Game of Thrones Imagines

Petyr and the Necromancer

Now this isn't a usual Littlefinger story, but I thought I'd try something different. Obviously doesn't follow the plot of the show.

Warnings: Mentions of dark magic and raising spirits.

Petyr stomped to his office, he had been informed that an unknown visitor had made their way into the brothel and demanded to see him, and had refused to leave, after helping themselves to wine. He was furious that anyone would dare disrespect him in such a manner, whoever his unwanted visitor was they would not be happy that they stayed around. Storming into his rooms Petyr saw a hooded figure looking through his paperwork.

"Who do you think you are demanding to see me?" Petyr said attempting to stay in his usual cool persona, but for some reason the intruder was making it difficult despite not even having said a word. Lazily the figure continued to flick its fingers through his work.

"This is very creative bookkeeping, does the idiot king know that you are robbing him blind? I wouldn't want to see you lose that pretty little head of yours......... well....... not unless I was the one cutting it off of course."

Petyr took a deep breath, it couldn't be! He hadn't heard that voice in years. Even as a child that voice sent shivers down his spine, it was a sound he dreaded. But it was impossible, he had paid a hefty price to make sure that he would never heard that sound again, the assassin had even brought back evidence as proof of their demise.

Petyr staggered backwards as his visitor pulled down their hood.

"Brother...... are you not pleased to see me?" The visitor asked, an evil smirk growing on their lips.

Petyr's eyes widened, as he looked upon the features that he hoped  he would never have to see again.

Leaning back in his chair his visitor laughed, as they saw the expression on his face.

"B-B-But you're dead!" Petyr stuttered out as he fell back into a chair.

"Oh Petyr, you really think that your sister would be so easy to kill? Your assassin found my alternative offer more than generous, and one human heart looks very much like any other when it has been carved from a corpse. Sending a simple assassin after your necromancer sister I found insulting in the extreme, but I forgive you my dear brother."

Petyr watched in fear as his sister rose from the chair, stalking towards him and gripping his face firmly in her hand.

"My beautiful little brother, always such a sweet child. Are you still scared of me Petyr? Do I still haunt your dreams?"

Petyr watched as her eyes grew dark, her face contorting into something from the pits of the Seven Hells. He normally wasn't scared of anyone, he was always one step ahead of the game, his spies and whores keep him supplied with the information he needed, and his position as Master of the coin gave him power and influence.

But here he was, a child again, cowering under the gaze of his evil sister; the only person he had ever feared.

It hadn't always been the case; she had been a wonderful and loving sister when he was a small boy; but that was before she was taken. She disappeared for many years, only to return as suddenly as she had vanished; but now she was dark, able to do things that no one should be able to do, her soul warped and wicked.

Late at night Petyr had witnessed in horror what she could do. Out of childish curiosity he had followed her one night, as she made her way down into the cemetery, his eyes wide as he watched her converse with the spirits of the dead that she summoned. He had tried to tell his parents, but they were too happy that their daughter had returned to believe the fanciful tales of their son.

But death followed wherever she went, livestock, crops and people, all felt her wrath when she was displeased. Eventually the people had forced her to flee her home, but not before she had left her mark on those that dare stand up against her. Petyr had presumed she was dead for many years, thankful that her evil soul had finally been taken; but then he heard rumours, rumours of a high born female necromancer that stalked the world far north of the Wall, awaking things that should never have been awaken.

Even though he didn't want to believe it, he had paid a highly trained assassin a large amount of money to travel far beyond the wall to ascertain the truth, and if his worse fears were correct then the assassin was to dispose of the problem. The man had returned with a black human heart, assuring the lord that he no longer had need to fear. But here she was, the assassin had lied, and he now had more to fear than ever before.

"W-w-why.... are.... y-y-you doing here (Y/n)?" Petyr managed to stutter out as her grip on his chin tightened.

"Can't a loving sister just want to see her brother?" (Y/n) hissed softly, as her black eyes stared into his.

Petyr could feel himself shake; if any of his rivals could see him now, they would surely use it against him, either that or he would forever be the laughing stock of King's Landing, whichever one it was he was happy that they were alone.

"We both know that you aren't here out of the kindness of your heart, or concern for my wellbeing (Y/n). You stopped caring about anyone other than yourself a long time ago." Petyr growled with a newfound confidence, that he himself couldn't believe.

His sister laughed, it was soulless, and evil and filled the room sending a new sense of horror through his body. Before he could do or say anything further, he found himself pinned up against the wall, her strong hand tightly gripping his throat.

"How dare you speak to me in such a manner, you snivelling coward. From what I know of you, you are just as bad as I, only out for what you can get; willing to use anyone and anything to get ahead. We are more alike than you care to admit brother." Venom dripped from her every word as she coldly but purposefully tightened her grip.

"Now listen to me brother, I am here for a reason, and that reason is you. I have seen what will be, I know what is to come, and despite everything I am still a Baelish whether you like it or not. If we work together, we can play the game better than anyone has ever done before, we will be unbeatable. Your enemies will fall, and you will rise higher than you could ever dream. Just take my hand and we will have everything."

Petyr looked at his sister as she released her grip on his throat. For the first time in as long as he could remember he saw sincerity and truth in her eyes, eyes that were no longer black but the beautiful dark green that he remembered from when he was a child.

"What's in it for you?" He asked coldly as he rubbed the reddened skin around his throat.

Moving back to his chair she sat down behind his desk. "I have grown tired of the far north. King's Landing presents a much more interesting challenge, and as my brother rises so will I; you are not the only one in the family that desires power Petyr, and together we will achieve that power. Now do we have a deal?" She asked, as she put forward her hand waiting for him to shake it.

Petyr looked at her hand, weighing up all the pros and cons of her offer. His sister was powerful, and he knew that she would be able to deliver what she was offering; but what would happen if he ever crossed her, if he ever did anything she didn't like. He knew that she would kill him without even batting an eyelash when she had no further need of him; but that could be years from now, decades even, and the lure of power was too much for him.

Taking a hold of her hand he shook it and watched as her eyes sparkle wickedly in the candlelight, a small grin gracing her lips.

"Good. Now brother, let the game begin."