Hey guys, here's the new chapter. I'm on an updating roll! Enjoy!
WARNING: This fan fiction contains mature content and subject matter.
Chapter 3 - Careless
With Baelish creeping around the Stark estate, it was difficult for Rosie to completely relax. Her mother and father had kindly offered to house the shifty man during his lengthy two-week visit to Winterfell, leaving Rosie on edge in her own home. After the awkward dinner on the night of her brother Robb's return, Rosie had been avoiding Baelish at any cost, going to extreme lengths including diving out of the kitchen with an arm full of granola bars and even taking refuge in a pile of napping pups. Lady had not been very keen on sharing her plush bed with the less-than-stealthy Stark.
Today was no different—Rosie was on a mission to avoid any and ideally all encounters with Baelish. And so she stood in the doorframe of her room, vigilantly peering out to scan the hallway for any unsavory trace of Baelish. The coast was clear. Popping out of her room, the auburn-haired girl quickly ambled to the barred ledge of the staircase to peer down into the far kitchen. Satisfied with no signs of the man, Rosie sighed before relaxing and sleepily trooping down the stairs to get her much-deserved breakfast. It was currently very early in the morning and nobody with the exception of Jon—who went on early runs with Ghost—would likely be awake. Hopefully Baelish slept like a normal human being.
As quietly as possible, she crossed the empty space towards the kitchen, ducking as she passed the windowed sliding doors to the dining room. She could not be too careful; the dining room had always been Baelish's territory during his visits. He liked to conduct sparsely worded "business" calls and sort through suspicious amounts of paperwork at the long dining table in there. She blushed, remembering her embarrassing encounter with Baelish on the first day of his visit. Never again would she romp around in any dining room until the snake was gone from Winterfell for good. She was not up for childishly crawling under any more dining tables in search of toy swords while he was lurking about.
Moving past the closed-off dining room, Rosie huffed as she stood from her crouched position and adjusted her pajama shorts which had essentially given her a wedgie, finally glad to have made it to the relative safety of the kitchen. She sighed, knowing her avoidance of Baelish was borderline manic, but the very fact that he had given her a necklace which he quite obviously had custom-made for her made her feel sick. Baelish was sly, and to slip under the radar of her normally watchful parents made him all the more a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps the gift was a token of goodwill, to get her in his pocket just like the rest of the Stark family. Or perhaps the necklace had a more sinister meaning, to lure her into his web of underhanded business and various other deceptive dealings. Rosie wanted no part of Baelish and his schemes...What if he-
"What are you doing up so early?"
Rosie jumped at the soft voice, clutching her chest with a silent gasp and turning to see a familiar untamed mane of black hair, the likes of which not even a hair elastic could fully contain.
"Jon, you scared the living shit out of me!" She hissed in a whisper, catching sight of a panting white mass of fur at her brother's side—Ghost. Jon chuckled faintly at his jumpy sibling.
"I'm not the one who's sneaking about," Jon gestured with a nod towards the dining room, a knowing smile crossing his perspiring face. The girl blushed—he and Ghost had likely seen her ungraceful crab-walk past the dining room. Hopefully she hadn't scarred the pair with the sight of her sad attempt at stealth.
"Please don't tell anyone about this, okay?" She sighed, knowing she would never hear the end of it from her parents. They would scold her for being "rude to Petyr" or being "unwelcoming towards a guest". Rosie snorted at the thought. Her own mother didn't even fully welcome Jon's presence in his own home, why wasn't she allowed to hate Baelish's guts?
Jon sighed at Rosie's frustrated expression, exhaustion from his early run clear as he pulled out a stool and sat at the island counter. Leaning down, he poured some water from his bottle into Ghost's nearby dish before placing it down and facing his sister once more.
"I won't," He promised sincerely, knowing that her mother Catelyn would not relent if she discovered her oldest daughter was on unfriendly terms with a long-time friend of both the Tully and Stark families.
Rosie smiled gratefully at her brother as she made her way to the cupboard to retrieve a bowl and some cereal.
"You're the best brother ever, you know that, Jon?" Rosie cheekily whispered as she poured her cereal, her back turned from her half-sibling. He remained silent, allowing her compliment to linger in the air as Ghost noisily lapped up his water. Rosie moved to the fridge to get milk, glancing at Jon's brooding form over her shoulder. He stared back at her almost reluctantly before gracing her with that solemn smile of his.
