Chapter Text
Blood ran through his fingers. Warm. Littlefinger's pleased look in his eyes. It drew such intoxicating pleasure throughout the entirety of Phoenix's being. The writhing man soon fell limp in his arms, the blood slowed as their heart beat what was left out of the gaping wound Phoenix's blade had created. Their tension only grew as the sounds of muffled fear raised, the other bound man behind them had realized his own fate.
The dead was left to fall, blood splattering wetly across the floor as his body spread the puddle.
Such a mess to clean..
The crimson sparkled with the torchlight, the familiar color set Phoenix's teeth on edge. The significance of this sight. Taking a life at the command of his Mockingbird, pleasing him with it, seeing the approval in the man's dark gaze. It was more addicting than the act itself. Phoenix's breath was quickened, his adrenaline rushing to his mind as he turned with his master. The next victim of his blade was trying to get away, though one would find it hard with his mouth gagged and their hands and feet bound together in an unforgiving knot of rope.
These men had broken into the brothel where Littlefinger and his Phoenix had been residing that night; it had scared off a considerable amount of coin, as well as bringing fear to the girls. Such a thing was terrible for business, especially when their goal was to meet with Lord Baelish himself. They, however, had clearly lacked in their preparation to meet Littlefinger instead.
Tsk's clicked in Phoenix's ear, Littlefinger's voice had a way of searing through any other noise that threatened to fill the bird's hearing. He was tuned in to the slight man, it was as if his entire being was tied to him. To move as he moved. To know what he demanded before words were even said.
The Phoenix stepped around the man beneath them, gripping the back of his leather cuirass to force the man up enough to look at Littlefinger.
"Such a pitiful waste of life..."
His hand twitched at his side, he was on edge as well, Phoenix could practically taste it. Phoenix set his jaw, his head tilted down to frame his sight to resemble a bird of prey waiting for the word to strike. His crest dipped down his nose, a deep navy band wrapped around his head that also provided support for the mask that wrapped around much of the man's face. Only his eyes could be seen, leaving much to the imagination if one had not known how to read him. Littlefinger, though, was one who could.
The slight man pulled the gag from the bound man, drawing a desperate gasp as he struggled further. The rope wasn't forgiving.
"Please, it wasn't my fault. I didn't even want this-"
Cries filled the hall, cries that were muffled harshly by the sudden threat of a blade pressing to the taught of his throat. It still glistened with his partner's blood as some of it smeared onto his skin. A grip firm on his scalp pulled further, forcing him to look up at Littlefinger.
"I'll tell you- I say everythin', I swear it."
"I believe that you would.."
Littlefinger's eyes flickered up to Phoenix's, his head turning just enough for the bird's blade to promptly move. It was a clean, swift cut, and like his partner before him, the man met his fate.
~
Someone had wanted Lord Baelish dead. They had been vying to take his life for months now, but exactly who and why was still debated between the pair of birds. His reputation was impenetrable, there had been no breaches in confidentiality nor in plans and information. There was a piece to this puzzle that they hadn't found, and it had been driving them both mad.
Phoenix paced back...and forth...back...and forth, the length of Petyr's office had been scaled tenfold by the time the sun had reached its peak for the day. Lord Baelish flipped through pages and books, writing and reading, searching through records and letters as well as doing his usual duties as Master of Coin. There was to be a meeting soon, weekly check-in's and such proper terms that left Phoenix's mind. He didn't care for such specifics.
"It bothers you."
Petyr broke the silence between them, drawing Phoenix to stop at the window. Soft see-through curtains shaded the world in a soft pink, he let his fingers gently brush over the folds of the soft fabric.
"Of course it bothers me. There is no reason for this conspiracy against you. You have done nothing to bring this attention to yourself."
Phoenix's eyes were searing, looking at the Mockingbird suddenly. They met. He wondered if the man could feel how strongly he felt for him. He would have to know. He has to.
"And I will continue to do nothing for as long as this is a mystery to us."
'Us.'
Phoenix's lips pressed firmly together. Tension pinched at his shoulders, he hated how easily he was sated by the other. Such a simple term brought significance.
'Us.'
They were one. Tied together by Phoenix's unwavering loyalty and whatever else drew Petyr to trust the man so. There was still an absence of something. The years Phoenix had been at this man's side had been long ones, it had certainly shifted from their beginnings. When exactly the I's became us' was blurred. Perhaps the countless times Phoenix had proved Petyr's safety were what broke through, or maybe it was something else entirely. Only the Mockingbird himself knows.
There were still many things that drew space between them, all barriers yet one were placed by Lord Baelish. The man with all the secrets had many more that Phoenix was sure he would never know. As deeply as he desired to know every curve and turn that carved the labyrinth that was Petyr's mind, Phoenix knew that for as long as they lived he would never know everything.
Petyr rose, flipping one of his books closed. Papers creased and shifted as he moved from his desk, crossing the room until there were only a few feet between himself and the other.
"I do not fear feeble men when I have my bird watching over me."
The curl in his voice turned Phoenix towards him, jaw flexing beneath the mask. He could feel how deliberately Lord Baelish stroked his ego, and how deeply it worked.
"Do I have reason to feel differently?"
"No, my Lord."
Phoenix answered, sedated, his head bowed slightly.
"You will stay in my quarters from now until the foreseeable future."
Lord Baelish continued, his hands folded neatly at his middle. The particular gown he had chosen today was eye-catching, the form fitting fabric was adorned with beautiful intricacies of curling designs. Browns and golds all weaved together, with his familiar Mockingbird broach that was pinned at the base of his throat, a gift from Petyr. The afternoon sun bled through the pink curtains, making the fabric sparkle in Phoenix's eyes.
