389 THE CITADEL PART FIVE

King Robert Baratheon, the First of his Name, ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, didn't bother pulling out of his dead wife's handmaiden as he blew his fifth load into her tonight. He had been pent up for quite some time while dealing with the funerals, and the burial rites, and all the pomp and ceremony that he hated.

The only real satisfaction he felt was when he told Tywin Lannister to take his veiled threats of calling in his loans and to shove them up his ass. If he still did so, Robert would declare him a traitor for taking advantage of the queen's death and he would confiscate his seat in Casterly Rock and would claim the gold mines in the name of the kingdom.

The old man called his bluff and handed him papers he already sent to the Iron Bank to reclaim the loans on his behalf, so now his head decorated the Red Keep's highest tower. It was just unfortunate Jaime Lannister was a sworn knight in the Kingsguard and he couldn't rule in his father's stead. Plus, he was too devastated by his sister's death to do more than mope about it.

So, it fell to the one that Tywin hated the most in his life, his deformed dwarf of a son named Tyrion Lannister. The half-man laughed and laughed, pledged to call off the debts if Robert gave him all of Petyr Baelish's brothels, and the king magnanimously did do, with the Hand of the King's blessing.

Jon Arryn had been wondering what to do with them all and having an expert in whores like Tyrion run them, it would keep all the women working to a much higher standard. The legitimate taxes paid on the income was going to get the crown out of debt in only a few years, since there were so many men making use of them.

Luckily, they had recovered much of Littlefinger's ill-gotten gains and would be using them to placate the Iron Bank and stop them from calling in their own loans that they had made to the crown on Littlefinger's behalf. Petyr had taken out loans for everything, from buying food to paying salaries, while pocketing the actual funds the kingdom produced.

It would have been a scheme that would have completely bankrupted the kingdom in about ten years and there would have been no way to recover from it, except to borrow even more money. That scared both Jon Arryn and Robert Baratheon into appointing several people to become the Masters of Coin, so they could keep the spending in check.

Robert still wanted to spend money on lavish things, and he did, only he was curbed by Jon giving him a budget. He could have more whores but less wine, or more wine and whores but less tournaments. So, the king made the decision that Cercei's handmaiden, a gorgeous redheaded woman named Senelle, was going to be the sole woman in his bed and he would spoil her instead of spreading the money around.

Senelle, one of the many planted people that had been placed in the capital city by Olenna Tyrell herself, loved this turn of events. She had never thought she would ever become close enough to the king himself to have both his ear to whisper in and his cock in her mouth, both of which she could use to sway the man towards being favorable with The Reach and House Tyrell.

Also, the man adored the generous mounds of breasts she had successfully hidden inside her handmaiden finery. Robert's first sight of them had made him thank the old gods and the new for the gifts, which pleased her to no end. She had barely been out of his bed since that first time and she had no plans to leave it.

Despite him being a large man, and quite round in the middle, he was a great lover and could give Senelle some of the best rolls in the sack she ever had. It made her wonder why the dead queen was such a bitch to him when she could have gotten everything she wanted by just pretending to like him. It took almost no effort and it kept the man happier than he ever was.

Yes, Senelle thoroughly enjoyed being King Robert's woman on the side while he looked for a 'proper' woman to become his new queen. The best part about the whole thing? He had her and he was in no rush to search harder than asking if any of the lords in Westeros had anyone even close to his age and were unattached.

*

Eddard Stark, or Ned to his friends and family, groaned as the kitchen matron sucked on Little Ned as if it was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. It had started as a random meeting in the Great Hall after one of the evening get-togethers and she had approached him to ask how he enjoyed the small changes she had made to the dishes that evening.

Ned had praised her for them, since they were particularly tasty, and had made the ale taste even better than usual. He also may have partaken more than his usual fare, since his lady wife was still not speaking to him or staying in his bed.

When the handsome woman's hand had taken his in thanks for praising her, it was the first sign of affection Ned had experienced in longer than he cared to admit. He couldn't resist the urge to lean forward in a clear invitation, his eyes telling her he wanted her, and she leaned in the rest of the way and captured his lips.

Ned groaned again as he unloaded his first shot into her mouth, which she sucked down without question, then she was on top of him and he felt the tightest warmth and wetness he had ever felt. He kissed her deeply, surprising her, and rolled her over to pound her into the bed that hadn't had a couple in it in far too long.

