Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Betad by Mike God of Lore, Marethyu, Priapus, Beans
The Unbound
Chapter 04: Late Night Chats
– Orys Baratheon –
My wedding celebrations have rapidly grown out of control. Littlefinger was right to think that Grandfather would fund the tournament himself to counter the Tyrells' display of wealth, and it has rapidly become a game of one-upmanship.
The bigger the wedding becomes, the bigger the tournament becomes to counter it. The two richest families in the Seven Kingdoms are tossing a mountain of gold into this farce. Grandfather, despite his wealth, dislikes wasteful displays like this. That alone tells me how much he doesn't want the Tyrells making their statement with this overly grand wedding.
I've inherited his distaste for such lavish affairs, and the plans for my wedding have me considering running into the wilds to live off the land. It has rapidly grown out of control as the Queen of Thorns and a Grizzly Old Lion battle it out, playing tug of war with the Kingdom. More the shame for me, I'm the rope that they're pulling on.
The Tyrells are due any day now, but it feels like everyone who's anyone will be arriving for this absurd wedding. Of course, Joffrey is already seething at me being the centre of attention of the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms. Sansa has taken to her 'mission' better than I thought, and as the attention has been pulled away from Joffrey, she continues to be by his side and lavish him with the recognition he craves.
He's still locked in his room, only let out for daily walks, which he takes with Sansa. He tried to sneak away once, but his Hound dragged him back by the scruff of the neck and locked him in again. Father was predictably furious, and Mother was disappointed that Joffrey was making things worse for himself.
With Joffrey locked away, Sansa has been spending her time with Myrcella, and she's come to 'report' to me several times. So far, Joffrey is just complaining constantly about the unfairness of it all, but he doesn't have any plans to do anything about it. Reckless as he is, he does understand that he's one fuck up away from being in far deeper shit.
A knock at my door makes me call for them to enter, focusing on my work with a frown.
"You know, you really do look like your Grandfather sometimes," Mother says, a small smile on her lips as she examines my desk and the mountain of paperwork that I have piled up. "Financial reports?"
"When Father took the throne, the treasury was full to the brim. Now we're millions in debt. I know Father enjoys his tournaments, but it would take spending at an unprecedented scale to spend this much so fast," I admit, rubbing my eyes. Despite it being my wedding, my input was not required or particularly wanted, so I had to find something to keep me occupied.
"You don't trust our Master of Coin?" Mother asks, leaning against my desk as I snort.
"What Coin?" I ask, getting a grim laugh from her. "People keep telling me that Baelish is a financial genius, that the crown has never earned more, but that just raises more questions. If we are earning so much, why are we in so much debt? If nothing else, I want to learn what Father is doing, so I know what not to do when I am King."
"And what have you found?" Mother asks, looking over the mountain of parchment on my desk.
"Not enough to prove anything. Some discrepancies, such as salaries still being paid to men who haven't worked for the crown in years, payments that seem to vanish off the face of the known world. Our financial records are unnaturally complex and opaque. Grandfather would be disgusted at how complicated Littlefinger's reporting system seems," I admit. I am almost sure that Littlefinger has made his system this complicated on purpose.
"Do you think Baelish is stealing from the Crown?" Mother asks after a long moment, making me scowl.
"I don't know. As I said, I haven't found enough to prove anything. He has increased our income sevenfold since the days of the Mad King, but for every Gold Dragon that comes into the treasury, three more leave," I admit. As much as I respect Grandfather, I'm hesitant to have him take Baelish's place because Father doesn't want the Lannisters getting that much power, and he isn't wrong to be cautious about one family gaining so much influence. "I won't have him removed from his position or imprisoned for crimes I only suspect. That is the road that leads to me meeting the same end as the Mad King."
"He's bound to have noticed your interest in the Kingdom's finances," Mother points out, making me nod.
"Luckily, I was fostered by Tywin Lannister. It's expected. I did the accounts for Casterly Rock in the last year of my fostering," I explain, making her eyes widen. "Well, I did them first, then Grandfather double and triple-checked my work. He rarely had to fix anything."
"You really have grown up well, Orys," Mother says with a soft smile, placing a hand on my arm. "I keep trying to ignore it, especially as I got to see so little of your growth with you stashed away in Casterly Rock, but you've become a fine young man."
"I had to. I have seven kingdoms to run in the not-so-distant future. Father may have been happy to leave matters to the Small Council, but I'm not like him in that regard," I say, running a hand through my hair. "The least I can do is try and improve the situation that I'll be inheriting. Any work I do now will only make my future rule all the more peaceful."
