Chapter 38
PETYR BAELISH
He had spent nearly a decade trying to build a life for himself in Westeros, as he rose from being a petty Lord to one of the most powerful men in the realm. Yet all of it was destroyed in only a few days, because of the actions of a singular individual.
He was forced to flee the capital and abandon all that he had built just so he could survive, but Baelish had come from nothing. He knew what it meant to take what was meant for others, what it meant to climb the ladder of power and influence.
He had risen from being a petty Lord to becoming the Master of Coin all through his own efforts, and he would rise again and exact his revenge on the people who had ruined his life.
Varys had thought that he could use him to further his own goals, but Baelish knew that the bald man was no one's friend. He had hidden his true allegiance from the world for years now, and even now, Baelish wondered if he truly was a Targaryen loyalist, or was it all another ruse to hide another grand plan.
The Spider was a creature of mystery, and only a fool would think him an ally. It was why Baelish had decided to endear himself to the Beggar Prince, for he knew that the young Prince was the key to his revenge.
Viserys Targaryen had been a child during the time of Robert's rebellion and had been forced to flee from his homeland because of Robert's rage. The Prince had spent his life hiding and running away from the Usurper's shadow, and Baelish knew that he could offer him no greater gift than the death of the man who had ruined his entire life.
The Prince was the key to his rise, and unless he had won him over, Petyr's life would always remain in danger. Using nearly half of his wealth, Baelish was able to exact his revenge and win over the boy Prince, who would help him fulfill all his dreams.
The fat magister and the Spider may call present themselves as allies and friends, but the Prince remained wholly unconvinced by their efforts, and Baelish intended to use that dissatisfaction to drive a wedge between the Beggar Prince and his so-called allies.
"The war is over already?" the beggar Prince asked with a frown, and the young Targaryen Prince had been spending more and more time here at his manse for the last few moons now.
"For all intents and purposes, it is over indeed, and I am afraid the outcome does not favor us much," and the Seven Kingdoms were not whole still, and battles would be fought for some time still. But for all intents and purposes, the war was over, and the conclusion could not be any worse for him.
"How?" questioned the young Prince as he sat beside him.
"The Lannisters won the war decisively," and in truth, there had been only one great battle, and with that, their hopes of bloodying the Seven Kingdoms before their invasion had been dashed.
"But even more worrying than that is the identity of the person who is set to inherit the throne now," and while no official announcement had been made yet, the choice was obvious.
"Who?" the young Targaryen Prince asked worriedly.
"Steffon Baratheon," and the mention of that name made his blood boil with rage, and he could think of no one worse to sit on the Iron Throne apart from him.
"But he is the second son," but that would not stop him now.
"He is the younger twin, but no one can stop his ascension, for he is the one who won them the war. Without him, the Lannisters would be in chains by now," and Baelish had rejoiced when he had heard that the bastard had been captured by Stannis's men while fleeing the continent, but somehow the boy had managed to perform a miracle.
He had coerced the Lord of Dragonstone into a Trial by Combat and slain him in battle single-handedly, and then ridden his armies to Kingsladning just in time to strike down the younger Baratheon brother as well.
"He slew both Stannis and Renly Baratheon with his own two hands, and without his intervention the capital would have easily fallen to Renly's men especially with the North and the Riverlands refusing to lend their strength to the Lannister cause," and that was a rather well worked ploy by the Spider to cause chaos, but in the end the plot had failed and now there was open rebellion in the Vale against Lysa and her allies.
"The people will not accept another Usurper. They will rise for me. Their true King," and this was what made Baelish doubt the Spider and the Magister's true intentions, for they had filled the Prince's head with nothing but lies.
It could simply be the same madness that had once plagued his father, but the lies were obvious enough to make him question their true intentions.
"I am afraid few people have the courage to face the Old Lion's wrath," Petyr did not call him on his delusion, but he would have to deal with it one day.
"They still remember the Rains of Castamere," and now the Old Lion and his armies ruled, and the man would waste no time in consolidating power.
"With the Old Lion by his side, Steffon Baratheon will waste no time in consolidating power, and with that, we will lose the initiative that we had gained with the usurper's death," and now the Prince scowled as he pushed himself off his chair.
"It is all that damn horselord's fault," and now he began to pace as Baelish sipped his wine.
"The barbarian refuses to follow the terms of our deal!" and now he turned towards him in his rage.
