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Sugar Sun School For Wayward Teens

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Loras staggered past the glittering glass and peered at the twisted, smoking metal of the car. "Oh fuck...oh fuck....no..NO! HELP, PLEASE! HELP!" He stared in horror at his boyfriend Renly, laying half upon the hood. Screaming, he noted that inside the car was his sister, her face was just out of the windshield. The rest of her was still inside the car, between the driver and passenger seats. Loras wanted it to just be the mix of cheap wine and expensive drugs, just a bad trip. 

He tottered on legs that didn't want to support him and yanked at his hair. That lovely face, it was part of the glass, it was as if the car was jealous and ripped that face off Margery itself. Seeing her long hair and some scalp waving in the harsh breeze made Loras keep screaming, he didn't think he'd ever stop. Her body looked like a discarded toy in the backseat with a red meat flesh mask for a face. Those eyes were still brilliant if empty in the ruined mess. Loras screamed louder as he started to stagger back towards Renly. He waved his arms as if wanting to make a spell to fix his lover and sister.  

Ramsay moaned and blinked rapidly, everything hurt. Tilting his head slightly, he saw the whore he was kidnapping to hunt was no longer pleading with him to slow down, to let her out. No, her eyes were glazed and too close to his feet, which made no sense. It took him some time before he was able to crawl out of his upside down van. He moaned and crawled towards the sounds of sobbing and screaming. He looked at the huge accident and wondered how the fuck this even happened.

Arya kept slapping at Sansa as if it were early morning and she needed to wake her. "Hey, Sansa, hey, I need you. Please, sis, wake up. Please?" Sansa groaned and tried to open her eyes. Bursting into relieved tears, Arya said, "We are in so much fucking trouble. So much. You have your license on you, huh? Can we pretend it was you driving? I...I think we are not hurt too bad but...I think we might have some dead people here....oh god, what do we do?" "We go help and think of others first."

Theon sat without moving. Even when someone tapped on the glass of his window. He heard the door wrenched open. "Uh, dude? Are you okay? Hey, uh, not sure if you know this...but you are sitting in a wreck. Like, right in the smack center of it. With a really bad looking head wound and a dead person real close by you." Swallowing hard, Theon managed to mutter, "My sister, Yara. We...are running away from our dad. We...need to get going." Theon was pulled away from his dream.

Joff roared in rage as he dragged himself out of his new car. "Who is fucking responsible for this? You will all pay, all of you! For my car, for my injuries! I want a cell phone immediately!" The bodies of his father and siblings meant nothing to him, the fact that he was even drunker than his father had been means nothing to him. What matters is who shall fix his car and his messed up leg. He looked around at the disaster and then his eyes pinned upon some kid pulling another person from a truck. Screaming curses, Joff kicks at the car and mutters about others always ruining his damned fun.

Damon lifted the dazed kid from the truck just as Ramsay staggered over. "Had a fucking heart attack when I remembered you were in the van. I checked the back and you were gone, I thought you were thrown, asshole!" Damon grinned. "Thanks for caring. Got bounced around is all and came to help the others. What the fuck happened? Shit, this guy just is bleeding everywhere, in total fucking shock. Anyone call for an ambulance yet? Holy shit! How many died here?"

Ramsay shrugged. "I don't know. At least three dead that I can see so far. That Stark girl over there, she had a cell phone and called already. The two sisters are trying to help get the fancy boys to calm down. Looks like the Tyrell Twins and SuperFairy are broken up for good. Golden boy is all set for raging to mommy too." Ramsay giggled then grunted when Damon shoved him while walking past with the boy. "What? What did I say? Hey, who do you have in your arms anyway?" "Some runaway."

 

Tywin sat sternly upon the wooden high backed chair and neatly folded his hands upon the polished desk. He glared sternly at Roose Bolton, Cersei Lannister, Olenna Tyrell, Ned and Cat Stark and Balon Greyjoy. Then his gaze shifted to pin his harsh gaze upon the teenagers all standing uneasily in a row.

"I want each of you children to understand how very fortunate it is for each of you that my brother has a place for you to all go. That he is allowing all of you to go, regardless of payment." His eyes narrowed upon Damon and Theon as he cleared his throat. Balon turned red and made fists as if wishing to put them through the arrogant man as well as his son.

"You are all equally guilty in the deaths caused. All of you were drunk or on drugs. All of you. That includes you, Ms. Stark." Tywin's gaze settled icily upon Arya who stared back in a way that made her parents groan softly. "You were inebriated and driving without a license." Arya shot back, "I had one joint and I have a permit." As if Arya had not spoken at all, Tywin looked at Sansa. "You had a license but no permission to use your brother's car and you were also inebriated."

"All of you were speeding, all of you were inebriated and all of you will bear the fault. Be very grateful you are not all going to an adult prison or a youth detention center. Be grateful that I was able to secure spots for you all at the reform school. I do hope you all learn something during your time there."

 

A bus showed up, glaring white with gold lettering on the side. Sugar Sun School For Wayward Teens was scripted across the bus.

Ramsay drawled out, "You have got to be shitting me with a name like that." Joff yawned and shifted his feet impatiently. "That's my fucking crazy ass uncle for you. What a stupid fucking name." All words stopped when the bus door opened and King Kong squeezed out. Loras tittered after a moment and whispered to Theon, "A circus is missing it's strong man."

Arya grinned and leaned past her sister to respond to Loras. "Will there be enough room for us and him on the bus? Or maybe he just tucks the bus under his arm and jogs it there." The kids all gave a mild laugh but the giant gave the largest smile. His small eyes pinned upon each of them in turn, lingering the longest on Arya.

"My name is Gregor Clegane. I will be your guide into the hallowed halls of Sugar Sun. All of you get on the fucking bus and shut your mouths. Wave bye bye sadly to your families through the bus windows so I have something good to jack off to on our way back. Move your asses! We don't keep Kevan Lannister waiting for a bunch of spoiled little shitheads! Wave bye bye to cushy happy designer lives, children! I am your new nanny now and I most certainly do not use time outs. I firmly believe in bribes and brutality. I am sure you will all have your fair share of both to offer me. Oh dear, I see some tears already. Poor things, don't you worry, there will be plenty of time to cry into your pillows later on."

Chapter Text

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey! Girls and boy, it is wake up time!"

"Whore! Wake up! Wake up!" Polliver banged upon Myranda's door with his baton before giving Jeyne's door the same treatment. "Up! Feral, wake up!" He slammed his baton upon Hot Pie's door. "Piggy, rise and shine, asshole!" Just as he started to walk away, he heard the boy muttering something from behind his door. Polliver gave a wolfish grin and banged on the door harder. "Did you say something, Piggy?"

Nothing further was said behind the door but Myranda spoke as she came out of her room. "He said he is weighed every week and has lost enough to lose that fucking nickname by now." Polliver nodded then gave two cheerful hard smacks with his baton against Myranda's narrow ass as she shrieked at him angrily. "Thanks whore, but I wasn't asking you, was I? Get against the fucking wall and shut up. Don't need your mouth on my cock right now so you don't need your mouth open."

With a poisonous sweetness, Myranda smiled and leaned her back against the wall. "Yes, Counselor Polliver." Jeyne came out next and pressed her back against the wall. One eye came out of the long tousled black hair and Polliver leaned down closely. "Hello there, Eyeball. How is every little fucking thing in your island of hair?" Polliver waited while tapping his foot while the girl snarled soundlessly and pushed her hair out of her face.

Hot Pie staggered out of his room and before he could line up with the girls, Polliver administered a few hearty whacks upon the boy's buttocks. "You may not be a porker anymore, but you still have a big fucking mouth and attitude, don't you?" The boy yelped and gave a swift apology. Polliver twirled the baton then sauntered forward, leading his ducklings to breakfast. Usually these students didn't need escorting, they have been here long enough to have their own permanent rooms and chores.

"I took time out of my busy morning to come get you personally. So I expect you assholes to pay attention to me. I know you are sad that you have had this whole place to yourselves after the last graduates left. But as much as we love giving you our full attention, it's time to bring some new blood in. We have new students coming on the bus today. All of them fucking spoiled rich assholes that deserve your warmest welcome. Kevan will be wanting his rituals and we shall be giving it our best, won't we? You will all eat then shower and dress. I want no slut changes to your uniform, Whore. I want your hair pulled neatly back, Feral. And Piggy, so help me, keep your mouth shut today."

 

Stannis and Tyrion frowned as they concentrated on the chess board. With a snort, Tyrion sipped his wine and muttered, "I can't think this early. It's too early for me to play, Sir. You shall have to wait until our usual time this evening, I think. Besides, it's almost time for the Kevan Lannister show." With a sigh, Stannis leaned back in his chair then stared hard at his fellow teacher. "It is too early for chess and thinking. But it's not too early for wine?"

Tyrion stood up and stretched. "My dear professor, it is NEVER too early or late for wine. That is the very point of it. I am certain on this. In order to put up with Kevan, with the new students and the ones currently here...I need the wine." Stannis stood and fixed his suit and tie before joining Tyrion in heading out into the brilliant early morning sunshine. They squinted as they headed into the front yard and watched as the full time school nurse and therapist came gliding forward.

"Mr. Handsome! Nice of you to grace us with your presence at such an unnecessary hour of the morning." Raff gave only the briefest sneer towards Tyrion before he grinned, seeing Polliver heading his way. "The ducklings are on their way out. All brushed and shined up like the nicest bunch of skanks you'd ever want to meet." Stannis gave the younger man a very censuring look. "Don't speak that way about them. You are to see to their well being and counsel them, not make things worse."

An argument as old as time was about to begin if it weren't for the sight of Unella marching towards them. "Oh shit, here comes the hammer. Everyone brace yourselves." They all gave a laugh at Stannis's muttering but all did straighten up as the woman came closer. "Gentlemen, I am glad you are all on time but I do not see the students. Were they not informed of the importance of being on time? Keven will be out here in a moment and if those children aren't lined up..."

Polliver gave Unella a small nod then gestured towards the doors leading to the dormitory. "Here they are now, Unella. Look, all lined up and ready for viewing." Unella gave a small sigh of relief as she then stood in front of the students. She straightened Hot Pie's collar, buttoned Myranda's sweater to the collar bone while staring her down with disapproval. Unella clucked with impatience as Jeyne's ponytail fell apart in front of her. With quick efficiency, Unella put Jeyne's hair into a ponytail so tightly held back that tears sprung into the girl's eyes.   

A moment later they were all blinded and blinking away tears of irritation. Kevan Lannister wore a white formal suit, white pointed toe shoes, a white wide brimmed hat and his white hair was styled to curl lightly against his perfect collar. His white tie lay perfectly against his well pressed shirt and even his silver cane gleamed, the small crystal on the top glittered playfully in the morning light.

The two men flanking him wore mirrored sunglasses, similar styled suits in pastel colors as if afraid to overshadow the gleaming white styling of their employer. Harold wore a light blue suit with blue suede shoes and his hair was a tidy, close clipped mess of black curls. Bob wore a light purple suit with matching dyed leather dress shoes, sandy hair that was in a very traditional close cut.

 

The staff and students alike all stood at attention, giving their full focus to Kevan. He stood before the group of them and gave a pleasant smile, his eyes excited. Everyone knows that Kevan loves receiving new students and remolding them. The only thing he loved more than new students was a reason for lectures or performances. Spreading his arms wide as if to envelope all of them, Kevan began to speak in his dramatic, overly enthusiastic tone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good morning! Is this not a gorgeous day? I appreciate that all of you joined me this morning to welcome our new students to our wonderful community!" Kevan turned his bleached bright smile onto the three students. "What a great opportunity is here for the three of you! A chance to be the best examples of what these new students could be. I expect you to help our new wayward children in learning their way here. Ah, here comes the bus now! Excellent!"

Chapter Text

The bus was hot, it was stuffy and it rattled continually. Driven by a large scarred man who scowled but never spoke, monitored by the even larger bald man. Gregor sat up front and kept giving the children a grin of such happiness that it made them all nervous. He sat directly in front of Joff, who had his own seat. Right behind Joff, sat Arya and Sansa.

Both girls unwillingly hearing Joff's snipes about his warped great uncle, about his sad, drunk dwarf uncle and how both will favor him, release him early. This annoyed the girls and made Gregor grin so wide that Arya wondered out loud if the top of his head might fall off.

Gregor only winked at her and whispered, "All in good time, my dearling. Soon we shall see just how merry your Nanny Gregor can be." This made Sansa shudder and she smacked Arya. "Shut up. Don't cause trouble. We aren't even there yet. The last thing we need is you causing more trouble for us." Arya rolled her eyes and glared out the window.

"Still blaming it all on me, sis? Figures, after all, who would believe the perfect Sansa would ever have been just as guilty. No, you just were sent along as company and guidance for your little sister, right? Bitch." Sansa pinched Arya's arm hard and hissed, "I never said it was only your fault. Don't call me a bitch."

The other side of the bus had Loras and Theon sitting together. Directly behind them sat Damon and Ramsay, who were keeping themselves busy. They kept playing in Theon and Loras's hair, whispering into their ears until Theon exploded. Turning around to face the bullies, Theon snarled out, "Fuck off! Don't fucking touch us or talk to us. Fucking gaybashing nazi cunt rapists or something!"

Loras burst into laughter at the stunned looks. "Maybe they got confused and thought we were all sentenced to a male prison ward. They want to try and scope out their bitches ahead of time or something."

Damon turned red and his eyes narrowed but Ramsay only gave steel ice eyes and a smirk that scared the boys a bit. "What a wonderful idea. Thanks. Or is it an invitation to try? A challenge, maybe. I always loved dare games. So does Damon." Loras gave a nervous titter and Theon snorted. "I wouldn't fuck either of you two with a ten foot pole. Don't think Loras is interested either. Guess you'll have to take turns practicing the scenes from Deliverance upon each other. Now please just leave us the hell alone."

This request was denied as the threats flew from Damon and Ramsay. Loras and Theon continued to retort and it made the time almost fly by.

 

All of the children stopped squabbling as the bus drove into the gates of the school. The bus rattled past the garden, past the crops and field then parked in the enormous driveway leading to a main white building.

"Uncle Kevan has gone crazier than ever. He looks like a Southern plantation owner ready to sell us peanuts or fried chicken." Joff stated then gave a bitter laugh.

Gregor boomed for all the students to stand and file off the bus. He waited until they each reached him and the bus door then he tossed them off into the dirt. Each of them picked themselves up and dusted off. Joff and Arya were the only ones complaining out loud of their rude treatment.

 

"Welcome to Sugar Sun School for Wayward Teens! And look at you, a group of teens that have all lost your way. I am so thrilled that we will be able to take you all in and help guide you back towards a useful, healthful and meaningful life!"

 The new students stared at Kevan and his two minions, trying not to laugh but all smirking. This was not unusual and Kevan took no offense. He smiled broadly and lightly tapped his cane upon the ground at his feet.

"Introductions must come first. My name is Kevan Lannister. I am the proud owner, director and creator of this lovely school. These two men are my closest associates and trusted friends, Harold and Bob. They help me do whatever is needed to keep our school well in hand and running smoothly at any and all costs."

None of the students wanted to question that last uneasy statement but all took it as a threat. Kevan strolled to stand in front of his staff and pointed his cane at each staff member as they came forward.

 

"This is Doctor Unella Septa. She will asses each of you, prescribe any medications needed, physicals, referrals and more. All the planning of your meals, activities and therapy will come from her orders. A small note, we do have a well stocked clinic here and an on call surgeon if it's ever warranted. Of course, we always strive to keep you all at your best health! Nurse Raff Sweetling will see to your everyday health and will offer health classes that will only enhance you in life. He is also going to be a large part of your therapy needs. Along with Doctor Unella, the two of them shall make your every single day, a new one full of only the best options and treatments for you."

"This is Professor Stannis Baratheon. He will be in charge of your math and science studies. The good professor also offers other unique school activities and is always available for those who need extra help or academic guidance. And please meet Professor Tyrion Lannister. He shall guide you in your english and history studies. As well as offer other classes and activities that you might enjoy. The professor will also serve as guidance counselor for any prospects of college, training programs or career possibilities."

"Counselor Polliver plays many roles here for you. Escort, disciplinarian and chaperon of any non-academic setting. Of course, you have already met Gregor and his brother Sandor. Sandor is the quiet one driving your bus. He is our driver, handyman and general management of the properties. You shall all know him better as you learn responsibility of your new home. Sandor shall help you all learn some basic home improvements. Gregor is your gym teacher, he is also responsible for your outdoor chores and activities. He shall teach you gardening, woodwork, auto work and more. He is also support and counseling along with Polliver."

 

Kevan walked past the staff and over to the three students standing still and silent. With his cane he lightly touched each student which made that student leap forward.

The first girl was thin, her large eyes offering false promise and honest sadism. Even with her hair smooth down her back, her conservative shirt and sweater buttoned to the collar and a skirt that went straight to the knees, she somehow still screamed of sexual things. Her eyes challenged and lured the new students.

"This is Myranda. She has been here for a year now. Picked up on her sixteenth birthday for what was her fourth prostitution offense, second assault offense and while in police custody, the girl attempted to rob two officers. After a good support system and the right lifestyle, our Myranda is on her way to learning how to be a good lawful citizen."

The boy stood red faced but looking only at the ground when it was his turn for introductions as Kevan smiled down upon him like a blessing.

"Hot Pie is one of my greatest success stories still left here at our school. You would never guess by looking at this young man that only a mere seven months ago he was disgustingly heavyset. Full of junk food and fat, he was selling drugs to support his gaming habit. Thanks to our help, Hot Pie has gained muscle, lost weight, shed a drug problem and a gaming addiction. He is an excellent cook and creates most of our meals now."

With clear relief, the boy stepped back and gave a nudge to a thin, incredibly short and pixie looking girl. Inching forward a bit, the girl's hands seemed to be trying to pull her hair forward without actually touching the harsh pulled back locks. Her large violet eyes looked at them each quickly then away.

"Jeyne is our miracle work in progress. She was brought to us with the unusual classification as a human feral. Raised by a group of crack addicts, kept in a cage for most of her younger years, released upon a police raid when she was ten. Since then I am afraid our poor child was lost in the cracks of society. She ran from her first foster home and spent time on the streets. Jeyne was living in woods, behind city dumpsters, wherever she could and stole, fought and even killed to survive. It was only amazing providence for her that Unella saw her case before she was tried and sent to a prison for life. We were able to secure her a lifetime placement with us. This is her second year with us and Jeyne's improvement is fast and stunning. A great example of how helpful we can be when you give yourself over to our program."

 

Kevan stepped away from the girl and stood directly in front of the new students.

"Of course, these three miracles of ours did not have your advantages. They had no rich parents to pay us, they have nothing to look forward to in their future except for the tools we give them. And now, you have put yourselves in the same situation. No amount of money will matter here for you. Whether your parents are rich, famous, connected, none of that matters in here. You have only us and your own selves to rely on. That means, young Joff, that even though you have relations to myself and your professors, you will not receive any favors or recognition for it. Equal footing for all here, children. And right now, considering you have destroyed your own lives and severed other lives, all seven of you are on very uneasy footing indeed."

Chapter Text

Intake was its own special hell of boredom, discomfort and disbelief. If there are ever any doubts upon whether a teenager was sent to this place by accident, it was found out right here.

The boredom alone of the tight gray walls of the waiting area just before the health clinic, it's overly bright lighting, the floors polished enough to slide if a person ran. No chairs to sit upon, the floor or pressed against the wall. No cell phones, no music, no games, no books, not even a television screen. Just stand or sit in the hall in between the damned back and forth of the medical rooms.

By the time a student is called into the doctor or nurse's office, they are ready to start shit or talk eagerly just to get done and leave. Sometimes they will explode when they are in the hallway. All of it is fine by Polliver, Raff and Unella. No behavior surprises or shocks them anymore. All of them enjoy the challenge in their own way. At first they all just bothered each other or stewed in silence while Polliver watched all of them with an amused smirk.

 

Raff called each of them one by one into his office, starting with Sansa. He took vitals, he did a quick physical on each of them, as well as cavity searches for drugs. When Sansa asked for a female to be present, Raff laughed and asked Polliver to leave the door wide open. "Now, you don't have to worry about being violated, everyone can watch and make sure I don't molest you."

The door was left open for all of them during the cavity search after that and all glared at Sansa for it.

He asked questions of each of them concerning family health issues, concerning their own health history. All read off a long chart that Raff checked off as he went down the list. That is when the teenagers began to test him back.

"Are you sexually active? Are you on birth control?"

Arya snapped, "None of your fucking business."

Raff smiled at her with full charm then smoothly responded, "If you are unable to let me know if you have been sexually active, that might mean you have been sexually assaulted and afraid to speak of it. Perhaps I should do a full gynecology exam? With the door open so everyone can be aware that I am not molesting you, of course."

Arya muttered that she wasn't sexually active and didn't interrupt the questions again.

Ramsay and Damon each tried to be sarcastic and received extra blood tests that Raff had "meant" to do. He had a terrible time trying to find veins in spite of his having no trouble before. While each teen grimaced, Raff continued to poke at them until he finally chose the most painful spots on the boys to draw blood from.

After that no one bothered to fight with Raff anymore. He continued his examinations and questioning then sent them out with an infuriating order.

"I will see you again after you are done with the doctor. Go back to the waiting area."

Leaving each of the students in the paper dress they were each told to wear upon entering his office, Raff would send them back into the hallway.

 

Joff tried to demand that Polliver make things move faster. He also demanded to be allowed the dignity of clothing. Polliver laughed and shoved the baton end into the boy's stomach, pressing him into the wall with it.

"Golden baby with a silver spoon, I'm sorry, awfully fucking sorry to tell you this but...." Polliver looked all around dramatically before leaning into Joff to loudly whisper, "Mommy isn't here to suck my cock to make me be nicer to her lil Boopie. Shut the fuck up and stay against the wall or I'll flip up your paper smock. Let the girls see the tiny cock that makes you so cranky and nervous in your paper dress."

Arya gasped and muttered that they can't be allowed to act this way. Sansa tried to hush her sister but it was already too late. Polliver gave one last poke to Joff's stomach then left the wheezing boy to stand over Arya. "Are you his social justice warrior? Let me be very clear to you, little girl. You have no rights here. No privileges unless earned. You are in a legal no man's land and you are in Kevan Lannister's world now. You'll get used to it."

He winked at her as he tapped his baton gently upon her forehead to watch the girl squirm and gnash her teeth while all the boys laughed. Sansa was glaring at Polliver but keeping her mouth shut.

 

While Raff seemed to be entering their information into his computer and Polliver half dozed, Unella began to call names.

She did a full physical exam and neurological exam upon each of them. More questions concerning health and history then tests for cognitive function. Unella then gave them each a quick assessment test on their mental health. She wrote things down on paper, she added things to her computer report but gave no answers or opinions. Only after the woman was finished with her tests did she actually look at the teenage faces and speak directly.

"You may wait in the hall until the nurse can see you. I will send him any medications, therapeutic suggestions and your starter schedule. We will meet in one on one sessions as well as group therapy. As you progress, we will continue to change and asses your options here."

Raff called them each in as he received Unella's reports and added to them. The second visit to the nurse was shorter than the first. They were each handed a folder with papers in it.

"Times that medications are given are listed here. If you miss your medication time, you will be given a warning. If it becomes a problem, you will be disciplined for it. Meal times are also listed, if you are seen not eating, you will be immediately brought to the clinic for eating disorder assessment. We are used to disorders like that, we are also used to little brats that starve themselves in hopes of getting out of here. We use feeding tubes for those issues. I have also listed the times you will have therapy with myself and your appointments with the doctor. As well as all our scheduled therapy groups. Unless you are ill or have a written excuse, if you miss any of these sessions, you will be disciplined. Suggested classes and activities are going to be sent to your teachers and counselors."

 

To their horror, Polliver waited only until each student was clutching their folders before opening the door into the bright sunshine. "But..we aren't dressed!" Grinning at Sansa's outraged face, Polliver shrugged. "The prison jumpsuits have already been taken away. We are in a medical clinic, not a clothing boutique. Guess you'll all be walking to the dormitory in your smocks. Hold tight to the hems in the breeze, girls and boys. Let's go or I'll start taking smocks away to make you run instead."

Polliver led his embarrassed ducks past the several smaller white buildings until he reached one near the backyards.  He opened the blue colored door and waved them in. "New recruits share rooms. Piggy, Feral and Whore are the only ones allowed their own rooms. A privilege you can all work towards, your very own private room." He kicked open three different doors.

Using the baton, Polliver gestured to the girls to enter a room. He swept Theon and Loras into another room, Damon and Ramsay into the third room. He stared at Joff then at all the kids. "Joff bunks with one of the rooms. I don't care which one but he needs to have one. If you all haven't decided what room by the time Sandor shows to move the extra bed...all of you will be disciplined for it."

Ignoring the gasps and mutterings, Polliver bellowed out, "Rules, children! Our rooms are to be kept clean. No drugs, alcohol, weapons, electronics or any other contraband listed on your papers. I toss the rooms to check and please, I love it when you leave me something to find. I really do. There is a curfew, follow it. There is a lights out and a wake up time. Follow it. Read your rules, learn them like the gospel."

He gestured towards the dresser and closet in each room.

"Clothing is provided. If something is not in your size, please let me know. I might do something or not about it. Each of you have been provided with an outfit for every occasion needed here. You are responsible for your own clothing, for it's cleanliness and good repair. All of you will change into the jump suits then take a little time to read your rules. I will be back to hear where Joff is staying and then it will be time for supper. When I call you out of your rooms later, I expect everyone to quietly line up against the wall and wait for my orders."

 

Arya and Sansa stared at Joff then went into their room and slammed the door shut. Leaving the teenage boys to all start arguing about who had to take Joff.

Chapter Text

"This bed is fucking heavy, Polly. Can we just go and toss the bed randomly? I'll leave you to kill the flock unless you somehow need my help with the whiny bitches?" Polliver sighed heavily and gave Sandor a disappointed look.

"How do you have no sense of humor or joy in your life? Who hurt you? Oh, wait. That would be your brother that hurt you. I don't mean about the half melted face, I mean, Gregor has no true sense of humor either. If he's laughing, it's because someone is hurting, going to hurt or thinks they are about to be done hurting. But you don't even enjoy that. Do you enjoy anything?"

Sandor stared deadpan at Polliver and grumbled out, "Yes. I enjoy putting down heavy things that I am carrying. So if you want me to enjoy myself you'd let me put down this fucking bed." Polliver shook his head. "Not a fucking bit of humor. Man. Fine, let's go stop the squabbling ducklings."

They could hear Damon and Ramsay threatening Loras and Theon with bodily harm. They could hear Theon and Loras screaming right back at them that no amount of torture could make them take Joff. As for the little unwanted prick himself, he was banging on the girls door. They could hear Arya hollering curses back that made even Polliver and Sandor impressed.

Polliver bellowed to be heard over them all and swung the baton wide enough to force the boys apart.

"HELLO, ASSHOLES! EVERYONE AGAINST THE WALL OR THE BATON GOES AGAINST YOU! GIRLS, THAT MEANS EVERYONE! YOU HEAR ME, YOU OPEN EVERY DOOR AND YOU HIT THE WALL OR I HIT YOU! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!"

Sandor stood impatiently, waiting while Polliver hollered until everyone was pressed to the wall, staring at him. Polliver walked slowly past each of them, twirling the baton and giving them all a pitying look.

"Did my little ducklings have some trouble while the big duck was away? Are you all that fucking stupid that you FOUGHT instead of finding a solution to the problem? And girls, avoidance never solves problems, locking yourselves in the room didn't save you. Remember, I said that everyone would be disciplined if Joff wasn't found a room. Do you recall that?"

Sansa and Arya both glared this time and both had an instant outburst. "That isn't fair! We are girls, he can't bunk with us so why are we at fault?" "Why blame us, we wouldn't take the fucker if we could anyway!" Sandor sighed loudly as Polliver got a large grin on his face.

"Because, by not helping solve an issue in your tight knit little duckling world....it can make it worse for everyone in a heartbeat. Because the only choices here for you is to learn the easy way or the hard way. You want the hard way? Let's have it the hard way then, ladies. I concede that it wasn't truly equal. After all...if Joff wasn't an option for your room because he was male...not very equal of me, is it?"

Polliver nodded towards Sandor then a room. After the large man tossed the extra bed in the room, Polliver grabbed kids and started his own tossing. Sandor inched past until he could burst out free into the night and towards his own supper.

Grabbing Joff's neck with one hand and Arya's with another, Polliver threw them into one of the bedrooms and slammed the door shut. He then yanked Sansa into another room and then whacked Damon's side with his baton. "In the room, big boy, now." Damon stammered but moved as the baton poked the bruise. Ignoring the screeching of Sansa, Polliver slammed the door shut.

He then smiled at Ramsay, Theon and Loras. "Looks like you win the boys club room. Waddle on inward, ducklings." Unhappy, but not willing to risk feeling the baton, the three entered their new room. Polliver shut that door too, then strolled in front of the three doors. He bellowed so all would hear him clearly.

"WE WILL ALL LEARN TO GET ALONG. WE WILL ALL LEARN TO ABIDE BY THE RULES AND ORDERS WE ARE GIVEN. I WANT EVERYONE TO PACK UP ANOTHER PERSON'S SHIT THEN MOVE IT INTO THE HALLWAY. AFTER ALL BELONGINGS ARE EXCHANGED AND EVERYONE'S SHIT IS NICELY PUT AWAY WE SHALL GO TO YOUR SUPPER. IF YOUR SUPPER IS DELAYED, MINE IS DELAYED. IF MY NIGHT IS INCONVENIENCED, YOURS WILL BE TOO. SO I SUGGEST SHUTTING YOUR MOUTHS AND MOVING YOUR WINGS AND FLIPPERS INSTEAD, DUCKLINGS!"

 

Tyrion and Stannis checked each other one final time before the maid took them into the fancy dining room. "No amount of good grooming is going to hide that you are half drunk already." Tyrion chuckled at Stannis's stern expression and waved away the concerns airily.

"My dearest uncle expects nothing less of me, good Sir. He expects more of me than say, my father or sister do, but not by that much. Uncle Kevan expects me to obey orders, be loyal to the bone, to dress nicely and be prompt for public functions, meetings and fancy tiresome dinners when he is around. He does not expect me to be sober as a church mouse, thank all the gods. That would be the one line I am not sure I could cross for him."

Now Stannis had a tiny glimmer of a smile upon his stoic features and his grave voice had the slightest trace of humor to it. "So...if your uncle asked you to murder a student or quit drinking?" Tyrion gave a sad face and rolled his eyes to look up at Stannis as his voice was a mere whisper of regret. "That poor student...I would try to make it a quick and merciful death. Right after I took a bracing drink."  

The dry laughter carried them into the pretentious dining room. Kevan and his minions were not present yet, of course not. Guests were always left to squirm until the whitest, purest of Kevan's best suit entered. A crystal chandelier full of too many bright lights made a gracious invite to a migraine. Stannis squinted and complained quietly to Tyrion.

"They should use that chandelier for concert halls or for a lighthouse in dark waters." Tyrion nodded. "It bounces off the crystal glasses, glares from the golden dishes and imbues the white silk tablecloth, walls and curtains with a holy light that feels very unholy to my eyeballs." 

"I know the food here is fancier and certainly a better grade of meat. But I would rather have warm milk and cold casserole while listening to Gregor and Unella bicker rather than be here. That grumpy cook we have will come around sooner or later. Thank goodness that your uncle doesn't require us to dine with him every night he is home."

Stannis and Tyrion sat down next to each other at the table, the maid quietly serving them each a cup of coffee. Tyrion added a little liquid from a silver flask to his steaming coffee as Stannis watched then spoke grimly. "Had I known that my brother marrying that golden slut would lead me down this path...this is yet another thing I want to lay at my brother's doorstep. Too bad he is dead. I'd really like one last chance to argue with him about his poor choices."

"Really? I thought Robert made some very poor choices as did Cersei. But your path wasn't Robert's fault at all, Stannis. I would say the fault is yours. You took up with a priestess of some cult, your wife killed herself over it. Then the priestess burned your daughter alive because you broke up with her. Pain, guilt and scandal is what brought you here, Professor."

As Stannis looked down, simmering with suppressed emotion, Tyrion glared up at the stunning white suit flanked by two pastel suits.

"Leave it to you to enter a room with such a lovely way to add into a conversation, Uncle. No need to delve into why I am here. I am a dwarf, I am a smartass and a drunk that has no real use to my father. You are the only one who has ever seen my potential and can tolerate my height and drinking problem. Can we please have supper now? I am ravished."

Kevan gave a gracious smile and he sat down. Bob sat to his right and Harold to his left. With a slight pout, Kevan looked at Tyrion and Stannis. 

"That won't do, gentlemen. One of you sit on the other side next to Bob, please. I can't abide things being so unbalanced at my table. There. Better, thank you."

He led their meal off by saying a long prayer of thanks that made the maid despair of serving anything from the side table while it was still hot. Tyrion was nearly in tears of hunger and boredom as Kevan decided to name and offer thanks to all seven of the gods. He nearly lifted the bowl of soup and drank it when it was finally served. It wasn't until after the soup, salad and halfway through the main course, that Kevan brought up the new students.

"These are not the usual fare of students we receive here. They are spoiled, used to being pampered and coddled. It will not be easy for them. It will be very hard for Joff and he will try to find a way for his connections to us and to the outside world to make things easier for him. We shall not accommodate him, he must learn to obey us, to seek a better life for himself and our family. I am sure you both understand that all of these children are important to us. Their families are connected to ours if even in minor ways. If we work well with these children, these families will become even better connected. And these children will prove their worth to them and to us."

Stannis slowly put his fork down and looked over at Kevan. "Please tell me this isn't like that last time. I want to teach, not spy or trick a child into giving me secrets. You are well aware how I feel about those things. I asked you not to make me do that again."

Bob and Harold both frowned at Stannis with clear disapproval but Kevan simply smiled with kindness and empathy at Stannis.

"We spoke and I told you that I would expect you to bring me anything you've seen or heard. But I did say that you did not have to strive to learn things about the students for me unless it was an emergency. I stand by my promises to you as I always have. We shall let the other staff work upon our new children first. For now I just expect you to help these students learn and to become better human beings. If that changes, we will speak of it and get your conscience clear before anything else." 

Stannis said nothing but Tyrion gave a tiny drunken shiver at the veiled threat to his friend.

Chapter Text

Just as Unella locked her office door, Raff spoke to her for the first time all day except for work purposes.

"I'm telling you, Doctor, maybe lose the gray matron dress, add a little make up and stop slicking that blond thick hair back. You'd be a near model, well, except for your age. I don't think models work after they hit thirty. How old are you again, ma'am?" Raff gave her a mocking smile as he sauntered forward.

In the most indifferent voice Raff has ever heard, the woman responded as the nurse locked his room and the pharmacy.

"Young man, looks and fashion are fleeting and useless in the end. I mean, aren't you a perfect example of that? Handsome and young but here you are, stuck as a school nurse and therapist. You could have been a model or a fashion designer, married a rich woman or even just cruised along with a sugar mama?" Unella smirked as Raff turned red and stormed out into the warm night air. She followed him out, locking the door behind her.

Unella headed towards the cafeteria and kitchen which were housed next to the small school.

 

All staff ate meals there for free, same as the students. Before Hot Pie showed up, it was the duty of all the students to take turns cooking the meals. That meant the staff had suffered several nearly inedible meals and they ended up with three or four food poisoning epidemics. Two of them so bad it brought the entire school to its knees. Only Kevan and his men were left standing that last time since a private chef was installed at the main house. 

The last big food poisoning also caused the death of two students. Luckily, both of them were the cooks so they didn't feel too bad about having to bury them in secret. When Hot Pie finally was fully detoxed, he was able to fully begin his student chores. It was immediately discovered Hot Pie could cook and the staff damned near wept in joy behind their screen. Stannis had smiled, actually formed a full smile over the taste of chicken pot pie.

Polliver had looked up, his eyes glistening, full of hope for life. "That boy never leaves here. Ever. I will chain him to the kitchen and we will tell Kevan that the boy ran away." Sandor and Raff agreed eagerly, helping to form the plans to kidnap the student for their greedy culinary needs. For the first and perhaps only time ever in recorded history, according to Tyrion at least, Gregor and Unella shared a glance of agreement, full of goodwill formed by eased taste buds and tummies.

"I believe that for the boy to truly understand how to lose weight but eat well, he should take over as the full time chef. Gregor, do you think we can find an easier exercise program that allows Hot Pie to use a kitchen as a way to physically get fit?" 

"Unella, I do think we can find an easier program for the boy. The kitchen is a great place for sweating and lots of bending, lifting and movement shall be involved in it."

 

Never one to miss an opportunity, Kevan was the one to officially appoint Hot Pie as the new school chef. The boy was brought shaking into Kevan's actual house by Polliver, who was silently laughing. He did not bother to tell the kid why he was being asked for by their exalted leader. Kid probably thought he was leaving in a body bag, judging by his expression. 

Kevan had been shining and pleasant, offering the boy a seat on a couch meant for two. The gesture was not lost at all on the heavyset boy and he had turned red, nearly in tears. This brought Kevan to his side with a gentle pat on the shoulder and reassuring words.

"Ah, boy, do not fret so! My goal was not to only humiliate you but to guide you, my true and honest goal is to give you the tough love that no one has ever offered you. I am the only father figure you have and by all the gods, I intend to live up to that honor bestowed upon us both. Soon you will be so fit and healthy, it will be as if your fat will have been only a terrible dream. But that is not why I invited you here, my boy. No, don't look scared, I intend nothing bad at all! Not a single tiny itty bitty thing is wrong for you today, except that fat which we agree will melt off like a bad dream. So! Oh...dear me, uh, Bob? Would you happen to have an extra handkerchief upon you? The boy is in need...thank you, my fine man."   

Once the boy was composed, Kevan continued. "It has been discovered, Hot Pie. The true talent that lies within you, the thing that will become your passion and life's work is known! The meals you have cooked during your shifts have the staff and students all pleading for more. For now on, you are the sole school chef and that means all other chores you had will be given to others. You will be responsible for the staff and students meals, plus the coffee hour goodies. In exchange, since we know this is your skill set, I will pay for your cooking college after you have graduated our school. Then we shall find you the best of jobs as a personal chef. Isn't that wonderful, young man?"

 

Most days Hot Pie didn't feel lucky to be the school and staff cook. Even with others doing the serving, dish-washing, general cleaning and taking out of the trash, it was still quite a lot of work. His schedule had been created by both Unella and Gregor so his weight would be worked off even as he did nothing but kitchen duties and school.  That meant he carried in all his own deliveries, did all his own prep work, gathered his own herbs that he personally tended in the garden. It meant that all the burden of the meals were upon Hot Pie.

He woke before all the other students and went to bed later than all of them as well. Finally, it started to all go wrong and his schedule had to be adjusted. The boy couldn't stay awake in any of his classes due to his strenuous hours and work. Tyrion and Stannis passed him with glowing marks anyway for their selfish needs. They even stopped giving the boy homework in an effort to ease the stress. Then the worst thing of all, the food started to suffer. This was cause for an immediate emergency meeting for the staff. The children were given a half day free so the meeting wouldn't have to wait.

It was decided that Hot Pie needed to only attend math and language arts. All other classes were not needed and extra activities would be as limited as the boy wished. Hot Pie need only do gardening and his kitchen work to appease any and all needs for gym or creative arts. Begrudgingly, Unella said that the boy did need some time off or else he will become stale in his cooking ideas. Tyrion looked at the doctor in desperation. "Perhaps we could offer another incentive instead? I mean, can we pay the boy, perhaps? I know my uncle won't spare a cent for it, but we could all pool a little together each payday?"

Ideas continued to bounce, Polliver reintroduced his idea of chaining the boy to the kitchen and reporting him as missing. Suddenly, as if summoned by the mere mention of money spent, Kevan entered the staff meeting room. There was no choice but to explain why he saw children running about during school hours. Kevan pondered the situation for a moment then gestured to Harold and Bob. They all walked to a corner and quietly seemed to discuss the problem. Both men were nodding and Kevan seemed decided upon that. 

"Hot Pie will be given two days a week without any classes of any kind, no therapy sessions during those free days. He will be allowed to receive a reward ticket for a trip to town once a month. It will include a meal at any restaurant of his choice and a movie. He may choose a guest to go with him and Polliver will attend them, of course. I will tell him personally of the good news, of course!"

 

When the last batch of students graduated and it was only the staff plus Jeyne and Myranda, it got easier for the boy.

Hearing another six students were attending the school did not put Hot Pie in a good mood. It was more to cook for and he was letting his frustrations out within the meals. For two weeks, all have suffered foods at the wrong temperature, overly salted or unseasoned. All uninspired meals and the staff had been trying everything from bribes to threats to sweeten the boy's mood. Finally, the day the students have arrived, Hot Pie cooks with a better flare.

He does it only out of his own pride and ego, letting these new kids find out how good his food is. That way when they piss him off or try to bully him, they will know the loss of his good cooking. This idea was firmly planted in his head by Myranda and Jeyne, who also missed his good cooking. Myranda was already boasting of how she will fuck and rob each of those boys. Jeyne expresses her wishes to be left alone by the new kids by announcing that she will bite the first one that gets too close.

Myranda finished up adding ceramic dishes and real silverware to the staff table while Jeyne put out plastic trays, dishes and fork-spoons on the student table. They both put on their gloves and aprons as Unella and Sandor appeared. Unella had taken off her white lab coat but still wore the same gray dress that was a trademark of hers. She gave an icy stare to the girls and snapped out, "Hairnets, ladies. We have discussed this and the health hazard you pose to our meals. Please put on your hairnets. We shall wait."

While they waited, Sandor noticed the food. "It smells like the boy's regular macaroni and cheese, yes, I even see the bread crumbs and bacon bits are back on top again. I mean, the hot dogs are just hot dogs but the buns are toasted lightly...he made a broccoli pie too! Corn on the cob with a butter glaze. And is that...are those homemade tater tots? I don't know what miracle caused this, but Unella, I think we have real food again. Oh gods, I think that is a strawberry shortcake I see Hot Pie carrying."

Unella nearly salivated and raised her voice. "Let's go, girls! Hurry up and get those serving spoons moving!" Gregor and Raff nearly steamrolled their way up to the counter when they smelled the macaroni and cheese. The doctor and Sandor barely got out of the way with their full trays in time. It was almost a race to see who could get to the table and taste the food first.

 

They heard Polliver enter next, with a group of sullen teenagers in their new white jumpsuits.

"Hear me well, children. Everyone lines up, gets a tray, gets food served by the girls. Take it to the table, sit and eat. Finish and throw out your leftovers, stack the trays on the counter. As of tomorrow, you will each be assigned chores that will include being a worker for the kitchen, so I advise you to treat the kitchen as you wish to clean it. No yelling, no fighting, no fucking around. Get your ass in a line, grab a tray, that's it. Good, now-"

Suddenly the scents hit Polliver's nose and he ran over to the food to scan it. Then he yelled back to Hot Pie, "Good boy, Piggy! Thank you for coming to your senses before I had to chain you to the kitchen! Tonight after dinner, you come see me and I'll give you a reward for going back to good behavior!" Glancing at the students, Polliver shoved past them and got his own food.

"Okay, kids, now you can get your food and I swear to the gods, if you cause any disturbance to my meal, you'll regret it very deeply!"

Chapter Text

As soon as all the staff and students had their meals, the kitchen workers got their own dishes and headed to the table full of cranky teenagers. The three of them simply listened as they ate while the new kids all complained and bickered.

"I will demand to speak to my uncle and great uncle that this situation is fixed right after supper! There is no way that they can allow this rooming bullshit to happen! I'm not sharing a bedroom with this fucking little punk ass bitch. I want my own room and an apology from that bastard with the baton!" Joff banged his fist on the table but was ignored by all.

"This is entirely going too far. I will speak to that doctor. A female will understand why we cannot share bedrooms like this. Don't worry, little sister, you won't have to kill the spoiled brat, he is right on one thing. Even Kevan Lannister can't let girls and boys sleep in the same room! After we eat, Joff will go see his relatives and we shall go speak with that doctor." Sansa patted Arya's arm as the girl fantasized about murdering the bitching Lannister boy.

"Yeah, Sansa might be pretty and all...but I want my room with Ramsay back. I want to be with my best buddy. You miss me, Ramsay, don't you?" Damon grinned at Ramsay but the sadistic teen only smirked back.

"Are you kidding? You and Joff each get a piece of tail behind closed doors and you both complain? I get two pansies that bitch just like women, they flutter about and only do any of the chores if I make them. I want you back, Damon, of course I do. But I think as long as we have to suffer this arrangement we should at least try to make it worth our while." 

Loras and Theon muttered that they wanted a new arrangement too.

Ramsay had produced a blade from who knows where while in the bedroom and had threatened to flay both of them. They were informed by Ramsay that they would be doing all their chores and his too unless they wished to be skinned alive. Both were fairly certain they could deliver a beat down to the sociopath, but not while he had a knife. Nor could they be sure that Ramsay wouldn't get revenge upon them with true violence that might cause maiming or death.

Hot Pie and Myranda shared a grin and Jeyne gave a small jagged giggle as she dug into her macaroni and cheese. This made the group turn to look at the three strange kids. Sansa raised her eyebrow but Joff grimaced and demanded, "What is so funny, cunt? Maybe I'll ask my great uncle for your private bedroom. You can bunk down with the junior cunt."

Jeyne snorted and ignored the boy to continue her meal as Hot Pie leaned forward to respond for her.

"Didn't you hear Kevan earlier when you first got here? No special treatments and if you ask for favors from the staff, you'd better have a really good bribe or skill for them to help you out. Being connected or rich doesn't count here, at least to the staff."

Myranda smiled and fluttered her lashes at the new boys.

"Of course, we three have no problem helping for favors that involve gaining power, connections, pampering or cash. For example, I do all of Hot Pie's laundry and Jeyne makes sure his room sparkles. We do this because he not only cooks us delicious food but he receives tickets for restaurants and movies once a month and will take one of us with him every time. I get to skip therapy sessions and my own chores on occasion because I know how to please Polliver and Raff."

Sansa, Arya and Loras looked at Myranda's suggestive pouting lips with revulsion but the other boys leered.

"Do you just blow them or actually fuck them? Ow! That hurt, you bitch!" Joff glared at Arya who had slugged his shoulder hard with her small fist, finding his question disgusting. But Myranda simply chuckled. "I usually use only my hands and mouth on Polliver. But Raff is not only really handsome but a great fuck."

 

Even though the return of good food has sweetened the staff's mood, the arguments still flowed forth.

"Polliver, I understand what goal you were trying to achieve. But you simply cannot let that rooming arrangement continue. The girls must share a room free of males. It's detrimental to their health, it is also dangerous for those girls."

Gregor gave a sneer to Unella even as Polliver pouted over her order.

"I disagree. I think that those girls can hold their own, they did on the bus today. Most little girls hear my booming voice, see me and start to faint or cry. Hell, that fancy little boy Loras was crying before the redhead finally shed some tears. Her little sister was too busy arguing with her sister and the golden boy to be sad or scared. These are not kids that are used to hearing no, used to following orders because they are told to. They are used to pampering and coddling. This is their first taste of the harsh real world. Let them experience it. Polliver warned them and he could have simply beaten them all or cost them their supper. Instead he was creative, let's see where his creativeness leads."

Unella slammed down her coffee mug and glared at Gregor.

"It leads to trouble! The girls are sexual assault cases waiting to happen with this so called creativity! As for the three boys in one room, that must be changed as well. Ramsay and Damon are both dangerous predators, they have had several dropped charges in the past. They like to hunt, rape and possibly mutilate and kill females. Joff has actually managed to maim two prostitutes that were known to favor his father. Theon has an anger management issue that could cause the more dangerous boys to go after him. Loras is the weakest and an easy target but he also has a record for reckless behavior. As for the young ladies, Arya has an extreme problem with impulse control and is in need of anger management. Joff has a matching problem with the addition of being a vengeful sadist. Sansa is clever in a way that could be classified as dangerous. I believe from what I can see so far, she is a manipulator. It might not sound so bad that the girl might seduce Damon into doing her bidding, but he is a large boy that has learned to assault females from his best friend. Sansa is not a half of Damon's size if he gets aggressive with her. Can you imagine the damage he could do to her?"

Gregor made a sound of frustration as he leaned forward, meeting the woman's ice cold blue eyes from across the table.

"Woman, why do you always have to argue with everything? Why must you allow your diagnosis and your worst case scenario fantasies to get in the way of a good solution? I read these students with as good of an eye as you do, but without the fancy diploma. Doesn't mean we don't know what the fuck we are doing. I say we let this stand for at least a few days and see how they react. Gives us a good opportunity to see how they will learn to obey the rules and if they can control their worst impulses."

Raff, Polliver and Sandor enjoyed their meal while watching the two go nose to nose, snarling. It was a usual scene but always fun to watch. A free dinner show and anything that was free was always good to them.

 

Joff stared at the mostly silent girl sitting next to him and grinned meanly. "So, do you put out for favors too? Or maybe suck cock for a fast food dollar menu burger and a chance to see a meme on my cellphone?" Jeyne did not even turn to look at Joff but her soft monotone voice caught everyone's immediate attention.

"I would put out your eye with a toothbrush before I would let you fuck me. I have had a cock in my mouth before though. I thought it tasted rubbery and too tough to chew properly." Ramsay looked quite impressed, the girls smiled and the rest of the boys looked horrified.

It was made worse by every female taking a large bite of their hot dogs while grinning at the males.

Jeyne had removed her hairnet right after serving but her hair was still in the ruthless clutches of Unella's ponytail. Now she releases her hair from the confinement and allows the long black locks to cover her face, shoulders and middle back. Joff narrowed his eyes and his mouth twisted.

"That is disgusting. I mean, you have been sweating in the kitchen. And we are eating, my plate is next to you, dammit. If I find a single hair in my meal because of you, you'll regret it. All snarled and sweaty and why the hell is it in your face? You really are a feral, aren't you?" Jeyne remained quiet and intent on eating in spite of the hair covering her. Hot Pie looked over at her with some concern then he gave Joff a warning look.

"Leave Jeyne alone if you know what's good for you. When she suddenly pulls her hair in front of her face like that, it means she is getting overwhelmed. It means she wants to be left in peace before she explodes. Trust me, you do not want her to explode on you. Don't trigger her, okay? I want to finish supper and not have a huge disaster to clean up."

Giggling in a nasty high pitched way, Joff asked, "What, does she turn into the Incredible Hulk or something? No, she is a feral, right? Does she turn into a were-bitch or something? Maybe gets on all fours and starts to bark, piss on the furniture or goes swinging through the trees like a monkey?"

Sansa gave an uneasy look at the stiffening tiny hair covered girl and softly advised Joff to leave her alone. Loras echoed the sentiment and Joff ignored both of them. Ramsay, Damon, Arya and Theon all watched with wary amusement but backed up slightly from the table.

Myranda had enough time to say, "Uh oh, bad move, buddy."

Joff had reached forward and tried to move the hair out of Jeyne's face. "I'm talking to you, bitch, do you-AHHHH!"

 

As chaos sounded from the student table, Polliver slammed his fork down and snarled. "Dammit! I told them not to disturb my supper!" Gregor and Unella stopped arguing just as the screaming grew louder and crashing ensued. The dreaded words of Hot Pie brought all of them running, Polliver in the lead.

"JEYNE IS TRIGGERED!" 

Chapter Text

The kids all sat in shock at first, except for Hot Pie and Myranda. Those two stood up and flew to stand out of the way against a wall and Hot Pie bellowed that Jeyne was triggered. Joff screeched high pitched as he yanked his hand back, minus a portion of his finger. Blood was everywhere and that is when Sansa yanked Arya up from the table. Throwing her little sister behind her, Sansa grabbed a napkin and went to put pressure on Joff's finger.

She found herself on the ground, Joff on top of her and Jeyne ready with a chair high above her head. Damon came from behind the attacking feral and that was a big mistake. Sansa watched as the girl spun so fast it was a blur and that chair smashed the large teenager into the table. The chair broke over Damon's back and Ramsay's mouth was opened in a large O of amazement. He had stood up and pulled Loras and Theon with him as the girl began to attack Damon. 

Damon lay half on the table, groaning and the girl turned back to her original target, her bloody teeth gnashing. Sansa had just gotten out from under Joff and now he squealed and yanked her in front of him as a human shield. Arya hollered and grabbed her sister to pull her from the feral girl's path. For an absurd moment, Joff and Arya yanked Sansa back and forth like a tug toy. Jeyne tracked the redhead's movements with her darting, dilated pupils then launched.

Lucky for Sansa, Jeyne just tossed her into her sister and landed on Joff, teeth trying to bite into his face. Arya and Sansa staggered over towards Damon, who was just sitting on the table now. Bruised and stunned, Damon grabbed the girls and lifted them onto the table, out of harms way. Ramsay, Theon and Loras leaped onto the table to sit with Arya, Sansa and Damon before they got run down by sudden thundering staff.

"NO TEETH! JEYNE, NO TEETH!"

Gregor's roar got through just as Jeyne was about to make a snack out of the boy's nose. Jeyne settled for a quick chomp into Joff's cheek before crawling under the dinner table, growling. She was on all fours, snarling and pacing, watching the staff carefully but her eyes were wild still. Polliver glared at the students on the table and slammed his baton against the wall.

"Assholes! Do not disturb my supper was the order. Couldn't even follow something that fucking simple. And when shit goes down...that YOU caused...you what, dance on the fucking table? GET THE FUCK IN LINE AGAINST THE WALL! SEE PIGGY? SEE WHORE? DO WHAT THEY DO. HOW FUCKING HARD IS THAT? MOVE BEFORE FERAL DECIDES FOR ANOTHER MEAL AND I FUCKING LET HER!"

 

Unella grabbed Joff and quickly dragged him out towards the clinic, grumbling that he should stop sobbing, he just needed a little patching up.

Usually Jeyne did way more damage and the boy should be grateful he was saved in time. Joff switched to screaming for his uncle or great uncle to bring justice down upon the feral's head. As the doctor unlocked the clinic doors, the two professors came by after an intolerable supper with Kevan and his minions.

Joff ran away from Unella over to Tyrion, shoving his bloody finger in the man's face. Uncaring of the blood splattering from both his cheek and finger stump, the boy screamed with malice, spraying his drunk uncle with blood and saliva.

"Look! Look at my finger, my face! That feral CUNT was allowed to bite me, to eat my finger! They put me in a room with that Stark brat bitch and I DEMAND THAT YOU-"

The resounding slap made Stannis wince slightly but Tyrion simply smiled lovingly at the face print on Joff's face. When the boy started to yell at Tyrion again, he slapped his nephew even harder. Then as the boy stood there shocked, Tyrion spoke softly, reasonably and with a drunk pleasantness that just barely covered the simmering acidic anger.

"If you were unfairly treated by staff or bitten by Jeyne, I suggest you look at your own attitude and behavior to figure out why. My dearest nephew, you are as cruel, sadistic and bitchy as your own dearest mother. I am sure she felt that killing your fat cheating father qualified you for a medal but what of my other niece and nephew? They were innocent and you don't even care that they died. Even your mother had tears for her dead children but not you. I remember every time you filled my shoes with your shit or piss as a child when your father had to come crawling to my father for a place to live. I recall how you drowned your little sister's kittens just to watch her cry. When your parents were dumb enough to give your brother a puppy, you skinned it alive. Nailed it to a damned tree, the same tree you tied your crying brother to. I was surprised you weren't even a little sad at their deaths, I mean your favorite targets were gone. So are all the whores your father fucked. Not as much prey here for you, Joff. No sympathy or favors, either. Go with the doctor and get stitched up, then get back to your dorm. School comes early. Say another word to me that isn't carefully thought out and I will slap you again."

Joff choked on his blood and indignation as the professors kept walking and Unella grabbed his ear. "Inside the clinic, young man."

Out of mercy to herself, not the boy, Unella sedated Joff before working on him. She hoped that Raff and Gregor didn't have any trouble controlling Jeyne. The girl has come so far in the two years that they have worked upon her. Unella hates setbacks and she is furious at this little brat that set off one of her best cases.

She has been studying and working on this female feral, hoping to write a book on her as a miracle cure. This could finally be the thing that launches her back into the world. Away from this place, far from Kevan's clutches and Gregor's battlefield. Unella hurried through Joff's medical care, wanting to see Jeyne for herself. She should have sent Raff with Joff and dealt with Jeyne on her own.

 

Sandor ran into the hallway to a locked cabinet and opened it fast with his keys. He retrieved the emergency restraints and ran to toss them to Gregor. Sandor walked to block the exit he had used, hoping the girl didn't try to run through him. That happened only once. The first year Jeyne first showed up she caused chaos and physical injuries to students and staff alike. Sandor didn't even know he had a clavicle to break until Jeyne had cracked it with her head.

The feral is one of the most dangerous students to ever walk this forsaken hell home and Sandor didn't like to tangle with her. He generally tried not to deal directly with the students but in crisis there was no choice, everyone must help if possible. Bracing himself, he waited, fingering the taser he carried with him.

Every staff member kept some form of weapon of defense upon them at all times. They have had students do everything from try to escape, to attempting to rob the medication clinic. And some of their students have also attempted to attack or kill staff members.

Gregor was the only one that rarely carried anything but a beating stick or a thick strap. He had given Sandor the taser gun for his birthday with a sarcastic grin that made the younger brother pissed in a way he cannot truly express. Belonging to Kevan and his world was tolerable but being stuck under Gregor's boot was intolerable. But Sandor had taken the weapon and given a very gruff and brief thanks to his brother for it.

Sandor prayed the girl didn't run at him, he felt bad for the feral, just a project for Unella and a charitable curiosity for Kevan. He didn't want to add to her pain by having to use the taser on her.

 

Polliver had each kid pressed against the wall, crammed shoulder to shoulder near the kitchen door. The furthest from the girl he could safely move them. He shut and locked the kitchen door so Jeyne cannot get in there. Then he readied his baton and stood in front of the students, ready to defend his retarded ducklings. Jeyne hasn't had a bad episode in two months. She had small skirmishes with the students but no real injuries involved.

But he remembered that Jeyne used to be a fucking nightmare to control. He had to keep her in a muzzle around the other students for her first few weeks, hands cuffed even during class hours. Unella fed her through a tube that went up the girl's nose if Jeyne couldn't contain herself during meal times. Jeyne was constantly switching between hiding and attacking that first year.

She nearly castrated one boy with her teeth that tried to rape her after hours one night. Another time some female students were picking on her. Jeyne seemed to ignore it then one day while the class was assisting Sandor in building a shed, she took the nail gun to the girls. Other times she would hide in the woods or the roof or dumpsters and it would take the entire staff to search her out.

The girl has managed at one point or another to injure almost every staff member. Even Gregor had suffered a few bites and bruises from the girl in the earlier days. Right now, Jeyne looks as if she has regressed and Polliver moaned internally. This would be an awful time for the girl to revert, while Polliver needs to keep a close eye upon their new recruits. He watched as Raff crouched down next to the long table that Jeyne was under. Polliver sent up a silent prayer that Jeyne will respond to Raff.

 

With a soothing smile and a silky smooth soft reassuring voice, Raff spoke to the panicked feral girl. He crouched low next to the table, one hand curled around his own defense weapon. A syringe full of a fast acting sedative that will knock a person out for about fifteen minutes. Jeyne has been in therapy and under Raff's medical care long enough for the man to know to keep his distance. He has calmed her in the past, enough to sedate her and as time went on the girl would respond to Raff's verbal cues to calm down.

Raff sees her eyes are blown, she isn't really in control right now, her panic and feral nature have taken over. He keeps out of reach, looks at her with eyes of calm authority and speak softly with a tinge of affection. This voice works on Jeyne most of the time but when she is upset like this, it is a hit or miss.

"Hey there, Jeyne. What happened, sweetie? Did that boy scare you? It's alright. He's gone. Unella took him away and everyone is quiet, calm. See? I need you to slow your breathing, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Good girl."  The girl seemed to be listening, her breathing changed and Raff began to relax slightly. "Why don't you come here to me, Jeyne? Come here, sweetheart, come see me. We can go for a walk and talk about it, or just look at the moon, okay?"

Jeyne started to inch forward and Raff smiled, extending his empty hand to her. His other hand was ready with the syringe, once she took his hand and went to stand with him, that is when he can sedate her fast. Just then, incredibly, one of the new students did the exact opposite of what they were told to do. They were told to stay silent and still. When Jeyne is in feral mode and tracks, startles, just like an animal. 

Just as Jeyne almost reached Raff and took his hand, there was a scuffle and a sharp voice from the line of students.

Polliver instantly reacted and the student was silenced but it was too late. Jeyne hissed and darted away from Raff. She flew from under the table and Gregor cursed as she managed to slip just past him. Gregor and Raff kept a distance but circled the girl as she tried to desperately find an escape route.

Jeyne has herself trapped in the center of the room and is eying a window as if to crash through it. Raff's voice was still calm but there was a slight bit of concern and wariness to his tone now.

"Jeyne, don't do it. Remember the last time you jumped out of a window that wasn't opened? How much glass we had to pull out of you? It hurt very bad, you cried and screamed. Stay away from the window, honey. Come on, sweetie, you don't want the students to see this, do you? It's time for you to calm down, let me help you. Just come here, just like you were going to. Jeyne? Want to take my hand and we will leave together? Hmmm?"

The hair covered girl kept moving, keeping them both at arms length and she snarled at the nurse. 

"Liar. Pants on fire! Lie, you lie! You have a needle, no walk, a lie and a needle! Trickster! You are such a pretty liar!" Raff grinned at the compliment, aware the girl had a crush on him until she figured out Myranda was fucking him for favors.

"Such a clever girl. Yes, I have to sedate you, Jeyne, you are not in control of yourself. You already know that, honey. Now, I am the easier way, just come here and a quick pinch. Let the pretty liar hold you and stroke your hair while the sedative works. It's better than the hard way. Gregor is the only other choice, Jeyne. You know how he feels about when you act too feral, sweetie. Better to come to me, Jeyne."

"Liar! Needles and lies! Pretty face and lying sweet voice, do not touch me!" Sighing, Raff gave an apologetic look to the hissing, angry girl and shrugged. "I tried."

 

Gregor smiled broadly as Jeyne faced him and he spoke with a rich voice as if he were a jolly old Santa.

"Guess that means its my turn! The hard way is sometimes the only way. We both know that, right, little bitey girl? That is alright, Unella and Raff don't understand you as much as I do. The boy set you off and those teeth had to chomp, you had to run on all fours and act like a fucking animal all over again. I told you what would happen the next time you bit off a piece of someone, didn't I? Do you remember what I said I would do, Feral? You remember, don't you? And you know that I don't lie, Nanny Gregor never tells a lie, does he? What does Nanny Gregor do, Jeyne?"

The girl was watching Gregor nervously as he stalked around her and he saw that switch in her eyes from panic and rage to fear. "I am speaking to you, Jeyne. Use your fucking voice unless you are truly an animal! What does Nanny Gregor do, Jeyne?"

Shivering, twitching, the girl's voice was strained, each word blurted out. "Nanny Gregor keeps his promises."

The large bald man nodded. "That's right. I promised you a very bad thing would happen if you bit off anymore pieces. And you bit off a piece of that whiny boy's finger. So what do you think is going to happen now?"

With a gasp of horror, the girl sped towards a wall as if to lean against it and Gregor gave a loud chuckle. "Too late for that, silly girl and you know it. I am going to restrain you and then Raff will give you the sedative. When you wake up, it's going to be time for Nanny Gregor to keep his promise to the bitey feral girl."

Jeyne gave a roar as Gregor came for her and she did manage to get a few feet away before she was caught.

 

The students watched in amazement as the feral tiny girl actually climbed the large man like a mountain and leaped off him. Gregor twisted around fast and grabbed the girl's long hair, wrapping it fast around his wrist. Jeyne nearly scalped herself trying to yank away and then her head was crashed into the wall. Pinned by her head, Jeyne growled and screeched, her legs and arms flailing while Raff carefully inserted the needle into her strained neck.

Gregor stared over at Polliver and the row of ducks while he kept Jeyne in place until the sedative kicked in.

"Polliver, I don't know which of your fucking ducklings decided to be a class clown but we shall be addressing it. Once I get Jeyne ready for her discipline, bring all the kiddies to the show. They can use the example of what happens when you are out of control. I want the ducklings to learn that if Nanny Gregor gives a promise, he keeps it! And then I want to personally see the duckling that thought their attitude was more important than anything going on."

Arya began to hyperventilate a little as Polliver and Gregor glared at her. Well, fuck.

Chapter Text

Polliver hurried the ducklings into the clinic to line up at the medication counter.

"Piggy and Whore go first. You two are excused from the show and any discipline since I know you two would never be so fucking stupid as these fuckers. Clean the mess in the cafeteria, fix up the kitchen then take the night off, dears. And Piggy, don't forget, drop by my place tonight for the reward. I am only sorry that all these ducklings decided to turn into assholes on the night you choose to give us good food again. I only got halfway through my first plate."

Myranda and Hot Pie took their medication from Raff, who was handing out tiny cups of pills along with tiny cups of water. Raff's movements and words were automatic, robotic.

"Pills in mouth, water and swallow. Open your mouth. Good. Any questions bring to the doctor during your appointment. Go away."

Any attempt of the ducklings to discuss any medications was met with a cold smirk, bored eyes and a repeat of bringing the problem to the doctor. Sansa tried to push it and Raff sighed. "Okay, anyone with questions that cannot wait may line up on the opposite wall."

Polliver watched with a sigh as almost every kid lined up on the opposite wall. He crossed his arms and shook his head, stupid ducklings have to learn the hard way and waste his time.

Raff smiled and he gave Loras his medication. That was the end of the medications to be doled out. Then he called out, "Anyone lined up to speak with me I will assume is here because they are embarrassed about a severe constipation issue. Therefore, I shall be setting up warm enemas for any student that is lined up to see me."

Both men laughed as every student flew back to the other side of the wall and started inching towards the exit.

  Unella burst out of the office surgery with a nearly limp and foolishly grinning golden idiot. She held tightly to Joff's neck as she dragged the boy over to Polliver. "Here, Polliver. I gave the boy a sedative earlier and now he is on some painkillers."

Unella shoved the boy at Polliver then raced out the door, heading for Gregor. She had heard Raff and Polliver discussing that Gregor told Jeyne he was keeping his promise. That was not good at all and could cause serious regression that might be permanent.

 

Unella showed up just in time to see Gregor restraining a still out cold Jeyne to his punishment chair. It was a high back wooden chair designed to take a thrashing. With arms and built in restraints of the toughest leather straps. They can restrain at the ankles, calves, wrists and forearms on the arms of the chair plus a strap that goes across the entire chest. Gregor had built it himself and it was always a favorite for him.

 "Wait! Wait, what are you doing? I  have clear outlines on what we would do in these situations with the feral!"

Gregor had stormed right past her then spun around to poke a thick finger into Unella's outraged face. He began to back her up slowly as he thundered his words upon her like an angry avalanche.

"NO, YOU HAVE OUTLINES ON WHAT YOU WANT TO DO! YOU TRIED SHOCK THERAPY, YOU STUFFED HER WITH EVERY PILL YOU COULD THINK UP AND GAVE HER SO MUCH THERAPY THAT THE GIRL FEELS LIKE A PROJECT! IF I HAD TO CHOOSE BETWEEN BEING A PROJECT OR A FERAL, I WOULD PICK BEING A FERAL TOO! ITS TIME TO STOP THIS BULLSHIT NOW! I MADE HER A PROMISE, YOU HEARD ME DO IT, THAT LAST TIME WHEN SHE BIT OFF A PENIS, UNELLA! YOU RESPONDED WITH ELECTRIFYING HER BRAIN! FAT LOT OF GOOD YOU'VE DONE THERE, FAIRY FUCKING SHOCKMOTHER! POLLIVER AND RAFF HAD HER IN THAT MUZZLE FOR WEEKS! WHEN I FINALLY TOOK THE DAMNED THING OFF HER EVERY MALE STUDENT TRIED TO RUN AWAY FROM THE SCHOOL!"

The woman tried to leap in front of Gregor to undo the straps. Gregor gave a fierce grin as he lifted the stunned Unella and dropped her behind him.

"No! My turn, woman. I understand about your fucking book but I actually want to turn the stupid feral into a stupid fucking human. Fuck off. Write in your journal that tonight you lost to the Nanny's Promise therapy. I bet my results will be better than yours."

 

Stannis was over Tyrion's small cabin locked in a very intense game of war, played upon a table painted to represent the world.  The windows were open to let in a very nice breeze, Tyrion's lemonade was heavily liquored and Stannis's was heavily sugared, perfectly suited to each. Things were peaceful then they heard the familiar hollering of Gregor and Unella. Tyrion sighed, "Ah, the music of our nights has begun." Stannis shook his head and frowned but continued his concentration upon the game.

The window allowed words to enter upon the breeze and both men froze, eyes wide, staring at each other. Stannis cleared his throat and stammered, "Did I hear that right? Is Gregor keeping his promise to Jeyne for biting? She can't...she won't handle that well, not at all." Pained frustration and shame crossed his face and his fingers tightened on the table. Tyrion gave a sympathetic look to his friend then a guilty look towards the yard as he got up and firmly shut all windows.

"There is nothing we can do, good Sir. I wish it were different. Maybe...maybe it will help. Hell, isn't any worse than what Unella does to her. Actually, it is less painful  than what Unella would do probably. I mean...I know it's extreme considering the poor girl just can't help herself...but miracles do happen. And we both know that we have seen Gregor do some good."

Stannis was not reassured by Tyrion's words. He started to pace, agitated, thinking of his own daughter that he utterly failed to help. Tyrion said nothing, knowing where Stannis's head has gone. It has happened before, many times. Stannis paced and ranted for a moment.

"I have seen all of us do some good...and I have seen us all do incredibly bad things too."

Tyrion drew himself as tall as he could and looked insulted. "I resent that. You do us both wrong, Professor. I would say out of every staff member here we are the kindest, most reasonable and certainly the least abusive! We earnestly wish to assist them in their education as much as we can. We do not torture in any capacity, we do not-"

Stannis slammed his fist on the table, disrupting the entire war game, possibly causing an apocalypse as carved pieces rolled, bounced or slid about.  "WE COMMIT THE GREATER SIN! WE IGNORE, WE LOOK AWAY! ONLY HELP AS MUCH AS WE CARE TO GET INVOLVED! BECAUSE WE DARE NOT!"

The man ignored his friend's incredulous stare at such passion from such a stoic personality. Stannis took a second, sipped then put down his sugared lemonade with a look of dismissal to anything sweet this night. When he spoke again, it was in a calmer but painfully honest tone.

"That poor creature has been wronged by adults all her life...that hasn't really changed. Kevan keeps her like a curious exotic pet and Unella treats her like a lab experiment. Gregor is going to use her as an example for the new students. And what do we do? We sit here and play games then tomorrow we will pretend to teach her something in class. If she is even capable of making it there after tonight. And if she does make it there, we pretend to not notice whatever has been done. Like we do with all of the damned students. Get me a damned drink, Tyrion! One of your lemonades this time, if you please."

Tyrion grinned and hurried to get the drink before Stannis thought to change his mind.

"Well, that is the best idea you've had all day, Sir! And I do beg to differ! Several students have left this school with an excellent education from us, from you! Some learned skills here that help them to this day. Yes, they may be eternally tied to Kevan or whomever they are sold off to, but sometimes it's a very long leash, an expensive one at that!"

Tyrion handed Stannis the drink and offered dubious reassurance. "Think of this at the very least, if it weren't for your classes, dedication and tutoring, Raff would never have been a nurse."

With a terrible shudder, Stannis gulped half the drink in one quick movement. "That is not helpful."

"Perhaps not, but the drink is. Now help me fix this table back to order after you finish that drink. Then I will make you another once this is all set back to rights. Good grief, Sir, what did your fist of misplaced justice do? Korea is now in full control of France and Sweden has engaged Africa in suicidal combat!"  

With strong spirits, a riveting game and an opera turned up loud, they almost didn't hear the heart wrenching screams and almost managed to focus on their game.

 

Hot Pie stormed around the kitchen, crashing things more than cleaning them. Myranda cleaned up the cafeteria and winced at the screams coming through the window. She was not as close to Jeyne as Hot Pie but all three have sort of become used to each other. Myranda did feel bad for Jeyne but not enough for her to feel the need to bother with anger.  

Tears of rage and frustration, his voice choked with empathy for the strange girl who has become his friend, Hot Pie bitterly cursed the staff. He continued his tirade the whole time they cleaned. "I shouldn't have even given them this one night of my good cooking back, they don't deserve it! Why should I slave away for them? Fuckers! It's not Jeyne's fault! She was fucking provoked and they know, THEY KNOW, she could have done way worse! But she didn't she stopped herself in time!"

Shrugging as Myranda put the mop bucket away, she spoke with a bitter sweet singsong tone. "That is why Gregor is keeping the promise. Because she has done it before and might do it again. Recall what our beloved Feral bit off last time, Hot Pie. Men don't take that shit lightly, hell, even you were afraid of her for awhile after that." Hot Pie frowned and shook his head.

"Not for a long time, I got over it. Jeyne never did that again and she rarely bites anymore unless provoked. They don't have to keep tormenting the shit out of her. It doesn't help."

With a small tinkering laugh coming from that poisonous honey tone made Hot Pie think of fairies, pretty and glittery, all playfully tormenting a field mouse to death, Myranda responded. "No, it does help. One way or another. If they don't cure us then they will scare or humiliate or hurt or beat us down until we just surrender. They wear you down, if need be. We should know, right?"

"I will never cook them anything but shit ever again. I will make separate meals for you and Jeyne but those spoiled, provoking kids and our  sadistic, damned staff can eat whatever slop I fucking toss together! I hate this place! I hate all of them!"

When everything was done, Myranda and Hot Pie headed towards the woods, away from the chaos of discipline. She produced a joint and together they shared it, trying not to think of what Nanny Gregor's Promise would mean for poor Jeyne. They could only hope it won't make her any crazier than Unella already has with her treatments.     

 

Chapter Text

Polliver dragged Joff in one hand and twirled his baton in the other.

"Alright, ducklings. See that dirt yard with the lit torches? See that wooden chair, the really uncomfortable chair that Feral is restrained to? I want you to all line up here so you are facing her. Nanny Gregor is kind enough to offer the children a free show before nighty-night time! And kiddies, around here if someone offers anything for free, you best take them up on it. Line up, waddle into place, flap those flippers!" 

He shoved Joff against Arya and stuck his nose in her face. "If he moves, if he falls or is disruptive in any way, both of you will feel my displeasure. You have already earned a special backstage pass to this show, I wouldn't push your luck any further, little recruit." Arya bit her lip but said nothing as Polliver strolled to see if the others were silent and standing straight. "I want silence. I want still, silent children that pay attention. You will watch. I want still, silent children that pay attention and watch."

Raff strolled over, carrying a small medical kit for emergencies as always. Whenever anyone is disciplining a student, Kevan insists on the kit being made immediately available on the mere in case it might ever be needed. As far as Kevan is concerned, it's use has been quite minimal. The nurse gave a smirk to Unella as he strolled past her to stand near Polliver.

The doctor's fists were tightly balled in rage and her face was a frozen snarl. She had no recourse, Unella would never dare interrupt Kevan over such an issue. Gregor had Raff and Polliver always on his side and the professors never got involved. As always, she was on her own and had no choice but to give way. Unella did concede that she won a goodly amount of her battles against these assholes.

That thought allowed her to step back, fold her arms and glare at Gregor with disapproval. "Fine. If she regresses, if this harms her in a permanent way and Kevan is displeased, it is all on you. And I swear, if the girl is injured, I'll-" The giant had turned to restart his fight with Unella when a scream ripped through Unella's words.

 

Jeyne had woken and it only took seconds before she understood. Screeching, thrashing, her black hair flying, whipping through the air, Jeyne was full blown hysteria in action.

Gregor faced the screaming girl with a large merry smile, kindly twinkling eyes and his voice was loud but ever so pleasant. His large hands grabbed the narrow face and forced her still for a moment. "Look at me, Jeyne. Shut up and look at me before I squeeze your face until I break something. Look. At. Me."

When Gregor had grabbed the girl's face, he had pushed the black strands out of her pale features. With a whimper the girl looked slowly up at Gregor, her eyes full of fear and a snarling caged anger the others didn't quite understand. Regardless of the look in her eyes, Gregor gave her a bright smile and spoke like a gentle preschool teacher speaking to a naughty child that finally did something good.

"Now, see that? I say look at me and when you comply, I can see it. It's nice to not have to wonder what goes on under that hairy safety blanket of yours. No matter how many times Unella tries to yank your hair back, you pull it down again. Nice to have a shield, a haven when everything becomes too much. I understand that. But now we are eye to eye, aren't we? Yes, we are. What did Nanny Gregor promise would happen if bad bitey feral girl bit a piece off someone again?"

The girl struggled but Gregor refused to release her head or stop staring, boring into her eyes. Finally, the girl sagged and blurted out a response.

"Nanny Gregor promised to take a piece of me if I bit a piece off someone else."

"That's right. And I always keep my promises, Jeyne. I have picked the piece you are losing and it's a perfect one. You are going to scream,cry, tantrum and thrash all you can. I understand and forgive you the embarrassing spectacle you will become in a moment. Just remember, it is for your own good."

Gregor moved back from the girl, allowing her to yank her face away from his touch. With a huge shit eating grin to Unella, he pulled out his choice weapon of the evening. Unella covered her mouth with her hand and closed her eyes. This will have such consequences on the girl, she just knew it. The students all gasped as one when they saw the flash of a straight edged razor and Jeyne went back to thrashing and howling into the night.

Gregor smiled benevolently and gestured to Raff. With a cooing soft voice, Raff caught Jeyne's head and restrained her. "Don't make it worse, love. Stay still and breathe."

 

Except it wasn't that easy for the girl and they could all see that. Even with Raff trying to keep her still, Jeyne managed to make her hair fly. Gregor grabbed the chunks of flying hair and then they were in Jeyne's lap. She froze when he threw thick blankety ropes of black hair on her, just stopped moving, screaming, breathing. Raff became a bit concerned when Jeyne turned purple and her eyes began to bulge. 

Unella stepped forward and snapped, "Gregor, enough! Look at her! She isn't breathing, Raff, check her pulse, get her-" Gregor spun around and shoved Unella back with one hand. He glared at Raff who was no longer restraining the girl's head, but checking her pulse. "Uh, Gregor...she really isn't doing good, I think I should-" "Back away, moron!" Gregor hollered but by the time Raff registered the words, the girl he thought might be catatonic already had her teeth in him.

With a laugh, a full Santa Claus seeing a baby reindeer walk in the snow drifts kind of a laugh, Gregor watched Raff try to not lose his ear to Jeyne's rage. Howling, Raff punched Jeyne in the head so he could stagger away holding his bleeding ear. Unella snarled at him for whacking the subject in the head and didn't bother to help the injured nurse. Crossing her arms, Unella watched as Raff staggered over to the medical kit to use it upon himself.

Polliver gave his friend a pitying look and clucked out, "Oh, that is just not right, man. Hey, at least it was only your ear and not your cock? Looks like she almost took your earlobe almost off. That will mess with your looks..." Raff seethed as he tried to stop the bleeding and then he snarled at the smirking children. "What the fuck are you all staring at me for?" That caused Polliver to turn and smack the baton into his hand as he stared down the students.

"Is our injured nurse the free show you were offered? No? Then put your fucking peepers where they belong!"  

 

Gregor gave a thunderingly loud burst of applause to Jeyne as he came closer. His cheer was sounding less like a nanny and more like a super villain who is about to kill the hero for good. With a voice that has now reached an epic manic level of happiness and a smile that nearly ate his whole face, Gregor spoke to the girl.

"Yes! There we are! There is the feral bitch! No more hiding behind your hair, Jeyne! You want to be angry or scared, you'll have to do it without a shitload of fucking hair to hide you! Go ahead, thrash, try to bite me if you want to, girl. Course, you'll pay for it but why do you care about that, right? You are a tough little creature, just a fucking beast, a thing for Kevan to put a leash on and a lab test for Doctor Frankencunt. So go on, let it all out while I finish getting rid of your hair for you. If you insist upon being a feral little freak, then you might as well look like a freak all the way!"

Jeyne screamed and thrashed and Gregor let her. His razor flew and his fists were full of hair as well as skin and blood since the girl wouldn't stay still. "Gregor! Don't scalp her, let me restrain her head, dammit!" Gregor glared Unella away and when he needed to get closer to Jeyne's skin, he grabbed the small jaw hard. Holding the girl as still as he could, Gregor ruthlessly continued his assault upon her head.

Now the girl started to burst into heart-wrenching sobs and howls as blood trickled down her neck and face. Gregor seemed immensely pleased by this and started to hum a lullaby as he worked.

Sansa, Loras and Theon found themselves with tears in their eyes suddenly. The sounds of Jeyne's anguish were so awful and it was clear that Jeyne has been shorn of her one true comfort and defense. It was clear the emotional devastation and it caused even Arya to squirm and wish it would end. Damon, Joff and Ramsay remained silent, but their eyes were filled with something darker and the screams only made them harder in another way.

 

The moment Gregor finished and the girl was left bald and bloody, he released the restraints and stepped back calmly, waiting. Jeyne burst out of the chair among a cloud of black hair. She clutched it all, trying to sweep even the hair up that fell into the dirt, whimpering, sobbing. Gregor walked over to the small fire pit he had going and gestured to Jeyne. Shaking her head wildly, Jeyne tried to dart away clutching the hair like it was a teddy bear.

Gregor moved faster than any student could have thought possible. He had Jeyne by her neck with one hand and dragged her towards the fire pit.

"No, no, we aren't done yet, sweetheart. Throw the hair into the fire, freaks don't need hair. What good has hiding behind all that hair done you so far, Jeyne? Made you think it keeps you safe from something? It didn't though, did it? No, listening to Nanny Gregor about biting might have saved you and the hair...but you didn't listen, did you? Now throw that shit into the fire, right now."

Jeyne roared and clutched the hair to her chest tightly, trying to curl up into a ball. Gregor forced the girl's thin arms forward then held her wrists in a crushing grip. "I will break your wrists, girl. Drop the hair into the fire." With a screech of pain and defeat, Jeyne let the hair go. It stunk as it burned and Jeyne screamed as if she herself were burning alive. Gregor let her go and the girl wrenched away then turned and did the unthinkable in her extreme upset.

The girl raced with great speed as if to leap into the fire and retrieve the hair that was already mostly gone. Gregor grabbed her at the last second just as Unella almost had heart failure. Then she had another near death moment when Gregor held the girl's head over the crackling fire. Not close enough to burn her but enough that the girl would feel the extreme heat, the sparks would burn her in tiny flashes.

"NO! BAD! ARE YOU A FREAK THAT JUMPS INTO FIRE NOW? ARE YOU FIREPROOF, STUPID FERAL IDIOT? DO YOU WANT THIS? TO BE A BURNT AND BALD FERAL FREAK? HUH? WANT THAT, FREAK? ADD A LITTLE EXTRA FLAIR TO YOUR FUCKED UP LOOKS AND BEHAVIOR? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT, FREAK?"

Then Jeyne shrieked and words finally came of her own violation.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I AM NOT A FREAK!"

Gregor dumped Jeyne on the dirt, keeping himself in the way of the fire pit. The girl curled up in the dirt and sobbed, beating the ground with her fists. The large man crouched down and spoke in that preschool teacher tone again.

"Hate me all you want. Build a fucking alter and make a voodoo doll of me. But prove me wrong. Show me you aren't a freak. Some poor fucking charity case, a fucking feral that isn't worth helping. Prove me fucking wrong, Jeyne. Try it as a new therapy. Might save you some dignity and some brain cells before Unella fries them all."

 

With a sigh of mocking sympathy, Gregor patted Jeyne's shorn head, smearing the blood and causing the girl to wail and try to squirm away. "Alright, Jeyne. Are you sorry for not listening to your Nanny Gregor?" A strangled yes, she was sorry came out as Jeyne tried to cover her face with her hands. Gregor smacked her hands away from her face.

"Nope. We didn't go through all that for you to keep your hands in front of your face. If I see you walking around that way, I will cuff your wrists behind your back during day hours. Wear a hood or a hat during very sunny days, otherwise, you will let the world in, Jeyne. Like I said, prove me wrong. Now you may go see the doctor for your cuts."

Unella beckoned to Jeyne but the girl screeched and fled. Gregor shrugged at the doctor and drawled out, "At least she didn't run away on all fours. Already an improvement. Guess she isn't in the mood for your help, Unella." 

Gregor's mocking laughter followed Unella as she stormed off to try and find the girl.

"Now...where are my very bad new children? Where is my provoking little shit and my loud mouthed other shit?"

 

Chapter Text

With a barely contained mirth, Polliver pointed his baton at Arya and Joff.

"Ducklings, time for your special extra time with Nanny Gregor! Aren't you just the luckiest fucking things, to get a private audience before your first class with the man! Go on, drag the boy if you have to, Pumpkin. There you go, don't you look pale, what's wrong, girl? Get a move on!"

Arya looked nearly green and Joff was starting to clear enough to understand that danger was imminent. She inched towards the large man who stood with his legs apart and his hands behind his back. Joff dragged his feet but Gregor simply stood silently, waiting for the two to come before him and for the others to leave.

Sansa watched nervously, her hands twisting her hair, tears in her eyes. Ramsay and Damon had brilliant glittering eyes, clearly waiting for another great show. Loras and Theon gave Sansa sympathetic pats while shooting dirty looks at the budding sadists. Polliver rolled his eyes and then turned to glare at the ducklings.

"No more free show for the rest of you! Time for us to get you all ready for bedtime! Only two of our ducklings get special Nanny time this evening and if any of you were smart you would be happy about that. I want a nice orderly waddle to your dorm house, move, move and fucking move."

Polliver watched everyone move while staring back to see the two students standing in front of a smiling Gregor. Except Sansa, who just stood there, staring anxiously at her little sister nearly eclipsed by the giant.

 

Polliver stuck his face in Sansa's and tilted his head, his eyes looking confused as if she were a new breed of stupid.

"Sweetling, I am very sorry to disturb your lamenting over your iddy biddy widdle sissy, but we are fucking MOVING! Flap those fucking feathers and get in line now or I will use my baton to help your ass get all the way to the dorms." Sansa gave Polliver a tearful pleading look and burst out, "Arya is only fifteen! You can't just leave her out here to be...to be..."

The counselor groaned and shook his head. "Oh, Sugarbuns, Princess of the Dramatic Pretty Things....go on. Please, tell me what I am leaving the fifteen year old out here to be...what? Raped? Beaten, burnt, mutilated, murdered? Cannibalized? I think you need to shut your mouth. You should worry more about yourself, dear. After all, you weren't sent to our school because you are babysitting your little sister, yeah? Now, since you want to do things the hard way...MOVE!"

Sansa shrieked as the baton hit her ass hard and she leaped into the line. A few more whacks, lighter but still stinging and shocking, kept her from looking back as she nearly ran towards the dorms. For giggling at Sansa's punishment, Polliver added a few choice baton strikes to Damon and Ramsay. They entered the dorm house and all lined against the main hall wall.

"Well, hey, at least you all remember ONE thing today. I hope your minds work faster soon, kiddies. Or else you'll be in special class time too. Now, on a normal night when all are behaving, you would come here on your own...you would be allowed to use your rooms or the main common room here. You could wander the grounds or jerk off in the bathroom until lights out. Raff comes by with your sleep medication fifteen minutes before I call curfew. Nice and peaceful. Tonight won't be like that. Because you all became fucking idiots. So whether you each personally feel innocent or not, I warned you that if anyone was bad today...all would pay for it. Right?"

 

Gregor didn't move while Polliver herded his ducklings towards the dorms. He didn't move while Raff staggered off, bandaged and muttering. Staring hard at the two mere children shivering in front of him, he offered a wonderful smile that could eat them in one bite. As Gregor stayed still, the kids squirmed, they started sweating and looked like they might faint or vomit from anticipation alone.

When five minutes went by Gregor spoke in a booming voice that caused both Arya and Joff to leap into the air. The smile only widened at that as Gregor spread his arms with joyful animation.

"OH MY DISOBEDIENT NEW FAVORITE CHILDREN! TWO LITTLE MOUTHY ENTITLED BRATS THAT NEED A NANNY TO SLAP THEIR HANDS WHEN THEY GET NAUGHTY! A STERN LECTURE, PERHAPS? BUT LUCKY FOR YOU, I AM YOUR NANNY NOW! NANNY GREGOR AND I AM THE DARK SIDE OF NANNY POPPINS!"

Arya and Joff took a step back and the boy was slightly behind the girl, clinging to her back and arm. Gregor chuckled and pretended to dramatically peer over Arya at the cringing boy. "Boy? Are you hiding behind this little girl from the Big Bad Thing?" He gave Joff a kind look and gestured with one hand as if calling to a timid child.

"Come see Nanny Gregor, Joff. Stop hiding behind the mouthy little brat and let me see your boo boo's. I promise that Nanny Gregor doesn't bite like that bitey feral girl. It was scary, wasn't it, little boy? So sorry that happened to you, sweet golden prince."

Joff was trying to stay behind Arya but the girl grimaced and tossed him forward.

 

The boy landed before Gregor and scrambled to his feet. His voice was a whine and it was thready with a mix of fear and arrogance. "I had to get three stitches in my cheek and she bit off some of my finger! That doctor couldn't reattach the fingertip! I am maimed! That isn't my fault!"

Gregor crouched down and seemed to intently study Joff's bandaged cheek, the wrapped, stunted finger. He nodded with complete understanding and sympathy, his voice dripped with it.

"I see that. That will scar something fierce and any douche bag looks you might have had are ruined now. Well, you can try for the bad boy look, maybe. And that finger will always be a little fucked up. Guess it will be harder to give someone the finger now. You will have to use both fingers so you can offer a fuck and a half. Buck up, Sunshine, things will get better. If Jeyne can live as a bald feral freak then you can live with a scar and fucked up finger, can't you?"

Joff sputtered with indignation but cowered under the sheer menace of the giant. Gregor smiled in a friendly way, as if he were a neighbor telling a friendly joke over the suburban lawn fence.

"Say there, don't you worry. You are going to get used to the changes in your world, in fact, it will do you some good. But, in this new world you find yourself in, there are some changes you will find very hard. Like accepting fault and consequences for your own actions. Wow, buddy, that one is gonna rattle and hurt, but Nanny Gregor is going to get you through that. So let us start there."

 

Standing tall as a mountain, Gregor's face changed in the blink of an eye. His face became carved granite that offered no mercy, no empathy and nothing to bargain with. The voice was no longer jolly, this was a deep gravelly demanding avalanche that is preparing to bury it's victim. As he boomed forth, the mountain loomed over the boy, bending him backwards until the boy fell on his ass and remained there, cowering under Gregor.

"WHY DID THE FERAL BITE YOU, WEASELLY LITTLE SHITHEAD? WHAT DID YOU DO TO PROVOKE HER? DO NOT TELL ME THAT THE GIRL JUST CAME AT YOU FOR NO REASON. THAT STAIN WON'T WASH OUT, BOY. I KNOW THAT GIRL AND SHE HAS NEVER BITTEN WITHOUT A DAMNED GOOD TAUNT. AND SHE NEVER TARGETS MORE THAN THE PERSON WHO WAS BEING THE FUCKFACE THAT TRIGGERED HER. SO TELL ME AGAIN, JOFF. WHO IS AT FAULT FOR YOUR FUCKING SAD PATHETIC INJURIES? NOT JEYNE, YOU. YOU PROVOKED THE GIRL. YOU HAD TO OPEN YOUR FUCKING MOUTH AND MAKE FUN OF THE FREAK, RIGHT? THEN YOU TOUCHED HER, LIKE A FUCKING FIVE YEAR OLD TRIES TO TOUCH A ZOO ANIMAL. ARE YOU FIVE, JOFF? DO YOU NEED MOMMY HERE TO HOLD YOUR HAND AND YOUR COCK FOR YOU, SWEET PRINCE? GROW. THE. FUCK. UP."

Joff's face was a mix of horror, indignation, insult, terror and humiliation. Arya tried to hide her smirk under her hand but the mountain shifted and stone eyes sought her out. It was a mere glance before Gregor turned back to the boy but it was enough to wipe her grin away. That look was a "you're next" and Arya shuddered at the reminder. She only hoped that she could maintain way more dignity that Joff has. He looked ready to piss himself and Arya was disgusted.

 

Gregor reached down and pulled the quivering boy to his feet and dusted him off. His look has changed and the jolly malice was back.

"Don't lay cowering in the dirt, honey. The big meanie isn't going to stomp on you. No, sweet prince, we don't want you to have anymore owies. You just stand right here and consider what Nanny Gregor said. What happened to your cheek and finger is your own fault. Because you are a little boy who tried to taunt and touch a wild thing. Mommy coddled her boy and protected him from any consequences. Bet any zoo animal you touched that tried to hurt or scare you, Mommy had shot and killed in seconds. Now that we had to say bye bye to Mommy and all the good wishes and fun times with daddy's whores, skinning kittens....now baby boy has to own up to his own little fucking pussy problems. You taunted the girl. You touched her. You got hurt for it. End of story. For now on, if you fuck up, sweet prince, then you are fucked back. Understand that? So I want you to stand right here and think upon that."

Gregor left the boy with his mouth open, tears streaming, fists balled in rage, face brick red with insult and fear. Arya took a deep breath and tried to stand tall as the mountain came crashing upon her.

 

Polliver walked the row of students and studied each of them carefully, the look on his face worrying all of them.

"I gave a very simple order, didn't I? Do not disturb my supper. Now, you will each think, but wait, I didn't cause the blond fucker to set off the girl. True, that is very true. However, another simple order I gave today was...if something happens that qualifies as an emergency, you go to the wall. You don't get involved in the problem, you don't hang around to watch the fucking problem, you go to a fucking wall. Did any of you do that? No. Nope. I don't think so."

Stopping in front of Damon, Polliver looked the boy up and down, not in the least concerned that the boy was taller, more muscular, like a brick wall.

"Are you here by accident? Should you be in some institute where they make superheros or mutant power masks? Just because you have size doesn't mean you have brains, boy." Polliver tapped the wide chest and then walked over to Sana, pinning her with his eyes.

"Saint Sansa, how is it you are so helpful, passionate and just so peachy keen perfectly willing to be involved for the greater good? Someone needs to stop worrying about others and worry about her own pile of shit."

Polliver stepped back and smiled.

"Saint Sansa and Super Damon will receive three strikes each with the baton for being so helpful and for not going to the wall. The rest of you will receive one blow for not going to the wall and just watching the fucking fuckers fucking fuckery! Everyone face the wall, palms flat, legs spread and ass out. Oh, drop your pants first! Don't worry, Sansa, I only want your bare lily white ass, not any other part of you. And if you are afraid of my accidentally seeing or touching your delicates, Raff just walked in with the night medication. So now you have a nurse as a witness. We do strive to accommodate all your needs and wishes!"

 

Each of them had bright red faces and not a single one managed to stay silent. Damon didn't make sound until the last whack, he let out a strangled cry then. Sansa yelped at each strike and actually gave a small jig of pain, her small fists slamming into the wall. "Don't worry, Princess. The bruises are only on your ass where no one will see them. We wouldn't want to hurt your pretty face, now would we? Shut up and sob all delicately. Sorry, but I have no hanky for you, sweetness."

Loras cried out at Polliver's strike, Theon gave a gasping high pitched sound that seemed to make Ramsay stare at him intently. That made Polliver give Ramsay a particularly hard whack that made the boy holler. "Pull your pants up, naughty ducklings and get in a line for Nurse to give your nighty night medications. Move!"

They moved very fast in pulling up their pants and turning around. No one looked at each other or at the men smirking at them. Sansa and Loras wiped their eyes discreetly and Theon sniffed, hiding his face. Ramsay had a sneer on his face towards Polliver but kept his eyes lowered and he stayed close to Theon. As if to stalk him and Polliver gave a bright smile to the idiot boy.

Each student took their pill without a problem then stepped back, careful not to let their sore buttocks touch the wall. Raff looked at all of them after with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. His eyes looked glazed over and the upset over his bandaged ear was causing his usual smooth voice a bit of strain. 

"Those sleeping pills will kick in within an hour. Be laying down by then or you might fall and wake up headfirst in your toilet. I will see everyone in the medication line first thing in the morning. Do not be late or you will be held accountable for it. During the day, I will see each of you in private therapy, do not be late to my office. I will also see you in circle therapy in the afternoon. Be on time. Have a good evening, ducklings. Can't wait to hear your new names. Polliver always finds the perfect one for each of his charges."

Raff left and they all looked questioningly at Polliver.

"Oh, yes, the names. Like Whore, Feral and Piggy, remember them? Yes, you see, here we want to focus on your main issues and help you change them. Don't worry, ducklings, there is always a chance to earn your name back. But tonight isn't for the naming game. No, not yet. We still have to get our ducklings all tucked in nice and tight. You all had a very big day and need your rest. And bad ducklings don't get to stay up and play, they go to bed early and think about their naughtiness. And tonight, each of you are getting a special tuck in!"

Chapter Text

Arya felt like her neck would snap off as she stared up at the jolly sadistic giant.

"Now, tell your Nanny Gregor exactly what made you ignore your orders? You were told to be still and silent for a reason. That feral could have done much worse than she did...her therapist almost had her under control. But then some moron had to just flap her flippers and honk her beak, some impulsive little ugly duckling! So...what made you decide to ignore Polliver's orders, darling little rebel? Hmmm?"

Swallowing thickly, Arya's eyes darted around to see Joff smirking at her then a large hand encased her face. She has never been pulled forward by her face before and it was not an experience that Arya ever wanted to repeat. Gregor removed his hand and enjoyed the shock in the girl's eyes when she found him crouched and in her face. His teeth were huge, gleaming and in a smile that reminded Arya of a shark.

