Knee Socks and Favors

Chapter 4 - A Kitten

Petyr Baelish sat smug with a newspaper at the dining table when the sliding doors were forcefully pushed open. He peered above his paper with disinterest. The half-Stark boy came rushing through, a fierce look of determination on his face, dark eyes directed towards him. Baelish smiled—how predictable of the young man.

Sensing a much anticipated conversation coming on, Baelish carefully placed his newspaper onto the dining table, flattening out the edges before turning his attention to the flustered bastard Stark.

"Ah, what a fine morning it is..." He reached for his steaming coffee mug, watching in mild amusement as the young man frowned. How fortunate that looks could not kill. Perhaps then Rosie and her half-brother would have offed him years ago...The amusing thought elicited a smile in him as he took a sip of the bitter drink, the action only furthering the deep-set frown on Jon's face.

"I sense you'd like to breach the topic of your younger sister Rose?" Baelish directed his smile to the frowning young man before him, twinkling eyes flicking to the boy's gradually tightening fist. He knew that the boy wouldn't resort to violence...as long as he refrained from pushing too far.

At the sound of his sister's name on Baelish's tongue, Jon's jaw tightened as he fixed his glare onto the smug man sitting before him in his family's kitchen casually.

"Stay away from her," He warned angrily. The older man sighed into his coffee, masking his annoyance with a polite smile.

"I assure you, Jon, I only have your sister's best interest in mind," He met the irate boy's gaze calmly, catching the twitch in his jaw with silent amusement.

" I know where your interests rest, and do not rope Rosie into your schemes," His hands slammed on the table as he stared Baelish down.

Baelish watched on in contemplative silence. Foolish child...If only he knew his true interest. The boy would burn in his own rage if he knew how particular his plans were when it came to his very pretty auburn-haired sister. As much as he wished to watch such a spectacle, it was far too early.

"I understand you care dearly for your younger siblings. That is an excellent and rare trait for a young man such as yourself. Your mother and father raised you well," At those low words, the color drained from the boy's face.

"You-" The door opened as Jon took a step towards Baelish, a tired Rickon entering the kitchen with dragging slippered feet.

"Good morning, young man. You rise early," Baelish smiled kindly at the young boy as he rubbed sleep from his young eyes, a lopsided grin growing on the child's face as he perked up upon hearing the praise and seeing the steaming cup in front of Baelish.

"Can I try a little cow-fee? Mum says I can't have any...She says it'll make me crazy..." The young boy moved towards the table, fidgeting and smiling cheekily at a silent Jon and him before Baelish let out a measured chuckle.

"You're mother's right, my boy. I'm afraid the coffee has already gotten to my scheming brain. Just ask your older brother," Baelish teased, his smile growing playful and Rickon giggling in hilarity at the unknown "adult" words as Jon gave the older man a warning look before turning to face his youngest sibling with a forced smile.

"Sorry, Rickon. Your mother said no..." Jon spoke gently, the little boy sighing dramatically and glowering at him before pouting and stomping his way out of the kitchen.

"You're no fun, Jon!"

Baelish smiled as he watched the dramatics unfold. He sighed, lifting his drink to sip its bitter contents in satisfaction at the brooding and glaring young man who was now watching his sibling huff off in dismay.