Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

"He's just a silly kid, but I love him like my own brother. If he dies, I'll be sad." Kate's pleading voice lingered in his ears, as if it happened yesterday.

The calm gray eyes stared at him, making him tremble in his heart.

He looked down at his outfit, only wearing a chest guard and mail, and most of the protective gear was taken off by himself.

"Idiot! Wearing these protective gear, how can there be an idiot like you!" His eyes turned to the person who spoke, who was himself with fine lines on his face.

He shook his head, tied the last rope, and held the long sword nervously in his hand. The calm gray eyes of the Stark family did not move. He used all his strength and swung the long sword at Stark.

The swords rained down, and the attack was fierce, but it was himself who suffered the injury, not Stark.

He retreated again and again, and the plaster on the ground stuck to his shoes and trouser legs. He forgot where he was fighting, in the woods or in the wasteland?

Oh no, it turned out to be the castle courtyard, and he kept retreating.

"Surrender!" The Stark family shouted more than once.

But he shook his head stubbornly and swung his sword hard.

He retreated from the castle courtyard all the way to the steps by the water, and the water stains stuck to his feet and ankles. Stark's patience was obviously almost exhausted. The sword tore his body and flesh like a wolf's fangs, and there were wounds everywhere, but it didn't hit the vital parts.

"No!" This was his own voice, or the one with fine lines on his face shouting.

Shut up quickly, he really wanted to rush to the side of his older self and kill him with a sword.

But he didn't. Stark swung back with a fierce backhand, and his chest armor and leather were ruthlessly penetrated. A deep wound appeared in the soft flesh under the ribs. He fell in a pool of blood, his eyes staring at Catelyn who was anxiously watching in the distance, "Cate," he murmured.

Bright blood gushed out from between his iron gloves, and the self with fine lines on his face blocked his sight of looking at Kate.

"Silly boy." The older self said with a half-smile.

"I'm so stupid." He burst into tears and was confused. Stark's gray eyes stared at him mercilessly, as if he was watching death.

Petyr woke up in the dungeon deep in the Red Keep. His dream was broken and brought back to reality.

He gasped loudly and groped in the darkness. "Cough cough!" The cockroach shuttled through his fingers. Petyr stretched out his hand to pinch it to death, but the sound of the tiny insects in the distance continued. He realized that his mouth was dry and his throat was hoarse, as if pierced by a sword.

Petyr forced himself to calm down. He gave up opening his eyes. There was no need to open his eyes when he saw the dark place. He thought carefully about his current situation. He had a golden dragon hidden in King's Landing. Maybe he could guard the Red Keep dungeon.

Damn it! How is it possible? Do you think these ideas have never been thought of by former prisoners? Petyr pinched his soft parts and forced himself to calm down with pain.

Brandon Stark, I dreamed of him again. Obviously, this running wolf has faded from my memory over the years, but now he seems to have appeared yesterday. Every time he fell asleep in the dark, Brandon Stark would haunt him like a nightmare. The extremely calm eyes of the Stark family, the heavy swing of the broadsword, and his blood turned into mist and wrapped around his body in the dream.

In the dungeon of the Red Castle, he found that he could not think. Petyr pinched his thigh hard, and the pain made him barely come back to his senses, but he thought of another Stark.

Edard Stark stood in front of him in a deep voice, with the same calm eyes. There was a hint of confusion and respect in Brandon's eyes, but Ed's eyes were full of majesty and damn justice.

"I order Petyr Baelish to be taken to the dungeon in the name of the Hand of the King." Eddard Stark's words seemed to be his end, trapping him in the dungeon of the Red Castle.

"Did Kate really not receive the letter I sent her?" A voice lingered in his mind, it was the voice of the young Little Finger.

"Don't be silly." Petyr spoke in the dark dungeon, and the only response he got was the silent high walls.

Time was frozen in the dungeon, and hunger, thirst, loss of soul and endless fatigue invaded Petyr. Longsail has arrived at King's Landing. He originally thought that nothing would happen during the tournament. A glimmer of hope remained in Petyr's heart. The real tear was still with Petyr. The Tears of Lys could still contribute its final value.

He calculated the embarrassing situation of Attis himself when he immediately brought Lysa and Robin back to the Vale after the death of the former Prime Minister. Lysa's mishandled arrangement forced Attis to imprison his adoptive mother. He originally thought that Blackfish would express something. Brynden Tully was Lysa's uncle after all. But Brynden, a Knight of the Bloody Gate, did not express anything at all, and even cooperated with Attis to conceal it. Petyr did not believe that Blackfish had no connections in the Eyrie with his experience as a Knight of the Bloody Gate for more than ten years. Blackfish must have known the news, but he cooperated with Attis and did not make it public.

But it doesn't matter. Petyr had a backup plan. Relying on Lysa's infinite trust in him, Petyr also learned the secret language between her and Catelyn when they were young. He took advantage of Robert's trip north to plant his own spies and sent the secret letter to Catelyn in Lysa's name. He believed that Catelyn would definitely make the matter public. Even if she didn't make a direct accusation in Winterfell, she could announce it to the Seven Kingdoms after confirming with her uncle Blackfish.

