Disclaimer: I don't own the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who read the last chapter. I'd especially like to thank those who followed, favourited, or reviewed. As always, I hope that you all enjoy the chapter, and please feel free to review.

Chapter Nineteen: Departures and Death

For several weeks after Artys's wedding, all was quiet in the Eyrie. The guests had slowly trickled out, and although some, like Domeric Bolton, were still present, most of them were now gone. Despite herself, Alyssa was pleased that the Bolton heir had decided to stay. With Ysilla beginning to take up the duties of acting Lady of the Eyrie, which Alyssa had done for the last few years, she thought that she would have been quite bored otherwise. Domeric, to Alyssa's surprise and delight, was a natural on the harp. Alyssa also enjoyed playing, and the two enjoyed many hours of playing together. She knew that many servants, and nobles too, were beginning to take notice of the time she spent with him, but Domeric was her friend so she thought little of it.

One morning, Robert had asked Alyssa when he could start training as Artys and the other men did in the yard. Alyssa, knowing that Artys did not have the time to start his training and since the Master-at-arms was busy that morning, decided to find her friend for help on the matter.

Approaching Domeric's chambers, Alyssa knocked lightly on the door. After he called for her to enter, she did so, giving him a small smile as she stepped inside.

"Lady Alyssa, this is a pleasant surprise. Please, take a seat."

"Thank you, my lord," Alyssa replied, sitting down near the fire.

"Of course," He smiled, setting aside the book that he'd been reading. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well, it's a silly thing, really. My younger brother has decided that he wishes to train with a sword. Artys and the master-at-arms are busy, so I wondered if you would mind teaching him a thing or two, just for today?"

Domeric, to his credit, did not look annoyed by the request. She'd found that very little did seem to annoy him, it was one of the things she liked about him, actually.
"Well of course," He replied after several moments of thought. "I take it he has never held a sword before?"

"No, not ever," Alyssa admitted. "Lady Lysa wouldn't allow it, but Robert loves stories and he fancies himself as the next great knight." She laughed softly, and Domeric did too, his brown eyes kind.

"Well, you never know," He mused. "Lord Robert could be a knight, if he tries hard enough."

"Perhaps," Alyssa replied, although she was unsure. Despite how much healthier Robert seemed, his sickliness in the past still greatly worried her.

Domeric smiled once more and stood, holding out his arm to her. "Shall we, my lady?" He asked, and she nodded rising too and taking his offered arm.

"We shall, you have a future knight to train, after all. We wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

"That we wouldn't." He agreed, chuckling, and together they left the chamber to find her little brother.

Artys honestly enjoyed acting as Lord of the Eyrie while his lord father was away. He'd been doing it for a few years now, and he'd found that solving disputes and making decisions, while often difficult, was rewarding work as well. During his time here, he'd made the Vale's villages more defensible, and he'd pushed the mountain clans back so that they were far less of a threat to his subjects. He had also become well acquainted with his future bannermen, something that he was grateful for since he would, after all, be ruling them in truth some day.

Artys's thoughts were cut off by a knock on the door of his father's solar, where he did most of his work. He called for the person to enter, and when maester Colemon stepped in, Artys game him a short nod.

"Maester, what news?" Artys asked, curiously.

"A raven from Highgarden, my lord," Colemon informed him. "Addressed to you, and to the lady Alyssa."

Curious, Artys raised an eyebrow. "From Highgarden, you said? How unusual, would you get my sister then, maester? We will soon see what this is about."

"Of course, my lord," Colemon bowed, and left and Artys stared down at the letter, puzzled. Neither himself nor Alyssa knew the Tyrells particularly well, and he wasn't sure why, or even exactly who, was writing to them now.

Thankfully for his curiosity, Alyssa did not take too much time to arrive. When she did, she looked at the letter as curiously as Artys had.

"Have you opened it yet?" She asked, taking a seat beside him.

"No, I wanted to wait, it is addressed to both of us, after all."

"Thank you," She shot him a small smile. "Now, let's see what this is about, shall we?"

"Yes, let's see." He agreed, and he broke the seal, and together they read the letter.

To Artys and Alyssa Arryn

It is my pleasure to invite you both to my upcoming nameday celebrations. I am aware that we do not know each other, but I would very much like for that to change. We are the future of two great houses, and I would be pleased for the opportunity to become friends with both of you.

I very much hope that you will be able to attend. The celebrations are in two moons time, however should you wish to arrive earlier, you will have the hospitality of Highgarden for the duration of your stay.

Yours Sincerely,

Willas Tyrell, heir to Highgarden

"Well," Artys said as he finished reading. "That was certainly unexpected."

"Indeed," Alyssa replied. "And lord Willas wrote this personally. What game are they playing?"

"I am not certain," Artys murmured. "But that letter makes it difficult to ignore...but I can't go, Lys, Ysilla is still settling into her role, and..."

"I know," Alyssa replied, and gave him a reassuring smile. "It is all right, but you're correct, we cannot ignore this. I will go."

"What? Lys, you cannot go alone." Artys protested, frowning. "If the Royces were still here, I'd have Robar accompany you but..."
"Well, what about Domeric Bolton?" Alyssa asked, looking thoughtful. "You said it yourself, he is an honourable man, and besides there will likely be a tourney. Domeric could compete in it, mayhaps."

