The Mountain of Ice and Fire

The Small Council meeting at the Iron Throne concluded, and everyone left the throne room. Littlefinger Petyr did not get up.

Once everyone had left, Littlefinger slowly rose and walked towards the Iron Throne. He looked up at the towering, grotesque throne on the seven-step platform.

"What are you thinking about?" a soft, fragrant voice asked with a smile.

The effeminate voice echoed faintly in the throne room.

The hall was very quiet.

Littlefinger slowly turned around, watching Varys, the Spider, emerge slowly from behind a large pillar in the hall.

Varys had his hands tucked inside his large sleeves, his face was plump and powdered, and his scalp was clean-shaven and gleaming.

"I was wondering why Lord Renly didn't put a fur rug on the Iron Throne. Watching him squirm uncomfortably makes me uncomfortable too," Littlefinger said, standing straight and composed.

Varys smiled, his fragrance preceding him as he approached Littlefinger.

Rouge and powder were Varys's standard attire. He used all the perfumes and powders that noble ladies used, and only the highest quality ones. He was also a neat freak.

"In the two hundred and ninety-eight years of the Iron Throne's history, there has never been a practice of placing a fur rug on it," Varys said, approaching Littlefinger with a cordial smile.

"Oh, really? Whether it's a lion's skin, a wolf's skin, a shadowcat's skin, or a deer's skin, it would be much more comfortable to sit on. Oh, but deer skin might be out of the question, since the stag is the sigil of House Baratheon. How about leopard skin or shadowcat skin? That way, no one's sensibilities will be offended," Littlefinger said with a mischievous smile.

Varys chuckled. "When King Robert returns, you should suggest that King Robert use a bear skin or a boar skin."

"Indeed!" Littlefinger exclaimed, as if struck by a sudden realization. "The King loves to hunt, and he has killed countless bears and boars. Using bear skin or boar skin would not only make the King sit comfortably, but also showcase his bravery."

"House Mormont of the North has the bear, and House Crakehall of the Westerlands has the boar. I wonder what these two great houses would think if the King's Iron Throne was covered with bear skin or boar skin," Varys said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"They would certainly feel incredibly honored," Littlefinger said, the corners of his mouth turning up in his signature mischievous grin.

Varys stared at the corners of Littlefinger's mouth. "My lord, does it look like your mouth was injured by a slap?"

The smile vanished from Littlefinger's face, and he said seriously, "The new country prostitute doesn't know her place. I'll have to train her properly when I get back." He suddenly lowered his voice. "I wonder, my lord, how you have spent the long nights all these years, never being intimate with a woman?"

Varys had been castrated as a child by a sorcerer, becoming a eunuch. Littlefinger's mockery of Varys's physical defect was extremely vicious.

Varys himself was very sensitive about this.

But Littlefinger brought it up anyway, right in front of Varys.

Varys shrugged, looked down between his legs, and frowned. "The nights are indeed difficult, but fortunately, I haven't had my lips broken and my face swollen by a neurotic brute. I suppose that's not bad."

Littlefinger's expression changed slightly.

"The Mountain from the Westerlands came to King's Landing to discuss with you the grades of the gold ore he's about to hand over, and the number of carts. It seems he gave you quite a few benefits," Varys said, looking at the faint marks on Littlefinger's mouth that were almost healed. "My lord, I heard that drawing blood with a glass bottle after pricking the fingertip with a steel needle is generally a method used by sorcerers."

Littlefinger was shocked.

He had been wondering why the Mountain had taken his blood away in a glass bottle. He had been unable to figure out the Mountain's strange behavior.

"Did your little birds see what happened that night?" Littlefinger asked with a forced smile. He smoothed the straight shoulder strap on his right shoulder and straightened the mockingbird sigil on his chest.

"Although the Mountain's party doesn't use wine boys to pour wine, taverns and inns can't do without servants," Varys said with a smile.

"Oh, what about the murders in Flea Bottom?" Littlefinger asked, looking at Varys meaningfully.

