live. That was AFTER Frey already had fucked us all over! Remember now? Tywin already was screwing us over when Cersie caused the scandal. Only difference is instead of just sending their damned watchdogs, they are coming themselves to live here. Eventually, Tywin will leave, hopefully taking everyone he is related to with him. And if we all can have any luck at all, if the North stays united, we can take the North back."

Roose Bolton was lecturing his son for the fortieth time. "You will cause no trouble. The boys will cause no problems. We can bide our time and wait them out." Ramsay nodded and shifted his feet, bored to tears by his father. When he moved, he felt his pet start awake and tried not to smirk down at him. Reek will worry if Ramsay will punish him for dozing and that amused him long enough to endure the rest of his father's lecturing. Damon was oiling his whips in the garage while Skinner polished his best blades and Alyn was loading guns. Ben was readying his attack dogs. Ramsay thought of this and assured his father, "We will cause no trouble or problems."

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They all watched as Ramsay and his boys pulled in last. As the plane was landing. Roose gritted his teeth and asked, squinting in the snow, "How can you leave at the exact same time that I did and yet you get here a half hour later?" Then Roose snapped at the same time Robb started to come forward growling a bit. Ned grabbed Robb's shoulder and cautioned, "Do not pick a fight, it never ends well for any of you. If you really care for Theon as much as you say you do, you won't start a fight. You know who will be bearing the brunt of it later on, son."

Wrenching away from his father's grip Robb stayed silent. "Why did you bring him along, Ramsay? We have no use for him here. wanted to piss off Robb didn't you? Well, only your pet gets punished for your stupidity yet again. There is no safer place for him to be then with the boys, he can ride back with them. You are here to work only, remember?" Roose stared down his angry son and simply waited. Ramsay ground his teeth but then nodded. "He can stay with me until then, can't he?" Ramsay forced his voice to sound pleasant but Reek gave a tiny shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

It warmed Ramsay and he pulled the thin frame nearly swallowed in Ramsay's old coat into his chest. Thin gloved hands missing a finger or two clenched tightly at his coat and Ramsay grinned at Robb. "Mr. Bolton, we can let Theon rest in our warm car until they need it. Really, I don't mind at all." Offered Robb and Ned sighed, shaking his head. Why does his son get so stubborn over the stupidest of things? Ned honestly thought when he gave Roose charge of Theon it was for the best.

Ned had kept the boy as a hostage since he was ten years old. When Cat started to complain that the arrogant little bugger was experimenting with Robb, Ned beat him half to death. The boys were thirteen when that happened and Jon was also having issues with Cat. So Ned figured Cat would let it go. Then she caught Robb kissing Theon, on top of the boy. She not only tried to murder Theon then and there, but beat Jon just for walking by.

Roose's brat has been after Theon since Ned brought the boy home. Every holiday Cat would have Ned send Theon to the Boltons, so Ramsay remained quite fond the boy it seemed. The only reason Jon didn't spend his holidays there too was because that was something Ned put his foot down on hard. His children would attend his holiday festivities. How would that have looked to others? But since Theon was always spending vacations with the Boltons, it was natural that Ned would send him to live there. It was a mercy, really. At least the boy would be with a family he already knew. And Roose would never allow Ramsay to truly harm the boy.

Ned lost the closeness he had with Robb the day he forced his son to the ground, while Theon was dragged away. It never returned and Robb's obsession with Theon only grew. The more apparent it became that Ned had made an error in judgement, the more Robb pulled from his father's influence. He tried to get Ramsay to return Theon many times, but that was one thing he couldn't force. He needed Roose on his side in this infernal war-zone, now more than ever.

Even now, the boys all in their early twenties and it still went on. Ned knew it drove Roose as crazy as it did him. And he also knew that Roose has a bit more leash on Ramsay, but not by much. Therefore, the two rarely worked together on any business projects. Today was a show and there was no choice. "Never mind, we don't have time for that Robb. The plane is landed. Here they come."

Ramsay pushed his boy away and said, "Go stand behind the boys and obey them, Reek. Good boy." Robb snarled at Ramsay's smirk. "How could you bring him into such a dangerous situation?" He hissed as their fathers walked forward. Ramsay scoffed and said, "Who would hurt him? He is thin, weak and unarmed, he isn't a threat to anyone. He is also surrounded by my boys who wouldn't let anyone touch a hair on my Reek's head. Only you constantly think of stealing my Reek, Robb, no one else but you." Robb bristled and bit out, "His name is Theon."

Rolling his eyes, Ramsay drawled out, "We really don't have time for this argument. I renamed him at his fourteenth birthday party, you were there, remember? You tried to shove my head into the cake over it and your father strapped you in front of us all. Remember? It was a lovely day, a great memory. Oh, look here comes your brother, finally off the phone. We could all have been shot to death while he crooned some EMO shit to his wild girl."

Jon had no idea why Robb was pissed at him and why Ramsay was smiling so nicely at him. "Time to work." Snapped Robb as they saw the Baratheons and Lannisters coming out. Suddenly, Ramsay and Robb were shoulder to shoulder, Jon on Robb's other side as closely. North may bicker but it sees South and closes shut. 

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Reek slid and staggered through the ice and snow towards the boys. With an impatient sigh, Damon reached out and yanked him into their small group. Shoving the frail boy behind him Damon muttered, "I told Ramsay to leave you home with Jeyne. Get back next to Ben and stay quiet." Nodding, Reek let Alyn shoved him into Ben who maneuvered the shivering boy half behind him. "Stay." Reek obeyed the gruff voice and showed no emotion on his face. Just in case there was any, he kept his face low to look at the snow.

He blinked away tears from the cold and ice in his eyes, but the boys would probably think he was crying in fear. Which was silly, Reek didn't fear any of Ramsay's boys. Not for a long time now, but they seemed to think he still did. The only ones Reek feared were Ramsay and Roose. And only the fear of Roose was intolerable.

A while back, it is hazy as to when but awhile back, Reek started to love, not just fear his Master. He saw it was the only way to survive it and so Theon went away, surrendered. That is when Reek stopped fearing the boys because Ramsay didn't need them to hurt Theon anymore. Loving Ramsay was better, he was kinder then.

Oh, there was one other person that Reek was afraid of, that was Robb Stark. He was the only person that kept daring to attack Ramsay, to challenge him. It made Ramsay so mad and he can only go so far against Ned's son, so he takes it out on Reek. It wasn't fair because Theon was the one in love with Robb, not Reek. But this logic didn't matter when Ramsay was enraged. So Reek had begun to fear even hearing Robb's name and would instantly grovel with affection on Ramsay.

Reek's largest fear was that someday Robb will kidnap him. There was no doubt that Ramsay would come for him. The boys would probably beat the living hell out of Robb for it but Ramsay would come for his pet. He would make sure that Reek was not hurt by Robb first..then he would flay him for tempting the kidnapping somehow in the first place.

Jealous doesn't even begin to explain Ramsay. Reek silently agreed with Damon, he should have been left at home with Jeyne. Another way for Ramsay to rub something in Robb's face. When Robb started to date Sansa's friend Jeyne in high school, Damon swooped in. It was half to please his best friend Ramsay and half because Damon just liked the way the girl looked.

Damon was charming and funny, somber Robb was no match for it. Sweet gentle Jeyne became Damon's girl. To his delight, the girl did have a wild streak in her and slowly Damon dug it out of her fully. However, he never brought her to work and Jeyne was firmly aware of her place, same as Reek was. Jeyne had the whip scars to prove how hard it was for her to learn what Damon wanted of her. She did not wear a collar like Reek nor did she kneel or crawl around like Reek does sometimes. But Jeyne would no more dare to run or challenge Damon than Reek would with Ramsay.

Living in their first new place, away from Roose's home finally, Reek has been happier than ever. A two family house just blocks away but to Ramsay and Reek it was like going to another country. Finally, a place without Roose always over their shoulders. Ramsay and Reek took the bottom floor and Damon took the top floor with Jeyne. The other boys renovated the basement for times when they needed to hide out or crash for awhile.

Roose still called all the time and tended to drop by without warning on occasion but it was still tolerable compared to living under his roof. Reek and Jeyne visited with each other when they finished cleaning and caring for their men. Now here comes the Lannisters and Baratheons. Which means more close contact for Ramsay with Robb and this worries Reek greatly. Things had been going so well.

"Oh fuck, what the hell is that supposed to be?" Breathed out Alyn, staring at the gruesome burn on the giant man's face. He was young about their own age but he looked like a monster. "He is as large as you Damon, but way uglier." Shrugging, Damon stared at Sandor who looked ready to strangle a young blonde boy. "That must be Joff, Robert's oldest boy." He commented then Skinner whispered, "More like Cersie and her brother's incest baby from what I hear."

The boys all stopped talking at once and Reek found himself peeking up, past Alyn's shoulder. Gregor Clegane was the largest man Reek has ever seen and then those eyes seemed to land on him. He froze then moved back behind Ben. Shutting his eyes, Reek wished Ramsay had left him home more than ever.

Robert nearly ran to reach Ned before anyone else hoping it didn't look like he was running from his family. Giving Ned a hearty hug, Robert breathed at him, not noticing his target turning green at the fumes. "Dammit, good to see you, Ned. Sorry, so sorry how this all went down. I had no idea my father in law was stealing from us, none of course! Anymore than you knew what the Freys were up to, right?"

Robert sounded a mix between petulant and conciliatory. "I even begged Tywin, just let us come and deal with it. Since we already needed to leave the South for a small while but Tywin is an uptight asshole. He has to do it himself. Least we found a peaceful way to combine it all, no bloodshed, right? Joff and Sansa are going to be what solidifies us. Keeps us all safe from Tywin's greedy clutches a bit. Tywin will leave after a small while, then it is back to all us Northern men."

Roose and Ned shared a small look then Ned patted Robert's shoulder. "Of course. Don't worry we will all be fine here together." You fat pompous prick! We were high school buddies, turned college buddies, turned criminals, turned business partners! You got greedy for money and for polished blonde cooze!

Now here we are, fucked over because you went South, marrying the enemy! You drank and fucked everything around you while Tywin Lannister sucked us all dry through time! What do you have for it? Kids and a wife that hate you and now your friends hate you too. But Ned just smiled thinly as Roose shook Robert's hand. "Good to see you again, Robert." Roose said smoothly.

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Cat gave a final walk throughout the home she had finished for Tywin. She already toured the one for Robert and Cersie next door. Grimacing, Cat passed by Sansa. Every time Arya walked past her she called her, "Babushka." Cat agreed more with Rickon's assessment, that Sansa looked like a floating nun ghost haunting hallways.

It did no good to remind Sansa that Ned and Cat were an arranged marriage, that just set both Sansa and Arya off. Her head was throbbing and suddenly Petyr was there handing her a glass of champagne. "Here you are my dear. Calm yourself, the decorators were perfect. Everything has come out as you ordered, even the catering services are hailed in the South. You will be fine, I know you will."

Grinning at her life long best friend, Cat said, "Are you nuts? Nothing will be fine, not as long as the Lannisters and Baratheons are here. I am marrying my daughter to a boy I don't know except by a gruesome reputation. The son of a man I have despised all of my life! I am using more time, effort and money on a stuck up bitch that I hate than I do on my own family!"

"I am watching my entire family put themselves at the mercy of the South just to survive. And I can't stop laughing like it's some sort of bitter nightmare that I will bravely face until I wake up! This is worse than when Ned brought Jon home! I can't stand to lose my daughter so soon and to someone so awful! She isn't even finished with college yet, they can't expect her to really marry so soon, can they?" Cat wrung her hands.

Petyr shrugged and then gently guided the glass to Cat's mouth. "Calm yourself, darling. This won't do, don't let them see you sweat. You are better than that".  Cat drank a good portion of the glass before speaking again. Her bitter smile was still there and there was something playful, like a cat with sharp claws that is bored about her.

"Now darling Petyr, don't tell me you aren't worried as well. You have lived so long off of us society wives with your knowing where we all need to go for what....and you certainly keep our men entertained with your little side services. Now, with my rival, comes yours. Varys is riding on Cersie's skirts all the way North and he brings exotic new connections....exotic new side services too." With a very thin smile, Petyr remarked softly, "Now there is the cold bitch I know and adore. You worry about Cersie and I will worry about Varys. More champagne for both of us this time."

Watching her two sons go running past her hurling insults at each other, Cat sighed. They grew so fast, where did the time go? How could they possibly think Sansa was ready to marry? She was only nineteen, it was crazy. Reminding Cat that she was that young herself didn't help Ned's case any. It took several fights and then one night it came down to Ned's fucking belt while she was gagged. That is when she gave in but didn't stop complaining of it, oh no. The same as when Ned came home with his little whore's bastard.

It took Ned beating Cat for her to not kill the boy or cast him out the door. But as time went on she found ways of revenge. The most obvious was by treating the boy like the piece of filth he was but there was a darker thing. Cat might not be proud of it, but there it was, it was the sum of how much she hated Jon. Of how much she hated Ned ever since he cheated on her. Cat wished that she could have found a way to sell Jon to the Baratheons instead. If only Joff were a girl, she thought wryly. Or if only Ramsay could have found interest in Jon too.


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There are funeral processions in the North of prestigious dignified officials that moved with more joviality then the luxury vehicles carrying the families. 

Tywin Lannister and Gregor rode facing Ned and Roose. Not one to bother taking extra time with fake conversation, Tywin simply spoke of business matters. Ned and Roose were as icily polite as they could be and only Ned knew how hard it was for Roose not to put his pen into Tywin's eyeball. Ned himself was fairly certain that if that mutant wasn't sitting next to Tywin, that he himself would try and put an end to the old man.

"My wife has spent the past month working on your homes. We were able to get two homes right next to each other, as you requested." Ned said, thinking of the angry Pooles and the furiously insulted Karstarks. He had to bully them out of their homes, possibly losing their support for an uprising. Tywin simply nodded and thought about how large he remembered the Stark's stone mansion was. If his house wasn't big enough, he will simply move into theirs instead.

Robert and Tyrion sat as far from each other as they could get. They actually preferred speaking to the enemy rather than each other. Jon and Tyrion spoke of books they both have enjoyed while Robb and Robert made awkward conversation. "So Robb, what grade are you? Are you on the high school football team? Or do you still play baseball like when I used to live here?"

"Uh, I don't play sports much anymore. When I am not working for father I am at the University. I take classes and teach a few as well." "Oh. Well, you are only a year or so older then Joff! You two will get along well, I am sure. Good thing too, since he will be your brother in law soon." Robert drank from a flask while Robb wished he was in Ramsay's car. Even that prick was better than dealing with this buffoon who helped ruined all their lives.

Cersie and Joff sat next to Sandor who stared off into the distance. Ramsay was fascinated by the burns and wished he could ask to hear the story of them. Sadly, the man didn't seem like the talkative type. Cersie didn't either, she pretended that Ramsay didn't exist anymore than Sandor did. In fact, Cersie also didn't seem to notice her children either. She was drinking from a flask that matched Robert's, a prank gift from Joff that they actually enjoyed.

Ramsay watched Joff harass the living hell out of his little siblings. He seethed over this little blonde prick, he hated him almost as much as he despised Robb. If anyone should get to marry Sansa Stark, it should be Ramsay. It could have been a permanent power-hold between the Starks and Boltons to hold the North. Instead the fucking incest pansy prince-ling will get the prize and the power. It didn't matter that Ramsay hated the stone cold bitch who was way too much like her mother. It didn't matter that Sansa was revolted by Ramsay. It would have been worth it to solidify the North from the Lannisters. Even Sansa would have readily agreed with that.

The last vehicle in the somber caravan contained all the boys. A large sleek van with a padded bench that ran along both walls. The Bolton boys sat on one side staring at the Mountain's boys on the other. There was not an awful lot of talking, mostly just staring and the showing off of weaponry in the most dickish of ways. Raff kept trying to see the little cringing pretty thing the boys have with them. Uncomfortable with the staring, Reek has himself curled up behind Damon's broad back, nearly squished into the metal wall.

"Hey, hey there little mouse. What is your name?" Raff called over softly but Reek did not respond except to make a little whimpering sound. This was more interesting then the grandstanding and they all got involved. They tried everything to coax him out but nothing worked. Polliver even offered a chocolate bar, saying the boy could use some food. "Aww..come on, I just want to know your name..tell me and we'll stop asking, boy." Raff said reasonably and that prompted a response. Poking his head around Damon's back, huge eyes not meeting anyone's, the mouse squeaked, "Reek. My name is Reek. I am Ramsay's Reek."

"Oh? Reek, really? Your Ramsay must not like you very much to name you that. Luckily, it doesn't seem like you smell like your name. Come over here to me, little mouse. We will be nicer to you than your Ramsay." With a gasp, Reek ducked back behind Damon's back at Dusten's suggestion. Shrugging, a man only introduced to them as Tickler leered, tilting his head to see the shivering boy. "That's okay, if you don't want to play in the privacy of the van, we can play elsewhere later. Trust me, we can find you no matter who you scuttle off with. But when we catch you, you might not like where and how we play. Depends on how impatient you make us, I guess."

Damon growled and said, "No one is going to touch Reek. He is the property of Ramsay Bolton. We protect his property and no one will lay a single finger on what belongs to Ramsay." The southern boys started to laugh as if Damon just told the best joke they have ever heard. "Far as we know, anything that belongs to a Bolton or a Stark is pretty much the Lannisters' now. Besides, why would someone leave such a timid, helpless prey like that with predators unless it was a gift to be used. So just hand him over and we won't break the Bolton's bitch too much." Raff taunted and that was all the hot tempered Alyn needed to launch himself forth at him. Chaos reined moments later, fists and boots. No one dared to pull a weapon for fear of disobeying their direct orders. But no one said anything about a good old fashioned fist fight.

Reek managed to hide under the bench and he thought he could stay away from them all. He saw how wrong he was when Polliver grabbed his ankle, yanking him out. Screeching, Reek panicked, kicking the man in the face. This caused Polliver to bellow then crawl under the bench after Reek. Catching hold of the squirming, terrified mouse, Polliver punched him hard enough to knock a tooth out. "Little fucker!" Damon pulled Polliver out from under the seat and started to pound large fists into him. That is when the van stopped moving and the doors flung open.

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Ramsay and Gregor stood over the group of writhing bruised men, glaring. They all untangled and Ramsay called softly, "Reek, come here." With a grateful whimper, the terrified pet crawled from under the bench then flung himself against Ramsay. Grabbing the slight chin, Ramsay yanked Reek's head back. With an even softer tone, he asked, "Reek, who hurt you?" Skinner hollered, "Polliver knocked his tooth out. They wanted to rape him and we were protecting him but Polliver got past us under the bench."

"Surely my men explained that this was my personal boy, didn't they? And yet, you still dared to try and take my pet? Is this the way things are done in the South?" Ramsay's voice was deadly and Reek sobbed quietly into his Master's jacket, trying to burrow in. Gregor sneered, "Well, in the South we have courtesy. If someone leaves a pretty bit of prey unattended then it is assumed that it is fair game. Or perhaps a small welcome gift. My men made a very easy mistake to make. If you don't want your little toy to get used, then you should keep it with you or locked away. Since you didn't bad things happened."

Reek shivered as he could feel how very angry his Master was becoming. Before Ramsay could do more than take one step forward, Robb ran over. "What the hell happened to Theon? Ramsay, let me put him in my car until we leave! Clearly these southern cunts are beasts and will attack anyone they see that is weaker than them." Now it was Gregor taking the step forward but towards Robb. Cursing silently, Ramsay shoved Reek hard to Damon then went to stand next to Robb. Damon nearly threw the pet to Alyn who spun Reek against the van. No weapons, no words, just a hard fast collision. At the last second, Jon appeared nearly tossing his cell phone into the snow in his eagerness to join the fight. For another few moments the snow drift called Jon's name.

Before any damage could be done, there was an authoritative voice cutting through the need for violence. "ENOUGH." Instantly, Gregor and his men stepped away from the Northerners.  Robb and Ramsay might have continued to press forth if it weren't for the sight of Ned and Roose glaring at them. Tywin stepped forward and surveyed every one of the panting, bleeding men. "We are not here for a battle. Else you would have been given orders to bleed. I do not care what the reasons were. Do not displease me again, gentlemen. This is a day for new beginnings, it is a peaceful take over not an invasion."

Gregor and his men all nodded staying silent and attentive. They all walked away to leave the Northern boys fuming. "If I had even a a shred less dignity in my body, I would beat the two of you right here." Ned ground out as he steered his sons towards the looming monstrosity that the Karstarks have left for Tywin. "Rest assured that tonight you will be be feeling my displeasure. Now try to remember your duties to this family and act like Starks not Bolton beasts!" Ned growled as he shoved Jon and Robb into the foyer. They moved away from their father as quickly as they could, humiliated.

Robb went to the bathroom to fix his wounds before his mother saw him. The last thing he needed was his "smother" having cardiac arrest while dealing with an already tense situation. Robb was very aware of just how vindictive his mother could be and he hated it when she used him as a reason to cause cruelty to others. His mother used Jon as a whipping boy not just for their father but for Robb too. It was never that Robb was gay that set Cat off. No, what made her force Ned to send Theon away was her need to be the only influence in her beloved son's life. He hated her as deeply as he hated his father now but Robb never dared to let his mother know that. She was just too dangerous.

In a very soft voice Roose had informed Ramsay and his boys that they will all see him this evening after work was complete. "The only one who will not be line to visit my basement tonight will be my son's creature." Ramsay followed his father into the way too overdecorated home. The combinations of scarlet and gold were blinding. Clasping his hands behind his back, Ramsay tried to not think of how someone touched, hurt, tried to defile his property. He concentrated on work, silently patrolling opposite of Jon. Robb of course was a Stark pure-blood so therefore his job was to no longer guard but to play eldest son now.

Introductions were made and Tywin greeted each of the Stark females plus the two youngest boys with grim courtesy. Tyrion muttered courtesies and went straight for a drink. Robert drunkenly hugged Cat and shivered at how cold she was. Cersie and Cat met eyes with a soundless snarl, the bleached practiced smiles looked more like the baring of teeth. Joff looked at the young woman with snow white skin, bee-stung lips and arctic eyes. She could be hiding anything under those rags but he was reasonably certain she was curvy but not heavy. Her voice was smooth, articulate and very upper class and Sansa shook his hand without any reserve.

He hated her on the spot and he could tell that she felt the exact same way. "I am so glad to finally meet you. Shall we take a walk and you can show me about? I am eager to see where my family will live." Joff spoke sweetly as Sansa hooked her hand through his offered arm. "Oh of course! I shall take you next door and show you the things I spent time working on." She said agreeably enough. Together they strolled away followed at a distance by Arya and Sandor, both keeping distance from each other as well.

"I suppose I should escort you and the children to your new home." Cat and her sons led Cersie and her youngest two into their new home, leaving the men to discuss their own important matters. As the Starks and Baratheons toured the house the first warning shots from each side were courteously fired.

Chapter Text

Cersie strolled with Cat through the house, half listening as the woman gave her the basic tour. "Well, it is very rustic and charming to be sure. When it would get too hot in the South, we would abandon the mansion and go to a nice cabin in the Riverlands. It was very similar to this." The cultured soft voice was so pleasant you could melt butter on her poisoned words.

Cat gave a very small nod and a pleasant smile. "Oh, I know this will take some getting used to. I do hope you have enough furs in storage to make it through our winter holiday social groups. It will be a struggle for you, I know. You are very used to dressing a certain way and that is hard to do in our weather. Trading high heels for boots and fixing hair in thirty seconds or less is a Northern society girl's first lesson."

Joff and Sansa walked about until Joff picked the largest bedroom he could find furthest from the others in the house. "This is a good space for me, don't you think? Large, roomy and private." Sansa nodded and looked out of the large opal shaped window at the frozen garden. A good view of the forest and Sansa said wistfully, "I love this view from here. My room looks out onto the road and a driveway. It is very boring." He walked over and stood next her looking out the window. "You are right, it is really a good view." Without looking away from the snow covered trees, Joff said, "Do you normally wear that much covering or is this for my benefit?"

Sansa continued to look at the incredible view and replied, "It is a small way to rebel against my parents, I suppose. You could always call off the engagement." Snickering, Joff leaned against the windowsill and looked at Sansa. "I can't do that anymore than you can. So I guess we learn to live with each other. It can't even be a marriage in name only, more's the pity." He straightened up and sneered at the lovely, cold eyes.

"I hope you really aren't like your mother. From what I have heard, Ned had to go elsewhere because his wife was a stone cold bitch. Good news for you is, I can just bring a few high class girls in. I have no problem with getting kinky if need be so I can fill you with a child or two. I have heard of Petyr's side business...and Varys has always found me the right girls. If you are too ice cold for me to get it up for you, I'll have the girls get me going. Then I'll just push myself inside your dry cunt as I come. That should only take a bit before you breed. Starks breed like cattle."

Rising her chin then slowly turning her head, Sansa looked down her nose at Joff. "We are hardy folks here. And with it always being a bit chilly, we are a harder colder folks. I imagine it will be rough for you. Already your tan is fading and those circles under your eyes, you must be under a great deal of stress, Joff. Oh wait, that is a bruise and a split lip, not herpes, good. I hope you don't have any diseases from your whores but now that I am aware of your slut status...I will ask father for a full medical check up for you before we wed."

"If I could have a whore jerk you off into a cup then I could take a turkey baster and do it myself. It would probably be more pleasurable. And if I am cattle, so are you now. Here you are thrown into a new stable with a mare to mate. And from what I have heard, you aren't much of a stud unless you have lots of help. What do you prefer most for a kink? Skinning cats or beating whores? Maybe you can fill a cup for me from one of those options?" They stared at each other and then Sansa said politely, "I can take you through the garden if you'd like. It is actually prettier in the winter." Joff nodded and they barely managed not to flinch at each others touch as they walked out of the room.

Arya and Sandor followed them into the wintry yard and then the large man rumbled, "Why the fuck are you following me around, you little pissant?" It was bad enough he has to chaperon the brat in case he tries to skin his betrothed. But this strange little girl was following him, driving him batty with her hostile stares. Hard not to notice the way she was dressed or looked, that is fail number one for someone stalking others.

Arya had shoulder length hair that looked like it suffered a shock. Worse was it seemed like this was a purposeful crime done to her head. She had black eyeliner, black lipstick and add the strange hair on the short girl, Sandor thought she looked like a dark elf. Wearing ripped fishnet tights, black combat boots, leather shorts, green tank top and completed with a flannel shirt that fluttered around her. Clearly several sizes too big. She threw a parka on over this bizarre get up when they went outside but seemed unmoved by the freezing air on her legs.

"Because you are huge, scarred and scary following my sister around. When you get away from my family members, I will get away from you." The girl responded smugly and Sandor snorted. "What would you do to defend them? Chew on my ankle? Go home before I squish you, little girl." Raising her chin arrogantly, Arya claimed, "I could take you down. I would just have to be creative about it, is all. Look at your face and ear, or what is left of it. Clearly you are not infallible. Someone has managed to nearly destroy you before. It could happen."

Sandor leaned over Arya, sneering into her face and gave his most intimidating growl. "Little bitch, the only person who has managed to ever hurt me is my own brother Gregor. Have you seen the size of him? Anyone else who has tried to hurt me looks worse than me or is dead. So back off. Your mother would be angry to see her little girl trying to pick a fight with a grown man."

Arya gritted her teeth and her hands curled into fists as she stared unblinking back at the large, terrifying face. "I am not a little girl, asshole. I am sixteen years old. And you are only in your early twenties. I am pretty sure it would be more of a scandal for you then me if we fought. So you'd better hope I don't need to defend my siblings from you." Rolling his eyes Sandor says, "Why am I always surrounded by rich stuck up little cunts? When did I go from bodyguard to babysitter of the millennials?"  

Bran and Tommen walked around the house in silence at first. "You game?" "Yeah. You?" "Yeah. GTA5, Assasin's Creed, Walking Dead, Battlefront." "Cool, me too." The two spent the next half hour unpacking Tommen's computer and games.

Myrcella stared at Rickon and asked, "Kylo Ren?" Nodding, Rickon assessed her dress and asked, "Amy Pond from Dr. Who?" Grinning, Myrcella nodded and a friendship was born. "We have a cosplay group at the middle school, you'll like it." Rickon assured her as they planned new outfits together.

Chapter Text

Joff and Sansa came through the large kitchen with a set up meant for a professional chef. Of course, Cat has already set up interview for Cersie and Tywin for potential chefs and staff. It would only be a matter of time before they steal mine, she thought.

The kids greeted their mothers pleasantly and then headed for the garden out the patio door. If a photographer had popped up in a window or leaped out from the garden bushes, Joff and Sansa were ready for it. Her hand was placed lightly upon Joff's arm and they both had very pleasant smiles on their faces. Both mothers winced as the weight of their hatred for each other hit them. Worse was the guilt when their child looked at them, hoping their mommy will save them at the last minute.

A giant man with a scarred face lumbered through the room, next to him was Arya. Their faces were grim, they were focused on Joff and Sansa. Cersie lightly said, "Oh, it's lovely that you allow your children to be part of the business early. Now when does Arya get to train with weaponry? Who is her mentor?" Dryly Cat responded, "Arya has self appointed herself the bodyguard for Sansa today. My children are quite protective of each other. Once Sandor stops following Sansa, so will Arya."

Giving a tiny titter, Cersie leaned closer and nearly whispered, "Then I guess Sansa better get another house with more rooms. Because Sandor is my wedding present to Joff and Sansa. He shall guard them, he is very loyal to my son. So I guess Arya will have to move in with them. Well, you have so many children, you might not even notice for a few days. And think of how much easier it will be on you to have two girls out of your hair?" Cat smashed the damned expensive wine that she despises but Cersie loves. Grabbing the base of the bottle, Cat thrusts forward into the pretty cunt's face. Thrilling to the screams as she sliced through the golden skin, bone glistening and her face was fucking GONE! She twists the bottle into her eyes... 

Holding her head up, ignoring the lovely images in her head, Cat icily responded. "It wouldn't be proper for a newly married couple to have a sibling come to their new home right away...though I DO see your point about Sandor though. So perhaps I shall join this strange version of southern helicopter parenting. Maybe I should send Robb to stay with them for awhile, then when he cannot do it, we shall send Jon. So see the benefit to a large family? I just can keep sending the siblings "

She managed to say Jon's name without her hatred of him bleeding through the words. Cersie smirked and said, "Of course its proper to have visits, even sleepovers but they shouldn't all come solely to guard their sister. If that happens then we have a small issue. In the South, we use family members only until a bodyguard is found. If you have different ones all the time on the look weak. One bodyguard or chaperon is reasonable and acceptable. Since you were kind enough and Arya is so willing to help her sister, I appoint her as chaperon and bodyguard of her sister. And I will see to it that she gets the classes she needs to train. Thank you very much for that wonderful idea, darling. I will go to Tywin and let him know. I think he will be as thrilled as I am for this amazing gift you gave the wedded couple." 

Cat wanted to use her sharp nails to dig out the bitch's eyeballs. How dare she? How dare she take BOTH of her daughters? Sansa was the one that liked, loved her, almost as much as Robb used to. She never really got along with Arya, they were so different from each other. The only times since she was very young that she kissed or hugged her mom was for the media or the socialites. Otherwise her daughter was a sarcastic, hateful sneaky brat.

One time after Cat had a few "bad days" she got up to discover that Arya had emptied out every bottle she could find. Cat was severely fucked on that one. She lost her mind and stormed into the little bitch's room. Walking over to the blinds, Cat removed the plastic rod that is used to open and shut the blinds. Cat didn't notice the window open, she had a focus. Arya tried to run and she was caught at the door. The beating Cat gave her daughter was ruthless and brutal. Sansa, Robb, even Jon pleaded for her to stop. The little ones watched and cried, not understanding. Jon ran to go get Ned and she began to hit her harder. Finally, Ned pulled her away from the hoarse voice screaming for "her to end it."

However, she does LOVE her daughter because Arya is a Stark and she must love her family. Loyalty and love is what they were taught. How could she put both daughters into such an awful situation? Cat pursed her lips and her steely glaze caught Cersie's satisfied one. "There is no reason for me to send a teenage girl to stay in a newlywed's home. It would be incredibly awkward and inappropriate. In the South, perhaps such things would not raise an eyebrow or so I have heard, but in the North we have a higher moral and ethic code. This would be a scandal for both our families, dear." Cat stood ramrod straight, the same satisfied gleam hitting her icy eyes as she saw the insult hit home. Well bitch, you sent the first shot.

Cersie took a moment to finish her champagne then gave Cat a mere twitch of a smile. "You are right, of course. Thank you Cat for reminding me of your Northern ways. So I will rectify this problem instantly. Ah, I have it! The happy couple can stay here after they are married, at least for awhile. We have so much room, too much really. So Joff and Sansa can pick some out of the way spaces in one of the wings. Sandor already lives in the house with would be entirely appropriate for Arya that way! Who could find fault with Arya staying with all of us, a strong values, high class family? I would make sure her room was near Myrcella's of course. And since the girls go to the same school, our driver would take her to and from everyday. No more buses, like you had to go must have been hard to send your children out like that. Well, I am glad you reminded me of your rules. That is all settled, isn't it Cat? I will go tell my father immediately."

Cat wrapped her hand firmly around the heavy bottle. She is taking my daughters hostage and laughing while she does it. I have to explain to my husband how I just lost our other daughter. As Cersie put her glass down, Cat began to raise the bottle. Then Myrcella and Rickon burst into the room babbling. "Mother! Mother! Where is the box with my cosplay stuff in it? I NEED IT NOW! MOTHER YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! HE IS KYLO REN AND I MUST AVENGE HIS FATHER!" Cersie started to argue with her screaming daughter and Rickon started to try and dissect Cat with his light saber. Still clutching the bottle, Cat decided to take a swig from it before setting it down.


Chapter Text

The Northern night was chilly, the wind was spitting ice as if offering it's derision upon the rich neighborhood. Lovely houses, decorated tastefully for the holidays, all three with twinkling white lights all along the mansions frames. It was as if the wind knew what was happening inside those homes. The wind shrieked but there was other sounds that were drowned out by it. Trees whipped branches over the windows as if trying to assist in hiding the atrocities within.

Tyrion was in his room far from the others in the new Lannister home. He was taking advantage of Petyr's side services. This had put Varys in a snit of course but Tyrion wanted to try someone new. Tyrion said to the haughty bald man, "You said you needed to have a good reason in order to correctly meet Petyr. Well, here it is! You are welcome!" Tyrion distrusted and despised Petyr upon sight. The soft raspy voice and ferret look about him was bothersome. However, Tyrion had to admit he could really pick the right whores for the right customer. This buxom redhead leered at him when she came to his door and saw him. This was usually the worst part, when Tyrion had to pretend not to notice the surprised or disgusted look. That is really why Tyrion only sleeps with the same ones over and over. Varys had offered him other girls..but he prefers ones who already have the fake look on their face upon entering.

This girl was different. "Oh, hey! He told me you were a dwarf, an infamous one! But he didn't say a handsome one. I fucked two dwarfs at once for four hours straight." Ross leaned over so he could see her cleavage as she leered at him. He couldn't believe she actually was LEERING at him. "Let me tell you sweetheart...I have fucked so many times and ways..but that was something that only happened once. And ya know what? They actually did make me come once out of the whole thing! I don't normally come at all and most clients don't give a shit if I come. I mean, its all about the customers, right? But these were goddamned polite gentlemen! They didn't choke me with their cocks just to laugh about it like a lot do. They never hurt me once in any way and they actually licked me together until I screamed in pleasure. So when I heard the great Tyrion fucking Lannister has moved to town...oh! I heard of you from some of Varys's girls that we chat with. I heard that just like my clients that one lovely like to let your whores get a little bit of fun. The second Petyr said your name, I leaped up so close, I scared him half to death!" Tyrion decided the North offers at least one good thing for him and reached for Ros. "I swear to you all the rumors are true and I shall prove it, lovely lady!"

Tywin did not approach Cersie until she was in her room getting ready for bed. Tywin put on a jacket, left his house and marched through the snow to his daughter's new home next door. He used his key to enter and left wet footprints on the new carpeting. Without knocking, Tywin entered her bedroom. Cersie knew well enough not to bother locking the door. She was well aware he would wish to speak with her about what she had done. Even though Tywin had firmly agreed to taking Arya in, it irritated him to do so. It has angered the Starks and Boltons. Tywin does not wish to set them off yet. He wants them to stay compliant until the slaughter. Giving them cause to rebel does not fit his plans. However, in front of these proud folk that he was trying to take over, then down, he could not disagree with his daughter. It would look weak and Cersie knows it. How many times has his children used this against him? Countless. They always hate the consequences. But never enough, it seems. Only Tyrion may be the outwardly freakish one in the family, but all three seem to possess that stubborn streak of rebellion.

Walking straight up to his lovely daughter, standing in only a thin nightgown that he can almost see her nipples through, he hit her. A hard fist to Cersie's stomach and she bent down with a "WHOOF" sound. Standing over her, Tywin asked in a clipped tone, "What did you think you were doing? How dare you cause strife when we touch our first foot on the snowy ground! Do you intend to cause me just as much scandal here as you did at home?" Cersie shook her head frantically, her hair flying about. Tywin grabbed the thick tresses and yanked her head up. "I cannot hear you. Do you plan on causing me any scandals? Because if you do I will cut you and your loser husband off in a heartbeat, tossing you and your fat ass husband out into the snowy night. I will of course raise the children for you. Lord knows, they need someone to give them true rearing."

Cersie hated it when her father threatened to do that. She believes him, he has done it once before to them. "No, Father. I won't cause any scandals." A few years back things got a tad out of control between her and Robert. Each kept trying to up each other in debauchery among other things. Both stayed drunk and angry around each other. Robert started hitting her more often, even though he kept telling her he enjoyed watching Cersie try and outdo him. She had actually hoped to show him how his behavior was, but he missed the point of the lesson. At least that is what she told herself while she drunkenly rode a bartender in a backroom at a strip club. It all came to a head one rainy night.

Tommen had a fever and the nanny couldn't reach either of the parents. So she rushed the boy to the hospital, in a panic forgetting the other two children. Myrcella woke up from a nightmare and found no parents to comfort her. She ran to her brother's room and he was gone too. So she went to Joff and that was a bad mistake. At the hospital, the receptionist checked the records and called Tywin Lannister. He was at the hospital in seconds to assure himself that Tommen got the best treatment. He asked the nanny who was with the other two children. The girl turned pale and he told her she was fired. Tywin made a quick phone call. It was Gregor that found the eleven year old boy beating and raping Myrcella.      

That very night Tywin packed all of Robert and Cersie's possessions, had them delivered to each of them. Robert received his boxes at a casino. Cersie got hers at her current lover's house, her younger cousin Lancel.  Calling his favorite real estate agent, Tywin told her to rent out the house for four months. He told the drunk couple they could live without the income he provided, the home he provided and the children they couldn't seem to care for. "Consider this your first warning. You will go live in an apartment I have secured for you. You will work the jobs I have provided for you. You will not go to stay with your friends, or try to get any loans for me to pay off later. You will work and live there for four months. If you have kept the apartment and jobs for the entire time, you may both come back. If you fail, I will get custody of your children and cut you off completely." For four months, it was living hell. The apartment was in a stinking slum. Cersie had to work at a fast food restaurant serving a caliber of folks that left her cold and shuddering. Robert was worked nearly to death in a factory. Both worked, ate, drank, slept and started over again. It was brutal and with a sense of bitter pride, they completed their time.

Tywin had certainly cared for those children better than their parents. He had Varys find a very good and discreet psychiatrist that was known for his controversial work in mind control and brainwashing. The man was truly excellent and he repressed Myrcella's memory of what Joff had done for years at least. He had pulled Joff from his public school (because the nearby private school had expelled the boy) and he shoved him into a military school. The very same one Tywin himself had attended. Tommen was already in an excellent private school and was doing quite well. He mainly spent time instructing his very young grandson in the ways of the world. Of course it all changed when Robert and Cersie came back.  They pulled Joff back home, Myrcella was removed from therapy. Cersie only visited with her father for holidays and when she was summoned. Robert had no choice, he worked for the man. But both of them kept out of any severe trouble for a few years. Until his slut of a daughter decided to seduce her own brother. He snarled at his daughter, allowing her to see his revulsion then he left.

When Robert came home finally, he stunk of whiskey and cheap perfume that did nothing to cover the smell of sex. Cersie smiled at her fat stinking pig of a husband and wondered what she had ever seen in him. True, it was an arranged marriage and at first she was against it. But in his younger years Robert was handsome and clever with words, making her laugh. It ended quickly about three months into the marriage Cersie saw the real man. On their first anniversary, Robert gifted Cersie with her very first black eye and broken wrist. She had made a special dinner for them with some very high society folks and he didn't feel like showing. "It is our anniversary and we have to share it with assholes I hate? I am going to Vary's place." When she tried to stab him with a fork, he suddenly became an enraged bull. They would never stop fighting or hating each other from that moment forward. Cersie has already added a little more antifreeze to Robert's drink, as she always does.

Gregor was unmoved by tears, screams, pleas for mercy and offers to do anything to make it stop. Of course it is not usually his own men that are recipients of his torture. It is strange to hear his own deadly, sadistic men sound like victims and it amused him. Good. I hope it humiliated the shit out of them. I hope they have fucking nightmares. To have lost control in front of Tywin was unbearable. He blamed it firmly on his men and Bolton's boys. Tywin delivered a scathing lecture that hurt worse than physical pain. It injured Gregor's pride. Also he was just docked two week's pay for his own involvement in the fighting. So he is taking his pay and his injured pride out on his men. He spoke in a rumble that somehow was heard through the squealing misery of the men.

"You should all be feeling very lucky right now. In fact, tonight before you sleep if you even can sleep...I want you to each get on your knees and praise the name of Tywin Lannister. Because if he didn't need you all intact, you would end tonight in the fucking hospital with several broken bones. Instead, you are getting a creative little punishment I learned in the West. It is something they do to the slaves that don't wish to behave but must be kept pretty, in good health. It is incredibly painful and shaming, messy too, isn't it? But look at your bodies, sure, you are shaking and sweating, but no broken bruising. What an interesting name for it too. Rectal infusion. Thank goodness, Tywin's new chef had a good supply of several types of fresh hot peppers for me to blend up. Yes, this will be my new punishment for my men. Now..let's do one more round and then you can all BEG MY FUCKING FORGIVENESS AT MY FEET LIKE THE GROVELING BITCHES YOU ALL ARE!"

Chapter Text

The stone mansion that housed the Boltons for as long as the stone atrocity across the street housed the Starks. Both homes looked grim as if storms always must stop here first. Inside both homes there was warmth, lighting and shelter but the air was as cold as the folks who lived inside of them.

In the home of Roose Bolton, many men were crying like little boys. Like Ned Stark himself, Roose agrees that the Northern way of running a family and business must be ruthless. They took their discipline as seriously as they took their work. Ramsay was leaning over his father's hard oak table. He was gripping the edge and trying to bite through his lip to keep from screaming. 

Reek was under the table sobbing for his poor Master and it helped a bit. Yet when Roose finally peeled that long thin length of skin from Ramsay's left buttock off, he screamed out loud. He was then made to stand still while his ass burned horribly and endure a long lecture from his father. He was in tears by the time Roose allowed him to leave the room.

Reek helped his Master upstairs and treated his wounds. Then he ran to find the hidden stash of painkillers. Shoving three into his Master's panting mouth, Reek started to hum and rub the thick black hair covered in sweat. If I show enough affection, enough love maybe he won't hurt me for any of it.

He proved correct and his Master instead clung to his pet as he waited for the painkillers to kick in. "Poor baby, I am sorry they tried to put their filthy hands on you. It will never happen again, Reek." Using his mouth to show gratitude, Reek was clever enough to know how to distract Ramsay from jealousy and anger.

Locke, Luton and Yellow Dick took charge of the punishments for the Boys. However, it was exactly done as Roose commanded. Damon was whipped to tears by his very own favorite whip. Skinner lost the small toe on his left foot to his own blade. Alyn was beaten until he curled up whining like a broken animal.

"Now, you will heal and you will get the fuck back to work. Without anymore fucking problems, shall we? Good. Stupid fucking assholes, get out of Roose's house and go home! Tend your damned wounds, get your crying done with. Then pull up your Big-Boy pants and get the fuck back in the game!" Locke made sure to give a good kick to each of their whiny asses as they each sniveled out the door.

The Starks house was strict and cold as the Boltons, but with less bloodshed. Ned wasn't as violent as Roose was but he was certainly a believer in corporal punishment. He never spared the rod though he was sure that they spoiled their children to an extent. Not compared to the Lannisters perhaps, but more so than say the Boltons.

So Robb and Jon had presented themselves, pants pooling at their ankles, hands over their private areas. Ned wielded a strap and words as heavy as a sword. Both boys took it with as much masochism as possible but eventually Robb was sobbing and Jon was crying out with each blow. As soon as the boys were striped pink from shoulder to calf, Ned stopped.

"Jon, you will not be seeing your little wild girl for at least a week's time. You will be practicing your dedication to your work, both for me and your schooling. That means no long cell phone conversations with Ygritte instead of focusing. Robb, you will not interfere any further in the affairs of Theon Greyjoy. I have decreed this a thousand times but this time I am making it stick. I have need of you, this time is so crucial for us! We cannot afford distractions, you cannot afford any distractions. If you go near that boy again in any way, Robb...I am going to not just marry Sansa off, but you as well. Think boys, your sisters are both going to be the Lannisters hostages! Because of Cat's stupid mouth, I have now lost Arya to them! We must be careful and plan very carefully how to save ourselves and them!"

Sighing as if tired and disgusted, Ned waved his hand at the boys. "You are dismissed, go to bed." He slumped into his chair to drink and watched as his disgraced sons slunk away in humiliation and pain.

Sansa and Arya were sitting on the roof in the chilly air sharing a joint. "So are you really going to marry him?" Asked Arya as she lay back staring at the uncaring moon. Nodding slowly, holding the smoke as long as she can, Sansa wished herself to fly.

Then she could leave this fucking pile of rocks forever. At least if she was to marry the prick, she could at least live in a warm sunny place. Maybe once they marry, she can convince Joff to leave this place.

"I have to. Are you really going to learn how to become my bodyguard?" Sansa asked as she lay down next to her sister, her little pint sized, temper tantrum prone sister. "I am. I have to." Sansa shook her head and said, "Well, the Lannisters suck, my fiance sucks, this whole thing sucks..but there is one bright spot out of it."

Arya raised an eyebrow and asked, "Oh yeah? And what would that be?" Giggling, Sansa managed to get out, "At least we won't have to be around mother anymore. No more gargoyle training." Both girls descended into stoned laughter that might have been mistaken for real humor. 

Jon ached as he climbed the stairs. He wanted to go lay down and take some Advil for his terrible pain. Maybe call or text Ygritte, let her know he is grounded but he can't yet. Whenever there is turmoil, whenever Ned fights with his wife, or whenever she is drunk or lonely, Cat gives Jon a quick look. It is nothing for anyone to wonder about except that when Jon receives the look he still cringes.

Tonight after Ned nearly hit Cat over losing Arya to the Lannisters, she gave that glance. Jon has been receiving that look since he was seven and knew exactly what it meant. It took time and painful training for Cat to make sure the boy knew what to do and never to tell. Jon even knew that sometimes, not always, but on occasion Cat even felt bad, felt guilty for what she made him do. But not enough to overcome her hatred of Jon and her bitterness towards Ned.

Ned sat in his study for hours brooding, as was his normal routine. Robb was in his room, fantasizing about Theon. The little boys were asleep and the girls were stoned on the roof. No one was there to see or hear Jon go into the master bedroom.

Cat was wearing only her blue bathrobe, though she has others, Jon always sees her in this one. He shuts and locks the door and turns as she shuts out all but one light. There are no words, rarely does Cat speak and she hates it if Jon talks.

Standing near the bed, holding the bedpost for support, Cat lifts her left leg to put her foot onto the mattress. Opening her bathrobe, Cat makes a vulgar movement with her pelvis and Jon got the message. As he always has done and will continue to do until he can free himself, Jon drops to his knees. Then crawls forward until he is between his step mother's legs. Using his tongue and fingers, Jon makes Cat moan and yank his long curls hard.

"Yes, that's it. Come on little cunt-licker, its all you are good for, bastard. Your mother was a whore, so you are too. So make me come, little whore." She would hiss as she is close.  As Jon's excellent work pays off, Cat begins to climax and she whines out, "Oh, I hate you so much! I hate you, hate you." Jon feels her wetness spread across his face, then she kicks him away hard.

Without a word, Jon gets up and leaves as fast as he can. With the lingering feeling of her hated step-son still buzzing between her legs, Cat went to bed and hoped Ned wouldn't want to fuck when he finally made it upstairs.

Chapter Text

The two girls never looked better in their whole lives. Sansa looked as if she has stepped out of a fashion magazine. The heels she wore were not only a one of a kind original but they were two inches higher than Cersie's. And that has always been Cersie's trademark, was to be the only one with priceless, incredibly dangerously high heels.

In that grand moment alone, Cat was never more happier or in more love or prouder with her daughter since she was born. She has become officially betrothed to Joff and moved into the Baratheon home with gentle grace. True, she has barely spoken to her parents since the day she met Joff, but no matter. Eventually Sansa will adjust to her new life and by the time kids come along, she will want her parents back in her life.

Arya was tone, she was fit and she was as accurate and deadly as any new recruit. She stood tall and proud, next to her sister, watching for danger. Ned had gone to see her training and was impressed as hell. He could only watch some of it, Gregor didn't allow visitors beyond the basic exercise area. What he did see was a relentless weight lifting session, a somewhat brutal karate lesson and a rather bullying personal trainer. Arya took it all stoically and slowly achieved what was demanded of her. Ned was prouder of her than of his own sons.

And that was without knowing about how they water boarded her, taught her defense by beating her with Bo staffs among other things. Without knowing that she cried at night, her pains were so bad she couldn't sleep most nights. However, she took her move with silent proud grace alongside her sister. It wasn't very long before she became as silent, sarcastic, stoic and bitter as Sandor. Ned regretted that she no longer spoke to her parents, but Arya will come around.

Ned had to give up his office to Tywin and make a new one for himself. His status was suddenly a step lower in the cooperate world and it stung like hell. Roose had to give up his office to Tyrion and fire his best employee to take his office. Where Ned ruled the upper crust, Roose ruled the working classes.

His factories, his warehouses, all the way to some other interests all had shades of grey to them that he wanted kept secret. He resented having to shift and bury things in order to hide them from a fucking dwarf. Robert was sent to most punishing, demeaning yet out of the way location possible. He sat at a desk of the Stark Historical Fundraising Society and pretended to work and not just get drunk, seething.

Cat had the displeasure of escorting Cersie and introducing her into Northern Society. She had to smile gracefully as Cersie cut those most important to Cat. Cersie had to tolerate the utter boredom and cold prim blandness of Northern Society. She had to smile gracefully as that horrid cunt Cat and her prune faced friends all laughed at Cersie's disdain and discomfort.

They despised each other and yet they were the best of friends according to every gossip rag that found them. Because of their men, because of their children these two were now eternally tied to each other, doomed to hateful companionship. Together they argued over the wedding plans so badly that Petyr and Varys had to come in as referees more than consultants.

Varys and Petyr were having their struggles as well. Blatant and not so blatant sabotage has been happening to shipments for both. Spies and double agents were so thick that paranoia was running rampant among employees. Their usual traders and clients were thrilled and enjoying raising their demands to see which can supply at the best prices.

Ramsay and Robb found themselves having to work together, much to their great dismay. Robb was still banned from asking anything about Theon, so therefore Ramsay took great joy in tormenting him about the pet. The only time the two of them were not locked in argument was when they were on duty. They escorted those of importance, they took charge of up-keeping certain loans, bribes and negotiations. Ramsay's boys provided all the back up and threat needed.

Gregor and his boys were in charge of keeping personal safety of the Lannisters, as well as providing the reaction if the boys' threat was not heeded. Sandor took care of the Baratheons and he also watched over the little Stark brat though he never let her know that. Jon had become so into Ygritte to escape his shitty family and his position there that his father no longer found him any good work. He is now mainly in charge of getting messages and sensitive deliveries from one place to the next. He is in charge of himself and four other messengers.

One of them is Ygritte and that was only after Ned discovered that she had worked for Mance Rayder. One of Ned's main competitors in the North. He was in need of staying in good graces with other Northerners right now. So when Mance told Ned he was happy to lend Ygritte, he had no choice but to say yes. Luckily, she was one of his most dependable new recruits. Joff is the most popular rich asshole to hate in town. He has an office he has never visited at the same building as his father. He will never go to it, something he vows fervently.

Instead he starts at the University and parties his way through his day. He never misses any social obligation that he must attend with his fiance however. Smiling with love and admiration, he will whisper insults to Sansa as they dance together. They have a hatred so perfectly suited that it almost is a fond thing. They look forward to the battles with each other more than with anyone else.

Just to relieve tension enough to truly keep his "words only" battling with his fiance, Joff has Petyr supply him with whores that don't mind screaming and bleeding. Just like his father, Joff knows enough to wait until Sansa is his and behind closed doors before using other means of fighting. Then they will see just who has the upper hand.

Chapter Text

Cersie stared at Cat without blinking then slowly said, "What the hell is a winter block party?" Myrcella rolled her eyes as Tommen bemoaned, "Mother, you are such a high class out of touch snob! Haven't you even seen one in a movie?" Absentmindedly, Joff smacked his brother in the back of his head with a heavy butter-knife. "Don't be so rude to our mother!" Sansa barely had time to move out of the way before Robert reached past her to crack Joff in the head with his own butter-knife. "Don't hit your brother!" 

Cat gave a tiny fake smile to them all and commented lightly, "Ah, family breakfast time always brings out the roughhousing. I had not meant to be so rude, I forgot in the South things are slower. We had breakfast an hour or more ago and I just knew you would need to hear of the seasonal block parties. I had remembered that you have never attended one, Cersie. I wasn't sure if Robert had mentioned them or not. Basically the entire neighborhood will set up heated booths on the street or simply open their houses. We all share food and drink we create, some folks also offer games and sports havens for the men. Others create areas for children or teens. For a good amount of neighbors, its a good way to show off some artwork, for others to show and maybe sell some crafts or services. A skating rink is set up and there are sleigh rides through the snow as well."

"I don't understand. That sounds like a market, an open air market or a fair. We have those in the South, we don't perform them in our streets where our homes are." Robert sighed and texted Varys to hurry and soothe his wife before he ends up having to deal with her. Once Cat leaves, Robert knows who Cersie will turn on. "It gets cold and dark here for a long time in the winter, this is a tradition from way back. Here is a list of what you may wish to have for it. I will let you get back to your meal, call me later with any questions, Cersie." Cat waved to the others but only the two youngest waved back. Sansa has not looked nor spoken to her mother willingly in weeks now.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Cat could hear Cersie and Robert yelling at each other. At first she grinned, then she frowned catching sight of Arya. She was sitting with that ugly behemoth that watches over the Baratheons. Her daughter should be in school and not freezing while eating a fast breakfast during early surveillance practice. Cat tried to wave but Arya was as stubborn as her sister. A sense of determination came over her and she stormed towards Arya. "Young lady, I wish to speak with you." Sandor shook his head angrily and Arya ignored her mother, walking faster to get away. "YOUNG LADY! ARYA STARK, DO NOT DARE TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!" Her temper has risen and Cat would be damned if her daughter would just snub her.

A large shadow came over her and Cat looked up, gasping. " dare you get in my way! That is my daughter!" Gregor looked down and grumbled out, "On her time off she is your daughter. Right now she is on my time. She cannot be disturbed on my time, Mrs. Stark." Cat huffed but she turned and went back to her house carefully moving past the ice. Just to walk inside and encounter an angry husband. "You haven't run a block party in four years, Cat! What the fuck are you trying to do to me?" The fighting allowed Robb and Jon to both get out of the house before being noticed. They weren't in the mood for anymore fighting, but they weren't talking to each other either. Robb blamed Jon for his position with Ramsay. If Jon had been more loyal he would be working with Robb instead. Jon felt if Robb was more loyal he wouldn't have let his father demote him.

"JEYNE!" Damon roared from the kitchen, "DON'T YOU ANSWER THAT FUCKING DOOR! ITS NOT ANYONE YOU WANT TO SEE." She had just grasped the knob of the door when she heard the yell. Sighing, Jeyne looked out the peephole and saw Robb Stark. As she started to walk back towards the kitchen, Reek came towards the door. "No, don't get that! It's Robb. Come into the kitchen and let Ramsay get it himself." Jeyne held out her hand and waited for him to take it. Theon knew better than to go anywhere near Robb and eagerly latched onto Jeyne, hurrying towards the kitchen. Damon came out of the kitchen to see the two hurrying towards it. He gave them both a shove and grumbled, "Go get breakfast cleaned up in there." Damon waited until they were both out of sight before opening the door. "What the fuck are you doing on the doorstep? Can't you text or call Ramsay like normal fucking folks if he is running late?"

"I tried to do both several times now. It is freezing out here and I want to get to work. Where the hell is he?" Snarled Robb and Damon shrugged. "I am not his keeper." Ramsay came downstairs and grinned. "Hey there, Robb. Sorry, running a bit behind. On my way, buddy." He said as he slowly got a jacket and gloves on. The two of them argued the second Ramsay got to the door and it continued until they pulled out of the driveway. Damon shook his head and went back into the kitchen. Reek was waiting at the door holding the trash and Damon went to open the door. "Hurry back, its freaking cold." He muttered and the boy nodded, hobbling fast towards the trash cans. Reek hurried back and he shut the door fast, shivering. It was a major inconvenience for Reek to have a no touching shut doors rule, but Damon wasn't about to argue with the paranoid Ramsay over it.

Jeyne dried her hands on the dishtowel and then came to wrap her arms around Damon. "Damon, Kyra, Violet and Myranda are going together to the block party." He shrugged and grinned down at her. "So what? Why do I care what those sluts do?" She tried to give him puppy dog eyes and asked, "Can I go with them, please?" "No, you can't. I will take you when Ramsay takes Reek." Damon laughed when his girl pouted and he waited to see if she was going to try and change his mind. As soon as Reek left the room to do his chores, Jeyne knelt before Damon and indeed tried to change his mind. To her great annoyance, the first thing Damon said afterwards was, "You can go with me or you can not go at all. I told you already until I am sure the Mountain and his boys aren't going to fuck with us, you aren't allowed out without one of us with you." Angrily, Jeyne got up and crossed her arms, nearly in tears with frustration. "Its been weeks! I am not used to being this cooped up, Damon! I just want a tiny bit of freedom."

Damon grabbed her by the throat and pulled her closer, squeezing just enough to make her eyes widen. "You can go with me or not at all. End of discussion now, right?" "Yes." Jeyne managed and he kissed her forehead before releasing her. "Be good while I am out today and I'll give you a present tonight." He said, smacking her ass playfully but a tad too hard as he went to find Alyn.

Chapter Text

Cersie would never have known Sansa or her sister existed if it weren't for meals. She took no part in family activities unless they were to be public. Since Cersie hasn't managed to get her family in any activities, that took care of any extra time with her daughter in law to be. In fact, even though Cersie knows both girls are capable of speech, she can't recall ever hearing Arya talk at all. The girl is like a mini-Hound, the family's pet name for Sandor. She follows him or Sansa or sometimes is gone for hours in training.

Whenever Cersie thinks of that little brat among Gregor's men she shudders. It wasn't right and Cersie does regret her stupid petty attack on Cat. Now her Joff is constantly complaining that anytime he wishes to see Sansa he has no privacy. It wasn't his Hound he objected to, it was the girl. Finally, too busy with this stupid block party list, Cersie yelled, "Fine! Tell that girl to come see me right now! Then leave me be, Joff!"

Fifteen minutes later the little goth punk brat was glaring up at her. "Yes, Mrs. Baratheon?" Cersie attempted a smile. "Ah, there you are! Arya, dearest, you are so young to be doing this kind of work. Are you sure you aren't wanting at least a small break back home to think things over? I am willing to spare you." The girl raised one eyebrow and firmly responded, "No, I am fine. Even Gregor says for someone so small I have amazing endurance. I do not complain and I am grateful for the opportunity to learn from the best."

Gritting her teeth Cersie tried a different approach. "I am glad you are doing well and of course, I will not disturb your learning. However, there must be a change in your position. I would like you to mainly guard Tommen and Myrcella." Arya bristled with anger and said, "That was not the agreement made. I am here to watch over my sister while I learn from the Cleganes and their men. Your father himself agreed to that." Just then Varys hollered something from the other room and a crash came from from the kitchen.   

"I do not have time for this, young lady! Either watch the younger children or go home." Snapped Cersie before she ran towards a burnt vanilla scented catastrophe. Ten minutes later Sandor intercepted Arya as she was storming across the lawn towards the Lannisters. "What the fuck are you doing? I have been making those two little shits wait for us and they are ready to rip each others head off!"

Arya spun around and yelled, "Its not my problem anymore! At least not according to fucking Cersie! That cunt just told me I can be a nanny for the little kids or to fuck off home!" Sandor sighed and shook his head. "She can't decide shit for you. Are you going to tattle on her to Tywin?" Arya shook her head, "I am going to tell Gregor I need assurance that she can't take my fucking job from me."

Sandor got in her way and nearly shrieked, "ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY? WHY DO YOU WANT TO PROVOKE HIM? are a little pampered rich girl that just has a rich little girl problem and you are going to get yourself killed someday. Why don't you go the hell home and just get on with your life? Or at least use your Stark name to just get Tywin to shut Cersie up. Why fuck with my brother and his boys? What are you trying to do? Who do you fucking have to prove shit to so badly? You know, if Tywin ever stops giving his protection to you, you know what they would do to you?"

Arya grinned up at Sandor and said, "I am not trying to prove anything to anyone. Except one person, I guess. Yeah...just one." Sandor rolled his eyes and started to head back to escort the unhappy couple. "Wait..who is the one person?" He asked, and she yelled over her shoulder. "Me. Just me." Snorting, Sandor yelled, "I hope Gregor doesn't bury you where I sit for sentry duty. I like to jack off there when I am working late." With a shudder, Arya retorted, "I know. I've had sentry duty with you twice now." It was only seconds after Arya entered the large brick house at the back of Tywin's estate before the catcalls started. 

This was not unusual and Arya did as always, ignored them. They will crowd her, on occasion try to trip her up but that is all. When she was brought in the first time, it was between Tywin and Gregor. That told the boys exactly how far they could go and they did push that limit but never have they crossed it. However they enjoyed taunting the girl with how far they would go if ever given a chance. Arya doesn't cry, she never starts fights with them. She will defend herself, Arya does work hard and they all are somewhat impressed at how much she has already picked up. It doesn't bother them to train a girl, she is not the first girl to train or fight with them.

However, they are usually only around long enough for the training to get rough, then they beg the Lannisters for a transfer. By now, Arya should have been on her knees pleading to go elsewhere. They have assumed this is why she is here when she should be on duty. She actually thinks she almost hears disappointment in their voices. "Aww..little girlie has had enough of us? Don't wanna play anymore? Is it because I broke your lil piggie toes during practice?"

Arya rolled her eyes at Polliver and then Raff was in her way. "We can throw you a nice going away party if you want? Pink icing on a cake and fruit punch? Hmm?" Arya muttered, "I am not quitting. I need to speak with Gregor." Fingers played with her hair and Arya stepped back hard on toes. "I am not here for you, Tickler. I am trying to get to Gregor if you would all let me pass." 

Dunsen grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward a bit. "Why do you need to see Gregor badly enough to risk punishment for leaving your shift? You aren't puking or shitting blood, are you? If you aren't sick or quitting then you should get the fuck back to work. Because nothing you have to speak to him about is worth discipline for deliberately disobeying orders."

Arya smirked coldly and said, "Thank you for your concern. I have no shift right now, you see. That is why I need to speak with Gregor. Cersie just took me off my shifts and I would like Gregor to reinstate me or whatever it is he has to do." Laughter ensued and Polliver gasped out, "Oh, please say it just like that! Tell Gregor to do whatever he must to put you where you want to be. That should go really well. I hope he let's us help or at least watch this."

Gregor loomed over them all and asked, "What is so fucking hysterical that we can't get any work done today? AND WHY THE FUCK AM I STARING AT A LITTLE GUTTER RAT WHO SHOULD BE ON HER SHIFT?"

Chapter Text

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?" Gregor leaned over Arya and the boys all were laughing softly, watching carefully. Like a pack,they circled, smelling blood and wanting to have some of it. "I..I was just fired by Cersie. She said for me to watch the little children as a nanny or leave. She gave no reason for it at all." Nodding, Gregor asked slowly, "Do you work for Cersie or do you work for me? Who assigns guards and shifts?" Swallowing hard, Arya replied, "I work for Tywin and train with you." 

Raff groaned out, "Oh, I think I actually feel bad for the little bitch." Gregor shook his head and talked even more slowly as if speaking to a brain damaged child, "No, stupid girl. You got Tywin's permission to work for me. Let me explain very carefully to you how this works. You are being fostered at the Baratheons and working for me. Trained by my men and mentored by Sandor at Tywin's request. So Cersie can squawk all she would like, I choose who does what under my employ. If anyone has an issue with anything you do..they must come to me. If Cersie is bothered by you living in the house, then you won't. I shall reassign you new sleeping quarters. Does that satisfy your question?" Arya nodded.

"Fucking wonderful. So now that we have that clarified for you, do you know what comes next?" Gregor grinned and Arya shook her head. "No..what is next?" The boys all got comfortable to watch the show they knew was coming.

Sandor was escorting Sansa into the house along with Joff when Gregor came bursting in. Cersie had been arguing with Robert about why his house was literally stinking of chocolate, vanilla in the kitchen. The large giant thundered into the room to stand over Cersie. Sansa and Joff rushed forward hoping to see some drama. Sandor had been worried for that stupid little brat all day and he was in the doorway hoping Gregor wasn't here to announce the regretful death of Arya Stark.   

Robert groaned and said, "If you are here to kill my wife, just let me leave the room first, would you?" Cersie glared at Robert then up at Gregor hiding her nervousness. "What do you want, Gregor?" He grinned down at her and his booming voice nearly knocked her over. "I have solved your problem for you, Cersie. Since you were unhappy with Arya's services, I have taken steps to rectify what must have been a terrible offense on Arya's part. She was caned and relieved of four toenails. I have moved her to the barracks where my men reside. She will have a curtain for privacy. Her job will no longer be to guard Sansa. Her only job until she is better trained will be to learn under my men and she will still be under Sandor's mentor-ship. So she will follow him about, but I'll make sure if anything threatens your son or Sansa...that she does not interfere. Just watch. Oh, I made sure to have Dusten give this same message to your father and the Starks."

Gregor stormed out the door as Robert started to yell even louder at his wife. As Gregor shut the door he heard a loud smack and Cersie cry out along with Sansa. He smiled and headed back to the barracks. An hour later Sandor found Arya limping back from the cab she took to Qyburn's clinic. Sandor snorted as he looked her over.

"You are lucky. When Gregor discipline's me, I never get pain medication for it. And you are back for more. Are you crazy?" Arya grinned in spite of her painful slow gait. "Yep. Must be. Can you help me pack my stuff to move to the barracks?" Sandor shook his head. "You really can't stay there. Do you have any idea what will happen once Gregor leaves for the night?" Arya grinned at him and said, "Oh...I won't be sleeping there. Just wait and watch." Sandor looked down on her with a raised brow. Giggling briefly, Arya simply said, "Momster."

Cersie finally had three seconds to herself. Varys has been in and out all morning all in a dither over this foolish block party. Robert had only slapped her so she had no swelling, thanks goodness. Regardless, she was laying on the couch with ice for the third time, just in case. She heard heels clicking towards the living room and softly hissed. Damn it, how many times did she tell that fucking maid not to let anyone in while she was resting?

"You rotten syphilitic cunt. It's bad enough you are forcing me to allow my eldest daughter to marry your little fucked up son! Bad enough you stole my younger daughter and gave her over to a life of constant danger. You fucking dared to complain about Arya after you put her in that position!" Cersie was on her feet now as Cat snarled and came closer.

"Before you continue insulting me, why don't you hear the real facts?" Cersie bit out coldly, her chin held high and eyes glittering with anger. Cat walked quickly over to a very expensive lamp that Cersie had to give over so much money to Varys for, that Robert nearly broke her jaw. With a baring of her teeth, Cat lifted the lamp and threw it at the decorative mirror only a foot from Cersie.  Both smashed and littered the expensive rug that had been imported from Pentos. "Oh, you fucking bitch!" Cersie screeched, hands hooked into claws. Cat snarled out, "Gregor caned her! He pulled out her toenails! Moving her to the barracks, we both know what would happen, don't we?"

Cat launched herself forward as if she were truly a cat, hissing and out for blood. She raked her newly manicured nails into Cersie's lovely cheek and tried to rip it like paper. Cersie screamed and tried to snatch the woman bald. Cat shoved forward hard and Cersie's head nearly bounced off the wall. "You backwards, stone cold, dried up old cooze!" Cersie growled and slapped Cat so hard that her head snapped to the side. Eyes narrowing, Cat spit out, "You fight like a Southern girl, you incestuous slut, this is how we hit in the North." Cersie couldn't move fast enough and Cat's fist crashed into the same cheek that Robert had slapped.

One hour later Gregor received a text from Cersie asking that Arya Stark be given a room next to Sandor's in the house. He read it with no surprise and granted it. Arya wasn't surprised either.

Chapter Text

Ramsay felt he owned the local tavern as much as Rob did. After all, when Tormund needed a loan who else would he turn to but Starks and Boltons when the bank said no? It was nicer than most downtown, but it wasn't quite up to the caliber of the places most of the upper class go. Therefore it was perfect for the children of that upper class, just grungy enough for snooty folks to stay away, for their parents it was too trashy to enter. 

The Wildling was considered neutral territory, drunken fights are over everything but territories. That is for outside. This was a safe haven regardless of who you worked for. The pool tables, the dart boards, the dance floor, it was for anyone as was the bar and arcade. On the right side of the bar was one booth that had its wooden table emblazoned with a wolf's head. On the left side of the bar was another booth with the flayed man on the wood.

It was clear that those two tables remained empty unless a Stark or Bolton are using them. It was an unspoken rule.

The night before the stupid block party and it was clear that everyone in here was running from another eager planner of some sort. Robb was so eager to finally not just be off duty with Ramsay but to be out of his mother's house. Cat was in high gear, trying to force her web around everyone and he and Jon fled as fast as they could. Robb was so thrilled to be out that he didn't even bother to argue when Ramsay showed up at the same time he did with Theon in tow. Instead, he grabbed Jon and nearly ran into the dark bar, bellowing for drinks.

Ramsay grinned and hugged his pet. "Let's go, boys!" Damon lifted Jeyne on his shoulders and crashed into the bar while she giggled. Theon shrunk more into Ramsay as he always did when things got too crazy. Things around Ramsay got crazy a lot of the time but he never did get used to it. His Master likes him this way so he clings and whimpers and Ramsay teased him softly for cowardice as they went to their booth. Skinner and Alyn joined them in the booth. Jeyne went to visit her girlfriends and Damon was already taking bets for a pool game.

Ygritte leaped up from the bar stool and hugged Jon, then they slid into the booth with Robb. "Your uncle must love the extra income with all the new men." Robb commented taking a long swig of his beer. Shaking her head, Ygritte leaned into Jon. "No, they haven't come in once he said. They haven't gone to any bar, anywhere. They stay on the compounds or leave town completely far as we can tell." Shrugging, Robb said, "That's probably for the best. I don't think they'd enjoy our place anyway."


Polliver stood still and watched Arya Stark with raptor eyes. "Someday, she will fuck up, and then I'm gonna fuck her. I'm gonna use her knife to do it first to loosen her up. Little stuck up cunt." Dusten snorted as he watched the brat stiffly walking next to Sandor as if she hasn't just gotten her ass kicked yet again. "She really tries though, I will give her that. I mean we have thrown everything at her and she just keeps coming back for more. There are some serious anger management issues there."

Raff took a large swig out of his bottle and stared dreamily at another figure crossing the driveway. "I'm going to go rape that one, right there." He pointed with a languid arm towards Sansa Stark who was running from her mother. Rolling his eyes, Dusten said, "You are going to rape Sansa Stark? Don't you think that might cause a problem for you? Just a little one?"

Raff wasn't smiling now and that was creepier than most would think. "I haven't raped. I haven't fought. I haven't done a single fucking thing. I threaten, I invade in careful formation as we are told to. I do everything I am told and I freeze my balls off!  We do nothing, I am fucking bored. I train that little brat and wonder why she and I seem to have the SAME FUCKING CURFEW?"

Dusten stood up, stretching. "Alright, time to head to the bar gentlemen. I have had it. Gregor is in that stupid meeting with Tywin for half the night anyway. Then he has a girl ordered from Petyr to finish the night with, God help the poor thing. So let's take a visit to this Wildlings place." Tickler tilted his head. "Yeah, and what did Gregor say the punishment would be for going into a local bar?" Shrugging, Dusten grabbed his coat and boots. "He never said. Just said to avoid the local bars until things are settled down. I'd say things are settled well enough, right?"

When they entered the bar, they weren't impressed with anything but the roaring fire that ran along one wall. Stomping the ice off their boots, they entered and slowly adjusted to the darker lighting as the headed into the main room. 

"Well, would you look at that, gentlemen. The two lords set up their camps and there are all the knights playing games while the ladies dance. Good grief, get a fucking picture of it, its too precious for words." Sneered Dusten to the others as everyone slowly looked up and went still. Damon snapped his fingers and Jeyne left the girls to press herself against his side, her head down on his chest. He idly twirled his pool stick leaning against the wall, watching them walk towards the bar.

From their booths Ramsay and Robb exchanged brief glances. Ramsay pulled his pet closer, "Reek, I got you the potato skins, eat them. It's a treat, sweetie. Go on." Then he turned back to Skinner and their conversation. Robb picked up his drink and began to speak with his friend and coworker Jory. Jon and Ygritte continued their game of darts. Slowly everyone went back to what they had been doing but every eye was watching the newcomers. 

It took less than twenty minutes for the first fist to fly.

Chapter Text

At first things seemed like they would be alright after all.

Though their fathers would never believe them on it, Ramsay and Robb actually tried to keep the peace. Their folks tried as well. The girls were dancing with Raff and Dusten all except for Ygritte, Jeyne and Gilly who has come with Jon's best friend Sam.

Damon played a game of pool with Polliver while Jeyne sat with Ramsay and Reek. Tickler and Ygritte engaged in a game of darts with Jon occasionally joining in. Then the door flung open again and more entered.

Sansa and Joff stood there staring before Joff tried to pull her away.

Sneering, he said, "I've changed my mind about this slumming adventure."

She let go of his arm, shrugging. "Fine, I'll get a ride home later then."

With a smile as loving as a poisonous viper, Joff moved closer to her. "I can't go home alone, dearest, you know that. Let's go somewhere else without causing a scene."

In a sweet voice, Sansa leaned into her fiance and whispered, "I know you are nervous, my love, but my two brothers are here. Mountain's men are here. All those that must protect us, right? How safer can we be? it that they all are workers...and you are too lofty to sit and share a drink with them?"

Joff shoved her away from him and he took her hand, this time crushing hard, grinding the fine bones. Sansa's face flinched slightly then smoothed out.

" I want you to know when mother discovers that we skipped away from Sandor and Arya, I am telling her it was your idea. You are right, we might as well finish out slumming. Let's go get a table near your brother. Don't want to sit on the Bolton side. Wouldn't look right, would it?"

The room went still and all watched as their version of royalty came into their sanctuary. It was offensive and intrusive to them all. This was the one place where all sides could go and not have to serve. Not have to carry out someone else's agenda.

However, no one could tell Joff and Sansa to leave. Not if they wanted to go home without some form of punishment bestowed upon them. This are the golden children, the brats, the privileged children that must be catered to, protected and treated as if they were shitting gold.

Even Robb and Jon had felt the extreme difference in their upbringing. They received hard labor, beatings to harden them further and scarce approval. Robb might be the favored son but it didn't mean his father was any more loving.

Sansa learned how to be polite and pretty and when she did break a rule, father lectured her until she cried. On rare occasion, their mother would strike her or beat her, but usually because mother was drunk again.

So the boys had very little sympathy for her. Though they did agree marrying Joff was pretty horrible. It was actually hard for them to not smile when she was first told. They were not smiling now at all. They waited until the couple sat in the booth before Robb got up and went over to them.

His face was composed, it was casual but his were not at all. Robb's blue eyes clashed into his sister's.

"Sansa, why are you here? There are some more appropriate bars uptown for you to visit. This is the first night the Mountain boys have joined us and you might make tensions rise. Please go."

Joff glared at Robb and said, "Why the fuck would us sitting here having a drink be a problem?  We know most of the men here, don't we? So why can't we have a drink if we choose to? Go away, Robb. I don't need you breathing down our necks. The only one making a scene is you. Sansa doesn't need your fucking opinion, asshole."

Joff waved his hand at Robb as if to shoo him away. Robb grinned fiercely at Joff, leaning closer, crowding the blonde boy into his seat. Sansa refolded her napkin neatly, her lips slightly curved.

"No one here is working right now. And I imagine that everyone here including Sansa, would really love to take a shot at you. You should watch your fucking mouth, Joff. Because in here you don't having any power over us. And if anyone here decides to punch you, none of us will admit to seeing it happen."

Robb went back to his seat to glower at the couple. 

Sansa made a gesture to the waitress and tried very hard not to laugh at Joff.

"Who the fuck does that bitch think she is? Princess needs a drink? Fucking sterling service coming up."

The offended waitress spit in the glasses before drying them and putting them on a tray, filled with wine. She offered them with a humble smile.

Ramsay got up, stretched and walked over to slide next to Robb.

"Hey there, buddy. Uh, what the fuck are the prince and princess doing? Things are going okay for now but..."

Robb moved as far as he could from Ramsay, but his demeanor was disgust, not fear. 

"I tried to ask them to leave, tried to explain but they won't listen. Fucking little prick won't even let her speak to me. He fucking never shuts up."

"We aren't responsible for them tonight. I swear to god, I'm not saving their asses if things go bad.' Ramsay stated flatly.

Rob snorted.

"Yes you will and yes we are. You know that our fathers expect us to keep them safe, regardless of the circumstance."

Ramsay growled and went back to his table. He found a reason to slap Reek's face, to get an outlet for his irritation. He chided his pet for clumsiness, dropping a glass. This was a common occurrence to do Reek's loss of fingers.

This caused Robb to stare over in growing agitation, every part of him wanting to go and beat the shit out of Ramsay. Another drink didn't stop that feeling and he continued to watch as his broken beloved Theon cried and begged Ramsay to forgive him.

Robb was so busy watching Ramsay harass Theon, Ramsay was busy harassing Reek and so neither of them saw the danger brewing.

Chapter Text

Sandor growled as he parked at the Wildlings bar.

"Ah, fuck. Tywin will have my fucking head. Gregor will take off my other ear and if you get hurt I'll have the fucking women down my throat. You are just going to have to stay right here. Those little fucking shits...they had to go slumming here. And look at the damned cars. Its a perfect fucking storm of Boltons, Stark's, Mountain's men and yeah for some fucking fun, let's just throw a Lannister in there. I need to either get them out of there or stay and keep anyone from removing their cute little heads."

Arya stared at the man as if he'd lost his mind.

"What if they stay till closing? I have to sit in your stinky ass truck until then? Fuck you. If I can't go in, I'm calling an car and heading back. I'm not allowed to actively get involved anyway. Just following your ass all day now in between getting the shit kicked out of me in the name of training. My one damned night off and I stupidly ask you for a ride. I'm out of here."

Sandor growled.

"Fine, but stay in the truck until the car gets here. I fucking mean it. Stay inside the truck with it locked until your ride shows. You don't know everyone coming out of this bar anymore."

"Fine, gotcha. Go before Joff gets my sister killed or something."

Waving him off, Arya rolled her eyes.

She DID know everyone, pretty much. The Bolton's wouldn't mess with her and she works with the Mountain's men. Everyone here knew her name, who would touch her? Turning Sandor's music stations around to music she enjoyed, she waited for the ride which was at least sixteen minutes away.

Sandor headed inside the bar and started to search for one red and one blonde bobbing heads.


Cersei knew that it was her fault that the house was bereft of children this evening. There were items everywhere, hired workers everywhere for this stupid block party. The smell in the house was nauseating. It was like being attacked by a Christmas bakery. Overwhelming, choking levels of vanilla, chocolate and nutmeg.

Varys pleaded that when Petyr had sold him the atrocities of machinery, the smells were not mentioned. In fact Petyr had expressed surprise and even gave the money back instantly. However, his eyes were as jolly as fuck and Varys planned to pay the fucker back.

The machines did work however, so Cersie installed them in a tent on the lawn as of this evening. But even allowing all the windows open to freeze them all, the smell was still heavy enough to ruin the taste of dinner.

So Marcella and Tommen had gone to eat and sleep with the damned Stark kids. Joff and Sansa left to go get a drink. Sandor had gone to drive them and watch them. Cersie had no idea where the brat was and she didn't care.

As long as the kid wasn't being mauled or killed, Cersei preferred to ignore her existence. Probably hiding in her room or practicing with those rough men. Her main concern was being alone with Robert. He was annoyed at the smells and chaos, nothing new. But he had been drinking at work, a very bad sign for her.

Robert cannot comprehend why he has been essentially dumped by his so called loyal friends. Left to rot in a dusty office where no one cares to know him. The only times the men even contact him is if its business. Cersie has been listening to Robert complain constantly and she hasn't an ounce of empathy for him. All during dinner he stared wrathfully at her while complaining about the smell, the workers, the dinner. Cersei tried to ignore him and he threw everything off the table.

She tried to make it to the stairs but he caught her long hair and yanked her back. His meaty fists concentrated on her back, breasts and stomach, where no one will see the bruises. Cersei only cried out when the pain was too much to keep inside.

Reminding herself, this was nothing new, it happens, it is the bloody price of a husband picked out of a rebellion. He will beat her, he will pass out or go seek a whore. Cersie will tend her wounds and increase the amount of poison in his drink. And so it goes until he finally dies.

It really would have gone that really might have.

Tonight Robert was extra angry and he decided to rape his hateful wife while beating her upon the staircase. They never heard the car pull up or Arya come inside. Cersie was too busy screaming for him to stop and Robert was too busy swearing and grunting. Arya heard Sandor in her head warning her not to interfere in anything. Not too SEE anything.

And sadly her own household was the same way, so she turned and left again. This time Arya went to get her own ride. She went to the shed on Stark property that housed her motor bike and helmet. With a grin she was off. Arya headed down the same road the bar was on with plans to go past and head towards the quarry.

Robert finally stopped hitting Cersie and his huge stomach stopped trying to drench her in his stinking sweat. He made sounds like a pig as he poured his useless, disgusting seed into her.

"Who have you been fucking since we arrived here, Cersie?"

He groaned out afterwards as he pulled out of her. She forced her aching, fouled body to calmly move to a sitting position.

"No one yet. You?"

Robert nodded gleefully as he drunkenly attempted to put his pants to rights.

"Oh fuck yes. About five girls now. They are fun, expensive, but fun. One of them, my favorite...she is a hottie, has fire red hair...when I fuck her I call her Sansa."

The taunt was no different than any other. A taunt she has heard so many times before, where he compares another younger girl to her, but to name the cunt that is marrying her beloved eldest son? While Cersie is wearing Robert's bruises, his sweat? He names that girl to her? Cersei had no idea she was going to shove Robert until she did.

Cersie had wanted to put carpets on the stairs, but Robert wanted all to be impressed with marble stairs. His head was nearly opened by the time Robert hit bottom and his neck was twisted and black.

Chapter Text

Arya got to the quarry and carefully set her bike next to an old truck held together by duct tape and prayer. One of the headlights was actually three red solo cups stacked behind saran wrap. She grinned and climbed the rocks until reaching the top of the quarry. There were rock stairs built in but she had extra energy to spare. All the training, brutal as it was, it was giving her more energy, more endurance. She saw the flicker of a small campfire up ahead and went to join her school friends.

It was a small group but Arya was never the popular girl that her sister was. Gendry, Lommy and Hot Pie were all the friends she needed. She sat on a log and accepted a beer from Gendry.

"Hey, glad you finally found some fucking time for us. I can't believe your parents pulled you out of school and let you do online courses. Lucky brat."Gendry gave her a playful shove and lit a joint and handed it to her. Arya grinned and took a drag then handed it back.

"Yeah but it's worth it. Look at these guns, boys."

She showed off while the guys rolled their eyes but did seem to envy her new toned look.


Joff had been cornering and feeling up some whore named Kyra when all light seemed to flee the room. He looked up, way up and there was Sandor glaring down at him.

"It's been an hour. You each said you would only have one more drink. We should leave soon. This isn't a good place for you two."

Glaring back, Joff turned and raised his chin up at Sandor. The girl took the chance and fled towards the other side of the bar.

"There, look at that. Now I have to hunt the dumb whore down again. Why don't you fuck off somewhere? Sansa and I are having fun, we are fine. How much safer can we be, you idiot! Everyone in here is someone who must protect us...the building doesn't change that."

Sandor cursed and stormed off to relocate Sansa, hoping to talk some sense into her. He found her sitting in a booth with Jeyne and Ramsay's pet freak. Ramsay was over at the bar, Damon was over playing pool with Tickler but both kept their eyes flickering to keep an eye on their toys. He walked over to the booth and leaned over Sansa with as much intimidation as he could.

"It's time to go, princess. It is getting too late for you to be in this place. I'll take you and the brat boy anywhere else you want to go. Now." Sansa pouted then gave an innocent smile.

"Sure, Sandor. You are right, we should leave. You just let Joff know and he can come escort me out."

"You little clever bitch, I hate you."

He grumbled and out of frustration, he deliberately lunged towards Reek, baring his teeth and snarling.  The reaction was hysterical. The creature gave a cry and scrambled backwards almost over Jeyne to cower away from Sandor. Jeyne hissed at him.

"You asshole. Fuck off, what did he do to you? Try it again, I'll put a fork in your eye. See if I won't, prick, try it."

He stared at the slight girl but he noted her eyes were not timid regardless of what she appeared to be. Sneering, Jeyne answered his unspoken question.

"I'm submissive to Damon, cocksucker. No one else. And if you bother Reek again we'll see if Damon will let me maim you before calling me off."

Sansa leaned back and grinned, delighted.

"Gee, Sandor, I think you might want to get a drink and lay low. This place is dangerous for you."

He rolled his eyes and drawled out,

"If the dangerous things I have to worry about are just you three, then I'm pretty fucking safe. Fine, you and your prince go ahead and enjoy yourselves. I'm going to go sit outside for awhile, that way if you get your asses kicked or your necks slit I can say I never knew about it."

He turned to leave and a fist landed hard into his stomach. He grunted and stared at Ramsay Bolton.

"Really? Did you just break your flaying hand on me?"

Ramsay seethed but his hand did indeed hurt like fucking hell. Sandor grinned then finished his turn to leave the bar. Only to encounter another fist, this one on his chin, it felt like a wet hackey sack hit him.

"Oh, for fucks sake, Robb! Did you really leap for that?"

Sandor had Robb on the ground seconds later. His boot was on Robb's chest and he heard a groan from behind him.

"Fucking Robb..had it turn it into a fucking thing! NOW IT IS A THING!"

Sandor took a deep breath as Ramsay's gun pressed into his back, at the same time everyone went still and those who had guns, had them out. "Okay. I'm going to remove my boot from your little king and head out of the fucking bar now. Yeah? We all good with that?"

Robb stared up at Sandor and nodded. "Yeah, we are fine with that, right Ramsay?"

"Sure are, pal. You are the one I would really rather shoot right now anyway."

Sandor gently took his foot off of Robb and placed it on the ground with all the skill and grace of a ballerina on her tenth drink. "There, all better? Fuckers." He left the bar and went to kick the shit out of the asshole who Joff had paid to let him slip by. Sandor leaned against his truck and went through Joff's stolen phone to find the asshole.

Once the guns were put away, Kyra continued to skirt her way through the bar. She wanted to head out and get some air herself, but then she was yanked into a pair of arms. Polivar leered down at the pretty whore and crooned softly while swaying with her to the music.

"Don't worry, pretty thing. I can protect you from that little blonde boy. You are too pretty to waste on someone like him. Play with me instead." To his surprise, Krya gave a laugh and then dared to look at HIM with diversion.

"You disgusting, raving battle chode. Don't fucking touch me, I am NOT a whore. Only let him fondle me because I know the fucking rules and I know how to sacrifice for the North. Don't have to act nice for you though."

Polivar shook his head as if he may have had something in there preventing him from hearing correctly. Nah. He backhanded her hard enough for her to hit the wall. She shook her own head now, but then spit out the blood and grinned.

"Look up above me on the wall, you prick."

He looked and saw the framed picture of Ronda Rousey handing Kyra a trophy during a charity event. Oh.

"Now drop your weapons and let's do this correctly."

Polivar smiled and handed his weapons to Dusten, who has wandered over along with nearly every female in the place.



Chapter Text

"What the fuck was that?"

Ramsay demanded as he slammed his hand into Robb's chest. A cheer came up nearby from the girls and Robb winced.

"Why don't you go see what the fuck is going on? Maybe if you were paying more fucking attention this shit wouldn't have started!"

Ramsay stared at Robb then laughed, shaking his head.

"'s my fault. You had your eyes only on my pet instead of anything us, say like your daddies land. I had it, Robb...he is my pet, my problem not yours!"

A scream from Krya and a cheer from Mountain's men interrupted whatever he had to say. Robb turned to go stop whatever it was and Ramsay yanked him back.

"No..they have no weapons, things are and I we need to fucking talk. With everything going to shit for the North, you have got to get over your obsession with my pet. It's got to end...can't you find another man...anywhere? If it's blue balls...for the sake of keeping us all the fuck alive, I'll fuck you myself!" 

Robb shoved Ramsay and hollered at him but they couldn't hear anything but the girls all cheering again. Now it was Polivar that was screeching and they could hear all the men in the bar wince with sympathy for the man. Mance pushed his way into the small crowd.

"Now girlie, you now that ain't fair even for you ladies..let him go and give him back his weapons. Who the fuck even taught you that? I am calling it a loss for you, Krya for cheating. Boy, you want some ice or a doctor maybe?"

Dusten started to offer sympathy but his smile was too sadistically cheerful for Polivar to bear. He shoved away, limping outside and he pretended he wasn't in fucking agony. The fucking little cunt...he would need stitches...she nearly ripped it off...I'll kill her. I'll disembowel her...true, he had kneed her in the cunt hard to back her up but what she did...

Sandor was threatening someone on the cell, preparing to get into his truck, when Polivar staggered up to him.

"Give me a ride to the emergency room."

"No. Get one of your buddies to take you back home and see the doctor there. I'm staying here in case the royal fucking couple have trouble."

Polivar leaned over and spit blood and some vomit onto Sandor's boots.

"If I am internally injured and don't get seen in time...if I have a long recovery time, I'll tell Gregor his little brother watched one of his men just bleed there..."

Sandor huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Fine, get in the fucking truck. Why can't you just see the doctor at the house, why do I have to take you all the way to the hospital? You are walking, alive, still sadly not disemboweled."

Poliver turned red and faced the window and rolled it down to stick his head out of.

"None of your fucking business, just drive. It's past the quarry, saw it the other day when we got here."


Raff managed to slide right next to Sansa at the slowly dissipating circle around Kyra. She stared at him as if he were a cockroach that slithered into her space.

"Oh come on, I am more handsome than that little boy you are marrying."

Jeyne curled her hand around Sansa's arm, glaring and Reek stood frozen, his eyes looking towards Ramsay who was still fighting with Robb. Sansa smiled then ever so sweetly. 

"You are better looking and truly braver than he will ever be. And if you can somehow obtain a fortune and a powerful family for me to align with, we are an item. No? Then look elsewhere. Try Myranda, she is desperate to move up in the world and you are certainly her type."

Raff moved closer and smiled, speaking softly.

"Then since you are chaining yourself to that little pansy for life, you should at least have something to give you good memories. At least dance with me?"

Sansa laughed and thought, why just get drunk and sit in misery with fucking pets? No, those drinks have gone to her head and hell, between her legs. Lord knows, she hasn't ever done more than make out with a stable boy that died not one day after her mother caught on to it. I am engaged, I am marrying a man I loathe. This might be my one chance for a little fun, why not? Imagine Joff's indignation, imagine her mother finding out she slept with the hired help? Giving her virginity to a killer, a rapist, an underling like this? Yeah, time to live a little, fuck them all. 

Jeyne gasped and tried to hold onto Sansa when she nodded and headed into Raff's arms.

"Sansa, youre drunk! You aren't thinking! Come on, you want to dance? I'll dance or Reek, or Jon? Are you trying to start a fucking war?"

Jeyne tried to get between them, facing the redheaded drunk girl. Suddenly her hair was grabbed and her head was pulled backwards by Raff.

"Jealous or something? Get the fuck away and mind your own business. Unless you want me, huh? Is that it?"

Damon roared and that broke through even the heated fight between Ramsay and Robb. It also brought the attention to what was going on.


Joff began to head over at the same time as Damon.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, slut? The fucking help? You were gonna fuck some dirty rat of Gregor's just to give me some revenge disease?"

Raff shoved both Sansa and Jeyne hard into the booth next to him. Then he turned to face Damon and Joff, but at the moment his eyes were on the little blonde brat.

"What the fuck did you say, little prince?"

Robb and Ramsay shared a groan as they went forward but it was already too late. Steam needed to be released and the best Robb could do was shout, "No weapons! Mance will shoot anyone using a weapon!"

Chapter Text

Everything on the street had been cheery if cold. All the set ups, all the decorations for the next day's festival were tastefully set about the estates of Starks, Lannisters and Baratheons. Only the Bolton Estate still did not look festival like, if anything adding candles, flowers and large pink wreaths everywhere made it look like a funeral home. In the dark it was all lit by antique yellow lamps and it all looked quite stately. Now with the flashing red lights, it all looked like the scene of a slasher film.

Tommen and Bran were in the dark, huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. Their eyes were round with shock and horror, panting, hearts pounding. The red lights were pulsing in from half shut curtains and the only other light was the screen in front of them. Behind them the door gently swung open and a figure stepped into the room. Lights flickering off the pale stern face, red lights, creating a garish vision of a vengeful ghost. A small creak and both boys swung around and screamed at the top of their lungs, nearly filling their underwear.


Bran was holding his chest and laying on the rug as Tommen scrambled up to turn on the lights. Cat glared at her son and snapped at them.

"Turn that bloody filthy thing off right now. You wouldn't have been scared if you weren't watching that. And that language just cost you all your gaming systems for one week. Tommen, I am very sorry, but I need to tell you something. Your father has had an accident, he fell down the stairs and broke his neck. We are very sorry for your loss and understand if you wish to go back home to your mother tonight. I believe that your grandfather is with her now."

"I'd rather stay here. Mother will be all dramatic over it. As if we weren't aware she has been trying to kill him for years now. He wasn't worth crying over alive, I won't do it now that he is dead. Rather avoid the drama while I can."