"I know," He nodded, returning her cheek with a tired chuckle of his own before standing from his seat, Ghost instantly at his side.
"Just stay out of trouble, Rosie," He made his way out of the kitchen, disappearing with a downcast smile into the quiet depths of the house with Ghost trailing beside him. Rosie sighed. Jon was so much cooler and stealthier than she would ever be…
The sun had risen and the Stark children were all going about their various daily activities. Sansa had gone shopping with friends at the mall while Robb had gone out to meet with his childhood friend Theon Greyjoy. As always, Jon was off doing something somewhere by himself... and the three youngest Stark children were probably playing or squabbling amongst themselves in the nearby Godswood. Rosie sighed—she refused to be cooped up for the first two weeks of her final summer home just because of stupid Petyr Baelish.
She jumped out of bed, flattening her hair and pulling it into a somewhat decent ponytail before throwing on some comfortable clothes. Grabbing her phone, wallet, and keys, she decided she would just go out and lose herself in the crowd for the day. It was highly unlikely she would run into Baelish on the short trip to her car. Hell, maybe Baelish wasn't even in the house. He had to go out too and do things. He probably went somewhere seedy like the outer Wintertown strip-club...she had heard rumors that they didn't just provide performances. Of course, this information had come from Robb's annoying and perverted Greyjoy friend.
Rosie opened her door, stepping outside before staring straight into the very pair of beady green-grey eyes that she so despised. Baelish. Damn it all, why did he have to be right outside her door as she was leaving? He gave her a crookedly smug smile before stepping towards her, slippery hands clasped neatly behind his back.
"Good afternoon, Rose. I'm happy to see you finally venturing out of the confines of your room," His crooked smirk grew as she stared agape at the small silver bird pin on the high collar of his pressed suit. Damn it all.
"Hey…" She half-heartedly greeted him, having no better response after being caught off guard in the least expected of moments. All sneaking efforts of the past few days had just slipped away in a mere second. She had many words she would have liked to exchange with the wretched man, but such words were more than offensive…
"Would you care to accompany an old man out today? I've not been in Winterfell for many years now. I'd welcome the company of a guide such as yourself, my dear, " His head tilted, the ever-present smirk remaining on that punchable face of his. Rosie grit her teeth—he was toying with her, and it was working. Jon's warning from earlier that morning slipped her mind as she puffed her chest out, cheeks warm for no good reason as she looked away from the skilled flatterer. What harm would come from showing him around Winterfell? Perhaps he wanted her to deny his request if only to make her feel even more immature. She was not about to let Baelish bully her into feeling like a little girl again. Screw it, she'd take him.
"I'd be happy to escort an old man around the town," She beamed at him, hoping to knock him down a few levels by throwing him the taunt of age. Rosie's smile faded as Baelish merely returned her words with a broad smile, his blank eyes holding no trace of offense. Damn it.
"After you if you're ready, my dear," He stepped aside politely, his hand gesturing towards the staircase. Fuck, this was actually happening. What had she gotten herself into? She didn't feel comfortable at the thought of galavanting with the pristinely dressed man all day in what she was currently wearing, but hell if she was going to give Baelish the satisfaction of knowing that. Of course Baelish sought her out when she practically looked like a bum compared to him.
"Ready," She stormed past the man, self-consciously pulling the already long Direwolves t-shirt down to hide her old grey yoga pants. Didn't want to give the old man a show, if he even got off on anything besides chasing after her happily married mother. Creep. Rosie grudgingly lead on, praying that she would make it out of the Baelish-filled day alive or at least with her pride intact.
"Ready," The auburn-haired beauty moved past him in a huff and his smirk grew. Of course the peevish young girl had fallen prey to such obvious bait. Baelish found himself growing fonder of Catelyn's eldest girl as he noticed she shared her mother's stubborn disposition among other features...Her deep red locks whipped past him, his eyes leisurely drifting down to watch her shapely legs push towards the stairs. He caught sight of her painted nails, a powder blue, as he watched her tugging her shirt down, only further highlighting the round outline of her bottom.
