wolfkissed| petyr baelish (littlefinger)

Twenty-Nine

    
She sat at the edge of the sea grounds of The Red Keep. Jale silently cried as she watched the ships leave and go from port. She had been ashamed of her actions but she held the temper of her aunt and uncles deep down within. She did not want to ever show her face at court again. Whispers of disgust were to turn to whispers of gossip and laughter.

The Hound watched from above as he had been sent to locate the girl by the King. Sandor was not the type to feel pity but he understood the girls turmoil. He years ago had learned to get over the insults and adapted to throwing them back. But he was a man and she only a high Lords daughter.

"They sent me for you. Now come on girl." His abrupt interruption of the silence made Jale nearly jump out of her skin.

"Ser Sandor. Please- ah.... apologize on my behalf to The King and Ser Hugh. I am afraid I have acted outlandishly." She said defeated as she whipped the tears away from her face quickly.

"Ser Hugh's dead. A joust broke and went straight through his chest. And theres no sense in crying. That won't stop them from calling you a feral bitch with half a face." The Hound growled agitated with her.

Jales frown quickly melted into a face of anger. The Hounds words were offensive and not to be coming from a man of a low lord birth.

She was already enraged and upon her wits edge. It took a lot to push her to such an extent but Ser Sandor had poked the bear.

"How dare you speak to me in such a way! Go back to my father and eat Prince Joffrey's shit. I am your lady! Heir to Winterfell and the North. You are nothing but a lions lap dog!" She seethed. Sandor could have sworn he saw fire leaving her throat like a red dragon.

The Hound couldn't help but smirk at such foul language leaving a ladies mouth. He enjoyed how much he enraged the Stark. Her harmful words were nothing to him but what he already knew. But her claim as heir puzzled him and left him with questions.

Sandor had noticed Jaleryd Starks stares at him when he arrived in Winterfell. Now she had been presented with the chance to speak with him but only slashed her sword of a tongue.

"Clegane, I believe Joffrey is demanding your presence."

The familiar voice made Jale cuss underneath her breath as she heard the Hounds armor clank away. The sound of fine leather shoes padding towards her in its place.

He stood behind her silently as she sniffled at the sea.

"You know fate has a funny way of working. A low born knight insults a high lords daughter and moments later a joust pierced its way through his heart. The Gods must favor you Jaleryd Stark." Lord Baelish said with an admiration in him voice to which Jale did not reciprocate.

She scoffed.

"Which ones?"

Petyr did not hesitate.

"All of them."

She looked back to Lord Baelish who presented her with a blue hanky. She graciously took the cloth whipping her nose and cheeks.

Lord Baelish moved beside her. Standing on the step she sat on. They watched the ships together in silence for awhile. Jale had appreciated his respect for her quiet peace.

"You should return to the tourney tomorrow." He spoke as he looked down at her. He almost laughed at the disgust on her face.

"How could I return to face people who will only ridicule and laugh at me like a court jester? I am no clown for their amusements. I am Jaleryd Stark. Eldest child of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully. They should be the ones i'm laughing at." Jale said with such venom Lord Baelish was stunned.

Jaleryd was a responsible young woman, known for her smart mouth and scars. She took care of her siblings and her family as a mother would. But this side of her intrigued him. The anger, the lust for power and demand for respect. It was something entirely different from Ned and Cat. Something only Jaleryd possessed, a want for so much more than she was given, a quality they both shared.

"Letting them think they scared you away will only give them the impression they've won the game. Tomorrow morning, wear your scars like a Volantis jewel. Show them you are no victim of tongues of steel but only the wilder of hidden dagger. Waiting to plung your knife into their soft under belly when they think it's safe to show you."

Jale stared up at Petyr. She hated this side of her. The pride and the lust that came with it. She knew he was trying to fuel her fire.

Her own calamity had smothered her flames as she stared at him with vex. Without another word to Petyr Baelish, Jaleryd Stark left him alone of the steps of beach port.