"Pay attention to me, not to the little asshole. Since you don't want to talk, since now suddenly you are a fucking deaf mute, I will tell answer the question for you. You were so giddy over seeing the pansy hurt, so invested in whispering to your sister that you lost interest in orders. It must be hard for you, little girl...I mean, what a perfect family you have. But all that goodness and talent just passed you by, didn't it? Sansa is a pretty, clever thing, I bet she is popular with everyone, good grades, prom queen, the whole package, right? Then there was your brother Robb, handsome, strong, your little brother Bran who is so damned smart, already skipping into high school classes at twelve! Such an impressive family...and you. Awkward social misfit, too wild, not pretty, not clever, not popular or good grades, where do you fit in? So you launch yourself into trouble, become the rebel, the loud mouth and throw yourself into being the odd ball. But it doesn't stop there, does it? Driving without a license, stealing family cars, smoking weed and shoplifting. Skipping school, getting into fist fights and now, finally, you helped cause deaths. And here we are. Right? Have I got it all right, Arya?"

Narrowing her eyes, Arya nearly whispered, "How do you know so much about my family?" Gregor went so close his nose touched hers and he whispered back.

"I know everything I need to in order to help my wayward students. Anything I don't know, Unella, Polliver, Raff or someone else will discover. You are caught, you are found out, it's already been accounted for and noted, sweet summer child. You have been measured and found wanting. All faults are going to be revealed and then once you have decided to change your fucking ways, you will see everything so much clearer. You will see what an arrogant little punk you were, you will see the road you were heading down and you will thank Nanny Gregor for all his loving help."

Gregor stood up and spread his arms out to grab onto ears and yank the children to a different part of the yard.

"That's enough of a chat for now, my little troublemakers. Time for some Nanny Gregor style discipline!"

 

Polliver directed his ducklings to put on their nightclothes before their story time. He grinned as the expected objections came as the children all discovered the same humiliating pajamas. They all lined back up, disgruntled and red faced, sneering with disbelief at their silly nightwear.

"Now don't any of you look that way! I will have you know that Bob took the precious time out of his day to lovingly crotchet those pink caps with the adorable fluff ball on the top. Harold worked hard to make those pink bunny slippers, so treat them with care and respect! As for your pink nightgowns, all reminiscent of a long gone era when all wore the same long pink cloth sack, those were ordered and tailored by the order of Kevan himself. Enjoy them, learn to love sleeping in them. Now, all sleepy time ducklings are to go to the living room. Quickly, quickly, I want a circle of ducklings on the floor, sitting without quacking or ruffling feathers. Good. A quick bedtime story for you all then off to night night land. Pay very close attention."

It took a few moments for the students to figure out how to sit in their voluminous and uncomfortable nightgowns. Polliver's pacing boots and twirling baton caught attention soon enough as did his voice.

"Now ducklings, this story is called the curse of sexual assaults here at our school. Urban legends exist everywhere, even here. We have two of them that we are going to hear about tonight, kiddies. The first is...what happens when a sexual crime is committed here. Now, legends and truths often get all mixed up. The two I can tell you are utterly true are about Myranda and Jeyne. Each of them were attacked here...once. The poor idiot who attacked Feral...well, she bit off his penis. The moron who tried to rape Myranda ended up with a fractured skull and one fuck of a case of chlamydia."

With a loving and gentle smile, Polliver sat in the center of the circle and made eye contact with each of them as he continued.

"The ones that no student wants to see if it's urban legend or the truth...are the ones about what the staff can do. If there is a sexual assault, rumors say that the doctor orders medical castration. It has been said that Gregor once castrated a boy like a pig, took one of his nuts off after it withered away. I have heard students whisper in the past about an unfortunate female student that attacked boys. They say that Raff performed genital mutilation on her but I am sure that isn't true at all. I am sure none of the staff horror stories are true. The one I know isn't true is about the boy who raped a student and was brought to Kevan then never was heard of again."

The kids shivered and stared at Polliver in horror as he gave a chuckle and slapped his knee.

"Aren't scary stories before bed fun, children? Now, one last urban legend for us to think upon then it's lights out. I can nearly hear Ramsay and Damon's squirrelly fucked up thoughts from here. But...what if they were to sexually assault someone in the room and make sure it's kept silent, not noticed. Well, that is a thought, right? I mean, we have no cameras in the bedrooms or the adjoined bathrooms. Good point. That leads us directly to our next urban legend. Legend has it that we have a mysterious night worker here. The Tickler. He is a fucking trollish looking monster of a guard that keeps an eye on our student nightlife. Those ducklings that behave will most likely never see him. Bad little ducks that are trying to sexually assault someone or causing other fuckery will see him and wish they'd never had."

Polliver gave a smile that was full of very bad things and he gently spoke of them.

"Rumor has it that The Tickler likes children. A real lot. He likes to hurt them, he likes to scare them...as much as he can get away with. Since The Tickler is only seen by the worst of naughty ducklings doing the worst of things...well, sometimes those kids are not seen for some time. If the crime is bad enough, they might never be seen again. What The Tickler does with the tender young children? Who knows? Just a legend, of course."

He stood up and stretched his back. "Luckily for all of you, the medication will knock you out long before anyone can attempt to prove any urban legends wrong. But soon you won't need medication to sleep, then you'll have to make sure to watch our for that Tickler."

 

Gregor listened to the lovely sounds of anguish, he lovingly tracked every bead of sweat on the girl's face, smiled at the sight of the boy's tears. He was relaxed, the night breeze was just perfect and it was the perfect night for some Nanny Gregor discipline.

Sipping at his iced tea, Gregor watched the bitching, moaning children. Once he had lit the circle of torches for some good ambiance, Gregor had handed each of the children shovels and indicated the soil at their feet.

"Here is the game, darlings. Pay close attention now. Do you both remember the talking stick or some other bullshit in school? Yes? The idea is you can only speak freely as long as you hold that shovel. And you will dig a hole with it while you get all your questions, smart ass comments, swears and threats out. Say what you need to and dig. Begin."

At first the children smirked and began to dig, swearing, saying anything they wished about how they were going to find a way to bring the whole abusive place down. They called him cruel, they said about their parents suing the school, both even screamed insults at each other. Then they started to tire out and that is when the fun really started.

"Oh no...getting tired? Nope, I think you have more to say and more to dig. Keep going." When the children started to lag, Gregor gave them both a water bottle and made them chug it. "Keep digging and now that your throats aren't dry anymore, you surely have more to say."

The children finally dug in sullen, tired and agonizing, aching silence for ten good minutes before Gregor told them to stop. Both dropped their shovels with tired bitterness. Gregor smiled at them kindly.

"Good children. Now, jump into your holes please. Let's see how far your voices have dug yourselves."

When Joff didn't move fast enough, Gregor tossed the boy into the hole. Arya scowled but glared at the giant as she got into the hole. The boy was up to his elbows and the girl was up to her shoulders. To their horror, Gregor began to dig the dirt back into the holes.

Once the kids were firmly packed in, he put the shovels away. Arya gave a sigh and Joff gave a nervous giggle.

"He...he can't really mean to leave us like this, right? I mean...all night? It's not...it's abusive!"

"No shit, fuckface. Haven't you figured out they don't care if it's abusive yet? Shut up, here he comes!"

Gregor yawned and looked up at the moon.

"Well, this has been so much fun, but I am really beat. Watching so many idiots today has really tired me out. Nanny Gregor must have his beauty rest. I will just take a little nap and be back to check on my ducklings! Don't think to try and dig yourselves out and go running off. The Tickler comes out at night and he loves naughty roaming children. I am sure Polliver will tell you the story if the other students don't. Have a nice chat, kiddies."

Both Joff and Arya watched in disbelief as Gregor left and they were alone, buried in dirt.

 

Hot Pie made sure to wait until he saw Polliver leave the dorms before sneaking in. He ran to his room and slipped into the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. A dose of eye drops and new clothing before he felt all evidence of the joint was gone. Following the well lit pathway from the student house over to the staff houses, Hot Pie went to Polliver's. He stared at the small cabin and then climbed the three steps to the tiny porch, knocking on the red door.

The door opened and Polliver stared hard at the boy while drinking his beer. 

"What?"

"Uh...you told me to come see you after hours...for a reward?"

Polliver stared at the Hot Pie in silence until the kid shuffled his feet uneasily. Then he shrugged and waved his hand in a shooing manner. "It's late at night. You should be in bed, not bothering me. Go away, Hot Pie."

With a huff and a bitten off curse at being tricked, Hot Pie turned to stomp down the stairs. Serves them right that he will never cook for them again after-

He stopped dead and turned back to stammer at the smirking Polliver. "What...what did you call me?"

Snorting, Polliver shook his head. "Losing your hearing, Hot Pie? Go to bed. And remember, if you want to keep deserving your real name, you'll keep that cooking up. Soon I'll give a recommendation to Kevan about you having your own cabin, training to be our school chef comes with benefits, boy."  

The man went inside and slammed the door shut. Grinning, Hot Pie headed back towards the dorm, already thinking of a new menu. When the bushes rustled nearby, the boy gave a tiny nervous glance and hurried back to the dorm.

Chapter Text

It was a lovely sunrise. The grass was dewed and sparkling, flowers and vegetables all yearning towards the strong growing sun.

Arya yawned, cold and stiff, yanking her blanket fully over her. The blanket snuggled close and drooled on her ear. Shrieking, Arya sat up, tossing Joff off of her and rubbing the slick off her ear, kicking at the repulsive jerk. Joff kicked back and then they both blinked in the early light wondering why they were laying on the ground. Seeing the holes nearby, Arya recalled that Gregor yanked them out after an eternity. They had been too sore and tired, limbs numb and they just fell asleep where Gregor had tossed them.

A shadow appeared over the two and a stern frown accompanied an even sterner voice.

"Young lady and young man, it is entirely improper to be outside embracing and wrestling at this hour. I would think after last night's punishment you would wish to remain out of trouble. I will see that whichever professor has detention duty today is aware both of you will be joining him."

Joff opened his mouth and Arya slapped a hand over his mouth as Doctor Unella stormed past them, her gray dress flapping with purpose. Narrowing her eyes, Arya hissed, "Shut up. I don't want to be in anymore trouble because you want to open your mouth. I'm going to shower and go to bed before we have to be up." Joff waited until Arya stood up and then he knocked her down. Stepping on her back to launch into a run, Joff hollered, "We share the bathroom! I want the shower first!"

 

The fighting took extra time and both barely finished showering before Polliver was whacking at doors with his baton.

It was clear by Polliver's smile that watching Joff and Arya lean half asleep upon each other amused the shit out of him. The others all leaned tiredly against the wall, those powerful sleep tablets were still not fully out of their system yet.

"Good morning, ducklings! Look at your happy well rested little faces! You all have twenty minutes to finish getting all gussied up, darlings. Quick to the taffeta, bows and prettiest shoes, hurry! We have the medication line and breakfast. If you would like to have some extra time getting ready then start waking earlier, now move, waddle and quack while you move! Clothing appropriate for your higher learning!"

Polliver went to get a cup of coffee, leaving the screeching children to fight over showers and privacy. Whistling, he thought of what their reactions will be to their new names and he made sure he had his black marker on him.

 

Myranda pouted as she slammed trays down on the cafeteria table.

"It's not fair! You get your fucking name back! Feral gets out of morning chores over a bad haircut and what do I get? Nothing! Not a fucking thing for staying out of trouble!" Hot Pie smirked and said, "Uh, you get plenty. I take you out nearly every month for movies and dinner. Raff and Polliver let you get out of almost anything when they can, they get you weed and booze...and you are the ONLY one who gets to leave for weekends at a time!"

Scoffing, Myranda poured ice water into a steel pitcher for the staff table and muttered, "I work hard for those extras from Raff and Polliver. As for the  few weekends, it's work not play, I told you that before. Spa treatments and expensive clothes aren't fun when you have to pretend to enjoy old men. I'm there to please and to listen, to spy and pretend I enjoy being motor-boarded by some old rich fucks. Kevan doesn't even let me wear any jewels or clothes they buy me once I get home. He just wants to hear that I did my job, he wants to hear secrets and then I get chucked right back here with you and Jeyne. Kevan is all full of promises but it never comes true. And if you think Polliver gave you back your name out of the kindness keep in the cockles of his heart, you are sadly misguided. The staff wants you to cook and Kevan won't let Polliver chain you to the kitchens by force."

Hot Pie scowled and told Myranda she was jealous. Just as Myranda went to throw a tray at Hot Pie's head, Polliver walked in.

"Whore, get me coffee. Whatever tray tossing game you are playing can wait. Course, if you happen to hit Hot pie with anything and he is delayed in our meal because of it...I'm taking it out of your thin syphilitic hide." With a venom filled smile, Myranda fixed Polliver's coffee and handed it to him. "It isn't fair, Polliver. Not fucking fair." One eyebrow went up and Polliver sipped at his coffee. "Oh? What isn't fair, cupcake?"

Myranda stabbed a finger towards Hot Pie who was expertly flipping omelets.

"He gets his name back? Because it keeps him cooking. Feral gets out of her morning duties because she got shaved? Because bald heads are impairing or something? I give more and do more than either of those two and I get nothing." Polliver chuckled and pinched the angry girl's cheek.

"Honeybunches of Herpes, I only let you blow me after Raff gives me a full paper of your most recent physical and blood work. Raff only lets you fuck him because even with condoms, he doesn't mind taking chances. If you choose to stop offering the favor of the occasional handy or blow job, I won't be upset. I just won't give you the things you ask for. No harm, no foul. What you offer isn't needed. The boy, he cooks, he gives our bellies peace and without his food, we would all starve. He is needed and if he serves our little happy community well, then rewards do come. Now, as for Feral, she didn't have morning duties because she is dealing with Unella. Would you rather be with the good doctor this morning? I doubt it. So shut up and hurry back to work, Whore."

A quick but gentle tap on Myranda's ass with the baton and the girl reluctantly moved. She remained silent but as soon as Polliver left, Myranda threw a tray as hard as she could into the wall. "Fucking cocksucker! Rat faced bastard! I should take a page from Jeyne's book and bite that bastard's cock off! Have you cook it up like a nice sausage dinner for me, Hot Pie!"

Gagging, Hot Pie stopped frying the breakfast pork links and gave a look of horror to Myranda. "What a fucking horrible menu idea. Fried Polliver Dick. It would be the first time not a single soul would show for supper."

 

Jeyne was sitting in Raff's office fully covered by a voluminous sweatshirt and hood. Raff burst into laughter as Unella stormed out of the clinic. "What did you do to anger the doctor, sweetie? And look at you...where are you under there? It can't look that bad, Jeyne. Come on, let me take a peek?" He stayed leaning against the door, hands in his pockets. The girl shook her head and spoke with a soft mutinous tone. 

"Doctor Cuntella is pissed. Won't speak to her. Gave her the finger so she knew I wasn't in shock. Fuck her. Fuck Gregor." Raff burst into laughter but it trailed off as Jeyne continued. 

"I will get them. I will take a piece of them away too. Not a body piece, a mind piece. A hurt piece. I will."

Raff tilted his head and spoke in a soft voice.

"I can see how angry you are at them, Jeyne. They took away something that was important...but it really was just a defense. Hair grows back, Jeyne. Fingers, penises and throats don't grow back. Do you see a difference there, Jeyne? They are trying to help you, as much as it hurts or scares you. They are trying to build you stronger, make you into a stable person, a safe person. Why get yourself in trouble trying to hurt those that are helping you? Why don't you take a week or two before you try any revenge, okay? See how you feel about it then and we'll discuss it. I'm going to get the medications set up, why don't you get over to the counter and be the first in line today. Now I won't ask you to remove your hood but you can't wear it during meals or class time or therapies."

Silently, Jeyne stood in front of the counter and dutifully took her medication. "Good girl. Now, head to breakfast and I want you to sit between Hot Pie and Myranda. I'll see you at therapy later on. Since I can see the strain you are under, ask the professors for a pass to come see me if things get tense for you. I would rather see you here to talk before things escalate to discipline. Hear me, Jeyne?" With a nod, Jeyne fled and Raff sighed, hoping for at least a full breakfast today. With a group of new students and Jeyne still upset, it was already going to be a busy day.

Raff smiled as he set up each new student's morning medications wondering what lovely new names they will come in with.

 

Polliver watched each student press against the wall and he went down the line, critiquing.

"Sansa had fucking time to braid her hair, isn't that lovely? And you smell delightful. One teensy problem, pretty duckling. This is your one good dress meant for special occasions. I guess Kevan must have lost your invitation to tea today. Goodness me, guess that means you can put on your jeans and white collared shirt like every other fucking common duckling. Go do so, fast. Be careful not to ruin your lovely plumage!"

"Arya, how is it that your sister is all ready for the institution beauty pageant and you couldn't find a brush to run through your hair? Lucky for you, I have my fine toothed steel comb! It is one that Raff uses to check for lice but I am sure this will work just fine. Oh, stop whining, you'd know it if I was really scalping you, girl."

"Joff, no one wants to look at your hairless prepubescent body, finish buttoning that fucking shirt."

"Oh, Loras, don't you look fabulous! Sweet ums, I think you are confused. We aren't attending a model shoot, we are going to breakfast then school. So fix the collar, button up, roll the sleeves down and tuck it in!"

"Theon, if I already told Loras and Joff to button up...and I see that Arya wasn't the only one who lost her hairbrush...these curls are going to be murder in this comb but it can't be helped."

"Now Ramsay...collar straightened perfectly. Buttoned up nice. Regulation perfect, down to the shiny new sneakers. The raging hard on poking out of your jeans does ruin the effect though. Is your soldier saluting me, Ramsay? Are you using both heads today to give me your fullest example of paying attention? Do I excite you, boy? Is it the baton twirling or my dulcet tones? Or is that erection built from the yelping of your fellow classmate? Oh, there it goes, yup, deflating like your dreams of ever getting out of this hellhole before dick pics go out of style."

"Damon. Poor child, are you...are you...special? My poor overly large window licker, can you tell me what happened when you tried to dress yourself like a big boy? I said yesterday that if something didn't fit to see me about it. You look like you are waiting for a flood. You also look pained. I hate to ask this, sweet stupid Damie but...where are your balls and cock? Did you manage to squeeze them up your ass? Have you lost your junk but gained an amazing falsetto? Sing some arena rock for me, my rock star...get your ass back in that room and find whatever pants do fit you! Later on I will bring the right size jeans and a padded fucking helmet with glow in the dark stars on it for you."

 

When the children were fully ready and lined against the wall, Polliver smiled gently at them and held out white tags. Polliver went down the line and slapped one on each chest while asking each child to announce their new names.

Joff sneered. "Princess? Are you fucking for real?" A baton tap to Joff's collarbone made him go silent but he glared, full of indignation. "All your life was a fairy tale, mommy kept you safe and pure and cared for. Protected and she hid your bloody hands rather than smack them. Princess."

Arya cleared her throat, red faced and blurted out hers. "Target." Polliver nodded and gave the girl a smile. "Your need to be a rebel without a pause puts you in danger. Those impulse issues are going to be a big problem in your life, luckily, we are here for you, Target."

Loras sighed. "Goldilocks?" "Just like the little girl who thought it was fun to wander inside a home of bears...you like to leave your high society glitter and go slumming, be a little wild. So you wander where you don't belong, drink, drug and fuck around where you shouldn't instead of using your own good standard life to your advantage. And where did that get you? It got you leading your sister and boyfriend down the wrong lane...they got eaten by the bears, Goldilocks. We will teach you to not try so hard to find danger."

Damon frowned and muttered, "Side Bitch." Polliver patted the broad shoulder and spoke very carefully as if to a slow child. "All your crimes, all your problems were from following someone else. Your daddy was a crooked cop for the Boltons and no matter what your mother said, you wanted to follow in his disgraced footsteps. Robbing stores with your little buddies, being pressured into bullying and douche-baggery by friends like Ramsay. It was fun to use a whip, to hunt screaming girls, right? Ramsay has shown you so much fun. You are his little bitch, doing whatever fucked up thing he wants and look where that got you? I hope for your sake you stop being Side Bitch before your main bitch brings you down too far for anyone to help you."

Ramsay's eyes glittered in rage as he stared at Polliver. "Death Row." Polliver clucked sympathetically and tapped the baton upon Ramsay's cheek lovingly. "Yes, sweet boy. Death Row is your new name because that is what your fate is going to be if this school can't help you. How long can your father hide a rapist killer like you? A fucking mad dog that will eventually get caught and put down. So this might be your last chance to keep yourself from taking that long last walk in prison."

Theon moaned and read his name out loud with great reluctance. "SuperD?" Polliver smiled and caressed the pale cheek.

"D can stand for douchebag, douchenugget, dickhead...so much more. I know that acting out with your fists and mouth seems to make you feel bigger, badder. And I know that being a masochist in an abusive household must have been very fucked up for you. But drugs, drinking, stealing cars with buddies then knocking up half the wharf girls...getting into school fights that got you suspended. Must have gotten worse once you turned your eyes towards bad boys instead of bad girls. Father dearest must have gone ballistic on you. That was probably the third time he put you in the hospital. All that bad behavior and rash acting out. Didn't help you out, did it? Did driving while drunk save your sister from daddy's molesting hands? Did your fighting and fucking stop your mother from going crazy, stop your dad from kicking your ass? SuperD is going to learn how to deal with his issues in a much healthier way."

Sansa stared at Polliver without any expression and her voice was deadpan. "Oscar." Chuckling, Polliver ran his baton over the long red braid. "Oscar, as in the award. It's clear your goal is to win the best acting award. But your mask is slipping, sweet thing. The proof of that is your very placement at this school. What is underneath all that perfection, dear? We shall lay it all bare and examine what really is rotting in you and yank it out like a rotted tooth. I think you have spent years fooling others around you. I think your impulsive little sister is here in part because she made the mistake of falling for your act. I won't, dear Oscar."

 

Polliver waved all the sullen children into the clinic and into a neat line in front of the medication counter. Raff leaned over, smirking. "All your ducklings in a row...do they have their new unique names learned yet, Polliver?"

"Why, Nurse Raff, of course they do! Please meet, Princess, Target, Goldilocks, Side Bitch, Death Row, SuperD and Oscar!" 

Chapter Text

"Dear boy! Darling boy! I am giving you an automatic A on any tests this week. In fact, I do believe that you have this week off from all classes with myself and Stannis. Isn't that so, Professor?"

Stannis nodded frantically as he continued to look at his breakfast the way he used to look at his mistress. Blinking away the tears in his eyes, the stoic man was too overcome to speak.

 Tyrion gave Hot Pie another pat on the arm as the boy personally served fresh muffins for the staff only. Each staff member was thrilled to find one of their favorite breakfast items being served. This was also the first time Hot Pie has ever delivered anything to them or made something specifically for the staff without being ordered to.

Raff smiled and said there were no one on one therapy sessions for the boy this week. Hot Pie personally poured coffee and Unella twitched her lips as Gregor glared at her. When she spoke it sounded as if the woman were on fire and the burn would only end if she doused it with words.

"I see no need for you to attend any appointments with the clinic or myself this week. Circle cannot be changed...but you can observe and not participate."

Gregor gave the boy a large grin upon receiving a personal quiche and boomed out, "I see that someone is starting to becoming less a duckling by the day. It doesn't matter which of us is your mentor, boy. But picking one is a great way to learn. I'd say that Polliver has become your greatest motivator and counsel. I am going to recommend to Kevan that you stop taking any damned pills or therapies. Keep your eye on the goal of becoming staff instead of student, Hot Pie."

Hot Pie went to his own breakfast with a huge grin and dreams floating in his head.

 

Raff gave Polliver a small golf clap as the man took a little bow.

"All it took was the right motivations. Turns out chaining the boy to the stove isn't needed, give a name, give a goal to chase and his magic cooking continues. I am going to take that quacking duckling under my wing and turn him into a proper staff member, our permanent chef."

Unella narrowed her eyes at the boasting counselor and snapped at him in between bites of a five cheese omelet. "Be wary of offering things you cannot deliver. It is ultimately up to Kevan who is allowed to become a staff member. That boy shouldn't be off medications or without therapy or a proper diploma!" She glared at Gregor when he snorted.

"That boy never needed any damned pills or in depth fucking lectures or mindfuckings. He needed motivation, he needed to feel a reason to have a better life for himself. The boy was removed from his temptations, he was forced to become fit and to find a talent, a goal. Leave it alone, Unella. Unless you want to stop shoveling good food into your mouth. You are gaining a bit of weight, maybe I should give you some exercises to help you work the food off?"

The muffin hit Gregor right in the shiny dome of his head and Stannis grumbled. "Woman, do not use this glorious repast as a missile for your anger!" Unella snorted and threw her napkin down. "I would advise everyone to be careful today. Jeyne is quite upset and hostile. She refuses to speak or pull down that damned hood. If she shows any signs of stress, please call me right away. Do not attempt to calm the girl if she becomes agitated, signal a counselor or the clinic."

Raff smirked and sipped at his freshly squeezed juice. "Jeyne spoke to me this morning without any prompting. She is very angry with you and Gregor but I think she is fine for today. I already told her to ask for a pass to see me at any point today if things get overwhelming."

Gregor chuckled. "Unella, the girl has always hated you and always will. Pointless for you to keep trying to get her to trust you. Let Raff work with Jeyne, out of all of us, she trusts him the most. Even ferals like a pretty face."

 

The students stood before Tyrion and Stannis in the main hallway of the two story school house.

"Welcome to your new hallowed halls of education, children. I am Professor Tyrion Lannister and this is Professor Stannis Baratheon. You may call us by our first names as long as it's done with respect. In that same respect, we will not use whatever moniker that Polliver has christened you with. Let us give you a quick tour before you check your schedules for your classes. Due to your ages and different learning abilities, each of you will be tested and some of your classes might even be a class of one or two students only. As you can see, the classrooms to your left are a science lab, a math classroom and the computer lab. Consider the downstairs left side of the school as Stannis's territory. Mine is on the right side, we have your language arts room, we have our lovely history classroom and of course our small library. Upstairs we have our offices where we can see you for guidance purposes and a few rooms for activities such as drama, art, photography and of course, our detention room."

 

Joff and Arya stared around the classroom with disbelief. Pointing with a slightly stumped finger, Joff asked, "What the hell is that?" Arya smirked. "Princess Moron. It's a chalkboard. Chalk makes the lines for words and pictures on the blackboard and the eraser makes it go bye bye. Didn't you ever have one as a child?"

"No, Target, I didn't. My parents gave me toys from my own generation. This whole damned schoolhouse belongs in history. I bet the history books go all the way up to the first moon landing." Giggling, Arya leaned her face on her fist and responded. "We will learn about the proper ways of leeching in science and the key guest speaker this year will be that up and coming scientist who wants to animate corpses."

A terrible screeching sound and both teenagers covered their ears and stared in horror at Stannis. After gently clearing his throat, the stern faced teacher spoke gravely. "Another thing chalkboards are good for is scraping nails down them to get the attention of rude little children. Now, let us enter the exciting adventures of math and science."    

The droning of Stannis, the warmth of the room, the heavy boredom and the lack of real sleep in a real bed have done Arya and Joff in. In spite of chalk and erasers thrown at their heads, both kept dozing off. Tyrion was positive that the only reason he was spared any dwarf jokes was because the two mainly slept through his classes. Unlike Stannis, Tyrion didn't bother beyond dropping a few heavy tomes upon their desks to wake them up. He gave up and got himself a cup of coffee, laced it liberally and took a break while the idiots snored.

Both professors despaired of teaching anything to Theon or Ramsay. It wasn't that they didn't possess average intelligence, they did. What they lacked was focus, discipline and any interest in learning what they were supposed to. Their focus was on each other and on causing general disruptions of any sort the idiots could think of. Ramsay spent most of his math class sharpening pencils to try and sail into Theon. Which caused Theon to spend most of history class loudly speculating about the most gruesome and painful forms of executions to murderers throughout time. During science, Ramsay tried to create a concoction in the lab that caused a small flash fire. Theon couldn't make it through quiet reading time until Tyrion put a piece of duct tape on the boy's mouth. Both would be joining Arya and Joff for detention.

Damon made the professors want to cry. Stannis stood over the confused seventeen year old and demanded in desperation, "Primary numbers, boy! Just name me the primary numbers!" Damon looked up at the man with hopeless innocence. "The primary numbers are...important numbers of the alphabet?" Tyrion walked the boy through the library. "Pick any book you can read. Just so I can see where you are comfortable and we'll work from there." "Okay. Uh, where are the ones with the words on one page and the pictures on the other?"

Sansa and Loras were the gold star pupils. A balm to the educated hearts of the professors. Two studious, intelligent children that were polite and obedient. Stannis became so excited that he broke out his best abacus to show them and waxed lyrical about Pythagoras. Tyrion enjoyed a reading of Romeo and Juliet with the two pretty and educated children. They had a rousing debate during history on the Persian war that made Stannis lean into the room to add his own perspective.

Myranda did her usual minimal amount of schoolwork possible and mostly observed the other students. Jeyne remained silent in every class but attended them, sitting as far from any other student possible. She refused to remove her hood and the teachers felt it best not to argue the point.

 

Gregor stopped back at his small cabin before heading towards readying the gym class for the children. He didn't even acknowledge Unella sitting on his couch glaring up at him. Walking past her, Gregor stopped at his fridge to grab a bottle of water then went past her again towards his bedroom. Seething, the woman stood up and stormed after him. "If that girl regresses because of what you did...what if Kevan doesn't like the girl bald and mute and-"

"Cunt, do you ever stop bitching at me?" Gregor put the bottle of water on his dresser then he sneered at Unella. "Hate sex is wonderful but I'm always waiting for the day when your mouth makes me strangle you." Unella made tight fists and slammed them against the large chest without causing Gregor the slightest discomfort. "I do fucking hate you. I truly hate you, Gregor. I think about so many medical ways I can kill you and then I fuck you."

"Hypocrite. Shut the hell up and get your clothes off. I don't have time for the insult foreplay, have new ducklings to pluck feathers from."

They had sex the way honey badgers, otters and certain types of deadly insects mate. Careful to never injure parts of the body that anyone could see, Unella and Gregor fucked like they were fighting a war. To an observer it would have appeared to have been a violent rape with a possible attempted murder but it would be hard to say who was the victim.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

Tyrion stared at the adorable fuzzy kittens then sadly said, "Farewell, my little furry balls of joy."

Then he ruthlessly flipped the calender page and pinned it back to the wall. Stannis looked approvingly at the hound pups sitting in on a plaid pillow.

"Dogs are better. Hunters are the best, most loyal. I had many hounds once."

Shrugging, Tyrion picked up his wine glass and commented,

"The dogs look depressed. They also look like their skin is sagging off, it's most disconcerting. Why do we have these awful calenders anyway? I mean, I know we have the students make them every year as a project, but come on. Why can't I just go to the store or order some crazy wonderful calender of my own and hang it on the damned wall? Who would notice? The students never come into our private homes, it's not like it would hurt their feelings? Are we that stupid and tenderhearted, Sir? Or are we that loyal to Kevan who also never visits our dwellings, that we are afraid to hang anything he might not approve of? Are we that brainwashed, man?"

Stannis drank from his sugary lemonade and grimaced at Tyrion.

"No. You are too lazy and drunk to bother getting any other calenders. Almost the entire staff has other calenders besides the required school one, my genteel drunken friend. Including myself. I have one in my office that has the most entertaining and sophisticated math jokes ever penned in time. Surely you have seen it hanging behind my desk on the wall?"

Tyrion shuddered. "Ah, yes. I thought it was a form of mental torture for the students as they faced you in your office."

He sat back down at the massive gaming table and gestured for Stannis to enjoy his turn. After a rather large sip of his wine, Tyrion stared at the calender and continued his rambling thoughts.

"I suppose I should be grateful that Kevan allowed that animal shelter to bring animals for the kids to take pictures of last year. At least these aren't some of those intolerable nature pictures of the past. I remember January as one big rock. And June was a large toad that was all blurred and six legged, trying to get away from the damned students!"

With a rare chuckle that was gone just as it started, Stannis moved his submarine closer to Tyrion's barely defended waters and leaned back in his chair.

"Tyrion! Do you recall the year Polliver and Raff graduated our classes? Remember the damned calender? I thought Kevan was going to revoke their staff status and it would have been all that teaching for nothing! But no, the man found it artistic in some way and hung the thing proudly. As did we all. It was hard to look at in any room of the house too! The kitchen was out, it was unsettling in the living room, nightmare inducing in the bedroom and I simply couldn't use the bathroom while facing that glossy horror! I ended up hanging it in my hall closet."

Frowning at the board but now smiling over the past, Tyrion hovered his hands over his territories but started to talk again.

"January was a dissected frog from Raff. I believe April was a rotted possum by Polliver. I don't remember which of our creative artists made the four month old ham sandwich picture but my personal favorite was the month of December. Nothing says seasonal spirit and warmth like a spread out pair of Gregor's boxer shorts with Unella's formidable waffle pattern bra above it. I personally agree with those pioneer artists that it was worth the caning from our giant and the accidental but so utterly on purpose medication mix up that Unella prescribed them. They might have had rashes and the worst case of shakes for a few days but it was worth it. I have saved that picture and bought a plastic frame for it. Okay, full confession...I didn't buy the frame, just stole it from the supply closet at school."

Stannis sniffed as Tyrion set about to destroy the brave men in that submarine. He looked at the calender, soothed by the hounds then a thought struck him.

"Oh no! For some reason...I got used to having three students that had no visitors! We have visitors day this weekend. Even hounds cannot help me now. I hate the parents, Tyrion. They don't....ugh...damn you, man! Don't you know by now when to add a little something to my drink! Do it now! Destroy my brave young men after you get your guest attended to, Sir!"

Tyrion nearly skipped with delight to obey. He had forgotten the once a month ritual always made Stannis drink heavily just before it's arrival. The man is not a social butterfly by any means and parents stress Stannis out. They do not wish to hear a report only. They have questions, challenges to Stannis's teaching methods and concerns for their darlings.

As he liberally laced Stannis's lemonade with the best vodka that Kevan could buy and Tyrion could steal, he waxed on dramatically.

"And good professor, might I remind you, I am the true one with a complaint this year! Not only must I contend with the somber Starks, the creepster Roose Bolton, ancient saucy Olenna Tyrell knows me from childhood on! She will expect that I offer some form of favor to her grandson or at the very least, the woman will try and force some secret out of me. Then there is my own dearest sweet sister, Cersei. She will most certainly expect that I have a duty to coddle and protect her little lamb."

Stannis forced his hand steady as he took a rather rude amount of lemonade into his dry mouth. He swallowed, took another drink and then steadied himself. A sharp nod and he watched as Tyrion sat back down rather with a careless limbless grace.

"You, are drunk. I will win because you are drunk. Ha. Wait just a moment while I take another sip and then I shall destroy you."

Tyrion smirked as Stannis finished the better half of the tall glass. He made no mention of Stannis's swaying or the glazing of the narrowing eyes. Stannis concentrated deeply upon saving his submarine but then found his voice rattling on without informing him of the event.

"I know, it is worse for you, it's family. Family is...complicated and painful, isn't it? But I know that our methods work, that even with some of our more...harsher methods employed here...it truly does work. We cannot express that to these idiot parents. They are concerned about all the wrong things and I have trouble understanding how to tell them that without all the fuss that follows it! At least with Loras and Sansa we can show our best work, we have nothing but excellent reports for Olenna and Ned on that account at least! Joff and Arya are class clowns, they are smart enough to know better and accept the consequences for it. They spend half their afternoons in detention with us or with Gregor nearly everyday! They do just enough to pass and that is only because we are generous! We can get some good results out of Theon and Ramsay if they are interested in the subject matter. It is amazing to me how they manage to pass tests in classes they aren't paying attention to. They are clearly cheating together and I will catch them at it one of these days."

Tyrion nodded and rose unsteadily to refresh their drinks while Stannis clumsily moved a fleet.

"Dearest Professor, let us hope that Balon Greyjoy isn't pressured into appearing for the sake of his son. A drunk of little account! His family ran the fishery near our home for years, now that drunken asshole is sinking it into the ground. The only reason his boy is here was motivation from my father not just to keep things quiet but to force Balon to do his fucking job. He is lucky. If it were left up to Roose or Cersei, chances are Theon would be fished out of the water in a month or so. Probably right next to that poor hulking child. Damon won't be having any visitors, I don't think. Well, Roose will see him along with Ramsay. That poor fucking kid."

Stannis took his drink and his face darkened as he stood up while Tyrion tried to sit down on his doubled chair. The man began to pace and he sharply indicated that it was Tyrion's turn now.

"Damon...that boy is a shameful example of a child lost. His tale is as sad as Jeyne's! I become so outraged on that child's behalf, both of them! That boy...did you hear Unella during our meeting today? I will tell you that as she told us Damon's history in that horrible blank voice of hers, the only thing that kept me from despair was that Hot Pie had served his coffee cakes and strudel for our monthly staff meeting."

Tyrion tried blinking before examining the board, his words slurred as he responded carefully.

"The boy's father was a fucking maniac, a corrupted, racist cop that was owned by Roose Bolton. That man never brought home a dime to his junkie wife or their son. A son who was born addicted to heroin. The parents never came to the hospital to visit the infant so child services got involved. Suddenly Roose waves his wand of bones and Damon is home with mommy and daddy. Mommy leaves Damon home alone and unfed, uncared for while she runs about whoring for drugs. Daddy only comes home to sleep. Oh, and to beat the living shit out of whoring, drugged out mommy and then it's time to knock the crying child out cold or lock him in a shed. I believe Unella said that Damon was two or three when he ended up in the emergency room for a pistol whipping. I mean, he was in the emergency room quite often, for severe dehydration, for broken bones, infections that began to fester. But Roose always helped them keep the child at home."

Now Stannis was sitting down while Tyrion began to unsteadily pace the floor, his wine sloshing in his hand. Tyrion's eyes filled with watery angst and Stannis sighed. Even drunk, he hated it when his friend became too emotional. However, Stannis felt just as terrible about that poor Damon and so he listened and empathized deeply, drunkenly and wiped away a stray tear.

"I mean, good god, Sir! How could the public school system not get involved? Even if Roose had child services in his pocket, he doesn't control the damned teachers! The lunch ladies, the school nurse and the fucking entire janitorial staff could have taken a small peek at Damon! Stannis, my old stern fellow, it is a damned crime! When Damon's father tried to steal from Roose, he was dead and any assistance offered from Roose ended. Even though Ramsay was the poor child's only friend, the boy was left to the rotten care of his mother. Who then put the child in a trailer park and left him to starve and fend for himself! The boy was tested, he is clearly mentally impaired, did you hear the scores on the tests Unella did? So the boy was nearly as feral as Jeyne for a time."

Stannis scoffed. "Well, I am not sure that feral would apply to Damon."

Tyrion launched himself towards the table, his glass tilting in a way that alarmed Stannis slightly.

"When Damon got tired of watching other students eat a lunch he couldn't afford, when he couldn't take seeing a single paper bag more with a sandwich made by a loving parent, he snapped. Damon learned how to bully food and lunch money not out of spite like Ramsay. The boy stole and bullied because he was trying to stay alive! He hung out with Ramsay for whatever affection, attention and possible favors he could get out of it. Ramsay helped see that Damon had a way to achieve food, money and more. When the school started to punish Damon for these infractions there was no defense for him. He gave up on returning to class since he wasn't learning anything anyway. How could Damon have not been put in special needs courses, I don't know! It was clear his aggressive nature was purely defensive and for survival. His other actions, the darker ones were taught by that little killer. Damon follows like a dumb puppy and turns rabid when Ramsay tells him to."

"Sit down, man, before you douse me in your wine and fall into the table! Do not use your clumsiness as an excuse to destroy our game simply because I am winning!"

Tyrion grunted and started to carefully navigate his way around the table towards his chair. Reaching it, the man glowed in victory and sat down, his glass still held out as if in toast of something.

"Now, hear me, Stannis! That poor boy is doomed! If we cannot find ways to teach him, I fear that young giant will become our new janitor someday. If Roose does manage to see to it that Damon graduates and leaves along with Ramsay...I fear for what might happen to that simple boy."

Stannis smiled and found it hard to speak through his rapidly numbing tongue but he gave it a valiant effort.

"We can Damon the help! I have faith in us, best friend! Ish...is...it's Rameon and Thamsay that I...if Roosh knows...I agree with Un..Un...doctor, I agree that ish a bad rela...relash..."

Tyrion laughed heartily at the drunk and frustrated man as he sang out,

"My fine Sir, you are now smashed, shnockered, shitfaced and fucked up! Ha! I am well versed in being drunk and I shall win our game now! Prepare yourself for defeat, ready your men to die for your foolish drunken ways....as for Damon...it's a damned shame and we shall do what we can for the boy. Ramsay and Theon...I keep having the urge to keep a journal and record their adventures. I would publish it around the same time Unella finally publishes her book on Jeyne. And my book will skyrocket to the bestseller list while Unella's book grows dust. The title of my book would be, Fifty Shades of Fucked Up."

Stannis found himself cackling which was quite undignified but there it was. He stopped laughing when Tyrion finally tilted his glass too far. The shock and indignation that swept through him nearly sobered him for a moment.

"Good gods, man! We just lost all the of the holy lands to the Great Wine Flood of Two Thousand Eighteen! Wait, let me help you clean that, still isn't as bad as the savage Nacho Cheese Incident of Russia."

Chapter Text

Arya slammed her fist against Sansa's locked door for the fourth time, her knuckles calloused but starting to ache dully.

"Sansa! Come on! Please, would you give your own damned sister just like...oh, I don't know, five minutes out of your busy damn schedule! It's important!"

A voice floated out from behind the door and it was utterly bland and without any emotion, almost robotic in a way.

"What is it, Arya? I am very busy right now. Just tell me through the door."

The next thing that slammed against the door was Arya's forehead and it was deeply and instantly regretted. Her voice ended up coming out as a mockery of Joff's whine and that was regrettable too. 

"Saaansssaaaa! Ah, fuck me, my head, okay, listen! Don't know why you can't open the door when it's you and Side Bitch in there. Death Row and Princess says it's because you two are fucking like jackrabbits. Is this true? I don't really care, I have seen Whore in action. I don't care if you slut it out a little, must be a relief to let your perfection down a little, I get that. But I am still your fucking little sister and I feel like we are in damned scene from that stupid kid musical. I don't want to build a fucking snowman with you, Oscar. But it's almost time for mother and father to come visit us. I think we need to talk about it. It's a big deal, you know? How we are doing might depend on if we get to leave here!"

  Sansa's voice was indeed the voice of an ice queen now as it shot through the door and into Arya's ear.

"Dearest sister. Target. I am not having sex. You have no idea what I do and that is something a sneak like you cannot stand. I am studying, I am creating projects, sometimes I read or sew or write in my journal. Whatever I am doing it is clear it is private and you need to learn to respect that. We don't need to have an emergency discussion about the visit. We will look healthy, well fed and so very respectful. Do you believe that you would be the first student to ever try and tell their parents that it is abusive here? Kevan knows what you will say...he is prepared for it as are the staff. They are well versed in explaining away what they do. It would be useless and pointless. How much do you enjoy those detentions? Can you imagine what Polliver or Gregor would dream up as a punishment for you? Or how about if Kevan himself decided to take issue with you after the visit? Use your head, little sister. Now please go away. I will speak to you during breakfast tomorrow, we can sit together."

"Fine. I want you to know that you are a selfish bitch. I don't know what your game is, but I hate it. I hope it stops before I start to hate you instead of the game."

 

Sansa waited until she heard her annoying sister go away. She breathed a sigh of relief and Damon stared at her with intensity from where he sat on the bed. Smiling at him, she sauntered back over and took her place next to him. Her delicate hands reached into his lap and the boy gave her a senseless grin. His hands joined hers and when Sansa spoke, Damon listened with every yearning piece of him.

"Ready for some more, Superhero?"

Her voice was a slight bit of tease, a soft sound that others cannot hear but it wrapped around Damon easily. Like a security blanket for a hapless third grade boy who has never known tenderness or kindness. Unlike when Polliver or Ramsay would tease him about being a hero sometimes, it was different when Sansa said it. She meant it and Damon never felt such hope before.

"Yes, please. I can't stop now, I'm too close. Please, Sansa, I really want to be a superhero, I want to make you proud."

"Okay, then. Let's be playful this time, you look too stressed. Shut your eyes. Just shut them and trust me, Superhero."

Smiling gently, Sansa's hands moved and Damon's closed over hers, then he himself felt the sandpaper letters. She began to speak, her voice an encouraging lilt, that made Damon's own hands move firmer, faster and he was overwhelmed for a moment. Sweat had beaded on his forehead and Sansa wiped it off.

"I know you feel intense right now, Damon. It's alright, we can go as slow or fast as you need, sweetheart. Let's try one more time and then we can call it a night. You are nearly there, I can feel it and I want this as badly as you do. So let's try together first before you just run your hands anywhere, okay? Good. Take a deep breath first, hon. There you go. Now...ready? Move with me, Superhero, just follow what I do and listen to what I say."

Damon nodded and melted into the voice and touch of sweet promise. He relaxed the best he could and allowed his fingers to trace the sandpaper letters of each card. Sansa's fingers slipped away and Damon carefully traced each letter and said out loud what it was. He finally understood after the fourth time he said each letter correctly that it made a whole word. He laughed and slapped his own knee, blushing a bit.

If the others knew how badly Damon needed his own female roommate to teach him such simple things, the teasing would be relentless. He was grateful that Sansa had come to him, admitted that she knew Damon needed help and had some ideas on it. She was very firm about keeping it secret. Damon was fine with them all assuming that the two of them were having sex. He was bisexual and proud of it.

But Sansa wasn't offering sex and Damon felt queasy just thinking about trying to seduce or force her. She was too important to him as a teacher and something about her just warned him off from such things. Sansa touched him all the time and he enjoyed it but it wasn't sexual. It was the simple joy of hands on his own, rubbing his shoulders in encouragement and soothing his long hair when he cried because the letters became annoying, too hard too try.

Damon couldn't explain it if he tried but instincts told him to let her be the guide. Let Ramsay have all the prey he wants, but if letting him think Sansa is fucking Damon, then he won't go after her. He won't question the long hours locked in the room during free time.

When he finally opened his eyes, it was to see the firm but kind face glowing at him.

"Look how well you did! I told you that I have seen this method work on some readers who have a unique kind of dyslexia. We already have results. I'm so proud of you, Damon. You are on your way to superstar for sure! Soon enough, you will stun Tyrion with asking to read a fifth grade level book! This helps both of us, I truly want to be a teacher and tutoring is going to my ticket into that direction."

Damon gave her a brilliant smile then he wrinkled his brow slightly.

"But..Sansa Stark is a popular name, a rich family, a very powerful one that hires Roose all the time. Me an Ramsay have done jobs for them too. I met...some of your family before. It's like the Lannisters, way too big. They would want you to marry a rich man with a family fortune or something...and they would have you go to a really good uni...uni...college! In your family, you'd have to be like a..scientist or..a politics lady! Or be like your mother...I should shut up my mouth, huh? Ramsay says I talk too much and I won't live long."

Sansa gave Damon a small cold kiss upon his forehead then stood up slowly. Her voice was honey, it was stinging bees, it was a vampire that was barely inches from seduction and death.

"Superhero on his way to Superstar. Sweet Damie, don't you understand this place yet? We don't really get to leave...we stay here until Kevan finds a better use for us, or a use to keep us here. Look at Hot Pie...he will cook here forever. Do you think Jeyne or Myranda will leave here someday?"

"Myranda leaves almost every weekend!"

A twitch of her lips, Sansa knelt down and put her small hands upon Damon's large clasped ones.

"Damie. Superhero. Myranda leaves on Kevan's orders to fuck elderly rich men and brings back anything she can steal or hear. She doesn't choose it. Like Hot Pie with his cooking, like Raff with nursing, like Polliver with counseling, Kevan finds your talent and uses it. Sadly, Myranda's talents are being used in a rotten way. I can't imagine what Kevan thinks to do with Jeyne. Or any of us. But I intend to make sure that I choose my own talent before Kevan chooses it for me. I choose teaching. I will be a professor here if Kevan never lets me go. In some ways, it's a relief, Damon. Better than my family forcing me to marry someone I might hate. And they too would dictate my career, my lifestyle, they always have and I despise it. Kevan might be my ticket to freedom. Just like you are."

 

Damon helped make sure that the reading materials used were well hidden before the door was opened again. He was going to hang out with Ramsay but Sansa gently reminded him that he hadn't flossed that day.

"And since you have to floss, might as well brush your teeth and shower. Once you've done that, then you can see Ramsay but you might want to get some extra sleep. You've worked very hard today and deserve to have extra rest. A superhero deserves his sleep even if Ramsay cannot appreciate that." 

That made sense and Damon puffed his chest as he firmly spoke.

"Ramsay can keep himself busy with Theon anyway. I deserve to take care of myself first. I am going to bed early after I shower."

"And floss."

"Uh, huh. And floss."

"That is a great idea, Damon. I can't believe how quick you are learning and you are gaining your independence back. Ramsay took away your best parts and I am so happy to see this new dedicated to a better life kind of Damon. My superhero. Go on now and I'll be back soon. Just want to meet with Loras briefly about that silly calender project. I can't believe all of you voted to have us do it. When they said pick two students, I thought it would be Arya and Joff picked since they would make a joke of it all. But no, apparently Loras and I aren't liked very much. Simply because we are smart. It's a form of harassment, Damon. I am so glad that you are not really that way." 

Damon's face darkened and he spoke in a very somber, deep tone. Sansa imagined it might have been the voice Ramsay's victims heard when he brought Damon with him and shivered a bit.

"Sansa, if any of them try to hurt you or bully you, I will rip them apart for you. I...don't know good people, Sansa, but you are a nice person. A really good person that helps folks that don't even deserve it. I mean, I can't pay you back for all this help and I can't even let anyone know how much you've helped me! There isn't any good talents in me. But I have bad ones that can be used for good stuff...like hurting or killing anyone that messes with my teacher!"

With a gentle smile, Sansa lay one hand against the big flushed cheek and looked into Damon's thunderous face.

"Thank you, Superhero. I know you would help me and I told you, it's paying me back by letting me teach you. Someday, we will show the teachers and Kevan how far you've come...we will reveal me then, like a magic trick but better! I will become a teacher because of you, I know it. But please, be careful, sweetie. Do not allow the Boltons to have the power of thought over you. You will find wonderful talents, Damie. I know it. Once you've learned things more, you'll be able to find your way. But if you get into fights, cause problems and injuries, that will get you noticed in a bad way. Please, it would make me so sad if anything bad happened to you. I need you, Superhero. Now go floss, Superstar!"

 

Joff sneered as Arya stomped into the common room and slammed onto the couch.

"Dissed by Oscar again, huh? Man, I wish we could get a camera in there, she and Damon must have tricks we could put on the Internet!"

As the students had set into a routine, the night medications stopped or were lowered for the students. Then once all obeyed curfew and the basic house rules, Polliver gave them a television with blessed cable. A sign was posted above it about what hours the television could be used. Abusing it, losing the remote or fighting over the channels and Polliver will take it away permanently.

Which is why Loras was watching Into The Woods and Joff endures the musical rather than punch the pansy and steal the remote. Arya grimaced at the screen and then at Loras.

"Why are you torturing us with this shit? Is nothing else on? Like the nightly fucking news would be better than this. Oscar made me go to the theater for this and we saw the musical live with our family. I hate cultured shit, I hate drama and arts and musicals and I think I hate my sister and I shouldn't hate my own fucking sister. I wish Cuntella would give out some useful drugs for once. Like say...crack or something."

Loras sniffed and looked down his small gold wired spectacles at Arya.

"Dear, this all sounds like a personal issue. If you don't like this musical, I suggest leaving the room until it ends. Or until your sister meets with me to discuss the calender. I will shut this off for an educational meeting with the only other intelligent human in this place. Don't worry, Target. The musical is almost over and then you can watch Adult Swim before curfew."

Theon was coming in along with Ramsay who heard most of the discussion and snorted.

"Oh gods, I have to say, Goldilocks, since we've come here you've truly changed. This place is doing real wonders for you. Whatever will your grandmother say about this new studious good boy that Kevan has molded!"

Ramsay's every word was laced with razors and Theon slightly winced under the cuts. But Loras did not, he simply smiled and responded calmly.

"Considering what I was like before, I think my grandmother will appreciate the changes. It's too bad that no one will be here to speak for SuperD. Because he looks different too, Death Row. But not in a good way, I think."

Ramsay glared at Loras as he pulled Theon closer. Theon whispered something quick into Ramsay's ear and without further words, they went into their bedroom. Arya giggled at Loras's moan of disgust and worry for his increasingly distant friend. Joff snickered and stage whispered, "Loras will watch a thousand musicals tonight rather than go in that freaky bdsm parlor that used to be a bedroom. We should get a camera in there too!"

With a shudder, Loras pulled his hair back, reminding himself mentally to ask for a haircut tomorrow morning.

"Trust me that you do not want to watch or film what goes on with them. I have nearly ripped out my eyes and almost thrust a sharpened pencil through my own eardrums because of them."

Both students leaned forward eagerly, but Loras was finished with speaking. He turned up the musical so he could hear the witch singing instead of the two idiots whining.

 

Chapter Text

Jeyne was curled on the small coach in Raff's office and he leaned back in his chair, smiling at her kindly.

Unella has had a bitch of a time getting Jeyne to show up for her appointments. So did Gregor, he has had to send Polliver to drag the girl hissing and kicking to his classes. Polliver had no issue with Jeyne unless he had to make her go to see Gregor or Unella. Raff was the only one that Jeyne willingly would see and speak with. Even her teachers receive nothing more than her work done. No voice used anymore, nothing but blank face and work that is barely correct.

"Jeyne, thank you for always being on time with me. And I appreciate that you speak with me, work hard on your own health. But...we had our big staff meeting yesterday. And you understand that we use those meetings to determine how each student is doing, what needs to be changed, what needs to be reported to Kevan."

With quick movements of her limbs that only a contortionist might be able to perform so naturally, Jeyne was perched on the desk. Hovering, her toes balanced, knees bent but lightly still bouncing, her thin arms resting on her knees, hands clawed but dangling without threat. Her head tilted and for one moment, Raff had a brief flash of terror. He imagined how easily this feral could rip his throat out. Raff worked mightily to make sure Jeyne didn't see that on his face.

"My grades are bad. I don't attend my non school classes unless forced. I refuse to go to my appointments with the doctor. But I do all my homework, tests and projects, I do all my chores. I have not threatened, fought, hidden or even said anything bad to anyone at all. Has to count for something. I do my therapy with you and take my medication on time. Isn't that good enough?"

Raff gave a tiny soft chuckle and pretended a dangerous predator wasn't perched above him, her glittering eyes piercing him.

"Problem is, honey...you won't use your voice with the staff at all. And part of your schooling and therapy is going to the Doctor and Gregor's classes. Those bad grades need to get a little better. You must attend everything on your schedule or Kevan will not forgive another report like the one he received today. Kevan is going to be concerned for any student with a bad report. That is not the kind of attention you want from Kevan."

Jeyne gave a quick baring of her teeth then seemed to ruffle then shake her anger away. It fascinated Raff and his smile grew even more, he couldn't wait to write this all down later. Of course, the hidden camera he is filming her with will also be a huge hit, a documentary and a book. Unella thinks she will make a book out of Jeyne, use her as a way back into the respectable medical community. Raff has also been creating a book about Jeyne himself. Since Jeyne spoke with him, trusted his counsel, Raff has way more information on Jeyne than Unella's dusty reports will show.

Leaning forward a little, careful to not touch the girl and to move slowly, with relaxed body, he continued.

"I am sure you have figured out by now that each student gets a counselor, a mentor of their own naturally. Each student picks their own mentor and I think we both know you chose me for a reason. So listen to me carefully, dear. I do care about you and I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I hated what Unella did, I despised letting Gregor cut off your hair. But I have no choices in any matters that don't concern a nurse or therapist. I can only give my reports and suggestions to the staff and to Kevan and pray. You understand that, don't you? So I can only really defend you by talking with you, warning you and guiding you. But you have to do the work, you have to do what I am telling you."

Jeyne gave a tiny sigh and rubbed her hands across the stubble all over her head, scratching the fuzzy skin.

After the first week of being shaved, Gregor took away all her hooded clothing since she refused to show her head. Since then Jeyne tries to rub her head when she is stressed out. She folded her limbs and knelt on the desk, inches from Raff's face, hovering with some unknown intent. Raff was used to this though he longed for the day he found out what those eyes truly held. His book and film will skyrocket his bank account if nothing else. Just a small insurance so that someday when the chance to escape might appear...Raff will have the resources for it.

"Jeyne, just do your schoolwork and use your voice when asked a question. Go to Gregor's classes and do what you must. Go to Unella's appointments and do as you must. If you get better grades from the teachers, if Gregor and Unella can report you are attending their appointments, then I can start to turn Kevan's mind to letting me guide you more. I can convince him that you don't need to be poked and prodded by Unella, no more pills and shock therapies. I will suggest that less time with Gregor would be good for you. See? In order for me to help you, sweetheart, I need you to help me too. You must do as you are told so that I can convince Kevan that you have no further need of these things. Do you understand that, Jeynie girl?"

A small darting down of her head and Raff took it as the small nod of agreement. Then her lips curved and her eyes narrowed.

"If I behave and go to my enemies willingly, you will convince Kevan that I do not need Gregor or Unella's help anymore? I understand that. I can speak to the professors, do the stupid work, that isn't hard. Tyrion said last month that my reading was already going faster. I am up to a sixth grade book reading level now! But I hate Unella and Gregor so much, it is very hard to just keep not fighting them. I will try though, for you. I will remind myself that my revenge upon them comes soon. And I can use the joy of that as my motivation to make it through their repulsive attentions. I want to bite but I won't. I will wait and let the revenge be sweet. I have watched, stalked, waited and watched, listened. Myranda showed me how to spy right, Sansa told me about using patience and collect information instead of attacking. Hot Pie worries for me but his suggestions are close to yours."

Raff forgot his own rules in his deep concern for Jeyne's safety as he reached out to clasp one of those long bony hands with sharp jagged nails. The girl allowed it but gave a tiny whining sound but stayed still in a buzzing tense way. Her eyes were on the strong, manicured hands warming and covering her small hand.

"Sweet Jeynie, whatever you are planning, I wish you would tell me all of it. Because I sense bad things can happen for you from whatever revenge scheme you have rattling about in your head. Please, honey, I understand your anger but revenge isn't the answer here. At least not in anyway you or other students would plan. It will only hurt you in the end. Tell me what you are planning and I will show you the flaws in it. I will help you come up with a better solution, okay? Tell your nurse, honey."

The slight flirting soft tone, the warm eyes that are inviting, the handsome young man, touching her hand, it was overwhelming in a delightful but terrifying way. Jeyne stared into those lovely eyes and then forced herself into bravery.

"Before Myranda came...I really really liked you. And then...I wasn't angry about her, I mean, another predator just moved where I didn't dare to go. But I wonder...I will make a deal with you, Raff. If you answer my questions, I will go to Unella and Gregor's appointments all the month long."

Raff sensed danger but was still itching to write all of this down. So he tilted his head and flipped his hair back, pretending he wasn't disconcerted.

"I will accept your bet but with limitations. I can choose not not answer any personal or private questions, or any questions at all that I feel are too inappropriate."

Jeyne nodded and Raff carefully took his hand back, leaning back in his chair. The girl seemed to carefully think of what she wished to ask or say.

"If Myranda had not shown up, if I had been braver...would you have liked me back? Would you have done with me what you do with Myranda if I had asked you to?"

Raff froze and mentally he heard an alarm shrieking of dangerous waters and he tried to carefully form a good answer. Then he received the shock of his life. Jeyne was suddenly in his lap, she barely weighed anything, her warm small claws now were on either side of Raff's face. Nearly nose to nose, Jeyne looked into his eyes and gave a small hiss of warning.

"No. That is cheating. You are thinking too hard before you answer to say the right therapist thing. I want the truth. I want the first answer in your head not the last one carefully made up. I won't hurt you and I won't try to sexually assault you, Raff. I just want the real answers and that is all. Please, you say you are here to help me, to guide me then do that. Help me by just telling me the real hard truths, just like that asshole Gregor does, but you say it nicer. Will you just answer my questions for real? Or the deal is off."

Raff ignored the shrieking alarms in his head and allowed her touch, her closeness. He was careful to keep his hands on the armrests and to stay still while the girl perched upon his lap the way she had on the desk. When he spoke his voice was firm but still offering the warmth to lead Jeyne into calm and obedient waters.

"Hmm. How about this, let's amend this deal. Since you want to ask me personal kinds of questions and want me to be more truthful and blunt....I need a bigger return than just going doing better with staff and appointments. No, I want a little more on my end, Jeynie. If I answer all your questions honestly, you must not only do better like you offered, but I want to know what your revenge plot is against Gregor and Unella. Deal?"

Jeyne was gone before Raff could've blinked. Curled back on the couch as if she never left it, Jeyne bit at a ragged nail on her thumb.

"I don't want to tell you my revenge plot. You'll stop me. I know you will and I can't risk losing my one chance to hurt those who have hurt me. I wish I could get my questions answered but maybe another time. But I will make a smaller deal with you, how about that? I will do what I must to get a better report next month...but you must try very hard to get Kevan to release me from Gregor and Unella's torture. I want so badly to trust you. I don't trust anyone, Raff. But I want to trust you and that is very scary for me. I hope I am doing the right thing by trusting you to help me."

Raff was relieved and disappointed all at once that the strange intimate yet threatening moment was over. He knew Jeyne well enough not to press anymore issues.

"Alright, that sounds like a good solid deal. I want you to trust me, Jeynie, I won't let you down, I won't lead you on a bad path, I only want the best for you. Don't you know that yet, sweetie? Now, look at the time, we actually ran over...then again, we always do, don't we? It's because you are my favorite student and you know it. I will tell you this much. Myranda isn't my greatest pleasure. She isn't a relationship, just a girl who knows only one way to gain things. I would hate to see you be like her in any way. I respect you, I feel true concern and caring for your mental and physical health, I want to help you. I feel none of those things for Myranda. She isn't the therapist's pet, that would be you, dear. It is time for you to leave me and go to your last class of the day. Shock that little dwarf by starting a heated debate on history or something."

 

Hot Pie roared so loud that everyone in the cafeteria jumped. That included Polliver who was getting coffee. He swore as it spilled upon his newly ironed shirt.

"Dammit! Boy, why are you shouting like that? It better be worth the stains on this shirt or you'll be having a better reason to screech!"

With a joyous face flushed from cooking hot food, without a shred of fear that he destroyed a shirt, Hot Pie literally bounced his way out of the kitchen. He spread his arms wide and his goofy smile nearly covered him from ear to ear.

"I did it! Just in time for you to add it to the monthly report too! I kept my end of the bargain, Polliver! Just weighed myself and I have hit Kevan and Unella's target weight! I did it! Come see for yourself! Then you can add it, right? Remember? I have the good grades, I go to all my therapies and shit...the last big goal was the damned weight, right? Well, I have done it, finally! You said you would recommend less therapy, less doctor crap, you said that maybe you can have Kevan let me test out of school...so I can have my own cabin and get a paycheck and cook like a real chef! Kevan said once I was ready, he would let me learn with real chefs!"

Polliver gave a large smile and his voice was jolly but there was something in there that made Hot Pie feel uneasy.

"I don't need to see the damned scale, I can just look at you. I see how good you are doing and looking. The reports are already done though, buddy. But it doesn't matter, we just can add it for next month. But listen, the report for you this month is glowing. Everyone has only excellent things to say, you have become a model student here, Hot Pie. Kevan will be so pleased he will see you himself, I bet. And when he does, I will make sure he sees how much you've worked. I will make sure he knows you reached your goal weight."

The boy's face dropped a little.

"You only wrote out those reports this morning, right? Isn't there still time to add it in? For you to speak to Kevan on my behalf? I've done everything you said to do. I have nearly killed myself catering to all of you and you can't just add a little extra scribble on the report for me?"

Polliver moved closer and his hand rested upon his baton attached to his thick belt.

"Now boy, do not pick up that shovel and dig a hole to jump into like you used to. It took Gregor a long time of burying you over and over for you to learn that. And you know how I feel about it. Don't backslide and earn that Piggy name back! Think of your goals not your anger. It is too late this month but I told you already it won't matter. Kevan will see you during the visit weekend. He will be out and about for the parents, he will eat your wonderful baked goods and see how dedicated you are to our staff, to our school. He will see the weight and all the good reports you have. Do not ruin that by being a brat again, holding grudges never works out for you. Now, I am going to change my shirt and bring this one back to you. I expect that you will get rid of this stain after your work today. Bring it back to my cabin tonight or tomorrow morning the latest. Make sure it is ironed correctly."

Hot Pie stared hard at Polliver, his face now set grimly but he gave a sharp nod as his shoulders slumped a bit.

"Yes, Polliver. Sorry I ruined your shirt."

With a grin, Polliver rubbed Hot Pie's sweaty, curly hair.

"I know you feel like I just burst your happy bubble. Sorry, kiddo. But I need you to be realistic, I need you to use your head not your emotions or your mouth. Trust me, the way I tell you to go is the right way. Do you think Raff and I didn't have to swallow back impatience in order to get where we are? Tell you what, when you bring me my shirt, if there is enough time, I will tell you a bit about me an Raff. How we had to go through swallowing shit in order to reach Kevan and our own goals. Maybe it will help you out a little. We will have a sit down and share some coffee and chat. For now, congratulations on losing the rest of that fat, Hot Pie. You should be proud of yourself and I think you should brag about it as much as you want. Now get your slender ass back to work, I smell chicken pot pie for lunch. Good work, buddy! I will be back with my shirt in ten minutes. Go make me food that will cause me to swoon. A proper lady swoon!"

Hot Pie grinned at the teasing and the friendly touch. The thought of getting to be invited into Polliver's home to hear stories that might help him out, it eased his anger.

 

Chapter Text

Tyrion smiled at Loras and Sansa as he walked past the two gloriously styled heads pressed together. 

"Hard at work, I see? Can I ask why you two are out here on such a wonderful night doing schoolwork still? It's almost curfew, children and here you are doing proper work instead of some form of mischief. My heart be still! Part of me cheers you on your road to scholarly pursuits! And yet, another half of me wants to tell you that you are only young once! Go skinny dipping in the pond, watch a horror movie and eat popcorn, read a racy novel or whatever teenagers without electronics can do!"

Loras and Sansa giggled and with a flip of her braid, she explained.

"My sister, her roommate, they are very loud and annoying. We can't concentrate in there. And..our roommates aren't exactly quiet enough to work in our rooms. Damon...likes privacy.  So we figured since it's nice out, we would do our work on a thick blanket on the lawn. We are allowed to be here, I checked with Polliver first. We know the exact distance we are allowed to roam in the evening and I do know that the pond is off limits after it becomes dark. We are trying to work on the calender ideas. I think we have a good one and we are just making some notes. Not real homework, we have finished that. This is just the calender stuff which is really rather exciting! I have never even taken photography before. Neither has Loras, its new for us."

Tyrion grinned. "Usually the calender is seen by the students as a form of torture. It is refreshing to have kids that appreciate trying new things! Now, what is the subject you've chosen? I am dying to know!"

Loras shook his head and Sansa's eyes gained a tiny twinkle, a merry one.

"No, I'm sorry but this one is a surprise! We aren't telling anyone what we are doing for the calender. It will be even better that way! You understand, don't you?"

"Hmm. Well, I am supposed to know what you are doing so I can give it approval or not. Kevan will not be amused with you or I if the calender is offensive...I fell for that before. Polliver and Raff were students here once, you know. And I am sure it will shock you to know that their senior year, they were voted to make the calender. I made the mistake of letting them keep it secret. Next thing I knew I had many months of rotted animal corpses to stare at and a decomposing sandwich. Thank gods, that Kevan found it amusing! Or I could have been disciplined right along with those two smart asses."

Sansa gave a giggle and waved a manicured hand at Tyrion playfully.

"Please! You know us well enough by now! We would never do anything like that! I can swear to you that it is not a pornography thing, not a bad thing. Just a different, unique calender that you can be really proud of. That doesn't have to be boring animals or nature. Say it is alright that we keep our secret a little longer? I have such a great time giving surprises! Loras and I are making a calender that you will never forget."

Tyrion sighed and looked up at the moon. "Oh, okay. I shall place my trust in the two of you. But nothing gets put into the actual calender until I have seen it. That has to stand as a rule. Deal?"

The perfect children gave Tyrion perfect smiles and he gave a perfect smile back. He continued on his journey, wondering what those two were up to.

 

Tyrion paused a moment as he strolled toward his cabin. Two things paused him.

Sansa had mentioned Damon briefly and her voice had slightly changed, it had sounded a bit stressed. He was aware the two shared a room which was absurd and asking for trouble in his mind. Was Damon bothering her? Tyrion made a mental note to have Polliver look into that possibility. Part of him felt stupid about that, after all, he had worked closely with the boy as had Stannis. Damon was truly not the monster he is portrayed as in the outer world. He is impaired, sweet and desperate to learn, to change himself. But he was still mentored by Ramsay and has violent tendencies when pushed that way...

The other thing that was pausing Tyrion was Theon and Ramsay. They were at the very edge of the dark woods, directly in front of where they are never allowed to be at night. There was a large rock, a few of them, that lined the forbidden areas and Theon was standing on one of them, facing the darkness of the forest. His arms spread wide, he looked like a sacrifice. Ramsay was behind Theon and slowly removing the boy's shirt and pants, touching him, staring into the darkness with Theon.

"Might I ask what the living fuck you two gentlemen are doing?"

Without a shred of shame, Ramsay turned to grin at Tyrion, still unzipping Theon's fly slowly.

"This isn't allowed, right? And it's almost curfew. I am trying to disprove the existence of this Tickler. I am going to jerk off Theon on the rock, watching to see if the Tickler will come and rip our cocks off."  

"What the hell kind of logic is that? You will get caught by someone and get your asses beat is what will happen. Whether it be the Tickler, Polliver or Gregor. And gods  help you if Unella strolls on by. Feel like having some shock therapy treatments? Jeyne will enjoy the break, I am sure."

Theon turned and looked at Tyrion with hollow eyes filled with some very dark excitement that Tyrion didn't wish to see or think about.

"It's okay, Tyrion. We aren't going to go any further than this rock and only my ejaculation will be out of the boundaries. And we will be inside by curfew."

Ramsay hugged Theon from behind and gave Tyrion a very polite but sarcastic smirk. With a large sigh, the teacher decided it wasn't worth his precious free time.

"Very well then. Do not say that I didn't warn you. Have fun until you can't, boys! Watch out for that Tickler!"

Tyrion nearly ran home at that point, wishing he hadn't lost his silver flask. It must be around somewhere though he is fairly certain by now it is empty and full of a student's DNA. It could have been the terror twins or the horror-porn twins, he isn't sure which. But he is sure one of them knows damn right well where his flask is! Hurrying inside his comfortable neat little hobbit house as Stannis dubbed it, Tyrion ran straight for his impressive liquor cabinet.

A wonderful gift from Kevan the last year for Tyrion's excellent work.

In their last batch of students just before the feral, the fat boy and the slut showed up, there was a particular student that worked with Tyrion as his mentor. The boy was brilliant if misguided. Tyrion tutored this boy in dictation, languages and more. Soon enough, Kevan became interested in the boy's talents. When the young man graduated, Kevan employed the young man as a translator for him and Tywin for their international work with other companies.

It was Tyrion's crowning moment and he felt that his gaming table, his expansive liquor cabinet, the Persian rugs on his cabin floor...all were earned. He was proud of it and rightfully so.

Downing more vodka made Tyrion calmer and he sank onto his couch.

Stannis and Loras are working together more often, in fact, Loras asked Stannis about getting a proper haircut and the professor offered to do it himself. Sansa seeks out Tyrion. He hopes this might be another crowning moment for him. The girl is clever, brilliant and deep down she seems good hearted, just misguided. He sees a darker spark in her, he won't deny it's existence. But Tyrion believes it doesn't have to turn that way with proper motivation and support. Tyrion works best with those types of children. He has high hopes for Sansa and Loras. Even higher hopes for himself and Stannis. If they both graduate students that Kevan can be impressed by, the professors may finally achieve their dreams!

The teacher fell into an alcohol fueled sleep, dreaming of the gaming center that Stannis and Tyrion have begged Kevan for.

 

Part of Hot Pie was waiting for the punchline, the joke, when Polliver invited the boy inside his cabin. He looked around with admiration, it was a small place, just one bedroom, kitchenette and living room. The furniture was nothing special, it was a decorative style only known as "first apartment for single guy" but Hot Pie dug it. He sat on the overstuffed leather couch that was clearly ancient. It wheezed when he sat down on it then the cushion seemed to give up the fight, sink down and die.

Polliver laughed. "If you had sat on my couch when you first got here a year ago, with all that fat...you would have destroyed it. Now it just wheezes like it does to everyone who sits on that damned old thing. One minute, kiddo. I am serving YOU tonight. Stay there a sec and relax."

Hot Pie couldn't relax but he did stay seated and looked about the room. He stiffened and stared hard, his breathing getting a bit choppy when he noticed the console on Polliver's really large screen television sitting on an immense gaming table. Then the boy received another shock when Polliver came back in and handed him an open beer.

"Go on, you deserve it. And you'll need it for the stories. Trust me. We need to hurry it up cause curfew is coming. If we run late, I have to walk you back so Tickler doesn't destroy you. So get comfy and stop staring at the beer, it won't bite you, have a sip."  

Hot Pie sipped the beer, grimaced then took another sip and his face straightened out.

"It's not bad at all. I like it, thank you. Uh...is that.."

Polliver saw the boy staring at his console and laughed heartily.

"Yup, its all mine. And I have over eighty games too. I earned it. Kevan is generous to those who please him. You will earn things for your cabin too someday soon. I can feel it in my bones, boy! Now, tear your eyes from my gaming unit, if you please. I am nervous you might go jack off onto it when I hit the bathroom later...you know that I can't let you play it. At least...not yet. I am sure that you can learn to play without getting addicted again....but I want to be sure of your mental state, kiddo. Let's get through this full month and if Kevan shits stars over your progress, I will let you play a game with me. For now, we need to chat so you can be set straight. I want you to trust me, let my wisdom guide you, so I am telling you a little past history. Drink and keep your eyes off my console and your hands off your prick!"

With a flushed face, Hot Pie looked away, moved so he would only see Polliver and gulped half the beer down all at once. He let out a tremendous burp and felt a little dizzy and silly. Polliver grinned and said, "Excuse the hog, the pig will speak next." He burped the entire alphabet after taking a swallow of his beer, this made Hot Pie laugh.

Settling on a lounge chair with extended leg comfort, Polliver started to speak, when he offered another beer, Hot Pie took it eagerly. He was no longer thinking of that amazing console, the boy was caught up in the story.

"I will not go into my weeping dramatic past. Let's just say I came from a rough family in a really rough neighborhood. I was drinking when I was a baby, my mom was a heavy drinker and a heavy sleeper. So she would put a little whiskey into my bottle whenever she fed me. By the time I was five I was rolling the old lady's joints for her and lighting her crack pipe. When I was eleven I was robbing stores, had a switchblade and fucking terrorized the kids at school, was a real bad bully, had some bad temper issues, ya know? So one day when I was around fourteen or so, I robbed this liquor store with some buddies. I had stolen a gun from my piece of shit step dad, I held it on the cashier while the others grabbed the money and some beer. The cashier, some grizzled old fucking asshole, he grabbed for a rifle he had under the counter. When he swung up with it, I shot him in the arm to make him drop it. The bastard dropped the gun alright, he also dropped dead of a heart attack right then and there. Didn't take long for the cops to find me...my fucking asshole step-fucker turned me in! I was really lucky that Kevan took me in. I was at a juvenile denter center from hell and was looking at being tried as an adult for murder. My  mother decided to give me up to the state before my trial was anywhere near to starting. I was fucked. Then these two dandy dressers came strolling through the joint and found me, talked to me. They told me of Kevan's school, it was still new enough that they scouted out students from detention centers and courthouses. I leaped, I fucking JUMPED at the offer, Hot Pie. It was this or prison, possibly for most of my life."

Polliver took a long pull off his bottle and then stretched out lazily. He swept one hand over the buzz cut on his head and his lips were carved into a cruel smirk but his bullet hard eyes showed the slightest touch of wild, painful wistfulness. It was gone before Hot Pie was sure it was ever there.

"My mother was thrilled at the idea, the state was thrilled with not dealing with me anymore and here I was shipped. Gregor came on the fucking crazy bus and I was thrown into the school. Oh, sure I had wanted to come here...but only because I didn't want to spend my life behind bars. I had thought to come here and then escape. I was great at running away, I had so much practice in it. I was a complete dick, Hot Pie. Refused to go to therapies and the doctor. Fought with all them, teachers, counselors, even Kevan. I swore once at Kevan. He had Unella stitch my lips shut for a full day for that. I can't tell you how many times Gregor buried me, kiddo. I would run away and there was no where to go. Whether it's the forest, the fields, the road...no matter what direction I chose...we are too far to walk away out of here and they always find you...always. I got my ass beat almost on a daily basis for sometime, had to practically live in detention."

Hot Pie laughed at the images in his head of a teenage Polliver getting buried and beat by Gregor. Of a rebellious teenage Polliver fucking with the system that he now forces upon others with eager vigor. He was halfway through the second beer and feeling quite nice. Polliver grinned at him and winked.

"How you doing there, buddy? Getting a buzz? No worries, I will guide you home safely later, Hot Pie."

Hot Pie gave his mentor a wide goofy smile full of teeth. "Thanks. I'm fine. Keep going, please!"

Polliver took another swallow and put the empty bottle in the small recycling bin then got another. He sat back in his chair, his limbs settling into the chair, opened his bottle, took one sip and continued.

"What kept my sanity while I was fighting the school, was Raff. He was my roommate. Raff was there just before I got there, he had the room to himself for a about two weeks then I was thrown into it. Same age, similar hatred of the school and eager to get away or tear the fucking place down around him. Raff had a whole different story, he was rich, from a good family. He was handsome, perfect and intelligent with money, how can that ever be bad. Right? It was bad though, his father was some asshole who was always on him to be better, do more, always play the right part at the right time. And Raff cracked under the strain. He was going to be a doctor, his parents were determined, he was groomed for it. The kid was like, fifteen and playing violin and piano, taking college classes at a fancy prep school, playing tennis, killing it at math competitions, studying like a madman in between. He just had enough and went bam. Started hanging with a bad crowd, doing fancy drugs that he got at fancy clubs that pretended he was old enough to go inside. Raff didn't date any girls, but he was certainly interested in them. He had a few...incidents and bam, his parents landed him here rather than in prison. He and I got along real well. He was the brains and I was the brawn and boy, did we give the staff a run for their money."

Hot Pie didn't want to ask what incidents, but his mouth wasn't listening to the slowly numbing brain. "What...incidents? What did Raff do?"

Smiling, Polliver shook his head. "That isn't a part of this story that matters. If you want to know what Raff did, you'll have to ask him."

Snorting, Hot Pie waved his hand. "Uh uh. I don't think that would be good for me. I don't want to have revenge from the nurse who handles my medications and is my head re-arranger, thank you!"

Hot Pie continued to enjoy the buzz and Polliver was trying to catch up, to get a good buzz going took longer for him. He continued to talk but turned the story from bleak to hysterical. Hot Pie laughed so hard that beer came out of his nose in a burning rush when Polliver told him of the calender revenge. Polliver told Hot Pie of all the pranks and tricks and escape plots the two had come up with. Then he told Hot Pie how they slowly began to calm down, to understand the staff was helping them.

"I didn't trust any of them for a long time. I saw only abusive pricks, I saw only enemies for a really long time. Raff picked his mentor around sixteen, a year after he'd been here. I still hadn't done that yet, I even teased him over it. But Raff started to get more serious about his school work, he started to pay attention, to work in the program instead of against it so much. He still loved tearing shit up with me...but Raff also started to see how things were going to be for us. He spent time with his new damned mentor, that boring fuck, Stannis. Then Raff started to get assistance and training from Unella herself and I was pissed, I was jealous and frustrated. I got worse in my attitude while Raff was getting better. Gregor decided he was going to be my mentor whether I like it or not. I wasn't happy about it at all, of course. But Gregor went between abuse and therapy until he finally managed to help me pull my head out of my ass."

Hot Pie laughed along with Polliver and accepted a third beer.

"Dude, that is the last one for you tonight. Drink it slowly and if you start to feel sick even a little, put it down. Okay?"

"Sure. Thanks for letting me have the beer and for the stories. Please keep going!"

"No problem, buddy. So Gregor bluntly laid out what prospects I had in life. Like I did with you. I had no future but prison beyond this school. Even if I slipped through or evaded the law, I would do what to survive? The only things I knew how to do. I would go back to robberies or dealing drugs or rolling drunks for a bit of cash. Or I could stay here, learn and get a good job or career through the grace of Kevan. Guess which path I chose? Right? After I started to attempt the program, to really work with the staff, I saw results like Gregor said I would. Turned out I had a talent too. When new unruly students would show, I would be the one to stop the violence, to talk down the freaked out and to help them adjust to the school. Kevan started to encourage me to become a counselor and I was all for it. It didn't happen in one day or all at once. Felt like fucking forever, I wasn't a patient kid. But I learned how to go about things, how to make myself noticed, how to gain favors from the stupid ass kissing shit that you have to suffer through now. Raff went through it, I went through it and so will you. They started letting me do less of the school crap and started training with Gregor. I was graduated before I was even totally given the official word from Kevan that I was going to be a counselor at the school. After I finished getting that stupid diploma, I was launched. I spent the summer training with Gregor and in the fall, I was given my cabin, my staff clothing and baton by Kevan. Course, staff clothing just means jeans and a white shirt with the damned school name scrawled on the back in gold. Might as well stamp a gold Princess on the pants ass too...but I was proud as fuck over it. Raff had the same time table as me by then and he was taking online classes while working closely with Unella and Stannis. He started as the school nurse that fall too. He didn't actually finish nursing school yet but Kevan thought hands on training would be best."

When Hot Pie left an hour past curfew, he was fully drunk and fully determined to keep his eye on the prize.

If Raff and Polliver could be success stories here, so could Hot Pie. He let Polliver take his arm and lead him to the dorm house. Giggling, the drunk boy crashed into the dark common room and Polliver sighed heavily.

"Drunken idiot, let's not announce to the entire student body what you've been doing tonight. Hush...be quiet and let me get you to your room."

Hot Pie, Myranda and Jeyne have the only rooms that were private. Their bedrooms were just past the kitchen and up a small flight of stairs. Three small bedrooms and one bathroom but that was fine by them. Having a private space was worth it. Polliver pushed Hot Pie into his room and ordered him to go right to bed. Hot Pie nodded then staggered unsteadily into the tiny closet. Laughing softly, the counselor dragged the boy over to the bed and tossed him onto it. The boy was asleep when his body hit the bed. Polliver took off Hot Pie's shoes and threw the bedspread over the kid.

"Dream of good things, dream of a cabin of your own and cooking amazing food for your bestest buddy and mentor, okay?"

Hot Pie only snored and rolled over. Polliver grinned, shook his head and quietly left the room, shutting the door softly behind him. 

 

Chapter Text

Friday morning was no different than any other morning.

Polliver showered, dressed and went about his usual routine. He would go to the cafeteria to meet with Raff and have their first bracing cup of coffee before dealing with medications or ducklings. They would flirt with Myranda who would be mopping the floor and setting up tables. Half listening to Hot Pie and Jeyne babble at each other while the boy prepped food and the girl cleaned up behind him.

Except when Polliver entered the small food house, only Raff was there, staring blankly at the coffee table. The tables were half set, floor freshly mopped but no Myranda.

"No coffee. I can't live anymore. Not a drop. Take me out kindly, Polly. I'm done for. No coffee."

Tilting the pot and examining it, Polliver sniffed and felt tears well.

"It can't be. Maybe something is wrong with the pot? No coffee? Is the boy dead? Did he die?"

Raff shrugged.

"Did you give him more beer? A bad hangover? With a flu? Then he died?"

Polliver shook his head finally tearing his eyes from the empty mocking pot.

"No. Only Wednesday night. We had runny eggs and burnt potatoes next morning and it was still on time. And there was coffee."

They looked into the kitchen and there was food prepped, ready to cook. No Hot Pie and no Jeyne but there was an open back door. Both of them walked to it and stepped onto the small back porch. Just in time to see the most interesting sight that was not meant for the eyes of a decaffeinated staff.

Jeyne was running, fleeing from Hot Pie and Myranda across the back lawn directly past the porch. That alone would have been interesting enough since the three were not known for such antics together. They were a close knit trio but they never fought or chased each other before. Also, Hot Pie and Myranda knew better than to ever challenge or chase the feral as it could be very dangerous. And both of them were not noted for extreme courage or conflict.

But that wasn't what made it so interesting, what made both men just stare numbly, just standing side by side, arms dangling. No, the interesting part was the bald, thin feral girl was running on all fours and was fast, it seemed to be an unnatural grace. Her limbs were at all the wrong angles, her neck was curved so her eyes could focus hard in front of her. The jeans and shirt struggled to maintain her body but losing the battle.

Barefoot, cheap denim tearing at seams on her legs, unable to move at canine angels and the white t shirt was halfway up her back. The spine bulged as if trying to come through the thin useless white flesh and the front of her shirt dragged upon the ground. Her fingers dug into the earth, tearing it up as she plunged forth, her teeth glistening through a fierce grimace.

Then another interesting thing followed as the boy who once couldn't manage a single sit up, learned to fly. Hot Pie went from running to launching himself into the air. He had his arms straight out and he fell in a graceful arc, flattening the feral with a thud. A hissing Myranda climbed onto Hot Pie, grabbed two fistfuls of the wild curls and then pulled as if he were a horse she wanted to stop.

"Did I just see what I thought I saw?" Raff's voice was soft and conversational, his eyes pinned on the writhing, cursing forms on the lawn. Polliver cleared his throat and his voice was calm, relaxed. "As in did I just see a girl run on all fours like she was born to it? Or the boy who flew and landed like a sumo wrestler? The girl riding the boy like a pony she wants to kill?"

They walked down the steps and Polliver pulled out his baton to thump into his hand as they walked towards the three idiots.

"I SEE A HORSE FANTASIZING WHORE, I SEE THE FLYING COOK TURNED SUMO WRESTLER AND I SEE WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT IS THAT ESCAPED FROM UNELLA'S LAB. DO YOU KNOW WHAT I DON'T SEE? I DON'T SEE COFFEE! I DON'T SEE ANY BREAKFAST COOKING OR WORK GETTING DONE!"

At the bellowing of Polliver, the children separated and staggered to their feet. Shifting, trying to pull their clothing back in order, they looked up with a mix of rebellion and terror at the two men. Polliver pointed his baton at Jeyne.

"I see you, girl, don't you dare try to take off on me or I'll-" Polliver sighed as the girl took off running, this time on two legs. In a trick that took time to perfect, Pollliver threw his baton. One second the girl was running, the next the baton twisted in her lower calves and she was flat on the ground. Raff grinned. "Even without coffee. Damn...I love it when you get to do that."

 

Polliver and Raff might have won that battle but they lost the next one. Without coffee, they both were weakened and just without true motivation or deep thought. No matter the threats or persuasions, the three would not discuss why they acted that way. Jeyne remained mute, Myranda gave smiles and misdirection and Hot Pie was the only one who gave anything of a clear response. It was cold and firm. And it was all the boy would say.

"We had a dispute. That's all. There is no further issue. Do you want me to get your coffee? For the disruption, I will bring you and Raff your coffee personally for the rest of the day."

It was too luring and for the first time in recorded history, Polliver and Raff utterly caved in and they took the carrot with desperate hands. "Fine. All day and until curfew tonight you are our barista bitch, Hot Pie. Now move before I whack you! Whore, Feral, get your asses in gear! GO!"

Raff watched as the three ran back inside then he narrowed his eyes in the direction they had been running from. The direction leading towards the clinic and the path leading towards Kevan's house. "Maybe I should go check the clinic quick? Just in case?" Polliver shoved Raff and headed towards the back door, led by his need for coffee. "Unella is in there. She always goes there before breakfast, she would have raised holy hell if things were missing or wrecked. And these three have never had interest in drugs. Why would they go in there? I mean, if you really want, after coffee you can strip search them."

The coffee sounded way more satisfying than strip searching three students that have never shown urges to rob, wreck or seek out drugs since arriving at the school. Both men let it go and instead thought of the fun they will have calling on Hot Pie for coffee all day.

 

Myranda threw her suitcase on her bed and opened it, surveying it's contents. Every gift ever given to her by one of the men she visits is surveyed and usually kept by Kevan. He allows her to use some of the minor jewelry and smaller gifts like music boxes, make up and hair products that she usually tries to ask for. But sexy garments, fancy clothes and good jewelry is all kept by Kevan. Her brand name suitcase and matching travel case are kept in Kevan's keep as well.

When it's time for Myranda to go on another weekend visit, the luggage is returned to her. Whatever items she has been given in the past is usually within it so she can transform herself into a high priced sexy gift from Kevan. Usually it will be Bob or Harold that will come to her bedroom the night before with the luggage. They will tell her only the barest details she must know. What time she leaves, what methods of transportation, whether she will need to stop for food and then a reiteration of what she is to do.

She adds only a few items, mostly hygienic ones then tossed a book or two in there. In spite of exotic locations or exciting ones, Myranda was mostly stuck seeing it from windows, balconies and over tall gates. So books help when sometimes they are in a location that has television but nothing in a language she can understand. With a sigh, Myranda sang out,

"I know you are under the bed, Jeyne. Come on out and talk to me before I leave. I'm not mad at you anymore, Hot Pie isn't either. We are concerned. We are worried for you, about this stupid thing you did. You are being manipulated, dearie, we see it even if you don't. I know that you think it's just a favor owed to you now. But how do you know that the favor will be returned? And what you did, that carries a heavy fucking penalty here if you got caught! What if Raff figured out where you were? What if he had decided to search us? You wouldn't even get the NICE punishments from Gregor or Polliver for that shit. You might be our nurse's favorite but you aren't Unella's. And Kevan! Sweet gods, did you even think that far? If Unella decided her lobotomy treatment wasn't quite enough, she would have handed you over to Kevan for judgment."

A slender hand followed by a long white arm appeared to climb up the side of the bed, followed by the rest of Jeyne in a fluid quick movement. The girl knelt up just before the suitcase and the bald head tilted upwards to look at Myranda.

"She will help with my revenge. Has been helping, advising me. It was worth it. I got what she needed and what I needed."

Myranda gave a growl of frustration and grabbed onto the bald head and stuck her face forth into the feral one. "Stupid girl. Listen to me, you might know all about being a predator but I know more about females, human non feral ones, way more than you do! That girl is trouble, she is a big huge danger sign. I want you to see that red hair and think of a big red stop sign, okay? Please, hear me, Jeyne. No help from that one is real help. Every word, every smile, every kind word is like that needle that Raff hides when we lose control. He speaks soft and pretty, then he jabs hard with his sharp little needle. So does this bitch, trust me. I know her kind."

Jeyne whined and Myranda let her go after kissing then swatting her head. "I know she is not really nice. I can tell, I can see. But I don't care, I don't want her to be a friend, I want to get revenge. She was a way to do that. But Sansa is very smart, head smart, I bet her plans are way better than mine are."

"Forget musing about what gingercunt is about to do! I have to go soon and I don't want to spend my whole time worrying about you! The plan you have is crazy, it's too dangerous. It will work, sure, but at what cost? To you? Do you think you won't get one FUCK of a revenge punishment back from Kevan, if not Gregor and Unella, for it?"

Jeyne crawled into the suitcase and curled up, managing to fully fit in it. Myranda laughed and shook her head, sitting on the side of the bed. "I wish I could take you with me. Well, at least for the company in between the rest of things! But can you imagine the terror you could cause those old perverts? The old bastard would have a heart attack! We'd have a great vacation pretending he was fine, just resting...Too bad it wouldn't work."

Jeyne wrinkled her nose as she saw the huge box of lubricated condoms, the birth control pills and the damsel dam.

"It's not right. Not fair to you. Do you really want to do this? Why do you do it? Like Hot Pie wants to cook here?" Myranda gave her little naive friend a smile, it was a kindly one from a wise person to a child. "No, I hate doing this, I'm just good at something I hate doing. I don't mind if it's younger men or older ones, if they are good looking or if they have something I really want from them. But this...is horrible but Kevan doesn't ask, he tells me what to do, you know how that goes, don't you? I do it without complaint because it leads to something better. Kevan said if I do this then soon he will find the right man for me to either be mistress to or marry if I am real lucky! It will be a very rich powerful connection or enemy that Kevan wants someone that can always spy on."

Jeyne tilted her head, craned her neck and slowly her back rose as if slowly surging upwards towards Myranda. She stared intently into Myranda's eyes, as if trying to understand. "But...can you trust Kevan to keep his promises? You say to trust no one, not a single student or staff member. But...this is something you trust in?"

"To be honest, I have to hope for the best. I have to hope that if I can pleasing him, that Kevan will keep his word. I think he means it, he has already mentioned three names to me that might suit him." Myranda rubbed Jeyne's head playfully until the girl ducked away, giggling.

"I mean what I said, Jeyne. Stay away from the red head. Stay away from those new kids, they aren't like us, honey. Nothing like you, me or Hot Pie. They are rich, spoiled, tricky and cruel, no matter what they pretend. Trust me on that. Do no favors, offer nothing and take nothing from them."

Nodding, Jeyne crept out of the luggage and lay on her stomach across the bed so her head was level with Myranda's knee. "I won't anymore. I gave Sansa what she needed, she gave me what I needed. All done. All over. No more students. Just you, me and Hot Pie. I hear you. But...you got a joint from Ramsay by going with him and Theon into the garden shed a while back." Myranda angrily muttered, "Yeah, I did and look what I got for it. Hardly worth the damned joint. I am a perfect example of why you should never trust these students!"

Jeyne winced at the memory of seeing Myranda's breasts with deep purple bruised bite marks, three burns from lit cigarettes and a bunch of shallow cuts on her stomach and inner thighs. She ended up in the clinic since Ramsay had apparently tried to bite her in worse places, very tender ones. Gregor took was the one to punish Ramsay for causing damage to Myranda. Jeyne heard Ramsay screaming and crying all night, no one got any sleep in the house. She found out from Joff as they all staggered into the common room, giving up on sleep, that Gregor had shoved a ginger root up Ramsay and he wasn't allowed to have it removed until morning.

Myranda shook off the bad memory and stood up to zipper her luggage up. "Never, no matter what is offered to you, never take Ramsay or Theon's lure, ever. They are dangerous, they are only in enough control to stop when they have to. But I don't think that is going to last. There is something so very wrong there. Leave them alone, never be alone with them! I have to go, honey. I am going to miss you guys, but I won't be gone long. Be home Sunday night, you can tell me all the gossip!"

Groaning, Jeyne rolled across the bed and then whined out, "It's that stupid parents visit this weekend! I hate it when strangers invade us, staring at me! I spend the whole time hiding away! And Hot Pie can't hang out with me because he is serving drinks and food the whole time! If you aren't there, I will have to help with setting up, clean up and helping him serve things! I don't care what Gregor says or does, I will wear a hood or hat if I have to help out. Though if my revenge goes right, it won't really matter, will it?"

Myranda rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't count on that, if I were you. I really wish you would wait until I returned for your revenge ploy. That way I can comfort you after or at least cry over your freshly dug and hidden grave."

 

Chapter Text

The children burst out of the school as if it were the beginning of a summer vacation then skidded to a halt at the sight of Polliver at the bottom of the stairs. He smiled widely at them and spread his arms wide.

"Hey there, Ducklings! I know, I know, very exciting the first time you experience a half day of school here. To only have to suffer basic academics and not be forced to endure your usual gym and other workshops all afternoon. However, let us NOT forget why we have this wonderful half day! After lunch you will have exactly four hours before you best be groomed, dressed and ON TIME to see Kevan. He has received all your reports and will speak personally with each of you about them. This should make a few of you happy and the rest of you scared to death. We will all meet on time at the front lawn. I expect silent ducks in a line for Unella to fuss with in case there is a cowlick or an asshole who stained something. Then in a very orderly fashion you will go into Kevan's home with me. You will behave in your very best high society rich uptight fashion taught to you by your betters. Each of you will get a chance to be seen in his office. You will wait your turn with silence and respect. Now, go eat your lunch and plan mischief that doesn't fuck with those plans."

 

After lunch, Damon and Sansa went back to the bedroom to work on a new book. Damon didn't like it but wouldn't say that to Sansa. The book was full of scary stories for little kids. How could Damon tell Sansa that a kiddie book scares him? The worst one was a story of a short squat man with a flowing black trench coat and a nightmarish huge smile full of jagged teeth.

But Sansa was so kind to find this book for him and help that Damon tried to just concentrate on the reading of the words. He ignored the pictures as much as he could as he read through it with her.

"That was really good, superhero! Look how fast you are picking this up! I am proud of your hard work, truly. Now, as a reward, let's practice something I know you are really good at and enjoy! This time you can teach me something, how about that?"

Damon grinned and blushed. "I don't know nothing that you couldn't do better than me, Sansa."

With a near seductive smile and a warm look in her eyes, Sansa sauntered closer and drawled out, "Oh, I don't think that is true at all. You have talents, even if you aren't aware of them, superstar. I mean, during our physical activities with Gregor, you can do far more than me. I would faint before managing half of those exercises you have to do. All the weight lifting and boxing, wrestling and even chopping up wood like that or cutting branches with a chain saw. I can't do any of that."

Damon shrugged. "So? You can do jogging, running, archery, gardening, chemistry and I can't do any of that good. I can use a whip real well but they won't let me have my whip here."

Sansa smiled.

