Petyr Baelish x Reader { Sophisticated Deception }

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"Y/N, GET YER FACKIN ARSE BACK OVER TO YER POST!" Donno, one of the several wildling escapees that had made it south of the wall a couple of months ago, uncaught. You had been living what you considered a pretty rich life, raiding villages, living off of milk, water, cider, ale, whiskey; juicy loins from cows, steaks, stag livers- a variety of Northern food. And currently, you were on watch by the side of the King's Road, for small, passing groups of unsuspecting travellers. It was a new strategy, and you didn't know how successful it would be, but you were determined to find out- who knew what kind of fresh food's and pretty things you could gain?

"Shut your bloody gob before I stick a few arrows through your lips." Was your growled response, and after a moment of intense staring between both of you, your eyes stinging in that ever-biting, frosted wind, you wheezed out a laugh and both of you roared for a few moments, before you casually returned to your position behind a fallen tree, before some bushes. You deftly swiped up your Ironwood bow, a proud thing to own considering only a few weeks ago you had what could only be described as a bent, splintered stick for a bow, with a 'bow'string that only just about rebounded when you shot with it.

Your squatted stance was steely, as you patiently waited, a single, smooth arrow held in your hand, all prepared against a lowered bow- no need to tire out your arms until it was one hundred percent necessary.

Then you heard the dust-stirring pound of a horse's hooves upon the dark, soiled road. Your bow rose in an instance, and the bow-arm pulled back so hard, that a single tug more might have snapped the bow, so it truly bowed to you. You heard a couple of blunt snickers at your concentration, and you held a smile on one half of your face- They'd be the first to die. If they weren't, you might make sure they had a little accident in the fray.

The carriage closed in, not royal, and luckily not too armed- there appeared to be about four Lannister guards trotting behind calmly, with two riders at the front of the cart and, from your perception, 3 people within the actual carriage. It was rounded, fairly large, but it was entirely wooden, with gold and crimson paint, freshly adorned upon the woodwork.

You heard the double cooing of Donny, and your aim immediately snapped towards the closest front rider to you. Without hesitation you released an arrow and it landed cleanly in his skull, just above his ear, the force throwing him sideways, straight off the instantly panicking horse. The free-folk primarily assigned to close up attacks ran forward in bloodthirsty screams, mostly for the back of the carriage.

The next arrow came out just as quick as the last was shot, loaded and fired mercilessly at the other rider. His death was a repetition of the last man's; though it seemed you had fired maybe an inch of difference, into some blood vessel within his head, as a fresh spurt of crimson poured like wasted champagne onto the dirty terrain beneath them.

You hung your bow over your back then, pulling two knives from their sheathe and sprinting for the carriage- the men at the back were occupied, you had to make sure the main targets were not forgotten.

Diving inside of the carriage, you turned to the side with the most amount of men first, and though they cried, they were too large and their sigils too stupidly unfamiliar for you to care for them. You leaned in quickly and slit their throats, no thought into it. Then you heard commotion behind you and turned, about to leap at this next man- but something about him made you pause just for a minute. His clothes were rich, and fashionable, he had a sly glint in eyes that had no fear reflecting in them, and he had a silver pin- of a mockingbird.

He saw your hesitation and leaped for you with a knife of his own, but you kicked him back down with a heavy black fur boot, pressing hard with the boot and pointing your own rusty knife at his throat, "Nah, I don't feel like dying today. You seem ter think your life is worth livin'- more than these boys. Oh, hope you enjoy the bath by the way." You tormented, a mischievous glint flashing in your wild eyes.

He had a mixed expression- it started at surprise, moved to embarrassment, slid into frustration and even lingered at disgust- but then, he grinned, "Oh, my life is certainly worth living. And I'm worth keeping alive- you could get a lot of gold for my safety." He tempted, in such a voice that frustrated you- he seemed to think you were entirely thick in the head.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, "Aye, you can kill me after. Y'aint a Lannister, and ya from King's Landing. I don't even know why I'm keepin you alive now." You threatened, still holding a playful tone- you had to admit, he was a pretty sight in your eyes-

but you wouldn't let him know that.

He narrowed his eyes a little, muttering under his breath something that was meant to be inaudible- but with your good hearing and his lack of care for words spoken loud, you heard the hushed curse, "This isn't how things normally go with me..."

"Ahhh, isn't it? Shame. See, when it comes to me- my friends say I'm picky, I just like getting my way." You looked anxiously at the carriage's doors, and, still hearing fighting, you kicked back, using his chest as a boost, to sit- you smirked as he winced, but he didn't try to move. Leaning forward, you whispered, "I mean, I'm not an idiot enough to stay with this lot forever. When I get my right amount of gold, when I get some decent clothes... I'm out. I've got a nice weapon, now I just need to look the part."

He seemed to spring with delight at this, and chuckled darkly, "They say great minds think alike- and great minds achieve great things. I've betrayed my share of people to get where I am, I believe we have some similar traits-" He paused for a moment, considering his words, before leaning just slightly closer, and mumbling, "Kill me now, and those clothes, that gold? They're months away. Run with me, away from folk, and you can get them at the nearest town. And then, I'll introduce you to the game I've been playing for a while."

You stared at him closely then considered what he had offered. You knew he would not feel any guilt against betraying you- but then again... "Alright. But remember this. I have no conscience. The second you betray me, I will be close enough to you to slit your throat. If I'm not? I'll shoot you. Funnily enough, I happen to be best at a bow, out of everything I fight with. You want me to put all that in simple terms? Don't mess me over. Deal?" You countered, thrusting out a hand.

His cold, slender fingers gripped it with an iron hold, and suddenly pulled you forward. Would he kill you? He had his knife in his other hand-


You mentally cursed at your stupidity, as you were thrown forward and you crashed into him, shivering as his icy breath blew against your neck, "All the same. I have just as little hesitation- although I'd like to know how you're going to stop me killing you in your sleep."

This felt like a trick, or a test, and you replied back, "Firstly- no. You pig. Secondly? Oh, I don't need to worry about that. If you wanted to kill me? You'd have done it earlier. As of now, I have no use to you. And vice versa. Quite a funny arrangement really. Now, do you want to die, or do you want to run? Preferably, I'd assume the second, s-so let go, and run." You replied, your entire being sinking at the one single slip up of words.

As for turning the tables, it seemed like you'd been holding the table right above your head- but now it was toppling and he saw this clearly, grabbing at the 'table' as you both leapt out of the carriage, beginning to run, "Stuttering? My my, what could have caused that?"

"Sh-shut up- ffffff....." You almost yelled out, but remembered the precarious situation, simply ended the current dialogue with,

"Remember: Rusted knife, pointy bow. Now shut your gob and get to that post."

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