The girl was far too young for him...but the way she moved and looked at him with such unwarranted hatred lit a yearning fire within him that had long been dormant. His youth had been wasted on throwing his heart and soul to his first and only love Catelyn Tully...For many years he had both despised yet loved Catelyn's Stark children, yet little Rose had always undeniably been his favorite. Perhaps it was because she least resembled her father...Or perhaps it was because he somehow always anticipated she would grow up to be so much more than her mother had ever been. It was a shame the fondness was not mutual.
Rose was eighteen years of age now, old enough to make her own adult decisions yet impressionable and young enough to have her heart twisted just as he had in the past. His once unrelenting love for Catelyn had waned over the years, and he felt himself grow more and more attached to the second eldest of the Stark siblings...He wanted the spirited young woman before him, and he would patiently play his cards until she safely fell into his grasp. The girl certainly despised him, but hatred was simply a whisper and a gentle caress away from love. Baelish would turn the girl in his favor, and provoking the future scorn of the Starks would simply be a welcome addition to getting what he truly wanted—a certain Northern Rose.
Sitting in a dreadfully silent car and driving through town with Baelish beside her in the passenger seat was not exactly what Rosie had in mind when the man asked her to show him around Winterfell...She offered to park the car for exploration multiple times, but Baelish had merely shook his head and said he "enjoyed sightseeing" far more. What did he even mean by that? She bet the guy had creepy hobbies like birdwatching or something, and by birds she meant married women. With her glaring eyes focused on the road, she was unable to pay him too much attention as she drove around in circles, wondering if Baelish would notice and say something smart like he always did. But instead of striking up witty conversation, the normally charismatic man just sat there in silence, seemingly basking in the uneasy quiet. She drove normally after that. Why had she agreed to this?
"I'm going to turn the radio on, is that okay?" She was stopped at a red light and she glanced over at Baelish to see his amused eyes on her as he nodded in permission. She blushed. This was her car—she shouldn't have needed anyone's consent to play some music, let alone Petyr Baelish. Rosie quickly tuned through the radio stations, desperate to break the suffocating silence. Finally finding a song with an uplifting beat, she let both hands rest on the wheel in relief. Thank goodness for music.
The light changed color, and she gently pressed the gas to move onward, wondering if Baelish was playing mind-games or if he was genuinely taking in the view of Winterfell. Maybe he wanted her to crash the car in a fit of nerves? The sick man probably wanted that. She gripped the wheel, turning her focus back to the music as she tried to pretend Baelish wasn't sitting beside her. It was then that she realized what was playing on the radio. Now that she was paying attention to the lyrics, she felt dread slip through her already uneasy mind. No, no, no, no. A string of lyrics involving pleasure and bodies met her horrified ears as the blush crept through her cheeks. It was too late, the song had been playing for so long that if she turned it off, the awkward silence would only be brought back full throttle. She trooped on through the dirty lyrics, tapping her fingers nervously on the wheel in a new-found attempt to block out intrusive thoughts of what Baelish would be like fooling around in a bed.
Baelish seemed not to mind the song, though. She couldn't really get a good look at him, but at least he wasn't saying anything. Silence was a good sign, right? Clearing her throat, Rosie nearly choked with relief when her phone buzzed from the dashboard. Thank you, whoever was calling. Rosie reached over to turn the music off, using the phone call as an excuse to get rid of the mortifying song.
"Could you see who it is? It might be important," Her voice cracked awkwardly as she asked Baelish to check her phone, still focused on driving.
"Certainly," Baelish reached forward and took her phone in his hands. He glanced at the screen and smirked to himself as he read out the caller's name.
"It's your mother, it would be wise to accept the call," Baelish's voice sounded with mirth, and Rosie seriously wished she could look over at him to see what kind of eerie expression was on his face. That face with the neat mustache...which she was not picturing between her legs. No. What was wrong with her, today? It had to be something hormonal.
"You answer it," She said quickly, knowing that Baelish was more than willing to talk to the woman of his friend-zone dreams. Little did she know, Baelish wanted to answer the phone for other reasons.
"Hello, Cat," Baelish answered her phone and Rosie rolled her eyes at his affectionate nickname for her mother. Of course he was extra nice to her mother. What Rosie could not see, however, was the appreciative smile across the man's face as he let his eyes carefully roam over her from the side. He took in every freckle—every little scar and beauty mark gracing her pale skin. Catelyn sounded taken aback as he answered her daughter's phone. He chuckled lightly.