"I have heard about Damon Dance With Me. Ramsay told us those stories during dinner once, remember? He was trying to upset us while we were eating and it didn't work out. You would use your whip on victims, make them dance for you, make them do anything you wanted. But I just like the part of how talented you were with a whip. It is a unique thing. But you are right, no whips here for us."

With a toss of her long red tresses, Sansa touched Damon's large hand and caressed it.

I love how you box, your fists are huge and rock hard, I imagine it must feel so powerful and gratifying to box. I want you to teach me a little bit of it. Would you do that for me, superhero?"

"Sure...but I don't know that I am the best person to teach you. We can go to the gym and get the gloves on and I can show you some easy moves."

Sansa's face went kind of sad and her shoulders slumped slightly. Her voice was a wealth of gentle disappointment. "Oh. Well, never mind then. Remember, they would all see and question why we were doing such a thing. It might lead to the question of what we do in here...it was a stupid thought of mine anyway. I'm sorry. I'll just go see if Loras wishes to work on the calender, I guess."

Damon blocked her as she went to walk away and grabbed her shoulders. "Wait, I can show you right here. I can teach you without gloves, sure! Don't take off and do some boring school thing with that fucking pansy. Please, Sansa?"

"Oh, okay. But only if you are sure. You know boxing better than I do, if we must have gloves and a gym then we can just forget it. I don't want to do the wrong thing and make you feel uncomfortable." Damon was adamant that it was fine so Sansa gave in with a brilliant smile. She paid attention as Damon showed her a few moves and then tried them for herself. Damon stood behind her and helped her move the right way.

"I don't totally feel I get this one. Listen, I learn a different way then you do. Let's try it another way. Stand in front of me instead and see how I do it. If I need it, I can see you try it." Damon stood in front of Sansa and watched her attempt the short jab with one fist then a longer one with the other. He offered a small bit of correction and Sansa tried again. He told her it was better but she asked if he would show her one more time.

Damon had no idea what happened. They were so careful to stand far enough apart, how could Sansa have moved forward so fast? Why would she do that? There was no way to stop himself in time and his large bare fist crashed hard into her left shoulder, dislocating it. She gave a small cry of pain and Damon cried out in horror. "Oh gods! I am so sorry! What...look at your poor shoulder!" Damon was nearly in tears but Sansa remained calm even as she paled under the pain.

"Listen, it was my own fault, I fell forward. I will be fine, it's just a minor dislocation that the doctor can fix easily. I will go see her and come back to show you I am fine. Why don't you read through that book while I go? We can see how far you got when I return, alright? Do not feel guilty and don't cry, I don't blame you one bit, silly boy! Superheros don't beat up their tutors, we both know that. Now, I will be back very soon, go read that book!"

"I should go with you! You shouldn't go walking around like that without someone. Besides, they might want to know how you got hurt and I did it by accident but I still did it." Sansa shook her head firmly and shoved the large man onto his bed. "No, no offense, but you have a bad reputation of hurting others and worse to ladies, thanks to Ramsay! They would assume you came to make sure I didn't get you in trouble for it! They would think the worst. But they trust me and always listen to what I say, you know that. So if I am the one to tell them, they will believe me that you are not guilty of anything. That you just had a clumsy student for boxing!"

Damon laughed along with Sansa but still felt uneasy about staying here. Sansa left and Damon picked up the book with a shudder. He hoped she got back before he had to read the dreadful story with the monster man.  

 

Unella's steely gaze took in the shoulder then Sansa's blank face. She clearly didn't believe that it was an accident. Sansa had told her the story in a blank if slightly strained voice while looking at the floor. The shoulder was rotated back into place and a sling was given as well as painkillers. Then Unella stood in front of the girl and forced her to look up.

"Boxing doesn't happen in a bedroom and without gloves. And no one is stupid enough to walk directly into those large fists. I want you to understand something. We take sexual assault and physical assault very seriously here. I understand with your family and the way the world is, you would be reluctant to speak out. This is not the world and your rich family is not here. In Kevan's world, if you are being victimized by another student, once you tell us, it will be handled, quickly and without the world ever knowing of it. I can promise you that if Damon is hurting you, that we will protect you. But you must tell us, you must say it for me to fix it."

Paling like milk, Sansa shook her head so fast that her hair flew like a cloud of fire. "No! No, there is no abuse. None. Please, it was only a small accident. Please, can I just go now?" With a sigh, Unella nodded and stepped aside to open the door. "Very well. Just remember what I said. Tell any of the staff and we will help you immediately. You can reach me at any time, any hour if you decide you would like to talk or receive some assistance, Sansa."

Sansa nodded, avoiding eye contact and ran out the door, nearly flattening Raff on her way out of the door. After she was gone, Raff looked at Unella. "What the hell was that all about?" Unella looked back at him and shrugged. "I am not sure, really. Damon might be speaking with Ramsay too much without our knowing it. Can you ask Polliver to see about that? I'll speak to Gregor too. We might need to change their roommates soon, just to be safe."

 

Harold and Bob left with Myranda while Hot Pie and Jeyne watched wistfully.

"She gets a limousine ride then a private jet to some exotic great place. We get to serve a bunch of parents and staff all weekend. Yay, us." Jeyne patted Hot Pie's shoulder as he mourned himself. Jeyne smiled. "I have something to look forward to. Revenge. Today. At our visit to Kevan." Hot Pie winced and grabbed Jeyne's hand.

"No! Not then of all times! You know that Kevan loves his rituals and goes rabid if they are fucked with! If you tell him during your report time, not only do you interrupt him, but then ruin the whole thing. He will have to focus on your revenge instead of his grand lectures and speeches! And then deal with what you've told him about them! He will be pissed and everyone pays, you will most of all for causing his interruption! Find another time to do it!"

With a heavy sigh, Jeyne nodded. She did see the sense in what Hot Pie said. "Okay, you are right. I won't do it during the reports." Hot Pie let go of her hand with a smile of relief. "Good. Okay, we have another two hours before we have to get ready so what should we do? Hey!" Jeyne ran away rather rudely and he snorted. He stormed off, hoping to get a chance to find a good show on the television in the commons room.

As he passed by the open window of one of the dorm bedrooms heading towards the front door, he heard something that made him shiver.

Ramsay's voice was a teasing lilt. "Okay, next picture. Who did this one?" Theon's voice was full of a dark soft yearning to please as he responded. "Ted Bundy, right?" "Good boy! Correct. Okay, how about this picture? Who did this?" "Ah...oh, BTK!" "Right again! You are really getting good at this."

With a shiver, Hot Pie moved away faster and when he got to the common room, he made sure to turn the volume on the show up rather loud.

 

Kevan was sipping at a crystal glass of scotch while relaxing, digesting his salmon and wild rice lunch. He had on soft music, it lightly swelled up from the old cherry wood stereo his grandparents bought brand new when they still were just earning their fortunes. A well dressed servant came forth and spoke.

"Excuse me, Sir? One of your students is at the door, they wish to see you and said it's a matter of urgency. Shall I contact one of the staff or let the girl in?"

Intrigued at a bold move that few students would dare make, Kevan said to let the child inside. He stood up, straightening his smoking jacket and checking the mirror to see his ascot was firmly in place as was his flowing mane of hair. Kevan was mildly surprised to see Jeyne slink into the room, fully hooded. She timidly inched as close as she dared, which was halfway across the room from him. Her hands scrabbled each other without making purchase and her head was down.

"Well, my dear, this is a rather unconventional thing, you seeking me out. My maid said it was urgent?" Kevan sat back down in his chair and swept a graceful hand towards the couch. "Please, have a seat, it makes me nervous if you stand and pace. Sit down and tell me what is wrong, Jeyne."

The girl stalked on stiff legs to the couch and perched on the edge of it. "I am sorry to bother you, Sir. And I am new at this so I will make a mess of it. But I want to try and I can only hope you won't be angry at me for trying something. Raff says I will find my talent if I really apply myself and try to learn, to work with him and the staff. So I want to see if this is my talent."

Kevan leaned forward. "Oh, you think you have found your talent and I am the first one you wished to show? I am very touched by that, Jeyne. How wonderfully kind of you to share it with me first." His voice was condescending and it was clear that Kevan felt the girl had come to waste his time with her misguided but sweet notion. Jeyne saw this and gave a small bitter smile. She looked directly at the man, into his eyes and spoke slow but clear.

"I might be a feral but I am not stupid or sweet, Sir. I don't read or write well and I have trouble with lots and lots of things. But I am not dumb or slow. I learn, I hear and I see. Myranda is a spy, she does other things to be a spy, I know that. I won't do those things, I can't. But I hear, I see and I listen, I even collect. And I am a spy, I think. I can prove it to you with information you do not have but would like. May I please do that? I can prove myself right now, right here."

Kevan nodded, somewhat intrigued by this girl's attitude. "Alright then, impress me with your spying skills."

Normally Kevan would have offered some scorching insults or lectures first about bothering him this way. However, even Kevan tread lightly with Jeyne as she is unpredictable and this room was full of easily destroyed treasures. He settled back in his chair and prepared to hear the worst spying news possible, like how Hot Pie gave extra food to a student perhaps. Or some large cheating scam at the school.

Then Jeyne began to speak in a fast, factual tone and Kevan found himself sitting up straighter, paying attention.

 

"Unella and Gregor have been having sex for some time. They hide it, they sneak and I know the exact times they do it. Until a week ago, since then they only fight, no more sex, just constant arguing worse than before. And then I found this and Unella crying." Jeyne carefully pulled a clear bag out of her pocket with a used pregnancy test in it and laid it on Kevan's coffee table. It was clearly positive.

"Gregor is making arrangements for her to leave and secretly get an abortion. He called some doctor called Qyburn and plans for the two of them to ask for time off. They would make it look like it was separate small vacations. Unella would ask for two days off and leave, Gregor would leave the day after, meet her at the clinic."

Jeyne looked at Kevan and shrugged. "It is what I have got for information, I hope its enough to prove I can spy well. If it is of no use to you, I can simply use the information to torment the two by telling all the other kids." Kevan stared hard at Jeyne and then gave a slow rich chuckle that was somehow terrible but nice too. He stood up and walked over to the girl. Clasping his hands behind his back, he smiled down at her.

"What a clever minx, you are becoming! I don't think Gregor understood when he shaved your head, I don't think Unella understood when she used you like a lab rat, I don't think they understood what hell they may have unleashed. Very good revenge, Jeyne. Good work. And I applaud your spying efforts to do it! Now, you do know that once I've disciplined my employees for their crime against my rules, they will come after you. They will ask me how I got the test, how I knew so much and I will not lie to cover up your revenge plot. I will tell them if they ask who it was that told me. They will come after you and while I don't believe they would dare to go beyond my limits, they will certainly get you back for your revenge. But I think you knew that and are ready for it. That level of aggression against the staff worries me, Jeyne."

Jeyne shrank back slightly and stared into the dangerous waters of Kevan's calculating eyes. Kevan leaned forward until she was pressed hard into the cushions. "Listen to me very carefully. If I want you to be a spy, I will tell you so or Raff will tell you so. Let me tell you what you are right now. You are a freakish feral that is trying very hard to become a real human girl. We strive to help you with this, don't we? And you are so close, so very close, Jeyne. I want to see you succeed here, I want to be able to claim that we cured you. Unella and Raff desperately both want that, as do I. But if Unella accidentally fries your brain or gives you the wrong medication and you kill yourself, or if Gregor breaks your neck, no happy ending for any of us with you. If I think that there is no hope to save your poor disturbed mind, no hope..."

Kevan waited until Jeyne was sobbing and huddled on the couch before he relented.

"Calm yourself, dear. Please, here is a hanky, that couch is delicate, do not stain it with your fluids. Now, I will finish your sweet clever revenge for you and you will leave to rest in your room. Compose yourself and get ready for our report time later. No more spying unless requested, hear me, Jeyne? Good girl. I will inform Raff of our discussion here so that he may counsel you better on your thoughts of both hidden talents and revenge tactics. You are dismissed."

Kevan watched the girl flee the room and then he took out his cell phone. He texted Gregor and Unella, asking them to please come to the house. Passing a servant, he spoke in a hard tone. "Tell Gregor and Unella to come to my study immediately. Also, bring me that plastic bag on the table then please see that the table is cleaned and disinfected. Thank you, Gilly."

 

Chapter Text

Kevan placed a quick call to Raff while he waited for his prey to show. 

"Raff, guess who just gave me a lovely visit? Your little subject of that cute film you think I don't know your making. The main character of the book that you think Unella doesn't know about. My favorite little charity pet and you are utterly aware of how and why this girl is here. Everyone knows, but we never mention that, do we? No, because it is distasteful and best left quiet. Right? Of course, you understand that. Because you understand there is "knowing" something and then there is "knowing" something. Perhaps you might wish to explain that to your budding spy? She just informed me that Gregor and Unella were having intimate relations. She also brought me Unella's positive pregnancy test. And though that is spying, it was more obsessive stalking and a feral sign that the girl dug through trash like a raccoon. Of course, now I will have to discipline Gregor and Unella, so the girl got her revenge, at least. However, I won't hide who gave me this information. I will leave it to you to keep the girl from being punished badly enough that I must...inform her father of her demise. Then a favor is lost and I will owe a debt instead. How do you think I will thank Unella and Gregor for it? How do you think I would thank you for that?"

Without waiting for a response, he hung up.

 

Kevan looked up to see Unella and Gregor enter. He smiled and graciously waved them forward.

"Ah! There you both are! Please, sit, sit! Much better, hate craning my neck." Kevan waited until they sat and looked at him expectantly before he moved. He used his golden pen to gently push forth the pregnancy test still in it's bag. "Let me be the first to offer congratulations." Unella sucked in her breath just staring at the test. Gregor stared hard at the test then at Kevan with the same hard look. It was not was Kevan was expecting and he toyed with his pen, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, anything you'd like to say, Gregor?"

"You told me that you did not spy on us, that you didn't go searching through our stuff. Was that a lie? Because that was in my trash can. The one in my house still."

For a reason that Gregor and Unella couldn't comprehend, that made Kevan burst out laughing with true mirth. They sat stunned and just stared until the man pulled himself together and wiped a tear from his eye.

"Oh dear, perhaps I really gave her less credit than I should have. Points for bravery and true focus. No, Gregor, I have kept my word. I don't spy or search upon you or your private dealings. But students can and do, on occasion. This was a student that was driven by an urge to try her hand at revenge and at spying. She did fairly well at both, I'd say, for a first try."

Unella hissed out, "Jeyne. Dammit!" Gregor looked at Unella. "I will hold her down while you lobotomize her." "Agreed."

Kevan gently cleared his throat while he twirled the pen about his fingers lazily. "Please, do go on discussing how you'll maim my student, don't mind me at all. I can wait for you to finish your extremely important conversation. I can wait until my flesh shrivels away and my bones fade softly into dust if you'd like."

Both turned back to Kevan who gifted them with a sunny smile and raised eyebrows. He spoke quite courtesy. "All done? Are you sure? I don't mind waiting." Once both gave grudging apologies, Kevan nodded. "Good. Excellent. Now then about this situation."

 

The smile was gone, the mirth in Kevan's eyes was wiped away as if it never had been. A frown grew as did the storm clouds in Kevan's eyes. His voice was deep and it was deeply displeased.

"If one student knows that you've been having sex, then they all know. Only one so far knows of the pregnancy and do you think she will only tell me? There was a reason why I made a rule about co workers having relations. Because how can we ask our students to not engage in sexual activity when our staff does it? I do understand that we are rather stranded out here and needs exist. That's why we have offered alternatives and if those aren't tasteful enough then hell, that is why we have averted our eyes to Myranda's doings. And to be honest, we all averted our eyes from the activities of the two of you. But we expected you would be smart enough to hide it from the children. No matter. What is done is done. There are only two options I can see to rectify this."

Kevan leaned back in his chair, crossing one long elegant leg over the other. He took the time to see the crease in his pants weren't affected. Looking back up, Kevan tapped the tip of his pen against his chin.

"One option is to show the children that you take responsibility for your actions by getting married here, by me. Live in the large cabin that's empty and raise that baby. And keep your positions here. The other option is you both get fired and leave disgraced so our students can see that we take our rules seriously. Then you can visit Qyburn for your abortion and tell him how you were fired." That made Unella make a small sound of terror. Kevan gave a slight smirk to her then turned to Gregor.

"Of course, the charges were never dropped against you, Gregor. The crime of murdering children is quite grim, two lovely little children. Not to mention the murder of their mother. This was the best Tywin could do for you and the only thing he will ever do for you again. He doesn't forgive mistakes easily and that one drop of DNA was all it took. Once you leave, you are a wanted man that death row beckons for."

He turned his glacier stare upon Unella who looked sick.

"And Unella, what will become of you? Hmm? How many suffered at your hand, Doctor? Qyburn was grateful that you took the full blame and didn't mention who gave you the orders. That is why he helped you escape here for a sanctuary, a place to escape to before the ethics committee thought to call the police? But if you leave here, if you go back, the ethics committee will have already called, the police will already have your name by then. Not as bad as murder, but deliberately giving diseases to treat them on a pediatrics ward is considered unacceptable by the general public. Then again, I don't think you have to worry about that much, dear. Because once you tell Qyburn that I have fired you and the police will be after you, I think we both know, you won't be leaving that clinic alive. Qyburn can't trust that the police won't find a way to make you tell the truth. Just in case, he'll make sure that won't ever happen."

 

Gregor and Unella stared at Kevan then at each other then back at Kevan. "Shall I inform everyone later that there will be a wedding or a firing?"

Both muttered at the same time. "A wedding, Sir." Kevan beamed and his smile was warm and heartfelt. "Wonderful! As I said when you first sat down, congratulations!"

As they stood to leave the room, Kevan cleared his throat one last time, causing both to flinch and look back at him warily.

"One last small thing before you leave. I am aware that you'll be wanting some revenge of your own upon the feral. I will not stop you but please be aware that if anything you do causes me consequences, you too will feel consequences. How far you go, depends on how far I go. Keep in mind that her father wished her hidden away forever, not tortured or murdered. It is only our own kindness that makes us attempt to make her less feral. And of course, the desires of Unella and Raff to use her as a way to launch books. Of course, since you can never use her picture or her name, nor where you knew her, the book won't make the impact you both hope for. No matter. Please leave, we must all get ready for the reports with the children. It is unfair for them to be on time and waiting on us."

 

Hot Pie looked up from his movie as Jeyne skidded into the room. She looked elated and terrified. "I did it! Did it! Walked into Kevan's house and did it. He will punish them, maybe he will fire them! But...he will said he will tell them who told him that Unella was pregnant. He said Gregor and Unella might lobotomize me. I think I am going to hide in the woods for a week or two this time. Just until it's safe." Groaning, Hot Pie stared up at his idiot friend. "What did you do...forget it, let's hurry and get you what you need so you can run for it."

The door slammed open and Raff came in, looking angry in a way they have never seen before. "JEYNE!" Leaping a foot into the air, Jeyne flew to head for the stairs to her room. "No, get back here right now!" Raff chased her up the stairs, her reached her door as she slammed it shut. He slammed his shoulder into it and Jeyne squeaked as she was shoved back. She ran for the window, hoping to climb onto the roof from it but a hand grabbed her and yanked her back inside. Raff twisted her arm behind her back to immobilize her while he slammed the window shut. Then he dragged her across the room so he could shut the door.

"I told you not to get revenge without talking to me first! I told you to tell me what you've planned so I could tell you whether it would be too dangerous! And you told me that Hot Pie and Myranda warned you off from your revenge! Yet you went ahead and did it anyway! I know you were in the clinic the other day and I know that you were rummaging through trash cans like some filthy rabid beast! All to find a pregnancy test because revenge was so important it was fine to do something so disgusting, right?" The disapproval, scorching anger and bitter disgust in Raff's voice hurt worse than if he struck her.

 

Jeyne cried out, twisting in his arms. "No, no! I didn't do that, didn't go through trash, I am not that way anymore! Please, I swear I wouldn't do that! I had someone else give it to me! I did the rest but not the trash!" Raff spun her around and sat her hard on her bed then stood over her. "Who? Who helped you go through trash?" But Jeyne just shook her head and looked at her lap, tears falling. "I can't tell you that. I'm sorry, I can't. I don't want someone else in trouble for something I did." Raff grabbed her chin and lifted her face up. "Was it Hot Pie or Myranda? Did one of the new students want a hand in causing revenge? Was it Joff or Ramsay?"

"I won't tell you. I won't get another student in trouble when they were helping me. It wasn't Hot Pie or Myranda, they didn't like my plan at all. They didn't know when I would do it and they didn't know I would go right to Kevan the way I did. But I won't say who it was." Jeyne's eyes started to dilate and her breath came faster, her hands turning into claws. Raff backed up slightly and stood up straight.

"I will not make you tell me who it was, Jeyne. Calm down, we won't talk about that anymore. We both must calm down, I'm sorry I got so angry. I am worried because that was a very foolish and dangerous thing you did. And you know that Gregor and Unella will want to return the favor of pain caused. So until I can be sure they are calm enough not to injure or outright slaughter you, all your movements are restricted as of now."

 

Jeyne stood up fast and shook her head. "No! I can just run into the woods and hide for a few days or a week or two! I could survive out there for months if I had to." Raff smirked and put one hand in his pocket to wrap around the needle. "Sweet girl, haven't you noticed that you are always found one way or another? Because there is no real hiding here, no real running away. We can track you to your general location and then it's just a basic search from there. True, you can evade longer than any other here, but only for so long. And don't you think Unella and Gregor will be interested enough to keep looking until they caught up to you?"

The girl looked at Raff's hand hidden in his pocket then at the door and back to Raff. "I don't want you to jab me with your damned needle." Raff smiled and shrugged. "Then don't try and run or fight me. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you stand, Jeynie. But if you try either one, you give me no choice but to knock you out. I texted Polliver before I came here, he was on his way. He is right outside that door and if you run, he will block you and restrain you while I drug you. Is that how you want this to go?" Raff's eyes were looking angry again and Jeyne started to cry a little. "I hate it when you get mad at me. Hate it when you look or act like I am a wild animal."

"Then stop acting and looking like a wild animal and I won't need to. Do I need to ready the syringe or are you going to behave for me and listen to what I have to say?" Sniffing, Jeyne perched on her dresser and wrapped her arms around her knees, watching Raff nervously. "I will try to behave and listen." Raff pulled his hand out of his pocket and leaned against the wall near the door. He tilted his head and called out softly, "You can come in, Polliver. Jeyne is sitting on the dresser and will stay there while the three of us chat." He moved back and kept eye contact with Jeyne while Polliver slowly opened the door and entered.

Polliver shut the door quietly behind him, careful to not make sudden movements. He leaned against the door, his baton attached to his belt but close to his hand. Giving a calm but amused grin to Jeyne, Polliver spoke.

"Little duckling wandered out of line and decided to fuck with the geese, huh? Well, not very smart, Feral, but I give you points for creativity, stalking ability and a shitload of courage. But you were very naughty and those geese are going to be very angry at you, dearie. We need to keep you protected from the geese and it's sort of your own fault so you really can't bitch about it. I will explain to you what restricted movement is going to mean for you and you aren't going to like it, Feral. Not in the fucking least but if you try and run, we can use the baton and the needle to get the cooperation we need from you." 

 

Hot Pie was pacing the living room when Raff and Polliver both came back down. Jeyne was limp in Raff's arms, sedated and wearing chains on her wrists and ankles. "Why is she chained like that? Is she alright? What will they do to her?" Raff gave Hot Pie a disgusted look. "Oh, now you suddenly fucking worry and care?" Hot Pie stared at Raff and yelled, "Of course I care! She is my friend! I told her not to do it, I warned her and I didn't know she would do what she did! I tried to talk her out of it and so did Myranda!"

Polliver whacked the boy in the stomach hard with the baton and Hot Pie bent over in agony.

"Both of you warned her? You should have told me! One of you should have told Raff, you know he is her mentor! And I am your mentor, you should have told me! Do you have any idea how much danger she could be in? Unella and Gregor have killed before, think it will bother them to snap her neck or play operation without anesthetic? Now we have to find a way to keep her out of their way, keep them from their worst impulses. Think that will be easy? So guess what? Until this blows over or they reach her, we keep her a prisoner. She is in chains and she stays in them until we say otherwise. After your report visit with Kevan, I expect to see you, we are going to talk about this."

Hot Pie watched as Polliver held the door and Raff left with Jeyne in his arms. Polliver walked quickly with Raff and then they were gone.

Hot Pie sat heavily on the couch and put his head in his hands. What if they can't keep her safe? What if Jeyne finds a way to get away from them only to be caught by Unella and Gregor? Never mind that Polliver was royally pissed at him for keeping Jeyne's secret. What if Polliver takes his name away again? Too many what if's and Hot Pie almost was happy to hear the others all come in. They all went to their rooms to get ready for their reports and Hot Pie reluctantly went to do the same.

Chapter Text

Sansa went to head out with the other students, towards the front lawn and Kevan's judgment when Arya caught up to her.

"Hey! Remember me? I have some news you actually might want to hear. You were too busy last night so you missed the phone call from Uncle Petyr. Don't worry, I talked to him for you. I'm not the suck up you are so he doesn't like me as much. But he talked to me anyways but he was bummed that you were too busy for him."

Spinning around fast, Sansa walked Arya into the wall before the girl could register it happening. Sansa glared at Arya and her hand was clutching her sister's shoulder too hard.

"Ow! Knock it off, bitch! I swear to the gods, I'll give you a bruise on that pretty face, sister or not! I hate it when you get all fucking creepy on me! Save it for someone who isn't on our side, okay? Not your damned enemy, Sansa!" Arya looked a bit scared and ill as her sister continued to squeeze her shoulder and just stare at her. "Please, stop it, I fucking hate it! It's just like mother, stop it or I'm not telling you a fucking thing that our uncle said! I mean it!"

Sansa spoke in the tone honey badger mothers would use upon their young if they could speak.

"I am not our mother, Arya. I am your older sister and right now I am very upset with you. All I ask from you is to leave me be, do what I say when I give you good advice and remain loyal to me as your sister. Easy things to ask, I think. I told you if anyone from our family called, to tell me right away. I said that if Aunt Lysa or Uncle Petyr call, to tell me. You were irritated that I haven't made you the spotlight of our new world so you lashed out. You acted like a spiteful brat and didn't even attempt to let me know that our uncle had called. Even though you were fully aware that I was hoping to speak with him. What did he say? Or must I ask him myself when he gets here tomorrow with our parents?"

Arya looked mutinous for a moment but Sansa's face changed her mind. "Aunt Lysa is dead. She broke her neck while they were hiking. Our crazy aunt probably thought she could fly and took a running leap off a cliff. Uncle Petyr won't be coming since he has to mourn and prepare services. So it will be Dad, Mom, Robb and Bran since they will head to the services after they visit us here."

Sansa let go of Arya's shoulders and turned away, her face closed after it showed a minor shock and she snapped out, "If you ever do something like that to me again, I might just take you for a hike, little sister. Consider that. Why don't you wait here for your new little friend? I'm sure he has some idiotic prank he needs to share with you." Arya watched with narrowed eyes as Sansa strode away towards the lawn.

Joff bounded up next to her and saw Sansa storming away. "Oh no, another dissing battle with Oscar?" Arya shook her head. "I don't know what that was. Don't think I really want to know what she is up to. It's never good to be involved in Sansa's fucking plans, that's how I ended up here. Let's get going before we are late. All of the staff seems really tense today and I don't want to get anymore detentions, bruises or holes to dig."

 

Unella was brutal in her measurement of the students in line. She nearly strangled their throats as she buttoned top buttons and straightened collars. The combing out and restyling of Arya and Theon's hair was so ruthless that even Polliver winced. Unella found no fault with Sansa or Loras but she grimly searched for a fault, hoping to find one. The lack of imperfection made Unella glare at them as she nodded at them and walked away without a word. Gregor looked over all the students and turned to look at Polliver.

"Where is Jeyne? She should be here, in line." With a look of shining innocence, Polliver drawled out, "She wasn't available today. Already informed Kevan that Jeyne wasn't attending the reports. He is fine with it, but go ahead and check with him to be sure, if you'd like."

Gregor seemed to grow two sizes as he walked into Polliver, who calmly held his ground.

"Don't you dare play games with me, asswipe. No one gets out of reports unless they are in a coma or dead. Is she in a coma or dead? I doubt it. Are you helping your little cook hide her best friend? Are you helping your best friend Raff hide his little project? Did you forget the only reason you are a counselor here is because of my mentoring and my recommendations? Hmm? This is how you thank me for that?"

Clearing her throat slightly, trying to remember that the students were watching all of them with eager eyes, Unella walked up to Raff.

"Where did you put her? I will just have Gregor track her if you don't tell me. Pointless to hide her anyway, your project is as dead as mine is now. Kevan knows about my plans and he told me about yours. Backstabber. But it doesn't matter, Kevan said he will never let us use her name, likeness or where we've ever met her. Rendering your film dead and both our books into pure fiction with no sources."

Raff gave a bittersweet smirk and spoke softly. "I am aware of that. Jeyne is my patient still. I am still her mentor."

Polliver smiled at Gregor and he gave no shits about discretion at all. His voice was steady, amused and loud. "Gregor, I appreciate everything you've done for me. I am glad I listened to you so I could become a counselor here, truly. But I am your equal now according to Kevan's own staff rules. One of my main jobs as a counselor is to take care of my ducklings, to protect them. Feral may be a fucked up little thing, but she is still one of my ducklings. And I won't let you rip apart my poultry."

Unella glared at the two insolent men then snapped at Gregor. "No matter. After the reports are finished, we will track her on our own."

Raff grinned. "Good luck in your hunting. Oh, look, time for the ducklings to file inside to await their Kevan time. Come on, Polliver, we don't want to keep Kevan waiting."

 

Arya and Joff sat together silent and still before Kevan's desk. They both watched as the brilliant gold pen shone as it moved between Kevan's fingers and the smooth paper it wrote upon. Joff had stifled a yawn twice, he was used to this tactic, his own grandfather and mother have used it for years on him. For a bit, Joff concentrated on the amusement of watching Arya try not to squirm with anticipation and boredom.

Finally, Kevan looked up and graced them both with a warm smile. His rich voice was melodic and his eyes were inviting.

"My dearest great-nephew, Joffrey Lannister! And of course, the young Miss Arya Stark, a family I have known of and admired. I have actually met you and your sister before, a few times. I believe the last time I saw your family as a group, was it the funeral services for your half brother and youngest brother? No matter. The past doesn't concern us in here. The world doesn't concern us in here. The names Lannister and Stark don't concern us in here. In our small world, Joff is equal to Myranda, Arya is equal to Hot Pie. Riches mean nothing, status and popularity mean nothing."

Kevan's smile seemed to begin to slowly frost over as did his voice as he leaned forward, tapping his pen upon two stacked folders.

"Would you like to know why I am seeing you together? Because of this extreme equality. The two of you seem to be equal in everything. Test scores are exact, the reports are exactly the same from teachers and counselors alike. Equally, you have turned in ten percent of your homework, both have the same amount of detentions, punishments and lectures. Both of you have skipped the same classes, the same amount of classes. The only glowing reports I have on both of you is that you are equally healthy and do not cause fights with each other. Does this sound like a glowing progress report for your parents?"

Joff looked at his uncle with a small smirk on his face, Arya said nothing but barely hid a sneer herself. Kevan relaxed waited politely for one of them to say something. He seemed to be thrilled that it was Joff who spoke first.

"Uncle Kevan, once my mother sees this place and hears from me what it's really like here, I won't be here to bother you anymore. I am pretty sure the Starks will feel the same way when they speak to Arya. We both intend to get out of here by exposing things if we have to." Arya simply nodded in agreement and the two rebels stared at Kevan with mutiny. Kevan smiled as if the children were candy and he had one hell of a sweet tooth.

 

With a graceful movement, Kevan stood up and twirled his pen as he strolled around the desk. He sat on the edge of it in front of the two children.

"I think it's time that you both understood the truth of things. If your families put you here, if they went to Tywin for help, it was for one reason. To save you all from prison, to save them embarrassment and to hide shameful children away. Can both you of you truly be naive enough to think your families are not aware of how my school runs itself? At least to a very basic extent, enough for them to not care as long as you look good when they see you to appease any small lingering guilt?"

A small chuckle and Kevan shifted as he looked with kindness upon Joff.

"My dear boy, have you ever known your mother to defy your grandfather for any reason? If Tywin has decided this is where you shall be, no amount of pressure from your mother will change that. And I can tell you that my niece can offer me anything she wishes to and it won't change your status here one little bit. And if you think your mother doesn't want you here, where she knows you are at least protected, you are quite wrong. Cersei understands there is no other place better to hide you and still be able to see you."

Kevan shifted his gaze upon Arya with the same cloying sweetness.

"Same thing with your family, young lady. Ned and Cat have donated money to my school in the past, they have worked close enough with my family to be aware of how things are. They are aware of the type of place you are in and they agree it is a better option than prison. The Stark name is an old prestigious one if not as rich as our family, it is just as ancient and respected. I am sorry to inform you, Arya, that you and your sister have rendered yourselves unworthy of the name. You have become scandals and your family is just as infamous as mine for hiding shameful things and shameful family members."

Sharing a smile to both of them, Kevan spread his arms out.

"This is your new home for a very long time! Maybe forever, if we can't straighten you out enough to find good uses for you. So I want you to consider this. There is nothing bad enough happening at this school for either of you to allow your families to pull you out. Feel free to spout anything you'd like to them, I look forward to hearing what you'll say. Get it all out. But you will still be here the day after they leave. Perhaps you'll wish to apply yourselves, to find mentors and make something of yourselves. Find a talent and learn to use it. Or you won't and when you turn eighteen, if you are still useless, what then? Shall I continue to support you here as bad examples for other students? How will your families react when I tell them that you have not reformed, not changed at all, that I have no use for you at our school anymore? When I tell them that you both cannot be trusted to return to society in any way? What happens to you both then? Will you share the same grave or the same institution somewhere?"

 

Kevan stared levelly at Hot Pie.

"Boy, I have received such glowing reports about you. Truly impressive, you have decided these past few weeks to really throw yourself into your studies and work the program. I am proud of you in almost every way, young man. Even your weight is spot on, perfection! Polite and respectful to staff, average but diligent work in your academics. Raff says you are cooperative in therapy, Unella is happy with your mental and physical  state and Gregor says you have reached all your milestones in his gym classes and activities. The schedule you have has been revised to accommodate your new skills and Polliver has been excellent as your mentor. All wonderful things, Hot Pie." 

The boy shifted, flushed but looking pleased and hopeful. Kevan tenderly smiled and continued.

"Normally, I would see this report and leap at the chance to offer you a chance to train as staff. I would set up your diploma and tell the professors to test you out of classes. I would tell Pollliver that he will begin to train and mentor you as a staff recruit as opposed to a student. By summer you would be picking out basic furniture for your cabin. It is honestly what I want for you, what I wish to do for you, boy. Alas, it is not going to be happening, at least not during this report period. Do you know why? Because of loyalty, Hot Pie. None of your work or talents will matter until I know that I have your loyalty."

Watching Hot Pie's face fall, Kevan gave a mock long sympathetic face.

"I know, it's a hard decision for me too. But I have to be certain of my staff, boy. I understand how close you are to Jeyne and Myranda. As it should be, the three of you are different than other students and it's perfectly normal that the three of you stick together. The relationship is a normal one and one I heartily approve of. Poor little Jeyne will never have friends except for you and Myranda most likely. So I want the trio to stay together, you are a very good example for the two girls, in fact. What I am concerned with was your actions concerning Jeyne's little revenge ploy. I am aware that Jeyne told you of her plans, that she intended to bring to me exposure of Unella and Gregor. Surely, you had to be aware how bad that could have gone for her. How badly it might still go once Gregor and Unella reach her? Yet, you said nothing to any staff member. Not even to your own mentor or to Jeyne's. Heck, you could have even told me personally! I am not that scary to approach, am I?"

Hot Pie looked down at his hands and muttered, "I just wanted to protect her from any trouble. Myranda and I never thought she would really do it. I mean, Jeyne isn't a spy or a person that gets revenge like that. Normally, she just attacks or hides from whoever she is mad at. We really believed she was just all talk, we figured she was listening to the other kids and mimicking what they would say or do. She does that sometimes. I am sorry I made such a terrible mistake. I don't want anything bad to happen to Jeyne. If I truly believed she was going to do it, I would have said something. Now I see that I should have said something anyway, just on the in case. For now on, I will report things to staff. Please, Sir, I want nothing more than to become a loyal staff member. I hope that if I can do better, you'll consider me for staff again at the next report."

Kevan stood up and walked around to Hot Pie and patted his shoulder firmly. "That was the exact type of answer I wanted to hear from a potential staff member. Now, here is what we shall do. I will allow you to begin your staff training with Polliver, I will ask the teachers to set up testing you out of classes. The therapy will be reduced to once every two weeks with Raff. Unella will see you once a month still. And free time from those therapies and classes will offer time to train with your mentor. I offer you no cabin, no definite offer of employment or cooking school until I see how your next report is." 

Hot Pie leaped at the slightly smaller carrot with his hands, eagerly. "Thank you, very much! Thank you for allowing me another chance to prove myself and for the chance to test out and train! I promise I will show you I can do even better, that you have my loyalty!"

 

Loras and Sansa were both showered with praise for their diligent efforts to do well at the school.

"Excellent grades, both of you picked wonderful mentors and have volunteered to create our calender. Both of you have taken advantage of all that has been offered, therapy, extra projects and activities. Chores always done, always on time, never causing issues of any sort. Almost too perfect to be believed, both of you. Funny, I called Joff and Arya in here at the same time because they were equal in all the wrong things. Now I call both of you two in here at the same time because you are both equal at all the right things. I have heard both of you are interested in teaching, how interesting. And according to Tyrion and Stannis, not only would you both be good at it, but perhaps even more. That they have only scratched the surface of what might be lurking talents inside of you shining twin stars. So, I will lower the amount of workshops, gym classes, physical activities and therapies for you both. I shall tell the staff to keep an eye on our most clever and brilliant children, to help you continue to see deeper into yourselves. I cannot wait to see what our next report brings, however it pleases me to tell you that your families will be thrilled to hear our reports on you both."

Kevan smiled and the two perfectly groomed and well dressed children reflected his warm cheer back at him. He moved to sit on his desk before them.

"I hear from both Raff and Unella that you both have found regret in your past actions, that you feel shame for causing such tragedy by your own reckless actions. That you have accepted responsibility for what you have done. That is excellent progress! The doctor says you both have no need for medications which is even better! Now, I would like to ask you each one thing before you go. A rather troubling subject has come up about trouble or possible trouble with roommates."

Looking directly at Loras, Kevan asked without anything but gentle query, "Ramsay and Theon are not injuring or bothering you in any way? They are not up to anything you wish to me speak with me about? It can be in private if need be and they will never know that you told me, young man."

Loras grimaced but shook his head. "I will admit they turn my stomach with their relationship but no, they leave me out of it. I rarely see them, in fact." 

Kevan nodded and patted the boy's arm before reaching out to take one of Sansa's soft hand. He looked into her eyes that were sweet, intelligent and dark deep down where he could just seek it out. And yet, it wasn't the type of darkness that came from something horrendous like Ramsay. No, these were certainly the eyes of a certain Stark woman. Smiling, Kevan wondered if it would bother Sansa to know that she looked so much like her mother.

"My dear, I heard how this dislocated shoulder happened. I would like to hear about how you are getting along with Damon. We are concerned, dear. No one here wants anyone to get hurt. We take sexual and physical assault very serious and we would help you, Sansa. I agree that Damon is a nice boy but we can all agree that when Ramsay has his ear, Damon can become dangerous. Have you experienced this, Sansa?"

Squeezing Kevan's hand, Sansa sweetly looked up at him and gave a small smile on her soft lips. "No, he is fine. Just a big kid who doesn't know his own strength and is not very smart. I am sure it was an accident and I have been advising Damon to avoid Ramsay. Whenever I see them talking, I try to help draw Damon away. But I feel safe in my room. I am assured by Damon that he will not listen to Ramsay anymore, that he won't box in our room anymore. I am assured by the staff that we are all protected and cared for, I have no worries for my safety in your school, Sir."

Kevan watched the two leave his office with piercing eyes. There is something afoot with those two and he can nearly taste it. He will indeed ask the staff to keep a closer eye upon the two perfect students.

 

"Damon, I do not want to speak to the top of your golden head. I do hope you aren't mimicking Jeyne, with pulling long hair over your face to avoid life? Good, there you are, a handsome if hulking young man. I must say, you have certainly come a long way in such a short time. Now, true, your intelligence is very dim, you learn at a very slow pace but you do learn! And you listen, obeying rules for the most part. A few tardy assignments, a few late appointments and some minor wisecracks and pranks earning you a few detentions with Gregor. Interesting thing, your only detentions and mess ups are with Gregor, Raff or Unella's time with you. Maybe because that is around the time you see Ramsay? The teachers never have issues, they say you actually try very hard to please them and reach your goals. During classes, the only person that shares even partial class time with you is Jeyne. She is also a remedial learner though she is learning two grades above you at a sixth primary reader level. Jeyne doesn't work as hard or as earnestly as you do, she gets in more trouble during class than you do. Interesting."

The boy seemed to be too intimidated to say anything at all and just wrung his large paws together. With a sigh, Kevan put down his pen and folded his hands on the desk blotter. "Damon, how is your relationship with your roommate, Sansa? I have noticed she is wearing a sling. I heard a rather interesting tale as to how she received that dislocated shoulder."

Kevan had to lean forward to hear the muttered response. "Please, try to speak up a bit, Damon. I am old and hard of hearing."

"It was my fault. Sansa's shoulder is because of me. I shouldn't have done boxing in the room, without gloves. Shouldn't have stood that close to her while doing it. My fault and I am sorry. I really like her, she is nice, she is pretty and sweet and kind. I am not any of those things but Sansa tells me I am a good person if I just stayed away from Ramsay."

Nodding, Kevan tried to understand the contradictions of who this boy was and what danger if any, he posed. The staff seemed reluctant to state in the reports that there might be a problem. Damon only seemed to do badly when around Ramsay. Kevan decided to try bluntness with the boy but he spoke very clearly and slowly.

"Damon, I want to know if Ramsay tells you to hurt Sansa. Or if he tells you to hurt anyone else here." The boy seemed to hesitate then nodded reluctantly. "I don't listen anymore though. I don't want to hurt her or anyone else. I...I'm not interested in that stuff anymore. I mean, I like to pull jokes and clown around with Ramsay but not that other stuff anymore. I don't want to play the serial killer games or any of that...I  just want to do better."

Kevan tilted his head and stared intently at Damon, his voice silky smooth. "I am very glad to hear that, Damon. I am sure we can help you do better. Son, can you explain the serial killer game, please? And the other games too?" Damon looked uncomfortable and he wouldn't meet Kevan's eyes but he did speak. Silently, Kevan listened to Damon's halting and nervous explanation of the games Ramsay taught him. Including the ones that involved victims. Kevan wrote down what Damon said along a few notes for the staff. When Damon had nothing left to say, Kevan looked up and gave a very reassuring smile.

"Thank you, young man. That was very helpful in letting me decide what direction to take with you. I accept that what happened to Sansa was an accident since you both agree that it was. I also believe the staff is right to assume that Ramsay is your worst and most dangerous influence. I truly don't believe you would have ever done any of those awful things if Ramsay hadn't manipulated you into it. Listen to me, Damon. I want to help you, the staff wants to help you and I hope you let us. But you must listen to our counsel. I am going to ask that you no longer remain friends with Ramsay or Theon. Damon, you are a good boy deep down, you are showing us such great effort, I want to be even more proud of you next report. So I will suggest you look for a mentor among the staff. Stay away from the wrong students, like Ramsay and anyone who is his friend. Do you think you can do that?"

 

Theon fidgeted under Kevan's gaze.

"Now then, young Theon, let us talk of the reports I have been given on you. It's a good thing your father probably won't bother to visit you. We wouldn't want you to offer him yet more disappointment. Anyone with ears has spent their life hearing Balon bitch about his failures, you being one of them. Whether that assessment would be fair is in doubt, he has been saying it since you were a toddler after all. But you are a disappointment to the staff and to me. We cannot take comfort even in average level grade work since you have been caught at cheating with Ramsay on nearly every test. Homework is rarely turned in on time if at all and it's sloppy work at that. Both you and Ramsay have trouble concentrating in class, you both would rather torment your teachers or each other instead of following tasks. Gregor and Raff say you are known for skipping out on your therapies and non academic classes, that you have to be chased down on occasion. Also, there has been incidents of you being found with Tyrion's missing silver flask, others have had items go missing and think it might be you and Ramsay. I notice a pattern, do you? Damon had that same pattern in the outer world as Ramsay's best friend, his most loyal follower. Look where that has led that poor dumb ox. Are you Ramsay's next poor dumb ox, Theon? Is that what you hope for? To be a submissive partner to a serial killer, to help him commit atrocities?"

Waving away the stammering protests, Kevan frowned at Theon.

"I don't want to hear it. Truly. It will only make me feel even sadder for that poor Damon and for you. Let me lay things out very simply for you, boy. The world has lost interest in you, it doesn't want you. If you ever return to it as you are, it will kill you, eat you up and never think of you again. This is your world and your home now. That must sink into your dense skull. Distance yourself from Ramsay, try to work with the staff and you might stand a chance at some form of a life. There would be a chance to get a mentor, discover something useful about yourself. Let us guide you and mold you into a person that can be useful and not whatever monstrous thing that Ramsay wants from you."

 

Kevan smoothly wrote in his old fashioned but lovely handwriting while Ramsay sat, waiting, his fingers playing idly on the wooden armrests. The boy never cracked, he sat and watched Kevan's movements like a dangerous predator.  When Kevan finished adding his last notes on Theon, he twirled his pen, looking up at Ramsay.

"Ramsay, the second born son of Roose Bolton. An old name with an even older savage history. How hard the Bolton's worked to rise, to change their outer image while sharpening their inner true works. Domeric, your older step brother, he wasn't much like you or your father, was he? No, a reed thin tall young man that wanted to go into politics and law. Born to Roose while he was young and still in love with his late wife, Bethany. Did you know him very well, your brother? Probably not, he was ten years older than you. I believe you still resided with your mother in that crack dealers house until, what, two years ago? With a rare twice a year visit to your father's home from age three until you moved in with him permanently? Sad."

Kevan offered a sympathetic face that didn't match the stone eyes.

"No matter, your father had no time for you and your mother, whom was a paid whore. That was always a fault of your father's I will grant you that. He had a rather gruesome obsession with buying, abusing and impregnating crack whores. No matter, the only pregnancy that mattered to your father, was his proper wife's. And Roose was all about his high hopes for the first born shining son then. But alas, as young children always rebel, Domeric's ethics and morals were not the same as your father's. They fought, your brother runs off, officially goes missing and daddy suddenly had time for you. Was that a bad thing, perhaps? Because even though all the reports transferred to me from your history shows disturbing things, your behavior didn't get deadly until you were alone with just daddy. Was he your very bad influence, Ramsay? As you were Damon's very bad influence? And now you are Theon's very bad influence." 

Ramsay gave a razor thin smirk and leaned forward slightly. His eyes were hard, glittering with rage and his voice was soft but deadly.

"My brother was a fucking weakling, his mother was a weak, spiteful woman who couldn't accept her son leaving, who couldn't accept me coming in. That dried up old biddy would take Domeric and leave if she could when I came for my visits. I was only allowed in certain parts of the home, I couldn't go anywhere near another human besides my father and his damned henchmen. That cunt hated me on sight and I remember her hissing to my father that I was another animal that she didn't want to see. Bitch probably wanted to have me sleep in the kennels with the damned dogs!  The only reason I ended up with my father was because my mother overdosed and dropped dead. If you think my father or the name Bolton has ever done me any favors in life, you are sorely mistaken. Yes, daddy dearest taught me what he could, or what he felt I should know. He was never going to really love me, accept me or allow me to be heir to his fortune or his business dealings. I tried to love and honor my father, even tried to get along with his wife and received nothing for my efforts. I tried to be good friends with Damon because I had no one else and neither did he. I never forced Damon to do anything he didn't want to do. I don't force Theon to do anything he doesn't want to do. Theon has become my friend luckily, since Damon ditched me. I don't have any influence, Sir, or else, I wouldn't be in your school, sitting here hearing you insult me."

Standing up, Kevan walked around the desk and perched on it, so close to Ramsay that their knees almost touched. The gold pen tapped on Kevan's knee as he gave Ramsay a very sad smile. Shaking his head, Kevan spoke, his voice heavy.

"Poor delusional boy, do you even understand why you'll never leave here? This was your last chance before the law murdered you or your father did it personally to save himself embarrassment. The Boltons, Lannisters, Starks, Tyrells, all have influence, all have reasons to have shiny reputations. I know you are a clever boy but do you see the bigger picture here at all? None of you are leaving here unless I ever allow it and your families agree to it. Then, it would be under a different name doing work I have assigned you. In your situation I doubt this will be your future. No, you are a savage little cunning killer and you like to find submissive, vulnerable partners then hunt humans like animals. Whores mostly, I assume that is from some deep seated hatred of your mother?"

Ramsay looked very serious and yet there was a sliver of a smile upon his face.

"Sir, I don't deny that I am a killer. I don't deny that I like to work with a partner but I deny that I force anyone to do anything with me. Yes, I am sure because of my mother, I enjoy killing whores most of all, though I do enjoy torturing and killing crack addicts too. Male and female, really. Of course, I can have a future away from here. I am a killer and can become a hit man. I am willing to go further than just shady dealings of murder and enforcement for glittering things like Starks, Lannisters and Tyrells. I know what got Gregor in here, you know. I admired and followed that man when I was a child, hearing tales as I tagged along behind my father. Hell, even when I was with my mother, we heard of Gregor and Sandor too. That one killed a boy while botching a robbery at a butcher's shop? Sandor should have been working with his brother. Then again, considering how Gregor fucked up...I really loved Gregor's tales. I wanted to be him. Now I find him pathetic, I wouldn't have been caught. I won't get caught."

Kevan sighed and spoke softly as if to a small very dumb child.

"Ramsay, you are in my school, because you did get caught. Not only for drinking and driving, not only for the deaths of so many at the car accident, but for the dead abused girl in your van. All the things in your van were taken as evidence, so was the dead hooker and it was only through great cost and intervention that your father was able to have it all destroyed. In fact, for years that poor man has tried to hide and destroy evidence that his children have left copious trails of. Do you have any idea how much your father might owe to me or Tywin because of you? How much he is beholden to the Starks and to so many other debtors? All due to his children. Now this might be a testament to how bad his parenting is, true. But consider this. As it stands, you are the only Bolton child that isn't missing, that hasn't been truly tossed away by your father yet. Ruin this last chance for yourself and I do believe your father will decide you are to go missing too. As it stands, when Roose sees your report tomorrow, he may already be coming to that unfortunate conclusion. Now, I will charitably remind your father that it has only been one month. That we like to give up to a full year before making any harsher decisions. That gives you eleven months to decide if you want to be the last failure of Roose Bolton."

"Sir, I appreciate your time, thank you for your counsel. I will surely take it into consideration. Consider what I said too, I will be a great hit man someday. Or an assassin. My talents are already showing, I am great at killing, stalking and more. I am proficient in torturing and imagine the information I could get if needed for someone rich? So if you want to really help me, help me gain a way out to continue my career goals."

Ramsay never saw it coming, one minute he was in the chair and Kevan was sitting on the desk. Suddenly Ramsay was on the desk half laying over it and the pen was at his left eye. But it wasn't the inky point of steel that Ramsay saw too large in his eye, it was a slender razor tip.

"This is laced with poison and it's a rather gruesome but fast acting one. So I would stay very still if I were you. Did you even have time to blink, never mind resist? No. I am an old man, Ramsay, I have not trained with assassins, with serial killers, with Boltons or hit men. Though all of the above are in my employ. Let me help you understand this, boy. Everyone here, is a dangerous person in their own ways. Otherwise, they wouldn't be here. Telling me you can torture or kill doesn't fill me with hope. I have plenty of killers and those who like to torture around here. It isn't a unique talent and not even one you are clearly very proficient at."

Kevan stepped back and threw Ramsay backwards by his collar.

"Eleven months, Ramsay. You have only that long to decide to be a dead serial killer or a live boy that has a better talent for us to exploit. And I truly hope you don't take down Theon or Damon with you. I forced Damon to tell me of your little games, the staff has told me of other games. Stop your damned games, Ramsay. At least Loras is one boy who doesn't find your manipulation and sick play something worth his while. I really hope at the end of the year, Loras isn't the only one left in that room. Now get out and think on what to do with your time left."   

Chapter Text

Myranda should be impressed but she wasn't. Limousines with champagne, fancy imported chocolate and water from private springs don't even warrant a blink. She has ridden in too many of them. They never landed her anywhere all that great, so the only good thing are the enmities which are fleeting in the end. Due to the stress of what lay at the end of her trips, if liquor is offered, she is allowed to drink a moderate amount of it.

Private jets are no different really. The longer the trip, the fancier the transportation, the more repulsive the client usually. This jet was full of roses, expensive alcohol and even a discreet offering of different types of drugs. Myranda had already been slightly suspicious when she saw both Bob and Harold coming with her. Usually it was one or the other, only on certain trips have they both come with her.

If they both escort her, it's because she is servicing more than just one client, up to four at a time would make both men stay for her protection. One time they both went with Myranda because the client was known to be very aggressive. Myranda found that funny because the asshole still managed to give her enough of his BDSM interests to put her on bed rest for three days.

Of course, Bob and Harold blamed her for it, not the client. They had said if she hadn't kept laughing, he probably wouldn't have been so rough on her. As if it was possible to stare at Pycelle wearing nothing but a leather harness and a teensy, eeny pair of leopard skin panties and jackboots and not die laughing. Her favorite was Walder Frey, that crusty bastard. He loved to bring his sons and insult them while they tried to fuck her. She always acted her rudest around Walder, unlike Pycelle, he loved it. Gave him more reason to insult and degrade her while indulging himself. Like Pycelle, Walder enjoyed a bit of roleplay, he liked to pretend she was a saucy serving wench and he a lord.

"If the stewardess offers you the party drugs again, you should take her up on it. No point suffering elderly men sober, Kevan understands the need for such things. We do not condone drugs normally, of course, but on rare occasion, like now, we shall allow the small indulgence."

Myranda stared at Bob with a raised eyebrow. She tried to hide her shock and her nervousness. "Why should I need drugs, how bad will this be? Come on, both of you are with me and they offer drugs? Along with all this other fancy shit and the traveling so much?" She gave a jagged laugh. "Have I angered Kevan somehow? Is this my last trip or something? Do I get to come back afterwards?"

Harold and Bob gave her identical smirks and Harold spoke with a spark of amusement.

"No, dear. I promise this isn't your demise and Kevan isn't upset with you as far as I know. This is a very private man, with lots of money who wishes to lavish it. We are both with you because there will be multiple others there. More young women just like yourself actually. This person enjoys the company of many girls at once. He wishes to play with you along with these other girls. He isn't known for extreme violence or even as much as some of your clients might enjoy. Possibly some minor kinky paddles or straps at best. Mainly, just lots of other females, he enjoys sampling many different females at once."

Myranda relaxed slightly but did take the offer of drugs to steady herself. She has had a few clients that had other girls her own age or older join in. It isn't particularly exciting to her but it does mean she'll get breaks. At least she can share the load, so to speak. The drugs kicked in and she floated away with the jet.

 

Jeyne woke up with a bandaged sore arm, chained by wrists and ankles in a dark place she did not know. Thrashing, screaming did no good but it was the first thing she did. The panic wore off and left her tired and numb. Curling up on a thick blanket on top of the mattress she couldn't seem to leave, Jeyne tried to calm herself. This was a room, it wasn't cold like a too big house, a cellar or a dog kennel. It was a mattress under her, not rug on polished wood, cement, cheap tile, straw or dirt. She remembered Raff and Polliver told her she had to be restrained and hidden. Jeyne recalls that she attacked them when they came for her and Raff got her with his damned needle.

Relaxing slightly, Jeyne knew she was at the school still somewhere. That Raff will be back, that she is not abandoned here to be forgotten or killed. She logically knew this but her mind kept trying to play tricks on her. Jeyne tried very hard to ignore it since the goal was not too look crazy or desperate when Raff returned. Her chances of getting loose from the restraints might depend on it. So when Jeyne heard a razor voice slice through the air, she whimpered and whispered to herself, not real.

"Look at you, a filthy little beast. How dare you slink this close to where I can see you? Get back with his other filthy dogs, Jeyne! Shoo or I'll strap you!"

Another voice came, this one soothing, but still cold and the disgust was barely covered under the soft tone.

"Poor girl, I was gone longer than I meant to be. She kept you out here in the kennels the whole time again, didn't she? Let's get you a proper scrub down so you can come inside. I promise the whole time I am home, you may stay inside but you must remain silent and hidden when possible around my wife. At least this time it was in the heated dog kennels and not the cellar."

When Raff entered the little room and flicked on the light, Jeyne was already in a ball, sobbing. She didn't respond to the lights or sounds of someone entering the room. In her head she was sneaking with Domeric, he would seek her out in secret, to talk, to play and it was her one joy. But in the stark woods of her mind, this was the last day ever, this was the last time she would ever see him. The bitter eyes woman, she caught them and Jeyne had piss running down her legs, there was so much blood and she ran and ran ran ran ran ran but you can never really get away, can't rip through yourself and run run...

 

Another limousine and Myranda was able to see the glittery city, the tall silver buildings. She was still riding a high and was wide eyed, it was the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. When Harold sat on one side and Bob on the other, Myranda giggled. "Oh shit. Oh no, I was right. It's a bad really bad one. If I am bad or you think I might be bad, that is the only time you flank me in a car like this. What did I do or what do I have to do? For real now, please."

Harold and Bob had identical features and smiles, the glasses showed Myranda herself as a thin desperate, pretty whore. Their pastel suits seemed to glow too brightly along with the shattering city lights. Whining, Myranda cringed and both of them put an arm around her. Harold used a very soothing but amused tone.

"Sweetheart, we have never put you in a situation that would injure or kill you. And we try to guide you, protect you, always have, right? Kevan is not mad, I swear. This isn't your end, I promise. But this one might be...overwhelming at your first glance. First impressions are very hard to take in sometimes. Remember the incidents with Pycelle, how you giggled when you shouldn't have at all? We don't want this to happen with this man. He is someone...repulsive and sadly, Kevan's brother needs his assistance in something. Plus, do you remember Kevan's new servant, Gilly? She is this man's daughter. Mr. Craster sent her to us because she was very rebellious. So when Mr. Craster asked if you would play his daughter's replacement tonight, Kevan thought it would be rude to say  no. That isn't a big deal, to play a daughter for one night, is it?"

Myranda shuddered but shook her head. "It's gross, but yeah, I can do that. Walder sometimes would say things like I was his daughter or granddaughter. It was creepy but it's not a huge deal. As long as...it just makes me nervous that you both are here, there is drugs...I mean...I'm....you two are what's freaking me out! Fuck, I can't think right and I feel like I really need to. Both of you are ruining my rare high!" She frowned as they both chuckled and squeezed her as if she were adorable. Harold slowly moved her head onto his shoulder and Bob rubbed her neck to relax her. "Don't let us ruin the high, honey. The only reason I am here with you and Harold is because there are more females here than usual. Equality, remember? If I told you there were going to be ten men waiting for you, wouldn't you want both of us there? Well, there are ten young ladies in there along with Mr. Craster, so here I am."

Staring at Bob even though he tightened the fingers on her neck, Myranda nearly hollered, "Ten? I have to sleep with ten women and this old fuck? I better get SO much out of this, I mean it, Bob! This isn't fair, that's a lot of jaw work alone! And I will NEVER agree to ten men at once, do you know the damage that could do to me?" Another together chuckle was enjoyed by the two men and Myranda wished she wasn't fucked up and that she had the courage to tell them how much she despised them. Self preservation kept her from doing that at all times and now was no exception. Shutting up, Myranda went back to staring at the lights streaking by.

 

Raff had rushed Jeyne out of the basement of the largest actual house besides Kevan's, the one that soon will be occupied by Unella and Gregor. He ran like lightening to his own cabin that was luckily on two cabin's and one cluster of trees away. Wrapping Jeyne in a blanket, forcibly making her drink some hot tea and texting Polliver madly, Raff tried to sweet talk Jeyne out of her trauma.

Polliver had been busy in his own cabin, whacking Hot Pie with his baton just hard enough to make him twitch, while roaring. "This is how it works! If you do not do well, then I am not doing well. If Jeyne sinks, then Raff sinks too. Mentors gain favor or punishment just like our stupid damned idiots! Loyalty? Of all the fucking things to get bad points on! I have NEVER mentored someone that got bad points on loyalty, Hot Pie. NOT EVER!" He ignored the beeping as long as he could, then Polliver swore and turned away. "Don't you move an inch, boy! We are not done! How dare you try and defend such a stupid thing! Loyalty to Jeyne would have been to keep her safe from herself by telling-shut up a sec." The silent Hot Pie just watched in pure misery as Polliver checked his texts. He just knew when he left the cabin, he would leave as Piggy.   

"Aw fuck me...let's go, Hot Pie. Run with me right now and keep your mouth shut. Raff's having some issues with Jeyne, hurry! Know why I am letting you be a part of this fuckery? Because if you had opened your mouth, this wouldn't all be happening. So welcome to the consequences and roll up your fucking sleeves."

 

Damon watched Sansa pace and wanted so badly to help her, to know what was wrong. "Can I do anything for you, Sansa, anything at all? I..hey, I know what will cheer you up. Today I told Ramsay that I can't be his friend anymore!" But Sansa only gave him a nod and gentle approving smile. "Thank you, Damon. That is wonderful news and very smart of you. I am not sad or angry, no, not scared, just...I have to make some quicker choices than I thought I would. My plans with this weekend visit have to change a little. I can tell you secrets, can't I, Superstar? My special superhero, I can tell you anything, can't I?" Damon blushed and nodded with a sort of shy glance. His words were earnest and filled with a little boy type longing that briefly pulled at Sansa's heartstrings.

"I would never give away your secrets and I would do anything for you. Not like with Ramsay, I...I think you are my first real true friend. I mean, you might be a secret friend but you are the first real friend that just likes me for me. Even if I am dumb and have done awful things. I like...worship you, I think. Not in a...I would never...but in...you are my real friend, right?" Sansa melted and bent down to the lonely child trapped in a giant body. She patted his hands and assured him with a smile and a kiss to his forehead. "I am your only true blue real friend, Superhero. I know you would do anything for me, you would and I appreciate that. I want to do the same back. I really want to. And I hate the thought of bad things happening to you. Do you know what a necessary evil means, Damie?" Damon shook his head and Sansa smiled.

 

"It means sometimes you have to do things you don't want to because you have to. Regardless of the cost. My uncle is a very good example of that. He finds murder distasteful but when there is really no other choice, he does it. And he has apparently decided not to wait to dispose of his lunatic wife. I was counting on Uncle Petyr to help me this weekend. I could have convinced him or even my nutty aunt, I could have convinced them to let me out. Uncle Petyr is tender towards me and I know how to work my aunt. All I would have to do is let them see me and hear me and I would have been gone, whisked away and missing. But no, Uncle Petyr has decided to ruin my plans. My parents...are strict and will not fall for the same tricks. Well, my father might but not my mother. So I have to think of a necessary evil and commit it. It's the only other way I can do this now. I can't rely on my little sister, my brothers are useless and my parents...I don't want to go back home, back under their boot and get blank eyed like the boys. Or dead like the other ones."  

Damon didn't understand most of that but what he caught was disturbing. He knew enough about murder to say nothing and simply accepted it. "Wait, you wanted to use your uncle to leave here? I don't want you to leave, Sansa! Please, this place is helping you and you are the only one here that can help me!" Sansa gave Damon a sad look and placed a delicate hand on his desperate face. "Well, see, that is the thing, Damon. Without my uncle, leaving isn't an option anymore. But if I have to stay here, at least for a little bit longer, it has to be better than this. I need more, I want to do more and find my way out as soon as I can. Not right away, I'll be here a while longer, don't worry about that. Sweet boy, you look disturbed, what have I done to my superhero? Here, this will relax you a little, open your mouth. Superstar, it's just a little sweet taste to dissolve on your tongue. Don't worry, Unella gave it to me for my nerves. There, just let that kick in. Superstar, you really are my friend, I really do wish I could have you with me as a loyal friend. And I hope after I commit my necessary evil, you'll still believe that. I am cornered, Damie and I don't like that feeling. How do you feel by the way?"

 

Hot Pie had resolved to keep his mouth shut and not resume former behavior when things got stressful. This resolve lasted exactly five minutes after he saw a shaking Jeyne wrapped in a blanket on Raff's couch just staring into the distance. She was curled into a ball, whimpering and Hot Pie caught a glimpse of her bandaged arm. "Did she hurt herself?" Raff shook his head but Polliver looked closer at her arm and then grinned. "Nah, took the tracker out. She was asleep the whole time." Hot Pie glared at them. "When did you put trackers in us? Why would you cut it out like that? Now she has to go through it all over again once this is over!"

Polliver whacked Hot Pie in the head with his hand and muttered about respect. Raff rapidly kept walking in circles then consulting both a medical text and a medication log. "I forgot that she would be triggered by the fucking chains! Now she's back with her step-monster and daddy dearest in the land of kennels, chains and we are fucked." That was all Hot Pie could take and he spread his arms out while yelling. "Are you fucking shitting me? Are you the worst damned therapist in the world? How can you forget how she reacts around chains and other sounds she spent years beaten under? Do you remember auto shop? Wood shop? Metal shop? What Jeyne did in those classes, why you pulled her out of them? The nail gun girls? She either attacks or goes like this, always, how can you forget that when you are her therapist and mentor? And I'm the one who fucked up?" 

As Polliver whacked Hot Pie's ass for him eight times for disrespecting Raff, he glared up at Raff. Over Hot Pie's yelping, he said, "I agree with everything the boy just said. We fucked up with those fucking chains and you should have told me she had a reaction to chains. She was always fine with usual restraints, I could have gotten them." Raff shrugged and then admitted, "I was pissed off and wanted to teach her a lesson. So I used chains and the basement, thinking she'd be scared and grateful when I showed up."  Polliver stopped hitting the boy and shoved him over to walk up to Raff.

"Do you understand that you used revenge and fucked it up? Exactly like your patient just did. Wow. Why do I ever listen to you and help you? Is it that you are just so luscious looking I can't help myself?" Raff snarled and shoved Polliver away. "Oh fuck off. You are in this too now and so is Hot Pie. So fucking help instead of screaming at me or making fucking jokes! Or we all fucking go down together! Her fucking father is visiting for the first time tomorrow, remember? We were going to bring her to Kevan, who would explain why Roose would be here and she was only to serve. Only speak to Roose if he spoke to her, that he would be here to see another student, not her. She is used to that kind of treatment with him and how the fuck do we do that now? Look at her!"

Raff sat down next to Jeyne and took her pulse and tried to soothe her with his voice. It did nothing, Jeyne wasn't with him, not really. "Ironically, I may have no choice but to call Unella for help. So please, please, try really fucking hard, you damned gorillas, to help me snap her out of it! I'm a therapist but I'm only given the education that Kevan allows! I am no damned magician, Unella's way more knowledgeable if twisted. So help me before I have to call her. Because Unella will take care of Jeyne at least long enough for the visit, then who knows what. And Gregor will most certainly have all three of us. So put on your thinking caps, okay?"    

 

 

Chapter Text

Joff had claimed a small area near the woods as his own personal angry place. Tonight he was sharing it with Arya, Ramsay and Theon, all angry and in need of privacy. They needed to rage out, to drink the alcohol stolen by Theon, the drugs Ramsay bought from Sansa and the rage fueled heavy metal provided by Arya who borrowed Loras's hidden cell phone in return for a future favor.

They swore, jumped, got fucked up, threw rocks at trees and made pointless useless threats at those who cannot hear them. They all pretended not to keep an eye on the approaching curfew. All acted as if they didn't care if Gregor showed up to rip them apart. All of them pumped up and announced the Tickler was a bullshit story and tonight they will prove it. 

Joff sneered at all them, wavering about drunkenly. Arya was nearby examining the tree that was singing and wondering why they called it ecstasy, is that like fantasy?

"Listen, none of those assholes will bother with us tonight! Polliver is murdering Ex-Piggy in his cabin, Raff is hiding Feral somewhere, Unella and Gregor are going to spend all night chasing after them. And they have to deal with a wedding and a baby coming!" They all laughed and nodded, pretending to relax. All expect Arya, who was having a very important discussion with the tree. It had a voice just like Jon's and when the knots of the tree became wooden eyes, they looked like Rickon's. Ramsay ripped a bottle away from Theon and drank fast. "I can't fucking believe that fucking sack of shit, Damon! How dare he,after all I've done for that white trash helmet wearing fucktard! I wasted half my life on him, Theon! Fucking betrayed me! Theon, don't betray me, I won't be able to handle anymore fucking traitor shit!" Theon nudged Ramsay and gently assured him he would never leave him or be disloyal. Joff pretended to not worry about the time or the Tickler.

 

Near the edge of the glittery part of the city was an immense hotel with so many windows up high it made Myranda dizzy to look up. Harold took one arm and Bob had the other, they smoothly led her through a fancy lobby with a real water fountain in it that went up to a glass ceiling reflecting back the stars. The elevator was polished wood and gold gilding that Myranda was entranced by. Just as they went down a long narrow hall near the very top, the drugged feeling was finally coming down. Enough for Myranda to be able to clearly offer her best smile, practicing it as they walked.

"Good girl, all ready and this is the right time I guess for Harold and I to tell you the good news. Since this client is very important, we had to skip your report time with Kevan. This may be the big one, girl, the one tough assignment, any information you get, any pleasing you do, will please and impress Kevan. He is inches from having you married to one of the prospects. So if you need more drugs, want some wine or even whiskey, you just tell us. We are going to be here to guide you, to keep you safe and to help you reach your goal. Remember that, Myranda. Okay, here we go, sweetheart."

The man was fat, repulsive, rude and his eyes were dark and cruel. His lips were locked in a sneer and he had a terrible habit of letting his tongue dart out of his lips. That was not a huge deal, Myranda can deal with that easily enough. Ten females all naked, all wearing collars was kinky but not impossible and Myranda herself had been instructed to be naked wearing only a collar when she entered the room. And then that was end of what Myranda could process at first, watching the girls all kneeling before the large fat man on the huge circle bed.

She heard Craster talking to the girls and maybe to her but the words were sinking in hard as her eyes finally registered the cowering girls. These were not the usual sleek girls around Myranda's own age, though some girls were her age. Myranda's collar was fake, it was just black cheap plastic. Not these girls, they had leather collars and they were worn down depending on how old they seemed. The oldest was at least thirty and the youngest girl might have been three, she was in diapers. Myranda saw a young girl that might be nine and another that couldn't be more than six. All of them had similar hair, same eyes, all brown eyed with resignation and fear in those orbs. They all had a branding mark on them, they all wore bruises and they all looked just like Craster himself. The youngest in a collar and diaper was crying and whining in fear, the others trying to shush her.

"Now, lovely daughters of mine, for this one night, I give you a chance to have Gilly back! Our real Gilly was a very bad girl, wasn't she? So for this one night I wanted to give you a much better example of what Gilly should have been. Do you remember how angry I was about that bad daddy's girl, how I felt you all had needed daddy to be stricter! I was worried that bad girl was a bad example for my darlings. This night is a good one, don't start crying, one of you comfort and shut up that little one or I'll do it! Tonight this pretty whore will pretend to be Gilly for us. She will pleasure daddy the way Gilly should have and play with each of you and me! All the games that Gilly should have done with her daddy and precious sisters! We are filming it, so we can bring it home and watch it. Our friend who is filming this will edit it so it will be Gilly's head instead of the whore's. Won't that be nice? So whore, we shall call you Gilly tonight. She is much prettier than Gilly was, isn't she girls?"

Myranda just stared at the youngest girl then at Craster.

She fled without a word out of the bedroom into the outer living room. Myranda would have ran out the door, down the hall and into the city if Harold and Bob didn't block her.

 

Damon felt better and worse all at once. He certainly didn't feel happier or calmer, an urgent energy rose instead, he was sweating and hearing things wrong. Seeing and feeling wrong things too. He tried to tell Sansa, tried to grasp at her and explain but the girl just gently would hush him and smile. "It is alright, Damie, I am with you the whole trip. I am right here, lay down, I know you feel way too tense for such things but trust me." Damon obeyed and his large hands grasped the edges of the cheap cot bed, afraid of flinging himself off. Gasping, Damon watched as Sansa quickly managed to undo Damon's pants and pull off her underwear fast under her fancy skirt that she was still wearing.

"What are you doing? I can get on my own pajamas and you...you should change in the bathroom or I will shut my eyes! Rules, we made up those rules, Sansa!" Another hushing and a soft hand was on his cock, he tried to lurch up and Sansa pushed him down. "No...hush...let me do what I need to, superhero. I need you to save me by being my evil, superstar, there you go, see, you want this too, Damon. Deep down, Ramsay taught you to love somethings, right? Not all of it was bad, right? I mean, there is no shame in feeling good however you have to, however you can. So let me, superhero, let's feel good together."

When Sansa rode him it was the most amazing shattering thing that has ever happened. Damon wanted badly to not hurt Sansa, she was so much more delicate than he was. His hands were so large and when her voice encouraged him to rip her shirt off he did. Careful not to touch her skin without her permission, in spite of the fact that he was deep within her. She kept whispering though, Ramsay things, bad things that Damon really did enjoy even if it made him sick before and after. Damon flipped them over and drove into her fiercely. Sansa began to scratch at him, still hissing sweet poison into his ear and Damon lost himself to her commands. He bit her, licked her and left bruises where his fingers dug into her hips.

Suddenly, Sansa punched Damon in the eye, he sat up to hold his sore eye and the girl slid out from under him. Damon moved so she could leave the bed, his cock and his eye throbbing, then he stood up to follow her. "What did I do? I am so sorry, I hurt you! Oh, please, I am so sorry, Sansa!" The disheveled and marked girl with messy fire red hair, wearing half a bra and a skirt smiled at Damon. "No, you did exactly what I needed you to do, superhero. Hush now and come here to me, honey. Over here. I want us to fuck closer to the window, I want to do it right here."

Damon smiled and rubbed himself as he walked over to the open arms and trusting smile. 

 

Bob pressed against her back, Harold was pressed to her front and both were gently smiling at the sobbing, freaked out girl. "I can't, I won't! Some of them are babies, children! I won't do that, he shouldn't be able to do that! I won't, tell Kevan that I just won't. I said no and I won't do it. Oh my gods, they are all his real daughters and look what he did to them! I can't..." Harold grabbed Myranda's slender neck with one firm strong hand and the other smoothed her hair with gentle strokes. Bob wrapped his arms around Myranda from behind like a big bear hug of support.

Myranda stared into the mirrored glasses as Harold's voice came out strong and calm. "Okay, okay, calm down, sweetheart. Listen to me, we can make some adjustments. We can do that for you, Myranda. I will tell Craster that you will have no sexual activity at all with anyone under fifteen. They can watch or you can watch but no touching the younger ones. No problem, he won't be happy but he will comply. See, sweetie? No need for all this fuss, be a good girl and think of the prize Kevan is offering you. Just do your job, that's all."

Myranda shook her head in spite of the pressure on her throat. "No. Those young girls have to leave the room, I won't watch him do that to them. And they shouldn't see anything I do to him or the others. I am trying...but I can't do that. I have some fucking morals, just a few ethics and limits, Harold! I won't go in there with those little girls in there. I mean it. I won't do it. Tell him that!"

Bob's hug became steel and Myranda found it hard to breathe, her ribs aching. Harold wasn't soothing her hair anymore he had it nearly ripped out, pulling her head back to stare down at her in mirrored disapproval. His other hand on her throat began to slowly strangle her. Bob's voice was in her ear, his hot breath smelling of chiclets blew into her ear.

"Myranda, you don't make the arrangements, you just follow what you are told to do. It is really that simple. The deal was made. We have said we will alter some arrangements for you and we will. But you will do this and if Craster wants all his little daughters to watch then that's his problem. When he plays with the small ones, just avert your eyes. But honey, you never get to say no, silly thing. Not ever."

She thrashed as Harold let go of her hair to retrieve a shining needle like Raff's. Harold smiled as Bob restrained the panicking girl. "Calm yourself, sweetheart. It's going to make you feel so good and you aren't going to care what your body is doing. Shh, trust us, Myranda. This is for your own good, it will keep you in control and let your mind sail away. There we go, good girl, just let that sink into your system." Bob held the girl firmly as she thrashed then began to go limp. Her eyes glazed over and a small smile appeared. Myranda gave a little giggle and Harold beamed at her, kissing her forehead.

"And here we are! Good girl, are you ready to play? Bob and I will take you to your play session. Just do what you are told, fly away on the nice feeling and just obey orders, my pretty girl."

 

Damon nearly tripped over his own jeans to reach her and Sansa gave a gentle smirk. "Don't worry, clumsy, just take that last leap." Feeling silly and horny all at once, he leaped, causing a large thud to stand before Sansa. With her coaching, Damon lifted her to fuck her against the wall, her long legs were wrapped around him. It was amazing and he was nearly there, nearly there. Sounded as if Sansa was close to orgasm and then Sansa gave him a tiny strange look. It didn't match what they were doing, the savageness of their sex, it was a somber, sad look and then Damon was screaming.

Sansa had given him the look then whipped her head as hard as she could. Smashing that pretty face into the wooden thick window edging. Sansa pulled back her face and there was blood, she was screaming now, loud and high, pain gave the scream it's strength. Damon's drugged out mind could not understand. Sansa slammed her ruined face one more time against the windowsill. Damon's prick withered inside her and he let go of her, screaming.

Then their door burst open and the monster from the scary book was rushing at him. Damon screamed even louder than Sansa.

 

Ramsay and Theon were holding onto each other for balance, Joff had to drag Arya as she kept wanting to chat with fucking trees. In spite of the courage from illegal substances, the group didn't last beyond forty minutes after curfew. They didn't speak of this loss of nerves out loud, they just simply decided to take the party to the common room within their limits. As they staggered towards the dorm house they heard terrible screaming. Ramsay strained forth and asked, "Is that Damon screaming like that?" Arya suddenly became more focused when Sansa's scream tore through Damon's and through the night air. "Oh shit, Sansa!"

They all started to run forth, more as interested witnesses but Ramsay and Arya both had some concern deep down inside. Then the group skidded to a halt and shared a lovely tight group hug. A terrifying hulking man in a long black flowing trench coat was dragging a screaming Damon out of the house. The face turned to see the fucked up students and gave a too large smile full of jagged teeth and black eyes that offered only a void. Theon screeched until Ramsay clasped a hand over his mouth.

They watched in terror as the man began to drag the screaming boy away and though they all smelled it, none of them mentioned that Joff pissed himself.       

Chapter Text

Myranda became aware that she was staring up at a ceiling. It was off white and had gold speckles all over it with a large chandelier in the center. Shiny and pretentious and utterly useless as the lights were as dim as real candles would have been. Naked, sticky and sore, laying on a bed, sprawled like a broken doll, that registered next. Aching all over, Myranda slightly turned her head and saw the camera man diligently filming in the other direction, off the bed. Turning her head the other way, she saw Harold and Bob standing in the doorway. They weren't looking at her or whatever the camera man was watching, they were talking to each other softly, intently.

Sound began to filter though the cotton of her thick feeling head and Myranda heard Craster's angry voice. She heard crying, begging from all the girls, but the words got her moving. "Get that diaper off her and bring her to me now, I said! Sara, you bring her here right now or you'll be screaming like you did an hour ago!" Myranda recalled that Sara was nine, she vaguely remembered Craster screaming her name when he-None of them saw her even move, it was fast, so fast and Myranda wasn't even thinking. One minute her hand smashed a lamp, the next a thick shard of it was buried deep in Craster's throat. 

The cameraman swore, a few of the girls screamed but most laughed and Myranda just stood there, swaying, her hand dripping from deep cuts. As Harold and Bob rushed to grab her, Myranda smiled sweetly. "I may be your whore, gentlemen, but I am not a pedophile and I won't suffer one. Let Kevan bury me if he wants to, if this is what I have to do to survive. Somethings just aren't worth it." And since she went that far, and Myranda knew she was probably about to die, she cast the rest of her thoughts right along with it. "Sorry to ruin your next reward from Kevan. Even Pycelle didn't cause a total lack of rewards but this...I might be killed, but I really wonder what Kevan does when his top men fuck up?" Myranda giggled until Harold's fist sent her into blackness.

 

Kevan stared at the window, he looked at the moon as he listened to Harold on the phone. "She would have agreed to the younger ones leaving. Why didn't you just go with that? Since you two brought her to me in the first place, I assumed you would understand her breaking point. That wasn't the right way to go about punishing your charge, was it? We will be discussing that most thoroughly later. Clean it up immediately, make it look like one of the daughter's perhaps did it. Begging the question, what to do with all ten of them?"

In a chastened voice, Harold asked with only the smallest of hesitance, "Should we...dispose of the girls? We can overdose them, make it painless." Kevan gave a shiver of disgust and replied fast. "No, gods, no. Keep them calm and quiet, not near their disgusting corpse of a father either. I will call you back on what we are going to do for the girls. Take care of that film and the man making it. And I expect to see my student in my office as soon as she returns and Unella has tended to her." He hung up and nearly screamed, "Fuck!" Harold and Bob rarely fucked up, perhaps he shouldn't have lectured them about the Jeyne thing so harshly just before they had left. It made them act rashly and now this.

 

Gilly heard the knock on her door and put down the book she was reading. Throwing off the covers and throwing on her robe, Gilly hurried to the door. It was late night and no one has ever bothered her once it was dark. Living in Kevan's nice house, having her own room, it had been a dream come true. She doesn't have to converse with anyone but Kevan and his men. She enjoys the domestic chores and gets along well with the kind chef in the kitchen. This was paradise after the living nightmare of her father. The knock on the door shook her because this is what she had been waiting for. The day that someone decided to sample what Gilly had been for her father. Gilly would not protest of course, it was too nice of a place to risk losing. She only hoped it was Kevan rather than Bob or Harold. Those two made her flesh crawl when they smiled at her.

Kevan was still dressed in his lounging pants and smoking jacket, his hands folded behind his back, a solemn look on his face. "Excuse me for disturbing you at this late hour, my dear. I have some rather distressing news and a situation I need some help from you with. Craster has passed away, your father is dead. Is there a relative I can call for your sisters? I offer a lifetime position to you here with us, Gilly, but I cannot take on ten sisters. This is no place for small children, dear." He waited patiently while the shock passed over Gilly's face that her monster was dead. Then she shook her head and firmly spoke. "My sisters can take care of themselves. We have been doing it for a long time. My oldest sisters will watch and protect the younger ones. If..if you could give them new identities, they could disappear." Kevan nodded as if pondering this. "Of course, I need to be sure they would never speak of it. They would have to forget their past, do you think that they can do that?"

"They hated him, feared him as much as I did. They want no part of him or his memory. All any of us ever wanted to do was get away from him and forget." Kevan gave a small smile and pulled out his phone. "Very well then. I will tell Harold and Bob to do that very thing and you will speak with your sisters and assure me that they will  never speak of it." Gilly sobbed as she spoke with her oldest sisters and Kevan discreetly handed her a hanky while looking elsewhere. He calculated the cost of new names, new clothing and money to travel for those ten girls. Then he started to deduct it mentally from Harold and Bob.

 

The screams of Sansa and Damon ripped through the night air. Polliver, Raff and Piggy all ran out of the cabin, heading towards the screaming. They saw the group of kids all clutching each other, Theon screaming and flew past them. Gregor came from the woods where he was hoping to flush Jeyne from, Unella had been searching the sheds. Both came flying at the screams, forgetting their momentary fears of why they couldn't find Jeyne.

When Gregor discovered he couldn't track her, Unella had gone off the handle for a few minutes until Gregor slapped her. "If those morons took her tracker out, it means she is secured, restrained. They wouldn't be stupid with it. She is probably chained up, hidden, I found my chains missing earlier." Unella had almost lost it again. "Chains? Gregor, remember how she triggers around chains? What have those fucking idiots done? Tomorrow is visitor's day, did they really think we'd fuck her up before visitor's day? Idiots! Never mind hurting Jeyne, now I just want to hurt Raff and Polliver!"   

But before they could finish searching and then hurting Raff and Polliver, screams came and they ran.

Stannis and Tyrion were drunk and deep into a fierce battle from days of yore. The screams came in through the open windows and suddenly Christians and Vikings ceased mid battle as the professors staggered out the door. Sandor had been lecturing Loras about being out of bounds during curfew when the screams sent them both running towards the dorm house. Kevan had taken the phone back from Gilly when the chaos faintly rose in through Gilly's open balcony doors. "Oh my. Sounds like I need to take a walk and visit the students. Thank you for your help, dear, please enjoy your evening."

 

Upon sight of Sansa, bloody, bruised and clearly raped, who was hysterically pointing, gibbering about Damon and the Tickler, Sandor and Gregor shared a glance and left. Unella and Raff rushed the girl to the clinic and Polliver was left to deal with clearly fucked up ducklings, all flipping their flippers over the Tickler. Loras stood there with his jaw open and then cast a glance at Hot Pie. "The Tickler is real? An actual person called the Tickler just dragged Damon away? For good? How do you find this shit? How does this happen?"

With a dark glint in his eye, Hot Pie smirked and said with true honesty, "The Tickler is absolutely real. And if you try to find him, you won't. He finds you, but only if you really deserve it. If you ever see him, your chances of survival here become very fucked. Not many get a second chance after seeing the Tickler. I really hope we see Damon again. I really thought he was just a stupid kid that Ramsay took advantage of." Loras nodded and narrowed his eyes. "That was my impression too. But I did see him talking to Ramsay earlier today. Damon might be dumb but with Ramsay in his ear..."

Raff sedated Sansa while Unella glared at him, taking the girl's pulse. "You are a fucking moron! Chains? How could you forget that of all things? Where is she now? Is she fully catatonic?" Grabbing the nearby tray of medical tools and yanking it closer for the doctor, Raff sneered. "Oh, fuck you. I fucked up, okay? I was the one that deserved to punish her, not you! She is my student, not yours! And I won't let you lobotomize her or shock her brain! I won't let Gregor snap her neck or break her bones into new and interesting pretzel shapes!" Unella gestured for Raff to move the surgical light into another position so she could fully examine Sansa's face.   

 

As Raff moved the light until Unella gave him a thumbs up, he pointed with the other hand down as Sansa's bloody, swollen face.

"See this shit? I don't want this to be Jeyne's face. I actually care about her beyond the damned project. She is still a human being. And a kid, a traumatized fucking kid! I might have fucked up and scared her too much but at least I remember that she is a person, a child that came to me for help!" Unella snorted. "With help like yours..." Unella barked out orders as she stitched up a small part of the swollen mess. Most of it would simply have to heal, it was messy but nothing was broken luckily.

With a frown of distaste, she dryly told Raff to set up another tray. "We must check for tears, it was clear Sansa was raped. I just can't believe that boy did it. Did you have any indication of it?" Raff shook his head. "Not a bit. He was doing a lot better, kept saying he had a secret friend to help him out. Wouldn't tell me who, but I figured it was Sansa. He had that doggy worship look in his eyes when she would go past him."

Unella sighed, "Raff, regardless of what you think of us, of me, I wouldn't have done those things to Jeyne. And Gregor wouldn't have broken or murdered her. Think of what Kevan would do to us for such a thing? And any revenge on her would have waited until after visitor's day. Kevan wouldn't have enjoyed any disruptions to his public day. And here we all are now, this is a huge disruption. Add Jeyne to this mess and Kevan might be the one to murder us!"

 

Sandor frowned as they climbed down the path in the woods nearby. "I'm just saying to talk to the boy before you let Trant really have at him. The boy isn't the type to do that shit on his own. Not once did he try again all this time and I've seen the way he looks at her, he worshiped her." Gregor gave his brother an accidental kick in the leg and sneered. "Are you a teacher now? A counselor? Do you dream of being more than a part of the landscape?" Sandor glared at Gregor. His voice was gruff but still respectful in it's tone, even if it was an unwilling respect.

"No, but guess what? Being part of the landscape means no one sees you anymore, you aren't really there. No more important than a rock or flower. I see things you don't, I hear things you don't, so I know these kids a different way." Gregor seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment as they kept walking and finally he slumped his shoulders slightly. "Okay then, flower, what did you see and hear that we didn't?"

"I saw Damon punch Ramsay once for talking about trying to rape Sansa. I saw how the boy always shadowed her to protect her if he thought that Ramsay was around. And when I had to fix the solar panes and worked near their room, I saw inside the bedroom. I saw the girl teaching him how to read. It's all I ever saw them do for the two days I was working over there. Today I was in the garden fixing that stupid scarecrow when Damon and Ramsay came by to talk privately. I heard Damon tell Ramsay that he won't be his buddy anymore. Ramsay started to argue and threaten and Damon just kept listing reasons why he couldn't hang out anymore. Every single reason had to do with something Sansa said. The boy said Sansa in every other word and Ramsay nearly yanked his own hair out. So why after that would Damon just lose control and hurt the one person he worships?"

Gregor groaned. "Fucking kids. I hate the little games they play. Won't matter anyway. Once Kevan sees Sansa's face, hears the story, he will want to blame it on all of the staff. We are all about to get our own fucking tickling by Kevan himself. Tomorrow is visitor's day and what does he have to present to the Starks but a raped and abused daughter? Whether she planned it or Damon slipped up, it won't matter. It still happened and that is all that Kevan will care about, all the damned Starks will care about."

 

Polliver was hanging onto his temper by a thread. Normally when his baton swung a few times, ducklings got against a wall and shut up. Tonight he felt like he was playing Whack-A-Duck as they all spun around. Feathers were ruffled and sharp paranoid eyes glanced everywhere as they all moved less like ducks and more like squirrels at a rave. "I want order, dammit! Everyone better find a piece of wall or at least stay on a fucking piece of furniture! Stop moving and freeze or I'll-" He caught Ramsay on the hip as the ice cold eyes flared at him. The boy was dragging Theon by his wrist as he stormed back over to Polliver for the countless time. "I will tell my father that you've killed Damon! Do you hear me? He was harmless, that cunt, that gingerbitch did this herself!"

Joff and Loras were babbling as if they were being interviewed by the local news on the sighting of the Tickler. Arya kept trying to shove Ramsay aside to holler at Polliver, trying in vain to avoid the baton. "Hey! Ow! Listen, I should be with-Ahh shit! My sister needs me!" Looking past the dodging ducklings, Polliver snarled out to Hot Pie, "Get back to Raff's cabin and stop being useless! Get Jeyne to talk or something! Move!" Nodding, Hot Pie ran to the cabin, narrowly avoiding running into Kevan. He burst into the living room to find it empty. The whole cabin was empty and Jeyne was gone.   

 

Tyrion and Stannis were not happy to be the ones to actually run into Kevan. He demanded to know answers of questions they have not yet examined. However, all three of them heard the word Tickler a few times from the dorm house window. Kevan's face darkened like a storm cloud and he strode forth like a demon set upon it's meal. The two professors chose to hear of this in the morning then pretended to slowly head to their own cabins. They ran into each other a few moments later in the darkness to eavesdrop.

 When Kevan entered the dorm, all the ducklings finally responded. All of them either backed into a wall or sat down, but all of them had bright overexcited eyes. They were barely able to keep themselves still and Kevan noted this carefully. After surveying the ducklings rather disapprovingly, Kevan turned his gaze onto Polliver. "I see you are missing some of your children. Where are Hot Pie, Jeyne, Sansa and Damon? And I swore I heard the name Tickler? Did I hear that right?" With a swallow that hurt, Polliver forced words out. "Yes, Sir. Uh, Damon attacked Sansa. The Tickler took him. Raff and Unella took Sansa, her face was...injured. Hot Pie and Jeyne are in Raff's cabin."

The ducklings watched with bright little empty eyes as Kevan gave Polliver a hurt, sad smile that made the younger man pale a bit. "I see that all of my ducks have been out of line. What an example this has been for all the new students." Without another word or glance, Kevan dismissed Polliver from his immediate existence. Casting a severe eye at the students, he snapped out, "Anyone not in their rooms within five minutes will be brought to my office to discuss why you are all impaired." The ducklings flew to their rooms and even Loras moved, not wishing to face any other wraths they might find. Kevan waited only until the children left before leaving and storming towards the clinic.

Chapter Text

Kevan looked down at Sansa's face and swore quietly. The girl was still dozing under the sedation and they had covered her up to her neck in a sheet. He turned a much harder gaze upon Unella and Raff. They followed his gesture and left the room. Kevan opened Unella's office door and herded the other two in the small room. He shut the door and began to slowly back both of them up. "How bad is the damage to this girl?" Raff spoke first. "From neck down the bruising is consistent with rough sex." Unella added, "A few minor tears internally but nothing unusual for someone if they had rough sex. No semen found for what that's worth."

"Rough sex? What teenage girl wants rough sex where the guy destroys their face with a fist?" Angrily, Kevan mimicked a high pitched female tone. "Oh yes, please drive me hard against the wall and now smash my face hard enough to break it?" Both of them flushed and looked down but Unella spoke in their defense.

"Sir, her face looks worse than the actual damage. Only a few stitches and a rather large contusion. Nothing is broken or fractured, it will heal in time without issue. As for Damon, Raff and I both worked with him. He never gave any indications that he was thinking of violence. It was common knowledge around the staff that the boy seemed to worship his roommate. We saw improvement with the boy, he was becoming a very gentle and obedient kid, the teachers all spoke of how hard he was trying and how much he was improving in his academics. He told them he had a secret tutor but wouldn't say who. We all knew it was Sansa."

Kevan sighed then tapped his pen against his chin. "How did Sansa react when she was found?" "Polliver and I got there first, Sir. The girl was hysterical, her bra was ripped, only wearing her skirt, face all messed up. She kept screaming about the Tickler stealing Damon. She wasn't screaming over a rape, she was pointing and screaming about the Tickler taking Damon." Unella nodded. "Even when we got her here, until we sedated her that was all she kept screaming about. She didn't answer any questions. We didn't even seem to register to her."

With fear and respect, Unella and Raff stood their ground, staring up at him with steady belief. Kevan stared hard then shook his head.

"Do you have any proof to offer me that this boy is innocent? Are you ready to stand by your statement that Sansa might be playing us? That she organized her own rape? I have a problem with this theory...her damned FACE! And regardless...this is not the way we can present to the Starks. I want to know the second the girl is awake. If she is coherent, question her then send her to me. After you've sent me the report. Even if she is still babbling, treat her and call me. Sansa doesn't leave this clinic unless it is to come to my house and she is to have no visitors. Keep her little sister away from the clinic. Raff will offer medications at the dorm house or school until Sansa is no longer in the clinic. As for your theory, I do not dismiss it, I just require proof before I believe that girl would deliberately ruin her face!"

 

Damon totally forgot that he was a muscled large boy capable of savagery. As his father has taught him years ago so many times, as Ramsay taught him for years afterwards, size doesn't always matter. The fear, the black terror, what Sansa did, this story book monster come true, he was paralyzed and only able to sob and scream. Dragging for what felt like forever, Damon hollered until he had nearly no voice left. The lair of the beast was reached as Damon was dropped and rolled into a packed earth patch inside a black tent.

He thrashed, trying to pull himself together enough to squirm away, a wheeze of terror coming from him, but the monster took over the space in the tent and was over Damon. A terrible stench as if the man ate the bottom chunky parts in the sewers, it smothered him as the man leaned close and spoke. The smile could still be dimly seen, those teeth seemed so big and jagged, they opened and Damon saw empty space, as empty as those glittering eyes. A voice that was half hoarse whisper and half a chuckling hiss.

"Boy, do you like to beat up and rape pretty girls? Yes, yes? You must love such things, I love things like that too. Sweet piece of boy-meat, I like to beat up and rape pretty boys. You are pretty to me, sometimes I like to rape pretty things...sometimes I like to eat them. I wonder where to start with you, pretty boy?" Damon wailed and tried to move but a slick thick thing slid up his cheek, leaving a slimy trail. "NO! Please, I didn't, I wouldn't, she...she swore it would be safe, she destroyed her pretty face, I didn't! Please, don't eat me! Don't rape me, don't eat me! Oh gods, please I will be a good boy, I will do so much better, I will! I am sorry, I didn't know Sansa would do that. Please!"

Chuckling heartily into Damon's ear, the man started to touch him, with his jeans wrapped and torn into it's own bondage around his ankles, his privates were easily found. The man squeezed Damon's testicles with a moist warm hand and Damon sobbed, his hands scratching into the dirt.

 

Outside of the tent, Sandor raised an eyebrow and looked at Gregor. "Did you hear enough yet? You heard what Damon just screamed, right? Wanna wait until after Meryn is balls deep in the boy to see if Damon changes his story?" Gregor whacked Sandor's head hard enough to hurt before entering the tent, nearly knocking the thing down as it could take no more residency. He gagged as he saw that Meryn already had his hard purple cock in his hand aiming into enter the boy.

"That's enough. I want to talk to him before you continue, Tickler." With a groan and a curse, the man glared up at Gregor. "This is my only fucking perk to night shift. Talk to him after or tell me what you want to hear, I'll get it from him." Gregor shook his head and folded his arms, staring down at Meryn with revulsion. "If you don't get off him, I can see to it that you'll never get your fun again here. I'll make you a real school legend. Don't worry, with this crowd, I'm sure you'll have other chances."

Kevan showed up while Gregor and Sandor were still speaking with the shaking, sobbing boy. Gregor was holding the shivering boy and speaking in a very kind but firm tone. "Calm down, there you go...breathe. I know you don't want to go back to see Tickler so you must be calm and honest with me. Can you do that for me, boy? To keep the Tickler away? Be calm. Be honest." Damon was nodding and he didn't see Kevan observing from the trees. "Uh huh. Calm. Honest. Please, don't let him...please..I am so sorry I was bad. I am so sorry!"