Cat had no idea how to respond, so she just left the room. It had to be shock, he will feel it later then she will take him to his mother. Surely, that can't be how he really feels about his own father? True, Robert was a detestable abusive prick but at least one of his family must have enjoyed a bond with the man? She decided not to make the same mistake twice and knocked on the door before entering Rickon's room.

"For the love of...I would almost rather find the two of you making out then whatever this is!"

Cat knew that wasn't the best way to start this discussion,but it really was just too much this time. All day she had put up with Harry Potter characters, The Hobbit, Dr. Who and Star Wars. When they spoke in tongues, she ignored it, when they cast spells around her, she pretended they didn't exist. When they spent forty minutes trying to use the Force to get her to give them fifty dollars, Cat smiled and stoically carried on. Already irritated by the Bran's attitude and Tommen's lack of emotion, Cat wasn't prepared to see a zombie Marcella trying to eat her son who was dressed as a sheriff.

"I don't care where the dead are walking to, shut up! Please! Now. Marcella, dear...."

A moment later Cat was downstairs slugging down a bottle of wine as Ned got on his jacket.

"What the hell are you doing? Robert is dead next door and most of our children aren't answering calls, no one knows where anyone is. And you choose this time to get drunk? You should be with those children or with Cersei, or have appearances suddenly stopped mattering to you? Do you know both our daughters are missing? So are Robb and Jon. Does any of this matter to you?"

Cat took another swig then laughed dryly.

"It matters. I can't tell you how much it matters. I told those two little shits about their father's death. They didn't care, except to say that they want to avoid going home. To avoid the drama there. How can they have hated each other that much? Would they feel like this if it were Cersei that died?"

Ned sorted and took the bottle away from her.

"And you think if it were you or I, our children would really be that broken up? Ha. We have ripped Robb's heart out, we sold Sansa to someone she despises, Arya is living with killers rather than be near us. I have allowed you to nearly destroy Jon. Bran lives in a world of games to escape us and Rickon prefers living in fantasy to being anywhere near our reality. Our kids would pretend to cry, the same as these ones will at their father's services. Now clean yourself up and call those pansies, Petyr and Varys. You know the social it. Cersei won't know the customs and Tywin will want whatever is the best. Get to it."

Ned gave a small shove and Cat hissed at him like her namesake as she caught her balance.

"And where the fuck are you going at this hour? Going to hunt down our children? I can save you the trouble. They are all at the Wildling. I overheard Arya and Sandor talking earlier this evening. They were going to follow them and force Sansa and Joff back home. I guess they weren't successful. Let them all have their party tonight...what are they needed for? They don't care about a man's death. We don't need extra patrols. Robert either tripped and died or Cersei killed him as her children think. Either way, it wasn't really a murder we need to investigate. We are in no danger from this except socially. And if anything, it just makes the woman look tragically attractive to the media. Power didn't really belong to Robert. It belongs to Tywin."

Ned leaned against the wall and stared at his wife with hard eyes.

"You overheard Arya and Sandor talking? You mean, you were stalking her again...right? Something that even fucking Gregor has made a mild complaint to me of. And I asked you to knock if off, didn't I? Why are you doing this? You don't even like the girl, never have! Why are you suddenly obsessed with her now? Because she was the first child to actually defy you and leave? She was the first one to make sure you didn't get the last word in, that last punishment in. It's all over you face, you vindictive bitch. I have enough stalking issues to deal with concerning Robb, I don't need you to add yourself to the fucking list! Leave Arya alone, she isn't yours to worry about anymore."

"Go fuck yourself, Ned. I'll make the phone calls and why don't you take your jacket off. At your age, every young person in that bar will just laugh at the pitiful sight of you trying to force your children out of it."

Ned grabbed her as she went by, his hand was raised and she flinched but it didn't come down. "Wait...both kids think their father was killed by Cersei? Did they say how? Did it seem like just a comment or the truth?"

It took Cat a moment to recover but a quick shake of Ned's fist in her hair helped her focus.

"Yes, it was both of them. And they each were sure of it. Tommen just said he expected his mother to kill Robert, that they all knew she was trying to for years. Marcella said almost the exact same thing."

For a second neither of them moved. Their eyes clashed together and then they both gave cold small smiles as Ned released his wife's hair and put down his other hand. Ned began to fix his wife's hair, trying to recreate the bun, after years of being the one to yank them out, he is an expert at putting it back together fast. Cat fixed her clothing and Ned's, already having forgiven the event, ready for the next one. Ned put the bottle of wine away and gently caressed Cat's cheek.

"Why don't you go make some hot chocolate? I think that it is our duty to comfort and talk with the children. They have just lost their father and are vulnerable...they need our attention. I shall bring them into my study, come along with the chocolate when it's ready. Oh and I think you know the special recipe we should use for the drink, right? Those social calls can wait until after we have helped the children."

Cat nodded then helped Ned take off his jacket before she went to make some comforting drinks. She made a quick stop to her favorite little cabinet in her bathroom and took out two very tiny pills. Her hot chocolate was homemade with real high quality cocoa, vanilla, a drop of peppermint so that the brief bitterness of the pills is hidden well. Ned managed to hook both squirming Baratheons and half drag them into his study. They protested the need for comfort and discussion the whole way to no avail. It was annoyance that turned to disquiet when Cat locked the door behind her as she entered.

Cersei had been dramatic but not overly so. Not yet. She was still in true shock and hiding an exhilarated crazed laugh that longed to burst out of her slender throat. Tywin and Gregor were not in the least moved by her tears and silent stares into nothing. The only ones that noticed were the ones that mattered, the ones she wanted to see her that way. Bravely, holding a black bathrobe over her nightgown, wearing diamond crusted slippers, her long blonde hair in a thick braid over one shoulder, her tears fell down her pale beautiful features. Paramedics, detectives, EMT's all took note of it and it was spread later. The lovely rich grief stricken widow. Of course, Roose was there speaking with the detectives along with her father. Gregor stayed close to Cersei and loomed over those wishing to speak to her.

After the body was gone, the medical and police were all gone, Roose assured them it was considered an accident and over with. Tywin looked at Gregor and then at Roose.

"Ned couldn't reach his sons or daughters earlier. Have all of the children taken the night off? As well as the workers? Ramsay's boys and Gregor's boys, along with the Stark children and my grandson? I do not believe this death shifts anything and we are all aware it was not an murder. However, I am concerned that if it was an emergency, that none of our youth can be reached within a timely fashion. I want the two of you to locate them all. Anyone who was not supposed to be off tonight, I expect disciplined. Everyone who didn't answer a call from one of you shall be dealt with as well. I leave it to the two of you to deal with immediately."

Both left and Roose couldn't have been more insulted to be put in a equal position to Gregor. As for Gregor, he was a simmering pot ready to boil over. He has never had this much trouble with his boys before they came North. It only took him moments to figure out they went to the one bar he told them to avoid. To not go fucking around in until they were better accepted. And he is going to murder his brother for letting Joff and Sansa go into that powder keg. And Gregor is pretty sure that little brat will be with Sandor, which means he can add bringing a minor into a bar on top of the list he is going to hurt his brother for. Roose and Gregor took the same car, Locke driving them to the Wildling bar to collect the wayward children.


Chapter Text

The only sounds were the clicking of clocks after Roose and Gregor left. One word, one cold command was the next thing to strike in the air.


Cersei shuddered and seemed to shrink. The middle aged southern mean queen seemed to melt into a young scared girl. Without a word, Cersei turned and went upstairs towards her room. It always felt the same, since the first time until this latest one. It never got easier or less painful, less traumatic. That one word has been haunting Cersei's sanity since she can remember.

If there was ever a reason that Cersei had to tell the truth of such things, if ever she were asked, did your father molest you? The answer would firmly be no. She never saw it that way. It was only ever done when Cersei angered her father. He didn't get drunk and do it, buy her presents then do it. Tywin never tried to make a bond with her or do it for any type of desire really. At least not to her eyes. Tywin only commanded her to her room and did this as a punishment.

Not for small things, those would be dealt with in public or private depending on where Tywin felt like it. He once gave Cersei a brutal bare ass spanking with his belt at her own birthday party. It was her tenth birthday party and Cersei was a little bored with the usual things. A petting zoo and a live circus were boring and old hat. So she and some friends played some tricks of their own. Two classmates were nearly mauled when Cersie forced them into the lion cage. The only thing that saved their lives was that the poor creature was not only ancient but declawed and had all his teeth removed years ago.

No, the room command was only used for things Tywin considered extreme defiance. Cersei was mentally trying to tally them up as she climbed the stairs, tears streaming. The first time she remembers it happening it was for wetting her pants. Her father had dragged them to a function and no one would let her leave for the bathroom.

At four she didn't have much control yet and Cersei had been drinking juice all morning long. Her nanny was too busy flirting with some serving man to notice her charge squirming. When it happened, Tywin simply looked at the nanny who took Cersei away at a near run. That night Cersei was forced to watch as Tywin had Gregor beat the nanny to death. Then as she stared at the dead broken girl, Tywin said it for the first time.


She didn't speak, she just went upstairs as she does every time. When Tywin first discovered Cersei experimenting with Jaime. Every time he caught her with Jaime, in fact. Each time she gave birth to another golden haired child. When she couldn't control Robert or herself and they lost their children to Tywin. That was the first thing that happened when Tywin had allowed the couple back in their home.

It was in fact the only time Robert ever felt anything like tenderness for his wife. He would hold her afterwards, feed her and bathe her for however long it took her to recover. Usually Cersei was fine in a day or two but she greedily enjoyed having Robert's small devotions. When she was young, it was Tyrion that was there during her recoveries.

This time when it was over, Cersei would have no one. Even if the children had come home, who could she turn to? Cersei tried not to make any sounds as she went into her bedroom and removed her clothing. She stood in the center of the room, arms at her sides, legs braced open, waiting, staring at the door. This was only the start, but even the beginning of something Tywin has to build dread.

She has to stand and wait, listening for Tywin's steps, waiting for him to come in like a nightmare. If she hid, tried to fight or barricade the door, as she tried a few times in her teen years, it only makes it twice as bad. Tywin simply has the door removed, or has Gregor track her down or force her to comply. He always makes her submit in the end.  So she stands and waits.

If only she had turned even slightly around, things might have gone differently.

Or if instead of drugging and interrogating two teens in a locked room, the Stark parents had been watching their own children.

But no one turned around, no one unlocked a door. So no one noticed Rickon or Bran go downstairs. No one saw Rickon eat a bucket of ice cream or saw Bran leave the house. He had only his phone on him, wanting to see if he could catch a glimpse of either Robert's dead body or Cersei's naked one.

The house was mostly dark, dashing Bran's hopes that Robert's body was around anymore. He walked around the house and saw that Cersei's light was on. Bran hesitated, he could go home and watch like usual through his telescope. But his parents were being creepy again, creepier than usual. He wasn't stupid, nothing good was happening to his new friends, soon to be in laws. He didn't want to be there wondering if they were being hurt.

Climbing trees, trying to balance on Cersei's little alcove before her window, was a good distraction. A better one happened when he saw Tywin enter his naked daughter's room. Bran wasn't barely aware when he started jacking off. It was before the leather studded paddle but after Cersei had nearly drowned in a face-full of her father's seed. The undoing was the tiny sound Bran made when he came and splattered against his hand and the window-casing.

Tywin had just delivered his last blood speckled blow to his bad girl's ass and was about to get a cane for her thighs. That is when he saw the little nasty pervert in the window. It is not often that Tywin gives in to baser urges, much less to an impulsive act. However, disciplining his daughter has stirred his blood up, always does. So he was at the window, whipping it open and shoving the boy before a thought formulated. Before Cersei even cried out in horror, clutching a robe and running to see if the boy was dead.

Chapter Text

"Where the FUCK have you taken me to?"

Tyrion stared blearily out the Uber car window.

"What the fuck is a Wildling?"

The bored Uber driver sighed loudly.

"Sir, no offense but this is the fifth bar you have had me drive you to and say no to. You were my last pick up tonight, have some mercy, I'm tired. I have been pulling extra shifts at the hospital, I only do this for a little extra cash. Please, just pick a location, have mercy."

"I am not so drunk that I cannot recall most of the evening. The first two places you chose are places frequented by those who would know my father or sister by now. The other three were places that I would get tossed into a dumpster by some ruffians wanting to try their hand at a new sport, like dwarf tossing. What the fuck is your name again? Peter, Paul, I know that isn't right..."

"Podrick! Podrick! For the tenth time, Sir! Podrick!"

"Right. Podrick. Now I have heard you bitch and complain for hours about how much you despise your job. And this extra job. You are either a miserable person or you are in the wrong job. Shut the damned car off and come inside with me. We shall drink and discuss your problems. And that way if this place is too rough, at least I know who will be in the hospital next to me!"

Podrick turned around to finally just tell the obnoxious if not mostly amusing man to fuck off when Tyrion stuck five hundred dollars into his face. He took the money, shut the car off and got out, swearing to himself the whole time. No way was he going to be on time in the morning. Dr. Pycelle is going to fire him this time for sure. It was too late now and he followed Tyrion towards the bar. They had almost made it beyond the door before a body went flying past them.


Podrick turned and started to head back to the car but Tyrion yelled after him.

"Oh, you pussy! Where is your sense of adventure gone? And you either come inside with me or give me my five hundred back!"

"Why can't we get a drink another place then? I made a mistake coming here, I had no idea it was like this. Let's go somewhere else and drink, alright?"

Tyrion went to answer but he had caught sight of something distressing or rather he heard something distressing inside the bar.

"I'd really like to..but now this isn't an option. My fucking nephew's nasally voice is piercing through me. As much as I hate the sick fuck, my sister would castrate me if I let her little Boo Boo get hurt if I could have stopped it. So now for that money, you can help me drag him out of here, or at least help me make my way to him in there."

Podrick stared at Tyrion in horror.

"I am an orderly, not a fucking bouncer, or wrestler or killer or your average bar fighter!"

"Then give me back my five hundred dollars. Yeah, that is what I thought. Just help me through the worst of it. Get me to that weaselly blond boy that you hear screaming like a little girl in the corner! Yes, over there. Oh look at that. He was dumb enough to even bring his little bride to be with him, so she can watch him die. And then probably get hurt herself. Stupid."

"All you had to do was shut your fucking mouth and we would be in this situation now, would we? Holy shit, I think he just pissed his pants, yeah, he pissed himself!"

Raff alone was really laughing at the gasping boy with the wet crotch that he was holding up against the wall with one fist. His fist was wrapped tightly around the boy's throat. Joff couldn't resist when Raff headed for him, he kept insulting him, even after Raff threatened to remove his tongue for him. No one seemed more surprised then off himself when Raff started to strangle him.

Damon had been going to break Raff into little pieces but as he had reached for him, a pool stick got him in the back, breaking in half. So he had turned and proceeded to see if he could put that cue up the Tickler's ass. Alyn and Dusten seemed to grin at each other and sent the darts into each other as opposed to the dart board. When they ran out of darts they switched to fists.

Ramsay and Robb both grabbed onto Reek as he fled by and that sent Ramsay into a rage. He shoved his pet towards a table with orders to stay under it then he threw himself at Robb. It was the Tickler that went flying over Tyrion's head out the door. Damon had been about to stomp right over Tyrion, not even seeing that he was about to commit murder. Podrick reacted without much thought by grabbing the nearest pitcher and throwing it at Damon's head. Just as Tyrion went to throw himself sideways, the pitcher crashed against the giant man's shoulder. He turned growling and Podrick pointed to Tyrion.

"You almost crushed him!"

This wasn't sufficient for Damon and he began to chase after Podrick who muttered an "oh fuck" and flew into the crowd. Damon crashed after him and Tyrion managed to fly through the brief empty space left behind the big man. He climbed onto the booth seat where Sansa and Jeyne were shoved when Raff attacked Joff. Glaring at Sansa disapprovingly, he stood on the seat and looked at Raff who was close enough to touch.

"You are one of the Mountain's boys, aren't you? Who is employed by the grandfather of the boy you are choking to death? And how do you think you will be repaid for that? Gregor doesn't strike me as the forgive and forget type. Then again, if you were the one that kept Joff safe by making him simply leave...that you would probably be rewarded for. Ask yourself, is this irritating little shit worth the wrath that would fall upon you? Instead, I could call up Petyr and get you a girl that will let you take out all that aggression another way."

Raff slowly turned his head to stare flatly at Tyrion.

"What fun is that then?"

He let the piss stained boy fall to the ground anyway, then kicked him in the balls hard for good measure. With a sweet smile for Tyrion and the curled up little pansy, Raff reached into the booth and tried to drag Sansa out of it. That is when that fucking slash got in his way again, infuriating him beyond belief. Raff had only meant to scare and humiliate Sansa a little before walking away but that other bitch had to attack him.  The fork went right into his arm and fuck it hurt. He backhanded her and she fell hard into Sansa who was knocked out cold by it. It didn't help that at the last second Raff saw Gregor enter out of the corner of his eye.

Luckily, he wasn't the first one that Gregor was going to be seeing to. As Roose shot once into the air and everyone stopped, one body remained on the floor. Alyn lay still, a dart buried within his eye and Dusten standing over him.

Chapter Text

Polivar was having a very bad night. The hospital wait wasn't long only because they were afraid of him and Sandor. A shaking doctor stitched him up without asking a single question. Sandor had plenty though and Polivar was ready to murder the fucking upstart when the meds really kicked in. Now his night was wonderful, he was staring out the window as Sandor drove them away from the shitty hospital.

"Hey, where is the little shadow of yours? She was with you earlier, wasn't she? When we left the estate she was with you."

"Don't fucking know. Don't fucking care. Driving back to check on the royal idiots then dumping your ass at home so I can get some fucking sleep."

"You don't know where Arya is? Gregor only allows her off the property with you until further notice, remember? Seems like we should make sure she hasn't broken the rules. She won't learn if we spoil her. We both know she has her phone, what does the GPS tracker say? Where is she?"

"Fuck you. We are getting the brats at the Wildling and going home."

"I'll just text Gregor then and mention that we aren't sure where Arya has gone."

"Fine, you cockingsucking cuntbucket!  GPS says she is at the quarry."

Arya had just finished a third beer and her second joint when she started having visions. Yep, real shitty ones too. Because it looked an awful lot like Sandor and Polivar were heading for her and her friends. Had to be a vision, she prayed it was a vision.

"Holy fuck! Look at the size of that man? That other one looks even meaner somehow. Shit..we need to bug out of here." Hotpie breathed faster as he started to stand up. Lommy was feeling no pain and he pushed his fat buddy back down. "Just some fucking bullies, who gives a shit? I have a gun on me. Besides, I think Arya knows them."

Arya whirled to glare at Lommy then stuck her hand out. "Give it to me now! You can't pull a weapon on these men, they will fucking kill you. That is The Mountain's brother and one of his best men. Just stay silent until they leave. They are probably trying to find me to harass me. I didn't have permission to come here. Just stay sitting and keep your mouths shut."

Gendry snorted as if he would stand up to these men if need be, but his eyes were nervous and full of stoned paranoia. Arya stood up and headed towards the two just mere feet from her friends. Polivar grinned at her, Sandor scowled and Arya tried for a blank face that reached valiantly for sobriety. With a clicking sound of fake sympathetic disapproval, Polivar began to circle the girl.

"Oh dear, oh no...our wayward little recruit has broken so many rules all at once. Let's see...drinking, drugs, going off limit areas, fraternizing with strange boys.." His words were cut of by her laughter which was echoed by the fucked group behind her. "What the fuck are you talking about, Polivar? I mean yeah, I broke the first three..but is this the nineteen fifties or something? I can party with boys, I work and train with boys, right?"

"These are boys that we don't know, that were not approved of."

Arya stared in shock and disbelief at him then over at Sandor. He glared at her and crossed his arms, clearly he is no mood to defend her in anyway. "Fine. Got it. Let's go, take me home and tell me the whole way about what kind of hell to expect for it." She started to walk past them and maybe they might have followed her. Later on, she really wanted to believe that. Then she heard Lommy's fucking mouth, it was just audible.

"Well, there goes Arya for good. Assholes like that never let one of their own around normal folks. They like to pretend they are better just cause they have a shit load of fucking weapons."

Poliver walked over to the three boys and smiled cheerfully. He leaned down and took one of the beers and opened it. After a long swallow he gestured to the three boys. "Hey, I like to party! Just as much as anyone else, but see..the way I party and the way you party are probably not the same. But I'll tell you what, let's find out! Sound good? Great! Sandor, Arya come sit down, let's party with our newfound pals."

Sandor grumbled but he dragged Arya forward, snarling at her the whole way. "Keep your fucking mouth shut no matter what. You caused this, girlie, now you are stuck with the fucking lesson." Arya wanted to at least try to get the gun from Lommy one last time but there was no way to. Sandor shoved her hard onto an empty piece of log then stood directly behind her. He put a beer in her hand and took one for himself. Poliver sat on the log across from the boys, leaned forward and stared intently at the three nervous high school kids.

"So..that fucking mutant over there is Sandor and I am Polivar. What are your names? Come on, you there, the one with the mouth, what's your name?" Lommy looked up full of drunk bravado and sneered, "Lommy?" Poliver grimaced and Sandor snorted, grumbling, "What the fuck is a Lommy?" With a snarl, Lommy replied, "My name." Poliver opened his eyes very wide and slowly shook his head, asking, "Last name? Maybe there is a redemption here." Staring stonily at him, Lommy was already thinking of his gun and it was in his eyes unknowingly. "Just Lommy."

Polivar drank then gestured to Gendry. "Tell me your name, maybe it will be better than a fucking Lommy. Oh, and boy if you put a finger on that gun, you'll regret it. Now, what is your name?" Lommy flushed and put one hand on his beer and the other on his knee. "My name is Gendry Bull." Polivar had been swigging from his bottle, now he was spraying them all with beer as he laughed. "Really? Lommy? And a fucking Bull? Too fucking much, too much." Gendry glared but said nothing and Lommy was staring at Polivar in a way that worried Arya. The bully's eyes went to the third heavy set boy cringing on the log.

"You...look at you! How the fuck did they even get you up here? Fucking roll your ass? Sandor, if we cooked him we'd have enough food to last months! Now he's all red, not just pink...he looks like a piggy, don't he? Alright boy, stop trying to pretend your not crying and just tell me your name." It took two tries before the humiliated scared kid could speak. "Hotpie. No last name." Polivar grinned then wrinkled his nose. "Nah...Hotpie is fucked up and funny...but it doesn't fit you, does it? Piggy. That is perfect, so Piggy you are! Stand up and let me see if you are really as fat as I think you are."

With a sob, Hotpie stood up, shaking. Polivar's eyes were shining like a young boy at Christmas morning as he commanded the boy to twirl around. Terrified and crushed under shame, Hotpie staggered in a circle, crying, silently. Arya got a hand upside her head when she moved to speak, to protest. "Good piggy! Now, I want to see if I can count how many rolls of fat you have...wanna know how many hot dogs I can make out of you. Maybe some bacon too. Lift your shirt up and let the fat fly!" With a whine, his eyes nearly rolling, Hot Pie lifted his shirt with shaking hands. At the sight of the large stomach, Polivar laughed in disgust. "Oh look at that shit! Okay, Piggy, shimmy, lemme see that fat fly!" 

Gendry snarled and started to stand up but Polivar never even looked at him. Polivar was looking only at Lommy, who was holding his rusty gun and pointing it at Polivar. "That is fucking enough! Get out, take Arya if you want to and fucking leave! No more of this shit, you hear me?" Polivar looked like he was frozen. It was creepy and Arya couldn't even detect the man breathing. When he moved again, no one really seemed to clearly see it. One moment the man was stone, the next Lommy's hand was missing the gun and three fingers. The next shot took him in his shoulder and knocked him behind the log. He screamed in the shadows and Polivar chuckled. "Now its a party. Our kind of party."

Chapter Text

Arya screamed, standing up. "What the fuck are you doing? Don't kill him! Fuck!" Gendry was on his feet along with Hot Pie. As soon as his feet turned to run Sandor was there and his fist sent Gendry over the log, coughing blood and a tooth or two onto the dirt. "Oh come on...I didn't aim for anything vital, everyone calm the fuck down. Wow, are you all party poopers? Huh? Sit your asses down, Bull, why don't you help the Lommy into it's chair? That is better, nice and fucking cozy, aren't we?" Polivar beamed at them all as soon as they were all sitting.

"Now, Lommy, you are going to toss me the rest of your weed. Oh, stop whining and Gendry will wrap your hand for you. Because you are fucking splattering blood all over everything, you know. Kind of gross, buddy boy. Gendry, use your shirt to bind his hand." Polivar started to roll himself a joint then he looked over at Hotpie. He burst out laughing, leaning forward, squinting and sniffing to confirm his suspicions. "Did you piss yourself, boy? Did a widdle piggie see a scawy thing and go to pee pee town?" Polivar laughed and Hotpie tried to cover his wet crotch with his hands.

"You pathetic dirty piggy. Well? Don't just sit in your cooling piss, boy! Stand the fuck up. Now take off your pants and underwear. Looks like you are going to have to Porky Pig it through this party. Hurry up." Sandor rolled his eyes and drank more. Arya growled low in her throat and kept her eyes only on Polivar. "Stop...stop fucking doing this to him." Gendry nearly moaned out, putting his head in his hands. " really, I am too..stoned..and drunk for this shit. Just, can we not?" Polivar pointed his gun at Gendry's head. "Shut the fuck up. Don't be so jealous, pookie, I promise you'll be next for my fuckery! Just try to hold on a little longer, honey? Yeah? Good."

"Holy fuck, those underwear can't be real! Looks like you could fucking sail with it..." Polivar watched as Hotpie put his pants and underwear on the dirt folded neatly next to him. "You are amazing, prime Piggy meat. Tell you what, here is the party game! You are going to be our entertainment, Piggy! Oh, lemme see, is there really a little prick under all that fat, Piggy? Oh gods, there is...Sandor, it's like a tiny mushroom that just can't grow under it's conditions. Very sad if it weren't so fucking funny. Okay, the game, yes! So here it is." Polivar took a hit and held it while staring at Hotpie. When he finally released the smoke and spoke, Hotpie jumped.

"The game is to do everything I say to or I am going to slice you, put you on that fire and eat you. And if you try to run at any point, I'm going to put a sharp stick up your ass, fuck you with it till you die. Then have pork on a stick for dinner. Understand, Piggy?" Hotpie sobbed but nodded. "Great! Now first, I don't want to watch little fucking droplets of pee falling from your tiny prick. So go over to the edge of the quarry and I want you to shake it off. Go. Now." Polivar grinned as Hotpie staggered over to the edge of the rocks, trying to cover himself, trying to compose himself somehow. He stared into the darkness at the edge that wanted to suck him in. He was thinking about letting it as he used his hand to shake his limp dick into the quarry. Of course there wasn't anything to really shake off anymore.  

"Aww, come entertaining! Really give a good shake, get your hips into it, Piggy! I wanna see that fat ass of yours shimmy! Shake, Piggy!" Harshly, Hotpie bit into his bottom lip until blood poured down his chin. He ached as every piece of him worked into shaking to amuse the sadistic fuck behind him. I could jump...this is only going to get worse..even if I get out of will always be this way for me. Then that terrible voice, that terrible man was right behind him. "You aren't thinking of jumping, are you? Sick of being picked on for being so disgusting, I understand. But I know something about you that I bet you don't yet. Let me help you understand it." A boot kicked hard into Hotpie's large left buttock. For one horrible instant, Hotpie was over the ledge, he was staring at death down below and he screamed, urine squirted out of him.

The only thing that kept him from plummeting to his death was the grip Poliver had in Hotpie's hair. "Listen to the squealing of the Piggy! it is. Death. Do you still want to jump, Piggy?" "NO NO NO PLEASE NO!" Hotpie screamed in terror and Polivar used the boy's hair to yank him back to the dirt. Hotpie lay there shivering and panting, tears and sweat streaming, mixing with snot and drool. Polivar stared at him with amused disgust. "Wipe the fucking boogers off your face, Piggy, you are so fucking gross. Now we all know what else you are, Piggy. You are a coward. You can't even kill yourself to make things better, can you? can't. That is okay, though. I firmly believe, once you know who and what you are, things get easier. I like you, I am going to help you. Now, what is your new name?"

"P..p...piggy." Hotpie muttered, curled on the ground. Cocking a hand to his ear, Polivar leaned towards the boy. "I couldn't hear you. Say it again?" Sitting up, face pale, eyes hollow, Hotpie spoke a bit louder and clearer, keeping his gaze on the dirt. "Piggy." Poliver clapped and cheerfully hooted. Then he leaned down and gave a warm, preschool teacher attitude, batting his eyelashes at the boy. "And..what did we learn that you are? Did our good Piggy listen to his lesson? What are you?"  Hotpie sobbed and heaved then with a hoarse grunt, he answered. "Coward." "Good boy! Yes, we learned our Piggy is a coward. So accept it, you are a coward and you are most defiantly a Piggy!"

"I want you to get on your hand and knees. I want you to crawl around like a real wild little piggy would. Snuffle for truffles, rub your fat skin into the dirt and crawl around oinking. You are going to do that until I tell you to stop. If you get out of my line of vision, I will assume you are trying to run. You know what happens then, don't you? You become my nice pork dinner, right? Come on, be a good piggy for me!" Hotpie struggled to crawl and he snuffled into the dirt, mixing with his tears and snot to make a unique grime upon his face. Satisfied, Polivar sat back down and continued to smoke the joint. "I don't hear any oinking, Piggy!"  The boy let out a few humiliated snorting sounds as he lumbered about on his hands and knees.

Lommy was in pain and he no longer cared about anything but getting to the hospital. Getting his shit fixed up and his mind fucked up to escape the pain and this situation. "Man...I am dying here...just let us call an ambulance for me? Or let me go and walk to get a fucking ride there! Come on, please, I'm gonna bleed out and it fucking hurts so bad!" Gendry tried to get Lommy to stop whining but nothing was working. Polivar smiled. "Give Sandor your cell phones and wallets, Gendry. Now." He watched the boy get the items, even in Hotpie's pissed stained clothing. He handed the jumble to Sandor and Gendry shot a pleading look at Arya. She shot a look back of "What the fuck do you think I can do?" Yet when Gendry sat back down, Arya gave it a shot.

"Look, you had your fun. I get the point, no more friends without permission, can we go? Please?" Arya ducked and Sandor's large hand only caught her hair. Polivar looked at Arya and his amusement seemed to slowly melt off his face. He took out his cell phone and then frowned at it. " service here..." He stood up then swooped down and forced Lommy into his grip. "Let's get you an ambulance. Let's see if we can find reception..." Polivar half carried the wounded boy to the edge of the quarry. Polivar looked at his phone which he was waving in the air. "Hey, found it! Three bars. Yes!" He smacked Lommy in the back so hard the boy teetered on the edge. With a grin, Polivar gave another slap to the boy's back and then he was gone. They heard his screams and then a horrible squelching thud.


Chapter Text

Gregor and Roose scanned every face, every bruise, every shamed eye that refused to meet theirs. Very few dared to meet their eyes, but Tyrion had no problem with it at all. "Glad to see another adult trying to figure out where Joff and Sansa were. When I got here, it was a full out brawl with these two right in the center of it!" Roose nodded slightly and Gregor simply grunted, dismissing the little man. "Where is Polivar?" Gregor asked, glaring at his men. "That cunt Kyra tried to rip his cock off in a fight! He got Sandor to take him to the hospital, I think." Dusten muttered.

Roose looked up sharply, directly at his son and Robb. "And where is Jon? Or Ygritte? And why was Sansa being threatened directly in front of you? Why was Joff being strangled and you can lay Alyn's death at your own doors, you know that, correct? So busy fighting with each other over that creature. You both disgust me and Robb, I can assure you that your father will feel the same about all of this."

Gregor began to take different accounting of what happened. Then he and Roose moved slightly over but Tyrion was determined and squirmed between the two of them. "Excuse me? I am taking my nephew and the girl home since you seem to not care who is standing here." Tyrion was not expecting Gregor to lean down into his face with the face on an aggressive wrestler.

"No one leaves here until we get this shit all sorted out. Go sit with the little royalty." Gregor rumbled and Tyrion was damn near killed by Gregor's breath. "For fuck's sake, Gregor! You have excellent insurance, go see a dentist about your gingivitis! It can lead to bad things you know. Or at the very least maybe dabble in trying mints or mouth wash?"

Roose smoothly got in the way and began to lead Tyrion back towards the couple that are now standing together, shamed and silent. Next to them was a very rattled Podrick, who kept sending nervous glances to Damon who would growl back,s howling his teeth. They looked big and sharp to Podrick.

"Gregor and I are concerned about the death, about our men out of control, those things do not concern you. We are not going to allow anything to happen to Joff or Sansa. However, we do believe they need the example of what happens when order are not obeyed. According to the stories you heard with your own ears, that Sansa and Joff set off that whole rumble. This is to keep them safe as well, Tyrion. Now please sit, thank you." Joff scoffed and Sansa smirked as Tyrion frowned and sat down. He tapped his fingers on the table and then leaned his head over to say casually, "Oh, Joff, your father died tonight. Just wanted to let you know." "WHAT?" But Sansa shushed him harshly, this was no time to be noticed.

Roose and Gregor were watched by every eye, no one moved or spoke. No one could hear hear anything but whispers and growls but they could see the strange act of two predators tallying up a battle for the victor. First Gregor began to back Roose up with his chest then Roose darted so he could begin to circle Gregor slowly both still speaking the whole time. This happened a few times and Tyrion openly yawned then stood up, stretching. He stood up on the table and began to slow clap until both men stopped to stare at him with death in their eyes.

"Truly, truly a lovely dance fight if a bit slow. I give it a seven because it was getting repetitive. There was a death tonight both here and at home, can we finish this up?" Tyrion asked wryly. Robb and Ramsay both stared at Roose. "Who died at home?" It was in unison and both shuddered at it.  So did Podrick who was trying to hide in the booth next to Jeyne. They sat across from Sansa and Joff who were staring up at Tyrion on the table.

"Robert Baratheon fell down his stairway and broke his neck. We were trying to call everyone home but no one answered their phones. From this moment onward, all phones are answered when you recieve a call from anyone at your home base. Is that understood? A night off means you have time off unless you are needed. At all times." Roose stared at every person as he spoke. His voice was soft and yet somehow went around the room. It was somehow like having the creepy man you were always scared of as a kid suddenly speak into your ear. Some in the room were more affected by that than others.

"Now, let us get to responsibility and discipline for this mess here tonight." Roose looked at Gregor with a pleasant smirk and an arched eye brow. "We have a death that must be paid for. Alyn was valuable to us." Gregor snarled and then pointed at Dusten. "Did you kill him?" Dusten nodded into bothering to try and explain the bizarre accident. Roose looked at him disdainfully. "Why? I am sure the orders were given clearly during this not to kill each other? Not to use weapons?"

Dusten nodded and replied. "It was given. I was fighting with Alyn and we got hold of some darts. We were only poking and punching but then that boy there," Dusten pointed to Podrick. "He ran through me and then I had flailed to get my balance, but couldn't. The dart flew out of my hand, it was in his eye. Then Podrick ran the other way from Damon and I fell into Alyn's back. His head hit the floor and it went in...I am sorry he's dead. He had some good jokes.

Gregor looked at Roose with a nasty cheerfulness and declared it was an accident. Roose nodded, then locked eyes with Gregor. " was an accident. That doesn't change the fact that he was holding a dart in his hand, which is a weapon, correct?" Gregor glared back and snarled, "He said that your boy had a dart too. So they both broke the rule, want to see them both whipped for it?"

Roose smirked. "Who here saw Alyn with the dart before Dusten had his? Or did Skinner have no choice to use it in defense of Dusten?" With a look of victory at Gregor, Roose listened to the bartender, every North voice and even Joff chimed in, angry with the Mountains men for his shabby treatment. They all yelled that Dusten had the weapon first. That Skinner had to defend himself.

Gregor's face darkened and he shot all his men a glare that promised retribution for this shameful behavior. "Very well. He is your men's to punish for taking a life they needed. However, I need him able to fight and I am well aware of your forms of torture. You may not remove any vital pieces, limbs, not even a finger or a toe." Ramsay scowled and Roose sighed. "I guess we could have Damon make him dance, but it doesn't seem very effective nor worth a life." He commented lightly.

Dusten stood still as Gregor ripped his shirt off. Fuck, that was a t shirt he spent three years trying to get online. He was more concerned with Gregor's anger than anything else. Whatever the Boltons would come up with, he can handle it, if he can take what Gregor dishes out, this will be child's play.

"Flay one of his nipples off. It will hurt but it won't affect his work or overall health. Seems reasonable to me, think of how much it will hurt while healing?" Dusten felt surreal as he heard Gregor casually offering up his nipples to Northern knife. Was this really fucking happening? How drunk was he? Maybe it's the LSD he took earlier from Myranda kicking in? He might really be playing pool, asleep or having sex and thinking this.

Ramsay grinned and came forward with his skinning blade. "Don't worry, father. I can find the perfect pound of flesh to take for Alyn. I can promise it will not affect his work or overall health provided he watches the wound for infections." Ramsay leaned close to Dusten and let the light glitter on the sharp steel.

"This is called the Gerber Moment. I don't know why they named it that, it makes me think of skinning a baby. You will need to lift your arm very high for me, please. And I want you to know, I plan on making sure this goes slowly and carefully. I want you to really feel this for a good long time after." Dusten stared at Ramsay and slowly raised him arm up. "Go for it, asshole." After one of Gregor's rectal infusion punishments, this will be nothing.

Two minutes later, Dusten was being held tightly by Damon and Skinner as he squirmed, sobbed and screamed under Ramsay's knife. Gregor stared down in disgust at the shameful sight. Ramsay expertly removed the skin of Dusten's armpit. "Good news, don't need to buy as much deodorant now! Only need enough for one arm. Bad new is, you'll still sweat through this exposed skin and muscles and nerves. It will hurt like you won't believe!" Ramsay chuckled and ripped the flap off in one gristly movement. The sound made Joff and Podrick both vomit, causing Sansa and Jeyne to scramble onto the table with Tyrion.

Gregor glared then at Roose. "Done. Payment in full. Now our turn, right? So..?" Roose looked like he was swallowing a lump of shit as he addressed his own people. "Polivar was injured due to Kyra's actions. Also, Kyra's attack caused everyone's nerves to tighten, to spark off a fight. Ramsay, you will get Ben and his dogs, Damon with his whip and Skinner with his own will hunt Kyra, whip, rape, torture and flay her living. The dogs may eat the remains." Myranda and Ros gasped and looked both fearful and resentful. But they dared not speak, not when flaying and hunts are on the table for those that have offended.

Robb shook his head. "No. That is going too far. You can't take her life, she didn't take anyone's life! She didn't try to kill Polivar! She was putting an asshole in his place, that was all! She went home, just let her be. I'll take a punishment for her. Let one of the Mountain men hurt me in her place."

Roose stepped forward and said softly, "How very valiant of you. And it will not work. It can be Kyra, or it can be Kyra, Myranda and Ros. Your choice boy..since you wanted choices." Ramsay seethed but he nudged Robb. "We don't have a fucking choice, asshole. Don't worry, as always I'll take care of the dirty work. That way you can just go home and keep those pretty hands of yours clean." Robb tried to fumble out his phone. "I'll call my father!"

Gregor took the phone and nearly crushed two of Robb's fingers doing it. "There is no calling daddy for help, son. You wanted to come out and play with the big boys. Well, this is is it working for you? Kyra is to be dragged screaming from wherever she has gone and hunted to death. Understand me, boys? And since this is your partner," Gregor poked a thick finger into Robb's face. "You will participate. You will run with them and watch that bitch die. Lessons hurt. Deal with it or get the fuck out of the pack, young wolf."

Roose has taken another bite of shit and was about to share it out. "We have one more thing to address. Joff did get strangled. Every person in this room with the exception of the woman perhaps..should have been able to keep this couple safe. Instead, one of his very own attacked him. This cannot be unanswered. However..."

Roose had a little trouble swallowing such a large chunk of shit and Gregor was clearly enjoying it. The giant looked like he might whip out his cock and masturbate with delight. "It might have been Raff that tried to choke Joff..but according to what we were told...Jeyne had harassed Raff to a point where he was too angry to think things through. So Jeyne is the one to blame."


Chapter Text

Polivar looked at the stunned group as if they were crazy. "What? It was my bad, I accept that. I don't know my own strength's a problem I have long endured. Mommy and Daddy tried to help me..therapy...extra loving touches..." He tried to look traumatized as he walked back to his seat. As he sat down he sang out softly, "I don't hear any piggies..."

Hotpie couldn't stop his sobbing but he started to stumble about, snuffling again and snorting. "That's much better...the sounds of animals soothes the soul, you know. And then later they also taste delicious. But it's true..animal sounds and actions can soothe a person. I think I read that on a Salada teabag or something." Polivar got another beer and started to chug it.

Gendry stared at Polivar in horror and outrage. "You just fucking killed him for no reason! Why did you do that? He was unarmed, he couldn't hurt you!" Arya moaned and shook her head, covering her face with her hands. She understood now, if she dares to intervene in any way, Polivar will do something worse than what he was already intending. All she could do was pray that either Polivar got bored or that Gendry would shut up and just take the shit thrown at him.

Polivar gave Gendry a wide maniacal grin. "Why? A few reasons actually. He was fucking annoying...pulling a rusty gun on me, rude then whiny and demanding. Also, that lil bitch-brat over there wanted to open her fucking mouth. She is in training, a slow learner but she is getting the point now, aren't you, girl?" Arya looked up at Polivar and nodded. "Yes. It won't happen again. I swear it." She kept her face as blank as she could, her eyes as repentant as she could.

" are trying to understand and you are almost there. At least you are getting one thing. We don't mouth off or interrupt Polivar, do we, little Princess?" Arya shook her head. "No, I won't ever interrupt or mouth off to you again." He searched her eyes and face, he could see the anger still brewing underneath her skin. Good, let it really twist because the fun wasn't over yet and he grinned. "Good girl. Have another beer, you too, Sandor. Its a party, after all." He took a long hit then handed the joint to Sandor. "Here, you and the brat."

Grimacing at the smell, Sandor reluctantly took a hit then passed it to Arya. "Where the fuck did they buy that shit? Worse fucking shit I've ever smelled. I mean weed stinks but that is fucking rancid." Polivar looked at Gendry and said, "Let's play with the bull. I know! Make your fingers into horns, shake your head and snort while stamping your feet. Just like a real bull. Come on, do it for Uncle Polivar, won't you? Sweetness? Honeybunches of Bull oats? Do bulls eat oats and why aren't you moving, handsome?"

Gendry kept shaking his head. "No. I won't be like Hotpie. I'm not going to act like an animal for you." Bursting out laughing, Polivar slapped his knees. He calmed and pointed at the boy on his hands and knees burrowing into the dirt. "Lemme tell you something, Bull boy..that piggy is doing something very special. Do you know what that is? That piggy is surviving. Cowardly perhaps, but it's in a piggy's nature. They submit in hopes to survive. Now bulls are fucking stupid and look what happens to them. Last chance, Bull."

A bullet struck Gendry's left foot and he screamed, falling to his knee, then Poliver shot his other foot. "I did warn you to do what I said. Now make the bull horns and snort, I guess shuffling and stamping feet is out." Hotpie had squealed when the gun went off and had curled into a ball. "Piggy, that squeal was lovely, truly a thing of beauty. Now get moving." He started his painful endless crawling and snuffling again without a single hesitation or protest.

Gendry sobbed out in pain then grimly stared at Polivar. "I can't. I won't." Polivar chuckled and shook his head.He began to pace in front of Gendry, his hands behind his back, cradling the gun. "See, now here is a big difference between you and Piggy. Besides that he is rolls of fat and you are the perfect farm fed boy. The difference is how badly each want to survive. See, Piggy there, that little fat fuck is committed. Hell, if I asked him to suck my cock in order to live, he'd be snuffling over here in a heartbeat. For fucks sake, Piggy keep moving, you desperate slobbering piece of shit! You come near my cock without invitation you'll lose your own little prick to my knife!"

Polivar threw a stick hard at Hotpie, who squealed and moved faster, trying to get out of striking range. Sandor eyed the shameful sight then advised softly, "I wouldn't go further away, or he'll fucking kill you." Hotpie forced himself to turn so he was going in a circle, trying not to go anywhere near the quarry edge or Polivar. But Polivar's eyes were only on Gendry now. " I was saying, you aren't as much a survivor, you are just too stubborn but not strong enough to live through me. Are you sure you don't want to just try it for me? It really will be much less painful if you do. Go on, I'm feeling really kind right now, be a bull for me."

Gendry had tears running down his face and his lips trembled but he shook his head. Arya saw that Gendry felt he was standing up to Polivar somehow and she wanted to scream at him. She put her fist into her mouth and bit down, waiting for a bullet to go between Gendry's eyes. "No, huh? That is alright, everyone has their own nature, can't be changed. I understand. Lemme show you something, just a quick lesson in how some will do anything to survive. Maybe it will change your nature." Polivar smiled brightly at Gendry as he holstered his gun. Then he kicked Gendry hard in the face to knock him down.

Hard enough to stun but not enough for Gendry to be too dazed. Polivar whipped out a knife and proceeded to hack a small chunk of flesh off Gendry's stomach. The boy screamed and tried to get away, but it was done fast and messily. Polivar stood up with his prize and threw it on a rock in the fire. "We'll just let that cook some." Arya was on her feet but she came no closer and said nothing at all. Her stomach had started to cramp and bile surged into her throat. "Oh. Sweet. Fucking. Biscuits. Is our little brat going to puke? So much for tough."

Sandor groaned and Polivar started to walk over to stand before the nearly green girl. "Are you? Are you going to throw up? It will land on me if you do, bitch. What do you think I would do to you for that? Go on, recruit, puke on me and see how that works for you. I fucking dare you." Arya tried hard to swallow it down, not to lower her eyes from Polivar's and tears were starting to pour along with sweat. Sandor grumbled out, "Fucking hypocrite. I remember when you puked a few times." Arya managed to swallow her gorge down and trembling, she stood as calm as she could before Polivar. "Shut the fuck up, Sandor." Polivar glared at the man, then he walked back to the fire.

He pulled the now half raw, half burnt piece of flesh out of the fire with a stick. "Now Gendry, stop wailing and pay attention or we'll have to repeat the lesson." Polivar dropped the chunk onto the ground. "Piggy, come here. Got a snack since you can't seem to snuffle out any fucking truffles. Take a bite." Hotpie crawled before the meat but he started to sob and plead, staring at the disgusting flesh. "Please, don't make me...please don't make me do it." Polivar pointed the knife at Hotpie. "Do you want to be on the menu instead?" With a cry of horror and desperation, Hotpie lurched forward and bit into the chunk.

Almost heaving, he tore a small bit off and chewed it. "Chew and swallow it, Piggy." Sandor's hand covered Arya's mouth and he whispered into her ear. "Don't you dare throw up now. Hold on and I'll tell you the last time I saw Polivar throw up on the way home." Gendry vomited as he watched. "Looks like you've swallowed it. Open your mouth and let me see, Piggy." The boy looked deathly sick and he was trying to not throw up as he opened his mouth wide. "Good. Don't worry I won't make you eat the rest. Go on and puke over in the bushes then get back to your crawling." 

Gratefully, Hotpie flew to the bushes and heaved into them. Polivar beamed after him as if a proud parent then he turned his happy face onto Gendry. "Now see, that is someone who truly wants to survive at any cost. He ate you, buddy...just to live. If you were on a shipwrecked beach with him, you'd have to kill him before he ate you. Sounds terrible, I know, but see, he is still breathing and you-" The bullet went through Gendry's forehead. "You aren't and I got bored with you. And then there was one." He turned his gaze onto Hotpie as Arya struggled against Sandor's hand. Polivar looked over at her and said, "What? Do you have something to say? Let go of her mouth, the brat wants to speak to me."

Arya saw the mistake that Sandor yet again was saving her from. She instantly shook her head and lowered her eyes. "Are you sure? You seemed to be struggling. Why were you struggling then? Speak! You seemed like you wanted to a minute ago!" Poliver started to walk over and Arya stammered out, "He..he was holding my jaw too tight and it hurt. I wanted Sandor to let go was all." "Are you sure? Sure you weren't going to try and beg me for Piggy's life?" "No. No, I can't interfere with anything my superiors are doing." It damn near killed her to say that but she couldn't help Hotpie any other way then to butter Polivar up. 

"Good brat. That is right. I am your fucking superior and this is a lesson all for you. So stop your fucking squirming and pay attention. Hear me?" Polivar added a ringing slap to her face to make sure that Arya was indeed paying attention. "Yes sir!" That made him brighten up and he strolled away towards Gendry's body. "Oh Piggy, piggy! Come here." With a sob and a growing whine deep in his throat, Hotpie crawled slowly to Polivar. "Please, please don't kill me! Please!" He cried out, hating himself, hating this man so badly. Polivar sneered at the display then he grinned sadistically. 

"You are too pathetic to kill. And too untrustworthy to allow you to go snuffling back to your own pig pen. We need a fucking mascot and someone to take on the chores of the barracks." Polivar threw HotPie's long coat at his naked dirty body. "Put this on and stand up, you piece of cowardly shit. Sandor throw the Bull into the quarry. This party got boring, let's head home."

Chapter Text

Cersei knelt before the shattered boy. She had to lean very close to hear him breathing at all. Then the tears came because she knew Daddy was in the window watching. He didn't have to tell her that the boy can't live to say anything. She started to lower herself over his head, pinching his nose tightly, the silk robe covered her other hand which tightly covered his mouth. To anyone coming by it looked like the woman was giving mouth to mouth to a person.

"I am so sorry, Bran. You just should have stayed away. Dream something nice, something pretty, here, here, think of this. Think of me opening that window and letting you in. Think of what I would have let you do to me." Cersei's voice continued in soft detail until the boy was gone. Her tears became less genuine and louder. She was winding up for screaming if no one came by soon.

Cat and Ned stood over the girl's dead body. Ned has already called the ambulance, he spun and grabbed his wife by the hair. "What the fuck are you standing here for? The kids! Fix it now!" Cat ran to get another tablet, muttering the well known fact in this family that an ambulance takes thirty minutes to reach them. "Set the timer!" She yelled and Ned yelled back, "Doing it now! Shut up!" Cat cursed and grabbed her terrified son. She shoved the tablet into a spoonful of ice cream. "Swallow it now. We need it to look like the three of you took drugs together!"

Rickon just stared, frozen at the monster who used to be his cold but not deadly mother. Tommen was nearly hyperventilating nearby. Cat growled they didn't have time for this shit. She threw Rickon against the wall, then smacked Tommen hard and shoved him up against the wall next to her son. " is why Myrcella is dead. She didn't listen to us. That is why her eyes bulged, why she must have been terrible for her. It took quite a long time, didn't it? But you two are going to listen, right? You two don't want to die like that." Both boys nodded and Rickon opened his mouth for the ice cream. "Good boys. Now, here is what you will tell everyone."

Jon and Ygritte were just laying next to each other in Jon's car at the bottom of the quarry. Even the few shots they heard from the quarry had not stopped them from their frantic lovemaking. They had left the bar when things seemed to get too tense. It wasn't like anyone was going to really push things too far. Besides, the shots in the quarry were not unusual, sometimes Ramsay's boys go up there with guns and victims. They had just sat up to dress when Locke shot Ygritte through the window. Her head exploded onto Jon and Locke smirked. "You just broke up. Mr. Bolton would like you to pay attention to your fucking job, please." Locke walked away as Jon screamed and cried, holding his dead girlfriend's body.

Damon shook his head and came forward. "Jeyne is mine, my girl, Mr. Bolton! She didn't do anything but try and defend Sansa! Ask Sansa yourself!" Sansa stood up and tried to go forward but Joff grabbed her wrist to prevent her from leaving him. "Damon's right! I was acting reckless and Jeyne was trying to keep me from getting hurt!" Raff spread his hands into the air. "I was asking for a dance. How is a dance hurting her? And Sansa agreed to it! I didn't force her, I asked her. That little cunt was the only one being aggressive! She stabbed me with a fork, you saw that, didn't you? All I did was go to talk to Sansa one last time and that cunt stabbed me. Only then did I finally get aggressive back." Raff smiled sweetly at them all.

Roose glared at them then he looked at Robb and Ramsay. "It is Jeyne, or it is Reek and Jeyne." "Jeyne." It was said in unison and they shuddered again. Damon came forward and they both grabbed him. "Don't you fucking dare, Damon. I'll kill you myself." Ramsay growled, hating what he was doing to his own best friend. Gregor came forward with a smirk and grabbed the shocked girl by her long black hair. "Let's make the punishment fit the crime, we want to be fair, after all. And there has been enough deaths to satisfy us tonight." Gregor wrapped his fist around the hair and yanked Jeyne out of the booth.

As soon as the Mountain came forward, Joff had grabbed Sansa and put her in front of him as a shield. Tyrion tried to say something as Gregor yanked the girl away but nearly everyone but Sansa and Damon glared at him not to make it worse. Gregor made sure his eyes landed on every single northerner in the room. "Since it's clear that my boys aren't completely welcome here yet, they will need to get their entertainment another way. I bet Raff can tame your feral bitch for you, Damon. She belongs to him now and luckily he always shares with his friends." Gregor shoved Jeyne hard towards Raff. "There boy, now you have a pet of your own just like Ramsay."

Raff laughed as he pulled Jeyne's arms hard behind her back to stop her struggling. "I consider this perfect compensation, thank you. Don't worry, Damon, I'll let you know how her training goes." Jeyne went between cursing at Raff to begging Damon to save her. He got her wrists in one hand and he put his arm around her neck to slowly choke her out. "Loud bitch too and rude. I can fix that, easy peasy." As soon as Jeyne went limp, he tossed her over his shoulder. Gregor gestured to his boys and they started to leave. "I trust that I can leave you with the discipline of the rest?" Roose nodded stiffly.

As soon as Gregor and his men left, Damon sagged into a booth and covered his face. At the same time, Roose slapped Ramsay's face hard enough to make him stumble into Robb. "Now, get Ben and the dogs. You will both hunt Kyra down and be a part of her torture and death. Do you hear me, young man?" Roose stuck his face into Robb's holding the boy's chin as Robb tried to stand up. "There is no calling your father, there is my punishment only. You WILL assist in this so you can see what happens when you don't do your fucking jobs right. Time for you to see what pain you cause to others, perfect Robb Stark. Get the hell up and stop this shameful fucking behavior, the both of you." Roose cuffed their left wrists together with  a chain that gives them only half a foot from each other.

"This way I know you are going to do it. And Ramsay, if Robb only watches, if he does not participate in the rest, I will take it out of both your skins." Ramsay growled. "Thanks a lot, cocksucker." he glared at Robb who stared at Roose like this was all just a bad dream. "I can't...that isn' father won't be happy about this! You can't make me torture an innocent girl!" Roose smacked Robb into a sullen silence. "I can and I will. You will or I swear I will flay your elbows. Your father should have taught you better years ago but he didn't. Well, tonight you learn. Now go, all of you that have a hunt."  

Chapter Text

Hotpie cowered in the back of the pick up truck, huddled into his jacket, crying against the wind. Arya found herself in the awful position of sitting between Polivar and Sandor as they drove home. Sandor drove and began to speak as Polivar was drifting off to a lovely snooze.

"Gregor doesn't allow us attachments. Only loyalty, respect and dedication to each other and Gregor. When I was about ten, I had some kittens, loved the furry little balls. Gregor saw how much I loved them. He waited until I really got attached to them. Then he made me drown them one by one."

Arya gave him a look of sympathy but Sandor wasn't looking at her. A sneer came across his face and he chuckled.

"Now Polivar, he had to learn the same lesson. So when his little girlfriend he was hiding wearing an engagement ring was discovered..." Polivar sat up and grimly stared at Sandor. "That is enough."

Sandor glared and said, "No, its fucking not. I promised a story, she gets it. Fuck you, I have put up with enough of your shit tonight, don't push it any further." Polivar bared his teeth but said nothing.

Sandor continued after a moment of silence in the truck.

"Gregor made Polivar watch while all the boys got a turn on the girl. Then Gregor took a turn, breaking her fucking bones and when he came, he exploded the girl's head with his fucking hands. The lovesick Polivar sprayed vomit everywhere then cried like a fucking baby for hours. He didn't come out of his room for two weeks nearly."

Arya didn't dare smile or laugh but it did make her feel better. However, Polivar was now shooting curses and threats at Sandor.


Tyrion was still standing on the table as the Bolton Boys filed out along with Robb Stark handcuffed to Ramsay. Roose waited, looking at Tyrion. "I shall be the escort for the children if you'd like." "No thank you, Roose, I have it." Tyrion said with authority he still hoped he had. Roose nodded and said, "Very well. And who is this young man that Damon was chasing? He is north but not one of us, Tyrion."

Podrick lost all color to his face as Tyrion quickly said, "New employee as of tonight. He is my driver, butler, personal assistant." Roose stared at them both then slowly said, "Keep your boy in line then. And of course he shall live in the servant quarters at your home, correct?"

Nodding, Tyrion assured Roose that Podrick will indeed live in the home and both of them smiled wildly at the man. Roose shook his head and left. Podrick sighed in relief of not losing his very life, as Tyrion turned and slapped his nephew as hard as he could. Then he gave two more slaps to really get his point across.

"You are an idiot! You nearly got yourself killed and Sansa possibly raped! Do you have any idea what they could do to fresh little meat like you two? What the hell were you two thinking coming here?" 

Joff glared and Tyrion and announced that Tyrion couldn't hit him anymore. "Then get your ass into Podrick's car now!" Sansa started to lead Joff towards the car. "Come on, Joff, your father just died, let's go home. Your mother will be expecting you and your grandfather. What would they say if we didn't show up?"

Drunk and pissed, humiliated beyond belief, Joff got halfway across the driveway before flinging Sansa away from himself. "So what if my father died? He was a drunk wife and child beater, he was a traitor to his own friends, who gives a flying fuck if Fat Robert is dead?"

"I don't care what you think. He was a man who raised you, supported and hid your fucked up life so you will pretend to show respect!" Tyrion yelled as he then ruthlessly began to kick Joff's ass all the way into the car.

Sansa waited, lighting a joint and sharing it with Podrick.  When Tyrion came back to retrieve them he finished the joint for them as he lectured Sansa until he finished the weed. A former orderly now turned butler, a stoned dwarf ad two sullen youths in the back headed for home.  


Reek followed his Master as he always does. He tries to stay close enough for Ramsay's watchful eye but distant enough not to draw any attention from Robb. It was a near impossible task as his Master and Robb were cuffed together. He kept his eyes down, his head down and stayed near Ramsay's right side. Robb was looking very grim and Ramsay didn't look happy either. Reek himself kept crying and Ramsay yelled at him for it.

"Well, at least he has fucking feelings, Ramsay. I mean, we are about to torture and murder an innocent girl." Robb had grumbled. Ramsay rammed his fist into the dashboard and roared, "Kyra has been my friend too, Robb! I fucking grew up with her, dated her and bet on her in fights. You think I like this? You think I want to kill her? That I want to put her through this fucking hell? We have no choice, asshole! Welcome to the dirty work, you over-privileged asshat."

Damon took his upset over losing his girl out on Kyra. Ben was also sad to have to put Kyra down, but a hunt was still a hunt. Skinner dragged her out of her bed. Ramsay's voice was sympathetic but hard as he told her the death sentence upon her. She screamed, pleaded and swore, making Reek hold his ears shut and cry. He wanted to be home, to have his Master's arms around him and not see this. Not see a nice girl he likes getting hurt and killed. He doesn't want to think about how his best friend Jeyne was just given over to a group that is more sadistic than his own. 

Reek always obeys. So he follows as they drag Kyra and shove her into the woods. They scream for her to run as Robb just keeps apologizing and she keeps screaming at them. Damon had enough of it and unfurled his whip so it could dance. Kyra ran then, she ran very fast, way faster than Reek could.

They drove her, the dogs released, Skinner was hitting her with rocks giggling and Damon would get close enough to lash at her. Red lines and bloody bruises appeared as the girl kept running, trying to change direction to dodge them. She wasn't aware they were driving her but Reek knew it.

For once Reek wasn't the last one in the chase. Robb kept pulling back on the cuff, making it hard for Ramsay to keep up. They fought the whole way and Reek simply followed behind them quietly. He knew when the dogs caught the girl, her scream and the growls let him know and he cried more.

That wasn't the bad part, that was coming next and Ramsay was dragging Robb faster now. Reek didn't want to look but he knew Master would be angry if Reek wasn't watching. After what happened tonight, the last thing Reek wants is Master to be angry with him. Reek wants to keep his fingers and toes.

So he looked down at Kyra, covered in bloody bites, unable to stand on her wounded legs anymore. Damon gave her a few licks of his whip and Skinner kicked her until they heard a rib snap and the two of them laughed. Ramsay approached her and ordered the men to hold her open and down. "Alright, boys, everyone have a turn." Ramsay said in a deadpan voice. The boys swarmed her and Reek watched as she screamed and was repeatedly mounted.

"I won't fucking do it, Ramsay." Robb growled. "Well, I can't either, not with attached to me, fucking talk about losing a boner!" Ramsay growled back. "But you will participate in her torture ad death whether you want to or not. Did you not see how I flayed Dunsen earlier? Did you not notice how he screamed like a little girl? And does he look like a man that screams easily? No. That is because flaying hurts very badly, Robb. And I don't want my father flaying me tonight. So you will join in."

Reek watched as the men pulled Kyra up and tied her between two trees. He hated this part the most and wished he could hide or look away.  This time was even worse, not only was it someone Reek liked but now Robb is being made to help. It took all the boys to hold Robb but Ramsay made that shaking hand hold the knife with him for the first few cuts.Ramsay let Robb's hand go and began to flay in earnest.

Then when Robb couldn't take another second of Kyra's tortured screams and begging for death, Robb slit her throat, crying the whole time. He vomited and shook as if with fever while Ramsay finished skinning Kyra. Only after he had enough skin to please his father, did Ramsay stop. "Reek, come lick me clean." 

It had horrified Robb when Ramsay and the boys got naked for the hunt but he understood the practicality. Seeing Reek eagerly crawl forward to timidly lick every bit of blood off of Ramsay was too much. Robb started to scream at Ramsay then threw up more.

Chapter Text

In between the Lannisters and the Baratheon's home was a small road. It wound behind the Lannisters and it connected to a road that wound behind the homes. A small path into the Lannister's property led to a two story rather plain looking house. There were plenty of other small buildings around the estate but only one of them went near this house. A thick tree near the front of the house had a white wooden sign that proclaimed in thick black paint, THE BARRACKS.

Not long after they moved into the North, Tywin had the house put up for the Mountain's men. Gregor has his own home within ear and eye shot. A lovely cottage that had luxuries of a penthouse and even his own brother wasn't allowed to step foot in it. He intends to keep his new home as well his position regardless of what all of these rich idiots do. Small things annoy them, like the sounds of young sadistic, energetic men partying or the thought of what the house must smell and look like on the inside.

So Gregor had the barracks soundproofed, only for those outside of it. Inside the house it could sound like a fucking slaughter of demonic forces by evil aliens pissed off about new artwork and no one standing on the porch would hear it. Inside, might as well learn to tune out extra sounds or just join in.  The second thing Gregor had done was make sure the boys understood it was not a frat house. He urged them to think of it as a military barracks or considering the luxuries offered, consider it a man cave for a man with a very socialite wife with O.C.D. associated with cleanliness.

Every room, even each man's own small bedroom had a list of chores posted on it. It lists what days certain things must be done, it lists things that must be done every day or once a month. One complaint that each member of the house has, is the fucking chores. Once it was timed out by Dusten and it turned out that they each lost two hours each day to chores. Once a month the whole house must be turned over and it takes the whole of them about three days to finish the whole thing. Gregor said it should take them one day, before the sunset. When the boys all hotly denied this, Gregor proved it. He dragged a very sullen Sandor with him and the two of them turned the entire barracks in six hours.

It was never really that clean again. However every chore was checked off and done. It was just that these men didn't have the same version of cleaning that Gregor did. If they went over a dirty spot with a cleaning item, it was cleaned. Even if that spot remained, it was now deemed a cleaned spot. As long as Tywin could walk in and judge it to be tolerable servant quarters then Gregor was happy. Right now Gregor stood staring at his men and he was not happy at all. They were all in front of the barracks but that wasn't his upset. No, his upset was not the mess inside the house but rather the mess his boys made at the bar.

"Enjoy your fucking night with the slut. I mean I want you all to really enjoy yourselves. Get a little more to drink, have a night to remember. Then I want all your asses out here tomorrow morning at six, all lined up. We are going to get the rest of it out of your system with some hardcore training. Dusten, you are NOT excused from this. Go see Qyburn then get your ass back to the barracks. Party or go to sleep, I don't give a fuck but you will be out here at six in the morning. Make sure to pass the message on to Polivar.The second anyone sees Sandor or Arya, tell them to get their asses to my office."

Gregor stormed over to the garage attached to his house that he uses as an office and punishment area if needed. Attached to this is their gym area and training rooms. He didn't even get further than turning on the light before Tywin was calling him. Gregor listened to the new developments and shook his head. What the fuck is wrong with these people? Still listening on the phone, he headed for the Baratheon's house yet again tonight.

After speaking with Tywin and receiving new orders for all, Gregor headed back to the office. His oversized desk chair creaked for mercy but held firm as he sat down. He played with his phone for a moment while thinking out his next move. Opening a drawer, Gregor took out a small bottle of whiskey and a shot glass along with some extra strength Tylenol. A moment later, the door opened and a very large shadow with a much smaller one stood between the dark outside and the lit office. "Get your asses in here now."

Sandor and Arya both stood with their hands behind their backs, chins up and eyes facing forward. Gregor sneered and slowly stood up pacing before them. "Did we have a nice night? Hmm? After you deserted the couple you are supposed to be watching over, you took Polivar to the hospital. And that is all I know, so tell me what happened next?" Gregor glared at Sandor while the man tried to explain the night to him. It ended and Gregor delivered a fist to Sandor's gut that made him bend over with a woofing sound. The fist to the jaw sent Sandor slamming hard to the floor.

"It never occurred to you to not stop at the quarry with him? It never occurred to you to get in touch with me when shit started to happen? Or how about the decision to leave the couple unattended? Or to decide to just ignore my orders that Arya was only allowed off grounds if she was with you or an escort? DID IT FUCKING OCCUR TO YOU THAT YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING HUGE AMOUNT OF MISTAKES! YOU DON'T WANT TO BE KNOWN AS THE NANNY? WHEN WILL YOU DO SOMETHING TO PROVE YOU ARE MORE THAN THAT? YOU CAN'T EVEN DO YOUR NANNY JOB RIGHT! THERE ARE TWO CHILDREN DEAD, TWO ARE BEING ATTACKED AT A BAR AND WHERE THE FUCK IS THE NANNY? HE IS WATCHING ONE OF MY MEN SLAUGHTER A GROUP OF TEENS!"

Gregor roared and Arya quaked but stood still. Sandor spit blood and cringed under his brother's condemnation. A hard kick into Gregor's midsection and then the man started to walk away, breathing heavily. He rotated his neck then his shoulders. Turning around, he started to pace before them, calmer. "Tonight there have been some deaths. Robert fell down his stairs and broke his neck. Myrcella has overdosed at the Stark's home and Bran Stark fell from Cersei's ledge and broke his own neck." He waited as Arya stared up at him in disbelief and opened and closed her mouth for a moment. Tears filled her eyes but did not fall.

Sandor stood back up and narrowed his eyes. "That is an awful lot of accidental deaths in one night between two houses. There will be trouble and now Joff will think he's the fucking man of the house."

Gregor snorted. "Of course there will be trouble! And leave Joff to his grandfather and uncles. Tywin will keep Cersei and Joff in line. Each house will blame the other for their child's death and demand some payback. It is more important than ever to keep an eye on this family. Tommen and Joff are targets for the Starks. Not to mention we have the Boltons pissed about the bar situation tonight. I want everyone to tighten their shit up while we have a few quiet days while they set up their fucking services. I want to see you on the lawn of the barracks at six in the morning. There will be new orders for all and that will be after I make you all sweat out your fucking stupidity. Now get out."

"Not you, girl. Just Sandor."

Chapter Text

"Move, keep walking. No, stop there, can't have you going inside the Barracks like that. You fucking dirty, stinking, we can use the garden hose. Oh, is it too cold, gonna cry again, Piggy? Here, use this, we use it to wash our cars, it will do. Get under every one of those fat rolls, boy! Look at you, I can't decide if I want to laugh or cry, boy! Don't worry, working here will get you in shape sooner or later. Or maybe I'll just keep trying to beat the fat out of you! Clean and shiny pink, perfect. Now, get your ass up on the porch."

"Last time Gregor was here he left some old undershirt that had ripped while he was beating the shit out of Tickler. It might actually work for it is, we haven't emptied this bin in a while...Look at that! It covers you almost to your damned knees. Your fat rolls are almost hidden until you move. Good enough for you, isn't it, Piggy?"

Hotpie nods. Of course he nods, this is the way of things, always with the bullies. You agree, you let them humiliate you and hope they go away. Eventually they do, in spite of seeing his friends die, in spite of standing here, Hotpie clung to his theory. Just let it happen and it will end. He stubbornly held that theory even as they entered the house. It was clung to as the others exclaimed surprise, disgust and humor over Hotpie. They taunted and poked for a moment. He was dragged through the house fast, shown lists of chores on every door and threatened over what would happen if they were not done.

Fine. No problem, if he does these things they will laugh and somewhere along the way someone will release him. They will get bored. They probably just need the house cleaned and don't want to do it. He will do it and go home. His uncle won't even notice if he was missing a few days. No big deal, just take it. Until he was brought back to watch something, all he heard was "Raff was taming his feral cunt". It sounded like something he would not want to see.

He timidly offered to Polivar to begin cleaning instead. Polivar responded with punching Hotpie until he cried. "Did I tell you to come with me? Yeah? Then what do you think it means? Stupid fucking piggy, get your ass moving! Now stand right here and don't move. Do you some good to see what happens to those who piss us off. This bitch here, she decided to piss off she pays. Soon as it's all over, you get to start cleaning the mess and I am sure there will be one hell of a mess." Hotpie swallowed hard and tried to stay completely still. He wished Polivar would order him to crawl around snorting. Then he wouldn't have to look.

It can't be any worse than what I've already seen. Just let it happen, girl, just like I am and it will end soon. Then he saw the tiny fierce little girl that was doused with a bucket of water. He has seen her before, she was the girlfriend of the largest Bolton boy and she was known to be a crazy bitch. Hotpie saw her in a fight once and she beat the girl nearly senseless just for calling her a name. She was meek when she was next to her boyfriend but on her own the girl was hell on wheels. Piggy groaned softly knowing this girl wouldn't take it and just hope it would end. All Hotpie could do was watch and hope it ended fast. He was sure they would rape her then just put a bullet in her head.

 Almost analytically, Hot Pie observed how the others circled the girl to drive her into panic, while Raff leaned against the wall. The man was handsome in an angular, almost angelic and young way. His eyes nearly glowed as if seeing a special gift, his perfectly formed lips were trying to form a smirk and somehow it worked. Yet it made the man look like some demonic angel and Hotpie shuddered. He never understood that about those kind of bullies. The always nice looking ones, the smart ones that could be doing everything and anything because of how they look. Why they would waste times tormenting those who aren't as lucky?

Judging by the intense look on Raff's face, his bullying of this girl will be something that would be terrible. Hotpie tried to not think at all, after he thought something that made him shamed. At least I won't be the only one pissing down their leg too. The men were all laughing, taunting her and grabbing, pinching, grasping at her. She fought them, Jeyne growled and shook, spinning, biting, kicking and punching never quite getting through the ring of hands and bodies. "Damon and Ramsay will come for me! If I don't kill you one by one myself! You fucking raging battle chodes, you think I'll let you fuck me? Are you all that desperate, huh? That fucking pathetic you can't hook up with a willing girl?"

But Hotpie saw the fear and dilated eyes, the trembling, teeth chattering, if he can see it from here, they all see it. And they started to close in, letting her go wild with panic. Jeyne leaped backwards, hit the table and rolled over it. She came down and grabbed the chair and brought it down over Tickler. "Ow, dammit! That hurt." He grumbled, but then grinned at her. Jeyne swore as she leaped onto the table and began to pant, her eyes darting for an escape, a weapon. Hotpie wondered if they would let her use one, just to taunt her. Sure enough, Dusten came forward with a fork. He carefully extended his arm and slowly place the fork on the table. 

"Here. Tell you what, we'll give you one chance. We admire the shit out of your fighting spirit. And you were clearly given a few lessons with Kyra. I mean...we aren't against women fighting, after all. Hell, we have Arya Stark as one of our own! So..I'll tell you what. If you can manage to injure one of us with that fork, I'll let you leave. Raff, you agree to that?" Dusten looked over at his friend with a charming smile. Hotpie thought if the girl believed that, she was an idiot. This was the other good looking one who just dripped charm that was mixed with a sadism that so few so coming. Two of one kind of bully, the rest are the monster he is most used to. 

Raff straightened up and seemed to consider this. He smirked at Jeyne then shrugged. "Why not?" Sneering, Tickler paced back and forth like a caged lion. "This bitch doesn't understand how much we were holding back at the bar. Go on, little feral, see where challenging us gets you." Jeyne was desperate, Hotpie saw it in her eyes, that deep down she knew that wasn't leaving her alive. And yet, the same as Hotpie had to believe he'd leave after they got bored with him, Jeyne had to believe she could win. She grabbed the fork and leaped. Jeyne was tired and terrified and panicked, but they were fast and brutal. It took them only moments to get the fork away without a scratch among them. 

"Don't break any bones, don't wreck her face..." Raff called over. They fell upon her with fists and feet. Hotpie winced and stifled whimpers as tears fell. Jeyne screamed and cursed at them, trying to fight them off. She was beaten until the words became nothing but howls of pain and whimpering. No longer fighting, curled on the ground, trying to cover her head with her arms. That is when Raff came forward, smiling. He pulled her up by a fistful of hair. Raff's eyes glowed as if he were seeing his lover, his words soft and lilting, as if he were trying to charm her. "You are going to be MY feral bitch from now on, dear heart. Let's start with a very simple but truly needed lesson. You are a rude mouthy cunt. I don't like that. I want my pet to be silent unless I want to hear her. And after hearing your mouth all night, I no longer wish to hear you speak."

Hotpie was desperate to look away as the men held the screaming girl still. Raff looked angelic even while he was sewing her lips shut with a silver wire. Then they threw her to the ground and for a moment, Jeyne curled, holding her mouth in horror. She tried to stand and run. Dusten kicked her hard back to the kitchen tiles. Raff walked over her cringing, bruised body and showed her a length of cable wire. "I don't need a real whip to make my point. Or maybe I do? Let's find out. Next important lesson. You do not run from me, you don't even get to stand up unless you have permission. Now, lovely girl, we do need to make sure this lesson really sticks with you. Feral bitches are generally very stupid. It is alright though, little pet, I am going to help you." With every strike, Hotpie flinched.

It continued until the girl began to not just scream but try and beg through her sewn mouth. "You want me to stop? Crawl to me and rub your pretty little face on my boots." Jeyne scrambled on her hands and knees to put her head down onto the boot, her body covered in swollen lines, her back, arms, chest and legs and ass. Her breasts had a few lines deep enough with seeping blood. As the trembling girl groveled before him, Raff brightened his smile. "Good girl." He leaned down and ran a hand down her head and back, making her whimper in pain and shudder in fear. When he straightened up he looked at his friends and smirked at their lustful looks at his new pet.

"Oh alright, tell you fucking perverts what. Everyone gets one turn. After I fuck her first of course. I mean, she is sloppy seconds from the Boltons, but she is mine. Don't want to have her ripped apart by you assholes so I can't use her. So no tearing her up, Gregor will be pissed if I have to bring her to the clinic. The only one that gets to break Jeyne is me." Hotpie watched hopelessly as they held her up, spreadeagled tightly by large hands. Raff stood between her legs and told her once she has earned it, he would use lubricant. Then he wiped the blood from a very deep cut upon her stomach unto his cock. He plunged into her and fucked her so hard the boys almost dropped the girl twice. Screaming beneath her gag, Jeyne tried to squirm but couldn't get away.

He came hard, whispering that Jeyne was his now, his own little tiny fuckpet. Then he pulled out and gave her a smirk. "You have no choices anymore. You have nothing but what I give you, you will do everything that I tell you. Now, you will be fucked hard by each of these men," Pausing, Raff gave a tiny laugh. "Don't worry, little girl, you don't have to fuck that fat shit over there..just my brothers." Hotpie was too horrified by it all to even be embarrassed. Raff stepped aside and Polivar was there. He grabbed her and threw her onto the table. Jeyne scrambled for a minute, trying to get hold of the slippery wooden surface. Polivar grabbed her legs and yanked them onto his shoulders. He used one hand to hold her wrists together and rode her frantically.

Hotpie would have done anything to shut his eyes or even gouge them out. After Polivar shuddered to an end while still hissing insults at her, Tickler took his turn. They forced her on her hands and knees, ass up and head down. Polivar kept his foot on her head, so she would not try to move away. Hotpie watched as Tickler dug his sharp fingernails into her hips until small scarlet streams delicately ran down her skin. He knelt behind her and fucked her like a dog. Grunting and sweating profusely, his balls were slapping against the girl who was screeching through the wire. Tickler had taken her up the ass and it became apparent very fast that she was a virgin there. The screaming and jerking in pain made the sadist go fast. 

Jeyne lay there, semen and blood leaking out of her, sobbing, no fight left as Dusten approached. "Aww...poor must be raw as hell, huh?" He cooed then he leaned down and he gently lifted her up. Cradling the tiny girl, Dusten sat in a chair. Jeyne whined and tensed as he swiftly undid his pants. "Ride me, little feral. I will be kind, I won't fuck you up your ass, I won't hit you while we fuck." Jeyne sobbed but lowered her head, nodding. "Good girl! Oh, I think I am jealous, Raff!" Dusten joked, as he showed Jeyne a small bottle. "Here, you deserve a reward. You may use this on my cock and yourself, if you do it right now." Hotpie watched as the broken girl used the lube, her small hands working on Dusten's cock and she winced when she touched herself with the lube.

"Oh, poor sweet little fucktoy has been all used hard. Just one more cock, honey then maybe your Master will let you rest if you grovel him nicely enough." Hotpie watched as Jeyne whined in pain and forced herself to ride Dusten's cock. He put his hands on her waist and began to lift and drop her hard. Her hands clutched his shoulders, as Dusten started to ram her up and down as if she were a sex toy. He groaned and stood up, holding her by her ass and her throat. He fucked her against the wall, while she begged and whined under her sealed lips. Dusten groaned in pleasure as he poured himself into her. Gently, he put her on the ground and whispered, "Crawl to your Master and grovel. Maybe it will get you some mercy."

Jeyne crawled fast over to Raff and groveled. But Hotpie knew that it wasn't over yet. Raff petted her head and smiled approvingly. "Good girl. Now, let's get some pictures and then I'll show you where you can rest. You'll love it." Hotpie was dry eyed now. With his hands held behind his back, Hotpie stood and stared at them as his empathy rapidly decreased and his survival needs grew stronger.

Chapter Text

Jon staggered into the house, having walked in shock all the way home. He was covered in blood and gore because he had tried to see if he could somehow fix the wound. Then when he saw her brains, he clutched her and screamed, cried for who knows how long. He opened his car door and just began to head home. It was late, everything was quiet and dark, Jon assumed no one would see him. He wanted to shower and go to bed. Tears kept falling and he kept seeing her eyes go blank, it haunted him.

"Jon." No. No, no no, he couldn't, not tonight. "I can't. Please don't...Ygritte...shot in the head. I am covered in her. Not tonight. This once please have mercy." Cat's face was stone as always. "No. There is a shower in our room, use it quickly. Ned is occupied in his den." She went into her room and Jon thought about running away. Or telling his father or a hundred other things like breaking this evil bitch's neck. He sobbed hard but entered the room. Showering fast and vigorously, Jon tried to go away in his head, away from it all. But he kept coming back to a gunshot.

He knelt before his stepmother, naked and wet as she commanded. This was the most she had ever spoken to him since training him. Jon was in a state of shock, he couldn't think for himself at all. Somehow Cat found this even more arousing, trying to fight down the shame that tried to stop her. "Do I have to remind you how to use your mouth, boy?" She was sitting in the same chair she had nursed her own children in, legs spread wide, her robe nearly crumpled beneath her. Jon shook his head and began to use his tongue to please her.

She could feel his tears, feel his pain and the way his shoulders shuddered, it made her moan. Suddenly, Cat found plenty to say. "You poor bastard. I heard that Locke put a bullet right in Ygritte's head in front of you. Now you are truly alone, you little bastard. Will you watch them put her in the ground?" Jon sobbed and Cat slammed her cunt into his face, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, fucking hard on his face.

"Lick me or I'll beat you! I'll fuck you with my strap on! Do you remember that time when you were so bad! A ten year old little shit that didn't want to obey just because he had a small root canal! Remember how you screamed into that gag? Do you remember how hard I fucked you? I came three times before I stopped. Do you want me to do that tonight? That way you can have a whole new memory for the night? It can be the night that your one true love died and you were brutally raped by your stepmother. That's better, cry and lick, you fucking bastard, don't you dare stop or I'll do it!" 

Cat threw him to the ground and crawled on top of his face. She never looked at anything, she was drowning in Jon's agony. Very quietly, in the dark hallway, Ned was peering through the crack in the door. His face was carved granite, his mouth turned down grimly. And yet, he did not end Jon's suffering, he waited. Mainly because he wanted to record the entire thing, what a gem to have over his wife. But he was angry at her for this, how dare she? Disgusting bitch and yet his cock grew hard at the thought of his revenge upon her.

"She is dead...already turning to rot. You are alone, you are nothing, you have nothing. Does it hurt, Jon? Does it hurt to lose someone whom you truly loved? Did you have dreams of marrying her, running away with her? Having children with her?" The boy sobbed barely able to use his tongue at all, he couldn't even breathe, he was strangling a little and that did it.

Cat snapped her hips hard, grinding hard against Jon's face then tensed, soaking the boy's face. "I wish you died with her." She managed to squeal out before she lost words. Shuddering, pouring onto him, Cat made a high pitched sound before slumping on him for a moment. Then she moved over, the orgasm was too powerful for her to stand yet. 

Jon curled into a ball, knowing the rules, he cannot wipe or wash his face until morning. Cat panted for a moment, then got as far as reaching the chair. She was about to use it to get up when the door slowly finished swinging open and there was Ned. Suddenly, Cat was able to spring up, clawing at the robe on the chair. hurrying to wrap it around herself like a shield. Jon wailed in terrible shame and fear upon seeing his father's shoes enter the room.

"How long?" His voice was low and thick. Cat paled and shrugged. "A long time." "How long? Jon, how long?" Jon sat up, head down and muttered, "Since I can remember, I think. I try not to think of it." Ned nodded. "Jon, wash your face, shower again in fact, then go to bed. This will never happen again. Jon, if she ever asks you again, you have my permission to tell her no. Then come tell me of it."

With a grateful sob, Jon hurried to get dressed. "Thank you, father. Thank you." Jon ran out of the room and threw himself into another shower. It felt wonderful to scrub his face and he sobbed and howled wordlessly for himself and for Ygritte.

Cat backed away as Ned approached her. He waved his phone at her. "Go ahead, say you'd just deny it. Keep pissing me off enough, I might divorce you and what would you get after I show this? Huh? Think I can't get each of the kids to say they were abused as well or that they were the ones that taped this? You disgusting bitch and you dare to say Cersei's scandal is a disgrace? You have spent years molesting and tormenting my son. It fucking ends tonight forever. I need a strong loyal male to serve me more than I need you. You can't give me anymore children, the kids hate you. I could remarry, some young thing that is sweet to the kids and can breed more. So you think of that the next time you decide to bother my son! Maybe I can give you an alternative. Yeah?" 

As Ned began to unbuckle his belt then remove his clothing, Cat tried to protest. "Please, not while you are so angry! We have services! Media coming! I can't be injured, Ned! Think of it, please!" Ned grimly assured her, "Don't worry, it won't be anything anyone can see, love. Now that off that robe and get on the bed. Or else, I can offer a beating instead?" He was careful when he fisted her not to cause much damage, though he enjoyed her sobbing.

"You used a strap on? Was it nice and big? Get it, I want to see it." Ned stared at the gruesome horror. It was large black rubber with a strange tip to it. It was quite large and would take an adult man time to adjust to it. "I am surprised he didn't hemorrhage and die, Cat." She sniffed and wiped her nose as her tears kept coming. "I used a good amount of lube and I took my time inserting it. He did have some damage, tearing, afterwards. I took him to a free clinic an hour away and they stitched him up."

Ned shook his head in revolted disbelief and yet he started to get a hard grin on his face. He noticed a wire sneaking out of the bottom of the dildo and it ended in a small ball to be pressed. Grabbing the ball, Ned pressed it, expecting it to vibrate or pulse. Instead there was a small jolt, it was a shock that was only half as painful as being tasered. He experimented with it on his hand. "How many times did you press the bulb when you fucked my ten year old son with this?"

Cat said nothing and one large hand was magically squeezing her throat as he grinned into her face. "How. Many?" She gasped for air, ripping at his hand with her nails. "Seven at least! I don't know maybe more!" Ned released her throat and Cat couldn't help herself as she hissed at him, "It was the best fuck I'd ever had! I have fantasized about doing it again so many times! His fucking pain is the best aphrodisiac I can ever have!"

It took everything within him to remember that his wife cannot show up at the services if she is in the hospital with a broken jaw. He threw her stomach down on the bed. "Hands and knees, you revolting cunt! Let's see how many times I can press the button before I come." While Cat screamed into the mattress, Ned used the lube quite sparingly before forcing the dildo up her ass.

Leaning over her, he fucked her hard with it, while he slid his cock into her pussy. As he pumped her in both holes, he spoke harshly. "Your husband despises you. Your children hate you. Even your son, your favorite child would rather be with a Bolton in a bar then anywhere near you. Everyone, including your friends all despise you." He squeezed the pump. As his wife tensed and twitched, screeching, he had to admit it did feel and sound wonderful. He used it ten times before he spilled his load into her.

Chapter Text

Cersei sat on the couch with Tommen laying with his back against her. She wrapped him in blankets and wrapped her arms around him. He was so cold, teeth chattering and yet, he was sweating. Baring her teeth, she looked up at her father. "They did this! Look at him, he is sick and terrified! Where is Qyburn?" She had to concentrate on this living, breathing boy in her arms. She cannot think of losing her daughter yet, no, better to focus on Tommen. He was a sweet boy, just a little quirky, a boy who liked to be left to himself. But he was her son and someone hurt him.

Tywin sighed. "Of course they are responsible for it." He leaned down and looked at Tommen. "You do not have to use your words. All you have to do is use your head to shake yes or no. And then I'll not bother with it again. Deal?" The boy nodded slowly. "Good. Now. You and your sister were drugged and interrogated by Mr. and Mrs. Stark. About your mother and father, about the family, about if Robert really fell? Your sister reacted badly to the medication and they threatened you if you told us. Correct?"

Cersie sobbed once as Tommen timidly nodded and looked away. Nodding with satisfaction, Tywin stood up. "I wouldn't put it past them to have drugged their son afterwards for their cover story." Tommen gave another quick nod, looking at his twitching hands. Cersie felt tears of rage fall down her face. She hissed out, "They will pay. I'll-"

"You'll do NOTHING. You will say nothing."  Tywin broke in. "If you say a word to them about the mysterious death of your daughter or the condition of your son...they will have questions to ask about Bran's death and Robert's. Do you want the pictures on the news to be of you and Cat as grieving widows or of two rich society wives that killed each others children? Because I can promise you, it will be you that I will scapegoat for this. And Ned won't hesitate to do the same to his wife. You know I speak the truth."

"Yes, I am aware of how much you two value women. So I am to just let this have no plans for payback?" Cersei hugged her son as if he were a teddy-bear to comfort her, he squirmed and whined a little. Tywin snorted. "We are slowly taking over everything, this time next year everything will be ours. They will mostly be dead except Sansa, Arya and possibly the youngest boy if we can get him at the end. The Boltons will take me up on my offer as soon as they see the Starks weakened. If you behave, then when it is time, I will allow you to be there when Cat dies or perhaps you can even participate in it. If you are a good girl."

Cersei shivered at her father's terrible pet name for her and the warning. At the same time her nipples grew hard, oh to slit Cat's throat or poison her. She swears she would masturbate as the woman died. "I would love to do it myself, daddy. I promise to be a good girl."

The conversation ended just as Joff, Sansa and Tyrion came in. All three still drunk and Tyrion went to the bar without a word to anyone. Joff staggered to the couch and glared blearily at everyone. "What the fuck has happened?" As Tywin gave the news of all the murders he made enough scathing remarks towards the three of them for not being there. All three had cringed at least twenty times.

Tyrion was originally only getting a drink for himself but he gave one to Sansa out of sympathy. She had tried to speak to Tommen and Cersei and the golden lioness roared her away. "Cersei is emotional right now but I am sure later on she will appreciate your support, Sansa. Why don't you sit next to Joff?" 

Sansa sat down and Joff got up to see what was twinkling on the small side table. "Are these all of my fathers rings?" Tywin nodded. "Yes, I decided to give them to you rather than bury them. Regardless of the difficult relationship you had with your father, he was your father and you should have something from him. And you should wear it to honor him."

It was said without any emotion or passion, just another rule of society to be passed on. Another meaningless tradition for Joff to stuff into his head and it pissed him off. "Oh, great. Thanks, Grandfather." As a twisted smile started to creep across his face, Joff put all six large rings on.

"Oh Sansa, would you come here a moment? I want your help to see something better." Joff's words were slurred but he was casual in his request. "Of course. Sure." Sansa hauled herself to her feet after taking another large sip of her drink. She walked slowly and without very good balance over to Joff. "What can I help-" Joff's bejeweled backhand sent Sansa skidding across the floor. A trail of spit and blood began where she landed.

"Hey, look up, I want to see your face." A large cut on her right cheek and a split lip. A large red bruise growing on her cheekbone with an indent of a stag. Cersei gasped and sat up while Tommen curled into a ball. "Joff! What have you done? How am I to hide that from the pubic, from her family? With  your father's rings nonetheless."

Tywin stared as Joff laughed cruelly. "I figured that since father only wore all his rings when he might want to hit someone, I wanted to see if it felt as good for me as it seemed to for him. I agree with the fat fuck, it does feel very good. I also agree with his assessment on hitting wives. It is never good to hit a wife in the face. That left more damage than I thought it would. Whoops."

Tyrion was trying to help Sansa to her feet then ran to get her ice, after giving Joff a look of disgust. He came back and helped the girl to lay on the couch with the ice on her face as he called for Qyburn again. At this rate by the time the man showed, there could be a houseful of patients.

"And you think this is funny? To deliberately ruin your image and hers with this behavior? Also, you need Sansa as your partner, you should attempt to treat her as one. Even behind closed doors, boy. Do not act so impulsively again, young man. Now the women will both have to wear veils tomorrow. You need to be a grown up, the man of this house now, Joff. Not a little boy pulling wings off flies. Grow up and start being part of the solutions, not the problems. If you ever hope to rise as high as me, you best pull your damned depraved head straight. Hear me?" Tywin stared down at Joff, who finished another drink.

"Yeah, I hear you. Know what you should hear? Huh? My father was a fat, raging abusive drunk but only the last few years. He had half the North in the palm of his hand then he married YOUR daughter. I can vaguely remember him as this buff fucking handsome asshole. Before he lost everything to you. You forced him to betray his own friends, his own family then you once you wring every last thing and suck his soul dry you just leave it to your daughter to poison or throw him down the stairs. So fuck your family loyalty, it kills just as fast as betrayal, maybe quicker." 

Tywin took a step closer, his eyes were glaciers. Tyrion and Cersei froze and Sansa quickly tried to stand up and grab Joff's hand. "He didn't mean that, Mr. Lannister. Please, we are very drunk, Joff will apologize for it in the morning. I'm sure he won't even remember it. I will take Joff to his room then go to my own. Please forgive our drunkness, we are shameful and sorry for it."

Tywin nodded grimly. "You will go to bed, Joff, right now. We shall speak more tomorrow." Sansa started to pull Joff with her but he jerked back. "I'm not tired!" He yelled stubbornly at his grandfather and Sansa wanted to kill him herself for his stupidity. Going to his side, making sure that her bleeding cheek was in full view, Sansa tried a new tact. "Please..Joff..I drank and smoked a lot and I want to...spend some time as we get ready for bed."

Joff turned to look at her and grinned at the flinch she made when he stroked her bruise. "Sure..but I'm not going to bed because I am tired." Tywin nodded then said, "Before you head upstairs, I have these sleeping pills that will help you sleep, Joff. Here. Take them while I can see you do it." Joff spun around to growl, "I am not tired!"

Swallowing hard, Sansa went forward and grabbed the pills and carried them back, after Tyrion handed her his drink. "Please, Joff, just swallow them and we'll go hang out in bed until it kicks in." She tried to flirt and put them into his mouth. As Joff felt her fingers slip the pills into his mouth, he tried to pull away. Sansa grabbed his face and turned him to look at her then she whispered to him sweetly.

"There have been enough deaths tonight. Please, let it go. Swallow the pills and let's go upstairs. I will tuck you in however you want me to, alright?" Joff narrowed his eyes and gave her a cruel smile. He swallowed then dragged her towards the staircase. "Fine, you won this one but until I fall asleep, I'm going to fuck you. There is really no need to wait for the wedding, after all."

Sansa sighed and muttered, "Actually I just saved you from Tywin Lannister's wrath but don't bother seeing it that way. Your way flatters your ego much more."  Joff barely made it into his room before commanding her to take her clothes off. When he felt she wasn't fast enough, he tore them off her then took his own off. He shoved her into the bed and landed on her. Sansa regretted her offer of making out or even sex now that Joff was actually doing it.

Every action he made was designed to hurt her and inflame him. He pinched and twisted her nipples and bit them until they were raw. In fact he bit her everywhere, it made her shriek a bit and jump. It was her own fault, Joff hissed drunkenly, she lays there like a lump otherwise. "I'm not meat, Joff! Stop biting me!" Luckily for her, Joff passed out a few moments later. She tossed him off and went to take a shower.

Then Cersei was there with Qyburn to stitch her cheek. It was another half hour before she could shower but the bite marks, bruises and her new stitches stayed. Cersei had given her painkillers and an ice pack to stay on her face while she slept to reduce swelling.  Suddenly, as Sansa lay there she remembered why it was important for her swelling to go down. Because there were deaths.

One of them was Bran, a little brother that she adored as a child. He was so inquisitive and cute, Sansa took him everywhere. Then they both grew older and grew apart. Now there will never be some years later reunion where they suddenly become close, their new families melding. Sansa soundlessly cried herself to sleep.

