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The Braavosi Job

Summary:

Hitter...Hacker...Grifter...Thief...Mastermind.
Led by a struggling alcoholic and former fraud investigator, Tyrion Lannister, a team of five of the best criminals in Westeros use their powers for good to help the powerless. Modern-day Robin Hoods with a splash of con-y, heist-y fun.

A re-imagining of the TV show Leverage featuring our favorite characters from Westeros. Adapted from the first Leverage episode, titled The Nigerian Job.

Notes:

So...I'm finally doing this!

I, like many of you, fell in love with Gendrya and Sansan years ago, but really fell into the rabbit hole of AO3 when I followed a link from Tumblr to a Gendrya fic in December 2019 (Friday, I'm In Love by Starrynightshade, if you're curious). Over the course of the months following, I became borderline obsessed. I accidentally read a Sansan fic one day, immediately falling down THAT rabbit hole as well. All of this is to say that I've read some incredible works in the last eight months, and I have been deeply inspired. I itched to get back into writing, which I hadn't really done since high school.

Around June, I found out that Leverage was available for free through Amazon. I'd loved it when it first aired, but this time, I couldn't get the image as Sandor as Elliot out of my head. It felt like I was hit in the face with inspiration. The team really lends itself to the GOT AU treatment (especially the characters of Elliot, Parker, and Nate). I searched for one on here, but couldn't find one, so...here I am.

I borrowed heavily from the script used in the Nigerian Job partially because I am terrified of dialogue but also because all the characters fit their roles so seamlessly. See end notes for why I chose which character for which role as they're being unveiled. Sansa takes a while to appear, but I PROMISE she's coming, and she plays a huge role.

I was inspired by DracoimreH to use text from my chapter as the chapter titles. If you haven't read any of their works and you're in the Sansan club, go ahead and do that now? What have you been doing with your life? The first chapter of Sansa and the Beast is "Wow. That's...really fucking rude." and I'm STILL laughing about it.

Like any good History major, I give credit (though, sadly, not in Chicago format): None of these characters are mine. All credit to GRRM and Dean Devlin, John Rogers & Chris Downey.

Chapter 1: "I Want You To Steal Them Back"

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Devyn sighed as he put down the phone.  Two more hours of this shit, then he could go home and pretend he doesn’t have to come back every other day.  His life was just a series of drunken patrons after the next. Most were sad sacks whose lives had clearly gone off the rails. Occasionally, he’d have to serve a bunch of drunk bachelorettes.  He didn’t know which was worse.

 “I checked. Airport shuttle’s in 15 minutes,” the gruff bartender muttered to the short man deeply in his cups. Devyn set down the third…no the fourth glass of Cabernet (which was admittedly quite impressive given the man’s stature) in front of the man and turned to help the patron on the other side of the bar. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the drunken dwarf pouring whiskey out of a tiny bottle, the kind you pay forty crowns for in a minibar, into his cup.  Technically, that was frowned upon, but Devyn literally could not be paid enough to care past being absolutely disgusted by that combination. 

 

***TYRION LANNISTER, EX-EMPLOYEE OF LANNISTER CORP.***

 

The drunken dwarf, Tyrion, was interrupted in his actions by a soft voice clearing his throat. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Lannister, sorry, I know who you are. I’ve, uh, excuse me. I—I am Petyr Baelish.  I’ve read all about you.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes as he took a deep swig of his red wine/whiskey concoction (the aim was not flavor, but drunkenness, oblivion), annoyed at the interruption. He turned to see who was approaching him at the bar.  A well-dressed man, shorter than average but taller than himself, was approaching, sitting directly next to Tyrion.  He had grey hair and a goatee, and his cold, greyish-green eyes were bouncing around, never staying still for long.  He was carrying, on his shoulder, a heavy-looking, but designer, messenger bag, and in his hand was a mojito he’d ordered upon entering the bar. The smell of mint and rum flooded Tyrion’s senses.  On his lapel was a mockingbird pin the size of a thimble. Tyrion froze, staring at him in disbelief and annoyance. The intruder, Petyr, continued to speak, stuttering gently, possibly out of intimidation, which caused Tyrion to actually snort a bit.  ‘ Someone actually intimidated by me?’ 

Petyr continued, oblivious to Tyrion’s inner monologue. “I know for example that-that when you found that stolen Monet painting in Dorne, you probably saved your family’s company what…20-25 million crowns?  Then there was that identity theft thing and you saved your family’s company… I don’t even know how many millions of crowns, but I just know that when you needed them… What happened to your wife is the kind of thing--

Rage poured through Tyrion, as he slammed his glass down and held up the large empty charger plate that was situated next to him.

“You know that part of the conversation where I bludgeon you nine or ten times? We’re coming up on that pretty quick!”

Petyr blanched, visibly shaken.  “I just…I just want to offer you a job.”

“What do you have for me then?” Tyrion asked, mildly intrigued but mostly to indulge the man.  He was absolutely not going to take a job from this man.  He was going to finish his whiskey, then board his plane, on which he was going to drink three-no four more, and then collapse into a passed-out mess so he could once more forget his heartbreak.  Nothing was going to come between him and that eventuality. But Tyrion’s curiosity was screaming from the recesses of his mind. It wouldn’t hurt to hear this guy out. This especially considering he hadn’t been employed at Lannister Corp. for over a year. While he was employed there, he did all kinds of dirty work, but mainly focused on his talents as the best investigator in the business.  It was his job to think like the criminals and find sneaky ways to manipulate the system, and then to catch them, thus saving his family millions.  He couldn’t work for them, though. Not anymore.  Not for a year now. While he’d kept himself going on savings and by doing contract work here and there, right now, all he wanted was to drink, not to work for some sniveling, blubbering, mess. 