"Not to worry, she's with me. Your daughter was kind enough to take an old man out today," He spoke warmly into the phone and Rosie rolled her eyes at his overused old man card. He wasn't even that old...at least he wasn't as old as her parents. She bit her tongue, wondering if older, married women were Baelish's thing. Not my mother, you son of a bitch.
"Yeah, yeah, we're almost home, okay? You can hang up now!" Rosie spoke up loudly, hoping her mother had heard her on the other end. After a few more polite exchanges into the phone, Baelish hung up and placed the phone back down. What a relief, back to silence. Rosie reached to turn the radio on once more, not knowing why she felt so irritated, but her hand was stopped by a gentle touch. She shivered at the cold sensation of metal rings against her skin, yanking her hand away to rest it on the wheel once more. He probably was trying to get her to crash the damn car.
"Thank you for humoring me today, my dear," He smiled at her jerky reaction, taking delight in having elicited such a strong response. Her hand had been soft beneath his fingers, and he craved to touch more of the girl. She gave him a cold stare before shrugging off his thanks.
"No problem, I guess," Aloof and terse was her response, but red cheeks gave the snappy girl away. His lips twitched into a knowing smile at her adolescent indifference. He'd set the young woman straight one day. Until then, he would be patient, keenly waiting for the perfect opportunity to engrave his name into her thoughts. He had lied to Catelyn over the phone. Her daughter was far from safe with him...and he was the last person the Starks should have trusted their feisty daughter with.
Rosie finally pulled up to the large Stark estate, parking quickly and practically leaping out of the car. Baelish was weird, but he wasn't all that bad at the end of the day...She curiously peered over at him as he calmly exited the car, his glinting eyes catching hers from the other side. An uncertain smile tugged at her lips.
"You've done me a great service, Rose. I ask that you accept a favor in return—anything you want," He returned her girlish smile, eyes flashing over those pink lips as they briefly parted at his offer.
"Anything?" Her eyes seemed to brighten with interest at the suggestion of endless possibilities, and he knew the girl would keep him in mind if she ever found herself in need. If she asked him nicely, he would even give her more than she wanted.
"Anything, anytime," Baelish stated simply once more, chuckling as blue eyes squinted at him in disbelief. He could see the girl's thoughts played upon her face as she genuinely considered his offer. How endearing.
"Okay...I'll keep your favor for a rainy day, then," Her youthful blush made him wish he could touch her again, if only to feel the warmth of her cheeks beneath his fingers. Darker thoughts of the girl sighing his name crossed his mind. One day soon...Change was coming to Winterfell.
Rosie lay sprawled out on her bed, mind wandering over the strange events of the day. Maybe Baelish wasn't so bad after all. She still had a lot of growing up to do and perhaps that was why Baelish and his maturity made her so uncomfortable. He actually tried to treat her like an adult today. Rosie frowned, briefly wondering what the man thought of her.
Groaning in frustration, she rolled over and buried her face in a pillow. Her once well-defined feelings towards Baelish were suddenly growing muddled. She'd hated him for so long, but something had changed today. She found herself wanting to prove herself to him, and although she would never admit it, she admired his dubious success and—embarrassingly—liked the dusting of silver at the front of his dark hair. Rosie shuddered at her own thoughts. She wasn't actually attracted to that creep, was she?He was old enough to be her dad. But he was pretty damn sly with that mustache and those silver hairs of his—he always dressed and acted so proper, but there was just something dirty about him. She kind of wanted to find out what it was…
No! This was Baelish she was thinking about. Her thoughts shifted once more as she briefly pondered what the cold rings on his fingers would feel like if he put them in-
She batted the thought away, groaning in frustration at the perverted imagery blooming in her head. No, she did not want Baelish like that! It was going to be a long week. Hopefully she wouldn't be dreaming of riding Baelish's Littlefinger by the end...
The next morning, Rosie woke up late, abandoning her previous routine of sneaking about the house in favor of facing whatever Baelish threw her way. She got ready and started to nervously make her way downstairs, only to see Jon round the corner with a sad yet determined look about him. Dark eyes widened as they caught sight of her, and she smiled down at him.
"Hey early bird, already had your morning run?"
