A/N I'm putting the first chapter of this up to see how people will react to it. Please comment because I really want to know what you guys think.
English is not my first language so please excuse any odd or silly errors
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The night was cold and rain had set in hours ago, dark and heavy drops that crashed against the floor to ceiling windows leaving a deep pounding noise to echo around the large office of Petyr Baelish turning it into a bottomless, dank cavern. He was high up on the top floor of Lion and Stag Enterprises just like all the other business executives, to be on the fifty-first floor was a sign of power; power that so few at Lion and Stag Enterprises ever got to see. When the lions and stags had merged, so long ago now, Petyr knew he'd be able to control not only the Lannisters but the Baratheons too; he had a talent for subtle manipulation.
Petyr stared out at the rain, for some reason he found the noise comforting, almost like a child found covering its self with blanket comforting. Heavy rain fell from the heavens sending everything dark but he could still see the harbour in the far off distance as waves crashed against the shore. His desk was in perfect order, papers stacked in an orderly pile, pens sat in their gold lined black pot; he'd always been neat. Orderliness had always been a virtue of his, possibly to a fault. To just about anyone it would look like any normal office of a CFO but Petyr knew the truth, it wasn't like just any Chief Financial Officer's desk, he knew about the Ruger in his third draw down and the blade beside it. Behind him the television played the days news and Petyr listened absent-mindedly while sipping his whiskey from a cut crystal tumbler, that was, of course, until the name Joffrey Baratheon was mentioned. Petyr didn't turn but his attention was captured.
"Tonight sees eighteen year old Joffrey Baratheon arrested here at The Bear, a local club run by Jorah Mormont. The teen is the Vice President of Lion and Stag Enterprises, a family corporation that is the result of the merger of Tywin Lannister's and Robert Baratheon'scompanies almost a decade and a half ago. Mister Baratheon the younger was arrested tonight for drug possession and that of an unlicensed firearm. No charges have yet been announced however-"
Petyr didn't need to hear more, he knew what was coming next and so he stood there gazing out into the night sipping at his whiskey, just waiting. Baelish was smarter than most, he knew Cersei would soon be calling him and demanding he protect her darling boy from anything more. Sure enough he only had to wait a few seconds before his cellphone started to ring, Petyr sighed off to work then. In one smooth motion Petyr pulled the small cellphone from his grey suit pocket and hit the answer button bringing it to his ear.
"Yes, Cersei?"
"They arrested my son, Baelish. I want you to-" Petyr cut her angered voice off with his calm one.
"And you want me to hide every bit of evidence from that little brat pad of his before the police search it and find anything more." Petyr took another sip of his amber whiskey.
"That plaque on your office door may say CFO but you should remember your real profession, the one that makes you useful. Do it!" With that Cersei hung up leaving silence behind her.
Cersei Lannister was right, his office door did say CFO but Petyr Baelish was much more than that. He had another title that no one knew of, Cleaner. He'd made a career of cleaning up the blood, semen and all the other evidence for the Lannisters and Baratheons, he wasn't just good at it he excelled. His occupation as CFO was more of a side job, a way of making his payments legitimate... and of course Petyr had positioned himself in such a way that the company would die without him. He needed to get to and clean up after Joffrey though, no good would come of his charges getting worse... not yet anyway.
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The dark-haired man drove quickly towards the edge of Kings Landing but made sure to stay within the speed limit, work quickly but never draw attention, he'd learnt that early on in life and they were words he lived by, words he knew protected him. Each of the beyond expensive homes that lined Kings Landing's coast were lit up, shining in the night like palaces for all the Lords and Ladies. His own home was one of the smaller ones on the coast and hidden away in the hills looking almost as if it wasn't there. His own slice of isolation, not that he spent much time there; if Petyr wasn't cleaning up for others he was sitting in his office going over paperwork.
Leaving his car some distance away Petyr made his way to Joffrey Baratheon's house, his bag of tricks hanging at his side. Baratheon had one of, if not the, most hideous and overly ostentatious mansions in Westeros. The so-called home had two floors the exterior of which was L shaped and painted in an off putting dark grey with sporadic voids that looked like windows. It looks like the brat designed it himself, thought Baelish with a sigh, no Joffrey has no vision what to ever and couldn't be bothered. A gargantuan lighted pool took up most of the back yard and seemed as though Joffrey was overcompensating for something. Stepping inside it got even worse. Everything was filthy, in the centre of Joffrey's living room was a large navy couch covered in fresh beer stains, immediately opposite stood awhite painted coffee table that looked as though it had been flipped on more than one occasion. The table was a sea of empty and crushed beer cans with an ashtray containing countless cigarette and joint butts as the cans only punctuation. The maid must hate him with a passion, all this work on a daily basis. Poor woman, Petyr certainly didn't envy her.
