Night fell, and the yellow color of Lannisport dimmed. Only slightly, though; it would not disappear completely, even if the sun went out.
The Golden Maiden
A giant golden sign outside a big building. Men entered carrying bags full of coins and always left carrying less.
Jaehaerys did not enter through the front door. After talking to Ned, he went to his mansion. He needed to eliminate several targets at once. He would start with Baelish.
The prince hunched over; it would be strange to see a ragged guy with a straight posture. He had to play a role. He wandered around the premises, observing. The sound of revelry and the fake moans of the prostitutes began to revolt his guts.
Finally, he entered through a window that was too low—an empty room, smelling of musk and fish. Jaehaerys resisted the urge to cover his nose, walked across the creaking wooden floor, and went out into the hallway. Outside, women were leading drunken men into rooms. All of them were beautiful blondes.
He walked through the building, passing each room, the same sounds coming from each. All the girls moaned in the same way, almost as if they had taken a course on the correct way to moan to please idiots. He couldn't find an office in any of the rooms.
"You look lost, good Ser," a mature voice said as it approached him.
She was too old to be a prostitute. The matron of the place, perhaps.
"And you seem just what I need," Jaehaerys dragged her into a room. She laughed, surprised by how easily the man manipulated her.
"And do you have enough to pay me?" the woman asked coquettishly. Her eyelashes fluttered in the air.
"Do you accept steel?" Jaehaerys showed her a dagger inside his tattered cloak.
"GU-," Jaehaerys covered the woman's mouth.
"Shhh," Jaehaerys felt no satisfaction at seeing the woman's tears well up. "I didn't come for you. I came for someone else. I need their location. You'll be nice and give it to me, right?" The woman nodded frantically. The prince sighed, a little indecisive. "Peter Baelish," he whispered his name, the matron's eyes widened. "I know he's here, hiding like a rat. Take me to him," he asked.
He had risked saying Peter's name. He really hoped the woman would guide him correctly and not try anything dirty. He didn't want to kill her. But her neck would turn as easily as a windmill.
"Downstairs," she said when Jaehaerys loosened his grip on her mouth a little. "His office is downstairs," the prince nodded.
"Lead the way," the prince ordered. "If we walk into a trap, I'll kill you," he warned. The poor woman trembled like a frightened fawn. "Wipe your tears and compose yourself. Surely you know how to put on a brave face, don't you?" Jaehaerys was sure that his years of experience would serve him well that day.
The woman took a box of powder out of one of the drawers in the room, which seemed to be a standard feature in all the rooms. Jaehaerys watched the woman's movements, screamed, and threw the dagger at her neck.
"This way," the woman said quietly, feigning a smile, loosening her clothes a little, and dragging him out of the room.
The blonde woman took him downstairs to a room, even though she could hear activity inside. They didn't get many looks; the girls were used to situations like this. She stopped in front of the wooden door.
"Normally... normally there are six men in there," she warned him. "Under the bed, there's a trapdoor that leads to an office, that's where Baelish is," she tried to walk away.
"I hope you're not lying," said the prince.
Jaehaerys picked her up and pushed open the door, pretending to be drunk. Just as she had said, there were six men inside. Two were on top of a red-haired woman, who was moaning even though her face looked more dead than alive. The other four were in a corner, playing cards.
"Get out!" said one of them, mistaking him for a drunk.
"No room for one more?" Jaehaerys staggered, with the matron at his side, and the woman tensed.
"The table is full," said one, smiling.
"Ah, what a shame," Jaehaerys slit the man's throat. A second of shock as the men tried to react, the woman next to the prince let out a huge gasp at the sight of the blood. Jaehaerys dropped her to the ground.
Jaehaerys killed the other three just as quickly, slashing their throats. One raised his hands, but that only left him with one arm before he died. Another fell from his chair to the floor with a thud. The fourth managed to dodge the slash as he threw himself backward, fell to the floor, and before he could get up, Jaehaerys kicked his head against the floor. His brains splattered on the floor.
Then he threw a dagger at the face of one of the men fucking on the bed. The dagger missed, ending up hitting him in the neck. A stream of blood spurted out like a geyser, soaking the woman underneath.
'It's not that she is not used to fluids,' Jaehaerys thought.
