The Iron Throne Council adjourned, and everyone left the throne room, except for Littlefinger Petyr, who remained seated.
Once everyone had left, Littlefinger slowly got up and walked slowly to the Iron Throne, looking up at the tall, menacing throne on the seventh-tier platform.
"What are you thinking about?" A soft, sweet voice asked with a hint of amusement.
The effeminate voice echoed faintly in the throne room.
The hall was very quiet.
Littlefinger slowly turned his head and looked at Varys, the eight-legged spider, who was slowly walking out from behind the large pillar in the hall.
Varys had his hands tucked into his large sleeves, his face was chubby and covered in powder, and his scalp was shaved clean and shiny.
"I was wondering why Lord Renly doesn't put a fur rug on the Iron Throne. Seeing him squirming around so uncomfortable makes me uncomfortable too." Littlefinger stood up straight, calm and composed.
Varys smiled; before he even got close to Littlefinger, the aroma wafted over.
Applying cosmetics was standard practice for Varys; he used every type of rouge and powder that noble ladies were entitled to, and all of them were of the highest quality. He was also a germaphobe.
"In the 298 years since the Iron Throne was established, there has never been a practice of covering it with animal hides," Varys said with a smile as he approached Littlefinger.
"Oh, really? Whether it's lion skin, wolf skin, shadow lynx skin, or deer skin, you'll be sure to sit comfortably on it. Oh, we can skip the deer skin, since the stag is the sigil of House Baratheon. Let's use leopard skin or shadow lynx skin, that way we won't offend anyone." Littlefinger grinned mischievously.
Varys chuckled: "When King Robert returns, you should suggest that he use a bear skin or a boar skin instead."
"Indeed!" Littlefinger exclaimed with a look of sudden realization. "The king loves hunting and has killed countless bears and wild boars. Bear or wild boar skins can not only make the king more comfortable, but also demonstrate his bravery."
"The Mormont family in the North are bears, and the Kreh family in the West are pigs. I wonder what these two families would think if the King's Iron Throne were covered with a bearskin or a pigskin," Varys said with a forced smile.
"They'll feel incredibly honored." Littlefinger's lips curled into his signature mischievous grin.
Varys stared at Littlefinger's lip: "My lord, does your lip look like it's been slapped?"
Littlefinger's smile vanished, replaced by a serious expression. "This new country prostitute doesn't know her place. I must teach her a lesson when we get back." He suddenly lowered his voice, "I wonder how you, sir, have managed to get through the long nights without ever being intimate with a woman all these years?"
Varys was castrated by a wizard when he was a child, becoming a eunuch. Littlefinger's mockery of Varys's physical defect was extremely malicious.
Varys himself was very averse to others bringing this up.
But Littlefinger did mention it anyway, right in front of Varys.
Varys shrugged, looked down at his crotch, and frowned. "The night was definitely unpleasant, but thankfully I didn't get my lip broken or my face swollen by some neurotic burly man. It's not too bad."
Little Finger's expression changed slightly.
"The Mountain from the Westerlands came to King's Landing to discuss the grade and quota of gold ore he's about to hand over to the Lord. It seems he has indeed given the Lord quite a bit of benefit." Varys looked at the faint scar on Littlefinger's lip that had almost healed. "My lord, I've heard that pricking the fingertip with a steel needle and then drawing blood with a glass bottle is usually a method used by wizards."
Little Finger's expression changed drastically.
He kept wondering why the Mountain would put his blood in a glass bottle; he couldn't figure out the Mountain's strange behavior.
"Your little bird saw everything that happened that night?" Littlefinger forced a smile. He smoothed the straight shoulder strap on his right shoulder and straightened his self-created family crest on his chest—a silver chimera.
"Although the Mountain and his party don't need waiters to pour their drinks, inns and taverns can't function without waiters," Varys chuckled.
"Oh, and what about the murder on Flea Nest Street?" Littlefinger looked at Varys meaningfully.
