Hey everyone! Here is another one of my stories that I've revisited, and revised. I hope you all enjoy The God of Death: A Hodor Story.

Petyr Baelish had a confident spring to his step as he strutted around the Vale of the Eeryie the morning after he killed his new wife Lysa Aryn. He felt as though he owned the place. In truth, he did own the place. That is until the young Lord Aryn came of age and Petyr was making plans that that would never come to pass already.

As he walked towards his destination, he could hear over and over again in his head the surprised gasp of his late wife. She really shouldn't have been that surprised. After all, she had conspired with him to kill her late husband Jon Aryn. She should have known that he would do anything for power and that included kill for it.

He was about to start humming a merry tune to himself when out of nowhere he heard a voice. At first, the voice sounded quite like Lsya's that he almost let out a shriek of surprise.

"Lord Baelish," the voice called out in that eerie voice that sounded like Lysa's. It really did sound like Lysa's voice. But it couldn't be Lysa's voice.

"I push her out the Moon Door," Petyr told himself as though to quiet the voice that was saying this was Lysa Aryn returned from the dead. "She can be back."

"Lord Baelish," the voice called out yet again. Still sounding exactly like Lysa. Still making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Not now," he said, taking a calming breath and telling himself once more that Lysa Aryn wasn't coming back. She was gone and there was no way that she could come back.

A giddy feeling took over him as he continued on his trek through the Vale of Aryn. He was practically skipping as he walked down the hallway. Although he covered this when he encountered anyone on their way about their business. He was after all the master manipulator.

Now that Lysa's gone I can move forward with my plans, he thought. He had numerous plans that he was thinking of. But the biggest of them all was to woo and marry the Stark family's only remaining heir as far as he knew. Sansa. Just the thought of her name brought to mind everything that could possibly be.

But then again, he should probably leave that plan to the wayside for now. He didn't want to look like a bad guy after all. His wife, her aunt, just having died by being pushed through the Moon Door.

No. He'd find her a suitable husband amongst his own allies. A man who he could control and manipulate into marrying the girl. A man he could then get rid of and upon said man's death, he could reach out and console the grieving widow.

He was just thinking about who the foolish victim….lucky gentleman would be when the voice called out again. But this time the voice didn't sound like Lysa's. This time the voice was a softer, more gentle tone. One that he was beginning to be very familiar with due to hearing it more often than not. This time the voice sounded like Sansa Stark herself as though she'd heard his thoughts about her.

"Lord Baelish," she called out.

He looked around trying to spot the redhead girl, no, woman in the hallway. But to no avail. He let out a sigh of annoyance at the games that women played with me. He didn't have time for that right now.

"Not now," he said rather sharply, knowing he would have to find some way of apologizing for it later on. In his mind, anyone could be bought with the right amount of money and women most of all.

"Suit yourself," the Lysa voice said, sounding as though it was close by.

He was about to take another step when something inside of himself told him to stop walking. Which was a good thing too because if he'd have taken that one more step he'd have pitched himself out the Moon Door.

He was just starting to wonder how he'd gotten to the Moon Door when out of nowhere he felt a huge hand on his back. That wouldn't have concerned. Except for the fact that the hand had pushed him none too gently and he found himself falling out the Moon Door.

The last thing he heard as he fell out of sight was a very masculine voice calling out to him. "HOOOODDDOOORRRR!"

I hope you all enjoyed the pure crackiness that is The God of Death: A Hodor Story as much as I enjoyed writing.