Hey, everyone! I finally got this chapter up because I finished watching season 5! Anyhow, I love writing creeper modern Baelish. I think the best part of what I assume being modern Baelish is that he would still speak in an archaic, almost "cryptic" manner. I love duplicity! Hope you enjoy the chapter! From now on, this will be the normal chapter length (chapter 1 is usually much longer because it is a sort of pilot for me).

WARNING: This fan fiction contains mature content and subject matter.


Chapter 2- A Gift


Rosie held her breath as Petyr Baelish slowly ushered her into the dining room, his hand still lingering at the small of her back. Immediately upon entering the room, the faint sensation of his warm hand slid away as if it had never been there in the first place. She sighed in relief, but shivered as he smoothly slid past her and towards the area where her mother and father were conversing lively with Robb. Of course he was back to hovering over her mother…the serpent. As much as she desperately wanted to greet her brother Robb, she did not want to follow Baelish into the rather intimate conversation circle. It would seem she'd have to wait until dinner to speak with Robb. Searching the room, she spotted Bran and Rickon sitting together with their pups and a lone Nymeria. They sat at the far end of the long wooden dining table where various wrapped boxes and decorated bags were placed. She smiled and made her way over to her young brothers.

"Where's Arya?" She looked at the two curiously and gestured to Nymeria. It was a rare sight to see Arya's pup without the wild girl; they were nearly inseparable. Before the boys could answer, she heard a familiar snicker from underneath the dining table.

"I'm here!" The young girl popped out from under the table and grinned toothily before brushing the dust off her pants. Rosie immediately realized why the girl had been hiding in such a peculiar spot.

"Did mom insist you wear a dress?" She smiled as Arya nodded her head violently, her nose scrunching in distaste as she crossed her arms.

"I hate dresses. But she can't make me wear one nowit's too late!" She celebrated cheekily before sitting alongside her brothers. Clearly their mother had given up…Rosie furtively glanced over at the far side of the room where her mother and father were laughing lightly at something Baelish had said. From such a distance, she could also see Robb wore an amused grin on his face. She frowned, wishing Baelish would just slither off so she could finally catch up with her older brother. But it didn't seem likely…Baelish was a charming conversationalist and he'd likely have them occupied for a while. Damn him.

She pulled a chair out and joined her younger siblings, plopping down with a huff. It was official—her fear and suspicion of Petyr Baelish had driven her to sit with the children

At least I'll be safe here…She turned her attention to the rather large pile of wrapped presents which were arranged neatly on the table and she realized they were Petyr's lavish gifts for everyone. She honestly didn't care to find out which one was hers, but she smiled at the excited expressions of anticipation on the faces of the three children sitting across from her.

"I see you little crows are already hovering over the gifts," She laughed as the three giggled and continued to shuffle in their seats eagerly. Arya pointed her finger to one of the boxes which was wrapped in bright pink paper with a laugh.

"I bet that one's for princess Sansa," Her siblings joined her in giggles as Rosie shook her head at their antics.

"Don't pick on your sister. Who knows…perhaps that pretty pink box is for you!" She teased, causing the little girl to gag dramatically.

As the three children laughed and began a game of guessing who would get each gift, Rosie mindlessly stared forward at the pile, her eyes landing on a small black leather box. It was perhaps the smallest of the gifts—sitting rather simply among the colorfully wrapped presents with only a deep blue velvet ribbon securing the dark box. Perhaps a watch for Jon or Robb? Her lips twitched up in relief—at least Jon and Robb still got gifts from Baelish too. She supposed it was better not to suffer alone in such a juvenile tradition…

She internally cringed as she remembered the last time Baelish had come around the Stark household. It had been almost two years since he had visited with his amazing tales and impressive gifts. She had been 16 at the time…and he had brought her a doll. After he left, she had secretly tossed the childish toy. Now that she was an adult, she could not imagine what horrid thing he possibly could have picked out for her…The bastard had probably brought her another doll or other girlish toy to spite her once more. He knew she was suspicious of him…and therefore he made a game of infuriating her while her family obliviously threw him praise. She frowned. I will not give him the satisfaction of refusing his stupid gifts…

A small chime rang from the door to the kitchens, breaking Rosie from her frustrated thoughts as the Stark family's two chefs emerged with the first course. It was time to sit for dinner. She wanted to groan as she lifted herself, watching in silent anger as Baelish suavely pulled her mother's chair out for her to sit. Rosie walked forward slowly, her younger siblings rushing past her to sit as she realized Sansa had finished getting ready and was already seated snugly between Robb and Arya.