Gregor gave a gentle smile and his voice was reassuring as if talking to a child. "I can see how sorry you are, Damon. I understand that part and I am glad that you are sorry for bad actions. Can you tell me what you are sorry for? What did you do, what did Sansa do? What happened before the Tickler showed up, Damon?"

Damon burst into sobs and his words were all in a near hoarse shout. "I don't know! We were talking...then the pill...then she said, she touched..we did and like Ramsay...the thoughts because she says like Ramsay and then...the window, it was so good and I knew it was wrong but..then she smashed her face, oh her poor face and I screamed because...why and then THE TICKLER!" The last was screeched and Damon covered his face with his hands.

Frowning, Kevan gestured to Sandor, who instantly came over. "Take the boy to the old community room. I will send Unella to asses and calm him down. Stay with him and keep speaking with him. Try and get the damned facts out of him. Tell Meryn I said good work, but he may go back to his usual shift responsibilities now. Sadly, regardless of what happened, I need this boy presentable and sensible tomorrow. If need be we can keep him hidden unless requested, then it can be a supervised private visit. Those that pay for students to be here expect to see those students at least in some capacity."

 

Kevan came upon Polliver trying to strangle Hot Pie in front of Raff's cabin. "Excuse me, Polliver. I am dreadfully sorry to disturb you while you are strangling one of my students to death. Should I come back later after you've finished and buried the best cook you'll ever be receiving or should I just wait here? I truly don't want to ruin your night, but there have been a few small hiccups here and now I am concerned you are adding another problem for me."

Polliver released the gasping boy and apologized to Kevan. "I'm sorry, Sir. I lost my temper with the boy." Dryly, Kevan responded, "So I can see. Might I ask why? And if you two are both out here and Raff is with Unella, who is watching Jeyne? Did you not say earlier that Jeyne was in Raff's cabin with Hot Pie? Which alone is interesting. Why are you trying to murder your own personal disciple, Polliver?" Flushing, Polliver looked at Hot Pie, they shared a quick glance of terror and Kevan's heart sank a little more. "Please tell me that you did not lose the girl. Gregor will be irritated at having to track her down."

That is when Hot Pie spoke in nearly a whisper. "Sir, Raff removed Jeyne's tracker and put her in chains in the old cellar. She triggered and never came out of it." Kevan closed his eyes briefly and the two started to inch backwards. "So...we have no way of tracking Jeyne and she is out there somewhere, not in her right mind. Excellent work, gentlemen. Amazing blunders. Alright. I guess you will have a very busy night looking for her. I will suggest you get Raff and Gregor to assist you. Tomorrow is visitors day, her father expects to see her out there...how do I tell him his daughter is missing and fully feral right now? Oh wait, I still have to inform the Starks that their pretty daughter was beaten and raped. Not to mention YOUR little duckling, Polliver, who got to fly away for a few days and just killed a client."

Polliver gasped in shock. "Wait, if Whore has messed up out there then that is on Bob and Harold, Sir. I can't know how she will handle situations out of the school!"

A condescending laugh and Kevan raised an amused eyebrow as he spoke lightly. "Son, haven't you counseled your own ducklings about how if one bad thing happens, it can hurt everyone? Well every single duck has managed to fuck up tonight and I am cheerily all about making sure everyone's pain is shared fully. Since most of the clean up responsibility ultimately falls on me, doesn't it? Find that feral girl. Now."

 

Myranda winced and yelped as Bob smacked a bag of ice against her swollen cheek. A finger in her face, Bob snarled out, "Not a word. Do not move, do not speak. Hold the ice against your face and think about what a bad girl you've been." She gave a sullen and sober glare that let him know that not only wasn't the girl repentant, that it wasn't just the drugs that made her do it. Bob's own temper flared and he grabbed her free hand, the bandaged one. He smacked it smartly several times until she cried out. "Bad girl! Bad, bad girl!"

Bob got up and stormed over to Harold as the doorbell rang in the suite. A creepy man with a goatee came in and gave her a quick glance that made her skin crawl. They referred to him as Locke and gave him cleaning instructions. Myranda pretended not to exist and allowed her mind to block out everything until Bob told her to get up. With her escorts on either side of her, Myranda was hurried out the back exit of the hotel and bundled into a car with them. It wasn't a limousine this time, it was still fancy but much smaller, a regular car. The driver was behind dimmed glass and was no more than a shadow.

Pressed hard between two angry mentors, Myranda stayed silent. She was going between simmering with anger and swimming in icy terror at her own daring. When Harold spoke, Myranda jumped slightly, his voice was tight with rage still. "We could have left you in Gin Alley, we should just drop you back to Karl. How much did you steal from that pimp of yours again? Didn't he swear he would break most of your little delicate face if you ever got out of jail and you didn't pay him back? I can't believe we took you out of prison, saved your life, bettered you with a free education just for this...For you to disappoint us. Just more proof at how disloyal you really are." With a gasp of indignation, Myranda turned to stare at Harold. "I am not disloyal! Don't you dare say that!"

Harold stuck his face in hers, he took off his glasses and those colorless eyes made Myranda whimper. "No? You didn't hide what Jeyne was up to from the staff? Jeyne didn't tell you or that cook what she was planning? That wasn't very loyal to us, to Kevan, was it? Now you murder a client rather than doing what you were told to do? Disloyalty is a very big deal, sweetheart. A very bad thing. We are very upset with you and so is Kevan. He wants to see you right away, dear. As soon as we return. This should worry you. I can see in your eyes that you aren't even sorry for what you've done. Have we failed with you, my dear little whore? Should we bother to try and defend you to Kevan at all?"

"I don't want to die. I don't want to have to face Karl either but I couldn't just let that monster live. I am not sorry I killed him, but I am sorry I was disloyal. I didn't know that Jeyne would go through with it! She always overreacts and sometimes mimics the way others say they want revenge. I sort of knew..but I didn't. That wasn't meant to be disloyal! I'm sorry that I didn't think it through. But it's all I can be sorry for, no matter what happens. No matter how scared I am, I have to have at least a few things to be proud of when I die. Like killing a beast and not sinking to it's level."

Bob grabbed Myranda's chin and turned her face towards him, lest Harold lose his temper again. "If Kevan let's you live, if he is kind enough to accept your apology for causing him this trouble...you will be grateful. And then you will fall to your knees in front of us, grateful that we have allowed you another chance. That Kevan believes in our word enough. Tell me that this will never happen again. Ever. That you will accept any punishment given and apologize humbly. I want to hear you say it." Myranda looked up at him and didn't say what she was thinking. If they ever put her in that situation again she would do it again.

Instead she gave an earnest trembling promise. "I am sorry for causing trouble and being disloyal. I will never be disloyal or murder a client again. And I am ready to face whatever punishment I have to."   

 

Arya stood at the window in her bedroom that faced towards the clinic. Her fingers dug into the windowsill and the breeze soothed her upset nerves. Joff was lounging on his bed, going on and on about the damned Tickler. "I'm just glad that you are too ugly for me to think of raping!" Arya snorted in revulsion and sneered out, "Wow. Thanks a lot." Shrugging, Joff went on. "I thought about raping Oscar but Death Row wanted to rape her too. I didn't want to deal with competition. Figured I'd let him break her in first." He yelled when Arya turned and threw the first thing she could reach at him.

Joff rubbed his shoulder and threw the book back at her, missing Arya by a good amount. Arya glared at him and stared back out the window. "I am going to need your help tomorrow. What happened to my sister has to be enough for them to pull us out of here! We have to make sure that my mother and yours hear all about it! Everything bad here including the Tickler! If Damon is dead and Sansa is raped and beaten up, it has to be enough! We can't let this get buried or eased over, we have to rebel and make sure we tell our mothers everything!"

 

Theon watched nervously as Ramsay paced and raged like a brutal winter's storm. Trying not to feel jealous at Ramsay's concern for Damon, Theon attempted to calm him down. "I doubt that Damon was killed. I mean..they really can't just go about killing students! Tomorrow all the adults will be here, they can't have a dead student!"  Ramsay came down on Theon like a tsunami, knocking him flat onto the bed, gnashing teeth only inches from his face.

"Don't you get what this place is, yet? It's a fucking prison for teenagers, some never leave, some don't surface again! Of course they can kill someone if they have to! But my father will not stand for Damon's death...there will be hell to pay and if father doesn't do it, I will! Stop your fucking jealousy, Theon, I can see right through you! I hate jealousy, I don't like dramatics, lover. Don't make me have to flay another little bit off you."

Theon stroked Ramsay's face with soft, trembling hands and tried to hide his terror. "Please, I'm sorry, don't flay me. I love you and I will help you save Damon and yourself, no matter what. I'll always do anything for you, please, I promise no more dramatics, I swear it. If you love Damon, then I accept it. Just as long as you love me too, it doesn't matter."   

Ramsay gave Theon a kiss that ended with blood smeared on both their lips.

"Be good for me, Theon. You are different from Damon, nothing like him, my little kraken. Damon wasn't smart, he wasn't arrogant, he didn't calm me. He made me only want to do worse, to watch Damon go savage with me. It's not that way with you, Theon. You make me feel calmer, so when I do plan out an attack or a hunt, I will be focused better. And it will be so sweet to train you, baby, trust me, you'll have so much fun with me. But I told you before that you needed to accept Damon, you said you would and I hold you to that. If he is still alive, you must help me save him. If he is dead, you must help me get revenge. Either way, the first step is to tell my father."

Chapter Text

Loras sat in the tiny bathroom, curled in the empty bathtub with his cell, returned by Arya. He tried hard to ignore Ramsay's ranting and Theon's attempts to pacify him. The rooming was horrific, he spent most of his time hiding in here or reading in the room, pretending they don't exist. Loras tried to remember the last time he was able to not pretend something. He couldn't think of a time, ever and that made him a little sad.

Here was a reason to smile a little again. Pictures on his phone and a recording that he played softly. Sadly, the party recording had nothing really amazing on it but the kids did mention many things. All unproven rumors of course, but still it's leads to follow. And pictures of the group using drugs and alcohol in the woods at night. All minors unsupervised. Lovely, that might be a picture worth something. Loras heard with half an ear that Ramsay and Theon were fucking in the bedroom. Sighing, Loras curled tighter and switched the photo so he could look at his lover one last time.

Closing his eyes, Loras began to rub himself, thinking of the one man who captured his heart, there will never be another like him. Then just as Loras began to breathe heavier, he flashed a memory in his head. Renly and his sister with her poor face gone and Loras started to sob instead. "I'm so fucking sorry, I loved you both so much, oh gods, I can never atone, never forgive myself for it! Please, please, don't hate me, only you ever saw me not pretend. And I am so sorry, I wish I could take it back, take the whole night back! This has to be worth it, worth everything. Has to be. I'm so sorry and I will never stop loving you and never forgive myself."

With a sniffle, Loras switched the photo to show his lovely sister and his handsome finance. "Both of you were so beautiful. Oh, gods, Marge, you deserved to die lovely as ever, not like that mangled thing. And Renly, you will never forgive me for letting reporters take pictures of you with your suit and body so messed up." Loras burst into another round of self pitying tears only tinged with a deeper regret.  

 

The entire place outside of the dorm house was lit up as if it were holding a nighttime concert. Every light was turned on brightly and each of the staff carried strong flashlights. Hot Pie, Polliver, Raff and Gregor were searching, calling out for Jeyne, checking all her usual hiding places first. Eventually they began to spread out towards the woods, fields and the one lonely road that led to Kevan's school.

Sandor was calmly talking to Damon, he had the boy sipping water and eating some cookies. The boy's story changed a bit once the boy had calmed down. It was interesting to say the least. Damon gave the same tale of how Sansa gave him a drug, talked him into rough sex then whacked her face into the window edge twice. However, the way he told it, placed all the blame squarely on himself in the most absurd way.

"I...I would talk to Sansa about stuff that Ramsay would do with me, that we would do to other kinds of girls, ...not stuff meant for a lady. She probably got the idea from it! I shouldn't have said those things. Sansa only shared her medication because I was all upset. Why was I upset...uh, I had to tell Ramsay we won't be friends anymore. So she shared her pill so I would calm down. I think maybe Sansa hurt her face because she didn't understand rough sex, maybe? She was scared when the Tickler came, I heard her scream more then! No, she never screamed until she hit her face. I am very sorry, I know I made so many mistakes. Please don't let the Tickler have me!"

Unella rushed in and Damon screeched, thinking it was the monster again. Sandor kept the boy in the chair by holding both the broad shoulders.

"Shush with this nonsense, kid. Look at the doctor, she isn't the Tickler. I told you he is done with you now. We are seeing Unella and then the next person you'll probably see is Kevan. So just take a breath, okay? There ya go, just relax." Unella worked fast, checking his pupils, the boy's vital signs were taken and she tried to speak with a gentler tone than usual. "Damon, do you know what drug you took tonight?" "No, Doctor. I'm sorry. It was Sansa's medication. She had it in her pocket." Unella attempted to smile at the boy. "Where did Sansa get the medication, do you know?" "I think she gets it from the school nurse like everyone else."

Sandor and Unella shared a quick glance then the doctor sat down in front of Damon. She asked for his story and he gave her the same story he told Sandor. Unella patted the boy's knee which made him squirm and whimper. Swiftly, she removed her hand and spoke. "Damon, I would like you to stay in here for now. I am going to give you an I.V. to get some fluids into you. Help flush away this bad drug inside of you and make you relax instead. Okay? I am going to take a little blood sample too." Damon stared at her in wide eyed fear and shook. "I have to have needles too? Is that part of my punishment?"

"No, Damon. It's to help you, not hurt you. I know the needle is scary but it's just one you'll have to feel, okay? Sandor will hold you if you'd like or just your hand? Or would you like the relaxing medicine first?" Sandor held the boy's hand and even Unella felt pity for this large child that has been most thoroughly used. Unella waited only long enough for the boy to sink into the chair, eyes half closed before contacting Kevan.

"Sir, this boy was most certainly not responsible. He has just told myself and Sandor the story, several times over. Also, he was clearly drugged and he swears that it was from Sansa's own medications. No student has medications except when Raff gives them. It seems to be the same drug the other children were high on but I shall have it tested, I took a sample of Damon's blood. Let me tell you what story he has told us."

 

Sansa's face was half lovely and half a domestic abuse ad. The little black stitches in her cheek made a terrible fashion accessory. Her hair hung around her face and she hid her body in a sweat suit. She wished she had better armor standing in Kevan's home, with the imposing man himself looking at her as if he wanted to puke. Regardless, she pulled herself tall and waiting silently. She waited for the man to make the first move, after all, it was his house and his rules.

Kevan spread his arms out and gave a very sympathetic smile after spending five minutes simply staring at her. The girl didn't crack once and he was impressed, oh yes, impressed as hell. Of course, if she was smart, she would have looked away or cried if she really wanted to sell it. But beginners shouldn't be discouraged and Kevan decided if this night could have one bright spot, this was it. He could at least enjoy playing with this little ginger scrap that thought to play the big girl games.

However, he had to be careful, the girl was still about to see her parents the next day. He needed her cooperation, Kevan had to find out how to appease Sansa just enough. Then once her parents were gone, Kevan would set the young lady straight about her scheming. "My poor girl, I am so very sorry this has happened to you! Are you desperate for the warm and loving arms of your mother perhaps? For her to just whisk you away? Would you like that, dear?" A flash of terror was there and gone in a heartbeat. And Kevan thought, got you, sweetheart.

Instead of becoming comforted, Sansa was growing agitated, chewing at her lip. Kevan headed towards his desk to pick up his cell phone. The girl was too sore, still coming out of sedation and too new at the game. He waited for it and sighed, beginning to search for the Stark number. "I must do the right thing for you, Sansa. If you were raped by this boy, beaten, not only does the boy deserve what he gets, but I must call your mother and allow her to take you out of this school."

Before Kevan tapped the icon, Sansa broke out in mild panic. She took a step or two forward and blurted out, "Stop! Please, I manipulated Damon! I hurt myself after I tricked him into having sex with me! Please, don't call my mother, don't let Tickler kill Damon! I'll take whatever punishment you want, but please don't call her!"

Kevan put down the phone and sat at the edge of his desk and swept his hand out. "Have a seat, dear. Let's have a small chat. Now, explain to me why you do that to the poor dumb fool? If you weren't trying to leave with your parents, what was the point of such a horrible thing? And don't worry, your game was figured out in enough time for Damon to only have been mildly traumatized and assaulted." Now came the red face and the tears. Not the over dramatic ones or the pretty ones. Just a few tears, not many but her eyes were red and filled with a regret. The shame was only over being caught but it was clear the girl did care in someway for the boy.

Sansa sniffed and wiped her tears then cleared her throat. "I was hoping my Uncle would help me leave here. That he would see my arm in the sling and take me away, let me go missing. He has always liked me, I was the favorite niece because I listened to him. But he can't come and I didn't want to stay in the situation I was in. I thought if I faked the beating and rape that you would want to bargain with me so that I could stay but in better circumstances." Kevan stared at Sansa, blinked then burst into a soft genteel laughter.

"With a mother like Cat, an aunt like Lysa and and uncle like Petyr, no wonder you are all messed up, darling girl. Well, never fear, I agree with you, I don't think you should leave with your mother. We need to connect on our story to her however to keep you here. Now, since you went through such great effort, please tell me two things. Two things and we will see if i feel your needs are something I can accommodate for you or not." Sansa showed a bit of surprise that Kevan would be so generous and amused rather than angry.

"What did you hope for from me out of this? The second thing is, why do you fear leaving with your mother so much?"

"I wanted my own room, I just need some privacy. I am seventeen, I am a woman and have privacy needs. I wanted less Gregor based activities and less therapy time. And most of all, I want to choose my mentor past the usual staff. I am aware that even Harold and Bob do mentoring on Myranda. Well, I would like you to be my mentor, Sir. That...that was what I would have asked for." Sansa turned even redder and looked down at her lap. Kevan raised his eyebrows, he didn't expect the last bit at all. He wondered if he should be flattered or wary. He couldn't deny that he was interested. 

"Well, I am flattered, Sansa. I shall think upon the mentoring for a moment. I can allow you a room of your own. I can easily reduce those other classes and therapies. But I asked you two questions. So please answer the second one now. Why are you so scared to leave with your mother? If I am to mentor you, I would need to trust you and know that you are honest with me." Sansa took a deep breath then spoke in a bitter voice.

"My mother wishes to rule me and rule through me just like her other children. I wanted to save Arya and myself from that. If I leave here with my mother she will want me to get engaged to Rickard Karstark. A man known for his enjoyment of young boys rather than young ladies. I would have to marry him in a year, pretend to enjoy it, go to a prestigious university of her choice at the same time, classes and career of her choosing, of course. Breed for mother when she decided it was time. All because the Starkards have a company she would like to overtake. I can't live that way anymore, Sir. But those who don't follow her plan or displease her, they end up like Rickon and Jon. I don't want to end up like them and I don't want to live tied to my mother's rulings."

Kevan nodded and smiled. "And now...why do you want me to mentor you?" Sansa looked up at Kevan and he saw three sets of female eyes staring back at him from the past. Ah, there it was, that steel, stone crazy look come and gone. And yet, another chance to harness it or try to as he always has in the past.

"Sir, I have trained with my mother, I have observed my aunt quite closely and my uncle Petyr has also spent considerable time training me. But all of them combined leave me unsatisfied, they aren't truly what I want to learn from. My mother is too cold, my uncle is too ruthless and wants only to use me as much as my mother does and my aunt was crafty but utterly nuts. I was hoping to learn from Cersei for awhile but...then I saw what she really was like and I don't wish to be that either. I came here and this is my only chance to learn from the best."

Tilting his head, Kevan said mildly, "If it is a Lannister you need to learn from, Tyrion Lannister is already your mentor, isn't he?" Sansa nodded. "We were told we had to pick a mentor. Tyrion was my best fit for academics and I would still keep him as such if possible." Another chuckle and Kevan crossed his legs, tapping his gold pen on his knee. "What a greedy thing you are, two mentors, eh? Well, then Ms. Stark, in order for any accommodations from me, I will expect certain things in return. Caught at your game but I am still ready to allow you to make a proper deal with me."

Sansa nodded and leaned forward. Kevan played with his pen and pinned her with his hard eyes. "I expect complete cooperation on whatever story we tell your parents about your face. I expect you to accept whatever proper punishment we decide you deserve for the terrible trick you have played on Damon. Whatever additional grief you might receive from Polliver is your own problem. Accept it and it will end soon enough. Can you do these things for me? If so, then I will give you all the things you asked for. Excellent." Kevan had to admit, in spite of all the issues involved, it was such a delight to find such a fun thing as a slippery, crafty stone heart girl again.  

Kevan leaned forward and smiled at the nodding girl.

"Remind me sometime to tell you some tales. I had three young ladies that were very much like you. They were all thick as thieves but twice as cold hearted. Do you know what I had nicknamed them as a group? The Stoneheart Gang. I don't want you to be like them, Sansa. If I mentor you, perhaps we can make you different from all those bad influences and create some real good out of you. I can teach you how to gain power and loyalty without such tactics as those harpies would use. As for Petyr, let me give you a small tip, sweet summer child. He is a predator and a vulture, I have known him and worked with him. He also works for your mother, never forget that. If Petyr had tender thoughts towards you and just murdered his wife, what do you think he was offering you? To hide you then smuggle you into your own freedom? No, he was going to double cross your mother and marry you or marry you off to another for his own profit. Leaving with Petyr is just going to another jailer." 

Sansa's face fell again and Kevan enjoyed watching the spark of hope go in and out like a flickering light.

"Very well then. I will give you your mentor-ship, a room and adjusted schedule. I expect you to accept you punishments without complaint and you will help me keep your parents from any alarm over your face. Now, onto our story for your dedicated and loving family..."

Chapter Text

Gregor was deep in the woods when he finally found Jeyne. He heard rustling above in the trees and shone his light up into the branches. "Jeyne? Are you up there? Yup, it's you. What are you doing up there? Are you trading being a feral for being a monkey? Come down here. Kevan is very worried about you, Raff is sorry he forgot that chains scared you." The nice talking, reassuring smile did nothing and Jeyne only went up one branch, staring down at Gregor with fear and wariness.

There was no way that he could use his sedation rifle on her at that height, the fall might break her damned neck. Sighing, Gregor sat down on a rock so he could look up at Jeyne. He rested the rifle in his lap and put his hands on his knees. "Talk to Nanny Gregor, Jeyne. Let me help you out, you can't live in that tree, girl. Are you still stuck in your memories, am I wasting my breath or do you hear me?"  The voice floated down to him and Gregor breathed a sigh of relief. 

"I hear you, Gregor. I am half in past, half in here." Gregor smiled and slapped his knees. "We can work with that, Jeyne! Talk to me about that, what is scaring you into running into the woods? Are you running from Bethany again, wild girl?" Jeyne's voice whipped out this time with a very bitter anger, a terrible pain that Gregor had to wince at just a bit. "Do you think I want to be feral? I didn't get a choice. Raff says I never had a choice,Unella says it and even my father said it. Why do you call me freak and blame me for what made me?"

Gregor shook his head. "I don't. I don't blame you or tease you because of what was done to you. I agree it was wrong. Bethany Bolton was quite the twisted fucked up woman. Roose was a cold son of a bitch to treat you the way he did and to allow his wife to abuse the fuck out of you. I understand that the woman turned you into a feral. Got it."pp

Gregor leaned forward and looked up, trying make sure Jeyne saw his face.

"Should I cry for you or pat your shoulder and coddle you? Should I hold you on my lap and pretend to be a better daddy for you? How is my pity going to help you, girl? I want to turn you into a person, Jeyne. I want you to defy that old dead cunt! She is dead and can't hurt you anymore. Defy her so that you can get past it and turn into everything she said you can't be! Want to be angry about what she did? Great, get pissed and I will teach you how to kick box! Want to chop wood and pretend it's that bitch's neck? We can do that! But those are things for a person, not a four legged feral. Help me prove that woman wrong, help me to make you a strong person. Someone that will make Roose regret never taking proper care of you. Want to learn real revenge, Jeyne? I will help you do that."

Gregor grinned up at the girl.

"Hell, yeah, I am going to punish you for your revenge on me and Unella. Course I am. But I'm not going to break your bones and Unella isn't going to fry your head. All of you fools forgot something. Kevan and Roose. Do you really think they would be okay with us doing that to you? Idiots, all of you."

The girl was watching him and listening, that was a good start. He gave a smile and gestured to her. "I promise there will be no revenge until after visitor's day. I swear it and the same with Unella. I'll make sure of it. Now why don't you start to come down? At least where I don't have to crane my neck!" Jeyne shook her head and then called out, "You will shoot me as soon as I get close enough to drop. Tricks." Gregor shrugged. "Depends on you. If Jeyne the feral is going to play tag in the trees all night then yes, I'll shoot you. But if Jeyne the person just climbs down, we can walk back to the dorm together. I promise." He waited and let Jeyne fight herself in silence.

Finally, Gregor heard her climbing down and waited to see if she would make it or if he would need to shoot. His fingers were tight on the rifle in his lap. Jeyne hesitated only twice before landing on the ground. Her movements were stiff and on the verge of bolting. Gregor stayed still on the rock until the girl stopped in front of him. Without a word of praise or anything more than a grunt, Gregor got up and began to head back. Jeyne walked beside him, moving in that stalking way.

To relax her, reintroduce her back into the world, he began to chat as they walked. "The Tickler made an appearance tonight. See the things you've missed?" Jeyne giggled then asked, "Was it Joff or Ramsay?" Gregor chuckled and said, "Nope. It was Damon. He attacked Sansa." Frowning, Jeyne muttered, "That isn't right. Damon is very sweet to her all the time. He does everything she says to and he needs her to teach him how to read. Damon loves her but not that way. He even was protecting her from Ramsay and Joff." Gregor sighed and heavily said, "Gods, I truly do pity Damon now, Jeyne."

Tilting her head up in a way that wasn't very person like, Jeyne asked a very human question. "Do I get bits of credit for being honest?" He chuckled and said, "Welcome back to our planet, Jeyne! So far, you have been honest with me and I am giving you credit for that. So...tell me something that will make your punishment the teensiest bit lessened. Go for it. It's worth a shot." Gregor sounded very dubious but Jeyne gave a tiny smirk.

"I got the pregnancy test from Sansa. She went into your cabin, not me. I could have done it, but Raff made me promise to never do such things. Sansa needed drugs and I know how to sneak around here. I have never stolen from there before, just this one time. I don't know why she wanted the drugs. I am sorry I stole from the pharmacy. It was wrong."

Gregor snorted and spoke with actual true grudging amusement and awe. "Sorry for stealing from the pharmacy? Not sorry for your revenge on me and Unella, though?" Jeyne looked at Gregor with honest calm eyes, shaking her head. "No. I am sorry that I am not sorry. My hair! My mind! Both of you just pulled me apart like I was a doll to play with!"

"Jeyne the feral has fear of Nanny Gregor, Jeyne the person can tell me how angry she is and why! Good! Right after your punishment and apology after visitor's day, I'll let you use that anger. Let's head for your room, I want you to go to bed and then I'm locking your door until Polliver gets you in the morning." Jeyne frowned but nodded and continued to walk with Gregor. 

 

Myranda was flanked by Bob and Harold into a small airport strip.

They sped to the first available direct flight back and spent the entire time trying to sleep. It was impossible since the plane rattled like it was falling apart. Wind blew through their hair and their stewardess kept whispering prayers through her frozen smile. One of the passengers was squeezing his chicken to death in terror and another one looked like the heart attack coming for others has already happened for him.

Myranda looked out the window once and was positive that she saw duct tape on the wing. When she told Bob, he leaned over and slammed the window shut. "Say anything like that again and I will request some of that tape for your mouth." The threat was utterly ruined when he turned greener and used the vomit bag. Myranda did go silent but she couldn't stop the smirk that painted her lips.  

Harold was whiter than a ghost and kept his eyes closed, head back. "Sweet Gods, Myranda I can feel that damned look on your face, smug little whore. Dammit, if we live through this hellish ride than you are going to pay for that. If we die, consider that the two of us will be stuck haunting with you forever. Consider the eternity." The laughter poured out of her even when they took a sharp nosedive. The shrieks of Harold and Bob gave Myranda start crying in silent hysteria, aching laugher that was painful but healing somehow. That was truly worth any punishment, Myranda can die happy with just that.

But the plane leveled out and they all survived. After a few more close calls, they landed with a dead chicken, held by a sobbing man and only one dead man. Apparently, someone had actually put the man on the plane already dead. Myranda did not wish to examine that situation.

 

Bob and Harold had bruised her arms and nearly dragged her to a rental car. Thrown in the backseat, she tried to sleep but since Harold had to drive, Bob had to stay awake to keep the driver up. So since they couldn't sleep, Myranda couldn't either. They stopped at a rest stop and Harold got them all hot coffee while Bob went to a tiny store and bought boxes of energy drinks.

Myranda had watched in a caffeine buzzed horror as Harold drove like they were in a getaway car. For half the trip, wind whipped through open windows, music was jarring and loud. Anytime she shut her eyes, Bob would reach back and whack whatever piece of her he could find. "MYRANDA! ARE YOU SLEEPING? LET'S TALK ABOUT TONIGHT? WOULD YOU RATHER DO THAT SINCE THE RIDE IS SO BORING YOU HAVE TO SLEEP! HAVE AN ENERGY DRINK, HERE YOU GO!"

Eventually, the men switched places. Harold stretched and leaned back in his seat as Bob prepared to drive. Adjusting the mirror so precisely that Harold raised his eyebrows. "Must you? Every time?" Giving a harrumph, Bob began to adjust the controls on his seat, the radio and more. "I must."

Trying not to smile or make any noise, Myranda watched the two of them with great amusement. Seeing Bob be so fussy meant at least they weren't going to drive like prisoners on the run. Relaxing a bit, she even got tears in her eyes when Bob turned off the screeching music and put on classical music. It was still a bit louder than normal, but at least it wasn't going to tense her up. She wasn't in a partying mood nor did she feel an urge to join a mosh pit. As fun as they are, Myranda is feeling quite messed up tonight, thank you very much. Harold kept sniping at Bob. Bob kept giving it right back at him, deliberately moving slower while staring at Harold. Finally, Bob started the car and pulled onto the highway. He drove normally, fast but normal and then said the wonderful words.

"Harold, Myranda, if you'd like to sleep while I drive, that's fine with me. I am perfectly awake and aware. In fact, I will be getting off the highway and taking a few shortcuts." 

This made Myranda give a grateful thanks and instantly lay her head against the window, shutting her heavy eyes. For some reason it made Harold sigh heavily and mutter, "Okay, you are being an asshole and you know it." Myranda didn't understand and didn't care, all she wanted was to fucking sleep. She sunk fast and had an amazing deep slumber for about ten full minutes. Then Bob got off the highway and Myranda understood that they were no longer driving a normal way. No, now they were driving as if they were the stunt-men for every car action film series. She found that her screams mingled with Harold's.

 

The men pretended that they weren't leaning on Myranda, who was also leaning on them, as they staggered into the house. Early light graced the sky and they were at the school one hour before anyone would stir.

Gilly did something brave. She was in her best uniform, comfortable support sneakers, white jeans with a blouse she cares for with perfection and a string of real pearls. Thick brown hair was pulled into a lovely mess of curls upon her head and brown eyes that shined with a mix of good and bad things. Myranda noted that the girl looked like Craster. She has never taken much notice of Kevan's servants. But Gilly stood in front of her, not to address Bob and Harold in a respectful robotic voice. No, the girl's voice was savage and earnest, her eyes were on Myranda's and her hands clutched the bandaged one gently. 

"My sisters told me what you did. Thank you for killing him, for saving my sisters. Thank you, Myranda, they are free, I am free because of you. Thank you." Myranda nodded and smiled, her own unwilling tears filled her eyes. She couldn't speak, her own past was such shit and those girls, she had to end that beast. Gilly looked at her in a way that Myranda knew the girl understood. That made her feel vulnerable but Gilly seemed to understand that too and let go of her hand. She then gave her brief attention to Harold and Bob. The hard look and twisted lips let Harold and Bob know how the new housekeeper felt about them.

"Sirs, Kevan awaits all of you in his office. He has just finished his breakfast." 

 

The three of them staggered into the office, horribly aware of how messed their clothes and hair were. Myranda had a rather noticeable bruise on her cheek from Harold. Kevan looked as fresh as a daisy and his smile was warm and welcoming. In his best suit, already set for the visitors that won't come for a few more hours. Kevan's hair could have come from the best city salon and his shoes twinkled in the morning sun. The gold pen twirled in his hand, the brilliant gold playing in the sun ray then flipping past manicured nails.

Kevan walked from his picture window, looking upon the main houses below of the school, the gentle hill leading to it. He stopped admiring it so he could walk to stand in front of the bad ducks and naughty duckling. His eyes fell first upon his men, his stern gaze seeming to pierce through the glasses. Both men slumped a bit and looked down. "We are sorry to have failed you, Sir. We shall make sure Myranda is very sorry to have failed you as well." Kevan looked at Bob and stood in front of him to speak softly. He leaned forward with a stately manner yet Bob seemed to give way even though he never moved. 

"Has the girl been to see Unella? I believe I asked you gentlemen to do that. Are you that angry with your charge that you no longer care about her personal well being? If that turns out to be the case here, I can reassign her...and both of you. Since the young lady is already here, we will speak now. Then my dear, you shall go straight to the doctor." Myranda cringed when the eyes fell upon her and she nodded. Kevan changed his features, they melted into a sympathetic face, his eyes melted and grew concerned. His voice became kind, it was full of compassion. This scared Myranda as bad as the plane scared her mentors. Except Myranda dare not throw up on Kevan's nice rugs.

"Dearest Myranda, I am so very sorry for what you went through tonight. I do understand that you did put forth your best effort...that you tried to offer a compromise. I was shocked to learn the ages involved, I thought the man would not...bring them all. I know very little of the processes that Harold and Bob deal with. I might need to reconsider how involved I get." Kevan's eyes went to Bob and Harold on the last sentence and his voice made sure they got the threat clearly. "Now I am clear on what your limits are, aren't I? We all understand and I promise that type of situation will never be asked of you again. Not. Ever!"

Kevan gently clasped his hands on her shoulders and drew her forward from Harold and Bob. They tensed and Myranda was nearly hyperventilating, imagining Kevan's pen driving into her eye, into her brain. He smiled so sweetly as he pulled her directly in front of him, almost close enough to kiss and that pen was resting in his front pocket. Myranda went between staring at the pen and staring up at Kevan, nearly in blind terror. Kevan watched it and seemed to drink it in, it made him glow brighter as if fear were energy.

"Such a delicate pretty clever thing you are. Sweet girl, because of that important trip, you missed your report. Average learner, average worker, just floating by. There was a question of loyalty that sadly lost some points for Hot Pie and Jeyne. And you bear those lost points as well. For not telling someone Jeyne's rather dangerous plan. I believe that is why Harold and Bob pushed you too hard this time. Perhaps, they bear half the blame for what you did. So...now we have to not only have a bit of disloyalty to have you work out, we have this. This mess you have made for us tonight."

The hands on her shoulders were massaging them but in a way that made her tense, not relax. It was as if his fingers found the wrong things, found the nerves and caressed to wake them up into uneasy buzzing. It was that feeling that just begins warning of pain. "I do understand why you killed the repulsive pig and I shall not punish you for that. However, that was a death I had to have covered up. The death of the camera man as well. Consider the cost of feeding, clothing and transporting of ten females, please? How do you plan to pay me back for all the trouble, dear? I will have you bear a third of those costs and your mentors bear the rest."

At that, Harold and Bob seemed to look at each other. Kevan smiled at them and leaned closer, looking inquisitively into Myranda's startled eyes. He spoke in a very polite voice.

Do you have enough money to pay me back, Myranda? Does your luggage even contain a fourth of the trouble I had to go through on your behalf?" In a near whisper Myranda replied, "No, Sir." Kevan firmly grasped the agitated nerves in her tired, aching shoulders and gave a small shake.

"No, Sir? Of course not. How could a student here at my school with the talents of a practiced whore and a spy in training be able to afford even a fourth of what I can? So...that means you are in my debt, aren't you? That means you owe me a very large favor, it means you will be here until you have worked off your debt. Only then can we discuss your prospects as a mistress or married woman. That alone is sufficient for a punishment from me, I would think. I shall leave further discipline up to Harold and Bob. Myranda, if your mentors aren't working for you anymore, please let me know. I would hate to change mentors on you since you have worked so well with Harold and Bob, but if we must, we must. Of course, that would change things drastically for you. We have no other...unique mentors like our fine twins, the others do not travel much. I would hope you have another hidden talent we can find."

Myranda paled at the threat delivered in a choking compassion and she shook her head fast. "Please, Sir! I like my mentors. I'm sorry, I'm very sorry that I cost you trouble. I will be more loyal, I will pay my debt to you no matter how long it takes, Sir." Kevan stared at the girl until she looked as if she might faint and then her relaxed his grip upon her.

"Poor thing, it's all been too much on you. So tired, ragged, sore and shaking like a little baby, an abused one. Good grief, you like so terrified, as if I'd kill you! I only get rid of useless things, dear. And it is pretty interesting what I can find use for sometimes we just have to dig deeply. With you, we were lucky, it was clear you were made for certain talents. I want you to continue to use those talents for me. I forgive a bad mistake, I forgive such a trauma filled rash act. I won't forgive the next one. I will decide that is not your talent anymore. Then you are useless. Don't ever be that, Myranda. Go to your room and I will send Unella to you, the clinic is temporarily closed. For today, you may stay in your room, eat in the kitchen and avoid the visitors. It would be an idea to get some sleep, your eyes look awful."

Kevan released the girl and watched how she stared at him, then her mentors, then Kevan again. Softly, he spoke. "Dismissed, darling student. Go now to your room." Myranda gasped and ran as fast as she could. Kevan watched out the window as the girl staggered all the way down the slight hill with a small grin.

It was wiped away when he turned back to Bob and Harold.

Chapter Text

Polliver whacked his baton on the door a full half hour before normal. Arya leaped up and Joff just moaned and complained before rolling over in his bed across the room. "Go get that, it's probably them telling you that your sister died or something." Whipping his own sneaker at him as she went by his jumble of laundry. Arya went to answer the door.

"Happy morning, Target! Want to visit your sister before our day starts, this is the time. She is setting up her new room, one door over from her original room. Don't worry, Oscar looks far worse than she feels. For now at least."

There was some tight anger in Polliver's voice that made Arya look up at him and then her stomach dropped. She knew Sansa well enough now and she closed her eyes for a second, going still. The baton lightly prodded at her back and she staggered forward.  Polliver opened the door and shoved Arya inside, slamming it shut behind her. Sansa was setting up her dresser with her uniforms and gave Arya a quick smile, the best she could under the gruesome bruises. Arya sighed and then muttered, "You look like shit. Mother and Father should be whisking us out of here today, why bother asking for a room of your own?"

Sansa shook her head. "No. That is exactly what I don't want. I want to stay here, have my room and have Kevan as my personal mentor. I want to be as far out of our mother's grip as we can get." Snorting, Arya muttered, "We? It hasn't been we in a long time, if ever, Oscar." Glaring at her little sister, Sansa snapped, "Do not call me that when we are alone. Use my name. And yes, I know we don't hang out much anymore but it's not like we are synced together in here. Besides, you need to be with your own peers, me with my own. Listen, I know you want to scream about the injustices here to our parents but I am asking that you don't. I am asking that you join me in the same story about my face."

Arya stood with her mouth open then snapped it shut, her eyes full of fury. "I knew it! I knew that poor dummy was tricked by you! Oh my gods! He was dragged off by that fucking THING! That Tickler got him because of you! Why would you do that? For a room and a mentor? How could you be so fucking mean? Just like mother...you should want to go home to her, you are just like her." Sansa advanced on her sister, who warily backed up then got into a defensive position.

"I am nothing like our mother! Don't you ever compare us, not ever! Do you understand what happens if I go home to her? She forces me to marry a man who likes little boys, to breed with him like cattle, to rule my life. And I won't let her so I die, it's that simple, Arya. And then who is left for her to go after and plan for? Why, little Arya, of course! Walder Frey likes to marry young girls and I know that he has asked for you in exchange for a deal. Mother said no...but she said it was because you were still too young. For now, Arya. We won't agree with what mother wants and what happens when that happens? Jon ran and Rickon fought her, where are they now?" 

Arya glared at her sister but as always, the fear of their mother controlling their fate was her weakness. She hated that Sansa knew exactly how to pull at her, using strings of fear and need. "Why did you set up Damon for rape of all things, if you didn't want mother to rip us out of here?" With a glare, Sansa frowned and sat on her bed. "I fucked up, okay? Didn't think it through, I guess. I was hoping if Kevan got nervous about the rape, he would give me anything I wanted. I guess in that respect, I did get what I wanted but...I am still going to be punished for what I did. And I have to face poor Damon and apologize to him. I didn't believe the Tickler was real!" 

With a jerk of her head, Arya looked out of the window. "So you made a mistake, got in trouble, got what you wanted and all is well? No. I know you. That was too much to go through for such a small goal. I don't think I want to know what your games are anymore. I'm not going to be your Damon anymore, Sansa. I can find other ways to get away from mother. Better than trusting you or staying here. If I tell her you were raped, tell her all that happens here, she will take me out." Before Arya could gasp in surprise, Sansa was in her face. "She will take you out, alright. As soon as you try and run away or fight her, you are dead. This isn't something you don't already know, Arya. Here you are at least safe from her until better chances come along. Remember our brothers, think of how they looked when-"

Arya cried out and wrenched away, striking at Sansa's sore cheek. Sansa cried out and moved back. "Ow! Bitch!" Wiping tears away, Arya tried to head for Sansa's door but her sister grabbed her arm. "Listen to me! This isn't just for me, no matter what you think! I care and am trying to keep us both alive!" "You swore to never mention about what happened! Liar!" Sansa forced her sister into a tight hug.

"Sorry, I'm sorry. Please, we can't go back there...you need to help me out. You need to listen to me and let Kevan help shield us from mother. The only way to keep out of her grasp is to be in a stronger person's clutches. At least for right now. And Lannisters are the only ones with that kind of power. Kevan asked me to talk with you personally...if you don't agree with us about my face..." Arya squirmed until her sister released her.

"Fine. You win, are you happy? I will go along with whatever stupid story you have made up. Better here than at home anyway. But I meant what I said, I am not Damon. I am not going along with any of your schemes ever again. What you did to that poor dumb kid is just horrible and you are disgusting. Tell me what I need to say and let me get away from you."

 

Damon had been transferred to the clinic as soon as Sansa vacated it. Unella had him sedated and in a bed, every now and then he cried out in a troubled sleep. It was uncertain if the boy would be well enough to join the others during visitor time.

Kevan had tried to visit him just as he went into the clinic and Damon sobbed all over him. The poor child kept telling the story but claiming the blame for it all even as he begged the Tickler not to come back. Kevan tried to assure the boy that there would be no further interaction with the Tickler. "Dear boy, the only thing you are really to blame for is taking a drug from a student instead of your nurse." The mere thought that Sansa would receive blame rather than Damon, sent the boy back into hysterics.  

Raff was grumpy that he had to be up extra early to set up medications and bring them to the school. Like Polliver and Gregor, he has been up all night searching for Jeyne. Gregor didn't tell a soul except Unella and Kevan that he found the girl and she was in her room. He let Polliver and Raff continue searching through the night uselessly. Just for Polliver to receive a text at dawn from Hot Pie saying that there was snoring from behind Jeyne's locked door. The only reason they even found out then was because Hot Pie finally was sent to get an hour of sleep before he had to set up for breakfast.

Sandor spent most of his night with Damon along with Unella. Most of the staff looked more like zombies in the early light than school workers.

 

Hot Pie was half awake, nearly scrambling his own head along with the eggs. Jeyne showed up to do her job, plus Myranda's, since the girl was sleeping. The girl received a lecture from her friend that she completely ignored. Only Tyrion and Stannis seemed fresh and awake during breakfast. They looked with sadness at the runny eggs and overcooked home fries but said nothing. The poor cook seemed to be half asleep over bacon, close to sizzling himself.

As the professors headed towards the staff section where they saw the others half dozing, Stannis said softly, "Perhaps we should have helped last night instead of hiding in our cabins." Tyrion gave his friend a bright smile with no guilt and responded, "We heard them talking last night. Did you really wish to spend your night hunting down a triggered feral girl? What luck would we have really had? As for that poor soul, Damon, what could we have done for him? We aren't trained in the right way to assist something like that."

Stannis shrugged. "Sandor isn't either but he went to help the poor boy." Tyrion beamed. "Exactly! Others were already tending to him and to Jeyne. And Sansa was with a doctor and a therapist, none of those things involved us. We would have been a hindrance, not a help."

During breakfast, the professors heard the truth of Sansa and Damon. Stannis looked horrified but Tyrion only grinned. "I knew it! That boy wouldn't do such a thing. I admire the girl, very much like her mother. She reminds me of Cersei a bit too. Sansa has her eye on a large prize, I just wish I knew what it was. Or rather...maybe I don't. Those type of women are dangerous and terrifying to be honest. So..the girl has her room and Kevan himself to be her mentor along with myself. Very clever of her. Now, what kind of story are we to tell her family?" Clearing his throat, Gregor laid out what was to be said.

Sandor gave a look of disgust to his eggs and threw his fork down. "Don't any of you have a fucking conscience? That boy was truly fucked up by what Sansa did, by Tickler and none of you even blink over it! Instead, let's talk about how we can help the bitch who just used some poor retarded kid!" He shoved his chair back and stormed away. The others were too tired to care and Tyrion only shrugged and ate a muffin that was slightly singed on the bottom. Stannis looked bothered but said nothing. 

 

The student table was full of it's own dissension. Sansa had calmly and coldly explained to the kids at the table what they will say about her cheek. She had removed the sling and was already forcing her arm back into good use. There was no way to hide her face. Arya said that she would be lying for her sister. Loras readily agreed to it, Jeyne and Hot Pie simply shrugged. No one would ask them anything about the ginger girl. It wasn't their concern and they did not join the ensuing argument.

Joff and Arya began to battle. "Oh my gods, what a fucking traitor! You bitch about your sister, how she used you and here you are doing it again! We promised each other that we would tell our parents what a hellish place this is! Then we can get out of here, it's so fucking simple! Why are you helping her? What will she ever do for you? I won't help you, I am telling my mother everything!" Arya glared at Joff and yelled back. "Princess Douche bag! My mother is worse than yours, okay? It's...not safe for me and Oscar to go home right now. I don't care what you tell your mother!"

Ramsay stared at Sansa, he had deliberately sat across from her. "Are we all going to ignore what you've done? Are you going to pretend still that Damon raped and beat you up? Lie to your family about it but keep the lie going here?" Sansa smiled tightly at Ramsay and responded very calmly. "No. I was caught and I admit what I've done. I set up Damon, hoping to use that as a way to get something." Ramsay remained placid but simmering deep down and his voice was as calm as hers. "Did you get the something you wanted? Was it worth it, what you did to Damon? Because whatever YOU got...Damon got the Tickler. Because of you."

"I did get what I wanted, at least I think so. But I was also caught and will get a punishment after visitors day ends. Until then, we will pretend it didn't happen for the sake of the parents. Then I will pay for what I've done and I will apologize to Damon, try to make it up to him. He's okay, just in the clinic now...Gregor and Sandor stopped Tickler before he got too far. I really do regret having to use him though." Ramsay's eyes darkened and his hand tightened on his butter knife then waved it around.

"Oh, you regret it? That's awful nice of you, gingercunt. Tell you what, I don't think you regret it enough. I don't think any punishment staff would give you is enough. I am not helping you, no, I will tell my father every fucking detail of what you've done. Of this entire fucking hellhole. And if that doesn't help, if no one believes me or Joff...that's okay, it is perfectly fine. Because I am going to punish you myself for what you've done to my friend. I am going to get you, Oscar. And you will never know when it's coming or what I might do. Solemn promise though, I am coming for you."

Ramsay pointed the silver utensil at Sansa and gave a creepy smirk. "Consider yourself wearing a black spot. What you did to one of your own classmates..isn't acceptable. Does anyone here at this table think that Oscar setting up Sidebitch for rape and for the Tickler was okay?" Everyone including Arya gave a shake of their head. Even Loras looked upset about it and he spoke next.

"What Oscar did to Damon was terrible. And she deserves whatever punishment staff gives her. It's not up to us to punish or judge what she did or why. We can offer support to Damon. But I agree we should hide what goes on here from the visitors. Think of something..they threw us in here...they don't get any say over us in here. They have no way of knowing what happens unless we tell them. They don't deserve to know what we are up to, they don't deserve our consideration...after all, if they truly cared...would any of us be in here?" 

Ramsay shrugged. "I don't care. I am telling my father everything. Joff will tell his mother and Theon will back up what we say if need be." Theon shrugged but gave a half hearted nod. Then Ramsay looked back at Sansa with that same smirk. "Just remember....I'm going to get you for Damon. And when I do...you better start praying the Tickler shows. Because I will do way worse to you than that monster could ever do."

Chapter Text

Jeyne was trying to figure out what to wear on her head when there was a knock at her door. Polliver followed the quick knock with opening the door and grinning at her. "Kevan wants you up at the house. Head up there, right now."

He surveyed the awkward girl in her pressed, sparkling white blouse, creased pants and polished shoes. Giving a quick approving nod, Polliver spoke.

"Well, here is an improvement. Very nice job on your outfit, girl. What's up with all those hats? Where did you even get most of those things? That one looks like the one Sandor wears when he paints...it is, isn't it? Guess you will be bringing that back, won't you? Let's see...how about this one, try it on. No, not unless you are going skiing. That one is very pretty, but when will you get the summer bikini to go with it? Give it back to Whore. She gave it to you? Then keep it and hope for a bikini and a beach. How about this, perfect! Look a nice summer cap and it's all white. Perfect, now head up to Kevan's." 

She stalked up to Kevan's house then timidly entered the lobby, her bravado at being Jeyne The Person fading a little. Gilly came in and smiled nicely at the cringing girl. "Hello, are you Jeyne? Kevan is waiting for you in his study. I'll take you there." Jeyne followed silently as the maid led her to the study. Gilly opened the door for Jeyne who slipped past her nervously. As soon as Jeyne entered the room fully, Gilly shut the door quietly.

Kevan was sitting behind his desk and stood up when the girl entered. Twirling his pen, Kevan smiled and gestured for Jeyne to come forward as he slowly came around the desk. Sitting upon the front of his desk, he waited while Jeyne tried to walk like a Person to the chair and calmly sit down. Once she was seated, Kevan leaned forward slightly.

"Dear Jeyne, don't look so nervous. I did not call you in here because of any trouble or behavior issues. Today, your father will be coming to our school. He will be expecting to see you serving, helping out Hot Pie. I expect he will speak with you in private while he is visiting here. But unless Roose wishes to speak to you, his rules with you remain the same, darling. You must be silent and pretend you don't know him unless he wishes otherwise."

Jeyne nodded. Then she turned her eyes up to Kevan, confused. "Sir, if my father is visiting here but not for me...who is he seeing?" Kevan gave a pleasant smile to her but inwardly winced.

"I am sorry, dear. Roose is here to see his son, Ramsay. Jeyne, Ramsay doesn't know you are his half sister. Also, Roose will check up on your other half brother, Damon. Truly, your father has not told either boy of you...remember when your father would hide you away when his other son would visit? This is that other son. Ramsay. Roose only discovered Damon a few years back, I think. Roose must have felt generous, allowing Ramsay and Damon to meet, to be together. Today your father plans on revealing the truth to Ramsay about you. I would advise you not to approach Ramsay on this. Are you alright, dear? It's a big thing to take in, I know. But you must not speak to your father, you must say nothing to Ramsay or Damon until Roose does. Do you feel up to this, Jeyne?" 

Jeyne the Feral wanted to burst out of the chair and hide in the woods until the day ended. But Jeyne the Person nodded and attempted a smile. Kevan gave a look of sympathetic approval. "Good girl. I knew I could depend on you. I must say, you look very well put together, dear. Even the hat works perfectly. I am impressed."

When Jeyne headed out the door on stalking tight legs, she was struggling not to run. Raff was lounging on Kevan's porch and Jeyne walked right up to him.

"My father is here today for two half brothers. He let them meet and live together. Be friends. I never met them, never got to. He visits for them. I have to pretend father is a stranger then see him in secret. I hate him. I hate Ramsay. Hate them both. I can't hate Damon but I want to." Raff squeezed her hand tightly and whispered, "Roose is a cold prick who doesn't deserve a daughter like you anyway. Who cares about him or his other kids? Clearly, he sucks as a dad all the way around. Right?"

Jeyne stared at Raff then said, "You are standing close. Just grabbed my hand. Why? You are always very careful, everyone is careful." Shrugging, Raff responded, "Must be because you seem more person than feral today. Huh. Let me walk you back, we can chat about how today should go." Letting go of her hand, Raff started walking down the hill, Jeyne next to him.

Casting a side glance at the girl, Raff took a deep breath and spoke in a soft voice. "I'm sorry about the chains. I messed up because I was angry at you for your revenge plan. It was wrong of me to not think of what would trigger you. Do you forgive me, Jeynie?" Raff smiled and began to lightly nudge into her arm as they walked. Jeyne giggled and nodded. "Yes, I forgive you."

 

Polliver walked the line of ducklings, the new ones only. Twirling his baton, he intoned, "One day. I give you one day of no nicknames. One day to be loved, hugged and coddled. One day that I won't tell your parents that I think the best thing we can do for all of you is give you to Tickler for dinner. In return I expect one day without pranks, rule breaking and without mouths that runneth over. Can we make this deal, ducklings?"

Unella went over each student with the sharpest gaze and all but Sansa and Loras were given adjustments. She gave them all a last once over while Polliver made them all roll their eyes by going over the rules of good behavior just one last time. Raff and Gregor stood nearby, keeping an eye on Jeyne who was helping Piggy set out tables for refreshments. "Think she'll make it through today without running away or trying to eat her father's face off?" Gregor snorted and looked down at Raff. "You are the damned therapist. But yeah, I think today she can do it. As of tomorrow, Ramsay might be on borrowed time if he fucks with her."

Raff glared up at Gregor. "You are the one last night who challenged her to be a person, not a feral and now she thinks she's both! This morning I met the Jeyne the Person but she is afraid of being the feral again. Plus Polliver won't change the nickname until he sees her act this way for at least a month. She is under a lot of pressure right now. If she explodes while visitors are here...Kevan will kill us." With a chuckle, Gregor patted Raff's lovely hair as the man pulled away with a shiver. "No, Heathers, it will be you that Kevan will kill. You are responsible for her, her mentor and therapist, not me."  With a hiss, Raff spat out, "Don't ever call me that! You can't call me that anymore!" He moved away as Gregor laughed.

Harold and Bob flanked Kevan as he came down the stairs to speak to the children. Both of Kevan's men were dressed sharply as always but a close examination could show how they fought not to sag. Joff whispered to Arya that they looked like deflating human balloons and both earned a baton whack for giggling. Polliver leaned down and commented, "If you think sleep deprivation looks so funny, I'm make sure you two can have some sleep loss, see how funny you find it." 

"My lovely students, what an amazing day! Its great weather and your families are coming for a small visit. They will not only spend some time with you but they can meet your teachers, counselors and you can show them your rooms, the school. Eat with them, walk with them and speak, hug and we shall spend time with them also. Telling them of your achievements or lack of them. So enjoy yourselves but please remember, it is only a visit. They leave and you do not. And I will be carefully monitoring everyone, the safety and comfort of my students is very important. Even more important is that our visitors feel that they are comfortable. I am sure you all will strive to show your best behaviors today."

Unella cast an eye around nervously then sidled up to Gregor. "Where the hell are Tyrion and Stannis?" Sighing deeply, Gregor stared down at Unella. "Why does everyone think I have all the answers today? Do I look like a fucking oracle?" Unella stared without saying a word and finally the man spoke. "If I tell you that they are watching from a distance with binoculars will you stop staring at me?" She crossed her arms and just stood there, looking around at nothing. "I refuse to deal with this. I have the students groomed and ready. I am not chasing down grown men acting like children!"

 

"Sirs? Here you go, enjoy." Tyrion and Stannis took the drinks from Hot Pie and thanked him kindly. Smiling, the boy nodded and walked across roof of the kitchen house, inside the small door and down the stairs. "He will do fine here, I think. Notice that he never even asked us why we wanted drinks up here. He just nodded and made the drinks while we set up our chairs."

Stannis sipped the lemonade in pure bliss before responding. "I carried and set up the chairs. You asked Hot Pie for the drinks. That isn't part of his job, he could have said no. He is a fine lad. This lemonade is better than mine or yours. I can taste the lemon tree itself, I taste the sugar cane freshly sliced. I am in love with this lemonade and shall find a way to bribe the boy to make more." Tyrion peered into the lemonade glass then up at Stannis's blissful face. With hope and some trepidation, Tyrion sipped his own drink.

Tyrion sat heavily in the chair and sagged, moaning, sipping. "This is....gods...Stannis...we shall chain him in my cabin. He can be our personal bartender, we can report him as missing." Stannis cracked a small smile and observed, "He did not return your bottle of vodka. Probably kept the rest for a reward." Tyrion shook his head, "No, I think the bottle is here in this glass, at least in spirit. Don't frown again, dear Sir. I NEED this. My sister is coming, all the demons are coming today. Ready those binoculars, look, I see that huge dust cloud! Here they come!"

Both leaned forward, bringing their binoculars to their eyes, still savoring their drinks on their tongues.

"It looks like a funeral procession. All black limousines and black fancy cars. It's been years since we've had this many rich assholes here all at once. Kevan must be dying to jerk off on every glittery one of them." "Good god, Sir! That drink clearly is far too strong for you. I hope you don't speak that way to the visitors!" Tyrion cackled for a moment. "Can you imagine Olenna's face?" Stannis shook his head and enjoyed his lemonade as the cars parked and their guests got out.

"Still looks like they are coming to a funeral, or maybe they have just come from an Edgar Allen Poe reading. They look like a murder of crows heading for the children." "That is very morbid thought. Thank you for that, Tyrion. Wait, Olenna isn't in black, she is...colorful to say the least and somewhat glittery from here. Elderly Tinkerbell." With a cutting smile, Tyrion looked over at Stannis. "Let me assure you that she is no gentle fairy. That rainbow wrapped and diamond soaked old prune owned her husbands and then owned everything my family didn't. She would eat you alive just for fun, dear Stannis."

"Ah, I see your sister, she looks different somehow. Oh, her hair is all gone." Tyrion almost choked on his drink, grabbing for his binoculars. "What? Stannis, I thought you meant the woman was bald! I almost spilled some of that special drink over a bad haircut! Damn you, Sir! A pox upon you. May all the lemon trees fall in a storm!" Stannis frowned. "That is a rather harsh thing to say."

Tyrion sighed. "I am sorry, that was going too far. I take it back. May you get a foot fungus. Now, why does my sister have such short hair? She was rather proud of that long gold mane, her face is harder than ever. I want to hope it's grief over my poor dead niece and nephew. The only redeeming thing about Cersei is that she truly deeply loves her children. It is the only good thing I'd ever say of her, it is sad that I can't say that anymore. I have her last child here and it's clear that she failed with him too. And my job is to tell her that." He took another large sip of his drink. 

Stannis looked at Cersei, the black dress she wore was designer brand and tasteful, a slight suggestion of seduction to it. Her black high heels were so tall and thin yet something about them looked like weapons. A complete contrast to Cat Stark who walked up to the woman to shake her hand, both exchanging smiles so cold and polite that it made the professors wince. "Ouch. That was painful to watch. Do you think it's strange for them to come back here? I don't think being here together is going to mend any fences for those two. Have to admit, it would be fun to watch them have a mean girl fight."

Stannis stared at Tyrion then tried to take away his glass.

"Sir, somethings will destroy our friendship irreparably! Like stealing my manna from heaven! Give me my glass back or I swear to piss in every pitcher of lemonade I ever come across!" Pursed lips and censoring eyes, Stannis returned the drink and went back to watching the arrivals. "There is Ned and his son Robb. Dressed like pallbearers. Oh, wait, they are going to a funeral after this! Petyr's wife died, remember? That explains the black on the Starks, at least. Your sister is probably in black out of mourning for her children and husband."

Tyrion waved a hand dismissively. "If Cersei was wearing something to honor her dead husband, she would be wearing a dress made from his skin with his penis as a necklace. No, the dress is for her dead children and to protest Joff being taken from her. As for Cat...funeral or not, last time I saw her she was going through a fashion period that I like to call Pioneer Gangster Woman, I see it has changed. Now she is in her Victorian Black Widow look. A black lace collar buttoned to her throat, every inch of her covered, how is the woman not keeling over under the sun?"

"Here is Roose Bolton, that repulsive lizard." Tyrion grinned at Stannis tight voice. "Ah, yes, Father of Year has arrived. He looks like the specter of death trying to decide who to take first. Look how Ned and Robb try so hard to look like they aren't disgusted by the man. It must suck having to call on him to take care of their dirty business. At least Roose acknowledges one of his children publicly, we can give him that at least." Stannis glared at the man with a stern, indignant look. "What he did to Jeyne, what he let Bethany do to her...and Domeric, that poor boy...such potential, the only normal child Roose ever produced." Tyrion sighed, "How Bethany and Roose ended up with a kindhearted boy is a miracle. Sadly, that isn't a family that deals in emotions and morals. He was dead from the day he was born."

Tyrion watched Cat collect her men, rescuing them from Roose. Olenna came thumping forward on a sliver cane with crystal grip. "In the sun, that old crone is a brilliant gem among coal. However, once her mouth opens, she is just like the rest of them, just a bit blunter, but never underestimate that woman, dear Sir, trust me." Grimly Stannis finished his drink. "I trust none of them, Tyrion. I trust you and myself. Now, finish your drink and let's make sure you are dressed properly. We must go meet the concerned family members. We must try and find words that cast our worst students in the best light possible. That will be very hard with Joff." Tyrion groaned. "Don't remind me." "Good god, Sir! Where is your tie and your comb?"

 

Chapter Text

Kevan always loves his rituals, always bemoaned that politics wasn't for him but for his brother. However, what he loves even more than speeches and rituals is former students. They never understand the grip he had in their hearts deep down. As soon as they enter, no matter how they were dressed, no matter their status now, it drops when they enter. The true person flashes forth and their childhood surges upwards as if the mere place transforms them.

It was amazing to see the two chilly women enter then go side by side as Kevan began to speak. They didn't look at each other but the longer he spoke the more they started to smirk, to make small comments and finally, there it was. The side glances to each other and Kevan smiled brighter. He could almost see Bethany standing with them. Roose suddenly developed a slight lean to his body that wasn't there before he entered. He sneered at the two women, something he wouldn't dare to do in any public situation.

This transformation also happens to former staff. Which is why Olenna's many ringed gnarled knuckles rapped overly large jewels into the women's hands when they were too loud. Kevan became utterly expansive at this point, in sheer joy. Robb and Ned stood like oak trees but their eyes blazed with impatience. He never had a chance to have these two in his school, as staff or student. It was no loss, they weren't the type for this school anyway. Strong men can be found anywhere.

Finally, Kevan introduced the staff and let the them loose. The most dignified stampede headed straight for the children all standing in a line. It was such an imposing sight that he noted the children all paled and stepped back a little. A sudden soft snore next to his right shoulder caused Kevan to frown.

"Harold, did I just hear Bob snore?"

 

Olenna sat down at a small table, across from Loras. "Well, now let's look at you and survey the damage, young man." Loras smiled as the old but sharp eyes took all of him in. Loras sat calmly through this, used to her tactics. His smile was genuine, he had no idea how much he's missed her until just now. Which was funny because those last few weeks before the accident, he despised her. "Do I pass your inspection?"

The eyes flew up to his then widened in horror and a trembling bejeweled finger pointed forth. "What...what are those things perched upon your nose?"

"My glasses. No eye contacts are allowed here. I like them actually, thin gold frames seem to suit me. If you think this is bad, you should see poor Arya's glasses. She was given these large, eighties large, pair of violet frame glasses. She will only wear them at school."

Leaning back, folding her hands upon the table, Olenna narrowed her eyes. "And your hair, Loras? Are you running for office or have you decided to join a ministry? Where is that long styled, fashionable mop I have grown so used to?" Shrugging, Loras responded, "I cut it off or rather, Stannis cut it off for me. We don't have styling products in here and it kept getting in my face. I looked silly with a ponytail."

"You could have tried one of those man bun things I have recently seen men wearing. Of course, that would have prompted me to violence."

Loras laughed and offered to get his grandmother a pastry. She declined but then a young man appeared before them silently. "Good gods, are you here to whisk me off to my eternal rest? Because that is what happens when you sneak up upon the elderly, young man! What are you peddling?" Hot Pie smiled and set a small tray of plates before her. "Sorry, Mrs. Tyrell. I wanted to offer you a small sampling of treats. Not pastries. I made this cheese myself, baked the crackers and bought the figs from a specialty store. I hope you enjoy this. Have a wonderful day." 

By the time Olenna surveyed the small dishes, the boy was gone. Loras waved his hand and smiled. "Hot Pie is our cook here. He is truly amazing, try the food." Olenna was wary and declared, "If this poisons me and I die, nothing goes to you, I leave every cent, every brick and every single one of my episodes of Breaking Bad to a free range chicken farm."  Olenna took a small bit of cheese on the cracker and that was that last she took notice of her grandson. At least until she finished every single cracker and fig, the last of the cheese scraped out of it's bowl. "I shall kidnap that boy and chain him to my kitchen, Loras. Tell me, where do they keep the tasers in here?"

Loras walked with his grandmother so she could meet Stannis and Tyrion. "I know they have a bad reputation out there, grandmother, but in here...I really respect both of them. They have gone through great lengths to get me anything I wanted or needed for academics, once they saw that I meant to learn. I mean, what else can I do while I'm here? Meditate and appreciate nature? That only gets me so far...so I have decided to let Stannis mentor me. Find my talent."

Olenna nodded and thumped her cane into the dirt. "So from party boy to the scholar? There is a leap that I find quite stunning. I like it. Let's see where that takes you, dear boy." Loras took his grandmother's arm and began to tell her of the calender project as they headed for the teachers.

 

Cersei barely managed to hug her son before he bounced about her like a demented puppy. He had so much to say that he was tripping over his own words and kept clutching at her. Finally, she got Joff to take a breath. "Son, I cannot understand you. Mother is here for you and I want to hear everything you say. Take a very deep breath and then try again. I will wait and I promise to listen. Now...ready? Deep breath. And now, speak slowly."

 Joff started talking at normal speed then it wound it's way into cocaine fueled chipmunk. Cersei caught enough of it however. "Uncle Tyrion slaps me, him and Stannis throw things at me, call me insulting names all the time! They make me room with a girl, with Arya fucking Stark, mother! And..and Damon rooms with Sansa, he raped her, beat her face in and raped her. Before that, he dislocated her shoulder! This place isn't safe, mom, some lunatic called the Tickler dragged him out screaming, right past us! I want to get out of here before I get killed! They hate me here!"

Eyes glowed and Cersei grew twenty sizes bigger and Joff smiled now. He followed happily as she headed for her brother, the first family member that she saw.  Tyrion was well shielded under Hot Pie's drink, just enough to buzz, not enough to weave. With a pleasant smile, Tyrion beckoned his sister into his office then slammed the door in Joff's face. He twisted the lock shut just as Joff began to try and bang on the door. Tyrion walked to his desk and Cersei slammed her hands down upon it, glaring down at her brother.

"He is your nephew! Your own blood and instead of showing compassion, you strike him, degrade him by calling him names! Still a nasty drunk troll, I see. Nothing has changed for you, has it?" Tyrion offered a pleasant smile and blunt words.

"The last thing that boy needs is my compassion. He is still the same sniveling brat that you've turned him into, dear. And he learns nothing so I cannot give a glowing report of his academics. He sleeps through classes or play pranks with Arya. He skips class whenever he feels he can get away it. Stannis will only give you more of the same. Joff attends detention the way other kids attend after school activities. But here is the good news, Cersei. Here is what did change for him. Since Joff has been here, he has not mutilated, raped or killed any living creature. He has learned some restraint and has discovered there are bigger, meaner things than himself. If he stays here, Joff might settle down more. Might get a mentor, find a talent." 

Cersei snarled but sat down across from her brother. "And what of these other things he says? Boys and girls rooming together? That old dried up cunt Olenna would have never allowed that to happen in my days here. I also heard that Sansa was attacked, raped. I saw the unsightly bruise on that little prude's face. Is it all true? The boy was taken by Tickler in front of my son?" Tyrion shrugged and smiled. "What a lesson that would be for Joff, don't you think? Not what actually happened though. Anyways, concerning the rooming, that wasn't my call. That was the counselor, Polliver. Joff can lead you right to him."  Cersei raised an eyebrow and leaned a little closer to her hated brother. "What did happen to Sansa, Joff can't be totally lying, I saw her face. What happened?"

Tyrion winced and leaned forward. "What happened to that girl is nothing compared to what happened to poor Damon."

 

"It was the silliest thing, Mother. If you look behind that row of sheds, you'll see the dirt bikes. Well, it turns out it's certainly not going to be my talent to be a professional dirt bike rider. Got confused between the break and gas. To the joy of the students and the dismay of the counselors, I went right over the handle bars and landed face first. Took out my face and my shoulder. I'm just glad I had a helmet on." Cat's icy eyes and Ned's concerned ones clashed with Sansa's calm ones.  

Arya watched from the safety of her brothers for what small protection it was worth. Sansa had urged Arya to greet the family first and Arya truly did miss them. So she had gone first and received the chilling kiss of her mother. Cat gave kisses the way a bird pecks it's prey to death. Or the way a vampire eats a necessary meal. A slant of the head and a quick downward peck. The dry lips hit fast and leave before you can feel the tiny freezing wound of it.

"You look well, Arya." "Thank you, mother. I am fine." The ritual was completed and Arya was free to launch herself into a bear hug from her father. A tight enveloping squeeze and gruff words full of love. "I've missed you, Radio. I hate wandering around wishing for my girl to babble at me." Tears in her eyes, Arya started to try and talk to her father. That is when he noticed Sansa greeting her mother, who could not kiss a bruised cheek. Arya nearly fell over when Ned shoved her aside to race next to his wife, to see their bruised beauty.

Before Arya could really get upset over it, Robb was hugging her. Bran rolled up in his new electric chair and accepted a kiss from his sister. "Have you guys missed me too?" Robb rolled his eyes. "I miss not being able to find the remote control. I miss hearing your strange music pounding into my innocent ears. I miss someone messing with my stuff. Yeah, it sucks with you being gone." He laughed when she hit his arm.

Bran smiled. "It's too quiet now at the house. It's great at first to not have girls everywhere...but now it's lonely. And I have no one to tease or prank. Robb is way too busy for me to torment him. And no one else eats the same kind of snacks that you did. It sucks. Can you come home soon? Have you been doing okay here? I have heard stories...this place might be bad."

Arya screamed in her head and smiled at her concerned brother. "No, it's fine here." Robb tilted his head towards Sansa and asked, "What the hell happened to Sansa's face?" Forcing a giggled, Arya leaped into Bran's lap. "You will be jealous that you both missed it. She tried to ride a dirt bike and face-planted! Now give me a ride in this thing, Bran. How fast can you go?"

 

Ramsay and Roose gave each other the same smirk, the same fire and ice glare while they sat across from each other at a small table. Roose kept his voice soft and smooth, without emotion as always. Ramsay had a voice that was more a sarcastic version of his father's but he didn't care who heard him speak. "How are you, Ramsay? Have you changed any while you've rested here?" Ramsay tilted his head. "Rested? Is that what I am doing? Is that what you did when you were a student here, you...rested? Huh. I don't think we have the same meaning of rested."

Roose looked at Ramsay as if he was a slug that just slid across his pastry. "Compared to prison, this is a restful place." Ramsay gave a small laugh. "True, father, very true. Wouldn't want me to be subjected to prison rape. Hey, speaking of rape...do you know that Sansa Stark set up Damon for rape? He got dragged off by the fucking Tickler, father! Did you ever have the fucking terror of seeing the man? We did and Damon hasn't been seen since. Just saying. Now let me tell you of this fucked up place and..." He watched with hard eyes as his father stood up and began to walk towards Kevan.

Ramsay got up to follow and grabbed Theon's wrist. "Come on, this is our chance to find out how Damon is! Then we can tell father whatever we can to get the hell out of here!" Theon sighed but followed. He had sat there like a lump, only to be looked at once by Roose, who then snapped, "I hope to hear from the staff that you are worth what is being payed for you." Theon had felt himself turn red but the man only spoke with Ramsay after that. He knew better than to argue with Ramsay about being left out of a family issue. Once Ramsay got going, it was pointless, dangerous even, to try and change his course.

Kevan gave Roose the most expansive smile that twinkled in the bright sun. "Ah, Roose Bolton! How far you have come since being a student here. And how far you have come to visit your son, another student here! You look perturbed, Roose. Is something wrong?" Roose gave the thinnest of smiles and his voice was full of polite courtesy. "Hello, Kevan. I have noticed Damon is missing. And my son is telling me the most interesting stories, concerning Damon and Sansa. Where is Damon? I would like to see him immediately."

The smile didn't change in the least. "Of course you may see Damon. He is in the clinic, he isn't feeling very well these days. Thanks to your son and Joff. They got into some rather strong drugs and convinced Damon to take them as well. Sadly, his trip was quite bad and they kept pretending to be Tickler, scaring the boy half to death. We had to restrain the poor boy all last night but he is much better today. Resting and unable to handle the stress of this day. But I will be happy to take you to the clinic. Unella is an excellent doctor and Raff is a therapist that is quite fond of the boy. They have given him excellent care."

Ramsay glared at Kevan then implored his father. "That is entirely untrue! He is lying! Damon was framed by Sansa! She gave him the drugs, raped him then smashed her own face in! All to try and-" The hand hit fast and hard along with the voice.

"That is enough. You will not make a scene. I saw that girl's face, Ramsay. What pretty girl would do that to her face? But I can easily see you scaring Damon half to death after drugging him. Not something you haven't done to him before. Remember that Halloween you drugged his candy? Then dressed like a killer clown and chased him until he threw up?" Roose looked back at Kevan. "I remember the way to the clinic, thank you. No need to bother yourself."

Turning away as if he couldn't leave quick enough, Roose headed down the hill. Ramsay dragged Theon behind him, his face contorted with anger and hurt.

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bolton but as you can see, Damon is still heavily sedated. Unrestrained at least, now when he does wake, he mainly cries instead of trying to bolt away. If you shake him, perhaps he will respond. Sadly, what passed easily through Joff and Ramsay didn't go so easily for this poor child. Because he is larger, the boys assumed to give him three times their personal drug doses. Also, they were not careful in their choice of party drugs. This is a medical center that contains many drugs that cause extreme hallucinations at very high doses. It is never recommended for anyone to take such high levels."

Unella gave a stern glance at an open mouthed Ramsay.

Theon simply looked at the floor, wishing to be a thousand miles away.  He felt awful about how the school just set up Joff and Ramsay but there was nothing he could do but feel bad. If he tried to give Ramsay any kind of sympathy those cold eyes of Roose would land on him. Not to mention Ramsay would probably hit him for it. Ramsay was beyond stunned. He honestly couldn't believe so many adults would turn into a mutiny of cunts and set up their own students this way. And how to prove them wrong to his father who already believes the worst of his son at the best of times?

Roose tried to shake Damon and softly call his name. After a moment, there was some mild whimpers and sobbing. Ramsay came closer but his father pinned cold eyes upon him. "Do not come any closer to me or your poor half brother. How could you? Why do my children always end up killing each other one way or another?" With clenched fists, Ramsay snarled, "I had nothing to do with Domeric's disappearance but you'll always suspect me because you resent and hate me!" Roose sighed and smoothed down Damon's sweat drenched hair.

"No, Ramsay. I can't tell you this enough times, can I? I never thought you killed Domeric even though you were very jealous of him. But no, I have always known you didn't kill Domeric. But given the chance and time, you would have. Pity, I chose to legitimize you because I thought you were sane, intelligent and looked like me. Compared to the others, after Domeric, I thought you were my best choice. How wrong was I to assume that, Ramsay?"

Unella gave a grim fleeting smile to Ramsay as she discreetly left the room. Theon wished mightily that the doctor would tell him to leave too. That didn't happen and he tried to meld into the curtains. Ramsay snarled at Unella as she left then looked back at the only man he's ever loved and hated so much. Roose paced around Damon's bed slowly and continued his soft voiced assault.

"I was told that Damon had stopped following you about. That he has become studious, well, as the boy can be. He was pitied and befriended by Sansa and Loras. They and staff had urged him to ignore you and that upset you greatly. And Joff is just spiteful in general. So you figured to teach Damon a lesson with your drugs. You should pray that you never actually meet the real Tickler, Ramsay. There is one, there is always a real Tickler. I am just thankful that Damon didn't meet the real one. As for the rape story that you and Joff have concocted, I assure you, we are not pulling you all out of the school. I think it is a new low for you."

 

Cersei and Cat strolled towards the restroom in the cafeteria at the same time. "I heard an interesting tale about your daughter's poor face and a boy who's currently missing visitor's day." Cat responded calmly, "I heard an interesting tale about your son, Ramsay Bolton and a drug induced Tickler." The women told each other the tales and both left the ladies room with eyes blazing, full of unladylike thoughts.

Cat sat down at the long table and smiled at Sansa. Robb, Bran and Ned were devouring gourmet cheeseburgers, fancy sandwiches and pesto macaroni salad as if they have never tasted them before. Arya was laughing at them but she wasn't saying too much as she was busy eating salt and pepper crusted chicken wings. Sansa was nibbling at a bowl of salad, peeking across the table at her mother. Eyes clashed and Cat ignored the food to speak with her daughter.

"I was told a different tale of how you injured your face. I was told that you were raped by Damon. That he was taken by the Tickler for it. I did notice the rather large handsome boy missing. He was rooming with you, wasn't he, dear? Did he hurt you, rape and beat you? I am your mother, you can tell me anything, dear."

Sansa gave a smile and shook her head. "Mother, that is all ridiculous. I don't know who told you that, but they are lying. Damon got messed up with drugs, Ramsay and Joff talked him into it. They knew he was scared of the Tickler stories so they dressed up and scared him while he was high. He's in the clinic. Go see for yourself. Really, I am perfectly fine and fit, just not a dirt bike rider."

With a small nod, Cat sipped another her cup of coffee. "This is delicious. I must ask for the brand." Sansa laughed and said, "Won't help you any. We have a rather amazing cook and the staff keeps an online account they fund so he can buy special ingredients from anywhere. He grinds, sifts and seasons the coffee beans himself." The woman sighed then delicately put a small sandwich on her plate and a dab of the macaroni salad.

With a very casual voice, Cat spoke as her fork toyed with the food. "I also heard another story, a rather distasteful one. The story was about you setting Damon up for rape. I don't believe it, of course."

Hands tightening on her napkin, Sansa dabbed her lips then crinkled her nose. "I raped Damon? Has no one noticed our size difference? Must be Ramsay or Joff. They hate me, Joff resents Arya as his roommate. Plus I have advised Damon to stop being around Ramsay's influence. I guess I made myself a target without meaning to."

Cat looked carefully at Sansa but before she could say more, a young man appeared with a small tray.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Stark? I am aware that this kind of fare isn't to your taste. I hope I made the minced beef and onion soup correctly for you. There is fresh churned butter and thick freshly baked brown bread. Please enjoy." The boy was gone and Cat's nostrils flared. Even as her eyes were trying to zoom into her oldest daughter, her hand was picking up the spoon. Breaking through the thick layer of melted cheese, the spoon found the tender bits of beef and thick sliced onion.

It was hopeless after the first bite of soup, it was useless after the first taste of bread. Sansa helped herself to one of Arya's chicken wings as the girls relaxed finally. They listened to the family concoct a plan to coax Hot Pie into their limousine later and knew they were safe for now.

 

Roose sat at a table across from Ramsay and Theon.

He surveyed the platters of food, backyard grilled fare and probably made by the same terrible old cook. His nostrils told him differently but Roose was too focused on his son. Damon's condition was shocking and dismaying. Roose was aware that no story he has heard today has been the truth. Which story is the true one, he gathers would be hard to discover.

Roose found it hard to believe that Sansa would destroy her own face, but she was Cat's daughter. He recalls how ruthless his classmates were, Cat was quite the savage herself. If Cat had needed to do such a thing, she would have without hesitation. Yet, Roose could easily see Ramsay playing a terrible joke on Damon by drugging him. He hoped that actually was the true story, the thought of Damon meeting one of Kevan's Ticklers was horrible.

That poor boy, Roose had fostered him, allowed Ramsay to know him, hoping to try things differently. Separating Domeric from Jeyne led to tragedy. Of course, most of that blame lies directly on his dead wife. He hoped allowing Ramsay and Damon to be brothers would create a better ending. Except Damon was dumb, easily led and Ramsay just pulled the boy into every bloody thing he did. How can Roose believe that Ramsay wouldn't react badly to Damon not following him anymore?

So Roose's eyes landed upon Theon, who instantly cringed and tried to pretend he was invisible. Bloodless lips curled into a small smile as Roose leaned forward, ready to pick the boy until he exposed truth. Ramsay grabbed Theon's hand as if in support and Theon swallowed his mouthful of burger then faced the imposing man. "Theon...it seems you have all the same classes as Ramsay. Roommates and clearly close friends. Surely you can cast some light on the different stories I have heard?" Theon paled and stammered, looking down then he steadily looked back up at Roose.

"I don't pay attention to gossip or rumors, Sir."

Before Roose could challenge that absurd statement, a young man stood before him holding a tray.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bolton. I hope you do not take offense, but I made a special dish for you. I do hope I made it correctly, please let me know if I didn't." The bowl was set before Roose, as well as a selection of thick bread and fresh butter. Scoffing at such obvious tricks, Roose started to eat as he stared at Theon. That is when Roose Bolton discovered he has never had true clam chowder before until now. As Roose enjoyed the cheddar cheese and corn biscuits, Ramsay smirked at him.

"No, before you say it, I won't help you steal our cook. Even if you believed me today and offered to let me leave. Well, if I get to leave here, then yeah, I'd help you just so I can continue to eat the food."

 

Cersei sat across from Joff and continued to sip at her coffee.

"Want a plate of anything?" Shaking her head, Cersei smirked. "No dear, I am on a diet. Besides, remember, mommy told you she went to school here. We had a very bad cook and I don't intend to repeat those digestive offenses." Joff shrugged as he ruthlessly stripped chicken wings with his teeth until they were nothing but small bones upon his plate. "Mother, you have to get me out of here. I told you all the shitty things going in this place! It's not like when you were here."

"I should hope not! It is actual much better and I can see that you are healthy. You look tanned, stronger, I like it. I don't believe those terrible stories of you, dear, of course I don't. But this is a place that you must stay in for a little bit longer. Just until we can get Kevan to see that you are doing better. We must do this the right way, honey. I need you to do your part while I do mine. That means just try a tiny bit harder in classes, find a mentor, look for your talent. While you keep showing progress, mother can find a way to get Kevan to release you. He likes to see students become useful. And he won't release a student until he feels they are ready."

Joff would have argued more but he continued eating his chicken, adding some macaroni salad to his plate. A young man approached and set a drink down in front of Cersei, then a small tray. "Excuse me, Mrs. Baratheon-Lannister, I am sorry for disturbing you. This drink is complements of your brother, I made him this same concoction earlier. I hope you enjoy it. Also, I am aware that heavy fare is not appealing to some. I hope this lighter dish will do."

Cersei found herself lost in liquor fueled ambrosia. It only seemed enhanced by the baked crackers and salmon pate. The fresh fruit was exotic and the whipped yogurt dip was too good for Cersei to leave even a little left in the tiny bowl. "Dearest, mommy is going to get you out of here as soon as I can and we will kidnap that cook as well."

 

Hot Pie was hot, tired and sweaty, leaning against the wall for a second. Kevan walked up to him and the boy struggled to stand straighter.

"Excellent work, Hot Pie. I believe you might have accomplished the impossible. You got some of the most dangerous and problem causing parents around to shut up and eat in harmony with their families. Amazing work, boy. I have decided this might be your redemption. Perhaps I was too hasty in my judgment on your loyalty. I shall think upon things."

Jeyne served pitchers of lemonade and coffee, she brought full dishes and took away empty ones. She looked at no one, spoke to no one and not once did she give a single glance to her father. Roose looked at her a few times and at first he was satisfied at how well she obeyed orders to not acknowledge him in public. He noticed that she was acting much more human than feral but he wondered at her shaved head.

Glancing at Ramsay, Roose hoped he was doing right by telling the boy the truth. But being in the same school there is a chance that one or the other would find out anyway. Both were too dangerous to learn the truth without supervision. After they had eaten their fill, after Roose watched Jeyne leave the cafeteria, he spoke. "Ramsay, there is something else, another reason why I came today. I have something to tell you, show you. Let's take a walk, son."

Chapter Text

While the families ate, the staff did the same in their usual spot, even for visitors, they couldn't, wouldn't change their place for meals. They worked too hard for it. It was the only time they could relax, argue, discuss the day or release some anger, tell a joke. It was their time to eat good food and have good drinks.

Hot Pie started to add mixed drinks to his supper offerings to the staff table right after his report. This had endeared him to them enough to talk the staff into making him an account to buy exotic or different items for meals and drinks. The boy was truly learning to work the system and Polliver got the praise while the boy got a third of their measly paychecks. They all received strong drinks during their lunch today as well as their favorite sandwiches.

Raff had looked over and groaned. He saw Jeyne put down the last tray and stalk out of the door, running off.

 "There goes Jeyne. Gods, I hope she makes it through this. Ramsay will do something stupid, she'll kill them both, I know it." Polliver rolled his eyes. Gregor snorted at Raff's dramatic lamenting. "Kevan said she can't see Roose without supervision, we will both be there. I doubt she can take down both of us then kill the Boltons." Polliver grinned. "She might just go hiding instead. If she feels she can't fight or act normal, Feral will just hide until they leave. Then kill Ramsay afterwards." Sandor shook his head at all them in disgust. "How about just offering her some damned support or sedate her enough to get her through it?"

Unella dug into her chicken pesto sandwich with a vengeance that was slightly scary to watch. "This will trigger her. Just hope she doesn't react until it's over. You should both be with her, Sandor is right." They all stared at her, not for her words but her actions. She managed to eat the entire sandwich in three bites and was now reaching into Gregor's plate. His artisan bread with goat cheese, olive and red pepper was gone in three cold hearted bites. Stannis, Sandor and Tyrion all lifted their plates and clutched them tightly. Unella's eyes went to Polliver's plate and her hand snatched Raff's pastrami sandwich fast.

"Raff, when did you put the tracker back in Jeyne's arm?" Freezing, the handsome man who was just a moment ago about to fight a pregnant doctor for his sandwich, responded, "I didn't. I thought you did." Unella stared at Raff then bit hard into his sandwich, then Gregor and finally at Polliver. "I guess the counselors and therapist of Jeyne better go find her." The three cursed but left fast, hoping Jeyne wasn't already somewhere in hiding mode. As soon as they stood to leave, Unella leaned over and stole Polliver's shaved steak, tomato and provolone wrap. Sandor, Stannis and Tyrion shoved their meals into their mouths as fast as they could. 

Regardless, the only thing safe was their drinks. When they finished eating, Unella already had devoured the miniature lemon cakes, a key lime pie and a plate of brownies. Stannis looked at Unella with trembling lips and a quivering nose. The slightest gleam of tears in his eyes. "You monster."

 

Jeyne was pacing near the edge of the woods, muttering then slamming her palms against a tree. Polliver acted as if he were just strolling on by, twirling his baton. He texted Raff that he found her, didn't bother to text Gregor. Humming, so she heard him coming, he walked near her and then leaned against a tree.

"Sweetheart, that's a good way to mess up your hands. Then Unella has a reason to pull you into her office. Careful, your outfit is so perfect today. Everyone is impressed with you, even myself, duckling. It's hard and sucks the way your family has fucked with you...and needing to face Roose and Ramsay. But I hope, we all hope that Jeyne the Person stares them in their faces and shows them up as the best human in the room. Because you are the best of that lot, trust me."

Jeyne shook her head and glared at Polliver. "That's not true! Domeric was the best of us all and he died for it! Ramsay will LOOK and he will LAUGH then act like...SHE DID!" Slamming her palms again, Jeyne struggled to stay, to not just let the mindless feral behavior take over no matter the comfort in it.

"All of us are rooting for you, the whole damned staff. And next report I want to announce that you have earned back your name, but as I told Raff...I need to see it to believe you are ready to lose your nickname. Of course, if you are acting like a Jeyne, it would be silly to keep calling you Feral, right?"

With a wistfulness, Jeyne wrapped her arms around herself and peered up at Polliver. "Give me my name back? At the next report, for real? Everyone is really wanting to see me do good? Are you lying?" Polliver chuckled and twirled his baton, stretching out before standing straight. "No, duckling, I am not lying to get good behavior from you. I am going to trust that Jeyne will have good behavior so that she can lose her Feral nickname."

To Jeyne's surprise, Polliver strolled away without coaxing her back from the woods.

She followed him on stalking legs, her hands curled, but she headed back anyway. Raff was there and he gently took her stiff hands, massaging them, speaking softly. "Don't tense up, Jeynie. They can't hurt you anymore. We are your family now, right? All of us, the whole staff, Hot Pie and Myranda, we all only want to see you grow and become a person that can face anything. This is the start of your real life, Jeynie, remember that. You have come so far, don't you let Roose or Ramsay drag you back down to their level."  

A few moments later, Gregor showed up and after hitting Raff for no reason that Jeyne could see, he gave her a cheerful smile. "There you are! Glad to see that you didn't decide to turn into a monkey! Now, daddy is telling Ramsay about you right now. Then he wants to visit with you. We are going to be with you the whole time, you have your own support team today! Because we know what sadistic fucks Roose and Ramsay can be. So, we are meeting them in the therapy circle barn. Big enough space for Ramsay to jump and wave his arms in."

Jeyne giggled and Raff held her hand as they walked, Gregor on her other side, not touching her, but staying close.

 

Roose walked with his hands behind his back, Ramsay mimicking him. He had told Theon that he wished to speak in private with his son. That kid took off as fast as he could, but not until after he squeezed Ramsay's shoulder. Roose could hear the arrogant boy mocking him with Joff from a distance and he glared at his son.

"Lovely replacement for Damon that you've found. I am sure that by the time I see him again that arrogance will be gone and replaced by...whatever you've decided. He isn't a friend, it's a boyfriend, I can see that, son. I am not stupid but nor do I care. It won't be any different then any girlfriends you managed to have. Luckily, his father won't be after me for damages later. Balon wouldn't dare and he would be too disgusted anyway."

Ramsay smirked and looked up at his father with glittery manic eyes, with his face pulled into polite cheerfulness. "Wonderful bonding time with you, father. It's been so good to see you. Since you don't believe anything I say, you really should just go home now. It's such a long way and I'm sure you'd like to get started. Till next time, then?" Roose sighed and continued on his path with a leisurely pace.

"Such impertinence. No, I am not quite ready to leave, Ramsay. Soon, but not yet. We must talk. You are aware of both your half brothers. You were allowed to meet Domeric and live for a while with Damon. However, do you remember how you were not allowed near other portions of the house until Domeric died? Until my wife died? There was a reason for that, Ramsay." Roose looked forward only and continued, wanting to get this distasteful but needed business out of the way.

"My wife was a very cold and jealous woman. She married me not for love but because Kevan made the match for us, to benefit our families and his own. Bethany understood my ways but never accepted them with peace and grace. Luckily, you and Damon still had mothers to at least attempt to raise you. She was not gracious about your visits and hated allowing Domeric near you. Bethany never found out about Damon. I also have a daughter and her mother died when she was only five. My wife did not take well to having someone else's daughter in her home and I was traveling quite a lot back then. To be honest, I avoided the family dramatics and I allowed my wife too free a reign on the girl. Bethany insisted on keeping the child separate from all of you. However, since you are in the same school as her now...you must meet your half sister. She is waiting to see me in the barn."

Ramsay stopped walking and stared at Roose. "What? I have a what? And this was the clear perfect time to tell me I have a sister? No other point up until now seemed important enough to tell me? How many kids do you have just wandering around?" Roose spun around and stood over his son. "You will come into the barn, you will meet your half sister and then I will leave. And I hope that whatever mess you have created is fixed by the time I visit again. I agree with the staff, you should not be friends with Damon anymore. He is your half brother and you will support him rather than hurt him. And once you've met your sister, you can continue to avoid her too. But I am being a good father by offering the honesty, giving you the respect of the truth. Try to be grateful for that. Now let's go."

 

With a scowl, Ramsay followed Roose into the barn and his jaw dropped for a second time in one day.

Raff let go of Jeyne's hand and she took two stiff steps forward. Her head rose with a snap and her eyes went straight to Roose. "Hello, father." He moved closer as if to kiss or hug her and Jeyne moved away fast. Gregor stayed near the back of the room and Raff leaned against the closed door. Roose looked slightly ruffled but his face smoothed out as the girl kept a foot of distance between them.

"Hello, Jeyne, how are you? You look so much better than the last time I saw you. I am so pleased at your progress. I got your report personally this time and I was happy to hear how well you've been getting. Not a single bad thing, just progression that slowly takes place. Kevan said you might even have your eye on talent or two."

Jeyne nodded and clasped her hands together tightly. "I am happy here. I am learning and have support here. Thank you for visiting me. Have a good trip home. Bye."

Gregor grinned and Raff smothered a laugh as Jeyne gave a cheery wave to Roose. Her eyes looked so hopeful until Roose smirked and sighed.

"Very nice try, dear. I am afraid I won't be able to find you a society husband that can be held by your charms yet, Jeyne. That wasn't a very convincing way to make someone leave." Roose tilted his head, peering at her cap. "And may I ask, why is your head bald? Who shaved off all that lovely hair you hid behind?"

Jeyne stuck her chin up high and peered down her nose at him. "I did it to myself. I watched G. I. Jane and got the idea. I am learning to kick-box, I am learning to use an axe. I will learn to make my anger and feral instincts work for me."

Ramsay shut his mouth then let out a burst of laughter, coming closer. He peered at Jeyne as if he were at a zoo and she was the exhibit. "Oh gods, the feral, dad? You and Bethany were the ones that fucked her up this bad? To make her a little beast? Damn, guess I owe you an apology after all, you really did do better by me and Damon, didn't you? Is that how Domeric really died, Dad? Did Jeyne eat Domeric and you just let me suffer, thinking you thought I did it?"

Jeyne growled softly but stood her ground. Roose turned to Ramsay. "How many times have I told you? I never thought you killed Domeric! Never! Only YOU got that in your damned head. And you will not mock me or my dead wife, son. Or I'll strike you down right here in front of them all. Do you hear me?"

Ramsay gritted his teeth but nodded. "Oh, I hear you, father. Loud and clear. Now that you've shown me just how bad of a father you can be, I feel immensely better about my own life." He gave a jaunty thumbs up and his manic cheerfulness was back. Leaning past his father's slender build, Ramsay gave a wave to Jeyne.

"Hey there, Sis. Nice to meet you! I will remember to send you a small gift on the holidays! Maybe a nice bone or a designer leash with matching collar? Though I have to say, until now I didn't see the resemblance, but you have our father's eyes and your hair was the same color. How lovely for you."

Jeyne tensed but she just looked back at Ramsay. "I did not know until today either. I will remember you on the holidays too, Ramsay. Would you like a live skinned animal or still with its fur so you can do it yourself?" Gregor and Raff didn't hide their smiles this time at all. Ramsay snarled at her then gave a sweet smile and started to walk over to her. Roose looked wary and tried to stay between them but Jeyne gave a smirk as Ramsay slid past his father's grasp.

They stood eye to eye and the three men in the room tensed, ready to launch at the dangerous children.  Jeyne spoke first, softly. "I am not your enemy, Ramsay." He smiled and responded just as softly, just as their father would. "You are my sister. We are family. We aren't enemies. But we aren't friends." Jeyne returned the smile with just as manic and chilly as Ramsay's. "No, we aren't friends. That doesn't have to change either. If you leave me alone, I will leave you alone."

Ramsay tilted his head and got a playful look on his face. "Maybe someday, we can take the time to chat. To see if we can ever be friends." Jeyne shrugged. "Maybe someday. Not now." Ramsay gave a soft laugh that was mocking. "No, not yet. Someday. For now, we are not anything but a shared father. You aren't anything to me, really. Actually, you aren't really anyone at all. Maybe someday you can be a someone, never give up on that, little Feral."

Jeyne growled and Ramsay returned it as Roose grabbed his arm and yanked him backwards sharply. Gregor was just behind Jeyne as Raff came forward. "I think that is enough for Jeyne now. Say your goodbyes, please." Roose glared at Raff while he shoved Ramsay behind him. "I have a right to visit with any of my children as long as I would wish for." Gregor smiled and swept Jeyne behind his bulk with one large hand.

"Not according to Kevan, Mr. Bolton. Damon and Jeyne are on limitations with visitors for their own health and safety. Please visit with Ramsay as long as you'd like, until visitor time has ended. But Jeyne is done visiting now. You may say your farewells. Or you can argue and I will take her out of her without a last word. Your choice, Mr. Bolton."

Jeyne peeked past Gregor and gave an empty strained smile. "Bye father, thank you for visiting me. See you later, Ramsay." Grabbing Raff's arm so tightly that he winced, Jeyne whispered, "I need to leave now, please. I am done here. Escort me out so I can leave like a full person, I want to crawl and run but I don't want that to be the last thing my father sees. Please?" Raff smiled and left the man to argue with Gregor.

