wolfkissed| petyr baelish (littlefinger)

Thirty-Two

Jory Cassel waited out side Lady Starks chamber. He was to escort her to the Small Council Chamber. Jory worried for his lady after he witnessed her and her fathers conversation. She had thrown his words over her shoulder as if they meant nothing.

She laced her arm in his as they walked the beautiful halls. Jory was only twenty five, close in age to his lady. He had always thought her beautiful and under-appreciated for her beauty. He saw her scar only a token of her.

Jory was quite, the last son or four and the only one who reached adult-hood. He was a servant and lower-lord for House Stark. He was not fit to ask for her hand, and he doubted she would be tempted by his long and hard face.

"My lady, may I share with you my thoughts on what you and your father discussed yesterday?" Jory stuttered slightly as he looked down to the shorter woman.

Jale nodded as she did not mind.

"You should keep your fathers words to heart. Littlefinger's actions towards you have not been that of a worried family friend. A man of his age and power should not have laid his hand upon you as he had."

Jale had thought more on the matter from the night before. She thought perhaps her father and Captain Jory may have justifiable worries. But she did not think Lord Baelish a threat, she only made note to keep her eye keenly on him.

That night Jale had spent most of her evening pondering instead of sleeping. She had noticed the shift within her when she arrived in the south. The cold part of her felt as though it had defrosted and she was young an naive again.

She hated the idea and hated her actions as she looked back upon them. She was not to be her sisters. She was the eldest and now in charge of their motherly care. This journey was not for her but for Sansa, who will be wed to Joffrey and become queen of the realm. She had become self indulged.

"You needn't worry Captain, I am no foolish little girl as my sisters may be. I have been keeping my eyes on Lord Baelish, I do not fear him and I can defend myself or rather Era may." She smiled as she looked to the large direwolf that strode beside her, Era's head now reached Jales shoulder.

Jory opened the oak doors for Jale of the Small Council chamber. Her father sat at the head of the table, Renly Baratheon, Lord Baelish, Lord Varys, and Maester Pycelle at his sides but the Kings seat remained empty.

The men rose and politely bowed at the entrance of a lady. But Loras Tyrell quickly swept from his stance in the corner, leaving a small kiss on Jales hand as she hadn't noticed him. She blushed reluctantly but kept her strong face. She despised feeling so vulnerable.

Her and Loras Tyrell joined the men at the table.

Jales eyes scanned the table, stopping on Lord Baelish who gave her the faintest of smiles which lasted only for a second.

"Let us get to work then my Lords. Ser Loras, it has come to my attention you not only arrived in Kings Landing for the tourney?" Jale watched as her father spoke. Era entered the chamber quickly after, Jory closing the door after her.

Jale chuckled to herself at the horrified gazes of the men of the table, but none humored her more than Ser Loras'.

"By the Gods..." Maester Pycelle said beneath his breath. The old man smelt of dead rodent, Jale wondered to herself if Era might take a nip at him.

"Yes my Lord Hand, as heir to Highgarden it is my responsibility to find myself a bride." Loras flew a quick and false smile at Jale. Renly sulked from beside her.

"Ser Loras, I take it you have sought my eldest daughter, Jaleryd, as a candidate for Lady of Highgarden. This surprises me indeed as our Houses have never been joined as well as the fact our cultures oppose."

Jale side eyed her father. She knew Loras Tyrell would not be accepted from the tone of her father. A part of Jale was relieved she enjoyed the company of Ser Loras but nothing about him enticed her. He was so knightly she was on the verge of disgust.

He was beautiful and a gentlemen but something felt, subdued within him. She found it hard to fully trust him.

Sansa often spoke of his beauty and how lucky his wife would be. Their children would be bore looking like that a gods.

The table watched as Jale sighed.

Littlefinger quietly flexed his fist beneath the table of the council.

Ned had butchered his plan. Jaleryd was to marry Loras Tyrell and discover the night of their wedding his inability to consummate their marriage.

Littlefinger had planned to isolate and bring forth Jales vulnerability. She would grow depressed of her marriage and life, finding solace within him. The girl would have had no one but him who she would tell of Loras Tyrells cock riding.

Ned Stark, oh how he's despised.