"The Royal family has returned, sadly the tragic events in Winterfell have cast a pall over everything, though his Grace is determined to throw a tourney for Lord Stark" gushed Littlefinger, he really liked this rather insulting name for Lord Baelish, and he was using it with increasing frequency.
"Yes, Lord Starks younger son Brandon passed away a few days after his fall, apparently from a murder most foul," Varys added, keen not be left out in reporting news that he actually already knew.
Precognition and the interpretation of dreams were arts long instinctive in him and everything had pointed to this Brandon Stark being a future problem for him, so he had made sure that an assassin had travelled north with the Kings party. Not that the individual involved would have every know that they would be carrying out such a task, they were one of his agents, whom he used from time to time to watch and listen in the Red Keep, and rifle through their memories for anything useful to him. In other word's an almost perfect spy and an even better assassin.
Brandon Starks direwolf had savaged the assassin and killed the man, but not before his minds urging had driven the man to burry a dagger in the lad's chest, ignoring the direwolf that was busily trying to chew his face off. His control over ones such as these was something he really enjoyed here on Planetos, it was something he had never experienced to such a powerful extent on earth, more's the pity he mused.
The man had been a Lannister servant, and this had of course set off all sorts of chaos and strife, grist for Baelish's mill obviously, and perfectly acceptable for his plans also. As had the letter that Baelish had Lysa Arryn send to her sister, so that the party that had arrived back in Kings Landing was riven with factionalism and barely suppressed hatred.
From his trawls through Baelish's memory, it was obvious that he was lusting after Ned Stark's daughter Sansa, who appeared to have replaced her mother in the little cunt's fevered fantasies. Well that particular pretty flame haired cunt was never going to know the wet kiss of Baelish's particularly tiny cock, of that he was certain, and neither would her intended husband Joffrey, the idiotic and inbreed Crown Prince, who was the Lady Sansa's betrothed.
Who no doubt had an equally tiny cock, no, the Lady Sansa deserved a deflowering of the kind that only a wamphyri could give her, of that he was certain. And all in good time he promised himself, and the unwitting girl, all in good time. For did not the anticipation sharpen the appetite for the joys of their eventual and destined union?
Of which the girl was sadly unaware just what delights awaited her, but never mind, he had plenty to occupy himself in the meantime
"The demise of Lord Stannis?" he asked casually, waiting to see which one of his thralls would answer first.
Varys got there a hair before Baelish. "The body of Lord Stannis was consigned to the sea on the orders of Lord Davos Seaworth, much to the annoyance of his Grace, who wanted Lord Stannis's body to be shipped back to Storms End. His wife and child still reside on Dragonstone, though Queen Cersei agitates for them to be evicted and for her son Prince Joffrey to be named Prince of Dragonstone, though she does not agitate for the dear boy to actually travel to the island to take up his duties."
"Littlefinger?" he asked, knowing from the look on the mans face that he had something salacious to report.
"I have discovered the love nest that is being used by Lord Renly and his squire Loras Tyrell the Master of Coin reported breathlessly, glee evident in every word he said.
"Oh, and when are they in occupation of this love nest?" he asked in a bass grunt, wondering if he would be able to deal with two birds with one stone as it were.
"Right now, if my sources are correct!"
"Indeed, well in that case I will have to attend to this immediately myself, who is watching the place?"
"Darrok my Lord" came back the instant reply, and he reached out with his mind to find Darrok, eventually locating him and slipping easily into his mind, to see through his eyes and hear through his ears. He pondered the situation, leaving an unconscious command in Darrok's mind to call out to him should the two men leave their current location.
"I must be about my business; however I would appreciate it if Septon's in either of your control were alerted to the fact of the whereabouts of Lord Renly and his rent boy Lord Loras. Tyrell. They should discover them first thing in the morning, and Baelish?"
"Yes master?"
"Make sure that the scene is not disturbed until the dear Septon's arrive in the morning..."
"Of course master" he replied obsequiously.
He shed his clothing and dressed in rougher clothing and donned a cloak, leaving the Brothel by a rear doorway and striding off into the night, he knew Kings Landing like the back of his hand now, and it was late and a thin drizzle was falling. The streets were thus mostly deserted, and none gave him more that a single glance, until he reached his destination in one of the more up market sections of the city, nearby to the Iron Gate.
The place was rather non-descript, a small manse that stood on its own ground, surrounded by a high, gated wall. He scanned the place with his various senses, only two people inside and both were far too engaged with each other to be observant or aware of their surroundings.
Perfect for his purposes as he easily vaulted the wall and landed silently in the rathe overgrown, though narrow garden that surrounded the three-story house. He checked the downstairs doors and windows, all locked, he could smash them open, but he did not want to draw the attention of the two lovers locked in their passionate embrace.
Scaling the walls, he found that the door off a balcony was open, the very balcony off the bedroom where Ser Loras was getting vigorously fucked up the arse by his lover Lord Renly. He climbed silently over the railings of the balcony and waited for the pair to cease their activities, he pondered if he should join the pair of them, he was no stranger to the use of the male anus in extenuating circumstances, mostly for feeding purposes though it had to be said. But a little buggery now and then was perfectly acceptable was it not?
The pair of them finished eventually but by this time he was frankly bored and decided that he would merely drain the pair of their blood, and by the old-fashioned means, with fangs tearing out throats. He let the skin on his face reshape itself and simply rose to his full height and stepped into the room, eliciting an immediate scream from Loras Tyrell, he darted forwards and chocked off this sound with a hand around his throat, Renly tried to drat away to reach his clothing and his sword, its scabbard hanging from a belt draped over a chair.
"Ah, ah, ah!" he grunted in reproach, moving swiftly to block Renly's lunge and wrapping his other hand around Renly's throat
He hauled both of the struggling and naked men towards him, both of them trying frantically to claw at his hands wrapped around each of their throats, slowly choking them.
"Well, well, well... the question is which one first eh?" he growled though a face full of fangs, noticing that Lord Renly had pissed himself, that made his decision for him and he yanked Renly towards him, opened his jaws wide and slipped up his hand that was gripping Renly's neck to grasp him by the back of his head as he tore out his throat and proceeded to feed, ignoring the horrified gasps and frantic struggles of Loras Tyrell.
Once Renly was drained, he dropped the corpse to the floor, as he swept his gaze back to Loras Tyrell he spied something beside their bed, he took a few steps closer and realized what it was, a tub of lubricant, popular in Lys, and something he had used when he wanted his partners to enjoy anal sex as opposed to suffer unduly from his intrusion into their rears.
That gave him an altogether different idea and he unbuckled his trousers to free his cock, which hardened commendably for the occasion.
Reaching down he liberally smeared his cock with the cream like lubricant, its distinctive floral smell bringing back pleasant memories of his time in Volantis, before that red witch had spoiled it. Loras had cottoned on to what was about to happen, and he was whimpering and pleading, so he decided to humor the lad.
"I'm going to fuck you to death, so you will die happy!" as he placed the weakly struggling lad face down on the bed and lined himself up with the rather reddened and swollen arsehole of Tyrell boy.
Without warning he pushed himself inside the boy, he was commendably tight for all that he had just been being buggered, but instead of thrusting he just let his flesh expand and elongate inside the lad, filling him to bursting as his surging flesh tore him apart, frantically
burrowing tentacles of his flesh whipping and writhing inside the lad, greedily consuming his blood as he expired from the rupturing that he was undergoing
He withdrew and cleaned himself off on a bedsheet that was not stained crimson and other less savory colors before he dressed and departed the way he came, his job done for the evening.