He led Jeyne out the door and tried to coax her towards the clinic. "Nope. You want to get that tracker back in me. I don't like it. Trust me that I won't ever run away so far that I can't come home. This is home, where I can always come back to. No more trackers." Raff tried to explain it was for her own safety but she bolted on him.

Chapter Text

Olenna smiled gently at Polliver as she approached him, leaning heavily upon her cane.

"Attend me, young man! Do not make me chase you all around the lawn in such an undignified manner! Just wait there, cool your heals while I try not to keel over in the heat and hills of Kevan's torture playground. There now, you are a good man for waiting for an old woman." Polliver tried not to sigh and feel harassed. Then he tried not to show shock as the cane came up and twirled fast, madly as if wielded by a flag girl from hell. The rubber end was in his chest, pushing him backwards.

"Loras tells me you call them your ducklings. Cute, I get it, the ducklings in a row. I called them my row of roses, I had four thorns in my class. Three of them here today, in fact. How many of yours are bad ducklings, young man? Why have you helped ducklings be naughty, junior? Putting boys and girls in rooms together is never a good idea. Whether the story of the rape was real or not, it falls on you for those silly co-ed rooms. You should rectify that. And if I ever hear that Loras is roomed with a girl, I assure you that I have tricks with my cane and rings way better than your little baton. Bah, what have counselors come to?"

Polliver stood there, stunned, as Olenna put her cane firmly into the ground and turned to slowly, nearly arthritic in her movements, head across the lawn. 

 

Unella had checked upon Damon then left his room just to encounter Cat Stark.

Unella was taller and wider, more muscular than this woman yet she felt slightly intimidated. The matriarch was pretty in a hard angle way, her hair was red that was dimmed by weak cold sun, her skin was pale, her eyes were a winter's gaze. Cat's voice was polite but it was icicles, sharp and ready to sink deep. "Doctor, please excuse my intrusion. I do hope the young man is going to be alright. I hear it was drugs. Terrible. A pity that Ramsay and Joff would sink so very low. Surprising on Ramsay's part, considering that boy is in here due to following him so blindly." 

With a professional but empty smile, Unella firmly shut Damon's door behind her. "It is and I assure you that we shall deal with it. However, I am sure you understand that I am not able to discuss other students with you." Cat's demeanor changed so fast that Unella barely saw it happen. The eyes turned darker, almost beady, they were inquisitive and yet blank, merciless. Though Cat did not resemble a bird, her neck extended slightly and her head nodded closer in such a way that Unella thought crazily of a raven coming for her. Each word was a small peck.

"That is actually why I am here, Doctor. Because there is a dreadful rumor I hear about my eldest daughter. And there is a rather large boy claiming to have met the Tickler, in your clinic. If my daughter did truly just suffer a fall from a dirt-bike, I would like to see that report. And all other reports concerning her, please. Now." Unella nodded and gestured. "I would have to enter my office for that, Mrs. Stark. You would need to stop cornering me first, if you don't mind." Her words came out like dropped stones. Cat moved gracefully out of the way and followed the doctor into her office.

Cat waited, sitting ramrod straight in a chair as Unella went through her files and finally produced a thick file. "Here you are, would you like Arya's too?" "Since you've mentioned it, yes, please." Sharp eyes scanned every page of the report and then froze. "What is this?" Unella hid her smile well as she kept looking for a file she was already holding. "What is it, Mrs. Stark?" "I see that Sansa tested positive for drugs once. There is a side note that it is the same drug found in Ramsay and Joff's blood at other times after being near Sansa. That there was a question of Sansa dealing? My daughter does not do drugs. She does not deal or steal drugs. This is to be removed, it was an error."

Unella pulled Arya's file forth and gave Cat her most brilliant stare and professional tone. "I am afraid that is the truth. The staff are witnesses, not students that might hold a grudge. As for changes in her record, you'll have to speak with Kevan, Mrs. Stark."  Cat stood up, clutching Sansa's file. "Why would anyone hold grudges against Sansa?" Unella shrugged, "Not all kids like a perfect girl like your daughter." Cat ignored Arya's file and snapped, "I shall take Sansa's file with me to see Kevan. He will return it to you after I have him amend it. Good day, Doctor." Unella smirked and put back Arya's folder and would pull out Sansa's real file later on after the Starks were long gone. 

 

Cersei walked up to her uncle with a fake pleasant smile upon her face, her voice was warm honey. "Uncle, how wonderful it is to see you." Kevan smiled brilliantly at his niece and hugged her, kissing her blond hair. "My dearest niece! The last time I saw you was at the services for your small children. I must say that you look better already, that short hair just suits you somehow. And black is certainly a stunning color and perfectly suits you! Now, I trust you had a very good visit with Joff and the staff that works with him?"

"Oh yes. I had a very detailed visit from my son. Then another one with Tyrion, my brother had admitted to abusing my son to my face. Slapping his own nephew and that dreadful Stannis admitted to throwing chalk, books and erasers at Joff's head. Then I hear that students had been allowed access to drugs. Joff was sent here to get away from substances and those that would deal it to him. Or so I thought. Since my son is no better here, why does he need to stay? I have found other options for him, let me try them. Please, it is clear he won't get any better here, uncle."

Kevan patted Cersei's shoulder and pulled his face into a mock sympathetic look. It warmed him to see his niece visibly fight snarling and yanking from his touch.

"My dear, you love your son with such dedication. But this truly is where he needs to be. Even in rehabs, a person will find drugs if they look hard enough. In prison or a juvenile detention center, he would have tons of drugs available to him. In exchange for dreadful things. If your son leaves here, there is no guarantee that isn't where he ends up. Or worse, Cersei. Joff was lucky to have survived the crash, niece. Very lucky. He might leave here, relapse completely and overdose somewhere, alone, when you least expect it."  

Cersei did hiss then and yank away. "Is that a threat? Was that truly needed, uncle? At least see that my son is no longer offered drugs! See that he isn't beaten by his teachers, abused by his counselors! And why is he roomed with a girl? With that little brat and with the Sansa rumor...Joff shouldn't be with a girl in his room! I can easily see his spiteful teachers setting him up!" Kevan gave a soft chuckle that was as warm and enveloping as a summer breeze. He grabbed Cersei's hand and squeezed just almost too hard.

"My sweet niece and former student! Like you, your son needs a firmer hand than others might. So his teachers and counselors know exactly what they are doing. I agree with you that our drugs must be better protected from thieves, dealers and of course, your son. That will be handled, I assure you. As for Joff's unique roommate, they actually get along quite well. Both class clowns, both have no other friends here. However, I have faith in them that they are not lost causes. At least they have a friend in each other. I rather fancy a match between a Stark and a Lannister, don't you?"

Kevan watched as Cersei paled then tightened her own hand in his, in pure outrage. "I think that is a horrible idea. Luckily for Joff and Arya they are not old enough. The girl alone is far too young to think of such things. Not to mention, Cat Stark would also believe it was a horrible idea. We would stand against you on that one, Uncle Kevan."

Raising an eyebrow, Kevan smirked as he observed Cat storming up the hill holding Sansa's file. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that, Cersei. We both know that Sansa is Cat's prize treasure, not Arya. Better to toss the second best as a sacrifice rather than lose her first best."

 

Cat walked up to Kevan and Cersei, her smile just as bright and hateful at Kevan, as a bitter cold moon. "Excuse me, I am sorry to interrupt, but it is a matter of great importance. Would you mind, Cersei?"

With a hard eye at her uncle, Cersei pulled away her hand then glance down at Cat's grip on a thick folder. "Cat, before you speak with my uncle, you should know something. He thinks a match between Joff and Arya would be a good idea. Please tell him that you agree with me that it is a terrible idea for our young children?"

Cat stared at Kevan with bright revulsion and replied fast, "It is a disgusting idea and I won't hear of it anymore than Cersei will. You go too far sometimes, Kevan." Cersei smiled at Cat with something akin to dark favor and Cat gave a quick nod. Kevan smiled and spread his arms.

"Ah, the mean girls club! When together, you were invincible, weren't you? I can almost see both of you and Bethany with your scheming now...of course, Bethany is dead. And both of you lived but lost two children each. I guess meanness doesn't truly pay off in the end as I had warned you over and over."

The women stood shoulder to shoulder against him and their hostile gazes just warmed Kevan to the cockles of his heart. He looked at Cat cheerfully.

"Now, I assume that is Sansa's file. You wish to argue about her drug doing, dealing and stealing? I guess you would like it expunged. I will tell you, Cat, that Sansa does have an excellent record otherwise. Also, I have decided to personally mentor the girl. Does a small thing like that drug snafu matter compared to all else the girl has going for her?"

Cat glared at Kevan. "Yes, it does. Because it simply cannot be true. Because Sansa can never have a record tainted like that. Not and have a good future. And since when have you begun mentoring again, Sir? I am honored that you choose my daughter for such a privilege, but I am curious."  Kevan smirked.

"I find that your daughter is brilliant and driven. Why should I not wish to cultivate such a gem on my own instead of giving her to others to mold? Sansa has talents just brimming within her cunning little mind. I am interested in that, very interested. On the other hand, I have Arya and Joff. Who have only talents of money and name so far. If they do not learn, do not change, then I will find use in that. There will be an engagement and wedding when I say and that will be their one ticket out of here. Unless, talents are found. Of course, if either of you wish to continue on about silly rumors the students come up with...I might have to reconsider giving Joff and Arya a chance to find more useful talents before a union."

 

Ned was slightly smiling as he watched his sons tease and chat with his daughters. He frowned when Roose sidled up next to him. "Don't tell me you want to gossip and tell rumors too? Save it for the ladies, if you please. I only have a short time with my girls, I don't intend on sullying it with trash talk." Roose smirked and dusted a bit of pollen off his suit coat.

"What I have to speak about is no gossip at all. Simple truth and fact, is all. Balon has not paid a dime, not even the measly amount we asked for. I am displeased and so is Olenna. Also, Tywin is displeased at Balon not even keeping up his end of the deal by not tanking his business dealings. The man is useless to us all. Perhaps gaining favor from Tywin by disposing Balon without being asked will be an idea?"     

"I will discuss that with you another time. I only have a short time with my daughters. Then I must deal with that slimy brother in law and pray that my nephew doesn't go on a hiking trip too. When I return home, I will call you and discuss it." Ned turned back to watching his daughters and Roose sighed. "By the time you return, Tywin will have ordered it himself. He has little patience left with Balon. I wouldn't wait. I hope you don't blame me, but I might not wait."

Ned growled out, "You work for me." Roose seemed to consider this then spoke carefully, softly.

"No. I work for myself, I choose to offer my services to you, after all, you are local. But that doesn't mean I don't take contracts out other than your own, Ned. And sometimes, I choose to offer gifts to appease others. Kevan and Tywin like receiving gifts as much as they love making others their pawns. If I choose to go for Balon on my own, that is your loss but it isn't a loyalty issue. I want to protect my children in Kevan's care. And I want Balon out of Theon's life since I have no idea what Ramsay will do with him. Oh, and I want Tywin to consider me as important as say...say, a Stark."

Now Ned was no longer looking at his children, but it was too late, Roose was already walking towards Ramsay.

 

Olenna hugged Loras tightly one last time, hiding her brief stinging tears.

"I truly love you, lad, I do. I am sorry it came to this, to being here but I was right in the end. It was the best option for you. Look at you, how proud I am of you! Making the most of everything here, trying to change and succeeding so well! Everyone had a true honest report and you KNOW I can smell bullshit! But they were truly impressed with you. That stone goddess they call a doctor said you haven't needed any medication beyond the first week here. The therapist says you are regretful of your previous actions, that you are reflective of your future and engaged in your present. Guess that mumbo jumbo means you got your lovely head out of your fantastic ass! That dwarf nearly gave me my first true drunk in some years as he breathed upon me how you were a genius in disguise! Possibly the reincarnate of Lord Bryon himself. I am surprised at that dour Stannis as your mentor, but I guess its a balance for you. Even that brutish mountain of a man had the best grunt for you."

Olenna deepened her voice and grunted out, "He tries very hard. Good mind, at least." Loras smiled at his grandmother and hugged her tightly back before stepping away a bit.

"I don't think physical exercise will ever be my thing. I am also pretty lousy with auto, wood and metalwork. Gregor had me try to chop wood one day and gave up after just a few tries. He changed my schedule right there in front of me so I only had to see him for gym and track. Told me that the sight of me trying manly things made him want to cry like a little girl."

Olenna laughed along with Loras then looked at him somberly. She spoke quietly, without a trace of humor or her usual sarcasm. "I am glad you have found peace here. Glad you are my loving grandson again, I have truly missed you so much. I love you and always have only wanted the best for you. Renly and Marge loved you and only wanted the best for you."

Loras hugged her one last time as if to stifle emotion but unable to help it then walked away fast. He had to get away to hide the ice cold hatred in his eyes.

Chapter Text

With a giggle Sara looked up at Belinda. "My teeth rattle with the truck." A distracted smile back and a even more distant response. "Mine too."

First they were put into a small van for a long drive. Then the were put into a large truck and went for a longer drive. Clara, Belinda and the other older ones were wary of where this ride will take them. Granted, they were not in chains, they were given clothing and food, water bottles, even snacks for the younger ones.

At reasonable intervals, the van stopped and Locke escorted them to a lonely restroom at some gas station. He would give plenty of time for them to use the facilities and stretch their legs. They were given blankets and pillows for sleeping. Locke gave the youngest two teddy bears and the older women coffee from a bakery. He was polite and never touched them or acted inappropriate. He also didn't answer any questions and was firm when it was time to get back into the van.

When the young ones were asleep, the older ones would whisper about where they are being taken. It could be they were being tricked into human trafficking. Or maybe they were being taken over the border? The second option was much sweeter but they worried. They were not given any resources yet, just this endless ride. When the truck finally stopped and Locke flung the doors wide, announcing, "The end of our long journey together, ladies!", they were not sure if they were relieved or terrified.

Locke beckoned the ladies out, but for a moment they all pressed into the back. They were terrified that another version of Craster was awaiting them. A silky smooth voice came floating forth. "It's quite all right, Locke. They have good reason to feel such caution. I will take care of these ladies, you are free to go. I have a car waiting along with your pay. Thank you very much." With a last wave to the females, Locke nodded to a man they couldn't see and then he left them.

 

Another man took his spot near the end of the truck doors but a respectful distance. His hair was a lion's mane, barely tamed to his shoulders, a strong handsome face, deep sparkling eyes of a fox. With a charming smile, the man held out a thick folder in one hand and the other was extended to help the ladies out.

"Welcome to Casterly Rock, ladies. My name is Lancel Lannister, I am Kevan's son and at your service. The oldest of you is Clara? My lady, would you please come forward first? Since you are taking responsibility for all of your sisters, I will give this folder to you. It contains birth certificates for all. Working papers for those sixteen and older."

Clara gingerly stepped forward and out of the van first. She nearly snatched the folder from the handsome young man. "Does..does it contains passports or money?" Lancel smiled warmly at her, his dimple making the younger girls nearly swoon as they crawled closer to the doors of the van. "I'm sorry, they do not."

Clara blocked her sisters from getting out and she started to nervously look about. With a slight chuckle, Lancel put his hands in his pockets.

"I understand, you are waiting for the trick, looking for the evil men to pounce upon you. It won't happen, I promise you. My father left your fate in my hands, so to speak, that is true. Father might have been happy to hear that I released you staggering about like field mice in the great wide world to fly or fail armed with nothing more than papers and a bit of cash. I will not do such a thing. I have a better offer for all of you. I promise you it will never, ever involve anything like what had been done to you. If anything, I would like to teach you there are men out there that will respect you. And I want to teach you how to force men to give you that respect."

As skeptical as Clara was, there was truly no other choice she could see. "Promise me, you aren't going to hurt my sisters. That's all I ask. I can do anything..whatever needs to be done. Please, just don't force my sisters back into that again. It's all I ask." Lancel's eyes were kind and yet seemed angry but not at her.

"Clara, I am so sorry that you should ever have to feel that way. Never, you will never be used that way again. Your sisters are going to be safe in my care and so will you. My solemn promise and I never, ever break a promise."  

 

They took one last ride and this time it was a very fancy van. Each of them had a plush seat with a cup holder and tray full of water, small snacks. The younger children boggled at the little screen they watched cartoons on. The older girls kept their eyes on the driver, their handsome benefactor and the long road past unfamiliar trees. Lancel had opened the windows to let them enjoy the fresh, warm air.

Clara asked if they were in the south and Lancel responded, "Very deep south, yes."

A large massive garden seemed to rise around the road and it turned to smooth twinkling bricks that formed a large circle around a mansion. The girls all gaped at the house and Sara hollered, "Just like Annie! I'm gonna live like Annie and I'm gonna SING and own a DOG!" Lancel burst into laughter along with the others. He got out and let the ladies out as well.

"Sorry, darling. You will not live in this house, it already has others living in it. However, I will show you the house you will live in. Not as big as this one, but not teensy either. I mean...now it's true that only toads have been living in it up until now...."

Sara and all the younger ones, including the three year old, Mari, all were clustered around Lancel to hear this incredible tale. As he led them around the back of the mansion, the man weaved a tale of toads that dressed with spectacular fashion and walked on webbed feet, spoke only perfect dictation.

"Now, they are snobs, I will admit it and if you decline a tea invite with them, you can consider yourself blackballed from any further events in this city. You will have to share the house with them, I am afraid. Do be polite if you can, they take up very little space."

Even the teenage girls were tiptoeing closer, enchanted by the storyteller more than the tale. Clara and Belinda shared worried glances but followed along. Then gasped at the three story white house with thick columns seeming to protect the deep porch that went around the house.

Lancel had pointed and said,

"There it is, ladies. I hope the furnishings are to your taste, I decorated it myself for you. What you don't like you can change, of course. You will have paychecks now so you can do as you will with it. There is a small backyard that is yours as well. Of course, on the estate we have a pool, considering our weather. That is open for staff and their families to use during hours I have posted in your employee handbooks. The tennis court, employee cars, horses in the stable, the weight room are also open to you during certain times each day."

Clara and Belinda were nearly deafened by screams about horses and pools.

 

The younger girls flew inside to inspect the house and Lancel walked in slowly with Clara and Belinda.

"The first floor is a full kitchen with a pantry, dining room, living room, half bathroom and den. I have installed a washer and dryer in the pantry for your convenience. The second floor has a full bathroom and five bedrooms. Third floor has three bedrooms more, another full bathroom. I took the liberty of adding extra beds to the smallest children's rooms. Little ones sleep better with company. And I am sure you would love to finally experience privacy for yourself and your older siblings."

Clara took a deep breath as she took in a dishwasher, large screen television, gaming system and more in the living room. She and Belinda exchanged glances and turned back to Lancel with hard eyes.

"And what do we have to do for all of this to be ours?" Lancel smiled, taking no offense.

"Simple, the mansion needs lots of staff and it likes loyal staff that understands privacy. My uncle resides here along with myself. I promise he is a good man with no interest in harassing his staff. My uncle, Jaime Lannister, is a lawyer and rarely at home. Mostly it is me you will see. I want to offer you all classes to get your diplomas and offer you any training for your new positions. I am told that twenty year old Janice is excellent with cars, used to take care of your family vehicles."

Clara shrugged.

"Craster was too cheap to hire help. We did everything on that frozen wasteland of a farm. The only thing he ever did himself was the slaughtering of our meat animals. Only because he liked to cause fear and pain that much. We each learned how to survive for ourselves and him. Marla can grow anything, had even learned how to make a different strand of flower. Becca can organize anything and has amazing sewing skills. Belinda did any and all repairs on our home and I have run a household for years along with raising children and running a farm. And yes, Janice was amazing with anything, tractors, trucks, cars and hay-makers alike. She even had a dirt bike that she restored herself that Craster would let her ride to town for small things like our female hygiene products."

Whistling, Lancel exclaimed, "And to think the man was a millionaire, he had a grip on the throats of every farmer in the deep north. Kevan will be selling your father's property off to several farmers and pocket the profit. He will see it as payment for his good deed in setting you all free."

Bitterly, Belinda spit out, "He can keep every cent, every blood coin of it for all we care! I don't care if we must go homeless, better than touching anything that he had!" Clara patted her sister's shoulder to calm her but secretly agreed. Lancel shook his head.

"See, that is exactly what I don't want for you. You all deserve better than that! You deserve a chance to heal, to grow and learn your crafts well enough to become truly independent. And that is all I offer you. In fact, in the contract you would sign that is a condition. That you may leave here whenever you choose without repercussion. Please, give me a chance to help you become independent and to see a man that won't take advantage of you. To learn that not all men must be feared. As I was saying about your sister, Janice, my auto mechanic needs an assistant. I need a new housekeeper, a gardener's apprentice and more. Each of you match a position I need filled. The girls under fifteen will be enrolled in the local school while the rest of you may take night classes so during the day you might work and receive a paycheck. Real money for real work."

Their sisters called out to Clara and Belinda. "There is so much food in the cabinets and fridge! Ice maker, we have ice whenever we want it!" "Clara, me and Sarah want the big pink room with the bunk beds and big doll house!" "Belinda, come see this! Oh my gods, a huge tub with a real shower in it!"

Lancel smiled and held out the contracts for the girls to look at.

"Tell you what. I will leave these and the folder of your documents with you as well as the handbook. Look it all over and feel free to stroll about and meet the staff. I shall visit with you later tomorrow and you can take a tour of the main house and the school the children would go into to. If you decide to still leave, you may. But the house will be yours to stay in until you feel ready to move on."

Before leaving, Lancel spoke to the younger children.

"Now, remember, take care not to disturb the toads, please. They just got back from an audience with the Queen of the Lilly pads." With round eyes the girls solemnly promised. The teenage girls followed Lancel to the door as if he were a pied piper and they were the rats. Clara blocked them from leaving and tiredly told the girls to show her around their freshly picked rooms.

 

The little girls shrieked while Clara and Belinda were enjoying their first chance to use good ingredients to make a meal. All the females went running to see the girls were not shrieking in terror but in joy.

They all looked in awe at the corner of the second staircase, directly under a stained glass window, in a small alcove. There was a doll house sized coat rack that was elaborately made. Hanging upon it was a small feathered turban and a tiny glittering shawl. Next to it was a long male cloak and tiny red scarf roguishly thrown across it. Helplessly, even Clara and Belinda smiled at the sight of it. 

"Shh...quiet, they audited the queen. They is sleeping. Shhh." Advised Mari as she clutched tight to her new dolly and stared at the tiny toad proof with shining enchanted eyes.  

Not an hour later, the teenagers were giving modeling shows of their new clothing that was just perfect in size. Clara worried and so did Belinda. They didn't believe in miracles. They didn't believe in Prince Charming or heroes.

However, no matter how many times they spent that night reading over the contracts, they couldn't find the flaw. Maybe this Lancel was truly just wanting servants and to help them out. Belinda looked over the print until her eyes hurt then looked up at Clara.

"We don't have any real better options." Clara nodded and sighed. "I know that. Let's just hope this man is as honorable as he says he is."

 

 

 

Chapter Text

All the warm hugs and kisses from Ned and the boys couldn't make up for the chill of goodbye with Cat.

She waited until Arya rolled out of the last male embrace before she snatched the girl from them like a hungry witch in a fairy tale. Standing tall in front of the slightly cowering Arya, Cat pierced her youngest daughter with a damning stare. Her hands lovingly swept through the untamed locks on Arya's head and her talons began to dig deep into the tender scalp until Arya whined. A tear spilled as the girl struggled not to react and Ned held tight to Sansa while muttering, "For gods sake, Cat! Can't you let her be this once? Don't let this be your way of saying goodbye."

Cat whipped her head so fast there was a cracking sound and her eyes bulged at Ned. Her voice was a sudden hiss that made the whole family wince. "Hug your daughters and let me take care of worry and discipline as I've always had to!" Without another word, Ned looked away angrily and the boys pretended they were on another planet. Turning her attention back to her distressed daughter, Cat gave Arya a thin smile and her voice was cold as snow and smoothly deceptive like black ice.

"Sweet, rebellious Arya. My dear, you simply must try and do better. Another report and visit like this will not do you any good at all. If Kevan doesn't see improvement or at least a talent soon, you will be deemed useless. Kevan doesn't like useless things and I don't either. He will marry you off to Joff if you don't smarten up, dear. And I won't be able to say no, not while Kevan has your sister in here. Not while he is going to mentor her, not while he is so close to Sansa. And though Cersei might hate it, she cannot deny her uncle's wishes. I understand that you don't wish to live by my rules or follow my path for your life. Well, your wish has been granted, dear. I am leaving you in Kevan's hands. I would become useful or smarter very soon, Arya."

A thin stream of blood came down Arya's forehead while the girl tried not to cry out. Ned cursed and released Sansa to forcibly remove Cat's hands from Arya's head. "Stop it! She is bleeding." Cat might have struck Ned, she looked close to it for a moment then Sansa said the magic words. "Mother, others can see. Please, they might see the blood and ask." With a brisk shiver, Cat seemed to become placid and she nodded frostily at her youngest daughter. "Try and do better, Arya. For your own good. I shall see you next visitors day. You may go tend to your minor scratch now."

Arya fled without a word or look at any member of her family. Robb and Bran looked after her sadly but said nothing. Ned and Cat stared at each other for a moment before the man looked away grimly.

Ned moved aside so that Sansa was in front of Cat. Stiff and insulted, he gestured to the boys and they left for their car, knowing better than to look back. 

 

Sansa stood taller than her mother and her eyes were steel but she showed deference in her face. Then her soft words registered.

"Go on, mother. Scalp me if you'd like." Audience or not, Cat couldn't allow that to stand and her hand came up fast to stroke lightly, lovingly across the bruise, opening stitches with her littlest talon. A tiny gasp but Sansa'simply faced her mother with a fake humble look. "I apologize for being rude, mother. It bothers me when you hurt us."

Cat stepped closer to her daughter to watch her flinch.

"I don't know what this game of yours is but I hope you know what you are doing, dear. I thought having to endure this place would be enough to make you see reason again. This rebel streak doesn't look good on you, Sansa. As I told you half a year ago, your attitude and new thinking that you know everything would lead you into disaster. I had hoped you would finally see reason. That you would understand what led to your downfall, to your sister's and others put here along with you. Sansa, you are partly responsible for deaths of some important people. Two children. Do you not think the other families feel you and your sister have your share of the blame in those deaths? Of their children being here?"

Sansa spoke in a deadpan tone. "Mother, I have accepted my guilt in that accident. I regret that I put my little sister in this position. I will never forgive myself for being part of so many deaths. I am aware of the shame I brought upon our family and I am sorry for it."

Cat's talons dug into Sansa's shoulders as her voice seared into her daughter's ear. 

"Heed me well, Kevan Lannister is not the man to mess with, to try and pull the wool over, Sansa. You are nowhere near his level, honey, you aren't even close to my level, never mind his. Stop your silly games, little girl, before you get truly hurt. I do not wish to lose you to Kevan, trust me, dear girl, please, trust me on this. You do not want his eye upon you. He will lure you right in and I assure you that if freedom was your goal, he is NOT freedom."

Sansa gave her mother a small smile. Her voice was respectful but cold and even.

"Mother, you are not freedom either. And besides, this is my home now. I will continue to get good grades, I will learn from the best teachers and mentors here. Isn't that why you sent me here? For the discipline and the discovery of my talents? Even my achievements do not satisfy you. I am sorry that I cannot please you. Please offer Uncle Petyr and cousin Robin my sincerest sympathies. Since I am not allowed to leave for the services."

Cat might have said or done more but Unella came by announcing that the gates were closing in ten minutes. Instead, Cat gave a final stern look to Sansa and walked out of the gates.

 

If the children thought they would have time to process their day, they were sorely mistaken. Kevan turned to the milling students and announced, "After supper tonight I would like the staff and children to assemble in Gregor's torch circle, please. We have some rather pressing issues we must address right away." The students groaned and so did the professors. No one protested in front of Kevan however.

Stannis and Tyrion filled their plates then sat down at the staff table, grumbling. "Why must we be involved in these antics? We did our parts, this doesn't do anything but upset poor Stannis for days!" Tyrion tried to soothe himself in one of Hot Pie's drinks. Unella sat down and everyone hunched over their meals defensive, clutching forks like weapons. She rolled her eyes at them and snapped out, "Because you are just as involved in the cover ups, you should be involved in all of it."

Gregor stared at her tray and muttered, "That isn't possible for you to eat. You'll make yourself sick." Unella snorted and dug in. "Watch me." They all watched her as they ate. A spinach and cheese quiche, tuna salad with extra pickles, a bowl of soup, three pieces of french toast and a cheeseburger were devoured. Unella proceeded to inhale the chocolate cake that was their desert.  Stannis slammed his fists upon the table. "A pox on you, woman!"

Raff raised his eyebrow. "Why do I have a feeling when I do that ultrasound, I'm going to hear twin heartbeats." Polliver scoffed. "With her appetite? Must be a full litter in there." Gregor paled and pointed a finger at Unella. "No! One! That is it, hear me?" Unella glared at Gregor. "As if I have an option in that?" Then she glared at Raff. "Thanks for that worry. I needed it." He smiled sweetly at her and smoothly responded, "Anything I can do to help a new mommy."

Unella and Raff tensed, staring hard at each other. Sandor moved out of the way just in time, as Unella started to wrestle Raff for his last three french fries. By coincidence, the exact number of fingers the nurse almost lost as Unella devoured the french fries. Sandor started to laugh at Gregor and taunted, "You are going to starve to death before she gives birth to your litter." Gregor knocked Sandor off the stool as Raff and Unella wrestled, Polliver and Tyrion betting Unella will win.

Stannis threw down his napkin, stood up and left for civilization.

 

Myranda was yawning but starting to wake up as she ate supper. Sitting between Jeyne and Hot Pie, she was filled in on the stressful but interesting day. They spoke softly, keeping a distance from the other students. Jeyne apologized to her friends for getting them in trouble over her foolish revenge plot. Hot Pie grinned and told her it was alright, he already was back in Kevan's good graces. Myranda gently smiled at Jeyne.

"I forgive you. I would have still been given the same awful job and would have still done what I did. And the punishment from Kevan is done. The punishment from Harold and Bob won't be a bag of laughs, but I'll get through it."

"What did you do?" Smirking bitterly at Hot Pie, Myranda said, "I bled out a disgusting pig." She gave details in a hush while Jeyne and Hot Pie listened, horrified but proud of their friend.  

The rest of the table was silent for the most part. None of the kids had anything to talk about to each other. They were stuck in their own thoughts, by the looks on their faces, nothing good. It was sinking in that none of them were leaving anytime soon. It sunk in deeply how they felt about their families, how their families felt about them. In spite of the good food, it was eaten mechanically, each child locked in their own torments.

They saw how far the staff would go to protect the school and favor or disfavor certain students. How they would easily cause a rift between their parents and themselves if need be. If they saw fit. Angry and feeling powerless, they ate and slowly left the table.

Hot Pie reminded the girls that they had to attend this farce so they only put away the food, leaving the rest for later. Jeyne and Myranda smirked, not only did they have a break before the drudgery of cleaning the kitchen, but justice was about to be served. Hot Pie grinned and said, "I love watching new students see Kevan's justice for the very first time. These idiots have no idea what this circle will be tonight. And it's about time that bitch paid for what she did to poor Sidebitch."

They tried to stay well behind the others as they all headed outdoors.

Polliver was twirling his baton and yelling orders. "Ducklings, any little feathered friend that needs to tinkle, do it now! Ten minutes and I better see ducklings in a row inside that circle! Flap those feathers and flip those flippers!" Jeyne, Myranda and Hot Pie skipped impulsively towards the circle as the others all fled to the bathrooms.

 

They skipped arm in arm like giddy children on their way to a fair with money. Polliver grinned at them and shook his head. "You three lose your brains?" He noted that Jeyne was allowing her friends to wrap their arm around hers. Looking up, he saw that Raff was seeing it as well. They skipped past both of them without a word, without noticing them. Unella dropped her jaw and Gregor sneered at his intended. "Regression, huh? Sure looks like your feral project is truly dead now."

Skipping past the snarling couple, Hot Pie and Myranda made sure that they skipped past Kevan, who was flanked again by his now somewhat rested duo. Harold and Bob's lips twitched as the odd trio went past. Kevan looked pleased, then he grew firm and snapped out, "Though I am very happy that you are all great friends and I support your loving joy of life...this is not a time for levity, children. Please line up for Polliver as he has no doubt ordered. Thank you.

Polliver suddenly grew a frown and barked out, "Ducklings in a row, move it. Are you all hopelessly deaf now or suffering from short term memory? Get the hell in that line, move, move! Being first doesn't mean you can wander about like brain dead duckies." The three tried hard to wipe smiles off their faces as they hurried to their places. Soon the others showed, some of them moving faster with some help from Polliver's baton.

Once the students were all in a row, Polliver strolling the line with his baton beating a song into his palm, Kevan looked to the staff.

Tyrion and Stannis had looks of stoic resignation upon their long faces. Raff had a sadistic gleam in his eye as did Polliver. Unella and Gregor had spiteful grins on their faces they were trying hard to hide. Sandor seemed to look as if he wanted to enjoy the justice but couldn't.

Kevan noted how each seemed to feel about this ritual of discipline. Most importantly,  he savored the fact that none of them dared to not show, regardless how they felt.

 

Everyone made a circle, including Harold and Bob. No one was asked to hold hands or touch one another, just to stand in a circle. Kevan stood in the center of it and folded his hands behind his back. As he spoke, he made sure to walk slowly about so that everyone got the benefit of catching his eye at some point.

"We have distasteful business to attend to, students. I find that distasteful things are best done in the dark, among only ourselves and done quickly but correctly. So let us get straight to it then. I ask that you all note that Damon has not joined our circle. That is because Damon is in the clinic and will never know of this meeting tonight. Sadly, our doctor had to use a mix of shock therapy and a cocktail of strong drugs to make our poor boy believe everything including the Tickler was all a drug fueled nightmare induced by a story Joff and Ramsay told him after drugging him. And everyone here will make sure that Damon continues to see that as truth. We shall help him understand that Sansa's face injury and shoulder dislocation was from a dirt bike."

Glares and mutters were directed at Sansa. Ramsay and Joff kept going between staring hostilely at Sansa and Kevan.

A sharp clap of his hands and everyone went silent, looking at Kevan. "If any student tells Damon anything but the truths we have given him, I promise that student shall be found and will regret it deeply. Very deeply." He looked grimly at each of them before nodding.

"It is regretful when we must all tell a lie but some of our bad apples decided to make that necessary for all of us to join into their disgusting schemes." Kevan resumed pacing then spun around, spreading out his arms. "But...we DID our part, didn't we? We told the lies we must to keep our school, our students safe. Now, since we did our part in paying for their crimes, I think it's time the criminals paid their price for the crimes. Don't you?"

A rousing cry came from Hot Pie, Myranda, Jeyne and Arya. Loras pursed his lips and squeezed Sansa's hand quick, whispering, "Remember why we suffer now." Without changing her blank expression, Sansa responded back dryly, "Except it's me doing all the suffering, not you."

 

With a nod from Kevan, Polliver grinned then pointed his baton, tapping each duckling on the head. "Oscar, Princess and Death Row, waddle on forward."

 

Chapter Text

Sansa, Joff and Ramsay all stepped forward. Unella moved to stand behind Sansa, Gregor behind Ramsay and Polliver stood next to Joff, smirking at him.

Kevan gave the three of them an icy stare. His voice was nearly stage theatric and yet hypnotic all at once.

Arya had the stray thought that it was like hearing one of those motivational speakers. Part of you knows their full of shit but another half is nearly convinced because the speaker sounds so damned convinced. Arya felt pretty conflicted herself right now. Half of her wanted to see Sansa's nose finally rubbed in the dirt. The perfect girl was finally caught at something. Plus, the something Sansa did was horrible! Arya knew that Sansa needed to pay for doing that to poor Damon.

The other half of her knew her sister was thrown off balance by the visit. That Sansa did what she did out of being trapped, out of true conviction that it could help her to be free. Arya had no clue what they might do to her.

She cast an eye at Cuntella, shuddering. How can that woman sleep at night? And now she is marrying Gregor, pregnant with probably some deformed mutant that will be afraid of fire. Wincing at a quick rapping of knuckles on her head, Arya looked at Raff, who hissed for her to pay attention. She did and fell under the terrible spell of Kevan's words, torch light and maybe a touch of group hysteria.

 

 Kevan stood before his three naughty students and spoke with a rich terrible voice. A cultured lion that must force his pack to do something regretful but must be done for the sake of the den.

"Traditions are important. When we have a situation that must be handled by our community it is always in a circle. When the entire school is forced to cover up things for poor decisions of a student. When we have to pay a price for that student's actions, that student must pay a price back to us all, to your community."

Sweeping the three of them with the same ruthless eyes, Kevan ordered, "Each of you will remove your clothes. Sansa, you may leave on your bra and underpants. Boys will leave on their boxer shorts. All of you will put your socks and shoes back on. We wouldn't want any of you to step on a sharp rock and hurt yourselves. Strip now, please."

Sansa gasped. She mentally tried to stop herself but seeing her mother today has weakened her. With too little time to prepare, Sansa just slipped and as if she were damned Arya, her mouth opened. "I will not take off my clothing in public!"

Kevan gave a small nod, looking at Unella and Sansa's clothes were being removed. The doctor has spent years learning how to remove clothing from fighting patients. Sansa struggled only for a second then saw it was only making her look worse.

Ramsay started to take off his clothes, staring at Kevan with resentment and hatred the whole time. Polliver moved towards Joff, who shrieked, "Don't touch me! I'm doing it!"

A small giggle escaped from Myranda then she saw Harold and Bob each turn slightly, mirrored glasses hid eyes marking her. She went silent and nodded when Stannis, who was next to her, whispered that there was no reason for humor.

When each of them were wearing nothing but their underwear and shoes, Kevan addressed them again. "Well, stand up straight, chin up, legs apart, arms at your sides, eyes front on me. If you are ready to commit the crime, you had always best be ready to face it if you are caught."

Unella used her hand to sharply tilt Sansa's chin up, Polliver used his baton poke into Joff's spine to straighten his back and Gregor kicked Ramsay's legs apart.

Surveying the three unnerved and half naked students, Kevan gave a slight smile that was sweet with malice.

 

"Traditions are important and so is history. This school is full of both...no matter the years, the different staff and different students. History does tend to repeat itself on occasion. I wonder if it would interest you three to know that your very own parents have stood in this circle? Oh yes, well, not all at the same time, but let's see...it was Cat and Cersei at the same time. Interesting, Lannister and Stark somehow always ended up in hell together time and time again.  But Roose and Bethany were first to face our circle. Back then, we did things differently. We could be firmer, harsher and oh, we were if needed!"

Kevan began to pace around the circle to include everyone in his words. "Oh yes, we made sure that when the price was paid, it was in a bit of bloody coin. In a way they wouldn't easily forget such important lessons. So that the school itself could be satisfied that justice was served." He gave a graceful, almost dancing spin to turn and face Unella. "Who would have been the doctor here then, Unella?" With a cold smirk, she replied, "Doctor Qyburn, Sir."

Tapping his pen against his chin now, other hand in his pocket, Kevan was now striding about and his eyes nearly twinkled.

"That's right, Qyburn. Thank you, doctor. Yes, he had a unique way for us to punish the students. You see, you have to wear your crime, accept it, atone for it...in flesh. Now, back then, we were able to be so much more creative about it. Qyburn would use metal staple to spell the letters out on the stomachs. We would leave it in and Qyburn would keep it from infection for as long as possible. Then remove the stitches or staples just as the skin could take no more itching, burning and swelling. Most times, the word would be still partially scarred into the skin for a long time, if not forever. But, alas, we cannot use those techniques any longer."

Kevan faced the three very pale nervous students and his smile was gone, wiped away. His eyes held an ancient old belief of the rod and they all squirmed slightly as he lighting tapped his pen upon his hand.

"That was a mercy I suppose to my mind, to the whole staff, to our generation. You see before Qyburn joined us, it was my very first season of opening the school, I had used even harsher methods. I used a very fine blade and wrote in lovely script, deep enough so that the cuts would scar for certain. Of course, we are a modern, progressive school and always change to accommodate the times."

A smile brightened Kevan's face like the sun and a reassuring smile grew like a sunflower. His voice boomed out, "A black marker, please!" With a scowl, Stannis produced a marker reluctantly. The way he came forward to hand it to Kevan, reminded Tyrion of a king being forced to relinquish a kingdom. Kevan gave a sharp smirk to the professor and grandly thanked him as Stannis marched back to his place.

Raising the marker high, Kevan flourished it about to all before turning to shine his smile again upon the three students.

"This will not bleed you, it will not cut or scar your flesh. But it is permanent marker and it will stain upon your skin for some time. Hopefully, when it does fade away, the lesson will not. Because if the same circle must ever be held again for you, for the same reason...I will have Gregor tattoo the words into your flesh and that also won't bleed but it will never leave."

 

Kevin had put his pen back in his pocket, the gold winking playfully in the torch light. He pointed the black marker at Sansa, who felt Unella's strong hands take hold of her shoulders. Gritting her teeth, Sansa stared blankly at Kevan, forcing herself to be calm, to accept. It was just humiliation and Sansa can deal with it. The eyes on her was the hardest part, everyone judging her as if they had a right to.

"Let's start with you, dear. What words shall we write upon your lovely stomach? What slurs will mar your perfect skin? What do you deserve, Sansa? We shall examine this question."

He walked away from her, twirling the marker in his fingers, as if in deep consideration of it. Stopping near Raff, Kevan looked up and gestured towards the therapist. "Nurse and therapist of both Damon and Sansa, aren't you, Raff?" Nodding, Raff spoke firmly, staring at Sansa with clear disgust.

"Yes, I am. Damon has been tested and found to be mentally incompetent. He is easily led and manipulated. Sansa tests very high. She is intelligent, clever and has full mental capacity to understand what she does and why she does it."

Kevan strolled over to Tyrion, who closed his eyes momentarily then sighed and looked up at the man. Kevan smiled at his nephew and inquired, "Since Damon has arrived, have you noticed any change in his reading and writing levels?" Tyrion did look somberly at Sansa as he spoke with some reluctance.

"Yes. Damon could barely read at all when he started here. Since then his work got substantially better, he became enthused, driven to try harder. There is really no way that Damon could have learned that well on his own. I asked Damon about this change and he told me he had a secret teacher. He sounded like he worshiped this person. Not in a love sort of way or a sexual way, he appreciated and trusted this person. Wanted to do better for this person to be proud of him, he said." 

Sansa flushed as everyone gave her hard eyes, even her kind professors flashed disappointment at what she had done. Her own little sister was looking revolted, not even looking at her at all. Lifting her chin higher, she fiercely reminded herself to not cry, to keep her hands relaxed at her sides.

Kevan paced around the circle again, tapping, tapping the marker against his hand then stopped right before Sandor who scowled instantly. "Sandor! As our landscaper, estate manager, you tend to become easily overlooked at you tend to our lovely school. An admirable job but rarely noticed by the students. Can you tell me what you have observed concerning Sansa and Damon?" Huffing, Sandor spoke with clear annoyance at having to do so.

"I saw Sansa teaching Damon to read some demented horror kid book while I was working near the window of their bedroom. One time, I was repairing a fence and Damon was telling Loras about how Sansa was his one real friend and begging him to keep it quiet. Heard Damon say that Sansa wanted it to stay a secret. I was in the garden when I saw and heard Damon tell Ramsay they couldn't be friends anymore. Every reason he gave he said Sansa told him. Not that I want to give a sadistic mental case any support, but I heard Ramsay warn Damon that Sansa lies and would hurt him. And I heard that poor big bugger tell Ramsay that he trusted Sansa, that she was the only person who truly cared about him and wouldn't use him." 

Sansa was blinking rapidly to keep the stinging tears away and her face was red, her hands fisted at her sides. The eyes upon her felt like lasers and knowing the hate and disgust the eyes would show...she looked only at each accuser and Kevan. Shame built in waves, hearing it from others was awful and Sansa tried to hold on to her rage. How dare they judge her, she didn't want to hurt Damon, doesn't that count for anything? Sansa has a feeling that Kevan isn't going to allow her a defense.

 

Kevan began to walk back around the circle and used his marker to gesture as he spoke. "So. What does all this lead to? Sansa tutored Damon, built up his confidence, that's grooming. Fully aware that the boy was mentally impaired, Sansa lured him, encourage him to distance himself from the only other influence in his life. Then Sansa drugged him, seduced him knowing the boy was unable to truly consent or deny her. What do we call this in it's base form?"

Giving Sansa a dark scowl, Kevan announced in a damning voice. "In it's base form, I would call it rape. That makes you, Sansa Stark, a rapist."

Sansa bit her lip to keep from protesting, but her body trembled as he uncapped the marker.

Turning to address the circle and the boys, showing the felt tip of the marker to all, Kevan lamented, "Now, I will acknowledge that our normal punishment for rape would be handled by the Tickler. Sadly, he was given the wrong prey. And I will tell you that a very strong urge to give Sansa to the Tickler is within me. I would dearly love to be fully equal by allowing us to watch the Tickler come and drag her kicking and screaming from our circle. But we mustn't. We cannot. It's all part of our price we pay to keep things steady for us all. So this must suffice."  

Sansa felt Unella grab her arms and put them behind her back. She was careful to give no resistance and Unella's movements were firm but not painful, only confining. Staring up at the dark sky and the moon, Sansa felt the cold wet tip of the marker carefully write on her stomach just above her belly button. Kevan was slow and careful then stepped away. "Look at what you've become, dear." 

Taking a very deep breath, Sansa looked down at her stomach and gave a tiny sob.

RAPIST

Chapter Text

Kevan admired the word on Sansa's stomach then said, "Now, if you would just stand here and let the group admire your word while I deal with our young boys."

Saying nothing, Sansa stood tall and thought, at least it's over. They will stare and mock and then turn their attention to Ramsay and Joff. Then it will end. She kept repeating that to herself. A flash in her head of what Kevan had said, about her mother standing in this very circle, undressed and with a word stapled on her stomach. Wondering what word her mother earned helped Sansa ignore her shameful situation.

Kevan walked over to the boys and surveyed them. Both looked back with a mixture of anger and nervous vague respect. Capping the marker and twirling it between his fingers, he spoke sternly.

"Let me make this very clear. I am aware that you boys, as well as Theon and Arya, were drinking and doing drugs. I am aware those drugs came from Sansa, who received them from Jeyne. I will leave those disciplines to Polliver to deal with. That is his domain, that is his responsibility. That is NOT what I am putting you in a circle and naming you for. Oh no...the circle is for serious offenses only. For offenses so grave that I must take my own personal time to come deal with you. So grave that I must assemble both staff and students because of a bad apple's terrible choices."

Theon paled and fidgeted next to Loras, who sternly poked him. Arya felt a bit sick to her stomach as Polliver pointed at her and Theon then drew a finger across his throat while grinning.  

Spreading his arms out,  Kevan gestured to Ramsay and Joff who looked quite bored and unimpressed.

"It was made clear to each student what stories we should tell of Damon and Sansa. It was made clear that only what was relevant to your studies and growth here should be discussed with visitors. This was your one chance since your fall from grace for you to prove to your parents why they should not give up on you. This was your one chance to maybe try and bond with your parent, to gain comfort or give reason for them to be proud of you. Instead, you two chose to use your precious little time you had with them to try and tattle on every little thing you could. Like true small spiteful children,  grumpy, privileged, sniveling brats, both of you just complained, gossiped and tried very hard to find ways to get our school into trouble."

Turning around to face the other students, giving a sad, regretful sigh, Kevan showed his long frown, his eyes shadowed with disappointment.

  "Sansa committed a dreadful crime and we have named her a rapist...in marker. Because even though it was a dreadful thing, she admitted it, she felt some regret and shame for her actions. Above all else, we are a therapeutic school in an age of reckless mercy. So we could show Sansa that mercy. Ramsay and Joff have no regrets, have no shame in their actions. We must work harder to make sure that they understand how grave it is to try and snitch upon their community. We must protect and support each other and this school."

 

Kevan walked about the circle, making eye contact with each student. "This is your home, you are not leaving until I allow you to leave. And I can assure you, it won't be for some time before I release a single one of you back into society, if ever. So we all keep our secrets, we support each other and we keep others out of our business. Ramsay and Joff simply must understand this lesson. First, they must understand that they truly are snitches. So..."

He gave a small sharp nod and suddenly Ramsay was restrained by Gregor while Joff was restrained by Polliver. Both men had the boys arms pulled behind their backs then quickly cuffed. Kevan smiled sweetly at the group then at the boys and his voice was cloying syrup. 

"Do you recall that old saying, boys? Snitches get stitches."

Gregor held Ramsay still but the boy did no more than growl as Unella came to use thick black thread on his stomach. While the woman slowly began the word, he winced, grunted in a few places, but he stared at Sansa, at her word, until Unella was done. Kevan clapped briefly and gestured toward the grim circle then to Ramsay's new word. SNITCH 

Joff struggled and then wailed a few times as Unella calmly and carefully stitched the same ugly black threads into the word. Kevan shook his head a few times at Joff during the procedure.

"This is shameful, you are a Lannister boy. Man up, just some stitches, we aren't performing surgery on you!" It took Unella longer since the boy kept squirming and twitching away. Joff bore the same word, but his was crooked and bolder, even worse looking than Ramsay's. As soon as the words were stitched, the restraints were removed from their wrists.

Ramsay and Joff were shoved to stand next to Sansa in a line again. All three bore their new degrading label upon their stomachs. Kevan had given Stannis his marker back and was now twirling his gold pen again.

"We have a rapist and two snitches. Now my family, my community, my staff and students, we have measured them, judged them and labeled them. They are forced to admit what they are, it is reminded to them every time they look down. We shall bear the sight of the word on them so we are all aware that this is what they are, we shall keep watch to see they do not stay as these terrible labels in the future."

Kevan got a serious look on his face, a look of a lion ready to eat his own young son for the sake of his pride.

"Now we must do the hardest part for us. We have named them for what they are. So they must meet atone for what they have done. And I have picked those who will administer the punishments with great care."

 

Polliver stepped over so he stood behind both Ramsay and Joff as Gregor headed for Sansa.

In alarm, the girl took a step backwards only to encounter Unella. It took all of Cat's lifelong and painful training for Sansa not to shriek or struggle when the giant man grabbed her braid and dragged her by it. Cheerfully, Gregor informed her, "Don't cry yet, sweetie. I'm not the one administering your punishment, just setting you up for it. But between the two of us, you'll wish it was only me once Unella gets started on you."

Sansa was stiff with fear as Gregor knocked her to the dirt in a rectangle between four deeply driven wooden poles. He took a handful of leather restraints and padded cuffs from the back of his belt and she bit her lips hard enough for it to bleed. She stayed still and stared at the sky above her as she felt the cuffs wrap around her wrists and ankles. She felt the leather restraints threaded through the metal buckle of the cuffs, that fast almost painful sound of leather forced hard past steel.

Taking deep breaths, Sansa didn't make a sound when first her arms were pulled and stretched so the leather was tightly lashed to the poles. Still staring up at the moon, she felt Gregor pulling her legs apart further and further to tether them. She thought she probably looked like a sacrifice left by natives for the beast of some movie. A gasp came out of her when Sansa felt her legs not only pulled as far out as they could go, but then upwards. 

She found her ass was slightly lifted up, then some more and Gregor quickly added an extra leather strap to each leg. Sansa's thigh on each side was strapped to the poles as well as her ankles. Her top half flat in the dirt and her lower half raised and spread. Opened, exposed, except for the thin fabric of underwear and all of them could see it. Don't struggle, don't fight, don't give the satisfaction, Sansa warned herself as she stared up, frozen.

Swiftly, Gregor placed a rolled towel under Sansa's neck so her head raised and she could see right between her legs. To see her horrified sister, to see the glittering hard eyes of the feral, the whore and the cook. She felt her face scald to see her two professors both trying to look anywhere but at her. Gregor blocked the view mercifully for a second as he spread a thick towel underneath her hovering bottom. 

Then he was gone and Sansa tried to look at anything but those eyes that were looking at her. The view was blocked again but this time it brought no relief, only increased fear. Unella was toweringly tall standing between Sansa's legs, holding only a bottle of water and a dirty wrapped wad of cloth that clinked when moved. The woman was brought a small stool by Gregor and she squatted upon it. Unella spoke in a cold matter of fact voice as she quickly worked.

Sansa let a tiny sound out as she felt Unella cut off her underwear as the words sunk deep into her ears and head. 

"It is more often found that a man is the rapist. When society is at it's most base or when we feel justice cannot be achieved for the victims any other way, women act, women react. In most societies, women favor castration in some form or another for the male rapist. Whether it be a removal of testicles, penis or the entirety of those parts. Of course, the women don't use sanitary means to do this, it is a heat of the moment sort of thing. It is raw justice. So what if the rapist is a woman, Sansa?"

 

Unella looked into Sansa's panicked eyes and spoke with a ruthless voice that matched her stone face.

"We know that some cultures believe in female castration, genital mutilation. Now, most do it out of an ill informed ignorant reason, but it is what we have to go with. Our reason is for justice. Usually there is a similar lack of medical knowledge and lack of sanitary means in the areas that most commonly do this to their females."

Sansa was hyperventilating as Unella reached down then began to hold items up while speaking.

"This bottle of water shall serve as our only protection and cleansing of your private areas and my hands. These are the most commonly used items for the removal of the clitoris and minor cutting back of the labia. A sharp piece of metal, this curved piece of glass or here we have an old rusty but sharpened razor. If you have a preference, speak up. Now, another thing that these women endure is the further stitching up to make themselves tighter, harder for men to enter. That way the man has to really nearly rape a woman just to get in her. Some cultures like that sort of thing. It can cause serious issues for the female as you can imagine. How long do you think before your first serious urinary infection sets in? This is a long sewing needle and some twine for the stitching. Shall we begin?"

Cold water spilled between her legs, Sansa felt the shock of it on her vagina, trickling down her ass, pattering onto the dirt. And she broke. Screaming, thrashing as she felt Unella's bare hands touching her. Unella's voice was calm and rode over Sansa's wailing protests. "No gloves either, but I did do you the courtesy of washing my hands before coming to the circle."

Arya found herself trying to run forward, to yell but Sandor's large hand suddenly was wrapped around most of her face. He bent down and rumbled into her ear. "Do you want to make it worse for her? Or just trying to get yourself added to the punishment circle? How will that help your sister? Shut up and stay still. Save your own skin for once. Polliver will be coming for you soon enough. How much more pain would you like to give yourself? Stupid fucker."

 

Sansa felt Unella's fingers harshly pull at her flesh, exposing tender things and then a sharp pain. Tears scalded, bile rose to burn in Sansa's throat and she lost total control, she felt herself urinate as she screeched.

"NO, NO PLEASE! I AM SORRY, I AM SO SORRY THAT I RAPED DAMON! PLEASE, DON'T CUT ME DOWN THERE! DON'T MUTILATE ME! PLEASE, I WILL DO ANYTHING, I AM SO SORRY, PLEASE!"

Another sharp pain, a pinch and tug that was awful, it was causing Sansa to sob like a baby and screech like a madwoman. Then Unella stood up and Sansa couldn't believe the woman's hands weren't slick with her blood. That Unella wasn't holding Sansa's bloody clitoris in her hand. 

"Calm yourself, rapist. All I have done was give you a rather shallow cut on your clitoris that will sting but will heal. And I have only added one stitch for you to have removed. But you will be amazed at how must difficulty that stitch can give you. If you ever are caught doing anything sexually inappropriate again, rapist, I will truly give you the full stitching and remove your clitoris. This is your only warning."

Unella picked up her items and walked away. Sansa was left there, still tethered, her injured flesh for all to stare at, as if she was discarded trash.

Chapter Text

Ramsay and Joff both stared intently at Sansa's half naked sobbing spread out form until Gregor got in their faces.

"Hey there, boys. I know that it isn't often you guys get to see a naked woman writhing and weeping anymore...but stop tenting your shorts and start paying attention. Nanny Gregor himself is going to help you both travel the road of where snitches can land. Isn't that just a lovely thing, my two little demented serial killers in training?"

Gregor's face grew into a stunning Santa Claus of merry understanding but his teeth and eyes looked much more like that of the infamous Krampus. He put his hands in the air, splayed out his arms and announced, "I'm going to tell you both a little story! I am not the storyteller or speech giver that Kevan is but I'm not as emotionless as Unella. But I hope you both pay attention, it's important."

As he spoke, Gregor walked towards his usual punishment chair. Polliver steered Joff to follow and Raff guided Ramsay, who was glaring hard at the giant man's back the whole time.

"Before I came here to counsel and care for troubled youth such as you two, I was a man no one ever wished to run into. Those who crossed the wrong people, those who borrowed too much money from the wrong lenders and those who snitched on the wrong enemy, they ran into me. I offered my clients three choices. I can scare, I can torture and I can kill. Any combo of the three was fine by me."

Gregor turned around and tossed Joff into the chair while Polliver quickly added the wrist and head restraints. Smiling, Gregor put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small black bag.

"Now when it came to snitches, most wanted the snitch killed. But not always, not if the snitch happens to be important or in your case, rich sniveling little boys that have a parent who still actually cares a bit. The snitches that got to live, some were beaten, others branded or just scared until they shit their pants...broken jaws or at least something broken. Teeth yanked out or some nice acid on the face. But one thing that I did to every snitch, was make sure they couldn't use their words to ever snitch again. You need a tongue to speak words, right?"

 

Before Joff could do more than holler, Gregor's thick thumbs pressed hard on either side of Joff's jaw. Screeching in pain, the boy's mouth opened wide and thick fingers dug hard into his tongue, yanking it out of his mouth, pulling on it. Gregor held the tongue with one hand as his other held up a severely curved sharp hook that attached to a very slender chain.

"I can't remove your tongues and I can't slit your tongues straight up the middle as far as I can go. I always did one or the other. But your parents are coddling and Kevan is a merciful man. So we shall go with a much gentler, modified version. And for at least a little while, the snitches can feel what really happens in the big man world when a person snitches."

Joff screamed as the sharp hook dug into the thickest part of his tongue and was worked through the other side. Very slowly, inching and only gently tugging, Gregor drew the silver chain through the hole of pink meat. A careful last tug and Joff's tongue was now leashed and held by the large hand.

"Sorry about going slow and really digging through but I have to be careful, sweet Princess. Don't want to tear your tongue apart, we want this to heal and scar nicely. I am going to have Polliver take off your restraints now. If I were you, I would be really careful about any fast moves." Gregor held the chain taut, forcing Joff to keep his tongue stretched out of his mouth. Polliver removed the restraints and stepped away but Joff didn't dare move.

Gregor beckoned to Joff with his free hand. "Stand up slowly, carefully. I'll help you." With a large hand wrapped around Joff's arm, he helped the boy to stand up, slackening the chain as need be. Once Joff was fully upright, Gregor dropped the boy's arm but started to walk backwards, the chain in Joff's tongue slowly pulling the boy forth. With a whimper and a sob, Joff unwillingly stepped quickly to follow Gregor.

Joff followed his tongue and it's leash to a pole close to where Sansa lay.

He watched in wide eyed horror as Gregor raised the hook and chain to the very top of the post. There was a ring for Gregor to link the hook into and he securely wrapped the extra length of chain around the post until Joff was nearly on tiptoe, clutching the post for support and balance. Joff had to keep his tongue extended, drool already dribbling down his neck, already straining. With a humiliating spank to Joff's ass, Gregor walked away.

 

Ramsay glared at Gregor and then calmly sat himself down in the chair while Polliver put the restraints on. He stuck out his tongue and winced in silence as Gregor did the same procedure. Gregor did manage to get Ramsay to cry out once when he added an extra tug as the boy stood up.

"Tough little shit, aren't you? That's okay, snitch. One lesson at a time. Come on, follow your leash, rabid bitch."

Ramsay's eyes flared with hatred but he followed faster to a pole on the opposite side of Joff, Sansa on the ground between them. Once Ramsay was secured by his outstretched tongue to the pole, Gregor gave his ass an even harder smack. Gregor chuckled at Ramsay's growl and walked away. Kevan nodded at Gregor as the man walked to stand next to Unella in the circle.

Kevan fidgeted with the pen as he walked forward, his face grave, stern. He walked past the grotesque trio of the disgraced and turned to stare at each them one by one. Sansa's pale face and shuddering body, Joff's sobbing and whining, it pleased him. Ramsay was staring at Kevan hatefully, a soft growl deep in his throat. Clasping his hands behind his back, Kevan walked over to Ramsay.

Raising out his hand, Ramsay gave Kevan the middle finger. Polliver muttered, "Oh buddy, never tell Kevan to go fuck himself." Tyrion sighed and shook his head at the stupid Bolton boy and Stannis shut his eyes, groaning.

Kevan moved so fast that Ramsay barely saw it. One strong hand was wrapped around Ramsay's fist, the middle finger still stuck in the air.

Kevan's other hand wielded the pen, the razor end of it bared and stabbing deftly into Ramsay's finger. It easily opened the flesh and Kevan drew it down slowly, opening it to glistening bone. Now there was a reaction that pleased him as Ramsay screamed and hugged the pole with his one hand left, as to not yank his tongue out in thrashing agony.

"Hate me all you choose, boy. But you'll look at me with respect and you'll show me respect or I'll skin you alive like one of your own victims."  

 

Kevan looked at the students in the circle. "I am sorry that you all had to witness this and that you had to be drawn into their crimes. It is almost curfew, you are dismissed from the circle now. These three will be spending the night in their restraints." All of the children fled, even Arya, who was yanked along by Loras and Theon.

After they saw the students leave, Kevan turned to look at the staff.

"Unella, please sew up Ramsay's finger and leave water and lollipop sponges here. Gregor, tie something around the poles, their waists and shoulders in case they faint, don't want their tongues ripped out by accident. Then you two may leave, after all, you have a house to fix up and a wedding to plan, don't you?"

Kevan smiled at their flinching and looked over to Stannis and Tyrion, the smile turned upside down.

"As much as I know you value your downtime and gaming, you'll both be staying here tonight. I expect that your morals and ethics will help ensure that you correctly care for the disciplined children. You will use the sponges to keep their mouths from drying out, see to it that they don't hurt themselves. Watch to make sure no wounds need Unella's attention. Oh, Gregor can leave you some buckets and washcloths in case they soil themselves."

Turning away, Kevan walked over to Polliver. "Get your ducklings in order. Any more drugs go missing, you and I will be speaking on it. Go." Polliver headed off fast to find Theon and Arya.

Kevan beckoned to Raff who walked over, eyes down. "Yes, Sir?" Kevan gave Raff an icy look. "I assume that Jeyne is still without her tracker?" Raff cleared his throat and nervously nodded. "That will be remedied by you tonight. And since Polliver will have his hands full disciplining other ducklings, you may also deal with Jeyne's part in stealing drugs. Now." He watched in satisfaction as Raff ran towards the clinic to get a new tracker.

Sandor sighed silently when Kevan set his eyes upon him next.

"Sandor, that was very gallant of you to stop that girl from speaking. I also appreciate you speaking up tonight in testimony even though it is clear you disapprove of our ways. I think you might not think that way if you got more involved around here. As you have said, being the landscape allows you to see others differently. Let's see if it can help you in other ways. As of tomorrow morning, you are the new mentor of Arya Stark. Maybe if you had to have the same pressure as the rest of the staff with students, you might see things a little differently. You are dismissed from circle."  

 

 Another turn and Kevan faced Harold and Bob. He walked over to stand directly in front of them and he spread out his arms. With a gentle friendly voice, Kevan addressed them.

"Bob. Harold. My two best men, my stand up guys, my twins of terror. You were my two superstars, weren't you? Both of you graduated from my classes over twenty years ago and have been with me ever since. I feel truly blessed in my work every time I look at you both. I know, you are both human and humans make mistakes, we all do. But it has been a very long time since you two have made such a big, very big mistake. I paid a good amount of money for Locke to transport, clothe and feed those ladies. I paid even more when Lancel was too kindhearted and offered them all a place at Casterly Rock! Thank the gods most of them have a skill to put to good use there. And I had to pay even more to cover up two dead bodies, one of whom was a well known rich man. We are just lucky that Craster was so disgusting to all, that no one cares where he went and few knew he even had daughters at all."

Both men offered apologies and Kevan raised his hand which caused both to go silent instantly.

"I know you are both sorry. No need to repeat that. And the cost of all of that is coming out of your paychecks. That part is dealt with. Here is what concerns me, gentlemen. Myranda is very useful to me and she has always been extremely complaint. She is certain that obedience and plying her skill is the way to her eventual freedom. And I have plans that will involve her to be exactly what I promised she will be. So please keep in mind that though Myranda must be punished for killing a client and for not speaking up about Jeyne, I want my complaint, pretty whore back. Remember that little Myranda, my kitten with claws, has always been one of my favorite gifts from you both. I am quite fond of Myranda and want you both to take great care with her from this moment onward. Besides, after caring for her for so long, I can't imagine you two aren't close enough to her for you to know exactly how to reach her."

 

 

Chapter Text

Hot Pie watched as Jeyne and Myranda cleaned faster than they ever had before. He winced at the crashing and breaking of a few things as the girls did more damage than chores.

Both tried to wash trays and pans, get the dishwasher to move faster, mop the floors while sweeping them at the same time then the girls fought over who would bring the trash out. Sighing, Hot Pie yelled, "I will bring the trash out! And if Raff happens to sedate me accidentally with a rifle or Bob and Harold ask me if a particular rag smells like chloroform, I'll be happy for it! I can't take anymore drama tonight. I'm too tired for it and that shit I had to witness tonight...ugh..."

In spite of what he said, Hot Pie didn't really mean it. He assumed that if any of the men were lurking about for the girls, it would be clear that he wasn't their target. So he nearly shrieked in shock when a hand covered his mouth and pulled him into the shadows. Hot Pie was pressed against the tree next to the dumpster and he saw it was Raff that grabbed him.

"Polliver wants you to go inside and get drinks for Stannis and Tyrion. They will need it. They have to stay with Ramsay, Sansa and Joff tonight in the circle. Make sure to mention to the professors that Polliver sent you. By the way, I have locked the cafeteria door and I'm following you into the back door and locking it. Use your key to bring those drinks out the back, but not if Jeyne is near the kitchen."

Myranda looked up from her argument with Jeyne over who should try and leave first and yelled for the girl to duck. Jeyne didn't move in time and she slumped to the freshly mopped floor. "Fuck." Myranda flew to the door and found it locked. "Uh uh, nope." She ran to the back door and yanked on it then yelled at Hot Pie. "You have a key, open this!" Hot Pie continued making drinks and said dryly, "Raff has to carry her out of here, right? Well, when he leaves, go behind him and then run."

Raff didn't seem to care overly much as Myranda followed behind him as he carried the sedated feral over his shoulder. "Go on and hide. Just remember, the harder you make it for Bob and Harold to find you, the worse it'll be when they catch you. Good luck, Whore!"

He chuckled as Myranda fled then he hurried to the clinic as Jeyne began to moan, stirring slightly.

 

Bob and Harold walked slowly as they followed the direction that they saw Myranda run. They were silent, walking in rhythm as always, thinking similar thoughts as always. Bob spoke first.

"I am fond of Myranda. One of our best projects. Her attitude and actions, her little rebellions always amuse me. I understand why she was pushed too far, I understand why she killed Craster. We went the wrong way to punish her."

Harold nodded as they walked.

"I am fond of the girl too. One of our greatest gifts for Kevan and she has always reaped great rewards for us. And I have always enjoyed her spark. I agree, we went too far down the wrong road. We tried to let her punishment come from an intolerable environment rather than from us personally. I also hope that Myranda knows we are fond of her, that she is still our special girl. That we intend to make sure that she is disciplined by her supportive and loving mentors from now on."

With a rather wolfish grin, Bob chuckled.

"I agree. Let's go get Myranda and show her that we care enough to be personally involved."

 

Theon and Arya stood next to each other against the wall in the common room where Polliver ordered them to go. They watched as Polliver set two small bottles down on the old scarred coffee table. Then he began to whack his baton in his palm as he paced before the two students.

"My poor delusional bad little ducklings! Don't you know that drugs are bad for ducklings? I mean, I can understand sneaking a bit of liquor or scoring a joint somewhere...it's a thing, a phase all teens go through. Yes. However, that isn't ONLY what you did. Buying and using drugs from the clinic. That is very big no no. Don't you know that drugs are addictive? Dangerous? Oh, my sweetlings, my furry fucked up little friends, we must have a lesson in why we say no to drugs."

Polliver pointed his baton at the children then at the bottles on the table. "One bottle for each of you. It's drugs! Since you like drugs so much, I had Raff whip you up a special drug potion for you two. Drink it down fast then back against the wall. Now."

With true reluctance both Arya and Theon took the bottles and grimaced at the scent. Then downed the bottles, coughing and gagging afterwards. Polliver chuckled as they staggered against the wall, trying not to throw up. "Good ducklings. Don't throw it up or I'll make you just take it a different way."

Waiting to make sure they would hold it down, Polliver smiled at them. "Now, repeat after me, ducklings. Drugs are bad. Drugs make you sick." Theon and Arya both echoed Polliver and he made them say it four more times for good measure. Nodding, Polliver twirled his baton.

"Very good. Now, you will both clean the common room floor, hallways, staircase, this entire room, polish the coffee table, wash the windows, I want every area that is not a bedroom shining before morning. And you may have some trouble with it but I know you will get the job done somehow. Just remember, as I told you, drugs make you sick. Get cleaning and remember, house must shine and drugs make you sick."

Polliver went to the storage closet and began tossing cleaning buckets, other cleaning products to the two kids. "Oh, you'll also be getting detention for being out partying after curfew. Death Row, Princess and Oscar will all see me tomorrow afternoon for detention assignments along with you. Now, get yourselves moving while I go visit Goldilocks and make sure he isn't too traumatized." 

As he walked away he heard at first the sounds of the two kids setting up cleaning supplies. The next second he heard them stampede for the closest bathroom. Polliver chuckled as the two ended up together in Sansa's bathroom. He peeked in and wrinkled his nose. Arya was emptying her bowels noisily into the toilet, misery spreading through the tiny room from it. Theon's entire head was in the small sink as he vomited repeatedly.

"SuperDouche, at least you were lucky and didn't have to shit in the sink. But you will probably do that soon enough and Target will need to puke. Just remember, ducklings, drugs make you sick. Don't forget to get things shiny clean in between your bathroom visits."

 

Loras looked up in mild surprise as Polliver leaned in the doorway, grinning at him. Polliver entered the room and grimaced.

"If I had to room with Death Row and SuperDouche, I would rarely visit my room. You rarely are in here unless they are gone. So I am sure it will relieve you that you will be moving out. You will be rooming with Sidebitch now. I want you to move your shit."

Nodding, Loras stood up from his bed, putting his book down. "I am relieved to switch rooms, thank you. And I don't mind Damon, he is a good guy when he's not around Ramsay." Polliver chuckled easily and tapped Loras's chest with the baton. "So polite and perfect, aren't you? I am glad you don't mind Damon because you are going to supervise Sansa's tutoring of Damon. And you will also help tutor Damon, you will help him get better grades, do well in therapy and most of all, help find his talents."

Polliver shoved Loras hard into the wall with his baton then stood nearly in the boy's face.

"Because, if Damon doesn't find a talent, if his grades go down again or any other fuckery happens with that boy, I will hold you responsible. And you will pay the price for it. I am on to you, Mr. Perfect. Listen to me carefully, you think no one will notice you sneaking the porridge, Goldilocks? You think no one will notice the beds rumpled? Sandor has caught you out of bounds a few times now. I don't know what you are doing, but I know you are sneaking around and I'm telling you now, when you are caught, you might wish you didn't try and play with wild bears. For being out of bounds and out past curfew, you can also join the others in a detention assignment. Go set up your new room and make it all welcome for your new roommate, Damon will be brought back tomorrow."

 

Hot Pie tried hard not to look at the gruesome sights of the three students when he brought the tray to the professors.

He pretended not to see Tyrion's misery or the wet mist in Stannis's eyes. Setting down the tray, he only said fast, "Polliver sent me. A pitcher of my special lemonade made very strong, Sirs. I hope it helps you through your rough evening. Good night." Tyrion yelled after him, "Thank you, lad! I love you, I mean that, young man!"

That made Hot Pie smile then he heard Stannis wail out, "Dammit, Ramsay! I swear you just defecated down your legs on purpose! Nasty terrible boy!" Losing his smile, the cook ran back towards the dorm house. He slammed in just to see Arya lean over while mopping and vomit into the soapy water as Theon nearly knocked him over heading for his room and the toilet.

Loras stormed on by with boxes and a troubled frown. Hot Pie shook his head and headed for his room upstairs, firmly shutting his door and putting a chair in front of the knob. Just in case those two sick kids have to clean upstairs too, he doesn't want them defiling his bathroom. Trying to forget the things he witnessed, trying not to worry madly for Jeyne and Myranda, Hot Pie showered and went to bed. 

 

Jeyne woke up to find herself restrained to a bed in an examination room. She noticed right away that her right ass cheek hurt like hell. Raff grinned down at her and then checked her pulse.

"There you are! How are you feeling, Jeynie? Good, your pulse is fine and you seem lucid. Now, I bet your buttock hurts, right? That's because that is where your new tracker is. I know you hate it but it's for your own good, darling. What if you got lost and hurt in a panic? What if you wandered too far and someone snatched you? We can find you and help you if we can track you."

Raff sat down on a stool and playfully rolled it over to her bedside and he ran his hand over Jeyne's scruffy scalp. "I bet you are wondering why you are still restrained if I finished your tracker. Can you guess why you are still stuck here on that bed, sweet little Jeynie?"

Peering up at Raff, shrinking a little at the sweet voice and the dark look in his eyes, Jeyne spoke in a near whisper. "I...I am in trouble?" Nodding, Raff smiled with full charm and gently pinched Jeyne's cheek. "Yes, you are in trouble. Why are you in trouble? What did you do that I would be upset at you for?"

Jeyne swallowed thickly and ventured, "I am in trouble for getting my revenge?" Tapping her nose in a very playful manner, Raff sang out softly, "Correct but what else are you in trouble for?" "Um...I stole drugs for Sansa?" Raff beamed down at Jeyne as if she performed a good trick. "Very good. That's right. You are in trouble for your revenge scheme and you are in trouble for stealing drugs."

Raff picked up a small plastic cup full of water and lifted Jeyne's head up. "Here, your mouth must be terribly dry. Sip at the water and that will help. Sip, don't drink too fast or you'll choke. There, that has to feel better, huh? Good. I'm glad. Because while we talk about your bad behavior, things are going to begin to not feel so good for you, Jeynie."

 

Myranda was sitting on a large rock, arms wrapped tightly around herself. She looked up as she heard Bob and Harold approaching.

"I wasn't running away, just sitting for a moment somewhere private."

Standing up, Myranda faced her mentors, fear shining in her eyes but bravely facing the moment as always. This made both Bob and Harold smile. Bob reached out one hand towards the trembling but challenging girl. Taking a deep breath, Myranda inched forward and put her slender hand in Bob's.

"We are glad you didn't try and hide. We have always enjoyed your courage, your spunk and even your little rebellions. I think we have made it clear that you are our favorite girl. You need to keep in my mind, sweetie, no matter the bad thing you do, no matter the severity of our anger or discipline, you will always be our favorite."

Shivering, Myranda nodded and allowed herself to be flanked by them. Each took her hand and led her forward.

"We are going to visit our rooms instead of yours this time, Myranda. Our rooms are quite soundproof. Kevan makes sure all the suites in his home are sound proof. No need to bother others, right? We are going to discuss the issue of loyalty, we shall discuss so many things...like why it's bad to murder clients." Harold kept his tone soft and kind, he grinned a little as Myranda shuddered. 

Chapter Text

Gregor and Unella walked inside their new house with all the excitement of a couple entering prison to serve a life sentence.

The first room was a living room similar to the ones in their own small cabins. This one was bigger with two tall windows and a staircase to the side leading to a second level. In the driest voice ever, Unella remarked, "Oh how lovely, Kevan made sure it was furnished." They stared at the furry orange couch that had several holes containing several things that seemed to be moving around. Gregor looked at the peeling wallpaper and Unella shuddered at how mushy the carpet seemed.

Gregor sighed and said, "At least the windows aren't broken and the electricity works still." Unella nodded and added, "This wallpaper is awful anyway. At least the kids spray painted only on the wallpaper."  Gregor nodded back and they both took a deep breath. They have never failed any challenging thing before, this house and this marriage, it will work.

An explosion of frantic squirrels burst forth from the couch as if it was a gray fur tornado. Gregor swore at the top of his lungs and Unella shrieked while leaping for the ceiling.

 

Raff spun his stool so he headed for something across the room out of Jeyne's sight. She started to panic, pulling at her restraints a little bit. What if it was needles or something that would go inside her body somewhere? Or a scalpel or so many other terrible things, that Jeyne whined, growled and wanted to fight, to flee, to-

"No. Jeynie, you can't run or fight this time. You have to open your eyes and see then just accept your punishment. Just like any other student, any other young person here. It will hurt you and make you feel very sorry for what you've done. Then it's over and you are forgiven. Just like any person, Jeyne. Do you understand me, you need to trust me. I will never again do something to trigger you, I promise. I never want to hurt you the way those bad people did. Honey, I am not Bethany, Roose or Unella. We both know I really am nothing like Gregor."

Jeyne giggled a little at that, even in her dread, her eyes still squeezed shut, her body still tensing. But she continued to listen to Raff, rather than blindly following the thread of panic.

"I am your mentor, your therapist, I would only hurt and discipline you to teach you something. To show you when you make mistakes so I can help you do better. To become a person that is useful and someone the staff truly wants to be proud of. Do you hear me, Jeynie? I want you to open your eyes and stop struggling now. Breathe slowly and open your eyes."

With a small growl, Jeyne opened her eyes and peered down to see Raff sitting near her bare feet. He was holding up a long thin flexible rod. Showing her the palm of his hands, Raff gave it a sharp whack with the rod. He winced a bit with it, deliberately hitting it hard, to show her the raised red line. Jeyne relaxed slightly and the panic began to leave. She tried to breathe normally but now a more realistic fear of pain was filling her instead.

Raff smirked and began to run the rod lightly over her feet. "Oh yes, it will hurt, but it won't cut or maim you. And your feet aren't so callused anymore that you won't feel it. If you are wondering why I have chosen your feet, I'll tell you. Because it will also keep you from  running away so much. Hard to run on very sore feet. I guess for a little while, you'll have to find other solutions for your problems."

Tapping the rod on Jeyne's right sole the running just the tip of it sharply down the entire foot, Raff spoke sharply. "Jeyne, did I tell you to come to me before you carried out any revenge plots? Did I ask you to come and tell me your ideas for revenge before going ahead with it?" She nodded and Raff ran the length of her foot lazily. "So I did. Now, did you do what I asked?" Jeyne whined. "No, I didn't." 

The rod whipped hard against Jeyne's right foot and she cried out. Another swift crack that drew another yelp against her left foot and Raff traced the rod gently over the swelling sore lines. Whining, Jeyne squirmed and gritted her teeth, watching Raff and that damned stick in his hand. "Now, because of your revenge plot, not only did you get a bad report and get hurt, but you hurt many others. Because you wanted revenge and didn't listen to anyone who was giving you good person advice. Let's discuss that."

 

Unella and Gregor stood in the full kitchen, complete with broken dishwasher, broken garbage disposal, rusty sink, ancient refrigerator and a fully functional oven. Staring blankly at the oven, Unella asked, "Do you know how to cook?" Gregor shook his head. "I know how to use the big grill outside." Unella shrugged. "I know how to heat up soup and I can make melted cheese sandwiches in the microwave." They looked over at the elderly microwave that seemed to be missing a door. 

Gregor stared out the kitchen window at their backyard which contained overgrown weeds which he'd like to strangle his brother with. Some landscaper he was! Unella peeked into the pantry to see two walls of shelves, a washer and dryer combo that would have been all the rage about twenty years ago. A door that led into the basement of the house. With no urge to explore the basement, Unella wandered back into the kitchen.

"Thank the gods we can eat at the cafeteria, otherwise we'd have to live on heated can soup and cold sandwiches for lunch. Supper would be whatever meat you managed to grill. For breakfast, we'd just have to make cereal. I know we both can wing that one." Unella looked with dismay at the three legged table that leaned onto the counter.

Gregor stared at Unella with mild horror. "Only until the baby is born. We can only eat all our meals at the cafeteria until the baby is born. There is no way Kevan will allow us to bring a baby into the cafeteria. And he won't make the cook make baby food. We will have to eat here and feed it here." Unella shuddered and then snapped, "At least you don't have to worry about baby food for a few months! I am the one who has to play cow and let the baby feed on me. And with my luck, it will be born teething."

"It's a baby, not a vampire. I would worry more that it will come out stone cold crazy like you but huge, strong and confident like me." Unella choked on her own words for a moment, her arms slowly stretching forth as if she were going to strangle Gregor, but in slow motion. Gregor watched her arms for a moment and commented, "I feel like I am waiting for a sloth to attack me."

Just before her eager fingers reached him, Gregor turned and walked away, heading into the hallway that led back to the living room. "Unella, stop fucking around and let's get this tour finished." Unella followed after him and her voice was only slightly strained when she called out to him. "Gregor? I really think you should check the basement out before anything else." "Oh yeah? Why?" "Because I would really like to shove you down the stairs, please."

 

Polliver ran into Sandor halfway down the path to the supply shed. He looked up at the drunk man chugging a bottle of Tyrion's best wine. Which was really Kevan's best wine. Raising an eyebrow, Polliver asked,"What's wrong with you? I know you don't like circles, but...did it really get to you that much, dude? I mean, what Unella did was fucking intense shit. Even I was freaking a bit, Raff looked scared, I don't think anyone but Kevan knew what Unella would do."

Sandor shook his head.

"What Cuntella did was fucking sadistic and I feel bad for my brother. For the first time in my fucking life, I feel bad for that mountain of blowflies. Woman's gonna fry him while he's asleep and turn him into a zombie or castrate him on their wedding night. But nah, that ain't it. And those two shitheads deserved their punishments. Found that funny as fuck actually. Nope, that isn't why I am going to drink all night. Stole two more bottles from Tyrion. Tall and Small have bad baby duty tonight, so I just walked right past Tyrion with them. He screamed blue fucking murder at me so hard, I heard Meryn crashing around. Fucker must have been so happy to see those kids and at least have something to jerk off to."  

Polliver chuckled and Sandor tilted the bottle a bit at him. "So why are you out here when every light on the first floor dorm is on way after curfew?" With a cocky grin, the counselor responded. "Gotta get more toilet paper, air freshener and bottled water. Target and SuperDouche are puking and shitting themselves silly while trying to clean the common areas of the house. Why are you drinking and looking that way if you aren't upset over the circle?"

Taking a long pull of the wine bottle first, Sandor grimaced. "Kevan has decided I need to get more involved with the students so I understand the pressures of the staff better. I have to mentor one of your fucking ducklings." Polliver's hands clasped his face and his eyes grew round, a demented grin growing upon his face. "Really? Oh, I can't wait for this...who? Who does Kevan want you to mentor?" Sandor looked morosely at the ground and muttered, "Arya Stark."

He winced as Polliver burst into laugher, holding his stomach. "Target? You are going to advise and find a talent in Target? How will you punish her if she fucks up? Aggressive gardening? Will you discover if class clown is a talent? Oh, gods, can I come like...as a supervisor the first few times because I NEED to know how...how..." Sandor stormed away after muttering that Polliver could go fuck himself.

 

The hallway carpet was torn up, the cheap wood paneling half blistered and yellow. A small den and a closet on the other side completed the journey of the dismal hallway that led right back into the squirrel infested living room. They stared up the old splintered staircase with wobbly banister and then slowly began to walk up it. Halfway up, Gregor's left foot went through the step and he found himself stuck.

Being a doctor, Unella instantly reacted. She burst into huge brays of laughter and leaned hard against the banister. Gregor grabbed her by the arm just as a small part of the railing gave up trying and crashed down into the living room. The wood crashed into the ugly cheap lamp that was the only source of light in the room downstairs. Instantly, the rustling of furry creatures started below them.

Gregor and Unella stared at each other. "Great. This is how it ends for me. Stuck in a staircase, holding a pregnant doctor upright as the squirrels slowly climb up and eat us. My brother will laugh about it until he turns to dust."

 

Myranda has been in the small wing of the house that Harold and Bob share. She has been in the small sitting room part. Never in their bedrooms and certainly never in their walk in closets. Most walk in closets are assumed to hold clothing and shoes. In Myranda's short career of high class teen whore to rich elderly men, she would disagree with that. She has seen walk in closets full of bsdm gear, one client had her enter a closet full of balloons that he wanted her to pop while giggling. Closets that contained clown gear as well as stacks upon stacks of clown porn videos, each sitting upon it's own ancient recorder.

Bob and Harold's closest are something she has never seen before. She wasn't very excited to be in the closets but it was fascinating in the most terrifying way. Harold's closet was full of well lit glass shelves holding pristine condition sex toys. Though Myranda felt toys was not the right term at all. Dildos, vibrators, clamps and more. But none of it seemed designed for the person to enjoy the attentions of these particular sex toys. Clamps with razor edges, dildos too long, too large made at wrong angles. The vibrators seemed to contain a level not only for movement but for causing pain.

Harold came up behind Myranda and pulled her gently against him as he pointed out his favorite new toy he has not yet tried. Whispering with a dark glee in her ear, he explained it. "The man slips it on like a condom and that tiny wire that attaches to this box, he holds it. When he feels like it, the man can press this button and basically its like a taser going off inside of the person. I was told by a frequent user of this product, that if you use the button enough that a good seizure can be produced and it feels utterly amazing."

Bob's closet was also filled with lit glass shelves but no toys. This was only a very mild relief as Myranda surveyed the various jars of ointments, creams and liquids. Wrapping an arm around Myranda, Bob showed her several of his favorites.

 "This one...this will cause unbearable itching that will only be assuaged by aggressive thrusting...but even then...the itch will return until flushed out with specific ingredients. This is the remedy, here, see? This one over here is made of eleven types of extremely spicy peppers. It will burn no matter what, however, cold water or ice being thrust up might bring mild relief. Here is the remedy for that one. This one makes everything extra sensitive to both pain and pleasure, it all becomes intolerable."

Harold picked up a tiny bottle and Bob grabbed Myranda's chin, forcing her mouth open. "Be a good girl and swallow, Myranda. It won't hurt you, sweetheart. It's just an aphrodisiac. It will make you wild and beg to feel good, honey, not bad. Its only the toys and lubricants we've shown you that will hurt. This bottle will just make ashamed that you are going to beg for it and even orgasm while you are hurting and ashamed of being a bad girl that has to be punished."

 

Jeyne was in full sobbing mode now and Raff was feeling like he was finally getting through her damned shaved feral head.

"Getting yourself in trouble with revenge, also got me in trouble with Kevan." WHACK! "When you got your revenge, you hurt others with your reckless actions. Hot Pie would be a member of staff by next season if he didn't keep your revenge secrets. And since Hot Pie got in trouble, Polliver got in trouble with Kevan." WHACK! "Myranda got in trouble by keeping your secrets of revenge, with Harold and Bob, who got in trouble with Kevan. Can you imagine what their punishment to her will be?" WHACK! "Stealing drugs for Sansa so you can have revenge? That helped Sansa rape and frame Damon." WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "Sansa sold some of the drugs to the other students. Who all have been punished for it."

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"I'm sorry! I am so sorry! I never meant to hurt others and get anyone else in trouble! I told Hot Pie and Myranda I was sorry! Please, stop, I will say I'm sorry to you and Polliver and Harold and Bob! I can even go say I'm sorry to Kevan! I mean it, I am very sorry!"

Raff smirked at Jeyne and the rod gently played along the throbbing soles. "That is a very good start, Jeyne. You should apologize because it was your fault and I am glad you accept that responsibility. Now, are you very sorry for hurting Gregor and Unella with your revenge?"

Jeyne burst into frustrated tears and shook her head wildly. "No! I am sorry for everyone else I hurt. But not them, they deserved it. I can't be sorry for that!"

With a sigh, Raff stretched and looked at Jeyne without mercy but with chilling patience. "Looks like we have more to discuss, Jeyne."

Chapter Text

Jeyne stared defiantly at Raff. "I can't feel bad for them. Beat me all you want." Raff smiled sweetly. "Challenge accepted, dear."

WHACK! "Because of you, they have to marry each other, live in the same house and raise a child together. They don't like each other, they don't love each other, they hate each other. Having sex doesn't mean they like each other, Jeyne." WHACK! "Gregor and Unella are both bad tempered and they are going to be forced to live together, hating each other. Now they will raise a baby they also don't want." WHACK!

"Unella and Gregor had agreed to have an abortion, Jeyne. Kevan won't let them do that unless they leave the school forever. So Unella must carry, give birth to and care for a child she doesn't want and help provide for a husband she doesn't want." WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "Gregor will provide for and raise a baby he doesn't want and a wife he doesn't want. All because of your revenge." WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Raff leaned over her legs and pointed the rod at Jeyne's head and lightly tapped it.

"Get this through your skull, dear. This is a baby, a human being, born to parents who are cold, bad tempered and are not a single sweet bone between them. This innocent life might not be loved, this baby watching two parents that hate each other and how will this child feel if Unella and Gregor can't feel any love, just cold duty?"  

Jeyne gasped and stared in horror at Raff. "They might kill each other or the baby!" Raff shook his head and moved back to Jeyne's feet. "No, they aren't going to do that. But you did cause them to form a family of cold hate. That a child will be born into." WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"Are you sorry for what you did to Unella and Gregor?" "Yes! I am sorry they are going to kill each other and the baby! I'm sorry I made a cold murder family!"

 

"NO! NO! NO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND FUCKING ANYTHING, DO YOU? YOU FILTHY MISBEGOTTEN BIRTH FROM SATAN'S HELL-BEAST! A PLAGUE UPON YOU! SIT IN YOUR OWN FILTH AND I HOPE THE INFECTION ROTS YOU QUICKER THAN THE SYPHILIS THAT HAS APPARENTLY BLOOMED WITHIN YOUR BRAIN!" 

"Stannis, calm down, sit and have a drink. Let me deal with Ramsay this time around. Calm yourself."

It was to Tyrion's benefit that he was quite drunk at this point but not to Ramsay's. Tyrion simply picked up the long hose and turned the nozzle too far as he pointed it at Ramsay. The boy had hugged the pole as his lower half was swept away but then the dwarf was thrown aside by the hose. Joff then Sansa both were instantly drenched. Sansa wailed loudest as she had finally managed to doze off. Joff tried to curse them all in spite of his outstretched tongue.

Stannis didn't look up from his drink, just muttered tiredly, "Don't forget to only use the hose in the bucket, not directly on the students." Tyrion shook a fist at Stannis who didn't see it. Dizzily, Tyrion stood up, shook himself off and headed for the cup full of ice water and moistened sponge lollipops. He gently and carefully knelt besides Sansa, keeping his eyes averted. "Just wetting your mouth for you, Sansa."

"Thank you, Tyrion. It's very kind of you, but that is my eye. Could you look at my face long enough to find my mouth, please?"

 

"Dying...please...call my father and brother. I'm dying."

Polliver yawned and watched the television, ignoring the white hand reaching for his leg. Another voice and wavering voice. "I am dying too and I don't want to die so far from the sea." Rolling his eyes, the counselor flicked the hands away and stood up. "Both of you will live. Get some more water into yourselves and finish scrubbing those stairs and the upstairs hallway then you can get some sleep. Hurry or you won't get a good hour or so in for some shut eye before breakfast."

Theon and Arya dry heaved over the thought of breakfast. They dragged their pale white bodies towards the back stairs while Polliver got a blanket and pillow. He turned down the light and promptly fell asleep on the couch. Years of experience has taught him how to sleep and yet keep an ear for ducklings at the same time. Soothed by the sounds of scrubbing and retching, Polliver snored.

 

"Wake up! Are you fucking crazy? That is the worst idea I have ever heard of!"

Unella glared at Gregor, who glared back. She slammed the bag of ice onto his swollen ankle and smirked when he winced. "Woman, the worst idea I have ever heard of was marrying you and raising a child together! How come the idea of using students for free labor is fine, but free babysitters or nannies are out of the question? A person who will cook, clean and take care of the baby so we don't have to!"

"Free labor is one thing, Gregor! Having a student inside the house while we aren't, with a baby, isn't safe. Who would we choose? Oh, so many choices, after all. Myranda would just stare at it trying to find the off button! Sansa would sell the baby online if she thought it could help her out, Arya would conduct baby races for profit with it and Jeyne would get frustrated or hungry and eat the baby!"

Gregor grunted and looked around at the spray painted walls of the second floor of their new hell home. "Jeyne won't eat the baby. Might run off with it and raise it in the woods though." Unella glared down her nose at him. "You are not funny. Even among the male students there isn't anyone you can choose. Joff would nail the baby to a tree, Ramsay would nail it to ten trees. Theon would just give the baby to Ramsay. Loras would hide in a closet the second the baby became messy and Damon would hide himself and the baby in a closet because he heard a scary sound!"

 

Polliver heard the door open and a sniffle. That deep quick sniffle that only those who have been crying for a long time develop. Opening only one eye, he saw Raff go by carrying Jeyne, who's feet were swollen and quite red. Grinning, Polliver pulled the blanket around his shoulders and drifted back off. Raff nearly stepped on Theon who was laying at the bottom of the stairwell, a damp cloth over his face. He cursed and stepped over the boy, snapping out, "Best not let Polliver catch you sleeping instead of cleaning, SuperD."

"WHO'S SLEEPING INSTEAD OF CLEANING? DO I NEED TO GET UP?"

Theon moaned and hollered out, "No, sorry...cleaning." Leaving the boy to his misery, Raff climbed the stairs just to almost fall over Arya sleeping near the top step. Swearing, Raff kicked at her and muttered that she almost got all three of them killed. Arya hushed him then curled into a ball on the upstairs hall carpet, settling back to sleep. Sighing, Raff carried Jeyne into her room. Dumping her on her bed, Raff smoothed Jeyne's hair. "Now, you are sorry, I believe you and you are forgiven. Apologize tomorrow to those who should hear it. Goodnight, Jeyne."

Raff walked out of Jeyne's room and quietly shut the door. Then he tiptoed over to Arya and leaned over her sleeping form. He seemed to think about things for a moment then he went downstairs. He walked over to the small snack area and mini fridge of drinks and studied all of the options. A bag of pork rinds half eaten on the top of the trash can was perfect. Silently going past Theon who was back to scrubbing, Raff climbed the stairs and placed the open bag in front of the sleeping girl's nose. He leaped out of the way just in time as Arya heaved and vomited across the floor.

Some the spray hit his shoe and Raff screamed, "AH FUCK!" Polliver came pounding up the stairs to kill someone only to see Raff's disgust and start laughing. "That prank went fuck all on you, didn't it? I thought we established years ago that your pranks only work if I am involved?" He laughed so hard that he had to sit on the top step. "Ah shit, my stomach is killing me. Not used to laughing this hard two times in one night. Hey,while you clean your shoe and Target cleans her puke, I bet I can make you laugh too. Guess who Kevan has decided as a mentor for Target?"

 

Hot Pie stared with aching, red tired eyes at the ceiling as Arya began to scream while Raff and Polliver laughed outside his damned door.

Bad enough that Hot Pie's headphones finally decided to die tonight and he has listened to sounds that reminded him of the worst things. It was very hard to sleep with those sounds and images stuck in his head. Images of barley and been soup left too long and how it sounds poured out. The time his grandfather had the flu and he had been in the old man's lap when the chicken noodle soup made a sudden and startlingly hot reappearance.

Hot Pie had been even further horrified when a smell began to assault his nostrils from downstairs. He scrambled to light a scented candle that Myranda had made for him last year. Having never lit the thing before, Hot Pie had no clue what it would smell like. It didn't matter, anything was better than the smell of shit and vomit mixed with bleach. He firmly thought that until Hot Pie started gagging and running to stick his head out the window for fresher air. Now his room was the delicate scent of burning hair, scorched vanilla at the bottom of a pan which mingled uneasily with the vomit, shit and bleach.

Having thrown out the candle and left the window open, hoping not to asphyxiate, Hot Pie listened to chaos that has now made it to the second floor. He could hear Jeyne sobbing in the next room and sighed. Throwing off the covers, Hot Pie put on his bathrobe and headed out of his room. Passing the laughing men and the heaving while hollering girl, he went downstairs. After getting a bag of ice and a plastic tub, he headed back upstairs, this time heading into the bathroom he shares with the girls.

No one said a word as he balanced the icy water filled tub and fumbled Jeyne's door open. He shut it with his foot and walked over to the form on the bed in the darkened room. Hot Pie set the tub down and then he pulled the sobbing girl up until she was sitting on the edge of her bed. Putting her feet into the icy tub, Hot Pie smirked a bit at her gasp of the sudden cold. Then slowly her body relaxed as the sting lessened. Her sniffles became muffled as Hot Pie shoved a tissue against her face. "Blow. Good. Again." Hot Pie threw away the tissue and brought the box of tissues over to Jeyne's bed.

"I am so sorry. I am going to apologize to everyone. I am really sorry." Hot Pie sighed and nodded. "We had this talk, you, me and Myranda already, remember? We know you are sorry and we forgave you. Everyone else will forgive you too, even if they give you a bit of shit for it first. Don't worry so much about it." Jeyne nodded. "I am sorry for making Gregor and Unella baby killers." Hot Pie had started to doze off standing in place but now he was wide awake. "WHAT?" A roar from the hallway came through the door clearly. 

"HEY! DO NOT GO SHOUTING AT THIS HOUR! THERE ARE SOME FOLKS TRYING TO SLEEP SOMEWHERE!"    