In seconds Baelish had silenced his mind and pulled open his duffel bag, he slipped on his black latex gloves and set to work. The beer cans and the random bags of drugs that lay about were thrown into a garbage bag never to be seen again. There was far too many bags for just personal use, but Joffrey had no need for the money he could make, which, most assuredly, meant he did it just because he could; because his ego got some kind of sick power boost. Pathetic brat! Thought the dark-haired Cleaner. His hands never stopped moving, far too busy hiding the evidence to still his hands. There was a reason that he was indispensable to the Lannisters; Petyr Baelish was unmatched when it came to his profession.
There was a hideous gold ceramic ashtray smothered in fresh grey ash that found itself smashing into the bag along with everything else and soon he found a matching one in the kitchen. Even morons would have been disappointed when he came across the supposedly hidden armoury, the bookshelf latch was one of the easiest secret rooms he'd ever found; the door latch was probably the only book the great Joffrey Baratheon had ever touched. The whole shelf was covered in dust, the incestuous infant probably refused to let any maid near it.
"Should have let her clean it." Petyr mused aloud. "Makes it so easy to see this book is the only one ever moved."
The so-called hidden door, yeah hidden like a twelve year old girl hides a crush, swung open revealing a gold mine of weapons, throwing stars, a Katana and three overly decorative Samurai swords hung on the walls old blood dried and coating the blades. Seemed that Joffrey had the beginnings of his own torture chamber, Petyr sneered the brat knew nothing. The blades, guns and fire pokers went into the garbage bags easily before Baelish set about disinfecting all in sight. Petyr worked quickly and in silence, no idea of how long he'd have to dispose of the evidence before the police showed up to search Joffrey's home. Thankfully Joffrey seemed to have kept his blood lust mainly to that one secret room, it was the mess of drugs that would take the longest to deal with. Normally his job was just that a job nothing more but this one was more like a never ending chore. Grin and bare it, Petyr.
Time passed and Joffrey's bedroom was all that remained, knowing he was running out of time Petyr simply got on with it and entered the blondes bedroom. There he froze, but only for a moment.
"Fantastic." He sighed.
Before him pinned to the bed by crossbow bolts was a young and reasonably pretty girl, dead. Her hair was horribly dyed bright red and Petyr was almost certain she was a prostitute. Figures, no one would want Joffrey just for him. Money seems a pretty good reason."It at least explains the crossbow dumped downstairs." He muttered to himself as he set to work.
Seeing the corpse Petyr realised he'd have been called to the outlandish home at some point that night no matter what. From his bag of tricks came a large sheet of transparent plastic that he set neatly on the dark hardwood flooring, barely a heartbeat later the girls body was dropped onto it with a thud. Blood stained the plastic and her dead skin. The neon green bolts were thrown into the bag each one clinking against the one before it, a twisted lullaby for the dead. He tied the thick sheet around her and tied it off, sealing her into the plastic coffin. Joffrey's bedsheets were next to go, they were wet with blood and the stench of iron filled the room; it was almost unbearable and so Petyr pushed open the large window letting the cold night air inside. He'd smelt more than enough for his lifetime.
The linen closet was easily found and the bed remade in pale orange sheets that actually gave the room some much needed color. Petyr functioned on auto pilot as he moved the body through the nigh and into his car trunk, returning to depose of the utterly barbaric porn stashed in Joffrey's night stand, it went far beyond BDSM, this was revolting; rape, abuse, sadistic pain that served no purpose than to make a woman cry. It was discarded in his bag with a sneer of disgust.
"I'm burning this." Petyr decided firmly.
Baelish went over the house again, a quick once over just to be sure everything had been taken care of. Petyr took pride in his work and always made sure to double check. Everything was in order, not a single thing remained that could bring new charges to the insufferable child. Entering the bedroom once more he was pleased to discover the scent ofblood had been banished from the large and dark room. The man took a single step towards the window and found a squeaky floorboard but that was not what stopped him in his tracks. What froze him to the spot was the sound of movement, almost as though something had curled up onto a ball. Petyr knew no one could have gotten past him into the house, could someone really have been quiet enough to remain concealed from me this whole time? Petyr took his trusty lock knife from his pocket and clicked it open expecting a terrified prostitute or a pissed off drinking buddy of Joffrey's, he stood there waiting for them to make their move but nothing happened and Petyr started to wonder if he'd really heard anything at all. He pushed the Italian leather of his shoes down on the floorboard once more making it creak and echo around the room, a mew of fear was released.
