A/N: All of the characters belong to GRRM.
Chapter 10: The Mad Mouse III
The Gates of the Moon had been a relatively quiet place since Baelish's return a few weeks previously. Alayne had been quite distracted during his absence, and he wondered if the girl had missed her father. Robert, on the other hand, had exhibited behavior never before seen in the young lord. He had played games, and had half the castle taking turns teaching him how to properly ride a horse. Ser Shadrich himself had started to teach Robert swordplay, at least until proper arrangements could be made with the master-at-arms.
Baelish's return, however, had brought about a subtle change. Shadrich thought it obvious Alayne was more withdrawn and meek. She had previously been quite skilled at courtly flirting and feasting, but now spent the majority of her time with Maester Colemon. You would think the girl wanted to be a maester for as much work she now put into her studies. Initially Ser Shadrich had not noticed Alayne's slight withdrawal from society because Robert had started to shine. Mayhaps it was misplaced, but Shadrich felt he was very much responsible for Robert's newfound energy, due to his desire to get Robert out of his room and playing games, and Shadrich took pride that the boy was doing so well.
Except, Shadrich thought, the boy was not doing quite as well as he had previously been. He didn't believe anyone else saw it, but the boy had a slight grimace to his face each time he mounted the horse. He started to hold back, rather than charge, during their sword fights. He knew the boy had been sick, and did not want to push him too hard, but he felt that, perhaps, the boy's energy had been like a false spring; short and excited everyone needlessly, just to remind them that hard times are still to come. He didn't voice his opinions out loud, and hoped he was mistaken.
Though the calendar read only two turns of the moon, Shadrich was comfortable in his situation at the Vale and felt as though he had been in his role as a hedge knight of the Lord Protector for years.
He had finally finished reading the book of songs that Alayne had graciously lent him, and he had carefully made note of words with which he needed help. He hadn't wanted to ask her for help as she has been so studious, but today she seemed done with studying and he summoned his courage to ask her.
Shadrich, slightly nervous, approached Alayne, bowed, and humbly asked for a bit of assistance with the words. Alayne blushed and stammered an apology for not asking on his progress sooner. She escorted him to the library where they sat side-by-side and looked at the words.
They progressed just fine until he came to The Mother's Hymn. This was a curious song to be preferred by a young maiden, Shadrich had thought, but the worn folds in the book suggested it was her favorite. As far as Shadrich knew, she was untouched by the war and he wondered if she was secretly pining for some lost love.
When Alayne noticed the page she blushed, fumbled, and dropped the book. It fell onto the Myrish-carpeted floor. They both bent to pick it up, but she was quicker. As she leaned down, her head dropped, and his hand, reaching for the book, pressed against the modest hood pinned to her hair. He laughed and apologized, but he had knocked it slightly askew.
When he saw what was beneath the hood he stopped breathing, mid-laugh. He quickly realized his mistake and continued to laugh, apologizing for harming her hat. Sansa Stark looked at him with her bright blue eyes, smiling and brushing off the apology. She placed the book back on the table, adjusted her cap, and continued reading.
Ser Shadrich sat, too startled to listen and finally interrupted her mid-sentence, "My Lady, please excuse me, but I know your father desired my presence at this time." He hurriedly stood, bowed, and left the library.
He walked purposefully to the open gardens to think. It had warmed slightly, and the fallen snow had all but melted. There was now but a fresh scattering of snow upon the frozen grounds.
Sansa Stark had been here all along. So much more made sense. Littlefinger hiring extra guards for his bastard daughter, her highborn speech and manners, and even, "oh," he murmured out loud, remembering the crate full of brown liquid crashing to the floor. "It had been a dye for her hair."
But what should he do now? He resisted the urge to run with her immediately. He knew the south was a mess. From what Littlefinger had told him, Queen Cersei had a monstrous defender who not only proved she was innocent of incest, but was also protecting King Tommen day and night, refusing to let the Tyrell council near the boy. Could he really bring this girl to the south to face that monster?
Sansa Stark was wanted by the crown for poisoning King Joffrey. He tried to imagine that sweet young maiden doing such an act. No, not a maiden. The girl had been married to that disfigured Imp. He must have forced her hand, he couldn't imagine her doing it on her own.
Had Ser Shadrich discovered her identity immediately upon his entrance to the Vale, he knew he would not have hesitated to bring the girl back to Varys in exchange for a bag of gold. But now? Could he really sentence sweet Alayne to death?
