As she walked through the brothel, she made my way to a small table, all eyes turning to look at her. The patrons and the whores could tell that whoever she was she was most definitely not from Kings Landing, and probably not even from the Seven Kingdoms.

"May I help ya milady?" A young woman asked hesitantly, as she came closer to the pale creature that was scrutinising every man and woman present.

"Wine. And don't try and palm me off with any of the cheap stuff, I want Petyr's stock, I know that he keeps some for his best customers." The woman told the girl, who nodded nervous before scurrying off.

"Well hello beautiful." A large man slurred, as he staggered over, spilling the ale from his glass all over the floor.

"And how much would ya be charging, whatever it is, I bet ya worth it." The drunk man chuckled, as he leant onto the table at which she sat, the scent of the stale alcohol on his breath filling her senses.

Suddenly her hand gripped his tightly, the colour and life draining from his face as she dug her fingernails into his flesh.

"I am not meant to take you yet Weslar Trinner; but if you insist on this course of action, I assure you that I will take great delight in delivering your soul to the Lord of the Seven Hells right now." The woman hissed at him, the man's eyes growing wide as the beautiful woman's face changed to an equally beautiful, yet terrifying visage, her yellow soulless eyes more chilling than anything he had ever seen.

"What tha fuck are ya?" The man asked, stumbling backwards as the creature let go of his hand.

"(Y/N)!" A smooth familiarly accented voice called out, as the patrons of the brothel turned their attention to look at the lord.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Petyr asked, trying not to sound shocked or surprised at the woman's presence or how she looked. He had never seen the dreaded creature in a human form, and was finding it difficult to think of a time when he had ever seen anything else as stunningly exquisite as the woman that sat before him.

The last time he had seen her was in her own kingdom, in her own breathtaking form; a horned and tailed demon, the consort of the Lord of the Seven Hells and lady of the Forest of the Dead.

Petyr had once travelled to her domain, seeking her counsel. The lady (Y/n) was known for her great knowledge and intellect, as well as her ability to see what others could not. He could remember the smell of death, and the dead bodies that hung like fruit from the towering gnarled dead trees; he wasn't normally one that was easily scared, but as he wadded through the black waters of the grim swamp to the ominous castle that loomed out of the bleak surroundings, he found himself trembling.

As he gently placed his hand on the enormous doors of the great keep, he looked up, the hideous gargoyles snarling and biting at the thin cold air as they looked down at him from their lofty perches.

Before he could knock, the great ingress began to slowly open, Petyr's eyes widening as he saw that no one was there. As he nervously walked through the fort, he wondered how anything that was so dark and menacing could in turn be so beautiful; there was something about the interior that screamed of royalty, something that told him that only one of great importance could be found here, and despite the fear that was gripping him, his curiosity was pushing him on.

As he made it to the great hall, he looked in shock and disbelief at the creature that sat at its centre; there sat atop a great grim throne, surrounded by the souls of those whose bodies hung from the trees in her forest, was a woman, but a woman like nothing he had ever seen before, more exquisite than anything he had ever witnessed. She was taller than any mortal he had seen, and her skin was a deep blue, with flowing black hair and a pair of long horns and a tail which grew elegantly from her body, a crown of fire sitting between her great antlers, and a pair of bright yellow eyes that seemed to burn into his psyche.

"Why are you here?" The Queen called out as her eyes fell on Petyr who was slowly making his way further into the room.

"I am here to beg your counsel my lady." Petyr said nervously, despite the air of confidence that he was trying to convey.

"I am........" Petyr began, before the lady curtly interrupted.

"I know who you are, fool; you are Petyr Baelish, Master of Coin to the man that calls himself King of the Iron Throne, as well as a whoremonger, and a snake. Any man that comes here seeks my counsel, there is no other need for anyone to enter my kingdom; what I asked, mortal, is why you are here for my counsel?" The Lady of the Seven Hells asked, scowling at Petyr.

Nervously Petyr asked his questions, watching as the Lady listened intently to every word he said, her eyes never leaving him as he tried to hold himself straight under her fiery stare.

Slowly the Lady rose from her throne, the spirits of the dead scurrying away as their mistress strode towards Petyr.