The last man managed to react, pulling out of the woman as he tried to run out of the room. There was a crack! His face ended up on his back at 180°, and he fell to the floor.
Jaehaerys looked at the girl on the bed. She had stopped moaning abruptly and was staring at the ceiling. It was as if she had been programmed to moan when she was with a man; she didn't even react to the amount of blood on her body. She looked like a Pavlovian victim.
Jaehaerys looked at the bodies, some still twitching post-mortem. He felt only disgust at the sight of them, their blood staining his clothes.
The prince moved the bed, looked down at the trapdoor, and lifted it. There were steps down there, about 10 or 12 feet deep. There was silence. He couldn't believe Baelish hadn't heard anything.
"Ah... Madame," Jaehaerys called to the midwife. "Come with me," he dragged her down with him.
In the dim light of the room, a faint light shone. Jaehaerys stopped the dagger aimed at his face. He looked at the attacker's face, a short man with gray-green eyes and a pointed beard adorning his chin.
"Ah, Baelish, I didn't expect to see you here," said the prince. The man swallowed hard as he tried to free himself.
"I think there's been a misunderstanding, Ser," Baelish had not recognized Jaehaerys, he couldn't see his face.
"You tried to kill my daughter. Was she the target? Was it a miscalculation? I don't care," said the prince.
"I am a man with many contacts. I can give you a lot; you will gain more than you will get by killing me. What do you want? Women? Gold? Land?" The man whispered, his voice soft as silk. "I can give you all that," he offered, trying to seduce him into accepting.
"All that... I already have, Lord Coin," said the prince. "Get out of here, Madame," he said to the woman who was watching everything in terror. He showed his eyes to him.
"It's you, Ja-," the prince covered Baelish's mouth. When he saw the matron leave, he let him speak. "Is it because of Rhaelle? Horrible thing... I know. I know who was responsible," said Baelish.
"Of course, I don't think there's anyone who knows you better than yourself," the prince smiled.
"It was the Lannisters. I have witnesses who saw them buy—"
"Chaos is a ladder," the prince said. "In chaos, you would thrive. My daughter dies, and I rage and start a war against the Lannisters. Or perhaps you intended to kill Sansa? Myrcella?" Baelish smiled bitterly.
"The target was Myrcella. The tournament is in honor of her name day. Brynden had crowned her. The Hound probably would have too. So would Ser Balon Swann," said the man.
He directed the target toward the person with whom Jaehaerys had the least connection.
"Clever."
"The Lannisters have accumulated too much power..." said the little man.
"And that power... would be better in your hands, right? Myrcella dies, Lannisters against Targaryens. Chaos. Sansa dies, Stark against Lannister. Again, chaos. You thrive in chaos, while others fall down the ladder, you climb it..." Jaehaerys said, looking at Baelish's face.
"Your daughter was not the target, I swear, I would never harm Catelyn's offspring... I... I love her," he confessed through tears. "It broke my heart to see her suffer," he tried to convince him.
"I don't give a damn. My daughter almost died because of your obsession. If I let you live, you'll lead Stark to the Lannisters or to me. Eddard is a bad player. He doesn't understand bastards like you," said the prince.
"Let me live, and I'll tell you all the secrets of the kingdom. Your allies, your enemies... where there are opportunities, where a single move is enough to start a war. I'll be your right hand, your best man. I'll swear allegiance," Baelish pleaded. "I know who sent assassins to ArgentStone," he said, as if trying to tempt him.
"Your tongue is quite impressive," Jaehaerys said as he released his arm. Baelish sighed with relief for a second.
Jaehaerys's hand went into his mouth. He reached in, grabbed his tongue, and with a slow pull began to rip it out. The man screamed, kicked, and hit him, but Jaehaerys did not stop. He heard the tissues and muscles crack as blood began to pour from Baelish's mouth.
Teark!
With one last movement, Jaehaerys ripped out his tongue. The man curled up on the floor. Jaehaerys lifted his head, grabbing him by the chin, and made him look up at the ceiling. Blood began to accumulate and enter his airways, obstructing them.
Peter fought back, but he was no good at fighting. He was good with words and intrigue.
He began to spit blood upward, like a broken fountain. But even that did not save him. The retching continued unabated, and Jaehaerys' hands were covered in blood. The air smelled of iron, feces, and urine.
The man died thanks to his greatest attribute.