The Last Reyne

Petyr

"10, 9, 8..."

The pattering of light footsteps filled the air.
"7, 6, 5..."

A round of giggles mingled with the pattering sound.

"4, 3, 2, 1"

Petyr turned around and started looking at the landscape of the weirwood. Any sign that would give the girls' location away. He had always been perceptive; at least, that's what he'd like to think.

A rustling of leaves caught his attention, too hard for it to be blown by the wind. Besides that, the weather was hot today, as was the case in the South. He's often wondered what it would be like to live in the North. Would the cold have been better?

"Gotcha!" He pulled the girl who was causing all the rustles and she gave a little squeak of surprise. He grinned, it was always Lysa that got caught first. Unlike her sister... His heart skipped even thinking about her name.

"How did you know I was there Petyr?" Lysa stood up and dusted the leaves that had stuck on her dress. "That hiding place was perfect."

"Almost but," he smirked and raised a finger. "The rustling gave it all away. If you'd become stiller, you might have won this round Lysa!"

Lysa blushed and looked down. She's always been shy around him and he knew why. He brushed the thought off. He had to focus on finding the older sister. He scanned the surroundings one more time before proceeding to his deduction method.  The dress she wore would certainly prevent her from climbing  so she was obviously hiding in the bushes present or behind the trees. Both were limited... Before he could finish deducing every single possibility on where she might hide, someone pushed him. Strong enough to make his small body lose its balance. Laughter echoed throughout the weirwood which was soon joined by Lysa's and his.

"Looks like I win Petyr." The girl with eyes as blue as the skies above and hair with the warmth of autumn offered her hand to him and smiled. He took it. It was soft and warm. He felt his cheeks warm up. Either it was from embarrassment at being caught off guard or by the close proximity of him and his beloved or maybe both.

"You've always been better at this kind of game Cat." He dusted of the dirt from his trousers. Before she could respond, the sisters' ladies-in-waiting approached them and told them that their Lord Father would like to see them and talk to them about crucial matters. As they bid him goodbye, he was tempted to go with them. What kind of crucial matter is it this time? He watched as she got further and further away from him before he decided to go to his room.
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When his father, a hedge knight, swore fealty to Hoster Tully, the two forged a bond of friendship and Petyr was sent to Riverrun to be fostered by one of the great houses in Westeros. To be granted such an honor was more than he and his father could ever hope for.
There he grew up with Lord Hoster's children. Catelyn was the eldest daughter. She was beautiful, smart and brave and as time flew by; her features only became more emphasized than they already were. Lysa was the middle child and in his opinion, she was but a shadow of her sister's beauty and finesse. The youngest was Edmure, the only son and heir of Lord Hoster who annoyed him in a tolerable manner. It was he who gave him the nickname "Littlefinger" which had stuck to most of the servants in the House. Deep inside, it cut him. Such was the nickname given to him due to his stature and his family's meager holdings and he swore that he would raise his social status so as to leave the judgments of the nobles. 

And so I could marry Catelyn.

He shook the thought off. It was close to impossible to be able to marry her, her father would never agree. But should he ever raise his status....

Petyr clenched his fist. Tonight he must tell her, how he really felt, his plans on marrying her. She might feel the same. He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote on it simply:

Cat, meet me in the weirwood tonight, when the moon has just risen from the trees. I'll be waiting for you in the place where the old gods meet the new.

-Petyr
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He paced nervously. Will she come? A million thoughts raised through his mind but he couldn't sort them through. Not until Cat comes and accepts what he confesses. He needed her. He needed her comfort, her sweet approval.

CRUNCH. CRUNCH. CRUNCH.

Petyr perked up, filled with overwhelming euphoria. She came! She wore a dark green hood over her night gown. She smiled faintly at him.

"Cat..."

"Before you begin... " Cat's eyes sparkled. Not in the good way...

"Cat... What's wrong?"

She hugged him for a moment and let go. "I'm getting engaged to a Northerner. A man who goes by the name of Brandon Stark, the heir of Winterfell."

Petyr's face fell. How could he ever compete with a man who was to become the Lord of a great house and become the Warden of the North?

"He comes in a fortnight. I'm nervous Petyr. Nervous yet... curious at the same time. What do you think he would be like Petyr?"

"Cold and ruthless perhaps? I hear Northerners tend to be like that due to the harsh weather conditions." He said bitterly.

"We mustn't judge him..." she sighs. "Well, what was it you wanted to say so much that you didn't want to include Lysa?"

He blushed. "I, uh, decided to learn how to wield a sword."

"Indeed? That's wonderful  Petyr! Do you intend to be a knight of House Tully?"

"Indeed it is... And I haven't quite decided if I should pursue knighthood..."  He gestured to his stature.

"That could be an advantage you know." She winked at him and he smiled. She always brought out the best in him.

Catelyn didn't want to get married to this Northerner, he felt it.  Besides, they would take her away from here. Uproot her and bring her to the harsh coldness of the North. He couldn't let that happen. Although he lacked wealth to goad Lord Hoster to his side, he knew of one more way to break the engagement. By sword. He offered his hand. "I'm sorry for letting you come here for such petty news. Shall we go back inside my lady?"

She held his hand and as he bid her goodnight, Petyr's conviction only grew stronger. On the day that the Northerners would come to Riverrun, he would challenge Catelyn's fiancé for a battle to win her hand.