A bad feeling welled in the pit of her stomach as she realized she would have to sit at the end of the table…and that the seat across was not yet occupied. She gripped her palms as she neared the seat and Baelish greeted her with a silent smile, his long fingers lightly gripping the chair and pulling it out for her to sit. She internally cursed him as she quickened her pace, not wanting to keep the devilish man waiting. She nodded in a curt thank-you as she bent to sit, refusing to look Baelish in his stony eyes. As she settled into the seat, she tried to jerk the chair forward herself, but bit her tongue as she felt his presence looming over her from behind, the legs of her seat gliding forward neatly as he pushed her chair in. She blushed hotly at her plate. I could have pushed my own chair in...Once again, Petyr Baelish had made her feel like an incompetent idiot. And the wretched man was doing it on purpose…

Rosie clenched her jaw silently as Baelish smoothly rounded the table and elegantly settled in the seat across from her. Fueled by anger, she chanced a look at the man. Her heart nearly stopped as she was met with the sight of Petyr Baelish staring at her with a hint of a smile and…warm grey-green eyes. Her gaze immediately snapped back to her empty plate. She had been prepared for the usual smirk and stony look…but not…whatever that was. Never before had she seen such an expression on the calculated man's face. His eyes were always cold and his well-practiced smile never quite reached them…But for the first time, there had been some strange emotion in those vacant eyes. It pierced through her and she felt her cheeks grow hotter as she silently prayed he was not still looking at her with those eyes. Petyr Baelish was a clever and devious man…the thought of him producing anything close to a sincere expression sent shivers down her spine.


The next thirty minutes of dinner went by in a blur. Rosie tried to ignore the presence of the man across from her as she spoke with Robb and enjoyed the first course that had been served. She was actually enjoying herself, and she gradually forgot about the presence of Baelish across from her as he chatted with her mother and father. She chuckled with Robb as they both noticed little Rickon stealthily attempt to sneak a piece of bread to Shaggydog under the table.

Reaching for her glass of water to calm her laughter, she felt a light brushing across her ankle. Taking a sip of water, she shook her head with a light smile. Rickon had to stop letting Shaggydog sit under the table.

Placing her glass onto the table, she listened in silent amusement as Bran and Arya begged Robb to show them how to balance a spoon on their noses. Turning her head, she noticed Rickon sneaking another piece of bread under the table, Shaggydog's nose poking out as he took the piece of bread. As she watched the scene unfold, she lightly jumped in her seat as something brushed her ankle once more. That was not Shaggydog.

In confusion, she saw both Nymeria and Summer calmly laying across the dining room. If it was not one of the pups…The sensation lightly brushed across her ankle once more and she shuddered. There was no possible way...Slowly, she glanced forward to see Petyr Baelish in deep conversation with her mother and father, his hands steepled as he spoke smoothly.

"Perhaps politics may be a sweeter course of conversation when dessert has reached the table," He gave a light smile as both her mother and father heartily chuckled over his witty remark.

She jumped as something gently rubbed across the side of her calve from under the table. Not once did Petyr's gaze shift to her, but she froze as she watched him, a smirk crossing his features just as the strange sensation brushed across her leg. What was he doing? She waited silently, hoping that she had just imagined it. But then, the subtle smirk grew on his face once more as he intently listened to her father speak, and she felt the distinct leather of his shoe ever so lightly brush across the side of her bare leg. She inhaled sharply through her nose. No. Petyr Baelish was not intimately running his foot across her bare leg under the table during a family dinner. She refused to believe it. He probably didn't even realize he was touching her leg—an honest mistake.

Rosie jerked her leg to the side, pushing the offending foot away from her in hopes he would realize what he was mindlessly touching. With a pointed look, she focused her gaze on the man, waiting for him to turn and politely apologize. But his eyes remained fixed on her parents as he continued to converse with them. Rosie frowned to herself. I am getting way too paranoid…Suddenly, her father spoke from his seat beside her.

"Rosie, your mother and I were just telling Petyr about your plans for school in King's Landing," He gave a soft smile before her mother continued.