"He was supposed to provide me with an army, and yet now he refuses to cross the Narrow Sea!" and even a fool knew that Dothraki refuse to sail, and yet Illyrio had married the Princess to the barbarians for some odd reason.
The entire arrangement was strange, and Baelish knew that he would get no better opportunity to sow some discord here than in this moment right here.
"The Dothraki are barbarians. They do not recognize the true worth of the bargain you have offered them," and to waste a piece as valuable as the Princess on the barbarians was a true travesty.
"You are right! They are fools who fail to see the favor I have done unto them," and so Baelish chose to cut in.
"Perhaps it is time we rectify that mistake," and the Prince's head snapped towards him.
"What do you mean by that?" and Baelish swallowed the wine, as he began cautiously.
"I am not one to speak ill of friends and allies, but the Magister and his friend made a mistake in marrying the Princess to that barbarian Khal Drogo," and Baelish would make far better use of the girl in question.
"His khalasar may be the largest in history, but the Khal is useless to us as long as the Narrow Sea sits between Westeros and us," for the Dothraki dared the sea and refused to sail across it.
Khal Drogo may be a fearsome warrior, but tradition weighed against him in this and the Dothraki were superstitious fools. They would replace him well before they would swim across the Narrow Sea.
"What do you suggest then?"
"Your sister is a Princess, and she could help us win favor with a great ally in the war to come. It is a waste to have her wed to some khal on this side of the Narrow Sea when her true home lies across it," and he stood up now and walked up to the Prince.
"The Lannisters may have won the war, but they have yet to win the Peace that is to come. The Vale will not bend the knee, and there are rumors that Balon Greyjoy prepares to declare himself a King once more," and they had wasted one opportunity already, and they would be a fool to waste another.
"I can gather us a ships, and a small army to land on the shores of Westeros within a half a year, but if we are to win the throne we will need allies and I know many within the Kingdom who would offer you their support for a chance to wed a Princess of blood," and the Prince was frowning now, yet Baelish could see his mind racing as he considered his proposal.
"But she is already married to the Khal," and that was trouble indeed.
"She is married to a man, and men die. Sometimes rather easily," and now he just had to convince him.
"You would kill the Khal?" the Prince asked in surprise, and Baelish offered him a nod.
"How? You are no warrior," and he chuckled at that.
"Indeed I am no warrior my Prince, but there are other ways to kill a man," and he was considering his offer.
"The war offered us a great opportunity to act, yet we failed to take advantage of it. We must act now, otherwise the Lannisters hold over the capital will only grow stronger and soon enough the Seven Kingdoms will begin to forget their true ruler," and those amethyst eyes narrowed.
"Dorne is tied to you already, and I can offer you the Vale. With the Princess and her dragon eggs, we could have you sitting on the Iron Throne in a year at most," and for years Viserys Targaryen had dreamt of reclaiming his birthright, but he had been offered only promises and platitudes.
But Baelish was promising him his long sought dream, and only a fool would turn that down.
"A year?" he gasped, and the Prince's desire was obvious.
"Indeed," he agreed as he walked around him.
"Do it then," and Baelish smiled at the Prince.
"As you wish, my Prince," and he lowered his head.
"Though I must make one request of you, your grace," and the Prince nodded in joy and excitement as he imagined himself on the throne.
"Ask away, my lord?" he spoke regally as if he was doing him a favor.
"I think it would be best if you kept our plans to yourself. At least until the Khal is dealt with," and he was frowning now.
"Why? Do you doubt Illyrio's loyalty?" and if the Magister was to learn of his plans, he would try to stop them and Baelish could not have that.
"Of course not. The Magister is loyal to you, but he put in a lot of effort in forging the alliance between you and Khal Drogo. He may hold some sympathies for it, and if the Khal or his men became aware of our plans, they could do some irreparable harm to the Princess in their rage," and he boiled in rage at that.
"I will kill them if they dare lay a finger on Daenerys," and he would not last a second.
"And you would have every right to, but the Dothraki are ruthless in their vengeance. If they even get a whisper about our plans, they would not hesitate to turn their blades against us," and the Prince seemed to mull it over for a few seconds before he nodded.
"You are right. I will not speak of it to Illyrio," and Baelish smiled.
"I knew that a true King like you would understand the need for such secrecy," and with that he was a step closer to his ultimate goal.
"I assure you, your grace. I will not let you down...."
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