"Petyr," Catelyn Stark's voice held a note of warning.
Flexing his fingers, Petyr withdrew his hand. "Lady Catelyn, I had absolutely no intention of offending you. I thought..."
He trailed off, shaking his head with a pained expression.
That look on Petyr's face stirred vivid memories in Catelyn... He had always been cunning and clever, even as a child. Whenever he caused trouble, he would always put on this expression of deep regret. It was a natural talent of his.
Seeing Catelyn lost in thought, Petyr said gently, "Cat, you shouldn't be here."
Catelyn blinked. Petyr's intimate address made her frown slightly. A hint of anger entered her voice, "Petyr, you should address me as Lady Stark, or Lady Catelyn."
Petyr gave a small shrug. "As you wish, Lady Catelyn. You may call me Littlefinger, just like when we were children."
Catelyn sensed the disappointment hidden beneath Petyr's playful tone, and her heart softened for a moment... Littlefinger was her father's ward. They shared beautiful childhood memories. She had loved him, but it was the affection of an older sister for her younger brother.
Thinking of this, Catelyn hardened her heart once more. For his sake, and for her own, there should be no intimacy between them.
She changed the subject directly, her tone cold. "Petyr, aren't you a member of the Small Council? Why are you at the Eyrie?"
Petyr sighed softly. "Lady Catelyn, haven't you heard of the Alliance of the Righteous on your way here?"
He paused, then continued, "Such a fine-sounding name. I think calling them the Rebel Alliance would be a more fitting description."
With that, Petyr turned to the side, extended a hand, and made a gesture of invitation.
Catelyn gave a slight nod and began to walk.
As they walked, Catelyn glanced at Petyr beside her. "I heard some rather unbelievable news from my uncle Brynden."
A flicker of light crossed Petyr's eyes. "Unbelievable indeed..."
He turned his head to look at Catelyn, a somewhat bitter smile on his face. "So... you should understand now why I am here, shouldn't you?"
Her... Lysa... Littlefinger... If that sudden duel had never happened, perhaps he and I would not have to act like two strangers.
After a moment of silence, Catelyn spoke. "Petyr, what is your view? Why would... Lysa do such a thing?"
Catelyn stared straight ahead, her voice no longer so frigid.
The corners of Petyr's lips curved up slightly. "Lady Catelyn, you are a good wife. You choose to believe your husband. But my choice is to believe Lady Lysa."
He lightly scratched his forehead with his index finger. "What are the words of your House Tully again?"
Catelyn's throat felt dry. She answered stiffly, "Family, Duty, Honor."
After speaking, she looked at Petyr and said coldly, "Ned is my husband, and Lysa is my sister. I very much hope this is all a misunderstanding. Otherwise, I would not have walked through these doors."
"My lady, you misunderstand my meaning..."
Petyr sighed and continued to explain, "Family, Duty, Honor. Every single one of these requires you to obey Lord Eddard's command and remain in Winterfell."
He stopped walking and said earnestly, "Leave this to me. Let me send you away from here."
Catelyn also stopped and frowned. "Petyr, it sounds as if you're saying my sister would bring harm to me, her own sibling."
Petyr spread his hands. "Cat, this is difficult for me. I don't want you to think I am sowing discord between you sisters. We are old friends. I hope you can choose to trust me this once."
Catelyn's eyes trembled slightly. She gazed at Littlefinger's earnest face and said, "Petyr, I can only trust your honest words."
Petyr hesitated for a moment, then slowly began to speak. "The truth is that Lysa feels your family has betrayed her."
He added, "The truth is that when I pleaded for Lysa, your husband the Hand not only stripped me of the position I had worked so hard to climb to, but he also threw me in a cell."
Catelyn murmured, "How could that be..."
Her eyes widened, and she said resolutely, "Petyr, I believe Ned. He has a heart for justice."
Petyr shrugged. "Lady Catelyn, Lady Lysa cannot accept it either."
He wore a helpless expression and continued, "You believe your husband is right... Lysa's anger is justified... and what about me? Our goals are aligned—to resolve this misunderstanding. Old friends should help one another. Of course, I reserve my own opinion on Lord Eddard's actions, but this will not affect the friendship between you, Lysa, and me."
He chuckled and added teasingly, "At the very least, I can't bring myself to like your husband for the time being. I hope you can understand. That room your husband locked me in didn't have a single ray of light. He can be truly ruthless."
...
*Knock, knock, knock.*
With his left hand behind his back, Petyr raised his right and knocked on the door panel, his movements exceptionally graceful.
Without waiting for a response from within, Petyr pulled the door open. He turned his head to look at Catelyn, a slight smile on his lips. "Lady Catelyn, please enter."
His eyes shifted slightly, and he added, "Lysa gave specific instructions that you were not to be kept waiting outside."