"We know you want to be independent…" Her mother spoke carefully and Rosie paused as she looked between the two blankly. She didn't like how they had mentioned Baelish. Where were they going with this? Her father continued with a pat to her shoulder.

"We thought it wise to have Petyr look after you in the capital. Robb will be in the North for his second year, and Petyr was kind enough to offer his help while you're away," Her father and mother beamed at Baelish and he nodded politely, his eyes meeting Rosie's as she internally seethed. This could not get any worse…and then she felt it again, the foot brushing across her ankle. She jumped up from her seat, knocking over her glass of iced tea in the process. She gasped as it soaked the hem of her dress and ran down her legs. Great—now she looked like she pissed herself.

Her mother stood with a cloth, coming to her aid as Rosie glared at Baelish's calm sitting form. He looked on in silence, staring with those strange eyes and a smug smile at the ridiculous tea stain on her light blue dress. He's probably mocking me, the bastard…This debacle was entirely his fault…If he hadn't come to Winterfell, then she would have had a peaceful summer with no giant tea stains on her dress and no worries. Fucking Baelish…

Rosie shook her head in slight annoyance as her mother began to wipe at the dripping hem, "It's fine, mom…I'll go change…May I be excused?" She nearly whispered angrily as her mother handed her the cloth and nodded with a concerned look. Rosie turned and left the dining room to change her dress. Sighing, she looked down at herself as she ascended the staircase towards her bedroom. I liked this dress too…

She entered her room and looked at herself in the long-mirror on the far wall. A laugh escaped her as she noted it did indeed look she had wet herself. Walking to the closet, she stared at the line of clothing blankly. Did she really have to go back out there? She could just lock herself in her bedroom for the rest of the evening and refuse to return to the dining room until Baelish left…

"But that's what that fucker would want..." She hissed to herself before yanking out a long-sleeved velvet dress. It was dark green—at least it would not show if she accidentally spilled something else on herself.

Pulling at the short dress, she stomped down the stairs back towards the dining room, prepared for battle if necessary. If Petyr Baelish had indeed been rubbing his unwanted foot against her legs, there was no way in hell she was sitting across from him in this dress.

When she reached the dining room, however, everyone seemed to have migrated to the other side of the table where the large pile of presents sat. Pausing at the stained glass sliding door, Rosie watched as Bran, Arya, and Rickon tore into their presents like wild little animals while Sansa and Robb skillfully opened theirs at a more graceful and appreciative pace. Rosie chuckled as she realized the bright pink box was indeed for Sansa. Eyes scanning across the dining room, she noticed her mother and father standing calmly near the children as they smiled and watched everyone open their gifts. But there was somebody missing from the entire scene. Baelish.

"Best stay away from drinks this evening. Wouldn't want any more spills…" Rosie went stiff at the low and gravelly voice which came from directly behind her. Hair standing on end, she quickly turned around to see Petyr Baelish standing with a small smile, hands primly clasped behind his back. She watched as his eyes trailed down in an almost appreciative way. Where the hell did he appear from?

"It'd be a shame…" Grey-blue eyes met hers as his smile only grew, "I do believe this dress is even lovelier than the last."

Rosie looked down at her feet before biting her inner cheek—a terrible habit when she grew nervous. Why did he have to appear out of nowhere and leave her feeling so cornered? She glanced up once more and nearly choked at the warm expression which had crossed his features. A hand slowly lifted to brush a dark auburn curl from her face before he titled his head in consideration.

"I still see so many traces of that little girl in there…Yet you and I both know you're too old for dolls, Rose," Rosie blushed despite herself as the man before her chuckled softly. Why did he have to call her Rose?

Before any more words were said, he smoothly reached into the upper pocket of his dark grey suit to produce a rather long rectangular box. She stared at the box of long polished wood, her brow furrowing in confusion before Baelish's voice sounded out gently.

"I wanted to personally ensure it reached your hands. A congratulation of sorts for your graduation…I do hope it's to your liking…More so than a silly doll. You must forgive me for the…previous fault in my choice of gift. You've grown faster than an old man can keep up," He smiled with mirth in his eyes as he held the box out. Her face grew even hotter—he knew she had hated that doll. Suddenly she felt horrible for ever having believed Baelish would do such a thing on purpose. In a way, this seemed like a peace offering…

Reluctantly, Rosie reached out to take the smooth box from his hand. A shiver coursing through her spine as her fingertips accidentally brushed across his thumb.