Artys frowned slightly. He'd noticed his sister's new friendship with Domeric Bolton, and although he liked the young lord, having his sister travel with him seemed unwise.

"We will have guards as well, brother," Alyssa told him, no doubt seeing his expression. "And Elyse too, of course. Besides, you need not look at me like that, Artys. Domeric is a friend that's all, you know that."

Artys sighed. "Very well," He said. "I will ask him to see that no harm comes to you on the road, then. When will you leave?"

"In two days." Alyssa replied. "The last thing I want to do is to be late, and I think arriving earlier would be best. That way, I can see exactly what Willas Tyrell is playing at."

"All right then," Artys sighed. He knew that Alyssa was right, they did need to see what was going on, but he wished that she wasn't going at all.

"Will Robert be all right?" Alyssa asked suddenly. Artys nodded, giving his twin a small smile.

"He will be," He told her. "Now go, and pack. I will organise your escort, and speak with Domeric."

"Thank you, Artys." Alyssa rose and shot him a smile, before leaving the solar to begin preparations for her journey.

"You wished to speak with me, ser Artys?" Domeric asked curiously. He did not know why he was here, a messenger had found him as he'd been leaving the practice yard. He'd been giving young lord Robert a lesson on swordplay, a lesson which he feared had not gone well. The boy seemed to have no natural talent, but he tried, and Domeric supposed that that was what mattered.

"Yes, I did," Ser Artys replied, looking at him with those blue eyes of his. Artys looked a little wary, and Domeric wondered once again what this was about. "You have been spending a lot of time with my sister," Artys went on. "The two of you are friends now?"

"Yes, my lord, lady Alyssa is very kind, I am glad to call her a friend."

"I see," Artys studied him intently for a moment. "And you have no dishonourable intentions towards her, I assume?"

Indignant Domeric shot him an incredulous glance. "Certainly not," He replied. "I would not do anything dishonourable in regards to your sister, I assure you."

"Good," Artys nodded, and smiled at him for the first time since he'd entered the room. "I apologise, my lord, but I had to be sure. You see...my sister will be travelling to Highgarden in two days to attend the nameday celebrations of Willas Tyrell. I cannot go with her, however I do not wish her to travel with only guards. So, my lord, would you consider escorting her there?"

Domeric thought about it for a long moment. He really had become friends with Alyssa in the last few weeks, and his father would certainly be pleased, so...he supposed that this was a good thing.

"I'd be honoured," Domeric said at last. "I will ready my belongings at once."

"Thank you, my lord. I am in your debt."

"Not at all, ser Artys," He replied, smiling. "I am happy to help a friend in any way I can."

"Even so, I thank you. Know that you will always have a place in the Vale, my lord."

Touched, Domeric inclined his head. "I thank you, my lord, you will always have a place in my home as well."

Artys smiled, nodding his thanks. Domeric left to pack his belongings, and two days later at dawn, he and Alyssa along with twenty guards rode out, bound for Highgarden. Little did they know what news would await them when they arrived.

Jon Arryn had never felt pain like this. He had been fine the day before and now...now he was sure that he would soon die. He could feel the delirium trying to take him, it was eating away at his thoughts, making them too slow, too hard to catch.

This is poison, Jon thought, it had to be. But how? He'd been so sure that his household was loyal, but clearly the Lannisters had found a gap somewhere.

The Lannisters...the children, they weren't Robert's. They needed to know, he realised, the realm, Robert, his children...oh, gods, his children. Artys...Artys would be lord soon, Jon knew, for he was going to die.

"Artys...my son," Jon whispered, and Pycelle, the bumbling fool, heard him.

"Your son is not here, my lord hand, I am sorry."

I know that, you fool. Jon wanted to shout the words, wanted to get up, to get to Artys, and Alyssa, and little Robert...but he could not. He coughed violently, his body full of agony. He didn't have long now.

No. He couldn't just lie here and die, he told himself furiously. No, he was stronger than that, wasn't he? He'd managed to write a hasty letter the night before, to his twins...he had to warn them. Someone had to know the truth, someone had to tell Robert...
"Robert..." Jon did not know whether he'd said the word or not, but as the fool of a maester spoke up again, he supposed that he must have.

"The king will be here soon, my lord," The maester said. "Do not worry yourself, it will do you no good."

"Ser...Vardis," Jon managed. "Get him. Leave..."

For once, the fool did what he wanted, and a moment later, his loyal knight was at his bedside.

"My lord, you must rest," The knight said. "You must get well..."

"No...time for that now," Jon forced out. "Ser...Vardis, beneath that book there, yes that one, the letter...you must...go and give...give it to them. To Artys...and Alyssa. Promise..."

For a long moment, the knight looked like he might argue. He no doubt did not wish to leave his lord, but this was too important.

"Yes, my lord...I will go at once." Ser Vardis bowed, and left the room. Jon sighed, relieved. Artys and Alyssa could handle things from here, he hoped, they had to. He could not do it himself, not now...and so, knowing that his children would soon know the truth, Jon let the weariness and pain wash over him, dragging him down into oblivion.