Littlefinger vs. Varys: Who Was the Better Player of the Game?

When you think about the masterminds of Game of Thrones, two figures immediately come to mind: Petyr Baelish, the scheming Lord of the Vale with his dagger and his ambitions, and Varys, the eunuch spymaster with his little birds and his mysterious agenda. Both men operated in the shadows, manipulating kings and queens, toppling houses, and reshaping the political landscape of Westeros. But here’s the thing that makes their comparison so fascinating—they weren’t just playing the game differently, they were playing entirely different games altogether. One was motivated by personal ambition and the thirst for power, while the other claimed to serve the realm itself. So who was actually better at the Game of Thrones? The answer is way more complicated than you might think, and honestly, it depends on what metrics you’re measuring.

Let’s start with Littlefinger, because his rise from nothing is genuinely one of the most impressive political climbs in the entire series. Petyr Baelish came from the Vale, from a minor house with barely a castle to its name, and through nothing but cunning and manipulation, he worked his way into positions of immense power. The guy became Master of Coin, one of the most important offices in the Seven Kingdoms, and managed to keep that position through multiple regime changes. Think about that for a second. He survived Robert Baratheon’s reign, he survived Joffrey’s, and he was working on surviving everyone else when his plans fell apart. His financial manipulations—secretly going into debt to finance wars, buying loyalty through clever fiscal policy—these were the moves of someone who understood that power flows through money just as much as it flows through swords.

What made Littlefinger truly dangerous was his willingness to get personally involved in his schemes. He orchestrated the death of Jon Arryn, manipulated Catelyn Stark through a lie about a dagger, set the entire Stark family against the Lannisters, and then positioned himself to take advantage of the chaos. He didn’t just predict that things would fall apart—he actively made them fall apart, then strategically positioned himself to benefit. The man married Lysa Arryn, took control of the Vale, and by the time of the later seasons, he was playing both sides of a war while sitting safely away from the action. His endgame was crystal clear: he wanted the Iron Throne, and he was willing to manipulate anyone to get there, including the people he claimed to care about.

But here’s where Littlefinger’s strategy had a fundamental weakness. His ambitions were always about him. Every move was calculated to increase his power, his wealth, his status. That kind of singular focus can be incredibly effective in the short term, but it also makes you vulnerable. You accumulate enemies. You rely on people staying predictable and staying loyal, but loyalty in the Game of Thrones is as sturdy as a castle made of sand. Littlefinger’s fall came partly because he underestimated the Stark children he’d been manipulating, because he assumed they would remain as naive and desperate as he’d made them. That assumption cost him everything.

Now let’s talk about Varys, because this is where things get really interesting. Varys operated on an entirely different scale. Where Littlefinger was always looking at the next piece of the board he could control, Varys appeared to be thinking about the whole game. His official job was as Master of Whisperers, meaning he had spies everywhere—his “little birds,” a network of children and informants scattered throughout the kingdom. Unlike Littlefinger, who relied on specific people and specific schemes, Varys had information. He knew secrets. He saw patterns. And crucially, his spymaster position meant he could justify having information about absolutely everything without it seeming suspicious. It was just his job.

What’s remarkable about Varys’s approach is how it operated on faith and institutional power rather than personal ambition in the traditional sense. He claimed—repeatedly—that he served the realm. He said he wanted stability, good governance, peace. Whether you believe that or not probably depends on how cynical you are feeling that particular day, but the point is that his publicly stated motivations were different from Littlefinger’s. While Littlefinger wanted the throne, Varys seemed willing to serve almost anyone if it meant achieving his vision of stability. He served Robert Baratheon, then Joffrey, then Daenerys. That’s flexibility, sure, but it’s also something else: it’s an ability to work within any system because his ambitions were about structures and outcomes, not personal glory.

Varys’s major plays in the game were subtler than Littlefinger’s. He didn’t orchestrate wars directly; instead, he operated through counsel, through information control, through making sure the right people knew the right things at the right times. He was involved in the planning of the Mad King’s assassination through Jaime Lannister, he supported various candidates for the throne, and he was constantly working—though the show and books sometimes differ on exactly what he was working toward. His big weakness, if we’re being honest, is that the show never quite let us understand what his endgame actually was. In the books, there are hints that Varys has been working toward bringing Daenerys to the throne from the beginning, that he’s been a piece on her side of the board all along. The show muddied this considerably.

So who was better? If we’re talking about pure effectiveness and results, Littlefinger has a stronger case in the early seasons. He achieves concrete, observable goals. He gets rich, he gains territory, he eliminates rivals. He’s tactical, aggressive, and direct—in his own covert way. You can see his moves, even if you don’t see them coming. That makes him satisfying to watch and relatively easy to evaluate. He tried to turn Sansa Stark into a puppet, and while it didn’t work long-term, it sure seemed like it was working for a while.

But if we’re talking about the bigger picture, about who understood the game at a higher level, the answer might be Varys. A truly brilliant strategist doesn’t just win individual battles; they win by understanding trends, predicting human behavior on a mass scale, and positioning themselves so that multiple outcomes work in their favor. Varys seemed to understand that the real game wasn’t just about who sat on the throne—it was about what kind of realm would survive, about which dynasty had the best chance of actually bringing stability rather than just trading one tyrant for another. Whether he achieved that goal is another question entirely, but the scale of his thinking was different.

The thing that ultimately separates them is that Littlefinger’s game was transparent in its selfishness. He wanted power, and he was honest about it with himself, even if he lied to everyone else. Varys’s game was allegedly about something bigger than himself, which made him either more noble or more dangerous depending on your perspective. And here’s the wild part: we still don’t entirely know if Varys was telling the truth about his motivations. Was he genuinely interested in the realm’s welfare, or was he just a really good liar? The show left that question hanging, which is kind of perfect for a character whose whole identity is wrapped up in secrets.

In the early seasons, Littlefinger was the better player—more directly effective, more clearly ambitious, more willing to take risks. But by the later seasons, as the game became increasingly chaotic and unpredictable, Varys’s information network and his apparent ability to work with almost anyone gave him an edge. Of course, Littlefinger got killed by Sansa Stark’s declaration, and Varys got burned alive by Daenerys for speaking inconvenient truths. Neither of them actually won the Game of Thrones, which probably tells you everything you need to know about playing the game while everyone around you is playing a different game altogether.

The real answer to who was better is that they were both brilliant in different ways, and both ultimately undone by circumstances they couldn’t fully control. Littlefinger was the better strategist for power acquisition; Varys was the better strategist for long-term influence. But in the actual game, where the rules kept changing and the players kept dying in unexpected ways, being brilliant wasn’t always enough.