Petyr waited at a small campfire with Arla for Catelyn Stark to return to her tent.
"What are we waiting for, exactly? Your first love to allow you to see her?" Arla asked.
"No. I am sowing misinformation and lies in the camp."
"How so?" Arla wondered.
"By staying here, and looking all pensive, while whispering to you, they will think that I am nervous or apprehensive about approaching the Stark woman. They'll spread rumours about me and my 'lost love' and call me all kinds of names."
"You are waiting for them to ruin your reputation?" she asked.
"In a sense, yes. You see. Despite my love for what you did and my desire to indulge, it didn't help me maintain my smart, knowledgeable, but 'harmless' image. The more they talk, the more others will twist the tale of me toying with Brienne as a fabricated story."
"But you didn't toy with her. That was me."
"I know, but that's not how this works."
"Urgh, this is stupid. Why not open the curtain and reveal yourself? That would make everything much simpler," Arla complained.
"True, but then I wouldn't be able to pull the threats in the background, now would I? Relax, we'll also have time to do other things. Now, let's go, I believe we waited long enough."
Petyr turned around and saw Margaery Tyrell and her brother, Loras Tyrell, approach. Loras whispered something in her ear and then left her. Petyr and Arla walked forward.
"Lord Baelish, how nice to--"
"No time, girl. I need to see someone," Petyr said.
Margaery Tyrell stood there flabbergasted at being disrespected to such a degree. It seemed that Petyr was looking to embarrass or enrage everyone in the camp, and in some way, that was indeed the case. He didn't respect Renly Baratheon, and Margaery thought she was her grandmother.
Petyr made his way to the tent of Catelyn Stark. She sat at a desk and looked at him angrily. Slowly, she rose.
"How dare you?"
"How dare I what?" Petyr asked.
"How dare you show your face here in front of me?"
"You seem angry. Remind me again, why that is."
"You betrayed NED!!" she shouted.
Petyr pursed his lips.
"Betrayed?"
"YES!"
"You may have heard false rumours."
"You betrayed him, the moment you turned your back on him."
Petyr was genuinely confused. He hadn't thought about Catelyn Stark for a long time, so he wasn't quite sure what he may or may not have told her. But he was certain that he didn't repeat the same thing that the original did. Then he realised what she was talking about.
"Ah, I see. The letter."
"Yes, the letter. I asked for your help. I begged you to help Ned in the Capital. You agreed, you promised you would do it."
"First off, you begged for nothing. You told me. You tried to appeal to our 'friendship', which we apparently had a long time ago, which was very one-sided. You wanted me to go to King's Landing, ask for my old position at the Small Council and then do what Eddard Stark asked of me. And all that for... well, what exactly?"
"Mine and our House's eternal gratitude."
"Right," Petyr smiled sarcastically.
"I trusted you. My husband trusted you! And you betrayed our faith with treachery," Catelyn said.
Petyr couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head.
"You find this amusing?"
"Indubitably."
"..."
"Forgive me, dowager Stark. But the narcissism you display... simply breathtaking."
"Get out!"
"Look at you, all enraged, because life didn't give you lemonade for once. You played with the feelings the old Petyr Baelish had for you and got him to do anything you wanted. Too bad for you, the old Petyr died during his fight against Brandon Stark... You killed him, Brandon Stark freed me."
Catelyn Stark grew angrier.
"GET OUT!" she shouted and unsheathed a short dagger, pointing it at him.
...
Petyr didn't leave at all. He didn't even move, only looking at her. The way he looked at her unnerved her, however, and that placed a small, amused smile on his face. He even took a step forward.
"It seems that you're quite angry. The only question is, what for?"
"You know exactly why, you disgusting snake. With all of your lies and delusions of grandeur... You and your disgusting friends."