By then, the Iron Throne would definitely suspect Attis's motive for imprisoning Lysa. Considering Attis's departure from King's Landing and the death of the former Prime Minister, even King Robert would probably accuse Attis, and the lords of the Vale would be unable to unite because of this matter. Even if Attis produced evidence that Lysa had poisoned him, everyone knew the situation in the Eyrie and could completely falsify it. By then, Attis's inheritance rights might be deprived by the Iron Throne, and Lysa would be released. He could take advantage of the conflict between the lions and the wolves to fish in troubled waters in the kingdom, and finally marry Lysa and manage the Vale.

Petyr's mouth curled up. In this extremely suffocating dark environment, perhaps only by reviewing his perfect plan and imagining a beautiful future could he slightly boost his spirits.

Attis's face appeared in front of him, with the cavalry of the Golden Robe and the Arryn family behind him. They all laughed heartily, pointed at him, mocked his plan, and sneered at his imagination.

The eagle seemed to place him in the sky. The fear brought by weightlessness spread to his limbs. His limbs were soft and powerless. Petyr was so scared that he dared not make any sound.

The earth was getting closer and closer. Petyr was torn into pieces, and his flesh and blood flew.

The faces of Brandon Stark and Artis Arryn merged into one at this time. The broadsword of the running wolf and the swiftness of the falcon.

Petyr miscalculated. Artis acted too fast. He took over the capital garrison too quickly, controlled the Red Keep too quickly, cleaned up the Chancellor's Chamber too quickly, cleaned up the Seagull Town Customs too quickly, and ended the Narrow Sea Pirates too quickly. He even contacted Qarth? How could Qarth reach an agreement with the Vale? What did Qarth, half a world away, need to get in the Vale? Is it related to the free trade city-state? He mobilized the Chancellor's mind, but found that he was too drowsy to think.

Petyr's confusion reached its peak. His confusion and doubts overcame his unwillingness. In the heavy darkness, only the sigh of Littlefinger remained. The stairs had not been built yet, but the base had been lost. This was something that the Duke of the Valley could do easily.

"I'm so stupid." Petyr held his little finger and muttered in the darkness.

But he didn't expect anyone to respond.

"You are a little stupid, Lord Baelish."

"Who? Who is speaking?" Petyr opened his eyes.

Sparks ignited at this time, and the familiar smooth head was Varys, the octopus spider.

"Varys, are you here to take my head?" Petyr smiled miserably, and his face was extremely pale in Varys' eyes.

Varys frowned innocently, "People always like to use the most extreme and sinister things to guess the mind of eunuchs."

"Haha!" Petyr raised his hand weakly, "How funny, aren't you a spider? A spider without a hanger."

"It's not a good thing to be rude to spiders at this time." Varys shrugged and said.

Petyr's mind finally recovered a little in the warmth of the firelight, "Then what are you doing here?"

"Look at my old friend," Varys handed over a wine bag, which seemed to be filled with Petyr's only desire now.

Petyr took the wine bag and gulped down a few mouthfuls, "Ah~" He felt the comfort he hadn't tasted for a long time.

"Summer Red, haha! It's a delicious wine." Petyr laughed, holding the wine bag with both hands, not letting go of any drop of wine.

Varys looked at Petyr with pity. The finance minister yesterday was gone, and now there was only a beggar from the Five Finger Peninsula in front of him, but the beggar couldn't taste the taste of Summer Red.

"Varys, tell me your terms." Petyr asked, regaining his consciousness.

Varys wrapped the cloak behind him on his smooth head, "What terms, Lord Baelish?"

"So you come here, give me some wine, so that I can go to see the Stranger?" Petyr chuckled, he obviously didn't believe it.

Varys shrugged, "People always think that overthinking is a sign of intelligence. Lord Baelish seems to be deeply troubled by these words. Words are like the wind. Don't change your heart because of them, Lord Baelish."

Petyr heard his roar when he was young at this moment, "Come on, Brandon Stark!"

But the grown-up Petyr just said: "Words are like swords, I can only be my own shield."

Varys looked at him puzzled, "Aphorisms are coming out frequently at this time? Littlefinger."

Petyr raised his head and looked at Varys, ignoring that Varys never called him "Littlefinger", "I still have a lot of gold dragons left in King's Landing, give me a letter, Varys, I know you won't come in vain."

Varys's pitying eyes did not change, he shook his head gently, "You are so stupid."

Petyr looked at him unwillingly, based on his experience, Varys would never come in vain.

"Duke Artis will not let you go, Petyr, you know this." Varys said.

"I know, I know, Varys, but you can help me get out. I have bargaining chips." Petyr leaned against the wall and said with difficulty.

