20 Good Men Hold No Secrets

—The Eyrie, whispered the imp impishly with a coy grin on his stupidly attractive and malformed face. —They say it's impregnable.

Ramsay flexed his shirtless muscles on horseback and grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. —Give me twenty good men and some climbing spikes. I'll impregnate the bitch.

—Ooh, I like you, cooed the dwarfish hunk of sexy man-meat as his eyes thoroughly inspected this tall, dark, and handsome Bolton lad.

. . .

Ned sat honorably in his chair and stroked his beard wisely. He was an honorable man.

—Stannis, said Ramsay, —is the most singularly uninspiring man in Westeros. It would be wise to allow Joffrey to rule, with you at his side.

—Stannis is the true-born heir. The Baratheon dynasty is ages old and beyond reproach. Baratheons have ruled this kingdom since the first men were only boys. Joffrey is an ill-begotten little bastard born of incest and no king of mine. The realm will burn under Joffrey's rule. Stannis is a man of justice, honor, and peace.

—I see, said Ramsay seeing. —So what did you call me here for?

—My Lady Stoneheart ordered you to help me, said Ned with his voice filled with righteous honor. —As her lover, who has cuckolded me on numerous occasions, I obviously expect you to obey.

—Of course, Ramsay assured as he removed his shirt. —Whatever you need. Anything. Anything at all. How do you want to do it?

—What? Ned was shocked and confused.

—What? Ramsay was confused and shocked.

—Anyway, Ned sighed, —the Lannisters have a lot of knights. My men won't be enough. I need something if I'm to combat them…

—Ohohohohoh, Ramsay smirked as he comprehended the esoteric request. —You know exactly what it is you need. But you're too honorable to admit it. I'll pay them out of my own pocket. Just say it. What is it that you need? Some weapons? Hmmmm? An army, perchance?

—No! Ned Stark honorably hung his head in defeat. —I don't need an army. I just need twenty good men.

. . .

—In a room sit three great men: a king, a priest, and a rich man with his gold. Between them stands a sellsword, a little man of common birth and no great mind. Each of the great ones bids him slay the other two. 'Do it,' says the king, 'for I am your lawful ruler.' 'Do it,' says the priest, 'for I command you in the names of the gods.' 'Do it,' says the rich man, 'and all this gold shall be yours.' So tell me: who lives and who dies?

Varys licked his lips in satisfaction. No one had ever answered this riddle correctly. But, he was also a bit nervous. No one was quite like Ramsay Bolton. He was taking a risk. But it was for the good of the realm. Everything he did was for good of the realm. Even the pederasty. Especially the pederasty. Ramsay walked over to Varys in slow and languid steps, only stopping when their faces were almost touching.

—Twenty. Good. Men. he snarled while dual-wielding daggers.

Ramsay knocked Varys over the head until he was unconscious and fashioned a makeshift cross out of the bones of his enemies. When Varys awoke, he was tied to the cross and heard Ramsay sobbing. He felt the cold wind blow against his gash.

—There was no pork sausage, Ramsay wailed shirtlessly. —My people will go hungry tonight…

. . .

Ramsay Bolton stared at the manuscript in front of him. It's too long, he thought miserably. I need to cut out all of the good parts. So he set to work editing and left a feast for the crows.

. . .

—All we have to do is marry you to a suitable individual, then we will gain the military might to crush all of these rebellious northerners, said Roose Bolton dismissively. —That is how we will forge alliances and keep our heads. A policy of arbitrary torture is how the Mad King got a sword plunged through his belly.

Ramsay Bolton pursed his lips petulantly and kicked a pebble around. He wrung his hands, and tears came to his soulful eyes.

—What? You disagree?

Ramsay seemed to gain new confidence. He tore off his shirt. His muscles bulged. His hair became blonde and spiky. He began yelling energetically. —I don't want a wife, father! I'm a homosexual polygamist!

—W-w-w-what? Roose was dismayed. —But even if you wanted to be a pillow biter, you need a woman to continue the line….

—I don't need a woman, father. Ramsay smirked a smug smirk that took over his handsome face, but his dark eyes twinkled with righteous anger. —I just need twenty good men.

. . .

Ramsay was cornered. He was only one man, not twenty, and he was up against an army. Thousands of Unsullied warriors who have never known fear. They were born of iron and forged in dragonfyre. They had killed their first baby when they were but children themselves. Yes, the Unsullied had never before encountered fear. But they failed to realize one crucial thing: Ramsay was fear incarnate. Grey Worm led the charge and found Ramsay sitting alone, with his back turned to the doorway. There were several scores of Unsullied crowding the hallway, all nervously glancing over their shoulders and trying to spot any Harpies that might want to hurt them. There was an open window that Ramsay would be able to slip through easily with his incredible agility, but outside that window was the rest of Daenerys's army, and all three of her dragons. Yes, Ramsay was cornered. This was undeniable. And yet he was completely calm.

Grey Worm began to shout, his voice breaking several times as he squeaked out the following: —Surrender and bend the knee to the Unburnt Mhysa Queen Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen the first of her name breaker of chains mother of dragons queen of the Andals the Rhoynar and the first men protector of the realm Lady Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms the Silver Dragon Queen of Meereen across the narrow sea and consort of Daario Naharis the infamously roguish ne'er-do-well rapscallion sellsword! She is the most beautiful woman in the world!

Ramsay stood up and popped his top off while smirking. —Who's the most beautiful woman in the world? He flashed a little bottle of some strange liquid.

—Y-y-you are, please give me antidote…. Grey Worm fell to one knee and struggled to stand.

Ramsay smirked smugly without his power-limiting and sexually stifling shirt on. His muscles began to pop out of their sockets and burst through his skin. His hair grew long enough to touch the floor, white-blonde and shiny as flaxen gold, and his eyes became a glowing blue. The room filled with a blinding light. —You want the antidote, but you need that bad pussy. How fast can you run?

He unlocked the cage and unleashed his pack of bloodthirsty kittens. Grey Worm immediately turned tail and ran away, helped by his fellow brave Unsullied who had been trained since birth and were elite fighters and were also running. Daenerys ran away on one of her dragons.