A Dragon in Disguise

King's Landing

Finally, we made it to King's Landing. I settled back into my room, Balerion curling himself into a ball on the bed. "You, stay. I've got court." I said to him as I pulled my gloves off. He sighed, causing me to laugh. "I'll be back soon." 

I snuck into the tunnels through a door that laid behind a painting in my room and made my way through the halls all the way to the room of the Small Council. 

"Lord Stark." Varys greeted.

"Lord Varys." Ned shook his hand.

"I was grievously sorry to hear of your troubles on the Kingsroad. We are all praying for Prince Joffrey's full recovery."

I rolled my eyes.

"A shame you didn't say a prayer for the butcher's son." Ned walked from the spider and to the king's brother. "Renly! You're looking well." They embraced.

"And you look tired from the road. I told them this meeting could wait another day, but-"

"But we have a Kingdom to look after." Littlefinger cut in. "I've hoped to meet you for some time, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me."

"She has, Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well."

"All too well. I still carry a token of his esteem from navel to collarbone."

"Perhaps you chose the wrong man to duel with."

"It wasn't the man that I chose, My Lord. It was Catelyn Tully. A woman worth fighting for, I'm sure you'll agree."

I could feel the jealousy coming from them both. 

"I humbly beg your pardon, My Lord Stark." Grant Maester Pycelle spoke.

"Grand Maester." Ned greeted. 

"How many years has it been? You were a young man."

"And you served another king."

"Oh, how forgetful of me." he reached into his pocket. "This belongs to you, now." Ned took the Hand's pin. "Should we begin?"

"Without the King?" Ned asked.

"Winter may be coming, but I'm afraid the same cannot be said for my brother." Renly said, sitting.

Varys cleared his throat. "His Grace has many cares. He entrusts some small matters to us that we might lighten the load."

"We are the Lords of Small Matters here." Littlefinger said. 

And, unannounced to them, I was the Lady of Small Matters. There wasn't a meeting I didn't have my ear in, hiding in the walls. 

Pulling out a parchment, Renly announced, "My brother instructs us to stage a tournament in honor of Lord Stark's appointment as Hand of the King." 

"Mmm, how much?" Littlefinger asked with a sigh.

"40,000 gold dragons to the champion, 20,000 to the runner-up, 20,000 to the winning archer." Ned read from the paper.

"Can the treasury bear such expense?" Grant Maester asked, surprised by the numbers.

"I'll have to borrow it. The Lannisters will accommodate, I expect. We already owe Lord Tywin three million gold. What's another 80,000." Littlefinger replied.

"Are you telling me The Crown is three million in debt?"

"I'm telling you The Crown is six million in debt."

"How could you let this happen?" Ned demanded.

"The Master of Coin finds the money. The King and The Hand spend it." Littlefinger said, unbothered.