His two trusted thralls knelt before him, their heads bowed as was only right and proper.
"The King has left for Winterfell as predicted" intoned Baelish, his voice eager to report this news.
"Princess Danaerys and Prince Viserys are to remain in Pentos as the guests of Illyrio Mopatis, a comrade of mine, the negotiations with the Dothraki have been halted, though the Prince knows nothing of this, and the fool still thinks that the Magister is negotiating with the Horse savages."
"Good, good" he replied, knowing the truth of what they reported from their open minds.
"Should mercenary forces be necessary for the return of the rightful King I have made the required preparations, several mercenary companies have been placed on retainers to allow them to be called at short notice" Baelish quickly added. Said retainers were being paid from his stash of coin pilfered from the Iron Throne, a fair bargain to his mind for this crooked little cunt. Who did have his uses, not the least of which was this brothel and its denizens, along with his ability to provide him with regular choice titbits to feed upon.
"In addition, the Golden Company stands ready to assist Aegon to reclaim what is rightfully his," added Varys.
He had decided that this Aegon fool would become the next King of Westeros, and that he would marry sweet little Daenerys, it was the best outcome and the one which led to the least possible problems. The lad would forever remain unaware that he was the get of that fat cunt lilyrio Mopatis, and would rule as a Targaryen, with his secret support of course
Once the Iron Throne was back in its proper hands, he would need somewhere to live in the Red Keep that was appropriate to his standards and needs, along with a regular source of sustenance, he was thinking that the jails and prisons could provide a decent enough source of food. But the jails would provide him with just blood, and not the other pleasures that so often accompanied his meals, so he might yet have need of Baelish, if only to provide him with what he had become accustomed to. But then again, did her really need Baelish to provide him with this? Were there not many other procurers and brothel madams who could select the choicest cuts of their stock for his delectation?
And as to somewhere to live within the Red Keep, Varys, who had the best overall maps of the complex system that underlay the great castle perched atop Aegon's hill, was looking into this for him.
A suitable site on the northern face of the cliffs that fell away below the Red Keeps walls was being investigated and Varys was making the necessary preparations for workmen to start hollowing out the chambers that he would live in. His quarters would of course be furnished to the most luxurious of standards and would be connected to the network of secret tunnels and passageways that riddled the hill and the castle above.
It did annoy him somewhat that he would have to hide away like this, that his name, his sigil, would not attain the fame and...notoriety that he knew it deserved. But on earth his deeds had been struck from the records, forgotten deliberately, while those of that cursed ingratiate of a son of his Thibor, had been subsumed into the legends of a mere human, one of the many rulers of Wallachia that Thibor had served down the centuries.
"Lord Stannis intends to flee the capital tomorrow" added Varys, always keen to trump Baelish in their constant game of one-upmanship.
"Oh? So soon?" he asked of Varys.
"Yes master, a ship has been readied and it will sail on the tide later on tonight, at the hour of the wolf."
"Alas, I am afraid that our Master of Ships cannot be allowed to flee Kings Landing" he replied, his mind instantly alert and plotting the necessary moves and actions he would need to take
"The galley 'Fury' is the ship Lord Stannis will take to return to Dragonstone, it lies in the roads off Kings Landing, about two leagues from the entrance of the Blackwater rush into the bay" added Varys, in that infuriatingly simpering manner of his.
"Thank you Varys," he replied, sending out a call in his mind to the many agents he had suborned in Kings Landing to his service, notably many of Varys's so called "little birds", aletting them to be on the lookout for the departure of Lord Stannis. The man's ugly wife and scarred daughter having already left for Dragonstone before the King had departed on his debauched trip to the northern reaches of his kingdom.
One of his agents reported back that he had observed the departure preparations already and that Lord Stannis was expected to leave the Red Keep shortly after nightfall.
He let a smile cross his features at that, for the night was his time and he should be easily able to deal with even the most heavily defended target.