"Polliv killed the unlucky Yigo," Varys said casually. Killing a person was as easy for him as crushing a fly or stepping on an ant.
"I heard that Polliver also took Master Booz away in a carriage. I wonder if it's true?" Littlefinger probed again.
"My lord, is Casterly Rock in need of good blacksmiths?" Varys asked abruptly.
Littlefinger didn't understand why Varys suddenly said that. After thinking for a moment, he said, "No, I don't need it!"
"That's strange." Varys frowned.
If Casterly Rock lacked good blacksmiths, the Mountain would have ample reason to kidnap Master Tob Mort. Varys didn't believe the Mountain kidnapped the blacksmith for his own sake; it must have been for Casterly Rock's. The Mountain was just a boorish man; after a good meal, all he thought about was gambling or raping some attractive commoner.
"What's strange?"
"It's nothing. A good blacksmith is always better with one more." Varys found a barely plausible reason for himself.
"What good blacksmith?" Littlefinger asked casually, but his eyes betrayed a thoughtful look.
Varys changed the subject again, and Littlefinger noticed the abrupt shift in Varys's speech: "My lord, why would the Mountain take away an old man like Booz who was kicked out of the Mint? What does he need Booz for? Drinking or sleeping with him?"
"The Mountain doesn't need Booz," Littlefinger said. "He just needs women, alcohol, poppy milk, and killing and violence."
"Hmm, my lord, you've hit the nail on the head!" Varys smiled, raising his hand to gently pat Littlefinger's shoulder. "The Mountain's gift is not something many can afford, my lord. Let's go." Varys strode away. "The king is surrounded by Lannisters. I think you and I should worry less."
Littlefinger holds the reins of the nation's finances and the power to mint coins. If Tywin Lannister in the Westerlands were to capture Booz and try to do something with him, Littlefinger would be the one responsible for investigating the truth.
However, Varys's words were quite clear: if Littlefinger dared to investigate, and Tywin sent the Mountain with gifts, none of them could afford it. But if Littlefinger were to take it seriously, he still had King Robert above him. However, Varys reminded Littlefinger that the king was surrounded by Lannisters!
The king's entourage, from those who poured his wine and slept with him, to those who stood guard at the door and led his horse, were all Lannisters.
Littlefinger watched Varys slowly walk towards the doors of the throne room and smiled, "My lord, why are you telling me all this?"
Varys stopped and slowly turned around. "My lord," he said, "there are some things you can ignore, don't ask about, and don't do, but you can't be completely unaware of them. We are both high-ranking officials in the same court. I know some things, but I've never dared to hide them from you. I hope you can be just as frank with me." Varys glanced between his legs; it was empty, without any "hard currency." "My lord," he continued, "please don't laugh at me for being a eunuch anymore. Your words have humiliated me, and I'm very sad."
Little Finger was speechless, and finally chuckled dryly, "Yes, sir, I was wrong."
Varys smiled slightly, clasped his hands together, and left.
The two old foxes hurt each other, their verbal sparring rivaling a sword duel. Amidst the flashing blades, Varys proved superior, forcing Littlefinger to apologize and instilling fear in him.
Varys' intelligence network was far beyond Littlefinger's capabilities. He gave Littlefinger a brief demonstration of his power, a warning to him who was staring at the Iron Throne and saying it should be covered with animal hides.
Meanwhile, the Mountain, running along the Golden Road, paid no heed to the 'battle of the raccoons' in King's Landing's throne room. He knew he couldn't hide these actions from the Spider King of King's Landing; the traces were too obvious. But he had subtly sought permission from Tywin beforehand.
He is the best killing sword. Tywin needs this sword, and he also needs Tywin to temporarily take the blame for him.
The Mountain's kidnapping from King's Landing, a case that could not possibly escape the notice of the Royal Council, was solved by two exceptionally intelligent individuals who found the problem themselves and provided the answer with ease.
What they didn't know was that the absolutely correct answer that Varys had come up with after careful consideration turned out to be wrong this time.