Chapter Text

Sandor stood in the doorway for a moment, worry clear on his face. Slowly, painfully slow, Gregor turned to stare at his brother. "Did I give an order for you leave?" The growl was so low and threatening, Arya shuddered. "Yes. Just worried for the little girl." Sandor managed to get out even as he began to shut the door.

Gregor's hand came so fast and hard all Arya could think was it felt like being struck with a side of frozen beef. Just a slap really, no different than her mother does so why is she on the floor? She struggled to remember to stand but it was already too late. For a moment Arya thought he had ripped her straight through but no. Somehow he had his WHOLE FUCKING HAND around her waist and was lifting her by it! In panic, she tried to kick and flail but then she was sailing through the air. In a bizarre calmness she thought, Oh, I'm heading into the wall, I'm going to die.

Slamming into a stack of mats didn't stop the scream of pain, to Arya she might as well have slammed into a tree. Falling boneless to a mat left on the floor, Arya tried to remember how to breathe. She could barely twitch and awful whooping but so weak breaths were all she could manage. Gregor's huge boot was here now and Arya watched it, fascinated. It seemed she had time to see the treads and the dirt within them. She thought he would stomp through her chest, crushing her heart into a smear.

The foot hurt indeed and the breathing was over. She missed it, meager as it was. Gregor was grinning down at her in a very unpleasant way. "Now, do I have your complete attention?" It made her see stars but she managed to nod her head. "Good." He removed his weight off her chest enough for her to breathe weakly again. "Tywin Lannister is unsure of your loyalty to us. He also worries that my brother might have your sympathies. That if you went rouge, tried to get some revenge for your family, my brother would try to help or at least shield you. Do you think this reflects well upon me?"

"I'm loyal.." She managed to gasp out. Gregor leaned down and breathing became a distant memory. "Are you? Will you be loyal if Tywin has your father shot in the head? If Cersei decides to get revenge for her daughter and kills your mother with her fucking steel stiletto heels? What if Ramsay Bolton is told to stab your brother in the heart? Or if Joff loses his temper and breaks your pretty sister's neck? Huh? Can I rely on you to do your fucking job and follow orders? You are too young, too fucking little for all of this, aren't you? Go on, give up, please tell me you give up."

Suddenly Arya was back in the air and here is the wall, it hurt to be pressed against it. A whine burst out of her and Gregor chuckled. "There is no going home, sweetheart. Tywin already let me know, if you don't work are mine to do with as I want. Can you imagine the options? I could make sure you never run simply by smashing your legs and feet. I wonder what it would be like to always have to pull yourself along by your hands? It would be so amusing. At least for awhile. Frankly, I don't think you'd last very long as my pet. Most of my pets don't live beyond a few months at best."

"Loyal. I'm loyal and I'm learning to be stronger. You see me train, I have given up everything to be one of your company. I didn't even try to help my friends! I don't give a fuck about any of my family!" Gregor snarled and the fist that was holding her up by her collar twisted tightly. "I believed you until you mentioned your family. Try for the truth this time. Or should I just get to fucking you and seeing if you survive it?" Arya cried out and blurted, "I care about Sansa! I would feel bad for Rickon and Jon but I wouldn't intervene! I don't give a fuck about my parents or Robb!" Gregor loosened his grip enough for her to breathe more.

"That sounds more like honesty. Now, what if Sansa dies? If Joff kills her in front of you? And you have no right to intervene? What are you going to do?" Gregor's face was in hers, his eyes glaring, forcing her to see the image and play it out in her head. And it hurt, Arya felt ripped, torn, destroyed and oh she loathed herself. Defeated, she let herself go limp and whispered, "I will not try to save her. I won't avenge her. I will obey whatever orders I have been given." Arya couldn't help the tears that blurred Gregor's terrifying face but he didn't seem to mind them. It was almost as if they confirmed to him that she was telling the truth.

"As of tonight, you and my brother are transferred. Tywin has decided to bring you and Sandor into his home to live and work. He likes to keep his enemies and hostages very close. It is on you to show him that you are not either. That you are a loyal member of my company. Go tell Sandor that you both best get your shit moved over now. Use the servants entrance, someone will show you to your new rooms. Both of you better be out front at six in the morning, fresh and ready to go. We are going to have some exercise to sweat the stupid out of all of you!" Gregor dropped her onto the mat and walked away to his desk already having dismissed her from his mind.

He watched from the corner of his eye while the girl tried to stagger to her feet. Arya managed to wobble towards the door and Gregor snorted in amusement. Then he took the syringe from his pocket and threw it into the desk trash. Pulling out his phone he set up the tracker system and grinned.  Stupid girl didn't even notice Gregor injected the tiny chip into her side.  Arya might think she is loyal, but this will give him and Tywin certainty of it.

She almost escaped when he grumbled again, making her freeze. "If you are working with me, if you are near Tywin, you'll also be closest to the worst of betrayals. There may be a day when you have to kill a Northerner, a friend, family. In fact, it will happen. This is going to be a bloodbath soon. I would prepare yourself to have to see the faces of those who call you a traitor as they die from your own knife or bullet. Now get out."

Sandor watched the girl slowly make her way towards him. She looked a lot better than he expected her to. It was her face that made him wince. Eyes like black holes, face the color of parchment and the silent tears of self loathing. "He made you drown your kittens, didn't he?" Arya nodded and told him of their move in a slowly deadening voice.

Chapter Text

This isn't happening. This cannot be happening. I am not sobbing, screaming, begging, snot running down my nose. It isn't real, its a nightmare. The pain was terrible, how can this produce pain so terrible? His own father never caused so much agony or humiliation. The sounds were terrible, the continual crack, his own desperate sickening pleas and howls, the worst was the laughter. Ramsay, his boys, Locke, all watching it, laughing at him. In front of Theon. Who was just giving him a pitying, empathizing look. It was intolerable. This just not happening.

They had only returned to the Bolton Estate. Ramsay had no choice but to bring Robb since they were still handcuffed together. Roose had met them all on the lawn in front of the house. The sodium arc lights illuminated everything as if it were day. It seemed as if the rest of the world was dark and this was all that was left. Roose was assured of Robb's participation before he unlocked the cuffs. But he didn't allow Robb to leave, nor did he dismiss anyone. 

Glaring at Robb and Ramsay, Roose spoke. "Everything that transpired at that bar is your fault. The two of you are still stuck in your little war, since you were small boys. It was mildly amusing when you were children but now it is costing lives. It might cost us a lot more. I won't have it, you will learn to be partners together. Think of it as a forced marriage boys. You may hate each other in private all you wish, but so help me gods, you will NEVER allow your personal war to infect our work ever again. Now, since you both wanted to act like boys, you may get punished like it."

Robb was shocked when Roose grabbed his hair and dragged him fast to a stone bench. He tried to pull back and received a hard punch to his kidney. It was enough to allow the loathsome man to pull Robb's pants down and force him over his lap. When Robb recovered enough to struggle, Roose spoke chillingly soft. "If you fight this punishment, I will flay your buttock instead. I will tie you down upon this lawn and remove half the skin on your buttock. Do you think its a false threat?" Robb frozen and gritted his teeth. "My father.." That was when the first strike came.

Robb had gasped, instantly in pain. Roose was not using his hand or a belt, he was using a wooden paddle that had not only small holes but a few extra wooden dulled spikes for extra impact. Roose was timed and brutal as he silently paddled Robb until his ass was purple with small bloody dots all over. Shoving Robb off his lap onto the ground, Roose curled his finger at his son. "Ramsay. Do not make me come get you."

The sadistic joy that was on Ramsay's face suddenly was wiped off. His eyes went down and he flushed red as he went forward. During his paddling, Ramsay almost screamed as loud as Robb did near the end of it. His ass was just as destroyed. The only difference was there was no laughter from the other boys now. Just an uncomfortable silence. After Roose finished with Ramsay, he made them all watch while the boys received the same punishment by Locke. The only untouched was Reek but he knew that as soon as Ramsay had him alone that would change.

An hour later Robb was at home, vomiting and sobbing into his toilet. Ramsay was indeed spanking Reek as hard with his own paddle while accusing him of setting Robb off in the first place. And Damon was looking at the pictures that Raff has sent him on his cell phone. Jeyne with her mouth sewn shut with wire, bruised, bloody and covered in jizz. That was the most conservative pic out of the bunch. He was the only one who didn't cry during the brutal paddling, but in the dark he cried now, clutching his phone.

Roose went to his study and paced with his hands behind his back. After a little while his phone rang and he answered it. "Yes, I will meet you and Walder for lunch but if Ned finds out...I hear you but I...fine. Goodnight." He threw his phone down in disgust and in a small fit of temper, Roose swore. Taking a few deep breaths, Roose gave a small nod as if to confirm his decision and he turned off the light in the study.

He needed to sleep. The next few days maybe too hectic for sleep, best to get some now. And best not to think of what he was thinking of doing. His own son might declare him a traitor, his own son might try and overthrow him for his next few steps. Roose felt a little bad at the thought of having to kill Ramsay to stay alive. Maybe it won't come to that and Roose fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Hotpie was pulled from what was his new sleeping quarters. His head whacked against the washing machine as Poliver yanked harder on his leg then delivered a punch into his thigh. "Get the fuck up! What did I tell you, huh? You be up before me! You have the fucking coffee ready every day on time! I don't give a fuck if you have no timer, find one! Next time, I'll strap you with my belt while you squeal naked crawling through the house! You hear me, Piggy?" "Yes, Yes, I hear you! I'm sorry!"

"You make sure there is breakfast and coffee when I return, you hear me? And you best have my laundry sorted and my bed made before I get back too." Poliver grumbled as he tried to chug coffee that Dusten had made while he dragged his ass to the door. Timidly, Hotpie asked, "What time will you be back so your food is hot and ready?" He dodged as the hot mug of coffee came crashing at him.

Gregor stood on his porch, sipping his espresso. He was wearing a very comfortable jogging suit that he ordered from a tailor in Dorne. This very expensive talented man makes all of his clothing now. The first of his naughty children were staggering across the green expanse. Sandor and Arya must have spent most of the night moving into their new rooms.

Arya looked like someone murdered her favorite pet or lover and this made Gregor inhale deeply in satisfaction. Of course she will be loyal and kept in line. Gregor did not make a mistake, of course not. He will spend some time training her himself if need be. Because if he was wrong, that meant Tywin was wrong. That was not possible of course.

A few moments later the Barracks began to leak hungover and well fucked boys. "I am glad to see you are all on time. I am also glad to see that you boys took my advice. Did you have a good time? Raff, is she still alive or did you let them all fuck her to death?" Gregor grumbled as they all fell into a line before him.

Raff dared not smile, but he nodded slightly. "Yes Sir. She is still alive. I plan to keep her that way. She won't ever be a behavior problem, Sir." Gregor stuck his face in Raff's. "That is excellent to hear. I am very happy for you, Raff. I had spent all fucking year staying awake at night wondering what the fuck to give you for your birthday!"

Raff turned red and wisely shut up. Gregor walked down the line heading for Polivar. "Did you have a good night? I heard you crashed a party and got to really let loose. Got that adrenaline out after almost losing your fucking pecker, right? Was it good? And what the fuck did I see going past the window this morning? What the fuck is that fat thing doing in the barracks? What is it? Did you forget to ask me if you could have a pet? Or did you ask me and I was too busy jerking off to hear you? Huh? WHO THE FUCK IS HE?"

Polivar tried to resist, he knows better but blurted out, "He isn't anyone! I just kept him so-" The large hand had hold of his groin and was squeezing, causing him to whimper and cry helplessly. "I don't give a fuck! He runs or bothers Tywin and you kill him! What the fuck were you thinking last night? Huh? Who the fuck are you to deliver MY LESSONS to anyone? You ever do that again, I'll rip your cock off myself!"

Gregor snarled and spit his words into Polivar's face along with the smell of eggs, coffee, a generous helping of spittle. "Remember your fucking place or I'll put you so far below it, your job will be carrying Cersei's fucking purse at the mall." Gregor shoved Polivar back after hearing the muttered apology.

He turned to glare at Tickler and Dusten. You two have a good time, huh? Really get that last bit of hell-raising out? I really fucking hope so, I hope it is worth it. Just couldn't resist a good old fashioned fight could you? I understand it, boys, I really do. What I don't understand is why you went where I FUCKING TOLD YOU NOT TO GO?"

One meaty hand landed on Dusten's shoulder and one on Tickler's. Gregor began to slowly squeeze as he spoke. "I'm hurt, boys. I'm shattered inside. I thought we had an understanding of how things worked. I thought you could obey my orders and stay out of trouble with the boys we may have to slaughter soon. Did you just have to play with your food, was it something like that? It's my fault. I care so much about you that I just didn't enforce my rules enough. I guess its time to take the velvet gloves off, take off your underoos and teach you to be real big boys with BIG BOY PANTS THAT CAN OBEY FUCKING ORDERS!"

Tickler and Dusten were shrinking down, whining in agony as Gregor was on the verge of dislocating their shoulders. Whether due to pain or smarts, both stayed very silent. He released them and strolled over to Arya and Sandor.

"Well, look the main cast of Dumb and Dumber Cunts have decided to join us this morning. Because even though they might not live in the barracks, they are MY men, the same as all of you. And the same as all of you, they fucked up last night. So here we are. My own brother couldn't keep track of his own charge, nor the girl he mentors. Then he drove Polivar to a bloodbath and left not just with Polivar and Arya but a fucking pet too! You sat there and watched him kill those boys. You lost your charges, found them and deserted them at a battle! What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?"

Sandor grunted when Gregor grabbed his long hair and yanked his head back. He knew how much Sandor hated being stared at into his bare face. All the hair was pulled away, revealing the gruesome pink and white twisted skin and tissue. "You BEGGED me for a chance, didn't you? Huh? I stuck my neck out, my reputation out for you. This is how you repay it? By fucking up, ignoring protocol and orders? By trying hiding your protege's disobedience? Let it happen one more time and I'll start to doubt your loyalty to me, Sandor. Hear me, little brother?" Sandor was red and blinking rapidly. "Yes. I'm loyal, Gregor."

Shoving his brother away, Gregor loomed over Arya. "You little shit. A recruit that DARES to disobey so blatantly? You have nearly killed yourself to try and become one of us then you almost threw it all away over a fucking pot party? Were you BORED on your one night off? You couldn't just rest, go for a fucking walk, meditate, masturbate, watch a fucking show on your television? Your dead friends are on  you as much as on Polivar and Sandor. So the three of you will have an extra surprise for our little session today."

He gave them all a mean grin then pulled a small black silk box out. Tickler knew what it was as the box flipped open and he turned gray.

"Drop trou!" Gregor roared and in pure misery, they all lowered their pants and underwear. Arya was nearly purple with shame but no one was looking at her. At least not after Gregor ordered them to each grab their ankles. Gregor walked behind all the bared asses and spoke.

"You all had so much fun last night that I was concerned about your energy level this morning. I want each of you to be at your best, show me how you are all in good shape. So this is an incentive. Tickler is already crying and that should tell you something special is coming. I am about to insert ginger root into your asses. It is going to really give you the need to get moving. Except for Polivar, Sandor and Arya. They are getting special ginger roots, dipped in my favorite rectal infusion sauce. I expect an amazing work out from you three."

The boys with ginger root stuffed into their tight assholes were experiencing hell. The itch was unreachable and maddening. It made them move all right in hopes of somehow easing their torment. Instead the movements only increased the terrible itch inside of them.

For the three with the dipped ginger root, they were beyond hell. The itching and the burning seemed to grow stronger than each other in waves. They did sit ups, they did jumping jacks, they jogged, they leaped and ran through an obstacle course then they got back into the grass to do push ups. Polivar lost control first by trying to scoot his ass in the grass, desperate for some relief. Gregor shocked him with a cattle prod. 

Before they were done, Gregor has given everyone at least one shock. For not keeping up, for laying down and sobbing, for daring to beg him to offer mercy. Finally, he let them collapse, squirming into the grass, covered in sweat, panting, their aching muscles twitching.

"Now...there will be new orders for all during this time. Arya and Sandor will be working and lodging with Tywin and Tyrion Lannister. Dusten, you will be Cersei's new shadow. Tickler, you shall be watching Joff and Sansa. Raff, you shall watch Tommen and stay away from the women, hear me? Polivar, you shall patrol both homes as well as patrol the church and cemetery the family shall be at. No one has questions. Now go and pull yourselves together. You all look like pathetic worms squirming about. Good luck getting rid of your itches, children."

In desperation and humiliation Sandor and Arya ran for the hose, yanking their pants down. All of them found themselves huddled in desperation. Using their fingers to dig the ginger root out and the hose to recieve relief. It was only after they sighed and started to walk away, that the sensations began again. As they would do all day long.  

Chapter Text

Cersei has barely finished her mimosa when the terrible news came via Varys on the phone. She groaned and put her head down, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "May I refresh your drink for you?" Nodding, Cersei raised her head and stared dully at Sansa. "Do you know why I find you tolerable, dear? Why I don't mind you marrying my son? Because of the Tyrells. Now..had I met you as Joff's fiance before I met Margeary fucking Tyrell, I would have despised you."

Sansa sat back down and gave her usual tiny smile. "Well, than I am glad you met me after. Are these Tyrell's coming to the services?" Cersei took a large swallow of her drink before she replied.

"Oh yes, Olenna couldn't wait to hurry here to share my fucking tragedy. The Tyrells share status, trade and business with our family. So my father had originally betrothed Joff to that fucking perfect little snake, Margeary Tyrell. They are a fucking team of vipers, that family. Wait until you meet them, dear. Olenna is the matriarch and she is dried up old biddy that thinks she is clever. Her grandchildren, the fucking wonder twins, they would have given Anne Boleyn a run for her money for court fuckery. I think Olenna's grandchildren are fucking vampires. They certainly seem to suck the life out of anyone they come in contact with. And here is the sickening part, Loras married Renly, Robert's brother, he only lived long enough for the insurance policies to kick in. A fucking lobbyist for all sorts of green, hippie shit that doesn't matter but still Robert's little brother. Margeary, almost married my son and the thought still makes me sick!"

Joff snorted and hissed, "Can you lower your fucking voice, mother? I have a fucking hangover, you know how those are, don't you? Now please give me one of your percs you hide in your damned purse and lower your voice." His reddened eyes glared at his over-dramatic mother. Cersei gave Joff a look of stone.

"How do you know what is in my purse? You have no right to go through my personal effects. I'm still alive, remember? You are living in my house and you will show me respect or leave it all behind. I will NOT be treated this way by if you were HIM. Take off his damned rings!" Joff slowly began to stand up and lean over the table. Tommen shrank down into the seat, nearly curled into a ball. Sansa sensed by his focused rage that if she dared to interfere, he would hurt her physically, perhaps badly.

Sansa knew when not to push a man and she kept her mouth shut. Eyes wide, watching for the very second that the shark was no longer searching for the meal. So she can dive in and save a woman she despises, worships, hates and needs. Joff was in his mother's face and Cersei was shocked beyond belief. How fucking DARE he? "For now on, YOU will show ME respect, mother. I am the man of the house now and you are going to listen to MY orders. Now. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Bitch."

Each word of the last sentence was spit into her face and Cersei's hand cracked against Joff's face. The look on his face was chilling and Cersei sucked in her breath, he looked as if he would kill her. Sansa thought so too and  knew she had no choice but to intervene.

They all moved at the same moment. Cersei jumped out of her hair and Joff tossed the table out of his way to reach her. Tommen crawled into a corner and Sansa threw herself on the ground at Joff's side. Like a cheesy heroine novel from those books she used to love reading, Sansa grabbed onto Joff's leg just as he grabbed his mother's throat.

"Please! Joff, please, we cannot have anymore deaths so soon! It would be very suspicious. She didn't mean it! Look at her tears, her face, Joff, she loves you and she is sorry! Please...she is afraid, she is your mother and never meant to hurt you. She understands to obey you now, she does, just look at her! Please, Joff!" Panting, staring at his mother, Joff growled into his mother's face, "If you EVER hit me again, I'll personally cut off your fucking hand. You are very lucky that my fiance is Sansa because Margeary would have cheered me on as I strangled you."

Sansa sagged down and when Joff released his mother's throat and stormed out of the room. Cersei's coughed and sat on the floor while Sansa knelt and Tommen cowered. "The king is dead, long live the king." Cersei rasped out bitterly. With a small emotionless laugh Sansa replied, "We have to hide my face and your neck. The least your husband could have done was teach his son how to abuse a woman in ways that won't show. My father could give him lessons."

"Bring me more coffee." Bristling silently, Arya brought Tywin more coffee and ignored the aching in her body and ass. They had to shower and begin work right after Gregor's punishment. Not everyone, however, no it seemed that Raff has time off and he grinned cheerfully at Arya as he walked away. "I hope your ass itches like crazy every-time you try and fuck your new pet." She had managed to sweetly say to him before Sandor had dragged her away.

This was insulting. So far her job has consisted of following silently watching for danger. Now she was pouring coffee and fetching items while Sandor stood against a wall like a damned statue. However demeaning it was, Arya kept following orders without hesitation. Her face was kept bland, her eyes stayed down as she served.

"I have a lunch date that you will both accompany myself and Gregor on. I expect silence and complete loyal obedience, is that understood?" Arya and Sandor nodded and said, "Yes Sir!" at the same time. Tywin gave a slight look of pain at it and then he sat at the desk. He began to type again and they both became part of the wallpaper.

Raff woke the girl by running his baton along the bars of the cage making a hellish clatter. With a muffled scream, the girl scrambled and crouched very low to the ground as far from where Raff was. Laughing, he began to unlatch the cage and he beckoned to her, like a dog. He tapped the baton against his leg. "Here, Jeyne."

With a whimper of terror, Jeyne began to inch forward, her stomach and chest dragging on the ground. She hesitated at the opening of the cage. "Good girl. You have permission to come out."

He knelt down in front of the cowering girl and yanked her face up with his hand on her small chin. Raff showed her his wire cutters. "Now. Have you learned not to speak without permission?" Jeyne whimpered and nodded timidly. Her eyes stared downwards and Raff smiled. "Look at me, sweetheart. Don't you like your Master? Aren't I pretty enough for you?" Jeyne's eyes flew up and it he smiled at the sight of those terrified doe eyes. "You are prettier this way, you know. Fear, submission and pain suit you. I'm going to take your wire out and you will stay very still and be grateful for it."

Gregor entered the Barracks and stared at HotPie. "What the fuck are you wearing, boy?" Hotpie scrambled to his feet from where he was scrubbing the cabinets. "Sorry, Sir. I..this is what Polivar gave me to wear." Gregor wrinkled his nose, narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. "You stink like a pig. A real one. You aren't a REAL pig, right? Go fucking shower. Tell Polivar I said you are allowed to shower once a day and you must wear shorts and a PLAIN shirt. You can remind him that I said Tywin might stop by and how would that look? And you belong to Polivar, correct? He spared your life and took it, claimed you for service, correct?"

Swallowing hard, cringing into the wall, HotPie nodded. "Yes Sir."Gregor nodded and said slowly as if speaking to an idiot, "Then he owns you. You will be respectful and call him Master, not Polivar. Understand me?" "Yes Sir. I will call him Master. I will go shower. I will tell him all you said, Sir."

Snorting with disgust, Gregor moved away and went to find Raff. He gave one knock then pushed the door open. Raff had the girl in his lap, giving her sips of water. Her lips and surrounding skin were raw, red and covered in tiny gashes, some bleeding. The rest of her looked just as wrecked and she looked as if she would smell as bad as that boy did.

"I shall have Qyburn come look at her. That boy down there must take on everyone's chores. So this girl can take care of your chores, both up here and the common room chores that are yours. No sense having idle hands when her only job would be on her back. And both that boy and this one must shower and wear appropriate clothes to not insult Tywin. Shorts and a shirt will suffice. Finish up with caring for the girl, I want your two deliveries picked up today." Raff nodded and gave a grin that made Jeyne flinch and whimper softly.

Chapter Text

The Lannisters had Varys arrange everything and it was done the Southern way. Flamboyant and fast. In the South, in the heat, things don't last as long. No one wants to spend long hours cooped in a church then stand in the heat sweating into expensive hated clothing. At least ten folks will drop of heat stroke before a body is buried if it takes too long. So within a day and a half, there was a funeral service and burial. A huge coffin for Robert and a small white coffin for Myrcella. It was gruesome to see and yet media was all too happy to photo it while cringing.

Cersei and Sansa wore black hats with with long lace veils and kept their heads down as if with grief. Cersei wore a lovely black choker on her neck and Sansa had made sure her sleeves were long and the black dress touched her ankles. Every piece of her that Joff had pinched or bitten or bruised. After she had saved Cersei, Sansa didn't think Joff would take out that anger on her. Oh but he did. Joff waited all day, until it was nearly bedtime. She was tired after helping Cersei plan on how to hide their injuries and how to help Cersei evade the Tyrells.

Entering her room, Sansa never even saw Joff until it was too late. He shoved her then locked her door. "Do you think you are fucking cute? You beg for my mother's life then instead of thanking me properly, you spend all fucking day with her? Planning and plotting just like her and your cunt of a mother? Do you plan to be like them? Because let me show you how I'll treat you just like I know they are treated. In fact, I might actually be a little worse." Sansa backed away and scrambled to her feet, trying to keep her distance. "I'm sorry, you are right. I was ungrateful. Please, I'll apologize, I'll...get in my bed for you right now. Please...let me beg your forgiveness properly."

Shaking his head with a little laugh, Joff gave her a cute little wrinkle of his nose. "That sounds so nice. And exactly what my mother would say. Try again, it's amusing. Go on." He started to unbuckle his belt then slowly began pulling it off to wrap around his hand. Sansa gasped and stood straight up to look pleadingly into Joff's eyes. "Please, I am truly sorry and I will accept my punishment, but please, not this way. I have to appear in public, Joff. I can't hide anymore injuries! Degrade and humiliate me, rape me or I'll blow you if you want but just don't beat me anymore. At least just not until the services are all done with. I am begging you."

"Aaaannd there was your mother. You even acted like her, which I fucking despise. If I ever hear or see you act like your ice cunt mother again, I'll let every man in the Barracks fuck you. I don't want you acting like either of them, Sansa. If I hear or see you acting like my bitch mother again, I'll let Gregor himself fuck you. Look at my eyes, I'm not lying. Look how hard I get just from the mere fucking thought of watching your misery and pain as you got gang-banged. Of how you will look when Gregor dislocates or fractures half of your body raping you. Do you believe me, Sansa?" Joff was swinging the belt as he leisurely paced as he spoke. Sansa's voice was so careful, it was small dainty feet stepping on jagged glass, trying to not slip on the blood.

"I believe you, Joff. I won't act like them anymore. I'm scared, I'm fucking terrified of you right now. Okay..this is all honest plain me. I can't even think of an amusing quip to fend you off with. I just meant to help you and your mother, your family, that was all. I'm sorry I didn't apologize, I really am. It won't happen again. I swear I'm loyal to you, I will do as you wish, Joff, I am on your side."

Sansa shook and felt utterly naked before him even though she wore a nightgown and robe. "That is better. I enjoy your amusing quips and your little challenges will still be welcome. But behind closed doors or in public, you will never overrule me, you will never be anything but what I want you to be. You will show me gratitude for anything I offer you whether it's correction or reward. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, yes, I hear you." Sansa felt tears on her face and thought, oh, this was only the start. If she breaks already she won't survive this marriage. Bend, don't break, bend, she thought to herself. Joff cracked the belt into his hand and she jumped which made him give a nasty giggle.

"Good. I am glad that is all cleared up now. Let's move on to your punishment for not being grateful and thankful earlier. For closeting yourself away all day, ignoring my texts to be with my mother without my permission. For now on you'll give me a full schedule of everywhere you wish to go and I'll approve it or not. Get naked then I want you to grab the bed post, hug it. If you argue, if you do anything but what I just told you to do, I'm going to use a cane instead."

Sansa let out a small sob but she nodded. Removing her robe and nightgown, she obeyed. He beat her from her back downward to her calves. Then he made her turn around and strapped her breasts, arms, stomach and legs before allowing Sansa to lay in his bed. As she sobbed and begged forgiveness, Joff began to pinch, slap and bite her all over before forcing himself into her tormented body. She cried out which only made Joff go harder. He punched her arm then yanked her hair. "If you aren't screaming, I must not be keeping your attention."

Sansa screamed as Joff bit hard enough to fill his mouth with blood, leaving a permanent scar upon her left breast. "Please, please, Joff, I'm not resisting, please stop hurting me! Please, stop!" Her screams made Joff give four more thrusts that Sansa knew tore her before he whined and released himself into her.

He lay there on top of her until he caught his breath then stood up and calmly dressed. Sansa didn't dare move or speak. "Things are going to change around here." Joff said and Sansa replied, "Yes, Joff." Nodding, he smirked at her damaged body and asked, "I assume I'll have no need to call the men for a treat anytime soon? Or Gregor?"

She tried to speak again but could only manage to shake her head and sob. "Do you remember I told you to be thankful and grateful for everything? Even punishments?" Joff asked and Sansa gasped. "Yes! Yes, sorry! I am grateful for your discipline and...for your attention, Joff. Thank you for taking the time to instruct me."

Smirking in triumph, Joff left the room, tossing over his shoulder, "I have every confidence that you really will be a good wife for me, Sansa." Shoving her head into the pillow, Sansa screamed her rage, pain and humiliation.

Now she stood in a receiving line next to Cersie and Joff, accepting meaningless words. Sansa treated her own family the same as everyone else. This earned her a small reward from Joff. He took his hand off the worst of the bruising lines from his belt on her back. She managed to whisper her thanks while never missing a beat.

Joff smiled and actually treated the next few folks nicely. Both Cersei and Sansa were hurting physically and emotionally. And this made it easy for them to simply let Joff do as he wishes, to not dare intervene. What would he do for it, would he even injure them in public? Would he kill his own mother or fiance?

The Tyrells could almost sense the weakening and they swept into the funeral home as if they could all hear the same theme song with them. Joff leaned closer to Sansa and whispered, "You will not rescue my mother with whatever plans she has created with you." Sansa instantly looked at those cruel eyes and smiled. "Yes, Joff. I only wish to do what you ask of me."

She quickly saw how close to her mother's words that sounded and continued. "Sorry, Mr.Manderly was leaning too close to me. Forgive me for sounding stiff like that. I will not rescue your mother. I only want to be with you, please. Until I can learn to be everything you wish me to be, I need your guidance. I want to please you, Joff."

Cat had come back around, weaving her way behind the chairs, hoping to have a word with her rather subdued daughter. She heard every word of their exchange. The words and that tone wasn't at all like her strong daughter. The shoulders were slightly pinched inward in fear and pain, the entire look was one Cat knew well. It was the look of a wife well beaten by her husband, trying to hide it. What worried Cat the most was how it was Sansa's entire self covered in black. What the hell has Joff done to her? And this was only as her fiance? What would happen once they married?

Even more worrisome was how Cersie was also covering herself up. The woman had never worn a choker before, Cersei told Cat she found them tacky. And why both women seem to be letting Joff act and speak however rudely he wishes to whomever he wishes? Cersei was not someone who allowed such things.

Cat was done, she was tired and sick with grief mixed with bitter hatred. That was all she could take. This wedding was off one way or another. She will talk to Ned about it tonight, see if there is anything to be done. Once she explains about how abused their daughter is, he will surely agree. It makes Cat wonder what is happening with Arya.

Before Cat could look for her daughter, she saw the Tyrells come in and in spite of herself, she had to watch for a moment.

Chapter Text

Sandor and Arya stood against the wall in the tiny restaurant. In front of them were Gregor and Tywin. Across from them was Roose Bolton who's own son was pressed deeply into his wall as if half asleep. His hair certainly looked as if he had been dragged from his bed. Next to Roose stood Walder Frey, who's own son was dozing into his piece of the wall.

Arya had been the first to check out the place when they got there and it was empty. No staff at all, just a janitor who had turned on the heat and lights then left. At first Arya was somewhat intrigued thinking she was about to be privy to something exciting. 

Instead it was listening to decrepit old men discuss numbers and names she didn't even comprehend. Then somehow things shifted, the first clue was when Walder nodded at his son and the sleepy boy came back with a heavy set, scared girl a bit older than Arya. Oh, and a fucking Septon came in.

Now it was interesting again and no one looked tired or bored any longer. Arya exchanged fast looks with Sandor. A secret wedding? One that the Starks cannot know about? Then Petyr Baelish entered the room and Arya was really interested. He spoke quietly with the older men and no matter how much Arya strained she couldn't hear them.

Moments later as the heavyset girl was crying while her father seemed to be threatening her, Arya became more interested than ever. That was when Gregor was pulling Arya from the wall. He pushed her over to the men and she still didn't understand. Neither did Ramsay until his father pulled him forward, whispering in his ear. Ramsay's eyes widened and his father was holding him tightly by the throat to stop the cursing he knew was coming.

Petyr looked at Arya and gave a small smirk. "You don't understand yet do you, dear? Let me help. As you know, your mother was the one who allowed me to give all your records to Tywin so you can continue school and medical care. I took a few liberties and had some papers drawn up that declared her legally giving you to Tywin as your guardian. He is giving you permission on this piece of paper right here for you to legally marry."

"Wh...what?" Arya couldn't understand why Gregor was holding her shoulder, why Roose was strangling Ramsay and why was Petyr saying these things. "I'm only in high school. I can't marry. Sansa is marrying Joff, you have the wrong girl, Uncle Petyr." It was how mother always wanted her to address him and she never bothered to until now. Arya could just see Sandor and how pale and shocked he looked, how sympathetic he looked.

It started to become more real and she turned to stare at Tywin. "You said I could be one of Gregor's company!" Tywin raised his eyebrow and gave an amused smirk. "And you are one of his company. It will be a marriage in name only and one that is to stay in secret for now. The only wedding your parents will know of is of Roose Bolton to Walda Frey."

Ramsay was listening to Tywin and Roose was slowly allowing the boy to breathe again. "I do not believe in leaving things to chance, children. Solidifying pacts is best when there is a marriage involved. If something happens and we need your marriage to be more than backup paperwork, we shall inform you. But you two will be married immediately."

"Thanks for the child bride, father. Just what I never wanted." Ramsay snarled and Roose coldly backhanded him. "But you do want Reek, don't you? Because I know how much Robb would love to have him." Wiping blood off his chin, Ramsay glared at his father then walked towards Arya Stark. "Get it fucking done with." He growled but Arya wasn't having any of it. "Wait! I can't marry him! Oh my gods, he is my oldest brother's age! Sir, please! I just wanted to be-"

Tywin sighed and gave Gregor the slightest of nods. Gregor turned with the girl under his arm and left the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, he threw Arya up against the wall. Lifting her by her neck, Gregor got in her face as Arya wondered foolishly why the neck seems to be the target for everyone?

"Do you want to contest it? Go ahead, I'll take you back in to do so. Then you will have lost all usefulness to Tywin. I'll break your legs in front of them so you can clearly see that no one will care what happens to you. I wonder how long you will last as my little fuck toy? Considering how angry I'll be at your failure....I would try and make it last as painfully long as I could."

Gregor waited until he saw the horror of it all kick in, waited to see that she understood how there was no way out. "You wanted to be something else besides a Stark brood mare. Did you think any other family would treat you any differently? You will have it easier than your sister. You are allowed to stay in our company, you will continue to work and never have to see him as a husband. It is only another little secret you can forget happened unless you are told otherwise. Unless you are ready to give up and become my pet?"

Five minutes later a softly weeping Walda married the indifferent Roose. Five minutes after that Ramsay and Arya stared daggers at the man who forced them to repeat vows. Arya felt sorry for Walda, her marriage was getting consummated. She shuddered along with Ramsay as they wrote their names. Sandor and Gregor signed as witnesses.Then they all left as if nothing significant had happened as if no lives had been changed. Roose left with Walda and Locke. Tywin left with Walder and his son as well as with Sandor.

"Oh no no..." Ramsay started as Gregor pulled out his phone. "You and Arya are coming with me to a lovely little place not far from here. I think you know what needs to happen a least once, right? And Ramsay, before you think to start with the threats, your father left orders for your pet to be taken out of the house this morning. He is all dressed and ready for the services. At a room at the very motel we are going to visit. And I will give you the key to the room as soon as you do what I need you to do."

Gregor had each of them by the neck and dragging them fast to the car. He shoved Arya into the front seat of the car then Ramsay into the back. "You have become a fucking pimp, you know that right?" Ramsay snarled as he kept trying to text both his father and his pet to no avail. Arya sat numbly in the seat and stared at Gregor as he drove.

"I thought it was only on paper. In secret. marriage."  Arya was feeling less in control and smaller every second. "It is only once, girl. That way no one can dissolve it. One time and I'll take you back home to rest. You will be excused from all duties work and social obligations today."

Ramsay snorted. "Since when does a girl need a whole day to get over a little sex?" Arya turned to glare at him. "Since the girl just found out today she is married to a fucking sadist. Who keeps a human as a fuck toy and torture pet? Or how about the fact that you are known for hunting, raping and flaying women. Yeah, I might just need the day off after this. Wait..he isn't allowed to hurt me like that is he?" Leaning closer with a menacing smile, Ramsay threatened the scared girl. "Well, if you know that I am that dangerous then it's sort of stupid to antagonize me?"

Gregor's huge hand shoved Ramsay's face away and then he grumbled out, "Ramsay is going to fuck you, not fuck you up. I am going to be right outside the door. If he starts to pull out a blade or begins to injure you, just let me know. But Ramsay isn't going to be that stupid, not while his loving pet is waiting nearby. Not if he wants to keep his pet at the end of the day."

He pulled into a parking lot and led the two of them to a room in the very back of the nondescript motel. Unlocking the door and checking inside first, Gregor pulled the reluctant couple inside. He shut the door then made sure all the windows were carefully covered.

He walked over to Arya casually and put one hand on her shoulder. "Remember, I am right outside the room." "Ouch! Shit!" Arya cried out as Gregor capped the syringe. "What...what is that? Why? I was obeying!" Gregor grinned and helped the nervous girl to sit down on the edge of the bed. "Calm down. It's just something to help you relax. Just to make this a little easier for you. It is a gift from Petyr, I think he feels just a little guilty, the fucking weasel. So just take a little rest and let Ramsay do what he needs to."

Ramsay laughed and Gregor was suddenly in his face. "She might be a uppity little brat but she is one of my people. Do you hear me? You do what you need to and leave. If I find a single fucking injury on MY brat, I'm going to leave injuries on your pet and you." Gregor slammed out of the room and they heard the door lock.

Arya was feeling fuzzy and she lay back on the bed. "Okay...this isn't so bad..he should've given you some of this shit, Ramsay. How the fuck will this work? I offense but I don't look anything like your Reek. Hey, I should get points with you for that! Unlike my stupid brother, I can say the new name you gave of yours."

"Are you a virgin?" Ramsay asked as he started to remove Arya's clothes. He had to admit this was at the least, absurdly amusing. Arya snorted. "No. Been sleeping with Gendry on and off for like...a year. Always used condoms though. You are going to use a condom, right? No...lemme guess..they didn't leave us any...they SUCK!" Ramsay chuckled and put his hand over Arya's mouth.

"Shut up or the jolly fucking giant will be in here thinking I'm killing you." He finished taking her clothing off and stared at her body. Arya yawned and stretched giving Ramsay a full view. "You are sixteen, not like...thirteen or something, right?" Normally Arya would be insulted but right now it was funny. "Always got accused of looking and acting like a boy. Well, maybe that makes it easier for you?" 

Ramsay narrowed his eyes. "I really wish Gregor left me a gag for you. Maybe we should give your mouth something else to do." Arya smirked then said, "I'll bite your dick off if you stick it in my mouth. Just warning you." "Oh really? Do you like sex rough, Arya?" Ramsay asked as he crouched over her.

"Take your clothes off and come find out." Arya snickered and found that she was squirming a little. "Oh shit.." Ramsay started to laugh again. "He gave you something that works as an aphrodisiac. Yeah...let's find out if you like rough sex, something tells me you do."  They snarled and wrestled and fucked as if they were killing each other. And indeed, Arya discovered she enjoyed it quite rough.

Ramsay left right after and Gregor took Arya back to the Lannister estate. He guided her into her room and into her bed where she instantly fell asleep. When Gregor got to the services, Ramsay was shaking Tywin's hand in the reception area as if he had not seen him earlier. Roose was there and was speaking to Ned. Petyr and Varys seemed to be in a small disagreement and Gregor frowned at them until they took it somewhere more private.

Seeing the Tyrells, Gregor smiled. That young girl had ass and tits that never quit and during Joff's time with her, Gregor had fucked her at least four times. He hopes that Margeary will be available again but not tonight. No...tonight is Gregor's one monthly relaxation treat to himself. He won't cancel that even for someone like that fancy piece of ass. He leaned against the wall and watched to see if his men were with their charges and doing their correct jobs.  

Chapter Text

Cersei flung herself in front of her husband's coffin to pray into her fists. "Oh, you fat fucker! The one thing, the only thing that has ever made me miss you is here. The only courtesy you had ever done for me was get Olenna and her fucking brood out of my life. Now here they are and as usual you are useless to me." Even though the room was semi dark, a large yawning black horror was felt sucking Cersei from behind.

A voice came from behind her and Cersei fantasized about crawling into her husbands coffin with him, muttering about needing some alone time.

"Now dear this is simply pathetic of you. Not a single person here would believe you would miss that bloated sack you called husband. You should have knelt next to the little girl's coffin. That would be believable. Now I will offer true sympathies for that little child's death. It is terrible when a child dies, regardless of the circumstances. Too bad the girl didn't take after you and less like her father. She would have been a slut but at least a live one."

Cersei gracefully began to rise preparing herself to break the elderly cunt's face. Might as well go down in a big way at this point and then Cersei heard a dry voice. Defending her. She stood and turned to see Cat standing in Olenna's face. "How different your Southern customs are to us. It truly sounded as if you were actually taunting a woman made widow? That you were defaming her poor dead daughter? But I am sure I was mistaken. Was I? Or shall I have you escorted out?"

Then Cersei had to shake her head and wonder if her ears worked right. Because Cat Stark suddenly lowered her tone and the smile was gone. "Or perhaps I should kick your decrepit ass out the door myself. Not a single woman here wouldn't hesitate to help me. You are worse than Southern, then an unwanted guest. You are a woman without any conscience whatsoever. To publicly shame a woman over her dead ones coffins? To do it to a mother over her child? There is never a reason to do such a thing. Get your tacky ass out of my way."

Shocked, Cersei allowed Cat to take her arm and walk her away. "Well, Ned will be all over me in ten minutes once that reaches him. We might as well try and take cover while we can." The women found themselves nearly running like two little girls hiding from angry fathers. By the time Ned and Tywin were looking for them, they were already hiding in a small storage room. Luckily, there was no end of wine back there and two grieving mothers found their own holy absolution.

Sansa was staring at the wonder twins. They were simply gorgeous, truly stunning in looks, charming and too amazing to be real. Margeary wound herself around Joff and Sansa actually saw unease in Joff's eyes. How interesting. Two moments later Sansa had her hand being kissed by a slender god that was clearly not interested in women.

Yet Sansa sensed he will have a ton of girls chasing him anyway along with men. "Joff, we came as soon as we heard the terrible news. I am so sorry, dearest friend." Joff extracted himself as if trying to escape a deadly snake. He saw Sansa out of the corner of his eye and that seemed to help.

"Get off me, Margeary. Here, meet my fiance Sansa Stark. Loras, I'm not shaking your fucking hand." Joff moved so he was on the other side of Sansa, he grabbed onto her wrist with a bruising intensity. "Say hello, Sansa." Seeing some pain and fear in her eyes made him feel better. Margeary and Loras greeted Sansa kindly as if Joff wasn't hurting her enough for tears to be in those large eyes. "Joff, why don't you and Loras chat? I need your fiance to show me to the ladies room."

Sansa glanced at Joff but he shook his head. "Oh no...I don't need you sinking your claws into Sansa. She doesn't need any of your fucking lessons. I just got it through her head not be like our mothers. Won't have you teaching her any of your tricks." Pouting, Margeary replied, "But Joff, you like all my tricks, remember?" Joff turned red and yanked Sansa, walking away. Loras chuckled and led his sister towards the exit. "This is too boring. Let's see if any of the boys are at the Barracks, heard they have a nice new little house of their own here. They are our best bet for good drugs in a place like this."

Polivar heard the knock at the door and tilted his head. He grinned when he saw the twins and let them in. "Hey, get kicked out of the funeral? Looking to score? From who, me or Raff? If it's Gregor you are hoping for Margeary, he is busy tonight. I'm around for you though, sweetheart." Loras grinned at Polivar as his sister continued onward into the other rooms.

"No honey...someday she might take you up on it though. I want to score from you. I brought my boy with me, he is at the motel." Shoving Loras away from him, Polivar hollered. "PIGGY!" Margeary and Loras watched as a heavyset boy in short and a t shirt came nearly falling down the hall.

The boy panted to a halt in front of Polivar. "Yes Master?" Grinning, Polivar kicked at him. "You are going to have a heart attack. If you puke from running again, I'll make you lick it up. Now go upstairs and bring me down the little black safe I showed you earlier." "The one you told me to never touch, Master?" Polivar whacked Hotpie hard on his ear. "Now I am telling you to touch it and bring it to me! Now go!" He turned and saw the twins glaring at him. "What?" Shaking his head, Loras led his sister as they followed Polivar to the kitchen. A moment later the boy was back and handed over the safe.

"Get our guests beer. Are you fucking stupid, don't just stand there staring at her!" Polivar gave a kick to Hotpie's ass as the boy tried to turn and obey. The kick was just enough to trip Hotpie's feet and he went down with a thunderous sound. Polivar laughed but the twins did not. They both stood to help the boy back to his feet. Then Margeary smiled kindly upon the boy. "What is your name? I'm Margeary and that is my brother Loras." Hotpie stared and stuttered, "Uh..Piggy." Shaking her head Margeary gently tried again. "Not the name Polivar calls you by, what is your real first name?" Hotpie nearly hyperventilated and gave a terrified glance at Polivar.

"Oh for fucks sake, just tell her what your first name is." Polivar snapped as he continued to sort through his box of goodies. "Hotpie. is what my uncle and grandparents always called me. Don't know what the real birth name was, sorry." Margeary smiled. "Well, my brother and I will call you Hotpie then. Thank you for getting us beer. Take your time and don't hurt yourself, dear." Polivar rolled his eyes. "Oh my gawd...want to go butter up Raff's new pet too?" Margeary looked over at Polivar with alarm. "He brings his work home now? Isn't that a dangerous idea?"

"It would be. No, this pet was sort of a gift from Gregor to Raff. Some fucking Bolton guy's mouthy girl who kept trying to stab Raff with a fork at a bar. She got the blame for a shitload of trouble." Loras went to grab his sister's arm. "Now, sis...don't go up there. You know better than that. Look, take your beer and sit down. Aww..come on..don't. Why couldn't you have just lied and not told her the truth for once? You know how upset she gets." Polivar laughed. "The girl is in the hallway behind the stairs. I think she is scrubbing the floors. Raff is on the phone somewhere around here."

Margeary walked into the hallway and found a frail, tiny looking girl on her hands and knees, weakly washing the floor. At her approach, the girl shrunk lower and scuttled into a corner. "Don't be scared...I won't hurt you. I just want to know your name." The girl pressed her face into the wall and shook harder. Covered in wounds and clearly traumatized, the girl wouldn't speak even after Margeary introduced herself. Raff's voice came floating from another room. "She won't answer you. Her name is Jeyne. She only speaks with permission. Come here, Jeyne."

With a small whine of fear, the girl unwillingly pulled out of the corner. She crawled low to the ground past Margeary. Raff was just heading into the hallway and Jeyne crawled to his foot, groveling silently. Raff paid no attention to the girl but grinned at Margeary's upset. "Aww...don't get so sore at me, honey. Look, she is alive, I haven't even cut off any pieces. You appreciated my talents when your brother was lonely, or when your grandmother needed new staff, remember?" Margeary sniffed and headed for the kitchen. "My brother treats his boy like a pampered pet. And all Tyrell servants are cared for wonderfully. I hate how you and the others treat..your products."

"Slaves is the word you are looking for. These aren't from my stock, so stop feeling so bad for them. Polivar let this fat one live when he massacred his his buddies. Merciful, considering...and this girl was given to me. She is a bit of a feral...I could've done so much worse to her, know that. You've seen..and you've seen Polivar do worse too. Look, they even have leather collars, you know I always use prongs on my "products". So stop bitching and snort a line with me." Margeary huffed but gave in.

Chapter Text

Cersei took another swig of wine and asked, "Honestly, you don't have an Olenna counterpart floating about here in the North?" Cat grimaced as she took another swallow. "Sure we do but we call him Walder Frey. Though even he isn't that bad, to say such things out loud at a service. Walder would whisper it softly into your ear as they lowered the coffin into the ground." The women stared at each other and started to giggle.

After a moment, Cat said softly, "I envy you. For becoming a widow. Sad, that. If I could have thrown my husband from a window or shoved him down the stairs last night I would have." Cersei nodded and raised her bottle towards Cat. "May you have the same fortune then. I hope it goes better for you. My son Joff has decided to pick up where my husband left off and my father is going to rule everything anyhow."

"I saw the way my daughter was today. Joff has already started to beat her, hasn't he? I want to take my girls home, Cersei." Cat took another swig and stared balefully at the smirking blonde. "Good luck with that. It isn't in my hands at all. Joff choked me when I tried to stand up to him after his father died. He beat Sansa and there wasn't a thing I could have done for her. I will be honest that I really felt I could control him. I knew he would himself..but, not like this. And your other daughter lives in my father's house now. She works and sleeps there, mentors under Sandor and is always training under Gregor and his men. You'll be lucky to have a visit with her. I have no say over either of them and I am truly sorry about that."

Cat shook her head. "My children don't listen to me either. I suppose it is a matter of time before they try to strangle me." They drank in silence for a moment and then Cersei stared at the wall. "Why did you have to make up such a terrible lie? To have my daughter die as a drug addict? It was needlessly cruel." Sniffing, Cat lifted her chin and then nodded. "I apologize for that and for her death. I never meant to hurt your children. Why did you kill my son?" Cersei smirked and pointed the bottle at Cat. " see...I didn't ask you that question, did I? But I'll tell you anyway. He was watching my father disciplining me from my balcony. Father startled him and Bran fell."

"Do you know what the worst part is? I am sad for a child that I barely knew anymore. I remember his baby shampoo, his little pudgy fists, but that is about it. I was so busy...once I stopped nursing him I was pregnant with Rickon. I handed Bran off to his siblings and a nanny. I wanted to get in as much social work as I could before I was too big anymore. By the time I finished giving birth to Rickon,  I just wanted a break from all of them. Contrary to my husband's popular opinion I was more than a damned brood mare. I am a horrible mother." Cat finished the bottle and opened a new one.

"I get you. I can tell you all of Myrcella's old songs, her favorite little shows and oh, she wanted to be with me all the time. She was adorable and I only had her as mine until I had Tommen. Then...Robert and I were too self absorbed. I lost her to her relatives and nannies. But I did love her and she is gone...and Bran is gone. And our men will see to it that none of it ends until all our children are either on top or in the ground." Cat gave a sharp laugh. "Hey, maybe it will be the women who turn things on their head this time. Maybe we can work with my daughters, we can try. I mean, they can't hate us forever, can they?" Cersei spilled wine while laughing. "Oh hell yes, they can! I still hate my father to this day."

Ramsay felt sick and the bitter frustration that was choking him made his smile tight. He did his obligations and his behaved little pet followed right behind him. Behind Reek was Robb, his polite gracious manners didn't stop the ice he glared at Ramsay. When Ramsay had finished with Arya he was given the key to his pet's room by Gregor. Ramsay had opened the door and received a fist to the face. For a brief moment, Ramsay thought Reek had hit him and fully intended to flay his pet's entire hand for it. Yanking out his blade and looking up with a snarl on his lips, he saw Robb Stark. "You knew? You were here the whole fucking time? Did you hurt my boy?"

Robb pulled Ramsay into the room and slammed the door shut. Reek was sitting in a corner, just trembling and looking at the floor. "Did he touch you, Reek?" "No Master. He just brought me here and stayed with me after your father spoke to him." Ramsay stared at Robb then growled. "You fucking asshole. What are you hitting me for then? I didn't see you trying to break down the door and save your little sister, did I? I didn't fucking hurt her, only did what I had to. And for your information, she enjoyed it." Robb launched at Ramsay but then a thunderous pounding came at the door. Gregor's voice came through the door. "No fighting. Get your asses out here and get to the services now."

The three of them drove in silence to the services and only spoke to the guests. Ramsay couldn't believe not just Robb's audacity but his own pet! Reek had a look of hurt and something that might be anger in his eyes and Ramsay couldn't stand it. There was nothing he could do about it in public, but when they got home Reek will regret his attitude. "Robb, have you seen Arya at all? Ramsay, have you?" Sansa asked as soon as she finally had a second away from Joff. This would be the first chance Sansa would have to see her sister at all in a while.

Robb, Ramsay and Reek all shook their heads silently. Sansa narrowed her eyes but then Sandor leaned over. "Sansa, your sister isn't here today. She doesn't feel well and is in her room asleep." Nodding, Sansa replied, "Thank you. Why were you two transferred? No one said anything, all of a sudden this repulsive Tickler is leering at me and treating Joff like he a king." Sandor gave a bitter twist of his lips. "That is exactly why we were transferred. We can't keep an eye on you two while kissing Joff's ass well enough. It is an honor to work in Tywin's house, Arya wasn't demoted or anything. It isn't a punishment for her, it is even better training. She is fine, I promise you."

"Oh alright, thank you. I will try and stop by to visit her tonight then." Sansa said with a small smile. Sandor turned a little red and bashfully said, "Yeah..Arya has no social privileges right now which means she has to stay on the grounds. So you'll have to check with Gregor to see if Arya can visit with you on the estate somewhere." Sansa ground her teeth but nodded then walked away heading for Gregor. "Excuse me. I hear my sister is too ill to be here today. I would like to visit her after the services to see if she is alright. Also, she must be grieving for our brother and I would like to comfort her." Gregor looked down at the girl and shook his head. "You will see her at your family services for your brother. That is in two days. Surely you can wait that long."

Sansa seethed and her back went ramrod straight and her mother seemed to glare out of her eyes. Suddenly there was a presence at her elbow and a voice she already despised. "Bad idea, little birdie. Joff is on his way towards you and if he sees you trying to use your mother's tactics on Gregor..." Sansa knew that Tickler was right. Gregor stared down at her with amusement. "Anything further, Miss Stark?" Joff came past Tickler and he saw his fiance standing before Gregor. Her eyes were lowered and she gave a polite smile. "Thank you for explaining about my sister, Gregor. I look forward to seeing her at my brother's services."

As soon as Joff came over, Sansa was at his side, clinging to his arm lightly. "Gregor said my sister was too ill to come today. I..was wondering if it was alright with you if I could visit with my sister during my brother's services?" Joff shrugged. "It depends on how well you are behaving. I can't take anymore of this and it looks like the Tyrells scared off my mother. Let's take off." Sansa desperately wished to remind Joff that it would look terrible for them to leave. "Of course, Joff. Should we say goodbye to your grandfather first or should I just go get our coats?" Sansa asked sweetly. "You aren't trying to steer me to do the socially right thing, are you, my loving fiance?" Joff asked just as sweetly.

Cringing a bit but wanting to see if Joff will let her play the game, Sansa responded carefully. "No, I have been educated. I will never try to make your decisions for you, I will never deviate from the path you have set for me. But I know that your grandfather will hurt us both if we anger him. Your mother is already in trouble with him. He and my own father are trying to find her and my own mother. They and the Tyrells are the scandalous ones right now. If we leave, we are the ones in trouble when we haven't done anything wrong. I know that if your grandfather hurts you, you will hurt me twice as badly. Please, I don't wish to upset you anymore, Joff."

Joff seemed to consider this. "We shall stay another ten minutes and then we leave. No goodbyes to anyone." Instantly Sansa nodded. "Yes, Joff. Thank you." Quiet elation built Sansa's shattered ego a little bit. Winning ten minutes wasn't a lot but to Sansa it felt like a victory. She couldn't wait to run into Margeary again. Sansa had many questions to ask her.

  Cersei and Cat squinted in the sudden light. Ned and Tywin took in the disheveled drunk women and the empty holy wine bottles around them. 

Chapter Text

Dusten was sweating bullets in his new suit. He honestly couldn't comprehend how the woman has slipped past him. One minute the woman was at the coffin, then Cat Stark stole her. It was all he had to report to Gregor when he couldn't find them after thirty minutes on his own. Gregor was pissed and Dusten was nearly desperate. If the woman was kidnapped, injured or dead, it was his head that would roll and he knew it. Dusten enjoys new things but being skull fucked by Gregor Clegane was not a new thing he wants to try.

Gregor grabbed Dusten from his third visit to the ladies room in hopes, to throw him towards a storage closet. "Take a fucking look, Dusten. Tell me what you see." He looked and moaned at the bottles and the drunk giggling women. The looks on Tywin and Ned's face didn't bode well for him either.

"Perhaps I put the wrong man on the job. Get Cersei home and into bed immediately. Do it discreetly out the back, Dusten. I want you to come find me after you put the woman to bed. You text Polivar to go watch the house when you drop off Cersei then get your ass back to me. If my disciplining you interferes with my special will become my special night. Do you understand me?"

Paling, Dusten nodded. "Yes Sir. My apologies Sir." He pulled the golden drunk to her feet then lifted her into his arms. Ned yanked his drunk wife up and followed Dusten out the back exit. Cersei slept the entire way back and never even knew Dusten carried her to her room. Texting Polivar, Dusten headed to the training hall where Gregor would want him to go. He hoped that Gregor was going to give a fast non clinic visit needed punishment. Though sometimes the fast ones can be worse.

One time they were in such a situation Gregor broke both of Tickler's hands when he tortured and killed the wrong target. And all of the boys have seen at least a bit of what Gregor does once a month for his rest and fun. It was nearly a rule that each recruit had to try and hear or see as much as they can stand. The fear of getting caught and the terror of what is seen is what seems to drive it. Dusten had every intention of making sure Arya lost her Gregor cherry tonight. But he can only do that if he isn't part of the fucking show.

"Did you get lost on the way back from the services?" Gregor's face was full of dramatically fake concern. "I was fucking worried because you took so damned long to get back. I thought maybe you went back South. You fucked up a lot less in the South. Is it the weather? The cold is numbing your fucking head? Do you have S.A.D., Dusten, sweetheart? Would you like me to buy you a fucking extra light to carry around with you to warm your motherfucking brain up? What the fuck is wrong with all of you, huh? You need to be focused, Dusten. I need you to all be ready for the slaughter...but you could have gotten sword fucked up the ass and not known it today!"

Gregor was now in Dusten's face, screaming. A light mist of spit covered Dusten's pale face. Gregor's face was nearing purple and his teeth looked ready to gnaw on something. Dusten sincerely hoped and prayed to every god that his boss is not going to eat his face. He is rather vain about it and would really have some adjusting to do if it was half bitten off. On the other hand, it was unthinkable to move if Gregor started to chomp on him. "You have the easiest fucking job, boy! Watch the woman, keep her from getting publicly drunk and keep her safe. How fucking difficult is that? Did you go to a special school, Dusten? Did you need to wear a helmet but you didn't play football? Huh?"

Taking off his belt, Gregor barked, "Drop them. Grab your fucking ankles. With every hit you will count it and thank me for going so easy on you! If I wasn't already busy tonight..." CRACK! "One. Thank you for going so easy on me, Sir!" Gregor reached fifteen and the boy was nearly incoherent in his answers. His ass was a mass of welts, stripes and bloody tears. Gregor did use all his strength since it was such an easy punishment. Dusten had been screaming and crying by the time Gregor had given him five strokes of his belt. "Now get your fucking ass home and try to figure out why you have become a fucking moron!"

Groaning, Dusten limped home and went to find something to help his pain. The first person he saw was that little pet cunt of Raff's. She was crawling towards the kitchen in just that damned tight midriff and those way too tight, small shorts. "Hey, where is Polivar, have you seen him?" The girl instantly had gone to the ground when he had entered which cooled a bit of his ire. Jeyne looked up, not daring to actually meet his eyes then looked directly into the kitchen. "I shouldn't have to play fucking charades with you to find out information, bitch. Next time I ask a question use your fucking words. Hear me? Use your voice! Hear me?" He was leaning over her, yelling now and Jeyne sobbed, curled into a tiny ball.

"We all can fucking hear you! Stop teasing my pet and come in here. Polivar is in here and so are the Tyrell twins. So watch your fucking mouth." Raff hollered. Baring his teeth in a hungry, face biting smile, Dusten leaned very close and whispered. "Your Master is going out tonight. You'll be here with us..with me. I am going to give you full permission to speak once he leaves, honey. I want to hear that voice and see how well you can beg." Jeyne whimpered and shook, trying not to piss herself out of fear. Which was silly because she had just gone. Only after Dusten stood back up and went to see Polivar, did Jeyne crawl into the kitchen. She went straight to Raff's boot and huddled there. This was safest. Safe was good. Jeyne's world has shrunk to Raff. That made it all safer. Yes.

Margeary glared at Dusten as he came in and went over to paw through Polivar's shit. Polivar reacted by trying to slap the hands away. "You fucking animal! Just dive right the fuck in, no lube or nothing." "Fuck off...I need painkillers now. Hurry the fuck up, I got money right here, hurry up, you stupid fucking ape." Polivar swore and shoved Dusten back then deftly retrieved a small amount of white pills from a vial. "Oxy, asshole. Pay up!" Dusten threw money at him and shoved two of the pills in his mouth and crushed them. He pocketed the rest for later. "Get me a fucking beer!" He snarled at Hotpie who immediately ran to obey the order.

A poker game ensued and Raff stood up, stretching. "Gotta get ready to go." Dusten and Polivar both looked up with angelic expressions. "Don't be late." "Yeah, we will take care of your pet for you." Raff laughed. "Did you really think I'd leave her here for you to play with?" Raff snapped his fingers as he walked away and Jeyne crawled after him.

Raff had leaned over her in the bedroom and spoke sweetly, but that just made Jeyne shake harder. "I can't take you out with you in so much pain and though I love how much you fear me....when we are in public you need to make it a little less apparent. So I am going to give you something to make things a little easier for you. I am going to show you mercy and make you feel better for a little while." Jeyne kissed his boots knowing to always be grateful. The drops on her tongue were bitter but then she felt warmer, the pain wasn't as noticeable as before. 

"When you feel better you will tell me. You will use your voice and say, yes or no Master." Raff instructed. Jeyne felt better but her fear hadn't abated any, though her shaking was now mere trembling. "Yes Master." She spoke very timidly, cringing low, her eyes low. Jeyne didn't recognize the croak as her own voice. "Good girl. I am going to help you stand up. The only time you stand is with my permission." He helped her to her feet and was pleased at how she whimpered in fear the whole time. "I like you better on the ground too, dear. It's safer down there for you, isn't it? I agree but sometimes you do need to stand and walk around for chores or coming outside with me. Hold onto me while you walk into the shower."

She stood perfectly still and allowed Raff to wash her, dry her and dress her as if she were a doll. Jeyne didn't even flinch when Raff began to fix her hair then apply concealing make up to her face with the cold precision of a surgeon. From deep inside herself Jeyne saw her reflection in the full length mirror. She had no idea where he got this dress from but Jeyne despised it. If Damon had ever seen her wear something so revealing, so trashy he'd...Raff's hand struck out of nowhere. "Your attention is wandering. I know you feel strange but you will give me your attention. Now I have to redo this cheek. If you make me get your attention again, I will remove a toenail. What do I want to hear?" "Yes Master."

Any euphoria that could have been truly welcome was destroyed as Jeyne struggled to keep her focus on Raff at all times. There wasn't even a threat about her trying to escape, none was needed. Jeyne whimpered as she was led out the door and to the car. "Easy...I have you. Don't panic." Raff's voice was soothing and Jeyne felt relief when the car door shut. He drove fast and only spoke to her just before they reached their destination. "You will stay with me or wherever I put you. You look at me, you can look at the cattle but you do not look at my men. What do I want to hear if you understand my orders?" "Yes Master." "Good girl."

Raff led her into his branch of his father's human trade business and Jeyne knew one thing right away. After seeing this pit of hell, Jeyne knew that what he told Margeary was true. His treatment of her was downright kind compared to what he could have done to her. As he spoke to men she did not see, Jeyne stared at her Master's boots and tried to timidly inch closer to him. After a few minutes of speaking to his men about humans as if they were truly products, he began to walk with them. Jeyne made sure to follow very close to Raff but she couldn't help to look at the horror around her.

The smell was terrible, humans in cages, some in chains against walls, some laying on narrow cots. They looked beaten,and some were bloody or wearing casts from broken bones. All had prong collars on their necks. That was bad but what truly terrified Jeyne was seeing children. There were men, women, kids and even a few toddlers and pregnant women. Even the little ones showed signs of abuse. Some slaves were led forward. These ones were clean, dressed and any wounds were covered in makeup. Raff walked around them to make sure they were exactly as he wanted them. "Perfect. Oh and I need one more tonight. I know its a long shot, but do we have a redhead?"

Chapter Text

Tickler is at the top of his game and loving it. The stupid sadistic brat was like putty in his hands and the little dove was obedient as well as easily cowed. Gregor chose him for the reasons of one sadist to another. Tywin needed the boy reigned in and who better could understand how to navigate Joff's needs and temper? He plans to be the first to redeem himself in Gregor's eyes by steering the young couple exactly as Tywin wanted.

He observed them having a quiet dinner with Tommen. Their mother was still upstairs. Now closeted with Tywin and Tickler would have offered up his right nut to see what was going on in there. The little boy was pale and silent, barely touching his food. Narrowing his eyes, Joff snapped, "Are you sick? Why don't you eat?" Tickler felt bad and decided to help the little guy out. "I think the boy is a bit sick. Tommen, why don't you ask Joff if you may excuse yourself to your room? You don't want to get your older brother or his fiance sick."

The boy nodded and woodenly asked, "May I please go to my room, Joff? I'm sorry I am sick." Joff sneered at his little brother. "Yeah, get out before you make me sick. I get so much as a sniffle, I will strap you for it." The boy ran off and Sansa continued to eat in silence. "I am moving our wedding date closer. With my father dead with need to have this damned thing solidified with our families."

 Sansa nodded. A bit meekly, Sansa asked, "The wedding dress I was given was planned by our mothers. Would you rather I wore something else?" Grinning, Joff softly replied, "I am glad you asked. Burn the dress, I'll take you and put you in something I'd like better."

Tickler cleared his throat and Joff smiled at Sansa. "I'm going out for a little while. Our new friend here has some entertainment arranged for me. Oh wait..didn't you once say you would seek out your own entertainment too, Sansa darling?" His hand descended on hers and tightened painfully. "I did say that, Joff. But I wouldn't ever do that now. Please, Joff, don't hurt me, I'm being good."

Sansa flushed red at her own pitiful soft submissive whine and tears fell. This seemed to satisfy Joff and he caressed her face, now stroking her sore hand. "I am glad your face is healing so well. I like you pretty, sweetheart. Now you may go to your room and rest. Maybe I'll visit you when I get home." Sansa sniffed and nodded, not even thinking of moving away from his repulsive touch. "Thank you, Joff."

Just as Tickler was about to escort Joff out, Margeary burst into the room, a flustered servant chasing her. "I'm very sorry, Sir. She pushed me and then ran in!" Joff snarled at the maid that he would deal with her later and then he stared at Margeary. "I came to visit with Sansa. Surely you aren't going to deny her a small social visit? Look, Polivar just came on shift, he can check on us, I'll stay right here in the living room with her."

Sansa walked over to Joff and meekly looked up at him then whispered. "Shall I go to my room or visit with her?" Tickler leaned a little closer and suggested quietly, "Polivar will keep a close eye on them. Besides, look at your little dove, she is tame, she knows who owns her. And think, it can be a test. To see just how obedient to your rules Sansa is. Bet you'll come home relaxed to find your meek little dove ready to be with you and not anyone else."

Jeyne followed silently as the van was emptied out and Raff began to herd them all towards what seemed to be a small shack at the very back of the Lannister estate. Once inside there was a staircase leading to rooms underneath the ground. It looked like it was meant as a bunker perhaps for the family if needed, a safe house. Nothing felt safe about this space and Jeyne stayed as close to Raff as she could without bumping into him. Two men had brought the slaves in the van and they were herding them now.

There were three doors off a narrow hallway. All but one were shoved into the larger room. "I'm thrilled you managed to actually get two full families. They tend to try and fight him more to save their family members. Even the women will attack to try and save their children." Raff commented lightly as he steered one lone girl who had auburn hair into a different room. This girl was sobbing quietly and Jeyne felt bad for her. The girl was dressed to look like Sansa and Jeyne knew whatever was going to happen to her would be terrible.

She was chained by her hands to the ceiling, her feet barely brushing against the ground. Satisfied, Raff left the room and then went back to the larger room. He tossed a few old rusty weapons onto the middle of the floor then spoke to the cowering families. "The man coming here tonight is coming to violate, abuse and murder all of you. If you can fend him off or kill him with these weapons, I will allow you freedom. Good luck." Ignoring pleas and questions, Raff and his men left the room, locking the door behind them.

Jeyne nearly ran out of the room on Raff's heels. She was panting, desperate to distance herself from the horrid fate coming for these victims. Raff turned and put one hand on her throat, squeezing slowly as he spoke very slowly and calmly. "No panicking. You have been very good, you have pleased me today, do not ruin it now. What do I want to hear?" "Yes Master. Sorry Master." Jeyne whispered and forced her body to relax within Raff's grip. "Better. We are heading home now and you can go back to crawling. Are you happy to hear that, girl? Look at me when you answer." 

With difficulty Jeyne looked into Raff's lovely eyes and whined. "Yes, please. Home and crawling is safe, Master. I'm happy to go home." Raff gave her a charming smile and she softly whined. "Good girl. Follow." As they were leaving, Jeyne could see Gregor coming from one direction and Joff with Tickler from another. Jeyne hurried after Raff and truly couldn't wait to be inside on the ground where it is safest for her. The second they entered the house, she got down on the floor before Raff could even give the order to. "Good girl. You are getting a reward for doing so well tonight." Jeyne had not eaten since Raff gave her his leftover cereal to lap at this morning. She nearly drooled when Raff pulled out some food. 

She sat on her heels in front of Raff and carefully ate pieces of apple, cheese and homemade bread out of his hand. Jeyne licked his hand clean afterwards then rubbed her head timidly against it. She was grateful that her Master treated her so well, kept her so safe. Had she any idea these men, this one man even was what they are really like, Jeyne never would have approached them. She would never have dared to attack them, never would have been so stupid.

Jeyne was so lucky that Raff didn't put her with the other slaves. Or disfigure her, snap her bones, sell her for torture and death. Whimpering, sobbing, she eagerly let him choke her with his cock until she nearly passed out later on. Jeyne rode Raff so deeply and hard that it caused her to cry out in pain. But she willingly continued to hurt herself upon his command. When he was finished afterwards, Jeyne received another reward. Usually when her Master went to bed, he put Jeyne into the cage.

Tonight he lay on the bed and kicked her to the ground. "You may sleep right at the end of my bed. There is a folded blanket there that you may use. Leave this room, leave that blanket to go anywhere but the bathroom and I will take a toe. What do I want to hear?" "Yes Master, thank you, I am grateful." And she truly was, the blanket felt like a cloud on her sore skin. She fell asleep thinking how very lucky she was. Raff waited until his pet was asleep then slipped back out to make sure clean up was done properly afterwards.

Dusten leaned into Arya's room with a winning smile. "Come's a fucking ritual for the recruit. You are a are one of us, aren't you? Huh?" Making a grimace, Arya said, "Is this a hazing thing? Because I have permission to stay in my room and rest..I had a rough day. And I have no permission to go anywhere either."

Rolling his eyes, Dusten made a quick text. A moment later Sandor filled the doorway. "What do you want?" He grumbled staring at Dusten. "Please inform your student that the 'recruit Gregor sports challenge' is not hazing and that every single man here has done it." Sandor groaned. "Ah,yeah, I forgot about it.'s not hazing, is just disgusting and if you get caught...well, ask Tickler about that."

"I don't want to risk getting in anymore trouble. Can't I do this next month? Doesn't Gregor do whatever this is once a month?" Arya hedged but Dusten shook his head. "I am starting to think you don't really want to be one of us, girl. Here I am offering you a chance to join all of our rituals and you are saying no. After all your talk of trying to fit in."

Arya snarled in frustration but she nodded and grabbed her clothing. "Alright, give me five minutes to get some clothing on." Sandor sighed and Dusten grinned, shoving Sandor playfully. "Oh, lighten up! How long do you think she'll last? Will she puke, faint or cover her eyes first? Want to make a bet?"

Chapter Text

Tickler escorted Joff into the small room. Joff sucked in his breath at the sight of the writhing, begging, terrified redhead. "She looks similar to Sansa...really close, even down to the clothing." Tickler nodded and grinned. "We can get more and we can always dye the hair or change the person to look like whomever you want. There is no reason to ever have to go too far on your real bride or your mother when you can do that to them right here. Anything you want, Joff. If you want to kill her you can, if you want to keep her alive and come visit on occasion you can do that too. This is courtesy of Gregor and Raff."

Joff ignored the girl for a moment to stare hard at Tickler. "Did my father use this service of Raff's? Or receive a gift like this from Gregor?" Tickler shook his head and spoke with disdain. "No offense, but your father is nothing like you, like those of us with a taste for pain and power over others. He was nothing like you and thank the gods for that. He never knew Raff even dealt with slave trading and Gregor wouldn't give your father a gift if a gun was held to his head. Gregor obeyed orders from Tywin but he never respected your father. You, he respects."

The eyes turned back to the girl and he began to slowly walk around her. He smirked at her begging and crying. "See this is a proper way to settle your emotions if I may say. That little dove of yours is broken to you. Some women like your mother and that northern ice cunt need constant beatings to keep in line. Look at what happened today! Sansa would never be found in such a position like that! Some girls only need one good lesson to figure out the way things work. She is one of those, Joff. I say this from someone who observes the girl when she doesn't know it. Like you, I don't see her public face, I can see her private one...even the ones she might not show you. I have an outsider's point of view, Joff."

Joff reached out and ripped the lovely dress off the young woman, enjoying her distress. "So tell me then. What is your review of Sansa's behavior? Not just as an outsider but as someone who...understands what I need her to be, what I want from her." "Since you gave her that beating, the girl has tried her hardest to please you. She is scared, Sansa can barely make eye contact with you and the girl is nearly giving herself a breakdown trying to make sure that she obeys you. The girl doesn't tolerate pain well and Sansa has been humbled, broken. She has become skittish when you aren't with her, Sansa is coming to rely only on you. This is exactly what you want from her. To obey you but offer her humble submissive opinion on things she might know about. You still need her to be a public wife, so you can only take her down so far."

"The fragile bird is obedient and any mistakes she makes will be minor and can be handled with a simple punishment. I bet when you return home, Sansa will be desperate to get away from Margaery and back to you. So your darker needs and fantasies of what you wish to do to your pretty property can be acted out here. Then you can go home and soothe your timid little broken bird." Tickler leaned against the wall and watched as Joff started to look at the weapons and torture devices on the metal table that ran the length of the wall. There were hooks and chains dangling from the ceiling so that he can position the girl any way he wishes. "I wish to have your expertise, Tickler. Would you mind staying?" Tickler smiled and said he didn't mind at all. 

He advised Joff on what different things did and the most effective ways to prolong torture. Joff used a Pear of Anguish and then he very carefully chewed the woman's nipples off. Tickler positioned the screaming, begging girl in the chains for each new thing Joff came up with to try. Finally, Joff couldn't take it anymore and grabbed a cattle prod. He worked it up the helpless victim's ass as she wailed like a fucking siren. It just made him harder and want to hurt her more. Joff had Tickler position her in the chains so he could fuck her while working the cattle prod in her ass. He fucked her brutally and pumped the cattle prod even harder while staring at the agony on her face. Joff started to shock her over and over as he slammed into her swollen, torn and bloody holes.

The girl would jerk, her muscles would tighten, eyes would roll in agony and she would foam at the mouth. Her little feet would patter and the chains rattled while the girl would make a wretched screaming sound. Joff fucked her wildly, his teeth bared in her face, "Yeah, there you go, Sansa. Die on my cock, you little uppity bitch. Act like your mother or mine now, bitch. Fuck, die on my cock, you little whore, you dumb fucking cunt, I want you to feel me come in you as you die."

He continued to force the cattle prod further up her ass beyond any normal limit. The girl began to howl as he pumped the prod into her insides and shocked her continually as he slammed himself in and out of her. A last seizure that went on longer and the girl began to squeeze him so tightly inside then she made a rattling sound. Joff let go of the prod firmly and fatally lodged inside of her ass and grabbed the girl's face with both hands. He fucked her deep and hard then watched as the girl began to die. Joff started to give high pitched whines. His whole body tensed then he poured into the girl, "Oh gods, yes, die on my cock you fucking worthless bitch."

Joff leaned on her corpse for a moment to catch his breath before he was able to hose and towel himself off and get dressed. "That was fucking amazing. Sorry I killed her...can I have another one soon if I want to?" Tickler nodded. "Sure can. You should feel much better now. Before I head home for the night, I want to see if I am right. If that poor broken birdie is sitting miserable with Margeary just waiting for you to return."

That was the furthest thing from the truth. Watching Joff torture and murder the girl has sent Tickler hard as a fucking rock and desperate to go fuck someone. Raff was going to be busy with the clean up of everything, maybe he can sneak up to Jeyne and force her to suck him off. He knows better than to dare rape Raff's property but using her mouth or hands can't really be a big deal.

But first he had to get the little sadist and the fragile dove all tucked away for the night. Tickler wondered if maybe he could get Margeary to blow him. She mainly fucks Gregor when she visits but once Margeary did allow Tickler to go down on her and she used her hands to return the favor. Granted, they were still teenagers then, but there was always hope. He led Joff to the house, trying his damnedest not to seem like he was running.

Sandor refused to go inside the shed with them. "Nope, I am way too big to try and sneak around there. If you two get caught, it's your own problem. I'm going to buy some weed from Polivar and pretending not to have any idea where you all are." Dusten sneered at him but Sandor walked away only giving his middle finger over his shoulder at them. Arya was regretting this already but there was no real way of backing out of it. She can't seem to do anything different than the others, not when her fucking future seems to be on the line everyday.

"If we get bad will it be?" "If YOU get caught then Gregor will do to you what he did to Tickler. The only other one ever to have gotten caught..and that was only because the sick fuck was masturbating to it. He came and stumbled into the wall loud enough for Gregor to hear him." Dusten laughed then signaled her to be quiet.

Silently, Dusten led her down into the cramped hallway and past the first two doors, to the third one. It looked like a storage area full of hardcore cleaning supplies. It also had a small fake wall that removed to be able to see and hear into the larger room without detection. "Now, Gregor is aware this thing is here. He is aware of the game too. He doesn't care about it as long as he doesn't see you do it. As long as you don't draw attention to yourself. Tickler banged against the wall, it distracted and irritated Gregor. He removed Tickler's left little toe. So if you fuck up and get noticed, he will probably take a toe."

Dusten grinned as he removed the fake wall and shoved Arya closer. "If you puke, use the bucket next to you. Be out of here before Gregor is done. And stay very quiet. Oh, if you do get caught and you mention my name, I'm going to take your big right toe myself. Have fun." I could lie and say I looked, Arya thought as Dusten left her alone in the room. But he would know she was lying because if its enough to make someone puke...

Taking a deep breath Arya looked and stopped breathing. Her hands balled into fists, she bit her lip, she winced then tears and sweat came. The sounds in the room were inhuman and Arya wondered if anyone other than the boys knew Gregor did this. Did Tywin truly know what he and these men are capable of? Of course he did and the fact that he is having them all hide their true selves so much makes her worry for the North. Arya watched as Gregor ripped limbs off of his victims like wings off a fly. She observed him raping and partially eating a young girl before he picked up a steel bat. When he forced several small children to sit before him and played a terrible game of Duck, Duck, Smash, Arya ran.

She made it out the shack door and then started to vomit. Dusten and Sandor stood nearby. The giant was shaking his head and the handsome smaller man was laughing until he could barely breath.

Chapter Text

Margeary had been sipping wine and desperately trying to get Sansa to join in. "Oh, no I am happy with my tea. I don't think Joff would like me drinking. I truthfully don't like the taste anyway." With a sympathetic grin the lovely young woman asked, "Is it that you don't like it or you are scared that Joff will be angry?" Sansa hesitated only for a second then responded with a polite smile, "I don't like the taste."

"Uh huh. So how long has he been beating you for?" She smiled at Sansa's look of shock. "Don't is only noticeable to those of us who know what to look for. The fear and pain will at away at you if you let it." Sansa gasped and whispered to Margeary, "Please, the guard is right there, he will hear you! I don't want anymore trouble. Joff will be looking for any reason..." Giving a small sweet laugh, Margeary put a delicate hand on Sansa's knee.

"Don't worry about Polivar. He is a good friend of mine. So is Gregor and all of his boys. I grew up with them, I spent a good amount of my childhood going between my home and the Lannisters. Polivar isn't listening to us, but even if he was, he won't get us in trouble. I promise you." Sansa nodded and then spoke softly. "Joff only hit me for the first time this last week. After his father died, he punched me...then the next night he beat me and raped me. Since then I've been scared to do anything but please him or at least try to."

Margeary rubbed the soft leg and soothed, "I understand. Joff can be quite..sadistic. When I was first engaged to him he hit me. Before we were engaged we rarely spoke to each other except when we had to. He was too busy skinning cats and molesting his little sister to really notice others. I cried for days when I was told I had to marry him. The day came when we were engaged and his gift to me after the fancy ball they held for us was to snatch me half bald and break my nose. All because I drank with my friends and danced more with my brother than with my fiance."

Sansa tried to hide her tears and Margeary cooed while getting some tissues for her. She saw Polivar out of the corner of her eye int he hallway. He was indeed listening and had a smirk on his face. He rolled his eyes and Margeary glared at him then jerked her head for him to leave. Slowly he shook his head then used his phone for a moment to text. Margeary took the chance to look at her text message while Sansa tried to compose herself. It was a frowning face and the message, Friendzoned. Sorry, can't help you out. 

Sansa pulled herself together. "I'm sorry. It was just nice to know that it wasn't a personal thing. continue until they broke the engagement?" Margeary sent Polivar a rude message and looked up at Sansa. "It isn't personal. Most of these husbands from old families..old ways..they are like that. But Joff is worse than most of them. Your father or Robert, yeah they might beat the shit out of their wives, but they don't maim or kill them. They don't spend everyday trying to torture them. That is how Joff is...he wants you to suffer, to constantly fear him and grovel under his damned little pointy shoe."

A surprised bit of laughter burst out of Sansa at that description. "That is the worst part. When I met Joff we were on an equal playing field. We exchanged threats and insults but worked together. The second that Robert died, it was like a whole other side of Joff was in control." Margeary nodded. "Yep. It was his father that kept him line along with Tywin. His grandfather couldn't always be there but Robert was. He was a terrible father but his fists at least kept Joff too fearful to go too far publicly. Now Joff's father is dead and he isn't a child for Tywin to just send away anymore." Margeary poured herself more wine.

"When my grandmother saw what Joff had done to me the night of our engagement she was enraged. She spoke to Tywin and Joff never struck me again. We were rarely allowed to be with each other without an escort after that. But Joff would make all kinds of threats and vile promises of what he would do to me once we were married. It prompted me to rash things." Margeary gave a wolfish grin and Sansa leaned closer. "Like what?" "I started to research different ways to poison a man. I tried to learn how to get a new identity, I was desperate for an escape. All the time I was playing sweet and nice with everyone."

Sansa finished her cooling tea and listened, fascinated. "One night we ended up being left alone after all and Joff was planning to rape me. I took my eye drops and poured them into my wine and downed it. I started to vomit all over him just as Joff started to rip up my dress. Luckily, I didn't kill myself with them! I really wasn't trying to kill myself of course, I was just that fearful of letting his revolting hands touch me. Like being raped by a rabid ferret." Sansa nodded. "Can't say I find any enjoyment in it myself. I can't get out of this wedding, I'm stuck." Margeary might have offered more to say but the door opened and Polivar stood straight up, entering the room as if he'd been there the whole time.

"Joff's back." He said quietly just before Joff entered the room with Tickler behind him. Sansa jumped up and ran to Joff to timidly kiss his cheek. "Did you have a fun time out?" She asked nervously keeping her eyes on his pointed shoes. "Yes, how about you, having fun with your guest?" Sansa's eyes screamed no but she smiled and spoke politely. "Oh yes. She has the best stories to tell." Joff narrowed his eyes at Sansa then at Margeary's wine glass. "And did you have some wine together with your new friend?" Sansa cringed at the tone and shook her head fast. "No, I had tea. Only Margeary had wine."

Joff gave an approving little stingy purse of his lips and rudely said to Margeary, "You had your visit. Go home." Tickler offered to escort Margeary and Polivar scowled. But Tickler had no more luck than Polivar had. Unlike with most of the girls Tickler has played with, he can't force her to what he wants. Not if he doesn't want Gregor to remove his head and shove it up his ass. So when Margeary shoved him away laughing, Tickler had no choice but to let her escape in an Uber. As he cut across the grass heading for the Barracks he saw a small crowd in front of the shack. He stopped long enough to give Arya some shit for puking at Gregor's games then went to head home.

Just as he headed there, he heard Raff call over. "Hey, fuckface! I know that look on your face! I know what you helped Joff do, must be giving you blue balls. Don't even think about going near Jeyne or I'll break your fucking jaw for you. Then I might have a real hard time finding redheads for you. Will certainly never have any supplies for you personally again either." Tickler swore and stomped towards the house. He slammed into the house and heard a sound from the laundry room. With a terrible growing smile, Tickler remembered Polivar's new boy. True, it was a disgusting fat pig, but Tickler has never cared what sex he raped. As a sadist, Tickler was equal opportunity in every way and he headed for the laundry room.




Chapter Text

As if winter looked around the North and was disgusted, it suddenly fled. The morning of the services of Bran Stark it was sunny and warm. The mild breeze came through every window, caressing the curtains. For some inside those windows, the spring felt more like another way to mock them. To have such a lovely day when it will be a day stuck inside stone walls with the dead and the almost dead. And each one of these almost dead folks are seeing everyone else as almost dead folks. 

Sansa let Joff dictate her clothing and hair. He even picked out her make up colors and made her change them twice before he was satisfied. She saw herself in the mirror and almost laughed. It was a very close thing and at the last second it came out as her best craft since he beat her. Turning fast, she blurted out in a voice shaking not to giggle insanely, "Please, can't I just stay here and go with you? I..I don't want to be with them, I want to be with you. I..I won't mess up if I am with you."

Joff smirked and Tickler gave an approving glance to Sansa from the doorway where he was leaning. He tried to stay with Joff at all times that he was with another person. Sansa most especially. Though he had to say, between his own intervention and the girl's cleverness or timidness she has managed to remain unharmed. Joff would start to look for reasons to hurt her, but Sansa was never doing anything wrong. Tickler thinks there is something in there, not of her mother or Cersei that might be something Joff should worry about. He feels if the girl was pushed hard enough, far enough that Sansa would snap. And when she did it would be violent.

He mentioned this in his report to Gregor and Tywin, he always puts everything he observes about both of them. When Tickler isn't watching Joff, it's Polivar. That idiot listens and reports but he doesn't intervene and won't unless he sees or hears Joff becoming too violent. So at night when Tickler heads home and Polivar roams the hallways, Joff goes to Sansa. All the abuse is sexual now but at least Tickler was able to convince Joff to use it instead of physical violence. Tickler showed Joff a few very private movies that featured some of Raff's finest bitches. They were all sexually tortured, molested, violated, but not truly injured. It did the trick at least for now.

Arya stepped out of her bedroom door and almost walked into a wall. Gregor looked down and her and grumbled out, "You have until five this evening to be with your family. Your sister is waiting for your escort, you will watch over her until you both have returned. What time will you both return by?" "Five, sir." He gave a sharp nod and walked away. She took a deep breath and headed down the stairs.

Sandor was walking by and he grinned. "Look at you...can you run or fight in those little black shoes? Never mind the skirt or sweater. Keep walking around like that, you'll never hear the end of it." Narrowing her eyes, Arya retorted, "What should I wear to my brother's death services? My jeans or maybe my sweatsuits?" Arya headed towards the Baratheon's house when she encountered Dusten and Polivar.

Shrill whistles and catcalls from Dusten. Polivar guffawed then asked, "Why are you trying to call her over? She was ugly before but now she looks like Justin Bieber in the middle of transgender surgery." Snorting, Dusten responded, "She could just put a bag over her head and I can pretend though." Arya glared at both of them as she headed to get Sansa. Her sister was ready and she gave her fiance a kiss that made Arya shudder. How her sister can stomach Joff, Arya will never know. On the other hand, her sister could say the same back for Ramsay Bolton. 

The two girls made their way towards the grim Stark estate. They wished they could go straight to the cars and wait but they must all go as a family. Arya looked up at her sister then gave her a whole once over with a grin. "What the hell are you trying to look like? Something is wrong,  you look like...I got it! Dorothy from Wizard of no, wait...Shirley Temple! I mean you have these curls and ribbons, what the fuck is that? Your make up makes you look nearly terminal and this fluffy sweater over a turtle neck shirt? You'll freaking melt. And the ankle length skirt is perfect. If we end up having to run into any religious cults they will automatically assume you are one of theirs and you can just meld in and escape!"

Sansa laughed. "Joff likes to dress me. He likes to humiliate and beat and rape me too." Arya snorted. "I was married by force to Ramsay Bolton. At least the sex was good." Sansa shuddered. "Joff is bad you know what Ramsay did to Kyra?" Nodding, Arya sighed. "Yes, I know. The same as I know Polivar killed my friends and holds Hotpie as a slave and how I know Raff keeps Jeyne as a fuck toy. All these things, terrible things we know and pretend we don't. Or at least act as if we don't care. Tywin and Gregor and fucking Walder Frey all just sat there as my life and Walda Frey's were given away to sadists. Do they really think I would ever leave to be Ramsay's proper little Northern wife?" Sansa squeezed Arya's hand. "Sadly, yes."

 Ramsay sat in the car next to his father but his mind was back at the house with his pet. He didn't mean to hurt him that badly, bad enough that he couldn't come to the services. Not that Ramsay wanted Reek anywhere near the Starks, certainly nowhere near Robb...but Ramsay wanted the support of his pet. The only person that never doubted, questioned or talked back to Ramsay. And that is why Ramsay lost his temper so badly. Even though Reek never spoke the words, Ramsay saw them in his eyes. And he knew if he pushed Reek hard enough, he would tell Ramsay the truth. Sure enough, after a flayed ankle and two broken ribs, Reek spoke. Of course, it was to beg for mercy, but Ramsay could see he truth in Reek's eyes.

"I didn't want to marry a teen girl, Reek! I don't want to be forced into marriage! I didn't want to hunt Kyra, I didn't have any choice in these things! Do you think I had any say in what happened to Jeyne? You think I enjoy putting my own best friend though that? My father is forcing us all like fucking puppets to dance to the South! I am not the traitor here Reek! I am just following orders! No! No, not like my boys, how dare you even think it? I am for the North, fighting to save the North, I am not too weak or too stupid to do that, Reek!"

Ramsay finally had let Reek's senseless babble of agreement soothe him. He had to have the doctor come to see Reek and patch him up. Now his pet is high on painkillers and being watched by a drunk, bitter Damon. And here is Ramsay with his father, ready to sacrifice himself and everyone else yet again. He is sickened by himself. I can't live like this anymore. And the shittiest part was, Ramsay knew he would need the fucking Stark siblings in order to help change things. 

Chapter Text

Cat was tired and sore. Her feet were killing her and so were her thighs. They were still tender from Ned's last beating the night he caught her drunk on holy wine with Cersei. "It is sick, I tell you. That Frey girl cannot be more than nineteen years old. I suppose even Roose is more tolerable to live with then Walder Frey. But the age difference alone...why didn't Roose just marry her to Ramsay?"

Cat handed Varys a drink and gestured to a seat in the one empty den. Varys arched his brow and replied airily, "I guess Roose wanted to find a better bride for Ramsay. I hear that Walder paid a huge sum of money to Roose for the privilege of wedding his daughter." 

Petyr came by and glared at Varys. "Why aren't you singing your little songs to your own clients? Cat needs none of your advice or gossip." Varys gave a little triumphant smirk to Petyr. "Well I simply cannot help it if things are more interesting over here right now. I just know that my songs seem to be interesting to Cat so far..unless you have one you want to share?"

Cat rolled her eyes at the hissing gossip-mongers and dryly assured them, "Ladies, you are both very pretty and very petty. Now, Varys, what did you mean about a better bride for Ramsay? A Frey girl would be the best that boy could ever hope for..."

She didn't miss the warning glare from Petyr to Varys nor did she miss Petyr's eyes casting about for help. Quickly Cat shut the door of the den on the other mourners still milling about their home. "You know something and I demand to hear it. Now or so help me..." Almost as if he were shocked to be doing so Varys blurted out, "Roose had a secret wedding for Ramsay and Arya. Oh gods..why did I say that?"

Petyr stared at Varys and shook his head slowly. "You used your damned truth serum on him, didn't you?" Cat nodded. "Of were the idiot that came over. But if I ask him, he is going to tell me you were there and involved, huh? You fucking traitorous snake!"

Raising up his hands, Petyr smirked. "You are so self centered, it's all about you only. You sold Sansa off to a damned sadist and now you can't get her back. You left Arya to the mercy of Gregor Clegane and his men. I tried to do the right thing and at least secure one daughter of yours away from the fucking Lannisters! Once things have settled more, Ramsay can take Arya to his home or hell, since he isn't interested in her, drop her here to you! But at least she won't be thrown into some sick marriage with Tyrion or hell, Tommen! Or Tywin himself! Would you put it past them?"

Cat hit Petyr's face with all the force she could muster while Varys was dozing in the chair. "You gave my young girl to an adult sadist. A man who hunts girls, a man who forced another man into a freakish creature! So because he is of the North that makes him less a monster than Joff? How dare you?"

Ned strolled through the room and noted his wife was missing. Then he noticed his sons and daughters all seemed to be sneaking into the library. He thought about following to see what they were up to. When Ramsay also went into the room, Ned headed for the library but then he saw Joff. Cat had told him her suspicions and Ned had to concede that his daughter was not at all like her former self. 

The girl had seemed terrified and moved as if her body was in pain. The clothing and appearance was so out of context, Ned at first didn't know it was his own daughter. Her head was low, her eyes met no ones, her voice was meek and as soon as Joff showed, Sansa never left his side. This was the first time all day Ned saw Joff alone.

He slipped up next to Joff and used his whole body to block the room from the boy. One huge arm went around Joff's neck as if to hug him and the other went under. A large hand firmly grasped Joff's balls and started to squeeze tighter and tighter.