Mother smiles at that, pride clear in her expression.
"As I said, you've grown up well. I shouldn't be surprised. Father never was one to tolerate immaturity," Mother admits. "And now you're soon to be married in what might just be the grandest wedding in the history of Westeros. You aren't interested in planning your own wedding?"
"Every piece of advice I would have had would be ignored, as I'd just want to scale it back down. This wedding has rapidly grown out of control," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "It's gone from extravagant to outright exorbitant. Lady Olenna and Grandfather refuse to let the other win, and it's getting ridiculous."
"True. Father despises unnecessary expenditures, but he hates people trying to weaken his power even more. Olenna paid off a lot of the debts the kingdom had to get you married to her Granddaughter, and that made us less reliant on Father's wallet," Mother agrees wryly. "I never did get the chance to ask you, but what do you think of your betrothal?"
"It's a good match. I've never met Margaery, but I've heard good things about her beauty and personality. She's beloved in the Reach. I'd have preferred to meet her before we were bound together, but unless the public facade is wildly different to the truth, she should be a good partner for me," I explain, tapping my quill against the desk for a moment.
I swear, even if Littlefinger isn't stealing, I might have him replaced with someone capable of taking legible records anyway.
"Either way, the Tyrells are a good match. The only other family that could be as beneficial to the Kingdom would be the Martells, but that was… unlikely, to say the least," I continue. The Dornish House is fiercely independent, and while a marriage to them could help bring Dorne closer to the Crown, they despise House Lannister.
"Hmm, true. Several Martells are attending the tournament, including Prince Oberyn. This really has grown entirely out of control," Mother admits, making me pause.
"Is Clegane attending?" I ask, making her nod.
"He is. If we get through this tournament with less than a dozen deaths, I'll consider it a wonderful success," Mother sighs.
Perfect. Oberyn Martell has made little effort to hide his hatred of Gregor Clegane, and Grandfather likes showing off his massive beast of a knight. He was actually considered to act as my Sworn Shield, but to be perfectly honest?
He scared me.
Oberyn is known for his skill in battle. He'll take part in the tournament… which means he'll use it to try and go after the Mountain that Rides. This is why I wanted a more modest affair, less chance of a war starting over old grudges. If Oberyn manages to kill the Mountain, Grandfather won't let it go. If the Mountain kills Oberyn, a far more likely outcome, in my opinion, Dorne won't let it go. I just can't imagine the Mountain losing, but maybe I'm biased.
When I was younger, I saw the giant of a man cut a criminal in two in a single swing of his blade. It was the first time I saw a man die. The Mountain didn't even blink as the top half of some petty thief just… slid off and splattered onto the ground.
I'm still scared of the Mountain.
"I don't suppose I could convince Grandfather to send the Mountain on an extended mission to somewhere nice and remote, like Essos? Or maybe beyond the Wall?" I ask, making her laugh.
"Unlikely," Mother agrees as a comfortable lull falls over our conversation.
– Cersei Lannister –
Orys truly was the hardest worker in her family, and she included herself in that. Her father had done well fostering him, something she only begrudgingly admitted as she watched Orys go over the piles of documents and reports.
"The Tyrells are on their way to King's Landing. A little earlier than expected, but I think Olenna wants to make sure everything is happening exactly to her specifications," Cersei explained after a moment, making Orys pause before he nodded.
The Queen of Thorns was enjoying the influence that funding the entire wedding was giving her a little too much. Of course, this had rapidly become a dick-measuring contest between the Tyrells and the Lannisters. She could imagine the scowl on her father's face as he spent more and more to match Olenna's own expenditures. The Tyrells were the second richest family in the Seven Kingdoms, and Tywin wanted to make sure they remembered that they were in second place.
"It'll be good for Margaery and me to have a chance to meet before our wedding day," Orys agreed after a moment. "Grandfather is on his way as well, isn't he?"
"He is," Cersei agreed, already seeing where Orys was going with this. Tywin and Olenna in one place was not going to end well for anyone, especially with how competitive the pair were getting. As the future King, Orys was going to be caught between them as they worked to put themselves in a position to influence him. Tywin had the advantage, but Olenna's granddaughter was about to be Orys' bride.
Orys was right. She'd heard nothing but good about Margaery. She should be happy at the idea of Orys having such a beautiful, beloved woman as his queen, right?
'Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.'
Maggy's words echoed through her head, and a sliver of paranoia dug its way into her heart. If everything went as planned, Margaery would be the next queen.
She wanted to dismiss the prophecy as nonsense, having let it guide her for far too long, but what if it wasn't? What if this was the start of her losing everything? Yes, Maggy had mentioned that she'd have three children, but she still wasn't sure if Maggy's prophecy only spoke of her legitimate children.
If Joffrey wasn't included, then Maggy could still be right.
Maggy was right about Melara Hetherspoon dying soon after hearing her words. She was right that Cersei wouldn't wed the Prince but the King.
Maggy had claimed that Robert would have six and ten children, but she'd tracked his whoring well during their earlier years. He didn't have that many bastards, and he'd all but stopped his whoring now. It was part of why she'd been so open to his desires. Robert was a man led by his desires, and if she weren't taking care of them, her husband would find his pleasure in the arms of another. She'd even permitted some of his whoring, on the demand that he left no bastards behind. It was something he agreed to, easily even. She had just been glad for the break, in truth.
Robert really did try, for all his flaws.
Surely Robert wasn't going to have many more children? Orys, Myrcella and Tommen. Mya Stone in the Eyrie. Bella in Stoney Sept. Gendry here in King's Landing. She was sure they were his only bastards, all pre-dating their marriage. She'd even had Jon Arryn look into it for her, and he'd agreed that they were likely the only leftovers of Robert's indiscretions.
That made six. Six and ten. There was no way that Robert was going to leave behind ten more children, and maybe she'd missed one or two, but ten? He was getting old. His health wasn't the best. Sure, the man was virile, but it just defied logic that he'd leave behind that many more.
Did the ten mean something else? Six children and ten, ten what?
Stroking Orys' hair, she took amusement in him fidgeting under her fussing. He was more vain than he would ever admit. Maybe he got that from her.
"So, are you looking forward to meeting your beautiful betrothed?" Cersei asked, and maybe it was something in her tone that made him pause and give her a strange look. She wasn't going to lose him. She wasn't going to lose anything, no matter what it took.
"I am. Neither of us chose this arrangement, but I want to make it work. Just because it's my responsibility doesn't mean I can't come to enjoy it," Orys said after a moment of thought.
"Have you ever been with a woman before?" Cersei asked, making him blink, the slightest hint of colour on his cheeks.
"Do you think Grandfather's lessons left me time for such… liaisons?" Orys asked, making her snort. "Or time for anything, really?"
"No, I imagine not. Still, I'm surprised your Uncle never snuck you away to a brothel, it seems like something the Imp would find funny," Cersei continued.
"Tyrion did sneak me away, several times, but never to a brothel. I had no interest in my first time being with a whore," Orys admitted, making her roll her eyes. She was sure that Tyrion had gotten Orys into plenty of trouble.
"And you had no paramours in Casterly Rock?" Cersei asked. Surely, many of her father's minions had daughters who lusted for the power and influence that would come from courting the crown prince. The betrothal was more recent, so Orys had been an eligible bachelor for most of his fostering.
"Some were interested, but Grandfather made it clear that I didn't have time for such dalliances and kept a close eye on who I was mingling with. There was little time for such things," Orys confirmed. "I've kissed a girl, but never more than that. Well, one of Uncle Tyrion's… friends flashed her breasts at me and groped my backside once, but beyond that, nothing."
"Of course they did," Cersei sighed. Tyrion seemed to take pleasure in poking at their father, and sneaking his whores into Casterly Rock was entirely in character for him. She made a note to ruin one of Tyrion's parties when he was finished messing around at the Wall. "Do you regret that? Your entire life has been decided for you, and Father gave you little chance to actually act like a child or even an adolescent. Now your future has been decided for you as well."
"It comes with being a prince," Orys replied pragmatically. "Grandfather was demanding, but he was preparing me for the day the crown will come to me. I'd rather miss out on some youthful indiscretions and be prepared to be King than the other way around. It is no bad thing to have my wife also be my first lover."
"You could get some experience before the Tyrells arrive," Cersei suggested, making Orys pause. "If you wish, I could easily arrange for a… celebration and ensure that there are no consequences from any indiscretions. Your father fucked his way through the Seven Kingdoms both before and during his rebellion."
The idea of him and Margaery sharing their first times together, assuming Margaery was as noble as her son, was something out of a fairy tale. It… upset her.
