Littlefinger

Background
Shall I tell you a secret? I have many. Yes, I did do it. No, I didn’t do it. Yes, I know how to do it. Yes, they are coming.

I am of the Feywild. I am a pure gnome. Not of those from the fake, mortal realm of men but from the beautiful, exotic and deadly realm of the true Fey.

I am a voice. And my voice is my life. It gave me a life. When I had need of coin I sang in the lowliest of dens, and made my coin. When I had need of pleasure I sang to the most beautiful of women, and I had my pleasure. When captured and in need of survival, I sang of the heroic victories of the warlord even as he smashed and enslaved my kin, and I survived.

Oh I sang. I sang a pretty song for a pretty lady. She wanted me in her bed. Yes, I did it. But she was not royalty. She was no lord’s wife. She was no king’s daughter. She was the daughter of a farmer in a northern warren. I needed a dry place out of the rain. Their barn was warm and it smelled of earth. Yes, I did it.

I sang everywhere. It did not go unnoticed. Soon I was singing for the Kings and Queens of every realm of the Feywild. Eventually I sang for private audiences. A sweet melody in the bedchambers whilst a royal marriage was consummated. A woeful ballad in the yard while the rope tightened in what passed as punishment. A lively tune in parks during a harvest festival. And a sorrowful tale in holy places to mourn a loved one.

I sang for her. She was beautiful. A gnomish beauty that came only from pure sadness. She was a princess. Recent wed. Her prince was away. Fighting the dark ones in the Feydark while her belly swelled with his son. He left before she could tell him. Before she herself even knew. She said my voice brought her solace. A moments respite from her sorrow. So I sang for her.

I was always careful. Give no reason to suspect. Do not linger long in her chambers. Make sure handmaids were present. Never stay through the night.

Until the night she received his shield. I could not leave her. I sang songs of his valor. His love. His faith. His family. His son to be. I sang for her until she had no more tears to cry and my voice was gone. I held her while she slept. Caressed her hand. Fell asleep beside her. No, I didn’t do it.

That’s how he found us. The king. The father of the dead prince. There were no words. No trials. No pleading. Just an accusation. A cell. And a headsman’s axe on the morrow. No, I didn’t do it.

She begged. She pleaded with him. He would not hear it. I was guilty. She was guilty. There was no changing his mind. He was in mourning as well. He'd lost a son. He needed someone to blame. Someone to hate. Who better than a useless bard.

She freed me. She risked all for me. We made our way to a Feyline. She begged for one last song. A song of woe. Of sorrow. Of longing. It was at that moment, in that moonlit grove that I learned the secret the Eladrin and the Fomorians had been hunting for a lifetime. Yes, I know how to do it. I left her there beneath a full moon and weeping tree. The king chased me. Thanks to my new knowledge I was always one step ahead. They could never catch me. I was on the run for a made up crime. So I continued to run. From Feyline to Feyline. I ran. Yes, I know how to do it.

He finally found me. Not the king. It was the prince. He was not dead. Only captured and now returned to his warren. By this time the rumor had spread. That the child she carried and delivered was born of adultery. The prince couldn't abide it. He had the child put to the sword. His own child. His wife grieved. She slept. She did not want to wake up. So she didn't.

We fought amidst a Feyline. It was there I made the worst of mistakes. In my efforts to stay alive I accidently revealed my secret. That I could use Feylines as portals. I could jump from Line to Line. As I ported to the mortal realm of men I heard him swear vengeance. That he would tell them all. I can hide from a grieving king. I can elude a vengeful husband. But against an entire race of Eladrin and Fomorians, thirsty for a for a power they have yearned for since the dawn of time, I'm doomed. Yes, they are coming.