"My boy, I know your father is dead and your grandfather is a very busy man. So as your soon to be father in law, I shall offer you some good advice. Northern women can be stubborn and spiteful when pushed. On occasion they need a strong hand to guide them, deliver the occasional push or spank if needed. I understand that, all of us do. I get the feeling that isn't what you are doing though, Joff. If I don't see my daughter lose that look of terror and a body held stiff with torture, I'm going to make you look that way." Ned shoved Joff away from him and headed for the library door.

Robb had just finished telling Jon of Arya's marriage when he noticed the girls glaring at him worse than Jon was. "What?" "You knew?" Arya asked hotly. "You knew all along? Who else knew? Why didn't you stop it?" Defensively, Robb threw up his hands.

"It wasn't my idea or plan, Arya. Roose Bolton fucking ambushed me and then had Locke drag me and Reek to that motel room to wait for Ramsay. I didn't have a choice but to be isn't the worst thing that could happen. What if Tywin decided to marry you to a Lannister? At least this way, it is a Northern partner. Besides, you aren't the only sacrifice being made. I am being pressed by them to marry one of Walder's daughters. A repulsive fucking thought." Jon tilted his head. "And we aren't informing our father of all this...why? I mean, Roose is overriding your parents to marry you guys off? This seems right to you?"

Ramsay chose that moment to slip into the room. Arya glared at him from her perch on the large windowsill. "No, get out. It's a family only meeting." "I'm family now, remember? So go on, talk...I want to talk too. With all of you."  Sansa and Arya smoked a joint in the open window and watched the "man show."

First the men argued and agreed on a series of things. It was agreed that Ned has not managed to do anything to reverse the North's takeover. It was then decided that Roose was trying to take not just the Stark's empire over but be in the employ of Tywin himself. Too many victims and atrocities have been committed for them to ignore any longer. They will rise and rebel even if it means going against or even killing their fathers. "Oh, sounds very dramatic that, are you impressed yet?" Sansa whispered to Arya who giggled under her hand. "Very impressed. Okay, they are done grandstanding...onto their plans. Let's listen." Arya whispered as if commentator of a sports show.

"You might want to stop mocking us and actually pay attention. Being that you two are over in the enemy camp, you will need to spy for us and give us access inside the homes when needed." Jon snapped moodily. Both girls laughed and then tried to stop when they saw how angry the boys looked. Very pleasantly, Arya spoke.

"Let's assume that we helped you with your rebellion. Let's assume that it goes well and you win. Then what? What happens for myself and Sansa? Huh? Can I get a divorce and move on with my life? Sansa and I can leave, travel, go to college maybe? Right?" Both girls bitterly laughed at the somber faces. "No. I would be married off to some Northern man and Arya will be forced to live as a proper Northern wife to Ramsay. So why should we help you with no better chance at a future than we already have now?" Sansa smiled at the men struggling for answers to her question.

They heard a knock at the door and Ned call in, "Why is this door locked?" The girls ditched the smoke and then went climbing out the window. "Let's head back early, I can't take anymore of this bullshit." Sneered Arya and Sansa agreed. "Oh, shit..I think Joff is still in the living room. If I leave without him, he will get all nuts on me. I am really reaching the end of my fucking endurance with him too."

Arya looked up at Sansa. "Do you have a plan? If you need my help, let me know." Sansa smiled and gave Arya's head a mocking pat. "Thanks, little sister. I have it under control for now. Just remember to back up anything I say later and it will be help enough." Arya waited until her sister strolled back into the house before heading towards the Lannisters. As soon as she heard Ramsay yell her name, she ran off the street and onto the property. Moving fast, Arya went to cross behind the barracks to get the the Lannister's back door faster.


Chapter Text

"Fuck Polivar for me?"

Margeary blinked in the bright light suddenly flooding the room as Loras ripped the motel curtain up. "Fuck off and get out of here. Peddle your own ass for drugs. Your fault our grandmother left us here to fucking rot in the North! I need to look good for my own fucking conquests before the fucking manager is banging out door again!" Loras swore and shoved her out of the bed. "Just use your mouth or your hands! Hell, I'd do it if he'd let me! I'm hurting, I can't help either of us like this." He shoved his thin shaking hands in her face.

"Look! I can't go anywhere like this! I already owe Polivar and half the fucking Wildlings money. No one is going to give me any more on my charms or name. No one is going to give you anything soon either! We can't go homeless and unfed, right? You already look like more tanning, no more spas or personal trainers, look at you! Cheap make up and raggy clothes, come on, you gonna get gay Robb to marry you? If you are real lucky maybe the drunk dwarf?" Loras sneered as Margeary punched him in the chest to move him.

"Its not my fault! Grandmother deserted us because of your disgusting fucking habits!" She shot at him over her shoulder as she staggered towards the bathroom. Loras gave a wild laugh and leaned in the doorway as she used the toilet. "Oh, really? Just me, huh? You were supposed to win Joff back. You lost him to that fucking simpering pale thing and THAT is why she left us! You couldn't play scared and timid long enough to marry. That bitch has out acted you."

Margeary snapped back, "No, Loras, I wasn't about to let Joff hurt me just to fucking appease you and Grandmother. That bitch isn't out acting me, she is truly scared and hurt. I visit with her still and I have seen it for myself. No fucking way will I ever let a man do that to me. I'm not your whore anymore than Grandmother's. So fuck off and find another way to pay for your habit."

A knock sounded at the door ending the argument as the two cowered in the bathroom, staring at the door. Margeary whispered, "It's the manager again. If we don't have the money, we might be homeless as of today." Loras clutched his own throat and whined back, "Or it's fucking Tormund or even Polivar looking for their payments and in that case, we'll be dead."

A voice came through the door that made the twins slump in relief then they tried to hurry and put themselves together. "One moment, please! I'll be right there, dear!" Trilled Margeary as Loras used Febreeze on himself since he hasn't managed to remember to shower in a week or so. Opening the door, the twins gave winning if quite stretched smiles and twinkling eyes to Podrick, Tyrion Lannister's personal assistant and driver.

Margeary has slept with him only once but he was the most amazing fuck she has ever had in her life. Even better than the thrill of fucking the giant Clegane who could crush her at any second. She can't even describe it, just that he paid so much attention to pleasuring her that Margeary  had multiple orgasms before they even started to actually fuck.

Loras loves to watch the man walk around and beamed at Podrick over his sister's shoulder. "Uh, hey. So Sansa didn't have a number for you anymore that worked, so I was asked to track you guys down. Joff and Sansa would like to invite you not just to their upcoming nuptials, but want you to be in the wedding party. Here, this packet tells everything, oh and Sansa has added some funds to take car of transportation and wedding related things..outfits, whatever. Great. Oh, I got you this cell..its on of the those pay for minutes one....I took the liberty of putting two hundred dollars onto it. That should let the wedding planners reach you. Have a great day!"

Podrick tried to look as if he wasn't running away. But sleeping with Margeary once was enough, it was like sleeping with a praying mantis, waiting to lose your head. And Loras panting over him is just it's own disturbing. But worse was that Loras looked more like ghoul that needs to find some grave dirt to hide in and Margeary looked fifty shades of fucked up. They really had hit rock bottom and Podrick reported that with disgust to Tyrion. Tyrion laughed then passed it on without the disgust part.

Bare callused feet luxuriated in soft grass. Wind, clean fresh air, warm and mild caressing their pale faces and lips that rarely smile were grinning. It didn't matter that Hotpie was using an old lawn mower to try and cut grass exactly the same way the professional landscapers do. He knows it won't come out right but at least it well be done well, just in a different way. Might earn him punishment, probably will as the job wasn't one of his anyway. But Gregor ordered spring cleaning and the pets took everything very literally. To the boys amusement the pets took the entire house apart, cleaned it and put it back together. 

Jeyne was hanging curtains, sheets and rugs that were carefully washed. She used a string out back, going on instinct of what her mother did. No one questioned their methods, no one was concerned about them going out the door. These are tame creatures, they obey and not a single one of the men could imagine either of them trying to run or rebel. So the two enjoyed the outside and when they finished they sat on the steps while they peeled and cut potatoes for a potato salad. Hotpie had gotten permission to lug the old grill out. He was making his special brand of hamburgers and sausages. So they chopped all the vegetables outside into huge bowls and had a nice long conversation. Well, it really sounded like Hotpie talking to himself.

However, any of the boys could have told you he wasn't, even though he does do that. No, Jeyne was fully involved in the conversation and Hotpie would yell at her objections or teasing. She has learned the art of charades, the ways to use her facial expressions and her body to communicate was creepy and kind of impressive to watch. Many times the only ones home are the pets and they are left with enough chores to keep them busy. They knew their work, their schedules, what to always do for each person, how to react to each thing. Polivar might tell them continually that they are stupid, but they are not. They are clever and they have been broken enough to adapt to their environment. There were no more thoughts of rescue anymore. 

The time Jeyne timidly approached Hotpie who was sobbing in the bathroom. They were alone in the house and Jeyne finally opened the bathroom door and went in. She took one look and instantly came in shutting the door. Without a word, she stood up and began getting things from a small first aid kit in the bathroom. Hotpie let her treat him and then she gave him small very thin pads. She showed him how they could stick to his underwear to catch anymore trickles of blood.

Jeyne quickly wrote a small note telling him if the bleeding gets worse to ask Polivar to see the doctor. He nodded and then he told her what Tickler had done. She held him and let him cry as long as he needed to.  They never spoke of it again. From that day forward, they had a bond. Hotpie had someone to listen to him and Jeyne had a person still treat her like a human. He never disobeyed, she never disobeyed, they never spoke of rebellion or escape or rescue.

They were allowed to use a small battered laptop that smoked if it was on too long and some of the keys only worked if hit several times very hard. Hotpie researched recipes, he and Jeyne both looked up different cleaning techniques and organization.  What both found amusing in a dark way was that neither of them in their former lives were ever overly concerned with domestic things.

Considering what they must do when they are not involved in their domestic work, they threw themselves into it like a religion. One time Gregor's fears came true and Tywin came to the Barracks. He wished to speak with Tickler about Joff and he was already on his walk. Gregor leaped after him and was already planning the worst punishments he could imagine when Tywin saw beaten naked pets and a fucking frat house.

Gregor and Tywin both stared at the sparkling, orderly home that was filled with the delicious smell of an Italian meat sauce. Tickler and Raff were the only two there. They looked the same, acted the same and it jarred with the domestic scene around them. The boy and girl had been wearing shorts and shirts, silent and obedient. Without a bit of prompting, the girl set out mugs and Hotpie gave them coffee. Only the boy spoke and it was soft and respectful. Then he and the girl went directly back to their work. Tywin never asked about the two pets but he did complement the boys on the way they have kept their home.

Gregor was pleased since Tywin was pleased but he was secretly dancing inside that the pets were able to do what those idiot men couldn't. "Make sure those two get a full physical from Qyburn, I'll pay for any services they need. They just made Tywin happy. Now that they have proven truly useful, make sure you care for them so they can continue to do it." Gregor had grumbled later the next morning when he saw Polivar and Raff.

Thrilled to be finally noticed again, Polivar eagerly took Gregor's advice to heart. Of course, he still bullied, taunted, beat and humiliated Hotpie along with working him like a damned horse.  But he dragged the boy by his neck to the doctor's office and had him checked in every way possible. Hotpie didn't understand why he was suddenly enduring medical torture was only eager to get home.

Raff had Jeyne checked out as well and she just pretended she wasn't there. Qyburn made a note of her elective catatonic behavior but told Raff it wasn't a problem. Raff sneered and said he didn't think it was. "She is stressed by you and all of this. Why wouldn't I let her go inside her head as long as she is behaving? If I need her attention, trust me, I can get it."

With a snap of fingers, Jeyne's eyes went to Raff's and her whole body started to tremble and twitch as reality flooded in. "Good girl. Almost done. You can go back to your safe place now." Qyburn watched as the girl relaxed and her eyes went blank. "You encourage this then?" Raff shrugged. "Sometimes, it's best that way for those in..service." Qyburn said nothing else.

Both pets were given vitamins, cuts or infections, minor injuries all treated.  Hotpie had a splint on a finger that had been broken and twisted the wrong way. Jeyne was given antibiotics because some of the raw beds were her nails used to be tend to get dirt and cleaning products caught in them. Also when Raff goes to his "other" work, he glues fake nails onto the raw beds.

Qyburn said the pets needed to eat better, get some real sun and maybe do light walking for exercise. Also because he noticed that Jeyne's knees were heading into arthritis. She was given medications to help the terrible pain and stiffness. "She is a human, Raff. You must let her walk and stand at least for two hours a day. And the pets must use knee pads on the ground and gloves on their hands during cleaning."

The Masters took the suggestions and now everyday, rain or shine the pets take a two mile walk to family owned farm. They buy fresh produce, fruit, dairy and sometimes even meat. Grocery shopping was done by them, they are driven there and driven back. They carry everything in no matter how heavy the bags are. Both pets are allowed to eat full meals three times a day and are expected to have one shake and two snacks during their day.

If either of them skip a meal or their other items, punishment is swift and hard. Hotpie has lost weight and gained some muscle. He was still heavyset, but losing fifteen pounds was a very big deal to him. Jeyne celebrated with Hotpie, he was so touched that she had noticed. They had bought cupcakes at the grocery store for the men. She had snatched one and they shared it as Hotpie showed off his new muscles.

Chapter Text

King Joff was fixing his cuffs one last time, making sure the diamonds winked just right. His suit cost even more than the cuff links did but Grandfather said they were doing very well. Joff took that as assent to spend it and that was about all he really listened to during that awful boring meeting with his grandfather and Tyrion.

The family meetings were as annoying as the business ones. Not that transferring to his father's position caused any extra work. It was a boring job and gave Joff plenty of time to fuck off. His boring uncle goes on about how our personal lives must stay separate from our public ones.

It gave Joff a great chance to start calling his uncle a hypocrite, being that he is a drunk and has whores everywhere. "Yes, I am a drunk and a whore. But I have never gone to a meeting without being sober and able to follow the conversation until the end of the meeting. "I know when to act like a respectful member of society, it might be a lie, but it is one that is necessary to our family's very survival. You need to be seen acting like a fucking normal human being. With a fiance that doesn't look like a pilgrim that just came out of church."

Joff ignored the advice but he received it from his mother and snapped, "I don't want her looking like you or her damned mother!" Cersei snapped back, "Sansa doesn't have to look like us! But she has to look better than that! I am calling Varys to bring over a fashion consultant for you." Joff thought about just throwing Varys and his fluttery assistants out of the house.

The stylist was not only very respectful but instantly complimented Joff's personal style, so Joff let them in. When the clever man saw Sansa in what Joff considered her best outfit, he didn't outwardly react. Internally the scream was loud and it haunted the man for seven days in his dreams.

He tilted his head as if in consideration then waved his arm while nodding and grinning. "Ah...I see what you were trying to do, Sir." Walking quickly over to Joff, he lowered his head and his voice.

"Sir, the style is fine. You have excellent taste. I wanted to say this quietly because it isn't your style, it is the model. The girl just is built a bit taller and wider naturally, for this style she just can't carry it off. I love this style and have used similar cuts but on Mereen girls that tended towards the very slender and short. I can give you a very close look for your fiance that will bring out her innocent, lovely and conservative side. And of course, I expect you to critique it since you have such an eye for this. I am truly stunned that your mother didn't see it and offer you fashion courses when you were young. Well, then again, when you are rich and ruling the world, what is a dream for me, is a simple hobby for you."

The man began that day to recreate Sansa Stark. Joff had very few objections, mainly about colors or patterns that were too close to what most society wives wear. When the man was done Sansa was different, so different but stunning in a whole new way. Sleet ponytails and tight complicated braided buns were her new hair trademark. Whether day or night, her makeup was impeccable, giving her a fresh vibrant and young look.

Sansa brought back pencil skirts that went to the ankles, blouses with flouncy arms, completed by a tight vest or a long tight waistcoat, sometimes with tails. Also pants that had a high corset waist but the flowed down the leg, almost hiding the high heeled leather boots. Seeing that others started to admire and wear her style, the man went into a frenzy of joy. Her style twisted again and it went from a mix of sixties and nineties to adding the Victorian era.

Next problem was the young couple being invited to everything from fancy charity balls to opening night clubs. He worked in a orgasmic rush of creativity and it was spectacular. The first charity ball that Sansa went to was beyond successful. With an actual antique dress that the man found them was literally a princess dress. With a high collar that swept up high in the back beyond her towering braids, twisting with jewels and tightly wound ribbons.

Her dress was "acquired" from a museum from far away many many years ago and the man had to wait until the owner died before getting it from his attic. It was worn by some Martell Princess that died tragically a long time ago. Sansa's personality sparkled in the way that he and Joff helped encourage. Friendly, warm and polite, Sansa was no mean girl, she was not an icy society woman. She was the leading lady within an hour. It was noticed how affectionate she was with Joff and how she always seemed to like being close to him. It was seen as heartwarming.

Joff's popularity went up and the wedding date loomed closer. At first he was determined to be involved in the wedding, he wanted to make sure it went his way. Until he sat with Sansa, Cersei, Cat,Varys and Petyr.

"Due to the date of the wedding being rushed, we may not have as many options as we would like." Varys began and then he pulled out several thick books full of everything from tablecloths, to catering, to florists, to DJ's, live bands, gifts for the wedding party, and Joff was done.

"I will send you down a list of my wants and dislikes. Whenever you all make a decision on something, let me know to approve it. Thank you." He got up after giving Sansa a peck on the forehead. "You know my preferences, dear." Sansa nodded and smiled at Joff. "Of course I do. I promise you will be pleased."

The group couldn't find an appropriate holding for a small, private wedding. All the places that had any openings were too small and private. After some discussion and a text from Sansa to Joff it was decided the wedding would happen on the lovely estate itself. The Baratheon yard and Lannisters is quite huge and forest surrounded the yards. Calls were made by all to different services then they decided to stop working to eat lunch. They all delicately picked at salad and small sandwiches, they drank wine and Sansa had a cup of tea.

Petyr asked a question. "Dearest girl, I have to say, I wonder at your choice for the wedding party. Are you and Joff sure this is the wedding party for you?" Sansa looked up innocently.

"Well, Arya is my sister so she is maid of honor, Tommen is Joff's best man. We were going to either skip it or just add random cousins. But Joff considers Tickler his good friend and wishes him to stand for him. So I needed to ask Walda Frey to make it even. But just two looks strange. And the Tyrell twins look wonderful in public. I have kept in touch with Margeary, she is kind to me and really seems to like Joff. Now I have learned they are under stressful times. I was hoping to give them a little fun to distract them from their problems."

Varys choked a bit on his wine and Cat swallowed her whole glassful and refilled it. "Sansa, darling, I have been over this with  you." Cersie spoke as if she was telling a preschooler something for the umpteenth time. "Margeary is trying to win her former lover back from you. Loras has a drug habit that is killing them both. They can offer you nothing but trouble. I know Joff has created this new you but to just be a saint to has limits, you know that."

Cat leaned forward and when she spoke, she sent plumes of wine that made Sansa dizzy. "Sansa, why don't I contact that nice girl you used to pal with, Jeyne, right? I remember you were very close with her when you girls were in school." Her chin raised high, Sansa spoke to her mother in soft but chilling tones. "Jeyne is no longer reachable. The twins can serve their purpose. To look pretty and bring a little dazzle to the ceremony. Joff and I have decided. End of the subject." Petyr gave a slight smirk as he began to pull out cloth swatches for table cloths.

Joff received Sansa's texts during the meeting and approved or disapproved things. The fashion designer stopped by to get new measurements for the wedding attire. He complimented Joff on his physique and then made sure he had all of Joff's wishes for his wife's dress down before he left. "I shall return with your outfit in two days. I will also begin to design a wedding dress for a girl about to marry a prince." He trilled as he left and Joff gave an unwilling grin back. "I have no idea why I like you, but I do. See you in two days, Jaq. Thanks again."  

Tickler brought some new movies for Joff to watch. "Saw Sansa at the meeting. She looks tired and harried but is holding her own. Every wish you had the girl has fought them for. Sansa sips her tea, smiles nicely but the second they try their tricks or slyness she shows that clever bit of her you have preserved. Truly, you couldn't have MADE a better bride for you. I have never seen a man manage to train a girl so fast, Joff."

Laughing, Joff sneered, "My father was a drunken dick. But he had one saying that I didn't understand really, until now." Tickler offered a whiskey and asked, "Oh, what is that?" "When you marry, make sure of two big things. Make sure she is connected to wealth and power and make sure she can be a lady in public and a whore in the bedroom. Maybe dad would be proud of the fact that I have that. Except the things I do in the bedroom, he probably never thought of."  

That night Jeyne cowered under the table when Raff and Tickler had a shouting match.



Chapter Text

Cat had asked Petyr to walk her home and then invited him inside for a quick drink as it was evening. "That was a very intense wedding planners meeting. I never had one that lasted so long with so many rejections in my life. I believe my pride is barely intact." Sniffed the elegant man as he seemed to glide next to her. The long black fur cloak that Cat was wearing luckily had a hood and she put it up. Fog was heavy in the damp air and they went past The Barracks to cross over to Stark land.

Hotpie was just putting out the trash and saw the two figures going by. He ran inside and clutched Jeyne who was doing dishes. "I just saw a vampire and the fucking Grim Reaper walking by outside! It has to be the Apocalypse like I told you! We are going to have to learn how to survive in the land and to fend off vampires." Jeyne snorted and silently laughed.

Unfortunately for Hotpie, Polivar was sitting there tormenting Loras over being so late with payments. He heard it and began to taunt Hotpie over his supernatural fears. Loras was so thrilled not to be the target and desperate for Polivar to give him anything to make this fucking detoxing end. He joined in and within moments they had Hotpie in tears. They made him wear a necklace of garlic, eat all the Popsicles fast to make tiny crosses.

Then they acted out with Polivar as the Grim Reaper and Loras as the vampire how Hotpie would survive them. Jeyne was forced into the game, she had no interest in the sadistic game but had no choice. Unless Raff himself was there to say no, Jeyne had no voice and she would never dare to anger one of them. Jeyne lasted the longest against them simply by finding a hiding place they couldn't reach. Hotpie not only lost but was figuratively killed.

He was given three chances at the game and each time he died. So Polivar had him dig out a hole in the wet foggy yard without assistant of anything but the small porch light. When the hole was dug Hotpie had to sit in it with his eyes shut and pretend he is dead. After Polivar made Loras grovel a little more, he gave the sickening junkie what he wanted. Loras scuttled off and Polivar went to retrieve his pet.

Sneaking up on him slowly, Polivar crawled up and lunged. The boy had done as he was told, he had his eyes shut. Of course, Hotpie heard Polivar coming but his mind kept telling him what if it was the vampire, the reaper, or worse? When teeth suddenly sunk into his neck, Hotpie screamed and pissed himself. Polivar laughed for a full hour as Hotpie stood in the shower sobbing.

Petyr was sipping his whiskey and joking with Cat about the dreadfulness of dealing with Joff and Cersei. He thought nothing of it when Ned entered the room. Smiling broadly at both of them, Ned boomed out, "Well, was it as bad as you feared it would be, darling?" Cat stood up and gave Ned a kiss on the cheek. "It was horrible. It was hard enough to pull off a wedding so fast, but with Joff constantly sending his damned demands, it was a challenge."

Ned stood next to the desk, quite close to Petyr and instead of sitting down Cat moved closer. Petyr wasn't stupid and he bolted for the door. Petyr has never had the experience of having an angry moose during rut season attack him. He was fairly sure it was very close to having Ned land on him. Petyr had a small moment to experience the beautiful craftsmanship of the door before he found himself studying the sturdy, over-polished wood of the floor.

Then he was lifted far too easily for his own taste and he discovered this moose had fists. Ned knew the best places to land a punch and Petyr discovered why. After some good blows to his kidneys that sent Petyr into screaming, Ned gave one hard punch into Petyr's bladder, making the man piss himself. He heard a clank then Ned threw him into a sitting position on a metal folding chair. Of course, I am bleeding and am covered in piss, must protect the nice furniture, he thought dizzily.

Ned hovered over him like a nuclear weapon ready to be launched and Cat stood in front of Petyr, eyes cold as winter. "My best friend." She sneered. "You took away my custody of my daughter? You married her, an underage girl to Ramsay Bolton. Was it consummated?" Petyr struggled but then gave a begrudging nod. Cat's small fist came without warning. The pain was an engulfing wave but it was actually the crunch of delicate bones that made Petyr vomit on himself.

He was yanked straight again in the chair. Ned knelt in front of him and Petyr flinched. "Cat, go get me a small washcloth for his nose." Nodding, Cat rubbed her sore hand and stormed off. " have been a part of our lives for a long time. You know how I feel about you, it has never been a secret. But I have never interfered in your friendship, in your continual presence and input into our lives. I have never thought well of you, but I never once would have thought you would do something to hurt your own best confidant. Cat could bury you with all she knows of you, Petyr. I could bury you in the true literal sense. So why?"

"I am loyal to the North and to your wife, Ned." Every word came out muffled and slurred but the emotion was there. "It was the only way to save Arya. Twyin is not just taking over, man. He is going to keep your daughters and exterminate the rest of you. I heard him, he trusts me because I help his daughter more than Varys does now. And I have kept his son busy out of bars and known whorehouses by giving him private entertainment." Cat came in and silently handed a damp rag to Petyr then sat on a nice chair nearby.

"I was there when he said he wanted to marry Arya to the dwarf. It isn't like begging him to reconsider would work, Ned. I didn't have any other immediate answer! So I said it would look better if she married someone a little closer to her own age. Marrying her to a man Tyrion's age would look obscene and be a scandal. I said that Roose is desperate to get some ties with the Freys who were friends with the Lannisters now more than us! I convinced Tywin that it would solidify things for him with Roose if he gave him a connection to the Freys. Also, having Ramsay and Arya marry solidified her connection to the North. It was the best I could do to save her in the moment!"

Ned nodded and grimly replied, "Thank you for the truth, Petyr. I understand you wished to keep Arya with a strong northern tie and I also understand how important the right connections are to you. So now he has Roose too as well as my daughters? Who else was involved in this sickening event?"

Petyr held the rag to his bleeding, broken nose and winced at the pain. "Walder Frey and his son were there with his daughter Walda to marry Roose. Roose had brought Ramsay and Locke with him. Arya came with Gregor Clegane. The three younger ones were not told of the wedding until it was too late to back out."

Petyr paused then his voice softer than before he continued. "After the wedding, Ramsay and Arya were brought to a motel by Gregor. They were told it was to be a marriage in name only except for this one time. As expected both were rebelling against the idea Roose had made Robb bring Ramsay's pet to the motel. He held him a small room nearby. Gregor told Ramsay that he wasn't getting his pet back until the act was completed. Uh..Gregor had a camera installed in the room so he could watch to make sure Arya wasn't injured. He was willing on both ends. She wasn't hurt. Ramsay left immediately after and they haven't spoken since."

Cat was now standing next to Ned and they looked like predators about to eat their prey. In her nice cultured voice Cat asked, "I think I heard you wrong, Petyr. Did you say Robb? Did you say that Roose Bolton involved my firstborn son in this mess? That Robb knew what was about to happen to Arya and did nothing? I don't believe that, friend. Try again."

Petyr groaned and muttered, "Yes, it was your son. I don't know what Roose threatened him with to get him to do it. I am sure that Robb was not willing, I have not spoken to him and I did not see him. I only heard it through Walder Frey during tea the next day. I was only there long enough to explain to Arya what was happening and to give the paperwork for signing."

Cat and Ned walked away for a second to speak alone, but Petyr knew better than to try and leave. Not to mention he wasn't sure if he could walk upright yet. Petyr watched warily as Cat approached him.

"You should have tried to reach us. You could have reached me the second you left that meeting with Tywin. You chose to go behind my back. You gave my second daughter, my young daughter away as a child bride. We are not friends anymore, Petyr. Our relationship has shifted to a new chapter. I am now going to see you as not just a wedding coordinator I must work with. I am also going to see you as our informant. And the first time you stop being an informant, our relationship will change again. Because I will be standing over your grave grieving the loss of my friend."

Chapter Text

Ramsay led his men into the Wildling bar and Reek scuttled right behind him. Reek was watching the floorboards mechanically counting his steps to their usual booth. When Ramsay stopped short, Reek almost bumped into him and gave a tiny squeak of surprise. Then he looked up and saw they were next to what had always been Robb's booth. In the booth was Tyrion Lannister, Podrick and some new scruffy dangerous looking man.

"Why are you sitting here?" Ramsay's voice was cold and clipped. Tyrion tilted his head as if giving this question deep consideration. "It is a booth within a bar that I decided I liked. So I am sitting in the booth as I believe is its normal function. And enjoying my drink which I will pay for. Don't worry, I can afford the luxury of sitting while drinking." He gave a winning smile to Ramsay and continued to drink his wine.

"I meant, why this booth? You know it belongs to Robb Stark." Tyrion showed fake surprise upon Ramsay's words and replied dramatically, "Oh, does it? My deepest apologies then. Funny though, because if this is Robb Stark's booth then why is he not in it? He is beyond that curtain over there instead. He must have found a better booth. I'll just keep this one functional until Robb wants it back."

Snarling, Ramsay got closer to the dwarf but Damon snapped, "Ramsay, we don't have time for this. If he is here to spy, I'll just rip his fucking ears off now." The scruffy man was suddenly pointing a gun at them all and he drawled out in a eastern accent, "Now see...I have a problem with that bit. Seems a bit extreme to rip someone's ears off over a fucking booth."

Tyrion gave a small gesture. "Building my entourage. You know Pod my personal assistant and driver. This is Bronn, he is my bodyguard and an excellent drinking partner. My father's men would only protect me if I was being injured or killed in a way that would make my father look bad. Otherwise, they would personally beat the shit out of me and bury me if they could. So would my sister and father. So I don't really give a fuck if you are having some secret meeting. I am here to drink and just wish to use this most comfortable booth. So why don't you scuttle along before the other boy scouts already get their badges and you miss yours?" Ramsay stared at the dwarf then at Bronn. He sneered, "You aren't worth our trouble." Bronn put the gun away as the boys filed into the back room.

Petyr groaned as Varys came gliding into his luxury condo. "The maid let you in? She is fired. Tell her on your way out, please." Varys clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "How rude of you. It must be the pain talking. And if you want better servants I have told you before that I have the very best connection for that." With a snort of disgust, Petyr said, "Oh yes. Because what I need is to start using slaves for domestics in the fiercely free North." Varys gave a tiny smile and replied, "You peddle children if someone wishes it. This is less reprehensible if you are caught at it then giving a slave a better life? You don't exactly give your employees rags to wear a feed them a crust of bread once a day." 

"Let me tell you why I am here before you become rude again. Here, fix your ice pack, looking at that nose is making me sick. You need to have a proper plastic surgeon see that. Those E.R. hacks at that slum hospital you used three cities away made no effort to really fix that, did they?"  Varys gave Petyr a look of pity as he sat carefully on Petyr's antique chair. Petyr lay on the couch and stared at Varys with one glittery eye. "It is all ending soon for the fierce folks of yours. It doesn't matter that Ned and Cat know about Ramsay and Arya. It is already over and it is just corpse retrieval soon. You should really consider moving an to another area....or perhaps there is another option open for you." Varys paused as he saw a loose thread on his cuff.

Reek sat curled on his Master's lap and listened to the men argue and plot. Torumund, Mance and Styr were Wildlings ready for vengeance over one of their own, Ygritte, as well as take back the North. Jon was there but he seemed to be there more with these men than his own brother. Myranda and Ros have forced their way into the meeting. Robb, Harald Karstark, Skinner, Damon and Ramsay completed the table of angry, bitter Northerners. He was floating away on the pain medications his Master has so kindly allowed him. Ever since the night that Alyn died, Damon lost Jeyne and they had to hunt Kyra, Ramsay has been miserable. Since Ramsay was forced into marriage and his father got his own child bride pregnant, he has been tormented.

This was passed onto Reek. Poor Master, he would yell about how he didn't have any choice in the decisions. How he never wanted to marry or sleep with Arya. How Kyra and Jeyne were not his fault. He raged about his father replacing him with new children. Ramsay screamed at Reek that the North will rise again that he will see to it. Reek agrees, he eagerly says that only Ramsay can save the North and Reek knows that none of this was his Master's fault. Sometimes it appeases and other times Ramsay hurts him anyway. What doesn't change is Reek's belief in his Master. He feels Ramsay's pain almost as his own and if his Master allowed him to help he would gladly help his Master kill them all. Not that Ramsay would allow that. No, Reek will be left behind, as Jeyne would have been. 

Rubbing his face gently along Ramsay's soft shirt, Reek let sentences float by him. "What about Roose and Ned?" "I mean, we have allowed the elders to do something and becomes a traitor and the other a fucking pacifist!" We cannot let them get in our way." Reek's chest rumbled when Ramsay replied grimly to the men, "I will take care of my father personally." Ramsay's heavy hand gently began to pat his messy curls and Reek leaned into the touch. He didn't even flinch when he heard Robb's voice next. "I will deal with my father. I will create a distraction for him so he will be out of the way."

Damon snorted then took a large swig of his drink. "What about Arya or Sansa? Will they help us? We need them to help us from the inside." Robb and Jon exchanged a look with Ramsay. Shaking his head, Robb gave a humorless grin. "Arya wants nothing to do with her husband. Or her family. She is busy with her new world learning to fight against us. Sansa is totally brainwashed and beaten by Joff and his family. We cannot trust either of them anymore." Damon sneered. "How easy so many turned traitor on their own family and friends. Roose, Ned, Sansa and Arya all in one swoop. What is the this fucking power the Lannisters have that turns proper northern folk into southern pawns?"

With a small whimper of unease, Reek pressed into Ramsay. He was not normally afraid of the boys since he became Ramsay's good Reek, but Damon has changed. Reek fears the new Damon. Since Jeyne was given away to Raff, Damon was drinking more than he ever did. He also has become more violent, more acidic than Reek has ever seen him. "My main goal is to get my girl out of there first." He has told everyone several times. Damon has described Jeyne three times as if no one knew what she looked like. He was gaunt and pale with haunted eyes. Reek hoped that they saved Jeyne. He misses her terribly as much as he misses his happier, nicer Master. The meds still worked their magic, even more after Ramsay held a strong drink for Reek to sip at.

More words floated by but Reek didn't float with them, Ramsay held him tightly against him. "Three days until Sansa's wedding party dinner, that is when we will strike. Most of the men will be at the party to guard them. We can attack the Barracks, extract Jeyne and Arya's little friend Hotpie. Kill whomever is with them, whoever didn't work that night. Set the Barracks on fire to draw them out. As the boys come out, half of us will finish them off. The other half will sneak past inside. Another break and anyone in Tywin's house that isn't a servant dies. We shall attack the Baratheon's house, the rest who are setting fires or killing Mountain men will join us when they are finished." Announced Ramsay. Then Reek heard nothing as he dozed in Ramsay's lap.

Chapter Text

Varys looked up at the rumbling sky and frowned slightly. He snapped his fingers and the young silent boy next to him quickly opened an umbrella over the bald head.  Moving into the windy day, Varys crossed the street and went into the fancy little restaurant. His young assistant had shut the umbrella, held the doors and was now quietly speaking to the lady at the ornate desk. She looked over at Varys, smiled politely and led him into a private back room. A small waterfall graced one wall and the others were glass leading towards a gated garden patio deck.

As he sat on the cold hard chair left at the full table, Varys commented, "What your North has in beauty gets lost in the cold hard discomforts. If the restaurant wishes folks to sit out here, they should offer some padding on the seats or at least a brazier to warm us."  A small smile played on plump lips. "Why thank you for that compliment to our North. I often imagine it as a cold beauty, like a lovely young lady that might kill you at any moment." Petyr snorted and rolled his eyes. Varys shifted his gaze to Petyr and smirked. "I am so glad that you decided to join us after all."

Petyr snarled and drank deeply, finishing his glass of wine. Varys merely smiled and sipped at his wine. "Were you able to obtain what was needed?" "Yes. I pray you are able to pull this off. If not and you turn me in as the person who obtained this for you, I swear to God, I'll turn evidence against both of you. Hear me?" He shoved four tiny bottles full liquid towards the girl he felt was entirely too calm. She put on gloves before taking the bottles and making them disappear. "Why so upset, Petyr? I figured you would be proud of me." The voice was tinged with amusement.

Raff knocked on the study door and swallowed thickly. It was never good to be called to Tywin Lannister's study. He and Dusten stood there trying to understand what they might have done wrong. How badly will Gregor hurt them for it and worse, how far from his graces will they fall? Gregor himself opened the door and his face told them nothing. Tywin was at his desk writing something. Gregor gestured for the boys to stand in front of the desk and wait. After a moment the imposing older man spoke.

"I understand that there is some minor issues concerning product price, your father and our needs. I have taken the liberty to contact your father, Raff. He and I have spoken prices and what I shall require of you. As he has always been, he was reasonable. So, here is your check, young man. This will cover both the cost for a new servant for Sansa, as well as the monthly needs of my grandson. Now, if you have any other concerns, you can tell me now and we can call your father on speaker phone to resolve it."

Seething inside, how DARE they go over his head and call his father? How will that look later on when he gives his usual report to his father? Who will now think his son is fucking incompetent! Shaking his head, Raff managed to mutter, "No Sir. No concerns. Thank you for the check. I will have the new maid to you within a few days. I have been working with her and she is nearly ready." Tywin nodded, still having not looked up from his work once. "Excellent. You may go then." Raff nodded and stiffly turned and left the room before allowing the rage to show on his face.

Dusten stood and waited as the man spoke again, still scribbling on paper. "You are the one guarding my daughter? The one who has reported to Gregor that she is dallying with one of Ned's drivers?" Dusten nodded then remembered Tywin wasn't looking up at him. "Yes Sir. It was only once and I stayed nearby in case Cersei was in need of discretion upon trying to return home." Nodding, Tywin asked mildly, "And have you enjoyed her..talents? Or have you flirted with her in anyway?"

"No Sir. I have only been respectful and done my job, I swear it." Tywin finally looked up as if to assess the man. "You are handsome, blonde and young. Her perfect type, it must be driving her mad that you've never tried anything with her. I know Gregor had ordered you not to attempt anything with my daughter. I am now telling you I want you to keep her entertained. Keep her from sleeping around town....anyway you need to. If she must sleep with the help, it must be with someone her own personal guard."  Dusten gave a polite nod and a small smile. "Of course, Sir. As you wish."

Rickon looked up at the two folks he trusted in this shitty world. "Are..are you sure this is for the best?" Robb nodded firmly and Jon tried to give the boy a confident smile. "Yes, here is your backpack. I filled it with everything you'll want or need. Listen, until things calm down around here its just not safe for you. We want to save at least one member of our family from what is coming. Now this is five hundred dollars and here is the train ticket." Robb tucked the ticket into Rickon's hand and the money into his pocket then hugged him tightly. "Good luck and try to stay safe."

Jon grabbed the boy next ad hugged him. "Listen, you stay on this route until you get to the Reach. My buddy Sam is going to be waiting there. He will take good care of you, alright? Now go on." Taking a deep breath, Rickon got on the train and watched his brothers go by...then he watched the trees blur past until the rain made everything too blurry to see. Jon and Robb looked at each other with guilt and relief. "Okay, let's go tell Dad that Rickon has run away." Robb shook his head. "I don't care much for mother, but I hate hurting her this way.  She will think Rickon is hurt or dead when they can't find him." Jon spit on the ground and replied bitterly, "Yeah, wouldn't want to see Cat hurt."

The Barracks door slammed hard enough to cause Hotpie to jump and break a glass. "JEYNE!" Now it was the girl who jumped as she dropped the cheese and grater. She went down to her hands and knees and crawled to Raff. Peeking up, her heart sunk low and tears began to stream as Jeyne's small frame shook. The anger on his face has made him look like some sort of avenging demi god. As Raff wrapped a length of thin chain around his fist, Jeyne groveled silently for mercy. As the metal whipped into her flesh, Jeyne knew no mercy was coming. Whatever or whoever may have angered Raff, it was Jeyne that was going to cry and beg for it.

Tickler came in to find Raff whipping his screaming girl in the parlor. Smiling he went into the kitchen and saw HotPie trying to clean broken glass on the floor. HotPie whimpered when he saw Tickler's boots in front of his kneeling frame. A small sliver of glass sunk into one of his fingers and he winced. "Uh oh...clumsy Piggy. What would Polivar do if I told him you broke another one of the glasses?" Dropping his head low, HotPie starts to sob. He could barely hear Tickler's words over Jeyne's screaming which as now dissolved into actual hoarse words.

Whenever Raff hurts Jeyne, she is allowed as many words as she would like. He likes to hear her beg and scream for mercy. HotPie knows that the sound of her agony is about be joined by his own. Raff is Jeyne's demi god and Tickler is HotPie's boogeyman. Anytime Polivar is not around and Tickler is, HotPie is fair game. Within seconds the house was fill of the sounds of misery. The pets do not run from their tormentors nor do they dare to fight back. Jeyne covers her head and screams that she is sorry, that she will try harder, that she loves and worships her master.

HotPie sobs harder with every thrust and his face is being ground into the small glass shards as Tickler rips his insides apart with his cock. Tickler makes HotPie squeal as if he is a real pig and the boy tries to find a safe place in his head to leave to. I can't do this anymore, I can't take more of this. I can't hear Jeyne scream anymore, I can't hear myself, feel this forever, it is too much to ask of anyone. I know where Polivar's weapons shot and it's over for me. As soon as Tickler is done, I will crawl upstairs like I always do. No one will think I am doing anything more than sobbing in the bathroom. Polivar can figure out how to get my blood and body out of his room, but he will never get the stench out.  The thought was almost enough to get HotPie through it.

Loras was drenched. His last good pair of shoes were being ruined as he slogged through dirty puddles, heading towards the rich section of town. He needed to beg Polivar for more, to let him use another tab, after all he DID pay him back finally. Maybe he can convince Polivar that if he let Loras suck his cock, it could feel as good as his sister. A black car pulled up next to him and the window rolled down to show a grinning Ramsay. "Hey, you look soaked. Get in, looks like you are heading the same way." Hesitating, Loras wondered if Ramsay was looking for a flaying victim, he has heard stories. Then he watched as Ramsay lit a joint and inhaled deeply. "Yes or no? Want a ride?" Loras leaped into the passenger seat with a soggy thump.

He was offered the joint and he smoked the whole thing as Ramsay drove. Loras wasn't really surprised when Ramsay pulled off the main road onto the lesser used forest path. The weed had helped with the worst of the withdrawal symptoms and his head was foggy, detached and a bit dreamy. "Are you going to kill me?" His voice sounded calm but there was a thread of panic growing in there. Ramsay laughed and shook his head. "No...I have an offer to make. I need the looks of you, you need some relief." Ramsay held out the baggie. It contained several joints, two bottles full of Oxycontin and four balloons of heroin. "Enough to get you through the wedding party and the wedding. Or enough to kill you. All I to know a little about the Barracks and the men's schedules. No one will ever know."

Polivar had finished his shift and heading home. He told Piggy to make that garlic cheese dish he liked and Polivar hopes its almost done by now. He is starving. Opening the door, the first thing he heard was Jeyne begging for mercy in broken sobs and then he heard another a yelp that was his own pet. Walking into the kitchen, Polivar stopped, seeing Hotpie on his knees, ass up, his bloody face grinding into broken glass.  Tickler was raping the Piggy, grinding and thrusting in rough painful ways to make the boy squeal.

Tickler was having a grand old time and instead of a beer and good dinner, Polivar had to deal with this fucking shit. He knocked Tickler off HotPie and the man clutched his cock and came hard on the floor. "You fucking disgusting piece of shit! You can clean up your own fucking come stains! I didn't say you could fuck my pet! Do it again and I swear to every God, I'll break your fucking hands."

Chapter Text

Polivar delivered a hard kick into the shuddering Tickler's back, knocking the still recovering man face first into his own cooling semen. "Sick fucker! Now look at this fucking mess! Fuck!" He kicked the man again then he turned to see HotPie trying to pull his shorts over his bleeding ass.

With a curse, Polivar yanked the boy to his feet by his leather collar then swore again when he saw his blood covered, glass encrusted face. "Shit. Look what you fucking did, asshole! You are paying the fucking bill from Qyburn! Hear me! And if Qyburn tells me that Piggy needs stitches up his ass, I am going to beat you till you need the fucking hospital!"

Jerking on his collar, Polivar dragged his sobbing, bleeding pet out the door and towards the clinic near Tywin's house. "You stupid little idiot, why didn't you tell me he was doing that to you? A little beating is one thing...but you aren't a are a piggy. You should have told me. Didn't you clue in to that the night you nearly blew me to stay alive and I told you to stay away from my cock?" Polivar stopped when HotPie muttered, "I didn't think you would care, Master."

Grabbing his hair by the roots, Polivar lifted the boy's head so he would look him in the eyes. "I am your owner. No one else. If anyone else fucks with you like that you tell me. You tell me anything and everything, I am your Master. You don't keep anything from me, ever. If I knew Tickler was doing that, I would have kicked his ass and ended it. I protect what is mine, Piggy."

Looking into the lost, sad eyes, Polivar forced his sneer into a sharp smile. He rubbed the sore parts of the scalp on the boy where he yanked his hair then pulled the boy into a hard hug. " dumb, defenseless kid. What would you do without me? I'll never let that raging chode touch you anymore. For now on, I want you to tell me everything that goes on around here. It will help me keep you safe, since you can't tell what is safe or not. Don't worry, Polivar will take care of you, Piggy."

He spun the boy around and pulled him towards the clinic again. "Now let's get you all fixed up. Hey, I'll have Qyburn weigh you! That will cheer you up, won't it? You have lost some flesh, pretty soon no one will get the joke of your name but us!" Laughing, Polivar slapped his pet on the back and got a tiny smile in return. "There ya go! Good boy."

There was not only a myriad of tiny cuts across the boy's face but he needed stitching in the worst of places after all. Polivar made sure that the doctor gave the boy Novocaine. "I'm not giving him anything else, you have enough of your own supply to offer. But whoever is using the boy needs to be more careful. One or two more times like this I'll be doing surgery and giving him a colostomy bag."

Polivar picked glass out of his pet's sweaty hair as the boy sobbed at the thought of a colostomy bag. "Don't you worry, Piggy. Already told you, it won't be happening ever again. Relax, huh?" When it was over, Polivar had to nearly carry the boy back home. In fact, near the house, the boy collapses and Polivar found himself hoisting the boy in a fireman's hold. "Well, thank the fucking gods that you have lost weight." Polivar chuckled and carried his pet into the house. He gently put the piggy on his own feet in the kitchen.

Tickler was cleaning the mess on the floor whistling some pop song. Polivar ignored him while he tended to his pet. "Hey, wake up. Hey, look up at your Master. Don't ignore me, Piggy." He spoke sharply to the boy who seemed to be greying in and out. Focusing on Polivar's eyes, Hotpie gave a tiny sob and babbled, "Sorry, Master. Sorry, didn't mean to...I will get back to work, I will get your supper." Sighing, Polivar sat in his usual chair and pulled his black box closer as well as the boy.

"You can finish making my dinner in a minute. First I am going to give you something to make you clearer. And another something that will help with the pain. Doctor said worst of your pain will last a few day. So for three days, you are going to get stuff to make you feel better. Then it ends and if you ever ask me for it or try to take it from my box or anyone else, I'll break both your legs. Do you hear me?" Hotpie nodded and swayed on his feet, causing Polivar to grab his collar to steady him.

A pill then a quick injection and the pain was gone or at least it wasn't concerning him anymore. He stood straight and felt a bolt of energy go through him. I am going to cook the shit out of dinner, he thought and giggled at his own thought. Polivar grinned and drawled out, "High as fuck, huh? Well, you deserve a little comfort after what you've been through, Piggy. You are my good Piggy, aren't you?" Hotpie grinned back and nodded. "Yes Master."

Polivar gave a nod towards the counter full of ingredients that were abandoned. "You get cooking while I deal with cocksucker? Go on." Eagerly, the boy nodded and went back to the comforts of culinary work. He grated, he chopped in a blur then began to boil water, add stock and vegetables. The veal was added along with crushed cloves of garlic, he boiled noodles and he watched the humiliation of his boogeyman.

Raff held his sore arm as Jeyne groveled at his feet. He was calmer and he looked down at the girl and was relieved to see he stopped before real damage was done. He made sure to keep away from her head and neck and only in a few places did he break skin. Her legs, stomach, back and arms have black or purple chain link striped that wound around her thin frame. He rolled his shoulder and massaged his arm before he knelt down and picked Jeyne up. She cried and he squeezed her against his chest.

"Hush, I'm not angry anymore. You took it well, I'll let you have something to feel better. Then you can even have a bath tonight for being a good girl." He cooed at her as Jeyne tried to take what comfort she could. Jeyne cuddled into Raff and remembered that it was over and went as silent as she could. He entered the kitchen hearing Polivar's voice to ask for something for his little pet. He had heard the commotion coming from the kitchen earlier but wasn't able to stop his own rage to see what was happening.

"What the fuck did I miss in here? Polivar, give me something for Jeyne." Raff sat in a chair keeping Jeyne on his lap, letting her lean against him. Polivar had just directed his now stoned and fast flying pet towards the counter. Raff took in the sight of Tickler cleaning what looks like glass, blood and then he grimaced. "What the fuck? Who came on the floor?" Polivar handed him two pills and beer. Raff put the pills in Jeyne's mouth, then tilted the bottle so she could swallow them.

"There, lay your head on my shoulder and let that work. Good girl." Raff told her and gently petted her long hair as she trembled in pain. "Well, Francis here decided my Piggy was his personal fuck toy. Cut Piggy's face to hell and nearly caused the boy to need a colostomy bag. Hear that, you degenerate! You fucking rancid pus filled pimple? Almost made him need to shit in a bag, what the fuck is wrong with you? Six stitches asshole. You remember what I said I'd do if my slave needed stitches up his ass, Francis?"

Tickler stood up warily and growled out, "Don't fucking call me that. That isn't my name anymore. I'll pay the bill when Qyburn sends it and I won't fuck your pet anymore. Now l cleaned the mess and am going out for a drink. So fuck you." He stomped towards the hall but Polivar sent out one leg, making him stumble. "No. We aren't fucking done, Francis. I told you before not to touch Piggy and you ignored me. SO maybe you need fucking incentive to listen. Polivar stood up and started to try and circle Tickler, who crouched and followed him.

Raff smirked and looked down at Jeyne, who's eyes were starting to glaze a little. "Feeling better?" Jeyne nodded and timidly peeked up at her Master. He nodded and stood up, carrying her over to where the boy was cooking. "If she isn't too stoned for it, have her help you. If she is too fucked up, have her just stand here." Raff whispered to the cringing boy as he got close. Hotpie nodded and gave Jeyne a whisk and a bowl of pesto sauce. "Here, do this for me." Jeyne began to whisk as she joined Hotpie in pretending not to watch Tickler's punishment.

Tickler groaned when Raff came to the other side and blocked off the other exit to the room. "That is the exact shit I was thinking you'd do to my girl if given the chance. Now that I know you didn't honor Polivar's wishes, it makes me nervous, buddy. Nervous that you might even THINK to touch Jeyne. What happened? Did you run out of whores that would let you touch them you fucking troll? Huh? No late night girls walking home from work that you could snatch downtown? Or did Ramsay hunt them all already? Afraid to challenge the north men for their women, is that is Francis?" "STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Screamed Tickler as he threw himself at Raff.

Polivar came up behind him and punched his kidneys before getting the Tickler in a headlock. It took both Raff and Polivar to get Tickler over the table and his pants ripped down. "Francis, this is to help remind you what will happen if you fuck with our pets. We will fuck with you." Polivar snapped for HotPie to give him cooking oil and a glove that they use for washing dishes. Polivar liberally poured oil over the glove after he put it on.

Then he proceeded to shove his fist up Tickler's ass with a grimace of amused disgust on his face. "Hey it's my first time too, asshole and you didn't even tell me I was pretty." He joked as the man screamed in pain and humiliation. Raff was kneeling on Tickler's back to keep him flat on the table. "Good thing this is one of those butcher block things or we'd be on the floor. Then we could shove one of the table legs up his ass." Raff laughed and Polivar grinned twisting his fist the way he saw Tickler twisting himself in Piggy.

"How is that, dear? Is that good for you, Francis? Yeah this should make you feel like a properly fucked whore. This is fun, you are right, I love how you scream kind of like a little girl, Francis. Are you deep down a little girl, honey? Want me to give you a kiss, honey?" Polivar ripped his bloody fist out of Tickler. "Do not ever touch my boy again, or next time, I'll make sure you need a colostomy bag. Count yourself lucky that Gregor likes you so much or I'd do so much fucking worse."

"Piggy, throw this glove out. Then clean off this table and finish cooking. You and Jeyne can have full plates, even seconds tonight." Polivar felt generous and beamed as Tickler staggered to his feet. The man pulled up his pants then staggered out the door. "Better see the doc. Looks like you might need some stitches." Raff called after him, laughing. The boy threw the glove away and cleaned the table. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Master." Polivar gave the boy a playful rub of his hair. "Good Piggy." The boy looked up at the man who just destroyed the boogeyman and smiled. "Yes Master." Piggy replied and went to stir the pasta.

Rickon was not only tired and freaked but he was starving. He has heeded his brothers words and stayed on the train even during the breaks. But he was simply too hungry to keep his word. It was nearly dark out, he has been on this stupid train for hours. When it stopped and another fifteen minute break was announced, Rickon got off the train.

There was a small cafe that sold cheeseburgers and soda which Rickon made a beeline for. He ate and drank while standing, sick of sitting. A man approached silently and looked about to make sure that the other tired passengers were paying no attention. One hand on the boys' mouth, an arm wrapped around the boy and a moment later he was gone as if he was never there.

Chapter Text

Rickon had gone to the circus with his family when he was five years old. He has never forgotten it, not any detail and when he is under stress, it surges forth. The cloying smells of cotton candy, burnt popcorn, nuts and elephant shit. The rumble of the crowd, creaking of wooden benches. Shadows surge here and there and above is the yellow linen of a tent that is blocking the sun.

But as much as Rickon loves playing in dirt and leaves, climbing trees with Bran and fake sword fighting with Arya, he was intrigued. All of the others have been here before and described such amazing feats! It was finally his turn and Rickon licked a snow cone holding a blue flashlight that had batteries already living on borrowed time.

The elephants, horses, tigers and monkeys did not disappoint. Sequined men and women flew high above and created a dance on a tightrope. It was interesting, but Rickon's eyes were already closing. He had fun, so much and the colors were starting to get jarring, the crowd too shrill. He felt a bit ill from the hotdog and he wanted to rest for a bit.

Then a terrible sleep shattering honking began, a terrible chorus of high pitched giggling and deep sadistic chuckling. Rickon opened his eyes wide and discovered his first true terror. The painted faces, the fake fuzzy big hair, the greasy, creasing fake smiles.

He had screamed at the top of his lungs, climbed, scrambled, kicked his father in the face nearly breaking his nose. Rickon was blind in hysterical panic. Many hands tried to grab at him, voices trying to call to him but it was the CLOWNS they were trying to EAT HIM! It took the family a half an hour to find him. Rickon was under the car shaking, crying and panting.

When his father looked under the car, Rickon thought it might be a clown. He had pissed himself and fainted. When he woke up, he was in the car, wrapped in blanket without anything but his shirt on. His brother Robb was holding him tightly. All the kids had their eyes staring coldly towards the front seat. Rickon's parents were looking only forward as his father drove them home. 

When Rickon was grabbed at the train station he was too stunned to do anything. His first thought was it was a fucking clown but he saw a real hand. Clowns wear gloves. It didn't help his panic any when a bag was put over his head and he was tossed into a van and restrained. The only conversation was the man made a shushing sound when Rickon tried to talk or resist.

During the ride, he heard nothing but the road underneath him, cars passing by. The man had duct taped his hands and and ankles. Then to Rickon's great confusion the man gave him a nice pat on the cheek as if to reassure him. "Ah fuck...not a clown but a, listen, I have don't want to do this! Hey my uncle can help you get anything you want okay? Peytr? Ever hear of him? Hey, stop!"

The man had begun to make a grunting sound and tap at the boy's lips under the bag. Rickon gagged at the fingers and stopped talking. The fingers went away. A door slammed, the engine turned and Rickon was off to the circus in his panicked mind. So they drove and Rickon's mind replayed not just the circus, but the time his brothers forced him to watch a movie of killer clowns. They were just having a little fun in their mind, all the way until one part where Rickon pissed the couch while hyperventilating.

Cat nearly murdered Jon and it was one of the few times that Rickon ever saw his mother beat the hell out of Robb, her favorite. She replaced the couch and made the boys burn the movie while Rickon watched. "There. The clowns are gone, Rickon. Say it." Rickon would parrot her words but the clowns were already in his head.

The van stopped, the door slid open and the same big rough hands yanked him out of the van and tossed him down onto a soft rubber thing. Rickon waited, trying not to whimper, hoping not to die today just because he took a break from the train. The hood was ripped off and even though it was dark, he still squinted. A small lantern gave some weak light and Rickon looked around at the small camp.

Then he heard the sound, the honk. OH NO NO NONONO, CAN'T BE THAT! Rickon slowly looked to see two clowns emerging from the woods. One gave a deep throaty chuckle and other had a high pitched giggle. He screamed, trying to back away and he pissed himself. "GET AWAY FROM ME! NO, YOU WON'T FUCKING EAT ME! GET BACK FROM ME!"

Then the clowns slumped to the ground laughing and removed their faces. Rickon thought they were peeling another layer of hell to show him and he screamed again. And stopped, staring, panting, trying to not die of a fucking heart attack as Jojen and Meara were apparently dying of the sadistic joy of a well played prank.

Their "nanny" of a sorts was standing nearby. Hodor was quite large but he was also simple and mostly mute. He could say his name but that seemed to be the extent of his speaking skills. That explained the strange way Hodor tried to comfort and quiet him. "You. Fucking. Assholes." Rickon sobbed and felt the humiliation nearly drown him. "Since your good friend Bran's dead you decide torture me. Nice. Real fucking nice. And he told you my secret about clowns, even better. Real funny, guys. Asshats."

"Aww..don't be like this, kiddo. We are fucking saving your ass..we just wanted a little fun first. Your own brother would have loved this prank and you know it!" Jojen grinned as he cut Rickon loose from the tape.

"Bran, Meara and I had a kind of pact. My sister and I promised your brother that we would watch over you, protect you. This was right after he found out the South was coming here. I think you were the only one he ever really loved...even if he did tell us about your fear of clowns. We saw what your brothers were trying to do. If we saw it, so did others and you never would have made it to Jon's friend."

Meara came a bit closer and gave an amused sneer. "Not to mention, you know that you walked around clutching all that cash in your bare fucking hand? Between the lost little boy look and the wad of might have been stuck in a ring of fucking robbers, pedophiles and enemies of your family, all killing each other to get a chance at you, sweet tender boy meat. Idiot. So here we are, here you are and we are about to shut down camp and keep driving for a bit. Uh...yeah, we didn't have a chance to grab your luggage so...we can find you some clothes."

Meara and Jojen grinned while Rickon got out of his wet clothes while loudly cursing them.  

Jon hung up the phone and stared blearily at Robb. They had come home, "discovered" Rickon missing and told Ned. He has been out with his men looking for him. Cat had called everyone who knew her son and summoned Petyr with instructions to find her boy with any and every resource he had. Then she stormed out of the house and headed toward the Lannisters home. The boys took the chance to hide in a rarely used den with their father's best whiskey. Then they waited the time it would take for Rickon to reach Sam, they sipped their whiskey and waited for a phone call.

As soon as the ring tone started, both grinned with buzzed grins. Jon answered, then Sam used words he wasn't expecting. "I have searched everywhere. The train got here a hour ago, Jon. He wasn't on it. The conductor says he hasn't seen him since they stopped briefly near Oldtown. I'm sorry. I will search as much as I can but that was the last place he was seen."

Robb stared at Jon as he repeated what Sam had said. "Oh gods, what did we do? Oldtown? That is going to take us at least two hours to get there. We have to sober up fast and go find Rickon. Hurry, come on...right now!" Robb yanked Jon out of the chair and dragged him towards the stairs. They almost made it to the door when Cat appeared before them in her flowing robe that made her look like some lady from another time era.

"Where are you two going? And why do you both smell like your father's whiskey? Instead of being out helping your father search for your little brother this is what you do, Robb? How could you? Go to bed and be prepared to explain this behavior to myself and your father in the morning." Whiskey has given the usual promised bravado and the boys were full of it.

"Oh yeah? Well, what about you, Mother? Do I see that Valium and wine glaze in your eyes? Why aren't YOU out looking for your son?" Robb sneered and Jon snorted, patting Robb on the back in approval. Cat stood at her full height, her sharp chin rose higher and ice broke through the drug haze in her eyes.

"Excuse me?  How dare you question me? I spent all day using my connections to find him! Your father and divide our resources. And I owe you no explanations on anything I do in my life, young man. Now, I want to go to bed so I can be ready for this wedding party tomorrow. You are drunk and need to get your ass to bed. Take the bastard with you." Cat snapped and turned to leave the room.  Jon suddenly broke, it all just broke.

"You fucking heartless cunt." Cat froze, Robb froze and Jon took one step forward his hands curling into fists. Very slowly, they could almost hear the creak of her tendons, Cat turned her head. "What did you say?" Her voice was soft and inquiring as if she misunderstood. Jon couldn't take the out, he can't ever again.

"I said you are a fucking heartless cunt. Your own son is missing and your fucking social status matters more. I don't feel so bad about your shitty stepmother skills now. You sold your daughter, lost another, watched a son die and now you get ready for a fucking party rather than save yet another of your children. Is it that you really only don't give a shit about anyone but yourself, or do you at least have an actual feeling of love for Robb? Why is he really your favorite? Does that mean he is the one kid you have that you would protect?"

Cat flew for Jon and Robb slammed into her,knocking her into the wall. "No. I won't watch you hurt him anymore. Stay there or go the fuck to bed, Mother. Jon is the only friend I have left, thanks to you and father. So you are not to use him as my whipping boy anymore. Understand me?" She stared at Robb then she stood straight, fixing her robe.

"Just like Ned, the both of you. Look at your drunken, judgemental faces, all full of whiskey and ignorance. Let me tell you grunting fucking apes why I must attend this party. Because Tywin and Cersei who murdered Bran will be there. Because MY DAUGHTERS will be there and so will Petyr and Varys. All of our enemies in a group and at least one of them will have heard something. And at least one of them probably is responsible for it. So while your father loads the guns and tries to track Rickon, I will be finding out who took him or at least a fragment of detail that someone saw. Which will help your father track him if not find him. Do you understand all that? Or was that too many words, gentlemen?"  

While she spoke, Cat had strode forward and both boys backed up, staggering a bit. Robb stopped and sneered. "Your daughters, you consider them your enemies now? Such a good mother you are." The slap was fast and hard and Robb grunted with it. "I love my daughters no matter what. Don't you ever accuse me of such a thing! Go to bed before I do something we'll both regret." With a drunken, angry grin Robb shook his head.

"No. I am going to find my little brother. I'll get coffee on the way, don't worry I won't embarrass our sick fucked up family by getting a ticket." Cat shoved Robb in the chest. "You aren't going anywhere but your damn room! You are drunk and acting like a disrespectful brat. Go to bed!" She raised her fist this time and was stunned when Jon's hand wrapped around it. "Don't ever hit any of us again." He warned and moved when she tried to attack him.

Jon yanked Cat's arm up behind her back as she snarled at him, trying to claw him with her nails but Robb grabbed that free hand. Together, they wrestled her towards the hallway. They nearly carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom. There they tossed her roughly upon her bed. "Good night, Mother. I know where the last place is Rickon was seen, I'll go get him. Stay here and stop being such a bitch." Cat was about to launch herself at hem but paused. "You know where he is? How do you know? Oh gods, I know that look, what did you do? Where is Rickon?"

Cat staggered to the floor and headed towards her favorite son. "Robb, what did you do?" Robb tried to get the door shut and locked but she threw herself against it. "What did you do? Bastard, what did you talk my poor boys into!" With a bitter laugh, Robb got the door firmly locked then leaned against it.

"It was my idea, not Jon's. I made him call his friend Sam to take care of Rickon for us. Do you know why? Jon told me...while we were drinking one night, his tongue got looser. He cried and told me what you have done to him for years. You always treated us coldly, you always treated Jon with abuse. We all felt that abuse but never as much as he did. And then could you hurt him like that? You did sell my sisters, you let my brother die, you let another girl here die if you didn't outright kill her. I am saving Rickon from you, Mother. I am doing what you and father can't bring yourselves to do. Take care of my brother and sisters."


Chapter Text

Cersei was rattled and feeling dissed all at the same time. Dusten couldn't have been happier.

Dusten had been in the living room when Cat Stark came storming in to confront her. "Do you have him? Did you take Rickon, did your father? Cersei, please, you already have my girls why would you need a young boy? We had decided we were even, remember? You cannot break your word to me!  Give him back!"

Cersei waved Dusten back and approached the distraught woman.  "I swear that I haven't plotted or heard anything of hurting Rickon. Why would I do that? It would send you after Tommen and I won't lose my little boy. I can call father and Varys."

Cat had paced while Cersei contacted her father and Varys. Both of course have heard nothing but Varys offered to keep his ear to the ground. "He ran away, Cat. Kids do that. Hell, my daughter ran away at least four times on me when she was little. Surely, at least one or two of your children have ran off on your in childhood angst before." Cersei poured a glass of champagne and handed it to Cat.

"Of course. But this is different. Rickon has been depressed, sad and panicky but not angry. They run when they are mad, that is what children do. Rickon was scared to even go to the park on his own recently. So why would he just take off? And we have already checked the places our kids usually ran to. And Petyr who hears everything, has heard nothing. It makes no sense, Cersei. All I can think is...if it isn' or your father, it could be any of our enemies. It could be some drifter that likes little boys!"

It took two glasses of champagne and Cersei's best wordsmith talents to calm the woman down. Dusten watched in admiration as Cersei managed to soothe the woman into leaving. "I added a Valium into her second drink." Cersei muttered to Dusten afterwards as she noticed he was watching her with amused admiration.

Dusten nodded and gave a boyish grin. "That was brilliant, Mrs. Baratheon. That woman was ready to rip out your throat, I thought and you just made a tiger into a kitten." Cersei smirked then lightly commented, "This is the first time you have spoken to me, Dusten. I was beginning to think you were a mute."

She frowned at her phone. Texting Ned's driver, Cersei expected to recieve a message of where he would pick her up. Instead a cold quick text that said he could no longer see her and to please not contact him again.  Cersei snarled and threw her phone at the couch as she grabbed the whole bottle of champagne and drank from it.

"Whoa there, is something the matter, Mrs. Baratheon?" Dusten came forward with concern on his face. Cersei glared at him and ordered, "Don't call me that, makes me sound older than I am! My name is Cersei, you may use it respectfully." Lowering his head, Dusten said, "Of course I would be respectful, Cersei." He made sure his voice was velvet and low, but with some reverence to it. He let her name roll off her tongue like an endearment.

An hour later Cersei was fucking him. Dusten discovered the true joys of a cougar. She knew how to do things that made him actually weep and beg her for more. Her legs never ended and they wrapped around him like a vine with strength that the boys would all envy. Cersei rode him hard and put him away wet. When she finally was sated and stood to put on her robe, Dusten's body felt like jello with a growing ache in muscles he wasn't aware he had until now.

"Here, get dressed and drink a glass of water to hydrate yourself, dear boy. I would offer you a proper drink but you are on duty." Dusten dressed slowly as he tried to pull himself together and downed the offered water. Cersei smiled, touched his cheek and gave a bit of a leer as she looked him up and down. "You'll do. A bit overeager but we can fix that. You do cry so pretty though..."

She dismissed him so she could shower but as he turned to walk away, Cersei gave a small slap to his ass. Dusten turned red and escaped into the hallway fast. He felt like a horny teenager that just lost his virginity to an older lady, like in those cheesy porn films. Holy fuck what is he getting himself into?

Sandor stared at Arya and nodded. "Now you look like a proper young lady. A pretty dainty thing. Are you?" Arya shook her head. "No. I'm not. I can fight and I am armed." The large man walked around Arya and said, "Show me where your weapons are." The girl lifted her skirt to show the small taser attached to her thigh by her garter and stockings. She pulled the small blade out of her bra then a small folded rod out of her little purse. The rod turns into a larger baton when flicked open.

"Good. And is that enough to get through the party if someone attacks? Do you think that is enough for you to have with you?" Sandor asked as he continued to pace around her. Arya seemed to think on that and shook her head. "I cannot use a knife in a gunfight. Should I bring a gun too?"

Sighing, Sandor shook his head then whacked hers. "Don't say stupid things. Of course you are not allowed to bring a gun into a wedding party! No one but the guards will be allowed guns. Even Tickler will not have a gun since he is in the wedding party."

Gregor opened the door to the training room and leaned in the doorway, watching.

"It is highly doubtful someone will shoot you, Brat. It is very likely you could be attacked though. Everyone knows that you are in my company some will want to test that. Almost everyone knows you are Ramsay Bolton's wife now and the Boltons have plenty of enemies of their own. You are a target. And looking like that you are an inviting target, you look like an easy mark. Are you an easy target, Brat?" He nodded at Sandor who attacked Arya.

She found herself on the ground, her blade at Sandor's throat but a fraction after he already had her head in his hands ready to snap her fragile neck. "Nope, not ready. You are an easy target and a dead girl. Sandor, get her up and work on her for tomorrow's party so she won't disappoint me by dying. Careful, no bruising anywhere that can be noticed, Arya has to look like a pretty girl on the outside." 

Arya learned that her high heels were weapons. She learned how to fight in a dress. Her purse was a weapon, the thin chain-link straps to it were a garrote. Gregor came by before he retired for the evening and watched in approval as Arya managed to knock Sandor to the ground and taser him.

"Good. Go to bed both of you. Big day tomorrow. Nice job, Brat. Sandor, maybe we found your talent finally. Training others might be your shining light after all." The words to both were said without any real inflection but both of them headed to bed in a daze of contentment. "I think he may actually be starting to value us, to like us."

Arya looked up at Sandor with a satisfied smirk and he shook his head. "Don't get ahead of yourself, brat." Sandor warned as he shoved the girl into her room. But he grinned as he entered his own.

Sansa was brushing her hair, humming to herself when there was a knock on her door. "Come in." She called out and turned, forming a timid but welcoming smile to her lips. It was Raff and a delicate but scared looking young woman.

"Sansa, this is Shae. She is going to be your new maid. I promise you she is very well behaved and already understands the job. Say hello to your new mistress, Shae." Raff's voice was respectful as he spoke to Sansa. When he spoke to the girl there was a command in those words that clearly terrified the girl. "It is nice to meet you, Miss Stark. I am honored to be chosen to work for you. I promise to be a very good maid."

Smiling, Sansa approached the girl and shook her hand. "You may call me Sansa. I am very glad to meet you, Shae and I am sure we will get along fine." Looking up at Raff, Sansa quietly asked, "How is Jeyne, Raff? Is she still alive? I would really like to visit with her sometime."

With a small grimace, Raff replied, "Jeyne is fine. I don't think a visit would be a very good idea yet. Perhaps soon, maybe that will be my wedding gift to you, Sansa. But Jeyne is rather...high-strung these days. I need to prepare her for such a stressful thing as a visit with someone from her past. I am sure you understand." 

Nodding, hiding her indignation and rage, Sansa smiled at Raff. "For my wedding gift then. I will expect a visit with my dearest friend, Jeyne for my present from you. I will hold you to it, friend." Raff smiled back.

"I am so glad that you consider me a friend, Sansa. I am your friend, you know. We men are here not just to protect you. You can speak with us and we would be honored to always help you in any possible way we can. I hope you remember that. I promise, you shall see Jeyne as a wedding gift."

It was worth the trouble of having Jeyne get triggered seeing Sansa if it gained the girl's trust and friendship. Gregor and Tywin will be impressed if Raff can become this girl's confidant. Sansa sent the girl to see the head housekeeper for uniforms and dinner as well as lodging.    

"Raff, I do have a concern that I would like to share with...somebody. But it is so minor that I would hate to upset Joff or Cersei so close to the wedding by speaking of it." Sansa wrung her hands and looked mildly disturbed.

Leaning closer with a look of sympathy upon his handsome face, Raff asked, "Sansa, what is it? Let me help you, I'm sure I can sort this out for you. What is this concern?" Sansa looked down as she sat on her duvet and then peeked up at Raff.

"It is probably nothing and I am just being played for the fool I am. Margeary seemed perfect to be a bridesmaid and she is! I know what Cersei and Joff think of her but I figured maybe she just needs a friend and a chance. But last night when she came over to help me with some decorations...she drank a little too much. Margeary told me how she had wanted to get Joff back but that I stole him by being weak and a victim. That she wished she could Joff pay for blowing her off."

Shrugging then wiping a tear from her eye, Sansa said, "I know it was the wine talking, but she sounded...angry and spiteful." Raff patted her shoulder and sat next to her. Raff looked kindly at her and reassured, "I have known that girl for a long time. She can be a mean girl, but I have never seen her hurt anyone. If she ever does threaten you or make you feel unsafe, you let me know and I'll speak with Margeary."

Sansa nodded and sniffed. "I am sure I am just being a silly and nervous bride. Well, thank you very much, I feel better knowing that someone else can make me feel safe. Thank you for letting me know she is safe. I will take very good care of my new maid, I will try and keep Joff from her."

Raff nodded and got up to leave. "She is very lucky that she has you as an employer. Shae is grateful for this opportunity and I am sure she will bend over backwards to please you." Sansa smiled as she walked Raff to her door. "I am sure she will. Thank you again and I am so glad I can consider you a friend."


Chapter Text

Loras winced as Mareary snapped, "You are a fucking mess. Look at this, you didn't even button your shirt properly or bother to brush your hair! Thank Gods, I came home early enough to check on you! Hurry, Rick doesn't like to wait!"

Loras snarled back, "Karstark can fucking wait in his fancy car until you are ready. And look at yourself while you are at it. You might look amazing, you might be on the arm of a rich fiance again...but if you look like the cat that ate the canary, Cersei will target you all day and night. If you outshine the bride and in law lioness, you'll lose status again. Watch how fast vain, rich Rick will drop you then."

The twins bickered the entire time that Margeary fixed Loras's suit and hair. She had to powder his face and add a little blush, he was so pale and a light oil sheen was always on his skin. Even in her triumph of another conquest, Margeary was afraid for her brother. Loras has never lost control this badly until grandmother left them here.

She was going to ask Rick to send Loras to a detox and rehab once she felt Rick was hers enough do anything. In the meantime, everyday it was a fear to come home and find her brother dead from an overdose. Or that he goes into prostitution for drugs and gets murdered in a dirty alley somewhere.

Loras was terrified and ashamed deep down inside and the bickering covered it just enough. If anyone found out what he did. Before Gregor let the boys kill him they would ask, who, how and why. And how to explain it was the infamous Ramsay Bolton when he hasn't a single wound upon him? Ramsay didn't have to threaten to flay him or hunt down his sister. No, he just had to hold a bag of drugs out to a needy junkie.

Loras told him everything he knew about the boys schedules and the door locks and codes, which wasn't that much. He mainly knew Polivar's schedule but he knew when he saw them come on and off shift when he was over. His head got jumbled and he sobbed. Ramsay was kind enough to let Loras take a little sniff of coke.

It wasn't much but it was enough for Loras to remember what he needed to. Ramsay carefully took Loras through it over and over. Every visit he had there, what he saw, what was said, every detail he could remember. Then Ramsay rewarded him by handing him an Oxycontin for drawing a detailed map of the inside of the house as far as he had seen it.

"Hey, open your eyes wide, you need some eye drops. All red and teary, gods, Loras, take one of the happier drugs before we go, alright?" Grumbled Margeary as she tilted Loras's head back. "Loras...I love you even if you are an idiot. You know you are really fucked up on this shit, right? You were almost out before I left yesterday with Rick. Now I come home and you have a full baggy of major goodies. How did you get that, please tell me you didn't rob someone?"

Loras muttered, "I love you too. No, I didn't rob anyone. I earned it and it isn't your worry. Leave it alone and finish so I can get some coke. That's my happy, energetic one...and I'll bring a few oxy's plus a joint in case I need to come down a little." Loras wouldn't say more, he couldn't imagine how his sister would look at him if she knew he basically just helped the north attack the south.

Gregor woke up and stretched as the alarm stopped rubbing gently along his arm. The alarm then stood up and went to become a barista. As Gregor drank his half soy, pumpkin latte with two shots of caramel, the barista became a chef. He showered and put on his silk robe. The chef is now a waiter.

She quietly serves a small fruit salad, an egg white omelet full of ham, chopped peppers and stuffed full of sharp cheddar cheese. A freshly made smoothie full of fruit and vegetables was the final touch. The waiter stepped back, waited to see if there would be further orders. When there were none, the waiter walked away to become a dishwasher. 

When he finished eating, Gregor stretched and went to dress to see his company. His clothing was already set out, not just his morning sweats for the men. The suit he would wear later for the party, his jewelry and his weaponry were set out, ready for him. Grinning in satisfaction, he decided it was a great apology gift after all. Raff had given him a girl for an assistant and Gregor was hesitant to let anyone into his home, even a slave.

"I'll take her but I can't promise she will live long." He had grumbled, staring down at the silent girl who was standing next to Raff. "I swear she won't be a problem, Gregor. This girl is special...from the day we obtained her, she has never spoken unless you speak to her first. She has never once not done exactly as told. Training her was easy, look, she hasn't a lash on her or a mark, she has NEVER needed it. And I am telling you that is not normal in this business. I was going to try for a real big price for her..but Sir, I would rather give her to you as an apology for my actions."

Shrugging, Gregor had given in. "Fine. Don't blame me if she dies. Everyone makes a mistake sometime. What is your name, girl?" The girl raised her head very slightly and in a clear calm voice replied, "My name is Waif, Sir."

Gregor was truly impressed that the silent girl just always seemed to know what was needed, what should be done. His house was clean, ordered and his meals on time. His nails and skin were perfect, the girl actually asked permission to work on them! He did of course fuck her but he was careful not to break anything.

He wanted to have her massage his body later and she couldn't do that if she had broken bones. The girl was not only responsive during the sex, she actually seemed to climax. He decided he liked this gift and Raff was forgiven. He headed out into the early morning light to see all his children in the line.

The second he was close enough, he scanned the faces, Gregor knew something was going on. Tickler was looking straight ahead and was bright red. His body was held in a way that indicated an injury.  The others were either staring at the injured and embarrassed man with sadistic amusement or total disgust. Gregor headed towards them and knew that they have not seen him yet.

They couldn't have otherwise Arya wouldn't have dared to walk over and spit in Tickler's face. Sandor pulled her back and Tickler seemed to yell something at her. The others were laughing but not at the brat, no, at Tickler.

"Oh, this should be delightful! Is it story time, children? Why is my best boy at the bottom of the bully bucket today, young dearlings?" They all jumped at the booming voice as Gregor came into view.

He put his hands behind his back and strolled along the line with a smile that made his bleached teeth nearly blind them in the sun. Gregor smiling was rarely a good thing and he watched in happiness as they all did truly seem like squirming scared children now. He walked over to the only one that was still a teenager.

Looming over her, Gregor boomed his words in sarcastic cheer. "Brat, you didn't like whatever that story was, did you? Spitting in Tickler's face? What could have made you do such a rude thing? Come on, tell your Uncle Gregor what happened." He leaned down and cupped his ear.

Tickler dropped his head and groaned as Arya stammered out the story she heard this morning. "I am sorry that I spit in his face, Sir. But HotPie is my friend, even if he is Polivar's slave. It angers me that Tickler would abuse my friend like that."

Gregor stood up and looked down at Brat without expression. "It is up to Polivar to get revenge for his own pet, which he did. However, you were trying to stand up for Polivar's property, there is no rule against that. And you didn't cause Tickler an injury that prevents him from carrying out his duties. It is forgotten but don't think it allows you to take further action against him." Arya thanked him and Gregor walked over to stand in front of Polivar. "Did you gain compensation for your property's damage?"

Polivar nodded then in a voice way too dry, he replied, "Yes Sir. He will pay the medical bills when they arrive as well." Gregor gave a nod. "Good enough. Now, did you injure my man in a way that prevents him from his job?" Gregor's voice was lower and more menacing now. Polivar winced a little then shook his head fast.

"No Sir. I was careful about that. He got a few stitches from Qyburn up his ass but the doctor said he could still work." Gregor tilted his head. "Did he say he could work if he took painkillers, or did he say he could work but had limitations?" Polivar began to sweat a little. "Uh..with painkillers and very few limitations."

Gregor stood up with a sigh and walked over to Raff. "And since you were involved let me ask you. Did the doctor provide Tickler with the medicine needed?" Raff nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, an antibiotic, a muscle relaxant and codeine." Gregor leaned down into Raff's now pale face. "And how many of those medications did Polivar take away from Tickler? Because it is clear by the looks of him that he has very little medication in his system. I can see his pain from here."

Raff took a deep breath. "Polivar left him just the antibiotic, Sir." "Good boy, Raff. Now, really open those listening ears, okay? Next question is very important, sweetling. But I know you can do it." Gregor pinched Raff's cheek painfully. "I am so happy with your present. I am happy with you again. Don't mess that up now. Ready? What limitations were placed upon Tickler while he heals?"  

With an apologetic look towards Polivar, Raff answered. "He cannot do much physical fighting for at least five days so not to break his stitches. But he can still attend the party, he can shoot, use other weaponry..." Raff trailed off weakly as Gregor stared him down.

"I see. What is the rule? Let me see if I can help you all recall it. The rule is...we do not injure each other in a way that will impact working for me in any capacity, that I need. Polivar and Raff, you have broken my rule. There must be punishment."

Polivar and Raff stared miserably at their feet, waiting to hear their discipline which surely will be terrible. Tickler was trying to hide the first grin he felt on his lips since they attacked him. Gregor stared at the boys and waited until they were squirming and nearly sweating before speaking. He suddenly received a strange picture in his head.

Waif outside maybe trying to spruce up those imported exotic plants and flowers that Gregor won't let the gardeners touch. Then Tickler showing up and breaking Gregor's new perfect pet. He opened his mouth and words he wasn't intending to say came out. "You will both recieve only half your pay for the five days it take Tickler to heal. During those five days you will also each take on at least two of Tickler's shifts so he may rest and heal."

Then as the boys looked up in relieved surprise, Gregor got in Polivar's face. "And give him his medication back immediately. Go. Get. It. Now." As Polivar ran as fast as he could towards the Barracks, Gregor finally walked over to Tickler. Now there was some emotion on his face, it was disgust and some anger. Tickler seemed to wilt like those plants as Gregor sneered down at him.

"You not only used his property without permission, you broke it. You will indeed pay the medical bills and if there is any further damage from what you have done you will pay for that as well. You broke a rule of mine too, didn't you? We do not steal, break, use or abuse each others property. Do you recall that rule, Tickler?"

Nodding miserably, Tickler moaned out, "Yes Sir. I am sorry for breaking the rule." Judging by Gregor's face, not only was Tickler no longer the favorite, he was not going to get a easy punishment like the other two. The smile came flashing back and the cheerful voice boomed.

"Since I am a benevolent man, your punishment can wait until after the party tonight and after the wedding tomorrow. So after the wedding tomorrow, you will report to me in the training room. That is enough time to heal a little and you can even take your medication before you show."

Gregor gave a look that was supposed to indicate innocence and sainthood. The entire company shivered as one and Tickler damn near cried. A large hand clamped down hard on Tickler's shoulder, causing him to briefly cry out.

"Don't worry, boy. We won't do anything to your torn asshole. And it won't be anything that will prevent your work, as limited as it may be." Tickler eagerly took the medication that Polivar came running back with. Gregor moved away and stood in the middle of the line.

"Now, today Brat and Tickler will be in the party, they can be vigilant, but they will not be actively working. Sandor and Polivar will patrol the garden and the outside of the house. Dusten, you are to guard the family. I will be wherever I am needed. I expect to have excellent communication with all of you the entire time. There will be no problems, will there?" 

Ned swung the thick belt with all his might and Robb screamed. He stopped and rubbed his arm as he stared at Jon and Robb's bright purple asses. The boys were bent over the desk, crying and finally screaming when the belt came down. Cat was there and said quietly, "Ned, that is enough. They need to go to the wedding party today with us, at least for a small appearance."  Ned nodded and handed Cat the belt.

"You two are very fucking lucky that you have be in public today. Otherwise, once your asses were bloody, I would move on to your backs and thighs. I cannot believe what you have done. I cannot believe that you may have caused your own brother's kidnapping or murder! How stupid can you be? Get up and go get yourselves ready. When it is over, you are to come home and go to your rooms. Unless it is for work, you will not leave this house. Hear me? Move!" He watched as the boys scrambled to pull up their pants without crying out in pain and stagger fast from the room.

Running his hands through his hair, Ned tried to get control of himself. "I won't be going. You and the boys are going and try to find out any information you can. Roose is going to make a quick appearance, then meet me to continue looking. He gave me Locke to help and Jory with be with me. If you hear anything, no matter how absurd or useless, then text or call me right away."

Cat nodded and closed her eyes to prevent the stinging of tears. Rickon was too young to be lost in the world. How is her family just slipping away through her fingers?

"Just find him, Ned. Please, find my boy." Ned stood up and gave Cat a hug. "I will, we will. The boys were being foolish, surely Rickon just wandered off. Think about it, remember how many times the school called to say that they lost him on a field trip? He would wander off, right? And how many times have we taken him somewhere and he wandered away? We will find him. We always have." \

Cat rested her head briefly on Ned's chest. "How did we lose so much control over them, Ned? Why are we losing our family? It is all falling apart."

Ned grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away. He gave a few hard shakes then stared into Cat's eyes. "Hey! Stop that right now. We are not losing them. They are all confused, the Lannisters and Baratheon's have caused this. We can fix it. We aren't dead yet, are we? So stiff back, Cat. Where is that strong, cold, clever woman that I married?"

Cat's eyes grew stonier and her back became ramrod straight. "I'm sorry, you are right. I will make sure that if anyone has any information on our son, I will know of it soon enough. We shall get our boy and all the heavens and hells couldn't save anyone who might have dared to touch him."

Chapter Text

Robb sipped a glass of champagne and smiled widely at Ramsay Bolton and Theon Greyjoy. He wanted to kill Ramsay. No, Robb wanted to drown, resuscitate and beat  on him until Ramsay becomes unidentifiable then stuff him into a fucking cannon and blow the fucker into space. He leaned close and hissed through his jovial lips, "Why the living fuck would you bring him with you today of all fucking days? Are you trying to get Theon killed?"

Ramsay laughed as if Robb told a joke then quipped back,"My father would have thought it strange that I didn't bring my plus one, cocksucker. Can't kill the man tonight during the ruckus if he is paranoid with me, right? And hey, isn't your daddy looking nice and healthy. And I'll tell you, from what my friend told me, you and Jon got one hell of a strapping from daddy last night. Oh, don't look surprised of course father and I have turned half your staff. After your parents promised all those staunch middle class and lower class supporters that you would take the north back and didn't? Of course they turned to my family who kept trying to fight back."

Robb's smile started to go feral and Ramsay's became nearly clownish in his delight at riling Robb. Reek moaned softly then his eyes darted around the room, finding others that might look at any second. "Please, Master, folks are going notice his expression. I don't want anyone to get mad at you, Master." Reek whispered frantically in Ramsay's ear.

He was allowed in public to answer to Theon in public events like this, but Reek needed his Master to listen and not just knock him to the ground for audacity. "My mother and father are a tad stronger than your father, there are two of them. And I don't think killing them will really solve anything." Rob tried to look friendly, as if he wasn't fantasizing about taking a chainsaw to Ramsay.

With a gentle laugh, Ramsay took a step away and put his arm around Reek's waist. " Ah, Robb you are so interesting. Such a boy scout to the end, eh? It's alright, we can discuss that later, you fucking pussy.  My boy has his instructions on what to do if things go tits up. And I have no doubt that if I am unable to help him, you certainly will. Don't drink too much by the way, need to be sharp tonight. I'm taking Reek to go get something to eat."

Ramsay led his boy away and Robb tried with all his might not to shoot him. He and Ramsay both had hidden weapons. It turned out that Roose had a gardener in the Baratheon home that was his mole. Ramsay found this out when he was going through Roose's study to find out his father's exact schedule. Also how Ramsay discovered that most of the Stark servants were spies for his father.

Ramsay had gotten in touch with the gardener and explained what he wanted done, swearing it was Roose's orders. Without question of such a thing, the man took the two guns and hid them in the house. The servants bathroom had a water tank that could hold the guns and it did until early morning. Then a disguised Ramsay came in with the men delivering food, fresh produce, and several other items.

A good amount of the supplies were from Karstark farms. Not a man would have denied that Ramsay, a northern man, was anything but one of them. He retrieved the guns and slipped into the main house briefly. The two guns were put into a large urn that contained the ashes of Robert's brother. Then Ramsay left the way he had come in.

When Robb arrived he was checked by Gregor's man for guns and he was of course clean. Then he walked slowly around after greeting his sister. Pacing with his hands behind his back, he walked down a large hallway with some impressive artwork and stood near the urn. When Ramsay showed up not much later he did the same thing. Both men had a concealed gun and they don't believe it will matter about trying to leave with them.

This will be a bloodbath and there will be deaths on both sides probably. Robb can't understand how Ramsay could bring Theon into such a thing? Doesn't he understand Theon can't fight or defend himself after what Ramsay has done to him? That a stray bullet or an angry person grabbing Theon as a shield or even as a hostage against the Boltons?

Ramsay filled a plate of food for his pet and for himself. Then he went to sit at a table that only had two folks at it. Arya rolled her eyes and muttered, "Really? Don't you have assigned seating? You are supposed to sit with your father on the other side of the room." Tickler just grinned and leaned back in his chair. This was the most interesting thing that has happened so far. Gregor informed the men of Arya's marriage to Ramsay in case the boy ever tried to kidnap her or something.

Ramsay pushed his pet into a chair, put his plate in front of him then he sat next in the empty chair between Reek and Arya. "Well, this isn't your assigned seating either. As part of the actual wedding party, you are supposed to be at the long table ahead of us all. So we can all stare at you while we eat."

With a charming smile, Ramsay put his napkin in his lap and as he lifted his fork, he asked, "So...since we are all defying convention together, why not have nice conversation while we are at it?" Arya stared at him as if he were a cockroach crawling on her meal. "We have nothing to discuss. The weather, I guess. It is a nice day for this stupid bullshit. I am sure you agree. There, that was a lovely conversation, wasn't it?"

As Arya went to stand up, Ramsay grabbed her wrist. Freezing, horrified that Ramsay might cause a scene in front of Tickler, Arya bit out, "Let. Go. Of. My. Wrist." Ramsay smirked and changed his hold to a caress. Pulling her hand away, Arya growled with as much menace as she could without anyone noticing.

"Listen very carefully to me. In name only for political and loyalty purposes. I am not yours, I never will be a proper northern wife for you, Ramsay. It will never happen. I belong to Gregor Clegane, to the company of men I am loyal to. I will never belong to you. The very second the shit storm ends around here, I will divorce you and forget you ever existed."

Arya stormed away towards the long table and Tickler laughed at Ramsay's face as it tried to stay composed. "Brat is telling the truth. I don't think she would be a wife you would want to be asleep around." He stood up and walked away with a stoned, highly amused smile. It faded a little when he realized he had few to tell the story too.

None of the boys were really happy with him right now. Dusten was the most neutral so he went to him. After a few seconds of Dusten taunting him, he listened to Tickler's tale and laughed. "Wish I'd seen that. How much you want to bet that pissed Ramsay off enough for him to try and fuck with her later? Want to bet? Huh?" Arya glared at what she thought was the men making fun of her situation and then tried to pay attention to the mindless chatter around her.

Joff pouted slightly when Tickler continued to evade the table. He was bored and that was dangerous, something Tickler always warned him of. Reigning in these urges until they can be used. Finding smaller ways to release just enough of it to get through being in public. He can use his words to cut and torment until someone breaks or weep.

Sansa can be hurt in ways no one can see and that is what Joff's doing already. His hand was clamped around her silk nylon clad thigh. Underneath the layers of fancy dress, Joff's fingers dug hard into Sansa's muscle. It amused Joff to watch her attempt to continue a conversation with Margeary, even as her hand clenches hard upon her tea cup. She tries not to turn so pale, to not have her eyes fill with tears.

Margeary looked graceful and sexier than ever today. Joff fantasized about undressing Margeary and then burning her alive. This made his terrible grip turn to a caress in between Sansa's legs. Sansa kept her voice steady, even when Joff directed her hand into his lap. Margeary sipped her wine then looked mildly alarmed at Sansa.

"Oh dear. Sansa, your eyes are red and irritated. That won't do, you have to keep up looking like the little innocent angel bride you are. Here, I have some eye drops with me, honey. Let's head to the ladies room and I'll fix your eyes right up." Sansa was grateful and thrilled at Margeary's spontaneous offer.

Joff was about to deny it when his mother spoke up. "I agree. Sansa, the candle smoke must be torturing your poor eyes. If Margeary has eye drops, you should go apply them. There are many who are taking pictures of you. You cannot appear with red eyes like that. Please go repair yourself, dear."  

 Cersei has been keeping a hawk eye on that little cunt that always tries to steal something from everyone she meets. She would be damned if that little tart would get her hooks into Sansa, the poor sweet dumb thing. Joff sucked the life out of the girl, her spirit was gone and she was mainly Joff's puppet. Except Cersei saw how well the girl seemed to manage her boy when he was in trouble or making a faux pas of consequence. How sweetly and submissively she manages to turn him from his deadly focus.

That makes Cersei think...but then Sansa pays a price that makes everyone in the home shudder when the screaming begins. It can't be an act, why would Sansa ever bring such pain upon herself on purpose? Cersei certainly wouldn't have, not if Robert was having a truly dangerous most of Joff's moments.

Robert mainly would hit her, maybe make her piss blood for a week or have a bruised body that needed morphine shots so Cersei wouldn't scream while running a charity ball. It might be more extreme then say, what Cat probably received, but it wasn't anything as bad as what Sansa is going through.

There was one night where Joff had drank too much and began to torment poor Tommen. Cersei intervened and Joff came at her, spitting in her face as he called her a nosy fucking whore. Tickler had tried clearing his throat loudly but Joff was ignoring him. As much as Tickler has become a private friend of Joff's he was still an employee. Unless Joff tried to truly injure or kill Cersei, Tickler couldn't actually intervene. 

Sansa came to the rescue instead. She gently touched her fiance as she knelt before him, begging him in a sweet voice to please spend some time with her. So nervous about the wedding and afraid of embarrassing Joff. Sansa babbled these things until Joff looked down at her with a sneer. "You know my rules. You are allowed to sway me, but you still broke a rule to do it. You interrupted me, Sansa. Go upstairs and I'll punish you." 