Hot Pie closed his eyes for patience and then shook his head fast. "Okay, Jeyne, I am too tired to really understand. Unella and Gregor won't kill their baby. And even if they did, how the fuck could that be your fault? Don't answer that, please." He nearly cried when Jeyne decided to answer him anyway. "They hate each other and they have to marry. Spousal abuse will happen. My fault. They won't love the baby, they will kill it out of accidental rage. My fault." Hot Pie blinked several times then took a deep breath. "No. I can't. I am too tired. None of that will happen, none of that could be your fault. We can discuss it later. Ice your damned feet and go to bed, Jeyne."

 

Jeyne was hearing the sounds of Arya snoring in the hallway, Hot Pie snoring in his room and she could hear Polliver snoring downstairs. Every few minutes or so she heard Theon downstairs running for a bathroom, groaning. Then worse sounds happen that Jeyne tries hard to ignore. Her feet kept getting sore again every time she laid back down. Easier to sit up and keep them in the water. Besides, Jeyne's own guilt and worst case scenarios were crowding her head. She heard the hushed sounds of others coming up the stairs.

It was a very normal and safe sound to Jeyne. It was only Bob and Harold returning Myranda to her room. Whenever there are punishments or if they have to drug her because of a rough job, this is how Myranda is returned. Jeyne heard the men leave their charge in her room then leave. Jagged sobs came through the walls and Jeyne whined, looking down at her ice water numb feet. Moving fast, Jeyne pulled her feet from the water and gingerly stood on them. Hissing in pain, Jeyne began to take small, mincing steps to the door.

Passing Arya in the hallway, Jeyne went into bathroom and started to fill up the tub, adding the calming scents and bubble bath that Myranda favors. She set out a towel and waited until the tub was full of bubbly water so hot it could barely be stood. Jeyne went into Myranda's room and found the girl standing in the center of the room, shuddering and weeping. Myranda stood as if she had just emerged from an oil slick and can't tolerate the feeling of it. Jeyne took Myranda's arm and carefully led her to the bathroom.

Gently, Jeyne helped her friend remove her clothes and get into the tub. Myranda started to get her color back a little and stopped weeping. Jeyne hissed in pain and sat hard on the bathmat, raising her feet onto the tub edge. Narrowing her eyes at the swollen brick red soles, Myranda commented. "Ouch. Raff was pissed, huh? Well, you paid for it and now it's over except for apologies, I bet. And a little pain from Cuntella and Nanny Smash. And I have learned the exact limits to never again push Harold or Bob to. That is over now too and I am grateful it's over." Jeyne curled around herself and snaked up her legs to peer at Myranda.

"I am sorry. It doesn't matter what Unella and Gregor do to me for it. I am a child killer now." Myranda stared hard at Jeyne then started to giggle. "Fucking crazy ass kind of logic....what the hell are you talking about now?" Jeyne looked at Myranda without a trace of humor. "They will all kill each other in rage and it will be my fault." Myranda sank deep into the bubbles, wincing in so many different types of pain and rolled her eyes up at Jeyne. "Sweetheart, I love you, I do. But I need to recharge, okay? I am not at my best right now. Anything that happens to Unella and Gregor or their spawn is no longer your fault. It's all over but the last of the apologies and pain. Speaking of those things, I have done a real lot of apologizing myself tonight and feeling a shitload of pain for it. So, why don't you go ice those feet while I cry and soak?"

Chapter Text

The next morning all the students were lined in the clinic with Polliver twirling his baton. Two things were different. Jeyne, Hot Pie and Myranda are usually in the cafeteria, having seen Raff earlier. The second thing was that instead of standing at the medication counter, Raff was sitting in his triage room, calling out names. He had leaned out of the doorway, smirking. "You all look like properly fucked up ducklings. Let's see who needs what. Come in when I call you."

Raff shook his head and sighed. "You look like a zombie. Okay, go make a late breakfast of only cold foods. Go to bed until lunchtime. Cold lunches only. Back to bed until supper and see how you feel about using a stove or something. Hand this note to Polliver, he'll pass along that no one is to disturb you today. It was nice of you to ice Jeyne's feet last night, Hot Pie. That's what a good friend does. But, I wanted her feet to hurt that badly, so the lesson sticks. That is why I can't let you out of your cook duties today. Dismissed."

Jeyne shifted her feet and asked if she could sit down in the chair. "No. Here's your medication and you have a full schedule today, I see. Make sure to show on time to everything. Make sure to squeeze those apologies in somewhere. In fact, we have therapy later today, I'd like to hear by then that you've finished them."

Myranda was offered a chair and politely declined it. Raff gave her a fast private examination and found himself truly wincing in sympathy. "Okay, sweetheart. You are seeing Unella first thing today. I am calling it a sick day for you. Along with your regular medications, I'll add a painkiller, muscle relaxant and an ointment that has a numbing agent. Get dressed, take your medications and hand this note to Polliver. Then have a rest on the couch in Unella's office until she gets to you."

Sansa stood as if she were a statue and Raff smirked. "Let's go behind the curtain and do a quick examination, Sansa." The whole time the girl stared at the ceiling or walls and only spoke to answer questions. After she was dressed and back standing before the small desk, Raff wrote out a note for Polliver. "Women after giving birth find a circle pillow very comforting. I have a few that were sent here...they work well for injuries to the genitals or anus. Polliver will give you one for use until you feel better. That cut won't be a problem for very long. The stitch will come out at the end of the week. If it burns or itches uncontrollably come see me right away. Otherwise, use the creams that I am giving you twice a day every day for ten days. I am excusing you from gym for two weeks. For the ache and stiffness of your limbs, use the ibuprofen I am giving you. Today I have your therapy with me after lunch. See you then."

Loras barely cleared the doorway before Raff handed him his medications. "Open your mouth. Good. Have a nice day, I hear it's full and there is detention at the end of it. The perfect boy has received detention? I shall want to discuss that with you later in our therapy session."

Arya slid in the door and then slid into the chair, groaning. Raff lifted an eyebrow. "I didn't say you could sit down, Arya." "I am dying, Raff. You won't let a dying girl sit down? What the hell kind of nurse are you?" Smirking, Raff leaned forward and sweetly responded. "A nurse that knows drugs make you sick.  Do you know who isn't a nurse? Jeyne. She could have scooped up the wrong thing and not know it could kill you. Do you know who else isn't a nurse? Your sister. Sansa could have sold deadly drugs to you and the others, never knowing it. Can you imagine how she would feel to know that she not only dragged you into this school by that car accident but then accidentally killed you with drugs?" Flushing, Arya looked down at her hands. "I know. I'm sorry." "Good. I'm glad that you are. We can discuss it during therapy today. Take this note to Polliver. I am letting you out of academics and physical classes today. But you will attend therapy, a quick exam with the doctor and any detentions you have wracked up. Oh, before you leave, head over to the second exam room. I'll be giving you IV fluids to hydrate you."

Raff smirked at the sight of Theon grasping onto the door frame. He received the same lecture and schedule as Arya. "Theon, if I could request a room change for you, I would. Hanging with Ramsay has brought you nothing but grief. I would like you to start giving serious consideration to a mentor. And I hope we will talk about that more during therapy today. Go sit with Arya and wait for your hydration, please."

Joff glared at the nurse that was far too cheerful for the grievous wounds he has suffered. He was given an examination and Raff wrote his note to Polliver. "You will see Unella for a better look before lunch. I will give you a mild painkiller in some cough syrup so you can attend all your classes. Due to the stress of your limbs and the pain in your mouth you are excused from all physical classes today. You will attend all detentions and therapies. Here are your medications."

Ramsay tried to bite Raff during the tongue examination and claimed it was an accident. Raff smiled nastily and hand slapped hard against the swollen, hastily stitched middle finger. As Ramsay howled, Raff apologized, claiming it was an accident. While the nurse examined the finger, Ramsay didn't do anything but stare at him with menace. "I will add a mild painkiller in cough syrup for you. Due to the excessive pain in your finger, I am going to give you another painkiller as well. Be careful going to and from classes today. In fact, as long as you need any painkillers, Polliver will escort you to and from classes and detentions. You are excused from physical classes only. Unella wants to see you at ten today, Ramsay. Be on time. Here are your medications."

Once Polliver escorted the students out, after Theon and Arya were tethered by tubes to hydrate, the last student came to triage. Unella guided a shaking Damon into Raff's small triage room and into a chair. "He is in good health. Damon will need an increased dosage on his stabilizers, please. He needs some calm productive days." "No problem. Myranda is waiting for you, she needs a better look than I can give. She is getting some extra relief but I'd like to make sure you don't have a better idea on it than me. And the moaning in the other exam room belongs to Theon and Arya. They are getting some hydration, spent the night with terrible stomach flu symptoms."

Unella left and Raff smiled at Damon. "Okay, kiddo. We are adding a little to your medications and I am adding a bit of something to calm you down. I want you to attend all academic classes, your exam with Unella later and therapy sessions with me. I think you are good for physical classes today, there won't be many others students there. No extra activities today, no detentions either. Damon, we should start finding you a mentor. I think you are ready for some more adult guidance. Today I would like you to look closer at the staff around you and see if you feel there is anyone you trust more than others. We can talk about it during therapy."

Damon nodded and hugged himself. Raff leaned over his desk and softly. "Last night Polliver switched some rooming situations. Loras is your new roommate now. And he is just as smart and kind as Sansa was. Until you feel better and have your head straight, I think it's best you don't share rooms with her. Loras has offered to help tutor you and if you wish to still work with Sansa, Loras can go with you until you are feeling better."

 

Polliver was leading a pissed off Ramsay towards the schoolhouse when Jeyne staggered in front of them. Ramsay sneered at her mincing steps but Polliver just grinned. "Careful there, Feral. I almost stepped on you. Don't you have class in five minutes, darling?" Jeyne nodded then took a deep breath before blurting out, "I am very sorry that you got in trouble because Hot Pie got in trouble because I got in trouble." Ramsay laughed at her but Polliver stopped his joking nature and gravely responded. "Thank you for apologizing and really meaning it. That was very new and hard for you, wasn't it? That was a real person thing to do, I am impressed. I forgive you."

Ramsay couldn't contain himself when the strange girl he was supposed to see as a sister looked so proud. Standing tall like a person, eyes beaming like a child, her hands held like begging paws in her excitement, thin, all wrong angles on her and that buzz cut looking hair growing upon her head. He spoke with a slurring tone, but Ramsay made sure he was heard and understood. "I can tell you were kept with the dogs. My favorite dog was Helicent, she begged with her paws like that too. I have a dog sister. When I call you a bitch, would I be correct?" The baton into the solar plexus was worth it to see Jeyne's eyes fill with hurt as she staggered away.

 

Unella shook her head grimly. "Myranda, are you sure you would like to...keep working with Harold and Bob? Perhaps it is time to find a new talent? I mean, young lady, I have seen you in some bad situations before...but this is...unique. Thank goodness that they had remedies on hand but some damage has been done. I am putting in my report that you cannot do any work for Bob and Harold for the rest of the month. Your body needs time to heal and recuperate. Myranda, please consider that this talent only lasts as long as your body does. Eventually, it will take it's toll and that talent will no longer be of use. Please, consider another mentor to help discover a different talent?"

Shaking her head and giving a humorless smile, Myranda responded in a sweet ragged tone. "I only came here because of Harold and Bob. They saved me from a worse fate. This isn't from a client, just a punishment for a very bad action. I will heal and learn from it. And this work isn't forever. Kevan has promised me a better future and it's soon. I just have to make up for this and be even better at my work for awhile longer."

Unella sighed, wishing she could get through the girl's delusional head but it wasn't her job. "Alright then. I have adjusted your medications and I have asked Polliver to get you a horseshoe shaped pillow. Take it with you as you need to for as long as you want. I want you back in academic classes tomorrow without any physical classes for the next two weeks. And you will come for a follow up exam with me in two days. Any further discomfort than you have, please see me or Raff immediately."

 

Stannis and Tyrion groaned as students staggered in for classes. Both men were extremely hung over and beyond tired. The children looked like zombies. Stannis sighed and shook his head. "And all we got for breakfast was cereal, fruit salad, avocado toast and muffins from yesterday. This day is a cruel one, Tyrion. Do you have anymore painkillers?" Tyrion gave Stannis two aspirin and held up his thermos. "Here, a few gulps of this might help. It's how I am dealing with our cruel day." 

 

Chapter Text

Tyrion and Stannis noted that Jeyne was more interactive with Damon than usual. They mostly worked silently beside each other only speaking when needed since Damon joined Jeyne for classes.

Today Damon kept dropping his pencil and Jeyne would pick it up every time and put it on his desk. When Damon dropped it for the tenth time he burst into tears. Jeyne got up, got the tape off Stannis's desk and taped the pencil with Damon's hand wrapped around it. Considering the size of the fist around the pencil, Jeyne used up all of the tape. She gave Damon a tissue and went back to her work.

In Tyrion's class, Jeyne shared a book she had finished. "I liked it. It was good. The cat was evil, the actress girl was a stupid girl. She had to get saved by boys. I really liked the cat. The end."  It was rare for her to give a verbal book report. Rarer was her helping Damon when he tried to stumble through a new book of his own. They both would get stuck on a word and frown over it together, sounding it out. One time they couldn't get the word and Jeyne looked up. "Tyrion? Can you help? We can't do this word." Stunned, Tyrion staggered to his feet and eagerly went to help. In the past, if Jeyne truly needed help, she would slink to the desk and slam the book on it, pointing.

With lots of encouragement from Jeyne and the teachers, Damon made it through his classes without too much issue. He was already starting to calm down. Following Jeyne, they went into the library to do their homework. Red hair shined bright from the sun in the window, Damon gasped seeing Sansa. For a brief second that terrible nightmare was back. For the first time he can remember, he wanted to not be noticed by her. He has already talked with Loras who was nice enough if just boring. Damon wanted to just get help from Jeyne, teachers and Loras, maybe.

Jeyne saw the girl too and made a small growling sound. Sighing, she saw no other option. "Damon. We are leaving. Come on, turn around, be quick." Damon let her push him out of the library. "Where are we going? To do homework somewhere else? Do you think we could use the cafeteria and get a snack?" Shaking her head, she kept shoving Damon's back until they were out of the school house. "Cafeteria is closed until meal times. Hot Pie is sleeping in between today." Damon looked a bit disappointed at that. "Common room at the dorm? No one is in there now, I think." Jeyne shuddered. "Not until that place smells better. Target and SuperD were really sick last night. Do you like to sit in the garden? We can work there."

Damon nodded and as they walked, he suddenly grinned and gave her a light punch to the arm that nearly knocked her down. As he straightened Jeyne back up, he spoke cheerily if a bit slower than usual. "Hey, today you are talking and helping. And I like doing homework outside, you came up with a great idea. That's like a big deal for you, isn't it?" Jeyne gave a small quick smile back. "I am being a Person That Interacts and Helps." Damon nodded, watching a butterfly go by and wanting to take a nap. 

"Silly, didn't you know you are a person? Feral is just a nickname and what happens in the past...better to just forget it." Jeyne shrugged. "I am nicknamed that because that is what I was. I am going to be a Person now, it just takes time. Raff said that. Gregor and Polliver said that. I have decided to believe them. Let's sit here and start with math." "Ugh, why that?" "Because it's the worst and my hardest so I want to get it over with. I don't have much time for homework today so I have to rush." Damon started to set out the papers while Jeyne took off her socks and shoes, to let the air at her sore, burning feet. "Why are you in a rush today?" "I need to make apologies. Just as hard and awful as math, so I want to get it done with."

Damon grinned at Jeyne. "Ramsay told me apologies are easy because they are just words, they don't really need to mean anything." Jeyne gave Damon a very serious look. "Words should mean something. Promises mean something. Lies hurt lots of people, Damon. Ramsay is wrong. It was really hard for me to learn that but I did it. That is important for you to learn, Damon. If you are truly sorry for something, that is when the apology matters most. And it should be hard, maybe." A cackle and a shadow ruined the moment. Ramsay's slurred voice and hateful eyes pierced through both Jeyne and Damon.

"I see that you are both making friends, my new dog sister and my old best friend. Feral is full of shit, buddy. She only parrots back what others tell her, what they fill into her empty head. Think of it like training a dog, Sidebitch. The staff isn't teaching her, they are training her to act like a human, like a really good trick. Maybe they can use her as a therapy dog. Are you going to let them fill your empty head like a trained dog too? What great buddies you pick up! Oscar, Goldilocks and your special needs classmate. Do they plan on getting you matching retard helmets?"

"I think perhaps you are the one who needs a helmet. After all, it's clear you have nothing but air in that skull of yours? Wasn't last night enough for you? Polliver is already looking for you and ready to murder you. I'd move if I were you or I'll call and wave to him. And if you try to hurt any of us, I will scream. He will show up with the baton already searching for your empty skull." Ramsay spun around to glare at Sansa, who looked pale but composed. "Should I start yelling, Death Row?" Damon and Jeyne watched as Ramsay stormed away. Sansa smiled at the two and said, "I am sorry, some bullies can't help themselves. Jeyne, would you mind if I spoke to Damon alone for a minute?"

Calling her by her real name both made Jeyne feel pleased and wary. Jeyne looked at Damon and he nodded. "Why don't you do your apologies and when you get back we can finish our homework?" Nodding, Jeyne stood up and with a sigh, looked up at the tall redhead. "Thank you for helping us. It was nice of you." Jeyne the Person minced away as Sansa tried not to laugh. "You are welcome, Jeyne." The girl didn't turn around and Sansa sat down next to Damon. He shifted awkwardly and Sansa was careful not to touch him. "I heard you had a really bad trick played on you by Princess and Death Row. I was really worried when they took you into the clinic on a stretcher. I was so relieved to hear you were okay and back to school. How are you feeling?"

Blushing, Damon looked around the garden, then checked to see if his feet were still there. "Fine. A little foggy from the medicine though. I don't remember much and it's all fucked up in my head. I...I had a terrible hallucination, just needs to fade away, I guess. Still can't believe Ramsay did that...I mean, yeah, he did but...then to come here and mess with me more." Sansa gave him a sympathetic look. "You can avoid him and soon enough he will move on to another target." Damon snickered. "I think he already picked a target. Feral is his half sister, he doesn't like that his old best friend is sitting with her, talking about him...if I'm around I won't let him touch her though. She has never been mean to me. Today she was really nice. Maybe even a new friend. I like doing homework with her."

Sansa smiled and gently took Damon's hand. "That is really nice of you to offer protection to Jeyne. She is really trying hard and so you are you. I think it's great that you work together on school stuff. It will help both of you. I still want to read with you, if you'd like that. I know that Loras will be your new roommate and tutor now. He is a very nice boy and won't lead you the wrong way. And we are still friends too, right, Damie? I love seeing how my superhero is growing, making friends and learning. Don't let what those nasty boys did stop you in any way, superstar."

Damon couldn't believe his head would let him believe this wonderful friend would have hurt him that way. He squeezed Sansa's hand and grinned. "Nah, it won't stop me. Course we are friends, I want to start a new book with you, though. I don't like that scary one anymore."  

Bob and Harold were in their office near Kevan's, at their desks when a knock came at the door. Gilly popped her head in and spoke in her usual respectful but blunt tone. "Sorry to disturb you, Sirs. Jeyne is here to see you. Want her in her or the foyer? She is following me very closely, Sirs. I think she is very eager to see you."  The men looked at each other through their sunglasses then shrugged. Bob smiled at Gilly. "Let her in, thank you." Gilly nodded then disappeared as Jeyne carefully stepped in.

She only looked up at them once but made sure her voice was loud and clear. "I am sorry for making a problem for you by asking Myranda to keep my secrets." Both men looked at each other again then at Jeyne. Harold nodded. "Thank you, Jeyne." Bob smiled at her. "Yes, that was good of you. We forgive you." Jeyne minced out of the room as fast as she could. After Jeyne was gone, both men went back to their tasks. "I wonder how Kevan will feel if the staff manages to turn the feral into a  fully functional person? I wonder what use she'll have to him if she isn't just a charity, if he doesn't see his unique pet acting unique?"

Bob looked at Harold and shrugged. "She is doing much better, still very strange. If she loses her feral attitude and actions eventually...I am sure Raff is digging hard for a talent already."

 Arya tried to get Unella to excuse her from any mentors or detention time and failed miserably. Leaving the clinic, she had one small bright spot. Watching Polliver dragging Ramsay by his ear while beating his ass with the baton all the way towards the clinic she just left. Polliver kept up a steady one sided conversation that Arya just stood there listening to. She was too tired and really didn't care about going to mentoring with the damned grounds keeper.

"What the fuck are you thinking, boy? Running from me, hiding from your therapy time? Hurts my feelings, Death Row. Hurts Raff's feelings. And I am sure you were out hurting someone's feelings' weren't you? Don't bother with any of your fucking lies. Joff can barely speak and I know that your tongue must hurt like hell yet, you keep talking anyway. Fucking idiot, truly, I have little hope for your survival. Wonder if it'll be lethal injection or if Tickler will fuck you to death for your impending crimes? I can see through you, kiddo, you aren't our first serial killer, sweet summer child. And I am telling you now to leave Feral the fuck alone or...."

Polliver's bullying words as he dragged Ramsay became a soft lullaby that sweetly sent Arya into dreamland as she leaned against a fence and shut her eyes. Until the crash of a baton into the wood right next to her head.

"Hey, Target, you are meeting Sandor for mentoring in...wow...fifteen minutes ago. Need me to beat your ass too, honeybunches of biscuits? No, better run faster than that!" Arya ran and hoped her stomach wouldn't start up again over it. She skidded to a halt just past the small bend where Polliver couldn't see her and panted, bending over. Luckily, her stomach was steady and she stood straight up with a sigh of relief. Intending to sneak into the dorm from the back and go to bed, Arya crossed behind the cabins and walked on the back pathway near the woods.

A huge shadow came over her just as she took one step off the path towards the back of the dorm house. Looking up at Sandor's frown, she sighed. "Look, we both don't want to do this. And I am so tired and weak I really won't pay attention. Why don't we pretend we did this mentor thing today and try again for tomorrow?" Sandor stared at Arya as if she were a new species. "I waited for you. That was pretty fucking rude of you to just leave me waiting, wasting my time. Doesn't matter if we don't want to do this mentor-ship, Kevan wants us to do it. My boss and your ultimate damned god right now. Time for you to pull up those big girl pants and start really looking at this world."

Sandor grabbed Arya by the shirt collar and dragged her towards the large gardening shed. "We are going to skip the heartwarming talks, no shock therapy, ain't going to beat you unless you are incredibly dumb and no drugs to fuck with your body or head. Polliver gave me a name for it and it works. Target, you are going to get some aggressive gardening. And we are both going to pray that it works. If it does, you'll come out of it with a talent. If it doesn't work then we try again until it does. If we let Kevan down, we both feel it. So let's go get you all set up for some time being a landscape."     

Unella shook her head in disapproval at Ramsay. "Young man, your tongue is twice as swollen as it should be. Frankly, you need to shut up. I am adding a medication to reduce the swelling and honestly, I am not above sewing your mouth shut if it is for your own good. Get to your therapy with Raff. You might not be able to speak but he can certainly talk to you." Stretching, Unella decided it was time to get some coffee. She washed her hands then left the exam room to put her lab coat in her office. As she entered the small room that was already stretching out shadows of afternoon, Unella jumped, seeing Jeyne sitting on the desk. "Jeyne! You scared the hell out of me! Don't sneak into my office, ever!"

The girl slid off the desk and came far too close, her head tilting inquisitively. "Are you okay? Did I scare the baby?" Unella was trying to regain composure and gave a short bark of laughter at Jeyne's question and extreme concern. "What? No..Jeyne, it didn't scare anyone but me. But you shouldn't scare anyone that way, certainly not a pregnant woman in need of coffee." Jeyne backed up and winced at her feet thudding down. "Are you here because your feet, Jeyne? I know Raff used them for your discipline last night. Would you like me to check them? I will but I warn you, I won't help them feel better or treat them unless it's really bad. And knowing Raff it's harsh but not overboard."

Jeyne spoke in a sudden rush of words, her hands twisting together. "I am sorry for getting revenge on you. I am sorry you will kill your husband and baby and I am sorry that your husband might kill you and your baby. I am really sorry. It will be my fault and I am really sorry I did what I did." Unella was speechless, just trying to comprehend that twisted logic apology. "Jeyne, I appreciate that you came to apologize. But I don't understand why you think that myself or Gregor would murder the other or the baby. That simply won't happen, I assure you. I am very upset with you still but I am going to forgive you. However, you will still meet with us later about punishment." Nodding, Jeyne slipped past Unella and minced away.

Arya huffed as she carried bags of manure to a wheel barrel. "Oh yeah, I feel that mentoring sinking right in. Hard labor is really my thing, I can tell. My sister is going to go off and rule the fucking world, change everything if she can. I'm going to learn how to use shit to make salad and bright flowers." Sandor reached into the shed and grabbed a roll of duct tape. While Arya struggled to get the wheel barrel moving, he came up and put a thick piece of gray tape over her entire mouth. "There. Maybe if you can't run your mouth to distract you, you might actually learn something. Let's try that out for a bit." Arya's eyes told Sandor exactly what she thought of that and he grinned, not caring. "I like you better this way. Silent. Now, let's see what we can find out about you besides what your mouth tells us."

Sandor showed Arya where to start working in the garden near the cafeteria house. "Now, you understand the directions on what to do. Simple, easy work that takes no real thought or hardship. This is when your mind can wander away...or you can use this silent, simple work to good use. That is what you will do today. Every job will give you a chance to see, hear and discover what goes on around you. The stuff no one else might see. I want you to watch, keep your tape firmly on and just observe things around you. I'm only taking the tape off if you need water. It stays on until the work is done. Then I'm going to ask you what you saw while you were working. If the answer is good enough, I'll take the tape off for the night. If the answer sucks because you were daydreaming or being stubborn, you'll have to wear it all the way until supper time."    

Gregor had only Damon and Jeyne for classes today. It had been pathetic since Damon was shaking and Jeyne kept trying to get off her feet. He had them do some sit ups, stretches and gave up. Gregor used the time to prep things at the house for the work needed upon it. He spent a good amount of time setting traps for the squirrels. A sound of someone mincing into the living room and he looked up. Jeyne stood there and shifted her feet before peering into the gloom to see Gregor. "I am sorry. My revenge will cause you terrible problems and it was wrong. I hope you don't kill your wife or the baby. I hope she doesn't kill you and the baby."

Standing up and dusting off his pants, Gregor smirked. "Thank you for apologizing. I'll forgive you and I'll be seeing you in an hour for detention. That's when we can discuss your punishment. I don't plan to kill Unella or the baby and I'm pretty sure she doesn't plan to kill me or the baby. Thanks for the concern though. Now get." 

Chapter Text

Arya felt very little merit in this sadistic and unfair lesson by this muttering freakazoid hillbilly. She felt pushed to the limit enough to say that to his deformed face if Sandor removed the tape. Except Sandor only removed the tape when he felt like it and by then all Arya cared about was getting to the water bottle. As soon as she finished drinking, the tape was right back on. She traveled back and forth with weeds, wheelbarrows and others passed her as she knelt in the kitchen gardens and then fixed the outer borders on the pathway leading past the different areas of the school.   

 Maybe the real goal was to humiliate or degrade and shame her more. Like her mother would do or some adult shit. Polliver had smiled when he passed her and commented that he loved her new look. That she should wear it more often. Joff stood over her for a full ten minutes in the garden, pointing and laughing, the ugly black stitches on his tongue grossing Arya out. Sandor came by and drove Joff away, said nothing to Arya, just walked off. Once she got really working and others were busy with their own things...she got bored. Her mind started filling up with prank ideas as she mindlessly worked in the vegetable garden. Then something caught her eye, dragged it up and into reality.

Fire red hair against a white uniform caught Arya's attention and she watched as her sister walked, arm in arm with Damon. They walked right past the gardens and never noticed her. Arya couldn't believe it and her mouth was wide open. In spite of that horrific punishment, here was Sansa, comforting and walking with the boy she raped! And Sansa has her own private room plus mentor-ship with the damned owner of the place itself! Fuming, Arya breathed hard and tried to murder the lettuce. Then she stopped and thought about how they didn't see her. What if no one else sees them but her? This bore some small thought.

Arya went back to her work and this time, she started to look around and discovering things might not be so boring after all. Before Arya left the garden she discovered how contraband came into the school. At least the main way, she thinks. No one saw her working silently nearby when the meat truck pulled up. Only a tired Hot Pie and a paler than usual Myranda greeted the driver. They seemed on very friendly terms with the man. Hot Pie was given a six pack of energy drink cans and in return, the cook gave the man pastries and rolls. As Hot Pie brought the meat boxes inside, Myranda flirted with the driver then took him aside which was actually a closer view for Arya. Sadly, the girl was giving the driver a hand job. Afterwards, the man gave Myranda a baggie full of joints, a few packs of cigarettes and the part that boggled Arya the most, he gave her hair products.

Very begrudgingly, Arya began to wonder if Sandor had a point about being the landscape, after all.

Sansa shifted in the wooden chair that was in front of Raff's desk that he gestured for her to sit in. Normally, he has a padded seat there and Sansa could feel the wood right through the damned humiliating pillow. "Today I want to talk to you about what happened with Damon." Sansa turned into a statue, her face was composed and her eyes said, bring it. Raff smirked and crossed one leg smoothly and tossed his magnificent mane of hair. "In a clinical sense, in a logical, cold analytical way, would you say I'm handsome? I am not flirting with you in the least, I am asking an honest question. Just go with it." Sansa stared at him for a moment then uneasily nodded. "Yes, you are very good looking. High class is all over you, too. You could have been a model, truthfully."

Raff sat normally and he beamed at her.

"Thank you. I actually did some modeling briefly in my teens while I was still a wild rich brat. And with looks like these, I could easily get any girl I wanted. Hell, girls I didn't want crushed all over me and nearly got their disgusting brace drool on my designer clothes. I was a fucking pied piper, rich and handsome, smart, good grades, great family lines...I fucking hated it. Couldn't stand it. I didn't want a girlfriend, I enjoyed the occasional pretty cheerleader that would give me a blow job in exchange for a quick dinner at the beach. But my parents made me date boring rich girls that didn't want to be with me anymore than I wanted to be with them.I was just going to be perfect and boring and make my parents happy. Fuck that. So I started to rebel, became big at clubs and parties. All sorts of girls there wanted everything from dates to just a quickie in the damned bathroom. So damned boring after awhile. I needed, craved something else. I was fucking bored, feeling helpless and powerless in my life and transferred that right to those girls. We have something in common, Sansa. We are both rapists. I did it because I needed a target for my feelings, you did it for a reason too. Let's discuss that."  

Sansa stared at Raff in shock. "That's...it's not the same thing at all!" Raff tilted his head. "No? Are you so sure of that, Sansa? If everyone else sees it that way and only you don't...are you sure that you are the right one? It was rape. Just because you didn't physically hurt him doesn't make it any less of a rape. I didn't hurt all of the girls I raped. The first one I drugged and she didn't ever know it happened. Or so I thought. It was a girl I knew that went to a club I enjoyed. She never said a word to me of it, but she stayed away from me when she could after that. Through others I heard she suffered horrid nightmares and anxiety attacks. That was caused by me, even though I was very careful not to hurt her when I raped her."

Wrapping her arms around her, Sansa woodenly nodded. "Yes, I drugged him and made him want to have rough sex with me. I am sorry for it, at least he enjoyed it until that terrible end. Even better is he doesn't remember it." Raff looked into her challenging stone eyes and smirked. "True, he got to enjoy it. Do you know, one of my victims actually orgasmed when I raped her? She wasn't drugged, I brought her to my car and forced her. I only slapped her once when she screamed and I easily overpowered her when she fought me. I raped her and even as she shook her head no, her mouth all bloody, scared I might kill her after, the girl had an orgasm. She sobbed afterwards and it was clear that an orgasm wasn't something she intended. It is biology, Sansa, not an excuse for rape."

Squirming, Sansa looked away then her eyes narrowed as she pierced Raff with her gaze. A predator ready to snatch their prey. "I am sorry for what I did. Yes. But let's remember that the person I chose is also a rapist, possibly, most likely, a murderer too." Raff gave her a charming smile. "Ah, yes! So because he was a rapist and killer in his own right, it was alright to rape him? You did it because you are the judge and jury of Damon? Because you are avenging all those poor victims of his? Or were you doing it simply because it served your needs? Think carefully, Sansa." Shaking her head, Sansa tried to regroup but Raff wasn't giving her time to.

"A rapist feels powerless or out of control in another part of their life. You couldn't get out of here, you couldn't find another way to rise upwards. Powerless and out of control, you saw a boy you could use for your own selfish needs. He was an object, something you needed to gain something for yourself and that was all he was in that moment. But there was more too, a rush of excitement, of such power and control over another?" Raff leaned forward on his desk and put his chin in his hands, eyes beaming, he continued.

"I mean, you have to admit, it's one hell of a rush. And I see that you intend to keep the relationship because he can't recall the truth. Because it's a rush to have such a large lumbering stupid boy to use and manipulate. He is something in your control still and that is such a boost, isn't it? You have won, you have the mentor you want, the room you want, the lumbering worshiper you wanted. At home, there is nothing you control, here you can carve your own niche. It was worth it to hurt Damon, to rape him. My type was innocent stupid teenage girls. Your thing is large easily swayed men. Just like the mother you are trying to run from. Let's discuss that."

Sansa was reasonable, she was stone, ice and clenched her fists hard in her lap, willing herself to silence. Raff spoke softly, almost tenderly, with a dark past look rising forth in his eyes. "Damon will have nightmares for a very long time because of you. He will have flashbacks that will horrify him and confuse him since he thinks they aren't real. He will think he's crazy. Because of you. And he will still trail after you even though you were the one to cause that pain, even though you raped him, bashed your face as he orgasmed, caused the Tickler to nearly rape him, he will still be your loyal lap dog, your punching bag when you need it. Just like your mother-"

"I AM NOT MY MOTHER! I AM SORRY FOR WHAT I DID TO DAMON! I WILL BE HIS FRIEND AND MAKE IT UP TO HIM! I WILL KEEP HIM SAFE, HELP HIM AND CARE FOR HIM FOREVER IF I HAVE TO! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" Sansa stood there, shaking, tears streaming and Raff leaned back, his normal smirk and sarcastic eyes back in place. "Now we are getting somewhere. Have a seat, we have twenty minutes left."

Sandor peeled the tape off Arya's mouth and gave her a bottle of water. After she finished it, he said, "Well? Did you learn anything today or are you wearing the tape until supper time?" Nodding, she wiped her mouth with water to relieve the sting. "I did but I kind of don't want to get anyone in trouble." Rolling his eyes, Sandor asked, "Did you see anyone murder, rape or beat someone? Those are the things I have to report. The rest I probably already know and I don't blabber. I keep my mouth shut and hold information in case I ever need it. That is what I am teaching you to do. So tell me."

Arya told everything from seeing Sansa with Damon to the contraband meat truck. "Good work. I knew about the truck, that is why I set you there. To see if you would notice it, if you didn't I'd know you were fucking off. I figured your sister would put that moron right back into her clutches. No surprise there. Not bad for a first try at it. Guess you don't need anymore tape until tomorrow when we work again. We'll see if you can keep your mouth shut on your own or not. In the meantime, don't gossip, keep your damned secrets to yourself."  

Ramsay stared at Raff with a snarl. Smiling, Raff folded his hands on his desk.

"Let's discuss your misplaced hatred of your sister. I understand it was a shock for you. However, this jealousy and anger towards her is unwarranted. It is painfully clear that your father has never wanted to claim her. Only you are the legitimate son of Roose Bolton. I highly doubt that he will change his will over a feral girl he has tossed away forever. She is never leaving here, Ramsay. Jeyne will either be Kevan's unique feral pet or his claim to fame as having civilized and cured a feral girl. Either way, Jeyne never will leave the school, Roose and Kevan put that right in the contract. So why hate her so much? Hell, sounds like she took the abuse that Bethany might have dealt upon you if Jeyne wasn't there to terrorize. It means nothing to Jeyne that you are related and it shouldn't mean anything to you."

Ramsay wanted desperately to respond but that bitch Cuntella gave him Novocaine in his tongue for the pain. Once Raff had sufficiently covered why Ramsay should leave the dog girl alone, he expounded upon length how Ramsay still has a chance to find a talent and actually leave the school someday. That led the nurse and therapist straight into discussing how bothering Damon and playing games with Theon will only increase his troubles. Thank goodness Raff ran out of time just as he began to expound on why Ramsay might need to always have someone involved in his crimes. If only the stupid therapist knew. Fuck him.

Theon fidgeted in the seat until Raff wanted to shake him. He was pale from being ill but that wasn't why Theon was agitated. He was scared, he looked like someone who has been found out, caught. And it was very true. "Theon, earlier today Unella wanted to examine you and you didn't want her to. Even though it's clear you were ill. She insisted and noted you were very arrogant, nearly enough for her to call me or Polliver, before you let her examine you without your clothing. Lower back, stomach, buttocks and thighs had small burns, bruises, deep bite marks, cuts and my personal favorite, Ramsay's initials carved into your left buttock."

"I wanted him to do those things. I'm kinky, okay?" Raff laughed. "I agree that you might enjoy bdsm but this is overboard, don't you think? And if it was truly consensual, why do you look so scared right now? I am certainly not threatening you, am I? While Ramsay was in math class, Polliver tossed the bedrooms today. And guess who's room wins the prize for most interesting found items? The serial killer cards. The toys and weapons he had, both homemade and smuggled, one of those knives has been missing from the kitchen for a week now. I think you know where that turned up. Talk to me, Theon." Trying his hardest to smile and shrug, Theon responded with such a false airiness that Raff winced.

"He is my friend, my only one and yeah, he's wild and a bit dangerous, that's my problem, no one else's. I am fine and I think I might even be in love with him." Raff leaned forward and put his chin in his hands. "Well, before you came to this school, did you have friends?" Theon shook his head. "Not really. My family wasn't a real friendly one and the neighborhood wasn't either. Plus mother being sick...and my dad wasn't well either....I wasn't really able to make connections with anyone but my sister. She was my friend, I guess. Then I was alone again because I killed her...no one else here wants to be my friend. Ramsay did. He reached out to me, he makes me feel good, he just...gets intense over things. I mess up a lot and set him off."

"Do you think just because Ramsay didn't have a romantic relationship with Damon that he wasn't manipulating him? Are you aware of how much Ramsay manipulates you now? There are others you can make friends with if you chose to. Ramsay made that difficult to happen, he wanted to isolate you. To control you. He marks you to own you and because he is a sadist with mental issues, big ones. Theon, do you understand the danger you are in with Ramsay?" Theon shook his head. "Ramsay says that I am nearly perfect for him. He says that he loves me and I love him. We are fated to be together this way. He is my master and I am his slave and bdsm is consensual! Stop trying to make it way more than it is! Please, just stay out of it!"

Raff shook his head. "I can't, Theon. Unella and I both agree. We usually do not get involved in Polliver's dorm settings but we are concerned for you. I have already sent the orders to Polliver. As of tonight, your new roommate is Arya. Sorry that all the other males are taken." Theon paled further and started to cry. It was only a few tears but Raff gave him a tissue. "Why are you crying, Theon?" "Ramsay will think I caused this. Thanks a lot, you asshole therapist." "Due to the stress you are under, I am going to let that one pass. Our time is up and you have detention in a few minutes, I believe. For your own good, stay away from Ramsay. I cannot stop your relationship, but I can make sure he has less access to you at least."

Chapter Text

Polliver spread his arms out wide, smiling at the students lined up against the wall.

"Ducklings, oh my wayward little ducklings! We have new room assignments! We have detentions to hand out! First, I have tossed your rooms and so many of my ducklings have five days of detention for contraband. The only ones who are excused from this are Sidebitch, Goldilocks and Oscar since they were the only pathetic kids with nothing of interest. Changes in rooming assignments, Death Row and Princess are new roomies and the other room belongs to Target and SuperD. Don't bother quacking, I don't care."

When the quacking came anyway Polliver slammed his baton against the wall next to Ramsay's head for silence.

"Sidebitch, you are the lucky winner today! Watch television, take a nap, read a book or write a sonnet. You are free until supper, my fine feathered friend. As for the rest of you, let's see who goes where! Oh, that's easy to answer! Everyone for now on will have detention at Gregor and Unella's new home improvement horror until it's finished. So keep wracking up those detentions, kiddies. They'll end up with a house nearly as nice as Kevan's with a full patio and pool!"

Stopping his pacing in front of Ramsay, he pointed the baton at him.

"Except for you. It's too dangerous for little serial killers on so much painkiller to be near anything that you could hurt yourself or others on. I am your detention today, Death Row. Isn't that a just a warm bit of delicious for us, sweetums? Why are there so many ducklings still staring at me? Get yourselves waddling on over to the monster house! Move it! Sidebitch, can you not understand the concept of time off? Go check out your new room or go watch a cartoon, something bright with songs to clap to!"

The others were far ahead of Jeyne, her mincing steps were getting harder to take.

Raff came from the clinic and caught up with her halfway there. Handing her a water bottle and a painkiller, Raff smiled at her. "You did very well today. I was happy to hear you apologized to everyone and both teachers talked to me at lunch about how well you did in your classes. Giving a verbal book report, helping Damon out and asking for assistance nicely. I heard from Polliver that Ramsay was trying to bully you and you stayed calm, walked away. Good work, Jeynie, I'm proud of you. Good luck with Unella and Gregor."

Jeyne smiled a tiny bit to herself until the house loomed into view. Taking a deep breath, Jeyne slowly headed for the other kids clustered in front of the house with Gregor.

Seeing Jeyne hobble into the line made Gregor smile and he boomed with cheer. "Ah, thank you for joining us! I was afraid my fancy invitation to our tea party wasn't sent to the right address!" Jeyne muttered an apology and stood next to Arya, trying not to shift on her feet and failing. Gregor smiled at them all warmly. "How lovely of you all to offer to use your detention time to learn something about fixing up a house! Truly, I am feeling misty eyed over it, darlings! Nanny Gregor will guide all of you through it and we have all sorts of safety gear. I suggest you use it because if you don't and I catch you, there is NO safety gear against your Nanny!"

Gregor pointed to Arya and Theon. "Consider yourselves the Squirrel Squad." He pointed at Joff and Loras. "Wreck N Dump." A thick finger stabbed at Sansa. "Stripper Team." The finger turned to Jeyne. "I have a special assignment for you, dear. It's going to be perfect for a girl who is in need of a little correction. Wait there and stop shifting your feet." The others looked at Jeyne like it might be her last day on earth. She turned red and looked at the ground.

Soon they were all thinking it might be their last day on earth too and that's when Gregor beckoned to her.

Jeyne walked into the house behind Gregor, watching Arya and Theon head into battle against an orange couch. Arya seemed more comfortable with it than Theon. "Haven't you ever had to deal with a squirrel in your house before?" The boy shook his head. "I used to get rats. Squirrels always look shifty." Sansa was peeling off wallpaper in the hallway. Jeyne heard Joff and Loras arguing about who was moving the washer versus the dryer. Gregor yelled "Morons! Both of you carry anything heavy together. I said that, remember? And Joff, don't you dare take that back brace off, or I'll twist your spine for you!"

She followed Gregor to the staircase. "Don't try and hold the railing, it will collapse. A girl like you should be able to find your balance, even with sore feet." He was right, Jeyne waited until no one was looking and ran up the stairs using her hands more than her feet. Unella was in the main bedroom wearing a messy bun, streaked in dirt from head to toe. Looking up from where she was shoveling trash into a barrel, Unella muttered, "I would rather you brought me something more useful for this place, like, say, a blowtorch." Gregor pulled Jeyne into the room and tried to shut the door. It fell to the ground with a crash that made Jeyne jump and Unella swear.

Polliver steered Ramsay to the couch and tossed him down on it.

"We are going to have a very special detention tonight. I have spliced together a little show for you!" Groaning, Ramsay watched as the grainy footage started. Clips of executions specifically of murderers from the early ages all the way to present day. In as specific detail as possible, even a few taped botched ones so bad that Ramsay flinched. One time Ramsay tried to shut his eyes and yawn, just to have Polliver whisper, "Ever see that scene in Clockwork Orange where Alex has his eyes kept open by those metal devices?"

Ramsay's eyes sprang open and he continued to watch them finally reach the day of the electric chair. That is when Polliver served burnt popcorn and Ramsay sneered at the man chuckling at his own joke.

Jeyne stood bravely in front of the eventual spouse and child killers and awaited the pain.

"Those students downstairs will only work here during detention hours. Not you, you are going to work here everyday, weekends too, until this entire house is fixed up. No excuses unless I or Gregor personally give it." Jeyne nodded and waited for one of them to produce whatever dreadful weapon they would use upon her before she works. Instead Gregor gave her a smile and announced, "Let's start you off with something easy. Like helping Sandor with the over-clogged septic tank." Within a half an hour, Jeyne was wishing she could have just taking a beating with the pieces of the banister or something.

Things went smoothly for a while in spite of Theon's startled shrieks every now and then. Until Arya screamed, "Stop, stop! That nest isn't that same, I think it's...EVACUATE! FAMILY OF SKUNKS COMING-ARRHHHHGGGG!"

"Now, you have to admit that was a fun movie, right? Yeah. Okay, so let's play a game. It's just like your serial killer game, in fact, it is your actual game but I made some adjustments and additions to your cards. These are only the serial killers caught and convicted. This section here, this one is full of killers with partners that turned on them, killed them or gave them up to authorities. I will read them each out loud to you and then let's see how well you do! Ready? Good! Oh, look, here is one of my favorites! The Candy killer...he had two accomplices and one of them shot him over a victim of theirs."

Ramsay wished for his tongue to still be full of numbing agent. For the first time ever, Ramsay didn't feel like playing the serial killer game. The fact that Polliver besmirched it by touching it, changing it and making it no longer Ramsay's game, it would assure one thing. Ramsay would never play that game again. He will have to make a new kind of game instead now.

Chapter Text

Sara and Mari were both running up to the big house in bare feet and mud stained clothing as the fanciest car pulled up. Not that Lancel doesn't have lots of fancy cars, but they've seen all of them. Got to ride in most of them too. This one was different, it was the color of gold and the doors went up like a spaceship. To their disappointment an astronaut didn't get out. Instead it was just an older pretty man with a boring suit and briefcase. Then Mari and Sara saw the golden hand and the man became interesting again fast.

He must be scared that they would bully him because he leaped against his car when they both ran forward towards him. Sara stopped then, thinking of reading Peter Pan in school recently. Peter Pan's enemy had a hook for a hand. Sara grabbed Mari and shoved her behind her own small frame then gave a frightening frown to the man. "If you give us candy, puppies or kittens, I will steal them and run screaming. Do you know who's gonna beat the daylights outta you?" The man stammered then ventured, "Lancel?" Mari peeked around Sara to announce, "Our sisters, silly! Then Lancel!"

Nodding, the man smiled and leaned back against the car uneasily as the three year olds dirty fingers came closer. "Well, now I am simply afraid you might steal my hand and my car! I should scream for your sisters and Lancel to save me!" The girls giggled. "I gotta show Lancel that I gots an A on my math test today! But we has to sneak in the front cause if Clara sees us in back she won' lettus in! We's too busy to take baths and no one'll let us wash up in the pool." The man seemed to consider this problem with them. "What if I go in and bring Lancel out to you? That way you won't make the house dirty and you won't have to worry about getting clean?"

Mari clapped. "Okay!" Sara shook her head. "Don't know you." The man grinned and crouched down, speaking in a confidential tone. "Want to know why I can ask Lancel to meet you outside? Because I am Jaime Lannister and I live here too. Just not as often as my cousin Lancel does. Has he mentioned me yet?" Sara nodded. "Oh yeah, he said you has a metal hand. But this is one's gold." Jaime grimaced as the little one finally managed to put her grimy hands upon his gold hand. A voice came from the porch and Jaime sighed in true relief.

"Girls? I see you've met my cousin Jamie! Please back up, you have scared him into submission. Look at the great lawyer, a great Lannister man on his knees, begging my tiny amazons for his life!" Jaime stood up as the girls flocked to Lancel who put a hand on each of their heads. "Not begging for my life, Lancel. I was however about to be relieved of my hand, if not my car. I was also threatened with a beat down by other sisters as well as told if I had candy, puppies or kittens, they would steal them! Are we employing child terrorists now, dearest cousin? What have you been up to while I was off doing boring work for my father? When I left two months ago to console Cersei about Joff's entrance into your former hell home, I don't remember being mugged by small children!"

Lancel went to speak but both girls clamored for immediate attention. "Scuse me? Scuse me? Is IMPORTANT, LANCEL!" With a quick gesture of patience to Jaime, he leaned down to smile at the youngest who bellowed. "What is important, Mari?" The little girl grabbed Lancel's hand to pull herself higher to whisper a very loud and juicy proclamation in his ear. "Toads went to SPACE! I founds a ASSRONAD HEMMETS! TWO!" Sara frowned, then looked at Lancel with a prim and serious face. "I sawed bottles too! Belinda said toads musta bin drunk in space! Is that bad or good?" Jaime laughed but Lancel seemed to give it thought. "Well, if they were humans, it would be very bad. But they are toads so I think it's good and safe for them. Now, Sara, did you have something in that grubby fist of yours to show me?"

With a huge smile the girl nearly shoved her now smudged beyond legible paper in Lancel's face. "I gots an A!" Jaime watched in fascination as Lancel hugged the filthy girl and the other one too. Lancel stood up and Jaime shook his head. "Since when you did you become such a father figure? Did you adopt a bunch of needy children from some war torn area or something?" Sara piped up. "Lancel isn't our daddy. An angel killed our daddy!" Jaime tilted his head but then something even more interesting happened. Lancel kept the same smile and the girls showed utterly no fear when he turned and said to the little ones, "Time for silent children. Go play now, girls." Even though there seemed no threat, both children nodded and turned to wander off instantly.

"Holy hells, Lancel! I wish you were around Joff as a child! Hells, maybe you are truly the next ruler of that school your father has!" Lancel smirked. "Of course I will be. My father wouldn't have it any other way, would he?"

Jaime met most of the sisters as he got settled in and had supper with Lancel. He waited until the women were all beyond the hearing of the dining room before he spoke of them. "Lancel, I was shocked when my father told me of your latest venture. I still say you are the first and only bleeding heart to come out of your father's school. And only Tyrion was ever labeled a Lannister bleeding heart before you. Difference is, my brother was sent in that way, you came out of there that way. Let's just hope you actually get your money's worth out of these girls."

Lancel put down his fork and gave his cousin a dark look that slightly unnerved Jaime, as did Lancel's way too soft but outraged voice. "Let's hope I get my money's worth? Do you have any idea what these girls have been through? All of them from oldest to youngest? Even you heard rumors of this Craster, right? The youngest, Jaime, consider that? Consider these females giving birth to watch their father molest their own-" Jaime put up his golden hand and interrupted him. "Stop! I will fucking throw up on your fancy new plates! I get it and that's fucking horrendous! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it the way it came out. Of course, what happened was terrible and helping them is the right thing to do. But...shouldn't they be in someplace with therapy...a battered women's shelter or something?"

"Not and keep their first names, not and be safe. This is the only way I can really help them and I intend to keep them safe until they feel ready to be on their own." Lancel looked ready for a challenge and that worried Jaime a little. "Hey, got it, calm yourself. I won't interfere in your projects and you stay out of mine, we've always worked that way, right?" Lancel took a deep breath and then nodded, his smile blooming forth slowly. "I am sorry. It's a sore spot for me, too many fathers just get away with any abuse they want. Too many authority figures to always keep the children down as objects to create rather than tiny humans that crave love and nurturing to mold them into the right kind of adult."

That night Jaime watched Lancel go visit with the girls at the barbecue pit. They all were gathered around Lancel, roasting marshmallows and listening intently as he told a story. Shaking his head, Jaime started to drink and go watch a football game.

"That angel that saved you by killing your very bad father, she is trapped like you were." Lancel told them with a somber face. Janice, an inquisitive thirteen year old who was jaded far beyond her years, leaned forward. "Those two with her? Are they her pimps or her daddy and uncle? I was worried that they'd kill her. Something about them was so way off, like scarier and creepier than father and that's saying something." Lancel gave a tiny smile but it was a sad one.

"Harold and Bob. They are very cruel and dangerous and the angel is controlled by them. Forced to have sex with old men. There are so many cruel adults out there, not all are cruel like your father or like Harold and Bob. My own father is one of those other kinds of cruel. He runs a school full of cruel staff to torment angels in many different ways. It was my own father that orders Harold and Bob to take your angel on those terrible jobs. My father likes to dig into the cracks of his students until he can break them open and fill them with whatever he needs. One angel learns to have sex to learn secrets, another learns to spy a different way, others forced to marry in order to leave, others learn to kill or steal or do anything to leave. Some never leave, some stay and think that is good enough. Some die there because of abuse or  neglect. They use violence of any sort needed to get what they want out of the trapped angels. Physical, mental, sexual abuse, anything at all and if my cruel father doesn't find a talent, a use for an angel, that angel tends to disappear."

Lancel looked around at the solemn but teary eyed faces from Clara to Mari. The younger ones understood very little but they understood cruelty and trapped angels like the one who saved them. Giving the girls a glimpse of his own tears, he bravely continued speaking into the heavy silence.

"I barely saved myself from my cruel father. That's why I had to save you when I saw the chance to. Because I know what it's like to be surrounded by cruel adults that strip you away into pawns for their own sick uses. I have not yet been able to save those poor angels at the school, but I will. I was able to save you and that gives me hope. Hope that maybe together, as a family, a real one, not like the ones with cruel adults, maybe together, we can change things. We can find a way to seek justice for those angels, to strike back at those cruel adults. Let them all know we won't stand for such treatment anymore. That angel of yours, she was hurt because of what you did, they almost killed her. They won't let her live much longer, I don't think. It hurts me to think of how she will die. But she knew the consequences when she did it, Harold and Bob were always very clear about such things."

Half the girls were openly sobbing, others just somberly watching Lancel's anguished eyes. Suddenly, Sara cried out, "Gilly! Oh, no! Our sister Gilly is'n angel now! Save Gilly! With terror, hurt and wild resolution in her haunted eyes, Sara bellowed in a voice clogged with tears, "Imma gettin even the TOADS!" Clara reached for Sara to hug and hush her but then Mari brayed sobs. "Bob n Harold gonna hurt Gilly?" Lancel picked up the tiny one before the sisters could and set her on his knee, kissing her forehead gently. "Not yet they haven't. She is very useful to my father and that pleases him. As long as she is pleasing, my father has no reason to hurt her. I am sure she is very obedient at all times." With a pale troubled face the nineteen year old Tammy shook her head and bit at her nails. "No! See, tha's why father sold her off to the man! For a night wi' a girl for him to punish in place of Gilly! Gilly never listen'd, got the worst beatings of all!"

Lancel hugged the sobbing three year old on his lap and gave a reassuring gentle smile to them all. "Listen, you survived your father until you were saved by an angel. Gilly will survive until we save her and I promise you that I will help you save her. We can save all of them, I think. I have some secret weapons already in place." Clara looked nervous and asked, "Like...a gun?" Lancel gave a soft charming laugh and patted Clara's hand. "No, dear, don't even think such terrible things. I would never put any of you in such kinds of danger that warranted a gun. No, I meant weapons as in other things. Information can be power, so is proof of information. Soon we can have enough power to make the school collapse on the cruel heads and let the angels free. Then we can all turn to other cruel adults and let them see we shall not suffer them any longer."

 

Chapter Text

Even without the addition of the traveling to Riverlands and back this time, the ride home after the school visit felt much longer. An eternity of watching the moon pass over the predator black eyes of Cat. Their loyal bodyguard and driver Jory had the soundproof and blacked out partition firmly in place. Ned sat next to his wife and Robb and Bran sat across from her. It wasn't clear who was most uncomfortable of the males. No one dared to venture any conversation for most of the ride back, lest it bring the woman's bitter gaze upon the hapless speaker.

Cat was bloodthirsty, it was clear and none wished to be her pound of flesh over the girls. Not that anything bad had happened at all. That was clearly the true issue was that the girls both had been doing fine. Sansa was back to perfect looks, toner, tanner and cheerful, happy to jabber about everything. Even Arya had average grades, no more than a scattering of detentions and a mentor that praised her gruffly to them. Arya also looked tan, muscular and most surprisingly, not a chatterbox. She spoke and cheerfully but with careful thought. Allowing herself to listen to others more and all but Cat seemed impressed.

What all three males thought and not one would say was that what drove Cat crazy was the girls weren't scared. They didn't flinch from her gaze, they didn't wince from her talons and her words didn't bring fear to their eyes. She has lost them to Kevan and it was driving her crazy because Cat never loses. And the other thing none of them would ever say to her as long as they wanted to keep their tongues was that they were GLAD the girls escaped. They would also never admit they felt some jealousy that they couldn't do the same.

That is why when the car began to head for the fishery rather than home, none of them were really surprised. Ned sighed and softly tried.

"Cat, not while we have Bran in the car, please? Why don't we drop the two of you off and Robb can come with me to see Balon tonight if you want." Cat's head nodded towards him fast and her beady eyes pierced as her words came to peck hard. "To do what? Both of you would come back tonight to see Balon and ask for the money he owes the Lannisters? To beat him and threaten him some more? Has that worked the last three or twelve times? The Lannisters lose money on him and he is a waste. Bad enough we all pay for his son and now we get Tywin snarling at you over Balon's lack of productivity and he tells you to fix it! So I am fixing it! Before Roose does, dammit."

Ned threw his hands up. "Cat! Roose mentioned it that once at the first school meeting when he was upset! He didn't follow through, did he? And at the school visit today, he spoke with us and said nothing of it." Striking back fast, Cat's voice a beak catching a mouse, cracking it's spine in half. "Roose said nothing of it tonight because he plans to follow through. He gave you his one warning, Ned, last month. I am not allowing him to take the glory of bringing the deed to the fishery to Tywin. That old bastard will give Roose the running of it, it should be us! If he does this first, we lose our place to him and that isn't something I will ever tolerate. Bad enough I have to bow down to Cersei and now Kevan! Bad enough that you have to kiss Tywin Lannister's ass! Roose will never get ahead of this family!"

It was useless and no other words were spoken until Jory parked at Balon's home. Cat stared at Bran with stony eyes. "Stay in the car. Put on one of your games on your cell but no texting or calling anyone until I return. Ned, you are on guard duty, Robb will assist me inside." Cat and Robb put on their black leather gloves as they headed for the back door. 

Roose was also troubled by the same things as his former classmate. His second visit had been quite troubling indeed. It seems all three of his children prefer the school to the arms of their real father. He expected Jeyne to be distant, Ramsay to be hostile and Damon to be friendly but perhaps distracted from his mental state still. Ramsay had been polite and cheerful which made his counselor with the baton burst into laughter. Roose waited for Ramsay to drop the act but he never did. He was answering questions with vacant but respectful responses. The boy's eyes worried him greatly, they were pure rage but the rest was all pure charm. According to his teachers his grades went up slightly but he still got a good amount of detentions. 

The doctor and nurse both felt grave concerns with Ramsay. Roose did too and wondered what the hell the boy was up to now? He was told that Damon and Theon had been removed from Ramsay for the most part. They suspect that Ramsay bullies Damon, threatens Jeyne and that he still continues his abusive relationship with Theon in private. No matter the coaxing or the threat, Roose couldn't say anything to Ramsay that got through that polite smile. His face was a carved mask of happy over a hidden face of hate that Roose could feel blazing off him.

Seeing Damon was the next shocker. The boy looked better than ever before. He was tan, muscular and happy to announce he chose a mentor. Gregor Clegane, of all things. The teachers said Damon has gone up a half grade and is a very diligent student. Damon told Roose of his new friends. Sansa, Loras and Jeyne. Roose was fine with everything but the friends, two of those were very suspect. What truly set Roose's warning bells off was how Damon treated him, like a respected and tolerated visitor. Something about Damon was very distant and then the stupid boy confirmed it.

"Sir, I am not like I used to be. I don't go near Ramsay. He is a bad duckling and I don't want to be that ever again. Ramsay is not changing or learning yet and I need to be a better person now. I don't want to be around him...or you. There is no need anymore. I am happy here and I don't think I am ever leaving so there is no need for us to visit." When Roose tried to pressure the boy, Damon stood up fast and nearly ran to Gregor. With a nod, the man escorted Damon away and nothing made the arrogant giant bring him back.

The last straw for Roose was seeing Jeyne. She had sprouted dark hair all over her head in crazy spikes now and didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Her body was tanner, more muscle than before and she wasn't bone thin. The short girl was slender but strong and her eyes looked right into his, even though he saw how much effort it was for her. Jeyne stood as tall as she could and her hands were clasped behind her, chin up, a fierce grin on her face. Every word was slow, clear and with grave intent. "Hello, father. I am a person now. That means as a person I can tell you that I don't want to see you. I do not want reminders of the past. That is all you are now, father, the past." Roose wanted to slap her but her damned handsome leash holder was right there smirking.

Roose couldn't change what Kevan has done. At least not without any backup from Tywin. If Roose couldn't take control of anything else like his own children, a problem he always seems to have, he can control other things. Like taking care of Balon himself and letting the Starks choke on their pride. Except Roose parked, walked the two blocks through the damned sand just to reach that little shit house and see the Starks leaving it. Roose simmered, hearing Cat's voice snap at Ned. "Now, you will bring this deed for the fishery and Balon's will to Tywin. We shall drop you off near his house and with luck, I'll get the boys home in time to sleep before morning. It isn't proper that they are out so late, no thanks to their father. If Tywin isn't awake when you get there, then I want you to sit and wait all night in the damned driveway if you have to!"

He waited while the Starks left, then made a quick call as he headed back to his own car. "Luton? Take your best men and burn the Greyjoy fishery to the ground as well as Balon's home. Make sure that you do it in exactly the same pattern the Starks burnt down those warehouses last month for the Lannisters. Thank you."

Tywin was indeed awake when Ned showed up which was a bit of a surprise considering the late hour. More of a surprise was Ned being ushered in at the point of several guns. The elderly man asked how Ned thought that burning down the properties helped increase profits in any way. He asked how Ned thought to presume to act so rashly as to murder and arson without orders to? Ned might have answered but Tywin nodded to his men, not interested in answers. The guns cracked across Ned's skull so the men could take him outdoors. Once they got him out back, the guns all cracked again, this time bullets went through Ned's skull.

Chapter Text

Two months is a short amount of time in the adult world and an eternity in a child or teenager's world.

For Unella and Gregor it was a dreadful clock spinning towards their wedding and parenthood. The house went quicker than they thought it would and each improvement felt like another nail into a coffin. On the very same day Gregor and Unella almost came to blows over whether their wedding vows would contain the word obey, they got the worst news. Raff had been in full gales of laughter when he announced they were having twins. He found himself running for his life. Gregor got drunk, Unella raged and cried in the woods for hours. Raff won the betting pool.

Kevan informed Gregor and Unella that as soon as the house was done, he expected to marry them. Later that evening they had panic/hate sex and afterwards Unella asked bitterly, "Do you think it would be unethical of me to brainwash a student into burning the house down for us?" Gregor shrugged. "Do you really want to start from the beginning again? Kevan would marry us in the ashes and make us start shoveling to build it back up." The next day Unella caught a glimpse of Harold and Bob knitting pink yarn and she walked over. "Are we getting new students, gentlemen?"

They smiled in unison and Bob replied pleasantly, "No, these are booties and mittens for your twins, Unella. We will make matching bonnets and blankets as well." As the doctor ran away, Harold shrugged. "I am sure she didn't mean to be so rude. I hear that pregnant women are often emotional."

Two months in the lives of the students was a hard driven lifetime of tough lessons drilled into their heads. Some of the lessons were good and some were not, but lessons were learned regardless.

Arya learned how to be invisible and gain secrets then give them to Sandor. She also would decide which secrets to offer him. That wasn't part of the deal, of course, but Arya couldn't give up everything. Sandor himself taught her that by his own actions which as she has learned, can be louder than words. She kept Theon's secrets for him though if he hadn't begged her so desperately, she might have told someone.

It wasn't more than a week before Arya became interested in what Theon was doing alone in the room when he thought no one was around. Sneaking into the room ahead of time, she hid in the closet, making sure to leaving it open a crack the same way she had that morning before they left the room. Arya intended to just spy silently and keep the information, whatever it was. She lasted until Theon dug the razor into his thigh and started sobbing quietly while the blood flowed onto the trash bag Theon had sat on. When Arya burst out of the closet to staunch the blood and yell for help, Theon freaked out.

He slapped a hand across her mouth and started to beg and plead.

"Please, don't tell! They will blame Ramsay and he already won't cut me or leave any marks anymore. I have to beg him just to fuck me now. He won't hurt me the same way and he was the only one who could do that for me! I couldn't even hurt myself enough, I tried to hurt myself enough to keep seeing what my father did to my sister! I tried to hurt enough so he couldn't hurt me, I tried to hurt myself enough to pay for killing my sister instead of saving her! I never could and Ramsay can, I need him, I want him to hurt me and I love him so much, no one understands that! I begged him to hurt me more and more, Arya, because I want to hurt. And now he is mad, he thinks I made them think it was his fault! Ramsay says I am not loyal, like that fucking retard, Damon! Now Ramsay is talking to Joff, not me! He will only see me if I beg him for days first and then it's only for quick sex. If he doesn't hurt me then I have to hurt myself, okay? Please, you can't tell, they will think it's Ramsay! If Ramsay gets punished for me hurting myself, he will hate me and then I'm going to beg him to kill me."    

That was the day that Arya discovered she might not be as much of a stone heart like her mother or sister, after all. She refused to think of Theon's blood on her hands and firmly swore to keep his secret. However, Arya made him promise to limit his cutting and be very careful with it. Besides, Arya reasoned that it was safer that Theon does the slicing rather than a crazy boy like Ramsay.

Two long months Hot Pie worked before the teachers tested him and gave him a diploma. So much sweating, cooking, catering to the needy staff, biting his lip no matter what. Just as he felt he could endure no more, that Polliver had been full of shit, maybe, it happened. Kevan called for Hot Pie to his monthly report and gave him the good news.

"Congratulations, Hot Pie! A diploma has been achieved, your behavior has been excellent. Not a single detention, not a single bad therapy report. Glowing recommendations from every single member of staff! Even your fellow students have no quarrels with you. In fact, most of them seem to view you as staff already. Jeyne and Myranda remain your closest friends and yet you do not allow that friendship to impede with your loyalties or duties. I am impressed, boy."

Kevan raised his eyebrow at the flushed boy with such hopeful eyes. "Well, I suppose it's time for you to start your training to be staff next year. Once Unella and Gregor vacate their cabins, you might as well pick one out." Hot Pie saw a challenging twinkle in his eyes but he had been well coached by Polliver. "Take anything Kevan offers you with happiness. Do not ask a single question, do not ask for a single thing more than he gives you."

With a large honest smile, Hot Pie gushed, "Thank you so much, Sir! I am honored and I promise not to let you down! I will work twice as hard to prove myself to you and honor this school! I am so grateful to you and Polliver. The whole staff has helped me and this school has been the best thing to ever happen to me. I really mean that, Sir!" And Hot Pie did mean it. Kevan saw that and it was enough for him to award Polliver with a staggering credit at his favorite online gaming store.

Jeyne has learned that steps forward are painful, long after her feet stopped hurting. It was hard to always be a Person but she tried and never gave up. She worked hard to be an Attentive, Respectful Student in class. Jeyne made sure to be Good Homework Buddies and Helpful In Class to Damon. Even Gregor and Unella had told Raff that Jeyne was Hard Working And Willing To Accept Punishment. It was very hard, she was tired and Jeyne had trouble learning how to do the tasks that was expected of her. But she would learn and complete the work no matter how long it took her.

The very hardest of all was to ignore Ramsay and Joff when they mocked and taunted her. Sometimes when they think no one will catch them, they like to throw rocks at her. Jeyne is forced to run away on all fours to get far enough away and their laughter burns her. Their hatred of her is something she has decided to see as a test. If she can control her temper and be a Person That Does Not Engage, then it is another step forward. So Jeyne ignores them, runs away on all fours and cries in hiding, but doesn't lose her temper. She doesn't lose her Person. No revenge plots, no biting, snarling or even a reaction, not a word. A Person will be less boring than a feral and the boys will lose interest in her.

There were some really bright spots, the big rewards that kept Jeyne going in spite of what she endured. After Polliver had to remind Jeyne four times that her shift at hell improvement was over and it was dinner, after he saw how well she did handling Ramsay and Joff, a miracle occurred. With extreme casualty, Polliver started to call her Jeyne, like a Person! Jeyne had embarrassed herself by gasping, jumping up and down then running to tell Raff who warmly congratulated her. That night, Hot Pie made a small cake for Jeyne and Myranda gave her a pretty bracelet as a gift.

A really huge thing for Jeyne was being near all the tools. Being trusted to use them and Jeyne trusting herself to use them. At first when Gregor showed her the tools and how to use them, she shrank away. "The girls...nail gun. The sounds...trigger me. Please, I..." But Gregor was firm with her even though Unella had argued loudly with him in front of Jeyne about it. After Gregor finally made Unella storm away fuming, he turned to the shaking pale girl trying to stay a Person.

He put a large hand on her shoulder, swallowing it whole. The hand did not hurt, but it was heavy in a solid anchoring kind of way.

"Listen to your Nanny Gregor, Jeyne. A Person uses tools, they are for building, for creating, not just for hurting or for causing bad memories. I know you can do this. I know that these sounds remind you of that damned fucked up dungeon your father kept for his victims. I know that you would be locked in that cage nearby and you could hear the sounds of the tools, the screams of the victims. I know you and Raff spent a long time talking about that and I know it's hard for you to forget it. Talking about it is a good step forward but so is facing it head on, Jeyne. I will stay here with you while you use any new tool until you see that you are safe. But you are going to do it, Jeyne, even if it takes you all day."

It took several false starts, she sobbed and even threw up twice before Jeyne managed to use the handsaw. Each tool was hard all over again but Jeyne kept trying and Gregor never got impatient or angry no matter how long it took her to learn to use each tool. The day Jeyne managed a chainsaw and a nail gun all by herself without any prompting, Gregor told her she was A Person Capable Of Being Responsible With Tools. When she used tools without supervision the first few times it scared her enough to cry but she didn't give up. Now Jeyne is proud to be able to work as an Independent Person on projects. As a way of thanking Gregor and Unella for the breakthrough, Jeyne gave them a present of her own.

Gregor and Unella were speechless when they entered the house one day to find half of it plastered in blurry printer paper. All full of articles on how to have a good marriage and how to raise children in a happy home. Articles on how to reduce stress and see the red flags of dangerous behavior. There was also a book from the small school library on how to tell the signs of a potential murderer within the home. Luckily, Jeyne had not been expecting any thanks and had already headed for her supper.

Chapter Text

Damon was becoming the superhero and superstar that Sansa had predicted. There were good days and bad ones, of course. Days when nothing made him shake but he did anyway and nights that he would dream of Sansa's pretty face smashed and the Tickler dragging him away, after climbing out of the storybook. Sometimes Damon would see Ramsay and Joff throw rocks at Jeyne and he would fight with them. Other times they would not stop taunting him and Damon would fight them more. He got detention for fighting, of course. Damon was always sorry for letting himself down by letting his temper get the better of him.

He hated being given detention but Damon discovered a good thing out of it. The work at Gregor's house was hard but he found peace in it. Damon told Polliver about this and was given the suggestion of asking Gregor to mentor him. Feeling like an idiot, Damon shuffled his feet after knocking on the hell house's front door, head down, practicing what to say. All the advice on how to ask from Polliver has fled his head in his nervousness. If the man said no and laughed, Damon will probably cry like a baby or something stupid like trip on his feet on his way down the steps.

"Gregor had opened the door and waited while Damon froze. With a sigh, Gregor leaned over the boy and spoke directly into his ear. "I don't need a human door, lad, but I thank you for the offer." The giant pulled back and raised his eyebrows as Damon stammered an apology then tripped over his own feet as he tried to rush away. Gregor caught the boy by the collar of his shirt before Damon plummeted off the steps to crack his skull open. Setting Damon back on the porch, Gregor kept hold of the flustered student's thick neck. Speaking in the same calm but merciless tone he offers Jeyne, Gregor let the boy regain his chance to try again.

"Damon, don't run from what you came here for. Never be stupid enough to throw away a good thing. I think you came here to ask me a question. I don't want you to be afraid to ask it. Go ahead, duckling, ask Nanny Gregor. We can stand here all day and night if we have to." Taking a deep breath, Damon messed up the question only once then stammered it out. "Could you be my mentor? I like the work....it calms me, Polliver said to ask you...I'm sorry, it's stupid, I know..." The hand on Damon's neck got tighter until his babble ended. "Thank you for asking me, Damon. Nanny Gregor is always happy to take a duckling under his tender care."

He worked hard for Gregor, Damon worked hard in school too. Jeyne helped him and Damon was starting to become friends with her slowly. Gregor approved of this and often had them working together on the house. One day after Gregor watched the two of them laughing, fucking off, throwing dead squirrels at each other rather than in the trash, he sent Jeyne to help Unella inside while he sent Damon up the ladder to clean out the gutters.  "Damon, do you see that you help Jeyne too? She is trying to act more like a regular kid and she learns by watching what you do. Do you see how you can be an example for someone else? So when you fight...Jeyne learns that is how students fight. When you work hard, help others, Jeyne learns that is what to do. Just like how you watched what Ramsay did and learned from it."

Gregor helped steady the ladder Damon was on as the boy frowned. "Ramsay gave the wrong lessons and even though part of me knew it was wrong....I did it anyway, because he was my friend and I followed him. He was my example, my first real example. I am slow, I know that. My brain don't work the way it should, I guess. Jeyne is slow too, cause of being feral. I am her example and if I fight Ramsay and Joff....she might do that too. If I am a friend, I can teach her good and bad things." Gregor nodded. Damon grinned. "She started throwing the squirrels like it was a normal thing to do. Guess being feral, it is for her. And I followed her example instead of telling her we shouldn't do that." Gregor nodded. "And if I catch the two of you doing that again, what do you think Nanny Gregor will do?" Gulping, Damon offered, "Punish us for it?" "You bet your sweet bippy I will."    

The teachers were always encouraging him and he was starting to really like them. Tyrion can be really funny and Stannis is boring but he is patient and never mocks Damon for asking the same thing over and over. Loras was a really good roommate and he always was eager to help Damon. A deep part of Damon that came from Ramsay's training felt that Loras was cunning, playing false. But Loras never did anything but be kind and helpful. No one ever teased or bothered him but Ramsay and Joff. Polliver always seemed to be popping up on Ramsay and that helped Damon keep his calm, not start fights so much, lest Jeyne or another watches and thinks it the right thing to do.

Damon still enjoyed having Sansa help him the most of all. He also enjoyed going on walks with her, Sansa always asked so sweetly. Whenever Damon was free, the bits of time off he had, was spent following Sansa. Damon knew that she used him as protection from Ramsay and Joff, as well as a look out while she was with Loras. He didn't mind at all. Friends help each other and don't need to ask why. She told him that. Look how much Sansa has done for him, even staying his friend after he turned so crazy. Plus Sansa knew every vile thing he has done in the past, Ramsay had told her one day with bright malice. And while Damon shook in shame, Sansa took his hand. She told him they were still friends that he wasn't that awful boy anymore.

Damon still shied away from Unella, he didn't know why, but he was secretly terrified of her. Even her voice seemed to cause him a sort of ghost pain in his head. He obediently showed to her appointments and never once disobeyed an order from her. At the hell house, if Damon had to be near her, he was full of twitchy respect. Gregor seemed to understand and shoo Unella away whenever Damon was around. He muttered that they would have to work on that someday but it was too soon. Damon didn't like Raff but Gregor insisted that it was important to share in therapy. If Raff told Gregor that Damon didn't speak or became sullen during sessions then swift painful discipline came.

The blistering pain of a strap raining fire upon Damon's palms was nothing compared to Gregor's words as the lashing was mete out. "I am dismayed, I am disappointed and ashamed that I fell for your lies. Nanny Gregor was thinking that you wanted a mentor, that you respected your Nanny and wanted a way out of the hell Ramsay pushed you into. Was I wrong, Damon? Was I making a mistake to allow you my precious time, lad? I am hurt, Damon. Is that your talent, to trick others into helping you just so you can laugh in their faces like Ramsay would?"

Damon would sob then and apologize, begging for Gregor not to give up on him, that he was sorry to have failed him. Gregor would stop the strap wielding then and grab the boy's wet, red face between his hands. "Do not fail yourself, do not give up on yourself. Every time you resist letting a staff member help you, it's you giving up on yourself, it's the Ramsay voice telling you that you aren't worth the pain of growing into someone better." It took time but Damon started to try and trust Raff enough to talk with him. He haltingly told Raff of the things he would do with Ramsay, would tell him the lessons drilled into him by the Boltons and inch by tiny inch, the inner Ramsay voice started to fade away. So did the Roose voice once he admitted to Raff and Gregor that it was in his head sometimes.

Ramsay tended his rage like Sandor tended the fucking gardens. He let it bloom and allowed the fault, the blame, the deceit to grow like weeds, choking Ramsay with the helplessness of it all. At the very root of it is his father, naturally and he dreams of the day he can murder him. Father made Damon and allowed him to belong to Ramsay just to let him get ripped away. He made Jeyne and let her become a freak to embarrass the Bolton name way further than anything Ramsay ever did! Not only did his father toss him in this hell hole but he then throws Jeyne in his face for good measure. Then when that fucker Polliver decided to rip Damon out of Ramsay's room, when they all told Damon to ignore his own blood! Ramsay's father agreed with them, the fucking traitorous cunt!

Even that, even that was all expected, the staff would be cruel and stupid, his father would be sadistic and unreasonable and traitorous. The slap, the true slap in Ramsay's face that hit even harder was Damon's blatant disloyalty, how quickly he abandoned his own brother, his own best friend. Damon didn't try to fight for the room back, he didn't even make much effort to attempt seeing Ramsay outside of their dorm rooms. No, Damon discarded the one person who cared for him, who carefully trained him to be Ramsay's right hand, really.All for a fucking redheaded bit of fucking pussy. Oscar was clearly using Damon from the start and Ramsay tried to warn Damon, he was blown off. Rejected outright, with Damon quoting Sansa every second!

Ramsay tried to tell the staff about what that Stark bitch was. He was punished for attitude when Ramsay was right the whole time! When Damon was attacked and framed by Sansa, when Tickler took him, Ramsay was not allowed to see his own half brother. Damon came back and incredibly, went back to Oscar and added a giant ape mentor, boring and shady Goldilocks, to his new shiny Ramsay free rainbow dream life. The worst insult from Damon, the moment Ramsay knew it was time to give on his half brother was when he saw him with Jeyne. For Damon to dare to reject Ramsay for that little feral freak, to cast away Ramsay for that dog sister? The insult and jealousy were eating into him like acid. That was when Ramsay started to view Damon as an enemy.

The staff wasn't content to just rip Damon from Ramsay, no, they had to make sure he was truly adrift. They wanted to take all his toys away and make him suffer their fucked up time out. But Ramsay always could tell a bitch. Damon had certainly been his Sidebitch, desperate for a friend, a brother and eager to let Ramsay manipulate his thoughts and choices. Theon screamed of bitch and a different kind than Damon, it was a salve for Ramsay's ego and pride. Theon was a masochist, a self mutilator as well, such a perfect combo! The bitch was desperate to be hurt, humiliated and starved for affection underneath his arrogant bravado. Ramsay played the lovely boy like a fine tuned instrument and quickly grew fond of Theon. He saw potential in a new partner, one twice as submissive and willing to fuck, suck, bleed, burn and bruise. Anything at all Ramsay wanted.

Theon would crawl to Ramsay with a razor in his mouth and beg with huge eyes to be cut. He was fearful, worshiping, obedient and was near perfect when the staff ripped him away too. It was hard to believe tearful, frantic, loving Theon would betray him but Ramsay steeled himself just in case. Theon was constantly told lies, told how bad Ramsay was for him. To add insult, they even roomed him with the other Stark bitch! According to Princess, Target is harmless and wouldn't try to steal Theon. But Ramsay is not reassured. He watches carefully even though isn't allowed near Theon in private. Theon doesn't find another person to follow, he doesn't try and ignore or reject Ramsay. Instead the boy tries to sneak to leave Ramsay notes, begging to see him, declaring his love and devotion. Ramsay waits until Theon seems nearly suicidal before he will consent to a secret meeting.

He caresses, licks, sucks and bites at whatever mutilation Theon has done to himself as he fucks him hard. Theon will plead for Ramsay to hurt him, to make new wounds. Ramsay refuses, he won't leave any marks that could be pointed back at him anymore. He degrades Theon, he accuses him of not loving him and watches the boy dissolve into tears even as Ramsay brings him to an orgasm. The continued loyalty is a small comfort but Ramsay knows it is a matter of time before the staff finds a way to brainwash Theon. When he tells Theon that someday he will betray him, that the others will rip him away for good, Theon begs for Ramsay to kill him rather than let that happen. And Ramsay fights the delicious temptation of it. He did tell Theon honestly, if it comes down to it, he will kill him before he is forced to be a traitor.

Damon taken away, Theon ripped away and all Ramsay has left is Joff. But Ramsay knows a bitch if he sees one and Joff is just another kind of bitch. A self entitled rich sniveling sadistic fuck that is a pussy at heart. A whiny mommy's boy who can't understand why everyone else doesn't see just how special he is. Ramsay spent years watching his father speak to Lannisters, Tyrells and Starks with a deference and respect that was utterly unreal but believable. He watched how his father moved things without them seeing, climbing up with silent deceit and excellent acting. Joff was nothing compared to dealing with Cersei or Tywin himself. If his father can handle those rich cunts, then his son can easily handle Joff, the youngest, cruelest and dumbest of them all.

He would let Joff rage and encourage him. Ramsay knew just how to stroke his ego and play in the spoiled bitch's emotions like a violinist.

"Its wrong is all I am saying. I mean, everyone has to know that a Lannister boy, the LAST pure Lannister heir should be treated differently. I say it's jealousy, even the staff is all made of low level assholes except for your uncle, really. And he is a traitor to you, this whole place is a nest of traitorous cunts."

"As a Bolton, we always knew our place was to support the Lannisters, we also knew how to show respect and deference. Don't see the Stark bitches giving you your due and they damn well know their stations in life!"

"That feral cunt, that freak is so nasty she's hidden from actual freak shows..biting you! She could have taken your whole finger, ripped out your throat, bit off your face or given you a damned disease! And they let her just run around like that. You got injured and punished all night in a fucking hole and all she got was a fucking haircut. What is a half animal girl compared to a Lannister?"

"How dare that whore Myranda, reject you once and taunt you, laughing. As if a whore has the right to deny you anything! She was lucky you didn't treat her like a proper whore should be treated!"

"That sniveling cook, he thinks he is important now, I saw how he sneers at you, deliberately giving us the worst of the food, along with nasty looks! As if he wasn't a piss poor trapped cafeteria worker who wouldn't be able to afford your damned socks."

"I think it's time we show them all who they are really dealing with, Joff. I will be your back up, if you'd let me. A Bolton serving a Lannister, right?"

Chapter Text

There were two brass frames hanging on the entrance wall into the small schoolhouse that no one paid attention to. One featured a smiling Loras, the other featured a smiling Sansa. Both pictures had a small plaque under them that announced they were students of the month. It was considered by all that those pictures will stay there until their graduations from the school. Already heading into the second month, the pictures have gained a little dust. 

Loras and Sansa as students have certainly not gained any dust, if anything they glowed, they shined and glittered even in their blank white uniforms.

Stannis and Tyrion found themselves laughing over their laptops together. While they were ordering adaptive work for Damon and Jeyne, they were also searching for advanced work for Sansa and Loras. Stannis found someone who laughed at his jokes, would discuss the history of mathematics from the dark ages upwards. The boy actually wrote a long essay with a lovely dry sarcastic wit on a recent black hole theory that snapped up Stannis's full attention. It wasn't even an assignment!

Tyrion had admitted to his fellow professor that he wished to chain Sansa to her desk the way Polliver had wished to chain Hot Pie to the kitchen. The girl had an amazing talent for research, her poems were pure structural bliss and the girl wrote a small comedy that had him chuckling for hours. Sansa had an interest in history, mythology and art. He got Kevan's permission to take Sansa and Loras on a field trip that Stannis would chaperon. They went to an art museum, had lunch at a maritime pub and took in the planetarium before the long drive home from the city.

Stannis had to admit to Tyrion he felt like chaining Loras as well. He was afraid it was another student to lose to Unella. The boy was leaning towards the medical sciences a bit, already he has had to consult Unella on questions Loras had. Loras never asked directly but he also went to the doctor with other questions that Unella didn't mind answering. Loras would sometimes offer to help with filing in the medical offices or even do the mild orderly work. Yet the young man never abandoned Stannis and was eager to take any extra tutelage or hear any stories that Stannis had to offer.

In fact, to his mild shock, Stannis actual felt nearly parental to the studious boy. When they were at the museum and Loras was briefly unwell in the men's room, Stannis actual felt true concern. He found himself pacing nervously when Loras went into the bathroom and didn't return within a normal few minutes. Feeling like an utter fool, he embarrassed the poor child by entering the bathroom slightly and calling to see if he was alright. Poor Loras sounded so flustered when he responded about some mild cramping. Stannis immediately muttered for Loras to take his time and fled to a bench nearby. He sat and studied an abstract art without really seeing it.

His report to Kevan was glowing, everyone's report on Loras was nearly glowing. Unella had mentioned how Loras showed some basic interest in assisting at the clinic. She had no problem allowing him a few hours during the week. She did note that she felt Loras did not have the same interest that Raff had when she mentored him after Stannis. The few detentions right after visitor's day were the only other mar to it. Kevan was pleased with Loras's progress and Stannis was told to await his reward for this excellent second report in a row. 

Tyrion's report on Sansa was just as good except told in a more eloquent wording. As her other mentor, Kevan could attest to her excellent conduct and dedication to learning all she can. Tutoring both Damon and Jeyne now, projects with Loras, mentoring with both Tyrion in academics and Kevan in management, not a single detention or incident since just after that first terrible visitor's day. Sansa had come forward to ask both Kevan and Tyrion if she could atone in her own way. By making sure that Damon always had a tutor and someone to guide him in social issues.

This was fine by Kevan but he added, "I believe that Jeyne is working with Damon at the same level, you shall allow her the assistance as well, if she wishes it."

Kevan informed Tyrion and Stannis together that evening that their dream of a gaming room shall happen. Whichever cabin that Hot Pie does not choose for his own may be theirs. "However, I feel it would be selfish to allow a whole cabin for only two grown men to fantasize wars in. It shall become a community gaming room that you shall restore and design yourselves. It can be up to you what hours staff uses it, what hours that the students may use it. Students can perhaps earn time there by doing well in your classes!"   

Gregor and Unella were distracted, the professors were enchanted and Kevan was having fun getting to play mentor again. Raff and Polliver were the only ones who truly notice those Student of the Month pictures in the dusty hallway. Those perfect pretty things, that pretty doesn't reach their eyes and they know it. "They show to every therapy, they act like they are engaging but they are evading. I see those damned secrets but I can't seem to hit the right nerve on them yet." Polliver twirled his baton and grinned at Raff.

"I watch them go on their walks and projects together, sweet as fucking pie and I swear I will expose them for the true naughty ducklings they are. Do you like how Oscar has Sidebitch as her new muscle and look out? I swear to the gods, I feel like we are trying to crack a mini student mafia couple. No matter how long it takes, we are going to crack their little mysteries."

Loras had a special trick to his smile and so did Sansa. He had laughed when she confessed to him that her mother made all the children smear Vaseline on their teeth to force the right kind smile. Loras had told her that his grandmother taught him and his sister method acting and facial muscle exercises. They laughed politely and lightly at that with a companionship they resented having. Loras had not lied, that was how he was taught to smile but truthfully, Loras had a better, more special trick to it. He pictured two things in his head and his smile sprang forth, leaking charm.

He would see the imagery of Kevan and his staff splayed out across the gardens and pathways. Corpses everywhere, including Joff, Ramsay, more if need be. Whatever it takes to get to the second image of his lover, his true, real mentor and advisor. Smiling, telling Loras how much he loves him, how he has avenged him, proven his true loyalty to his beloved leader and hopefully husband someday.

When Loras had to face his grandmother both times for the intolerable visitor days, he visualized his grandmother strangling on poison as he sweetly told her the truth. How much he despised her and everything she stood for. That it was Loras's fault that Renly and Marge were dead for truth. When the days of acting perfect started to strain, when Loras found himself fighting tears, he would have another trick for it. He would run into a bathroom at school or the dorm and jerk off to a very specific fantasy. Olenna would be writhing on the floor, her broken cup of poisoned tea next to her. As the old bitch begged him for help, Loras would smile and lean over her very close.

"Renly and Marge were already dead, you shriveled old bitch. I gave them an overdose of very pricey and too potent drugs and wine. I added a little poison to their wine just to be sure. It was fast and merciful, not like this, with you. Because I did love them, I did, but I hated you more. Here is news for you to die with, granny! I had Renly and Marge, cold and dead and forever lovely in that car. I was driving them home to you and then I was adding you to my pledge of love and devotion. I was going to use your deaths as a way to get into the school. That accident saved your life a little longer, bitch. How dare you tell me who I must marry, forcing me into your lifestyle? All me and my sister ever were to you were pawns, pretty dolls you could sell to the highest bidder. I never will forgive you for making me have to choose between all of you and Lancel."

Loras would orgasm then as he envisioned Olenna's face as she heard him then died. He recalls that soon they will all be exposed or dead and he is ready to be the perfect pretty thing again. Meeting Lancel during their museum field trip that he and Sansa had suggested had helped Loras go on. He was suddenly being fucked by Lancel, who licked the tears off Loras's face. Sweet reassurances as Lancel managed to create magic with his cock and words as his hand took away the cell phone full of medical files and pictures of staff abuse upon students. When Stannis ever yelled in, Loras got such a shock of fear it sent him hurtling into orgasm while he tried to answer the stupid professor.

As always, Loras was left wanting more and being ordered to do more. It was the way with Lancel and Loras accepted that a few years back. He had whispered to Lancel about how Sansa tried to use her uncle to leave the first month of their stay at the school. Lancel had frowned over it but then his smile smoothed out and he hugged his adoring boy.

"But she did what she had to, to reach Kevan as a mentor? My father only ever spoke of enjoying one true mentoring challenge. Cat Stark. Sansa just had to make a plan that would fail but catch his attention. I would say that Sansa truly went to full lengths to achieve her goal and that excuses her minor panic at trying to leave. I know that spying on Unella's medical files and experiments, Raff's journals and staff abuses probably gets boring. But I won't put you, my truest love, in such a dangerous situation as spying on Kevan himself and retrieving his files. I value you too much, it kills me to leave you in such a den of vipers as it is. Just a little longer now, sweetheart. My precious superhero. I have the girls now and you have Gilly, their beloved sister. I will have them place a call to their dear sibling soon. Perhaps while Sansa is at the big house she might take the time to acquaint herself with Gilly?"

Sansa has a vision in her head too. She doesn't like it but there it is and she can't change it. A vision of china doll that looks like a person, acts and speaks like one but had a fine crack. It gets larger, longer and she watches her shell crack and fall away in jagged pieces until the rotted monster shows itself to the shrieking world. Sometimes she wonders what Raff would say about that if she told him. Since the days when Sansa would dress up as a princess and drink fake tea from plastic cups, she hasn't been real. Her mother created her as an expensive pretty doll for sale someday, her father bought her dolls to remind her of this. Uncle Petyr whispered in one of her delicate porcelain ears and her mother in the other.

But she was a good girl and did good things. Dressed up pretty, learned everything she taught, blindly followed the paths forced into her narrowed, secluded vision.  Sansa befriended whomever she was told to, she went to the parties she was taken to, took the classes she was given and it was all boring, it was stifling. The miracle occurred then, a new teacher at her school. Lancel Lannister of all people, starting offering an extra curricular activity on journalism. Sansa and Loras both needed to always find one more credit, one more rung on the ladder and took his class. That is when her eyes finally opened and Sansa learned the world had color. First in class then in coffee shops or campus lawns, then in Lancel's own posh apartment.

She learned that she had a voice, opinions, emotions and a cage door only she could force open. Lancel was her shining example, he escaped the school, his father and has found a modicum of freedom. Now he wants to save others and it starts with Sansa and Loras. She doesn't love Lancel the way Loras does, no, it's still a close personal relationship in it's own right. He held her hand, let Sansa cry and feel safe, Lancel gave her a way to tell of the rot in her prestigious home. The true cold hard truth of what goes on inside the chilly repressed abusive space. Lancel gave her validation, he helped give her a purpose and a long thorny but real road at freedom and revenge.

Sansa does resent that Loras has the easier safer role to fill for Lancel. However, she understands atonement for her sins far better than Raff would ever understand. After all, Arya should have been dead when their car accident happened but Sansa had weakened unlike Loras in the end. Killing Rickon and Jon should have done it, however, everyone ended up suspecting Cat of their disappearance instead of Sansa. Lancel had warned Sansa that it would be hard to get into the school. Arya was always following her about, driving her apeshit, snooping and never shutting up. But the night Lancel had picked for his devotees to make their sacrifice, Arya kept getting stoned and blurting out how she always admired and loved her big sister. And Sansa didn't poison or overdose her little sister.

So she must bear the worst of the work, the dangerous work of dealing with Kevan himself. To snoop within the snarling lion's den itself to atone, to show Lancel she was devoted! Sansa's main dream is to be able to slit her mother's throat after they take down this school. That fantasy in her head makes her glow and she is just as pretty as a picture.

Chapter Text

Myranda wasn't aware that she was having an issue until she had one. The punishments from Bob and Harold were always god-awful in some sickening creative way. However, due to that, she was rarely ever in need of correction from them. She was always a fast learner and seldom crossed over the limits where her actions would matter to them. A few detentions or average grades don't matter to her mentors, a huge grade drop or sudden problems with staff or students would cause them to care.

Since they weren't part of the daily interactive staff, Myranda has the relief of not having to face them soon after the punishment. This had been the scariest and worst one she has ever had from Bob and Harold. She suffered, she groveled and was aware of how NOT to upset them again. Craster was dead, Myranda secretly wasn't the least sorry and never would be. Then end. No problem. No sweat.

A few weeks of pain, of medications, a specialized pillow and no need to see her mentors. Myranda felt the other students had to see their mentors all the time and she was lucky to not have to. Everything was fine, she was doing her average work and causing no issues with anyone, doing her chores like always. Due to her injuries. Myranda could have a full month off from fucking old guys and boy, was that great!

She was riding chilly, no issues whatsoever even when she blew the meat guy. This wasn't new, it wasn't even all that time consuming, she has done it before. And Myranda performed just as well as always, got what she wanted in return for it. Nothing was wrong except she was still sore and bit high strung maybe.

Until Joff and Ramsay decided she owed them something then Myranda discovered Jeyne wasn't the only one with anger issues. They tried to lure her into pleasuring them which made her mock them. The two moved on to insulting her at every opportunity and Myranda gave back insults just as fast. Pulling trash out of the can and spreading it on the cafeteria floor that Myranda freshly washed came next.

Myranda fumed but started to clean it after telling them to fuck off and that was that.

Or it would have been if Joff hadn't decided to grab her ass while she bent over to push trash into the barrel. Jeyne had been in the back of the kitchen doing dishes and Hot Pie had been checking the garden for anymore fresh berries when the roaring began. Myranda had such a soft sweet voice, it was not manufactured, it was just her voice. Apparently there was also another voice to her and this one was deeper than Gregor's, louder than Polliver's and with as much authority as Kevan's.

"DO NOT EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME! DID YOU PAY ME? HUH? I WOULDN'T FUCK YOU FOR A MILLION DOLLARS AND FREEDOM! IF EITHER OF YOU WHORE KILLERS TOUCH ME AGAIN, IT WON'T BE THE FUCKING TICKLER YOU HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT! YOU THINK JEYNE CAN HURT YOU? ASSHOLES, YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT I CAN DO TO YOU! GO ON, TOUCH ME, CUNTS, I WILL END YOU! YOU WON'T BE THE FIRST MALES I'VE HAD TO KILL, NOT EVEN THE HARDEST KIND TO KILL! TRY ME, BITCHES!"

Hot Pie and Jeyne came flying to see Myranda wielding a mop handle and both boys on the ground clutching their groins. "Okay, you got them, now stop, Myranda. Staff will show any second after they way you yelled!" It was as if Myranda didn't hear Hot Pie's reasonable voice at all. Ramsay sneered up at her and Joff whined, "You'll pay for that, whore! I'll-"

Joff's words dissolved into squeal and Ramsay's sneer changed to a pained wince as Myranda proceeded to beat the living shit out of the two of them with the handle.

Jeyne growled as Ramsay kicked Myranda back but Hot Pie grabbed the feral as Myranda just went right back to beating her victims. "No, Jeyne! Think of how good you've been doing! If you get involved you might lose your Person and bad things happen then. Think of how hard you've worked, you'll lose all of it if you start fighting again!" Hot Pie heard the door crash open and he threw himself and Jeyne against the wall as Polliver and Raff entered.  

Instantly, Polliver's eye went to see who was involved, who was against the wall. Raff looked relieved to see Jeyne against the wall rather than involved in the fighting. However, Jeyne did holler, pointing, "The boys threw trash, they TOUCHED her! They started it, not Myranda!" Except Myranda still wasn't stopping even with both men ready to dish out hurt. Instead, in front of them, she delivered a skull cracking blow at Ramsay's head that the boy rolled away from just in time.

Polliver gave a laugh then walked towards Myranda. "Okay, that's enough, Whore. I'm gonna give you a free pass since I'm sure they provoked you. Put down the mop while I take out the human trash." Hurling the mop handle at the boys as hard as she could, Myranda stomped away. Polliver kicked at Joff and poked at Ramsay with the baton. "Up, up, up! Congratulations, ducktards! Both of you have won a two week detention of hard labor at the monster house including weekends! And that is after I finish up a little more ass kicking on your way to class! "

Myranda tried to ignore Raff as she stormed towards the woods. She was just done and needed to clear her head, even if it meant skipping class. "Hey, don't ignore me, young lady. Last chance, come to my office or I text your mentors to deal with you." Fuming, Myranda stopped and turned around to face Raff. "Don't text them. I'm coming but don't touch me. I feel really upset right now and I just need to have my personal space. Even whores get the right to have personal space when they aren't on the fucking clock!" 

