Chapter 89: Petyr again
The walk back was a blur to him as he'd arrive at his tent, slinging his blades off his back before going to the storage chest. Opening it, he'd grab a Swallow potion and gulp it down, giving a deep sigh as the potent mixture coursed through his body, he ran stromlight through his vessels slowly repairing his wounds.
Removing his armour and bloodied cut up clothes, changing into a pair of fresh pants before collecting some water and rags to clean himself up. Wiping off blood, sweat and dirt, he paused as he heard someone nearing his tent before continued.
"May I enter Jason?" Lord Baelish spoke out behind the tent flap.
There was silence for a moment. "Fine…come in."
Littlefinger entered the tent, his gaze quickly set on the Surgebinder as he'd see the many scars that covered his body. Claw marks, bite prints, sword cuts and stab wounds marred his pale skin, a brutal physical history of Jason's dangerous lifestyle.
"I'm no man of warfare…yet can't imagine how anyone would endure so many wounds," Petyr muttered.
"Always been a survivor," Jason answered back as he'd get a dry rag to finish cleaning himself off. "Can say Ser Jaime pushed me for the first time in months."
"It was indeed a fantastic duel between you two, along of course toppling the infamous Mountain. You've accomplished more then what most men would ever believe."
"I take you were doubtful of my success?"
"To a degree. RRumourand claim can only go so far. I can say I lost at least one bet I made…not a serious lost considering my other winnings."
Jason sighed as he'd toss the last rag aside. "And the point? I take you didn't come here to have a friendly chat over your betting habits."
"True…I wished to inform you that Lady Stark has been safely escorted out of the city. My agents reported this to me not long after the Melee ended."
"Good. Glad that is one matter taken care of. Anything else?"
Baelish paced around the tent, gaze looking to the swords set nearby. "I am curious about your investigations as well. Have you confronted Tyrion yet?"
"Yes." Jason simply answered
"And?"
"He claims to have never won the dagger." The Surgebinder grabbed the sheathed weapon, holding it up for emphasis. "Said he saw you handing it off to King Robert after his son's naming day tournament."
"An interesting story."
"You deny it?"
"I think you're being too trusting to the dwarf's answers."
Jason's gaze narrowed at how Baelish avoided a straight answer. "I can say I trust him more than you."
Petyr chuckled at the Surgebinder's answer, giving a small shrug in response. "True, but have you never considered that Tyrion may be using you for his own ends? Using that trust to mislead you?"
Suddenly Littlefinger was shoved up to one of the posts supporting the tent, Jason's hand at his neck much like Ned's had been outside the brothel. A shocked look showed on Petyr's face as he'd gasp out, grasping at the Surgebinder's strong grip.
"You know…Lord Stark was right about you. You're a funny man." Jason muttered coldly. "Why so focused on putting suspicion on Tyrion? Some grudge between you."
"Ugh…no…you're misunderstanding!" Baelish gasped out.
"Now?" He'd lift the man a foot off the ground, making Petyr struggle more. "Because misleading me would be an unwise choice. After what you saw today you'd know that by now." Suddenly, he'd let go, dropping the lord down onto his knees. "Now the truth."
Taking a few shaky breaths, Baelish nodded as he'd stand up and straighten himself. He did well to hide his shaken look on his face after taking a moment to calm himself. "I'll admit, Tyrion and I have had a rivalry at times. However, my reasons were for the King's wellbeing…"
"Wellbeing?"
"If you had learned immediately about Robert's ownership of the dagger, you may have reacted hastily at least from my point of view. We have only known each other for a short while and after seeing your first encounter with the King during the Small Council…it was obvious he and you don't see eye to eye."
Jason had to admit the man had a fair point, even if it was grudgingly. "So why the false story on Tyrion?"
"Because he'd tell the truth, one that you'd know for certain was true. Again I am sorry for misleading on the matter, I had to be sure you'd approach things in a reasonable matter."
Despite the man's answer, Jason didn't fully buy the whole being tested claim. However, he didn't speak openly against it, although his sharp eyes no doubt showed the distrust he felt. "So then…you betted the dagger to Robert, which he won. I doubt though he'd hire an assassin to kill his best friend's son, much less in a clumsy manner."
"Yet a lot of people close to him would no doubt have access to it. What if the King had gifted it to a friend or someone within the family?"
"Does thin out the list…" Already he was thinking over possible suspects and possible motives.
Cersei didn't seem the type to be gifted a dagger and was far from foolish enough to give it to an assassin, even if Bran may have seen her cheating with someone else. Jaime was a fitting choice, but he and Robert don't seem to be friends, being more of a professional level between King and royal guard. Neither of Robert's brothers where at Winterfell and they don't seem to have a good bond with their eldest brother. That left only one individual…one that is foolish enough to set up the assassination.
"Going to need to talk to the King before I decide on anything."
Petyr seemed to realize Jason had some kind of revelation yet didn't question the Surgebinder on the matter. "That may be simple considering. The King may very well invite you for dinner tonight…that is if the queen allows it."
Already Jason remembered that horrible cry she had made when she had thought her brother had been cut down. "Guess he'll send someone for me if that happens."
"I'd be on my guard if I were you. If you didn't have everyone's attention before you will now after your grand victory. Watch yourself among the nobility."
"I can handle myself."
"Heh…I have no doubts about that." The man paced for the tent flap out, stopping just before it. "Is there anything else I can do for you though? Perhaps there is something I can do to help."
Jason didn't answer at first, not wanting to openly ask help from the smug nobleman. "Just keep an ear to the ground for anything odd. Maybe you can keep me informed of Gregor if he somehow recovers quickly and tries anything."
"Simple enough. Ah right…should see Tyrion later as well once things settle down. After all, you do have your reward to pick up." Giving a short bow, Petyr moved to leave. "Enjoy your evening Ser Jason."
Watching the man step out, he'd sigh in annoyance. "Slippery bastard…" he didn't like dealing with sneaky manners and the politic bullshit. Deep down he knew the man was helping for his own ends, yet what he wasn't certain. Despite the distrust, he was an ally Eddard if things in court took a bad turn. Already all the worrying tired him, as if the soreness of battle wasn't enough. Getting a blanket to lay on the ground, he'd shift down to meditate, wanting to at least quickly pass the time until the evening when Tyrion and other others would be finished with their duties.
Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and closed his eyes as he entered his trance, enjoying what short peace he had for the rest of the day.
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