This time the screaming changed after awhile. Cersei ran upstairs and saw Tickler standing in the hallway with a pale face. He was texting Qyburn and Gregor. It was Cersei herself who entered the room first and saw the poor girl hemorrhaging from some sickening, horrific looking device that had been inside of her.

Joff let himself be pushed aside by his mother and watched numbly as she shoved the sheets between Sansa's bloody legs and pressed hard. Sansa screamed again and Cersei spoke to her the way she would to Tommen. "I know it hurts, sweet girl. Don't worry, Qyburn is on his way, we can fix it. He will stop the bleeding and the pain. Hush and try to breath slow breaths, little dove. Deep breaths, slowly...good girl, just like that. Here is the doctor, I will hold your hand, I am with you."

And she was. Cersei made sure the doctor gave Sansa painkillers and she waited to hear if the girl would die. How would she explain to Cat that Cersei let Joff kill her eldest daughter? Once it was clear the girl would live, Cersei petted the girl's sweaty hair, crooning sweetly, waiting to hear if the girl was now barren.

How would she tell Cat that Joff ruined the girl for this marriage, this pact created by men who will no longer have the bond they need for this truce to hold? How does she explain to her father that her inept parenting of Joff caused her father's plan to falter in any way?

Qyburn gave several stitches to the girl then told Cersei and Joff that she could still be capable of pregnancy. Qyburn looked sternly at Joff then at Cersie, finally at Tickler. "This could have killed or or made her barren. If it happens again, it most certainly will do one of those two things. The girl cannot take anymore scarring inside her or she will not be able to have children. There are many other dangers her health faces if this type of device and abuse is done to her."

After the doctor told Joff that Sansa must not engage in sexual activity that involved her vagina for at least two weeks, the man left. Cersei stood up calmly and walked over to her son, her hand aching to hit his shocked face. "Son, you must take more care of your lovely submissive girl. She never meant to offend you, just help. Save this type of thing for your other girls, this one must conceive for you." She smiled sadly at Sansa then shuddered at the sight of that blood streaked metal nightmare on the nightstand.

So Cersei knew firsthand the type of abuse Sansa was receiving. No sane person would pretend a role that made them go through such a thing. Therefore she felt kindly towards this girl that she once viewed as a potential threat to her position with Joff, her special son. But now Cersei felt pity for the girl and wished to protect her as much as she can.

In this public setting where her son must be careful, Cersei made sure that Joff was overruled and Sansa went with Margeary to the ladies room to use the eye drops and fix her make up a little. Joff glared at his mother who smiled calmly back at him. "Sansa needed to fix herself up, sweetheart. Appearances must be kept, son." Cersei sat as straight and graceful as a queen as she sipped her wine and held court over ladies that came to speak to her.

Chapter Text

Ned crunched through dead leaves, mud and heard his own voice as well as Locke's and Jory's. Grimly, he sought for footprints, for any indication that Rickon might have run from the camp they had found. They had found the deadened fire pit, buried shit, nut shells, apple cores. What interested Ned even more had been the footprints. Rickon has worn Converse sneakers for three years now and these were his prints. It seemed as if he were dragged, then a scuffle, then his footprints moving normally as one would. Rickon suffered a scare but then he knew or felt safe with whomever it was who took him.

The other prints belonged to the exact same shoe as Bran which froze Ned's heart for a moment. No. His other son was dead, Ned doesn't believe in ghosts, only logic. Only one other boy wore the exact same shoe and that was Bran's pothead buddy, Jojen Reed. Howland was a rich fanciful and very permission father. His kids Jojen and Meara were just as odd as their father. Ned and Cat had put a great amount of pressure on Bran to stop hanging with them so much this year. And Bran was far too interested in his gaming to care to hang with them soon enough.

Though Ned was aware that his son had still gamed and spoke online with them up until his death, Bran never seemed to get that attached to anyone really. The last time Ned saw the kids was at Bran's services. Why would the kids kidnap Rickon? It doesn't make any sense unless they were trying to ransom him or prank him. If it had been a prank, they would have had their laugh then dropped him to his destination or back home. They were known pranksters but not malicious ones.

If it was ransom, they would have called Cat or Ned by now and they don't need the money,there isn't anything their father denies them. Ned saw the large boot prints and his belief that it was the Reed kids was confirmed. That mute large simple man that was Howland's stableman's son was the only one that would ever be with those kids.

He had been given the role of the kids companion when he was just a young teen and they were preschoolers. The man did anything the siblings wanted but he would tear apart anyone that hurt them. It had made Cat nervous, but Ned has been friends with Howland since childhood. He knew that Hodor would never hurt Rickon anymore than those kids. 

Ned had begun to call Howland when he heard Locke faintly call to Jory. "Look, over here, I think it's him!" He began to run in that direction clutching his phone. Then he he stopped and froze, tilting his head. Why had Jory not said anything after that initial "Where are you looking?" And he knew it was too late for a run or fight as Locke was already heading his way. A flash of pant leg and Locke's rough voice.

"Ned, don't call anyone, please. It will only be a nightmare in the head of whomever you were calling. Do you want your wife or son perhaps, to hear their father shot in the head?" Tsking, Locke stepped out of the trees and into the small clearing. Ned sat on a large boulder, arms crossed, head down, Locke had never seen him look so defeated. Worse, in front of him was his gun on the ground, bullets scattered around him.

Locke grimaced in disgust and clicked off the safety. "Can I ask two questions first?" Ned's voice was soft but clear. "Sure, since you are being so good, I'll even give you three." Nodding, Ned asked, "Is Roose's order? His new way of doing business, to send others to do his own personal wet work?" Locke laughed and shook his head. "No, Ned. Roose has more honor than that, if he wanted you dead, he would have done it himself. The Lannisters pay so much better than the Boltons."

Ned looked both relieved and disturbed all at once. "Next question. Do you know where my son is? Who is behind the disappearance of Rickon?" Locke shrugged. "I haven't a clue on that one. I liked that scruffy little guy, if I knew I'd find a way to get the information to your sons. I promise that for you in fact." Ned gave a sharp nod and struggled to reply. "Thank you for that, Locke. Last question. Would you tell my wife-"

The shot took Locke in the chest and dark blood bubbled from his mouth. His shocked eyes stared at Ned as he slowly went down as if he just discovered he was too tired to continue killing and betraying today. Ned swore at the burning in his arm and hissed at the sight of a burnt hole in the arm of his jacket. It was a recent gift from Cat and she will give him hell for it.

It wasn't as if he had lots of time to come up with a plan. Thank the gods that his wife had reminded him to wear that ankle gun. Sometimes he didn't want to bother with it, the holster chafed something fierce. He had just enough time to jam the thing into the crook of his elbow and cross his arms. Jumping off the boulder, he quickly put the bullets back in the gun. He found Jory, hoping beyond reason that he wasn't dead yet. Jory's throat was slit ear to ear and his eyes were marble, reflecting the clouds above.

As Ned ran, trying to follow the trail back to the cars, he started to make calls. He ran faster as no one was answering their phone. Roose, Cat, Robb, Jon or Ramsay? What were the fucking odds of that?

Rickon was dizzy and sick from the fish-bowling with Meara and Jojen. At least three joints have been passed around. Then he was giggling and devouring Doritos, while trying to combat dry mouth with Mountain Dew. The van rambled onward and Rickon kept meaning to ask where they were going anyway.  "Where...we are going...where?"

He finally managed trying to peer through smoke at the two leaning against each other, sharing a Marlboro. Grinning, Meara said, "Nowhere and Everywhere." Rickon and Jojen started laughing. It was another half hour and another joint before Rickon asked more. "Are we going somewhere?" Meara nodded and grinned widely. "Where?" "Away. Far away from all this bullshit where our families won't find us." 

Chapter Text

Polivar was unaware of the unfamiliar figures that crawled through a ravine near The Barracks. These boys knew how to maneuver, how to track, hunt and kill. They knew how to take advantage of their surroundings and blend in. Not that this will be a good enough excuse to Gregor when his house and the Lannister's begin to burn and crackle, billowing smoke.

But right now, there wasn't any smoke, nor any distressed and scared-loyal servants running out of the home looking for assistance. Polivar never saw Tormund or Mance or Styr or Myranda. He was texting with Dusten at the moment about his bet with Francis. Polivar was in agreement that Ramsay will try and confront Brat before the end of the night. Just to annoy Dusten, he called him by his real name Lancel as he placed his bet.

Then Polivar heard a tiny bleep and looked down at his screen with a frown. The Barracks doors were unlocked. That should not be since anyone with the code was here, not there. Of course, Piggy had the code so he could do outside chores, Jeyne didn't have the code but she does go outside when Piggy does on occasion.

Except that Polivar and Raff were very clear that the pets were not to leave the house today. Not with guests roaming around that might catch an eyeful of them. And since Jeyne wouldn't breathe without Raff's permission, it had to be his own Piggy. Polivar knew his Piggy was generally obedient but on occasion tends to stray or get sly when he can. He has caught him with stolen smokes before or pretending to work outside just to get a rest.

"Fucking Piggy, gonna beat your ass." Polivar snarled as he headed towards the Barracks. The doors were open, front and back to the Barracks therefore destroying the soundproofing. When a gun fired from inside his home, Polivar hit a button on his phone and started running with his gun drawn. It had to be intruders but why would anyone shoot poor beaten down defenseless pets? It pissed Polivar off to think someone has shot his property and he ran faster.

Raff got the emergency message, he notified Gregor that something was amiss at the Barracks and he was off. He was halfway there when another alert went off as the same time Gregor's small house started to smoke. "What the fuck?" He roared and then heard gunshots from the Barracks. A quick scan showed no one in Gregor's cottage and he flew towards the Barracks after calling the fire department and alerting the entire company plus Gregor. He just made it to the Barracks as the Lannister's home caught fire.

Only Damon and Skinner had gone to the Barracks. No men would be there, only slaves. Damon wanted to get Jeyne out of there, it was his top priority. He would of course rescue the boy he knew was in there as well. Skinner's main priority will be to confiscate as much weaponry, drugs and whatever else he can before they set the place on fire.

Ramsay had given them the code and blueprint of the Barracks. All of the boys had memorized the Mountain men's schedules. It was a perfect small pocket of time where no men are in the home, only pets. Perfect, easy and they anticipated no problems.

Skinner went through the back and Damon through the front. The house was filled with soft chattering from a boy and the sounds of chopping. Damon crept into the kitchen and he saw a boy whom he vaguely recognized as a boy named HotPie that had roamed around town. This version was not quite as heavy as before, this version had bruises everywhere and wore a leather collar around his neck.

He was chatting as he chopped celery along with another person. The other one nodded but never made a sound, just chopped and nodded. Damon couldn't breathe because it couldn't be Jeyne, not this ghost of person. 

This girl was thinner and tinier than Jeyne ever was, more silent then Damon's Jeyne ever could have been. This girl was covered in bruises, in scars, and her long black hair was covering her face. That means there was hope that the right girl was somewhere else in the house. Damon walked into the kitchen and found himself asking, "Jeynie?"

Piggy whipped around and gasped, he stood in front of Jeyne with his arms spread out. "Wait!" He nervously saw another man come through the back door. Damon and Skinner, Ramsay Bolton's boys. Shit. "We are unarmed, helpless slaves! Don't attack us! The men aren't here! Please, just get out of here!"

Damon shook his head as if the boy was confused. "We know the boys aren't here. It's a rescue, not just an attack. Jeyne, it's Damon, honey, come here! Hurry, sweetie, let me get you out of here! You too, boy, move on out the door, hurry!"

Skinner already was heading into the living room and beyond. Crashing some things, he searched quickly for weapons, drugs and anything of real value that was small enough to carry. Groaning, Piggy slumped as Damon continued to try and get Jeyne's attention. "You don't know that the hell you are bringing down on your heads."

"Are you two fucking crazy or something?" Damon snapped as he grabbed the boy by the collar and yanked him forward. "Run out the door, and I'll carry Jeyne with me. My friends are attacking already, no one will stop you! Just stay near me and you'll be safe, alright? Now move your ass!" He nearly threw Piggy at the door but the boy's knee caught the edge of the fridge and he leaned against it, hissing.

Damon reached towards his poor terrified girl. Jeyne let out a scream and ran past him in a blur of panic. She went up the stairs and flew into Raff's room. Skinner popped his head out of the back downstairs bedroom, clutching Tickler's nun-chucks.  "Hey, need help?" He called but Damon ran past, up the stairs, yelling for his Jeynie to stop and let him save her.

HotPie took one step closer towards the open door. The air was so nice and the sun blazing high, so inviting. Just the thought of it made him start to tremble and whine. He took another small step and tears began to flow down his cheeks. Is it that easy? To really just walk out and stay beside Damon until freedom? Could it be that simple, that achingly fucking easy?

To just leave, to walk away and never...Piggy took one step back. It wouldn't be that easy. Because even if he left and was actually able to do so he would always be waiting. He would always be looking for Polivar to show and kill him. To see those eyes go from cruel amusement to the sociopath gleam Polivar kills with.

And Piggy is fairly sure that Polivar would make sure his disloyal pet died slow, in great agony. So he did the most logical thing he could think of and sat under the kitchen table, waiting. If someone eventually shows him Polivar's dead body, he'll happily leave the house. 

Damon pounded up the stairs and burst open the door that Jeyne had gone into. He stared in shock as his tiny, trembling girl held a gun at him, trained on center mass. Ramsay and Damon had allowed Myranda and Jeyne to go deer hunting with them. He knew that Jeyne was a pretty good shot and so he stood still.

"Jeynie, honey, what are you doing? Don't you know Damon, your Damie, remember? I'm here to help you, sweetie, to get you away from them, from HIM." Jeyne's head twitched and her neck made a tiny snapping sound. Now Damon could see her face, the violent twitching has moved some of the hair.

Her eyes were too wide, her face too white, her scars around her lips were red as blood. Jeyne wasn't looking at Damon as if she didn't know him, she was looking at him as if he were a threat. When Jeyne started to speak, her voice it was so hoarse and so alien it made Damon nearly want to cry. Worse were the words and the fact that she was backing him up down the damned stairs with his arms out.

"You are making me break the rules! I cannot run without permission. I can't hold a weapon, ever. Never touch Master's weapons, ever! I can't speak without permission! Get out! I am not allowed to see you! I am not allowed to leave the house without permission." She had backed him halfway down the staircase.

"Sweetie, you aren't hearing me, I am here to save you. It doesn't matter what Raff wants anymore, I'll never let him touch you again!" Damon was almost on the last step into the hallway that connected to the kitchen and living room. Jeyne stared down at Damon and then giggled.


Jeyne unloaded the entire clip into Damon's chest.

Piggy covered his ears when he heard Jeyne firing at Damon. He laughed though because he didn't feel so bad about being too cowardly to go out the door. If he were honest, some of it was loyalty, after all, Polivar was bad, but he kept his pet safe from others that would hurt him far worse. Jeyne wins on loyalty points though, gunning down her own lover and rescuer, Piggy laughed again.

Then he heard Skinner scream Damon's name and he groaned. Oh gods, that thin man will kill Jeyne! Piggy scrambled out from under the table and headed into the living room silently as he could. Grabbing the first thing he saw, Piggy managed to throw a lamp and it struck Skinner in the back of his head.

The shot went wild as Skinner dropped the gun and fell down. That was great for two reasons. One was the boy hadn't played baseball in over four years and two was because Jeyne was standing there, still holding the empty gun out, just frozen. Fuck. Piggy has seen the girl do this before a few times after she has been scared badly enough by Raff. She just freezes and goes away.

Only Raff can bring her out of that state and Piggy has no choice, he tries to run over and kick the gun away from Skinner, who is already back up. Piggy thanks the gods and Polivar for forcing him to lose weight and gain energy and a bit of muscle. Otherwise, he would never have managed to run over and kick away the gun in time, before Skinner got there.

Seconds after that, Piggy cursed the same gods and Polivar because the extra layers of fat would have cushioned Skinner's blows. The man punched him twice in the back, then spun him around. Skinner grabbed the collar and used it to slam Piggy into the wall, then he raised one fist high. Piggy tracked it with his eyes and saw a blade in the fist. He was going to die anyway, huh.

Just as the fist started to come down there was a very loud crack and Skinner had half a head. Piggy squealed when he felt pieces of Skinner's brain on his face, but he was still too terrified to move. Polivar stood there with his gun aimed still and just stared at the scene in front of him as if it made little sense. After a second, he grinned and shook his head. "You two squealing, Piggy. Go clean your face...leave the girl there, Raff can handle that shit on his own."

Piggy suddenly remembered what Damon had said. "Master! It is an ambush! He said they were going after the houses! The north boys he said, to attack!" "Good boy, Piggy. Go wash your face and hide until I tell you otherwise!" Polivar spun around and nearly ran into Raff.

"It is an attack. I'm alerting the others. Your girl needs to be dealt with, then get your ass out here. Lock the pets in." Polivar flew, while hitting an alarm button on his phone. When he got outside he saw Gregor's house fully in flames and the Lannister's dining room billowing dark smoke. "Fuck! Fuck!"

Raff looked down at the carnage on Damon's torso then looked up the stairs at his girl. Jeyne was staring with large eyes at the dead body and still holding the gun as if to shoot him again. Raff slowly headed up towards her, speaking softly. "Good girl. Give Master the gun. He is dead and Master is very pleased with his good girl."

He eased the gun out of her grip then Jeyne began to tremble and sob. "Sorry...please...sorry...please..." She begged as Raff quickly lifted her up and carried her to his room.

" punishment for good girls. I forgive you for breaking the rules. I want you to rest until I come back." He put her in the large cage and added a pillow and blanket for her. A full water bottle was already wired inside of it. Locking the gate, Raff grabbed extra weaponry and flew out of the house, only stopping to lock the doors behind him and yell, "Piggy, get hidden somewhere low!"

Chapter Text

When the first alert from Polivar came it was related to the Barracks, so Gregor sent Raff to deal with it. Now with a more urgent code, Gregor sent Dusten and Sandor. Gregor quietly put Tickler and Brat on alert and ready to defend or go fight as needed. They heard no fire engines, nor saw any lights out of the lovely heavily curtained windows.

Joff had become bored with the violinist that Tywin had hired personally for the occasion. So not long after they finished eating, he ordered the DJ he hired to drop the bass.

Joff was dancing along with the pounding music as his mother, grandfather, Cat and Roose all sat with strained expressions. Sansa, Margeary and Loras danced with him. Tyrion sat with Podrick and Bronn. He had been heavily drinking while chatting with his buddies. Now that the music was so loud, he shouted while drinking even heavier. Walda Bolton got inspired by the music and her pastries were chewed to the beat.

Ramsay, Robb and Jon were wandering about, rarely chatting with the others. Bronn had been keeping an eye on the three boys, they were less bored and more tense then they should be. Tickler and Arya were walking about the room as well, but hovering over Joff and Sansa. Both were no longer relaxed but on alert, eyes scanning for danger.

Then Gregor got something on his phone he didn't like and with even more interest, Bron watched as Dusten and Raff had each left. Sandor went a different direction but also left. The three boys noticed this as well and Bronn groaned. He finished his beer fast and leaned towards Tyrion. His arm reached out and his hand yanked Podrick closer by his new tie.

"Something is going down and I think any second everything here is going to go to shit." Tyrion gave a bitter laugh. "Well, that isn't unusual with our parties. Let me know when to either run or hide. Podrick, if Bronn must fight, then you are to guard me." Podrick gave Tyrion an exasperated look.

"I am a driver and a personal assistant. Every morning I turn into a nurse and now you want me to be a human shield for you. I want a raise." Tyrion sighed and nodded. "Fine...have another drink each of you. Let us toast to the gods in hope that they do not want us to die tonight."

Petyr and Varys sat together at one of the lesser tables and Cat walked over to sit with them. Mainly because they were the furthest table from the pounding music. Tywin had enough after a bit and asked the DJ to turn the music lower and play slower songs. Joff would have contested it, challenged it, but the look his grandfather gave him was chilling.

As much as it angers him, Joff still feared his grandfather and didn't dare to push any further. Not with public humiliation wasn't beyond the old man if he won. So Joff acted as if he chose to be done dancing instead. Joff guided his fiance back to the table and ordered champagne for a toast. A huge cake rolled in and a maid quietly began to cut and serve it.

Polivar ran towards Gregor's house and saw the this strange little collared girl dragging a hose Gregor likes to use during training. Both for discipline and allowing them to hydrate. She had turned it on and was trying to put out the fire. He thought about offering her to go wait at the Barracks, but the creepy thing didn't seem afraid at all. "Did you see them? How many?"

The girl turned slightly as if to answer then did the last thing Polivar expected. She yanked hard on the hose that he was standing in a circle of and then his ass hit the ground hard. An arrow whizzed past and buried itself into a tree. "Ah, fuck." Polivar shimmed to the front of the house, carefully peeked to see if he could sight his assailant.

Maddeningly, the fucking slave continued to calmly try and put out the fire, ignoring his whispered commands to find cover. Fine, stupid bitch gets killed it isn't my fault. But Gregor won't see it that way at all. Fuck. Fuck.

A slender young woman that Polivar remembered from the bar emerged from shadows. Her arrow at the ready, she was slinking forward with a feral grin on her face. "Oh you cunt..." He muttered and pulled out his gun. Polivar knows that Gregor says to use the guns as a last resort, kill quietly whenever possible, but he really has no choice.

The bitch is going to shoot Gregor's new pet that makes him so happy. She might as well murder him too, before Gregor rips him limb to limb. As Polivar got ready to take the shot, Myranda's arrow notched and ready to release, the girl suddenly twisted the hose on full force and aimed it at Myranda.

She was knocked backwards with a shriek and her arrow was lost. Polivar flew over and tackled the woman. She tried to rip his eyes out and bite through his throat, while her knee desperately sought out his balls. A forceful blow to the jaw and another hard into her nose made her attack wilder. Snorting at these strong, feral northern girls, Polivar took out his knife.

"If you act like a wild animal then you get treated like one." He said in a happy sing song voice as if speaking to a toddler. Then her used her broken jaw to raise her slender neck towards him and he slit her throat. "Bitch." He tossed her down and stood up.

Polivar felt a shudder as he saw the girl still calmly using the hose with some success now. Her face was blank, her eyes were blank and her features so plain..almost faded. He walked over and cleaned his blade in the spray while staring at her. She never turned from her task or reacted at all.

Quickly, he put his knife away and ran off towards the Lannisters. As jealous as he had felt about Raff having Jeyne, suddenly Polivar is overjoyed that he has Piggy for a pet. Maybe it is a boy and Piggy might fuck up on occasion...but he won't find his pet holding a gun shooting others. Piggy is all emotion, never shuts up and cooks way better than he cleans but he isn't a fucking perfect statue.

Suddenly he knew he wouldn't pressure Margeary for sex anymore. Maybe it's time to contact Petyr or Varys after all. A well trained whore sounds like a much better idea than any female around here. Polivar headed into the Lannister mansion that was smoking heavily from the west wing. He heard smashing and yelling, pulling out his gun, he headed towards the fighting.

When Sandor had flown into Tywin's home he was overjoyed to see Tormund. Finally, not only a chance for some real fighting, but someone his own size. Lovely enough that he grinned and nodded as he walked towards him. "This is will be fun for us both." Sandor said as he unsheathed his blades. Tormund smiled back and brandished a large barbwire bat. "I found this, hope you don't mind my borrowing it?" Sandor shrugged, "Sure, Gregor might be pissed since it's toy but hey...go on, use it."

Mance came out of the shadows and smoke with a machete and a grin. "Mind if I join in too? Not often we get to fight someone our own size." Sighing, Sandor rolled his shoulders. "Can you wait until his turn is over? It's not fair to have both of you at me at once, is it?" Mance nodded and said, "I know it is not fair, but neither is you being here at all. So...yeah."

Both began to crouch and circle around Sandor and he muttered, "Not very sporting at all. If you fight dirty, guess I can fight dirty." He grinned and leaped out of the path of the swinging bat. Sandor hissed as he felt the tip of the machete graze his back before a bullet took Mance in the back. Tormund went to dodge behind a desk from Dusten's gun but Sandor broke his kneecap with a well paced kick. "Oh wanted to play unfair...and wanted to play with that bat." Dusten left as Sandor started to chuckle and Tormund screamed.

Raff had run Rick Karstark heading down another staircase towards the door. Or rather he almost took a bullet from Rick. He moved in time behind a pillar that is now damaged enough to make Cersei cry once she sees it. Rick took cover behind another pillar and the two began to politely try and kill each other.


Chapter Text

Robb and Jon waited for a signal that Ramsay said they would "just know". It was clear the fighting was going on now, but who's side was winning? Gregor wasn't stupid and was already giving a nod for their traitor sister and Tickler to lock the doors and shut the music down. No more fucking around then. He had the music cut and then it became chaos.

Joff was standing on his feet, eyes bulging, clawing at his throat, foam pouring down his chin. Gregor had his head tilted, because this was certainly not on anyone's anticipated list. They all stared for a moment at the sight of a boy clearly NOT choking on a piece of meat. Sansa and Cersei were screaming. The blonde was trying to use the Heimlich maneuver, while Sansa somehow felt holding onto his head would fix it.

Then Roose Bolton was shot in the back of his head by Ramsay and the boys guessed that must be the fucking signal. Reek was already downstairs, no one ever even saw him leave. Knowing his pet was safely mixing in with the servers, he already had an outfit tucked away for his pet to wear. The Karstarks will see that Reek gets back home.

Ramsay grinned and shot Walda in the swollen sow stomach and then turned to start working on his other enemies. Arya ran over to the long table and knocked it over. Joff went to the floor in a seizure and his mother and fiance fell with him. Tywin was also under the cover of the table but he was holding a gun. Margeary and Loras were clutching each other, next to the hideous scene of Joff dying.

Gregor was incensed beyond belief. Just as he had a good aim for Bolton's head, fucking bastard Stark shot at him. The bullet lightly grazed through illegally obtained silk made by enslaved three year old children, still nursing from their mothers in Mereen. It shot off the button hand carved by Gregor himself then detailed by a man that charged exorbitant prices. Qyburn had to be paid a great amount of money to give Gregor the skull of Rhaegar, or rather, a piece of it.

Growling, he turned and tried to remove Jon's eye with a bullet of his own. The little fuck moved fast and Gregor only got his shoulder, but the screech of pain helped a little.  As Gregor went for the wounded punk, Robb took a shot and the shot went wide. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU FUCKING STARKS? IF THIS IS MY ASSASSINATION YOU REALLY SHOULD CONSIDER ANOTHER LINE OF WORK!" Gregor took a shot while yelling and Robb wasn't as fast as Jon. The boy grunted as his thigh was hit and he fell out of sight.

Tickler couldn't do anything for Joff, he was nearly dead. Tywin had his own fucking gun and Sansa was collateral damage if Joff was dead, right? He went for Robb Stark, following the blood trail. Ramsay had ducked when he saw Gregor aiming for him then just as he saw Jon shoot Gregor, he felt a terrible pain of his own. He had been trying to get a shot at Tywin while standing on the table, when something stabbed him deep in the arm. "AH, FUCK!"

He stared at the pink heeled shoe sticking out of his arm, mouth open. "Wifey, that isn't very good behavior to show your husband." Arya aimed the next one at his head and he leaped off the table. "I am just showing you how I'd greet you every day if you try to pull your husband shit on me." She called sweetly as she managed to find her purse. Everything upon the table was now scattered in front of it and she winced as glass went into her knee.

Getting her gun out and clicking off the safety, Arya stood up and slowly went towards where Ramsay was last. "It would be really bad Northern wife behavior to kill your husband. You'll make the society pages for sure but...not the right way." He called out in a very pleasant voice but Arya couldn't see the fucker. "And you cannot deny you loved having sex with me, wifey." Arya growled, tracking his voice now. "So you gave me an orgasm. Guess what? Gendry gave me orgasms too and I didn't want to marry him either!"

A gasp came from another toppled table. "Arya Stark! Remember your mother is in the room!" Arya rolled her eyes, "Shut up, Mother and stay low. Pretend Dad is really on a bender and you've pissed him off." Varys and Petyr shared the most delighted vindictive wonderful smile. The glow in their eyes was nearly vampire. A starved thing finally fed, the servers finally seeing their most hated and needed client getting the much needed knock down.

Varys's eyes were softly welling with lovely tears, not just Cat getting a smack down but Joff dying all at once? Oh, it was like finally seeing that dreams do come true. If a cricket had appeared on his knee and sang gently of dreams, Varys would have had an orgasm of his own. Petyr heard Tyrion laughing at the next table over.

Tyrion was on the ground behind his table. holding a bottle of wine, snickering now. Podrick was crouched next to him, shielding the man with his own body. He looked petrified and resigned all at once. Bronn looked bored but had his gun at the ready. Yawning, he watched idly as Robb crawled past under a table, leaving behind a small blood trail.

The boy looked more pissed than scared and he had a tight grip on that gun still. Bronn watched as a moment later Tickler crawled past with a grin. "Pass the bottle on that other table, Pod. This shit will probably take a bit."

Sansa cried out, "Maybe its an allergic reaction! Where are the purses? Maybe Arya has an injection thingie for that!" Her words are scrambled and frantic. In desperation to save her fiance, Sansa threw herself half over the table to scramble and grab purses.

"Foolish girl! Get back down!" Tywin snapped and yanked her, throwing her to the floor behind the table. Sansa had managed to grab only one purse and it broke open with she hit the floor. The contents spilled everywhere but the four empty eye drop containers all fell together.

Staring at them, Sansa gasped. She turned even paler than croaked out, "No...Margeary no! Why? I let you be part of our wedding! I thought you didn't want to be my friend, you wanted to kill my fiance! Damn you! I'll kill you!" Cersei was holding her dead son and wasn't registering Sansa leaping over her and her boy.

She didn't hear Margeary's screams or see Sansa raking at her as if clawing her to death. Loras was rocking himself in a ball muttering, "It's all my fault...oh gods...what did we do? Why is this happening? I'm sorry I want to take it back now, please." But Cersei didn't hear that either. Not yet at least.

  When Joff was very little, Cersei spent more time with him than her husband. Robert had his whores, his drinking, his buddies and her money, plus status. And though she continued with her society duties, she would rip him from her nanny at every chance she got. When he was a toddler, there was a duck park that they visited every day, rain or shine.

They would call to the ducks and throw bread at them. Give them silly names and then Cersei would swing him and kiss him. Joff was a happy, angelic thing then. One day he started throwing rocks at the ducks instead of bread and they never went back there. But Cersei held her dead son and she was mourning the little boy who fed ducks and thought his mother was a good mommy.

Tywin was watching it all and frowning. He managed to reach over and yank Sansa back by her hair. "Did that girl poison my grandson with her eye drops? Is this what you are accusing Margeary Tyrell of?" Sansa nodded while sobbing and Tywin took note that Loras kept apologizing over and over. Margeary was frantically saying that Sansa was framing her and Tywin commanded, "Silence!" "Everyone stays right here and once things are safe, we shall deal with this."

Gregor smashed through four tables as Jon was skittering under them, just like his stupid brother on the other side of the room. Idiots. He was sure Ramsay was probably doing the same thing. He almost felt sorry for that boy when Arya catches up to him. He took aim at a flash of color and shot. A scream made him smirk and he took aim again. Another shot and another screech. As fun as it was to play and take the moron apart piece by piece, Tywin would be annoyed about it.

One last shot and Gregor heard nothing. Perfect but he threw the table aside to check. The fucking little shit, he'd been using Walda's dead fat body to hide behind. Jon saw Gregor and gave a real scream of surprise this time as he tried to fly to another table. Gregor snarled out, "Clever little shit, aren't you? Your mother must be proud...oh wait...yeah..sorry." The shot was messy, splattering Jon's head on those nearby. Cat shuddered and gagged as her hated stepson's brain matter rested heavily upon her.

Robb stopped briefly to bandage his leg tightly with his tie. Leaving the blood trail, Robb stood up and climbed on top of the table. He shot into the table where he heard Tickler coming from. "You cocksucking fucking piece of fuck juice!" Tickler growled. Robb shot again then leaped off the table as a bullet came up into his foot. Tickler was wounded and that was pissing him off. He came up, throwing a chair at Robb then training his gun trying to get a good shot. He wants to gut shot Robb so bad his dick hurt.

Ramsay was trying to stay out of Arya's range and he saw Robb about to die. Fuck. He aimed at Tickler and took the shot just as Arya took hers. The bullet hit and Tickler went down, Ramsay couldn't celebrate though. He was in too much pain and pushed to his limit of being kind to his new wife.

Ramsay turned, ignoring the flaring pain in his side and stalked after wifey. Robb managed to shoot Ramsay's hand and even as it hurt, Ramsay hollered cheerfully, "Hey, really good job, Robb! Thanks for the friendly fucking fire, asshole!"

"Leave Arya alone! Let's get the fuck out." Robb growled as he lunged closer, seeing Gregor heading for them. Ramsay snarled. "Oh, I see how this fucking is...I do the hard shit, kill my own dad, protect your ass and when my own wife attacks me-" "STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Arya shouted and Ramsay gave in.

A sudden flash and the room filled with smoke as Ramsay threw the canisters. Robb and Ramsay relied on their memory and counted as they crawled from memory.

When Gregor got the windows open and made sure that Tywin was alive and well, he looked for the two shit heads. Not only were they missing but so was Arya.

Chapter Text

Gregor grabbed Tickler by the back of his neck and looked at the pale face. "Are you dead? Are you too injured to work?" He growled as Tickler tried to focus and grit his teeth against the pain. "No, Sir. I can work." Tickler lied and when Gregor released him, he struggled to stay on his feet. There was a bullet in his back and it hurt like a motherfucker.

The world came in and out for a bit before Tickler felt safe to walk. Biting his lip against a scream, Tickler moved towards Gregor. "Brat is going after those fucking idiots. Help her kill them. Now. She just went through the fucking vents then down into the second floor laundry elevator. And she is heading towards the back door. Get moving."

Tickler couldn't run but he walked as fast as he could. Fuck the stairs. He took the elevator knowing if Gregor or Tywin saw him, it would be rectal infusion time. He didn't care, the pain was incredible and it was hard to breathe now. Punching the button like it was an enemy, Tickler leaned against the gold paneling and waited for the thud. When it came, he cried out in agony, then got his gun ready and headed off the elevator.

Robb and Ramsay were staggering now, both in pain, both not humbled but angered in defeat, seeping in bitterness. They flew through the hall into the kitchens. "Oh gods, she is still on our asses what the fuck is wrong with you fucking Starks?" Groaned Ramsay as the wires of the taser nearly hit him. "What the fuck are you doing? Get upstairs, go away!" Screamed Robb and Ramsay swore, pushing Robb ahead of him faster.

A grim voice followed them. "I am doing my job, Robb. I am bringing you down. Dead or alive is your own choice." Ramsay sneered and shoved Robb out of the service door onto the ground. Then he turned and aimed carefully and took a shot.

He brought down a hanging rack of pots and pans upon Arya then he jumped out. Robb was holding his leg and moaning. "Nope, no time to nurse the boo boo's now, honeybunch, get on your fucking feet before your sister kills us!" Ramsay forced Robb to his feet and dragged him.

Arya couldn't find her fucking gun, her head was spinning from several pans whacking her. Fuck it, I'm going to kill them with anything I can find. She grabbed a very sharp wicked cleaver from the kitchen butcher block and headed out the service door.

Arya also took out her blade from her thigh sheath. They have not made it too far, not with Robb's leg looking so bad. He could barely walk on it. Grinning, she flew after them. Ramsay saw her and started cursing.

It was Robb that turned and pointed his gun at her. "Don't make me kill my own little sister." Arya stopped running but walked forward now. "No you won't. You can't bring yourself to kill me, Robb. Otherwise our mother would have been dead."

Robb glared at her and changed his aim. "You are right. I can't kill you but I can shoot you and cripple you. It might even be the end of your career. Then you can be the crippled wife of Ramsay Bolton." That made the girl stand still, eyes narrowed.

"Uh, why did you make that sound like a punishment?" Joked Ramsay as he pointed his gun at Arya. "I have no problem killing you, sugar if I have to. But I could shoot out your other leg and that way I get to enjoy your torture of it everyday of our married life. So come one, keep coming after us."

Ramsay couldn't resist his taunting but they had to get the fuck out of there. The fires didn't seem very bad yet, but no others were seen yet. They could hear the fire engine sirens coming closer. "Follow us and we will cripple you, hear me?"

Arya gave a sharp nod and gritted her teeth in frustration as her prey began to limp away. Ramsay has already texted Ben to meet them, he was parked only a block away. The girl ran a different direction and was gone. "Shit..she is going to come at us from another fucking direction. Robb, you watch left, I'll watch right. We don't have far to go, just a little more speed Robb. Ben is waiting for us, look, see the car! Right there? Almost there, buddy, let's go! I'll even let Reek sign your fucking cast when you get it if you'll just move your fucking ass!"

A blade came flying and landed in Robb's hand, going through and clinking hard into the gun he was holding. He screamed and dropped the gun, trying to rip the blade out of his hand. Ramsay swore and nearly died a moment later as Arya came from a bush like a demented lunatic. She swung a cleaver that cleanly went through his side.

It only sliced the fat and some muscle luckily, Ramsay had moved like a ballerina on cocaine practicing the famed Flashdance move to save himself from being gutted. 

"YOU BITCH!" He hollered and found he couldn't shoot what he could aim at. He couldn't aim because he was too busy trying to get out of her increasingly close swinging range.  "I don't believe in divorce, I believe in homicide!" Arya growled and continued her dedication to murdering her new husband.

Just as Ramsay started to get the gun aimed and planned on putting this rabid cunt down, Robb tackled her from behind. The cleaver went flying as did the siblings. Arya managed to harshly grind her hand into Robb's leg wound as they went down.

Ramsay seethed as he tried to pull Robb out of the rolling grunting flesh writhing about. Fuck, others would be here soon, they had to leave. He managed to kick Arya in the face and stun her. Grabbing Robb, Ramsay shoved him and screamed in his face, "Go! Fucking crawl if you have to!" Robb seemed to get the urgency and he staggered, hopped towards the car, idling nearby.

Ben rolled forward to meet Robb and Ramsay wasn't far behind them. Incredibly, as Ramsay watched Robb get into the car he heard a shot then fell down. "The cunt actually got me." He hissed as Ramsay tried to crawl into the car. Ben flung the passenger door open and took a shot at the girl. Only after Arya fell to the ground did he help his friend into the seat and slammed the door shut, peeling out.

Robb rolled down the window and tried to stick his head out of it. "Did you kill her? Did you kill my sister?" He slumped back into his seat, sweating and chilled. Ben shrugged. "She went down hard, pretty sure I hit her. Not sure if she is dead or not, but I generally don't miss a head shot."

Opening his mouth and staring at Ben's pitying eyes in the rear-view mirror, Robb spewed vomit all over the back seat as Ramsay bled profusely all over the front seat. "Ah, fuck the both of you! Should've let you kill you! You are both cleaning this fucking car!"

Tickler has forgotten his task. It was incredible, it was insane, but there it was. Gregor will kill him but Tickler cannot think through the pain. The blood is getting darker and it won't stop. It wasn't like Tickler could staunch his own back, why can't he remember what he should be doing?

So he resolved the problem by heading down towards Qyburn's clinic. He will simply have Qyburn fix him and then Tickler will recall what he is doing. Once the pain and bleeding are dealt with he will be fine. So Tickler staggered into the thick smoke that only increased the dizziness.

He was sure he saw shadows, heard voices but everything was grey and smokey. That worried Tickler..what if he was dying and this was the first of seven hells creeping to get him. Tickler fell down and vomited then crawled through it.

The ground was easier, breathing was easier too so even after Tickler escaped the smoke, he continued to crawl. Twice he fell down and then he saw the Barracks looming above him. Tickler knew he wasn't making it to Qyburn's.

Crawling faster, Tickler made it to the back door. It took him four times before he got the code right and fell into the house. Tickler meant to laugh in victory instead he screamed in agony. Leaving the door open, he crawled forward.

If he could get into his room he had painkillers that Qyburn had given him for the stitches. A few of those will get him through while he waited for Qyburn to show and fix him.

"Piggy!" He screamed as he crawled forward. Tickler heard the door slam shut and he tried to turn his head without screaming in pain. The boy was behind him. "Yes, Tickler?" So polite and calm as if the boy can't see the fucking problem?

"Call Qyburn and tell him I got shot in the back. I need him to get here now." Tickler ordered, trying to keep the pain from cracking his voice and failing. Piggy nodded and Ticker headed for his room on all fours stopping once to vomit. He cried out as he saw blood mixed with bile.

Piggy didn't touch the phone even though he knew the code to make the landline work. Instead he followed after Tickler and while the man was staring in horror at his vomit, Piggy acted. He dug his hand deep into the back wound and then twisted, seeking things. As if Tickler were just meat, Piggy pulled past muscles and tendon.

Sharp fingernails shredded arteries, questing, merciless fingers pushed the bullet further in. Piggy started to cry as Tickler screamed in pure black and red volcanic waves of smoldering fire eating him alive. "Does it hurt? Beg me to stop." He repeated what Tickler as grunted at him so many times.

Then he left the man to finish dying on the floor as Piggy went and scrubbed his hand clean.

Chapter Text

Dusten managed to finally get his kill shot but not until two priceless paintings were destroyed. Well, fuck. Won't his uncle Tywin just love that. He sighed and headed outside to see if anyone needed his assistance.

Polivar knelt next to the bleeding girl. He could just see the car as it sped off and he swore. "I wounded them both. Tried to kill them but the driver shot at me." Snorting, Polivar turned her over and grimaced. "Shot you. Just fucking lucky, aren't you? You are going to have one HELL of a scar. If you wanted Ramsay to never want to fuck you again I think you found the answer."

He ripped off his shirt and Arya gagged when he seemed to be smothering her with it. She began to fight and Polivar punched her hard in the stomach. "Stupid girl. Your face is pouring blood, can't you feel it? Now stay still while I tie this. I'll give you your eyesight back in a minute. Stupid fucking idiot." Polivar wrapped the shirt tight and adjusted the cloth so she could see.

"Good job going after your own brother and husband." He seemed begrudgingly saying it, but it made her smile. "We all have that one bad scar from something hard...but only you were stupid enough to get it on your face." Polivar laughed and helped Brat to her feet. "Can you walk or you need me to carry you?" Ignoring the pain, the worry of how bad her face is, Arya snorted. "I'll walk thanks. No need to give you a reason to try and grope my ass."

This normally would have brought derision and at least one hard whack to the head. In this one strange, fucked up day that didn't happen. Instead Polivar laughed and slapped her back almost hard enough to knock her down. "Go see Qyburn, I'll let Gregor know you did the very best you could. are invited to join all of us for drinks at the Barracks, Brat." Overwhelmed, Brat nodded and gave a rough thanks then headed for the clinic.

Gregor assured Tywin that everything was secure but there were deaths and homes burnt. This was never something Gregor wants to tell his boss, it will cause issues. Tywin's eyes told Gregor this was indeed issue causing and Gregor's resigned himself to be ready to have another drama on his hands. Luckily, there was the issue of a dead grandson and two very guilty looking twins. That was the first thing Tywin wanted dealt with and Gregor eagerly agreed.

Margeary looked up at Gregor with lovely, pleading eyes and cried out loudly, "Gregor, please help me out! Tell them you know me, all the boys know me! We have been friends and lovers for years, tell them I would never do something like this! Ask the boys, I need someone to tell them what I am like!" Gregor could feel so many eyes on him, none of them friendly. He changed his mind and wished Twin took Gregor to task.

Sneering, Gregor looked at the desperate girl coldly. "Aye, my boys and I have fucked you for years because you come and enjoy our drugs, our sex. So? Doesn't mean anything, honey, sex is sex. I don't know your character and I am not paid to." Staring up wildly at Gregor, Margeary gave a wordless scream of rage and frustration. Standing up, pressing against the wall, Loras started to pant and suddenly there was a foul smell. Varys gasped and delicately covered his nose. "Oh dear..that boy is ill, I believe. Oh gods, he is wearing the best of Dorn silk and well, might as well burn those pants now. "

Mageary started to give a defeated laugh. "Oh fucked. Nice work, you cunt. You got me. I fucking hate you, Sansa. I fucking hate you and I hope you get what you deserve, you bitch." Cat walked over along with Varys and Petyr.

"Sansa didn't speak much to me except about wedding affairs. But she mentioned you so many times to us, she championed you to us all. And when we warned her about your character, Sansa said you were just lonely and hurt. But she told us that you had tried to kill yourself once over Joff. That made her want to help you. You tried to kill yourself with eye drops, didn't you?"

Margeary laughed wildly and clapped her hands. "Ah! There it is! Oh, clever Sansa! I only use prescription eye drops! I would never have more than a bottle of it at a time!" Sansa pointed at the bottles as she stared without mercy at Mageary. "Four bottles all with your prescription labels on them. I know you hated us for Joff not getting back together with you! But I thought we were friends! I was going to help you get back on your feet! Oh my gods, so stupid! Why did you kill my fiance, Margeary? Why?"

"She did this! She is framing me and you all can see it, can't you?" Margeary screamed at the faces around her. Tywin gave a slow nod. "I am a fair man, young lady. But this is not a matter for courts, this is going to be personal. But I am fair. I will hear everything you have to say, I will check on the answers for truth in anyway that I can. You are accusing Sansa and she is accusing you. No one has accused your brother yet but he seems quite sorry over something. We shall have to ask him what he is so sorry for."

Cersei's head snapped up and slowly reality seeped back in. With a suppressed sob, trying to compose herself, Cersei looked up then her brows shot up further. "Sansa? What did you say a moment ago? Who did you say poisoned my son?" Looking down with respect and eyes full of a dark sadness over her fiance, Sansa replied, "Margeary Tyrell. She used four bottles of eye drops to kill Joff for not taking her back. I will never forgive myself for trusting her. For letting her be a part..." Cutting off, Sansa shook her head and looked down, ashamed.

"Father, I would like you to ask Gregor to please crush Margeary to death slowly for killing my Joff? And kill Loras the same way, please." Cersei's voice was so light and socially polite, she might have asked her father for cream in her coffee. Tywin tried to give his daughter a warning look but he saw that the boy's death has truly affected Cersei. Ignoring her, he turned to Gregor. "I want them both taken to the bunker until these officials are gone. Most of them are in our pocket, or Starks. Cat, I assume you can assist me in this?" 

Cat smiled and nodded. "Of course, Petyr and I will take care of this for you. Oh, I do have a quick question first? Do you think you can allow cell service again now that the party is most definitely over." Tywin sighed and gave a slight nod to Gregor who texted the techie that lived hidden like a troll somewhere in Tywin's house. As Cat and Petyr stood with Tywin, Gregor lifted the two screeching twins and went into the elevator. He spun the girl into the wall face first and handcuffed her wrist behind her back then did the same to her hysterical brother.

"If you either of you give me the slightest trouble, I will literally rip you apart, understand?" Gregor rumbled and only Margeary responded. "Fuck you." "I have, thanks." Gregor mumbled as he used a tiny key to open a small panel on the elevator underneath the buttons. There was another button there and he pressed it. They went down beyond the three floors of the home. The door opened and a chill stale air met them. Gregor grabbed one arm of each of the twins and dragged them down a dim tunnel. Yellow lights in cages were supported above by metal and wood supports.

Gregor brought them through the underground tunnel. They passed a door that led to another corridor into the Lannister home. They went straight and were brought to a place Gregor likes to play with his victims. They went into a dimly lit but cleaner hall that led to stairs that went up to a door. Gregor smiled as he shoved them into the room where the stains linger of a five year old that he raped and exploded her little head.  Of course the room is empty now, just a locked blank room for these two glittery trashy things to panic and run about in.

Smiling, Gregor slammed the door and locked it. The next time those two recieve visitors they will be frantic and terrified, helpless. Tywin wants them to be guilty whether they are or not. Gregor can read his boss well and this pleases him. This means once he gets the confessions wanted, he gets to torture and kill them. It will make up for the unpleasantness that will come with Tywin over today's issues. Gregor went back the way he came to go into the Baratheon home.

Tywin and Cat were handling the officials. Varys and Petyr were outside at the edge of the estate, dealing with media. Sansa curled on the floor near Joff and cried while Qyburn gave her a shot. Gregor turned to stare down at Qyburn. "Did you work on Brat's face?" The harassed looking doctor grumbled, "I was in the middle of it when I was summoned her to care for the ladies. As soon as I am done I will finish the girl."

  Gregor grabbed the man by his neck and lifted him up. "Cersei has gone to bed with a sedative, right? Sansa just had a sedative and will soon go night night. Cat seems fine. Guess that is it then. So why don't you finish fixing MY soldier's fucking face?"

He dropped the doctor and stormed out of the house. Heading towards the Lannisters, Gregor saw it was only Tyrion's wing and Tywin's large library that truly got burnt. With a true feeling of heartbreak, Gregor looked at his own house, half destroyed. Then with a gentle small swelling of hope, Gregor saw that someone had put the fire out before it got too far. The kitchen, the bedroom and a bathroom were left.

There was Waif and incredibly, she was putting tarps up to keep the elements out. Gingerly, Gregor stepped inside and saw that the girl had cleaned up as much as she could. Most of the soot was gone, transferred to the girl instead. "Master, I fixed what I could. I have only two more tarps to put up. I checked and our services are all still working." Gregor moved forward and looked down at the impassive narrow plain face. His mouth opened to tell the girl she could go shower and he will finish the tarps.

"My best shirt and my button. One of my men dead. Another with her face half taken off. My home. My trees and flowers." Tears welled in his eyes and the Waif came closer. She lifted her arms and touched his shirt as if it were a relic and whispered, "Mereen specialty and your Rheagar buttons. I will fix this and go find that button with your permission, Master. Your man died for you, as he should. Your other man, he has slaves that have talent with building. Your home can be rebuilt and fixed in weeks, Master. I will do all I can to reconstruct your perfect garden. You worked so hard for what you have, Master."

Gregor sighed and nodded. "Yes. You are right, Waif. Make your Master feel better now." Covered in soot or not, Waif took off her clothing then her Master's. She led him to a special massage chair Gregor had ordered on Waif's advice. As it was activated, hard large plastic knobs began to push roughly, circling into Gregor's muscles from neck to his feet. The chair had special leg holders that had a pad for feet to press against. Those foot pads began to slightly vibrate, the intensity growing as the chair worked it's way to full strength as it was set for. The soot covered girl climbed the large man and began to lick then suck his cock.

He grabbed her head with one hand, molding his palm to her small skull. Slamming her hard, forcing her throat to open and take it all. Groaning, Gregor shuddered and let her strangle for a minute before letting her head up. As the Waif gulped air, her head laying upon his thigh Gregor massaged and pinched the girl's nipples.

The girl crawled up after a moment and began to suck Gregor's cock again. This time his hand only held her head and mildly pushed her. Waif took him all in then pulled back, sucking hard on the tip. His head made her go faster, he started to fuck her mouth and throat in earnest. Tears filled his eyes as he thought of his losses.

"I need to kill them, I need to fucking murder Ramsay and Robb!" He snarled out as he pumped up, Waif was clearly strangling and Gregor came hard. He spilled himself into her throat as he watched the tiny blood vessels in her eyes burst into small red splotches. Gregor finished and quickly pulled her off his cock.

Quickly, he flipped the small girl so she could cough it up and breathe. He patted her back with the affection of a owner with a great dog. "Good girl, you are fine. There you go, take a good breath. Now, clean this mess and shower. I will be back soon."

Rickon and the other two were out of snacks. "Geez...should've brought more..maybe there is a store we can stop at soon." Jojen texted Hodor and said, "Hodor says one up ahead in about fifteen minutes. Cool! Hey maybe we should get some freaking Cookie Crisp, I love that shit!" Rickon nodded then dreamily added, "I like Captain Crunch. And cool ranch Doritos." 

A slight edge of anxiety is starting to seep into Rickon's drug stupor. Perhaps the last joint was the one that did it. Meara laughed and said, "Oh, I want Count Chocula and a freaking Redbull, a pack of them!"

Trying to shake off this feeling, Rickon laughed and said, "Yeah, we should grab Bran's favorite cereal and snack too! Kind of like a toast, ya know!" Jojen nodded and replied, "That is epic, my man..we must do that now!  He loved Lucky Charms and Slim Jims!"

Rickon tilted his head and said, "No. His favorite snack was Funions." Meara shoved Jojen as she pulled out a baggie of pills. "Idiot, I love Slim fucked up are you?" She shrugged and passed out pills along with a can of Mountain Dew.

Rickon swallowed the Molly and then asked, "What was Bran's favorite two comic book characters? He didn't like my comics much, but two caught his attention. Who were they?" The kids looked at each other than back at the boy. "Uh..Spiderman." Rickon nodded and softly urged, "Yes, who was the other one Bran loved?"

Meara and Jojen gave a few more wrong answers. "It was Deadpool. My parents wanted him to not hang with you so much. When you started getting into thievery and drugs and he only talked with online. So where the fuck are you taking me?"

They winced then Jojen shrugged as he squeezed his sister's hand.

"Look, it is safe, alright? I am not lying now, we are far enough away that it's safe to tell you the truth. Okay? Bolton figured out what the Moron Brigade was doing and he knew you wouldn't be safe on a train all by your lonesome. Listen, there is a very bloody fucking war there right now. Your sisters are fighting with the South, your brothers are fighting for the North. Someone has to live, someone has to be assured to live. You are the youngest Stark, the symbol of North and you have to be kept away and safe. Bolton paid us in much fucking drugs...don't know who his dealer is..but holy fuck, right?"

"Wait, what? Bolton had you kidnap me for drugs? SO WHERE THE FUCK AM I GOING?" Rickon was starting to panic and the colors dripping on the van walls made Rickon real edgy. Jojen smiled and patted Rickon's leg.

"Hey, calm yourself buddy. Roose said his sister ran a school for orphans and that is where you are going. When the war ends, a Stark or Bolton or Karstark maybe, a Northerner will come for you. See, no worries." Jojen tried to get Rickon's attention but he was more concerned with why the walls were pulsing.

Following the exact directions given by Roose and following the time table as well, Hodor came down a road to a set of tracks. As Hodor started to drive over the tracks, his tires were blown out. He never saw the spike strips. Two men in masks suddenly came to the driver door and passenger door with blowtorches.

They quickly welded shut the doors as Hodor stared in panic, flapping his arms and hands. One of them ran to the back door as Jojen opened it. The man punched the boy hard in the face, knocking him back into the van. Rickon had looked up and screamed as a gargoyle attacked Jojen.

The man slammed the door shut and welded it. The two of them ran fast to a high vantage on the hidden brush next to the tunnel above them. They watched gleefully as the train came and the van exploded, twisted and was pushed for miles.

The two men quickly changed into other clothing and followed the carnage. They found Rickon's hand, a leg and what was once a torso. Luton and Yellow Dick left, texting Ramsay that it was done.

Chapter Text

Gregor was following a pale Polivar towards the Barracks. He had just spoken with Dusten, whom he sent to care for Sansa, Tommen and Cersei. Then Raff gave a report on the extent of damage done. Polivar came and said the detectives and the body were finally out of the Barracks.

He had made sure that Jeyne and Piggy were hidden down in the tunnel the entire time. Of course, since these men were all in the pocket of Stark they didn't pry too hard. Tywin paid generously to anyone who didn't particularly care for the Starks.

They asked few questions and didn't pry further than where the bloody trail had been. The fire department has finished and left. So has the forensics team and media. All had the lovely thriller of a rich fiance poisoned the night before his wedding by a bridesmaid!

The jilted riches-to rags girl and her brother, a desperate junkie have escaped! Tywin himself said he put his faith in the police to find the terrible people who could do such a thing. 

Without knocking, Gregor entered Qyburn's clinic. Brat was sitting on a cot with a large bandage upon her face. It went from her left eyebrow, across her nose and down the right side of her face. She saw him and stood at attention. "Sir. Sorry that I lost Ramsay and Robb. I did wound both of them enough that they shouldn't be able to fight for weeks. I can personally go after them if you want me to."

Gregor shook his head and then gave a twisted grin. "You have been blooded. And you didn't hold back on the tradition, no ma'am, you took the game to a whole new level. Good thing you do schooling online now. The only person that you could take to a prom now is fucking Sandor."

Brat didn't flinch, instead she actually gave a laugh and nodded. "If you followed my game example, Sir, someone would have to possibly lose a finger or nose or ear." Gregor gave a tiny rub on her head then warned, "Don't push it." Brat put her eyes down and apologized. Gregor put his hands behind his back and loomed over Brat. "You were willing to kill your brother and fiance, you took a bullet rather than just let them go. Good work, Brat. Three days off, rest and heal."

Sandor had showered and was walking the perimeter of the properties when Ned Stark came flying across the lawn.

"Calm down, Mr. Stark. Your daughter Sansa and your wife are fine. Robb escaped with only a bullet in his leg. Br..Arya caught a bullet to the face but Qyburn stitched her up nicely, drugged her silly and I put her to bed at the Lannisters. Roose was killed by Ramsay who also escaped. Jon is dead. All the Wildlings they brought, Ramsay's boys, they were all killed. Oh and Joff was poisoned and died by Margeary and Loras. Yeah, I think that is it."

  Sandor smiled meanly as Ned rushed towards Cersei's house. "Not even a question about how his shot kid is doing..nice." Since Cersei had gone to bed, Cat took over care. Tommen was asleep with his head on her lap, Sansa was leaning against the other end of the couch, snoring gently. There were about four blankets wrapped about her as if to shield her from the other occupants of the couch. Ned approached and whispered, "What the hell happened? Jon is dead? Is that true? My son is dead?"

Cat snapped back, "Yes, I am sorry but he is dead. Gregor killed him after Jon tried to murder Tywin Lannister. You don't ask about Robb or Arya or Sansa? And what about Rickon? Did you find him?" "Lower your voice, woman before you wake them!" Hissed Ned and Cat gave a bitter laugh.

"Are you kidding? Qyburn sedated them both and they refused to go upstairs so they passed out here. We could dance on them and they won't notice." Ned growled at his wife then answered. "Locke killed Jory and tried to kill me, on Ramsay's orders. I found the camp where Rickon was and I know who he is with. For the moment at least, he is safe."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Cat gently moved the boy off her so she could stand up. Her bones creaked and ached as she stretched herself back into shape. Covering the boy with a remaining blanket, she headed right for the liquor cabinet. She downed a glass of wine before she looked at Ned. He was staring into space, not paying the least attention to her or his own self.

"Ned? Would you like a drink, dear?" Very slowly and carefully Ned spoke. "My son Jon is dead. My son Robb is wounded in the leg and on the run because he decided to have a revolt. My daughter Arya attempted to kill both of them and now has a bullet wound in her face. My other daughter's fiance was poisoned." Cat handed him a whiskey and put a hand on his shoulder. "I am so sorry, Ned. I didn't like Jon but I never wished him dead. I would never wish this pain on you." She lied so easily that she impressed herself.

"Roose was killed by his own son. Ramsay killed that poor pregnant woman. I can't imagine what the boys must have seen in him. Who knows where they are now? If they have gone to a hospital or did they just bind their wounds and run for it. Ned, when you track them down, please don't kill Robb! He is our eldest son, he might be our only son for all we know. Don't kill your heir." Ned gave her a mild look of revulsion then he nodded and patted her hand firmly. "Of course I won't kill Robb, dear."

A few moments later Dusten came in to carry the boy to bed and the couple left.

Ned brought his wife home but he did not remove his coat. "I am going to try and fetch our son home. Then do what I should have done years ago. I am going to kill Ramsay and Theon. Robb will come home and we will figure this out. Tywin knows you and I had nothing to do with this revolt. Go to bed or go drink but don't leave the house, we don't know if anyone else is trying to kill us. Or if Ramsay has a trap set for you somewhere. So no matter not leave the house. Rickon is with Meara, Jojen and Hodor. I will visit Howland and see if he can get a fix on his kids."

Cat tilted her head. "Why the hell would Bran's loser buddies want to take Rickon?" Ned shrugged. "I don't know yet but I am going to find out. You are going to bed though." Cat decided bed sounded wonderful and nodded wearily. "Just try to bring yourself and our sons home alive."   Grimly Ned replied, "I just hope to reach Robb before Gregor does."

 Gregor told Raff he wanted his house worked on by the next day. He put Polivar and Dusten on guard of the grounds, Sandor had the Lannisters house and Dusten had the Baratheons. Gregor will be the bridge between them but that would be later on. First he must deal with Tywin and probably have unpleasantness. Sighing, he headed for the Lannister's home and the study where he was going to be called on the carpet.

Reek had nearly shrieked at the sight of Ramsay covered in blood and then he saw Robb's leg and nearly fainted. "Oh gods...what did you do? Oh no..." He ran to grab the first aid kit and nearly giggled. As if this would fix a shattered leg or stitch together Ramsay's gaping side. Never mind that each had wounds everywhere. "Who the hell got you?" Ramsay ignored Reek's sudden fussy unlike Reek behavior. After all, Ramsay covered in blood is a common sight, but never his own blood.

The pet came running back and Ramsay smirked as his puppy looked up with frantic but submissive eyes. "Master, this won't do much...can..can we find a hospital?" Robb laughed bitterly. "Yeah, as long as it's in the west, maybe. Ramsay just killed his father and pregnant step mother. Then Tickler shot me, Gregor shot at me, then Arya kicked our asses and shot us, stabbed us...she wanted to kill me! Ben saved us!" As if to remind them he was there and also to accept the compliment, Ben beeped from outside.

Ramsay finished grabbing anything they truly needed. "Reek anything you think you really can't live without you grab right now. We have to take off. If Gregor and his boys or fucking Arya come to finish the job, you won't survive, none of us will. Hurry the fuck up, honey." Reek looked devastated but he ran to grab a few pathetic things.

Robb tried to use the first aid kit with some success. He was able to treat and bandage his hand. He cleaned and bandaged his leg the best he could. Ramsay found Reek's old crutches and offered them. "How the fuck did I end up here? How the hell can I be running away with my brother in law whom I despise. And my old lover and now your pet." Robb shook his head and started to laugh more. Ramsay left him to it to go throw his stuff in Ben's trunk.

Chapter Text

Gregor knocked on the door of the study. He studied the diligently polished oak until he heard a soft, "Enter."


Waif had no trouble slipping past the men roaming about. She simply used the tunnels that led right out of their land onto a small field that belongs to the Starks. Climbing wasn't a problem, those old stones were sturdy steps and hand holds for her. Slipping onto the balcony of the bedroom, Waif entered the open glass doors. She went into the welcoming embrace of shadows and slithered along the wall.

Her target was sitting at a vanity dresser brushing out her long hair. Waif came on like a venomous spider, a deadly poisonous snake, intent upon her prey, silent in her rush for the kill. Waif drew the special weapon and was suddenly behind the target who widened her eyes in the mirror. The girl grabbed Cat's chin and pulled her head back. As the Waif prepared to slit the woman's throat she let her head stay down enough to watch in the mirror.

Cat had no time to react really, but she knew the knife, oh yes, she knew it. Because she fought for a month with Ned over gifting Jon with such an expensive, rare thing. A dragon glass blade was hard to come by and the thought that Ned went through that much trouble for the bastard had infuriated her. That very day that Ned gave it to Jon, it was his sixteenth birthday and her stupid husband tried to make it special. The kids made him a cake and they all went out for dinner, all of them but Cat.

That night she had given Jon her own birthday gift. She beat him with a riding crop while he licked and fingered her. He sobbed and twitched in pain which only sweetened it for her. Cat beat him until he bled in lines all over his back. He died with those scars upon his back. Yet here was his knife, his last fuck you to her. She tried to react and it was too late, the knife went through her neck like butter. The girl whispered, "For Jon." Cat died hearing those words.

The girl carefully cleaned her blade. It was a perfect payment, Waif didn't mind different forms of payment. When Jon had told Ygritte of what Cat was doing to him, she told another client of hers. She was recommended to Jon. Waif understands the pain that Jon went through, she had gone through it herself as a young girl.

So she sent back word that she would be willing to help him for a price. The blade was perfect and Jon's eyes held so much pain that Waif accepted only that blade for payment. She headed back into the tunnel towards Gregor's rather singed home. Wouldn't look right if she ran now, she hates being hunted.

Besides, to tell the truth, Waif is having so much fun here. Gregor and his men amused her with their bumbling ways. Why is it the largest and most deranged of testosterone filled men are the biggest babies deep down? Jaq might have had to deal with stuck up rick folk but Waif lucked out with putting herself into Raff's slave delivery. She enjoyed tending to Gregor and terrifying his men. Waif finished cleaning up the half house and was in bed waiting for her Master before Gregor finished his unpleasant dealings with Tywin.


Ten minutes. Ten mother fucking minutes. Gregor stood there, legs apart, hands behind his back with his eyes firmly locked on the window behind Tywin's head. There is no fucking way in the world that Gregor would ever look down, even Tywin knew better than that. But Tywin knew how far he could push and he was doing it.

He is doing this because it his what he does to his children and enemies. It was a unpleasant way to start any conversation and Gregor is already in his head. Locked and loaded, that fucking temper that gets him, used to get him in trouble.

Twenty. Sweet Mother of Mercy, I'll kill him. I can twist the old fuck's head right off like a dolly...a grandpa dolly.

Gregor started to take slow deep breaths.

Scratch, scratch, I will shove that pen in his fucking eye and I'm going to pull his eye out like a fucking lollipop and hand it to his cunt daughter, calm down before you sweat. I could just kill him, rape and kill his daughter and that red headed cunt. Keep Tommen and force him to sign everything to me. I could do it, I have the boys to back me up. I can do it and I need to calm the fuck down.

Twenty Five, he does this on purpose, he KNOWS MY FUCKING TEMPER PROBLEM! So it is a test or a humiliation it doesn't matter. Your own fucking boys, hell, that brat has taken your punishments but you can't take this? I. Am. Talking. To. Myself. Enough. Thirty, sorry but that is too fucking much and-how fucking DARE-"

Tywin looked up and spoke very mildly. "Those clothes looked good on you today. I am quite sure they felt even better than they looked. Do you still wake up suddenly at night afraid you won't feel silk? Do you still feel that prison rough woven cloth against your skin? Or rough workman pants that you wore whenever you weren't in some form of an institution?"

That was all it took and Gregor was calm, he was able to breathe and oh gods, he hated Tywin Lannister. But he was loyal, sweet gods, he had literally signed his life over to this man in order to never feel that again. To never think of it again.

The dreams had lessened but Gregor knows this will certainly pep those fucking dreams right up again.  Tywin smirked and Gregor stared straight ahead while imaging fluffy cute kittens playing in the blood of Tywin.

The man stood up and began to pace in front of Gregor, both of them with their hands behind their backs.

It's so we don't kill each other and I am loyal and won't bite off one of his ears. "I lost a man today. Francis Rivers." He managed somehow by some pure miracle to keep his voice level. "Arya Stark was disfigured by a bullet that grazed through her face. It does not impair her." Tywin nodded.

"I will write Francis's family tonight. Your men may take tomorrow for grieving along with you. I have called my brother Kevan and he is coming with some of his men. Take your day and use it well. Mourn your man and take a rest for all of you to reflect upon what it means to work for me."

Gregor gritted his teeth. Don't do it, do not smash his head like melon. Maybe I can just murder him a little, just a tiny bit of it, oh shit, looks like I am opening my mouth. Stick to words, do not bite him, do not bite and don't think about the fireplace with a little fire going even though it's fucking spring, you old fuck!

"Sir, we did the best we could with what you have given us. You set the limitations upon me when I advised you against it. I spent hours with that technician to create a system you wouldn't permit us to use during the celebrations. I asked you for more men while you had your party and you wouldn't let me!"

Tywin stared at Gregor as if he were a cat that decided to tap dance across the floor.

"I told you when we were coming South to take your very best men with us. Did you perhaps bring the wrong men? If I have too many men crawling like ants around our estates how do you think that will look? I PAY you and your men for your talents and your hard work. So explain to me how the boys got past you all with guns? Or how that many north men got to burning MY home and YOURS. Do not bother speaking back, Gregor. There is no excuse. My grandson was poisoned right in front of you. But it seems I have been failed all around. Ned is still alive and this is another vexing thing."

"Do you want me to kill him?" Gregor would gladly go and murder Ned if it would get him the fuck out of this room. "No. Not yet. He will be searching for both Robb and Rickon. Let him see if he can find them and if he does, well, then you have more targets. I want them all dead but it cannot look like a hit. So best to try for as many of them as you can at once so it can be some kind of accident."

Gregor nodded and started to not scream while ripping Tywin's arm off and beating him with it. He suggested doing that a fucking week ago and was told to be patient.

Tywin stopped directly in front of Gregor now.

"I don't care who poisoned my sadistic mad dog grandson. If it was Sansa, it will teach us to be a little more clever than she is. If it was Margeary then I certainly do understand why she did it. However, it doesn't help her innocence any that her brother kept apologizing for things. I have a feeling that Loras is the one who let the northerners in. So regardless of whether Margeary poisoned Joff or not, she and her brother will pay. Because they are guilty of at least half of this day's events. Find out what Loras knows, what he did that he is so sorry for. Report back to me on it. After you take your day off, of course."

Gregor was grinding his teeth to stubs and he thought about just reaching out and snatching Tywin's face off.

"How long will your brother be here, Sir?" I could just take the nose off and I bet he'd keep talking.

"I am not sure yet. He will be advising me since I seem to need a new perspective." Tywin's eyes clashed into Gregor's. I will stare into your eyes until you die and turn to fucking dust, old man.

Gregor's eyes drilled through Tywin's skull as those pale eyes tried to bore into his own. "Thank you for the day off to grieve for our fallen friend." Tywin nodded as their staring contest continued. "And?"

"No. We did the best we could, Sir. I will not apologize for a blunder we could have prevented with at least one of those requests had been approved." 

Tywin's eyes clashed with Gregor's and the testosterone filled the room.

Finally, Tywin gave a sharp nod. "Very well. We shall agree to disagree. You may go."

Gregor left in a haze of anger that carried him like a fuzzy warm red cloud to his half torched home. He stood outside for several minutes. He liked his new slave and if he is this angry he might kill or break her. That will only make things worse.

So he waited for twenty minutes before he went inside. He opened the door and saw Waif kneeling on the floor offering a semi soft whip up for him. He breathed deeply and felt himself turning that anger into something else.

Gregor took the whip from the girl. He ordered her to strip and lean face first into the wall, curling her arms over her head. The whole time that he whipped her, she never begged. Never asked for him to stop or for mercy. She screamed when it was bad but never even moved.

Afterwards when Gregor was fully relaxed and turned her around, her face wasn't just in painful twists. There was a look of peace in her eyes as if something was purged from her.

Chapter Text

Reek stayed curled in a ball under Ramsay's feet while Robb glared at him and Ramsay from his own hunched position upon a cage. Ben had his large kennel van and they were hiding in it as Ben drove. Reek felt it was all a dream, this was insane, they couldn't be running away from the north.

All of his friends couldn't have died. It wasn't possible, this was not real. Ramsay was the hunter, never the hunted, maybe Robb has decided to join his Master in a trick. Yes, if it was real then it was a game. Had to be.

"Who would be worse, my father or Tywin catching us?" Ramsay asked pleasantly. With a grimace, Robb responded, "Tywin." Snorting, Ramsay sounded a bit amused.

"Wrong. Your father will kill me and Reek the second he catches us. He will murder everyone that was near you then he will take you home. Daddy will give you a terrible punishment and then it will be on track again. Good son will be a good Stark pup. Well, until Tywin has you all killed. Now, if it's Tywin that gets to us, he wants you dead more than me."

Robb sneered and snapped back, "It wouldn't be Tywin though, it would be Gregor and the others..including Arya! I am sure that shot didn't kill her. They aren't going to bring you back to see Tywin to talk. They are going to slaughter us slowly." They are heading to meet Luton and Yellow Dick.

Robb shivers at both the sight and the name of that yellowish tattooed thin man. He moves like a praying mantis and his eyes are a piss yellow mixed with shit brown. His voice is offensive even when speaking politely. Luton looks like a short lunk but seems to have the intelligence for the both of them.

Leaning back and closing his eyes, Robb tries to understand how this is happening. They are heading out of the North at a rapid pace.

I am trying to outrun my father and the Mountain, along with his men. Along with my own sister.

He decided to doze then later he will try to figure out how this is happening.

My brother Jon is dead. All my brothers are dead, if Rickon is missing this long, he is dead. By Lannister, By Bolton, who knows, but he is dead. I was trying to do the right thing, save the North.

Dusten received a text as he stepped out of the shower. He smirked as he read out loud, "I heard you have a day off tomorrow to grieve for your fallen friend. I am very sorry to hear of your loss. I lost my son today too. If you don't mind staying up late, why don't you come to my room after telling Polivar that you'll take his shift. We can comfort each other."

Raff had been brushing his teeth, having only two bathrooms means a lot of sharing personal space.

"Are you kidding me? HER SON JUST DIED! HER SON! And she wants to fuck? Wow, dude, that is fucking cold. Yeah, she is hot for her age but still...I mean I am pretty cruel person and I know that. But to want to fuck after having her son die in her arms just a few hours ago? Wow. That is cold."

Dusten shrugged and finished drying off. "If you fucked her, you would understand that it doesn't matter how cold she is on the outside."

A snap of Raff's fingers and suddenly Jeyne appeared. As Raff set out the make up kit, Jeyne patiently knelt at his side. For her extreme loyalty, Raff had gifted the girl with knee pads and padded gloves to wear while crawling.

"I would rather have my girl to play with. At least I know at all times what she does, when she does it and why. She is so loyal, she killed her former lover for me. Cersei will use you then throw you away when she is done sucking the life out of you. She will get you in trouble, no doubt." Raff declared gently petting the head of the trembling girl.

Dusten looked down at the slave and shuddered. Her long black hair was in her face, nearly covering all of her features.  It looked like a scene from a horror movie. On occasion one eye just sort of appears through the hair like it just wants to check out things, maybe say fucking hi, who knows.

Every time it happens, Polivar leans forward with a smile and brightly asks, "And how is every little thing on Eyeball Island today, dear?" But it makes Dusten get creepy skin and he thinks of that movie The Ring. He thinks whatever Raff turned her into might indeed have a deadly heart.

Raff moves his hand in a upward gesture and the girl unfolds and stands. It isn't any less creepy than when she crawls and Dusten starts to hurry applying his hydration lotion. Raff moves the girl's hair out of her face and that doesn't help either, nope, sorry.

The girl has such a blank look, the eyes only see Raff. Only then do they seem to show any signs of life. It was a living doll, a breathing robot. He has heard Hotpie seem to have not just full conversations but even arguments with her. But not once did he hear her respond or watch and see any response.

"Dude, Cersei has fucking desire, emotion, she can speak, we both are excited, ya know?"

Sighing, Raff started to apply Jeyne's make up.

"I have told you before so many times...she has emotion, she does speak when I let her. She isn't a robot or unfeeling, just well trained. Don't bring up Hotpie. I told you, they have just learned a system of communication where Jeyne can obey my no speaking rule. It's like when twins have their own language. You watch way too much horror and science fiction, really. Well, enjoy your cougar but be cautious. I have to go and hopefully find a bunch of slaves that can build or at least use a fucking hammer."

Raff began to fix Jeyne's hair. Dusten used his body spray while keeping an eye on the creepy girl. "Someday your pet will scuttle across a ceiling, propelled by a demon or alien or hell, or just pure insanity run rampant. Then as we die I will tell you I told you so." He ducked as Raff threw a hairbrush at him.

Finishing the braid and yanking it so Jeyne head went backwards, Raff lightly kissed the top of her nose. The look and affection was that of a man to his favorite dog, his best bitch. "My girl would never crawl on the ceiling or kill us. Tell him if you would do those things, Jeyne." His voice was playful and affectionate and then a bit firmer when he ordered, "Free speech, Jeyne."    

To Dusten's horror, after the soft, Yes Master, the girl turned her head and for a brief moment looked straight at Dusten.

"I can hear every thing and understand every thing said and done around me. Hotpie and I have done what Master said. We communicate differently so I may obey my Master's orders. I will not scuttle across ceilings, I am not possessed, there is no alien in me and I would never kill my Master or any of you." Raff smirked then snapped his fingers. Jeyne was facing her Master again, waiting for further orders and Dusten knew nothing would convince him that she wasn't creepy.

Raff added earrings and a small stud in her nose as he started to complain to his friend who was now fixing his hair with the thrown hairbrush.

"Thank the gods that Gregor loves that perfect little slave I found him. Kept him from eating my head over those paintings. Now if you want to talk about a truly blank creature, look at Waif. She was what I found creepy. I mean not one mistake, no hesitation on any order? As if she anticipated everything I would ask or the others would do. At first I was suspicious. I interrogated her in case she was some bleeding heart journalist or investigator of some sort. Nothing. I used serum, I applied a bit of stressful testing...nothing. But I didn't want to keep her, I wanted to send her off to the highest bidder as fast as I could. I was THRILLED to give her away to Gregor."

Raff stood back and surveyed his work on Jeyne. "Good. Go in the bedroom and get out the red dress. Put on everything else, I will help you with the dress. Walk and be very careful of your face and hair. Good girl, go." Without a sound, the girl left the room and Dusten shivered.

"Both of them are fucking creepy, dude. Both of them. I'll stick with a devious cougar, thanks. Good luck with finding your builders. Maybe you should check at the lab you found Waif wandering in front of. Or maybe just grab a bunch of them and then sacrifice their souls to a demonic force or whatever you did to Jeyne. Just sayin."

Dusten didn't move fast enough and the hair straightener caught him in the left shoulder.

Raff smiled then said, "Cersei slept with her brother. And I was just thinking, you look an awful lot like him from a distance....and you ARE her cousin, right? She does love to keep it in the family."

Raff ducked then both swore when the hair straightener hit the mirror and it cracked.

Cersei was in a fine rage. It was as fine as silk, fine as the edge of a blade. It towered like a flickering, licking fire, it soared like a dragon and swept her away like the finest drug. Her father won't see her or speak with her, no one will and Joff is dead, still hard to believe and they were ATTACKED. Roose was killed, others died, the boys of the north decided to make a rush for it and nearly succeeded. It was intolerable, all of it.

Margeary killed her son, she was sure of it. Sansa didn't, Cersei KNOWS what the girl has been through. But that cunning cunt that poisoned her son, oh she always wanted him. Wanted to sink her claws into him and his money, make him cast his mother away. It would have destroyed her that she lost him a second time. Margeary's grandmother dumped her and so the bitch worked Sansa to let her in for revenge.

Letting her rage and the wine course through her, Cersei made a plan as her body became hungry and wet. She waited for Dusten. She still thought of him as Lancel, her cousin. The first few times she saw him after he joined Gregor's company she accidentally called him Lancel and he got mad at her for it. Lancel and his father had a huge disagreement over his future so Lancel ran away from home. He ran to his uncle then joined Gregor's company.

Until now, Cersei has never thought or cared much about her cousin. She only noticed those she had use for or had no choice but to notice. Her handsome Casanova turned bad boy cousin was amusing, but never of any real use. As kids she enjoyed his company because he was very amusing and that continued into adulthood.

But now she is seeing a real use for her pretty new boy toy, oh yes. The sex was pretty good and he was very handsome. That was all just nice side benefits. What really makes her hot and soaked is knowing she is owning his penis, owning his body and therefore making a blank slate to play with. That by just making a few gestures and words she can make these young fools do anything she wants.

It is the power of it that makes her shriek in orgasm, not the fine specimen providing the motions. Cersei wanted something very badly and Dusten was going to provide it. She will press all his buttons, make him come until all he can spout is dust. Then when he is blank eyed and ready to obey, eager to please, Cersei can get what she wants.

Dusten showed and Cersei gave him his first taste of Absinthe.  It was recipe from the original version of the drink or at least as close as they could get. She made the boy worship her body first, she always does, it is a nice easy way to establish who is running things. The high heels are always on, even when they fuck. Cersie loves to dig those heels into her boys, she loves to make them lick the bottom of her shoes and she makes Dusten do so know, very slowly.

Other things came next, involving a cock ring, hot wax, feathers, ice and every other vanilla thing that bores Cersei. But what doesn't bore her is the look on Dusten's face. That is what she is trying to find, what makes him go blank, what makes him hers. Watching him lose himself to things he didn't know he enjoyed was fun. And finding trigger that scare or irritate her victims is fun too, usually leads to them telling her their secrets. Nothing is triggering her cousin, he is riding this ride and enjoying it.

Cersei started to use her tongue, listening to the moans, searching for that thing that one last thing to make him hers. She licked him everywhere that buttons would be. Her mouth took in his cock, then his balls, her fingers traveled lower towards his ass. But Dusten didn't seem to like that. Dammit. Getting up and leaving poor Dusten tied to the bed, squirming in agonizing lust. She thought about removing the ball gag and letting him use words to tell her what he liked.

As much as she felt impatient, Cersei knew that would be a hollow victory. No, she will explore some other options. A riding crop. A belt. A light tasseled velvet flogger. All were enjoyed and none were the button. Fuck. She thought about putting on a gigantic strap on and running at him with a large smile. Watch him scream in terror, at least it is a major fucking reaction. That is what she needs, that major reaction. Come on, he really can't just like everything the same, she thought.

She rode him and choked him, that seemed to excite him a bit more than anything else. But it wasn't quite there, but almost. So what was it Cersei was missing? No, wait, it wasn't the choking that caused the extra bit of interest, ah ha! While Cersei was choking and riding him, she had accidentally moved her thumb the wrong way. She had sucked on it for a moment while choking him to soothe the ache. Leaping off Dusten with a grin at his tortured moan, she ran for the walk in closet.

A few moments later a naughty little girl with blonde ponytails that had huge pretty pink bows in them. Cersei was wearing a girl's ruffled nightgown that was way too small at the bottom. Her pussy peeked through the ruffles as she moved, as if playing peek a boo. Dusten's eyes glued to Cersei and she gave a little girl giggle.

Cersei climbed back on Dusten as if she were a curious naughty girl that wanted to play and with a sense of victory pressed every button the helpless boy had. When the last button was pressed and Dusten was shuddering blank eyed, Cersei screamed as she let an orgasmic rush of power rip through her. Then she held the poor thing as she gently removed his fuzzy cuffs and ball gag.

"I..I'm not really into little's not like that." Of course the hidden kink had to be instantly defended, it always goes that way. Cersei soothed Dusten and caressed his cheek.

  "Silly, I have that kink too, I mean why else would I have just sort of...known, right? And I can assure you that though I may have slept with Jamie, I have never molested a child. We didn't experiment with each other until our late teens. And I think it was because we shared this kink too." Cersei lied in solemn confidence to Dusten with a blush.

Now it was okay, it was permissible and Dusten let Cersei hold him and make it all better. Blank eyed, Dusten looking up at the only person who just knew, knew what he really needed and wanted. She looked back and gave a smile that promised so much more.

"My sweet cousin, I would ask you a small favor. I need someone to care, someone to understand the pain I have right now. Would you have some wine with me and listen to me? I one even bothered to talk to me, they just took away my son and sent me here to sleep."

The tears came, the wine came and Dusten drowned.

Chapter Text

It took Cersei less than twenty minutes and another absinthe before Dusten led her through the tunnels underground.

"Remember, only a few minutes and you can't injure them." Nodding, Cersei added brightly, "And I cannot kill them. Since you already frisked me for weapons, guess we are good. You don't need to keep repeating the damned directions, love. Heard you the first time. Now unlock the door. I just want to hear her side for myself. Then tomorrow I can hear Sansa's side. I need this, you said you understood that."

Dusten hurried to wipe the hurt look off her face by unlocking the door. "Alright..fine. Here, go in." Cersei swept past him as he turned on the lights. She shielded her eyes for a second as the two twins cried out and fell down covering their eyes. Patiently, Cersei waited until the two could see before moving or speaking.

"Hello, poppets. You don't look well at all. Oh dear, didn't they even leave you some water..or some way for Loras to clean himself a little? That is awful. I really am sorry about that and if I had any power over this, I would change it."

Margeary glared at Cersei. "Thanks for coming to gloat, bitch. Always leave it to you to kick someone after they are down." Tsking, Cersei began to circle Margeary. She had no fear the girl would attack her, not with Dusten looming over them.

"I am gloating, I love to gloat..but that isn't really why I am here. You see, I heard you accuse Sansa and that makes me very curious. I don't like her and I really don't like you. But I did love my son very much and I want to know who really killed my little boy. Physical torture gives whatever truth the torturer wants to hear. I want to hear the real truth, so please. Convince me it was Sansa. Then I will ask her to do the same."

The desperate girl's eyes showed the slight hint of hope and Loras was even sitting up now. That is when the elegant fist slammed hard into Margeary's mouth, rammed all the way in. It wasn't until Dusten pulled Cersei back that he even noticed that huge ring she always wore,that the glass stone was open.

Mageary began to cough and clutch at her throat, scratching deep wounds into her neck. Cersei watched in contentment as Loras rushed over and held his convulsing, dying sister, sobbing and screaming. Taking a few steps back, the woman gave a gentle smile to Mageary as the girl fell down and blood came out of her mouth, her eyes were bulging, vessels ripping apart in the whites of her eyes. 

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, shit, fuck..." Dusten stared at the girl scratching at the horrors in her throat. He started to rub his temples and think this through. "Why did you do that? Fuck, I need to call...oh fuck, Gregor. He'll kill me. I'm fucking dead. I am going to be fucking Francis now!"

Dusten was texting Gregor and babbling at her. "He's gonna kill me. Oh fuck, why, why did I fucking let you...fuck! Gregor is going to kill me! Your father will probably kill you!"

Cersei grabbed Dusten's face and whispered, "It is worth any punishment. It was my eldest son. My boy. It was my right to kill her. I am sorry you will get in trouble, but I am grateful that you were brave enough to help me do this. I will support you any way I can, Dusten. We can tell them it was all my fault."

He groaned, yeah, letting her take all the blame is how it will go and he can already feel the ghost of Tickler laughing at him. How does it feel to sink straight to the bottom, buddy?


"Aww, don't be a fucking baby! Come on, just look in the mirror! If you are going to keep me up all night, then at least amuse me. Take the damned bandage off and look!"

Brat scowled and within the soothing cocoon of painkillers she began to carefully remove her bandage. Sandor had to check for seepage and add ointment as ordered by Qyburn every two hours all night. So he was making everything a game to keep himself both awake and amused.

"You can remove it yourself this time around and then I'll add the ointment and re-wrap. But you might as well look and get used to it now before tomorrow when everyone sees you. Don't be a wimp, take a fucking look!" Sandor yawned and leaned against the wall, half asleep.

She shut her eyes at first then opened them and stared hard at the long red scar. It was swollen, blood red and made her look like an angry, scarred weasel. "Well fuck. I never looked pretty anyway." Sandor saw the tears that welled in her eyes and he rolled his own. He lumbered forward so he was filling the mirror behind her. Leaning down over her shoulder, his ugly visage appeared next to hers in the reflection.

"When I was young and my brother did this to my face and ear I cried my fucking ass off. For a week then never cried again. You can't afford a week to cry. So go on and cry all you want tonight, it's your only chance to."

Brat opened her mouth to swear and instead she shoved her back into his chest, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged while sighing loudly. "Go on, get it all out. Don't worry, I'll still fuck you anytime you want." Brat stepped back hard onto his foot and grumbled, "You smell. Maybe once you learn to wear deodorant we can fuck."

Then Brat cried for a face that was as torn up as the rest of her world. When she was done crying, she felt calm and empty. Like she would never care enough about something to cry over it again.


Tyrion sat in a chair waiting as his father continued writing at his desk.

The pen scratched and Tyrion recalled a funny joke, then a good movie and then an excellent book. After that he counted sums and began to softly hum. He eyed the carafe of wine but when he tried to reach for it the pen had stopped and his father just stared at Tyrion's hand. With a disgruntled sigh Tyrion let go of the wine and had leaned back in his chair again. 

After a full half hour, Tyrion broke.

"Father, it is very late and I am very tired. It is a troublesome time, yes, but sleep heals all they say. So what do you want?" Tywin peered up then seemed to finish what he was writing for another moment before putting his pen down. "You want to drink, not sleep. With your little buddies that you call friends and employees. Which I find ridiculous of course, you cannot be friends with your workers, but you will discover that on your own."

Tywin put his hands on the table and leaned over slightly and stared down with clear disapproval of his son.

"It's time you grew up and stopped acting like an overage teenager. You must earn this elegance you live in. Sansa needs about six months before she can publicly come out of mourning to show affection or an engagement to another. You will marry her in private tomorrow. Your uncle Kevan will be here and can be the witness to it. We shall keep it private until the end of the six months. But we cannot let Sansa go back home and her father and mother will insist she does if she isn't tied to us."

Tyrion's jaw dropped. He held up a hand then responded very slowly and clearly.

"Let me get this right, let me really understand what you are saying, father. You are making a traumatized, abused young lady who's abusive fiance just died in her arms marry me. Someone who is old enough to be her own dad, never mind the extremely obvious other objections to this! Is that what you are saying? All to keep her from going home."

Tywin gave a tiny humorless smile.

"Yes. You understand. Good. You always were a clever, smart boy. Now you shall comply. You may tell her yourself since you are understanding it so well. Tell her tonight or after breakfast, but you will tell her and you marry her." 


Sansa strode fast back and forth across her room, red hair whipped behind her when she would turn. An angry swirl of fire and Sansa breathed in small bursts, her manicured nails pressing hard into her fists. This won't do, this can't do. The building of a fiery triumph, a furious joy and yet somehow she was in pain. It hurt because she played it for so was very hard not to believe in Joff as her whole hellish world.

To her shame, there was a part of her already gone, that was his. He broke her body and for a small time he took her power. Sansa would flinch and beg so easily, it started to be safe to always please him, everything had to be safe. It became her world for so long that part of her was still there.

As soon as she woke up, she flew out of the bed. Sansa fought the sedative and drank three energy drinks from her small personal fridge. She brushed her hair a little but not as smooth or nice as she normally would. Sansa put on a very conservative and innocent nightgown with a matching robe. White, pink and a touch of gold, it was over sized and made her look younger than her real age.

Sansa knew that either Cersei or Tywin or perhaps both at separate times, would show up. Cersei will want to hear the details of how guilty Margeary is. Tywin will want to hear if Sansa is positive of her facts against Margeary or to speak of her staying with them. Or it could even be one of her parents demanding that she return home. That is the worst of all the thoughts in her hectic, excited mind.

No, I need to be upset, Joff had become my world. I need to seem lost, sad, helpless and scared. Fragile yet angry with Margeary's deception and feeling guilty to have trusted her. I need to convince them to let me stay, not to be tossed back into the clutches of my parents. And I look high, I look happy and that cannot be seen. But I am so tired, so fucking sick of the act, it hurts, it is chipping away at me and ripping some of my parts away. What will I be when I finally achieve my goals?

These are bad thoughts and not what Sansa needs. It may be late at night but that is when the high society does their worst deeds. That is when they make secret plans, pass messages, have secret meetings, hurt, maim and murder. And someone will certainly knock on her door for a private matter tonight.

So Sansa needs to look exactly like an abused, confused and scared widow. Longing for her abuser because she has become so accustomed to his orders. As Sansa paced she tried to cast her mind back to something very sad and scary that happened to her recently. One day Sansa was looking for Arya to discuss the wedding.

She was informed that Arya could be found training at the center near the Barracks. Sansa hadn't walked beyond the gardens before. It was her first foray towards the men's quarters. She saw the square looking gym but then Sansa saw Jeyne. Without any thought, Sansa rushed forward and called, "Jeyne! It's me, Sansa. Hey, Jeyne."

Sansa froze when she noticed Jeyne flinch hard then curl into herself. Jeyne was sitting with a boy, shucking corn on the back steps of the Barracks. Sansa had heard the boy talking and assumed Jeyne had responded. She sees the scars, the bruises, how thin Jeyne was. Jeyne's hair covered her face and most of her curled body. When they were in school and afterwards when she was with Damon, Jeyne was always proud of her thick black hair.

She would braid it, decorate it,style it in complicated ways to show it off. Now it looks barely brushed. Sansa remembered Jeyne has being fun, sarcastic, loud, rebellious and just a bit dangerous. This girl can't be Jeyne, it must be a mistake.

The boy stood up. Now Sansa remembered this boy, Arya's friend, but she remembered him much heavier. He only seems husky but the face was the same as was the self important pleading whine.

"She can't talk to you. She doesn't speak unless Raff gives her permission." Piggy waited patiently for the inevitable questions.

Sansa moved a little closer but Jeyne curled fully under her hair. Stopping again, Sansa asked, "Where is Raff? I will ask him for permission to speak with me." Now the girl began to let out a small whimper and Sansa knew she was about to bolt if she continued in in this way.

"Please don't scare her like that. Jeyne isn't allowed visitors. She isn't allowed to speak without permission and if you make her upset, her discipline will be on your shoulders. Try living with that kind of guilt, it builds." Piggy gave a humorless smirk and Jeyne gave a tiny giggle from behind her hair. The boy was careful to move so he was blocking her now and Sansa had blinked away tears and nodded.

"I understand. I am sorry. If there had ever been any way....I really am sorry, Jeyne."

Sansa fled then cried in the shower over it. Raff had promised her that for a wedding present he would let her have a visit with her friend. If she didn't poison Joff before the wedding happened, would Raff have keep his word and leave her alone with Jeyne? Maybe she could ask Joff to intervene or...something, to save Jeyne, or ask Joff to buy Jeyne for her? Or just simply steal Jeyne and suffer whatever fucking hell her husband would put her through for it.

And Sansa had cried harder because she knew that she couldn't wait. Not for a second longer than the wedding dinner to end this torment. Like any good performer she is beyond tired. She is burnt out and a hollow shell is left. Her own personality is become lost and she is confused, tired. Suddenly, she is believing the fake her is the real one.

The real Sansa is terrified too. She is willing to do anything Joff wants just please don't hurt me anymore. It started to be easy to forget, to just sink down and hope that she won't give Joff any reason to hurt her.

Raff will keep Jeyne and Sansa has to live with that. She can only save one person. And that person must be herself. Jeyne is already broken and Sansa fears if she delays any longer she will be like that too.


When the knock on the door came, Sansa was ready for it. Her eyes were red and large tears rolled down her cheeks. In her shining eyes, was guilt, pain and a fear of who or what she is now. 

Chapter Text

When Raff returned with Jeyne he was boasting of how he managed to actually find some actual builders. The builders got to pick among the other slaves who they think would work well. They were given a full hot meal and a bed for eleven hours of rest.

Raff murmured to Jeyne, "That is the last time they will sleep well for a long time. Until those homes are fixed. Aren't you so grateful that you were never thrown into the slavers hands." His voice cooed as if he were reading her a loving poem." Jeyne instantly agreed, shivering at the horrific warning. He grinned and petted her head.

He sat down with Polivar and they began to play cards. Polivar sighed after awhile and said, "Can you let Jeyne go have a fucking play-date with Piggy? Just for annoying the fuck out of me, he has earned himself a good old fashioned ass paddling later. So can they just have their creepy little chat so Piggy will stop THE FUCKING PUSSY POUT! AND STOP WITH THE COUNTER!"