"Polliver killed Iggo, who was very unlucky," Varys said lightly. Killing a person was like crushing a fly or stepping on an ant to him, casual and indifferent.

"I heard that Polliver also took Master Buz with him in a carriage. I wonder if that's true?" Littlefinger probed again.

"My lord, does Casterly Rock lack good blacksmiths?" Varys asked abruptly.

Littlefinger didn't understand why Varys suddenly asked this question. He considered it for a moment and said, "No!"

"That's strange then," Varys frowned.

If Casterly Rock lacked good blacksmiths, the Mountain would have a good reason to kidnap Tobho Mott. Varys didn't believe that the Mountain had captured the blacksmith for himself, but definitely for Casterly Rock. The Mountain was just a brute who, after eating his fill, would think about where to gamble or rape some pretty commoner woman.

"What's so strange?"

"It's nothing. It's always better to have more good blacksmiths," Varys said, finding a barely plausible reason for himself.

"What good blacksmiths?" Littlefinger asked indifferently, but his eyes couldn't hide the shadow of deep thought.

Varys changed the subject again, Littlefinger noticed that Varys's words were erratic. "My lord, why would the Mountain take away a Master Buz who was kicked out of the mint? What does he need the old Buz to do? Drink with him or sleep with him?"

"The Mountain doesn't need Buz," Littlefinger said. "He only needs women, wine, poppy milk, and killing and violence."

"Hmm, my lord, you're spot on!" Varys smiled, raising his hand to gently pat Littlefinger's shoulder. "Not many people can bear the Mountain's gifts, my lord. Let's go." Varys stepped away. "The King is surrounded by Lannisters. I think you and I should worry less."

The power over the national finances and the mint was in Littlefinger's hands. If Tywin of the Westerlands had captured Buz to do something, it would be Littlefinger's responsibility to investigate the truth.

But Varys's words were also clear: if Littlefinger dared to investigate, and Tywin sent the Mountain to deliver gifts, everyone would probably be unable to bear it. But if Littlefinger insisted, there was still King Robert above him. However, Varys reminded Littlefinger that the King was surrounded by Lannisters!

Beside the king, whether pouring wine, sharing his bed, guarding the door, or leading his horse on outings, all were Lannisters.

Littlefinger watched Varys slowly walk towards the door of the throne room, and he laughed. "My lord, why are you telling me all this?"

Varys stopped and slowly turned around. "My lord, there are some things you can ignore, not ask about, and not do, but you can't be unclear about them in your heart. You and I are important officials in the same court. I know some things, but I have never dared to hide them from you, my lord. I hope you can be so frank with me too." Varys glanced again between his legs, where it was empty, with no hard currency. "My lord, don't laugh at me for being a eunuch anymore. Your words make me feel ashamed, and I am very sad."

Littlefinger was speechless, and finally forced a dry laugh. "Yes, my lord, I was wrong."

Varys smiled slightly, folded his hands, and left.

The two old foxes hurt each other, their verbal sparring was like a duel between swordsmen. In the clash of blades, Varys was superior, forcing Littlefinger to apologize and making Littlefinger fear him.

The intelligence system of the Spider was something that Littlefinger could not contend with. Varys showed a little of his power, warning Littlefinger, who was 'staring at the Iron Throne and saying it should be covered with a fur rug'.

At the same time, the Mountain, running on the Gold Road, did not consider the 'battle of wits' in the King's Landing throne room at all. He knew that he couldn't hide these things from the Spider of King's Landing, the traces were too obvious. But he had also 'insinuated' his plans to Tywin beforehand.

He was the best killing sword, Tywin needed this sword, and he also needed Tywin to 'take the blame' for him temporarily.

A 'King's Landing kidnapping case' by the Mountain that could not be concealed from the eyes of the royal Small Council was thus easily resolved by two extremely intelligent people who found the question themselves and answered it with ease.

They just didn't know that the absolutely correct answer that Varys had come to after careful consideration was, this time, a mistake.