Jon's frown seemed to grow at his sister's chipper tone. Rosie stopped halfway down the staircase, quickly realizing that this was not Jon's normal brooding.
"What's wrong?" Her brow furrowed as she stared at her brother in concern, awaiting his response.
He cast his head down, a pained look spreading across his features at the worry in her voice. Out of all the Stark siblings, she had always cared for him the most…
"I have something to tell you," His tone was grave as his eyes looked up to meet his sister's wide gaze. This was going to be very hard. He had been dreading this moment for a long time now.
"Please, Jon. Tell me," Rosie stepped forward, stopping at the final step of the stairs to meet her brother's sad eyes. They searched her face as if looking for the right words before he rested a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm leaving tomorrow…" Despairing eyes met her own and his hand gently gripped her shoulder as she gasped, her eyes beginning to water as the reality of Jon's words set in.
"Please-" She wanted to convince him to stay, but Jon cut her off, pulling her into a hug.
"Don't, Rosie. I have to go. Uncle Benjen is here..." Jon stared down, his heart breaking at his younger sister's miserable expression. Rosie pulled away in realization.
"You're joining the Night's Watch…" Her voice broke in fear at the thought of Jon willingly risking his life. She couldn't lose him. He hugged her tighter, sighing sadly as he felt his shoulder grow damp from her tears.
"Don't worry, you'll have Robb and the others," Jon knew the Stark siblings would stick together, no matter how much Rosie claimed to be annoyed by the younger bunch. He heard her sniffle out a laugh through her bawling.
"You should tell Arya next," She puffed out, trying to negate her selfish crying with a false smile.
"I will," He returned the smile weakly, staring at the top of his sister's head as she simply hugged him, knowing that no words of his could comfort her. From the top of the staircase, a shadowy figure caught his eye.
Petyr Baelish was standing at the railing, hands clasped behind his back as his eyes focused on Rosie's unassuming form. His eyes shifted to meet Jon's stony gaze with a discerning smile and a nod before he moved on and vanished into the upper hallway. A grimace spread across Jon's features. He looked back down to Rosie, the distraught girl unaware of Baelish's previous attention. He lightly grabbed his sister's shoulders, knowing that something had to be said before he left.
"Rosie, please stay away from Baelish," Jon pleaded with the redhead. Baelish was one of the last people he trusted around his family, and the look he had given his younger sister did not sit well with him. Rosie glanced up at Jon, pulling away and wiping off her tears with a furrowed brow at the mention of Baelish.
"Of course I will," She rolled her eyes, feigning disgust towards the name despite her glowing cheeks.
"I mean it, Rosie," Jon fixed her with a serious look, not quite liking the flush on her cheeks.
"Don't worry, I won't go near him...I promise," She glanced down at her feet, not sure if she even believed that herself.
Jon pat her shoulders at her response, backing away from the girl as she continued to look down. She was just like Bran—always looking at her feet while lying...Jon sighed, not wanting to press his sister further on the matter. He loved Rosie, but the girl was undeniably reckless and quick to grow defensive. Jon would not leave with his sister upset at him...and he would not leave until he had a word with Petyr Baelish…
Jon is probably the most loyal and reliable of Ned's children. As a character, I wanted Rosie to share some good and bad qualities with her siblings, and Rosie is very similar to Sansa in terms of meaning well, but being bratty/spoiled/immature and easily manipulated—especially by a master like Baelish. Since this is a modern alternate universe, I think a modern world equivalent of Jon joining the Night's Watch would be joining a sort of of armed forces, and going to "The Wall" would be the equivalent of going to an unsafe warzone. I really enjoyed writing the car scene with Baelish and Rosie. The song equivalent that was playing that I had in mind was ZAYN's PILLOWTALK...I hate how that title is in all caps...I know this is an alternate GOT universe, so I didn't want to explicitly state what song it was...I also had Beyonce's 7/11 in mind, could you imagine? On a side note, some of the main themes for this chapter were based on the song Humming by Turnover. Am I weird for choosing individual chapter songs and playing them on repeat while I write? You'll be seeing more Robb and Theon in the next chapter! Please review, I like knowing what you guys think so far and what you want to see more of (Baelish and his ring-clad "Littlefingers" perhaps?) in future chapters! Until next time!