"Sorry…" She whispered in embarrassment, trying to hide the awkwardness in her voice before nervously biting her inner cheek. Baelish merely gave a hushed smile of reassurance in response.

She held the box carefully, wondering what could possibly be inside. Anxiously, she pulled the hinged top open and quietly gasped at what was revealed.

Inside the box lay a stunning antique looking necklace. In the center of a delicate golden chain, a dark ruby teardrop was snugly embedded in an intricate crown of golden vines with small emerald and diamond accents. Examining the shining pendant closely, she realized that something was very finely engraved onto one of the elegant golden vines. It was so fine a detail, she had to lift the necklace towards eye-level to decipher it. Blue eyes slowly spanned the neat and swirling cursive which elegantly read her name—Rose.

With a hot face, she lowered the box and snapped it shut, pushing it back towards the man before her in shock.

"I-It's breathtaking…but I can't accept this gift…it's too much…" Rosie's eyes franticly searched Baelish's face, hoping he was not serious about giving her a gift that was quite possibly more expensive than the entire Stark estate. She felt trapped when Baelish stepped forward, his warm hands wrapping around the shaking hand which fretfully held the box out to him. With absolute insistence, he gently pushed the box back towards her before softly squeezing her hand with both of his.

"It's yours, Rose. It was made especially for you; the finest craftsmanship in King's Landing. I'd a feeling you would push it away, so I had it engraved. You must accept it, my dear. I cannot think of any other Rose worthy of such a gift," He gave her hand one more light squeeze before letting go, the ring on his finger slowly brushing across her knuckle. She felt horridly guilty now—the necklace was made just for her and she had no choice but to accept it. She sighed shakily, accepting the box before looking up at Baelish in uncertainty.

"I don't know how to thank you…it's gorgeous," Rosie whispered awkwardly, wondering if Baelish really wasn't so bad after all. She searched his face, her animosity for him crumbling as his deep gaze just looked so painfully sincere. He smiled—it was genuine.

"You need not thank me, my dear. You may have anything you wish of me. Your smile is all I ask in return," His eyes trailed across her pink cheeks as her lips reluctantly turned up in a small smile. His pleasant charm—feigned or not—was undeniably contagious. Baelish gave her a warm smile before his hand gently fell onto her shoulder.

"I've seen many sights, my dear. But that lovely smile of yours is by far the most precious," And just like that, his hand slowly retreated, his fingertips trailing across the fabric of her sleeve before he sent her a quiet smile, holding his arm out for her to take.

Rosie wanted to shake her head in disbelief. Just an hour ago she would have sworn to the grave that Petyr Baelish was a sycophantic rat…But now…she was doubting every suspicion or reason she had for ever despising him in the first place. She internally cursed his sudden and seemingly genuine disposition. Why did he have to be so...nice? Something about the new and improved Baelish threw her off guard.

Nerves on end, she accepted his arm. The pair walked on in silence towards the dining room, an unspoken sort of truce between the two. Rosie furtively glanced over at the quiet man beside her and flinched when her eyes met his penetrating gaze. The smile was there—plastered on with the same practiced delicacy as always—but something lay in those dark eyes that sent a chill through her spine. Rosie felt her cheeks burn before swiftly looking away in nervous discomfort.

Petyr Baelish was a dangerous and manipulative man—a self-made monster…So why was he suddenly making her blush? Rosie's face grew hotter as she heard him lowly chuckle from her side. Yes, Petyr Baelish was definitely dangerous. She awkwardly clutched the necklace case in her hand. She dare not wear the lavish gift alone before Baelish. Hopefully he would not suggest helping her put it on when they reached the dining room.

Perhaps she would have been better off with another silly doll


Oh, Petyr's got some game! I think there's nothing creepier than Baelish secretively rubbing his leather shoes on somebody's legs underneath a dining table during a family dinner! And he got away with it, hahaha! Rosie's definitely doubting herself in this chapter. Hey, maybe Baelish is just trying to be nice …Ehem, he's definitely got an agenda…In the next chapter, I will include a few sections with Baelish's perception! The strange sexual tension can only grow from here! Until next chapter!