wolfkissed| petyr baelish (littlefinger)

Twenty-Three

Ned looked at the sketch below him. A look in his eyes of dread and pain at the idea of marrying off Jale to someone so far away.

Renly Baratheon stared suspiciously at Ned Stark. His demeanor on edge.

"Isn't the daughter, Margaery, engaged to you Renly?" Ned asked as Littlefinger looked between the two, a signature smirk on his lips.

Renly simply nodded, too cautious to speak. He knew Ned was no follower of the Seven, but he was surrounded by those who wanted him dead. He would surely die if anyone were to know.

"Littlefinger, are you sure this is the best match? Highgarden is so far from the North. I fear she won't become accustomed to the south and grow melancholic for her home. I do not want her to end up the same as my wife's sister."

The mention of Lysa Arryn brought upon a silent chuckle from Littlefinger. The useless sister is what he liked to call her. She was such a blemish compared to her sister and her nieces. So ugly and fruitless and maddened. Her poor mind wasn't right and good ol' Jon had to pay the consequences of his wife's insanity.

"There is one matter-" Littlefinger smiled as he looked to Renly.

"My eyes and ears have heard of some rather unfortunate news regarding Loras' taste in—women. He prefers to climb trees than sit at the stump. But with Lady Jaleryd's character and religion if these rumors were to be true I doubt it would pose a problem as long as they can compromise to produce heirs. I have no doubt his sister and grandmother will be very fond of your daughter. The Tyrells have always admired House Stark more than any other."

Varys brought forth a book he held within his lap.

"With Renly's engagement to Lady Margaery I find it a waste to give the Hands eldest daughter, deeply loved by the Northerns, to the Tyrells. Renly will be able to receive plenty of funds from our friends in Highgarden through Margaery."

Littlefinger looked menacingly at Varys. The Little Birds must have infiltrated his letters. If word had spread of his communication with Olenna Tyrell it could be detrimental to his position. Ned Stark would be the worst of his problems then.

"Then who do you propose Lord Varys?" Littlefinger spat with an angered smile.

"A Dornish man. Trystane is the ideal partner as the heir to Sunspear, but if he is already betrothed to another Oberyn would be a suitable substitution. Some believe Oberyn should be crowned Prince of Sunspear instead of his brother for his inaction against the Lannisters and Clegane's."

Ned Stark stood to his feet.

"How dare you even mention a man of such character!"

Varys cringed slightly at the angered North man. They were as scary as the rumors said. Firey tempered and filled with a noble sense of just and pride.

Littlefinger played with his thumbs below the table, amused by Varys misstep. Ned Stark was very protective of his daughters, especially his eldest.

Ned sighed before sitting back down.

"I will meet with Loras Tyrell but never speak of Oberyn Martell and my daughter ever in the same sentence again. We are dismissed gentlemen."