Tyrion shrugged, indicating to Petyr to continue. 

Petyr looked him in the eyes, for possibly the first time, and asked, gently, “Do you know anything about airplane design?”

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “I could give it a shot, you know, you give me a pencil and one of those little rulers. But I will warn you, I was never much good at drawing. That was my brother’s thing.” Tyrion knew he was being facetious but couldn’t be bothered to care.  This hopeless prick interrupted his alone time.

Baelish squared up. “Somebody stole my airplane designs.”

Tyrion knew where this was going.  He’d tracked down hundreds, if not thousands of properties for his family.  This would be no different.  How boring.  “Oh, I see and you’d like me to find them right?”

Petyr looked from side to side, as if surveying the bar to make sure there were no threats.  ‘ He looks like a bird, afraid of its surroundings. Maybe that’s why he’s got that pin,’ Tyrion thought to himself. 

Petyr looked him in the eye and said something that genuinely shocked Tyrion. 

“No. I know where they are. I want you to steal them back.”

Taken aback, and now intrigued, Tyrion got up from his chair at the bar, and walked slowly towards a more private leather booth in the corner, motioning towards Petyr to follow him.  Once both were situated across from one another in the burgundy leather booth, Tyrion began to ask questions, the creaky gears in his head groaning to life.  

 

 

An hour, one missed flight, and approximately three glasses of wine later, the men were deep in discussion. 

“...And you’re sure Tarth stole your designs?”

Petyr shook his head at Tyrion’s words, almost as if he was fed up with this conversation.  “Look, my engineer goes missing, he disappears with all my files and then one week later Tarth announces an identical project. Come on.”

Tyrion shook his head. “I don’t know. Stealing them back, it seems like a stupid risk, there are other ways…” he suggested, taking a deep swig of his wine. 

Petyr was almost shaking at this point, verging on aggression, Tyrion noted.  ' Helpless and out of control.'   

“Listen. Listen to me. At the end of this month I have a shareholder’s meeting, Mr. Lannister. I’ve spent, already, five years, 100 million crowns on R&D. If I go to that meeting with nothing to show for it? Then I am dead.”

Petyr turned to his side and opened the flap on his leather messenger bag.  He searched for a moment and then pulled out a navy blue folder, hands shaking almost imperceptibly as he handed it to Tyrion. “I’m serious. Look, look at the people I’ve already hired. Do you recognize any of these names?”

Tyrion quickly perused the file. “Uh, yeah. He,” motioning to one of the pictures, “worked for my family for a bit, but that was years ago...Yeah, I’ve chased all of them at one time or anoth--” Tyrion’s entire body froze and his voice flattened out of disbelief and maybe a tiny bit of fear.  “Arya? You have Arya?”

Baelish looked up from his mojito, confused. “There’s no one better, that’s what I’ve heard. Were my sources wrong?”

Tyrion sighed deeply, exhausted.  “No, but Arya is insane. She’s been known to get..well…stabby,” Tyrion says, making a slight stabbing motion with his chubby hands. 

Petyr took as big a sip of his mojito as he could without grimacing, seemingly for courage. “Which is why I need you.”

Tyrion laughed.

“No, I’m not a criminal.  I don’t work with thieves.  I’m not a thief.” He closed the file and set it down gently on the table next to his wine glass.

Petyr simply smiled, took a sip of his drink, and made eye contact over his glass.  “Thieves I got. What I need is one honest man to watch them. Now. Tell me.  Are you in?”

Tyrion looked back down at the closed folder, closing his eyes briefly. “It’s not going to work.  These people you hired--they all have the same rep. They work alone, they always work alone, there’s no exceptions and there’s no way they’re going to work for you. You’ve got one guy who stabs for a living, one who stabs for fun, and one the other two are going to want to stab immediately. It’s not going to happen.”

Petyr shook his head, with a knowing smile on his thin lips. “No, they will, they will. For 500,000 Crowns each, they will, and for you, for running it, it’s double that.

Tyrion listened as he reopened the folder, looking at each of the photos Petyr had supplied.  One classically handsome man with dark hair and ocean-blue eyes, scowling at the camera.  One tiny nightmare, eyes burning with instability and cunning.  One monster of a man with long hair and a burn scar covering half of his face, though Tyrion knew from experience, the amount of muscle not being captured by the camera.  The intel Peter had gotten was good. Useful.  And all three were at the top of their game.  But none had ever worked successfully as a team before.  Was it possible they’d do it for the money? 

Petyr continued, “And it’s off the books, completely off the books. Look at me, I’m desperate here. And that’s just the salary, there is a bonus. Tarth is insured by Lannister Corp--

Tyrion snapped his head up at that.  

“It’s a 50 million Crown intellectual property rights policy. Mr. Lannister, how badly do you want to screw your family for what they did to your wife?

Notes:

Tyrion as the alcoholic, troubled mastermind was just beyond obvious. I couldn't resist!

In the show, Nate is an alcoholic ex-insurance fraud investigator. The company he used to work for refused to pay for his son's cancer treatment, and he ended up dying tragically.

Petyr Baelish is just an innocent, small man from the Fingers....right?
(P.S. I felt very proud of myself for coming up with him drinking mojitos since he always smells of mint in the books.)