Catelyn nodded slightly and stepped forward.
...
Before a dressing table, Lysa was draped in a night robe. Her long, auburn hair was undone, cascading over her bare shoulders and down her back.
A handmaiden stood behind Lysa, combing through the tangles from her sleep.
"Oh, Cat, it's so good to see you."
The moment Catelyn's figure appeared, Lysa immediately rose with a beaming smile. She ran across the room and hugged her sister tightly. "My dearest sister, we haven't seen each other in so long!"
Lysa hugged Catelyn and murmured, "Oh, it's been so, so long."
They had not seen each other in five years. To Catelyn, those five years had been cruel to Lysa. Time had left its mark on her... Her sister was two years younger, but now she looked older than Catelyn herself.
Lysa had always been shorter than Catelyn, and now she had grown plump. Her face was pale and puffy... Catelyn held Lysa, remembering the slender girl who stood beside her at her wedding in the Sept of Riverrun, head held high, chest out... Now, all that remained of her sister's beauty was that thick, soft, auburn hair that flowed down to her waist.
Catelyn's eyes reddened. She said softly, "Lysa, it's so good to see you."
Lady Lysa looked at Petyr, who was watching the sisters' reunion with a gentle expression, and said, "Lord Petyr, thank you for bringing my sister to me."
Petyr met Lysa's eyes and gave a slight nod.
"It was nothing. I won't disturb you two any longer. Farewell."
After speaking, he nodded at Catelyn, who was looking his way, then softly called to the handmaiden in the room, and they left together.
The moment the door closed, Lysa's expression changed. She immediately flung Catelyn's hands away.
Lysa's face became like a sky obscured by dark clouds. She accused, "Cat, what conspiracy are you and your husband plotting? Why are you trying to frame me?!"
Catelyn could scarcely believe her ears. "Conspiracy? Frame you?" she asked, shocked.
She tried to grab her sister's hand, but Lysa pulled away. "Lysa, how could I ever harm you? I came to help you."
The fire in the hearth blazed, but Lysa's voice held not a trace of warmth. "I wrote to you specifically, warning you to stay away from the Lannisters, yet your husband frames me as a murderer. By the gods, Cat, did you come here to trick me into meekly accepting the charges your husband fabricated?"
With that, Lysa shot out her hands and gripped Catelyn's wrists tightly.
Lysa's strength was immense. A single pull made Catelyn stumble, nearly causing her to fall.
"You're dreaming, Cat! You'll never succeed! The Vale belongs to my son! You will not snatch it from my hands!"
A blaze of fury erupted in Catelyn. What sisterly affection? She knew nothing of it now.
She yanked her arms free from Lysa's plump hands and snapped, "Lysa! Do you know what you're saying? What you're saying is slander! The North has land in abundance, who would covet your Vale?!"
Lysa sneered, "Oh? Weren't you the one always complaining in your letters that the North has nothing but white snow?"
Catelyn retorted, "The North stretches from the Wall in the north to the Neck in the south. Its area is equal to all the other six kingdoms combined."
"Oh, no wonder you complained it was all snow."
"You..."
"Admit it, you covet The Vale's fertile lands."
"Absolutely not. I can swear it to you."
"Oh, my husband also swore an oath. He swore he would protect me and our son forever, but did he? By the gods, please do not forgive those who make promises so easily, yet cannot keep them."
"You... you..."
...
...
Catelyn's voice was loud, but Lysa was practically screaming. Perhaps they were both exhausted, as they now resorted to glaring at each other.
An eerie silence fell over the room.
"Mother..."
A small voice suddenly broke the silence, instantly capturing both Catelyn's and Lysa's attention.
Lord Robert Arryn of the Eyrie was standing by the door to the inner room. He was clutching a ragged doll, his wide eyes watching them. Little Robert was pitifully thin, smaller than other children his age. His small face was sickly, and he shivered from time to time.
"Are you playing a game?"
"My sweetling..."
With a cry of alarm, Lysa spun around, her heavy robe swirling with her. She rushed over to embrace her son.
She studied Little Robert with a face full of tenderness, then pointed at Catelyn. When she looked back at her sister, her gaze was still as sharp as a knife.
"This is your Aunt Catelyn. She's my sister, the lady of Winterfell. Do you remember?"
Little Robert looked at Catelyn with some confusion for a moment. He blinked and said, "I think I remember."
Catelyn had yet to calm down from her earlier fury. She forced a gentle smile... The last time she saw Little Robert, he wasn't even a year old. How could he possibly remember her?
Catelyn couldn't help but glance at her sister again. She felt that Lysa was acting strangely. They had argued plenty of times before, but today's argument felt as if it had been rehearsed countless times. Her sister's words flowed with an unnatural fluency.
(end of chapter)