Piggy had backed up from the counter he had been washing for the last thirty minutes. His face was resolute, it was resigned and it was in full pout but he jumped when Polivar yelled. "Sorry, Master." He muttered.

With a snort, Raff shot Piggy a look but he softly spoke to Jeyne. She had been still and silent, kneeling at his side, back in her regular clothes and knee pads. "Jeyne, go play. Be. very. good." Jeyne cringed onto her stomach then squirmed to kiss and lick Raff's boot to assure him of how good she will be. "Good girl. Go play." Raff gave her a firm but somehow comforting pat on her head and now it was alright to really go.

Jeyne knew her rules, she knew to obey. She knew how all the games go now and she knows what her Master likes. Most importantly she has learned what Master doesn't like. Master doesn't mind that Jeyne is friends with Piggy but sometimes he snaps no. He will search to find any small reason to punish her afterwards. So Jeyne is always very grateful and submissive when her kind Master allows her to see a friend.

Master whispers that to her later after she sees her friend. He will whisper it while Master tries a new toy or game that will make her beg and cry. But it was worth having a friend. And it is something that Polivar threatens to take away from Piggy if he angers him. A burnt dinner can cost a strapping and the loss of a visit.

Jeyne crawled and Piggy swallowed hard then beckoned to the girl to go out to the porch. Polivar suddenly yelled, "You better not be smoking back there again, Piggy!" "No, Master. I wouldn't dare do that, I swear it. I just want the fresh air, we won't go off the stairs. Please? It is within our limits, Master. Please?"

Piggy wrung his hands and Jeyne simply waited, kneeling. She looks as if she didn't care of the outcome. Silent, head down, her face if seen,  would be submission, fear and simple understanding. It was a slave look and that was what Jeyne was. She might not live in those horrid conditions those others did but she was a slave as much as them. It has been accepted and the fear simply became a part of who she was.

Raff wasn't just her Master, he was her God. And deities are known to be loving and very cruel as well. Jeyne was grateful to be the slave that serves. The look is of a disciple, a priestess, of a young nun that serves with desperate belief that this is the way to be loved, to recieve mercy. And she truly was grateful to be allowed the mercy of having a friend to communicate with. That she can connect with and enjoy trying to talk to.

It was her only small link left to sanity, to having a moment where someone else can bring her out a little. To remind her what being a human meant. To make her mind work again, get the gears going.  At first it was all Piggy talking and Jeyne shaking or nodding her head timidly. As it seemed to be fine, not a trick of some sort, Jeyne began to try and find a way to speak.

Piggy tried to bring out small pieces of paper and a pencil stub. They were so scared that one of the men would come out and suddenly there would be a rule against writing. So after he hurried and read whatever Jeyne scribbled, he ate the paper.

That wasn't going to work. Using hand signals will catch their Masters eye's and everything they say will be known. And it probably would annoy the shit out of Polivar. He always is yelling at Piggy for moving his hands when he talks.

So they needed codes, something no one but them would ever see or notice. Piggy could speak and then read what Jeyne said back to him. And if Piggy wanted to say something privately he himself would use the code. What do they have plenty of and no one would thing anything about?

Scars. Wounds. Bruises. Each kind of damage has a full meaning to it, even noting it's severity. If Jeyne were yelling at Piggy, such as when he was smoking, she would have indicated to him her deep scar on her upper arm. It indicated "Hey asshole, do you want a fucking whipping? Cause Polivar will be so happy to give you one! You stupid ass monkey!"

Piggy must supply his own words for what she means, but he is sure he always gets it correct. At least most of the time. The different lashes upon her body can create an alphabet. Fingers sweep across the different lashes when no one is looking and Piggy gets real words. But it can take forever to put a sentence together. They learned each other though and that helped. Body language did a great deal of talking for Jeyne.

Jeyne crawled onto the cool wooden boards of the porch then sat on the colder step. Piggy sat so close that he crowded her. She was about to shove him away when he whispered into her ear, "I killed Tickler." Jeyne was very deliberate as she touched each whip line and Piggy read the word out loud. "Good."

Piggy burst into silent tears and Jeyne held him tightly as if he were a child. She stroked his hair and rocked him back and forth.

Gregor was having another rare but needed visit to the frustrated technician. They didn't enjoy each others company but both empathized deeply with the others frustrations concerning Tywin. "Where are they now?" Gregor asked, looming over the smaller man who was trying to make his fingers go faster than light speed.

"If you could sit down or at least not breathe in my ear I would be able to concentrate better, Gregor." The voice was polite, but it was firm and fearful at the same time.

"Boy, I could squish your head with one hand." Gregor snarled. The tech flinched a bit at that but replied, "Yes you could. But if you do that then there is no one else to do this for you. So who do you want to kill more? Me? Or the men that are almost out of the North?"

The giant seemed to consider this with a puff of air upon the head just below him. It ruffled his hair and the tech cringed. Gregor stepped back and stood straight. "Don't make me repeat the fucking question."

The tech showed Gregor a green dot upon the map on the screen. "Okay there they are. Once they cross that line up ahead they are out of my range. So tell me when, please."

As soon as Raff had come outside and understood what had happened, he ran. Past the burning houses, past the Barracks. He skidded and turned to the basement of his home and yanked it open. Grabbing a small metal case, Raff ran to find the getaway car.

He crept up behind the white van and very carefully squirmed under the metal that ticked as it cooled and heated. Raff attached the tracker and a small bomb. After he left the area, he texted Gregor it was done.

The tech has not only created this himself but actually hand made the bomb. Licking his lips, carefully, so carefully the man's fingers caressed the buttons that would turn the van into a fireball. Gregor saw that the dot was just a half mile before losing range. He opened his mouth and his phone alerted him to an urgent text. Face sweaty and twisted in oily need, the tech waited while Gregor checked his text.

"Motherfucker. I'm gonna kill him. Tywin's gonna fucking kill him. Kevan will kill him. Stupid prick." Gregor stared with narrowing eyes as the tech spoke. "Actually, you can only kill someone once. But you could all kill him together, at the same time. Please, can I press the fucking button before we lose them?" The man's voice was high pitched and strained now.

Gregor nodded and the boy pressed the button while grinning happily at the giant. "And they all go boom!" he said and gave a twitch. Oh gods, he had a fucking hard on and he tried to hide it under his desk. "Bout fucking time you blew them up." Gregor grumbled. "I can't deal with your drama anymore. I have to go kill an idiot."

Pausing, he will need this little shit again and the pussy was shaking in indignation. Gregor managed to speak in a civil tone in spite of his anger. "Thank you for all your hard work. It was really brilliant and I am sure we shall have need of it again. You did a great job, Olyvar."

The man coolly responded, "You are welcome. That is why Petyr recommended me after all. Because I am the best. And thanks to me, your wayward runaway boys have been located and eradicated."

Gregor shook his head and left before he broke that smug, brilliant, little shit into a million pieces.

Ramsay, Robb and Reek all stood with dangling arms, jaws slack as they stared at the fiery carnage that a moment ago was Ben's van. Ben had stayed in it idling the engine while the boys used a bathroom and bought some drinks and snacks. They figured they were far enough, almost at the line into the east. Bladders emptied, snacks and drinks neatly packaged in the bag, all is well and then boom.

"Oh fuck...they would have..." Robb managed then Reek said weakly, "Master...we need to run, get to the trains or subway or something, we need to go right now. Please!" Ramsay nodded then grabbed onto his pet and shoved Robb hard. They ran, following the train tracks until they found the gated arch of the staircase leading down.

With a sob of relief, Reek nearly collapsed against Ramsay, who simply lifted him over his shoulder. He kept going, running down the stairs, Robb already ahead of him. They ran through tunnels, stopped to buy tickets and then waited for a ride out of hell. The train slowed and stopped while a crowd poured out to leave. Robb weaved through them and Ramsay rammed through them to get inside the last train.

"Shit. Shit. Master, oh gods Master, it's Mr. Stark! Ned, it is him!" Reek screeched as he pressed his face against the window. Robb looked out the window and paled. "It is him. And he is going to get on the train, this one." Robb's voice was quite calm even if he wasn't. The three stared at each other for a moment before they ran into the next attached car. Through the doorway they can see Ned getting on amid the crowd.

Chapter Text

Ned watched them as he swung into the car they were in. He stopped at the entrance and just tried to asses them. If only he could fully get rid of all emotion. Having Jon die and Rickon disappear, his girls not even recognizable to him, Robb was his last hope. Not only his first born son, but his only son maybe left.

He remembers Robb as a little boy how he looked up to his father. He remembers holding his son on his knee and reading to him. Even when the whole terrible thing with Theon had happened, Robb adjusted, he surrendered in the end. Where the hell was the moment when he let Robb slipped through his fingers?   

I can't kill my own son, I love him and I need him. I pity him, I fucking pity them all. Ned watched as the three trembling young men looked stripped of age in their fear. Ramsay was the first shield, a mad dog grin on his feral face. His eyes were icy challenge, they were ready to go out in a blaze of glory if need be. Yet, he is holding a bloody side and he is hurting.

The broken thing that had been Theon was hiding behind Ramsay's back and Ned thought the boy was about to have a heart attack. Robb looked sick, his face was ashen and waxy, his eyes were hollow sockets and his leg was swollen, covered in bloody bandages. His hand is also covered in bloody bandages.

Robb also had pupils that were blown and Ned knew how the wounded young men kept going. Drugs and adrenaline are making them fly.

Ned looked at the sweat soaked hair, the eyes numb and hollow with fear and defeat. Their trembling limbs and fierce snarls, even the little broken one was baring some teeth at him. They slowly continued through the train into the next one as Ned followed in their path.

He wanted to show mercy. Just grab Robb and tell him if he goes with him he will let the other two go. Let the Lannisters go after them and do the dirty work for once. He just wants to get his son home. If only he could reach his boy, speak to him, something.


Sansa sat at her vanity but faced Tyrion, the last person she had expected to see at her door. She listened calmly as Tyrion explained awkwardly about his father's demands. "The good news is, I do not believe in ever hitting a woman, nor verbally abusing one and I certainly will never rape you."

With a gentle smile, a very timid one but one that seemed like a promise, Sansa spoke. "I agree of course. I wouldn't go against your father, that is one thing I have learned here. Tywin Lannister does not take no for and answer."

Tyrion smiled back and nodded. "That is true. So I shall see you in the morning and we can discuss this a little more before we are married, I hope." Sansa nodded and smiled back. "As you wish." Tyrion gave her a small look of sympathy.

"You won't always have to agree with me, you know. I enjoy a good debate on occasion." She gave a small bitter laugh. "I'm sorry, Tyrion. I'll get used to this. I just...I'll get there. I will." Sansa gave a brave grin as Tyrion left.

As soon as her new fiance left the room, Sansa huddled under the thick covers on her bed with a pillow. Then she screamed into the pillow several times. This was not good. Tyrion wasn't bad, keep him drunk and passive, he wasn't a bad choice at all. Except for one thing. He is clever and has a knack for seeing through other clever acts.

Sansa has easily avoided him as Joff hated his uncle and stayed away from him. Once they are married, Tyrion will start to see through her charade. And once he knows the truth of her, what will he do or think? She calms and pulls her secret cell phone from inside the bottom mattress. Sansa shuddered as she hit the button.

I need advice. I am faltering here. It's time to make THAT call. Why does it always scare me when I call? Because someday, when I least expect it, payment will be called in for all of it, for every call, every assist, every syllable from every word of advice. Bill to be paid in full. And here I am calling again to add to it. Fuck. 


Shit stained, vomit stained, sweating, stinking, sobbing Loras held his dead, vomit covered, blood drenched sister. He clutched her and hovered over her as if to protect even her corpse from their enemies. He paid little attention to the monsters anyway, they were in their own drama and not coming near him or his sister yet. 

Gregor slammed Dusten into the wall with one large hand on his throat. Dusten's feet kicked the wall as if to climb it as his hands tried to clutch at the meaty hand strangling him. His hands suddenly looked absurdly puny and ineffective. Then Gregor stuck his face in Dusten's, teeth bared. Oh fuck, he's going to bite my face off!

Dusten flinched as Gregor began to growl and the teeth gnashed. It slowly occurred to Dusten that the growls were words.

"You let Cersei kill Margeary. You took her in our private tunnels that NO ONE is to know of. You destroyed two priceless paintings. I am a very angry man right now, Lancel." Dusten's stomach, heart and other various organs all sank in squishing despair. Nothing is worse than your mates calling you by your old name...but to have Gregor do it?

"I'm sorry, I was wrong and stupid, Sir!"Dusten tried to to respond but it came out like a mouse squeaking. Gregor tilted his head and stared at Dusten as if he just watched a mouse turn into Minnie Pearl with a beard, singing Country Roads.

"You have angered me. You have angered Tywin, which angers me just that much worse. And guess who is here in the morning, Lancel? Your daddy is coming in the morning, sweetpea! Isn't that something wonderful? He is coming to see what a fuck up you are, which means he is coming to see what a fuck up we all are. And the fact that your father is here in the morning is the only reason you aren't getting all your bones broken tonight."

Gregor pulled Dusten away from the wall then dropped him to the ground. In a croaking voice, Dusten tried to plead while reaching out a hand on the floor. "Sir..don't let my father take me home! I am your man and I can take any punishment, work harder and-" The croak became a startled scream bit off. A very large boot crushed Dusten's hand into the floor, bones crushed inside bruised and bloody flesh.

Leaning down over Dusten, he growled, "The boys and the brat, my own brother, none of them have suffered the punishment I am going to give you. There is no leaving, fucking moron! You only leave this company the same way Tickler did. Understand? Now shut the fuck up. Are you crying? You are crying. I'm so sorry, munchkin, I am just all out of tissues today. I used my last bunch to jerk off to your mommy."

Snarling in disgust, Gregor got off Dusten's broken hand. "Uh oh, princess. Looks like you broke your hand, oh, was that your gun hand? Oh good, it isn't. I'm glad. Otherwise, daddy might insist on having you heal at home. But it isn't, so phew, right? Now, why don't you pull up your big boy pants and stand the fuck up? Look at you, snotty, all teary eyed." Gregor slowly shook his head. "Maybe you should go home, Lancel. Take a break. Think things over. Fuck a few more cougars and see how life works for you. Clearly you are gigolo material."

Dusten shook his head as he stood straight, trembling but no longer crying. "No Sir. I don't want to leave my company." Gregor came closer and squinted his eyes. "Are you sure, sweetie? Because you seem really lost, you know? Maybe some therapy, or some time to meditate? We really are a loving family, but sometimes one of our precious sweetlings just falls away for a while." Gregor's nose was against Dusten's.

"No, Sir. I am fine and wish to stay with my company." Dusten's voice shook, but clear and calming. Moving away, Gregor snarled, "I am so glad to hear that, pumpkin. Now, you get to do the clean up and that includes getting that slimy fucker naked and hosed down. Move!"


It was the end of this train route and three desperate kids were ready to leap to get away from a very stern looking parent. Theon thought it was funny but he couldn't laugh. Tears were running down his face but Robb was crying too. The coke made them focused and faster and the painkillers made them not care about bleeding or grinding broken bones.

Reek was cuddling his broken fingers he received from Ramsay the other night for dropping and breaking a plate. That is how panicked his Master had been about making this plan work. Now it was all gone, Ramsay failed and Reek has no idea what Ramsay might to do him for that. Ramsay told them to jump the second those doors opened and they did, all landing in a fucking jumble. Reek giggled crazily and Ramsay gave him a quick slap on the face. "No! Reek, you focus!"

Ramsay grabbed the giggling boy and zombie Robb. He decided that Robb needed a good slap too. It seemed to sharpen Robb's eyes and he glared at Ramsay's satisfaction. "Fuck you, Ramsay." Not caring, Ramsay ordered them to run and he again grabbed arms. One with tone and muscle, the other more like grabbing the arm of a skeleton. They saw Ned getting off the train just as they began to run. When Ned gave chase, Reek almost screamed out loud and his feet became a blur.

They tried to run up the stairs, meld into the crowd but there was Ned's fucking head bopping here and there in the crowd. Gasping for breath, staggering, Ramsay pulled them towards another tunnel, another train. "Listen we can go to Pyke, see Theon's family." He gasped as he threw Reek over a turnstile and then jumped over it. Reek shook his head. "No, my father died, remember Master? My sister and my uncle are fighting for control of the Islands. If I show up it looks like I am trying to claim the control for myself."

Ramsay growled then said, "This train and the next will get us to a ship. Let's visit far away, huh? Wanna see Dorne? Or fucking Mereen? Pick any location, just do it as you keep moving!" Robb had gone over the turnstile and was staring at Ramsay and Reek. "We have no idea where to go or what to do. What the fuck are we doing? We could try to negotiate with my father." Shoving Reek back, Ramsay started towards Robb just as his appeared at the end of the tunnel.

Grabbing Robb by his cheeks, hands flat but forceful, Ramsay whispered fast into his face. "Here is what your father will do. He will agree to things, then the second he gets his hands on you, he will kill Reek and myself. Is that what you want? If it is, fine. Stay here and go home to daddy and Reek and me will keep going. Your parents sold your sisters, they murdered Myrcella, a little kid. What do you think Ned is going to do to us? And to you, you might find yourself hiding in an institution for a bit. You might go away for a little bit. You know how it goes."

Shoving Ramsay away, Robb mutters, "Fine, let's fucking move then. I'm a criminal now anyway. Let's go." Ned was out of breath as he headed towards his son. There was his boy, leaning against the turnstile talking to Ramsay. Theon was standing a few feet behind them near the shadows. Stopping, Ned tried hard to fill his lungs. If only Robb would hear him, maybe...maybe. "Robb! Wait! I will make a deal! You come here. I will let them go, I swear it."

Robb stopped and turned to reply rudely to his father, Ramsay again shoved Reek way behind him. "Don't bother, Robb, keep running." He pleaded but Robb needed his closure, even if it meant a bullet. As Robb took a step forward he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Ramsay turned but not in time. The only one who actually saw the black clad and hooded man slip out of the shadow and slit Reek's throat was a shocked Ned. As soon as that blade finished it's lovely, neat line, the man melted back into the shadows and was gone.

Ramsay gave a high pitched scream and grabbed Reek as he fell. He tried to kiss Reek as his hand tried to somehow tried to staunch the fatal wound. "No, Reek! You don't have permission to die! Reek, Look at me, please! Reek, don't make me ask twice, oh gods, please...Reek, please!" Robb staggered over and with horror stared at the dead Theon. A man he loved, a boy he grew up wanting and adoring. He gave a harsh laugh then looked over at his father.

"Finally. You managed to do what you and mother have tried to do all my life. Kill the one person I have ever truly loved. You did it. Wow. Great timing, Dad. Nice." Robb's eyes looked like burnt out holes and his words were flat as if meaning meant nothing. Ramsay let his boy go onto the dirty cement and he stood up, covered in his pet's blood. Tears ran down his face and his eyes were already dead. Ned tried to deny it, he had certainly thought about putting a hit on Theon, but he never did.

"It wasn't me, son. Ramsay, I didn't do it, why would I?" Ramsay barked out a thing that was almost a laugh and snarled out, "He was helpless, he never has hurt anyone, he only wanted someone to love him and care for him! It wasn't Theon's fault that Robb fell in love with him! It wasn't Reek's fault that I fell in love with him! He was innocent. Why? You would do it so the problem is gone! Your wife would order it just to hurt us in a way that won't physically injure her precious but naughty son!"

That reasoning alone convinced Robb and Ned shook his head in despair. "No, don't do it, Robb! Please!" Robb and Ramsay swung out their guns and so did Ned. If Reek had still been alive he would have made a sarcastic or funny comment on the fact that all three of the killers were crying as they fired.


As a clocked ticked and it informed Jaq it was quarter past four in the morning. He picked up the cell phone he will destroy soon and made a quick call.

"Yes?" "It is done." "Thank you." Asha hung her phone and tried to drink her guilt away.

Jaq destroyed the phone and the clothing, anything that made Jaq. Then a plain business man took a bus to an airport.

He wondered why Waif was hanging around there, but then again that girl was known to go off the rails a bit. If there was trouble, she knows how to contact their group. Jaq got to the private airport. As he entered the plane, he became Harold.

Chapter Text

Cersei sat in the hard wooden chair listening to the scratching of her father's pen. In the past when she was called to the study, she tried to play all sorts of games to try and out-wait her father. It always failed. Though she liked to think that her brothers always broke before her when they were all together called to account. On many occasions Tyrion was the one who remained completely composed but he never counts anyway. 

She would tap out songs, math questions, recite to herself favorite bands, their members, her favorite movies played in her head. Cersei would finally weaken and would wail, "Can I at least have a tissue? Or something equally stupid and then her father would look up with that fucking triumphant smirk.

But not today, not the woman sitting on a chair looking out the window at the pale pink sky. 

A black plain dress that fell to the floor, long sleeves, reasonable cleavage. Cersei's hair was in a messily made braid and her face was only graced by the pink cold light from the window.

Tywin has never seen his daughter appear before him undone, not since she was at least eight. She never twitched, never moved or cast her eyes about. There were no breathing exercises nor any other technique many have tried. They have no idea he has a tiny mirror in a fake award he gave himself.

So many years he has enjoyed this trick of waiting until his victim is nearly crazed then he pounces. Only Tyrion ever managed to stay composed once he hit his teens. Oh how that pissed Tywin off and whatever punishment was coming was instantly doubled.

He watched Cersei with concern. Not a movement that was stressed. He looked up and stopped writing. Cersei didn't even look at him until Tywin cleared his throat.

"Yes, Father? You called for me?" Tywin stared at her for a second as he tried to keep his temper.

"Young lady, you killed MY prisoner last night. Margeary was to be questioned before killed." Tywin's voice was inner Cersei's dreaded Daddy voice. That usually quells any resistance in a heartbeat.

Not this time, instead Cersei gave a dry laugh. "Young lady? I haven't been young for quite awhile. Yes, I killed the bitch that killed my son. You should thank me for it, now you only have one whiny twin left." Cersei went back to staring out the window.

Tywin snapped to his feet, full height and strode from behind the table. He grabbed Cersei by her arm and yanked her to her feet.

"Look at me. Right now." Tywin glared at Cersei who glared back and then spoke. "I don't have time for your fucking eye challenge games today. Do you remember that my son died? MY SON DIED! That is all I care about right now. You want to punish me for it, go for it! I don't give a flying fuck what plans you have! Right now I don't give a shit for your orders. Leave me alone to grieve!"

Cersei shoved forward towards her father and her bones seemed to sharpen in the early yellow lines. "I know you can't comprehend this well, so let me try it this way. Remember how it felt when mother died? That gut wrenching fucking pain-"

Tywin's hand came down with a crack on Cersei's cheek. "Don't you ever..." He stopped. His voice was nearly trembling, his eyes almost started that sting. "I have told you before never to do that. Remember that brand on your left ass cheek? Was that not enough of a reminder?"

Cersei looked back up and Tywin expected his girl to apologize. "Fuck you. Today is mine. Today I will grieve for my son and you will not take that from me. Go on and beat me, rape me, brand me, sodomize me, share me around, I don't care. I will think only of Joff today."  Tywin stared and so did his defiant daughter.

He finally gave a stiff nod. "Fine. Have your day to grieve. When it is over we will get to your punishment for killing the granddaughter of Olenna Tyrell and this behavior." Cersei gave her father the most threatening smile he has ever seen towards himself. "Thank you. And I don't care what that dried up cunt thinks of it all."

She pulled away from her father and simply walked out of the room without word or expression. Tywin huffed and put his hands behind behind his back, pacing.

It isn't a real concern. After all, that was Cersei's favorite child and losing him must be hard. Once she has her day of grief she will return to normal. Oh, he cannot wait until it is time for her punishment. And Cersei will remember her place and act like herself again.


Kevan was not happy. Dear gods, it was chilly here, half the roads had so many trees around them that he was nearly claustrophobic. Maybe it will all look better in the sunlight. He had taken the red eye in.

Tywin better appreciate this, by the gods to drag me to this place! Who cares that the little monster was dead? They should be throwing a party not a funeral! They should give the girl who did it a million dollars and set her up somewhere far away. At least shake her fucking hand before a quick execution.

The mansion loomed over him and he gasped. It wasn't a mansion nor was it anything like the high rise he lives in. It was right out of some Gothic novel, like a fortress. Kevan got out and straightened his suit while his men got his bags. He looked at the piles of stones that were trying to make a dwelling and sighed. "Again, my apologies for this minor detour from our normal work. As distasteful as these people are, they are still family. Family is important."

His men nodded with true feeling and understanding.

The one carrying Kevan's luggage had been allowed to take months off while his child was sick. In fact, Kevan had paid for a surgery that saved his daughter's life. The one that drove and is now watching for anyone threatening his boss, his father has Alzheimer disease. Kevan gave all the time off needed and paid for the best private nursing home for his father.

The third man that was carrying Kevan's lap top and carry on bags, he has a son with autism. Kevan got the boy the best doctors, the best therapies and a private school that buses him everyday. He never disciplines his employees when days are missed or they suddenly need to leave. Not when it has to do with their family.

These three men would give their lives for this man and were prepared to kill anyone in this stone castle that threatened their boss.


Ramsay coughed blood and tried to crawl to his boy. He died in the arms of the skinny dead boy he promised to protect.

Ned was sobbing out loud like a fucking pansy and couldn't help it. The pain didn't matter, the blood pouring out of him didn't matter. He was squirming, now crawling to reach his son. Robb was against the wall, his legs splayed, head cocked to the left.\

"Robb? Son? Daddy's coming, it's alright, I'll fix it. I always tell you and I always do, right? Robb, please?"    

Robb stared at his father, his eyes starting to get glassy. Blood bubbled in his mouth as if he were trying to say something. Ned reached him and extended his hand to touch Robb's cheek.

"Please, I love you, everything I've done I did because I wanted the best for the son I loved. Even after what you did today...I love you, son."

Ned looked for any sign of love, forgiveness but received no emotion. Instead he heard a gunshot and then he fell backwards. He was gut shot and he looked up to see Robb go limp, gone.

Ned heard the police and more coming and started to laugh.


As the Barracks windows filled with sunshine, it found two pets working diligently while three men yawned and stretched. It was a day off for all and they intended to take advantage of it. Instead of getting up at four they had gotten up at nine. Even the pets got to benefit. Instead of getting up for chores at three in the morning, they got to sleep until five.

Polivar said for them to set up the grill and picnic table outside. After they cleaned and decorated the yard as specified by each of them. Along with their regular routine being done of course. Piggy and Jeyne skipped their breakfast in order to have the extra time to work. In between their regular chores they raced outside to set things up. Jeyne frantically raked and swept the backyard while Piggy prepped for three separate breakfasts.

Dusten came down first into the fume filled kitchen. It was Clorox from a bucket sitting on the floor.

"Piggy, what the fuck? Huh? How can I fucking eat while you are poisoning me?" Piggy babbled apologies as he lifted the bucket and brought it out to the porch. Dusten just shook his head and tried to think how life doesn't suck. Jeyne brought his food silently then his coffee.

He leaned back and shivered as always, then nodded his thanks. He always did because if she went nuts and on a killing spree she might remember he was nice to her. The girl always nodded back and moved on. This time she moved right on out the back door and that was perfectly fine by him. Dusten moved his chair and plate a little and watched them while he ate.

It was amusing to watch them struggle with getting the wooden picnic table and benches out of the shed and onto the yard. Then the two sweaty, out of breath slaves ran back inside.

Jeyne dropped down to her hands and knees so hard that Dusten winced. Good thing she wears those fucking pads. Piggy ran to take the eggs off the burner and put on the home fries, turn the bacon. Jeyne crawled into the pantry and returned with a scrub brush. She headed to the porch where the cleaning bucket was and began to scrub the porch.

Polivar appeared in the kitchen. Yawning and wearing his Sponge Bob pajama bottoms and a Walking Dead t shirt, he slumped into a chair. Magically, Piggy finished and produced a piping hot perfect breakfast. Dusten stared harder and shook his head. "Get me more coffee, robot boy."

Snorting, Polivar spoke around a mouthful of home fries and egg. "You are just sore because you fucked up. Francis fucked up through you? At least yours didn't have to be by force? How could you let yourself be led by a fine aged pussy? "

Piggy silently made Dusten his coffee perfectly and carefully set it down near him. Dusten watched warily as Piggy went back outside. As if by silent signal, Jeyne came back and went out the door. They began to clean the porch then the stairs.

"No, I am telling you. They never even look at a clock or for a sound. They just always know? It's creepy, man! And don't forget what the girl did!" The slaves returned quickly and Piggy went back to his stove to cook a third round of food.

Jeyne started to set a third place then went to help Piggy by putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. "See what I mean?" Polivar shook his head. "You are fucking crazy, man. And Gregor is going to fucking kill you. Have you thought of which one of us you want to write your eulogy?" Polivar smiled as he slurped his coffee.

Gloomily, Dusten muttered, "Gregor almost killed me last night. He told me the only reason I don't have all my bones broken was because my father is here today."

Polivar stared and then started to laugh. "Oh my god, you are just SO fucked! Gregor, Tywin and your fucking father! They will slaughter you, oh gods, they will have to take numbers!" Jeyne appeared to take the coffee cup she had set out and pour coffee.

Raff appeared quietly in the kitchen, Jeyne was kneeling gracefully at the table, putting his coffee on the table for him. After Raff sat, Jeyne crawled over to the counter, stood, picked up the food that Piggy has smoothly put on the plate. She walked without any sound with the plate.

When she reached Raff, Jeyne knelt and put the plate carefully in front of Raff. She knelt with her head down, it was obvious it was some sort of plea or question. "You may continue helping Piggy with the yard and party." Raff said quietly with a pat to her head. The girl crawled quickly out the door and continued scrubbing the last porch step.

Dusten took a bite of his eggs and they were cold now. He ate them anyway but kept an eye wary. Raff gave Dusten such a disappointed look and slow shake of his head that he turned red and he ate his eggs faster.

Catelyn's body was stiff and white when a maid discovered her in the bright cheery sunlight of the day.

Chapter Text

Gregor's house was being worked on as well as the Lannister's estate. The sounds of saws and hammers were loud and maddening.


The Stark house was filled with chilling silence.  The little maid finished her scream over the corpse, ran from the room then recalled her job. Skidding to a halt, hands shaking she called Petyr. Always in an emergency, call him first. He gave her instructions to quietly go about her duties until his clean up crew arrived. She let them in and when they left she did too. In a body bag similar to Cat's.


Varys smiled at the pale but determined boy. "You don't have to tell me anything you see at all. I'm not going to pressure you. You know the rules, you give me whispers, I give you all of this. If you cannot bring yourself to talk of something you saw, come in and mull it over. I'll send for you in a few hours and see how you feel then? Fair?"

The boy does this every time, has for years. As a boy he would go through the door to the left and join a world of chaos and fun. Pirate ships to climb, ropes to swing with over a pool. Slides, swings sets that were elaborate if not safe.  There was a zip-line and there was a merry go round that went fast or slow upon request. There were accidents, but they were never discussed for fear of disappearing too.

When Tommen became a teen he was introduced a world of gaming madness. Huge screens, leather gaming chairs and his gaming selections gave most boys a moment of tears. Other rooms were around but Tommen was not adventurous enough to see them. Tommen would play games, relax, have a frosty from the machine, get something from the free snack bar.

If Varys waits, the boy will slink out and mutter to him in private what he witnessed or heard. Not this time apparently. For the first time, Tommen stood where he was.

Tommen nodded. "I have information for you. About Petyr's cleaning crew taking two body bags out of the Stark residence." Varys sucked in his breath and before he could ask, the boy answered. "I told no one, no one saw me, I came straight here. I texted no one and I made no phone calls during that time."

Waving at Tommen, Varys quickly said, "Thank you, Tommen. That was brilliant work and you told me right away. Good lad! You may go in your usual or head into another door. If you stay on the green florescent line in the hallway, you might find other things to enjoy." Varys grinned and winked.


Gregor received the expected call while he was getting a pedicure by Waif. "Yes, Sir. I will most certainly pass on that message to Lancel immediately." With glee, Gregor took a thick finger and stabbed his man's stupid head on the screen. The smile on his face was so vindictive, it was nearly a weapon of it's own.


Gregor's voice was so warm and merry, he could have been Santa telling little Lancel how the magic of love shall help him fix it all.

"Princess! Lancel's daddy is requesting his presence immediately.  Just go right in the front door and I'm sure daddy will be there. That is his tactic, right? You'd come rushing to fix whatever you fucked up but you never got the chance to. He would be right there, in your way, on the doorstep, to veer you and halt you in your tracks. Remember that we are ALL having a moment for Tickler at noon. If you are late I won't wait until your father goes after all. Have a wonderful time seeing daddy!"

Hanging up, Gregor sighed in contentment.


Brat was determined not to miss the moment for Tickler, nor the party. Fuck healing, fuck all of it, she doesn't need to be like them, she needs to be them. So she ripped off the bandage that was obscuring her vision. Let her freak fly, that statement really meant something to her now.

In the daylight it was easier to see all the damage. Now she saw her left eye, how the bottom lid looks like its tilting away. She saw how her nose will have a thick bump to it. How the scar will be thick and like a road track across her face.

One sob. That was all she was give herself.

She pulled herself together and then got herself dressed in jeans and a t shirt that Sansa had sent her as a joke. Brat constantly forgets to bring her clothing to the section of the laundry room that belongs to employees.

The shirt is light blue with white clouds. There is a unicorn with a cat riding it. A dolphin is chasing behind them. The dolphin has a half naked viking rider. This rider has laser eyes shooting beams at the unicorn and cat. More noticeably disturbing were the laser nipples shooting beams out of the viking's chest. That would explain the look of discomfort on the man's face.

Well, it is a casual day, thank gods. Brat took a quick selfie of herself with the scar and shirt and sent it to her sister.

A moment later she got her reply. "You always did like to be the odd, shocking one. Of course, your scar isn't any worse than any of theirs. So you had to up the ante with the shirt. Nice work."

Grinning, Brat went into the hallway and waited as Sandor stared at her shirt. He had one fist up to knock on her door, frozen at the horrors of her shirt. "What fresh hell is that?"

He shook his head, putting his arm down and leaning against the wall. "You can't really mean to wear that. Go fucking change. Hey, they are finally accepting you, don't make a joke out of it."

"I am out of clothes. And my sister made this for me. She used work with silk screen and make her own brand of tees. I love this shirt and I love being odd and a bit different. During our free time, I'm going to be me. During work I am no different. Don't worry, I have this."

Sandor sighed and started to walk down the hall. "I think you're a moron." Brat caught up to him and punched his arm. "They will notice the shirt way more than the scar."

Sandor understood that, damn it and he slumped his shoulders. "Yeah, I get it. Just...this party, they can party rough." Snorting, Brat said in a cold voice, "I know exactly how they party, remember? It will be nice to see HotPie again at least. I will leave when you do, alright?"

"Piggy is his new name and he belongs to Polivar, don't forget that. And yeah, we will leave before they start to get stupid, but long enough for them to remember us there in the morning." Sandor grabbed Brat's arm and yanked her towards the servant's cafeteria.

"Let's start with our breakfast. We don't need to be out there until noon. Do they still serve breakfast at ten? I have never slept in, unless I was feverish or badly wounded." Brat laughed at Sandor's excitement and bravely faced the other workers in the cafeteria with her shirt as her debut.


Kevan was standing in the doorway of the white marble lobby. He was nearly squinting as the sun turned the room into a merciless glaring hell. Nevertheless, his hands were behind his back and his feet were straight and still. He kept his squint upon the door, only shutting and blinking on occasion. A man of his stood nearby, leaned over slightly. "Would you like my sunglasses, Sir? I have an extra pair with me."

The silver haired, elegantly dressed man gave a slight shake of his head.

"No, thank you. You need to see if there is need to protect me and yourself. I can't imagine what caused someone to punish a room so badly. Maybe they deliberately meant to blind everyone who came into the home as a way to take advantage if need be. I bet my brother heard a story like that and got all wet and heavy breathing over it. So here we are, with me blind as a bat to see my beloved son."

He sighed and his man gave a sympathetic nod. "You would never neglect your fatherly duties to your son just because of some discomfort, Sir." The man assured him wholeheartedly.

Kevan gave the slightest of smile. "Exactly. Still, I will apologize that you made to suffer the indignity of this lobby. A disgrace. This whole place and everyone within in it. Still, they are family. We shall endure."

Dusten stood on Tywin's elegant porch, staring at the wood and stained glass door for ten minutes. He knew, he could feel that his father was right there, just standing, waiting. One of his fucking minion, crazy ass worshipers with him, just begging for a moment where they shoot someone in the head.

He took a deep breath and swung the door open. Kevan blinked rapidly, Dustin tilted his head. "Dad, you okay? Did you get something in your eyes?" Kevan gave it up and started to walk out to the porch.

"Tywin blinded me with his lobby, son. This is not the greeting I intended for you. Please, wait a moment until my eyes adjust." Clutching the wooden post, Kevan let his eyes adjust. He was irritated that his greeting was ruined but he was not one to bemoan a lost plan.

Standing straight again, causing the looming man to move back. Dusten was sitting on the railing, just watching passively. He was feeling a little braver now. Kevan cleared his throat and approached his son.

Lancel got down off the railing and stood ready to greet his father. It has been many years since they have hugged and Lancel would rather eat shit than hug his dad. Luckily, his father seemed to feel the same way.

"You have grown some. And you are even more handsome somehow. And that is how you got yourself into trouble again isn't it? The very thing that got you into trouble at home, you are doing here? Don't you see that you have a problem? I can help you, just let me take you home. I found a place that has people that can help with these things. They have great results, Lancel."

Kevan stepped forward as Dusten stepped back, shaking his head. "No, I am fine right here. I'll take my punishment and work harder, stay focused this time."

"While I am here to help my brother with his latest fiasco, you think about my helping you, Lancel. You let a woman commit murder. You were consorting with your own cousin! Did Cersei seduce you? Was that it? Don't keep making this worse, just come home and let your father help you fix it. You are at rock bottom, can't you see that?"

These were words that landed into Dusten like tiny missiles. "My name isn't Lancel, anymore. It is Dusten. And my place is here but thank you for your concern, father. I hope Uncle Tywin hasn't troubled you too much and your matter will be fixed up."

He tried to slide past the sunglasses man to leave. Kevan's eyes followed his son's slow absurd escape. "We shall have lunch tomorrow. I would like us to connect and chat since I am here."

Dusten sighed and looked up at sunglasses man number one. "Uh..if I say I'll meet him for lunch tomorrow, will you get out of my way? You three look like each other, do you know that? Hey, I was thinking, how about I call you guys, Things One, Two and Three so I don't get confused." The man was not amused and his voice was full of indignation and frustrated well restrained rage.

"You should be on your knees, begging, crying in gratitude that your father cares enough to help you. Take his offer before worse happens to you. How you can even joke about this I don't understand."

Staring up solemnly at the disciple of daddy and gave a tiny shrug. "And that is why we shall never be friends. Fine, I will have lunch with you tomorrow, dad. What time do you want me and where?" The man moved back and Kevan gave a tiny nod of approval.

"Two. I have yet to decide where. Simply meet me here at two." Kevan stood up as Dusten nodded then fled back towards the Barracks.

Sighing, Kevan shook his head sadly. "The poor fool doesn't even understand he has a sickness. And that niece of mine, she has always been a succubus, look what she has done. Seduced her own brother, if she is willing to go that far, a cousin is nothing at all to her. I will speak with Cersei. Though I have never struck a woman in my life..she tempts me to it. I hope the support and example I wish to give to my own men will be enough to keep me from it."

Chapter Text

The memorial for Tickler was quick. They all stood in a circle with Gregor in the center of it. He held a bottle of Tickler's favorite whiskey.

"He was one of us. He was loyal, never shirked his duties, always gave his all to his work. No one could torture like him, few of us could learn how to set human traps like he did. And Tickler died fighting to protect us, to do his duty."

Gregor took a swig of the whiskey then poured a bit on the ground. Almost in challenge, he handed it to Brat. She managed to swallow the harsh liquid and not cough, just barely. Sandor gave a smirk as she poured a little on the ground and handed him the bottle. When each person has taken a sip and the drink was poured, it was all over.

Brat has never been to a service so short in her life and was instantly cheered at this practice.

Gregor glared at each of them and then drawled out, "I don't want to see any of you for any reason until tomorrow morning. Enjoy your party and don't attract unwanted attention with your celebrations. If you attract unwanted attention, I will be forced to give each of you a great deal of unwanted attention."


Piggy had marinated chicken wings on the grill, along with hamburgers and hotdogs. Jeyne was frantically trying to get potato salad, macaroni salad and garden salad on the picnic table. Games still had to be found and they don't have long before they will come out of the house. Turning the meats and saying a quick prayer, Piggy raced to the shack with Jeyne.

They dove into the pile as if they were dumpster divers on bath salts. Jeyne came up with a cry of triumph, waving the box with a picture of a dart board. With a harrumph and a pout, Piggy renewed his search. Nervously, his friend began to tap his shoulder. "Yes, I know we don't have much time left. But I swear I saw that game with a post and rings in here when I got out the old mower."

Sniffing deeply, Jeyne gave a glare to Piggy. She put the box down to try and crawl to the grill before the food burned. Jeyne stood only when she reached the grill, but Piggy was already there, holding the damned game. "Hey, you should be finishing the coolers, don't you think? Then can you set up the game I found?" Piggy laughed as Jeyne gave him an obscene gesture along with a smirk.

Jeyne finished adding ice and beer to the coolers and made sure the table was ready with paper plates, napkins, utensils, condiments. Then she grabbed the box and went to find a good tree. Tilting her head, she studied something then put the box down. Going back into the shed, Jeyne  remembers some cork-board. It was a very big piece and nearly took up the whole back of the shed.  

Piggy came running to help her when she struggled with it. "We don't have much time left, what are you doing?" He hissed as Jeyne just calmly tried to carry her side and steer Piggy. Jeyne nailed the cork-board between two trees then hung the dartboard in the center of it. Taking one of the darts, Jeyne deliberately threw it wide. It landed in the cork instead of god knows where in the grass or a tree. Piggy grinned. "Ah ha...yeah saves us a lot of fetching. Nice thinking."

 They managed to set up the ring toss just before everyone would be coming into the yard. Piggy was melting cheese on some burgers while Jeyne added a second cooler of water bottles and soda. She expects it will be mostly full when this party ends. Brat and Sandor entered the yard and it was too much for Jeyne.

Her world was getting smaller by the day. It was here, it was a road to a farm then back. It was going in the car with Master. The same faces she saw every time, even those poor slaves that cringe before her Master and other cruel men. Their faces are beginning to blur now. 

Raff always is there when Jeyne sees new faces. Only that time she saw Sansa but that wasn't something good. Jeyne began to bite her lips, a thing her Master hates for her to do. She crawls fast to the grill where Piggy is. Not that he can protect her, but he was comfort, he was a voice. Just in case, her body starts to tense and try to get ready to attack if need be. To her dismay, the giant and the girl began to walk over.

Then Jeyne peered through her hair at the smiling, scarred girl. I know you, horse-face. No, that was long ago, that was before Raff. Sleepovers at the Starks and Arya the little brat would ruin it somehow. Ex Lax in the brownies one time. No, that was before Master. She stayed frozen kneeling next to Piggy.

Arya smiled at Piggy who grinned back. "Hey! Sorry I couldn't come and visit before this! I wasn't allowed to come to the Barracks until I proved myself to them. "It's alright. Judging by your face, you paid your dues in full, huh? What is your new name?" Piggy waited with a grin, he knew it would be bad. "Mine is Piggy." He prompted with a silly grin.

Squirming for a second, she mumbled, "Brat."

The pile of black hair next to Piggy suddenly giggled as Piggy laughed.

Smiling down, Brat said softly, "Jeyne, right? Well, I am not a horse face anymore, guess you'll have to find a new name for me." Jeyne couldn't answer that, couldn't apologize for being mean. Turning pale, Brat asked Piggy, "Did..did Raff cut out her tongue?" Piggy shuddered. "Gods, no! Though he did stitch her mouth shut for a day or two at first. Jeyne isn't allowed to talk without permission."

Piggy had a new audience to complain to and he was dedicated to his unwilling audience. Sandor stared flatly at him while Jeyne crawled to the cooler. Brat glared up at Sandor who sighed and walked over to grab two cold beers from the stunned girl. "I'll get them, thanks. We don't need services. Go scare Dusten or rest while you can."

Sandor grumbled as he sat at the picnic table. He was half listening to Piggy list his towering list of chores. Brat whined about being forced into marriage. Piggy told of extreme abuse and Brat nearly boasted about how she wounded and tried to murder her brother and husband. The boy showed scars and Brat pointed to her face. Piggy was fully enjoying his conversation and Jeyne had no idea what she should do now.

She isn't serving, Jeyne isn't supposed to be resting, she was to be serving. Jeyne slowly started to slink towards the back door, hoping Brat won't see her crawling. Oh, these bad thoughts, they will hurt me. Master will hurt me. Please no, stop thinking this way, if she sees you crawl who gives a fuck?  

Piggy saw her and pointed a spatula. "No! Don't go in there or they'll know others are here. I won't get a chance to talk to Brat again." "That is crazy. I can ask Polivar if I can chat with you." Brat commented lightly, stealing a piece of cheese from the prep table.  Jeyne shook her head at that and slowly crept forward to join the conversation.

Piggy was thrilled to see it but pretended she had been there the whole time. "Jeyne and I both agree on this. You cannot ask Polivar to hang out with your buddy, his slave. Not when you just earned their respect and at great cost to yourself. We have right now and you can come by the Barracks anytime. So we can find times to chat." Jeyne was nodding.

"I want to help you, both of you. I really do. I am your friend." Brat said but she noticed Piggy and Jeyne seem to share a look. "You are my friend. But I am a slave. And you are one of them. Our Masters are your comrades. It makes it a bit awkward." Piggy said as he began to give Jeyne plates of chicken wings to put on the picnic table.

Shrugging, Brat replied, "It doesn't have to be. And even if it is, we can deal with it. I kind of need it to keep...empathy. And you need to complain to someone other than Jeyne. No wonder the poor girl looks so crazy..she has to listen to you all the time." Piggy laughed and got a plate of hot dogs ready for Jeyne to take.

The girl was crawling back and had just gotten to her feet when Brat took the plate. "I'm sick of watching you crawl. How about you take a small break while I take this to the table?" Jeyne started to tremble hard and shake her head wildly, her hands seem to endlessly crawl across her skin. Brat never liked Jeyne as Sansa's friend or Robb's girlfriend. But she pities this broken thing.

Piggy tried to take the plate from her. "No! You can't do that. Do you want her to get in trouble? Would you like to see Raff punish her right here in front of you? And I will get in trouble too. Remember the fucking quarry party? Don't help us, please." Brat sighed but held the plate. As luck would have it the two clambering down the porch steps were Polivar and Raff.

With a charming smile and warm eyes, Raff's voice like silk, like a lovely thing you would wrap around you. With a terrible soft moan, Jeyne tried to wrench the plate from Brat. Fucking Two Face, Fucking Scar Face, I will find a name and give me the fucking plate, please, oh god I am standing, not moving, not working and I can see on his face it's there already.

Jeyne gave up as Raff started to walk over along with Polivar. She lowered her head and went to all fours, starting to sob in fear and defeat. I try so hard, so fucking hard to obey, it isn't fair, it isn't fair I am going to hurt and I didn't do anything, oh please Master, I really did try!

When Raff approached Brat watched in disgust as Jeyne began to kiss his boots. It was obvious she was imploring, begging. His snapped his fingers and Jeyne knelt up before him. Raff grabbed the small chin and leaned down, very close.

"Look at me. Good girl. I saw my Jeynie standing, doing nothing. Were you given orders to serve guests and help Piggy set everything up? Yes, you were. Is that what I saw you doing when I came out? No. I am disappointed, sweetheart. You are usually so well behaved. The best example short of Waif that any Master could show off. We can discuss what happened tonight later on."

Even as Raff had a hand on Jeyne's chin, somehow the girl seemed to get smaller as she shook and sobbed.

Brat shook her head. "No, Raff, it was my fault. I was being an asshole and I wouldn't let her put the plate on the table. Sorry,'s just it was kind of funny to watch her reaction. She was like a little nervous lap dog!" Brat channeled Sansa's acting skills. She had a smirk on her face and she gave a cruel, cutting laugh.

"Like a little demented fucking hair ball, she would keep gesturing like she was praying and making these tiny sounds. She kept trying to get the plate but she was scared, too much of a coward to actually pull it from me."

Brat stared at Raff who looked at her, over at Piggy, then finally back down at Jeyne. "Is this the truth, little girl? Hmm? Was the scary scarred monster being a bully to you?" He stroked her lips, her nose and Jeyne's cheekbones. "Permission to speak, Jeyne."

With large eyes full of fear and worship, perhaps even a form of twisted affection that terrifies her, Jeyne looked into her Master's eyes. How can someone so handsome, so charming be such a terrifying force?

"Master, I swear I tried! She wouldn't let me take the plate. I tried and tried but she wouldn't let me take the plate! I begged with my hands and she laughed! Piggy tried to help me, he tried to tell Brat to give me the plate! Please, forgive me Master! I couldn't get the plate but I swear I tried!"

Raff's features hardened slightly but this seemed to actually calm the girl down some.

"Hush now. Calm yourself. Good girl." He petted the girl's head, stroking her hair until the girl had stopped sobbing. Jeyne leaned into her Master's touch and tried very hard to compose herself. "There, much better. It looks like Brat might be challenging Polivar's status as worse bully. Poor little pet was the first to get it. Go get the plate and put it on the table. No punishment for good girls."

Brat deliberately gagged as the relieved and grateful girl began to kiss and lick Raff's hands while he smirked indulgently. "Enough Jeyne. I accept your gratitude. The plate, Jeyne. Go."

Polivar slammed between Piggy and Brat, with a shiteating grin. Piggy nearly fell into the grill and Brat managed to stay on her feet but was moved a foot back. "Hope your conversation isn't ruined by our party, guys. So watcha talking about? I bet what you are NOT talking about is getting a bunch of hungry people fed."

Polivar grabbed a fistful of Piggy's hair and yanked hard.

Piggy cried out and starting shaking, his hands curled on his chest. "Sorry, Master! I was wrong, please, I'll finish cooking right now." Polivar tilted his head and looked over at Brat with sharp amusement. "See, this is proper bullying, with her you get no response, it's boring really."

He continued speaking as if wasn't holding Piggy up to his tiptoes by the roots of his hair. "Funny thing. Most folks would start on Piggy first. Might have lost some weight, but he is still chubby, hair all wild and that whiny voice. Instead you go for the one that looks freaky?"

Brat pushed herself into Polivar, as if Piggy wasn't suffering, as if Jeyne and Piggy's pain tonight would be her fault if she failed. "Do I have to follow your methods on bullying? Gregor told me I was a sadist. I really am trying to embrace that part of me. Not like Tickler though, no...I like to fuck with minds, make someone snap. He said it will be great in combat situations. Want to see an example, asshole?"

Raff was standing watching the exchange as Jeyne put the plate on the table. Then threw herself against Raff's leg, clinging like a monkey. She buried her face against his leg and tried to stop panting. Sighing, Raff sat down and pulled the girl into his lap. He pulled her head against his chest.

"Noooo. Shh, my good girl isn't going to cry or panic. I won't punish you. No punishments for being bullied, silly girl. Why are you so clingy tonight?" He cooed into her hair and rubbed his hand on the slight back. She really was like a small kitten, all curled into a ball and he chuckled.

Dusten wandered out and was filled on what was happening by Sandor. The large man was intent on his chicken. He took a huge amount of it and he is focused on his meal. He spoke in between large bites and Dusten got himself a beer and a hotdog. "Hey, here is an idea! Let's find out how much of a bully that Brat is then. A contest after we all eat and hang for a bit. A contest between the two bullies of our group." 

Chapter Text

Dusten got one bite of the hot dog and then he heard a beep. He looked at his phone and groaned. "Shit! I forgot I have to have lunch with my father. Listen, don't start the bully contest without me! I'll be back in like a half hour. I gotta change fast."

Brat watched him run into the house and commented, "How does he think he will be home from lunch in a half an hour?"

Smirking, Polivar nodded. "Oh, he will be back in thirty minutes or so. Lancel and daddy have difficulties. They never make it through a full meal together. His dad thinks Dusten is a sex addict and he keeps trying to get him into these cures and camps and shit."

Polivar kicked out and connected hard into Piggy's thigh. "Where the fuck is my potato salad? I told you I wanted potato salad on my plate."

Rubbing his thigh, Piggy muttered, "You ate the portion I put on your plate." Leaning forward as if to stand up, one hand already on his belt, Polivar cocked his head. "What did you say, Piggy?"

The boy cringed low and timidly took the plate. "I said I'm sorry I forgot to put potato salad on your plate, Master. I will get you some right now." Polivar sat back down and Piggy hurried to fill half the plate with potato salad then put the plate in front of him.

Brat watched as Jeyne filled Raff's plate gracefully without hesitation.

Raff never said what he wanted, he just looked at it and somehow the girl knew. It was a bit creepy and Brat desperately wanted to put Jeyne's hair in a ponytail. Jeyne knelt next to her Master's side quietly, unless he wished for something.

Every now and then, he would offer a small piece of his meal to her. She would timidly eat from Raff's hand. Piggy continually ran about bringing things to the table, taking empty things away and getting beer for everyone.

Dusten came flying out wearing dress pants, a button down shirt, loafers and his hair was slicked back. "Oh gawds, here comes Lancel!" Hollered Polivar, making the tired Piggy jump and almost drop his spatula.

"Don't fucking call me that! Asshole! I hear that from my father enough, thanks." Dusten snarled as he ran off towards the Lannister house.

"Good luck to him." Raff raised his beer then took the last swallow. As he set it down, Jeyne grabbed it, threw it in the recycle bin and bring a new cold beer. She went back to kneeling as if she never moved.

After everyone was done eating, Raff tilted his head towards Jeyne. "Go eat with Piggy, then help him clean up. Good girl, go on." Jeyne went lower, then crawled away after Piggy.

They got the last pieces of meat no one wanted and a good amount of garden salad that wilted in the heat. A few charred wings, a hot dog that was extra crispy and a cold cheese burger. Jeyne took the cheeseburger and one of the wings. Piggy took the rest. They sat on the porch steps, hunched together as they ate. Whispering, Piggy deliberately didn't look at Jeyne, but at his food.

"They are going to get drunk. And it will get bad for us. They are going to see if Brat can out-bully Polivar. We are fucked. So fucked." Piggy started to gnaw on a chicken wing. He saw the small nod of agreement as Jeyne continued to eat her burger in small bites. Slowly, they ate and worried. 


Kevan was already sitting at the table on the patio, looking directly at his watch when Dusten skidded up. "You are ten minutes late, please sit down." A salad, a glass of water and a tuna sandwich awaited Dusten as he sat down. "Sorry about that. Thanks for inviting me to lunch." Dusten put his napkin in his lap and started to poke at his salad. His father cleared his throat and began to eat his own salad.

"So how have you been, son?" "Fine. How have you been, dad?"

The conversation remained civil for a good solid five minutes.

"You cannot see you are ill but you are. Don't you remember even as a child you were always touching yourself. And now look at how far down the hole you have gone!" Kevan threw his hands up as Dusten stood up and stiffly spoke.

"I am never going to leave this company for any reason. I do not have a sex addiction problem. You have some form of Munchhausen Syndrome or something. Get therapy, dad. I need to go. In case you didn't hear, we have the day off because one of my comrades died. So if you don't mind, I'd like to go be with my family to grieve."

Kevan watched as his son stormed away. Slowly, he said to his men, "I may have to extend my stay by a few days, gentlemen."


Gregor was grateful to the gods that he still had his large special ordered tub. He floated in the steamy water and foamy bubbles were nearly all he could see. He shut his eyes. The plastic pillow cradled his neck as Waif rubbed lotion into his scalp.

The window was open to let the fresh breeze come in. Gregor deliberately left his toes out of the hot water because he loved the cool zing it brought.

The next breeze was stronger and began to explain that he had big balls, she has big balls. Gregor's eyes popped open.

"Waif, get my cell phone. Now, text this to all of them. Turn it down or I'll stick my hand up your ass and have a puppet show."

Angling the cell phone so Gregor could watch her, Waif quickly texted in a group text. Sighing, he laid his head back down and shut his eyes. He felt small hands working quickly along his scalp and he poked his toes back out seeking the breeze.


Piggy and Jeyne had just finished throwing away another bag of trash and the yard was pristine when every person they knew went crazy. The slaves watched slack jawed as suddenly all of them started running in a stampede for the new speaker stolen from Tickler's possessions. 

Dusten came running in the gate entrance, yelling, "Turn off the fucking-Oh!" He bent down trying to catch his breath while the others destroyed the machine. Raff grabbed his cell phone and shut it off before the others could destroy it. They did lunge forward and he shrieked at them. "I shut it off! Not my fault! It was Tickler's fucking speaker and I could have sold that rather than sharing it all with you!"

He found himself in the dirt and he yanked the first leg he could get that was kicking him. Polivar went down laughing. "Oh gods...did you see what he fucking wrote? He would fucking do exactly that too! Oh my gods, would he like make a stage and curtains? Grab us two by two for a performance? Would Waif, Piggy and Jeyne be the audience?" Raff started laughing too hard to fight and rolled away. The others were chuckling too, but a bit nervously.

Quickly Piggy and Jeyne lowered their heads and pretended to sweep the yard again. This will bear much discussion and laughter later, but it has to be suppressed. This was already a dangerous time for them and here was Dusten. They will have their bully contest and no matter who wins, Jeyne and Piggy lose.

After the laughter and bravado started to come back, after a few more beers, they will remember. And the pets were right about that.

" wait a second. Something isn't fair. Ain't right." Polivar said, pointing at Jeyne. She was kneeling next to Raff's chair with her head on his thigh. Even when Polivar pointed at her, Jeyne didn't react. Dusten instantly screeched, "See? My point, fucking folks...MY POINT! No reaction! Does anyone check her pulse?"

They all instantly pounced. Raff invited Dusten to come over and take her pulse. Sandor confessed that he once saw her pass a mirror and have no reflection. Brat offered to do an exorcism and Polivar sneered.

"No, really, listen! Raff. Listen. Not to the fuck me. So. We all gave up our names, right? And I made Piggy give up his name. I bet Waif isn't her real name either." Dusten yelled, "Gregor girl is Legion! That one..that one needs an exorcism!"

Another round of laughter and jeering before Polivar could be heard again. "No! Really, listen! Everyone, no matter how high or low here lose their names. So why didn't you? Huh? Cause I think it's a spell....see I think she is a witch just like Dusten dreams about at night. The bad dreams with the pee pee sheets in the morning."

  Polivar burst into drunken laughter and held his head. Raff shrugged, looking down at the black hair. "You know, I just sort of liked the name. Yeah, guess I should change it."

"Maybe that is what made her kill Damon! She still has a past link cause of her name." Brat offered with a vicious smirk towards Raff. He glared back then smoothly responded while petting Jeyne's head. "She told me why she killed him. He was forcing her to break her rules."

Dusten shuddered and Brat swallowed down some beer and defeat.

Polivar gave a cruel grin and said, "Hey, do you guys remember when we made Dusten watch the Ring with us? Brat, you would have loved it. So we put the movie into the's what we had before DVD's, history shit.." He waved his hand to dismiss it and then found his train of thought.

"So we put in the movie and the girl in it..oh you've seen it? Good, then you know the black hair all in the face, girl crawling, contorting, coming to kill you.." Dusten threw an empty beer bottle at him and missed.

Laughter abounds as Raff tries to finish his story.

"So...we DARED him to watch it and so he had to. Dusten's face...I never saw such terror and we had to give him a pillow because he kept clinging to us. When the girl climbed out of the well and started to come out of the screen, oh my god! Dusten screamed like a little girl and pissed his pants. He ran out of the room, we honestly couldn't stop him, he was crazed with fear! We kept forcing him to see clips of that and that chick from the Grudge too!"

Brat laughed as hard as they did. Raff grinned and said, "Maybe we should call her Samara?" Dusten snarled out, "Call her Wail. It's the only sound we ever hear from her." Polivar cocked his head and stroked his chin as if pondering mysteries. "Ghost? Fangs? KillBill? Reagan? Carrie? Damien? What would you prefer, sweet Lancel?" He fluttered his eyes at the angry embarrassed man.

Raff looked down at Jeyne and stroked her hair. "We shall go with Samara. Look up. You are not Jeyne anymore. You are Samara. Do not forget. It is a rule. Speak and tell me who you are." Staring into Raff's eyes, Jeyne softly responded as her mind tried to process this new big information. "My name is Samara, Master." Raff pet her head. "Good girl."

With a growl, Dusten leaned forward. "You are being an asshole. Don't really fucking name her that. Why are you being a fucking dick?"

Sandor drawled out, "Wasn't there a bully contest or some shit?"

He gave Brat a look that clearly said, you brought this on yourself. She hated those looks the most. It was that fucking look that made her go along with it in the first place.

Polivar grinned. "Yep. That's right. And I have the best fucking idea..." He stood up and called out, "Piggy! Stop hiding and get your ass over here!" He heard a small crash and then a heavy stomping coming closer. It brought a joy to his face that made Brat shudder inwardly. This was shit she had always defended.

"Where you hiding in the fucking trash, you moron, huh?" Polivar slapped Piggy in the shoulder, head and face while shaking him. "What did you fucking say?" Piggy cried out, "I wasn't hiding, I was throwing out more-"

Polivar made a fist and hit Piggy in the stomach, pulling it at the last second. "Now, I couldn't really hear you. I want you to say it again, loud and clear this time." Coughing and wheezing, Piggy replied, "I am sorry for hiding in the trash, Master. I was being a moron."

Tears slid down Piggy's cheeks and he lowered his eyes as he stood still. "I accept your apology." Polivar stood over Piggy, loomed over him and Piggy shrank, a tiny whine escaping his lips. "Go to the dartboard and remove it. Right the fuck now." Piggy eased his way timidly away from Polivar and then ran for the dartboard. Rolling her eyes, Brat said, "Sure if we beat on them, they will cry and obey. Both of us can do that.."

With a cruel look in his eyes, Polivar shook his head. "Oh no,, this isn't the game yet at all. This is just me playing an everyday game with Piggy. What I am about to do, that will be the contest between us. And this is something that we both always tie at, so I'm curious to see if that remains the same tonight."

He turned to look at Piggy who was holding the dartboard but staying hidden near another shadow. "Put the dartboard down and stand against the cork board. Legs and arms out."

Piggy's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. "Master..don't throw darts at me, please!" Polivar started to walk towards him and Piggy ran to stand spread against the cork board.

Polivar stood there and punched his fists into the cork-board on either side of Piggy's head. The boy flinched and sobbed, eyes finally looking up with utter surrender.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, please!" Piggy babbled, waiting for the pain. Polivar stuck his face in Piggy's. "You will stand here until I say you can move. If you so much as twitch, I will deliberately hit you." Polivar waited for the tearful, "Yes Master" and then he grabbed the darts. He turned to grin at Brat. "We are both really good at darts, mainly when drunk. So....a real bully wouldn't give a fuck that it's an actual person." 

Sandor groaned and shoved his stupid charge forward. Maybe she only really does learn if the lesson comes hard. Brat narrowed her eyes at Polivar and put out her hands for a dart. He smiled.

"Ladies, first. Just remember one rule. Do. Not. Hit. My. Piggy." Polivar handed her a dart and moved aside. Brat tried to relax, hell, when they played with bows and arrows a few years back, she shot at him all the time. With confidence, she tossed the dart.

Piggy cried out but he did not move as the dart landed near his left shoulder. Raff and Sandor clapped while Polivar frowned. He took the dart and then studied his target. Piggy shut his eyes tightly and tried to pretend he didn't exist. A thunk came close to his right side and he sobbed in relief. Brat took another turn and a dart landed close to his head.

Piggy couldn't help himself, he knows better but he can't help it. "Master! Please! I can't, I can't, please anything else? Please?" Polivar grabbed a dart and threw it lightly. It landed in Piggy's hand and he screamed. "Sorry! Please, I'm sorry, take it out, please, Master!"

Brat grinned and yelled, "Hey, he hit him! I win by default."

Polivar growled as he pulled the dart from Piggy's hand then slapped the boy's wet face. "I warned you what would happen, didn't I? Little fucker, you need to LISTEN! Now stay the FUCK still or so help me, the next one will need Qyburn's attention." Piggy moaned and nodded, leaning against the cork-board, his hand throbbing.

Polivar stomped over to lean over the scarred girl. "Not fair. I was disciplining him. I meant to hit him. I told him I would if he begged or tried to move. One last shot each."  Brat looked up at him without fear and grinned so her scar twists gruesomely. Still red and wet healing flesh with cruel slashes of black through it. "Fine. One shot each." 

He took his shot first, carefully staring at the shaking, terrified boy. The dart landed right next to Piggy's left ear and the boy lost control of his bladder. "Piggy, dammit! Now see, a real bully can make a victim piss themselves with fear." He joked as he handed the last dart to Brat. Her face was narrowed with intense concentration. Brat very carefully judged and the let loose her dart.

The men all screamed as one, high pitched and in true cringing horror.

Polivar had clutched his shaved head and dropped to his knees, his eyes scanning to be sure. Dusten had grabbed onto Sandor who was grabbing him back, muttering, "Oh fuck, fuck, that was uncalled for, fuck me that wasn't funny." Raff was clutching Samara like she was a teddy bear.

Piggy's eyes were hollow, his skin was fish belly white and his mouth open in a frozen scream. A dart nestled up against his testicles until his eyes rolled back and he fell face forward.

Brat smirked at them all and cheerfully announced, "A real bully can make her victim faint with fear. I win."


Gregor was half dozing as Waif made sure he was comfortable in the seaweed wrap then she got the bowl of ingredients to put a face mask on him. The breeze carried a high pitched group of screaming men to him. His eyes popped open.

Chapter Text

Sansa wore a pretty pink dress that had been banned to her closet by Joff. Her hair was pulled into a thick braid and her smile was guarded but sincere. Tyrion had taken her for breakfast then offered to show her the Lannister mansion.

"Well, I mean you have been it of course, but it is all redone. My wing was burnt so while repairs are happening, I am using a currently empty wing. So anything I had that survived went there. I have to go today and purchase some new items. I was hoping maybe you would come with me? Because once we marry, that is where we will live. So, uh, I guess you would like some say in the decorating?"

Tyrion looked so hopeful and had such sad dog eyes that Sansa laughed.

"That's fine. We can look at the wing, get measurements and then shop. But doesn't your father just call Varys or Petyr for those things?" Sansa asked as Tyrion grimaced. "My father does. My sister does as well. I do not, I like to get out and find my things myself. Of course if you would like to ask Varys or Petyr, you can. But I will argue with whomever it is vehemently, I promise you."

Tyrion grinned when Sansa laughed a second time. "No, I like to shop too. I'm afraid as much as Joff tried to beat the lady out of me, I still urged and longed to shop."

Tyrion waited until Bronn let him and Sansa out of the car. "I hope you don't mind Podrick and Bronn, they are sort of used to the bachelor life, as am I." "I like them, I am more afraid of living here with your father to be honest." Sansa confessed as they headed into the mansion, briefly blinded by the lobby.

Both of them managed to find their way through the room to a corridor that was soothingly dark after the marble nightmare prism. They stopped to let their eyes adjust.

"You know, I am very clever. And I believe that you are very clever too. I believe that Joff hurt you badly and that you truly feared to disobey him. But I don't think you were any less clever while you feared Joff. So I would like us to drop the tiresome dance. Let us be honest with our cleverness. Then the dance becomes fun." Tyrion looked up into Sansa's startled eyes as Podrick and Bronn came closer.   


Gregor quickly donned his terry cloth sweatsuit and quickly tried to decide which item to bring. "Master? May I please make a suggestion?" He turned and saw Waif kneeling and holding a wooden staff up. Grinning, he took it and gave her a quick pat to her cheek. "This is perfect." Eyes wide open, a vein in his forehead pulsing in rage, Gregor headed for the Barracks to deliver some beatings. And yet for all his anger and his bulk he moved so silently.


Polivar was glaring at Brat. "That was plain cruel. That was beyond...goddamned bitch, if that had struck him!" He grabbed Piggy who was awake and sobbing loudly. "Alright, game is over, boy. Look, you are fine, not even scratched." Piggy was ashamed and tried to yank his shorts back up as soon as Polivar had made sure he was not damaged.

Polivar tousled his boy's hair then shoved a beer in his hand then shoved the boy into a chair. "Here, you did well, you earned this after what she did to you! Never thought she would go for your nuts, Piggy."  

The second Jeyne had been shoved off Raff's lap as he went forward with the others for the bet, she crawled under the table. From the relative safety of it, she watched her poor friend get tormented. It was frustrating to have no way to help him and that was dangerous thinking. She cringed lower and whimpered.

Dusten looked over and Jeyne saw that everyone else was watching Brat do her last shot. He stared at her and Jeyne stared back. Then the shot was made and Dusten had looked away. She was chilled by it but then she was worrying about Piggy.

Brat couldn't understand why they were all glaring at her. "What? I won and I never touched him! I knew I wouldn't hurt him."

Sandor shoved her and got himself another beer. "You don't go for a man's junk unless it is during training or during a job. Even if it is just a slave, it still isn't right!"

Giving them all a look of disgust, Brat stormed towards the cooler to get her own drink. "You are all fucking assholes. I won and you can't handle that, can you?"

Raff shook his head and tried to explain but he was cut off by Dusten. "Did you see what she fucking did? Did you see? She looked right at me, I swear it!" Raff stared at Dusten and yelled, "What the fuck are you talking about?" Dusten screamed back, "THAT THING, THAT SAMARA GIRL, SHE STARED RIGHT AT ME AS SOON AS YOU COULDN'T SEE!"

Raff stared at Dusten for a moment then just punched him. "Shut the fuck up with that shit, Lancel. I'm sick of it right now." Dusten slammed into Raff, screaming, "Don't call me that!  Ah, fuck, my hand!" The two went down and rolled. Jeyne was glad that she was under the table.

Sandor yawned and stood up. "You are all fucking morons. You two need to stop fighting, you all need to stop yelling before Gregor shows up. I am going to bed before that happens."

Snorting, Polivar leaned back in his chair next to Piggy's. He was deliberately crowding him. Polivar wanted to give his boy a small reward for behaving. But he doesn't want Piggy to grow comfortable with sitting in chairs. Putting a hand on Piggy's shoulder to discomfort him, Polivar tossed out a last instantly regrettable statement.

"Gregor isn't going to come down if he hasn't already. If this had been before Waif, he wouldn't have texted, he would have just come to fuck us up. That little thing and his spa treatments are keeping our Gregor sweet and loving towards his children!"   

The gate door exploded and a staff came down to separate and beat Raff and Dusten. As soon as those two were bleeding and crying, Gregor looked up at the frozen group.

With a fierce smile Gregor spoke in a dementedly cheerful tone as he used the staff to gesture.

"Oh my wayward little chicks! Did you think a spa treatment and a perfect little slave would keep me from giving you my FULL attention if you needed it? First the music and now the screams? Think of me as your Oprah, because you won a beating!" He pointed at Brat. "You have won a beating" He pointed the staff at Sandor. Then he flourished the staff to include them all. "EVERYONE WINS A BEATING!"

Gregor pointed the staff at Piggy in the chair and then pointed it at Samara. "Get." He swept the staff towards the house and the slaves couldn't have ever moved faster.


Once inside Samara and Piggy flew to the living room and then behind the staircase, a favorite hiding place. They held each other and both burst into laughter at the same time.

Tears came, but the laughter wouldn't stop, the terrifying mirth was too much. After a moment of this, they actually began to hear the beating. Looking up they saw a hall window open and they could hear everything. They crawled low to sit underneath it and stare up at the night sky.

Piggy grinned as he heard Polivar swear and scream. Samara covered her mouth to hide a giggle when they heard Raff cry out in pain. They tried to count how many times their Masters were hit compared to the others. Next they heard Brat screech and then Sandor hiss in pain. Now it was Dusten and it was all repeated.

Wincing at a few particular hard whacks, the cringing two sat up a bit more eager with malicious grins on their faces, watching the moonlight in the window. When Gregor had both Polivar and Raff sobbing, begging for Sir to forgive them, to please stop, both pets felt a moment of vindication so strong, it terrified them.  

Then the most amazing thing in the world happened. Both Samara and Piggy slowly dropped their jaws slack, eyes huge.

"What did I say I would do in that text I sent you today? When I tried to be UNDERSTANDING AND KIND to you all? Huh? Tell me Raff, what did I say would happen?" It took a moment for Samara to recognize this as her Master's voice. A stammering, unsure, hurting voice. "You..You said you would shove your fists..up our asses and have a puppet show, Sir."

"That's right. And did you listen? Did you heed my wise advice to be quiet? No." They heard Polivar mutter something and then him cry out. Gregor's words got louder and angrier. So did Polivar's cries in between sentences that Gregor roared.

"I don't give a fuck who was screaming or why. I don't know where the small kindergarten class I heard screaming went. Frankly, I don't give shit if you skinned forty kittens while holding them against Tickler's speakers! I warned all of you and like children you didn't pay attention. SEE, THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS! So since my day has been ruined worrying if Tywin can also hear you...I am going to ruin your day and night. Gregor wants a puppet show and guess what our theme is? Why we should always listen to Gregor's wise advice. And I shall take my time at this show, children. You are all a bit slow and I want to make sure this lesson really sinks into your fucking heads."

Samara and Piggy could barely breathe as they heard sounds from Polivar and Raff that they will hide in their memories. To hear the yelped words repeated back in a pleading tone to "Never forget or ignore Sir's wise advice", it was a treasure, priceless, a gift from the real gods. It was only to be pulled out when things were so bad it seemed a good idea to run, to kill, to die....then they could remember these sweet sounds. When Gregor made Polivar and Raff use their sobbing, strained voices to repeat his rule, Piggy and Samara both sat against each other, sobbing and laughing until it hurt.

Piggy heard Brat scream louder than the others and he winced a tiny bit. Samara's fingers flew along scars upon their legs.

"Yeah, it was fucking awful what she did to me. But she tried to save you earlier and I take anything that Polivar throws at me. I think she understood that it was much worse for you to be punished. And then...Brat had to prove she was a worse bully. She certainly made her fucking point. I forgive her for it. You should too. Think of what Raff would have done after the party if he thought you just were being lazy? Last time he thought you were lazy he removed all your toenails. Brat saved you from worse than that because you know it is always worse if Raff has to repeat anything."

Samara nodded and shivered, pulling her feet under her protectively. The drag of wood across the raw beds of flesh don't bother her as much anymore. It is just another pain that gets in line with the others waiting to be noticed. A chill gripped her and she crossed her arms as Dusten began to make stifled cries that became howled words. Piggy put an arm around her and they listened to the lovely sounds of the night.


Cersei staggered down the hallway, past her son and the silent guards that came with her uncle. She headed for the bar to get another bottle of wine. Kevan had been sitting on the couch with Tommen having a very chummy conversation, at least on his side. Her uncle looked up, his voice and face sharp with disapproval.

"You don't need anymore of that, young lady. Why not tend to your son whom you haven't seen at all today?" Grabbing a bottle of wine, Cersei turned and walked slowly like a queen that imbibed too much at a castle banquet. 

"Tommen, Mommy is having a day off. Mommy actually loved your brother and I have chosen this one day to have for my grief. So your Mommy is taking a sick day. Today Mommy is broken, tomorrow I will be all better and will smile at breakfast for you. But until then Mommy needs everyone to just fuck off."

It was unclear if Tommen and Kevan were shocked by the words or the appearance of Cersei.

Her blonde hair was not brushed, unwashed and it looked like a lions mane around her head. Cersei had not a bit of make up on her face and the soft living room lights were not kind. Dark bruises under her eyes, bags that made her eyes look so very tired. Her skin seemed pulled so tightly and her cheekbones looked hollow.

Kevan sucked in his breath and his words were soft, amazed. "My word. You are truly grieving that boy, aren't you?" Cersei just stared dully at him and he nodded. "I understand a mother needs to grieve for her lost son, regardless of what he was. He was first a son. Go on, have your grieving any way you'd like. But we shall have words tomorrow about Dusten, about our family and your role in it."

Cersei laughed as she gave him the middle finger and went back upstairs. "Fuck you, fuck our family name. Right now I don't care if it all burns to the ground." Tommen and Kevan remained silent until they heard the slam of Cersei's door.

"I am very sorry you had to see your mother that way, Tommen. She loves you dearly, but your mommy has to grieve her own way. Some get angry, some get sad. It is fine that you are not sad that Joff is dead. I understand what he has done to you and your sister. He was a monster and best put to the back of our minds. So, your grandfather said that you were very jumpy ever since your sister's death."

Tommen wished his mother would come back as Uncle Kevan moved closer until he was nearly on him.

"Please back up, I feel like I am about to get molested by Dr. Phil!" Tommen yelled, finally having enough and he stood up, ready to fight or flee. The men with the mirror glasses all clapped and his uncle beamed at him approvingly. "What the fuck?" Hollered Tommen, throwing his arms up in frustration.

Kevan sat back and finished his tea. "I wanted to make sure you weren't a broken thing. I am glad to see you aren't. You are just scared, spooked. But the things you are spooked by are dead. We heard that Cat is dead, Ned is dead and all their sons. Only the girls are left and they are with us. No one left to be scared by."

Kevan watched Tommen's face try and register everything he said. "Wait...all the boys? Even Rickon? And I shouldn't be fucking terrified? If our enemies hate us so much they are willing to kill kids my age, my sister's age?"

Tommen shivered and the personality that had been emerging slowly before Cersei came down was gone.

Here was the twitchy boy again. What has that woman done to this poor child? Kevan saw what he had to do. Even if he doesn't leave with Lancel, Kevan will be leaving with someone.


Chapter Text

The next few days would be a whirlwind of black clothing, caskets and believable, false grief.


Cersei had sat holding Sansa's hand as she delicately explained that her entire family except Arya was dead. Sansa cried and Cersei comforted her. Both felt they deserved an award for their performance. Tyrion came over an hour later and offered his condolences as did his Uncle Kevan. Sansa was charmed by Tyrion's wit but Kevan was amusing in his over dramatic and intense need to share his assistance.


Gregor called Brat to his office. He gruffly explained that her family was gone but Sansa. He also informed Brat that she was a widow. "You shall take time off for the services. Since we are all one big family, you have lost nothing really. However, we shall all come to your family and your husband's funeral." 


Polivar was stunned when Brat came in for the first time into the Barracks. He grinned and watched as the girl plopped into a chair. Then he hollered at Piggy to offer a drink. Flushed, Piggy came running in from doing Polivar's laundry. "What can I get you to drink, Brat? I have fresh coffee, if you want some."

Shaking her head and giving a sudden sunny smile Brat said, "A beer please. Polivar, I want to get fucked up tonight. Like real party fucked up. My husband is dead. My family is dead. I feel free and guilty for it. I have some money...give me something that will make me fly. Oh one thing, if you roofie me, or give me something that will make me fuck you....I'll go after your balls instead of Piggy's."

Polivar grumbled that Brat was a cunt but he rummaged through his box more carefully this time. "Well, who are you partying with? Sandor? Or do you want to stay here? You can't go around the grounds all fucked up. If Gregor caught you..." He didn't need to finish that statement.

Both of them shuddered. Last night was awful, degrading and painful. The worst part was afterwards Gregor made them all form a line at Qyburn's. "I don't want anyone missing work because of a fucking bleed out. So you all can get looked at for stitches."

"If I stay here, promise you will not try to mess with me sexually..and you won't let the others either. Promise me, your balls are on the line." Brat stared intently at Polivar until he grudgingly agreed. "After last night...not really in the fucking mood. Doubt the others are either. Here, this will make everything feel warm and fuzzy."  He handed over some pills to her and took a few himself.

Piggy waited until the narcotics kicked in and they were happy. Then he gently maneuvered them to sit on the living room couch and watch a horror movie. Piggy put Green Inferno on for them, gave snacks and beer. Sighing in relief, he crept away to get a cup of coffee. He managed four sips of it before Polivar hollered for him.

After running for beer and more chips it seemed easier to just sit on the rug and wait for the commands. He asked permission to bring his coffee in and Polivar was in such a good mood he nodded. Then proceeded to knock the coffee over with his boot. Giggling, Polivar told Piggy to clean the mess he made or else he'd get a beating. Sighing, Piggy started to scrub the spot and he apologized for spilling his coffee on the rug.


Samara was in a dress, her hair and make up done and was standing near Raff who was at Gregor's house. They were outside of it and Raff was fighting with one of his slavers. She only knows them by their voices and shoes, obeying the rule to never look at the men. "The man is too injured to work, he says. He is begging for medical assistance. Should I bring him to our doctor?" Raff snorted and said, "Bring him to me, over in my yard. Out of view, dammit."

Raff snapped his fingers as he moved and Samara rushed to follow him into the Barracks yard. Once in the relative privacy, Raff simply said, "Down." Samara knelt in the soft grass, feeling it cushion and itch her bare knees at the same time. A thin, pale sweating man was dragged forth by the worker and thrown before Raff.

Samara was allowed to look at other slaves and she gave this one a look of sympathy. Her hair was done smooth and flat to either side of her head tonight. The man could easily see her face and expression and it gave him the slightest comfort and hope.

"Now, let me see this injury of yours." Raff's voice was a soft, sympathetic sound and Samara shivered, cringing lower. Even though she knew the voice and the danger wasn't for her, it was still terrifying.  The man didn't know this of course, he has only seen Raff a few times from a distance.

He was aware that this man was the big boss of it all, the manager of the slaves. This was the man who might listen and help him. Imploringly, the man held up his mangled fingers. Two of them were not just crushed but bloody and there were hints of bone everywhere.

"Please, Sir...please. I want to obey and work for you, I am grateful for this fresh air and food and...please, it hurts so badly and I can't work this way. Please, may I see a doctor?" The man was groveling and Raff gave him a merciful smile as he gently took the injured hand into his own. "I'm going to help you. Hush now. It will be very fast."

He nodded up at his man who threw the man to the ground and knelt on him. Samara watched the worker's hand on the thin wrist of the now screaming, begging slave. The worker extended the arm out and then Raff knelt down holding a blade. "Now, I'm not a doctor but I am really good at quick patches."

Quickly, the blade flashed and Samara's eyes tracked it as it removed the crushed fingers. Raff ignored the screams and pressed a towel hard against the wounds. "Samara, go turn on the grill." She jumped then crawled fast over to the grill. Kneeling up, she couldn't reach the knob but she was too afraid to stand. Not with Raff holding a knife, not with her Master using that voice and face.

A sigh from behind then the cooing tone that makes her cry. "Sweetie, you can't reach the knob, can you? So little, so tiny and fragile, aren't you, dear? You may stand to turn the knob."

With a whimper, Samara stood and turned the knob. She crawled back but went very low, to her stomach as she approached Raff. "You want to apologize, I know. But I am very busy right now, Samara. It is alright, you didn't want to interrupt me and you were scared to stand. Next time, just come here and wait for me to acknowledge you. Good girl, stay and hush."

Raff pointed to a spot near him and Samara immediately crawled there to grovel low. Raff leaned down to the groaning man. "Now, notice even though she made a little error, she was unharmed. She was forgiven."

Grabbing the man by his hair, Raff yanked him up to force him to see the monster in the handsome, merciful face. The voice was velvet that just covered a blade. "My girl knows better than to complain to me of an injury. She wouldn't dare, she knows her place. But you came to me and look, problem is solved! Well, except for the bleeding, but we are going to take care of that in just a moment. Karl, gag him for this part."

The man finally caught on and began to struggle. "Hush, if you struggle, I'll take more fingers. Then you can't work at all. That means I must find other uses for you. A finger-less man won't have the best of homes..." Raff kept his voice sweet but the blade was sharp and sinking slowly into the slave's left pinky. "Please! I'm sorry, I won't struggle. I'll behave, I will, please don't take more fingers, Sir, please!"

Smirking, Raff removed his blade while the man sobbed. "Now, let's finish this and you can be on your way. I'm going to allow you tomorrow to stay in the sick room and rest. Then you will be back to work and I expect no further issues with you."

The man cried and groaned but he didn't fight Raff and Karl as they took him to the grill. He screamed when they cauterized his bloody finger stumps. Expertly and coldly, Raff quickly cleaned the burns, slathered ointment on them then bandaged the hand.

"Karl, he is to recieve antibiotics twice a day. If he is behaving, he may have two Vicodin every four hours. When he returns to work, if he needs it and is behaving, give him more if it makes him capable to work." Raff pulled out a little bottle that Samara knows well. It is for that so bad pain and for helping her aches to stop long enough to function.

Her knees make horrid sounds if she stands more than a few minutes at a time and they hurt. Samara's back is always a special kind of hell of it's own whether standing or crawling. She envy's this poor slave's dose even though she had received her own earlier.

The poor poor man certainly needed and deserved those drops. Samara felt bad for him of course she did. But her Master was using his voices on him. Now was cradling his jaw so tenderly, offering the drops on the man's eager tongue. What the hell is wrong with me? I am fucking petrified but I am jealous? How can I be jealous of that? Oh gods, I really am going crazy. Dusten is right, something is very wrong with me.

At no time was Raff unaware of his girl or this pathetic slave. He was amused at Samara's look of sympathy at the man, it only made it sweeter to crush the man's hope. Raff was delighted to see the jealousy and hurt in her eyes. It was something he has been waiting for. He noticed her empathizing with him and offering affection bit by bit. Here was Samara now actually wanting her Master's attention, next she will actively seek it out.

Immensely cheered by this, Raff pulled the man closer and cradled him. "There. Just let the medicine work. You will never act so rude and daring again. Will you?"

The stoned man whimpered and shook his head. "You are very sorry, aren't you?" A nod and tears fell. "Good. I forgive you. You are grateful for the medication and time off I am giving you. Aren't you?" Another nod and a very submissive, defeated, "Yes Sir. I am sorry and I am grateful."

Raff smiled as Samara was unable to hide her expressions under her hair. She was so unused to these sudden thoughts she couldn't keep her usual mask. Raff really struggled not to laugh as Karl took the man away and Samara's eyes tracked them.

It took willpower not to laugh at her but Raff didn't. Instead he smiled at the wretched pathetic idiot and said, "Good. Now go with Karl and he can let you rest in the van until it's time to leave." He stood up and pulled the slave up with him then let him lean against Karl.

Chapter Text

"Look at this shit. Just fucking stop and look, would you! For like...two LOOK!"

Finally, Yellow Dick leaned over Luton like a curious praying mantis. He winced as he saw the brief clip of the bodies on the cell phone. "Ned ain't dead yet, Luton, okay? We can always appeal to him for...." The voice over informed them that Ned Stark died on his way to the hospital.

Luton grabbed his head. "Alright, who else knew we were fighting for the North? Anyone that will vouch for seeing us during the time the kids died? I mean those weren't fucking adults, Dick! Those were kids, a bunch of them. We are fucked. So fucked. If anyone knows or saw...we need to get as far from here as we can."

Dick and Luton had been late for Ben's pickup. When they stopped at the store they were again holding things up. Dick had to use the bathroom and apparently take quite the hefty shit. Luton kept trying to use old coupons to pay for things while flirting with the clearly not interested cashier.

This had caused Robb and Ramsay great distress. Robb kept growling at him and Ramsay kept threatening him. Luton wanted to yell back that he wasn't fucking Reek. But he held his tongue and finished his purchase.

He was leaning against the ice cooler near the toilets waiting for Dick to finish. Then suddenly there was an explosion and Luton watched Ramsay, Reek and Robb fly off. "Well how the fuck do you like that?" He screeched and pounded on the bathroom door. "Shit your pants if you have to but get the fuck out here. We need to run right now..hurry!"

They flew straight into the woods and hiked their way towards the east. Thank the Gods that the boys were both forced into years of "Scouts". Every spring, summer and fall they could be seen prowling the woods or climbing rocks, or a dozen camper tents invading a clearing.

However, they learned everything from how to build knots to how survive in the woods if you had to. Their counselor was a bit frantic, a bit of a survivalist, but he was the only one that made camping fun.

So Luton and Dick finally stopped running, scattering tracks, climbing and leaping trees to throw off dogs. They had no further energy, they were so tired.

They crawled to one of their favorite hiding places as children. With Ramsay and the gloomy Jon. It was private and their was acceptance regardless of social status. They played cards. Sometimes they read magazines or took a nap or cried or stared into the distance. As they got older the others stopped coming.

They smashed into it and grinned nervously. It was much bigger in memory. "Just long enough for me to check the media and you not to die. Breath, asshole! Breathe can do it, there ya go." Luton wanted to hit Dick really hard but instead he checked his phone with one hand while patting Dick's heaving shoulder.

"Okay explosion, ah fuck, Rickon Stark is dead, of course. They are investigating the shit out of that and hey, a shoot out. Oh fuck, Cat Stark died suddenly also. Everyone we know is fucking dead!  Damn it, keep running, we can't stay here."

So they kept running, going further, deeper into the woods where it begins to get dark as you go no matter how bright the day. Both went into it eagerly while Luton kept trying to scan his phone. That is when Luton stopped to confirm it.

Ramsay is dead, it was all for nothing. Everyone fucking died. Now he is stuck with this praying mantis, dumb as shit killer trying to run for their lives.

Luton peered up at Dick. "How do you feel about seafood? And the ocean? Boats?" With a grimace, Dick replied, "I hate all of that."

Smiling, Luton clapped his hand on his knee. "Perfect! I hate that shit too! Let's go, we have a boat to catch!"

Dick whined, "What the hell do you mean, you filthy fuckfly?"

With the happy look of a television host of a toddler show, Luton replied, "We need to go away forever, become whole new people. To do that and not get caught we must do everything opposite of what we really like. Understand that?" Dick nodded and they started to move faster.

Panicking, even though the need to pay attention to the forest, both ran until they had to stop and pant. They had no idea they were very close to a bear cub and it was with great fear, pain and surprise that they were killed by a pissed off mother bear.



The media had a great time with the pictures. A grief stricken mother and fiance holding hands bravely as they stared at Joff's gold dusted casket.

Tywin hugging them tightly shedding a single tear for his grandson,trying to be strong for his daughter.

Sansa and Arya Stark standing in front of a gruesome amount of coffins. Hugging, crying, holding hands, being comforted by Cersei and Tywin.

It seemed that Tyrion was escorting Sansa and providing great comfort. A picture of him alone standing in front of the coffin. He appeared to pray over his nephew's coffin, eyes shut in obvious tragic pain. A picture of Sansa kneeling before her parents coffins sobbing and Tyrion hugging her.

Arya was escorted by a very large friend called Sandor. He held her by the shoulders as she stood over the family friend's coffin of Ramsay Bolton. She touched the coffin and whispered something to her close family friend. Her head went down and her shoulders shook. Quickly the large man had hugged her, smashing her face into his chest until she calmed herself.


Another ceremony happened within those few black days but only a few knew of it. Sansa and Tyrion had no pictures taken. There were no flowers or elaborate outfits this time. Sansa wore a simple dark violet dress and Tyrion wore a gray suit. Cersei, Tommen, Kevan and Tywin sat and watched. Arya stood for Sansa and since Jaime was not allowed to attend, Tyrion asked Podrick.

The boy looked uncomfortable in his own suit. Bronn kept laughing quietly in the corner at him. Every one of the company was there for crowd filler all in suits they have never seen before. Gregor and Sandor patrolled locked doors and windows of the elegant tea room Cersie used for charity events.

Outside of the locked door were Petyr and Varys speaking only with each other.

The same person married the couple is the same that married Arya to Ramsay. Brat wanted to kill him so badly and didn't hide that from him in the least. She not only politely whispered threats to him but glared at him throughout the whole ceremony. This seemed to make Sandor shut his eyes and shake his head while Gregor seemed to watch her with a cheerful glow growing in his eyes.

Just after they all dryly clapped for Mr. and Mrs. Lannister came tiresome congratulations.

Cersei kissed Sansa on the cheek and squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry, dear." That was the most honest thing Cersei has ever said to a person. When she was told of the impending wedding she gasped in horror and actually tried to change her father's mind.

Besides, it would get lonely with this large house and just her and Tommen. Sansa was pliable, a pretty broken doll and Cersei could care for her. It was the proper thing to do but her father was not swayed.

When Raff shook Sansa's hand, she smiled and said, "Don't forget your promise to me. I am married now. I want to see Jeyne for tea tomorrow. At the Baratheon's home, please. At two." He paled and stammered for a moment but to his dismay Sansa stared with stony eyes at him. "You aren't breaking a promise to me, are you? That would be mean and rude, not to mention it might be taken as a hateful prank. And what would Gregor say about that, Raff?"

He gaped at her for a second, then snapped his mouth shut and nodded. "She will be here." Raff muttered and Sansa finally released his hand from both of hers to escape.  

Tyrion grinned at his bride, thrilled that she finally has released the real person beneath what Joff made her.

Sansa changed a moment later as Cersei came by. "Thank you for not being mad at me about this, Cersei. You have become so important to me and I don't want to lose that. I..I can still live with you for awhile, right? I don't feel ready to leave your home yet..."

Tyrion rolled his eyes and watched as his sister sneered at him while holding the quivering, poor girl. "Of course you are not to blame, dear. We all know how marriages must work here. Don't worry, you have at least six months before you two can show you are married."



Piggy and Samara both winced. Raff only yelled for her when he was angry over something. Shuddering in anticipation of the pain coming, Samara left her stack of laundry she was folding and crawled fast towards Raff. He appeared in the kitchen just as she was going to leave it and he almost stepped on her. Whimpering, Samara went very low and kissed his shiny black shoes that she knew will really hurt when they kick her. 

"Good girl. Come here, pretty girl." Raff cooed at her but not in the very nice way. It was another kind that sounds like approval, it was dominant but it was safe. Samara loved this voice and reacted instantly to it. She didn't understand why there wasn't pain and why she was getting such a reward as praise and affection without earning it. Her face had gone up and her eyes rolled up to timidly let her twisted needy submissive worship show.

Raff smirked and rubbed gently under her chin and she melts with it. He knelt down on one knee to get closer to her. "Such a good girl for me. I am so proud of you, Samara. For learning so well, for being so loyal, so obedient." His hands softly worked, one smoothing out her hair, the other rubbing under her chin. His voice was soothing, it was pleased, it was safe and merciful and Samara drowned under it.

Piggy watched out of the corner of his eye as he continued to cook for the men he knew were coming soon. He saw poor Samara surrender completely to her Master. She was so broken down, she couldn't even tell that Raff was grooming her for something but Piggy wasn't so stupid. It was another trick of bullies. He knows grooming when he sees it.

"I am giving you permission to speak to answer questions, pretty girl." Raff cooed and Piggy froze in terror. He had so few secrets, Samara even less, but the few small things that they keep to themselves might be asked about.

Raff pinned the girl with his eyes and asked, "Do you love your Master, Samara?" As if it was being forced out of her painfully, Samara cried out, "Of course I do. Yes, Master, I love you!"