"As you wish. I will make the necessary arrangements."
Petyr watched as the bird acknowledged his command with pleased eyes. It wouldn't be pretended that Petyr didn't favor the man more than most, though how could he not? Unwavering dedication and unquestioning obedience was quite the display, especially after such a time. Phoenix turned, leaving Lord Baelish in his study with his thoughts.
~
They spent plentiful nights in this new arrangement; Phoenix resided on a sofa near the end of Petyr's bed, though how much sleep he had been getting was questionable. There were nights thay Phoenix knew he hadn't, every small sound had him alert even if he didn't move from his resting position. He would listen to the sound of his master's breathing, hearing how it slowed, deepened when he fell asleep. He would listen to Petyr shift beneath the blankets and imagine how he had moved, what position he had deemed more comfortable than the last. So easily, Phoenix could look up and see for himself, but he never did. For some reason he chose to allow his imagination to explore it.
It was evening, Petyr had retreated back to his room for the night, and as expected, Phoenix joined him. There hadn't been another attack since earlier that month, yet still there was still no new information that would explain as to why they were happening in the first place. Littlefinger had sent out men here and there, to learn, reach out, explore and discover any information of the situation. Little had come back, but they weren't exactly in a position to just give up.
"What of our plans with Elaine? She was meant to take her leave with the Starks last week."
Phoenix inquired as Petyr had begun to discard his various jewelry that adorned his fingers and clothes. The rogue crossed his arms as he neared a table littered with books and papers, his eyes glancing over the various writings and numbers that covered the parchments.
"We wait on that further,"
Petyr answered, his hands working now to remove his day gown. The temptation to watch was almost mind numbing, but Phoenix stayed his eyes away, now looking towards the closed shutters of the room window.
"The Warden of the North has plans to return to Winterfell, and I'd rather that obstacle move himself before I send our knight there to make friends."
Phoenix's attention turned to him, the slighter man was dressed in his loose undergarments, gray fabric covering just enough of Petyr's chest to leave Phoenix's mind wandering. Small curls peaked out from the unbuttoned gown and along with it a small glimpse of scarred skin reaching just below the end of his collarbone. He wondered how far that reached, if it expanded further than the thin line one could see from here. Before another thought could form, Petyr had turned away from him.
There was a further discussion, loosely speaking of their plans going forward with this conspiracy against Littlefinger and with their further intentions with Ned and the Starks. Politics bored Phoenix, and much of it he really didn't follow or choose to understand. The logistics and Petyr's safety were what mattered to the younger man, how they would work things out to make sure the known Master of Coin stayed just as simple as that.
~
Nights passed, things returned to normal, and plans had started to move accordingly.
It was late, or early. Petyr had been up still, having stressed over a new batch of 'employee's coming in and getting them settled always took more time than was needed. It was almost morning, the study was only lit by candles around Petyr's desk. He had poured himself a much needed glass of wine as he finished off some paperwork that he scribbled various amounts of information and numbers; the details weren't noted by Phoenix.
Said man sat along a fluffy expanse of cushion, pillows and blankets; he dressed relaxed, only wearing his trousers, his button down, and mask. Idly spinning a short blade on his finger, the ringlet on the end of its handle made the gesture mindless. The silence was comfortable among them, both knowing of each other's presence while enjoying the down time with the lack of socialization.
The silence was broken by a questionable noise outside the door. Steps, ones that sounded as though they were trying to be quiet. Phoenix's head snapped up, hand stealing his blade as he watched. Listening. Petyr's quill stopped, he had probably looked up as well, but the other's eyes didn't waver to glance at him. Slowly, the guard rose, shifting his weapon in his hand. Call it paranoia, but something suddenly felt off. As if a poison had seeped into the calm air and soured it.
Phoenix slowly padded over to the door, leaning in to listen against it. Two pairs of footsteps, gentle, careful. Desiring to be quiet meant someone who did not belong. The muscles in Phoenix's jaw danced, his adrenaline already spreading anticipation through his body. He should have waited for the intruders to let themselves into the study but his patience waned.
Phoenix looked back, locking eyes with Petyr for a brief moment as if to tell him the plan. Then, without a word, Phoenix opened the door and slid back- distancing himself from the sudden intrusion. Unlike the last situation, there was one instead of two. Armor clattered against itself instead of leather and fabric- odd for an assassin to dress in such a way. This was a quick assessment. The move was anticipated and a sword swung quickly towards Phoenix's chest. It missed.
Everything happened at once. The sound of Petyr standing, the assassin swinging again as he reached further into the study. Phoenix ducked low before swiftly throwing his knife, it stuck up beneath the man's chin. A thud. Clanking of his sword and armor hitting the ground was sure to wake others in the brothel.
The two shared another look before Phoenix moved in to flip the man over. There were already other's rushing to investigate the altercation. The rogue pulled a paper from the dead man's purse, uncrimped it and read.
The hit. There was a bounty. Not on Littlefinger. It was on Phoenix.
Petyr was beside him, taking the note before a word could be said.
"My lord? Sir?"
Knight Elaine. Thank the gods it wasn't someone else. Phoenix turned briefly to her, acting as though he was already moving to get rid of the body.
"Another hit. Help me."
Phoenix answered while Petyr moved away. There was nothing more than a brief knowing glance between each other. The situation had just shifted considerably.