Just like his friend Robert, he didn't bother pulling out when he let his second load go. He filled the kitchen matron's willing entrance to the brim and kept going. Once inside of her was not going to be enough, not after so long without any relief. Once Ned had crossed that line, he was fully across it and wasn't going to disappoint her or himself by not performing at his best.

There was a reason Catelyn had four children like clockwork, pretty much every two years, which was enough to give birth, recover, and she became pregnant again. Ned had a lot more in common with Robert than a sense of duty and desire to keep the people they loved safe.

After the third time, Ned finally let his exhaustion take over and collapsed beside the thoroughly fucked woman. The look of bliss on her face was worth the effort he had gone through to put it there. But, and this was a huge but, Ned immediately remembered Jon Snow's words about how he could have been the kitchen matron's son and no one would have questioned how that came to be.

The funny thing was, no one was going to question it this time, either. Ned didn't bother trying to caution the woman about keeping it secret, since they had not been alone when they met and there were more than a few others around to see them leave together.

His lady wife was going to find out about it soon enough, if she didn't know about it already, and he would have to deal with it like he always had. He would pretend he did nothing wrong and no one would blame him for it. Jon's words replayed in his head and he had to reluctantly agree. Ned was the Lord of Winterfell and no one would say a thing if the kitchen matron had a child for him.

*

Balon Greyjoy was balls deep inside one of the best wenches he'd had in a fortnight. They had been fortunate to catch one of the fishing villages on Bear Island just after a storm and none of the defenders had been prepared for a raid from the Ironborn.

It was a bit unfortunate that his men had killed off all of the men in the village and hadn't kept the younger ones and the boys to send off to Essos to sell in the slave markets there. It was practically free money, since they were disposing of them anyway, so they could claim all the women for themselves.

He would never admit to having anything in common with the Wildlings beyond the wall, even though they did exactly the same thing, and usually in the same way. They raped and claimed women to add to their people and it didn't matter what their backgrounds were. The pillaging of the villages was just a nice bonus, since Ironborn usually lived simple lives.

“I don't regret removing your filthy people from this world.” A young man's voice whispered in his ear, then his head rolled off of his body and onto the floor. Balon's unblinking eyes stared at the boy wearing a uniform of deep blue and grey, his own sword in the boy's hand, and it dripped with his blood. “I'm sorry the storm they used as cover had slowed my own ship down by several hours, Lady Mormont.”

If Balon had still been alive, he would have laughed. He hadn't asked who he was taking as his woman and just picked the heartiest one out of all the women in the ship's hold.

“Who... who are...” The woman coughed and wiped off the blood that had splashed onto her face.

“That doesn't matter right now.” He said and kicked Balon's body off of her and tossed aside the sword, then he placed a gentle and reassuring hand on her shoulder, making her feel instantly better. “What does matter is that by their own laws, as soon as he laid with you and claimed you for himself, you became Queen of the Iron Islands.”

The woman sucked in a sharp breath and stared at the boy. He couldn't possibly mean...

“Please wait here while my men and I take care of the rest of the filth.” He said and let her shoulder go to point at a fancy dress hung on a rack and a large tub of hot water that she hadn't noticed before. “While I clean up the rest of your kingdom, please clean yourself up. Your lady daughter will be brought here by my apprentices to help you.”

Lady Mormont sat up and looked at the well-dressed young man. Now that she had calmed down, she noticed how young he was and she was sure he hadn't had his tenth nameday yet. “You...”

“None will be left alive, my lady. You have my vow.” Jon Snow saluted her, a grim expression on his face, then he did an about face and swiftly left the room.

She sat there and stared at the doorway, both with disbelief and with only a little regret. Yes, she had been kidnapped while touring one of their smaller villages after the storm ravaged it, and her guards had been murdered. But, this turn of events was nothing but a huge boon for her and her people that constantly struggled to survive on Bear Island.

With a few calming breaths, she stood up and pushed off her torn small clothes. The brute hadn't bothered to remove them and only made a hole bid enough for him to fit inside, which she had to admit, wasn't as big as her dead husband's and was not anywhere near as satisfying.

The thought made her smile before she could stop herself and she went to the tub and quickly started to wash herself, especially down there. She would need to be careful for the next few weeks and would watch for signs of being with child. If she was, then a few well placed hits would take care of it. If it was up to her, no Ironborn would ever enter the world ever again.

“MOTHER!” Her daughter's yell reached her as the room's door opened.