"I'm not my father," Orys finally replied. "And it would be rather embarrassing to have my own mother arrange such a thing."
"Maybe, but you should know I'd do anything for you, Orys," Cersei admitted, stroking his hair. Orys froze for just a moment, and his gaze flickered down to her cleavage from the low-cut dress. She hadn't intended for it to sound suggestive, but given their conversation, she couldn't blame his momentary surprise. This wasn't the first time she'd caught his eyes wandering recently, both on her and on other women. She didn't comment on the way his gaze lingered on her breasts for just a moment as he met her gaze again. "I didn't want to admit my baby boy was all grown up, but you truly have become a man now, haven't you?"
And she'd missed it, with him locked away in Casterly Rock.
Orys was a mix between her two loves. She could see so much of Robert and Jaime in him, mixed to make something new, something unique… something beautiful.
There was a charged silence between them, a tension that had no place between a mother and her son. Orys said nothing, seemingly lost in thought. Maybe he wondered if his teenage mind was jumping to conclusions, hearing innuendo where she only meant innocence.
Her hand stroked his arm gently, slender fingers running along the bare skin. She could just barely see the growing tightness in his sleepwear. Again, she said nothing, the moment between them tense in a way that sinfully excited her.
"My beautiful baby boy, all grown up. Margaery is a lucky woman," Cersei continued.
"We're both lucky, from the rumours of her beauty," Orys said diplomatically, but Cersei just scoffed.
"You're the Crown Prince, handsome and intelligent. She's just some pretty Highgarden Rose. You could have any woman in the Seven Kingdoms and beyond. She is the lucky one, and never let her forget that," Cersei said, hints of anger slipping out. Younger and more beautiful. "You deserve more than having your entire life decided for you."
He deserved everything. She couldn't lose him, not to death or to some pretty flower from the Reach. Maggy said a younger and more beautiful queen would replace her. Maggy said she'd see her three children wear crowns and veils of gold as she buried them.
She wouldn't. Nothing, nothing, was taking Orys from her, not now that she had gotten him back.
"And when the crown is on my head, the rest of my life will be mine to decide. For now? I'm content. People may have made my decisions for me, but I don't think they've ever made a wrong one yet. Grandfather, Father, they do have my best interests in mind," Orys said with a sigh. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown. I need to be ready for that weight. Grandfather has prepared me. Margaery will help make the crown lighter."
"Maybe," Cersei agreed, "And so will I, in any way I can. In any way you desire. If there is ever anything I can do to lessen that weight or soothe the tension that comes with all the expectations, all the responsibilities, you need only ask."
Robert was content to leave the Kingdom to the Small Council while he feasted his way into an early grave. Orys was not that type of ruler, and she feared that his more involved ruling would make him no small number of enemies who preferred Robert's disinterest. If nothing else, he may work himself into the grave judging from the size of the pile of records he was accumulating.
If she could help him avoid such a fate, there was nothing she wouldn't do. Of course, she couldn't help but think that Orys' mind had wandered to another kind of tension as his eyes once again slid southward. Her arms moved subtly, pushing her breasts together somewhat to make her cleavage even deeper. He noticed, eyes widening slightly at her actions. She was sure he was going to recoil, but his eyes made a deliberately slow movement as they traced her body. She said nothing, and he didn't comment on the moment either.
"And I do appreciate it, believe me," Orys agreed, his tone a little unsteady. He sounded unsure, indecisive. A part of her was sure that he was convinced that this was some test, a trap he was unwilling to spring. It wasn't. He was a single word from having her, and she knew it. Her eyes flickered to his large bed, and she saw himself laid upon it as Orys showed her how much of a man he had become.
She couldn't bear his children, not now that she had Joffrey as evidence of the dangers of inbreeding, but she truly would do anything for him. His desk was big enough for someone to fit under it, to aid him as he worked on such monotonous records.
"Remember it, Orys, whenever things get hard. I will always be there for you," Cersei swore, stroking his hair again as she placed a lingering kiss on his forehead. "I love you, and I am proud of you. I haven't said either of them enough, but know that they are true from the bottom of my heart."
Her words hit home as she stepped away, and for just a moment, an offer clung to the tip of her tongue. For just a moment, she almost offered to keep him company as he worked. The moment passed as she silenced herself. Staying would lead to a test of her silver tongue, but it would not be her conversational skills that she used to entertain him. She wanted to make the offer, but countless reasons silenced her as she gave him one last smile.