Green-grey eyes darted down to the dark space under the bed, without blinking Baelishcrouched down and poked his head under the bed. A witness, a loose end. Anger filled his body. Under the bed there was little light but he could see the figure. Petyr pushed the sheets up on the bed out of the way. Thankful for the extra light now the sheet was out of the way. His eyes widened at the now clear person, the cause of the noise was a girl, or at least what looked like a girl. Kill the girl! His mind ordered. She had her eyes clenched shut and was shivering on the ice like floor. She knows what I've done. The girl must die! No loose ends, that was how he worked, why he was so successful. Petyr asked himself how he'd missed the her. How? Baelish now had to eliminate the obstetrical in his way before she could reveal his after hours job to the world. He reached into the darkness under the bed and towards the girl. She began screaming at the top of her lungs and he was suddenly thankful that they were far away from anyone else. Petyr practically had to clamber under the bed in order to pull her out dropping his blade to the floor, she clawed at the floor, unsuccessfully almost denting the wood in desperation. The female obstacle tried to pull away back under the bed but Petyr proved far too strong for the struggling girl. With one arm he held her in place, while the other retrieved his trusty lock knife as he did he was the girl clearly for the first time. His mind faulted for a moment and before he knew it the blade dropped, letting it make a metallic clang when it hit the floor. All anger in him at that moment lost the battle to shock, he saw what he had originally been oblivious to. The girl was naked and covered in a thick layer of dirt. Petyr pulled her closer into the moonlight to gain a better look at the nude and petrified form before him, but found something fighting him, something stronger than her desperate struggles. Petyr's mouth fell open, his green-grey eyes widened to the horror of what fought him. She was chainedto the bedpost, most likely why the bed was strong and solid, older looking than everything else Joffrey had in his home. Again the girl tried to crawl back underneath the bed, but stillBaelish was too strong. She screamed.
Petyr followed the silver linked chain up to an old brown leather collar tight around her neck, her body covered in painful purple-yellow bruises and small cuts, some so old that they had become scars. The chain would not let her move far beyond Joffrey's heavy bed. Her hair was long and wild, her lips cracked and dehydrated. The female's pale handswhere caked in grime. She had clearly been bound to the bed, confined for a long time, just how long he could not even imagine, but it was long enough for the collar to scar herdirty neck, burn it and rub it raw. Petyr loosened his grip, a result of his shock, he had killed but he was nowhere near capable of such cruelty. Seeing her single chance for escape she ripped herself out of his grasp and launched for the darkness, her little mind returned allowing him to grab the girl's thigh and pulled her back to him. Another traumatic squeal that burned his ears.
"Stop!" He shouted and instantly regretted it.
Her whole body tensed solid with fear. Silence rang out, all movement ceased. Petyr didn't mean to shout, however he was glad she had stilled. He had to kill her, she'd seen him, she knew, she saw. It would be kinder to kill her, she had been abused, she was scared, he had to do it. Baelish tried to convince himself it was right but she was not his victim. She was desperate to get back to her small place of safety. He gripped her shoulders and turned her, then it happened. A brief moment of eye contact, her azure eyes, the only glimmer of colour in the otherwise black room. Her orbs where filled with fear and tears, normally hefound fear in peoples eyes to be amusing, but he couldn't enjoy this, she was in pain. At that moment his ability to kill was gone, the Cleaner's decision was made for him. Petyrcould not harm her even if he wanted to. She looked to be around fifteen years old, a child. No anger remained in the Cleaner's body, all he felt for the child was...was there even a word for it? Maybe not.
"Who are you?" He asked as gently as he could, remembering his previous yelling.
The sound of his voice panicked the blue eyed one, her screaming had long since stopped but her tense struggles had not. She continued to reach, claw, towards what she viewed as safety. At a loss at how to steady the girl without shouting again he pulled her head to his chest andstroked her unwashed black hair soothingly. It was all he could think of, as a charismatic man he could easily comfort a woman via speech but when it came to a naked and traumatized child he had no idea what to do.
"It's alright." He told the girl. "I won't hurt you."
He knew she didn't believe him, the only reason she'd remained still so long was probably because she'd grown used to doing as she was told. Tragic. He couldn't kill her, not after seeing those orbs but he couldn't let her go free, the Lannisters would find her. Then an idea came to his talented head, one that might just work. Looking down to the chain he lifted it into his large hand and quickly started to wrap it around her neck, of course the girl surged with panic, raging through her body.