Raff nodded and put his hands in his pockets. "Fine, we will walk as far apart as you need until we reach my office." Keeping her distance just out of his reach, Myranda walked with him towards the clinic. Once they were in the office, Raff sat in his seat and leaned back, folding his hands. "So you aren't normally rattled by a random grab and douche bag behavior. I have seen you deal with such things in the past with way less public and random violence. What about this time upset you so much?"

It was impossible for Myranda to stay seated and she sprang up to pace the tiny office space. "I don't want anyone fucking touching me! I don't want anyone to mess with me. Until I have to work, I am NOT WORKING! My mind and body got all fucked up and until I feel better about the world, everything can go fuck itself! I just want to be left alone to do my damned school and chores. Unless it's Hot Pie or Jeyne, I don't want to speak to anyone. And I am sick of Joff and Ramsay thinking I am here for their fucking pleasure!"

"I saw your injuries after your punishment from Bob and Harold. They have always been known to react harshly to disciplinary issues. Is that what you might be really angry about?" Raff was surprised at how fast she spun and her eyes landed on him with fire. "Fuck you. I am angry because two cocksuckers just tried to feel me up, destroy my fucking day and play get the whore to fuck for free. That is why I am fucking angry."

Narrowing his eyes, straightening up in the chair, Raff spoke clearly and softly. "I understand how angry you are. But you will not continue to swear at me and treat me with disrespect. Ramsay and Joff will be disciplined for their actions and Polliver was kind enough to let you walk away unscathed. In spite of the fact that you were the one causing physical violence." Myranda barked a bitter laugh and sneered.

"I beat their asses because they grabbed my ass like it was hanging out there for them. I was picking up their fucking mess on my fucking clean floor when they grabbed my fucking ass. They deserved it and I'll do it to anyone trying to touch me without my damned permission. Unless Bob and Harold ring that whore bell, no one is fucking touching me. Is that clear enough? I am sorry if you find me rude, Raff. But today I am not feeling like a very well behaved whore."

Joff and Ramsay iced their bruises, while the blond brat whined. "Look what that whore did to my head! That fucking cunt should be grateful I didn't just rape and kill her! And did she get in trouble? No! We did. She injures us, causes ME damage and goes happily on her fucking way! I get hard labor? Why should I pretend as if I'm some sweaty, grunting workman because of a WHORE?"

With a smirk, Ramsay soothed Joff's upset. "Just remember, we were hoping to provoke that kind of reaction. We needed to get enough detentions to get closer to our revenge on Jeyne. She and everyone else has to become used to seeing us that close to her without too much trouble. Just enough bullying so it doesn't look suspicious. Then one day, everyone will be comfortable enough to leave us alone with her for an hour or two at the hell house. And that is all we will need."

Joff looked a bit unsure. "Yeah, but that cunt is really dangerous, I mean, she almost killed me! At the house, I've seen her use all those power tools." Ramsay fought not to roll his eyes and smack the weaselly shit. "Jeyne didn't nearly kill you, she bit half your finger off. Besides, we are going to take her by surprise, knock her out then restrain the bitch before we wake her up to play. Then you can get all the sweet revenge on her that you want. But we have to be patient and take our time in order to get that chance. But we have other games to play, others to take down while we wait out our time to nab the feral for your revenge."

With a nasty leer, Joff announced, "I'm going to get that whore back too. I want so badly to mutilate her, I even want us to hunt her until she crawls, begs us to put her out of her misery." Ramsay smiled. "I promise our revenge on Whore will happen too. I can't wait to steal the bows and arrows from archery so I can watch you bring her down and if you'll allow it, I'd love to teach you how to flay her alive. But first, we start smaller, let's go after their weakest link to begin with and someone who also needs a lesson in fucking humility. Let's start with that cook and play with him while waiting to go after Feral and Whore."

Arya and Theon stared first at Sandor then at the dirt bikes and helmets. Shrugging, scratching the back of his head, Sandor muttered, "Gregor asked me to cover your gym class today. I don't teach gym, don't really feel like doing sports, don't know yoga and shit, plus, figured you two were probably sick of the constant physical labor. So today I'm teaching you two how to ride dirt bikes. Objections?"

Sandor barely finished speaking before the two were scrambling for the bikes, strapping on the helmets. Theon caught on fast and was trying to get fancy with it, knocking himself onto his ass, laughing. Arya had a little more trouble but after two temper tantrums and getting her head whacked by Sandor, calmed herself, tried again. Soon both of the students were racing each other on the dusty back roads while Sandor enjoyed cruising along nearby with his own bike.

They all stopped near the small pond and Sandor pulled open his backpack. Theon and Arya eagerly took the water bottles and small bags of snacks. "I am going to start teaching a few classes. I want both you of to join them. Dirt bike classes, archery and basic self defense. I spoke with Gregor and he is also going to let me teach his kick boxing class. His mind is on...worse matters. Hell house and hell wedding plus hell baby are all on his shoulders. Kevan has approved me to teach these classes and you two can join right away...if your grades stay up and your detentions go down."

Theon and Arya started to knock each other into the pond after they ate. Both had readily agreed to join Sandor's new classes and he truly was looking forward to it. He hasn't taught much, certainly never mentored before. Sandor has discovered he likes that little brat who is learning faster and faster from him. He also likes the arrogant fucked up Theon. What Sandor hates, is the feeling of the gun he is concealing. Hiding a gun, hiding his worries, Sandor wonders about his orders today.

It wasn't alarming to be told that Gregor is giving up some of his scheduled classes up to Sandor to teach. Gregor is overloaded and must concentrate on getting his house in order. Having a sudden visit from Harold and Bob to Gregor's hell house where they were chatting was very alarming. With their creepy twin smiles, they informed the men that the school was going on lock down mode. They suggested that Sandor carry his gun and to take Theon and Arya somewhere out of sight. 

 

Chapter Text

Sansa wasn't aware of who called or what the issue was but as she filed, she could hear Kevan's voice raised from his office. Then Bob and Harold came past the file room and went into Kevan's office. 

She has not managed to do half as much as Sansa thought she would in the last few weeks. At least in the context of spying, gathering critical information. All files that Sansa had access to were all boring, legitimate papers, ledgers and contracts. Not that she hasn't learned many other things. Kevan has taken the mentor-ship very seriously to Sansa's surprise.

He was careful to teach her how to file, how to type out different kinds of contracts and even had Sansa take notes during some of his meetings. Kevan taught her which vendors they chose and why. He was teaching her managing, marketing and bookkeeping. Stannis adapted all her math and computer courses to assist her in this. Sansa felt stuffed full of information but frustrated that the real information she wants is kept so hidden.

There wasn't a lot of time to be able to search on her own. The house was huge and only occupied by four people and yet Sansa always ran into someone.

Bob and Harold would just emerge from nowhere with their terrifying blank politeness. Sansa was well warned by Lancel of these two and knew that they must never suspect her of anything. Once they got curious on something, they won't let it go and Lancel warned her that any students that have died on campus by unnatural means always saw the twin terrors as their last horrific view.

Sansa had received her latest message through Loras. She was jealous that he got to actually spend a little time with Lancel. Watching Loras in love was agony and Sansa was only relieved she didn't have to share a room with the dramatic queen. Her love for Lancel was truer and purer without any desire of sex, without complications of needy emotions. It was simple, he freed her, saved her, unshackled Sansa's mind and soul.

Lancel was her leader, her guide to life and her salvation. Sansa is prepared to die for him and the cause of every angel, every superstar and hero that has been defined, defiled and destroyed by cruel adults. Those who use children like chess pieces, like carved statues endlessly dying in a war that cannot be truly won. And Sansa will find a way to do what is needed or die trying. Kevan, Bob and Harold, her own wretched mother, they will be taken down and the children will be the only survivors of the war this time.

Gilly was not easy to befriend or to find a weakness in to exploit or manipulate. In Sansa's short life span, she has met many kinds of people. But never, ever before has she encountered a Gilly. Everyone has ambitions, goals, aspirations, some fantasy to try and grasp for at the least. Not Gilly. Sansa wondered if the girl was a hidden plant by Loras. No, the blind worship in the girl's eyes for Kevan was disgusting, but real. Sansa shuddered, how easily this simple minded idiot has been blinded by Kevan's little sick cult.

But even idiots can be fooled, even they have things they want, crave, need at some cost. And even devoted followers can want some simple pleasures that they could be enticed with. Not. Fucking. Gilly. The girl was proud of her job, she thought Kevan shit rainbow colored ice cream and her world was boring and perfect. Sansa wasn't able to even get the damned Gilly to sit for a cup of tea with her! Gilly was always on her working time when Sansa was around and the very second the girl wasn't, she disappeared into thin air.

Loras laughed his ass off when Sansa hissed all this to him but it wasn't funny to her. Sansa would try and find ways to be where Gilly was, she would ask the girl to make her tea or something stupid. The Gilly was polite, helpful and didn't mind chatting but never stayed around once the task was complete. Sansa would actually be in mid sentence to the girl when she would put down the tea and simply walk away to finish dusting. One night Sansa had a dream that aliens had dropped Gilly from a spaceship. It only made Sansa more determined to get through the battle scarred tank she has dubbed The Gilly.

Sansa stopped thinking of Gilly when Harold came out of Kevan's office and walked over to her. His smile was perfect and utterly not reassuring in any way. Her heart stopped beating for a brief second and she struggled not to look scared in any way. "Sansa, Kevan sends his apologies but he must cancel your mentoring time today. Would you come with me, please?" The man offered no reason of why he needed to escort her or where he wanted her to go. Sansa paused only a second, as any student would and Harold widened his smile.

Taking a deep breath, Sansa nodded and forced herself not to cringe when the man put a heavy hand on her shoulder. Without speaking, he walked her deeper into the house. They went upstairs to a small parlor and Harold gestured for her to enter it. "I am going to have Gilly bring you some tea and snacks. If you would like, she can offer to show you the library on the third floor. Kevan has asked that you stay in this room or the library until his small urgent issue has been resolved." Sansa twisted her hands as if nervous then blurted out as if embarrassed, "Can Gilly stay with me, if I want? In case...I need something?"

Harold's smile was so patronizing now that Sansa wanted to knock his teeth out with a hammer. Of course, it was the type of smile she wanted him to have. Of course a rich pampered girl would cling to a servant during possible emergencies. So she blushed and lowered her head a little as Harold responded. "I am sure that Gilly won't mind a bit. She works very hard around here and deserves a little break. Tea for two then." Sansa thanked him then waited for tea and The Gilly, wondering how to proceed.

Sansa was sure that whatever was happening, Gilly won't know about it. There was no option of trying to sneak to hear anything, not with Bob and Harold roaming. She just has to accept that this urgent problem doesn't affect her, she has no control over it. All Sansa can do is use this chance to try and examine the tank of Kevan's small army. Walking to the window, Sansa looked out at the grounds below, scanning for an out of control Jeyne or Ramsay perhaps. She froze and only her eyes moved, to track the sight of Tywin Lannister entering the gates of the school.

All of his men stayed behind, he went in alone but as soon as he cleared the gate, Gregor was there. He frisked the dignified and livid looking man before allowing him to storm past into the house. Gregor was never more than one step behind Tywin but the man didn't seem concerned about the giant looming over him. Sansa ran to the door, to the heat grate, back to the door, trying to hear anything. Only the sounds of voices, angry ones but then footsteps coming up the stairs.

Gilly had been lost in the latest musical that Kevan has loaded onto her cell phone. Humming to the musical about the woods and the fantastical things that happen within it, she was preparing vegetables and meat for the slow cooker. Harold came in but she didn't see him and he moved slowly, carefully so he was behind her as she swayed and trilled while chopping onions in time to the music. He leaned very close and while one hand shut off her music, he spoke gently into her ear. "I don't know anyone else in the world that can chop onions and not cry." The girl jumped and slammed the knife down, to spin around.

She stared directly up at Harold, who was intolerably close and turned her fear to fire. "I do not cry without a very good reason. Onions aren't a good reason to waste my tears. How may I help you, Harold?" Gilly didn't flinch as Harold put a hand upon her braid and played with it. She has grown used to the strange men that still made her skin crawl. They like to touch her, never sexually but in a very unsettling way, they enjoyed using closeness and touch to put others at unease. Gilly has accepted this and is reasonably sure that they would never truly molest or hurt her. Therefore, nothing to truly fear.

"I am sorry to disrupt your normal schedule, dear Gilly, but Kevan has a small emergency to tend to. Therefore, we all must adapt. Would you please mind seeing to the comfort and care of Sansa upstairs for us? Keep her in the sitting room or bring her up to your library until we tell you otherwise. Have tea and cookies with her, keep her company." Gilly nodded and didn't ask a single question though her alarm was clear in her eyes. Harold pinched her cheek lightly and his voice was a cold, smooth affection that made her skin try and move to another planet.

"Thank you, sweet girl. I know we can always count on you. Since I have caused the disruption of what I am sure was going to be a lovely supper, I shall replace it as an apology to you. Today your only duty is to tend to that student and keep her upstairs, quiet and calm. She is not to leave, under any circumstances unless myself, Bob or Kevan come for her. Give her food, tea, books, share your movie collection if you wish, anything the girl wants as long as she stays put." Gilly hates conflict, drama and has no idea how to handle social situations.

"Of course, Harold. Sansa will be kept entertained and upstairs until I am told otherwise." Harold smirked as Gilly stumbled over the last word. He and Bob found it amusing to watch her stumble over self improvements. She wondered if they did that to that poor feral girl that comes here, trying so hard...Gilly answered her own question. With a quick last lingering touch on Gilly's hair, Harold turned and left the room. Giving a quick shiver, like a dog trying to shake something off it's fur, Gilly began to make tea and set out cookies.

A cheer had gone up among the ducklings lined against the dorm wall. "Yes, yes, very exciting, a rare fuck off kind of day! But its a specific kind of a fuck off day and I expect everyone to enjoy or endure it equally!" Polliver swung his baton and it pointed at Ramsay and Joff. "The options are exactly this. You may go anywhere you wish as long as it's in the dorm house. Hot Pie will be making pizzas and other crap for all you greedy little ducklings and you may eat it here in the common room. Any questions can be gently but firmly inserted up your asses. Waddle on, ducklings, go climb the walls and chew the plaster or something."

Myranda raised an eyebrow but didn't join in the muttering of the other students. She had no urge to hang around Loras, Ramsay, Joff or Damon and headed for her room. She stopped, sighing, to look back and see Jeyne wasn't following her but heading past Polliver to speak to Raff who was lingering in the doorway. "Jeyne! Why don't you come upstairs with me? I'll file and paint your nails or we can just nap." The girl turned and nodded. "I will be up in a minute." Shaking her head, Myranda watched Jeyne head for the handsome therapist. She went upstairs and figured Jeyne would follow after getting a lecture or a baton whack for her troubles.

Raff smiled as Jeyne came over to him, she was wringing her hands nervously. "I am behind, I am scheduled, I have work to do at the hell house. Gregor and Unella will think I am not a Responsible Person." With a reassuring hand on her head, Raff soothed the tiny, determined girl. "Slow yourself down, Jeynie. Gregor and Unella know that you were told to stay here today. They are busy too and have no time for detentions or house repair right now. Why don't you visit with Myranda and I'll call you for some pizza later?"

 

Chapter Text

Sansa's smile was charming, inquisitive and her voice was light, polite. "So, what you do you enjoy? Books, music, movies? I never see you leave this school but I have never seen you down the hill. Surely, you have free time to pursue your own interests, Gilly?" She sipped her tea while Gilly finished eating a cookie and gave Sansa a flat but nice smile back.

"I have nowhere I want or need to go out of here. Plus, I am not a student, I am a servant so I really don't belong down the hill. I am taking classes already in private for learning. Kevan has shown me musicals, I like those and he sends my phone a new one each week. I have some movies of my favorites, too. Reading is fun, that is what I like to do when I have time to myself. I have all my adventures through the stories."

They discussed musicals and books until Sansa wished to toss herself out of the window. "I know you have a whole bunch of sisters. They live with Kevan's son, don't they? I think Myranda was mentioning it to her friends, Jeyne and Hot Pie. I sort of overheard them. Have you heard if they are doing okay?" Sansa wondered if she was finally getting somewhere when Gilly's face animated. She spoke of her sisters, their quirks, ages and funny stories of them.

After hearing so much about each sister, Sansa leaned closer. "I am lucky that I have my sister here with me. I miss my brothers terribly though. I understand how it feels to be separated from your family. Listen, Gilly...if you know your siblings are with the Lannisters...why don't you call them? And you know, I think you would fit in really well with my friends down the hill. You can come down and eat Hot Pie's cooking and read books at our library. I mean...did Kevan specifically ban you from calling your sisters or visiting down at the school?"

Gilly finished her tea and shrugged. "Kevan did not forbid me from those things, no. I am not very good with making friends...I am happy staying right here. But I would like to speak with my sisters again. Sometime I can ask Kevan if he thought it would be alright to do so." Sansa smiled and nodded. "I understand. By the way, do you have any pictures of your sisters on that cell Kevan gave you? I would love to see if they match the descriptions you gave me!" With a bright eager face, Gilly pulled out her phone and unlocked it. "Yes! Kevan had his son take a picture of all the girls together so I could use it for my screen. Here, see?"

Sansa took the phone and looked at the picture then quickly pressed a number, grinning. Paling, Gilly grabbed for her cell and Sansa moved away. "Yes, may I speak with Belinda or Carla, please?" Gilly fumed and tried not to panic. Sansa grinned and playfully, softly held out the cell phone. "Don't you want to talk to your sisters? Live a little, would you? Kevan never said you couldn't call them, right? So you aren't breaking any rules and I want to hear more about the girls, you can't tell me more unless you talk to them and learn their new adventures."

With a mix of reluctance and excitement to speak with her sisters, Gilly took the phone.

Kevan sat with folded hands, his pen playing, dancing lightly upon his knuckles as he watched his brother. Tywin's jaw was so tight, it seemed in danger of fracturing and his eyes blazed with frustrated anger. The man was pacing before the desk, Kevan was mildly amused to see him so agitated. Shaking his head, Kevan chided him, fully enjoying himself in spite of his own concerns.

"I have told you before, you are far too cranky and impulsive to deal with late night decisions. Had you waited until morning to speak with Ned, perhaps you wouldn't have killed him so fast. How could you not have seen how Cat Stark would react? Did you think she would cower before you and beg for another chance? Did you think she would send Robb to you for kneeling and debasing? Truly?"

Tywin's fists tightened at his sides but he acknowledged his brother with a slight nod.

"I might have overreacted with Ned. I lost a significant amount of money on that fire! And it was presumptuous to assume I wished for Balon to die and in that manner! Not that it matters at this point, what is done, is done. I know that those Starks are too proud, that woman is far too proud to crawl or cower or beg. However, I thought she would have enough sense to not cancel all work with us and try to dare challenge me! Two of my warehouses burned last night! Then three of my men turn up dead. She cut all ties with Roose Bolton as well. Cat and her sons are hidden in their home surrounded by her damned men. They are planning services and I'll be damned if I'll go and offer her sympathies. She will demand her daughters attend the funeral, of course. The second they do, she will find a way to kidnap them unless you heavily guard them. That woman wants her family cut away from us, the second she has them, they will all disappear until she is ready for a war."

Kevan sighed and twirled his pen idly. "The girls will not be going anywhere. I will not allow them to leave this school under any circumstances. I am no monster, of course, their grieving mother and brothers may visit with them here. I am sure Cat will be calling over it soon enough. She and her sons will be frisked and see their daughters in a weaponless room with men stationed around doors and windows. Then they may have a few minutes of privacy with the girls and that will be that." Tywin grunted and sat down on the couch nearby, refusing to sit in a chair like a naughty student before the headmaster.

"I wouldn't put it past Cat to try and slit the girls' throats rather than let you keep them hostage here. She isn't a stupid woman. Her time is short and she knows it. I will give her the time for her services and then I am hunting her and her sons down. Those girls are going to be the last of the Stark name and line, everything will become theirs and they are ours." Kevan shook his head with a small smile. "No, brother. The girls are mine, not yours. They belong to this school and I will not allow them to be a part of your war with Cat. This is a safe place for them to grow and learn until they are adults. I am not letting you or the doomed Starks rip them from their small protected world."

Tywin stood again and walked over to lean on the desk. "Kevan, keeping the girls here simply isn't enough. Cat will try anything to retrieve them, you put your school, all the students in danger until I have managed to kill her and those boys. There are all the damned Tullys! Even if we manage to keep every damned relative away or they all drop dead, everything goes into a trust fund for the girls. They cannot access it until they are adults and I am sure that we are not named in the wills to run things for the ladies! Everything they own will be run by Petyr most likely until they turn eighteen. I need those girls locked down into our family line and I need control of their inheritances."

"My brother, you ask too much of me sometimes. You want me to arrange to have two minors marry? Do you have any idea how Joff and Arya would react to that? I can assure you that it would cause both some issues right now. As for Sansa, she shows great promise here and you want me to do what? Marry her off to her own professor, old enough to be her father...or my son who is publicly gay. Have you gone mad, man?"

"Kevan, I have supported and funded every idea you have ever had! I have never interfered in your school and I don't wish to now. But please, do you understand how important this is?" Tywin spoke for another few minutes upon the subject of his desperate need to gain control of the Stark fortune and Kevan finally put his hand out and pleaded, "Enough. I hope you appreciate what I do for family duty. I will compromise with you on that. Is that all? Are you done with the ranting, brother?" Tywin seemed slightly relieved that his brother was willing to help at all.

"Sadly, there is a little more. Since Balon is dead, Euron Greyjoy has returned to the city. He wants to establish his own place here now, on the ashes of his brother's land, in fact. Euron's lobster and fishing business is booming and his drug trade as well as his human trafficking trade are also quite profitable. I want him gone and fast. We both know how dangerous the man is and he is far too hard to try and kill. He has offered to leave and take his trades elsewhere, provided he is given his nephew and anything left of Balon's estates."

Kevan stared at Tywin. "I do not sell off my students. Theon does not leave this school. Even if you and the others stop paying for his stay here, same as Hot Pie or Myranda, we shall find a useful talent for him to use here. Euron may speak with me all he'd like but he isn't taking Theon. And he won't be visiting here or speaking with Theon until after I am assured that Theon is ready for such a thing. I will not have the boy backslide further in his fragile mental condition over any of you. And I am warning you, brother, if Cat, Robb or Euron show here to visit, they will not suffer any harm near this school. Keep your bloody revenge away from the students, if you please and away from my school."

Raff and Polliver drank and played cards with Damon and Loras while the girls napped upstairs, Ramsay and Joff immersed in some horror movie. When their movie ended, the two professors entered with the unconventional dinner. Stannis carried disposable trays full of freshly baked pizzas and Tyrion carried the casserole tin full of loaded nachos.

"Hot Pie is cleaning up and then has to cook food to send up to Kevan's house. He has never had to cook for them up there before, poor boy is beside himself. We left him to work in peace. I suggested he have one of his own drinks. Silly young man actually said that he wouldn't even sip at it as it would knock him to the floor." Tyrion chuckled over the thought and took a large gulp of that special lemonade.

Raff called the girls down and everyone landed in the common room to eat. Ramsay harassed Jeyne by holding up crusts and offering them to her if she would beg like a dog. Without looking away from his conversation with Stannis, Raff called out sweetly, "Jeynie, why don't you get the remote control and pick the next show for us? Good girl. Hey, Ramsay, guess who just failed their physical health report this month and needs extra gym time scheduled?"

Joff, Ramsay and Damon all stared at the screen in horror as a musical with a singing witch caught Jeyne's attention. Tyrion looked up and smiled widely at Jeyne. "Andrew Lloyd Webber is always a good choice, young lady! Excellent, turn it up a bit so we might all enjoy it. I'm sure the boys are in dire need of some exposure to a good rousing musical." Tyrion presented a pitcher of Hot Pie's spiked lemonade for Raff and Polliver to sample.

Stannis proposed they all play a role playing game or a board game. Jeyne was glued to the musical, standing in front of the screen, looking up at it and her fingers moved in time with the music. Ramsay and Joff chose to go to their room rather than play any games with staff or bear anymore of the musical. Myranda, Loras and Damon found themselves trapped in a game with the professors, their counselor and the school nurse.

By the time the musical was half over, Jeyne was humming and utterly lost in the woods of the musical. The staff was hopelessly buzzed and being utterly destroyed by Myranda and Loras in a high stakes Monopoly game. Damon had lost interest in both the musical and the board game and was napping on the couch. No one saw Ramsay and Joff sneak out the back door.

Hot Pie was trying to catch his breath as he started to tiredly clean up his mess from his raging panicked chaos of cooking. It figures that the one night he gets to cook for Kevan Lannister, it was pizza night! Not only that, he had less than an hour after making the student and school staff their pizza. He had nearly killed himself to throw together a quick yet impressive meal for the big house.

While he had thrown things together, Unella and Gregor had come in long enough to eat their own pizzas. As soon as the food was finished and put in trays, Gregor and Unella carried it up to Kevan's house. Hot Pie was hoping to do it himself so he could see if they enjoyed the food but it wasn't to be. And since the school was on lock down, Hot Pie wasn't going to be seeing Myranda or Jeyne for clean up assistance tonight.

Sighing, he had gotten to work on dishes and mopping. He hoped there might be a chance of heading back to the dorm and getting to relax with Jeyne and Myranda. They have all been so busy that they haven't had a chance to see each other out of cafeteria work times really. Hot Pie took a rag and started to clean the counter then heard something. A click, a whooshing then a crackling. Pausing, the cook peered over the counter into the kitchen but saw nothing.

The sound was still there and Hot Pie knew that sound quite well. He went into the kitchen and over to see the front left burner with it's blue flames turned all way up. Fear ran up Hot Pie's spine like maddened panic dogs and he turned to run but only encountered Ramsay's fist. Then he was on the ground, tasting blood in his mouth and holding his aching jaw. He looked up at Joff and Ramsay smiling down at him.

They dragged him to the stove and Ramsay used a fist in Hot Pie's hair to force his face towards the flames. "Should we make you look like Sandor or just a bit worse than that?" Joff snickered but Hot Pie squealed loudly as the flames were close enough to nearly singe his eyebrows.

Ramsay growled, "Scream again and I'll melt your face like butter. Now, I don't like the way you are disrespectful to my friend Joff. And you don't treat me very nice either. I know you are from a poor home and low class so you don't understand how important someone like Joff is. But now you do, now you understand to be more respectful. Right?" 

"Right! Yes! Please, accept my apologies for not being more respectful! Joff, Ramsay, please allow me the chance to make up for my rudeness. I can make anything you could want!" Hot Pie was internally thanking Polliver for teaching him the detestable lesson of groveling betters for favor. He was also thanking Gregor for burying him until he learned to watch his smart ass mouth.

He stared down into the flames and hoped, prayed, these upper class bullies enjoyed the idea of a groveling cook more than a crispy, blinded one.

Chapter Text

Gilly enjoyed hearing of how well her sisters were all doing. The pool, horses, phantom toads that scatter their belongings about in between adventures. Sara had given great detail on this while Mari yelled helpfully from the background. "I founded COWBOY HATS AND BOOTS! Then, then, Mari, I'm telling her! Mari saw bathing suits and tiny sunglasses! One time! I am telling her! One time I saw ham gliders! Yes, they IS called that, Mari!"

Sansa listened politely with a smile of longing and gentle amusement while internally she died just a tiny bit more.

Eventually, the children released the phone to the older sisters and Gilly heard of school, horse back riding and swimming. When Clara finally got the phone, Gilly said reluctantly but firmly, "Clara, I'm sorry, one of the students hit the number and I couldn't just hang up on the girls. But I really don't feel comfortable chatting long during my work hours. Also, I am not clear on whether I am allowed to be talking with you. You are all under a new last name for a reason, this might not be safe for you."

Sansa blushed and looked as if she was slightly embarrassed at her little prank. Mentally she envisioned The Gilly tank exploding into bursts of fiery clouds.

"Oh Gilly! Wait, don't go just yet, let me chat with you just for a second. I assure you, we have never been safer than we all are right now, sister. Also, Lancel has flat out told us we can speak with you. I just wasn't sure if you were allowed to make phone calls. I wish you were here with us, we all belong together. I wish I could make you as safe as we are, as blessed as we are." Gilly frowned at Clara's worried voice. 

"I am perfectly safe too. I am just as blessed. Maybe we are separated for now but I am content and glad that you are happy too. You all deserve every bit of happiness you can get. But don't worry about me, I am happy here, I like the work, I like the quiet and if you remember, I was always the loner of the group." Clara didn't sound any less worried. "Gilly, you aren't even sure if you are allowed to make phone calls to your own sisters? You never, ever leave the house except to walk around the lawn. That is why I am concerned. Lancel is Kevan's son, he told us that he can try and see if his father will release you to him. It might take some time but-"

Gilly sat straight and shocked in her chair, responding fast. "No. Don't have him do that. I like it here, I want to stay where I am. You never listen to me. Please hear me this time. You always try to do what you think is best for all of us. I know that and I appreciate it. But I am on my own now and this is what I want. I am loyal to Kevan Lannister and I am happy living at the school. I need to hang up now, I miss and love you, bye."

The girl hung up her phone and put it in her pocket, her face troubled and mutinous. Sansa knew she lost this round and had to regroup. Gilly turned and looked at Sansa rather sternly. "Please don't ever do that again. You are a student here and I am Kevan's housekeeper. Playing pranks on servants is funny is the upper circles, that's at least what I heard." Sansa had given a humble apology full of sincere, humbled eyes. Gilly had politely but coldly accepted the apology.

They stood in awkward silence, watching Tywin Lannister leave from the windows. For the first time in history, two girls were actually thrilled to see Harold show up. "Sansa? Thank you so much for waiting here. Kevan asked if you would like to join him for dinner? I would be happy to escort you there." With a smile, Sansa walked over to Harold and ignored how her skin tried to stay behind. "Of course, thank you."

Gilly breathed a sigh of relief and started to clean up the tea items. Freezing, while bent over to pick up a few crumbs on the floor, Gilly spoke. "Yes, Bob? How can I help you?" A small chuckle from behind her and Gilly began to finish her quick sweep up of the crumbs. Standing back up, Gilly turned and Bob was taking the crumbs from her to toss into the small wastebasket. Smiling at her, Bob put his hand on Gilly's thick braid and slid down it, as if studying it's texture.

Gilly gave a shiver she couldn't help but looked into those mirrored glasses with a small polite smile. "Darling Gilly, we all appreciate the extra work you've done today. Please save this for later and come with me." Nodding, Gilly allowed Bob to hold her shoulders and lead her downstairs and into the kitchen. The lights were dim and there was a lovely set up for one. A small serving tray held lasagna, salad, Italian soup and a bottle of wine. "Harold promised you supper, I believe. Please enjoy."

Sandor was cranky, he was fucking starving. So were Theon and Arya, tired, hungry and cranky, that is. He didn't get the text to go back towards the main school area until it was near dusk. Racing, they tried to fly back, both kids were pissed at Sandor. They had asked a few times to head back once they saw how late it was getting. "Hey, it's you that better explain why we missed our other classes!" "Raff is gonna murder us, we missed medication line and group therapy, fuck! I don't want a damned hot water and chili pepper enema or something because we played on bikes!" "No, instead of enemas, we are gonna get stuck with a million hours on hell house detention!"

Finally, Sandor had yelled at them in frustration just before he received the damned text, of course. "Shut up! Sick of your fucking whining, the both of you! No classes or therapies are happening! You aren't missing anything so shut the fuck up. School went into lock down just as we got here earlier. The protocol is to stay where we are until it ends. That is what we are fucking doing. Ride, whine or cry just far enough way that I don't have to hear or I swear I'll smack your heads together." 

Arya tilted her head and gave a smirk to her mentor. "Is that why you are wearing a gun? I saw it earlier, at least the shape of the holster. My parents and oldest brother carry concealed guns sometimes. I know what it looks like. Theon knew it, too, he said something to me first. For some reason, he was afraid you might shoot us. Are you out here to kill us?" Sandor rolled his eyes and glared at the brat.

"Why would I have waited this long and allowed myself to starve, force my ears to fill with your whoops, hollers and whining all day? I would have lured you out here and shot you while you took your first ride out. Idiots. It's to protect you both from any possible danger during a lock down. Don't ask me why we are on lock down, I don't know. Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you. Now shut up."

Theon and Arya sulked until Sandor heard the buzzing, saw the text and gave a long sigh of relief. Both kids let out a cheer that rattled Sandor's eardrums when he announced they could ride back. They got to the dorm and rushed in, since the text from Unella just said that pizza was sent to the dorms. They all rushed in and nearly burst into tears. A few scattered nachos, some crusts and a sad, lonely piece of circle cut pepperoni slowly curled up to die on a plastic plate.

Sandor glared at the professors, Polliver and Raff, all sitting with Myranda and Loras still deep in their game.

"Monsters, all of you. We are fucking starved and you ate everything." Shrugging, Raff rolled up his eyes in drunken innocence. "We had no idea when you were coming back. Sorry. Try the kitchen, Hot Pie is still there. Ask him to make more lemonade too!" Tyrion and Polliver attempted a high five over the idea as they cheered. Stannis continued to stare at Myranda, who was considering whether or not to buy out his railroads.

Joff had laughed as Ramsay inched Hot Pie's face closer to the flames. "What a stupid thing to offer after you already fed me pizza and nachos. I am not hungry right now. Guess we decide which side of your face to burn. Which eye do you really want to see out of? Or should we just burn one hand off? Can you still cook as well with one hand, boy?" Hot Pie thought frantically as he felt his face turning redder.

"I also make drinks! For the staff! I can give you any drink I know how to make! I have high class stuff too, not the cheap stuff! Please, I swear it! I'll make you drinks, I'll serve you with respect, please, Joff!"

That had done it and Ramsay threw Hot Pie onto the ground and shut off the burner. "You better not be lying, you little fucking low class piece of shit. Do you think someone of Joff's caliber won't be able to tell high quality? You best move your ass, boy! Get the booze and get mixing! If Joff doesn't like the drink, if he doesn't feel it's high class then I'm going to cook you."

The whole time Hot Pie made their drinks, the bullies continued their harassment. Tripping, punching and kicking, random slaps just for the hell of it as Hot Pie frantically tried to make more lemonade. Finally it was done and Hot Pie poured a full pitcher of it over ice. Joff and Ramsay sat at the student dinner table. Gesturing to Hot Pie, Joff waited impatiently to be served. Pretending that it was the staff he was trying to appease, Hot Pie hurried to gracefully serve Joff his first drink.

He carefully poured it into a glass then slid it over in front of Joff, then poured another for Ramsay. "I hope you like it." Hot Pie stepped back and waited, knowing better than to try and leave. Joff made a big deal of examining the glass, sniffing it then finally taking a sip. His face told the truth even as he simply said, "Ramsay, give it a try. I say he did use high quality and it's good. But it isn't the best thing ever."

Ramsay made the examination of the drink even longer before he nodded.

"I agree it's good quality. I agree its very good. And of course, he probably could do better, just like you said. However, we must remember that this creature has probably never had proper training in pleasing the upper classes. We could be charitable and not burn him. What about just two toes in the deep fryer that he can eat like a snack while we drink? Or one finger in the blender, just taking off a pinky won't affect his cooking or mixing of drinks?"

Joff giggled in such a child like malicious way that Hot Pie shuddered. "Please, I am so sorry for how I acted in the past. I promise to always show respect, cook and sneak drinks to you whenever you want. I've learned my lesson, Joff! I will make up for it any way you want. You don't need to mutilate or torture me, I understand. I will treat you correctly for now on, I promise."

Ramsay smiled at Joff. "I say we drink on it, think about it and let the boy sweat it out. He can stand here while we contemplate whether his punishment is over yet." Hot Pie stood there while they discussed several horrific options that involved removing parts of him. He had added a little more liquor than usual to the drink in hopes that they will get drunk and pass out. Hot Pie would have added rat poison to the drinks if the boys hadn't been watching him the whole time.

Instead of getting fuzzy and tired, the liquor just fueled their flames. They stood up and Hot Pie backed up slightly. Ramsay gave a lovely grin, almost tender and Hot Pie turned and bolted. He had the worst feeling that look of Ramsay's might have been the last thing some might have seen before they died. Hot Pie wasn't about to wait around and find out. Even if Joff didn't say Ramsay could kill him, Hot Pie knew they would do more than just beat on him. He wasn't willing to lose pieces.

The heavy glass pitcher smashed into the back of his head, knocking Hot Pie senseless on the floor. He couldn't get his limbs to work and there was blood, so much fucking blood. In a fuzzy thick way, he heard two giggling killers lean over him then he was being dragged. One hand smacked into the blood and dragged a long bloody smear towards the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Kevan sat at one end of the dining room table, Sansa at the other. Bob and Harold sat on either side. The table had been formerly set but the food came in the school trays. However, the quality of the food was way better than most school meals ever have a right to be. Sansa was used to Hot Pie's delicious meals and enjoyed watching the magic wield itself upon the three men. Any discussion, news or grilling from Kevan would have to wait until he has finished his meal.

"I love Gilly's cooking, of course. She makes excellent meals that I am always grateful for. But if I didn't have her, I would chain that boy to my own kitchen. No wonder why the staff goes out of their way to accommodate him. I have only ever eaten his pastries before." Bob and Harold nodded, unable to give attention to much beyond their plates. Sansa ate her fill and sat fiddling with her napkin, unable to feel comfortable eating here.

For Kevan to invite her to dinner after having her stay upstairs all day, something was wrong. Whatever it is, it has to wait until the men have finished feasting and Sansa felt a small flash of hatred for Hot Pie. Why did his food have to be so good that grown adults can't take the time to explain important things tho their students? After there was a barely enough scraps for the trashcan, the men sat back and sighed in wonder at the delicious meal.  

Dabbing at his lips with a napkin, Kevan finally looked over at Sansa. "Well now, I hope you enjoyed that as much as we did. Please forgive our animal behavior, we don't often receive lasagna. Now, I am very sorry about having to keep you locked upstairs as if you were a princess held captive in a tower. That certainly isn't the case, the whole school was on lock down while I had a visitor today. My brother came to see me about very urgent and distressing matters. I am sorry to say that those matters involve yourself and your sister."

Sansa felt her spine become steel as her mother had taught her. All Cat's children had perfect posture, since all the chairs they used as children had either small nubs or dulled spikes on the backs. Cat's hand hurt nearly as bad when she would hit her palm hard, flat against the child's chest so that they couldn't get away from the discomfort any other way than to sit perfectly straight and still. Ghost spikes pricked her back as Sansa's chin went up slightly and she focused on Kevan.

The smile that spread across his face discomforted her.

"Ah, dearest. Forgive me, this is no time for smiles or reminiscing. But for one brief moment, you looked so very much like your mother. She mentored with me as well, at least for a short time. And Sansa, your mother did visit the very circle you did except her punishment was a little different. A little more severe, perhaps. I'm sorry, you've probably heard me ramble on about this before. I'm an old man, Sansa, you'll have to forgive me."

Bob and Harold gave understanding smiles and Sansa matched them. She fantasized climbing onto the table, racing over to Kevan and stabbing his fork into his eye. Sansa sat patiently while Kevan took another sip of wine and she thought about smashing the two mirror eyed freaks together until their faces were mush. Kevan sobered once more and folded his hands on the table.

"I am very sorry to inform you, dear, your father passed into the hereafter this week. I have been assured that it was fast and he did not suffer. Please, accept my deepest and most sincere condolences, Sansa."

Sansa just tilted her head and waited for the joke, the punchline. Harold and Bob were each patting one of her hands and Kevan has now stood up, walking over. "My dear? Did you hear me? Do you understand that your father has died, has passed away? Sweet girl, I know it is so much to take in, the grief can be overwhelming. Perhaps we should summon Unella or Raff for you?"

She could actually see as well as feel the new crack running through her porcelain doll skin and she struggled hard past it to speak. "My father died? How? When? Did my mother try to call? My father died?" And her first coherent thought out of a shocked jumble of half formed thoughts was, that cold bitch killed him. Sansa burst into tears and didn't have to worry about her acting briefly as she held her face in her hands.

For a moment, Sansa almost attacked the distinguished old man. When Kevan pulled her out of the chair and presumed to hug her as if it would be actual true comfort, she felt a flash of rage that overcame and soothed her grief down. The anger was good, it allowed her to clear her head, the tears were real but the emotions were as fake as Kevan's now. Sansa hated that she found as much comfort in revenge and hatred as her damned mother.

"Sir, how did my father die?" Sansa spoke into his suit, staring at his gold pen in his pocket as Kevan pulled back but kept his hands on her shoulders. Kevan cleared his throat then looked the girl directly in the eye.

"I hope you are old enough to understand what has happened and how it will affect you. Though having Cat Stark as a mother probably has prepared you for such grim but eventual events of course. I am afraid that your father had a rather fatal falling out with the Greyjoys, which caused him to have a rather fatal falling out with the Lannisters. The Starks have created enemies out of my family, the Boltons and others. Your mother and brother will of course be trying to reach you and your sister. I am afraid due to the dangers of this war brewing, it would not be safe for you or Arya to attend any services. I will allow your family a chance to visit both of you here if they wish, if you and Arya wish it."

Sansa spoke with a soft, sweet and respectful tone but her question was anything but. "So, have we gone from students to hostages, Sir? I only wish to understand if my sister and I are truly safe." Kevan raised an eyebrow and the twins shared a tiny smirk with each other.

"Ah, so much like your mother when she was your age, dear. No offense taken, I understand you are both grieving and concerned. You are not hostages, you are my wards, my students and fostered here by the hand of the law. Your father's death does not change this. However, your mother may try other ways, terrible ways if need be to keep both you girls from staying within any Lannister reach, even one as benign as myself."

Kevan gave a charming smile. "I would never allow your mother or brothers to harm or kidnap you or your sister nor will anyone else reach you here. However, Tywin feels that more might be needed. And as much as I am against his plans, I have to admit it would make both of you girls much safer. I am able to at least give you some options where your sister will have none."

Paling, Sansa gasped. "The threat to marry Arya to Joff? Are you going to make her marry him truly? That doesn't make my sister safer at all! And she is a mere baby and he is too!" Kevan gave a saddened nod. "I really have no choice. Of course, they are far too young and it would be distasteful to have two married minors as students. I have had papers drawn up that both of them will sign and then we will officially announce their engagement to the parties that should be aware of it. The contract will bind them to marrying upon their eighteenth birthdays."

Sansa shuddered to think of Arya saddled with that little pompous sadist and felt true pity for her. Then she steeled herself and looked up at Kevan, who was patiently waiting for her to adsorb all of this. "And what of me, Sir? I assume it's not only my little sister that must be tied to another name besides Stark. Who must I marry when I turn eighteen?" 

Ramsay and Joff each had one of Hot Pie's legs to drag the dazed but desperate cook into the kitchen. Hot Pie moaned, unable to scream through the streaking colors and pain in his head. He tasted blood, he felt coated in it and if his limbs would only cooperate, he could try and get away again or fight back. Joff dropped the leg and ran to the large stove and flung the door open. "Push him inside here, I want to roast him! Let's cook the cook!"

Hot Pie tried to speak past the manic giggle of Joff and his words were slurred. "Please, no, please! Did what you wanted. Why? Please don't." Joff came skipping over and leaned over the cringing cook. "Why? Because I want to. That's all, really. I mean who will care if some low class pig like you goes missing or is roasted alive?" He tried to respond but Ramsay did first after kicking Hot Pie hard to shut him up.

"Believe it or not, Joff, in this fucking hellish place, they would care. They want their tummies appeased and the cook provides that. We know that they ignore social class here, they would blame us, put us back in the circle or toss us off to the Tickler. We can't roast the cook as much as I want to do that for you, we have to do something that won't kill him. His head is bleeding pretty bad but head wounds do that, his words are slurred so he's already hurt. Let's just pick a cooking utensil or two and see what we can play with."

Groaning, Hot Pie tried to crawl away as the two boys started to search the kitchen for interesting torture devices. Joff noticed the boy made it only a few inches before collapsing but he still ran to stomp on him. This caused Joff to slip in the blood and fall down, hollering in pure disgust. He used his new position to brutally slam his feet into any part of the cook that he could reach. Hot Pie curled up and fought not to just sink under the pain and let the world fade away.

As Ramsay came forward with several types of peelers and graters, they heard the front door of the cafeteria open and froze. Hissing, Ramsay whispered, "Go out the back door fast. Get into the dorm house and shower fast. I'll make sure that the boy won't talk and follow behind you." Joff looked like a boy caught in the cookie jar and he whispered back, "Just kill him fast! He will tell, they always tell on me, kill him or I can."

"I won't tell. I won't say anything. I swear." Ramsay leaned over and smiled at the slurred words. "If you do tell, I will kill you. Cook you in your own oven and try to see if you taste any good. Do you think I won't? Even if I had to wait a year or two...I'd get you and when I take a life, I like to really take my time at it." Hot Pie didn't respond and Joff sighed as Ramsay tried slapping the graying boy's cheek. "Good, maybe he's dying or dead even. Let's go, Ramsay."

Theon and Arya had run ahead of Sandor and thrust the door open, running through the dim hallway that led into the cafeteria. They skidded to a halt and stared at the blood on the cheap tiles. "Ah fuck." Shoving both kids behind him, Sandor took out his gun and began to go towards the kitchen behind the long steel counter. He saw Hot Pie and rushed forward, grabbing his cell at the same time.

After hitting the alert for emergency assistance from all staff, Sandor turned to yell at the kids to head back to the dorm. Both were already standing closer, looking in horror at the limp bloody cook. Theon ran off first but Arya grabbed dishtowels and started to try and help Sandor figure out how to stable Hot Pie. Sandor was relieved that the boy had a pulse, was still breathing but it was shallow.

Before the four could react to their texts, Theon burst into the dorm house. "HELP! HURRY! HELP HIM, HE'S DYING, HE IS COVERED IN SO MUCH BLOOD AND I THINK HE'S ALMOST DEAD!" All four of them got unsteadily to their feet and Polliver narrowed his eyes at Theon. "Duckling, who is hurt, who needs help?" Theon waved his hands around as he hollered. "THE COOK! HE IS NOT MOVING AND COVERED IN SO MUCH BLOOD! HELP!"

Theon barely moved in time before being stampeded as they all ran out the door, towards the cafeteria. As the group headed for the school, Gregor and Unella came from a different direction and they all collided. Myranda and Jeyne were just behind the group and the whore went around the jumble of limbs but Jeyne just leaped right over them. Stepping lightly upon Tyrion's back, the feral leaped and only skimmed the top of Gregor's shoulder before she was past them heading to help her friend.

Damon and Loras watched as the jumble managed to separate and head into the cafeteria. Ramsay and Joff came out with wet hair and smirks to sit on the railing and watch the fun. Theon came onto the porch and babbled to them about how Hot Pie had looked. Damon stared hard at Ramsay and Joff. "You did it. Why? He gave us good food and was always nice. What did Hot Pie ever to do you? Did you fucking kill him?" Ramsay smirked and spoke so sugary to Damon that Theon began to sulk.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Did any of those victims you and I tortured together deserve what we did to them? Did you care then? Why should you care now? And no, if it was me, I wouldn't have killed the cook, just fuck him up. Course, I didn't do it and Joff didn't either." Damon growled but Ramsay gave him innocent eyes then turned to grab onto the sulky Theon.

"Let them all worry about their cook. The staff is gone and we finally have some time to ourselves. Don't worry so much, Theon, the cook will be fine, he's alive." Nodding, Theon allowed Ramsay to pull him inside the house. It's not that Theon wasn't worried about Hot Pie, he was. But when does he ever get a chance to be alone with Ramsay anymore? More importantly, how long has it been since it was Ramsay's suggestion and not his own?

So Theon allowed Ramsay to take him to his bed and bite, kiss and insult him while ripping his clothing off, thrusting inside as Theon cried out and wrapped his limbs around his brutal lover. "I love you, Ramsay, I miss you so much, I love you, I want you, please, hurt me, love me too."

Chapter Text

Joff sneered as the entire staff carried Hot Pie to the clinic like a frantic group of starving cannibals finally able to enjoy their meal. Jeyne and Myranda were part of the group, but Arya broke off and headed to the dorm porch to join the others. She immediately saw Joff's look and punched his nose hard.

"Asshole! You and Death Row just had to fuck with him, with someone, right? I hope Polliver fucking buries you. He will come for your asses, don't think he wont! It's not so hard to figure out who did it! And Polliver is Hot Pie's mentor, he's gonna destroy you!"

Joff raised his fists after squealing over his swelling nose and took a step towards Arya, who wasn't backing down. "Don't you ever hit me, you cunt. A Stark is still lower than a Lannister. I'll have Ramsay cut your fucking throat after raping you if I want to. Or maybe I'll just fuck you up now and have Ramsay kill you later." Damon was suddenly in front of Arya, who rolled her eyes. Joff paled and took a few steps back. "Don't you touch me, you fucking Neanderthal!"

From behind Damon came Arya's taunting voice. "Oh sure, you couldn't remember the word to pass the test yesterday, now you can remember it to use it as an insult. Maybe Stannis just has to learn to use all the terms in insult form." Damon glared down at Joff. "If you try to hurt her, if you tell Ramsay to go after her, I'm coming for you. Ramsay told you what we used to do. He loves to tell stories. I will do those things to you."

Sneering but pale with fear of the kind idiot turned hulking nightmare with blazing eyes and a cruel smile that Joff has never seen before, that he backed down. "Fine, she isn't worth my trouble anyway. Now leave me alone, Sidebitch!" Damon lunged forward to make Joff squeal and fall on his ass, then walked away as Arya and Loras laughed. Damon and Loras leaned on the railing on the right side of the porch, Joff sat on the railing to the far left, keeping his distance.

Arya sat on the steps after getting herself a soda. They waited to see if their cook was going to live or die.

The clinic has never been so full or chaotic before. They raged and ranted and Unella swore, hissing to Raff, "The staff is worse than the students! I want everyone cleared the hell out of here now! Get them out of this clinic!" Unella had been beyond pissed to be forced to spend all day hanging around the main house in case Kevan might need of her skills. Just to find out while she and Gregor spent all day waiting to see if anyone needed healing or killing, the rest of the staff was getting drunk off their asses while one of the charges was nearly killed.

She had to give Raff a quick shot of adrenaline just to keep him coherent enough for her while they worked on Hot Pie. Now she shoved him hard and pointed towards the door that kept opening. "Get them out or I'm going to kill all of you personally. Listen carefully, you stupid young punk, if this cook doesn't recover, I won't get all the food I need and crave. Do you want to be the person at all hours of the night running forty minutes to the one grocery store that sells the stuff I want? Then you can prepare it for me, even though just LOOKING at most of the food I eat makes you puke." Unella grunted in satisfaction as Raff ran to clear the clinic.   

Jeyne and Myranda were pressed against the wall near the door of the clinic. Not because that is where they usually go, but they were afraid of being crushed in the panicked crowd. Only their concern for their friend kept them from fleeing the chaos. Raff came to the door over and over to shove different half drunk staff out of the surgery room. Finally, he looked over at Gregor who was the only sober, clear headed person besides the quite shaken Sandor. Raff raised his voice to be heard over the extreme concerns of the cook's health.

"Gregor! We need quiet and privacy to work on Hot Pie! They are all fucking drunk, can you get them out of here? They aren't coherent enough to understand that Hot Pie isn't dying. They think he will have lost all memory of how to cook or that he will develop PTSD over culinary tools. Listen, all of you! Hot Pie has a bad concussion and needs several stitches. Then a week rest or so and he will be fine. Bruises and minor fractures will heal. Did you hear me, you morons? Now get out!"

The murmur and yells of the staff stopped as Raff spoke and all eyes were upon him. It was the perfect time for Gregor to start herding them all out the door. But Jeyne piped up. "Is that a pretty lie so we all leave? Are you SURE he will be fine? His head is okay? Body will be okay?" Raff sighed then replied, "As a nurse I am fairly certain that-" He cursed as the clamor began and he snapped at Gregor and Sandor.

"Please, can you two get them all the fuck out of here? I need to help with the boy and I can't do that while shoving these ass hats out of the room every three seconds!" 

As Gregor and Sandor tried to shove the counselor and professors towards the door, Myranda grabbed Jeyne and they left. As they walked, they saw the small wood pile and with a sweet poison smile, Myranda went over and got the small hatchet. Jeyne grinned and started to growl deep in her throat, readying for the bloody take down of the two assholes that dared to fuck with their friend. 

"Jeyne! Myranda! Young ladies, you will stop and wait!" With an impatient snarl, Jeyne stopped as Myranda spun around to defend their actions. Stannis's long stride took him to the girls faster while Tyrion huffed behind him. "I do understand the boy is your friend, but that is nothing compared to what he is to this school! I demand to be the one to use the hatchet! Sir, I do believe we should get my dueling pistols!"

Tyrion caught up. "We do not have time to search out those ancient things, Stannis! This must be a proper lynching. You and Myranda go after Ramsay, Jeyne and I will execute Joff with extreme prejudice! What if the boy never recalls the recipe for lemonade? Or decides cooking is too dangerous of a profession? Those boys must pay for this outrage! My nephew has finally gone too far this time."

Polliver shoved past all of them to walk in the lead as they all marched towards the dorm house. "None of you have it right. I am going to be the one to murder the little fucked up ducklings. Hot Pie is my boy! I am his mentor and I failed to protect him. I am going to spell that failure out all over their flesh until they are as bloody and as gray as poor Hot Pie is!"

His baton was smacking hard into his other palm, Polliver's eyes were full of promising menace and he was chanting softly to himself. "Gonna whack those mallards, gonna pluck those feathers, gonna fuck up some ducklings till they learn to NEVER fuck with something of mine." With a sigh that nearly knocked them all over, Gregor joined the march along with Sandor.

"No one is killing the two morons. Hot Pie isn't dead, just badly hurt. So we will punish the two we know did it and that is that. Myranda, I'm going to give you one second to get rid of the fucking hatchet." Another sigh and Gregor reached over to whack Myranda's head.

"Handing the hatchet to Jeyne was not what I meant and you know it. Jeyne, stop swinging that thing and hand it to Nanny Gregor right now. Good girl. Now, can you keep control,ladies? Allow the staff to do their job and deal with our very naughty students? Because if you try to attack them, you'll both be in trouble too. Both of you have done so well, I'd hate to see you backslide over these two douche bags." 

Myranda smiled and held tightly to Jeyne's arm. "Oh yes, we just want to watch them get their due justice! Hot Pie is our friend, we won't interfere but we demand justice for our friend!" Jeyne nodded. Sandor watched how calm his older brother was being, he knew the man was trying so hard to learn more patience. Gregor had actually started to see Raff for therapy. Sandor had been cutting the grass nearby the clinic one day and overheard his brother.

"Look, Jeyne is just a fucked up little kid but she has a point. I need to deal with Unella every fucking day for the rest of her life and if I kill her or she leaves because I say, ripped off her jaw in anger, I would be stuck taking care of a kid by myself! And the baby, how do I keep patience with one of those things? So all I want is for you to teach me patience, help me not to force feed a crying baby to a cunt of a wife. In exchange, I will continue to help you mentor Jeyne and let you claim the favor for any talents we dig out of her."

Sandor couldn't help himself, to see a tranquil, near serene Gregor recently has been driving him crazy. So he moved up the line of the tiny lynch mob so he could speak just behind him. "You know, if Hot Pie can't cook, he can't get all those disgusting and huge quantities of food for Unella. And if he doesn't have any of it already saved in the ktichen, it won't be you just getting up all night to go to the cafeteria to get her food. You'll be driving all the fuck way to the store and if they are closed, you'll have to keep driving. And you know what, the other day I saw Hot Pie with a bunch of baby food recipes, he was saying something about wanting to help provide meals for the baby."

Gregor's face darkened and he growled out, "I'm going to kill both of the boys but only a little bit. I can rip off just their arms and legs and Unella can play doll maker, see what parts can fit where." The others let up a drunken whooping cheer and Sandor bit back a laugh.

Joff's eyes widened as he saw the staff heading towards the dorm house with clear menace in their march. Arya got up and went to stand out of the way with Damon and Loras, all of them grinning with mean intent at Joff. "Looks like a proper lynch mob coming for you and Death Row. Bye, bye, Princess, nice knowing you!" Arya waved mockingly as Joff ran into the house, screaming for Ramsay.

Kevan had led Sansa to a small sitting room and sat with her on a little couch, holding her hand.

"Since your little sister has taken the worst of the Lannister males, the rest are the lot you may choose from. I can at least offer you your choice of Lannister men, all bachelors. Please, take your time and think over the options you have but before you leave here this evening, I need a Lannister name. Also, I must warn you, since you are over sixteen, legally you can marry. So though you will remain here as a student, you will be married as soon as possible in name only. You would not live as a wife with your new husband until you graduate here and I am satisfied that you are ready to leave."

Sansa's head was spinning and she wished she had anyone to speak with in this moment. She would have accepted her mother or Uncle Petyr but she wished mightily for Lancel, anyone to bounce her thoughts off of. But it was just her and she had little time as Kevan watched her wrestle with her thoughts. "It would be very discomforting to marry my own professor, so Tyrion is not an option. Jaime is far too close to Cersei and she doesn't like me in the least. That could be a big problem in the future." Kevan sat back and twirled his pen, watching Sansa, saying nothing.  

I could choose him, Kevan himself, how close I would be to everything then. I could kill him personally on our wedding night, present his damned head to Lancel! But Sansa was watching her mentor as she was thinking. There was something, a dark expectant excitement in his eyes, Kevan was waiting, baiting some trap and Sansa sensed it. No, he WANTS me to pick him but it's not for any reason that has to do with sex or the need to have a Stark.

A tingle soared up her spine and Sansa listened to all the voices in her head whispering to listen to those instincts. Sansa remembered Lancel warning her that his father loved to bait others. Loved to set up traps, nearly forcing others into misbehavior just so he can bring them down, it was a demented hobby nearly. Lancel's warning strong in her head, Sansa gave Kevan a lovely smile.

"I choose Lancel Lannister. I know I can trust that YOUR son would be a good man, a good husband to me." Kevan looked half pleased and half disappointed and Sansa felt his trap fall to pieces. "What an excellent choice, dear. I know my son is gay, but he has had girlfriends in the past and I am assured that he is able to fully function. If you wished for children in the future, my son will have no problems there."

Sansa blushed and looked at her hands. "I hope he doesn't resent me because of this forced marriage." Kevan patted her hands again. "Lancel is a very loyal, dutiful son. His only flaw is his heart is a tad too kind, sometimes I feel the boy is too generous to others. But I don't think you will find that a flaw, will you? I shall have to keep a close eye to make sure that you don't overtake my poor kindhearted Lancel."

Kevan spoke with a gentle amusement laced with a sharp warning that Sansa received clearly. But at that moment, Sansa was thinking of the sheer honor of sharing so closely with her leader as his wife! And she was also thinking of how badly Loras might react to this. Sansa doesn't care if Loras and Lancel bugger each other until the end of time. But Loras had visions of marrying Lancel and being his right hand man in every sense of the words.

"I will speak with my son and ask him to come here as soon as he can. I would prefer to have you already married when your mother comes calling. We both know she will and even though you and your sister have the option of not seeing her, she will be allowed to see your records. I will speak with her and show her proof of your marriage and Arya's engagement."

Sansa smiled and patted Kevan's hand this time. "I don't mind seeing my mother and brothers, Sir. I know you will keep us safe and it is the only chance I will get to say goodbye. I have a feeling it might be the last time I see any Stark that isn't Arya ever again." Kevan gave a small chuckle. "Ah, dear. So much fire to you, it is refreshing. You may head back to the dorm house, Sansa. I will see you tomorrow, hopefully with Lancel in tow. Would you like an escort back down the hill or just a late pass?"

"Just the pass, please. I like walking to help me calm and center myself." She was desperate to leave so she could find five minutes to grieve for her father. Another five minutes to rejoice in the marriage to her leader. Kevan stood up and wrote out a quick pass for Polliver and handed it to her.

"You know, dear, I am proud of you. Most girls in your position would have tried to leap a little too high. They would have flirted and tried to have me believe they wished to marry me or Tywin. Which is highly disturbing, considering our distinguished ages. I'm always a little put off by that, it is striving too hard, being too greedy. Perhaps, you are not as much like your mother as I thought. Have a good evening, Sansa. I again offer my condolences on your father's death. Please, say nothing to your sister, Joff or Theon. I would like to tell them myself."

Chapter Text

The mob burst through the door and then crashed into Ramsay and Joff's room. Only a naked Theon, clutching a blanket around himself was there, sitting on Ramsay's bed. He instantly spoke up, afraid they would rip him apart instead. "They left! Joff came yelling and Ramsay jumped up and left. Not even with any clothes." The mob glared at Theon and then Tyrion pointed and hollered, "Five detention periods for sleeping with the enemy! Come, gentlemen, let's find and murder the children!"

Turning, they all began to leave to search for the boys, but Myranda lingered for a moment. Long enough to see Theon nervously drop the blanket and reach for his clothing. Theon noticed and cursed, shoving his legs into his sweatpants. "What the fuck are you staring at? Go away!" Myranda shrugged, with a considering look in her eye. "If you keep that up, your flesh will be all red leather meat and no one wants to be with that but a serial killer. Is that your true aim? To spend your life fucking serial killers until one kills you?"

"Fuck you! Go away! My body and what I do with my life is not your problem." Myranda nodded as she turned away. "True. But it is your problem and it's a big one. If you want any help with it, come see me." Theon sneered. "Gee, thanks, Whore! Now fuck off." Flipping Theon the finger over her shoulder, Myranda went to join the search. She was almost run over by Stannis twice and then managed to latch onto to Jeyne. A cry of triumph was heard then a roar of frustration. "Get the ladder! They are on the damned roof!"

Sansa walked slowly past the clinic and wondered why the lights were all on this late? The blinds were down in the surgery room window but light blazed from the tiny cracks. Sighing, Sansa wondered if someone got the hell beat out of them by Ramsay or Joff again. Ramsay has Joff all revved up and the boy was too stupid to see that Ramsay was using him like a fucking sock puppet. She walked into the house just to see everyone yelling and storming out the back door. As she cautiously walked further in, Theon came flying past her to head out the back in his sweatpants and Ramsay's t shirt, his bare feet slapping hard onto the wood.

Idly, Sansa wondered how Theon will feel when told that his father is dead. He probably won't care much. Except we all pay a cost for our father's follies, my sister and I are thrown onto the sacrificial marriage alter. Sansa wonders what price Theon might have to pay. Wincing at thudding from above and screaming outside, she figured out that Ramsay and Joff were hiding on the roof. That the entire staff was attempting to reach them and murder them. Sansa yawned and gave a quick peek into Loras's room, past the half open door. His copy of Lord Byron's best poems was half out of the extremely neat bookcase collection.

Sansa wandered away towards the front door and slipped outside. She walked the lit pathways towards the gardens, staying well within bounds even for after curfew. Walking among the apple trees, Sansa quickly entered a small garden shed that hasn't been used in years. Going to the shelving units in the back, she shoved them out of the way and opened the small panel. With a quick breath, hating this part the most, Sansa started down the ladder into a bunker. It was made and forgotten about so long ago but Lancel had made great use of it when he was at the school. As did others students before him.

She hoped that this will be the last time students ever need to have such a space. Because she will win the war that others have lost. Carefully, Sansa made her way down the ladder and firmly put her feet on poured cement. A dimly lit room full of shelving units with dusty old cans of items that she has never even heard of. Loras was already down there, holding on to one of their cell phones. Trying for an airy tone, Sansa spoke as Loras just stared at the phone in his hand. She walked towards him, trying not to choke on the dusty air.

"When you ask Ramsay for distractions, boy, does he provide. He is naked on the roof with Joff. What the hell happened while I was gone? And I swear, I will never understand why Lancel thought we needed a mad dog like him anyway." Loras didn't look up but responded in a calm, emotionless voice. "Ramsay is a mad dog but he does his job. He can take the pain, he hates them all enough, he doesn't mind taking the crowd's eye away so we can do the important work. He fucked up big this time, though. They nearly killed Hot Pie. I mean, it got the whole staff after them, true, but that's a target with a heavy price tag."

Sansa gave a small gasp. "That was amazingly fucking stupid of him. They might crucify him, someone might really kill him over that." Loras shook his head as he stood up and put the small cell phone back in it's hidden spot in an old empty can. "Oh, he is going to hurt bad for it, but they won't actually kill him. Kevan wouldn't allow that, Lannisters and Boltons don't die here at Sugar Sun. So I spoke with Lancel while Ramsay was leading the mob around. I hear congratulations are in order for you and condolences for your little sister. She certainly got the shit end of that deal, huh?"

Loras was on her before Sansa could respond, his hands tightening around her throat, snarling, tears running down his face. "I hate you! How fucking dare you steal him? He is mine, loves me not you! Even if you marry him, that won't change! I will kill you before I let you try and take him, you manipulative cunt!" Digging her nails into his hands didn't help, Sansa kicked hard into Loras's groin. With a moan, Loras let go of her and grabbed his crotch instead. "You viperous bitch!" Sansa coughed and slid down to sit on the cot near the shelves. 

While Sansa tried to regain oxygen, Loras sat down next to her, still sobbing, but a bit calmer now. "I wasn't given a choice to say no, Loras. It was marry Lancel or Tyrion or Jaime. Two men old enough to be my father. Whom I lost by the way, which is why I have to marry against my will. Thanks for your condolences on my loss. You haven't lost Lancel to me, I know you love each other. It is a political marriage only."

Loras sniffed. "I'm sorry you lost your father but he was lost to your mother years ago. You, me, Lancel, we are the new generations that shouldn't have to pay for the old. But here we are, right? I know you don't love him like I do, that's why you shouldn't marry him, I should. The very second that they are all dead, Lancel will divorce you and marry me. He promised." Nodding, Sansa hugged the despondent boy and wished she could bash his foolish fucking head in. She thought about Arya and how she will take having to marry Joff. Sansa sighed, her little sister was going to need her guidance.

Gilly had finished her lovely dinner, the food was delicious, bringing tears into her eyes with every bite. Her mood was lightened by the food as she went about cleaning. She was working later than usual, cleaning the dining room, the upstairs tea room, plus her own meal in the kitchen. Tired, Gilly started to head up towards her room. She almost made it to her bedroom before she heard them. Spinning around, Gilly looked at Harold and Bob, close enough to touch. "Yes, Sirs? I am about to retire for the evening. Is there something I can get you before I am done for the night?"

With their identical shining smiles, they each extended a hand to clamp around her upper arms. The grips were firm, not painful but with the lingering promise of pain. Gilly shivered as her skin raised goose bumps that tried to bump the terrible touch away. Harold spoke, his voice pleasant but warm in a loathsome, playful poisonous way. "I'm sorry, dear. You have been asked to go above and beyond your job today. I ask that you bear with us just a few moments longer, Gilly. Will you please come with us?" Nodding, Gilly walked between them down the hall towards their own suite.

Beginning to get nervous, Gilly spoke before they entered the terror twins rooms. She only goes in there to clean and never when they are in their rooms. "Please, did I do something wrong or to offend you, Sirs? It is not usual for you to ask me to enter your rooms." Bob's hand on her back pushed her gently into their domain and Harold shut and locked the door behind them.

Kevan frowned at his cell phone. He has texted all of the staff and none have responded. Where the hell are they all? Must he walk down himself to retrieve Arya and Theon? More importantly, what could be happening that the entire staff is too busy to respond to their director? Briefly, Kevan thought to send Harold or Bob to see what might be going on down the hill. Using his binoculars, Kevan looked out the window just as the breeze brought him the sounds of a lynch mob. His eyes widened to see Ramsay Bolton in his naked glory, dancing a jig on the roof. Joff was also up there, screaming and shaking his fists.

Putting the binoculars down carefully, Kevan straightened his jacket and marched down the hill. 

Ramsay screamed for them to all go fuck themselves when Joff went down like a sack of potatoes. Ramsay looked at the small needle sticking out of the blond idiot then at Sandor aiming again. "Oh shit!" He dropped just as Sandor took the shot and it missed him. "Guess this is over. Hope the assholes got done what needed to be done then." He stretched out and waited, this time he didn't bother to try and use his lighter and Sansa's hairspray to keep them from coming up the ladders. Grinning up at the moon, Ramsay wondered if his father ever felt such reckless excitement over chaos here as a student.

He heard Kevan's voice from below and started to laugh. It will probably be the circle now instead of a staff beat down. Ramsay wasn't thrilled about that part. But hearing the whole staff getting reamed out for being drunk and losing control of their students was enough to keep him laughing. He kept up the hyena laugh until Gregor showed up and growled out, "Was it fun for you? Good, I'm glad you are having such a wonderful time. If you think all of this is funny, you'll find the next part of it fucking hysterical." 

Ramsay did not find being shot point blank with a sedative gun fun in the least.

Harold and Bob began to circle Gilly, who was instantly reminded of sharks circling their prey. Raising her chin, Gilly refused to turn her head, body or even eyes to watch her stalkers. "Please, it is very late, Sirs. May I ask what I have done or need to do?" She forced herself to breathe normally and calmly, put her hands behind her back, clasped together. Her legs were slightly apart, she looked like a solider at ease and as always, Harold and Bob were so fucking curious. They could not seem to ever catch Gilly off her guard. They never managed to rattle or scare her and that was just too unique to leave alone.

Kevan had laughed at them when they told him of this. "The girl is loyal and a good girl, does her job, I have no worries. Of course, Sansa keeps flitting around her, hoping for tidbits, I suppose to check in with Gilly on this is an idea. Only when it's deemed truly needed and do not harm my Gillyflower. She is a rare treasure. A truly loyal servant that doesn't spook or snoop. You can check to make sure that never changes, but I will be extremely put out if your overeager actions cause Gilly to ever doubt her place and safety here." 

So Harold and Bob were careful, they played, they taunted but never caused Gilly a single bruise or scratch. They hoped, prayed for a chance to finally have cause to question her, feel her out. Finally, the glorious day has come. With Sansa in her company alone for that long was enough reason for a light interview but there was even more cause. Bob had checked the logs earlier and saw that a call had been placed to Gilly's sister's at the Lannister estate. Perfect, finally a good reason to get Gilly in their nest to play.

Kevan had sighed instead of laughed when they gleefully informed him of the unusual phone call while Gilly was with Sansa.

"I highly doubt it was anything but innocent. Chances are that Sansa talked the girl into it. Go ahead, have your fun but I warn you! I truly like this girl and if you find out she is innocent of any wrongdoing, you leave her be. It disturbs me, you know. How excited you two get and I am slightly suspect that every single servant I have here ends up dead by you two for treason or suspicion of some sort. Gilly will not be the next one in your game of torture and kill! Did what happened with Myranda over stir your blood? Go out and find yourselves someone else who has a servant to murder, will you? Just question Gilly and then leave her alone if there is nothing wrong. If something is wrong, I expect to be contacted instantly."

Bob came up behind Gilly, stroking her braid while Harold stopped in front of her, his shark smile looking ready to eat a small fish.

"Every single drunk person here will expect Hot Pie's medical expenses to come from their accounts. Until Hot Pie is recovered enough for his duties, I shall leave it upon your shoulders to figure out meals for staff and students. At your own expense, of course. This is inexcusable, gentlemen. I put a lock down on the school which means you are to remain alert and protect the students. You have utterly failed that, haven't you? Good thing, we weren't attacked."

Kevan glared at the shamefaced men, only Sandor and Gregor were giving him eye contact.

"Polliver, you failed miserably at protecting Hot Pie and you managed to lose complete control two of your ducklings. You will find ways to make this terrible error up to Hot Pie and you will most certainly make it up to me. You can expect to pick an account to cancel until further notice. I will however, allow you to be the one to discipline Ramsay for his attack upon Hot Pie. As for Joff, Tyrion, you shall discipline your nephew. I expect both boys to be seen by Unella right after. No broken bones, no missing pieces, please. Things are tense with families right now, let's not give them anything to complain about."

Chapter Text

Harold and Bob were on their small couch made of a specific type of leather that disconcerted everyone who sat on it. Not Gilly. She sat between them and never even flinched. They reasoned it might be because she has had time during her hours of cleaning here to get used to it. She didn't try to feel the couch or look at the leather as most did.

Even Myranda had freaked when she first discovered she was sitting on a couch of human skin. Gilly didn't seem to notice or care about the leather, the couch or for any threats either. She wasn't a stupid woman, no, Gilly can follow any instructions she is given with ease. Was she that obtuse or was Craster that horrific that Harold and Bob simply can't be scary to her?

They were shaken after twenty minutes of sitting with her. The very moment they sat down, every technique they could apply with simple body movement and touch was employed. Nothing. Gilly never twitched, cowered, cried, flinched, she was a block of wood. She could have been a mannequin that they were playing with. The second that they began to ask about her visit with Sansa, was the beginning of the end.

Gilly opened her mouth and told them every second of the visit in excruciating detail. Every. Single. Detail. In a monotone voice, Gilly told them how many cookies were eaten, every detail that was discussed even of the small talk. She told them how many times Sansa paced, sat down or drank her tea. Gilly told them how many actions each of them made in a near hypnotic factual testimonial.

The only time that Gilly became animated was when she discussed her sisters. She had explained that Sansa pulled a joke by calling her sisters. "I admit it is entirely my fault for allowing her to touch my phone, Sirs. I am prepared for any punishment deserved for such a thing, of course. But she had already called, Kevan had never forbid me from calling. So I spoke with my sisters."

With a tiny smile growing on her face and slightest softening of her tone, Gilly told them every detail of the phone call. She told them of everything said, on her end and her sisters. Which meant Harold sat there, leaning back now, just staring at Gilly as she continued on at great length about adventures of invisible toads.

Bob had also stopped trying to discomfort Gilly, he was soothing himself by running his hands over the lovely sensation of servant leather. By the time Gilly had told everything, both men were defeated this time and knew it. Harold had one last question, one last try for this dreadful evening.

"You said your sisters wanted you to live with them. That Lancel might ask Kevan if you can go and you told them no rather vigorously. I understand that Kevan is a wonderful employer. But you could have gone to luxury. To be with your beloved sisters, reunited forever. Why did you wish to stay here, in this house, locked on these grounds instead?"

"I spent my nightmare of a life with my sisters, every day, every night, watching the horrors done to them, done to me. I don't want to live with them and see that instead of their happy new faces. Even at home, I was always trying to be left alone. I have that here, a good safe place that lets me have my simple comforts, an orderly quiet life. Maybe that will change one day, but I don't think so. And Kevan is who saved me, he has saved my sisters before his son helped them. My loyalty is to Kevan, I have no urge to leave his service. It would be nice to talk to my sisters on the phone or maybe a visit someday, but that is all. And only if Kevan allowed it."

Gilly gave them an inquiring look. "Shall I prepare myself for a punishment over letting a student touch my phone?" Bob and Harold tilted their heads slightly. In a pleasant voice, Harold asked, "How would you prepare yourself for a punishment?"

Shrugging, Gilly let out a loud sigh then said in a heavy but still far too calm voice, "Well, I have dusted your closest, Sirs. I would rather not stain my clothing with rare oils and blood if possible. Whether its the toy closet, the oils closet or the weapons closet, it's bound to be destructive to my uniform and it pleases Kevan that my appearance is perfect. Also, since I must clean the closet rugs, I would beg you to put the plastic sheeting down. I am assuming I will be injured and it will be harder for me to clean any stains from the carpet or woodwork."

With a sudden lurch both twins left the couch and Harold threw his hands up in the air.

"Thank you so very much for all your detailed help. Thank you for your flawless service and loyalty to Kevan. You are dismissed from this room! I hope you have a wonderful evening full of rainbows and lollipops and dancing fairies! Because you, my dear, have become our unicorn! The fabled perfect servant and there is no punishment for letting someone like Sansa play a trick on you. I wish you would let us play a trick on you. Would you? Would you let us play any games at all with you, Gilly? Truth or dare, do you like that game?"

Gilly finally became concerned and she asked in a very careful tone, "Harold, are you quite alright? You are sweating and seem very upset. Are you feeling well? Shall I get Unella or Raff for you, Sir? Would you like some ice water or some soothing tea?" Bob suddenly grabbed Harold, who had started to shake then nearly tip toe towards Gilly.

When Bob held onto him, Harold looked at him and whispered in a hoarse voice, "She offered me tea. To soothe me. Tea to soothe me, Bob." Bob gave a strained smile to Gilly. "We are done here. No further discussions or games needed. Good night, dear girl and thank you again for your assistance today." Gilly nodded and bid them both a very polite goodnight. As she left, shutting the door behind her, Gilly released the kill shot.

"Thank you for taking the time to speak with me tonight, I really needed to get all that off my chest. It's nice to know that you are both available to talk if I need it. Harold, I hope you feel better, Sir. I'll bring you a special blend of tea tomorrow morning with your breakfast. It's excellent for high strung nerves."

Gilly heard Harold slam hard against the door as she closed it and wondered if Bob would manage to lock the door in time. Regardless, her back was straight, her steps calm and measured as she headed for her room without a look backwards.

Jeyne and Myranda cheered as the punishments commenced along with Loras, Sansa and Damon. Not a shred of sympathy was had. Joff had been dumped in the center of the circle and woken by a bucket of ice water. As soon as Joff roused, Tyrion began to slap him until Joff's face was red and he was sniveling.

"I have had it with you, nephew! You do not want to learn, you do not want to improve yourself, you want to cause chaos, blood, death and destruction! That boy never did anything to you! That cook is worth twenty of you and is more important than you ever have been. He at least has a talent, a goal and a brain rattling around in his head!"

Joff tried to defend himself, his own pedigree, but Tyrion was not listening to anything Joff had to say. "If you wish to continue to act like a spoiled little brat, like a little boy following a bully around to help him pull wings off flies, then I shall treat you like one."

With Stannis's extreme eager to help attitude, it didn't take them long to pull Joff's pants down to show his white buttocks to all. Tyrion sat on a stool and Stannis held the boy down so he was ass up over his uncle's lap. Gregor offered Tyrion the chose of several tools for spanking that made the students all shudder a little. Tyrion chose a large wooden paddle with holes driven into it for maximum impact. He might be small, but Tyrion's anger was large and he wielded the wood without mercy until his arm and body gave out.

Stannis was a good friend and had no problem grabbing the paddle and continuing the blows for his fellow professor. Joff screamed and kicked while Stannis grimly took out all his upsets upon the purple swollen buttocks. Tyrion didn't call a halt to the savage paddling until he saw the very first hint of blood beading on the bruised skin. As Joff was thrown to the dirt, Tyrion stood up and stared down without any mercy at his nephew.

"Now, since you love to make others feel bullied, made to feel bad about themselves, let's have you try it out! Princess is what Polliver calls you and it's true. You act like a fucking little princess and as luck would have it, guess what we found in our old drama closet!"

Joff screamed in outrage at the sight of the flouncy, glittery princess dress that hung like a bell all the way to the ground. Stannis waved the twinkling dainty tiara and fake pearl necklace at him. It took Gregor mere moments to rip Joff's clothing off and stuff him inside the many layers of dress. He held the boy still while Stannis put the tiara and necklace on him. Tyrion smiled as the students all cracked up and Joff's face became a picture of humiliation.

"Now, you will wear this anytime you are not asleep or told to remove it by a staff member. For two weeks. And if you take if off, I'm going to paddle your ass again wherever you are. I will leave instructions that any staff seeing you removing this dress can start the bare ass spanking until I get there."

"Wake up, sweet little duckling. Come back to me, precious. Ah, there you are, Ramsay! Hello there, Death Row, go on, wake up, take a second. Here, have a little water, I'll hold your head up for you." Ramsay wanted badly to spit the water into Polliver's face but his mouth and throat were way too dry. Plus, it wasn't real water, it was a sponge in his mouth, moistening it.

Polliver's hand gently made sure that Ramsay's head and neck were supported back down to the hospital bed. No, that wasn't right either. Frowning, Ramsay looked around and saw it was the surgery room. Trying to move, Ramsay started to panic, seeing he was restrained with tubes running out of his arm. He screamed when he couldn't move any of his limbs but he wasn't restrained. Polliver came over and gave him a kind smile and stroked Ramsay's hair.

"Don't panic, hush, little duckling, the fun hasn't even started yet. We aren't even at the punishment part yet. Now listen, you have been given a paralytic. You can feel everything but you can't move. It's for your safety, bumpkin. Raff has been kind enough to offer his services while I delivered a lesson to you. This surgery room is where you made Hot Pie have to go. So I only figure it's fair that if he has to have a little surgery visit, then so should you. Don't worry, I am not a medical professional, but Raff is. He can guide me along!"

Ramsay felt his first spark of true fear at a punishment and started to growl. Polliver's fist crashed into Ramsay's face then he yanked the boy's head up until their noses touched.

"Your father let his favorite son die rather than deal with his family issues. Your father allowed his daughter to become feral then dumped her here to rot forever. Your father let Damon become a special needs joke and he let you become a rabid bitch then he dumped both of you here. Your father isn't going to stop anything. He isn't going to avenge you, save you or give a shit as long as you never can embarrass him again. Get that through your head. Or are you starting to buy your own line of bullshit that you sell Princess? Huh? Do you feel entitled because of your name? Didn't I tell you that didn't matter in here? Do you think if you cause enough destruction here that Daddy will come get you? Or that Kevan will give in and let you leave? Oh, sweet wayward duckling, that isn't how it works."

Letting Ramsay choke a little on his own blood and ire, Polliver explained patiently. "I am becoming concerned about your health, boy. All these recent outbursts might not just be mental. It might be a physical cause and Unella is very busy caring for your victim. MY BOY. So, I am going to help out and perform some small procedures to check on your internal health. Now, what were the names of the tests again, Raff?" With a sweet smile, Raff sang out, "Colonoscopy, Endoscopy and as long as you are not moving, as long as your body is relaxed, pain medication isn't required."

Polliver smiled.

"Don't worry, I use lots of lube when I stuff my bitches. And after this, Raff promised to show me how to see all your different parts light up! It's a dye that burns the fuck out of you but let's us have a little Inside of Ramsay show! I really need you to understand, boy. I need you to understand that there is no fucking end to what we can do to you here. If you ever touch Hot Pie again, I am going to make this seem like a hand job and soft words. I hate it when people fuck with MY things, it's fucking rude. And Hot Pie, he is MINE, do you understand that, Death Row? Am I getting through to you yet? Don't worry, it's alright. I'll be going right through you in just a second."

Hot Pie dreamed that Ramsay was being roasted on a spitfire, screaming, squealing like a stuck pig. Ramsay screamed then gurgled, choking on his own pain and screams as the cook shoved an apple deep into his mouth, halfway down his throat. With a slight smile, Hot Pie slept a healing sleep.

Kevan decided since it was so late, to just bring both children into his office together. Theon and Arya had looked worried when Kevan asked them to follow him up to the house. His most reassuring smile only increased their nervousness and they were sitting on the chairs as if sitting on lit dynamite. He was careful to sit on his desk just before them, his face sympathetic, ready with a hanky for the girl and soothing words for the boy. The hanky wasn't needed as both children simply sat there, pale and numb.

Kevan apologized for their losses and told them the rest of it all. Then he just held the hanky in his hand as he stared blankly at the two children. "Could you two please repeat what you've each just said? I am afraid if you both talk at the same time I cannot understand you. One at a time, repeat what you've each said."

"If you let my Uncle Euron have me, I 'm going to kill myself and I'll do it while I am still on your property." "No. I won't marry Joff and I won't even pretend to be engaged to him. I'd rather let my mother try and kidnap or kill me."

Twirling the pen between his knuckles as the hanky fell gracefully to the floor, Kevan nodded, smiling. "That's what I thought you both had said."  

Chapter Text

Bob had been patting Harold's back as the poor man was trying to calm himself down. Harold was despondent, he was shook to his core and Bob wasn't doing much better. They have never suffered such a failure before, never have they had any servant simply not spook. Even the most faithful of servants would snap under the fear and therefore allow the twins to find a way or reason to kill them.

"I already ordered the ottoman. I was sure, so sure that we would have her skin." Harold had muttered into his hands.

Bob sighed and reassured in a soft voice, "We already stretched and cured that last cook and the guy we found near Craster's hotel. It will be plenty of skin for the ottoman. This is something I have never said before, but I will say it. We need to not murder this one. Kevan likes her and she truly is loyal. We have searched her room countless times, spied on her until our eyes bled! I don't know about you but I cannot stomach further interrogations with Gilly. We have lost on this one and all it would lead to is angering Kevan. We simply must find other targets."

Harold looked up, despair lining his face and asked in a small voice, "Maybe we just lost our mojo? Are we sure it's her and not us? Myranda did dare to kill a man in front of us. Maybe we have gone soft and not seen it?" Bob scoffed and stood up, giving Harold an insulted look.

"That wasn't very nice and I'll have you know, I have not lost my mojo! That Gilly isn't a person! I don't know what she is, but she isn't normal. Sansa was nearly climbing the wall to keep from touching you! And you know damned well that Myranda only killed Craster because we pushed her too hard. Myranda is fearful and respectful, she would obey any order we gave her! There isn't anyone in this entire place besides Kevan and the Gilly that doesn't quiver in fear from us!"

Tossing himself across the couch to lay flat and stare at the ceiling, Harold mused. "We haven't seen our sweet girl in some time, a few weeks now. We should do more than just read the dry weekly reports from staff. We should personally check in with Myranda. She might be missing us, a whole month off is maybe too much independence." Bob smiled. "Well, Unella did say that Myranda had healed quite well. We should brush up on her training before she does have any clients, she might have gotten rusty."

A sweet smile grew on Harold's face and his voice was lighter, making Bob feel better as well. "Our lovely girl would never treat us like the Gilly has. No one else would. And the way things are going down the hill, a rare chance for student skin might appear! It's been so long since that has happened, since we got to kill a student. But the way that Bolton boy is going, I think we might get to keep that one. What a skin that would be! I would rather have high class killer skin on my furniture than that of some low class servant that cannot properly respond! Finally to have a skin that matches our best work!"

Bob nodded and spread his arms. "I heartily agree! I personally don't think I would wish to sit on Gilly skin, too rough and unyielding! So let her enjoy cooking, cleaning and keeping the household happy. Besides, Gilly is truly the only servant that has ever cleaned our rooms so properly. All the other servants were too nervous to give the correct attention to details. Perhaps having a servant that isn't born with trembling hands and doesn't flinch from good service is just unique, we can and should adjust to it. Why shouldn't we allow ourselves the luxury of having someone to see to our items properly?"

Harold sat up and took a deep breath, feeling much better. A buzzing sound from both their cell phones brought a delightful gasp to Harold's lips. "Kevan needs help with two students!"  The text from Kevan was like manna from heaven. Harold ran so fast with such eagerness that Bob swore the man's feet never touched the stairs.  

Kevan looked levelly at the two scared, rebellious teenagers and gave them a very stern frown. "Well, that was not what I was hoping to hear from either of you. But what's said is said, correct? And must be responded to."

He twirled his pen then smirked when the door burst open and his men entered. Theon and Arya jumped and ran to the other side of the room from Harold and Bob. Kevan smiled at Harold and Bob, wondering why they seemed so energized. "I am afraid that our young Theon is feeling suicidal. He is afraid of his uncle, it has spurred a panicked reaction perhaps, but just in case, he may need a twenty four hour watch. Please take care of him for me, will you? Don't worry, Theon, my men can keep you quite safe until Unella and Raff have time to asses you. Take him."  

Theon screamed and tried to bolt as the smiling men came for him. Arya watched in horror as they simply lifted him between them and ran out the door, slamming it behind them. Kevan blinked and stared for a moment, before he collected himself.

Walking around the room, fiddling with his pen, Kevan watched with amusement as Arya kept out of reach. "I am sorry that seemed so abrupt and traumatic, young lady. As the director of a school, I must take all suicide threats very seriously. Do not worry, Theon will be fine." Arya let out a quick bitter laugh. "Fine? No one here is fine. Are you going to sell him to his molesting uncle? It's clear that is what Theon is so scared of!"

Kevan raised an eyebrow. "How concerned you are for him. I have no intention of letting Theon's uncle near him. It's not even an option. However, the boy gave me no time to tell him that before he issued his threat. Panic and rash decisions made him say such a thing, I am sure. Tell me, do you think it was rash thinking that made you say no to a wedding with Joff?" Arya shook her head and kept her eyes on that damned golden pen, trying hard to keep heading towards the door. Somehow, Kevan always managed to be in her way.

"No. I meant it. I won't marry that monster." Kevan gave her a sad sympathetic face. "I know it's distasteful, he isn't a very good person. I hope to change that by the time he is eighteen. But your sister will be marrying my son Lancel tomorrow in a very fast ceremony. And you will be signing an engagement contract. If you are truly against Joff, there is always Tyrion or his brother Jaime?" Arya's face screwed up into a mask of disgust. "Two men old enough to be my father or a sadistic monster. How do you sleep at night, Sir?" 

Kevan watched as Arya saw her opening and ran for the door. With a small airy movement of his hand, with no more than a gentle smile upon his face, he threw the pen. She yelped as she saw the sharp blade pin her hand to the door. "You are very lucky, dear. I have several of these pens, I just adore them and some of them are poison tipped. Lucky for you, this one isn't. I am sorry you are in some discomfort but I am tired of chasing children around tonight. This way at least I am assured you are in one place and listening."  

A smile and in an almost playful tone, Kevan spoke as he adjusted the sleeves on his suit. "When I was young, I was a dart champion. I was also excellent at archery. You are lucky I am so good at it. If you squirm too much, you might cause permanent damage to your hand. I caught it perfectly, if you are still and it's pulled out correctly, you'll have no problem using your hand again."

With slow calm precision, Kevan walked over to the squirming girl and stared down at her. Hands behind his back, Kevan leaned forward slightly as Arya pressed her back into the door, her hand pinned firmly. "You keep thinking you have choices that you don't. I wasn't asking you to marry Joff, dear, I was ordering it. I was being very kind by offering my nephews instead. Rude objections and attempting to run away are not acceptable responses." Arya stared with defiance, even as her eyes blurred with tears and there was hitch in her voice from pain.

"I won't do it. I will starve myself, I will run away, I will attempt to kill Joff if I have to. I am not Sansa, I am not like my family. I won't suffer over their stupid wars!"

Kevan smiled and pulled out his phone. "Oh, such dramatic passion! You really should see Tyrion about one of his random plays, both Stark girls as his lead ladies. Sansa can sing and you can pull the dramatic lines. Wonderful. Now, you are going to be engaged to Joff, you are going to see that contract done tonight. Excuse me for one moment, Arya." He spoke into his phone with a smile to the pale girl stuck to his door.

"Hello, Sandor? Would you and Sansa please come to my office? The poor girl is probably asleep, she can just wear her bathrobe, no need to stand on ceremony this late at night. Oh, knock and then open the door to my office extremely carefully. Yes. Very carefully, you see, Arya is skewered to my door and we don't wish to injure her hand. No, no need to bring the nurse or doctor. They can tend to her later."

Arya waited until Kevan hung up the call then got her practiced words out of her head. "My mother is the scariest person I know. If I can survive her raising me, I can take any torture you want to dish out. But don't you dare hurt Sansa because I said no! It's not fair, she behaves, she will do what you want her to." Kevan sighed and gave Arya a look of disapproval. His voice became stiff and formal.

"My dear young lady, I am insulted that you assume I would injure your sister in order in gain your compliance. It also shows how young and ignorant you are. To think you are valued high enough for me to risk hurting Sansa over. I also have no intention of torturing you, there is no need for such things, little girl." 

There are many rooms to Kevan's house and many levels that would take anyone quite some time to find. Theon found himself in a padded, white cube of a room with the two most terrifying men in the entire school. They dragged him inside then released him but didn't leave. No, they shut and locked themselves in and began to stalk him. Theon was sobbing, his body hunched, scrambling to stay out of their reach. "Please! I'm sorry! I don't feel like dying anymore, please, stop, don't touch me!"

With a brilliant smile that went all way up to his mirrored glasses, Harold purred, "When a student is put on suicide watch, we must take their clothing and possessions. We can't risk you hurting yourself with your clothing, young man. Just stay still and be a good boy while we help you strip." Theon shook his head frantically, nearly pirouetting to keep them at bay. "I will do it myself then! I can take off my clothes and hand them to you, okay?"

Bob giggled in a high pitched voice and playfully responded, "Silly boy. We must assist you, you might try and hurt yourself with your clothing before we could stop you. Mustn't be so shoddy in our care that we would allow you to injure yourself." Theon hyperventilated and he knew they were playing with him. He was terrified for the pounce that was coming. When it came, he screamed and thrashed but it did him no good.

Once his clothing was in a pitiful heap near the door, the men released Theon once more. They were moving back to survey what they've found and it held them breathless for a moment. Theon shook and whimpered, holding his hands over his groin, backing away from the twin steel gazes. Bob's voice was soft and like a lullaby.

"Poor lad, what have you done to all that lovely skin? How did the staff not notice all this self mutilation? Do you know, our sweet Myranda used to self cut and we helped her end that. It's a horrid habit and we simply cannot abide such a thing. It took us longer to fix her skin then it did to fix her cutting herself. Don't despair, needy boy, Harold and Bob will help you. Myranda won't mind sharing her mentors with another student."

Theon burst into tears and flushed red. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. Is that why Myranda wanted to help me? She saw me, she offered to help me if I wanted her to but I told her to fuck off. I thought maybe she was playing a joke or going to try and bribe me or something." Harold and Bob both smiled so happily that Theon started to pant again.

"Calm down, young man. We do not believe you wish to kill yourself, just hurt yourself. That is a much better cure than the suicide watch. Now, did you invoke the name of our sweet Myranda? We have missed her all these weeks. Did you say she saw your injuries and offered to help you?"

He nodded and Harold grinned at Bob. "Myranda didn't tell any staff about Theon's dangerous habit. We should ask her why. It's late, she is probably asleep. We could be kind and wait until tomorrow?" Fumbling in his haste, Bob took out his phone and texted Polliver to bring Myranda to the house. Harold gave Theon a kind smile and the two of them began to corner the boy.

"We are having Myranda come for a visit. Do not look so scared, sweet tender boy, we won't bite you. This room is for those who wish to die. That isn't you, let us bring you to a room for those who wish to hurt."  

Ramsay sat in the wheelchair, clutching hard as he could at the armrests. He could still barely move his legs and his fingers were too numb to undo the waist strap that held him place. Polliver had a fine time dumping Ramsay into the wheelchair and heading back to the dorm. He allowed the chair to fly down the hill without him, calling out, "Whoops, sorry! Don't worry, I'm on my way!" Just before the chair would crash into a tree or topple, Polliver would grab the handles. 

Polliver stopped playing around, yawning and then stopped rolling Ramsay to stare at Sandor and Sansa heading towards him. "Out with Oscar for a moonlit stroll?" Sandor shook his head and growled out, "Kevan called us to the house. Arya is skewered to the door." Chuckling, Polliver started past them. "Damn, mentoring isn't all that easy, is it?" Sandor told Polliver to fuck off and stomped past him, Sansa's robe fluttered in the breeze, her hair messy around her worried face. 

Ramsay and Sansa looked at each other but nothing was said.

Myranda had just fallen asleep when a baton tapped upon her door. "Wake up, sweetums! Harold and Bob just rang the whore bell."

Chapter Text

Polliver was half asleep and getting cranky as he led Myranda up towards Kevan's house. "I hope to hell they take you back on their own, I am dead fucking tired. I would love to inform those creepy motherfuckers that I am not a pimp. If they want their whore, they can damned well get their pussy themselves." Myranda was nervous as she saw the house with several lit windows looming ahead. "It's really late for so much light on there."

Nodding, Polliver muttered as he shoved her forward, her nightgown flying around her.

"Yup, Kevan is pulling some serious overtime tonight. He has Target skewered to his door, Sandor and Oscar were summoned while I was wheeling Death Row back to his room." Myranda winced. "Skewered? Damn, she tried to outrun the pen, didn't she? Or was she dumb enough to try and hit Kevan?" "Don't know, don't care. What did you do that I am being forced to drag you in your nightie to see Mr and Mr Sunglasses?"

Shrugging, she nervously started up the porch steps. "I really don't know. I mean, none of you said anything to them about my tiff with the boys. I haven't done anything bad since then. Maybe they decided I need a little refresher course on a night of insomnia or something? I can hope, at least. Did they say where in the house I am meeting them?" Polliver grinned. "Yup. They said for you to just head inside and go their suite."

 Myranda took a deep breath and entered the house. She could hear voices in Kevan's study but didn't pause to investigate. Her steps were slow but steady, chin up and soul screaming curses her mouth cannot utter. It was good to have the time off and she resented it ending. But more than that was her steady fear and resentful anger building within her. If Harold or Bob saw that in her face or if Myranda snapped again, daring to be so bold faced disrespectful?

This last punishment has healed but as she moves towards the door to their suite it comes back in terrible detail. Myranda knows that her mentors are capable of so much worse and she has no urge to feel it. She reminds herself how to act, coaches herself the way they coached her and knocks upon the door. Plastering a smile on her face, Myranda tried to pull her sassy, clever whore personality around her like the hardened armor it has always been.

Harold threw the door open and instantly Myranda felt her armor cracking around her. He was giving the most loving affectionate smile, as if he truly missed her. A shriek resounded through her head as he enveloped her in hug. Myranda put her arms tight against her chest, but pressed her head into his chest, a submissive gesture. This was dangerous, he was extra dangerous and Myranda didn't know why. She couldn't understand what she has done to make Harold so excited. Somehow it was worse to know that the twins actually did miss her and have affection for their charge.