"Good night, Orys. Do not work long into the night. It is unhealthy," Cersei lightly scolded, making him chuckle.
"Good night, Mother," Orys replied, not commenting on her suspicion that sleep was not in his immediate future. "And I love you, too. I always will."
The surety in his tone made her smile as she left his chambers, but Maggy's tainted words rattled around in her skull as she left. She couldn't lose him. She couldn't.
It wasn't long before she found herself in her own bed, sipping her wine as Robert returned from a night of joking and reminiscing with Ned. Ned's arrival to King's Landing had put Robert in a brighter mood than she'd seen him in for a long time.
"Do you remember what you suggested shortly after Joffrey was born?" Cersei finally asked, making her husband blink in confusion.
"Not in the slightest," Robert admitted with a laugh after a moment. "Was it a feast or a tournament?"
"You wanted to bring your bastard to King's Landing," Cersei reminded him, watching as he flinched back. He didn't meet her eyes, and she could detect a hint of shame on his face. "Mya, wasn't it?"
"Aye," Robert admitted, his tone cautious. "You… disagreed."
Enough to subtly threaten the girl's life. It was the only time that Robert had ever struck her.
"Do you still want to?" Cersei asked, and amusingly, he reminded her of Orys not an hour ago. The confusion, the suspicion that this was some test or trap that he was suddenly ensnared in.
"You made your opinion clear, Cersei," Robert finally said, making her nod after a moment.
"You have three bastards. Jon wasn't sure if you even knew of the other two," Cersei continued, watching him closely. His reaction confirmed what Jon said.
"Three?" Robert asked, his tone heavy as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "You kept track of them?"
"I had Jon do it, yes. There was always the chance someone could try to use them against us. Mya is a guide, taking travellers up the climb to the Eyrie. Bella is a whore, in the Stoney Sept. Gendry is a blacksmith here in King's Landing. As far as I know, none know who their father is," Cersei continued, seeing him slump down.
"One of my daughters is a whore?" Robert asked, shame clear in his tone. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Do you still want to bring Mya to King's Landing?" Cersei asked again, watching her husband carefully.
"Aye, I do. Of course I do," Robert admitted. "Jon told me not to send her gifts since it made it clear that I was her father."
"And the other two?" Cersei asked, making Robert hesitate.
"No daughter of mine should be selling her body to survive, damn it. Bella, she's a Baratheon, not some-" Robert started, trailing off. "Gendry, I don't know. Sounds like the lad's done alright for himself. I'd have to see him first. What's this about, Cersei? What are you up to?"
"Now that Orys is back with us, where he belongs, I have been thinking. Jon was right to worry that they could be used against us, and frankly, I don't trust Stark to do as good a job as Arryn," Cersei said, and as Robert went to defend his friend, she held out her hand. "It's not his loyalty that I doubt, Robert. It's his skill. He's a brilliant leader for the Northern lords, but surely you've seen how out of his depths he is here? He's a fish out of water, surrounded by hungry cats that see him as an easy meal."
Robert's defence died in his throat because he was not a foolish man. He knew that she was right. Stark had no idea what he was doing, and it showed. The kindest thing they could do for the wolf lord would be to fire him as the Hand and send him home, to claim that Ned was only a temporary fill while they found a suitable Hand. Ned might just thank them for it, frankly.
"So, what?" Robert asked, cautious and hesitant. He wasn't going to make any suggestions, eager to avoid the trap he was sure that he was moments from triggering.
"So, bring them to King's Landing. Mya is more or less openly rumoured to be your bastard, and Bella has your hair and eyes. It did not take Jon long to find her, the daughter of your favourite whore from the Peach," Cersei said, her tone pragmatic and cold. "Bella can work as a maid. It's a better life for Orys' older sister."
"Are you suggesting that I legitimise them?" Robert asked, truly off-guard.
"Not Gendry. I won't have any blacksmith's apprentice wondering if he should be King instead of Orys," Cersei said sternly, getting a grim nod from Robert. "But if that is still your desire, then yes. I'm suggesting you bring Mya and Bella to King's Landing."
"You said that Mya shamed you," Robert pointed out.
"Robert, the entire Kingdom knows of your whoring. You were far from subtle. I didn't want living, breathing proof of your youthful stupidity around while my children were growing up," Cersei pointed out. "And I still don't like the idea. Don't mistake my acceptance for eagerness. I'm willing to tolerate them, that is all."
Robert went to speak, but she once again held out a hand and interrupted him.