Raff gave her an affectionate tousle of her hair. "Good. Good girl. I need you to do something for me tomorrow. You want to help me, don't you?" Samara instantly agreed. "Yes Master. I would do anything for you, please!" He scratched under her chin and Piggy stared at Raff with disgust for a moment unable to help himself.

It was unfortunate that Raff saw it. "I'm glad to hear that, Samara. My pretty pet, I want you to go lay on your soft dog bed I gave you. I want to speak with Piggy for a moment."

Samara crawled, still glowing under her Master's praise, timid and vulnerable at admitting her fucked up feelings. She curled in the soft tan dog bed in the kitchen corner closest to where Raff always sat. Piggy cringed back as Raff strolled over to him, as if just taking a small walk. "What is for dinner, Piggy?"

Raff had a polite smile on his face, eyes innocent and welcoming. "I..uh..I am making fried chicken with gravy, mashed potatoes and broccoli pie. All of Polivar's favorite of mine because he left annoyed." Piggy couldn't stop the babble.

Raff reached the boy and grabbed his head with both hands. He slowly began to lower Piggy's face towards the hot oil and breaded chicken that spit hot tiny brands into his skin. "Please, Raff, I'm sorry! Please, please, don't! I'm sorry, so sorry!"

Samara watched from the bed and worried for Piggy but dared not move an inch. Not when Raff was truly pleased with her!

Raff pulled Piggy's face up and then threw the boy to the ground.

He stepped on Piggy's neck and warned, "Don't move or I might break your worthless fucking neck. Has my girl ever told you about my slaves? Huh? In your strange little silent language? If you were one of my slaves, I would have sold you to a cannibal who loves fat young things for a very high price. You are only here because you were so disgusting and pathetically amusing to bully that Polivar kept you. A pet. If you ever look at me with anything but respect, I will pay Polivar to let me train you for a few hours as punishment for being disrespectful to me. Hear me, boy?"

Piggy sobbed and whined, "Yes, I hear you. Please don't....I will never do it again. Please, I am very sorry. I am very sorry for being disrespectful to you, Raff." Satisfied, Raff took his foot off Piggy's neck. "Get your ass up and back to making dinner. Polivar will be so pissed if you burn his chicken."

Piggy struggled to his feet as the chicken began to smell a little smoky. He struggled with the shakes as he removed the skillet from the heat and opened windows. Then with a sob and a hateful thought for Raff, Piggy started to bread new chicken.

Raff snapped his fingers and Samara followed him obediently to his room. He patted his bed and Samara climbed up then knelt, waiting for orders or a cock to go into her mouth.

That was how Raff liked it and giving even this small pocket of time to Sansa with his girl bothered him. Not when she was doing so well, what if Sansa triggered something in Samara? What if she tried to kill her like Damon? What if she started to resist him because of this visit?

"Do you know that you are my favorite girl? My best pet? I picked you up something. I was saving it for a reward but I want to give it to you now." Raff came over to the bed and showed her a new collar. It was bright pink, her favorite color and there were rhinestone studs all around it. Samara cried and meekly smiled all at once, extending her neck forward. She kissed her Master's hands and the collar to show him her gratitude and thanks.

Raff took off her old collar and massaged her neck gently for a minute and rested his chin lightly on her head as his hands moved. "Good girl. Mine, all mine and I am yours. Your Master always no matter where you are or what you are doing, Master is always with you in your head. I need you to do something tomorrow. Do you remember Sansa Stark? You may speak freely until I tell you to be silent, pretty girl. There are no wrong answers, sweet girl, don't cry."

He cooed and wiped her tears away as Samara shook.

"Now, do you remember Sansa? I know since you have been here your past is hazy. But you know I went to Sansa's wedding today, correct?" Samara nodded. "Yes Master. Sansa was a friend..sleepovers and playing with dolls. We were friends until I broke up with Robb in high school. Sansa tried to still hang with me sometimes but it was always awkward."

She spoke as if it were about someone else and Raff smiled. "Very good, Samara. Such a good girl you are for me."

He caressed her face and spoke slow and softly. "Sansa asked if she could see you for tea. I had promised her when she married I would allow one visit with you. Master needs his good girl to sit and have tea with Sansa. It will only be you and her. I will be very close by, in case you need me. You can speak if you would like, sweet girl, it is alright, go on."

Samara very hesitantly offered her fears and concerns to her Master. "I..I do not remember. I don't....I know my rules, Master, I do! I don't know how to do tea. I'm scared I will fail you, Master. I never want to do that." Raff smiled and kissed his poor distressed girl for a moment before he replied.

"You don't need to remember anything, Samara. We will teach you how to have tea with Sansa. You just have to listen and obey, easy as that, pretty girl." Raff thought it was would easy to teach a girl how to have tea. I mean if children do it certainly his regressed slave can recall it?

He was very wrong.



Tommen managed to finally rid his fucking death suits and he took off.

When Varys finally made it to his "alternate" office, Tommen had been there for some hours.  He found Tommen in the quiet room, that was a first. It was a room for someone out of control that needs to let out some aggression.

It locks and inside it is all plush weave that is also very strong. It covers the floor and walls as well as the door. Varys hires some of the older children to monitor and use the quiet room as needed.

Varys watched the boy through the monitor as the boy screamed and threw himself against the walls. "He wasn't punching or hurting himself so I didn't put any restraints on him. The brat just kept kicking the broken games in the hallway while screeching. I tried to speak to him but he didn't seem to hear me. So I picked him up and tossed him in there about a half hour ago. He should tire out soon."

Varys thanked the teen and handed him twenty dollars. "On your night off you should go out and get some dinner, not pizza from the snack bar. When Tommen is ready to leave the room, bring him to me. Then you can call it a day here."

The grateful homeless teen left ready to boast to some of the others of his earned extra money. He was so lucky that Varys allows him and some others to sleep in the space upstairs. It even has a bathroom and working water, a whole bunch of cots and sleeping bags.

It was monitored and there was always someone that stopped any trouble before it started. Boy and girls of all ages were welcome to this safe haven of food and shelter. The one rule besides having something for Varys to hear. They must respect each other, no fighting or stealing allowed.

No sexual contact of any sort unless you can prove you are over sixteen and belong to the older rooms. If this place is ever raided, there is extensive evidence to show that NONE of the children were ever molested while in Vary's care.

Varys sat and did some work on his laptop while pondering what should be done about Tommen.


Chapter Text

Every person in the two estates including the Barracks was in a very bad mood. Except Tywin, Gregor and eventually, Kevan.

Tywin had his writing materials ready. He saved all written correspondence for these times. Those who wish to have their replies in electronic form recieve their answers within two days.

Gregor has taken his usual position behind Tywin. Brat was working with him for the foreseeable future. He watched happily as the girl tried to ignore her stinging armpits, thighs and feet.

Oh how he loves to use bamboo sticks and lucky that Waif saw them. Very carefully he struck so that Brat would still be able to do her job, not very deep or much. But enough that Brat wasn't about to forget her place again. Brat shifted slightly as she stood near the doors.

Sandor was now Cersei's shadow and there was no fear of seduction on any side of that. She was pretending he didn't exist and he wished she didn't exist. Gregor has decided that his brother and Brat were a bit too close and he plans to nip that in the fucking bud.Sandor and Brat having a romance doesn't fit into his plans.

The first of Tywin's visitors came through the door. It was his brother and his entourage. The three men stood on the opposite side of Brat. Kevan walked over to the chair and sat down. "Oh, knock it off, Tywin.  The letter you are responding to is probably years old and the person is dead. Father taught us both the same trick, remember?"

With a sigh, Tywin looked up and calmly asked, "How can I help you this morning, dear brother? I thought we were going to speak at our meeting later on." Kevan smiled and replied, "Yes, but that is about business, this is about family. I have two things to ask you."

Tywin raised his eyebrows and folded his hands on the desk. "Of course, family. I asked you here to help fix very specific issues, not to meddle. Well, go on then, ask your questions."

Kevan stood up and leaned over the desk intensely. "I want my son back. Tell that mountain behind you that Dusten needs to take a sick leave." Gregor snorted and Tywin smirked.

"I will not do that. Gregor takes his contracts with his men very seriously. Your son knew the rules and signed the contract with full knowledge of what he was doing. What he did was troublesome, yes. But I have full confidence that Gregor can handle Dusten's discipline. What is your next question?"

"He is my son! I have the right to help him if he is ill. Dusten-" Kevan frowned as Tywin interrupted him. "He is an adult, you have no rights concerning him. He is not ill, he is a young man easily manipulated by older women. Gregor will see that Dusten learns to be a little wiser in his choices. Now, what is your next question?"

Kevan looked offended but he gave in and changed subjects. "Fine then. I would like to take Tommen back to Casterly Rock with me. No one here has time for him and he is clearly traumatized. I can offer care, support, education and more, you know that."

Tywin shook his head. "No. Tommen must stay here with me. At least for now. However, you won't go home empty handed. If you are up to a challenge, that is. Since you are so determined to fix someone's mental illness." Kevan stared at his brother. When he left the study a bit later, he was smiling. It was not a nice smile.


Cersei stormed into her father's study. Tywin was not surprised and he continued his letter. She slammed her fists on the desk. "You will NOT allow that meddling asshole take my son anywhere! Do you hear me, he is MY SON. Not yours and certainly not his."

Tywin looked up slowly and sternly at his daughter. "No one is taking Tommen anywhere, dear. Tommen is not leaving." Cersei snarled and hissed out, "My boy hasn't been seen in over six hours and Uncle Kevan just said he was packing to head home. He said that he wasn't able to help his son, but he is taking another that need his assistance. I doubt he means Sansa or Tyrion!" 

Looking over his shoulder, Tywin muttered, "Send someone to find Tommen, please." Gregor nodded and texted Dusten to go find the boy. "Dusten will use the tracker in Tommen's phone to find him." Gregor assured Cersei and he leaned back against the wall.

"It isn't Tommen that is leaving with Kevan, it's you. This is one scandal too many, dear. I stand to gain all of the North and I can't have you making a mess of it. Do you really think Olenna Tyrell is going to be alright with this? You think she doesn't suspect you, us of killing her grand children after framing them? It is too dangerous for you to be here. You will go to Casterly Rock with your uncle who will care for you while you seek treatment. He will help facilitate that." Tywin stared at his daughter as she went pale.

"I won't go anywhere. You cannot force me to leave with anyone! How dare you try to do this to me? I am a person not a fucking chess piece, father!" Cersei panted with rage and fear.

"Do you wish to see your son on holidays and vacations? I can simply have you put away. As soon as I cut off all access to Valium and liquor, how sick do you think you'll get? I can get you committed, dear. So can your uncle. Then you will never see your son. So you will go to Casterly Rock and see whichever therapist your uncle suggests. You will be allowed to continue your pills and wine as long as you comply with your uncle and therapist."

Tywin remained impassive as his daughter cried tears of pure rage as she spit out, "I fucking hate you. I hate you with every piece of me." 


Dusten stared down into the gulch and moaned. There was Tommen's phone, abandoned along with his wallet. He quickly texted Gregor and took a picture of the cell phone and wallet still lying in the mud. This was going to be such a bad and long day. 


Polivar came into the Barracks to a most interesting scene in the kitchen. The kitchen table was set for a grand tea party. That was baffling enough. Raff sat in one chair and across from him sat Samara. Raff had his face in his hands, trying to keep his temper and Samara was in tears. "Dare I ask?" Raff said something but it was muffled by his hands and Samara as usual said nothing.

Piggy brought Polivar his coffee and gave the latest gossip. "Raff is trying to teach Samara how to act at Sansa's tea visit today. But Samara is unable to just act normal, without commands. And having Raff as a tea partner makes it worse. It is her Master, she can't act as a free girl would in front of her own Master." Shoving his boy, Polivar walked over to Raff and kicked his foot.

"Hey moron, if you want it to work, you can't be the one acting with her. Let my Piggy do it. He can pretend to be like Sansa and Samara can feel better about doing it right for you." Raff looked up at Polivar then he stared coldly at the boy. "Yeah, fine. I'm out of patience and ideas." He stood up and shoved Piggy into the seat.

Raff went over to Samara and smoothed her hair, making sure it was not in her face.

"I want you to have a tea party with Piggy. You have full permission to speak and have tea, sandwiches, whatever is offered during tea. With Piggy now and with Sansa later. Remember that, sweet girl?" Samara nodded but leaned into Raff's touch and shivered. "Good girl. It is alright, just do this for your Master and I will be so pleased with you." Raff cooed and then stepped back. He and Polivar sat on the counter, having coffee.

Samara managed a timid smile and spoke after a few failed tries. "This is the first time I can speak to you. Really talk out loud to you." Piggy beamed and nodded. "I know, right? Now just make your voice a little louder and firmer. You are certain of what you are saying so make sure that I know it. Okay? You are doing really well!"

Soon she was pouring tea and she decided on her own how she wanted it. Samara couldn't help but to keep looking over at Raff. He would smile encouragingly. It wasn't great, but it would pass for a small visit, he hoped.

Raff gave her a small break, letting her eat lunch from his hand. Then he sat her in the chair and asked her questions, then told her the answers. She repeated the answers and tried to memorize them as best she could.

Samara was given a shower by her Master and he pressed the fake nails onto her fingers. She whimpered but Raff hushed her gently, it made the pain worth the nice treatment. The dress was different, not at all what she wore when out with Master. It was less revealing, longer and looked very expensive.

Raff did not do her hair like he usually likes it. Straight and long on either side of her head. He curled her hair with a hot iron as he softly prompted her in the questions again.

If she answered wrong the iron slipped and burned her a little. When Samara got the answers right, Raff told her she was a very good girl. Samara tried very hard and by the time her hair was done all the answers were correct. Samara felt her hair styled then Raff brought out make up.

That was different too. The usual dark colors weren't used, these were pastels, very soft pinks and corals. Swiftly, her Master applied some make up but it was not nearly as much as usual. 

She never looked in mirrors, but today Samara peeked into it. Who was this person staring back at her? It was a pretty girl, a soft featured young lady with expensive jewelry and clothes. The hair was pulled back into a pony tail then a mass of black curls cloaked her to her hips. Samara whimpered and inched into Raff's side.

"I know that girl isn't really my lovely Samara. It is just make up, just a costume and an act. My good girl will not forget who she is, will she? You will not disappoint me, you would never do that, not MY pet." Raff's voice was kind but there was an edge to it. Samara yelped in pain as Raff grabbed her neck and yanked her back. Raff grabbed the front of her throat and slammed her into the wall. He stepped close, until they were touching.

"You like my mercy, my gifts to you? Do you want to have your Master be kinder? Then you must earn it. Do this for me. You will have tea with Sansa, you will say what I have taught you and then you leave. I will be right outside the door waiting for my pet. If I cannot be there for some reason, you will walk back to the Barracks on your own. I will trust you with this because I know my Samara is loyal and loves me. She would never do anything that would hurt me...would you?"

Raff watched the girl cry, he saw her desperate silent pleading to speak.

"No speaking right now. I want you to listen and pay attention, be calm. You will do enough talking with Sansa soon enough. Now, I want you to remember at all times, who owns you. I want you to keep my voice in your head to guide you, to remind you that you are only on a task. That no matter how Sansa acts, no matter what she says, only Master can ever keep you safe. You know that, don't you, sweet pretty girl? I am going to give you some of those drops to help you walk better. Open your mouth for me, pretty girl."

Obediently, Samara opened her mouth and cried in relief as the drops made the constant pain ease. Samara has learned how to focus and fight off the buzz of the drug. What mattered to Samara was the ability to move her limbs without biting back screams. Raff was caressing her face and then he bit at her lips. "My good girl, aren't you?"

Samara was relaxed and felt warm as one of his hands slipped between her legs. "Here is another way to relax and reward my loyal pet. Shh...I want to let my pet have all the pleasure right now. Good girl, pump against my are a needy little bitch..MY needy little bitch. Good bitch...listen to you whine, you want Master to use his fingers?"

Raff used three fingers hard and fast until his girl soaked his hand while crying out. "There, feel better?" Raff kissed her head while Samara recovered. "Show me that you deserve all this special treatment, if you truly love me, you will not fail me. I have faith in you, Samara."


Just as Raff got to the door of the Baratheon's with Samara when he received a text from Gregor. Swearing under his breath, Raff was about to bring Samara back home when the door opened. "I need to change the date. I just received a text from Gregor, I need to go assist Dusten." 

Sansa smiled brilliantly at them both then she said to Raff, "Oh, it was only us girls having tea, you weren't invited, remember? When we are done I will have her go straight home. With an escort if it pleases you. I swear to keep the visit to thirty minutes."

He had no choice, he had to go. "Fine. Samara can walk herself back home, I trust my girl. Be good for me, sweet pet." Raff stroked Samara's head for a moment then Sansa said, "You changed her name? And to the name of a horror girl? I am calling her Jeyne, its her name as far as I am concerned."

Raff's features hardened and he satred at Sansa. "No. You will call her by Samara or I will order her to leave. If Samara hears the name Jeyne she is to leave. You understand that, Samara? Good girl." With a last warning glare to Sansa, he left. 


Gregor grabbed hold of Brat when the three robots that Kevan brought covered their family meal. He dragged her out the door and walked quickly towards his cottage. "Sir, have I done something wrong?" After her punishment she has been trying her hardest to behave. What could she have done?

In confusion, Brat saw that Gregor was actually heading for his home. Even Sandor hasn't gotten to see it, why was Brat receiving this honor? Her curious was peaked but so was her trepidation.

Chapter Text

Brat followed Gregor into his house with admitted curiosity. Even Sandor has only seen what little bit they all can glimpse from the burned out spaces. It was nice but to Arya Stark's practiced if uninterested eye this was nothing special.

This was what Uncle Petyr's place looked like, there is nothing special in that. She expected skull candles and human skin wallpaper, it was a bit of a let down. Until she entered the living room and hollered, "OH COME ON!"

Petyr smirked and said, "Why good day to you too, Brat."


Samara sat across from Sansa. "Thank you for coming to visit with me. It was wrong of me to just run off like that the last time we saw each other. Raff assured me that while you are in here with me that you are allowed to use your voice. Would you like some tea?"

Too late Sansa saw what had come to tea as Samara grabbed the silver tea pot and swung the boiling hot water into that pretty face. While the redhead screamed, Samara began to beat the girl's head in until it was mush and bone and gristle.


"Yes, thank you." Samara smiled the best she could pretending it was Piggy telling a joke. "I am sorry to hear of your many losses, Sansa." She took the cup from Sansa and tried to remember how she liked her tea again.

"You like two sugars with a little milk." Sansa offered dryly and Samara gave a small practiced giggle. "I guess I have forgotten a few things. Sorry."

Rolling her eyes, Sansa sipped at her tea then said, "You sound coached to death and every move of yours is robotic. When I saw you last time, that was the real girl? Because if this is an act, its a shitty one. The deranged girl was much more natural."

Samara kept her eyes down and sipped at her tea. "It's black still, you don't like it that way." Sansa said but Samara sipped and found she liked the harsher taste. "I like it this way now."

Sansa smiled and leaned over to put her hand gently on Samara's arm. A gasp and Samara froze, gritting her teeth as if the touch burned.

"Listen, I know you are scared. Joff scared me to death, he hurt me badly, not as bad as you...but quite badly. Let me help you, I didn't have power to before...but I do now. I can keep you hidden from Raff or I can have him killed, whichever you'd prefer. Please, I can save you if you'll let me." Sansa waited for Samara to agree.

Sansa felt a chill as Samara's eyes rose to hers very slowly and a cold smirk played on her lips.

"Save me? Not my friend Piggy who has kept me sane and has taken beatings in my place? Not your sister who has also tried to protect me? Why save me? We haven't been good friends in years. You need another person in case you have more framing to do? I knew Loras and Margeary these past few months, they were harmless on their own without their grandmother. They also tried to defend me. I never knew Piggy, Loras, Margeary most of my life and I barely knew your sister and yet...they all defended me. I knew you quite well once...only now you suddenly care? Fuck you, Sansa. Fuck you."

"Do you think if you show Raff how obedient you are and how much you care for him he will ease up on you? Do you think if you can just be good enough he will love you? Treat you better? I had those same exact thoughts with Joff and it proved wrong every time. And that was a man who could only go half as far as Raff can go. How long until he kills you?"

Sansa was relentless and Samara got up, heading for the door. "No, I have another fifteen minutes left. You can leave then but until that time you will hear me out." Sansa grabbed Samara's arm when the girl didn't listen to her. She didn't expect the hard shove that sent her to the floor.

"You always had to have something better than the rest of us! Well, this might be shitty for you but it is all I have got left! You aren't ruining it for me, Sansa. Ask Damon about making me break my rules. Leave me alone and don't ask for any more visits with me."

Samara yanked open the door and headed for the door as fast as she could. Only after she fled to the fresh sunny air did she claw the ponytail holder out and push her hair over her face. She headed for the Barracks from behind the homes so no one would see her.

As she passed Gregor's house she could hear Brat screaming in what sounded like rage and pain. Then Samara heard a man she has never heard before shriek and curse. By the time Gregor yelled, Samara was already past the house and almost to her own yard. 


Only Sandor was present to see Petyr come storming out of his brother's house, holding a bloody towel to his hand. He came to tell Gregor that one of the creepy sunglasses dudes just took his damned job. That he went to Tywin and was told that Kevan had full custody of Cersei's welfare.

Sandor never made it to the door to knock before Petyr came flying out.

Seconds after Petyr came out, Brat came flying after him. Sandor stared as Brat dove for the man's legs and brought the shrieking man down. He went to remove her from Petyr's kicking legs but Sandor found himself thrown aside. Gregor calmly leaned down and plucked the angry girl off the cursing man.

"You need to get control over her!" Petyr hissed and Gregor swung back around as if he didn't have Brat tucked under one of his arms like luggage. "Excuse me? Would you like to discuss my control issues? Because we can go right back inside and really have a good heart to heart over it."

Petyr scurried to his feet and backed up fast. "No...I lost my temper, the girl rattled me. Forgive my slip of the tongue." He quickly left and Gregor turned to see Sandor.

"What the fuck do you want? Why aren't you with Cersei?" Sandor stammered out about Kevan and Gregor swore. "Fine. Let Kevan handle shit there then. Go follow up with Dusten and Raff about Tommen. I want him found as soon as possible."

Then the giant went back into his cottage carrying Brat with him. Sandor meant to just obey and leave with his commands. And yet, he found himself knocking on his brother's door. A terrible thought had come to him, seeing Petyr leave Gregor's house. And how pissed and desperate Brat had seemed...

Gregor yanked the door open again. This time he had Brat by the hair and she was not fighting but she still looked as if she wanted to kill someone. Sandor blurted out words before his brother could say anything. "Tell me you didn't just marry her?"

Both Gregor and Brat stared at Sandor with wide horrified eyes. "NO!" They both yelled and Gregor slammed the door shut again. Sandor was relieved and concerned all at once but decided not to press his luck further.


Polivar whistled as he unlocked the door and turned the light and fan on. "Holy hell...fucking stinks in here. Still having the runs, eh? Well, morphine only can do so much when you are trying to detox from H." A sound of moaning and the scrape of heavy chains across the floor.

Without looking at the nearly cadaverous man on the floor, Polivar turned on the hose and cleaned out the bucket full of waste. "Please, don't! Don't, it hurts too much!" Croaked a faint pleading voice and Loras tried to curl in on himself.

With a sunny grin, Polivar turned the spray on the man then got closer to kick the man. "Stand up and let me get all of you or I'll shove the hose up your ass." Loras cried but stood up and shivered, dribbling piss down his leg as Polivar hosed him down.

"Disgusting, fucking revolting, man. I make me long for the sweet sight of my Piggy. Next to you, he is a lovely male specimen to behold! Ah, Loras how far you have sunk. I feel bad for you, I do. That is why I have been treating you so well." Polivar set up the IV stand and attached a saline bag to it. 

"You know the drill, Loras. You don't get any morphine until you let me get some hydration in you. I can always come back later..." Polivar chuckled as Loras tried to crawl closer. "No! Please! Don't leave! Here, here!" Loras stuck out his scrawny arm for the needle.

"Such a fuss when you have been shoving needles into your body all along." Polivar was anything but gentle as he forced a half collapsed vein to accept the needle. Loras shuddered as the cold saline began to work it's way through him. "Now, please? Now?"

Polivar sighed and shook his head muttering, "Sickening." He added some morphine into the line and sat in a chair. "Now, feeling a little better, dear?" Loras relaxed his body a little and he nodded.

"Good. Now, answer a few questions for me like a good boy. First, do you remember who you are?" With a sob, the ghoulish prisoner responded. "Loras Tyrell. My sister...Cersei killed her in front of me...just...killed her. Please kill me now." Polivar texted Gregor that Loras was coherent enough for questioning now.


Dusten was slogging through muddy ground hoping for more clues as to where Tommen was. Raff was already questioning all those nearby and Sandor was checking with the technician through street camera and store cameras. His cell rang and Dusten hissed when he saw who was calling him. "Why the fuck are you calling me? Do you want to get us both in more trouble?"

Cersei's voice was tearful and strained. "Dusten? I had to call you...there is no one else for me to call or talk to. Listen, I wasn't using you though I know that is what they must all be telling you. I care for you...but I had to avenge my son, you see that don't you?"

Dusten shut his eyes then bit out, "You used me so you could kill Margeary. Now you want to use me for something else, don't you?"

"No! I will prove to you that its only you that I want...I will walk away from it all right now for you. I will leave all the money and estates, all of it behind if you will just leave with me now. We can go anywhere and start over together."

A bitter smirk and Dusten drawled out, "You would leave it all for me, Cersei? Even your missing son, Tommen? I am looking for him now. And you would rather have me just drop this and meet you so we can run off together? Really? The worst part is I fell for it the first time, even this time, it sounds so real and yet I know it isn't. It hurts that you would treat me so meanly the same way twice. Don't call me again, cousin."

He called Gregor and told him that Cersei called and exactly what was said. Sandor made the same call two minutes later from the tech's office. All Dusten and Cersei's calls are being monitored. Dusten's accounting matched the recording which pleased Gregor, among the other things that were pleasing Gregor today.


Gregor smiled until Raff called him a bit later saying he found Tommen's burnt body.

Chapter Text

Tommen followed Varys with the blind hope of a teen who has seen too much and wants nothing more than to forget. Tommen told Varys he would rather die than stay with his family anymore and so Varys obliged him. A young boy was found dead that looked very similar to Tommen and was nearly incinerated.

It would suffice long enough to get Tommen away from the North. Varys had booked a private jet for himself and the golden boy. The questions from Tommen about where they were going were met with advice to be patient.

"What if your goal was to kill me and I just let you?" Tommen whispered at one point and Varys gave him a gentle smirk. "My dear boy, if I wanted you dead, you would have been dead long before now. Why would I waste my time taking you far away if only to murder you? Seems pointless and way too much effort."

The plane landed and a limo was waiting for them. It was lovely country but Tommen isn't sure yet where he is but he has a sneaking suspicion. As lovely as the scenery was, Tommen was having trouble breathing. "You took me to HighGarden to Olenna Tyrell?"

Varys patted Tommen's knee. "You are far away from home. Olenna doesn't hurt children anymore than I do. You might be able to even do some good here. You know Olenna and she understands that none of what has happened is your fault. She is as grateful as I am for all your information." The car stopped and Varys managed to coax Tommen out of the car. Then they disappeared into Olenna's garden.


Cersei and Sansa were both under Kevan's charge at the Baratheon estate. He has moved in as well as his bodyguards until they leave with Cersei. During a tense dinner, Cersei looked up at her uncle and asked, "Can we at least wait until I am sure Tommen is safe before we leave? I won't give you any trouble until we are on the road. But let me make sure my son is safe before you cart me off."

Kevan sighed and had nodded. "I can be reasonable. You should know your son is safe and have the chance to say goodbye to him. To explain you will see him on vacations, holidays. We will stay until Tommen is home but you are not to leave this estate unless it is to go over to your father's home. Understand?' Cersei agreed.

Sansa cleared her throat and asked, "Once Cersei leaves, are Tommen and I expected to live here or at the Lannister house?" Kevan shrugged. "I don't know. You might wish to ask Tywin or Tyrion about that tomorrow. I understand Tyrion is taking you out to a musical and dinner. That should be quite lovely. I was always fond of my youngest nephew. Very smart boy if a bit misguided. I have twice managed to detox and rehabilitate him, but Tyrion always lapses."

As if conjured, Tyrion entered the dining room. "Sorry to interrupt dinner. Cersei, father would like to see you. Perhaps Uncle Kevan could escort you. I'll stay to keep Sansa company until you return." This was not usual at all and Cersei stood very carefully, studying her brother's hateful little face. She saw a terrible compassion that made Cersei walk on stiffened legs. Kevan held her arm to steady her as they strode across the lawns in the brisk air.  

She stood numb as Kevan held her shoulders and her father coldly informed her that a body was found. It was burnt but it wore Tommen's shoes. Cersei nodded and very calmly spoke. "I am going home now. I want to go my room with my pills and my wine. Once I leave this frozen hellhole I am never returning. I am also never speaking to you again, father." Cersei turned and stared at Kevan with burnt out eyes. "Please take me away from him..from here."


Raff, Polivar and Dusten staggered into the Barracks after spending most of their day and night chasing after Tommen's trail. The body has been taken by Qyburn to an associate to run tests but it could take weeks.

Piggy had made sure to keep coffee brewing and food heated for when they entered. In between the domestic work he soothed Samara who had come in hysterical earlier. Her hands had flown all over her scars about how Sansa had spoke and acted.

Samara crawled forth and kissed Raff's boots, not caring if they were covered in mud. Raff told her to kneel up and then he grabbed her chin to look into her eyes. "Free speech, Samara. Tell me about your tea party today." She meekly looked into those eyes she loves/hates/loves and spoke. "I left early, Master. Sansa said she could hide me from you or she could kill you. So I left, Master."

Raising an eyebrow, Raff smirked. "Did you hear that, gentlemen? Sansa could kill me or she could take away something of mine." Polivar laughed and but Dustin shrugged as he sat down to eat. "Sansa could hire someone to do it. Or poison you like she did Joff. What? Oh, come on...of course she did it. Look at the evidence-"

Raff stepped over Samara and kicked Dusten's chair over. "Shut the fuck up for once! WE WEREN'T ASKED TO LOOK AT THE EVIDENCE. That isn't part of our job. We follow orders, remember? You want to have your fucking paranoia that is fine. But when you are talking about our fucking employers you might want to be a little more careful, huh?"

Polivar got there just as Dusten launched himself at Raff. Samara had dove under the table and away from the fighting as quick as she could. He held Dustin and Raff back with one palm on each heaving chest.

"Hey! We are all fucking tired, alright? Both of you are overreacting and being assholes. And if you think I am overreacting myself, then ask yourselves this. How bad are you both acting that I have become the voice of reason?"

That did give both men pause. "Fuck this." Raff muttered and went to sit in his chair. Before he could even snap his fingers, Samara was there. "You have pleased me today. You were very loyal to leave when Sansa said such terrible lies to you. I won't let her near you again, pet." When Samara brought Raff's food and drink, she wasn't back on her knees. Raff let her sit on his lap again and gave her several bites of food.

Later that evening Raff let Samara sleep on the bed, near the bottom. This was after he brought her to orgasm twice. It amused him how she seemed to love it and despise it all at once. It was of course something that will go away soon enough but it was fun to watch the struggle. Raff found he had always loved to deal with the struggling slaves at work. But it was much more satisfying knowing he would keep her to always see only himself reflected in her eyes.


Ronald was the name of the man in front of Cersei's door. This is a distasteful chore to have to hear the vile woman getting high and drunk while grieving for another dead child. It was got him through this night, knowing he had to have tolerance for a grieving mother.

He knew Kevan could help this woman if they only could get her away from all of this. She could never handle power, riches nor could her poisonous relationship with her family members continue.

Kevan had confided in his men as he always does. How it pained him to see how bad things have gotten for his brother and his family. He could at least try to save Cersei if no one else. Though Kevan's men knew that the man will hold out hope for his son forever.

Ronald, Howard and Bill also hoped for such a sweet reunion but felt it wasn't bound to happen this trip. A thump and groan from inside the room caught Ronald's attention. He gave a soft knock and inquired, "Mrs. Baratheon, are you alright?"

When there was no response, Ronald unlocked the door and opened it. He sincerely hoped the woman hasn't overdosed but Tywin had been strict that until she left, Cersei could have her poisons. The second thing the married man hoped was that Cersei wasn't naked or close to.

With a sigh, Ronald found his prayers answered on both accounts. The woman was half on her knees, vomit with wine and pills pooled around her. She was in the bathroom, or close enough.

Ronald shuddered with disgust but who else could help her? Cersei was wearing a bulky bathrobe that was wine stained and it was half soaked in the vomit.

"Let me help you. At least let's get you to the toilet then I can get Sansa to help." He said kindly as Cersei nodded and muttered something about going to throw up again. Ronald hurried to bend to help Cersie stand so he could walk her to the toilet. There was a muffled sound and then Ronald had no thoughts at all.

Cersei let the man drop and she took off the bathrobe. She lurched and finished vomiting. The gun was hanging from her hand as she finished expelling all the wine and pills she took earlier.

Years of flirting with eating disorders gave her the ability to vomit at will. She wiped her mouth off and ripped the robe off. Wearing an old black velvet jumpsuit one of her well meaning children had given her for some mothers day gift, Cersei took her gun and was gone.


"We are clear now, aren't we?" Gregor watched the sobbing girl nod her head wearily. "Excellent. Now you may get your ass to bed and be here at first light in line with the others. We are-" A beep sounded from his phone that made Gregor instantly answer it.

Gregor snarled at Brat a moment later to head to bed while she had the chance to. The giant stormed past Brat and got to the Lannisters before she did. He went to the technician first then with a furious headache, he woke up Tywin.

Tywin stared stonily at the image of his only surviving grandchild sitting between Olenna Tyrell and Varys. Tommen didn't look injured but Tywin knew the blade was at the boy's neck even if the boy didn't see it.

"Get the woman on the phone now." His voice cracked like a whip. Gregor bit back the words that he wasn't a fucking secretary. Gregor picked up Tywin's phone and made the call, handing the phone to Tywin as it rang.

"It is rather late for a social call, Tywin." Olenna's voice didn't sound the least bit tired of course.

"What do you want, Olenna?" Tywin snapped.

"Rude as ever, Tywin. Well, you have one of my grandchildren dead by your daughter's hand. The same one you let Sansa frame for the murder of your sadistic, worthless grandson. Forgo any objections, its tiresome. Is Loras still alive and in returnable condition? If so, you return him to me along with the death of your daughter and I'll release Tommen to you. Otherwise, I will simply raise the boy myself and when you die, who will be able to contest that I and my son Mace own your dynasty and the boy? Your drunkard son or the arrogant incest loving one?"

Olenna gave a dry chuckle. "Take some time to think upon it, Tywin."

The line disconnected.

Tywin threw the phone at the desk and rubbed his eyes for a second. He then looked up at the frames along the wall. From paintings to pictures of his ancestors. They always lived wherever his desk was to remind him of the duty, of the sacrifices needed.

"Gregor, send someone to kill Cersei. I want it to look like an accident or suicide. Make it quick and as merciful as you can. I'll tell my brother myself to pull his man from her door. Then tomorrow we can send proof of her death and Loras back to Olenna. Retrieve Tommen."

Gregor growled out, "Sir, Loras confessed to myself and each of the men what he did. He confessed while he was fucked up, he confessed while he sobering up and still now. He let those Wildlings and Northern boys in to slaughter us all. Now I tell my boys his punishment was for us to sober him up to send him back to his family?"

Tywin slowly walked over to Gregor and allowed his eyes to travel upwards until they met Gregor's eyes. "I really should use whomever you get to see to your nails. You can tell your men whatever you would like but you have Cersei dead and Loras alive to be sent home. My grandson is at stake, the last of my line unless Tyrion somehow manages to get Sansa pregnant." 

Tywin called his brother and Gregor stormed out of the room, seething. His anger was too great, he decided to kill Cersei himself before he killed Tywin. When Gregor arrived, the lights were coming on and that wasn't right.

Kevan wouldn't turn on lights knowing someone was coming to murder Cersei. With his pounding headache getting stronger, Gregor ran into the house. Kevan was in a fine rage and despair over the death of one of his sunglasses men. Gregor was only concerned with the fact that Kevan has allowed Cersei to escape.

Chapter Text

Seeing Gregor standing before them grim was not unusual. What was unusual was the greeting.

"This morning we hold our meeting inside the training quarters. Move your asses." They all gave each other looks hoping someone had an answer to this different routine. Forming a line inside the main room, they all found themselves staring at large eraser board.

"All parents say they don't have favorite children, but I do. Whichever one of you pleases me the most is my favorite. And that can change hour to fucking hour with you sad sacks of shit. So let's see where we all are, shall we?"

Gregor grabbed a marker and put at the top Brat's name, then he turned and grinned. "That is a perfect example of how quickly someone can change in my eyes. Yesterday, Brat was still on my favorite list..then she wanted to give me fucking attitude." Gregor crossed out her name but Brat looked almost unfazed.

He scrawled Sandor's name instead. "There is a pretty picture for you men...that Sandor has bested all of you in favoritism." Giving a scathing glare around the room, Gregor let that sink in. Under his brother's name Gregor put Brat's.

Raff's name was written next to Brat's then Gregor shook his head. "Oh no...I had almost forgot. I heard about Sansa being upset after a visit for tea with YOUR FUCKING PET! So not only did I get to deal with Tywin's bullshit yesterday, I had to listen to his brother and that fucking dwarf!" Gregor crossed out Raff's name and rewrote it below Brat's. Then he added Polivar next to Brat's.

Beneath Raff's name he wrote Dusten. Gregor stared at them all with a look of severe disgust. He threw the chalk at Dusten but the roaring was for them all.

"You should be nearly killing yourselves to be at the top of my fucking list! Instead I am receiving mediocrity! Is this all you are going to be? Does the cold air numb your brains, bodies and fucking goals? I am trying my fucking hardest to cover our asses, to make sure we all recieve our due and I can't do that if you are fucking up!" Gregor roared at them all and they all flinched guiltily. 

"Dusten, do you recall that you have a punishment coming? Well, your father has left in a hurry this morning. So before I pass out schedules, let's get straight to your misery. Thanks to your cock, let me explain what has happened. Tommen has been kidnapped until Loras is returned and Cersei has been killed. Except Cersei killed your father's man last night and has gone missing. So here is your punishment, asshole. I want her found and killed by you personally. And then you can be the one to escort Loras home. The man that allowed a near massacre, the man responsible for Tickler's death, for the fires. We must release him back to his grandmother rather than give him the torture and death he deserves."

Dusten was as pale as milk and he was wilting under the stern gaze not just of Gregor but of them all. "I will kill her and return Loras. I am sorry, Sir. I am sorry to all of you, I let you all down and I must fix it."

Nodding, the giant moved on to Polivar. "You will guard Sansa until further notice. And every fucking word anyone says to her I want to know!" Pointing at Raff he said, "You can spend the day helping Brat train. In between training sessions, make sure you check on those workers you have crawling around. I want to see marked improvement in Brat tomorrow or it will be your hide and hers!"  

Gregor stared at his brother and snapped, "Patrol the grounds." Sandor's mouth opened in shock and indignation. "That is a shit job for someone who made the top of your list." The words came out before Sandor could take them back.

Gregor's eyes grew round and shiny like Christmas morning. "And now you have just lost that position by your fucking shitty ass attitude. I don't feel there was any respect in that at all. Not a little, not even a smidgen and I am really reaching for that smidgen...nope..." He punched Sandor so hard in the stomach the man slowly sunk to the ground.

Nearly skipping in glee, Gregor went to cross out Sandor's name then he put it next to Raff. He frowned, "Now that makes me sad, my lackadaisical children. I think incentive is in order, oh yes! Is it time for another rectal hydration treatment? Would that make you all perk up and do better?"

Gregor glared then sneered, "You are all so very lucky that I do not have the time this morning. Get the fuck moving, now!" Gregor grabbed Sandor by his arm. "Not you, asshole. You and I are going to the office."

When Sandor came out he didn't look injured or emotionally shattered. He did look grimmer and a bit worried. Luckily, Raff and Brat were too busy sparring to notice. Dusten has left to track Cersei and Polivar went to be there when Sansa woke up.



Sansa was dismayed to open her door and see Polivar grinning at her. Thank goodness she decided to dress before going to breakfast. "Am I suddenly so important to still warrant my own bodyguard?" Her voice was joking but her eyes were not, they were irritated.

Polivar's smile grew even wider. "Since you are alone here I will be thrilled to escort you about. I hear that Tywin will have you move into their home until you are married. Then you and Tyrion get this fancy place to yourselves."

Looking about the place, Sansa considered that. "I like that idea better than living with Tywin. I must contact Petyr about redecorating."


Cersei fought with the pay phone for a good ten minutes before getting the damned operator. She waited while the operator asked permission to reverse the charges for the call. Jaime's voice never sounded so good to her.

"Jaime, I'm ready to commit to you. We need to run, just us...can you meet me? I'm somewhere in the Riverlands. I don't have enough funds to make it all the way South to you."

"Where do I meet you? I will get some funds for us. I've always wanted this, you know how long I have waited for you to say that to me."

A bitter laugh bubbled from Cersei's dry lips and mouth. "We are twins. I can tell when you are lying and when something is wrong. When did father call you? It figures. I finally commit to something for us and you are the one to back out. I love you and I hate you."

As Jaime tried to beg Cersei not to hang up, to listen to reason, she hung up. Great, he will tell Tywin she is in the Riverlands. Gregor and his merry band of assholes will be after her in moments. Not to mention, probably uncle Kevan and his Agent Smiths. Cersei ran for her life.

Chapter Text

Harold and Bob were shaken, truly for the first time shaken. Ronald's death wounded them both but it seemed to nearly destroy Kevan. He already has set up enough funds that Ronald's wife and children will be quite well off financially. And of course all three of them shall help with fatherly duties towards Ronald's children.

"I should have seen how sick, how far gone that woman was." Kevan used his guilt as incentive for them to try and hunt Cersei down before going to tell Ronald's wife she was a widow. 


Did they think she was fucking blind?

Cersei was about to leave the small gas station store when she saw her uncle's fancy family safe car go by. The flash of sun on glasses made her wince and she ducked out the back of the store. Forcing herself not to panic Cersei ran up the train tracks, hoping to get back to the tiny motel room she checked into earlier.

Even wearing a black wig and a wool hat as well as a fake name might not have been enough. But Cersei had to go back to retrieve the money she has stolen. It had been years since Cersei had fun playing with pick pocketing and thievery, but she remembered it quite well.

She flew out of the bushes, into the parking lot of the seedy, decrepit building. And as she ran into the lobby, Cersei saw her uncle's sensible vehicle do a very insensible turn through traffic into the parking lot. Flying up the staircase towards a buzzing lit, flickering hallway, Cersei was already calculating her way out.

First to get the money, then out the fire escape, up two floors to the steroid rage lunkheads she deliberately has flirted with in case of fodder. Once she convinces them to keep the men away from her, Cersei will fly out their back door and be gone.

Yanking the door open after frantically turning the key, she ran into her room.

Grabbing the backpack with her money, clothes and gun, Cersei ran for the window. Tossing the bag out ahead of her, Cersei nearly leaped out onto the rusty metal. She could hear the door being smashed open and Cersei felt bile rising in her throat. Faster, they will shoot as soon as they can, she has to get to the other room fast.

Cersei flew up the stairs, breaths coming in desperate sobs of anger and fear. By some miracle, here was the window just as the first shot rang upwards and missed her by inches.

Cersei threw herself at the window of the idiot muscle boys and thanked the gods that the widow was open. She registered the gun just as she was climbing in the window. Before Cersei could attempt to plead, Dusten shot her between the eyes.

The impact knocked her backwards and the men coming up watched the woman plummet down. Kevan sent Harold down to make sure the vile woman was dead as he and Bob continued upwards. Kevan looked at the dead muscle bound young men, all bound, gagged and bullets in their heads. "Did you have to kill them?"

Dusten shrugged. "It was the easiest, quickest route to killing my target. Goodbye, father."

Kevan grabbed his son's arm and pleaded, "Come home with me. Things are falling apart and you will get buried under it all. Please, listen to me for once and save your own damned life."

Staring at his father with deadened eyes he spoke causally. "If Gregor ordered me to kill you, I'd do it just as fast as I killed Cersei. I am the one cause you have lost. You are going to have to deal with that, stop trying to use me to fix your own guilt."

Kevan dropped his son's arm as if he had suddenly had burned him. His men stood in front of him and waited for Dusten to leave first.



Polivar yawned, bored out of his fucking mind. He knew Sansa was deliberately trying to make him miserable. Everyday she dragged him through the shopping mall for hours and now he is waiting. She is in her room trying every damned thing on that she has bought. The door shut downstairs and Polivar grinned, knowing Brat's footsteps.

"Hey, what's up? Your sister is the most boring fucking human on earth." Polivar arched an eyebrow as Brat handed him her gun and dagger. "I'm going to go visit my older sister." As Arya produced the key she swiped, she entered Sansa's bedroom.

Grinning, Polivar dropped Brat's weapons and went to the door to watch. This might be interesting at least. Sansa had been bent over, brushing out her hair. A hard boot up her ass sent the redhead face-planting in the carpet. Laughing, Polivar called out, "Brat, don't kill her! No broken bones."

Sansa came up grabbing Arya's leg as it was kicking her in the stomach. "Oomph, Ar..ow..fuck, hey wait! Let me explain!" Grimly, Arya forced the girl off her and began to punch in earnest. "You bitch! You backstabbing fucking cunt! Do I look like fucking money to you? Huh? Just like our fucking parents and brothers! How could you?"

Sansa was trying to scuttle away behind the vanity and Arya let her go. "You have a debt, you pay it your fucking self! I was not yours to sell, not anyone's! I will NEVER forgive you. You are not my sister. You are nothing to me."

"Arya, don't say that. Listen to me for a second!"

Arya picked up Sansa's small stool and smashed it into the mirror on top of the vanity. "THAT IS NOT MY NAME!" Sansa pushed to her feet and staggered towards a lamp. Snatching it up and brandishing it, Sansa tried again. "Fine, Brat. Listen...there are benefits to this for you. It helped you as much as it did -"

She ducked as the stool came crashing just above her head.

"THE BENEFITS? YOU FUCKING SOLD ME! WHAT KIND OF BENEFITS DOES A SLAVE GET?" Brat roared and headed towards Sansa with the girl's own desk stapler. Polivar came out of his shock at all this and started forward. "No! Don't staple her, dammit!"

But Sansa threw her lamp and it knocked the stapler out of her sister's hand. "Listen! You are being way too dramatic over this! A slave, really? Jeyne-"

Polivar interrupted Sansa to point out, "Samara."

Sansa glared at him. "Thank you. Samara is a slave. Hotpie-"


Sansa threw her cell phone at Polivar as hard as she could. "Shut up! Fine! Yes! Piggy and Samara, they are slaves! You just got adopted, how bad is that?"

Brat seemed to slowly turn purple with rage, Polivar watched with fascination as Brat's scar actually seemed to to pulse with it. Her eyes opened so wide that Sansa had the insane urge to cup her hands to catch the orbs when they finally popped out. "I AM FORBIDDEN TO KILL YOU OR OUR FUCKING WHORE UNCLE BUT SO HELP ME, CROSS ME AGAIN...SEE WHAT HAPPENS."

She turned as if to leave then her lower half twisted and her boot seemed to plant itself into Sansa's cervix. With satisfaction, Brat watched her sister crumple down with a scream.    

Brat shoved past a stunned Polivar who had his jaw hanging. He stayed that way until Sansa managed to stagger over and slam the bedroom door in his face. 


Chapter Text

Gregor led his crew into the hallway and then into the room that held Loras Tyrell. The narrow, bony face peered up at them all and Loras whimpered at the hate on their faces.

With a cheerful sadism Gregor turned the lights on brightly so that Loras squinted and then he boomed, "Good news, Loras! Great news for you, you are going home to your grandmother. Isn't that lovely? Dusten has killed Cersei to pay for your sister's death and you get to leave alive. Unbroken."

Loras tried to stammer another pathetic apology, his favorite pastime and Gregor shushed him.

"We already have heard it. But before you leave, we want to make sure to give you something to remember us by. Have you ever heard of rectal hydration?" That was only the start of the fun, Gregor allowed them each to have a hand in every torture.

They waterboarded him, they fucked him with ginger root, Raff carefully inserted needles into Loras's toenails while Brat did the same with his fingernails.

As long as they kept themselves in check, Gregor allowed the group to exact their revenge upon Loras. Like any good leader he knew when to discipline and when to reward. There was a good chance they might have at least given objection to giving Loras up safely but they had stayed loyal and obedient.

Even Brat who was still so angry she won't even look at Gregor, she didn't do anything less than her job this week.

While they all waited for Dusten to return, they have all been jumpy, under strain. They felt something coming, they could taste it but they didn't know what it was. Gregor couldn't say anything until Dusten has completed his tasks and returned home.

He needed to let them reduce some steam before they killed each other or someone else.


Qyburn has become busier than ever this week.  He saw Sansa and gave her Valium plus painkillers. Then it was over to Gregor's training area to stitch up Brat. Gregor caned her until his stick broke for going inside to fight with Sansa.

The former doctor saw Polivar for a broken nose and Raff for a dislocated shoulder. They were making each other pay the bill since it was their fight that caused their injuries. The slaves were return customers throughout the tense week.

He saw the girl for a flayed ankle for not moving fast enough to suit Raff. Then he saw her two days later when Raff carried her in with a sprained knee. Due to her punishment for not going fast enough, the girl went too fast and fell down the stairs.

Qyburn barely got her out the door before the sobbing boy was brought in. The boy had overcooked the pasta for dinner so Polivar threw it at him, causing second degree burns on his shoulder and chest.

A few days and the boy was back with a concussion and three broken toes, the girl had brought him in. While she was there, Qyburn treated her for a fever and treated the infected ankle with antibiotic.

Gregor letting them all have their way with Loras seemed to help, but the pets remained wary and tense around their Masters. Even Waif has been finding it nearly difficult to please her Master. If this continues and it stops becoming fun, she will simply leave.


Dusten returned and was instantly given the skinny, pale and somehow haunted looking frail man. "Get this filth back to his grandmother and get your ass back here." He had been given long enough to shower and change clothing then he dragged the traitor to the car. Dusten warned Loras that if he spoke once he would break his jaw. It was a very long and silent trip. 

The drop off point was at the airport and Dusten followed the exact instructions. Loras had walked calmly forward until he reached the safety of Varys's arms. Then Dusten watched in horror as Tommen snuggled up to Varys as if they were lovers and refuse to leave.

A cell phone call to Gregor prompted more calls. Finally, Dusten watched as Tommen spoke with his grandfather on the phone. He told Tywin he loved Varys, that he was the only person that Tommen could trust. Dusten couldn't persuade the boy otherwise and could do nothing by force in such a public place. He watched as his hopes of not failing yet another thing fall to ashes.


Tywin stormed out of his office and headed downstairs. He nearly ran over Tyrion who was entering the house with Sansa. His son fell back into Sansa who was then steadied by Polivar who was behind her. They all watched as Tywin marched out the door and headed towards Gregor's office. Instantly forgetting what it was they were doing there in the first place, they all began to follow with curiosity.

It was quite rare for Tywin to deliberately wander towards Gregor's area and this raised all eyebrows. Sandor actually had to shove them all out of the way to keep up with the angry older man. Surely, Tywin wasn't about to go lecture Gregor in his own space was he? Sandor worried but followed, unable to do anything else. Raff and Brat had been sparring with Gregor giving scathing review when Tywin stormed up to the much larger man.

Turning in surprise, Gregor stared down at Tywin. "Sir? Is there an emergency?" Tywin stared up with utter disgust and barely concealed rage. When he spoke there was thunder in his voice. "Your man failed. He isn't bringing my grandson back! Tommen has been brainwashed by that damned pedophile. Cersei let her last living son get seduced by Varys. And your man is responsible for-"

Gregor took a step forward and cut Tywin off mid-sentence. He will never ever, no Sir, not EVER have this man or any boss dare to speak this way in front of his crew. 

"No. Dusten has killed his former lover and he suffered the disgust of his entire company over his stupidity. But if Varys has Tommen then it is not Dusten's fault. I have in my own damned files that Polivar alerted Cersei twice that Tommen was visiting Varys in his happy place. She did nothing, she told him it was fine that she knew Varys very well. So what else would you like to try and lay at my fucking doorstep, Sir? Or can we take this inside privately?"

Tyrion was holding tightly to Sansa's hand as they watched. The boys and Brat have formed a semi circle that was completed by the awkward married couple.

"Father, take comfort in this. Varys is not what you think. He doesn't molest children, he grooms them to be spies. They recieve hugs and cuddling if they seem to require it but he has never once touched one of them in a sexual way. I know, I go to drink with him enough, I have seen him do it. Back in the South mainly. Here I don't spend as much time with him, of course." 

Tywin wanted to end it, he wanted to icily suggest they go to his office. He did.


Gregor was nearly looming over him, he was glaring, fists clenched at his sides. Tywin had to resist an instant urge to leap up and bite through the large man's neck. Taking a deep breath, Tywin snapped out, "I think perhaps it is time for us to discuss changes we are going to implement and there will be a slight decrease in pay until I see changes!"

Sandor was now standing behind Tywin not to protect but to block him from leaving. Brat came forward at a small glance from Gregor. She stared icily at Tywin but had a hateful smirk on her face. Tywin couldn't believe the disrespect this girl was showing him. Polivar was on one side of Tywin and Raff was on the other. Sansa and Tyrion are hovering just behind the small circle.

"Are you going to allow your girl to be disrespectful to me?" Tywin asked stiffly as if no one was actually closing him in a trap. Gregor gave Brat a hard whack to her head and grumbled, "Knock it the fuck off or the next blow will be my fist." Rubbing her head, Brat whined out, "Yes Sir. I am sorry, Sir for being disrespectful to Mr. Lannister."

Gregor looked back at Tywin and decided he might as well finish it. "You are right, we are going to renegotiate but I don't think we are quite seeing eye to eye on it. I have implemented some changes within our small fucked up family."

With a sickening smile that was so fake it hurt to see, Gregor grabbed Brat and hauled her against his side.

"I am the new father of my adopted daughter, Arya Stark. Petyr never actually gave you the correct papers to be the girl's guardian. They looked believable enough for you and Ned. In reality, I was her guardian and now Petyr has pushed the adoption through. It cost a good amount of money for all the paperwork but luckily I got Arya for free. It was the best debt I have ever filled. You see, Ned and Cat left the house to Arya, their cars and everything in that house that Petyr hasn't already run of with. Also, she now owns three warehouses with her sister. Plus some considerable funds that I will of course use to give this poor creature all that she needs. We must think of the children after all. I have decided that it might be time for us to expand a little."

"You dare to try and take me on? You want to challenge me, Gregor?" Tywin's voice was steel and there was not an ounce of fear upon the man's face.

Gregor shook his head and frowned. "No, of course not. But you dragged us to this fucking forsaken place then treat us like an embarrassment that is necessary. We live in homes hiding behind your looming damned mansion. We have bent over backwards to please you and you are draining us dry. Then you try and pin all your faults on us? I want our relationship to change, Tywin. Before the end of week my crew will be living in that Stark stone mansion. And I think we need to sit down and renegotiate our terms."

With a small chuckle, Tywin looked up at Gregor with amusement.

"So you think that because you got Petyr to fix some papers for you, that means you are ready to be my equal partner? Because you gained a house and some money? You can negotiate with me all you would like, but I will never be anything but your employer. If you cannot handle that any longer than take your gang and go back to the South. Jaime can use your services."

For one second, Tywin thought he was going to die. Gregor had a fierce look upon his face and he wanted badly to kill this arrogant fuck.

Tyrion and Sansa stepped forward into the circle.

"Oh yes, I forgot to tell you father. Sansa and I are moving into the former Baratheon house as of tonight. At least for now, we might do a bit of traveling later on. But right now we are a very busy couple. You see, being Sansa's husband let's me have access to all her funds, regardless of your making her sign shit over. Petyr hid some of it for Sansa and now I am the proud co-owner of all of Stark's business ventures."

Sansa smiled gently at Tywin and her voice was soothing.

"Sir, Gregor and his men have worked for you with loyalty and honor. They deserve the small fortunes that the adoption has given them. Does it matter if they live one house over? He isn't quitting or trying to challenge you. They just want a little more comfort for their efforts. And Tyrion has an amazing head for business. We are looking forward to our first board meeting next week.Tywin glared at the girl who's face was sweet and calm but he saw something rippling just underneath.

"So it is all of you? Petyr must be kept very busy with this greedy circle you have created here. Fine then, move your gang into the Stark's home. I want to see you and the newly married couple in my office in one hour." Gregor nodded and Sandor as well as the others all moved away. Without another word, Tywin turned and walked stiffly back into his home. For the first time it seemed like he was quite old, older than he really is.

Chapter Text

Tywin briskly walked towards the hall that led to his large conference room. He stopped to see Gregor and every one of his crew standing before the open door.

"What is this? They cannot all enter this room, I will not have it! In all your years with me, I have never allowed any man but you into this room during a meeting." Tywin looked as if someone had taken a shit, a nice steaming large one, on his foot.

Gregor simply smirked in amusement.

He was wearing a soft silk, carefully tailored suit who was created by the small hands of the overworked children of a Dothraki orphanage for young girls. His shoes were made from real dragon scales and skin, poachers from the sands found this rare baby dragon, just hatched. A rare albino lizard that was considered almost extinct.

They let it grow in a large cage while they put a 24 hour cam on it and started the bidding online through the dark web. Gregor had sent a man to make sure the dragon was real then he began to bid aggressively. When he was the highest bidder, he had the baby dragon killed then the skin and scales were used to make his shoes. 

Waif had polished his head quickly before giving his nails a fast once over and then swiftly and deftly dressing him. Gregor knew he looked good and looked professional, but that didn't change his speech or actions.

"They aren't coming in the room. Not unless I text them because of an emergency. They are going to frisk everyone going into the room." Gregor rumbled and he stood somewhat threateningly, staring at Tywin. Luckily, their staring contest was broken by the arrival of Tyrion and Sansa.

"Oh my, it is everyone!" Sansa exclaimed, going into her polite lady act and Brat rolled her eyes then she gasped, grabbing Sandor's arm. He looked down at her and she fluttered her eyelids. Sandor tried hard not to laugh out loud. Sansa narrowed her eyes but then turned to hear Gregor.

"No one goes in until everyone is frisked for weapons. Starting with me." Gregor assumed the position and let Polivar remove his shoulder holster. He also lost the gun on his ankle and the one hidden in on his lower back. Three blades went away as well.

Tyrion went forward next and grumbled, "If you plan on checking my ass or groin I expect some kind words or a gentle kiss on my forehead." Raff smiled charmingly and then he knelt down. "Don't worry, I have gentle hands." He grinned wider as Tyrion shuddered. "Get it over with." He lost a small pistol on his ankle.

Tywin gave a great sigh before stepping forward and allowing Polivar to search him. He had a handgun and a knife. Sansa came forward and Raff grinned happily as he shoved Tyrion out of his way.

But suddenly Brat was standing in front of Sansa. "I will conduct this search, thanks." The two glared at each other for a moment then Gregor rumbled out. "Enough. Brat will search her." With a snarl, Raff moved away.

With a serious expression Arya searched her sister. Brat found nothing until she got to Sansa's head. "Hey! Don't touch my hair!" Sansa shrieked, as her sister committed the largest female sin possible.

Arya deftly put her fingers into the perfectly crafted pile of red curls upon that lovely head. Brat pulled out a long gold needle, with a very sharp point to it. "I am sure this was just decoration, but just in case, right?" Sansa snarled at her sister then ran to the hall mirror to repair the damage.




Tywin wondered if he were in a coma, maybe he had a heart attack and they saved him, but he is stuck in a coma. Yes, that makes more sense than this meeting.

Because even though he was at the head, the seat he always has had here, the rest looked horribly wrong. Insultingly wrong and he would like to wake from this nightmare now.

The other end of the table, equal to his own seat was his least favorite child. A disgusting, disfigured disappointment in every way. The boy doesn't understand that if he became a king, Tywin wouldn't approve.

Because Tywin is insulted and disappointed by Tyrion's very existence. If he truly wished to please his father, the boy would die.

Gregor sat on the chair in the middle on the right, Sansa on the left. Tywin is sickened and was compelled to speak.

"I cannot decide which I am more insulted by. Having to let a female or my hired enforcer sit at my conference table. At least my son is my blood, that at least makes his disgusting presence tolerable."

Tywin held his chin high and his hands were folded upon the table. But his chin quivered slightly with his indignation and his eyes were wet and frustrated.

He looked at Sansa with her delicately mostly fixed hairdo and her modest but business style dress. His eyes cast over Gregor's expensive suit and then pinned his eyes upon Tyrion.

His suit wasn't fashionable, it certainly couldn't have cost much. It was brown, it was dull and the tie was something that Tywin remembered his own father wearing. A pattern that belonged to a dead time era and really should have stayed dead.

To Tywin it was an insult. His father had a sense of humor, something that skipped Tywin and only seemed to hit his youngest child. Every time his father used humor, Tywin felt he was being teased, he felt it was degrading.

"You are not a child to wear pictures upon your tie. Also, that is a movie I remember my father watching. You couldn't even find something from your own time period? Always trying for a joke and failing, Tyrion."

Gregor shook his head and Sansa leaned forward before her husband could shut his gaping jaw. "Uh, excuse me? Star Wars has been remade. That isn't Darth Vader, that is Kylo Ren."

Tywin glared at Sansa, nearly bristling.

"Young lady, I know these things, my son was obsessed with all this crap most of his sad pitiful life.  My father enjoyed the same movies that passed down to Tyrion, just like that failed humor. Also, my granddaughter dressed to round table role play several times. I saw her dress as Darth Vader and take pictures of herself with a lightsaver!"

Tyrion started to speak then just stopped and sighed. "Let's just move on to the meeting, shall we?"


Sandor sat in a chair that threatened to break under his weight. Arya sat in the window embrasure. Both were playing on their cell phones. Polivar leaned against the wall near the meeting room door and Raff sat on the floor.

"So...Sandor? Does this mean you will treat Brat like a little sister? Is it incest then, that you've already fucked her?" Sandor glared at Polivar and Brat muttered, "Aannd here we go."

Polivar and Raff didn't let up on the jokes for at least a good thirty minutes. They heard a roar from inside the room and all went quiet, standing tense, waiting. It didn't happen again and it wasn't related to them. After that they all remained a bit more disciplined.

Stretching, Polivar asked, "Does anyone know how long this shit takes?" Snorting, Arya responded, "Oh, they will be in there all freaking day." Sandor yawned and groaned. "Joy. Let's go out drinking tonight. I need to get out of here for awhile. Clear my damned head of all this shit."

Polivar grinned. "Hey, that's a great idea. I mean that Wildling bar is still open and we have no reason to worry about being in there anymore. And Brat isn't on lock down anymore. We can sneak her in, get her a drink or two. Or we could go to the quarry if Brat is too scared to try a bar?"



Piggy was washing the inside of the stove when he heard the beeping. "Fuck. Samara! Can you read that for me? Poke me if it's an emergency, okay?" He heard her move and when she didn't come to touch him, he resumed scrubbing it out.

Samara was sharpening knives. That morning the crankiness of the men had reached a peak. Raff managed to find the one knife that didn't cut properly due to it's dullness. He threw his steak and eggs at Piggy then used the dull knife on Samara. Three shallow long cuts on her arm and the order to sharpen every knife in the kitchen.

Polivar came in to see that his own breakfast was late because Piggy was cleaning the steak and eggs off the oven door where they had splattered. Seven whacks with a belt later, Polivar ordered Piggy to scrub every bit of the oven and stove top today.

If they finish early then they are to scour the pots and pans as well.

After Piggy stood up, high from cleaning fumes in a tiny space and cramped beyond belief, he saw the text for himself. Polivar wrote not to cook for more than themselves today. They would not be back until very late. The slaves may go to bed at their normal time and will not be needed until morning.

Piggy and Samara grinned at each other. "Can you fucking believe it? We have a day off. A night off! I mean, yeah, we have to finish our chores first but's just us hanging out. We can make something unhealthy for dinner and watch movies until our eyes fall out!"

Giggling out loud, Samara nodded then her hands flew across her cuts. Piggy spoke her coded words out loud. "Yeah, that sounds awesome! Let's make pizza, our own pizzas with our own damned toppings for dinner."

A single tiny almost not there moment of fear and a feeling of warning hit the loyal and well trained pets but they ignored it. They went back to their work with renewed energy and cheerfulness.

Chapter Text

Waif watched Gregor, perplexed. She has never seen him like this not once, she never once saw him unsure. It was a fascinating process to watch the man convince himself of something. To watch how he built himself back up to feeling well.

When he entered the cottage after his meeting, which went on amazingly long, Gregor was tense. He didn't want his tea, his bubble bath, a spa, a massage. Waif was smart enough to keep her mouth shut after her initial offerings and he roared at her like a rabid bear.

Instead, she stayed near but out of his way, simply following in case he was in need of something. It had been a long and boring day on her own and though she did leave for awhile to stretch out, it wasn't very long.

Better to risk injury and follow him about rather than sit bored for longer. Gregor started with his weights and he drank from the water bottle Waif ran to bring without word to her. She padded about on silent bare feet, making sure she had both icy wet and steaming hot towels as well as fluffy dry ones for Gregor.

He chose what he wanted as he moved about the room. After using every machine to a level that would rip most normal men's muscles like snapped elastics, Gregor started floor exercises.

Waif thought of all those sessions she watched from the windows with Gregor's crew. She thought if they saw how hard Gregor was working out they would never again complain of how unfair he was to work them so hard. Compared to what this man was doing, those kids were just having a rough high school gym class.

Gregor showered under freezing cold water when he finally stopped. Waif brought his best bathrobe and Gregor put it on. Then he started to pace the house, no rhyme to it, fists clenching and relaxing.

Following along, Waif was almost surprised when Gregor suddenly stopped in front of a large wall mirror and started to laugh.

Her head snapped up, alarmed to see Gregor was laughing at her in the mirror. "Do you even know you are copying my movements, girl?"

Waif turned bright red and noticed she was walking exactly as Gregor was. It was a habit of her to take other folks' personalities. The problem of many actors and assassins. "Forgive me, Master." Gregor was staring at her as if trying to figure her out and Waif felt a tiny bit nervous.

"I was an actress. The habit is ingrained, I think. I will try not to do it again if it bothers you, Master. It comes out still when I am worried or upset. Something has upset you and it upsets me that anyone would distress you." Waif tried to keep her secrets while offering a truth.

She knew that she couldn't stay forever but it would be dangerous to let Gregor know what she really was. Best if she just disappeared one day. It makes Waif sad to think of it and didn't want it to end right now.

Gregor nodded, searching her face and eyes, seeing only honesty. He did note that there was a mystery to her, but Gregor hasn't patience for such things. As long as she pleases him, she can keep her secrets since they do not impact him or his family.

He doesn't have the sense that Waif is a cause of any impending dangers so why should Gregor care? "I do not mind it, it's cute. Do not do it in front of anyone else. And do not mimic anyone else."

Waif nodded in relief and Gregor started to walk again. This time the walk was slower and he seemed to be in more control now. "Waif, make me some of that new tea you found. I am glad that you are going with those two idiot twin dogs to the store and farm now. One is too stupid and the other is too timid to ask about exotic things, rare or unusual things, like this tea."

Waif brewed the tea and Gregor sat down, looking out the window.

"We move tomorrow over to the Starks house. It will be the Clegane house now. Well, more like a keep once I get in there. We will share the mansion with the whole crew but it is huge enough to barely run into each other. I am taking an entire wing of the house for myself. There will be a few servants, there is no way you, yappy and mute are going to be able to clean that entire monstrosity. Raff will see to the maids for the major upkeep. The chores for the three of you really won't change any. Just the location. The crew is pumped over our taking over a house, a fortune, half of a business and I own the girl. As long as I have Arya, I have everything left to her. And Brat is loyal to her family, her new family. She is mad that I didn't consult her, that her sister didn't ask her first but she is already getting over it."

Waif brought the tea and set it gently before her Master, as she knelt gracefully. He sipped at the tea and absentmindedly stroked her hair.

"Today I managed to do the impossible. I shocked Tywin Lannister and forced him to see us all as equals. He will retaliate, of course. Tywin won't simply go with the flow. The look on his face, he was insulted and angry. To have to see a woman and an employee as equal to himself? He just can't see that, he is too old, too stubborn to accept it. We have to be ready and I warned them. But Tyrion, for all his smarts and for all Sansa's cleverness, they don't see it. Tywin does not lose or settle, this is the first time that I have ever seen him lose and he is not going to stand for it. When he attacks, I may not have the support of Tyrion and Sansa, they might use me as the shield and the patsy if things go wrong. They will sacrifice me and my whole crew in a heartbeat to save themselves."

"I may have just killed us all if this goes sideways." Gregor's voice was heavy and now Waif understood the problem.

"They trust and love you, Master. For a very good reason. You are strong, smart and brutal. You have taught them how to keep safe, to survive anything. They know you would keep them safe and they will have your back. You are doing this not just for yourself but for your family to have a better life and future. That simply makes you a very good leader, Master."

Finishing his tea, Gregor gave a tiny nod then stared out the window again.  He sounded like himself again as he pulled himself straight in his chair and commanded, "Set up the massage oils." Waif gave a tiny relieved smile as she flew to set up her favorite oils.

Waif was humming to herself as she started to heat oils and then she noticed something. A tingle in her arm where the small chip was that allowed another killer within her network to be able to alert her to danger or impending needed information.

Checking fast to make sure Gregor was still in bathroom where he had just gone to, Waif ran to the small statue she bought. It sat on Gregor's mantle in the massage/spa area and he seems to like it. Inside of it held her tiny phone. Grabbing it, sliding it into her ear after she pressed a button. A calm, polite voice advised her that  she was being transferred to a scrambled line.

"Sorry to interrupt you on one of your little vacations. A hit just came down, a really fucking large one on your new boyfriend. Tywin Lannister is offering a damned fortune for the death of the Mountain."

Waif closed her eyes then said quietly, "Thank you, Jaq. Has anyone taken it yet?"

Snorting, Jaq grumbled, "Everyone wants it, those who are unable to do it alone are willing to team up.  Tywin probably will get the best ones, at least two. He really wants your man dead fast.  You should take off while you can. If you need me to extract you, I can be there tomorrow."

Waif leaned her forehead against the wall.

"I have to go, thank you." Waif disconnected and hid the phone fast with seconds to spare before Gregor came in ready for his massage. 

What the fuck am I doing?

Waif had no answer for that.


The entire bar looked up at the sight of the Mountain's men and noted the short girl with them, dressed and armed just like them. Every eye hardened upon the sight of the traitor, Arya Stark.

Styr was behind the bar carefully washing mugs and staring at them with dead eyes. "You aren't welcome here. Leave. There is a dump three miles down. It's perfect for you. Get the fuck out."

Polivar tilted his head and grinned widely as he acted confused.

"But..this is a bar, right? Like..with watered down cheap drinks, just like those you have right there. And..oh, old out of date jukebox, yep, oh, and look, customers, which means you are open. Unless you tend to lock your customers in at closing time? Oh, no, wait, you have posted hours. You don't close until two in the morning. don't really have a reason to keep us out. You are a bar. You are open. We are customers looking to drink. It's perfect!"

Styr gave a mirthless grin back and shrugged. "I can give you a legal reason if it helps you feel better about it. How about you are bringing a minor inside a bar? That is Arya Stark and she is fifteen or sixteen. So take your new whore and leave this establishment, gentlemen. Thanks!" He waved cheerily goodbye at them as everyone there laughed, sneering at the little traitor of the North.

The two surviving Stark sisters are hated as traitors. One marrying into the Lannister home at any cost, the other willingly becoming part of a crew that caused the death of so many northerners. Both of them never raising a hand to stop the slaughter of their own family. Arya never felt such hatred towards her before.

Sandor stood behind Brat with his large hand on her right shoulder. Polivar was on her left and he put his elbow on her head to rest as if being an annoying older brother. Raff stood to the right of Brat and smiled charmingly at Styr. His holster was open but his hands were not near it, yet. He was using them to gesture instead as he spoke.

"Surely you can break your strict Northern rules for once? Listen, tonight is actually her sixteenth birthday and she wanted to be with us to celebrate. She is just a little kid, come on, be a pal. Are you always this cruel and cold concerning the youth of the North?" Raff's hand hovered over his gun as two thin, ugly men stood to yell and point wildly.  

"Her birthday isn't for four months! She is only fifteen and too young to be in a bar. I know her age because my younger sisters would be forced to attend some wretched fucking party the Starks would throw for the girl. She would be a cunt to all the entire time. That traitorous cunt isn't old enough to be in this bar. So take your fucking whore and leave. That is what you are, girl! A fucking WHORE! Do you let them all fuck you, Arya?"  

Before Raff could respond to the men, a bullet whizzed past his shoulder and lodged in the wood next to one yelling man's head. That shut both up fast. Now anyone who had a gun had one out.

"My name is Brat. And my last name is Clegane. The Starks are dead.I am no whore, Little Walder! Luthor sit the fuck down, or I swear I will shoot you in your fucking crotch. How dare you complain? You only lost one of your folk, a fat girl you all hated and taunted till the day the poor thing died! And you both are rapists, probably stemming from having a father that is a child molester. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! Even if I was their whore, it is still more noble than raping poor drunk college girls. Hey, which one of you has to suck the judge's cock after your daddy fixes things for you?"

Sandor clapped a hand over Brat's mouth as the men were yelling in rage and all guns were searching her out. "Okay, shut up now. Points were made, shut up before you get us all killed." Sandor grumbled into Arya's ear. In between her own "brothers" she could see the angry, condemning faces. Ross, Little Walder, his brother Luthor and she saw other Northerners she knew only by their faces. All were united against her.

As soon as Sandor released her mouth she spoke softly, just for her own men to hear. "I'll leave, they will probably let you stay if I go. They have good reason to despise me. My being here will just antagonize them." Raff and Polivar had their guns out and pointed as well. Loudly, Raff replied, "No, Brat, we are going to stay right here. If they feel antagonized or offended by your presence, well, as Gregor would say, they need to pull up their big boy pants and deal with it."

In spite of all the pointed guns, they slowly moved as a group into a booth. Brat and Raff had the wall, Sandor nearly squished Brat as he sat. He was large enough that no one could get a shot past him to Arya. Polivar sat next to Raff and he beckoned cheerfully towards Ros. "Are you the waitress, honey? You kind of look like one. Because, we are sitting here and are awfully thirsty and in need of service."

After a tense standoff, Styr finally gave a sharp resentful nod to Ross. "Not worth it. These fucks aren't even worth the bullet. Everyone put your guns away and next round is on the house for all Northerners. And since Arya Stark is a minor, she is not being served any alcohol."

Polivar smiled brightly, "Well, now. That is a reasonable rule we can agree with. See? We can all be civil."

The bar was quiet as all the men put their weapons away and stared resentfully at the booth while drinking. Sandor saw the look on Polivar's face, the same face from the quarry and he groaned as the waitress approached. Sullenly, with a silence that spoke loudly to Arya, Ross approached. Both were quiet, both passed a look and something in it made the men all look uneasy.

It was a strange dark thing, a woman thing that men cannot understand. Because men do not usually need to worry about certain things as much. But two females, both caught in a room with many dangerous men. The dark look was one that came with a deadly promise. Sandor wished Polivar had never taunted Brat into agreeing to come to this bar.

It was going to end badly, he knew it and so did everyone here.

Chapter Text

Piggy and Samara were laughing, smiling and have not been this relaxed since they can remember. Before this home, the world has gone hazy, as if it was a whole other person, not them. Both just accept this and try not to think of anything before the Barracks. It is much safer and makes things easier to only think of now.

They were going to simply and complete enjoy this extremely rare gift. After the chores were completed, faster than usual, they prepared their pizzas. Samara's had five types of cheese and a lot of it.

Piggy's had a handful of the mixed cheeses from Samara's creation and he added pepperoni. Piggy slid them carefully into the oven and then stood up with a wicked grin. "I say, we pick two movies, we have enough time for it. And...munchies to go with it perhaps?"

Samara trembled a little and shook her head fast. Her fingers flew on her cuts and she contorted a little, making painful clicking noises in her bones and cartilage.

"What do you mean no? Oh, come on, Samara! No, they won't fucking notice! I am careful and I have a small stash of my own. We won't touch anything of theirs, I promise! I'll get the snacks and you can pick the movies. I put a pile together already of ones that we will enjoy. Go through them and pick two, stop worrying!" 

The girl peeked at him through her hair and then folded herself to the floor before turning to crawl towards the living room. Awkward strange crab like movements caused Samara to look like her namesake and the gruesome clicking sound only made it worse.

"And, oh geez...that fucking clicking is getting worse! You need to tell Raff that the dislocations are getting worse. He might just pop them in with no fuss at all. I know you are afraid to bother him about it, but you are clicking. And you look like a fucking vengeful Asian ghost between the hair in your face and the strange contortions to move around. A pony tail and letting Raff know that you keep getting these dislocations, would end this ghost shit. Before Dusten goes apeshit." Piggy grumbled as he watched her leave the room.

Samara stopped and her hands fluttered across cuts on her leg and Piggy sucked in his breath. She went into the living room to go through the movies while Piggy went to get the snacks. Piggy indeed grabbed some of the snacks from the back of the cabinet.

He made sure none of them were something that was Raff's. He tried to forget the disturbing comment her pale fingers spelled out for him.

"Good. Let them fear me."


The pets were enjoying snacks, mainly devouring coconut chocolate cookies, Dusten's favorite. They watched I Spit On Your Grave, cheering on the girl fiercely.

At the same time, Dusten was getting pulled over for a broken taillight on a stolen car. His fake I.D. and the license plate he kept on him for such a thing saved him. However, it threw him off his time and then a rumble hit his stomach.

While Samara and Piggy ate their pizzas and threw on House On The Left since they had time for it, Dusten was desperately trying to reach a restroom. He was dancing as he begged an impassive gas station attendant for the key to the bathroom.

"Oh yeah, like there is a boy and his buddy..they took the key like maybe a few minutes ago. But they will be back, right, so just hang tight, yeah?"

Dusten left and ran to the restroom. There was only one and he could hear the two idiots giggling in there. They were getting stoned and he was going to shit his pants!

He kicked the door hard. "I have a fucking gun and I will shoot through this door if you don't get the fuck out right now. I need that bathroom! Move it you, fucking stoners!" Dusten was seconds from filling his pants and he pulled his gun and cocked it. "I am counting to three then I shoot."

One boy opened the door and stared blearily with red eyes as smoke started to billow out. In disgust, Dusten yanked the boy out of the bathroom and threw him. He pointed his gun at the boy still in there and then tossed him out when the boy remained frozen in fear.

Dusten just made it and held the dirty metal walls as his body violently protested the earlier lunch from a nameless taco stand. Hazy smoke clung to him and made him stoned.

Now he was going to drive slightly impaired, well hell, if that was the case...his night was already sucking even worse then his suck-worthy past week. Might as well end it with a little reward, at least to help him ignore the chills and cramps. Enough to help Dusten forget Cersei's face and his father's voice.

So as his body emptied out his waste, Dusten snorted another kind of shit up his nose. He rarely took coke but this was going to be a bad one, so he brought some. It helped him kill Cersei and stand up to his father. When he returns, as always, Dusten will put it away and not touch the rest for quite some time. Until another bad crisis hits.

Piggy has turned on the music as their second movie ended and they were dancing like silly idiots. Well, at least Piggy was. Samara was able to move a bit to the music but she both physically and mentally couldn't just stand and dance. But she was enjoying it fully, loving the music and laughing at Piggy's antics.

He showed Samara the games he was able to find on the ancient laptop and they played them for awhile, under the table.  They each got a hot cup of coffee and then returned to the living room. In a teasing mood, Piggy grabbed a movie and put it on, grinning.

Once it started and Samara saw what it was, she screamed and punched Piggy's arm playfully, but hard. This ensued a pillow fight all over the living room. They were careful not to make any mess.

Dusten managed to drive almost all the way back before having to stop again. Now he was starving and had to eat. He bought twenty dollars worth of fast food and gobbled it down. It was seven miles later that his stomach reminded him that it wasn't fucking interested in his food intake.

Another gas attendant, luckily this one already had a key. Opening the bathroom door, Dusten nearly cried at the sight of it. His bowels didn't care and cockroaches busily scuttled across his shoes as he emptied himself a second time. He sobbed dryly and then remembered something and started to laugh instead as a terrible smell grew around him.

"Its just like you, Dusten. It is your way of punishing yourself when you sin. Anytime you commit a shameful act, you get ill to your stomach. It is how you know you have done something wrong. Atone and it will go away." His father's voice was soft but insistent in his head. He screamed, "SHUT UP!" The voice stopped and so did his bowels.

One tire blew as he just turned onto the Winterfell area and he felt no cramping, so he breathed slowly. Getting out, Dusten calmly fixed the tire. Anything to keep that fucking voice out of his head. The calmer he remains, the less sick he feels, the less his father's loathsome voice can worm its way inside his head.

Samara and Piggy decided to put on their versions of pajamas that they have simply made for themselves out of clothes no one wanted and old sheets. Orange wide pants that were clearly never meant to be what they are now. Piggy looked like a genie in them and Samara laughed. He wore an old sweatshirt of Gregor's that is permanently stained with blood and paint. He painted over it and it looks like a child drew a mountain and then added a bright sun.

Piggy snorted and chuckled at Samara. She was wearing a long white nightgown made from old sheets. They had been white with small blue spaceships on them. Clearly a joke gift that no one cared for anymore.

"I bet in the dark, you'll look just like the girl from The Ring. You sort of already do. Let's see...come here!" Giggling, Samara followed as Piggy shut off the lights and turned back on the film. He rewound it to the part of the girl climbing out of the well but then accidentally went too far back. "Ah, shit. Oh well, I'll just let it run from here."

Samara ran her fingers along Piggy's arm in the dark as the little boy on the screen did the best acting of his little life.

Sighing, Piggy said, "Yeah, I am thirsty too. Let's get more lemonade then we can compare you to the girl. By then it should be that part. You already do look creepy in the dark. You can't see those spaceships, just the white dress. You had to make it floor length? Well, no. I am covered up too. Sorry, didn't think of it. Even though Tickler is dead, I still can't help but hide myself when I sleep. If I could wear more to bed, I would. I know you would to. Hell, Raff would NEVER let you wear that nightgown."

Dusten stared and just wanted to cry, or maybe set the fucking car on fire. It was out of gas. He had only fixed the tire when the damned thing died. He was hoping to coast the last bit of the way to the old garage they used only a block away. Nope. Sighing, he grabbed anything of his own and abandoned the stolen car and walked home. Running his hands through his hair, Dusten was ready to just sleep and forget the horrible fucking day.   

He quickly typed the code and entered a house that was dark. Except for the flickering of blue from the living room to his left, the murmur of a show playing. Creepy music that sent chills up his spine. With his bowels beginning to cramp again, Dusten warily moved towards the living room. Must be the guys half asleep just staring at the tv but it was so quiet. Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Dusten lunged into the living room then nearly shit himself.

On the screen of the television was that fucking Samara, the movie one climbing out of the fucking well and heading for him. Staggering backwards, Dusten then spun and ran for the kitchen. He knew the house well in the dark luckily otherwise he never would have managed to take the quick turn into the kitchen. Not at the speed he was going. Which is why when he tried to stop while screaming his head off at the sudden sight before him, he slid and fell on his ass.

Samara had been standing there, just like the tv girl and the two have blended now. Dusten had his gun out and she flung herself to the ground and out of his sight. Piggy was standing close by and he had his hands out, palms up beseechingly. "Dusten! It is just us! Just Samara and Piggy! Please! Don't shoot us!"

Dusten stood up shakily as Piggy flicked the lights on. "What the fuck are you doing? I could have fucking KILLED HER AND YOU!" He was still panting and suppressed tears were clogging his throat as he screamed at them.

The girl has crawled under the table nearby and warily seem to watch him even though he could not see her face. He pointed at Samara angrily. "What the fuck are you wearing that for? Since when does Raff let you wear that shit? Where is he? Do your masters know what the fuck you are doing? Huh?" Samara stayed still and silent but Piggy moved slightly closer to answer.

"They are out late tonight celebrating something. We were given the night off. We were watching movies with the lights off. We came to get soda and we made these pajamas out of the laundry room. We are very sorry to scare you, Dusten."

Dusten might have just strapped them, he might have even just called their masters to bitch or just gone to bed. He might have. Then he felt it. In the shock of fear, his bowels gave up the fight and released down his legs. He knew that from Samara's angle she could probably see it. And that is when he snapped. 

He threw the table out of his way and landed on her, punching and screaming. "No! Please! Stop! Don't!" Piggy was screaming and hopping about them. Dusten didn't care, the slave wouldn't dare to attack him. The girl wouldn't fucking beg him though, she remained silent so he decided to fix that. "I will make you speak or I will fucking kill you! I am sick of the fucking nightmares you are giving me, YOU CUNT! I HATE YOU!"

Grabbing her by the hair, Dusten started to drag her towards the back door. He saw Piggy grab the little tinkered to shit phone that just let Piggy give and receive texts to Polivar. Growling he shoved Samara hard into the wall to stun her then dropped her to the floor. Piggy saw him heading for him and true to his nature, surrendered. He dropped the phone and kicked it towards Dusten. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Dusten pointed at him the crooked his finger. "You will come too or I swear when I finish with her, you'll be next. And if you thought Tickler was scary, fucking try me. I'm not into boys, but I will stick this gun up your ass when I shoot you. Now are you going to be a good Piggy and survive tonight?"

Piggy nodded frantically even as he started to cry. "Please don't kill her, please? She can't help not talking! Raff made her that way, don't you see that?" Samara has started to crawl dizzily, trying to get away and Dusten lunged for her again. "You want to live, cunt? Then fucking SPEAK! No? Fine, let's fucking play."

Piggy stumbled after them. Dusten ripped the backdoor open and by her hair, he dragged Samara fast down the steps. She screamed and cried but produced no words. He began to head out of the yard and headed past the shed and past every bit of Lannister land as Piggy followed. He crossed the dirt road and headed into the woods.

Dusten came to a bog and stopped, panting, stumbling to lean against a tree. Piggy tried to touch his shoulder, pleading still and received a backhand for his efforts. Samara was growling, Dusten couldn't believe it, the bitch was growling as if to defend her friend.

"You fucking little bitch, you dare? Oh my GODS! How are you not DEAD? No, course not, because they don't see what you really don't mind showing it to me do you? I will fucking make sure that you will be one feral cunt that will be tamed! You will speak or you will die, your choice."

He kicked her several times then dragged her to stick her head in the water. Holding her head down, he ripped down his pants as she struggled. Yanking her up to let her take a few ragged, choking breaths, Dusten threatened, "SPEAK! Beg me not to drown you while I rape you." Samara tried to catch her breath then shook her head. In a rage, he slammed her head back into the water and pulled up her nightgown. Piggy sobbed and pleaded as Dusten slammed himself inside the drowning girl.

After a few thrusts he yanked up her head again, Samara expelled water and vomit. She heaved and coughed while Dusten raped her. "Speak! I swear to the Gods, I'll kill you." Piggy came closer and shut his eyes, pleading with her now. "Samara, just speak! Raff won't be mad at you for saving your life! One word, just even say please! Anything! Samara, he's going to kill you!"

Piggy was hysterical as Dusten smashed her head down through the water again. This time as he was thrusting, Dusten didn't pull her head back up. He was almost there, if she was still alive after he came he will ask her to speak one last time. If she doesn't he will slit her throat. Her struggles were lessening and this somehow turned him on more. Dusten started to strain into her and fill her when an amazing pain lanced across the back of his head.

As soon as Dusten fell forward, Piggy shoved him over. He pulled Samara out and started to press upon her until water gushed. She coughed and heaved for a few minutes. Then he helped her to her feet and they looked at Dusten. "Oh gods, when he wakes up, he'll kill us both. We have to run back to the barracks and use the laptop to reach Polivar fast."

Samara shook her head and pulled away from Piggy. She grabbed a large boulder and fell to her knees. Piggy whispered, " don't." But it was a weak protest and he knew as well as she did, that if they just told...Dusten would be beaten by the Masters then it would be forgotten. Someday Dusten will get her, get him. Piggy watched as Samara began to beat Dusten's head in. Afterwards, they stared at each other. Now what do they do? How the fuck do they hide this?

Her fingers flew and Piggy turned pale but then he seemed to think on it. They stared at each other with angry eyes that no one else could ever see. Then two bitter smiles formed and they got to work.

Chapter Text

Ros nearly slammed the pitcher of beer down onto the table. Polivar grinned up at her and said, "Thanks, but we three want an unopened bottle of beer. The girl wants a bottle of coke. Leave them with their lids on. We don't want anything you could have spit in or fucked with. You really should have asked us what we wanted first. That's okay, you still haven't lost your tip. Three bottles of beer and one soda, please, honey."

Raff smirked as the woman stared down at Polivar and icily spoke as if she were the Queen of the North. "I am not your honey. My name is Ross. I'll be back with your order." She picked up the tray and started to leave as Polivar quickly leaned forward to grab at her ass. Moving out of the way just in time, Ross snarled at him, "Don't ever touch me." Quickly she went to the bar and whispered to Styr as she set the bottles onto the tray with a bottle opener.

Sandor sighed and shook his head. "One drink then I'm taking off and Brat is going with me. She doesn't need to see where this is gonna go." Polivar opened his eyes wide innocently and Raff shrugged. "I don't know what you mean. Hey, look. Fucking Freys are all leaving, oh, there goes a...what are they?" Brat narrowed her eyes as she watched the men all stare at her with disgust and hate as they left the bar. "Mormont and Tully."

The bar was nearly deserted now except for a few dedicated drinkers that want nothing to do with the drama. They do not look up or react to anything out of their glass. Ross slammed down the tray again and passed out the bottles silently. She bit her lip when Polivar started to compliment her cleavage but then he tried to touch her thigh. "Do not touch me, you fucking asshole!" Ross was holding the tray as if to hit him with it.

Raff spoke softly but with great menace. "I wouldn't strike any of us if I were you. Think of Kyra and Jeyne." Ross lowered the tray and backed off but she spit out, "I do think of them. All the time and my other friends that you've killed too. I think of those poor girls a hell of a lot more than you do." Polivar barked out laughter and kicked Raff under the table companionably. "Hear that? She thinks about Jeyne even more than you do!"

Raff grinned at Ross and drawled out, "Feisty waitress, I think you are under the impression that Jeyne is dead." Ross widened her eyes. "She is alive? Where is she?"

Polivar laughed. "You thought she was hunted like Kyra maybe? Gregor and Roose gave her to Raff here as a little present. He owns her and well, she isn't much like you'd remember. And her name is Samara now. All because she kept trying to stab Raff with a fork. So I really wish you would hit me with that tray. What do you think would happen to you for it?"  

Backing away slowly, Ross muttered, "I didn't hit you with anything. Just don't fucking touch me and we won't have any problems." Polivar just smiled at her until she went behind the counter.

Arya rolled her eyes and asked, "Is there ever a time when you go out and NOT harass everyone around you?" Polivar seemed to think on this, furrowing his brow, even looking over at Raff and Sandor. "I don't think least whenever I am not with Gregor. You guys ever remember me not bullying someone?"

Both men shook their heads and drank their beer. Brat drank her soda and grimaced. "If you are going to be shitheads in here tonight then I think I deserve a real fucking drink, don't you?" Sandor grumbled but gave over his beer when Brat kept pouting at him. "Fine, here. If you get caught by Gregor, I didn't have anything to do with it, hear me?" Brat agreed and chugged the bottle fast before Styr could catch her with the beer.

Polivar and Raff chugged theirs then too after Polivar said brightly, "Perfect idea, Brat! Drink it fast so we can call her back quicker!" Brat glared as the men both began to cheerfully call to Ross for more beer. Styr started to put them on a tray while Ross sat down a lit a smoke. "No. We want the waitress to bring our drinks." Called Polivar with steel in his voice. His hand hovered over his gun as he stared at Styr.

"You folks are going to learn that the old ways are gone. The old money that ran this place is gone. We are here now and we could burn this place the fuck down. This place could suddenly have zoning issues or could be reported for infestation issues that could suddenly occur. So many bad things could happen. can just accept the new blood and things will go very smoothly for you. Now, the waitress needs to do her fucking job and bring us our drinks."

Styr seemed to think about it for a moment then he turned and went behind the bar. Ross stood up, crushing her smoke and carried the tray over. Ross slammed it down, handed out the drinks with a bitter expression as fast as she could. Polivar moved fast as Ross gave Raff his drink and this time he put his hand fully on her ass cheek and squeezed. Ross didn't even think, it was a knee jerk reaction from being a waitress around drunks for so long.

Her hand cracked against Polivar's face hard as she tried to back away. Arya and Sandor groaned as one as Polivar's face got that still look. Raff was smiling and Ross paled. "I'm was a reaction...instinct." Everyone was still and then no one was. Ross screamed as Polivar lunged for her with Raff right behind him. Styr came up from behind the bar with a double barrel shot gun while Sandor and Arya came up with their own guns. One huge boom and a hole blew through the wall behind them as Styr went down with a hole in his forehead.

Sandor stood there making sure none of the other patrons had an issue with the drama. Brat frowned, her shot had gone wide. She was trapped by Sandor's bulk in the booth, Brat went to climb over the table. That is when Polivar and Raff slammed the screaming, fighting girl down onto the table. Brat barely had time to leap back onto the seat.

"Oh come on, you're kidding, right? Sandor, fucking MOVE, I don't want to see this!"

Sandor has not felt particularly charitable towards his former lover and new sister. A quick grin of bright malice as he lightly said, "Sorry, I have to make sure no one sneaks up on us. You aren't squirmish, are you? Thought you could handle being one of us, well, here you go. Us at the ultimate. Enjoy."

Arya tried to close her eyes, to not listen but it didn't, couldn't work. The entire table was pounding and Polivar was grunting, taunting Ross as she screamed and begged for him to stop. Raff's knuckles rapped into the table near Arya as he was holding Ross down for his friend. He'll take a turn next. Will Sandor, just to spite her?

Ross. This is a girl that Arya Stark didn't know very well but she knew her. This was a girl who went out with Jon for a few years, had done a huge science project at school with Sansa that they worked on in the house.

Now here was Ross up on the table, half naked being brutally raped in public. The look in Ross's eyes towards Arya was the same as the eyes of every Northerner, bitter and angry.

When Arya was little and Ross came by for Jon or Sansa, she was nice, would give the little girl candy or gum. Maybe crack a joke or two while waiting in the lobby. Due to her social status, Cat would not allow her to enter past the lobby without an escort. Ross had been nice then, so long ago.

Her scream was suddenly piercing and both Polivar and Raff laughed cruelly at whatever new pain they have caused her.

