Loki: Game of Thrones

Chapter 21 - Mocking the Bird

Loki awaited the arrival of his linens in his chamber. He was sprawled out on his bed, his armor and weapons removed, allowing him a freer range of motion to just lie on his mattress like a log. He did not care. He had just beaten several men at the same time. The god had earned a respite. His eyes were closed and he was thinking about how close he had gotten to Sansa. He could smell the scent of her perfume, feel her body heat, see every tremor of her heartbeat in her throat. Loki opened his eyes to stare at the covering over his bed. It was of a silver material, that caught the light and reflected it off the ceiling. Loki sighed, a mixture of frustration and curiosity. "Oh, Lady Sansa! Your innocent claws capture us all." The knock that followed this statement, was not the knock Loki had been expecting. It was not soft, suggesting a timid, and demure lady. Instead, Loki sensed it was a person who knew what they wanted in life, and how to get it. Baelish! Loki thought as he sat up. "Enter!" Loki called, and the door opened. Loki was startled at seeing Baelish carrying his shirts, but he hid it well. "Ah! Petyr Baelish! Thank you for picking up my dry cleaning!" Loki told him cheerfully as he stood up. Reaching out, he took hold of the clothes, but Petyr Baelish did not relinquish his grasp.

"Lady Sansa Stark was on her way to give these to you. When I saw her with them, I knew they were for you. You've got her under your suave, sells-sword spell," Baelish said. Loki smirked as he pulled the shirts from Petyr Baelish's arms. He turned to his wardrobe and began to put them away.

"You're just fishing, Baelish. You want me gone," Loki said, turning to him, and folding up the handkerchief. He placed it in a trouser pocket, and folded his arms across his chest. "But you don't have any evidence of indiscretion on my part. Towards a noble lady... like Sansa Stark?" Baelish smirked as he put his hands behind his back.

"At this rate, we won't need any actual evidence that you've taken her maidenhead. Joffrey will spin a web so thick, you won't be able to talk yourself out of it," Baelish told him. Loki snickered and returned to his bed. Sitting down, he placed one hand on his hip, and studied Petyr Baelish with his concentrated green eyes.

"Joffrey will?! Don't make me laugh, Petyr Baelish! Joffrey couldn't spin a thread into loops around his little finger. He doesn't have the balls or brains for it. You on the other hand...? Well, that's another story," Loki said. He crossed his ankles, and lightly tapped the mattress with his free hand.

"The queen has already mentioned to the privy council that she will have you removed, one way or another. Lord Stark stands up for you, as of right now. As does Prince Renly," Baelish pointed out. Loki shrugged his one shoulder and admired the sheen of light off his fingernails.

"Well, Prince Renly's just so grateful that I saved his lover from getting squashed by the Mountain," Loki commented nonchalantly. Petyr Baelish's eyebrows quirked up, and his lips twitched slightly.

"And I thought I was the only one who knew."

"I wouldn't put it past Lord Varys knowing. But, that's another reason why you hate me," Loki said, and he looked hard at Petyr Baelish now. "You and he are two fish, in an already small pond. My arrival and skills puts you in jeopardy. I see more than you. Because unlike you, Lord Baelish, I do my own investigating. I don't let little birds go and collect the tale, and by the time it gets back to me, it's convoluted. Granted, I don't mind relaxing and letting others do my work every now and then, but not usually.  The information I gather, I see with my own eyes. I hear with my own ears. Like, your unnatural fascination with Catelyn Stark." Loki stood up slowly as he said that last sentence, while Petyr Baelish stiffened slightly. Loki smirked at this sign of nervousness. "Eheheh. Oh yes! I found this among your things at your 'establishment'." Loki held up a portrait of Catelyn Stark, and Baelish made an undignified grab for it. Loki held it out of his reach with one hand, and with the other, he blocked his attempts. "This enthrallment with the mother has, however, translated into one with the daughter. She is the next logical person you can fixate on." Loki looked at the painting of Catelyn Stark, and his brow furrowed slightly. "Although, the daughter is prettier in my mind."

"You have stepped across a line, ser," Baelish told him, his voice still controlled, and level; but Loki could hear certain tones that he had not heard before. Loki grinned as he put the picture down on his nightstand and approached Baelish. Petyr Baelish took one step back, and soon, he and Loki were looking at each other. Loki had to stoop slightly so that they were nose to nose.

"No. You will step across a line by continuing to intimidate Lady Sansa Stark. Both those girls are under my protection. Anybody or anything that tries to harm them? Answers to me. And that includes ants like you," Loki said. Petyr Baelish could feel Loki's cool breath on his skin, and it was giving him chills.  "But then, an ant has no quarrel with a boot."

"Is this war, Ser Loki Sells-sword?" Baelish queried, standing up a little taller. Loki snickered, right before he pulled Sansa's handkerchief out of his back pocket. Holding it up, he inhaled the scent. Baelish saw the symbol of the horned helmet, before his eyes flickered back to Loki.

"Let's just say it'll be more than a passing skirmish," Loki answered. That was when the door suddenly closed in Petyr Baelish's face. How had he moved across the room, and out into the hallway? He had no memory of taking the necessary steps to be outside the chamber. However, Loki had made his point pretty emphatically clear. Baelish made anymore moves or hints in Sansa's direction, and the sells-sword would bring the fight to him. Petyr Baelish straightened his collar, and smirked slightly. Turning, he walked towards the small council chamber. The servants parted for him in the halls, bowing their heads slightly to the self-made man. When he arrived, he waved his hand, and the doors opened. Only two people were inside the small council chamber at this time. Queen Cersei Lannister, and Ser Jaime Lannister. He bowed to them, and Cersei tapped her fingers on the table.

"Well? What did he have to say to your accusation?" she queried. Petyr Baelish put his hands behind his back, because he knew she would not like his answer.

"He told me that we had nothing on him. Which we do not. Any and all personal matters he handles here in the capital, are secret. And everything else he does, makes him admired by the populace," Baelish said. Cersei's grip on the arm of her chair tightened, and Jaime Lannister rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Explain yourself, Littlefinger," Jaime Lannister said, purposefully using the name the man had been mocked for. Baelish cleared his throat.

"At my... establishments... the women tell me what the common folk say when they make deliveries. They marvel at his skill, and applaud him for defeating the Mountain. There are even rumors spreading that he's bested you, Ser Jaime, on more than one occasion. Needless to say, the people are singing his praises," Baelish informed. Both Jaime and Cersei looked at each other. Their opponent was already popular with the commoners. Any attempt made against him, could anger the people.

"Well then, we'll just have to find some other way of eliminating him," Cersei said. Baelish bowed and left the room. The two siblings came together, looking into each other's eyes. No words were said. They simply kissed. And in the shadows of a pillar in the small council chamber, a pair of deep green eyes peered out. They observed the incestuous couple with a mischievous smirk.