"Sleep on it, Robert. If you still want them brought here, we can use the chaos from this overly extravagant tournament to do so. Half the Seven Kingdoms are attending. Two more slipping in would not raise a single eyebrow," Cersei said, making him nod slowly.
"I- thank you, Cersei. Truly," Robert said with uncharacteristic seriousness, but she just gave him a nod and went back to her book.
As he joined her in bed, his usual lusts were tempered by his deep thoughts. It was almost a shame, as her own desires were burning. As she blew out the candle and ended her late-night reading, Cersei smiled secretly.
She wouldn't lose Orys, she wouldn't. This wasn't enough, but it was a step in the right direction, giving her two new pieces to use.
– Orys Baratheon –
My mother was trying to seduce me.
Mephala is the prince of many things, including sex. I could sense Cersei's lust, the desire. She didn't say a single thing she didn't mean with all her heart. I could sense something… wrong with her mind, a stormy cloud that darkens her every thought.
It has something to do with Margaery, but why? As far as I know, she's never met my future bride, but something about Margaery is pushing her to madness. Mephala whispered that I should accept, and bind Cersei up in my own web. That if I took my mother into my bed, I would never have a more devoted follower. She really would do anything for me, and her love could be so easily twisted into utter devotion.
If I gave her my love, she'd give me the world.
I'm glad she left when she did because if she didn't, I'm not sure what I would have done.
— Bonus Scene — Petyr Baelish
Orys was going to ruin everything.
Sitting in his office, he scowled to himself as he considered his options. To a prince raised by Tywin, the Kingdom being in such debt was not something he could tolerate, and the studious little shit was dredging up ancient records to find the source of the treasury's state.
In truth, he'd let Joffrey colour his image of Orys. His network didn't reach into Casterly Rock and he'd had little to work with until Orys returned. He'd expected another stupid, spoiled prince. Instead, he had a younger Tywin to deal with.
He had covered his tracks well. Orys would find some discrepancies in the records, but nothing treasonous. Nothing that would lead to his execution, at any rate. At worst, Orys would make him out to be incompetent, and he'd lose his position. That would be a considerable setback, but not the end of the world. He wouldn't be able to siphon the Kingdom's wealth anymore, but he feared whoever replaced him would discover more of his tricks.
Orys wasn't satisfied with his own records. The busybody had sent out ravens to many of those that the crown had done business with over the years, requesting their numbers, and that worried him.
What would Orys think if the numbers he got from those who had done business for the crown didn't match the crown's own financial records? In almost every project or business deal that Baelish had ever done, he'd put a higher number in the kingdom's ledger and kept the difference. It was where much of his money had come from, funding his brothels over the years.
There were also the loans. When Orys saw that the interest rates were not as high as reported, there was only one conclusion. If Orys told his parents, Petyr wouldn't be out of a job. He'd have his head on a spike on the wall.
You'd think the biggest wedding in recorded history would be distracting the little bastard, but he just kept digging and sooner or later, he was going to find what he was looking for. Orys had already discovered several 'positions' that were being paid out to, that didn't truly exist.
As of now, it looked like his recordkeeping was simply terrible. He'd made his records as complex as possible to throw off anyone who looked into them, and he could use them as an excuse to keep his head, but that excuse only went so far.
He needed a distraction.
He considered having Orys killed, but there were many issues with that. Not least of which was that Cersei knew what her son was doing and would likely have him tortured to death on the hunch that he might be even slightly involved. Even if all the evidence pointed one way, Cersei would likely have him killed anyway.
People were already on edge after Arryn's death, even if he'd pushed the suspicion onto the Lannisters. Ned was no investigator and had found nothing with his heavy-handed search, but his suspicions meant that even as he found nothing, he was just assuming that the Lannisters had hidden their involvement well.
Arryn had known too much. Like Orys, he had been starting to look into the finances a little too deeply, but it was another reason that he'd had to have Lysa kill her husband. Jon was beginning to realise that 'his' son did not resemble him and was digging into Lysa's indiscretions.
If Orys died, it would lead to a far more in-depth investigation that he was not sure he could survive. No, he needed something else.
Ned, incompetent as he was, had not found the breadcrumbs that he'd left to point him further to the Lannisters. So far, all they had was a letter from Lysa that could be passed off as the hysterics of a widow.
He needed a war, and the Starks were still his best bet at getting one. Their Northern barbarism and 'honour' made them far easier to control than any other House.