She had pleasantly flirted with him, lent him her books. Once she had even taken a short sword-holding lesson from him. She never treated him as though he was beneath her. Once he had figured that was because she was simply a bastard, but she was actually one of the highest born women in the land. No, she was truly a good young woman, and he didn't fancy the idea of seeing her head upon a spike in King's Landing.
He received plenty of gold from Littlefinger. The logical answer would be to stay here, winter in the safety of the Vale and pad his pockets. Littlefinger could hire him to find other people seeking Sansa Stark. He had already come across several in his travels. Mayhaps he could serve as a guard to prevent those people from interacting with the girl.
Yet if Littlefinger was protecting Lady Sansa, how would he feel knowing her secret was revealed? He may simply kill Shadrich. A dead man can't spread tales. It would be the safest of courses for Littlefinger.
Perhaps he would have to flee. Littlefinger had no reason to trust him.
He selected a bench within the garden to think over his options, and was still sitting there an hour later when the sun began to set.
"It is over time we had a little talk, don't you think?" Shadrich jumped as he heard the words whispered roughly into his ear. A grim-faced Lothor Brune stared down at Shadrich as one might peer at a misbehaving puppy. "Get up, Lord Baelish is waiting on you in his solar."
Ser Shadrich was an excellent swordsman, but didn't think a fight here in the garden would do him any good. He had no provisions put away, and fleeing in the winter would be certain death. Even if the battle was short, someone would hear it and raise an alarm and he would be unable to escape with much of a head start.
At the very least, he figured Littlefinger wouldn't dispose of him in his own solar. He stood and followed Brune inside.
He was unworried. He was the Mad Mouse, and mice always had corners and holes in which to hide. He just had to survive this meeting before he found his safe spot. He was not surprised Littlefinger had so quickly realized Shadrich had discovered his secret. The man was well known throughout the kingdoms for his ability to manipulate people. The man kept and discovered secrets as though it was as easy as praying to the gods. Littlefinger tended to have much better results than the gods.
Brune gestured for him to enter the solar. He stepped forward and Brune entered behind him, bolting the door securely. Brune indicated Shadrich should remove his sword belt. He unbuckled it and hung it along the wall. Shadrich noticed that Brune's remained on his waist, his right hand resting lightly on the hilt.
Littlefinger was seated in his usual padded chair, watching Shadrich with an air of indifference. Shadrich decided to follow his lead and calmly indicated to the chair across the table from Baelish, asking, "Might I sit and join you?"
Littlefinger's lips curled to a grin and he said, "Please be my guest. Would you prefer a glass of Dornish Red or an Arbor Gold?"
Shadrich watched as Littlefinger sipped from his own glass of Arbor Gold. A clear, sweet drink. Any poison added would be immediately detected in the Arbor. The sour Dornish Red would mask the color and the taste of a poison. The usual choice in this case was clear.
"A glass of Red, if you would be so good," Shadrich announced, sliding into his seat, ignoring Brune at his back.
He could show no fear. A selection of the Arbor would indicate guilt. It would give Littlefinger control of the situation, which he could not afford if he wished to leave the solar alive.
Littlefinger laughed appreciatively and poured the glass. Shadrich swept it up and drank half the glass immediately. "Shall we get down to business?" he asked pointedly, staring directly at Littlefinger's eyes.
Littlefinger smirked and remarked unctuously, "You seemed to have forgotten your duties today. What caused you to forget your evening guard and instead wallow upon a garden bench today?"
"Mayhaps I was reflecting in the beauty of your maiden daughter. The stark beauty of the snowy garden somehow reminds me of her."
Littlefinger laughed at his boldness and asked, "You truly just discovered her… beauty today? I took you for an intelligent man. I had expected it of you much sooner."
That comment distracted the Mad Mouse. Littlefinger had expected him to discover her identity? He needed to rethink his options; perchance Littlefinger wouldn't kill him after all. "Well, I may be slow, but I do believe I was the first to find it." He paused. "And I would guard it safely at all costs. Such an innocent beauty." He smiled widely. "There must be so many…suitors…who wish to take advantage of a maiden such as herself."
"Yes, the only question that remains is whether you are one of them or not."
A/N: does anyone know for sure the title of the song Sansa sings to the Hound? That was just a guess.