Game of Thrones: Fanfic: A plot to murder

[m_findlow]

Title: A plot to murder
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters: Lady Olenna, Petyr Baelish, Ser Dontos
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 939 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for findlow's prompt "Game of Thrones, Lady Olenna, a plot to murder" at fic_promptly
Summary: Lord Baelish makes an offer too good to refuse.

Lady Olenna held her cup of tea carefully, watching as Lord Baelish arrived, sitting down opposite her.

'I've always enjoyed the art of drinking tea,' he said, pouring a cup with deliberate patience. 'They say it is the secret to long life.'

She made an unimpressed sound. 'Give me a good brandy any day.'

He smiled over the edge of the cup. 'Quite. Such a nice afternoon for us to gather here for tea, though.'

'Don’t patronise me with your simpering, Lord Baelish. We all know the only interests you serve are your own.'

'Much like House Tyrrell,' he replied.

'And just look where we are now,' she said, setting the cup in her lap. 'A failed marriage to one Baratheon and in the meantime we were supplanted from the next heir by a Stark of all people.'

Petyr set his own cup down, ignoring the platter of figs, cheese and grapes. 'I don’t believe Sansa Stark was any more pleased with arrangements than you were,' he replied. 'Still, all's well that ends well? Margaery got what she wanted, a Baratheon husband.'

'And yet our feelings on the matter hardly count for anything, do they? That boy is a dangerous beast and we all know it. Margaery will be lucky to survive to see her first child the way that brute carries on. If it weren't for his position, Sansa Stark could gladly have him.'

Petyr gave her a knowing smile. 'Might I suggest a proposition for you, my good lady?'

She eyed him with suspicion. 'I’m listening,' she said carefully.

He lounged back in the chair, resting his elbow on the back of it. 'I was only thinking that weddings are very busy affairs. Lots of people coming and going. Lots of food and wine. Who could keep track of it all, I ask you?'

'Go on,' she said, her interest piqued.

'Well, a king might find himself indulging rather more on food and wine than he ought to. It is his wedding day after all. If someone were to perhaps slip something in the King’s share of the feast, well, who could say where it had come from?'

Lady Olenna mulled over the statement, putting all the pieces in place. 'And so if something were to happen to the King, the next in line for the throne would be Prince Tommen?'

'A perfect match for your granddaughter, I’d say. Tommen is a sweet boy with a good disposition. Why, Margaery might even consider showing some interest in him. After the proper period of mourning, of course. She would be rightly devastated by the untimely demise of yet another husband.'

Lady Olenna eyed him. 'I’m still trying to understand how you might benefit from such an arrangement.'

He gave her a little nod. 'I have my own price to ask, of course.'

'Of course. Name it.'

'Sansa Stark.'

Olenna scoffed. 'And what would you want with the Stark girl? She’s hardly enough sense in her for any of your scheming plots.'

Petyr kept his body language loose and relaxed. 'Call it a personal interest. The Starks have always been kind to me.'

She forced out a short, sharp laugh. 'You don't strike me as the kind who likes to repay favours. And how do you propose to go about this undertaking?'

'I have many friends in my employ who are more than suited to the task.'

She sat up a little straighter. 'I should like to know who is to do this.' She wasn’t so foolish as to let Lord Baelish pull all the strings without her knowledge. If it all went wrong, she wanted a name to point the finger toward.

Pertyr gave her a smile. 'I imagined you might ask me that. Fortunately, I came prepared.' He stood up and walked over to the door, opening it. 'Come in. We’re all friends here,' he said. 'Lady Olenna, I believe you know of our royal fool Ser Dontos?'

She folded her arms. Baelish was truly mad. 'You mean to have the deed done by a fool?'

Ser Dontos stepped toward her, bowing awkwardly with his bowlegged gait. 'I’m no fool, my lady,' he replied. 'A terrible drunk and a shame to my house, but Sansa Stark has been kind to me and spared my life. I would be most honoured to repay her mercy.'

'And who better?' Lord Baelish said, clapping the man on the back. 'Who would suspect a fool of carrying out such a thing?'

'I'm still wondering what you require of me,' she said. There was a price to be paid for ensuring her granddaughter ended up queen to a king that wouldn't flay the skin from her body.

'All I ask is a gift,' Petyr replied. 'I understand you are quite well known to the jewellers of King’s Landing. I might have some specific requirements for a piece that I would like to give to Sansa Stark to wear on the big day. It seems only fair that after losing out to Lady Margaery, that she should have something nice to remember the day by.'

'And how does your fool play into this? Will he be stumbling over the King's goblet?'

'He will be our gift bearer. A family heirloom I should think, don't you, Ser Dontos?' He nodded mutely in agreement. 'You need only admire its jewels, Olenna. Why, you might be so enamored that one comes off into your hand.'

She leant back in the plush chair. 'So, you do need me, after all.'

Petyr leant over conspiratorially. 'Ask yourself, Lady Olenna. What cause could you have to kill the king?'