Lady Mormont turned away from the tub and embraced her daughter. She stood there and let the girl cry as she looked at the two very young girls that wore similar uniforms. Before she could ask who they were, the shorter one whirled around and unsheathed her sword as a man charged down the hallway.

Surprisingly, despite him being three times her size, he was no match for the girl's skills. She avoided his swinging weapon with ease and she carved the poor soul up like a fresh roast. His head quickly joined Balon's on the floor and she flicked her blade to clear it of blood and sheathed it.

“Well done, Arya.” The blonde girl beside her praised. “There's not a drop of blood on you.”

Lady Mormont successfully hid her shock at hearing who the girl was. The missing little wolf, Arya Stark! Why was she with a band of... who where these people? She didn't recognize the uniform or could guess where they came from.

“Thanks, Dany.” Arya said and beamed a smile at her.

That was when Lady Mormont noticed her daughter was already dressed in different clothing than she had before and remembered she should dress as well. A whispered plea for help to her daughter, had her and the other two girls help finish clean her up and she dressed in some finery that she had never seen or felt before.

It was such a nice dress that Lady Mormont didn't question how it could be in her size and fit her so well. All of her clothes did so and she accepted it, because she was used to it. After a brush of her hair, which Dany and her daughter helped braid to keep her long hair out of the way, the four of them left the room where she had become the owner of the Iron Islands.

Lady Mormont walked with her head held high and knew that the tragedy this could have been, was going to become a huge boon for her and her people. They were of the North and they would always survive, no matter what.

*

It didn't take long to clear away the capital of the Iron Islands, as if a sparse town could be considered so important. It was just where the Lord Reaper of the Pyke lived. The campaign to clear all of the people from the Iron Islands was going to take quite some time, even if Jon Snow made it sound like a simple thing.

However, it was only Lady Mormont that had heard his pledge, so he could do it all by himself without having to continually put his men in danger. It had only been a week since Olenna Tyrell had given him a ship to command, with a strong group of soldiers, and it had taken that long to reach his destination.

The only good part about catching them at the end of a raid, was that all of them were home and their ships were easily lit on fire from a distance. By the time Jon's ship made landfall, none of the Ironborn noticed them and were slaughtered as they tried to fight the many fires, which the Highgarden soldiers let burn.

Jon made sure to tell his ship's captain he was going to quietly scout the other harbours for the next few hours and that he was in charge of the men as they finished clearing out the town of the Ironborn scum. The man smiled, baring all of his teeth, and nodded. He knew what they were capable of, if left alive, and he had no problem ending them permanently.

Jon clapped him on the shoulder and slipped away, used his clairvoyance power to peer through the fog at the next harbour, then stepped through the vision to appear there. A few brief applications of heat vision on the canvas sails of the ships, had them all light up the night as they went afire like dry kindling.

He used that strategy to draw everyone out and then slaughtered them all. Using telepathy, he easily found out who were actual Ironborn and who were kidnapping victims. He gave the victims the choice of staying or leaving, returning home, or going somewhere else to live their lives. It wasn't until he mentioned Lady Mormont was now the Queen of the Iron Islands, that most chose to stay.

With that as their main option, Jon had more work to do to ensure he didn't destroy everything. He didn't want them living in poverty, not after being saved. The surprises came when all of the women chose to let their kids be sacrificed. They had learned at the hands of their fathers, to rape and pillage, and they didn't want anything to do with them.

That made Jon's work a little easier and he continued to jump around to all the harbours along the islands, spending only a few minutes to remove the raiding ships and left the fishing ones, then he slaughtered all of the men and boys. The irony was not lost on him that he was doing the same thing as them to save their victims from them.

The trade off was that a lot of the women and teenage girls were just as fanatically devoted to the Ironborn way of living as the men were, so they had to go as well. As per Jon's pledge, none of the Ironborn would be allowed to live. They had gone too far this time and they would no longer plague the world with their crimes.

Jon paused his raiding just long enough to step back to the capital and spend a short time with Arya and Dany, to tuck them into bed, and he gave each a kiss on the forehead. He thanked them for everything they did to help him today and both girls blushed at the praise. A sleep spell later, and Jon went back to work. It was going to be a long night and he was determined to see it through by the dawn's early light.

He also had to pay a visit to a few Greyjoys and their sympathizers spread around the world to deal with them, too. None of them would be allowed to live long enough to contemplate revenge for their people's deaths.

Jon also made it a point to burn every single corpse, as a final insult, just so they couldn't be returned to the water they worshipped. Stopping them from being raised as wights was just a bonus.