Brat moved so fast she was hardly aware of her own actions until it was being done. Her blade slid through Ross's neck like butter and Polivar was suddenly sprayed with blood, choking on it. His mouth had been open with laughter and he was leaning directly over her. Raff got sprayed as well. The mean laughter turned to gagged curses and surprised shouts. "What the fuck, bitch? Why? Why would you do that? Worst fucking prank ever!" Sandor started to laugh as Brat just gave Raff and Polivar calm eyes.

"Her screaming hurt my ears. Besides, I'm just having some fun partying. After all, Polivar you taught me how to party, remember?" Brat stared at Polivar and Raff then slid out of the booth. "Next time don't rape someone that fucking close to me, yeah?" Polivar swung at her and she easily side stepped the angry man covered in blood. With his pants down, he couldn't exactly chase her. Grinning, Brat turned to look at the few remaining quiet drunks. "Find a new bar. Now."

They might have been drunk but they were not stupid. Staggering, only one muttering, they left in a hurry. Arya began to shoot the liquor bottles behind the counter. Sandor did nothing to stop her and the other two ran to the men's room to wash the blood off their faces. Polivar couldn't get the taste out of his mouth. When they came back out of the bathroom the bar was on fire. "Oh, fuck me! I needed another fucking drink, cunt!" Hollered Polivar but Brat just giggled as she left the bar. Sandor shook his head and said, "We created a fucking little monster."

The fire department showed moments after they left but the bar was burnt to the ground.

Chapter Text

Tyrion disconnected and kicked a chair over angrily.

Sansa looked up from the television and sipped her tea. "My sister told me earlier that she was going drinking with boys tonight." He ran his hand through his hair and said, "Is this her first fire or has she been setting them for years?"

Laughing, Sansa replied, "No, she started fights not fires. A tomboy was embarrassing but tolerable. If Arya was lighting fires my parents would have tossed her into the nearest institution until she was cured."

"My father must be gleefully dancing that it was indeed your sister and Gregor's men that did this. Or wait, I should learn how to say that correctly now. So many fucking changes. It was confirmed, it was caught on the phone of a drunk that is now disposed of. Arya and Sandor Clegane as well as Gregor's two men were seen and filmed setting the bar on fire. That was after they were seen and filmed inside the bar. Where Raff and Polivar were raping a waitress that Arya cut the throat of. Sandor shot the bartender in the head. The waitress was a pretty woman named Ross. The bartender's name was Styr. Did you know them?"

Sansa's hand tightened on her teacup and she nodded slowly. "Yes. I knew Ross better than I knew Styr, but I did know them. They were good simple folks." Tyrion sat down next to Sansa but his face was very grim as he stared into the fire. "I sent Bronn out as soon as the fire started and I was told of it." He took Sansa's warm hand after she set down her teacup and she looked at him attentively. "What is it, Tyrion? What else has happened?"

"I had to order the death of three drunks tonight simply because of that sociopath little girl and those fucking apes. My father is fucking dancing, Sansa! This shit has to end if we are going to stay on top! We have to speak with Gregor about this, it can't happen again! We need them to keep control of the town, not destroy it! We can't be blindly arrogant and assume we will win in the end! That is what killed your family and the Boltons. I am a Lannister, I won't go down like that. I hate ordering death, Sansa. Arya might be your sister but I can't allow her to do this again, I won't keep killing for her."

Sansa nodded and patted Tyrion's hand. "We can go speak with Gregor and I will personally talk to my sister if you'd like?"


The whole way to the Barracks they bitched at Brat. "Now we have to fucking drink at home. Can't be seen out just in case." Raff bitched as he took the next turn way too fast. "Stupid cunt, next time warn me!" Grumbled Sandor as he accidentally smashed Brat into the car door during the wild turn. Polivar was whining loathsomely from the passenger seat. He was curled up and going between glaring at Raff then Brat.

"Thanks to you, bitch, I have fucking blue balls now. You should either blow me or convince Raff to let me use his pet. I won't hurt her, hell, you can be right there for all I care!" Polivar looked ready to cry. Brat shoved at Sandor. "Get the fuck off me! You are crushing me, asshole!" Once Brat could breathe again, she narrowed her eyes at Polivar. "If you ever try to shove your cock in my mouth I'll remember how much I loved raw hot dogs as a child and bite down hard."

Raff laughed and then shook his head when Polivar gave him a beseeching look. "Forget it. Samara hasn't been bad today, why would I punish her by letting YOU have her?" Polivar started to invite them all to go fuck themselves when Raff nearly got them killed. A car was half in the street just before the cul de sac and Raff had to fishtail not to hit it. He got out after and stormed over to the car. "Who the FUCK left this here? I'm going to disembowel them so slowly."

Polivar took the time to text Piggy while Raff was busy raging at them empty car. He hoped the boy was still awake or woke up hearing the sound of the incoming text. A dark house without snacks set up and someone to serve drinks just sets off a bad vibe to start with. Luckily seconds later he received a response. "Yes, I was still awake. So is Samara. We will have food and drink ready for you, Master." \

Grinning, Polivar yelled to Raff. "Give it the fuck up. If it bothers you that much, call a tow truck. Looks like a stolen car abandoned. No license plate. Let's go home, yeah? I texted, pets are up and are setting up some munchies and drinks. Come on."


Entering the Barracks, the warm air assaulted their nostrils and dragged them all forward.Piggy was standing at the stove.

Samara had been at the counter working on something in a pan when they entered. Immediately, the girl dropped to all fours and crawled to Raff's boot to kiss it in submissive greeting. Brat was getting used to this by now and simply skirted on by. Though she did have a tiny shiver at the girl, not due to her strange look or movements but at the new attitude.

Last time it was all just fear and the need to obey and avoid pain. That was still there, apparent in her trembling groveling. But Samara moved and acted as if she were truly a dedicated, affectionate pet and Brat had a feeling it wasn't an act. Brat looked over at Piggy who gave her a friendly but distant grin.

"Hey there, you have lost more weight, gained more muscle. Seems to happen every time I see you." Brat settled on the counter to have a conversation with Piggy while he cooked. To her surprise, Piggy has changed a bit too. The second Polivar sat down, Piggy flew. He left the stove and brought Polivar a beer.

Hard liquor has already been set out as well as Polivar's black box. Brat raised her eyebrows when Polivar gave Piggy a quick jerk of his head. Piggy went to the black box, the one Polivar is so protective of considering it's contents. Piggy quickly punched in the code as well as turned a small key he produced to open it.

The boy seemed to know exactly what to pull out of the box and then he locked the box again. After the drinks and drugs were passed about, Piggy came back to the stove. "Uh, shouldn't you be with your friends, Brat? I really am busy with cooking right now."

After serving her Master a scotch with water, Samara was released to help Piggy in serving food. Brat awkwardly left Piggy and went to sit with the men. "You can sit in my lap." Polivar offered as Brat started to search about for an extra chair. Smiling kindly, Brat invited Polivar to perform an impossible task upon himself.

"Find her a fucking chair." Polivar snapped and Piggy ran to the other room. He carried the desk chair out and set it down for Brat. She thanked Piggy as she sat down. Piggy nodded and smiled at her. "You're welcome, Brat." His face was jolly but there was a distance there now that Brat knew will never change.

Piggy had four different covered pots simmering and the oven was baking casserole dishes that are being lovingly created and cared for by Samara. Polivar looked over at it all then at Piggy. "What the hell did you both do when we left? Instead of resting, watching tv, actually enjoying your time did this? You decided to have a cook off or something?"

Piggy and even Samara under her hair both looked abashed at themselves.

"Samara wouldn't watch tv or play computer games because she didn't have express permission. It was no fun all alone doing that stuff so I chose something we could both do. And it sort of got carried away...we made stew, meat pies and pulled pork for sandwiches. The stew is ready and the rest we will freeze for later meals."

Polivar stared at Piggy for a moment, something was off, something was wrong and he sensed it. "Piggy, you are a shitty liar, you remember I told you that before, dear? Huh?"

Both were frozen and Piggy nearly whispered, "I am not lying to you, Master."

Polivar crooked a finger and beckoned Piggy closer. "You had the energy to cook all these different things half into the night? It's past midnight and the two of you are cooking like you have to feed an army. You are worked fairly hard and by now you would be asleep. Most nights if I drag you up this late for something, you are a stumbling wreck. But you seem fresh as a daisy."

Polivar reached out as Piggy reached him and pulled the boy down by his hair.

"Let me see your eyes, right now. Did you go into my box and get out a little party powder for you and Samara? Is that it, got a little more energy than you thought you would so you cooked it off? Tell your Master, Piggy." But his pet's eyes were as sober as could be. "No Master! I would NEVER! I swear it, Master!" Piggy seemed quite sincere and firm on that.

Polivar's eyes narrowed further. "You are working off guilt, aren't you? What did you do, pet? Might as well confess it now."

Piggy swallowed hard and tears came into his eyes.

"I...I had a cigarette. I tried to shower and gargle to hide it, Master. Samara didn't smoke, she tried to stop me and now she is scared for me. That is why we stayed up and cooked. I'm sorry, Master."

Polivar stared into his pet's eyes for a moment then he backhanded Piggy to the floor. "After I eat, I am going to make you squeal for smoking. Get up and serve the food, Piggy." Shaking his head in disgust, he watched as his pet staggered up. "Yes Master. Sorry, Master."

A huge bowl of stew was set lovingly before Raff. Samara was slightly bold as she knelt there. She dared to very timidly run her face along Raff's thigh and rest her cheek reverently upon it.

To her surprise, he allowed it, his hand came to caress her hair and two fingers slid under her chin to rub there. With a small whimper of delight, Samara leaned into her favorite form of petting and reward. She lay her head on his thigh and watched him eat the stew with bright eyes.

Each of them dug into the stew as Piggy put a bowl of thick homemade bread on the table to sop up the thick broth.

"Piggy, I think this is one of the best things I have ever eaten." Brat said as she asked for seconds. With true joy, Piggy gave them each at least one more bowl and watched them devour it as he continued to cook the other meat laden meals.

Raff lifted his girl's chin. "You have been such a good girl. Up." Samara climbed into Raff's lap to snuggle against him meekly and gratefully.

"Here, have some." He scooped up a large spoonful of stew. Raff was on his third bowl and getting full. Piggy watched as Samara opened her mouth and eagerly took the spoonful. She chewed slowly and gave a faint moan of delight. "Good, isn't it?" Samara nodded and her Master spoon fed her the rest of the bowl of stew.

It really was the best most tender meat in a stew she has ever had. Polivar's mood towards Piggy has been sweetened by the delicious food. "Get yourself some stew and sit on the floor to eat it." Polivar commanded and Piggy eagerly tried his own creation. It was as good as the others said.

Piggy and Samara stared at each other from their positions and wondered if they just gained a new type of food or if they were just damned.


The towing company had not only been called by Raff but by the security guards that roam the area. A tow truck showed up and a tired man leaped out and headed for the car. He checked it out first as he always does, in case there is someone to be reached. At least that is what he tells himself and others when he does it.

Of course what he is really doing is hoping to find drugs, money, alcohol, CD's, anything he can take. The trunk was open and Thoros peeked in, hoping for something interesting.

After groaning, "Oh fuck no." Thoros ran to his truck, boldly labeled "Brothers Towing."



An hour later, Tywin Lannister called his brother Kevan. He tried very hard to sound sad and somber, he NEEDED Kevan on his side.

"Yes, Tywin?"

Harold and Bob watched with increasing concern as Kevan turned pale then tears began to spill. After he hung up with his brother, Kevan slowly stood up. His pious red rimmed eyes looked upwards and then he fell to his knees.

"They killed my son. My boy...I wanted to save him, I almost had him but they corrupted him. Dusten's head was found in an abandoned car. He was alone, defenseless, the only one working. While the others were drinking and partying, my son was alone and was murdered. They...don't know where the rest of him is...only my son's poor head."

Harold and Bob cried beneath their sunglasses. They cried for the lost boy they remember before the others got hold of him. They mainly cried for their suffering leader. He should not have to know such pain not a man as good as him.

"I want vengeance. I want to find who killed my son. They will pay. So will the rest." Kevan dismissed his men to their families and he spent the night in his chapel thinking of his boy. And thinking of those who made Lancel turn against his father.


Chapter Text

Raff and Polivar both had the beginnings of hangovers which the pets rushed to fix. Painkillers, juice, massaging temples. Samara and Piggy gave each other a sympathetic, shared fears glance then flew to get whatever their Masters needed. Whenever they have pain, it is almost a rule that the pets will have twice the pain.

So far Piggy has received a very hard hit with Polliver's boot. As he entered the room his Master threw it with great force and it hit Piggy in the face. As the pet grabbed his bloody nose, his Master accused him of waltzing through the world before finally deciding to move his ass to obey an order to show up. Apologizing, Piggy tried to staunch the blood with his sleeve as he came forward. "You fucking idiot! You are bleeding on me, I'll fucking KILL you!"

Samara knew how Raff would awaken and she prepared. After some time they were all drunk and the pets were forgotten. Both curled under the table while they all joked around and laughed at each other. Above, Brat ended up in an argument with them all over something. Piggy and Samara stared at each other as they slowly put the story together.

Brat killed Ross, Sandor killed Styr, these were people they knew. Jeyne went to school with Ross. She had sleepovers with her and they went to each others parties. They hung out a lot after she started to see Damon. Tears pricked her eyes and Samara was surprised. It didn't seem possible that she would cry for anyone but her Master.

Hotpie had known Ross because she lived near him. Always so nice and ready to listen to him babble at her, Piggy felt a burst of anger at Arya. How could she? Samara leaned her head back and listened further. Then she nodded and her fingers flew for her friend to read. Piggy's eyes followed the pale fingers, two half flayed ones and his eyes narrowed.

He didn't dare use words even though they were all thundering loud above them like angry gods.

Piggy used her scars as Samara does so if she cannot see it under the dark table, she can feel it. "She felt bad about a rape so fixed it by killing her? Makes no sense." With a snarl of frustration Jeyne's fingers flew across her leg and those cuts. She winced as she traced a newer still tender one. "It does make sense. To her. I know her. It is how she thinks. Impulse." Sighing, Piggy decided not to argue it.

"Who cares? Masters are getting drunk. Hangover time coming. They will get in trouble for what they did at the bar. We will suffer. I want them to eat Dusten casserole for dinner tomorrow night. If I am in traction, put it in the oven on 350 degrees." Samara silently laughed and shoved her friend. However, when Piggy started to doze, Samara got to work. She knew everything Raff would demand for a hangover and she was going to be prepared.

Hand towels were ready as were bowls to be filled with hot water. Three pitchers of juice were ready and chilled in the fridge and clean cups already set out. Tylenol and Advil were on the nightstand as well as a pitcher of water full of ice cubes so it will still be cold when Raff wakens. The coffeemaker was set and Samara even remembered to snatch up the bottle of antacids. Carefully, Samara set the alarm to go off on a doze for fifteen extra minutes.

She can use the extra time to set everything up for her Master. For once, she was going to avoid the usual shitstorm. Except five hours after Sandor and Brat staggered back to the Lannisters and the boys went to bed, Gregor texted them. Polivar read the text aloud then swore while screaming for Piggy. "Be in the training rooms in twenty minutes."

Raff had read the text and sighed, hanging his head. Samara had woken as soon as her Master had and she was timidly curling closer to him, but cringing lower at her own daring. Her eyes rolled up and she gave the tiniest whimper. Raff didn't move but he did whisper. "Permission to speak. Do it very softly." Making her voice even quieter than his, Samara spoke. "May I get you some Tylenol or Advil, Master? I can put a hot towel on your head and get you some juice. And massage your temples."

"That would be nice, but fucking Gregor has decided that sleep isn't important anymore. I really hope this is an emergency and not just a fucking sadistic game. Samara, that shit isn't strong enough! Didn't you fucking hear me, I said that Gregor expects us in twenty minutes! Do you think I can deal with Gregor and my very strenuous fucking exercise before working all day on five hours sleep! What the fuck do you think I need? Get painkillers from Polliver now! I thought you were a clever pet!"

Before Samara left to get painkillers, Raff gave her a new bruise. Sobbing, Samara called herself stupid all the way to the kitchen. Piggy was pouring juice as she came in and ran her fingers. "Oh, okay. I'll ask him, come with me. Polliver is in a bad mood, took some of his own pills. I hope they will kick in before I get back up there but I don't think I will be that lucky."

When Samara entered the bedroom, hiding behind Piggy, Polliver was in a better frame of mind.  Piggy spoke for Samara and Polivar gave her a small handful of pills. With the order to tell Raff that payment was due on Friday. Her hand twitched as she leaned closer towards Piggy. Then he leaned over then nodded. "Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir." Piggy said for her and Polliver rolled his eyes. "Go away." Samara fled and gave her Master his pills.

The slaves got their Masters clothing out and helped them put it on. They gave them juice, water and wilted under the verbal abuse. However, whatever the Masters took not only helped their pain but their attitudes lightened. Raff rubbed his fingers under Samara's chin as he got her attention from making sure his sneakers were tied properly.

"Go get coffee ready for me. Good girl." She leaned into the touch and reveled in it, she reveled in the smooth voice calling her good girl. As if it was swelling and would burst, Samara stared up at her Master, pleadingly. "You rarely ask to speak this much. Go on, speak." Samara flinched under the warning tone. Speaking at all was a great privilege that her Master can remove whenever he wishes. It is a great gift and should not be abused.

Samara stayed very low and made sure her voice was respectful and submissive. But she had to, it had to come out even if it terrified her and a part of her was screaming. "Master, sorry, Master. Please forgive me for using my voice this much. But I had to..tell you..please..." Samara lost her courage and wilted lower, sobbing in fear.

Raff was floating and wasn't going to be late so he smiled patiently. "Hush. I'm not angry with you. Stop crying and tell me what it is." Samara nodded gratefully and tried again. It all came out as if the very words hurt to say and he could see the vulnerable fear upon her face. "I love you, Master. I want to love you." She ducked her head fast, cowering and missed the smirk of triumph on Raff's face. "Come here, Samara."

He kept his voice neutral as the girl inched her way to him. "Good girl. I am so pleased with you for telling me. You are my favorite pet, none of those other slaves could ever please me like you do. I love my favorite little pet." Gasping in relief and delight, Samara trembled and cried harder, clinging to her beloved Master. Raff grinned and took a moment to kiss and feel up his toy before heading out. "Get my coffee, Samara."

Raff laughed when he heard a thud then Piggy whine as Polivar yelled then he appeared. Half disheveled but ready enough, only propelled by painkillers, Polliver staggered forth. After a few tries he was able to navigate the stairs and throw himself into a chair. "Fuck, I was too tired to take two of those fucking pills. Piggy, hurry up with that coffee or I'll skin you!" Polliver started to paw through his black box for something to pep him up.

Piggy and Samara had an actual altercation when both hit the coffee at the same time. "He'll skin me, get out of my way!" Piggy seethed and Samara shook her head. As if Raff would not hurt her twice as bad as that for making him wait for his coffee? She made sure that her hair covered her face from Raff as she mouthed "fuck you!" before trying to shove past him. Gasping in outrage, Piggy tried to block her way and Samara growled deeply at him, crouching a bit. This was no fucking joke, she needed, NEEDED to get Raff's coffee.

Polivar and Raff were both watching this in fascination, trying not to laugh out loud. It was like watching two dogs fighting over a bone. When Samara growled, Raff raised his brows and grinned but Polliver started to look nervous. He still remembered what Damon looked like and how she stood there holding that gun. "If she hurts my Piggy, I get to hurt her." Raff glared at him. "I would compensate you for it and I would punish her myself."

Piggy turned and bared his teeth at her and stuck his face in hers. Samara didn't give an inch, if anything she seemed to suddenly get taller, bigger. Her growl got louder and deeper but Piggy snarled in her face, "Fuck off, cunt. My Master wants his coffee, you and yours can fucking wait." Raff knew Samara's body language and he suddenly snapped out, "No. Do not attack. Good girl. Polliver, did you hear your rude little bitch?"

Polliver was looking at Piggy with hard, glittering eyes and the boy whined, cringing lower. "Master, I'm sorry. I just wanted to obey you and get your coffee. She was trying to-" A hard smack to his head and then another to his face shut him up fast except for cries of pain. "I don't give a fuck what games you and the little ghost girl play. I don't give a fuck if you two wrestle across the house all day for dominance. What I care about is you being rude to your betters. Saying that Raff can just fucking wait is rude, isn't it? Hey! Isn't it? Huh?"

Piggy sobbed and nodded with defeat. "Yes Master, I'm sorry for it. I am very sorry I was rude. Please." Another whack to his aching head and then Polliver's clipped voice. "Go to your knees before Raff and apologize to him. Now." Piggy nearly ran to kneel before Raff, looking only at the ground. "I am very sorry for being rude, Sir." With a sharp, insincere smile Raff responded, "I forgive you, Piggy." Piggy glared at Samara as she passed him with Raff's coffee.

Kevan ordered an eight thousand dollar box for his son's head. With Harold and Bob at his side, Kevan headed back to the hated North. Tywin offered to send Dusten's remains but Kevan said he would come collect his son's head himself. "I will collect more than my son's head." He confided to Harold and Bob.


Gregor stood motionless as they began to file in. All of them with bags under reddened eyes. He said nothing until the door was shut and all of them were in a pitiful wavering line.

"I was merciful. I could have called you here last night but I figured you were too drunk still. Now that you are all awake and aware of the world again, I have some news. While you were all out raising hell that we will very much be discussing later on, your brother Dusten was not only murdered, he was decapitated. His head was found in an abandoned car with no license plate just down the road from here. We cannot locate his body. While you were all having your fun, I was trying to find out who would want to kill Dusten."

Polliver shook his head slightly. "Dusten is dead, Sir? Someone removed his head?" He seemed to have some trouble with this. Raff looked sick. Sandor was red with shame and Brat felt guilt weigh upon her. "Any clues who did it, Sir?" Asked Raff.

Gregor looked grimmer. "Not yet. But I will fucking find out and they will pay." He pinned each of them with a look of disgust as he slowly began to pace before them. Gregor's hands were clasped behind his back.

"I heard you guys had some real fun last night. Celebrating our newfound power base. I understand that. I do. Really." Gregor looked earnestly at each of them, nodding for emphasis. Then he furrowed his brow and looked confused.

"Here is what I am having some trouble with. You celebrated our power over this town by burning one of it's oldest bars. You murdered two long standing, popular residents. Now this doesn't matter to the upper classes, but it will anger the townsfolk. The working class and those who can't even manage to hold a job can hold a fucking grudge. We can't have the folks rioting because we are pushing them too far. I don't need rabid dogs! I need fucking professionals!"

Gregor pinned Polliver with his eyes. "You. Couldn't keep your fucking dick in your pants? You can't go out for a drink without raping someone? You can't attend a party without killing someone and now you can't drink unless you rape someone? Perhaps you need to stop partying and drinking, Polliver." His voice was calm but Gregor's hand on Polliver's throat slowly lifting him into the air told a different story.

"I am going to make you pay for it. The whole thing was started because of your cock. I gave true thought to castrating you, boy." Polliver began to faint and Gregor dropped him. Taking large breaths in a high pitched whooping sound, Polliver was desperately trying to beg Gregor not to castrate him. "Shut the fuck up!" Gregor kicked Polliver and the man went quiet instantly. "You will have another punishment instead. But if this ever happens again, I will rip it off myself!"

Walking away from the collapsed man that was now sobbing in relief, Gregor went for Raff.

For one second, it looked like the handsome, arrogant sadist would bolt but he didn't. Then it looked more like he wanted to kneel and grovel as Gregor descended upon him. "And what the fuck happened with you? I thought I GAVE you a fuck toy? Is she already that boring? Your cock was so interested that you couldn't notice that Brat was there? It didn't occur what might happen if you raped a girl in front of her. I don't mean to startle you or anything, but in case you can't tell, BRAT IS A FUCKING FEMALE! They don't take well to anyone raping other females."

Raff was bent nearly in half as he was leaning backwards as Gregor leaned upon him. A fine sheen of spittle was all over Raff's fine boned features and he was only thankful he wasn't being snapped in half. "I mean, how stupid can you be? So you can enjoy a nice bit of my special hydration process. I am very disappointed in you, Raff. You were doing so well there for a while. Really breaks my heart to see you fall so low." Gregor stood up straight up and ignored Raff's stunned, hurt face. It was filling red with shame and guilt. Gregor was right and Raff knew it.

Sandor refused to cower even as his brother loomed over him. "I had to shoot Styr in the head, Sir. He was about to put a hole in your shiny new daughter. Would you rather I just let him kill her? And we had to burn the bar down after two murders occurred in it." Gregor didn't seem to care for those excuses nor the disrespect. At least that seems to be why Gregor punched his brother in face hard enough to knock him down. Gregor rotated his shoulders then calmly knelt beside his brother. He cradled Sandor's head as his brother choked on his own blood.

"Sweet stupid brother. Jealousy looks so stupid on you, you really need to get the fuck over it. You'll find another bit of tail soon enough. And her dynasty brings us ours, so what is the problem in that? You need to grow the fuck up, boy. You were pouting and therefore you let Brat be in a situation you knew she couldn't handle. So you are going to suffer along with your comrades. Except you will each have your own unique punishments. That is why I wanted you all to show early, so we would have plenty of time for your punishments."

Gregor got a water bottle that was sitting by his desk. He brought it to Polliver. "Drink it, you look too pale. I will be pissed if you faint, so fucking drink it. All of it." Polliver took the bottle with shaking hands and began to sip the water.

Gregor walked over to Brat who got smaller and smaller as he approached. "You need to learn restraint and patience. You need to learn social skills. Funny, I would have thought Cat and Ned would have taught that shit. Then again, you are a spoiled fucking brat like all Stark children. So since the boys were doing something you didn't like, you broke their toy so they couldn't have any fun at all. A childish reaction and deserves a child's punishment. So let's start with you. Daddy's little Princess was being a naughty, mean little girl. Let's take care of that."

Sandor, Pollivar and even Raff winced as Gregor mercilessly spanked Brat's bared bottom with his large, heavy hand. Her ass was black and blue and her voice was hoarse from screaming before he stopped. "You'll be eating your meals standing for a month or so. I hope that helps you remember that your new daddy doesn't put up with spoiled little shits. Now go stand back in line, Arya." In spite of the hideous pain in her backside, Brat was floored by the name. How could she have fallen so low to warrant her old name to be used?

Slinking back to her place, gritting her teeth as she tried to pull her jogging pants into place, Brat kept her eyes down.

Gregor grabbed Raff next and yanked him over to a hook hanging from the ceiling. Raff moaned but didn't dare to do anything but comply and allow Gregor to cuff his wrists and allow the chain between them to hang off the hook. He feet barely touched the ground and Raff felt stretched out painfully already. "You decided to just..what? Enjoy a little rape with your buddies? Didn't even attempt to allow your mind to think about consequences. Well, I hope acting like a horny fucking teen was worth it because I am going treat you like one. A child gets a spanking. What should a teen get?"

The answer was a ruthless strapping with a thick belt. Gregor had yanked Raff's pants down to his ankles and then set to work. With good cheer and whistling a jaunty tune, the giant whipped the leather across Raff's ass and thighs, sweeping down to his calves before going back up again. When Raff could no longer scream, Gregor stopped and released him. Raff struggled to pull up his sweatpants then he shambled painfully to stand back in line.

Gregor beckoned to Sandor and when his brother reluctantly walked over, Gregor smiled. "You are acting like a jealous fucking whore and you KNOW how I feel about that. So I can't do to you what I do to jealous whores, but I can make it feel like I am." Gregor whipped his brother's back and ass until both were criss cross with bloody lines. Sandor roared in pain at the last few lashes. He was next for the shame shamble back to his place.

"Polliver, I saved you for the last because as I said, this is a special punishment for you."

Chapter Text

Tywin walked into his plush office and waited for his secretary to bring him his coffee and the days roster of events. He was typing away on his computer when she finally entered, setting down his coffee.

"You have an emergency ten o'clock meeting about an absorption of companies into Lannister Corporations. It is being disputed by uh..your son and daughter in law. And..Mr. Clegane..the security guard?"

She had nearly shrieked as she read that out loud. In all her years working for Mr. Lannister, never has she seen such a thing. Why would Tywin's son and bodyguard be working against him?

"Forgive me, Sir.If you need me I shall be at my desk." In quick embarrassed movements, Helen put down the items in her hands for Tywin to go through and sign later, then she fled the room.

Shutting his eyes for patience, Tywin wondered when the hits would be completed.


Tyrion was at one company while Sansa was at another.

Sansa was armed with Petyr and Tyrion was armed with his own intelligence and shrewdness. They had fired half the top staff, any and all of Tywin's cronies, all those in his pocket in the lower sections as well. 

This earned some favor from those that suffered under Tywin's men. Policies were instantly changed.

Sansa stood before all the employees that were summoned to the main conference room.

"For now on, there will be a full two month paid maternity leave for any woman here, whether full time or part time. We will offer a nursing area in this office building for all women to use as well as a daycare center. All employees may make use of this daycare center. Human Resources is going to be creating new rules and setting new standards. Any harassment of any kind will not be tolerated anymore. If you are full time, you will recieve the correct pay as well as full benefits. If you are part time, you will not be given thirty nine hours a week any longer. We shall have everyone's shifts looked at, pay and benefits adjustments will be made, some of you may even switch to jobs more suited to your talents. Even if you are part time, we will have a smaller benefits package for you. This is no longer a place of dreary overlords beating down their slaves. It is a company full of talented employees that can enjoy their work knowing they are actually valued."

Sansa won all the woman and all of the employees below her. However, many were left that hated Tywin but were set in their ways or too protective of their own status that still opposed her silently. Petyr watched them with narrowed eyes and knew that Sansa's hold here was not secure yet.

He made sure that Polliver was right near Sansa at all times. The guard was doing his job even if he did look pale and tired, haunted somehow.


Tyrion used laughter, similar fair laws within his talk to the employees of the company he took charge of. Having Sandor looming just behind him made them all a little uneasy.

"Well, someone had to throw those old fucks out of here and as you can tell, it would have taken me some time to get them out. So far down to drag them, you know?" This made them all clap and cheer. "This large man who is scowling at you to scare you half to death is Sandor. He is not here to hurt anyone that isn't trying to hurt me or anyone else." 

"Take a look at me. Do I look like I am going to tolerate harassment, unfair or bias treatment? I don't care if you are male, female, gay, straight, transgender, religious, into ghosts or write blogs on alien conspiracy theories. I don't care what race you are, if you are a pregnant, married, single, adopted, widowed, I do not care as long you do your job. Everything here is going to be tossed and new rules are coming in their place. It will be fair. I expect there will be many promotions, raises, demotions and openings for hire by the time we are finished changing things. Some of you are terrified of this change, I understand and appreciate that. I want you to know if you are too set in your ways, maybe you should leave now and save us the trouble. We shall be modern, we shall be a place of growth and opportunity for our employees, not just the clients."

Tyrion had everyone but the ones who were indeed set in their ways and Sandor kept his eye on them.


Gregor entered each warehouse along with Raff and Brat. His take over of the warehouses were not quite done as nicely nor as neatly. However, the results did come out the same.

Brat beat the shit out of one overseer that was making an extremely pregnant young woman lift heavy sacks. The woman had also been denied the use of the bathroom as well as no lunch or break. 

Gregor was truly appalled at how bad the conditions were for the workers. He gave the same speech in each warehouse to the same scared groups of workers.

"Everyone throw out your urine bottles and diapers. No more of this shit. Today I threw out the most corrupt here. Tomorrow we go through the rest of you. I don't care what you speak, where or how you live. I only care if you do your job, if you could do another job better. We are fixing conditions for you in here. Better ventilation, fair rights for everyone. Reasonable shifts and benefits. If you need the bathroom, use it. If you have been working four hours or more...take a break or a lunch. By tomorrow we will have new rules listed on the walls for you. We can put one in your break don't have one?" The employees all shrugged or just stared at him, deadpan.

"Well, who has work that can fucking wait? Anyone who does can take apart those two offices there. Yeah, already kicked those two fuckers out. Take those two offices and make a break room out of it. You can build it yourselves, right? Or do you need me to call in fancy folks to tell YOU want YOU want? Seems to me like you guys have had to swallow enough of that bullshit. So what do you say?"

With a cheer, the employees set to work on creating their own rest area. The pregnant lady was the first one to start breaking the office walls down with joy.  


Piggy, Samara and Waif were covered in sweat, they packed and moved things into the former Stark mansion.

The Masters usually take out on their pets whatever punishments they received during their morning exercise meeting with Gregor. Not today, instead they each came in pale and troubled. They showered and changed for work. Both in casual business suits, they quietly ate breakfast, drank their coffee. Both moved stiffly as if they were in pain and both of them were rummaging in the black box.

"You will spend the day packing and moving everything you can to the Stark home. We will take care of the really heavy furniture ourselves, but I expect you two to get as much done as you can." Raff ordered and both pets nodded. Piggy gave his Master a worried glance but Polliver continued to play with his food.

"Gregor's slave will be packing and moving his stuff. You will run into her. If you need assistance with lifting something, you can ask her. Her name is Waif. If she asks you for help, you will of course, help her. Understand? And no biting, fighting and growling at each other. We don't have time for that shit today. Gregor wants everyone moved in two days."

So the pets have been hard at work. First they packed the entire house, starting with their own Masters' rooms. Once everything was boxed, they began to carry the boxes to the mansion. There they met Waif. One look into her eyes had Piggy and Samara backing up. "You aren't a slave. Your eyes..they aren't the same..oh gods, don't kill us. If you are a double agent or something..we don't know anything. Really!"

Waif was utterly amused and fascinated with Piggy and Samara. It took her a good half hour to get Piggy to not jump when she went by him. Samara did not seem to fear her, she was more curious and perhaps even jealous. They were all sitting for a fast lunch in the yard.

"How are you able to look and be such a perfect slave?" Piggy asked. "Sorry, its not me asking, I don't care. But Samara does. She wants to know."

With a sympathetic look at Samara, Waif replied. "It's a talent of mine. I'm afraid I cannot teach another. It is my nature to have perfection in my acting. You my dear, you do the best you can and it seems to please your Master. If you were suddenly acting like me, don't you think that would disturb rather than please your Master? After all, he chose you, not me. He must like the way you already act now." Samara thought on this and then nodded. 

They did not speak again until it was late afternoon.

"Are you here to kill our Masters?" Waif looked over at Piggy and Samara with a small laugh. "No. I already had my kill done a while back. I just like Gregor, I guess it was kind of a vacation for me." The two stared at her as if Waif had just tap danced for them then blew up into a million pieces of candy corn.

" are a slave because it is fun? A vacation? You can leave anytime and you don't?" Piggy asked incredulously. Waif shrugged then went back to work, ignoring the two staring at her as if she were crazy.


Loras sobbed as his grandmother's rings cut through the tender flesh of his face. It was rare for Olenna to hit anyone. Even rarer for her to hit a pretty face.

"Disgraceful, disgusting, what kind of brother are you? You were supposed to protect and care for your sister! Margeary loved you, there was no one in the world more important to her than you! Even I did not matter as much as you did! And look at you! Look what you have done! She died because of you and that cunt Sansa! You should have been warning Margeary, you should have BEEN THERE TO SEE IT COMING! That is what you two were good at, remember? You are lucky I rescued you at all."

Loras remained on his knees holding his bleeding face as Olenna let a servant wash the blood off her hand. She waved them away, ordering tea and Olenna leaned back in her chair. Staring down at her shattered grandson, Olenna shared a glance with Varys. With a heavy sigh, Olenna rested on hand upon Loras's head. Breaking down into heartbroken sobs, Loras began to beg for forgiveness.

"You will go to a rehab of my choosing. You will regain sobriety and sanity. Then you will marry a person of my choosing and you will take a career path of my choosing. It is clear that the only thing keeping you alive at all was your sister. I will not fail her memory by allowing you to ruin your life."

Loras nodded and crumpled down at Olenna's feet like he and his sister did as children. "Margeary told Sansa the eye drops story weeks ago. She told me of it when she got home that night. Sansa framed Margeary and they all knew it. All of them, you could see it in their eyes."

Olenna blinked, feeling a slight burning in her eyes and patted Loras's head.

"I know dear. It was convenient for them. They needed Sansa still, but they didn't need Margeary, she was expendable. But Cersei, she believed it because if she thought for a second it was Joff's little fiance, she would have ripped her ginger head off and flung it across the room. That makes me angriest. Cersei only killed my darling girl because she believed Sansa and Tywin. They are to blame both of them. And I promise you that they will pay, Loras. But you are not going to be a part of it. No dear, you have a plane to catch. You are going to a very special rehab in Braavos."

Varys had put the request out for a hit on both Tywin and Sansa Lannister last night upon Olenna's order.

Chapter Text

Tommen gasped as Varys's tongue flicked gently along his nipples. "Are you sure you are ready for more than what we've done? I want to let you decide and be in control of your own body."

A small smile and eyes fluttered with sensations as Tommen breathed, "I want to try everything. I'll tell you if it scares or hurts me, Varys. Just please, don't stop now. I hate it when you stop and ask if I want to keep going. We can make a safe word, maybe? That way you don't need to worry about it?"

Varys looked surprised then admiring. "See, that is what I mean. Using your brain to keep yourself safe. Perfect, a safe word. Let's pick something you would never say. That way if you say no, or stop I will know you just want me to convince you but if you say the word I know to stop right away. What word do you want to use, Tommen?"

Pleased with himself for learning another lesson for Varys, always find a way to keep yourself safe. "Uh...a word I would never use? Exterminate." With a chuckle, squeezing the boy, Varys said, "That is a perfect word. Dr. Who won't mind but the Daleks might."

He made sure he kept up with all the things these kids like. From sports, to music, movies, games, Varys can always know enough to have a conversation about it. Varys was firm in his oath to never hurt or kill his children.

Very few, just a rare few has he allowed himself to groom in a sexual manner. But some of them just seemed to almost beg for it. Children that are meek and do not understand the power and wealth they hold, that there families hold. Varys teaches them a different way, that is all really. 

Craster's eight girls were such a temptation. He knew the terrible things that sick excuse for a father did to them. Picture and videos on the internet! A cam that allows the viewer to watch him abuse the girls. Craster's first wife was only thirteen with permission from her parents who needed Craster's money more than their pretty little daughter. When she died after the fifth babe, he married her little sister.

That wife was only twelve with parental permission. She gave him another two children. He forced his wives to participate sometimes, to hold a squirming girl down or to perform sexual acts with them or Craster. Her second child was a boy and Craster forced her to put it up for adoption. The next day after that the wife watched as Craster began to molest their eight month year old daughter and she snapped.

That night she took her baby in her arms, all swaddled and leaped from the third story window.

Craster married his dead wives cousin six months later. She was eleven and half. It took her two years before she gave him more girls. As the daughters got old enough, he bred them. The man also sold some of his girls off to his friends as wives. Other girls he simply rented out for pleasure.

Some of his daughters wandered into Varys's sanctuary for children. Most simply did as the others did and gave information for rewards and the use of a safe place.

One of those girls she was so fragile and had such large puppy dog trusting eyes. A girl that screamed prey. Kind of like how Tommen always looks. Varys couldn't help himself as the girl kept hanging about him whenever he was around. She responded well to his touch, snuggling into his lap.

The more he told her kind things, the more he built her confidence the further the girl would beg to go. He taught her how to hide from her father, how to evade him. He taught her to have self esteem and use her body for her own pleasure as well as a weapon.

For about six months Varys taught and played with the girl. One night she was laying spread out naked on the bed with Vary's fingers jack hammering inside her while his tongue flickered on her clit. Moaning and squirming, the girl nearly missed the expressionless girl in the doorway of Varys's private apartment.

"Varys! Someone is here!" She yelled as she tried to pull away. Instantly, Varys allowed her to leave his hands even though he never said a safe word. Varys looked up and smiled.

"Don't panic, sweetheart. It is a friend of mine. Listen, we discussed getting you away from your father, remember? As much as I love your touch, your friendship and your whispers, we need to free you from your father. You have a rebellious streak in you and I don't want to see your father blow it out forever."

Sadly, Varys had stroked a finger gently over a large bruise on the girl's cheek. "No nine year old girl should go through what you have. I cannot save all your sisters or your mother but I can save you. Offer you something safer, better, dear."

"Listen, lovely little girl. This friend of mine is very safe and nice. She can offer you a safe place to live and teach you how to use your whole self as a weapon. I will visit you when I can. You are going to grow up pretty and deadly. No one will ever hurt you again, you will do the hurting."

The girl hugged Varys and cried but she took the lady's hand. Anything was better than her father. Varys cried a little after the girl left, but he knew his sacrifice was worth it. That girl deserved to have a brighter future than fucking and breeding for her father.

And Gods know, A Waif's Home will teach her everything that girl needs. Someday, she will go and kill her own father. On the surface to the world it is a charity home for anyone up to the age nineteen. To those on the inside of bad things, it also a very high priced brothel. However it is a rather unique one.

The younger children may be watched as they perform acts upon themselves, each other or one of the staff, but it is up to the child to choose. They can be watched behind glass or directly in front of the clients. Again, their choice.

The older ones may choose to service a client if they wish and only as they want to. They are being taught to use their bodies as a dominant, seductive thing. They are taught while the client is so distracted by the boy or girl's body and talents, they are now soft and weak.

Extracting information, stealing things, these are expected of the children during training.

The children do actually attend a small school with three teachers so they can all get their G.E.D. at eighteen. They also have field trips and free time to play so the social world is happy to give more money and sometimes it gets some of the kids adopted.

However, when the doors are locked the huge gym turns a little different. The children are not there for sports. They are there to learn to fight, to defend themselves and hurt or kill others. They are taught to shoot, to stab, to sneak, stalk and kill.

Varys had breathed a sigh of relief when he gave his little girl prize to the Home. It was exactly what the girl needed.

Now Varys licks his way down Tommen's naked body, trying to determine what this boy needed.

Chapter Text

Sansa sat across from Gregor as they waited for Tywin and Tyrion to show up. The receptionist gave them each coffee then left shutting the door behind her.

As Sansa sipped her coffee and watched him, her mind cast to years back when she first met Gregor Clegane. Grinning, she looked at him and he raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Do you you remember when we first met?" Gregor rolled his eyes and smirked at her. "Yes, dear. I do and I remember exactly what you said. Go on and get the I told you so over with. But just remember everything I said back to you."  Sansa rolled her eyes now. "I was right, wasn't I? I showed you that I meant it, didn't I?"

Gregor shook his head and looked at her with a mix of pity and respect. 

"I think you are fucking crazy, that is what I fucking think of you. To let Joff do that shit to you...did you really act the whole time? Or are you human enough to have really felt the fear of losing your mind, if not your life? But you were right, you did everything and anything. But you aren't invincible, you know that right? It was because of ME that you were spared worse, Sansa. If Tickler hadn't kept Joff busy, if Raff hadn't provided those slaves..."

Sansa glared at Gregor.

"They nearly failed several times. Tickler didn't notice that Joff had a fucking Pear of Anguish? How doesn't he notice THAT missing from his little torture chamber? I nearly bled out, remember? And yes, I had fear and pain and I was going crazy. All I read about Stockholm syndrome helped, but I still fell into it a few times. And you were paid in full for ALL your services to me, weren't you? Aren't you part of this take over? I gave you my own damned little sister and my house! You have a fortune and I have a sister who hates me! Let's stop discussing the past now. I'm sorry I brought it up."

Gregor nodded stiffly. He was in complete agreement.

Sansa cleared her throat and tried again. "What we discussed, the other thing, it hasn't been done yet." Smiling with malice, Gregor drawled out, "Well, it really wasn't too clear for me, precious princess. I couldn't tell if you were asking a favor with which what do you have to bargain with? You are too greedy to give up much else. Or is this more of a piece of our partnership, in that case, Tyrion must be involved. We are equal partners, all of us. Remember, Your Highness?" 

"I always hated it when you did that. I hate it now when you say it to me. You know that. I thought it would be better if Tyrion didn't know of it. Plausible deniability." Sansa sipped her coffee and regained her composure. For a moment, she had been shaken and it angered her. The "I Told You So" game was always so fun until Gregor would ruin it.He always did jut like every other male asshole she has known.

Which is really why she doesn't want to reveal too much to Tyrion. He was a really nice man and Sansa didn't want to hurt him. When and if she decides to kill him, it would be quick and painless. Tyrion was such a gentlemen to her and supportive, allowing her to take equal leadership of most things. Sansa liked him and for now, he was a good partner. She sort of hoped it could stay that way. Gregor grumbled out, "It will be taken care of soon enough. And then you will owe me another debt, won't you? I wonder what you are willing to sacrifice next?"


Tyrion walked with confidence towards the conference room in his father's tower. His tower as well now. And Sansa's. And Gregor's. A hit-man and bodyguard for gods sake! But that is what it took to get here and it was going to be worth it. Already most of the employees in the companies worship him or his wife or both.

The warehouses might have gone a little smoother but the same result happened once Raff jumped in. After Gregor's speech and Brat's violence, Raff's charms were in immediate need. Raff had them all in the palm of his hand by the end of the day. Tyrion had no idea what magic Raff used, he just cared that it worked. Tyrion plans to suggest to Gregor that while he do his own thing, he should allow Raff to be his front man. 

"Sir, you are late again, stop daydreaming!" Snapped Podrick as he yanked gently on Tyrion's shoulder. The boy had a harassed look upon his face. He seemed to want to hurt Tyrion in his own daydream and Tyrion focused upon him. "Oh, yes. Sorry about that." Bronn snorted. "Why don't you get your victory dances out of the way here in the hallway while its still just us? You antagonize your father enough, he'll put a hit on you if he hasn't already."

Tyrion smiled. "That is what I have you for. I also happen to be working with Gregor Clegane and his men which will also have a hand in keeping us all safe."

Bronn and Podrick shared a look of amused frustration.

"Tyrion, you are a dead man one way or another, you know that, right? I really wish you'd believe me on this. Look, your father always hated you, now its even more than hate. He will kill you himself or put a hit on you. Gregor just can squash you once he feels secure in all this. Or have any of his men come in all friendly to massacre us all. Sansa is going to murder you one day. She'll get bored or she won't find you useful anymore and poison you."

Podrick steered Tyrion closer towards the closed doors of the conference room.

"Or instead of that, maybe Sansa will feel a little something for you and have Gregor snap your neck really fast. I think she kind of likes you in a freindzone way." Podrick added helpfully. Tyrion rolled his eyes but a small tiny piece of him did believe them and that little piece shrieked as he went to the doors and opened them.

He knew he couldn't go in like this. Tyrion grinned and looked back at Podrick and Bronn as they entered the room. "Yeah, I know I'm probably going to die at the end of all this. But I want it to be by my loving wife. That way I can take her with me."



Gregor was still somewhat new to this life. He cruised the ballroom one more time before heading back towards the curved staircase. Looking about to him it was easy to spot the other bodyguards. They all looked uncomfortable in their suits.

Not Gregor though, he loved it. The expensive cloth rustled busily against him in some areas, a constant reminder of wearing this quality. Of course it wasn't truly quality, no that is what the guests are wearing. Someday Gregor will wear clothing better than any of these rich fuckers.

He made it back to the staircase and caught movement up near the balcony. Gregor headed upstairs silently and cautiously. The threat wasn't very big, it was a redheaded little girl. All these business assholes got together at this charity event and brought their children.

All day he had to hear shrieking kids splashing in the Olympic size pool. Then they all ran about with sparklers, shrieking after a barbecue with their parents. The children were all to be in the guest bedrooms. Apparently this girl has decided to watch the ball instead.

"You aren't cleared to be in this area. Go back to your room, please." He grumbled, expecting her to squeal and run at the sight of him as most of the visiting girls did. Some of the visiting boys as well.

Instead, Sansa turned, looked him up and down calmly then turned her head back to the ball. "Oh? Am I a threat then? In my slippers, nightgown and bathrobe? Am I hiding a bomb or an Uzi?" Gregor grinned at the little spitfire and leaned against the wall. 

"It is a bulky bathrobe, young lady. It could contain weaponry." He forced himself not to laugh. Sansa huffed indignantly. "What could I possibly have hidden in my nightwear that would be a danger? Please take into your account that I am only ten years old."

Gregor managed to keep his voice very even somehow. "Well, you could be in possession of a crossbow. It could fit in that bathrobe. Did you borrow that from that little fat frey girl? Speaking of girls, why aren't you with them? They are all having that huge sleepover, I can hear giggles and squeals. They must be having fun. You should join them."

Sansa shook her head and shut her eyes for patience with this oaf. "A crossbow? Really? Truly? I borrowed the robe from Cersei. And I was with the girls, they gave me a headache. They are playing at being princesses and that is something I stopped doing last year. It bores me now. This interests me more." She shifted and smiled dreamily down at someone.

"Or you might be concealing rifle or even a spear. You are still very young, you should play with the dolls. If you don't like the games then maybe you should persuade the other girls into another game. What are you looking at that is so interesting anyway?"

Gregor came over to her and leaned over her back to see from her perspective. She didn't cower beneath him as others would, it didn't bother her at all. Her voice came out dreamy as she pointed towards her idol.

"I wouldn't know how to even carry a rifle. When was the last time anyone in this day and age was attacked by spear? I tried to get them to do something else, but all the games they like are silly to me. My games seem to bore them. This is not boring, so here I am and I'm not moving until the ball is over. Look, see her? I watch them all down there but I watch her the most. They all glitter and shine but she.."

Gregor rested his chin on the redhead and grumbled out, "Cersei? Cersei Lannister is what you like to watch instead of playing games?"

Sansa breathed out, "I watch her, I study her, just like I do others at home. Her and Olenna are the most impressive you have here in the South. Olenna is a Queen and Cersei is a Princess here. I want to be them then I want to surpass them. They are lovely, they are beloved by society. Charities love them, so does the media. I want more than that. I want power, real power. That is why I study the men too. Tywin is prime example. And I watch him to learn how to topple men like him. If Olenna and Cersei were allowed to run the actual companies, if they were allowed an actual hand in the business end of things can you imagine how much power and worship they could have had?"

Gregor laughed now and moved away. He actual felt a grudging admiration for this girl's determination and her dreams of power in a man's world. At the same time he felt a bit of fear for the little firecracker. She won't be the first girl to try and break into a man's world. It doesn't always go very well for them.

"You should go back to your dolls and the giggling over teen idols. Or just wish to be as popular as Cersei, maybe or Olenna? Because Tywin is not the type of man to ever let girls in the serious stuff. And from what I've seen your father is the same way. Your father will choose your schooling, the way you live and he will choose your husband. Get used to it now. But you can use power like the ladies too."

He felt like offering that lighter ending since the girl amused him.  

Sansa turned and looked at Gregor and she walked over to look up at him. "

"I am going to do it. You'll see. I will sacrifice anything, anyone to get there. I can be as ruthless as a man, I can be just as clever, as smart and determined. I will someday be equal. I will rise past my mother, Cersei, Olennna. I might have to marry someone I don't like, I might have to bend or even suffer but I will climb that ladder even if it takes a very long time. Even if it takes me seconds to be on the top before someone kills me. I'll do it."

Shaking his head, Gregor lifted the little girl to his face to meet her head on. His hands were spanning her entire waist but Sansa didn't seem scared at all.

"I think if you try this you will get yourself hurt or dead. Why would you want to put yourself through pain like that? Just do as your told and once you are married, just rule your husband. You look fierce enough to marry the former mad mayor and talk him out of his pyromania."

It surprised Gregor when a small pale hand touched his lightly scarred cheek.

"And what pain and sacrifices did you make to get here? Why is it alright for you but not for me? You aren't done climbing either, I can tell by your eyes, by the way you act. You are going to rise higher and I will rise higher too. I hope to see you again someday so I can show you what I have become."

Laughing, Gregor gave her a tiny playful shake before setting her down.

"Silly fucking thing. Okay, you are right, I plan on climbing higher. No way am I going to have some old man like fucking Selmy always cautioning and sanctioning me. Once I turn nineteen and my G.E.D. is in my hand, I can move up. Tywin said as much. But are going to rise, I am sure of it. How you'll do it I am sure will be the old fashioned way all women do it. But you will rise, I can see that." Gregor conceded a tad condescendingly. "

Sansa gave him icy eyes that were older than her age. Her chin went straight up and her words fell like stones  from tight lips. "No. I will rise in power my own way. I will use female wiles when I have too. But I am not going to just be some society wife. I will run things, I will own things. I will take it all from them and watch my father's face. Watch Tywin's face, all those smug faces. I am sure of it."

Gregor felt a true respect for the girl, an admiration and so he spoke again. He should have chuckled and walked away then. Instead he had to give a little tease. He was a fucking idiot is what he was. Dammit. Because he grinned and leaned down towards the firecracker. Actually she looked more like a baby honey badger ready for its first battle and it was adorable.

"I'll tell you what, young lady. I will be powerful by that time, so if you are really trying and rising up, I will do favors for you. You just come see me but remember one thing. I tell this to all the admirable folks I lend favors to. You must always pay your debts back to me. And it doesn't have to be money, just something I want or need. And before you can scream stranger danger, I do not mean sex. Ever. Not into redheads. But I never allow a debt to go unpaid for very long. I always get my due."

Sansa smiled up at Gregor as if he gave her a real present. "I will hold you to that. And if I ever do ask for favors, I will always pay it back."   



Chapter Text

Brat was pulling the last of the boxes out of her room when Sansa came into her room. "Sure, now you show. Unless you can help me lift that dresser or bed you are useless to me at this point." Brat muttered and tried to go past her sister with the box. Sansa stood in her way and tried to stare her down. "I want to talk with you. You can finish your moving afterwards."

"No can do. Gregor has us on a strict time schedule. I have ten minutes to get this over to the new Barracks. So follow me and talk if you want to." Brat barreled through her sister and grinned hearing a muffled curse. Suddenly a fist was in her hair at the roots, yanking her hard. "Oh, you cunt, let go!" She was off balance and the box was going to fall. Sansa hissed into her sister's ear and Brat winced at the hot breath against her flesh.

"You stupid little bitch! Why do you have to destroy everything! You destroyed most things I cared about when we were younger and I fucking despised you for it. I had fantasies of how I would murder you. I didn't though. I kept mother off your ass as much as I could. Tried to steer you in the right directions. All to recieve more hate and spite from you. Gregor gave you the right name, Brat. Don't fuck things up for me this time. Not now when I am almost where I need to be. You think being given away to marriage or as an adopted child is bad? I could have given you to Petyr and had you stuck in a brothel. I could have sold you off to Raff to be a slave in some exotic place far away and taken all your fortune as my own."

Brat dropped the box and spun to stare at Sansa. "Would you have done any of those things if you had to? For real? If you owed Petyr or Raff instead of would truly have done either of those things to me? Could you truly be that cold inside to your own blood? To your little sister?"

Sansa looked at her sister with a piercing knowing look. "And if Gregor told you to kill me? If you were ordered by your beloved leader to put a bullet in my head? Could you kill your own blood? Would you do that if you had to?" Brat gave a small harsh laugh after a second. "What the fuck have we become?" Her laughter was echoed but this laugh was even more bitter. "What we had to become to survive and climb our way upwards."

Nodding, Brat turned and picked up her box again. "So why are you pissed at me? Because I stopped Ross from being raped or because I burnt down the evidence of my kill?" Sansa rolled her eyes. "I am angry about that, yes, I am. You could have found another way to stop that rape, Brat." Walking faster because she was going to miss her deadline if she didn't hurry, Brat yelled over her shoulder.

"No, I couldn't. Polliver only gets worse if I try and stop him, and then he does horrible things. Besides, it wasn't just him, Raff was holding her down, waiting for his turn. I was blocked into the booth and couldn't get away from it. But I couldn't watch them do it to her, so I solved it."

Sansa was nearly running in her heels now trying to keep up. Brat nearly flew out of the Lannister home and headed for the former Stark property.

"You shouldn't have even been in a bar! You are still a teenager, did you forget that? You might hang with older guys but you aren't that old! You can't do everything they do! And you can't run around setting off a whole town!"

Rolling her eyes and sighing as if Sansa was a great weight of stupidity that she just can't shake, Brat replied.

"I know it was was a dumb mistake. It was impulse without thought and I apologized to Gregor for it. I also got punished for it and if you think GREGOR didn't make sure it hurt and stuck, you are very, very wrong. So you can fuck off now, I won't be doing that shit anymore. Goodbye, have a great day, stop following me now."

Sansa glared at Brat's back as she tried to keep up. "Don't think to fuck me over on this, Arya. You know what I can do to you. One word to Petyr or Raff-"

Dropping the box again, Brat got in Sansa's face.

"One word to Raff will get you nothing but laughter. I am one of the crew now. Even though I fucked up they have forgiven me. I would never betray them and they won't betray me. And do you really think Gregor would let you stick his DAUGHTER in a whorehouse or sell her across the ocean? You owe him still, don't you? I am not just his daughter, I am one of his crew. You sell me off and they will track me down. When I tell them who did this to me, what do you think they will do to you?"

Sansa shoved her sister hard and the surprise of it made Brat take a few steps back. Growling, Arya made fists and glared at her older bitch of a sister. Hissing, Sansa curled her hands into claws and narrowed her eyes at her bratty little sister. As if the years never changed them, as if nothing has changed. And with siblings, nothing really does change inside, they will revert into the little children if given the chance.

A large shadow cast over the two of them before the girls could disgrace themselves by attacking each other.

"Fuck." Muttered Brat, knowing she was late enough for Gregor to hunt her down. Sansa frowned at being interrupted. "I am speaking with my sister privately."

Gregor looked at Sansa and smiled. His words were so thick with sarcasm and dramatic flair along with his over-exaggerated expressions that Sansa winced. Brat watched this with a fascinated joy, to see her sister wilt.

"Oh? Is that what you were doing? Because it looked to me like you were stopping Brat from following my direct orders by harassing and detaining her. I am SO glad that wasn't at all what it was. You know, I bet I need glasses! Yep, I must!"

Gregor gave a laugh and slapped his knee then gestured to Sansa in a friendly, gosh, silly me way.

"Because I also thought I saw you threatening her. Know what? I bet I need my hearing checked too. I am getting on in the years, it has to be my hearing. Because silly old Gregor thought he heard you telling MY daughter and recruit that you would have Raff sell her off or Petyr put her in one of his private brothels."

He rolled his eyes and grinned, flapping a hand towards her. Bending down and putting his hands on his knees, Gregor laughed again.

 "But no..naw..nay, never, right? Huh? Gotta be me because I can't imagine how you could think Raff would dare do that? And Petyr? That fucking spineless worm would tell you no. He protects himself first and Petyr knows what I would do to him for such a thing."

The face was stern and deadly as if it had never been anything else. For a man of his size it was surprising how fast he was suddenly looming over the proud, angry redhead.  

Sansa found herself forcing her feet not to back up. Gregor bent down and stuck his face in hers.

"Brat is not yours anymore. She is not your concern or your responsibility anymore. I am who you deal with, not her. I already took care of her discipline and lectures, thanks. All set now. She will be just fine, mistakes happen during initial training. You will get over it and leave her alone. You have other shit to worry about, don't you? Once I fulfill my end of the deal, you must fulfill yours. And you better hope that the payment you offer is enough. Otherwise, I will demand a specific payment you might not like."

Sansa swallowed and used every inch of herself to stare into those reptile eyes with complete composure. She felt like a fucking mouse, it was an awful feeling, it was worse than how Joff had made her feel. This was true death in human form and Sansa knew if he felt like it, Gregor would murder her and not blink over it.  "It is my concern if it affects me. This is a bad time for the town to riot against us. We aren't liked very much in the North. We are trying to reestablish ties not reinforce the distrust." 

Gregor gave a very polite smile and stood straight, mimicking her business attitude.

"Really? I didn't know that. Geez, do you think I should tell them not to do that again? I really need your advice on these things. Thank you. Now why don't you go fuck off somewhere? It won't happen again. If I have to keep repeating it, I'm going to think you don't like our services. If you want to protect yourself from the hit man that are most certainly coming with just your hubby's men, go right ahead. I won't be offended. I don't mind just knowing you at a professional business level."

Gregor saw the same angry little high class girl that swore to sacrifice anything to be at the top.

Sneering, he turned away to see Brat already trudging towards their new home. Gregor turned back to grumble at Sansa.

"Leave her alone. Do not distract her anymore. That girl might be the one to save you from a bullet in the head. Brat, the trained killer, a training spy. If you are being watched by her, you would live. Now if it's Arya watching you, the emotional little sister, what would your chances be then?"

He turned and left, following Brat to the new Barracks.


By the end of the day they had all moved everything into the Stark mansion. The pets had done the bulk of the work, leaving only heavy furniture for the men. Raff had dismissed the staff with envelopes from Gregor that made their eyes bulge. The servants were replaced with slaves that were desperately grateful.

Knowing the fate of most of the other slaves, this was the best kind of position a slave could get. The servant rooms Cat had downstairs were more comfortable than Raff was happy with.

However, he saw the amazement and fear on their faces. Fear that it was a cruel game, they knew they would sleep in a basement, chained to listen to rats move all night, or a cage. All three of them looked at the rooms then at the floor. They didn't go into the rooms to look any further, they clasped their hands and waited.

Raff thought of Jeyne and smirked at the cowering three.

"These are your rooms. Across this hallway is a full bathroom with a shower, you three will share it. That isn't a trick, these are your assigned rooms. You will also note at the end of this little hall is a den. With a television, comfortable couches and your own little pantry. Even a tiny kitchen. Mini fridge and stove. Tiny sink. I am sure you will all make do. Here is the way it works for now on. You start out with full privileges like comfy rooms and your own little den and kitchen. I will allow a small budget in your grocery house bill for your meals. You are allowed three meals, breaks and use of the bathroom whenever needed. Slip up, disobey or disrespect a member of the Barracks, make a mistake, you start to lose these things."


Samara and Piggy still did the cooking as well as caring for everything that had to do with their Masters. The slaves did not touch Polivar or Raff's rooms. Polliver and Raff shared a floor with Sandor and Brat by Gregor's order. Brat and Sandor's rooms were as far apart as possible. Each of the crew had a personal full bathroom, a small living area and a large bedroom with dressing room that led to a walk in closet. Polivar kindly gave his dressing room to Piggy as a personal bedroom.

The dog cage came with Raff and Samara. Raff made her carry it and put it in the corner of the room. "That will only be used if you are a bad little bitch. But you are my good girl, aren't you?" He cooed and Samara hurried away from the awful metal wire thing to meekly put her head on Raff's chest. She was being allowed to stand more and more due to necessity. The move couldn't be done on hands and knees.

Raff still had her kneel and crawl most of the time when he was around, he noticed it made Samara feel safest. However, he has lifted the rule of her crawling all the time except when she has to stand for working purposes. When he isn't home, Samara may stand or kneel as she needs or wants to. Samara was so excited over this that the first few days became amusement for the other slaves, including Waif.

The first time Raff told her the rule and left the house, Samara kept waiting for a trick. She would stare at the door then timidly stand, waiting to fall to her knees. All day as she walked carefully, almost as if sneaking and the slightest sound made her freeze, ready to go down to the ground. Piggy would try and cajole and tease to put Samara at ease. Waif smiled and they all watched her with silent support.

The second Raff entered the house Samara went down on all fours and burst into tears, shaking. Raff laughed at her and pulled her into his lap. "Poor thing, was it scary?" She nodded and hid in his chest. "Good girl."

Second day was easier and Samara stopped jumping at the sounds. She did most of her chores standing and then she even stood up while eating lunch. The third day was when she ran up and down the stairs because she could. Then Samara skipped a little and gave a small leap here and there all day because she could.

The fourth day she walked all through the house that she was allowed in, including the grounds, knowing she could. On the fifth day, she stopped sobbing when Raff came home. She would crawl with her usual fearful adoration to her Master,but Samara no longer feared standing or walking. Now she feared it being taken away. 

The slaves all ate together most meals in the kitchen. It was large enough to host a party but Gregor and the crew ate in the dining room. This was by Gregor's order. They served breakfast and supper at a specific time set by Gregor for all the crew.

The slaves eat beforehand and the same with supper. Small breaks and lunch are also shared by the slaves in the kitchen. The three lucky slaves that work tirelessly to keep the house clean were not only polite and friendly to Waif, Samara and Piggy, but a bit submissive to them as well. They would not dare upset the favored pets of the Masters.

It was a new feeling for Piggy and Samara but neither could bring themselves to abuse it. They liked the new slaves. Shae had a dry dark sense of humor that they all enjoyed, Irri who had all sorts of interesting stories and opinions to share and Gilly was just plain nice.


Brat took a moment to walk through the whole house and she even peeked into her old room. It was an exercise room now and she liked it better this way. Her mother never let her decorate the way she wanted in her own room. The new quarters are larger and her entire pay was going towards it's designing.

As she strolled through the house Brat thought if her mother could see it now, she would drop dead all over again. It was very male dominated now and though it was clean as Gregor liked it, it was not at all elegant. It had no woman's touch. A good amount of furniture and paintings were sent to storage or to her sister's home.

Gregor had only kept the pieces he wanted to use in downstairs formal rooms to show off for potential clients. His own furniture was in his wing but Gregor assured them more was coming for the rest of the public areas. They were special order and the ivory and bone structured furniture covered with animal skins took time as they were rare animals, near extinction.

Chapter Text

Tywin's downfall was simple. He has risen so high he forgot to notice those below him anymore.

Sansa, Tyrion and Gregor must have forgotten about that.

 Gregor didn't notice anything about anyone else at the Barracks as long as it didn't interfere with him. He was too busy getting the warehouses in order, the new products moved. There was some dissension to deal with and quotas to meet. 

So Gregor didn't see the look in Waif's eyes at the sight of the new house slaves.


Waif had waited until the men all left for work before going after them. They were expecting this and calmly were waiting for her in the kitchen. Piggy and Samara were cleaning their Master's quarters so the women felt free to hang about the kitchen casually.

Waif entered and glared at Shae who was sitting on the marble counter swinging her feet.

She turned to stare icily at the other two sitting in chairs sipping tea. "If you are here for Gregor, you may leave. Tell the rest of my boys and girls he is under my protection." Both girls stared at Waif like she had gone mad but they both nodded.

"We aren't here for him. I am here for Tywin Lannister." Gilly said and Irri grinned. "I'm here for Sansa Lannister. I think the best part is they probably called the hits on each other. But there are so many out there for the three Lannisters, its really funny."

Waif shrugged.

"It doesn't matter who calls for it as long as they pay up when the deed is done. Very well, but tread carefully here. Trust me when I tell you that these are dangerous people. Be nice to those two pets, in fact follow their lead when you can. Don't try and make the girl talk, don't try and speak to them about anything but what a normal slave would discuss. Make fun of the Masters or gently tease and joke with the slaves but don't cross the line into dangerous insults, don't ever mention anything that sounds like rebellion. Breaking minor rules won't be too bad but if you break major ones, they will turn you in for it. They are truly the epitome of Stockholm Syndrome. They are broken in and the girl has long gone insane, I think."

Shae sighed loudly and Waif turned to face her. "Am I boring you, Shae? And who are you here for?"

With a smirk, Shae replied. "I am not one of your fucking merry band of killer whores anymore, remember? I play to my own tune and you have no right to bore me to death with one of your overcautious lectures. You kicked me out and have no say in who I go to kill. But I find it interesting that you want to protect that behemoth."

Waif walked slowly towards Shae who suddenly scrambled up, trying to hide her uneasiness.

"Do you remember why I kicked you out, dearest? Because though you were a good killer, you were bad team player. Your temper and emotions made you sloppy. Incapable of doing any actual spy work or guarding work. Distraction and extraction jobs that were easy were bungles by your bad or hasty behavior. You put yourself and others in danger, nearly getting one young man of ours killed on your last mission. That is why I had you leave. I told you this wasn't the life for you, to find another life for yourself. I gave you enough money to do anything else in the world and what did you do? You put yourself right back in harms way. I have devoted my life to giving kids a new start, abused children. Clearly with you I have failed."

With a snarl of anger Shae forgot her wariness and leaped off the counter to face Waif.

"You always say that fucking lie! You are a jumped up madam that makes killers! Waif's home for abused kids my ass! I went from being fucked up the ass by one man to another that bald fuck! He told me I was pretty, taught me how to feel good then as soon as I felt safe, he sells me off to you. And guess what? You had me fucking too, just with a creative twist. But hey, at least I got learn to kill and spy. You are as bad as the men that were raping us! You are a just a different kind of rapist!"

Shae never even saw the hand until the blade was nearly touching her eye. "Who are you here to kill, Shae? If it's Gregor Clegane I will give you this one chance to shut your filthy mouth and run the hell out of here."

Turning pale, Shae bit out, "Not your honey bear. But I do not have to tell you who. My business is my own now, you said so yourself. It's not fucking Clegane, so back off."

When a tear or two betrayed Shae's fear, Waif stopped moving the blade closer in tiny increments.

Satisfied, Waif said softly,

"I am sorry you had a bad life, dearest. I had a bad childhood too as did every child who I took in. So I don't have a very motherly instinct about me. But I care about turning victims into survivors, I cared for each child the best I could. You were already using your body, I couldn't change that fact. I taught you how to use it for yourself. You were shown that you weren't just as object but a person in control of the nightmare. And you moved out of that phase fast, didn't you? Then we saw what I knew was there. A crack, a rage that causes such recklessness. You don't belong in this world, I always regretted taking you in and training you. I had told Varys you weren't right for us but he begged me. And that means your early death will be on my shoulders as well as his."      

Wraith moved away from Shae who looked shaken. "I really hope you are telling me the truth, child. Because I will not hesitate to kill you if you try and kill Gregor. I will make it very slow and very painful too."

Waif walked away from Shae who muttered, "Wasn't after your fucking creepy boyfriend. And I don't need your fucking advice for anything."

Gilly and Irri grinned and giggled to each other after Waif had left. "Ever wonder how the fuck old she is? I mean she looks like nineteen right now."

Irrir shrugged, "Does anyone really know how old she is?"

Shae wiped her eyes fast and glanced at Gilly, then said, "I once saw her look almost eighty during a training session. She was looking thirty one minute, then bam. It's like she changes skin almost. It takes me at least a few minutes to switch looks and personalities but not Waif. Gods, I have never hated and admired someone so much. I pray to stand over her grave someday. Because the story of how she died will be as epic as my pissing and masturbating on her grave."



Tyrion and Sansa also were consumed by their own works. Since they have managed to create more efficient and happier staff at their companies, their stocks went up and so did their status as well as their profits.

Sansa was seen as a hero of women and families in the professional workplace. Tyrion became the champion of anyone that was labeled as anything but normal, whether it be a disabled person or a transgender one in the professional workplace. Charities and dinner parties weren't complete without a Lannister in attendance.

It was deliberately let slip that they were very much in love and secretly married since they had a high popularity. It was gossiped and whispered about for a time but it just heightened their invitations and popularity. If anything it made them more intriguing to have around.

Tyrion told excellent jokes and could sing. Sansa was clever,danced and also sang. If a host could manage to get them to do a duet at a gathering, that person was skyrocketed in popularity for a time.

This social and business work along with making sure that Petyr and Tywin weren't screwing them over, made it hard for them to notice much else. Therefore they had no time or inclination to check in with Gregor or his methods with the factories or warehouses.

Oh, Bronn tried to mention it to Tyrion, who would grumble about calling that Mountain asshole again. Tyrion might actually make a call or two, both of them yelling at each other and nothing changed. Well, it changed, it was a bloody forced one.

While the top echelon were celebrating the lovely way Sansa and Tyrion helped the equality in the busiess world. As they all enjoyed their glittering charity events for the less fortunate to have better things, the lower classes in the North were being enslaved.

All any of these upper throng had to do was ask one of their servants. Sansa could have asked her hairdresser, the spa workers or any of the waitstaff at any restaurant shed dined in for lunch.

Tyrion could have asked the security guards, the janitors or any of the lobby men who hail his driver. The bartenders or the cute waitresses at his favorite pub. He and Sansa could have asked any of the staff at their favorite restaurants.

They heard it on the radio, it was on the media but it was always toned down, smoothed over. Well, in snatches of overheard conversations and certain, okay, a good few sources, it sounded worse. But who listens to those who want to deliberately make something sound worse?

So all the self congratulatory sleek ones smiled and ignored the obvious ranting of some wild Northerner who loves to make conspiracy theories. With a witty comment of how soon this guy will be ranting about aliens or werewolves, they look away and upwards.



Gregor indeed had come down like a Mountain.

Raff did see to it that workers had breaks, days off to rest, bathroom time, reasonable lunch times. An area in every factory or warehouse was turned into a cafeteria and kitchen.

Some workers that were not as productive in their jobs were turned into kitchen staff. Taught to cook and keep the cafeteria clean to official standards. Food for breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks were free. A benefit of the job.

For parents that worked there was an option of a daycare for all factory and warehouse workers that was also free. Some workers that were not as productive in their jobs were turned into daycare staff. Taught to care for all ages, given courses on how to deliver first aid and CPR to infants  and children. At any time a parent may access the daycare services as long as they are at work. A benefit of the job.

A small gym is installed at every location and a small store for everyday items you would find in any convenience store. The store is also run by moved workers and the gym is as well. So is a small branch of Lannister Banks that way each employee can get to their banking during breaks.

The break rooms have couches, small gaming areas for everything from chess to ping pong. A few arcade games and even back areas set up for twenty minute naps. Comfortable cots for those who must take a rest. All a benefit of the job.

These are the reports that float upwards and it pleases the Lannisters to hear it from Gregor's mouth at meetings. No need for lay offs or firings, just clever relocating. The Mountain was praised and they begrudgingly begin to try and see him as truly equal.

This is what the sleek ones hear and like to smile over. See? Even below they are receiving better treatment then the Starks and Boltons ever offered. Things are going well and they all clink glasses over it.


The relocated workers are never asked or consulted about the new job. Just one day Raff calls a group to the office and tells them of their new positions. It is done with a smile and it is made to sound nice, but they all feel the same proud northern insult.

Many are indignant but have families to provide for, or loans crushing them and cannot do more than stiffly nod and storm to their new jobs. Others couldn't bear it and either refused to budge from their current positions or they quit in a fury. 


Those that worked the new jobs found they hated cooking or despised snotty nosed crying brats. They found themselves mopping factory floors, a position that was paid far less than the one they held before. Some had no temperance for their new jobs.

Food sometimes was raw and caused food poisoning. A lot of times children were handed back to a tired parent, covered in bruises. On a few rare occasions a baby was handed back dead. Wasn't often and Raff took the worker that was doing it away and that person didn't come back in any position at all.

And the benefits were truly needed in spite of how bad they might be. Because most of the workers were working shifts that doctors would cry over. Luckily, they could sleep, bank, buy things from the store and have free food and daycare because they almost lived there. The two days off were mostly spent sleeping in their much neglected homes.

Petitions for better treatment were created and ripped up as the person who created it was taken away to human resources. A place that was not the refuge it was in the shinier buildings. This was a place where you were brought for lectures or re-positioning if you were lucky.

If not, it was to be disciplined. That involved threats and pain, fear and on rare occasion, death.

Strikes were treated with the same force as a riot would be treated. Those who had left tried to fight back and bad things happened. Tragedies. Secret meetings were broken up and the secret locations were set on fire.

Which meant a small church, two bars and four homes all caught on fire. A whole family in an old tenant building was slaughtered then a few more murders in an alley or two.



The crew was busy trying to do Gregor's bidding. Trying to learn their own new jobs. They were going between factories, warehouses and giving protection to Tywin and Sansa. They didn't see how the house slaves were getting along with the pets.

Polliver and Raff have more money, a nicer living space and no time to enjoy either one. It was impossible and they took this out on the pets, one way or another. But they didn't see the long hours the slaves spent together, all of them. They didn't see the troubles brewing there.

Brat and Sandor didn't have to worry about their awkward relationship because they had no time to. Rarely did they work at the same location. There was only one time they saw each other and that was meals. Regardless of anything else, if one was not on shift then they were at that dinner table.

Gregor reigns over his twisted family and he uses the time to check in with them.

Piggy and Samara cook the food and the house slaves serve it. Piggy and Samara serve their own Masters. Samara kneels with her head on her Master's knee waiting for orders and Piggy stands attentively near Polliver in case he needs something.

They are listening to Gregor tell them he is calling down more of his men from Kings Landing. Polliver, Raff and Sandor looked both angry and relieved. Brat had no real reaction she only grimly acknowledged it will be two more men to force to accept her as an equal.

Gregor told them ShitMouth and Joss were coming to assist the crew. Pollivar smacked the table and Raff cursed while Sandor groaned. Brat took another bite of her chicken. "Is he really called ShitMouth, Sir? I mean, how does he go in public with that name?"

None of them noticed the glances between all the slaves. They had no idea other discussions were happening. Raff never saw Samara threaten a house slave. Polliver didn't see Piggy's frustrated anger at the same house slave.

They never saw how often the three new house slaves left the house or were on top of it with a scope. It wasn't noticed that the slave girls searched the entire home to find the best escape routes. Or the equipment hidden among almost every heat vent. 

Piggy and Samara are not stupid. They are suspicious of the new pets with good reason and no way to tell their Masters of it. That is alright. They know exactly how to handle problems on their own if need be.



Olenna didn't look to see how Varys was caring for Tommen. She was busy warily allowing Kevan into her home with his sunglasses men. Loras was screaming in pain and terror but she doesn't care to see that either. He had quickly been sedated and shoved into Kevan's white van.

Kevan sipped tea with Olenna.

"You are sure you can cure my grandson for me?"

"I can. You have already suffered so much under that vipers den. As have I. They corrupted and murdered my boy. They corrupted your grandson and killed your granddaughter. Join me in this fight and I'll make this boy into anything you want him to be."   

Chapter Text

Gilly and Irri were a cause for suspicion certainly, the pets kept a very close eye on them. They never actually caught them doing anything wrong but it was in the way they acted and spoke, same as with Waif. Piggy finally cornered them with Samara growling behind him protectively.

"Are you like Waif? And if you are, is it our Masters? Is it Polliver or Raff? It's all we care about. Just be honest, okay? We aren't the type to tattle about others. We don't give a fuck what happens to anyone else."

Gilly tilted her head and stared at Piggy like he was a new species.

"Honey, you should rejoice if someone killed Polliver. You could leave here then. It wouldn't be escape, it would be just regular freedom if the man is dead. But I promise we are not here for your Masters. We aren't here to cause any trouble for you. We are well trained, we can do our work here just like a good slave until we are ready to leave. When we are done, we just will disappear. Okay?"

Piggy and Samara seemed to speak without any words. "I don't want my Master to die. He takes care of me, he gives me protection! Polliver needs me to assist him, to care for him, I am needed here. No one else has ever needed me before. What would I do with freedom in a world where no one will ever need or want someone like me? Love is sort of out as huge as I am, ya know?"

Irri laughed along with Gilly. "Is that a joke I hope? Have you looked in a mirror, boy? I have no idea what you might have looked like when Polliver first caught you. You are stocky, but you aren't fat if that is what you are implying." Suddenly a warning eyeball peered out of the thick hair that was Samara, the silent nightmare of the house.

"Fuck, don't do that. I'm gonna have nightmares for a week!" Irri panted out as she held her hand over her pounding heart, staring at the damned eye.

  Gilly caught the meaning however and nodded quickly. She got the point, do not try and discuss Piggy's weight. "We mean you no harm, we mean your masters no harm. We will not interfere with you and we just ask you keep your silence about us. We don't mean to pry. I hope you understand that we will gossip and joke with you as this slave job is rather grim and boring."

Her grin was infectious and Piggy gave a ghost of a grin back. "It would be fun to have someone else to chat with. Samara and I get bored talking to each other all the time. Our arguments are always the same and she always wins." A husky sound that the other two took to be a giggle came from under the hair and they tried not to shudder.

Piggy and Samara tried very hard to get along with the new house slaves.  They adjusted to having so many others in the house during the day. Waif was rarely seen except during meals or when attending Gregor in the main parts of the house. Irri and Gilly would interact with Piggy and Samara when they all cross paths. During meals and breaks they tend to joke around with each other and try to gently make the others join in.

But there were some drawbacks. Well, one main one.



Bitch. Whore. Cunt.

Samara had so many words to call her by. Oh, hate wasn't even enough to describe how she felt about Shae. Piggy had enough hate for that bitch. He felt as unhinged as Samara over Shae. At first it was small stuff, easily ignored.Shae tried to get Samara to talk with no avail. Piggy coldly told Shae to please leave his friend the fuck alone. Both pets wanted nothing to do with the abrasive, critical, know it all woman.

This gave Irri and Gilly something to tease and taunt her about.

There was bad blood between the Wraith's children and the outcasts of the Home. Regardless of how much Gilly and Irri hated Shae, had they known what it would lead to, they never would have taunted her about the pets telling her off.

Shae saw it as a personal challenge now. At first she kept taunting Samara about not speaking. Her serpentine voice was all Samara heard every time she left Raff's quarters. If Masters weren't around to see or hear it, Shae would follow the spooky silent girl, trying to make her say something.

"Jeyne, I know that is really your name. It is a pretty one. I'm going to call you by it until you use your words to tell me to stop." Samara gave her a response with teeth bared and two fingers in the air. Shae gave such a dramatic pout and a sweetly heckling baby tone that Polliver, the king of bullying would have been impressed.

"Uh, oh, Jeynie is upset with meanie Shae. Poor girl, dumb and mute can't tell me to fuck off with her mouth. No, her mouth is only good to suck cock and kiss boots. Come on, say something, show me you aren't truly just some whipped bitch. Hey, I think I get it now. Raff wasn't turning you into a pet or a slave. He just wanted a moving fuck doll. What happens to fuck dolls when they start to get wear and tear as you clearly are..."

Shae grinned as her eyes scanned the many scars and wounds on the thin girl. "They get thrown away. Poor little fuck doll. Where are you going, Jeyne? Oh, well..bye then!"  

"Stop it! Don't you think Samara has enough to deal with without you bullying her?" Piggy would snap but Shae would just give a toothy grin. If Samara wasn't around, then Shae went after Piggy.

"Why do you think you're fat? I mean is it like a disorder you had before you became this collared hog? And really, I mean you leave here all the time to that market, to the farm. You could easily run, you know that? I mean, you know this area a lot better than Polliver, right? You know it isn't normal to want to stay and be with your kidnapper, right?"

Finally, the pets took all they could of Shae's constant mouth spewing things and decided to give a warning Shae wouldn't miss.

Samara was cutting onions while Piggy was adding butter and garlic to a large cast iron skillet. Shae was sitting on the counter and Piggy would have gladly have given up his right pinky to see Raff come in right then. To have this bitch caught at how lousy she was at her job. 

"At least you could act like a real human being during the hours your Master isn't home. I mean, standing and walking around is a big step, sure. What about tying your fucking hair back so you don't look like a fucking horror prop?" When Shae continued to get no response from Samara, she got annoyed.

Gilly and Irri were there gathering the china to begin to set the table.

"Hey, do you think you could maybe do some of the work around here? Huh? Like maybe help us set the table? It's not like you are going to get anywhere with the pets. Give it up, in fact, you should really give up the entire trip. Whoever your target is, I feel bad for them. It is obvious your method will be to badly taunt them to death." Irri taunted cruelly and Gilly smirked.

Shae spit out, "Fuck off, I'm not talking to you. I am busy talking to this fucking cheap imitation of a well ghost. Now listen, if you don't talk Jeyne, I'll never find out if you or I fuck Raff better. Does he like it best when you use your mouth or hands before he-"

Shae screamed as the blade the girl was using came down hard slicing off the tip of Shae's finger. The flesh lay uselessly upon the marble counter which now had blood and a scratch upon it. Samara swung with the blade again, this time at Shae's face, but Gilly and Irri were there to grab her.

"No...hurting her we can cover up. Killing her is a different story, dear." Gilly whispered as the girl began to calm herself. They both released Samara when she just laughed at them.

Piggy grabbed the screaming woman by her long hair and slid the still burning hot pan, spitting butter under her face. Samara helped pin her over it. The other two hovered by but didn't stop them this time. Piggy's flushed face came very close to Shae's head and he grunted his words like an enraged boar.

"We can kill you. We know exactly what to do with a body, bitch. Trust me. Do you want to imagine what it's like knowing others are eating your flesh? Huh? Guess what is for dinner tonight? That tender meat you stuffed down your face two days ago? And the meat tonight in the meat sauce? Keep fucking with us and I swear you'll be on the menu."

Piggy let some of the butter spittle burn the girl's face as the meaning of his words sunk in quite well. Shae kicked backwards and Samara fell away with a grunt. The bitter whore's head cracked back into Piggy's chin and he let go. She wrenched away from them and staggered back. " two are lying. Sick fucks..look at my finger!"

That night Shae stood tearfully in front of Raff with her bloody bandaged finger. She explained that she did it helping the pets cut vegetables for dinner. Raff didn't take her to Qyburn as he might have done if it were Samara. Instead he examined it, stitched what he could, gave her a painful tetanus shot and an antibiotic shot. She gave soft thanks and tearful sobbing, making sure her cleavage was on display.

Samara seethed as Raff pushed Shae to the ground and had her use her mouth on him.

But that was just the start.

Shae has been bested by two freakish lowly creatures and she couldn't live with that. Vengeance has just begun.


Polliver has been a bully since he can remember. He loves to make others do whatever he wants, he likes to make others look foolish and cry, grovel. His father had been a bully. He had lots of practice on his wife and son as well as at his job.

Polliver's father was a corrections officer for the Red Keep Prison. Tywin Lannister owned it and the state paid him kindly for taking it off their hands.

It was full of sadists, murderers, rapists. And then there were the prisoners. 

When Polliver's father was at home he not only drank, he reigned like he was the warden of his own private prison. And truly, Polliver and his mother were prisoners. Polliver's room consisted of a mattress, a dresser and closet with a shoe rack and polished hangers. Gods help you if you hang clothing on a hanger that wasn't polished first. There were many rules and they were followed.

At first Polliver tried to be obedient at all times, tried to be perfect in all things, tried to follow every impossible rule. Then he noticed something. His mother never broke a rule. His mother was obedient, perfect and meek in all ways for his father.

And she was still beaten, still as tormented physically, verbally and mentally as Polliver himself. Even though he would mess up and therefore deserve what he got, she was perfect but still received the same level as harassment. Huh.

Polliver stopped trying to please his father and things only got worse. Some would have crumbled, his mother wept and begged her son not to push the man. Polliver told his mother that he was no longer scared of his father.

And with her worn, bruised face full of terror for her son's life, Polliver's beloved mother kicked him out of her house.

"You leave now! Run as far from here as you can! Don't ever come back, don't ever try to get in touch with me! Do you hear me? I won't watch my son die! Get out or I'll beat and drag you out myself!" With tears in his eyes and a fast hard hug for his mother, Pollivar grabbed what meager items he had and ran.

Just before he left the house, his mother grabbed her son and shoved something into his hand.

"My sister gave me this years ago to use to leave him. I was going to take you and leave while he was at work. But that day..I packed everything I could into your diaper bag. I took you out in your stroller like I did almost everyday. We went to the train station and then we were at the airport. That is as far as I ever got. I couldn't do it and we went back home. Your father never found out and I never touched this again. But you can use it and don't you dare chicken out like I did! Now go! I love you and hope you find a good life for yourself."

Polliver ran and used the two hundred dollars as best he could. He was in the lowest level of the Kings Landing youth detention center within two months. He had stood in front of Judge Stannis Baratheon, there was steely pity in the man's eyes. The judge didn't seem to like his father which Polliver found fascinating.

"I am sentencing you to one year in youth detention. You will continue your middle school education there as well as recieve counseling. I am also recommending that you be not given back into your parents custody. We shall meet again after your year is up and see what family court can offer you."

Polliver was soon in a gang and was bullying paradise. At the end of the year it was decided that Polliver was unfit to be placed in a foster home or adoption center. He was put into a program for kids with behavioral issues.

To his horrified amusement it was run by Kevan Lannister. The brother of Polliver's father's boss. Sweet gods, why can't he get the fuck out from under these Lannisters? Polliver didn't let the hellish place take him down, in fact it was a bullies paradise. The counselors, teachers and religious instructors were all bullies and sadists. So were some of the students.

And though others didn't believe him when he said it, Polliver was actually grateful for the mockery of a school. It taught him what his father and mother couldn't. He learned how to use restraint when needed. Nothing any of the authority figures did stopped him from his own bullying or penchant for bad behavior.

But Polliver learned the need to shut his mouth for self preservation after spending months with a wired jaw for telling Kevan Lannister to fuck off. It took several rounds of solitary with nightly random beatings before Polivar understood how to act when others were watching.

He was assisted by other kids in learning how to spy, how to creep about. These skill were only perfected as Polliver found himself rising in the ranks at school. Soon Polliver made his first true kill. A guard that was known to torture and accidentally on purpose kill some of the youngest and weakest students.

It took four boys to get the man down. Pollivar strangled him after beating him nearly to death. His popularity went higher among more students for it. He also was learning how to gain popularity among the staff as well.   

He lovingly would set up the alter that he raped a new female student upon the night before. It was a high position to serve in the school chapel. Polliver has learned to watch Kevan Lannister speak from that podium as if it were the word of the gods given to him.

Then Polliver would reverently shake the man's hand. The same hand that would shove a boy's face into a toilet full of the fresh shit Polliver had taken. When Gregor came along, Polliver was ready for a fresh start. It was a huge plus that his criminal skills came in quite handy.


Polliver believes, truly believes that he is kind to his pet Piggy.

Considering his upbringing, considering his world, he was. He is. And so far, his beast only has little fuck ups, nothing Polliver can't handle. He is proud of how he has cared for his pet. Look, all that jiggling fat is gone, the boy is still husky, but that is muscle too. But Polliver is a bully and has a temper.

So even though Polliver has been bullying employees at factories, as well as locals that are angry, just like his father, Polliver is never done bullying if he sees a reason to continue it. And here it was. Polliver stood still in front of the steps to enter the house. He was staring down at a cigarette butt. Lifting it and studying it, Polliver confirmed it was the brand he would always catch his Piggy smoking.

He knew Piggy had a pack stashed away some where but Polliver could never find it. His pet hasn't slipped up with smoking in some time. The last time Polliver caught him, Piggy was burying a filter in the backyard of the old Barracks.

Polliver buried Piggy up to his neck in a hole he made the boy dig. He left him there all night and didn't retrieve the boy until the next afternoon. After he dug Piggy out, Polliver beat him with a willow switch until the kid couldn't squeal anymore. Apparently, Piggy has forgotten his last lesson.

What made Polliver see red wasn't that his Piggy slipped up and smoked. That was amusing, it gave a reason for a punishment. Polliver was fond enough of his pet to enjoy letting him have his little mistakes. Polliver gave corrections like any good owner but he never got really angry over it.

Disrespect is what bothered Polliver.

Piggy gave him not just fearful servitude, he nearly worshiped his Master and Polliver encouraged that. The forbidden cigarette half smoked was right here where anyone could see it. Not only Polliver, but Gregor or any of the crew. Or what if there was an emergency and one of the Lannisters came by? 

This was blatant disrespect and clenching the cigarette in his hand, Polliver entered the house, thankful he came home early today.


Jumping into the air at both the slam of the door and Polliver's bellow, Piggy glanced at Samara. "Hey, work on dinner for me while I see what is pissing him off this time." He muttered as Samara nodded and gave him a sympathetic look. Piggy started to head towards the hall but Polliver was already steamrolling into the kitchen.

Piggy could see the anger on his Master's face and that it was solely directed at him. "You little fucker, get your ass over here now! What the fuck is this? Huh?" Polliver shoved the half smoked cigarette into Piggy's face. "This yours? You couldn't even be bothered to try and hide it? Didn't even bother to go out back with it and bury it afterwards like a decent animal buries its shit?"

Crying out at several hard smacks across his head, Piggy protested. "Master, I didn't! Please, it isn't mine!" Polliver stopped whacking Piggy and stared at him with a look of disbelief. "You would dare to lie to me? Go on, lie to my face, bitch. You want to dig your own hole deeper? Go on then." With a cry of frustration, Piggy begged for Polliver to believe him.

"I would never lie to you, Master. I didn't smoke that. And if I had smoked, I wouldn't have done it in the open or left the evidence there! But I didn't do it, I swear it!" Polliver stuck the cigarette in Piggy's face. "Is this your brand?" Piggy nodded miserably. "But you didn't smoke it? Someone else here likes your brand of cheap generic cigarettes? Who? Name someone, boy. Go on, who? TELL ME!"

Piggy knew damn well who it was and so did Samara. And they both knew no one would believe them without proof.

As Polliver began to hit Piggy, this time with fists, Samara cooked dinner, shaking with impotent fury. She could do nothing, say nothing and Piggy was only making it worse by denying the crime. Polliver grabbed a beer from the fridge as Piggy lay on the floor, holding a broken nose and spitting out blood.

"I want to know where you are hiding your cigarettes, Piggy. I'm so pissed at you right don't want to make it worse, boy. Tell you what, you bring me to where you hide them and then you apologize for lying to me and I'm going to see to it that you don't sit for at least a week. You keep lying to me about smoking, you don't give up that pack to me and I'm going to see to it that you aren't able to walk for at least a week. Your choice." With a shuddering sob, Piggy nodded.

He snuffled blood, snot and tears as he led Polliver out back towards the area where they chopped and stacked wood for the fireplaces. Piggy extracted a crumpled cigarette box and handed it to his Master. "And are you sorry for lying to your Master?" Piggy gritted his teeth but he grimly nodded. "Yes Master, I am very sorry for lying."

"Good." Polliver took another pull on his bottle then opened the box of smokes. "How many would you say you had left here?" Shrugging, Piggy guessed, "I think I had seven left." Shaking his head, Polliver said, "Nope, you have five. But I have this half smoked one in my hand and look at that." Polliver pointed at another crushed filter near the wood pile and Piggy groaned in frustration and despair. It wasn't fucking fair. Polliver was giving his pet a shark grin that was maniacal in it's cheeriness.

"Oh Piggy..the trouble just keeps getting worse for you today, doesn't it? Go on, tell me that one isn't yours either. Want to? Wanna keep digging that hole deeper for yourself? Anything to say, boy?" Piggy shook his head and stared at the ground, already weeping. Grabbing Piggy by his hair, Polliver dragged the boy into the house while his other hand contained the two butts and the battered pack. Once they entered the kitchen, Piggy found himself kneeling on the tile.

Polliver shoved the smoked cigarettes in Piggy's mouth first. "Chew and swallow them, now." When Piggy started to gag more than chew, his Master forced some of his beer into his pet's mouth. As soon as it helped Piggy wash the vile pulp down, Polliver pulled the bottle away. Then he had Piggy eat all five of the leftover cigarettes.

"Don't worry by the time the nicotine sickness hits you, you'll be too busy worrying if you will explode your vocal chords from the beating you are about to get." Polliver assured his pet as he rummaged through the kitchen drawers till he found what he wanted. He held up a large steel spatula with holes in it. "This is what I'm using on you for smoking. I'm going to beat your ass and thighs with this until I see purple circles all over a red ass."