"Sweet girl! We have missed you so much, it's been far too long. Please, come in, Myranda, come in! My dear, I am so sorry to be so rude as to drag you out of your beauty sleep! But honey, I have missed seeing you and we are concerned for you. Concerned that you might be needing our guidance even if you weren't quite ready to return to work. Which I know you are yearning to do, to show us that our discipline and love has given you greater incentive to prove your worth to us."

Harold shut the door with one hand and spun Myranda with the other. Bob caught her in another smothering hug before he smiled down at her, too wide, too hungry. "Sweet dearest girl, it has been far too long since we've seen you. We are at fault for that. I promise for now on we shall keep a better eye upon our lovely Myranda. A student needs their mentors to be an active part of their lives, else they might stray or forget lessons. Like making sure not to keep secrets that aren't their own to keep."

Bob moved so that he and Harold were on either side of Myranda, just a bit in front of her so they could see her reaction. Myranda turned pale upon seeing Theon. He was naked, shuddering, curled on the leather couch. Any skin not covered in self mutilation was goose flesh and Theon seemed to try and leave the couch without actually doing so. With a sniff, Theon spoke in a very tiny voice.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to get you into trouble. I just mentioned that you saw my cuts and offered to help. Arya just freaked out before agreeing to shut up, you offered to actually help and now you are in trouble." Harold and Bob shared a glance then Bob made a quick text to Kevan.

Myranda swallowed hard and tried to not panic. Harold tilted his head and took one step towards Myranda, his voice soft and loving. "I thought during our last session together we discussed keeping anymore secrets from staff? Sweet girl, did we fail you again, leaving you alone to become wayward?"

Myranda lost her sassy whore, her shields shattered into a million pieces. Fear and instinct as deep as the alleyways she was born to, she fell to her knees and pleaded for Harold and Bob to allow her to explain. Harold raised his arms out and smiled with full triumph at Bob then pointed at Myranda. "Now see, that is what I am talking about! Proper fear and respect!" Bob heartily agreed while two cowering pale teenagers wondered if the men had gone mad.

Arya would have been embarrassed about her situation if she weren't so concerned for her hand.

She had to carefully move with the door so Sandor and Sansa could squeeze in. Then Kevan gently guided her to shut the door again. Sansa looked at Arya's hand and then asked what Arya felt was the most incredibly stupid question. "Oh, Arya, what did you do to yourself?" Sandor grunted while giving the least sympathetic look anyone pinned to a door ever received. "I bet she opened her big mouth."

Kevan gave a sad smile to Sansa and Sandor. "Arya refuses to sign the contract and become engaged to Joff. She has offered to starve herself, run away, even kill my great nephew if need be. So. My darling Sansa, the contract for the engagement is on my desk. Please attach it to a clipboard and bring it here to me. Thank you." While Sansa did as she was bid and Sandor glared at Arya, who glared back, Kevan searched his pockets. "Ah ha! Here was the poisoned pen. This one writes better."

Sansa came over to Kevan and handed him the clipboard with the contract. Kevan took it with a polite thank you and showed it to Arya. "This is the contract that will solidify your engagement to Joff. Do you still say you won't sign this and comply with my orders?" In spite of glares from both Sandor and Sansa, Aray gritted out, "No, I won't sign or comply. I refuse to engage or marry Joff." 

Kevan gave her a smirk and his eyes grew warmer then his face just filled with a sunny charm despite the dark hour. "Sansa, my lovely child, please do me a favor. See where your sister must sign her name? Please forge it for me." He held out the pen and after the slightest hesitation, she took it carefully. "Do not worry, you cannot accidentally poison yourself."

Any seeming hesitations were vanished and Sansa held the golden pen with a look of fascination that no one missed.  Without even a glance of shame or remorse, the redhead wrote Arya's name in her exact bold faced impatient scrawl. "Thank you, Sansa. Now, on the bottom please add your mother's name in Cat's rather interesting bird scratching."

Arya felt tears come trickling like small lines of acid as she watched her sister betray her. Putting the signed contract closer to Arya, Kevan smiled. "Does that look realistic enough to you, Arya? Now you are engaged to Joff. Congratulations, dear. If you notice his name is already there, he didn't want to but Tyrion was able to compel Joff to sign quickly enough."

Kevan put the contract on his desk and walked back towards Arya and his voice was rich, slow and deep.

"You will starve yourself? Be my guest, little girl. Unella and Raff will use a feeding tube every day until you are eating full meals. You will try and run away? Go for it, Arya. Run as far and as fast as you can. There is a tracker in every student. We always will find you, drag you back and punish you severely for it. You will try and kill Joff if you must? Well then if my great nephew ever dies, we shall know exactly who is to blame. And that is crime you don't want to ever enter my circle for."

He was standing directly in front of the sobbing, defeated looking girl. "Take some time to speak with your sister soon. You could use her wise counsel. Start making better use of your mentor-ship, girl. This attitude, this rebellion sets you and Sandor back for this month's report I can assure you of that. Sandor, I suggest that after Arya gets her hand treated by Unella, you might wish to discipline her for such disrespect for her elders."

Kevan swiftly pulled the pen out of her hand without warning. Arya screeched and before she could twitch, he had her hand bound up in his pristine white silk hanky. "There, that should be fine. Oh, excuse me a moment, dear." He read his text and frowned deeply.

"Arya, it seems I might have pulled that pen out too soon. Theon has told Harold and Bob that you knew of his self mutilation? Is this true? I am relieved the boy truly doesn't wish to kill himself, but self mutilation is a very serious condition. You simply cannot tell me you don't know about cutting? Did you deliberately keep such a dangerous secret, something that could truly hurt or kill this poor boy?Are you going to try and tell me that you didn't understand what Theon was doing?  Shall you try that lie with me?"

Then the unexpected happened and Kevan was simply intrigued at every new twist with this delightful girl. Sansa moved gracefully but fast to stand next to her injured sister. This prompted Sandor to go Arya's other side and Kevan smiled. "Well, what is this? Do I call this mutiny or a sister and mentor protecting their charge?"

Sansa's voice was respectful but firm.

"No, Sir. I would never do such a thing. You are my mentor, I can't challenge you, you know far too much that I still need to learn. But I need to defend my sister this time. As you said, yes, in our social circles we saw cutting behavior all the time. We also saw eating disorders, suicidal behavior and addictions. And there wasn't any real help for it, the situations never changed and so the kids couldn't change. We all learned at our mother's knee that things you cannot control or change are best to be left alone. Sir, you know my mother and how she raised us. Arya only did exactly what we were trained to do. I will admit that if I had been in her position, I would have done the very same thing."  

Kevan sighed heavily and nodded. "Very well. I do recall what it's like to grow up within our circles. But old habits must be broken. Sandor, I shall leave any further discipline to you. Make sure that Arya understands what secrets we keep and what we tell. I just went through this with Jeyne not long ago. Children should watch and learn from each other's examples. Remember that, Arya. Now, we have a wedding tomorrow, a very busy day. Have a good evening, you are all dismissed."

The whole time that Harold and Bob relieved Myranda of her nightgown, attached the shock collar and the butterfly clip with a similar shocking charge to her clitoris, they both gave her sympathetic nods as she babbled her explanations. Both men gave every indication that they were hanging on her every word but their hands have already decided on going with guilt before innocence.

Once Myranda was properly attached, Bob and Harold let her remain on her knees as they towered over her. Harold toyed with the remote control in his hand, caressing the buttons with his thumb. With a tender smile and a calm reasonable voice full of sunshine and friendship, Bob spoke.

"Let's examine what you've said, sweet girl. Don't shake so hard, Myranda. It's not like that last time where you were shocked into those seizures. The current isn't that high, sweetheart. These aren't like our special toys, you've felt this many times before. It is silly to be so scared over something familiar, isn't it? Now, you wanted to test out Theon a little for yourself to see if our methods might help him. You wished to help him because you know what it feels like to be a cutter. You planned on bringing your information on Theon to us when we saw you next. You were going to tell of us both his cutting behavior and the results of your attempt to assist him. A gift for us and for Theon. You were helping us get another student to mentor, hoping it will please us and save the boy's lovely skin. I think that is pretty much what you've just babbled at us."

Harold looked over at Bob as if giving it all great consideration. "I believe our whore has a heart of gold. It's one of her best and worst qualities. Of course our girl would want to help a fellow cutter. Just like she wanted to help little girls stay safe from molesting daddies. I also believe that our sweet girl was affected by her mistakes and wishes to make it up to us. I do love gifts and gifts from the teacher's pet are always heartwarming. All of that is easily forgivable, I don't see where Myranda overstepped too much. It was all for the greater good, Bob. What do you think?"

Bob cupped his hand in his chin and took a moment to reflect while Harold patiently caressed the button on the remote. "I agree with everything you've just said, Harold. I am pleased that our girl is helpful, I am truly touched at the present we were being given. But Myranda should have told us right away that Theon needed our help. She waited because she thought to try her hand at helping him first. That means that Myranda was trying to counsel Theon, doesn't it? Myranda, are you a student or a therapist?"

Myranda shuddered and whimpered out, "A student, Sir." Harold and Bob smiled. "The present is lovely though and we thank you for it. And you are forgiven because we love you so much. But you are not a therapist and it was wrong not to tell us right away. Right? Right." Harold never lost his loving expression as his thumb came down hard on the button. Theon screamed from the couch as Myranda writhed on the floor, her legs spasming as her neck and tender bits below all took a lightening ride. Bob looked over at the boy and gave a chilling smile.

"Don't worry, lad. We haven't forgotten about you. But Myranda is our favorite, sweet girl and deserves our fullest attention and devotion. And we have to thank her for the lovely gift after we have this mild chastising. But then our attentions will be completely focused upon you. If you wish, take a little nap on the couch, you won't be going back to the dorm tonight or for a few nights, perhaps. So get a little rest while you can, sweet boy."

Theon shut his eyes tightly and curled up on the loathsome leather but there was no sleeping or resting. He listened to Myranda's choking and her feet pattering a beat on the rug as her next shock came. Then the girl was sobbing and pleading for forgiveness. He tensed, waiting to hear more agony but it didn't happen. A tentative peek showed him a whole new scene and it was just as disturbing as the torture was.

Bob and Harold were on the floor now, pulling up the sobbing whore so she was on their laps, Myranda was cuddling into them, embracing the simple affection. Theon watched as Myranda went from hardened teen whore, to tortured teen girl, to small child desperate for any true love or caring. While Myranda cried softly, the two men kissed her head, hugged her and spoke in soft, soothing tones. They called her their good girl, thanked her for the lovely present of Theon.

Harold removed the collar and nuzzled her neck, he removed the other device and used his hand to soothe the soreness. Myranda cried out and shivered but didn't try to stop him. Bob stroked his hands over the soft white skin of his girl and praised her for letting her body and head relax against him. Theon shut his eyes tightly again but he couldn't ignore the sounds.

Myranda sobbed softly at their soft words that Theon immediately recognized as grooming. It was what they all said Ramsay was going to do to him. Stupid fucks, he WANTED Ramsay to do that to him, to make him a mindless pain zombie. The first time Theon understood what grooming was he was still a child and seeing a school therapist. Theon had trusted, made the mistake of trusting that adult and told about his Uncle Euron.

Stupid betraying therapist had contacted the authorities. Balon almost beat him half to death after having to grovel to his betters in order to keep custody of his son. But Theon heard and understood the meaning of grooming. Theon just envisions something buried deep inside him, all he has to do is SEE Euron, HEAR that silly deadly voice and he will be taken like a zombie. Theon is sure of it. He has lived with this thought since he was that stupid trusting child.

Myranda's voice started to give responses, honest ripped up painful jagged replies to the sweetly put questions. "Yes, I am your good girl, I WANT to be your very good special girl! Please, I DO love you both, I have nothing else but you, I know that, I KNOW that! I just want to make you happy, please don't ever give up on me, please! I I am proud to be teacher's pet! Yes, I do, I swear it, I DO! I love you and Bob! I'll always be your good girl!" 

A few more moments and her breathing went quicker, the sobs became panting and then Theon heard Myranda start to whine and beg. For mercy, for release, for affection, for pleasure. Bob and Harold chuckled softly, encouraging Myranda to accept their generous gift of affection and Theon felt so horrible for her. He never thought beyond what she looked like. It never occurred to him that a tough, sexy whore like Myranda might be just as broken and fucked up on the inside as himself.

Myranda screamed in a mix of pleasure and frustration as the two men sounded playful and chided her for being so needy and desperate. She apologized frantically and Theon just prayed they would both leave her alone and stay with her forever. One one hand, he hated having to feel these pitiful emotions for Myranda's suffering but he also didn't want the creepy men to turn their attentions onto him.

"Please, Bob, Harold, Sirs, please, now? Please? Mercy, please forgive me, I am your good girl and I love you, obey you! You are my mentors, my guardians and my masters, my trainers, please!!!!!" With very pleased and patronizing voices, Bob and Harold gave their frantic girl what she begged for. Myranda wailed so loud in pleasure finally attained that Theon's ears hurt. To his amazement, the two men somehow managed to bring the girl to orgasm four more times in quick succession.

Theon had to open his eyes and see that, of course.  When he saw the positions they were all in, how the twins were giving Myranda such powerful pleasure, Theon found himself unable to decide if he was horrified or jealous. During Myranda's recovery, her mentors cuddled her and gently teased her for her continual shaking. Harold licked Myranda's tears from her face and Bob brushed out her pretty hair with his fingers.

They gave her a gentle sponge bath then put her nightgown back on. Harold led her to the door once Myranda was steady on her feet. "Time for good girls to be in their beds. Go to sleep and dream of all the lovely things that come from being our shining star. Good night, our little Myranda. I promise we are going to spend more time with you. Sweet girl, we had no idea until tonight how much you missed us and needed us. We won't fail you in that again, I swear it. Go on, sweet girl."

The door shut behind a very subdued Myranda and the twins turned to walk towards Theon. He shook and curled tighter on the couch, watching his reflection in their mirrored glasses as they came closer. Theon felt as small and helpless as he did when Euron would find him hiding. He wondered if he was going to be tortured or groomed first. Maybe one will start grooming while the other starts the torment, either way, Theon just knew he was fucked.

Chapter Text

Sansa squinted as the sunlight landed directly on her face from the window. Yawning, she tried to pull her arm out from the sleeping form pressed against her. It took a moment to completely untangle herself. It was still quite early, so she simply tiptoed out of Arya's room and headed to her own still made bed.

Arya might have faced a long painful night. After leaving Kevan's house, she dared to accuse Sansa of betraying her and the whole Stark line. This prompted Sandor into backhanding her and ordering Arya to become a mute. At the clinic Unella worked on the hand, muttering how pregnant doctors need at least one hour of sleep a night or they start offering free lobotomies.

Arya started to argue with Sandor and Sansa to ignore the treatment of her hand. Even though the doctor had numbed it and gave her a pill that made things fuzzy, Arya didn't want to see it or think about it. So she distracted herself by annoying others but Sansa watched as Sandor found a perfect solution for it. The large man got a hold of Unella's surgical glue and glued Arya's lips together.

Just as Unella finished and gave instruction paper for Sandor to present to Polliver in the morning, Arya started to sob. Loud and messy. Unella became alarmed and gave the girl pen and paper. "Are you in pain? Anywhere else on your body?" Arya simply wrote down that her father was dead. Sandor rolled his eyes and moved away uneasily. Sansa's eyes filled with tears and she hugged her sister, who only fought the embrace for a moment before giving in.

The girls cried and Unella muttered about hormones and to get them out of the office. "Discipline her tomorrow, Sandor, let the girls go grieve and sleep!" Sandor hastily shoved the crying girls towards the dorms.

"Fucking women. Don't get it, don't want to. Don't think tears gets you out of trouble, girl! We will speak after the wedding crap is all over with. Hear me? There won't be classes or mentoring times, everyone has the day off to slave away on this stupid farce. And Arya, you will be helpful, you will be cheerful for your sister and you will obey orders. Or so help, I am not above doing what Tyrion did to Joff! Go cry and sleep!"

Sansa had taken Arya inside the house and it was dead silent, everyone else was asleep or at least quiet in their rooms behind closed doors. She shoved Arya into her room then followed her in. Her sister ran into the bathroom, trying to see if she can use soap and water to dissolve the glue on her lips. Sansa sighed and pulled her away. "No, I think that should stay there, it's not going to last past morning. I want to talk without you arguing with me."

She got Arya's nightgown out of the dresser and helped her change then she sat her rash little sister down on the bed. Sansa grabbed Arya's face gently but firmly, forcing them to look into each others eyes. "Listen to me very carefully. You no longer have the luxury of being a kid. Okay, hear me? I'm sorry, it sucks and it's not fair. But it's happening and you are going to happen with it or be buried under this school or wherever mother stashes your body. You think I was betraying you in Kevan's house? Idiot, I am fucking saving you, as I always have saved you. I wish I knew why I bother since you seem determined to get yourself killed!"

Arya pulled away and gave Sansa the finger, burying the rest of herself under the covers of her bed. Sansa sighed and started to head for the door. Another crack, just a small one in her porcelain statue and Sansa ran for the bed so fast that Arya screamed under closed lips. She landed hard upon her sister, punching the pillow hard on either side of Arya's head. "No, you are going to fucking listen to me. You will hear me and then if you die, if you are snatched or a thousand other fucking things at least I won't feel responsible for it. Listen to me or I swear to the gods, I'll kill you myself. I 'll smother you with your pillow and save the world the trouble!"

Sansa waited until Arya stopped struggling then spoke in a hard but soft, clear voice.

"Mother and the boys are going to be hunted and killed. We are going to be alone with fortunes that everyone wants. Mother knows this and will most likely hope to get to us before that happens. At best we would be kidnapped and sold off by mother to other men we will like even less. And if Mother thinks she cannot snatch us, she will kill us if she thinks she can. You have to believe me, you know her, you know she would rather see us dead then in the hands of Lannisters. We are in more danger from her then the Lannisters. It's only a contract, Arya, who knows what can happen to change your circumstances before you reach eighteen? Maybe you will develop a skill that is more important to Kevan than a marriage to a little creep?"

Tears came then along with sniffles and Sansa stroked her sister's hair. "I'm sorry, I know it all is so wrong. I am marrying tomorrow and it certainly isn't the way I had it planned in my head. As an Oscar, I expected a quality and stunning, dramatic wedding, instead it will be held in a school, probably wearing my damned uniform." She gave a wry smile to Arya who wasn't returning it. Sansa sighed. "I wish you'd understand why I have to do this, why you have to do this. Do you think mother will save you? Would you want her to save you, Arya? She will sell you to Walder Frey as a shiny new wife. Don't think it's below her. If she can't sell you to the highest bidder, you'll end up like Jon and Rickon. Is that what you want, to see if mother cares enough not to kill you?"

A sharp bitter laugh and Sansa's face was cold and cruel as she stared down at Arya.

"Is that it? Maybe that is it. Let me assure you, she would kill you and feel nothing but relief. When you were a baby, you cried all the time. I mean, it was awful and mother wasn't very stable at the time. She was on medication, father was always gone on jobs for the Lannisters and she had to deal with me, Robb and Bran. One night I woke up because you suddenly stopped crying and my room was next to yours. I walked into your room because I thought something seemed wrong. I was right, mother was holding your tiny face in her hand, just smothering you with one hand. Her face, I had nightmares for months over her face. She saw me and stopped, left the room. I slept in your damned nursery for another three months just in case."

Arya was in full sob now and trying to squirm away from her sister's terrible face and words that cut deep.

"I wish I could say that was the only time. I watched her lock you in closets, pull your hair, beat you worse than anyone besides Jon. You fought her so hard and I thought she would kill you. I begged father to let you live with Aunt Lysa before mother murdered you but he just patted my head and gave me a new damned doll. That was the same doll that a month later mother sent sailing into your head. When mother wouldn't stop trying to kill you, it was me that hit her and knocked her out with a pan! I was the one who called the ambulance. And while you were in the hospital getting patched up while fending off social services, I was the one who knelt on dried beans and tacks for seven hours. Then mother beat my ass, back and thighs with a riding crop until I bled and father took her weapon away."    

Sansa didn't even know she was crying out of rage and pain until she saw the drops falling onto Arya's own messy face. She grabbed her sister's head so she couldn't get away from a single word.

"Remember the night of Jon and Rickon's death? Huh? Yeah, you do, go on, try to move your head or scream, doesn't matter. Mother took the boys out for ice cream. It was a suspicious thing because she had been so mad at them the week before for trying to run away from home. And when I mentioned that to you, you chose not to go. Because you were invited too, remember? You, Jon and Rickon. They died, Arya. Died that night and you would have to. The three of you were problems and mother doesn't have time for problems, does she? And all of this shit going on, is a very big problem for her. We have become a problem, Arya. Mostly you, since mother knows you don't easily comply."

Arya was nearly hysterical and Sansa relented. After getting tissues for both of them, Sansa rubbed her sister's back as the girl wept. She had fallen asleep soothing her sister into slumber.

Sansa managed to sneak in about another fifteen minutes of dozing in her own bed before a baton tapped at her door.

 

Chapter Text

Kevan looked up from his meal as Gilly set a mug of restorative tea instead of coffee for Harold. Internally wincing, knowing his men well, he waited for some baiting to begin. But Harold simply smiled and thanked the girl for it. Raising an eyebrow, Kevan put down his fork after Gilly left the room.

"I simply cannot ignore how cheerful and placid you both are. Yesterday I was concerned about you skinning my one good servant. When you ran in and grabbed Theon so fast, I thought you might skin him! So that is currently my worry, gentlemen. Where is our young Theon Greyjoy? And if your response is to show me a flesh blanket, that might be your very own fates."

Bob responded in a very calm and respectful voice with a chilling truth to it.

"Sir, that boy's skin is so marred it revolts me to think of any one of our proper tastes, feeling that scarred flesh under them. We would not sit upon it, nor could we find a buyer so low as this, that we would associate with. Theon is resting upstairs. He was eager to speak last night. He told us everything about Euron Greyjoy, his father, his sister and so forth."

Harold sipped the tea and leaned back in his chair.

"The boy was molested as a young child by Euron. Uncle liked to give the boy a nice taste of his own LSD then play a messed up version of hide and seek. Except it was more like hide and rape. It continued for awhile because daddy was too busy banging his own little girl and drinking himself into a coma. The school noticed Theon's behavior change and he told a therapist all about it. Euron was kicked out of the house, Balon got others to fix it and Theon came home. Just for Balon to beat him half to death for the whole thing. He blamed the boy for his uncle's behavior. And the cutting began. What happened between Ramsay and Theon was consensual. Theon finally thought he had someone to do the cutting for him."

Bob and Kevan watched as Harold frowned, noticing he had completely finished the cup of tea. "Huh."

Trying very hard not to snicker, Bob looked at his boss. "We shall mentor Theon. It is such a personal and difficult journey to help his cutting, to have us within his head and skin. A bond is formed and we can't just let him leave with new tender flesh and no one to guide him, protect him. Unlike Myranda, Theon is a true babe in the woods, pretending to be a wolf."

Kevan harrumphed and gave a stern glance at Harold who was now sipping at his coffee but not happy about it.

"Myranda was already in the job, so to speak, when she came to my school. Theon has never engaged in such things. I would not wish to force him into such things, he was abused terribly. Euron was always a wild crazy criminal who should have died of an overdose or a bullet to his head years ago. Can Theon handle the kind of work Myranda does?"

Harold put the coffee down and slid the mug away.

"Not quite the same as Myranda, no. But he has other qualities that will appeal to men of all ages, he can tell us what is too scary for him. We will assure him that we will always keep his triggers in mind, never push too far. Regardless of what happened to him, the boy screams masochist. After Theon spoke of his past, got it all out, he raged, he sobbed and we calmed, soothed him. Only after that expulsion of filth stuck in his mind, did we attempt to test anything else. He responded quicker than Myranda ever did. The boy loves fear, he loves pain and we are carefully explaining to him that this is separate from anything in his past. That it's a normal thing for some to play, many play and we can guide him to get his needs in a safer but more exciting ways. He already understands what we wish for him to become and has agreed."

Kevan gave a tiny shiver and cleared his throat. "Very well. I want him back at the school tomorrow morning, in one full piece, gentlemen. It's best he miss the stress of a rushed wedding today. He is yours and I hope you take very good care of him. When Euron comes sniffing, I would be happy to let you two speak with him for Theon. He will not handle such a thing, you'll have to speak for him."

This brought a shining smile to both men and Kevan finished his breakfast. Bob finished his coffee before speaking in a cheerful light tone.

"Excellent! We have decided that like Sandor, we should take more of an interest in our students here. We will mentor both Theon and Myranda, not only when they need to go out for work, but in their school lives in general. If they get bad grades or bad behavior, that is also on us since we are their mentors. So, like Myranda has been doing, we shall strive to do better."

Kevan stared briefly at Bob and decided he didn't want to know whatever was running through their heads. He told himself not to respond, he didn't have the time. Yet this was one of the reasons he loved these two so much. Why Cat had been interesting, why Jeyne was interesting, why Sansa was interesting. Kevan loved unique, curious people.

"Gentlemen, let me tell you what visions come to mind when you say you will have more active participation with your students during school hours. I am picturing Harold's head peeking over a bush, into Tyrion's history room. I see the sun glinting off Bob's glasses as he hides in a tree while Myranda and Theon have gym below."

The men just chuckled and smiled wider. Kevan shook his head and gave them an affectionate grin before noticing his text messages.

"Ah, excuse me, it looks like our busy day shall begin! Lancel says he will be here in about an hour, please make sure to escort him to me directly! Oh, Cat Stark wishes to visit and see her daughters! How convenient and fun that would be! Hmmm. Well, I think we can let Cat wait until tomorrow, we have a very busy day and interruptions just aren't needed. I have already found a more than eager relative of the girls to walk our lovely Sansa down the aisle."

Breakfast was a dismal affair that caused everyone to glare at Ramsay and sneer at Joff, who was already feeling the humiliation of the princess dress. He had to get a pillow from Raff in order to sit and when Joff did, it nearly brought tears to his eyes. Ramsay moved like his body turned zombie and he kept grimacing, his voice was too hoarse to use much.

Arya stared at Joff in the dress and he sneered back at her. With a laugh, she muttered, "Guess we know who the wife will be in our marriage. Gonna go into the kitchen and make me a sandwich, Princess?" "Fuck you!" Arya snorted. "I doubt it, Princess. Maybe I can fuck you?" Joff glared at Ramsay to bully the girl but he was ignoring them to glare back at everyone else. 

Loras and Sansa ate together quietly but quickly. As he gave up on the sad meal, Loras dabbed his lips with a napkin and spoke in a light soft tone.

"I'll help you get ready if you'd like. I noticed you weren't in your room last night. I heard you talking at your sister. I thought you might have been killing her since I heard no brat voice back. Still trying to convert her to TeamSansa, huh? It won't happen, her mouth runneth over, Arya is too young and dumb."  

Sansa gave a small smile to the tormented boy. "Let me worry about my own little sister. Sure, I would love your help today, Loras. how kind of you to offer."

Stannis and Tyrion did the cooking while Polliver and Raff set up and served. Fruit salad, burnt toast with jam or butter, scorched oatmeal and sliced, fried bologna. Only Unella came back for seconds. She was grimacing the whole time, muttering to her stomach, "I blame you for making me eat this nasty sludge. Why must you be so hungry?"

Jeyne was sitting and toying with her peaches when Unella came by saying this and she gasped.

"Oh no. It's happening. Unella will be the one to kill the baby and then Gregor will kill her. It is fate now, I made fate!" Myranda shoved Jeyne a little. "Stop that. We talked about this, you aren't responsible for anything they do now. You are paying your price, you made your apologies and have been trying very hard to become a full person. Karma is happy now. And Unella is upset because she is hungry and the food is nasty. Doesn't mean she wants to kill the babies, she just doesn't want to eat this food. You have got to calm down with this stuff."

Leaning closer, jeyne noticed a few slight bruises, and a slight change in the way Myranda moved. "Harold and Bob? Last night?" Myranda nodded and gave a small smirk that didn't reach her eyes.

"Yep. They finally recalled that I exist. And SuperD is up at Kevan's house now, all tucked away in their playroom. His secret cutting was exposed and SuperD told them I knew about it. Which I did. I got a little reminder of why I shouldn't keep secrets and reassurance of my place with my mentors. Don't worry about the kid, they really will help him stop hurting himself and they will fix his skin over time. SuperD will be back here soon and I bet he'll be going away on weekends just like me soon enough."

Jeyne nodded and asked, "Is he safer with Harold and Bob than with Ramsay?" Myranda smiled. "Yes, he is. As long as he never tries to run or fight. And if he was the kind to run or fight, Harold and Bob wouldn't use him in the first place. They are very good at picking the right kid for the right kind of jobs." Jeyne decided to let it go and she grinned.

"It was nice to not have to get up early to set up. We got to go see Hot Pie. I knew he would be awake because we woke up at the same time we always do! I was really scared for him, I was so happy when he opened his eyes and talked!"

Rolling her eyes while eating a peach, Myranda snickered.

"You cried like an idiot all over him. And YOU scared the living daylights out of Hot Pie by jumping onto the bed like that! And we got kicked out by Unella because you kept accidentally pulling tubes and setting off those alarms. Don't forget, our morning off only means extra work later, as all things do here at our sweet school! We have to hurry and turn this place into a suitable wedding location. Yay. As if we have ever gone to a wedding."

"How does the boy do this everyday? Gods, I had no idea the sacrifice he makes for us! I shall shower the boy with gifts, bribe Unella to cure the boy faster with unethical haste, if need be!" Tyrion was covered in sweat and oatmeal.

"Stannis, do you hear me, fellow? Have a care there, it's still-hot. Cold water. Sir, put your hand in the cold water, not the pan. Oh gods, maybe Unella can make Hot Pie bionic? I can contact some people if need be. Damn it, the leftover fruit is for lunch, yes, but not the ones with a bite still in it, Polliver, very funny. I almost forgot the two of you were our class clowns. And here comes the damned food fight, so glad our students left first!"

Tyrion was pelted full in the face by a spoon of cold oatmeal and his honor was besmirched. Stannis roared forth with an entire bag of old produce and a glint in his eye. Polliver and Raff responded in joyful savage memories of the past. While others worried and scurried to plan a wedding, the four of them went back in time. When they ended the small fantasy of youth, they discovered they had enough mess to clean that they might miss the wedding.

Never had the professors and the youngest staff members collaborated and moved so fast to clean in their lives. But they all did it with a relaxed grin.

Only two guests were slated to be allowed inside along with their entourage. The first was not the groom, this person was the relative of the Stark girls. He showed early for a reason. The entourage following this man wasn't yes men or armed guards or any such northern nonsense. Gregor searched every man and woman regardless but found nothing deadly.

Kevan was smiling as he welcomed back his former student, one he had personally mentored, then released into the world.

"I have brought someone for Sansa's hair and make up, I had a dress bought that would be somber enough for a fast school wedding but at least it's a dress that she can be proud to wear. Arya will be subjected to the same make over as her sister since she will stand as her maid of honor. The dress can hide the duct tape and chains if need be. This is a decorator that is known to work fast with whatever can be found and create miracles. And since you said your cook had an accident, I brought a caterer and baker. It's the least I can do when my poor grieving niece has finally found love and her father can no longer help or stand for her. As her uncle, this is my duty. Thank you for allowing me the honor, Kevan."

"Petyr, it is so good to see you again. I forgot how organized you are and how much you love to play the knight in slightly tarnished armor! I am sure that Sansa will be thrilled to have you by her side as she marries my son. It's a wonderful day for a wedding and young love, isn't it?"

"Oh, it truly is."

Chapter Text

The students were not used to the real world barging in upon them.

Petyr was warned, the workers were warned to not disturb the students or staff. Kevan made sure the staff and students were warned.

Polliver snarled at everyone pressed against the wall.

"I want pressed uniforms. Shined shoes. Princess, you have permission to transform into a real boy until the wedding is over and everyone has left. Do not abuse this privilege or your ass will suffer greatly for it. Oscar and Target, you get all spiffied up today as if you were real ladies! Target, you will put a smile on your face and your tongue locked inside your mouth. I want good behavior today, I want the strangers left alone, if you must talk to them, be polite. Death Row, I am looking straight at you! Duckling, is there something wrong today, you seem so quiet? No? Good."

 The second that Polliver dismissed the students, Jeyne flew to her room. Frowning, Polliver sent a quick text to Raff to keep an on Jeyne today, she was very upset at the extra people.

Myranda had to wrestle her into her uniform, which Jeyne threw a hoodie over to hide her head and face. "Stupid, the second Gregor sees the hood on your head, he is going to rip it off you. You'll be lucky if he doesn't shave your head again. Listen, how about this? I will give you a make over. Let me put some make up on you and fix your hair. It's already growing fast, I can spike it with gel and make you look like a badass, okay? Don't you want to look like a Bad Ass Person? Please?"

Reluctantly, Jeyne agreed and whined slightly as Myranda took the hoodie off her. She sat still through the icky feeling of things covering her face, but stayed still. The hair was done faster and only then did Myranda show her the mirror. Tilting her head, Jeyne stared at the reflection for a moment.

Her lips looked fuller and were colored such a dark red, it looked nearly black. A mix of blue, gray and purple have transformed her large brown eyes into a mysterious softness. Jeyne's short hair was no longer just puffing out in strange directions. It was spiked and trimmed so that she had a full head of small spikes, like blades, like weapons and she gave a true smile.

"Yes. This I like. This is a Bad Ass Person. I can do this."

Arya felt like a doll, being pulled apart and rebuilt. The snooty dressers just rearranged her as they wanted to and she kept her mouth shut. Her head was spinning about her sister, her mother. Was it true? Would her mother have hated her that much since birth? She looked in the mirror and grimaced then decided not to look again. The feeling of make up was disgusting to her.

Catching another glance in the mirror after the make up was applied was interesting though. As much as Arya didn't like the feeling of make up, it did transform her very well. She could have been another person, some simpering débutante in a boring blue dress with her hair pinned up. Someone who looked like she fit right in and no one would notice her.

Sansa was thrilled to get a break from Loras fluttering about her like a colorful bird, trying to get a peck or two in. He was overtaken and drowned out by the dressers that stampeded her room. It was killing Sansa that she found out that Uncle Petyr was here by these strangers. Polliver told Sansa when she was fully ready, Petyr would come see her.

So she silently was allowing these fashion nazi's their way and watched her hair go curly and up in a towering fluffy bun with tendrils escaping in a planned pattern. She was terrified that they would add a tiara and a dress straight out of Gone With The Wind. Luckily the dress was a long white lace Victorian style dress. Loras did the honors of tightening and tying the corset underneath the dress and Sansa could only take short breaths now.

Both Tyrion and Stannis took some time to visit with Hot Pie before they had to dress up. They played a quick game of cards with him and told him the latest chaos. They did not tell Hot Pie of the food fight or of the stuck up chefs complaining of the paltry kitchen they had to work with. Hot Pie was thrilled with the visit. He looked awful but his smile was genuine.

"Aw, I am on lots of painkillers in this IV. I feel fine, just wish I wasn't missing everything! I mean, a wedding! Well, I will see Unella and Gregor's wedding but that won't be the same." Tyrion agreed heartily. "That one will be more like a grim Viking wedding. I think we have to sacrifice a goat. I am just glad we had a chance to see you. You must be bored to death all alone."

"Well, I woke up this morning by seeing Jeyne leap onto my bed with a smiling Myranda right behind her. Then Gregor, Unella, Polliver and Raff all came by to visit. Polliver gave me a get well present." With pride, the injured boy held up the open box with the taser in it. "He told me all staff has a defensive weapon on them in case students become dangerous. He GAVE me a weapon because I am considered more staff than a student now!"

Kevan and Petyr walked slowly, both matching each other's step, both with their hands behind their backs. He was leading Petyr down the hill to see the girls before the wedding.

"I ask that any picture or film you take on your phone of the wedding aren't sent to Cat before the wedding is over. I expect that you can take the copy of the wedding certificate and Arya's engagement contract to Cat. Let her know you have witnessed the acts done. Assure her that the school is a neutral location. I will allow her and the two boys to come inside to see the girls. That I have my brother's word that no violence will occur before she sees them, that Cat has a very strictly timed truce. After Cat has said goodbye to her daughters, she will have hours to run or attack before he releases the dogs. It is the best I can offer her."

Petyr nodded then gave a small smirk. "I am not sure I want to be the messenger, her mood is rather volatile these days. I do this for the girls, for my dear nieces. I have been friends with Cat for so long, but I never overlooked her faults. I saw them and when I could redirect them, I did. Ned was her husband, he didn't care for my influences on his family. But she ran that family and the business, Ned just enforced it. She was a very strict mother and her girls were not as compliant as quickly as the boys were. That is when I would try to intervene and found that I truly cared for the girls. Such potential in the right hands."

Kevan and Petyr shared a look over that. "Exactly what I would say. I love seeing my successes, such as you and my son. Sadly, I could never truly say the same for Cat. I mean, she truly did raise the Stark name and grew a fortune. But she raised those children wrong, the males became mere puppets, those girls, it's just a shame. It was a miracle that they ended up here. It is the best thing to ever happen to them, I would say. Sansa has truly embraced her experiences here and she mentors with myself and Tyrion."

Petyr chuckled slightly. "I would expect no less of that girl." Kevan nodded then added, "Arya is not quite where I'd like her to be, a little rebel and a tough nut to crack. Her mother was very hard upon her and Arya lashes out, like a kitten that finally got out of the damned confines of mother and the cardboard box. It isn't ready to go down the porch steps, but it's going to try anyway. Sandor is her mentor and her sister tries hard to be a good example for her. Arya fought hard against this engagement, of course."

This time Petyr sighed. "I would expect no less. Arya is a fifteen year old and full of contradiction. I am afraid she has always had this streak of rebellion and I can't tell you how surprised I was that only Jon and Rickon ended up dead. I always believed if Cat killed one of them, it would be Arya." Kevan frowned and gave a narrow look to Petyr.

"Cat was never accused of their deaths, the investigation turned up no proof against her, she was never charged. Do you really believe that Cat would murder one of her children? And if she was killing the children that annoyed her, why wasn't Arya on that list? This subject bothers me, it smacks of common gossip. We never did cure you of that, did we, Petyr?"

With a slight flush, Petyr nodded, accepting the rebuke. Kevan smiled and stopped walking as they reached the path that would lead towards the swarm of decorators. "I must go meet with my son. Just ahead, you'll find the girls near the dorm house. I am sure you remember the way. Regardless of any gossip or worries, the girls will be safe here. Cat will not kidnap or kill them, I can give you my word on that, Petyr. Enjoy your visit with the girls, thank you again for your help. It is wonderful to see you again, Petyr."

Polliver went to Kevan's house in a baton wielding fury and ran into an immovable force. Gilly was vacantly polite in her perfect uniform and her thick braid hanging over her shoulder like a whip.

"Damn it, woman! One of MY DUCKLINGS is in there and I demand to see him! And I want to see Harold and Bob, those fucking kidnappers!  I am the counselor of Theon Greyjoy and if someone is KEEPING him away from his dorm house then I get to know why! A text that just tells me he won't be home doesn't fucking suffice! Let me in. Now!"

Smiling, Gilly stood there with her hands folded on her stomach, her voice was polite and firm. "Harold and Bob have texted me. They are going to seek you out very soon on school grounds. They will speak with you before the wedding happens down near the student areas. Theon Greyjoy is here and resting comfortably. That is all the information I have for you, Sir. As I have already told you numerous times."

Looming over the young woman, sticking his face in hers with a menacing scowl didn't even make her twitch. Polliver thought he might have detected a bit of boredom and irritation in her eyes. That was all Polliver could take. He exploded, waving his arms while screaming into her face. That smiling, placid face that he wanted to whack his baton into to see if the reaction changes.

"I HAVE SEVERAL TWITCHY NERVOUS KIDS THAT ARE HERE FOR ACTS OF VIOLENCE! I AM TRYING TO KEEP THEM CALM FOR A DAMNED WEDDING OF ALL THINGS! I CANNOT HAVE THE CREEPER TWINS GETTING THEM ALL RILED UP BY WANDERING AROUND THEM LIKE A NIGHTMARE MAFIA! I JUST WANT THEM TO SEE ME FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS TO KNOW WHY THEY KIDNAPPED MY DUCKLING! I WANT TO KNOW WHY I WASN'T TREATED LIKE STAFF, REGULAR PROTOCOL DAMMIT! AND I HAVE A RIGHT TO CHECK ON MY CHARGES!"

Gilly smiled and responded calmly. "Yes, you have told me this many times. I wish I could help you, Sir. There is nothing more I can do but repeat the message again. Shall I do that for you, Sir?" Polliver glared at the woman and sneered. "I am going in there." Gilly smiled and shook her head firmly. "No, you are not. I have a very specific list of who is allowed inside today. Your name is not on that list." 

Polliver twirled his baton and thunked it into his hand but Gilly stood there, just smiling. "I am going to go through you if you don't move, woman." "My name is Gilly. I am not letting you inside, Polliver. You are welcome to try but I wouldn't suggest it." He started forward, stomping, hard and fast, it sends ducklings scurrying but not Gilly. The woman just stood there and he found himself stopping just before reaching her. Something, Polliver didn't know what, but something wasn't right with that.

"What the fuck are you? Fine, tell those fuckers not to mess with the ducklings! Damned, crazy ass stuck up bitch. Fuck you!"

Gilly just smiled and waved her hand at him. "No, thank you. I don't engage in relationships with staff." She shut the door on the angry cursing man to finish her chores. 

Kevan threw his arms wide, his face animated in a brilliant wreath of cheer and welcome.

"My son! Welcome home! I am so happy to see you, look at you! A sight for sore eyes, your perfection is a balm to my soul after dealing with wayward teens!" Lancel gave his father a warm smile and a tight hug. "It's been too long! I should take more time to visit you, father. I get so busy then I get distracted and I forget. Forgive me. I am happy to be here now."

 

 

Chapter Text

Lancel gave Bob and Harold each a handshake along with his own winning smile, which matched their own. It looked like a dental ad for a moment. "Bob and Harold! Both of you look exactly the same still. As a child, I wondered if father built you two like robots sometimes. How have you two been?" Harold responded pleasantly. "In a way, your father did build us, but more in our heads than any metal in our bodies. Thank you for the compliment however. We have been well. How are you?"

They chatted lightly for a moment then Kevan waved Gilly over. "Ah, Lancel, this is my housekeeper, Gilly. She is sister to the ladies you have taken in." Gilly gave a wide smile and a firm handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Sir. Thank you so much for helping my sisters. I'm grateful that we have people like you and your father to help us." Lancel gave a small blushing grin but Harold noted that Gilly's eyes have not once changed from her usual cold polite look.

The boy was handsome, charming and saved her sisters but the girl was still unmoved. Harold looked at Bob who gave a slight shrug to his frustrated partner. "Thank you, Gilly. I am only glad that I was able to help in any way. It's a pleasure to meet you. The girls have told me all about you. Father and I shall have to arrange a visit soon. The girls miss you."

Gilly's smile never changed and her voice stayed as polite and pleasant as ever. "I am sure they don't truly miss me all that much, just a memory. I have been separate from them for some time now. A visit would be lovely when and if Kevan saw fit for me to do so. I wouldn't wish to shirk any of my duties. I am very grateful to your father for all he has done for me and for my sisters. I want to make sure that I live up to my end of the bargain by caring for his home correctly."

Kevan smiled at his bemused son as the housekeeper excused herself to the kitchen. "Gilly is my favorite of all servants. Isn't she just refreshing? So before you ask, Mr. Bleeding Heart, no, I won't give her to you. We can make arrangements for a visit sometime, a little reunion for her birthday perhaps."

Harold and Bob got ready to head towards the school grounds and Gilly rushed over to them. She held a small thermos out to Harold. "Excuse me, Sir? Would you please bring this to Polliver when you see him? I would rather not go down there myself. It's not proper." Bob stared at the thermos while Harold just took it numbly. "Dearest Gilly, what is in the thermos? Did Polliver ask you for something?"

"No, Bob. It's some restorative tea. The man was clearly high strung, screaming and waving his baton. Poor man could use a little tea. Thank you very much, Harold." Gilly walked away and Bob smiled at the frowning Harold. "Clearly, Polliver had attempted to make it through the wall that is Gilly. Isn't it nice to know that it's not just us?" Harold shook his head. "I wonder if the tea is her own little victory shot."

Petyr walked past the other students, paying them no particular attention. Jeyne gave a small growl as Petyr started to go past her. Something about him has always bothered her but Myranda tried to shush her. Jeyne stopped growling but stared at him, her teeth bared. She knew him, alright.  Petyr stopped and seemed to study the girl carefully. "You are that feral that Kevan keeps. How interesting, he has you trained enough to let you mingle off leash with the students. And look, they let you play with dress up like a real girl."

Before Jeyne could do more than bristle, Myranda took a step forward and in front of her. With her usual smirk, Myranda spoke in a loud but sweet voice. "And I know you, Petyr! Not from here at the school, of course. Dear me, no. I met you through a gentlemen named Karl and you had some lovely girls with you. Where was that again?"

His eyes were cold as they looked over Myranda. "That's right. I wonder if Karl remembers you? I should have someone ask him. You are hard to forget, hard to forget such a young girl that knew so many adult things.  Your specialty was anything that most civilized folks wouldn't even know the terms of."

She watched as Petyr walked away towards the sight of Loras waving him forward.

"That's it. You are going to see Raff right now. I can't spend all day trying to keep you from eating someone. You look like a person but that growl wasn't very human. Let's go, right now." Myranda dragged Jeyne past Ramsay who called out asking where the Mad Max convention was taking place. Joff had giggled and added that Jeyne could now just stab others with her head.

"I'm still too raw in the head for this much fucking shit." Myranda snarled and convinced herself she was fine, it was only Jeyne that was the issue.

Raff was heading for Jeyne and was surprised when Myranda nearly ran up and threw Jeyne at him. "She growled at Petyr. Everyone is making her too nervous. I gave her a make over and she looks like a proper bad ass person. Ramsay and Joff teased her a little but she didn't growl at them, just stuck up both fingers. So that's something. But she's making me jittery. I don't want to get blamed if she goes off like a rocket. This is all a lot for me, never mind for her."

Smiling down at Jeyne who was visibly shaking and hugging her hands close to her chest, Raff used his best voice. "Aw, Jeynie, I like the new look. You look very bad ass indeed. And certainly like a person. Come here, sweetheart." He wrapped one arm around each and headed back into the clinic. "Let's go visit Hot Pie and have a nice cold soda to calm down. There is plenty of time before this thing starts."

Raff got each of them a plastic cup full of ice and soda. Except his and Hot Pie's had no sedative in it. Just a touch, just enough for Jeyne and Myranda to calm down but not enough to make them tired or loopy. Except he had mixed it in a pitcher, which Myranda grabbed and refilled her drink and Jeyne's while Raff was in the bathroom.

Loras greeted Petyr with all due social respect and led him towards the soon to be gaming cabin. Today it was commandeered by strangers with make up cases, measuring tape, fabrics and foreign speaking men waving hair products.

"Loras, I can barely believe it's you. The last time I saw you, you were such a grand display of color and noise! Fashionable to the hilt and all that hair. Your grandmother must be amazed and pleased by this transformation. Perhaps just a little dismayed since she loved to have reason to tease you."

With a bashful smile, Loras responded lightly.

"Fun such as that was fleeting and empty in the end. It cost lives. Here I have discovered that fighting the system isn't the way to live. I have dug deep and found that I just may have purpose after all. I am concentrating on my studies and have found new ways to find fun in books, nature, in helping others. My grandmother is just as confused as you are. She is happy and sad that she cannot find things to nag me about yet. I have become good friends with Sansa. I help out Damon and Jeyne with their studies and I am a friend to Damon as well as a roommate."

Petyr raised his eyebrow.

"How interesting. Not the part about Sansa, considering your ages, intelligence and social standing, the friendship makes sense. The charity, that was more your sister and your fiancé, wasn't it? Any charity work you've ever done was by force of them or your grandmother. And to tutor a hulking menacing creature like Damon? After the things he's done? And the feral? She looks better now but I had seen her a few times on visits to Bethany and Roose Bolton through the years. The girl is not going to ever be sane or safe no matter what tricks she is taught or how she is dressed up. Her mind is more like a dog and they did not keep anything but killers. There was  gossip that Jeyne was the one who killed their son Domeric, from the few who knew of her existence. Some believe that was the real reason Jeyne was sent here. So be careful as you tutor your two dumb and easily ordered killers. They are savages deep down."

With eyes that sparkled like hard gems, a smile that had cutting edges, Loras responded.

"It must have taken a terrible toll on you, Sir. To watch that girl turned into a killer dog and not be able to assist her at any point, in any way. I am glad that Kevan Lannister, the staff and myself are able to assist her now. Damon did horrible things because he was manipulated and he is trying to change himself. I am glad that I can be someone positive in his life. And by helping them, I better myself. Oh, look. Here we are, Sansa is right there. Excuse me."

Sansa rushed forward and threw herself into Petyr's arms as Loras made his escape. She hugged the man tightly but stepped back fast in order not to damage her looks. Petyr smiled down upon Sansa and held her shoulders. "Let me look at you. You look amazing, Sansa. I am honored that I can walk you down the aisle today. I know I am a poor substitute for your dear father."

"I was sorry to hear of Aunt Lysa. Thank you on your condolences. I grieve for my father but I will do my duty and do it well. You are the only other person besides my father, I would want to give me away at my wedding. I am all put together, nothing left but waiting and hoping nothing on me melts off before the ceremony. Shall we go for a small walk?" Petyr smiled and wrapped his arm in hers and strolled briefly in the tiny back area of the cabin. 

Petyr kept her in the shade so nothing would be in danger of melting off as they strolled slowly. "I am sorry I couldn't visit you. I am aware that you were trying to reach me. Your sister let me know that you were eager to speak with me by the way she gloated about being unable to get you on the phone. Don't blame the girl for it, it's her age. Fifteen is difficult. And I know why you were hoping to see me. You would have asked for me to release you, to get you away from this place and your mother."

Sansa blushed but looked up directly at him. "It doesn't matter now, does it? I am getting married to Lancel Lannister, can't go much higher than that. And if my mentorship with Kevan and Tyrion goes well, I will leave not only as a rich society wife, but one that can use her brain to become anything she wants. Nothing will please and piss off my mother more. All my dreams achieved thanks to this school. Better than hiding away."

"Very true. And I will tell you now that I never would have done it. As much as you would have hated me for it and I would have been hurt, I would not have let you leave here. It is truly the best shield between you and your mother, something I have longed to see for years, as you know. Also, having been a student and teacher here, I would have told you this is a place to learn if you put your mind to it. Yes, it's humiliating, degrading and abusive here. I am sure it's not as bad as when I was here, but they have never been known for their kindnesses. But the abuse tends to stop as you follow their lead, take the program seriously. The lessons here are all hard to learn but once you do, you grow for it. As you have clearly seen. As Loras has seen."

Gritting her teeth under the fond smile, Sansa nodded. "Yes, once the panic had receded and I started to surrender into the program, I saw how silly my thought had been. Of course you weren't going to rescue me. You aren't a shining knight to save any princess, are you? Uncle, where is Robin? How is he handling things? Wasn't he very close to Aunt Lysa?" Petyr smirked and turned them around to head back towards the cabin. "Robin is at home with his nannies and therapists. He is quite fragile still and this would be too much for him." Sansa smiled and asked sweetly, "Perhaps Robin could benefit from our school?"

One of Petyr's hands slid softly behind Sansa's neck and gently massaged as she gasped.

"Not yet, dear. You aren't ready to verbally spar with me right now. You are getting married today and must focus on that. Focus on being pretty and agreeable and a lovely star to shine upon others. The bitterness in your eyes and voice can be seen too well. Pictures will be taken and shown to your mother by tonight. Do not let her see any hope of reclaiming you in those pretty orbs. Cat is desperate right now, her claws have never been sharper. She and her sons are backed into a corner, she sees their deaths and her own looming. The Starks have no allies, they have nothing to offer. The only things left to use in any way, would be her daughters."

Sansa responded sweetly. "I don't intend to let mother use me in any way. I am going to be a Lannister now, not a Stark. My loyalties lie with my new family. And to this school, of course. Those out of the Lannisters circle or the school, don't matter to me and cannot use me anymore. I should head back inside, I feel my make up melting." Petyr guided her by the arm towards the cabin and asked, "What of your little sister? Does she still matter?" Sansa smiled. "Of course she does. She is going to be a Lannister and she is already a student of the school. Arya has my support and advice even if she chooses not to use it."

"Good to hear. Ah, you do need a small touch up, I see. You did indeed melt slightly. I shall leave you to the fixing and come get you for our ceremony. While you finish becoming a beautiful bride, I shall check on the maid of honor."

Chapter Text

Raff had brought his suit to the clinic this morning so he changed fast while the girls chatted with Hot Pie. He came out after styling his mane of hair and both girls grinned at him, appreciating his look. "Thank you." Myranda laughed but Jeyne blushed and looked away.

Hot Pie rolled his eyes and muttered, "At least when I was fat this kind of stuff didn't bother me. But watching you two drool over my damned nurse is too much! I am glad I won't see the wedding after all. If you two are drooling over Raff, I can imagine the great drowning of all the guests when you two see Lancel!"

Giggling both girls nearly fell off their stools. "It's true, Lancel is amazing but he is like fantasy for us, girl candy." Hot Pie stared at Myranda in horror and Raff just shook his head. In a playful voice, he teased. "Hey Jeynie! You aren't going to crush on Lancel, are you? Tell Myranda she is wrong, tell her I am more handsome." Jeyne giggled then spoke in nearly a whisper. "You are handsome. But Lancel is like a fantasy kind of pretty. Sorry."

Raff grabbed his chest and pretended to die while Jeyne giggled and bounced a bit on her seat. Myranda stood up, grabbed Jeyne and said, "We feel better now. We are going to get a good look at our candy now. Bye!" The two rushed out the door and Hot Pie raised both eyebrows. "They seemed to go from panic, to calm, to silly. Huh." Raff shrugged and fixed his cuffs as he walked past the little table he noticed the empty pitcher. "Oh shit."

The very second that she was declared finished, Arya tried to escape. Only to encounter a large suit and Sandor scowling down at her as if it were her fault he had to wear it. "Anywhere you go, I'm coming with you. You aren't getting out of this ceremony and you aren't messing up your, costume looks." He waved a large hand at her as if to indicate the dress and make over." Scowling back at him, Arya started to walk outside anyway.

"I'm not running away. I just want to get out of that damned crush. Sansa has the other side of the cabin and has just as many wranglers. They keep switching from the two of us, milling around, babbling in a language I can't understand. So they just pushed and prodded me like I was a beast until they finished! I just want out of there. I am done up there is nothing more for me to do until the ceremony."

Sandor walked beside her, trying to match her slower walk, clumsy in the fancy shoes. "If it's any consolation, you don't look bad or foolish. Just different. That can be a good thing. Costumes and make up can change you, acting can change your personality. You can make yourself noticed with it like your sister does, to be noticed and admired. You can use it like Myranda does, to entice or lure or you can use it to make you invisible. Something to think upon."

Arya nodded. "I already was thinking about that when I saw myself in the mirror. Maybe I can get lessons from the girls on how to use cosmetics. It could be a useful tool. I am concentrating on getting through this bullshit without embarrassing myself or getting in trouble. If this is what Sansa wants, let her have it. I will support her and try not to worry that my mother is coming tomorrow. Whether it's to kidnap, kill or curse me, who knows?"

"We can talk all about that tonight or in the morning. But I will say this, you will be safe the whole time she is here. No one is hurting you or stealing you. But let's talk about it later, right now let's focus on getting you through this with a smile instead of a scowl." With a snort, Arya retorted, "My own mentor and example does nothing but scowl!" Sandor forced a smile onto his face and Arya stared up horrified. "That is the scariest most unsettling thing I have ever seen. Don't do it again!"

"You smile or I do. All day." Arya yelled, "I surrender! See? Just go back to scowling, I'll smile!" Sandor watched as Arya's mouth stretched wide and teeth showed as eyes bulged with the effort of cheeriness. "Sweet gods, that is terrifying! Just grin or something!" Laughing, Arya watched Sandor's scowl deepen. Then her laughter dried up as she saw the stylishly dressed Petyr heading her way.

"Oh look, here comes a crow to peck my eyes out. Why can't he just go drool on my sister and leave me alone? I fucking loathe my Uncle Petyr, he always liked Sansa best and I was glad for it. He never did anything wrong to either of us, always spent time and money on us when mother let him. But I never trusted him, he just seemed so mean, so angry underneath the charm and I never understood why. He is a good friend to my mother, that is reason enough, I suppose. And knowing he killed my crazy aunt just sort of seals my lack of trust."

Sandor patted her shoulder then clenched it to keep her from fleeing her uncle. "You are right to trust your instincts. You are right about your uncle and I'll tell you more about that when you are ready for it. But for now, here is some practice for you. Instead of combating him, LISTEN to him and carefully. Afterwards, tell me everything he said and we shall pick it apart. Okay? Take a deep breath and get ready for some crow shit. Act like a spy not a girl stuck in her past. Impress me."

Arya's eyes lost their bitter defeated look and flared slightly with the interest of challenge. She put a grin on her face as Petyr approached and took her hand to kiss it. Normally, Arya would have shuddered but she just accepted it today. "Hello, Uncle, it's nice to see you again. Please accept my apologies on Aunt Lysa's tragic death." Petyr gave a sympathetic look and patted the hand he still hasn't released.

"Thank you, dear. It is so nice of you to remember my tragedies when you have so recently suffered your own. And at such a tender age. Please accept my condolences on your loss. I am not your father but I feel a responsibility to see to you girls the way he would have. I was honored to be chosen to take your sister to her new husband. I hope to do the same for you and Joff, of course."

Arya looked frantically for Sandor but he was a few feet away, looking away, as if he couldn't hear or care. Petyr noticed her pleading look to her absent mentor and smirked. He used the hold on her hand to pull her next to him and started to walk slowly, the girl nearly dragging her feet the whole time. It almost looked like a polite kidnapping or at least that is what Sandor thought. He followed at a discreet distance and cursed how the holster of his gun dug into him under the too tight suit. 

All staff will be carrying guns today and ready to put a bullet through Petyr's head the second he tries to lure or murder Cat's daughters. Sandor though Kevan was overestimating this cockroach. But rules are rules.

Lancel's name flourished across the line and Kevan smiled at him, taking his pen back.

"Thank you, son. I am sorry for this situation, I truly am. Your uncle needed our help and I cannot say no to him easily, you know that. And truly, that is what family does, a good family. I promise you that this doesn't affect your life or hers for sometime after today. Sansa is a pretty, intelligent and driven woman. She knows what is important, does what is needed and still remains a delight. That girl's mind is always at work even if she is simply dancing in a garden. As she is gracefully and gently dancing in the breeze, she is considering how to take down the world. It is utterly fascinating."

With an easy affectionate teasing manner, Lancel asked, "Father, are you waxing lyrical over my bride? Did you wish to marry her yourself and I am the second best choice? My heart is breaking, Sir!" Kevan chuckled and shook his finger playfully at his son. "Now don't begrudge me my happiness that I will have a daughter in law that I can like! I have seen your well intentioned love go awry before! You have brought home many a boy or girl that gave me near heart attacks! Plus, with our status and power hungry Tywin, I was also positive we would get stuck with some dull creature! This girl is a gem. And you know her, don't you? Didn't you teach a class for her during your teacher phase?"

"Yes. Sansa took an after school class with me for credits. She was a very good student and fun to talk with. I do remember her. While she was visiting Cersei one holiday, I saw her there. I had been on a summer vacation and stopped in for a bit. Joff had been such an insufferable child and the other two little ones so funny and adorable. Robert wasn't there much and when he was, he just drank and muttered to himself. Sansa and Arya were spending a few weeks there along with Petyr. It was like a never ending pool party from hell. I remember Sansa mainly was stuck playing nanny to the children while Joff tried to take her bikini top off. Arya went from doing pranks with Joff to trying to drown him in the pool. Cersei would get plastered and bitch to Petyr who seemed to be either sleeping or scheming. I never could tell."

Kevan chuckled. "Yes, every summer Petyr would take the girls off Cat's hands. They visited so many homes. I was positive that Petyr used them as an excuse to go gossiping from home to home. He would return to Cat with two relaxed tan girls and a head stuffed full of information to feed that hungry sharp beak. I should warn you that Sansa does have some of her mother's qualities as well as Petyr's. She already gave her best shot at using those skills and found out that we are always a slight step ahead of her. Since then Sansa has worked on the good parts of those talents and has accepted my advice on how to use them."

Lancel grinned. "Don't worry, father. I understand how to treat smart, independent, creative women. You should visit our generation sometime. Women wear really short skirts now, but only if they feel like it, for themselves. They even run companies without needing a man to help them climb the steep steps!" Kevan rolled his eyes. "Thank you for the progressive update. For your information, we have become very progressive here ourselves. Our students share co ed bedrooms now! How about that? And the girls wear the same exact uniforms as the boys. Any skirts or dresses offered may be worn or not by either sex. Whether or not they shave, I don't know or care."

Lancel burst into laughter at the fake insulted tone his father had used. "Oh gods, I forgot how fun we can be together." Kevan smiled and gave a friendly pat to his son's knee. "Well, this is actually a rather delicate matter I must speak to you of. I have not mentioned this to Sansa, I wasn't truly sure how to. In order for Cat to not be able to contest this wedding, I would like for you to consummate it, this day before you leave." 

Polliver stood with his arms crossed as Harold and Bob weaved their way through the decorating strangers to reach him. Harold thrust a small thermos at him and he stared at it suspiciously. "What the fuck is that?" In a stiff voice, Harold replied. "It's a restorative tea from Gilly. She made it for you. Drink it." Polliver shook his head and refused to touch it. "No fucking way! Bitch probably poisoned it!"

Bob spoke as he watched with mild amusement as Harold forced Polliver to hold the thermos. "No, if Gilly poisoned the restorative tea, then Harold would be dead. He had to drink it for breakfast. He seemed to find it delicious. My advice would be to drink the tea she made for you." Polliver glared at the men who simply reflected the counselor back to himself. With a snarl, Polliver opened the thermos and sniffed it. 

"Drink it." With a dirty glance at Harold, Polliver drank the tea and found himself chugging it. "Not bad actually. Damn. I should get her recipe for Hot Pie." Harold ripped the thermos out of the counselor's hand. In a deadly voice, he leaned into Polliver's face to inform him, "It's a house recipe. Not for the likes of you to serve to just anyone." Bob tilted his head a little and gave some consideration to Harold's strange actions.

"Fine, whatever. Get out of my fucking face, you creepy asshole. Now explain to me where the hell my duckling is and why!"

Ramsay and Joff walked leisurely around as they ate their fancy frosted treats stolen from the kitchen. They walked past Harold and Bob saying something to Polliver that made the man look both horrified and resigned. Joff sneered as he licked the green frosting off a cupcake. "My mother used to love a show called Miami Vice. She had old recordings of it and watched them all the time. These two remind me of the characters from that show."

Ramsay looked at Joff as he tried to juggle a chocolate ball that wanted to snuggle on his white shirt. "I remember seeing my father watch that once. You mean the two main detectives? Harold and Bob somehow remind you of those two detectives?" Shaking his head, Joff quickly licked up a wayward strawberry gel that was heading for his sleeve. "No, they remind me of the bad guys that would always come and kill someone the detectives liked. Always creepy as fuck with strange high pitched giggles and sharp dressers."

With a laugh, Ramsay gobbled up a vanilla cupcake before it could escape his clutches. "Nah, I disagree. I think of those two creepy fucks from Matrix that were just killing everyone in their creepy ass path. Till they hit Nero, of course. They had fantastic deaths though." Joff laughed. "Yeah, it's a like a mix of both! Creepy twin fucks always turn out to be evil though!"

Bob's head appeared over Ramsay's shoulder and Harold over Joff's, their winning smiles intact, speaking at the same time. "Hello, gentlemen!" Both boys leaped and their carefully balanced messy treats landed upon their best white uniforms.

"Oh no, poor young lads, you have stained your best outfits for the wedding! It is entirely our fault, we shall tell your angry counselors that." Harold patted Joff's shoulder as they watched Tyrion come storming their way. "Oh wait. I am not sure it is entirely our fault, Bob. They both smell and look delicious, covered in forbidden treats. I am sure they were not allowed in the kitchen for a pre-feast. Dear boy, you might wish to run."

Joff looked with terror at Tyrion and started to run to change, yelling, "I'm going to change right now, Uncle!" Tyrion shook his head and sighed, following after Joff at a much slower pace. Bob squeezed Ramsay's shoulder. "Do you enjoy getting that boy in so much trouble? He can't take it as much as you can. I understand though. We truly do understand the need to dominate, manipulate and control someone."

Ramsay tried to pull away from Bob. "I have to go change too. If you are hunting for new shiny whores to mentor, I'm not interested. Thanks for the offer though." Bob didn't release Ramsay's shoulder and Harold stepped in front of Ramsay. "No, you aren't our type of mentoring student, young man. Our interest in you would be, unique and trust me, you would not wish for it, if you knew. We wish to speak with you, dear boy. We want you to understand that any relationship you have had with Theon has ended."

Bob smiled and spoke carefully, softly into Ramsay's ear.

"No more private meetings with him at all. That means no more letting him beg you for anything. It means no looks, no discussions that aren't related to any other student kind of thing. No smoldering glances, nothing, do not touch him in any way. And if you taunt him like you do Damon for his so called disloyalty to you, we will come speak with you over it. You do not want that. We are not like the rest of the staff, Ramsay. You don't EVER want our detention. We are Theon's new mentors and just wanted you to know that. Oh look, here comes Polliver, guess you best run and change, boy."

Chapter Text

Kevan and Lancel began to make their way down the hill, watching the small bustle growing.

"Gods, so many of our circle are students here, just like history repeating itself, eh, dad? I always suspected that Joff would land here, of course. Cersei smacked me once for suggesting it. Oh, hello there!" Lancel looked at the two girls watching him intently from behind a tree. Kevan snorted and rolled his eyes before calling out politely, "Myranda and Jeyne, you both remember my son, Lancel. Please come forth and say hello if you would like. Then you may go get seated for the wedding."

Myranda and Jeyne both seemed to float over slowly, never losing their stare, making Lancel slightly uneasy. "Hello Lancel. Nice to see you again. You look wonderful, congratulations, Sansa is a very lucky girl." Lancel flushed slightly at Myranda's husky voice. "Uh, thank you, Myranda." Kevan tried to save his son by gesturing Jeyne forward. She inched forward then weaved around Myranda, peeking from under her elbow. "Congratulations, Lancel. You look really nice, Sir."

With a warm smile and a voice so patronizing that it stung Myranda's ears, Lancel spoke. "Hi, Jeyne. Look at you! What a bold look you have now. Talking and walking around, so much better than the last time I saw you. You almost seem natural at it, I am so proud of you. Go, Jeyne, go! Told you before, do you remember? What I tell you every visit that I see you?" Myranda watched in disgust as Jeyne nodded, blushing. "Yes, that you are on my team." Kevan seemed to find nothing wrong with this but Myranda felt a shiver of fear. Lancel's eyes seemed harder for a second as if hoping the girl would show more than her blank adoration. His face seemed to slightly harden as if he just made an awful decision.

Suddenly, Myranda had little interest in ogling Lancel anymore, she wanted to keep her happy feeling. "We need to go find our seating." As they headed off, Myranda warned Jeyne. "I hope you aren't really falling for that patronizing bullshit. He treated you like you were brain dead or-" Jeyne giggled. "He treated me like a feral. Like a dog learning new tricks. I am feral, not stupid, I can see that. But Lancel is still cute." Myranda burst out laughing and shoved Jeyne forward. "Glad to see that my cynicism and Hot Pie's logic finally are sinking into your head. Must be all that hair that was getting in the way before." "Fuck you."

They laughed all the way down the hill until they fell and rolled. In spite of ruined outfits and childish behavior, the two continued to laugh even as they fell in a heap before Raff.

Lancel and Kevan watched the girls disappear over the hill and heard laughter as they must have run down it. "Well, it's flattery, I suppose." Lancel laughed at his father's disgruntled tone. "They are just being silly teenage girls. Isn't that what you are trying to turn them into anyway? If I recall, last time I was here, Myranda didn't hide and giggle, she tried to proposition me to help her escape. As for Jeyne, I must hand it to you, her stage of recovery is quite remarkable."

Kevan smirked. "Yes, it is pretty miraculous. The staff has been really dedicated to rehabilitating her. I remember when Bolton first brought her to me how distraught you were. You wanted so badly to take her, to rehabilitate her yourself. See, this is why I denied you. She is doing so well here but it was a long and dangerous journey. Jeyne has hurt many students and staff during her healing process. She still is only halfway there but I am very pleased with her progress. I am surprised that she is even going to be able to fully attend this large of a wedding with so many strangers about her."

They started down the path to see Raff nearly dragging Jeyne and Myranda off towards the clinic. "Whoops. Looks like Jeyne isn't making it to the wedding, after all. Maybe it's too much for both the girls." Kevan scowled at his son's teasing tone. "They probably swooned over you."

Petyr led Arya by her arm, staying in sight of the wandering staff and decorators. He pretended to admire the decorations as he spoke in a smooth voice. In Arya's mind the snaked around her like the streamers upon lattices. Focus, hear, don't feel. Just hear, listen and report. Spies have no emotional attachment. I can do this. She kept a polite smile on her face or at least she hoped that it is what it looked like. Sandor's shadow stretching nearby gave Arya some degree of comfort.

"You expect me to ask you about school, about your classes or mentor. You expect me to give you a dry lecture or maybe just offer some poisoned nagging for your mother. I will not do these things. I am not your parent. Even once your mother and brothers are dead, which shall be soon, I will not act as your parent. You have made it clear in the past you don't wish to be that close with me. And I have always honored your preferences and space. Like your sister, I have only sought to be a shield between you and your mother. The only parental figure you will have now is Kevan Lannister. Of course, once you marry and he does allow you to leave with Joff, then it will be Cersei that leads you. Don't worry, it will be a lovely sparking leash."

Arya forced a very calm tone, almost indifferent as they strolled. "No,that might be Sansa's fate but not mine. I will find a very useful talent before I turn eighteen. So useful that I can use it as a bargaining chip to release myself from marrying Joff." Petyr smirked. "Well, that is a relieving thought for me. I hope it's a very good talent indeed. What will stop Kevan from simply using your talent and keeping your marriage to Joff? I mean, he is quite well versed in getting students to ply their trades for him. In fact, I would say he has a one hundred percent success rate. What will make you the one great difference to escape him on your terms only?"

Shrugging, Arya replied, "I don't know yet. I have time to find out, I am still learning."

Nodding, Petyr drew her over to a set of chairs where everyone will share a small wedding dinner.

"Here sit, let me rest my old bones. I am not used to this level of heat anymore. There, thank you, young lady. Do you know, Arya, that the setup here is still almost identical to when I was here as a student, then as a teacher? It's kind of strange to see it through older eyes. But do you know what I really see? I see history come to life, I see history repeating itself." Arya looked at Petyr. "Because you were here with my mother, Cersei, Roose and Bethany, right? Sansa told us all about that story. Jeyne fell asleep, Damon just kept nodding blankly and I don't see the big deal. We aren't anything like any of you were. From what I was told, it was way worse then, so how can you compare?"

 Petyr chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "Do you think we all came in as stuffy sneaky adults? No, we were rebellious and angry, ready to tear down the place around Kevan's ears. Oh, if you had seen your mother! She looked like Sansa and was as fearless and ready to rumble as you are. That is why I loved to have the two of you with me all the time, to be honest. The both of you reminded me of the Cat I grew up with in school. Oh the crushes of youth! I had loved your mother the moment I saw her crooked sassy smile. The same one you have, I wish you'd use it instead of that fake thing someone told you to plaster on your face."

Arya gasped a little and for a second she put her hand over her mouth. "What happened to her then?"

Petyr shrugged. "This place happened to her, to all of us. To those before and after us. It will happen to you if you aren't very careful." Arya sat uncomfortably in her chair and tried to remain composed. "I won't let that happen to me." Petyr gave a sympathetic smile as he patted her hand.

"I hope not. Cat was such fire then, we were friends then we became a little more. We were utterly in love just before the circle that snuffed out her fire and turned her to ice. I was not fit to court her and we were caught at a desperate attempt for escape. So we could go away and find love in poverty if need be! Both of us suffered for our actions, so did our accomplices. But Cat suffered the greatest and Kevan saw to it that Cat would never put love above duty again. Except, he truly destroyed any capacity Cat had for mercy, tenderness or love for anyone. She tried, Arya, I watched Cat struggle to love the husband she took to escape the school. I watched her try and love Robb, Sansa, Bran. There was never an attempt to love Jon, of course. And by the time she had you, Cat simply was not in her right mind. The same happened with Rickon." 

"Sansa told me that mother tried to kill me as a baby. That she shielded me from it. She said our mother has spent years trying to kill me." Arya tried to sound strong but her voice had a tiny hitch. Petyr nodded and sighed heavily. "Three months she slept in your room, before your crib. I remember her telling me of it. I remember her begging your aunt to let you live there on a visit when you were both young girls. Your mother wouldn't hear of it and that was that. The best I could do was take you girls during the summer months. I wish I could have done more."

Arya shrugged and fixed her eyes, couldn't afford to wet her makeup. "Doesn't matter now. Past is past. I will say goodbye to my mother tomorrow and it is over. It's clear what happens after the visit. So it doesn't matter what my mother did." With relief, Arya saw Lancel coming down the hill with Kevan. "Oh, the groom is coming. I better make sure my face hasn't melted. Don't want to embarrass Sansa at the alter, right? Excuse me, Uncle Petyr." Arya stood up and walked as fast as she could back towards the stuffed cabin. Petyr watched as Sandor trailed her and he gave a slight frown.

Lancel smiled brightly at his freshly and newly dressed second cousin, Joff. "Nice to see you again. Looks like the school agrees with you, Joff." The boy sneered at first but at a glare from Tyrion, his face turned into a sarcastic smile. "Hello, Lancel. Congratulations." Joff stormed off the second the handshake was over.

Tyrion smiled up at Lancel. "Please excuse the boy, he is a little snake and can't help himself. I for one, am happy to see you! It's been far too long, boy! It's not a fair trade, I tell you. I get your spiffy father and my bratty nephew. Jamie gets my favorite cousin. Unfair, this world of ours!" Lancel gave his uncle a firm hug. "I have missed you too! You must take your next vacation with me then! You can bug your brother, swim and drink with me!" Stannis came over to stiffly offer his congratulations and be taunted into the smallest of smiles by the charming boy.

Chapter Text

"Woman, I am giving you five more minutes then you are going to this wedding naked for all I care! Hurry the fuck up! You own three dresses in one color, how hard is the fucking decision?" Gregor fumed, pacing the furry free living room that was looking more like a real home each day.

They have taken to living in Hellhouse, sick of watching Hot Pie, Stannis and Tyrion measure their cabins. They started to move their furniture into the areas that are safe and it wasn't a pretty look. Loras and Sansa had been putting the last of the tiles down in the bathroom that day and were properly horrified when they came out for a break. "Oh gods, Sansa, do you see the cowboy lamp? The one on the huge tan stallion? Is Gregor keeping his torture tools here now?" "Loras, sweetness, close your eyes, you don't want to see Unella's couch. I feel my virginity returning, I feel YOUR virginity returning."

Unella and Gregor have decided they would need to take a trip into this town for furniture next weekend. They weren't looking forward to it since the professors had leaped upon it, as had the whole damned school. Since Hot Pie wasn't cooking, no deliveries were ordered because no one knew how to but him. The staff needed to go to the grocery store which then prompted the entire student body to howl they needed the field trip. Now another reason they needed to waste money in town came floating down the staircase.

"It's the damned pregnancy! I can't fit the dresses over my stomach anymore! Have to wear my one sun dress. And I'm down to either my bunny slippers or my sneakers for shoes. My feet keep swelling up! We have to stop at a maternity store this weekend too. Or you'd better learn to sew." Gregor shut his eyes and yelled. "Do you have a single domestic bone in your body? Even Sandor can fucking sew! You can't sew or hem or cook and I saw how you swept the floor the other day! If you always just sweep shit down into the cellar stairs, it will go from basement to land fill!"

"That's because I have no dustpan or brush for it! Asked you a thousand times to get them for me, but by the time you'll ever remember it, I'll be too big to bend over anyway! Don't know why we are forced to go to this thing. It's just more cruelty on Kevan's part! Like making the next in line for execution watch the death before his own. Fine, I'm as ready as I can get." Gregor watched as Unella came downstairs. Her blond hair wasn't slicked back, in fell in slight waves just past her chin. Light makeup defined her face, made it slightly softer and the dress had straps, cleavage and was violet, not gray.

"You look pretty like that." He uttered that accusingly as his eyes narrowed. Unella glared back and retorted, "You look like a gangster going to his wedding. Tell me you won't wear that to our wedding. You look entirely too fancy." Gregor sneered as he grabbed her arm to drag her out of the house and towards the wedding area. "Lady, I am going to wear ass-less chaps and feathery nipple clamps to our wedding if you don't get moving."

As they headed towards the small decorated garden area, Unella muttered, "I don't know why you waited for me if it irritates you to do so. I certainly didn't ask you to escort me." They rounded the path past the cafeteria and the scents caught Unella's nose. Suddenly, she changed direction and headed for the kitchen, nearly salivating. Gregor grabbed her and wrestled her away. "That is why I waited for you. Can't afford the cost from Kevan if you eat all the wedding food and the staff making it."

Loras never managed to speak or greet Lancel before it was time for the wedding. First Petyr got in the fucking way and he didn't dare try to cut in on that creepy fucker. He saw his chance at one point but when he leaped, he encountered the only other creepy things here. Harold was smiling, touching his shoulder, Bob came out of thin air behind Loras. "Dear boy, before you try and get an autograph with the rock star, have you seen our lovely Myranda? She should be here." Stammering, his skin trying to invert itself, he told them he hadn't seen her since breakfast.

They moved on but Lancel was being led towards the makeshift alter by his father and uncle. Tyrion was to be Lancel's best man and Petyr was walking Sansa down the aisle. Loras hated how wrong all of it was, so fucking wrong. Lancel would never wish a drunken bystander to violence like Tyrion to be his best man, relation or not. He also should be marrying his true love, who needed no one to walk him down the fucking aisle. Forcing a smile onto his face, Loras turned to alert the bride and her maid of honor that it was time. He offered his arm woodenly to Arya, who awkwardly took it. "I'll lead you to the alter, show you where to stand."

I will imagine all of them dead, choking on their blood, Lancel so proud of me, ready to marry me. Loras smiled and twinkled from that moment on.  

Polliver blocked the milling twins and growled out, "I need to get ducklings sitting and calm. Stop freaking everyone out and find a place to sit or lurk from a tree or something!" Harold started to attempt to walk through Polliver but Bob held out his hand. "You are missing a duckling, counselor." Polliver shook his head. "No, I am missing two ducklings, Myranda and Jeyne. Both are in the clinic and will remain there until after the ceremony. They were too high strung, Raff gave them something to relax. They relaxed too much." Harold sighed and rotated his neck. "Fine. The girl's actions matter to us as her mentors. You should have texted us or told us."

"Duly noted. Now please, would you stop bugging the kids now?"

Bob smiled and nodded. "Of course. Thank you for your help, Polliver." He waited until the counselor started after Ramsay, who was attempting to sneak away, before turning to Harold. "What is it with you today? This behavior is suspect, Harold. Is it what I think it is? Really, is it?" The two men stared at each other in silence, reflecting vague twin features of concern. Cursing, Harold stormed off and Bob started to laugh, unable to help himself as he watched his partner storm his way up the hill. Bob didn't notice how everyone stared at him in unease. Joff pointed then yelled to Ramsay, who was helped into his seat by a baton, "See! I told you, high pitched giggle just like those creepy killers!"

Gilly was just finishing the last of the laundry. She turned the iron on to heat up and was spreading one of Kevan's shirts out when the door slammed. Looking up, Gilly watched as Harold stormed towards her. Without more than a slight blink, Gilly looked at the man while he slammed the thermos down hard on the table. "Polliver drank your damned tea. Do not go around just giving your tea to someone like him! He doesn't deserve help with his restoration issues! It's mine, don't go offering your tea unless you mean it! What kind of heartless beast does that?"

"I wasn't aware it would upset you, Sir. I can make another kind of tea to offer others. Would you like some of that restorative tea now, Sir? Harold, you are looking strange again. You must attend a wedding, you can't do so in that state of distress. Harold?" He grabbed Gilly and forced a deep kiss upon her and came back with a bloody tongue. Then she cracked her calloused hand hard upon his cheek before speaking. "That was rude. You need to ask a girl before kissing her." Harold grinned, licking the blood that tried to escape his mouth. "I apologize for my hasty actions. May I kiss you?" Gilly smiled politely. "No. It would not be proper to kiss other staff members."

"You will kiss me, have sex with me. You will date me. You will marry me if I want. Or I might just kill you." Gilly patted Harold's shoulder as he loomed over her, breathing heavily. "I am very flattered, Harold. And you are quite a catch but I must decline. I cannot date, kiss, have sex with or marry a staff member without Kevan's permission, the same as you. We are constrained by rules, I am afraid. Our passions must wait. Let me get you some ice for that cheek, Sir." Harold grabbed Gilly's braid and yanked it back, searching her stone cold eyes. "I will get Kevan's permission. Then you will." Gilly looked patiently back up at Harold. 

"I will, what? Oh, I see. You think if you order me to pleasure you, I will. As if you are ordering food or cleaning? No, Harold. If you gain permission from Kevan, if I hear it myself, then you can ask me, perhaps. If you tell me, I will say no, then I guess you will risk Kevan's angst for turning me into an ottoman. And I have doubts that kissing or dating an ottoman will be as interesting." Harold thrust his face in hers, letting his sunglasses fall to the ground, Gilly smiled wider. "Nice eyes, why do you hide them so much? Is that why they are so light, sensitive to the sun, hmm?"

Almost pleading, Harold growled into her features. "Why won't you be scared or let me just groom you a little? Why won't you play my games or take my bait, ever? You are driving me fucking insane!" Gilly gave a tiny laugh. "Now, Harold, how can can I drive you to where you already are?" Harold thrust her away and stormed out of the house, yelling over his shoulder. "I am getting permission. You will date me until I get over this stupid obsession." As he slammed out the door, he heard Gilly's polite voice follow him. "You can't order a romance like a ham sandwich, Harold!"

After locking the girls in with Hot Pie, Raff came to sit next to Polliver just as Petyr started to walk Sansa down the aisle. "I hope you made sure those girls are tied down," Polliver hissed. Raff shook his head slightly. "I made sure that I cleaned out Hot Pie's clinic room and the bathroom of anything they could cause chaos with then locked every single door. They are watching the wedding out the window and eating snacks. When I left the girls were half dozing, only Hot Pie is really watching, I think. I will bring them some food right after the ceremony."

Casting a doubtful eye at Raff, Polliver muttered, "You better be right. I don't need a high as a kite Feral and Whore vaudeville show while Kevan is here. Bad enough the creepster twins are making the kids jumpy. And me!"

Hot Pie was sitting in his wheelchair at the window, eating the cookies Raff left him. Myranda and Jeyne were each in a chair at the window, but were half lidded, mouths slightly open, eyes glazed. "Sansa looks like a princess! They gave her a princess dress!" Rolling his eyes, Hot Pie glanced at Jeyne. "No, honey. What Joff wears as a punishment is more of a princess dress. Sansa is wearing a wedding dress like most girls do, white and fancy with lace. I like that crazy thing they did with her hair though."

Myranda made a gagging sound. "Look at them all. The perfect pretty girl is marrying the perfect pretty boy. And how much in love they look! All fake bullshit. Sansa is as much of a whore as me, she just does it fancier." Hot Pie grinned at the bitter girl. "Wow. Jealous much?" "It's not jealousy, it's disgust." Jeyne just watched as they held hands before Kevan, everyone smiling, shining and lovely. "A princess marrying a prince. It's really pretty. Will Unella and Gregor be like that?" Both her friends burst into laughter. "No, Unella and Gregor don't know how to fake romance very well." Jeyne shrugged at Myranda's comment and watched the lovely couple kiss.

They watched everyone clap for the couple who were being led towards tables and chairs. Everyone followed them and then Hot Pie gasped. "Is that a baking staff, caterers? Did they use MY KITCHEN? MY SUPPLIES? Oh my gods, you fucking betraying cocksucking staff! How dare they?" Myranda grinned. "Wow. Jealous much?"

 

Chapter Text

Kevan handed out disposable cameras to the students whom were overjoyed. Damon, Arya and Loras all got pictures of the wedding guests plus the bride and groom. Joff got a shot of Polliver eating a deviled egg while talking. He got a pretty impressive picture of his middle finger and Ramsay was taking dick picks in the bathroom. The staff all used their phones and so did Petyr to get pictures of the bride and groom. True to his word, Petyr did not do more than save the pictures.

With a loving arm draped over her graceful shoulder, Lancel whispered into Sansa's lovely shell ear. "My father wishes us to consummate our wedding before I leave today." Sansa gave a small smile as if he said something amusing then whispered back. "Loras will rip out my endocrine system."

A charming chuckle came out of Lancel's curved lips and his eyes were full of warm amused promise. "I will tell him myself. Before I go, I am going to gather my disciples, all of you need to hear from your loving leader. My superstars are dimming, I need to remind you all why you shine." The blush was real and so was the sudden flare in her eyes. Sansa spoke in a hush. "We shine for you, for the other stars that must be saved. We shine to give light to the rotted darkness. We are the hands of justice that will soon be slick with the blood of our enemies."

Lancel kissed her forehead and gave her a brilliant smile that she returned. He fed her a little cake and she did the same back as Kevan watched happily. Lancel looked over at Unella and Gregor. "I hear congratulations are in order! A marriage of your own and twins! How wonderful for you both. I never would have thought you two would be a match. I can see it now, you both wear the same expressions." Gregor and Unella were trying to smile politely but both looked as if something were caught in their throats.

"Thank you, Lancel. We were kind of surprised by it ourselves." Gregor had to answer because in spite of the awkward moment, the damned woman couldn't stop eating. She ate her plate of food, his food went down her gullet next then everything within arms reach. Stannis, Tyrion, Polliver and Raff all sat at the next table over and glared with forks and knives, ready to defend their food. Gregor sighed and slid a plate of tiny pastries towards her as Unella started to eye a chubby waiter. He had to physically restrain her when Sansa was presented with a small plate of lemon cakes.

Kevan glared at Gregor then sniffed and spoke with patronizing understanding. "Gregor, I must give my time and suggestions as a fellow parent and former husband. The woman needs more food than you are providing. Take some extra care and cost at the grocery store when you all go. Unella will crave certain foods incessantly. Please, feel free to come speak with me at the house for any advice and suggestions during the next few difficult learning phases." Gregor looked as if he were choking again and Unella started to giggle slightly, even as his hand wrapped tight around the back of her neck.

Sandor gave a small snort of amusement and Gregor let go of Unella's neck to turn and threaten his brother. Petyr got slightly nudged by the giants arguing and he wandered over to the next table. He ignored the just audible groan of the school staff and sat down next to Stannis, who nearly sat in Tyrion's lap. Petyr smirked, noting the two empty bottles of champagne near the professors. "Drinking in good health or just the normal upkeep for your nerves, gentlemen?" Clearing his throat, Tyrion peered over Stannis at Petyr. "We are drinking in mourning of our lemonade, we are drinking to the good health of the wedded couple and for our nerves."

Petyr stared at the drunk glum men and decided he didn't want to hear their woes of lemonade. His eyes landed on a new target and he saw how Raff grimaced at the eye contact. With true glee, he smoothly greeted the nurse. "Dickon Tarly! It has been some time since I have laid eyes upon you, young man. How have you been?" Jaw tight, eyes hard, Raff slowly spoke. "I don't go by that name anymore. You know that. Please call me Raff." Petyr gave a very dramatic look of apology. "Forgive me, I am getting older and so forgetful these days. Too many secrets to keep through the years and I am starting to drop a few memories here and there."

Polliver snorted. "You were still teaching here the year Raff showed up. Hard to believe you could forget that." Petyr nodded. "True, but if you recall, he was still called by his proper name while I was here. I left when Stannis came to teach in my place that very same year." Tyrion spoke up while Raff smoldered Petyr with his eyes. "Sir, when the boy came here as a student, he wished more than anything to deny his family, his father, as you very well know. Kevan gave him the promise to legally change his name when he became staff. Which you are well aware of, Petyr. Stop stirring the pot, if you please and leave Raff alone."

"Again, my apologies, uh, Raff. Well, even back then I understood why you hated being a Tarly so much. The pressures your father put upon your family were extreme. Even my good friend Cat Stark would hear tales and severely disapprove of his parental treatment. And Cat was never a mother with an overly loving touch so that was saying something. Randal Tarly couldn't stand not having everyone reflect his mirror very perfectly. His wife fell in line, as did his daughter, through beatings, starvation, whatever means needed. You fell in line until you couldn't any longer. And then there was the tragedy of your little brother, Sam. The one who Randal just couldn't force into his image and had to be cast away."

Stannis turned to stiffly confront Petyr as Raff looked ready to attack the man. "Take your vile gossip elsewhere! Go spill your venom on Harold and Bob until they turn you into a unique piece of furniture! Go whisper to Unella until she runs out of food and devours you! Be gone!"  Rather drunkenly, Stannis used his napkin to try and shoo Petyr away. Raff leaned forward a bit with a cutting smirk on his face and Polliver rolled his eyes, muttering, "Great, here we go again." "That's okay. Thank you, Stannis, Tryion, but I can handle my former teacher who wants to be a cunt. Yes, a cunt and I can call you that now, can't I, Petey, Teachey Petey? My father was a cunt too. Not shifty and slimy like you but he was a real true blue cunt of the highest order."

Petyr sneered. "Ah, there is the young man I remember. So pretty, rich and privileged and yet the cruelest student I had seen in some time. So stuffed full of bitter anger at your father that you not only raped your way through several posh clubs but tried to blow up your own school. Heathers, that is what your nickname was. I kind of like it better than any other name you've gone by. I always thought Gregor was right on the nose with his names. Tell me, do you still believe that your father killed Sam or do you ever entertain thoughts that he got away somehow?"

Raff glared at Petyr.

"I never had a relationship with Sam. My father didn't allow me much time to know my sister or brother. All I remember was a fat little boy afraid of sports, horses and guns. I heard my father beating him the night he went missing. I was high as a fucking kite and heading out to another club, unable to give a shit about anything else. And it never occurred to me to shield the little kid because we were not brought up to challenge our father. All I know is when I came home the next day, Sam was gone. We were told he ran away. But the way mother cried, how quickly the search for my brother was called off, we knew. And the guilt was the worst part. I came here a few months after that and I already couldn't remember what Sam had looked like but the anger and guilt stayed. I spent fucking YEARS with Unella trying to get over the guilt of never helping my own brother. Don't you come here and try to pull it back into my head because you are fucking bored."   

Polliver pulled Raff out of his seat. "Let's go check on the clinic crazies, okay? Ignore Petyr, he isn't worth getting in trouble over." Petyr smirked as the counselor tried coaxing the rattled nurse away. Stannis glared at Petyr. "You just have to poke at everyone's sore spots, don't you?"

Lancel wandered amongst the students for a moment, smiling and greeting each politely. He shook Ramsay's hand and said something. In his usual manner, Ramsay sneered and seemed to make a comeback that made Lancel chuckle. After he moved on, Ramsay goaded Joff into helping him in a commando stealth challenge, to whack only Petyr with food. Damon heard this and whispered it on to Arya who truly couldn't resist. No one noticed Lancel disappear when a food tornado suddenly descended wetly upon Petyr. Sansa laughed out loud then clapped her hands over her mouth as if shocked at herself. That sent the entire staff into gales of laughter.

Raff and Polliver were pointing at Petyr laughing, Stannis and Tyrion were chuckling, all of them enjoying the sight of a frosted, stained Petyr. No one saw Loras head in the same direction as Lancel. Harold and Bob were smiling and Kevan was unable to fully gain his stern look. "Forgive my students, Sir. On rare occasions of extreme merriment, we are forcibly reminded that the students are indeed just teenagers. It seems you were the unfortunate target of their excited natures." Petyr tried to regain his composure while seething. Unella couldn't help herself and rushed over to start plucking chunks of chocolate cake off him. "Oh my gods, he smells delicious!"

Kevan called over in a rather strained voice, "Gregor, if Unella starts eating our guests, it is coming out of both your accounts!"

Chapter Text

"You are going to do WHAT? He can't make you do that, what is this, the middle ages? Is he going to look on the sheets after for bloodstains? I can assure you that Sansa is no pure virgin! She wasn't faking on top of Damon!" Lancel put his hand over Loras's hissing mouth and leaned into him, pressing them both into a tree.

"Hush. It's meant as an insult to Cat and a test of loyalty for Sansa. My father knows Sansa has no interest in me, he knows I have no interest in her. That we are merely doing our duty. Sansa can say no, he would let her, but she would lose something in his trust. And in my father's mind, it is unthinkable that I would say no. Would you have me raise his suspicions of me when we are so close?"

Loras waited until the hand went away then he pouted. "I would have you not sleep with Sansa. Can't you two just make porn noises and bounce on the mattress?" Lancel chuckled and hugged the sullen pretty thing. "Do you think Kevan Lannister doesn't have cameras or wouldn't stoop to having one of the twins at my door? Or hell, with my luck, in my closet." Shuddering, Loras muttered, "That's disgusting and horrible. I hope none of those things are true. Will you think of me while you do it?"

Kissing Loras deeply until the boy was breathless, he whispered, "Of course I will. And later I will meet you in the bunker." The pout increased. "That is for all of us, I want to see you alone for a few minutes." "Sweetheart, that is what we are doing right now." "Oh, so we have to time to have sex, maybe walk and talk for a bit after? No, we don't. But I shouldn't complain, I got a rushed fuck in a museum restroom stall, Sansa gets to marry you and have romantic sex too."

Lancel gave a sigh at the cutting petulant voice. He let go of Loras with a look of hurt.

"Maybe sending you here was a mistake. Because the Loras I fell in love with was the one who cast aside his old petty personality. I fell in love with a boy who believed in our cause. Who agreed to sacrifice everything, the same as Ramsay, Sansa and myself did! I have ten girls, abused worse than you could ever have been, that are terrified of men and yet, they have more faith in me than my own lover. Where have I failed you? Shall I have Jaime work his lawyerly magic and pull you out back into your grandmother's arms? Are you breaking up with me, Loras? Is that was this is? Because to abandon our cause is to abandon me."

Loras shook his head frantically. "No, no, you are not doing that to me. Don't always turn it that way, it isn't disloyal to be pissed, doesn't mean I don't love you." Without another word, Lancel started to walk away. Swearing, Loras chased after him and grabbed his arm to halt him. Seeing the tears on Lancel's face made Loras frantic. "No, I'm sorry, please! I just love you so much. You know that I am loyal to our cause and to you, it's just upsetting me! I love you, please, don't ever think I don't! Don't send me back, let me help finish our mission. I'm sorry, I won't fail you, you know I won't."

Polliver and Raff were in a more cheerful frame of mind as they headed for the clinic after the frosted downfall of Petyr. "Uh oh, looks like we may have trouble in the clinic. Yeah, I think I'm seeing Hot Pie waving a bed pan in rage from the window at the caterers. Maybe we should just go hide and let Unella find them all later? Because you know if Hot Pie is riled, the girls are probably riled up now too." They entered the room in time to see Jeyne's arms reach out of the vent above the tall cabinet to help Myranda up into the vent.

Rushing over, Polliver managed to yank Myranda back into the room and he saw Jeyne shake a small fist at him. Raff looked up and cooed, "Jeynie, that isn't a very safe or good idea. If you want to leave your visit with Hot Pie, you can just use the door and go. It's all over, Lancel and Sansa went up to the house. Petyr is hiding with his staff while they clean their mess up to leave. Come out of there, silly." Jeyne the feral wanted to argue the point but a Person doesn't leave a room by heating vent. Raff wasn't prepared for her to fly out and land upon him.

Staggering to regain his balance, Raff grinned at the foolish girl. "Alright, silly and adorable wins you points this time. Get off me and on your own two feet, please." Jeyne giggled and let him set her down to the ground. Polliver smacked Myranda's head but lightly. "How do you fancy you were getting out of there? You have no idea where to go in there. Good thing I know that Raff drugged you, otherwise I'd have to wonder about your mind. What makes you think any idea that Jeyne has would be a reasonable and good one?"

"TRAITORS! I WILL PISS IN THE LEMONADE! LYING SACKS OF SHIT, I WILL FIND AND MURDER THE TICKLER AND SERVE HIM TO ALL OF YOU!"

Myranda grimaced. "That is what made me follow Jeyne into the vents. His ranting is giving us headaches. He is a little mad at you guys for bringing in caterers."

To Polliver's amazement, the bedpan suddenly cruised right past his head and hit the wall hard. Turning, Polliver saw that his faithful follower was in full mutiny, his eyes blazing with outrage and hurt. Raff raised an eyebrow. "Wow, I've never seen him this pissed." Hot Pie's face was brick red, his teeth showing and he was sweating, fists clenched. "Hot Pie, I need to check your blood pressure, buddy. I know you are angry at us, at Polliver and you can talk about it as soon as you are in the bed. I need you to lay down. Are you in pain? You look like you might be in some pain."

"TRAITORS! BETRAYAL! YOU REPLACED ME!"

Polliver started to circle around Hot Pie and Raff shoved the two girls towards the door to leave. "See Gregor about getting some food then stay at the dorm until guests are gone." Raff moved closer to Polliver and murmured. "No matter what he says, don't get upset, don't raise your voice at him. He's beyond stressed, his pain level, his blood pressure, it's all spiking. The boy is not