Varys looked at him quietly, "What bargaining chips do you have, Littlefinger." Varys didn't wait for his answer, and continued, "Why should I risk angering the Duke of the Vale to help you get out? Use your brain. You are not like this outside the dungeon. I think you have always regarded yourself as a player in the power field."

Petyr's lips trembled, perhaps because of the damp cold, or perhaps because the words hurt his heart. He gasped loudly and coughed continuously.

"Your health is too poor, Littlefinger. Among the countless prisoners I have seen, how long have you lasted?" Varys said sarcastically, covering his mouth and nose with his long sleeves in disgust.

Petyr coughed violently. He held his hands on the wall, stopped his breathing, and looked up at Varys.

"You're just here to amuse me," he said quietly.

Varys shook his head again, "I want you to deny your relationship with Lady Lysa. During the trial, think carefully and use your brain to speak."

"Trial?" Petyr swallowed, "If I agree."

"Duke Attis will allow you to wear black clothes, and then King Robert will surely compromise." Varys said.

"Put on black." Petyr murmured. He thought of Catelyn. If she got to the Great Wall, Catelyn might have revealed Attis's crime of imprisoning Lysa. Then she might intercede for me and point out that This was part of Attis's sinister plan, to frame the former Prime Minister's most trusted minister. Maybe he would be able to return innocent before he took the oath at the Great Wall.

"Okay" Petyr smiled, and he agreed to the proposal.

Varys also smiled. He left the wine bag and gradually moved away. "I wish you good luck, Lord Baelish." He knew that Petyr had lost his mind and summer red was really useful.

Darkness invaded again, and Petyr sucked the summer red from the wineskin, enjoying the sweetness of the wine.

As if he was waiting for himself to finish drinking the summer red, when he drank the last drop, the dungeon door rubbed against the ground again and slowly opened.

The light opened, the jailer burst in, and Petyr was pulled out.

It was noon, the sun was shining on Petyr's weak body, sweat was pouring down from his body, but he still felt extremely cold and shivered from the cold.

The pulpit of the Great Sept of Baelor, the milky white walls, the hypocritical Archbishop

He was dragged over, and King Robert's fat body occupied the sofa in the distance. Eddard sat next to him, as well as the foolish Queen Cersei, the cruel Prince Joffrey, the cunning Grand Maester Pycelle, The vain Renly Baratheon, and finally, the damn Kitty, the damn Attis Arryn!

Littlefinger was dragged to the high platform.

Common people, a dense mass of common people, stood in the square. Among them were businessmen who were forced to buy and sell real estate and their families were separated. There were officials who were forced out of high positions by his means. There were stupid citizens who were victimized by his lending money. The failed knights he laughed at included children with the same clear eyes as when he was young, prostitutes he raised, golden robes he bribed, and many more.

"The seven gods have witnessed that no one can hide it," the Archbishop said loudly.

"I am Petyr Baelish, a noble of the Five Finger Peninsula of the Vale and Lord Treasurer of the Kingdom." Petyr said with all his strength, his voice echoing in the square. "I come here to confess my treason and oath in the presence of gods and mortals, with the intention of murdering my lord Attis Arryn, Duke of the Vale."

Mockery and profanity echoed through the square.

"Not only that," Petyr glanced at Attis, "I also want to force Lady Lysa to commit herself to me!"

Laughter echoed in the square, and the king raised his head in surprise.

"There are rumors in King's Landing that Lysa and I have an extramarital affair that is not allowed by the gods, haha! It's nonsense. Lady Lysa strictly maintains her innocence. She knows the sanctity of marriage and the duties of a lady of the Eyrie, so she rejected my advances!"

"Hahahahaha!" Laughter echoed in the square.

Renly stood up, "This news was confirmed by Minister of Intelligence Varys. Petyr Baelish had harassed Lady Lysa many times, but she refused. This was witnessed by his subordinates."

The female relatives in King's Landing who saw the joke nodded, saying that they had also seen Petyr's rude behavior before.

The eaglets of the Vale had bribed too many people. Petyr kept smiling.

"Because we are guilty, we suffer." The archbishop's fat body was covered with "simple" necklaces and jewelry. He said loudly, "This man admitted his crime in front of the gods. Your Majesty, please tell me how to deal with it." ?”

Attis whispered something to King Robert, and Robert stood up in understanding.

Dressed in black, the Wall was too close to the Starks, Petyr thought.

"Sentence him to death," said Robert.

Ser Ilyn stepped forward and Petyr was pinned to the marble slab.

What's wrong? Varys? Where is Varys? Petyr had a smile on his face before he could react.

If there were gods, they would have heard Littlefinger's last thoughts, which turned out to be Varys.

Attis looked at the fallen head and stood for a long time. The Valley Knight stood behind him. The blue silent scene was in sharp contrast to the cheering crowd.

No more little fingers in King's Landing.

The first volume should have come to an end

In the future, updates, no matter the first or second update, will be posted from 9 to 11 o'clock, otherwise I will feel guilty if I make everyone look at it from time to time.