"I will answer your questions, but what do you offer me in return? There is always a price to pay for my services." The Lady said, as she stood next to Petyr, her form towering over his as she leant down to look at his features.

"What is it you want?" Petyr asked hesitantly, as the Lady took his chin in the palm of her hand.

"To begin with, I will take you; your body now belongs to me to do with as I wish, and when I see fit, I will also take your soul. Until then, I will take all the souls that you can give me. I know that you are not averse to killing, Petyr, so from now on it is your job to satisfy my needs by any means you see fit; but I warn you Petyr, if at any time you wish to stop paying my price, then you will find your body hanging and rotting on one the dead black weirwood trees outside." The Lady told Petyr, his eyes widening at the thought of the price.

"Well? Do we have a bargain?" The Lady asked, grinning a sly grin as she looked into his eyes.

Despite his reservations, what the Lady could offer him could make him more powerful than his enemies and would enable him to take a bigger role in the great game. He had to admit that even though her appearance chilled him to the core, her dark beauty was also proving to do other things to his body, and the possibilities of what him might experience were endless. "It will be my pleasure, my lady." Petyr said, smiling his own wicked smile as the lady led him away to do with him as she wanted.

"Ah Petyr, how nice to see you again, it has been sometime." The Lady mussed, as the young woman placed a glass of excellent Dornish wine in front of her.

Petyr had been paying the ladies price, but recently he had begun to renege on their agreement, and he presumed that this was the only reason that the Lady of the Seven Hell's would possibly have ventured from her domain and taken this guise. He had gotten so used to the lady's favour that he had begun to believe that she would not harm him; but as she glared at him, her eyes glowing brightly, Petyr had begun to feel himself shake as he felt the noose and the dead, black weirwood tree call his name.

"I believe that you and I have something to discuss, and I think that it would be better if we did it in private, Petyr." The lady hissed, taking the glass of wine, and downing its liquid contents.

Petyr strode confidently to his rooms, not wishing to lose face in front of either his patrons or his whores, the lady following behind him, and banging the door shut behind them as they entered the room.

Turning around, Petyr's eyes grew wide as the lady was no longer in a human form, but the demonic creature that he knew so well. As quick as lightning, the Master of coin found himself hoisted into the air, her hand around his throat the only thing that prevented him from falling to the ground.

"Did you really think that because I show you affection that you could stop paying for my knowledge? I have given you more than I should, Petyr Baelish, and now I have come to take my final payment, you hanging from a tree, your soul forever my slave." She growled, as Petyr desperately tried to draw breath.

"(Y/n) please." Petyr beseeched. "I am more use to you alive than dead." He told her, his fingers clawing at the blue hand around his throat.

"What? You think that I could not find another mortal lover? Are you really conceited enough to believe that you are that good that I could not find better? You are not the first man that I have given my favour to, and you most certainly won't be the last!" (Y/n) mocked, throwing Petyr across the room, his body hitting the wall and falling to the floor in a crumpled heap.

"I will do whatever you wish (Y/n), just let me prove that I am worthy of you allowing me to live." Petyr said hoarsely, rubbing his throat, as he watched her turn back into her human form and take a seat at his desk.

"I have no intention of making another deal with you, Baelish, but strangely I am now feeling in a good mood; so, I will allow you to give me one good reason as to why I should not have you hanging in my woods, and if it is good enough, I may, just may let you live." (Y/n) told him, watching as the snake rose to his feet and straighten his attire.

"If you continue to allow me to play the great game, I will make sure that you have some of the greatest souls in the Seven Kingdoms as your slaves; and my lady, I will continue to show you why I should be your lover." Petyr hummed, as he stood behind (Y/n) and placed his hands on her shoulders, his lips brushing against her neck.

"You are a manipulative bastard, Petyr Baelish, and even though your evil little machinations do not work on me, I do have to appreciate that I have rarely seen such wicked schemes come from another mortal. I will give you one more chance to prove your worth, but if you fail me again, I will more than happily make you the next hanging ornament in my garden. Now, I think that you should take me to somewhere more suitable and show me why I should keep you as my lover." (Y/n) moaned, as Petyr bit down onto her neck.

Taking the Lady of the Seven Hells to his bed, he knew that next time he failed her, he would not be so lucky.