He queried his thralls some more on various things before he dismissed them, settling down to reach out with his mind to touch those he would use as his eyes and ears to watch for the departure of Lord Stannis.
After several hours he had seen and heard enough, he departed Baelish's brothel for the tunnels under Kings Landing and he made haste for the Red Keep. He was not actually going to the Red Keep, he was aiming for some tunnels that ended up below its walls and with exits. out onto the rock face of the promontory that the Red Keep was perched atop.
He made it there as he spied the Fury beginning to pull away from Kings Landing, his eyesight as keen as that of any eagle. He disrobed until he stood naked under the pale moon and starlight and willed the changes to his flesh that he required.
His great frame thinned and became spindly, his arms and legs lengthening and extending, his fingers and toes lengthening massively. His flesh flowed between his arms and legs to form great membranous wings, his face twisting to that of his wamphyri form, his skin turning a leaden slug grey.
Once his bat like form was complete, he took a few steps back and the ran forwards to launch himself out into the night winds above Blackwater Bay, soaring and beating his wings to bring him away from the Red Keep and out further over the bay.
He kept his eyes glued to the Fury as its sails filled and he glided towards it, keeping easy pace with the vessel as it ploughed its way through the wine dark seas below. As the darkness deepened and the full gloom of the night enfolded, clouds passing overhead, plunging the seas below into pitch darkness, he plummeted downwards towards his target, circling twice to avoid overtaking the ship he eventually settled down astern of the ship, low to the water and rapidly overtaking it.
He flared his wings at the last moment to alight on one of the stern galleries in near total silence, his flesh melding back into himself to return him to his wamphyri form. He sniffed at the air and his ears twitched, his mind expanding to probe the ether.
Lord Stannis was in conference with another man, he settled down to wait, he was in no hurry and he was unlikely to be discovered where he was perched, instead he scanned the ship with his mental senses to see if there was anything interesting to be learned.
There was not and by the time he was finished so was Stannis, the man leaving him with a heartfelt sounding good night to his lord.
He waited some time more, until Stannis had turned in for the evening, reaching out with his mind to push Stannis into a deeper unconsciousness. With that completed he gently forced his way into the cabin and crept silently to the sleeping form of his meal, without hesitation he clamped his great, slavering jaws onto the man's neck, slicing the flesh to ribbons and began to feed greedily, gulping down the hot, pumping blood as the man's heart propelled his crimson life force strongly into his mouth.
Soon the heart began to falter and eventually it spasmed and ceased pumping, its liquid cargo all either splashed over his face or safely in his stomach, where it was being devoured by his leech
He stood up and as usual gave the body's neck a swift jerk to break it, before he retreated the way he came. Instead of jumping off the rear of the ship he climbed up to peek over the railing of the upper deck, two men were on watch, he reached out with his mind to maze them sufficiently so that they would not see him.
He hopped up onto the deck and began climbing up the rearmost of the masts, until he went as high as he could, where he willed the change to his bat like form, and them leapt free and out into the darkness, falling until his wings beat him upwards and away from the ship. An hour later he alighted at the hidden cave entrance below the Red Keep and shed his bat like shape to regain his human countenance, dressed swiftly and returned to the brothel of Littlefinger.
Once inside a meal of normal fare was waiting for him, which he ate of, despite not being hungry, he was disciplined enough to know that he had to eat of this, coarse nourishment often enough to maintain his disguise. He always tried to maintain the illusion of being a mortal man, well at least with those whom he did not intend to consume shortly thereafter.
Once replete he reached out with his mind for the troubled mind of Ser Barristan Selmy, who was dreaming fitfully in the white sword tower. He had encountered some frustrating difficulties with the mind of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who had proved to be stubborn in hanging on to the memories he wanted to erase and replace with ones more suitable for his purposes.
But the old knight was just a man, and he was a wamphyri, he would win in the end and Ser Barristan would be molded to suit his purposes, just as Baelish and Varys had been.