"Oh, shut up, will you? So you lost your husband, eh? Well, I'll let you in on a little secret: no one cares. Ask anyone what they thought about Eddard Stark, and they will tell you how honourable he was. But the truth is, he was a bloody half-wit. He announced his intention of revealing the King to be an incestuous bastard and was then surprised to be killed afterwards. The harsh truth is, no one cares about Eddard Stark anymore, not even your own son."
Petyr's words both angered and shocked Catelyn. She had never heard anyone speak about her beloved Ned like that. Before she could lose her temper fully and stab Petyr, he continued.
"You cry about Ned Stark, when in truth, you should worry about those still living."
That caught Catelyn off guard.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you want to see your girls again? Do you want to see them again in one piece, unharmed, un--... soiled?"
Catelyn shook like a leaf, so intense was her rage.
"Sansa, growing more beautiful by the day and Arya, still as wild as ever."
"You have Arya, too?"
"Both of them are safe and healthy and untouched... for the most part. But you don't know King Joffrey or his mother, Cersei. Every day, the king grows more unhinged and dangerous. And more importantly, he started to punish Sansa for the victories of Robb."
"What?!"
"Had a king's guard almost rip all of her clothes off and punch her in front of the entire court. Had I not arrived, who knows what might have happened? But with each victory your son attains, the king will grow more erratic and unhinged. You should fear for their safety."
Catelyn slowly dropped her arm and put the dagger away. She seemed to have lost all her strength.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I was sent here by the Hand of the King to meet with you. The Lannisters will trade your daughters for Jaime Lannister," Petyr said.
"Of course they will. Jaime Lannister for two girls? Robb will never agree to those terms."
"Which is why I'm here, speaking to you and not Robb Stark."
"You think I'd keep secrets from my son?" she asked.
"I think you love all your children and would die inside if not just one, but two of them were tortured, killed or worse, because you weren't willing to do everything you could. And trust me when I tell you, you haven't seen anything yet. This is your only and last chance. And it's not a very hard thing to do either."
...
"And while you ponder on this, I have brought you a gift."
"I don't want your gifts," Catelyn scoffs weakly.
"A token of Tyrion Lannister's goodwill. He wants you to understand that this exchange of prisoners is offered in good faith."
"Good faith?"
Two silent sisters walk in, together with Arla, carrying the remains of Eddard Stark.
"What's this?" Catelyn asks.
However, Petyr doesn't answer and lets her have a look inside the box herself.
"Your husband was an honourable man. Observe what honour brought him. Think about that when you make your decision."
Petyr then walked out of the tent, leaving her alone with the corpse.
.
During the night, King Renly Baratheon was assassinated by the Shadow creature, which was brought into the world by Melisandre and fathered by Stannis Baratheon, shortly after he agreed to an alliance with King Robb Stark. Both Brienne of Tarth and Catelyn Stark were present when it happened. His Kingsguard, Brienne, was wrongly blamed for the death, and she fled the camp with Catelyn Stark. As the morning arrived, Petyr and Arla were eating breakfast in their tent when the news reached the entirety of the camp.
"I adore you."
Petyr looked at Arla, who was eating the food he brought her from all across the Omniverse, in delight.
"As do I."
"Hmm? You adore yourself as well?"
"Haha, you, of course. Although I do admit, I am quite an attractiv--"
"Yeah, yeah, stop that."
Petyr chuckled.
"So, what do we have planned today?" Arla asked.
"Honestly, I was thinking about showing you another world. Might be interesting. Get to see new laws of physics and acquire some tools to use."
"You can simply create them though."
"I could, but it's not nearly as entertaining, is it?"
"True. So, when are we--"
"Lord Baelish."
The sound of Margaery Tyrell was heard outside of the tent. Petyr looked at Arla confused and she smiled. They had both forgotten that this was supposed to be a serious moment. The leader of the army they were at, had just been killed and they were enjoying their breakfast. Not that either of them cared, breakfast was important after all. Petyr sighed and pulled the curtain back, allowing Margaery to enter.
"Lady Margaery, good morning."
"It isn't a good morning, Lord Baelish. Renly Baratheon was killed last night," she said.