"Be still."
And that was just what the girl did, her body turned to stone; obeying. How could anyone treat a girl this way?
"You wont understand but I need you to play dead. Can you do that?"
Surprisingly she did as he asked and rather quickly too. Maybe she was prepared to die? Now that the panic was fading out she could see it again, see that death was something she wanted. If it wasn't for her heartbeat Petyr himself would have assumed she was dead. Was this girl so close to death in mind that her body followed so easily? Or was it that she feared disobeying? Before his mind completely left him Petyr pulled his phone from his pocket and took a photograph of her, one was all he needed.
"That's it, I'm done." He told her in a soft voice.
Her skin was so very pale, so cold and bruised. Baelish pulled off his dark suit jacket and wrapped it around her thin and fragile form, it would do little to help her since she was chilled to the marrow of her bones. The brunette girl's azure orbs locked on his blade when he took it in hand once more and followed it as the blade came up to the old leather, they widened in shock as the leather gave way and was sliced from her throat. Once it was gone she just stared at the chained collar on the floor, the Albatross gone from her neck. Petyrcould safely guess she'd never expected to see that day, with her still in his lap terrified to move he reached into his bag that had been discarded beside them and pulled free his lock picks in their little black leather pouch. In seconds he had the padlock off the bed leg and began gathering the disgusting object up, sliced leather collar and all tossing it into his bag with everything else. Of everything Baelish had expected from Joffrey's house, a traumatized teenage girl chained to his bed was not on the list, it wasn't often that he was surprised; and this wasn't a pleasant surprise.
"You won't believe me, but I will protect you."
How had this girl made him care with nothing more than a second of eye contact, he wasn't an easily swayed man and yet his ability to kill her was gone. There was something so familiar in those ocean deep eyes and he was determined to figure out why.
A hand reached out to cup her ice like cheek but it never got there, Petyr halted in his movements when he heard a car stop outside. "That's it, I'm done." He told her in a soft voice.
Her skin was so very pale, so cold and bruised. Baelish pulled off his dark suit jacket and wrapped it around her thin and fragile form, it would do little to help her since she was chilled to the marrow of her bones. The brunette girl's azure orbs locked on his blade when he took it in hand once more and followed it as the blade came up to the old leather, they widened in shock as the leather gave way and was sliced from her throat. Once it was gone she just stared at the chained collar on the floor, the Albatross gone from her neck. Petyr could safely guess she'd never expected to see that day, with her still in his lap terrified to move he reached into his bag that had been discarded beside them and pulled free his lock picks in their little black leather pouch. In seconds he had the padlock off the bed leg and began gathering the disgusting object up, sliced leather collar and all tossing it into his bag with everything else. Of everything Baelish had expected from Joffrey's house, a traumatized teenage girl chained to his bed was not on the list, it wasn't often that he was surprised; and this wasn't a pleasant surprise.
"You won't believe me, but I will protect you."
How had this girl made him care with nothing more than a second of eye contact, he wasn't an easily swayed man and yet his ability to kill her was gone. There was something so familiar in those ocean deep eyes and he was determined to figure out why.
A hand reached out to cup her ice like cheek but it never got there, Petyr halted in his movements when he heard a car stop outside. The police, it has to be. No one else would come here. As far as he knew anyway. The window. Petyr thought, he'd clocked it as a quick and easy escape the second the house had come into view; he was always preparedfor the unexpected and refused to be blocked by the police. Yet now he had to carry a fragile young woman suffering from trauma, there was no time to think about it, the front door had opened and shut already. Fuck it! He thought quickly before picking the girl up and throwing her over his shoulder and grabbing his duffel bag. The brunette didn't scream, not this time and Petyr was thankful for that.
In seconds he was out of the window and on the garage roof, somehow he managed to land almost completely silently. Nothing but a leaf landing. Petyr's feet took him to the edge of Joffrey's garage roof quickly and without fuss, he chucked his bag down and looked at the distance. The drop would have been easily manageable had he not been carrying his new blue eyed mystery, however, she was with him and he had no idea but to just jump. Petyr landed with a heavy thud, his legs buckled and his knees planted against the soft green grass.
"Shit!"
Petyr tried to quiet the spark of pain that shot up his legs before he stood, thankfully hewas obliged. Rising back to his full height and grabbing his bag Petyr vanished into the night, no one knew he was there save for Cersei and she'd tell no one since it benefited her darling little Bastard.
But what to do about the naked girl in his arms?