Petyr almost smirked hearing her words. She didn't say 'my husband' had died.
"A tragedy, then. Although it sounds like you moved on quite quickly. So what can I help you with?" he asked. her
"I was--"
Right then, Loras Tyrell enters the tent with an angry expression.
"Good morning to you as well, Ser Loras. I apologise for your loss," Petyr said.
"As if you cared," Loras said, disgusted.
"So if what you tell me is true, Lord Stannis will be here within the hour. Once he arrives, Renly's bannermen will flock to him. Your former companions will fight for the privilege of selling you to their new king."
Loras unsheathed his sword and walked towards Petyr, pointing his blade at him.
"And you want that privilege for yourself?" he asked.
"Loras!"
"You mistake my pleasant demeanour with weakness, Loras Tyrell. Get that sword out of my face."
Petyr had had enough of people pointing blades in his direction. It was getting dull, and he was no longer amused. Any more of this and he would end up the pathetic child that was the homosexual.
"Or what? Huh?"
"Arla, would you please demonstrate the 'or what' situation?" Petyr sighed.
"Do you think--"
Arla didn't wait a second longer. She appeared in front of Loras and slapped the blade to the side, moving in and kicking Loras's feet from underneath him, causing him to fall.
"If I wanted to hand you over, I could have done that quite easily. But I am not talking to Stannis Baratheon right now, am I? I am talking with both of you. And you came to me, not the other way around. So you will show me respect."
Petyr's tone was cold and sharp. Like a blade that had been sheathed the entire time and was now having the smallest peaks outside. Loras, while surprised, remembered his anger and stood up again.
"Ride back to Highgarden, sister. I'm not running from Stannis."
"Brienne of Tarth murdered Renly," Margaery said.
"I don't believe that, and you don't believe that. Who gained the most from our king's death?" Loras asked and then turned to Petyr.
"Stannis."
"I will put a sword through his righteous face."
"We can't stay here," Margaery said.
"He would have been a true king. A good king."
"Tell me, Ser Loras, what do you desire most in this world?" Petyr asked.
"Revenge," Loras answered right away.
"Of course. But that is the most self-destructive of motivations. Should you choose this path, you may succeed, but you will destroy yourself in the process."
"I don't car--"
"And the rest of your House."
...
"You will not succeed this way. Not here, not today. You wouldn't even meet Stannis Baratheon, should you choose to stay and fight. Stormland soldiers will either kill you or capture you, whether they are Stannis' soldiers or your former comrades. So, control your temper and be smart about this."
"You can't avenge him from the grave. Bring the horses, please."
Loras finally brought himself to do it and left Petyr's tent. Petyr smiled internally and shook his head.
"Renly was very handsome..." Margaery mused.
"I'll take your word for it."
"... Tell me why you showed me such disrespect yesterday? I understand wanting to see your beloved again, but it seems as though you knew you wouldn't be punished for it. Why is that?" Margaery asked.
"In what way did I show you disrespect?" Petyr asked.
"Don't play games with me, Lord Baelish. I show you the proper decorum by calling your Lord Baelish and not Littlefinger."
"Because Lord Baelish is my name, while Littlefinger is a title meant to be funny and insulting."
"..."
"..."
"You're right. Calling myself Queen doesn't make me one."
"Not at Renly Baratheon's side. No matter what you thought, you would not have become Queen at his side. In this war, there is not just Stannis Baratheon to think about."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"It is astonishing to see that you don't realise this. Yes, you had the superior numbers. But most of your Rose Knights are untested in battle. Stannis Baratheon is a proven battle commander who is willing to die to achieve victory. Even if you had won, which isn't certain, you would have had to go up against Tywin Lannister and potentially Robb Stark. So believe me when I tell you, this outcome only helped you."
"In what way?"
"You want to become queen, don't you?"
"No."
"No?"
"I want to become THE queen."
"There is only one queen. Good, there is a way that both your and your brother's desires can be fulfilled."