The door to Lord Baelish's solar in the Eyrie closed behind him and he leaned it against it while letting out a huge sigh. He was still struggling to come to terms with what he had just been told. Lord Petyr's bastard daughter, wasn't. "Alayne Stone" wasn't even her true name. No, "Alyane" was really Sansa Stark, trueborn daughter of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn Stark and the heir to Winterfell.
He didn't know what to do with this information. Both Lord Baelish and Lady Sansa impressed upon him the need to not reveal her true identity, that it could result in the Lannister's declaring them all traitors and coming for their heads. And that would not improve his prospects of becoming Warden of the East. Oh, he didn't want his cousin to die, but everyone in the Vale knew it was only a matter of time before young Lord Robert succumbed to his illness. And when he did, he would become Harrold Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East.
And Lord Baelish wished for him to do so with Sansa Stark by his side as his Lady Wife. He had been somewhat less than enamored at the prospect of wedding her when she was naught but a bastard girl, but he was at least willing to consider it if it would advance his position by tying him to the Lord Protector of the Vale. But now? Now his position would be advanced far more than he had imagined by the match. He would be the brother-by-law to the King in the North. Sansa could bring the full might of the North with her in their marriage. Or she could if her brother accepted the match and the implicit alliance that came with it.
And why wouldn't he? The North needed allies in their fight against the Lannisters. The Knights of the Vale could prove decisive in that fight. They and Dorne were the only armies that had yet to engage in any of the fighting. The men of the Vale were fresh and unblooded. Adding their weight to the fight could prove to be decisive.
He just wasn't sure that was the right decision to make. The North was currently warring with itself. Roose Bolton had bent the knee to the Iron Throne and was attempting to subdue the rest of the North for King Tommen. But the rest of the North had rallied behind Jon Stark, Sansa's legitimized bastard brother. They had proclaimed him King in the North and were determined to continue the fight for their independence from the Iron Throne. How much use as an ally could they be if they had been weakened by fighting amongst themselves?
Even once that fight was resolved, and assuming that Jon and his bannermen won, the North would be severely weakened from their battles. How useful of an ally could they be after that? More likely, it would be the Vale propping up the North and its King. Though, now that he thought about it, he supposed he could see Littlefinger's reasoning behind supporting the North, regardless of what was currently happening there. If the King in the North was indebted to the Vale, they could gain so many concessions from him that their own power and wealth would double, if not treble. House Arryn would be the real power behind the throne. Or rather, Baelish imagined that he would be the one whispering in the King's ear. That reason alone could be enough incentive for the Vale to declare for House Stark. Or at least it could be for Littlefinger.
But what if they failed? They would all find their heads mounted on spikes. And that would be if the Lannisters were feeling merciful when they exacted their punishment. Was the risk worth it? That was the question he had to ask himself. Because even though it technically wasn't his decision, he still had to prepare himself for it to be. At the moment, Young Robert was technically Lord of the Vale, with Lord Baelish serving as his Regent. But in truth, no one expected the boy to last much longer. That was what had triggered the Lords Declarant to sign and put forward their petition in the first place. In light of the situation at the Eryie, Harrold would be failing in his duty if he didn't at least consider the situation and its ramifications.
He couldn't do this on his own. It was too much, too soon. He needed counsel. He needed to speak to someone about this. And he thought he knew exactly the right person. Straightening up from leaning on the door, he made his way down to one of the courtyards, a courtyard where he knew several petitioners were waiting for an audience with Lord Baelish and Lord Robert. Among those waiting was a spice merchant from Gulltown named Eldric. And with him, was Saffron. He could speak to Saffron. Surely she would know what to do.
When he reached the entrance to the courtyard, he scanned the crowd and quickly spotted his lover's honey colored hair. As quickly as he saw her, she saw him as well. He subtly jerked his head to the side with his eyebrows raised. Saffron quickly responded by giving him a small nod of her head in return before telling her father that she would be back and slipping away from the crowd.
Harrold met her in a quiet alcove near one of the privies and wrapped his arms around her before giving her a searing kiss. Looking deep into her eyes, he asked her, "Are you well, my love? How is the babe?"
Smiling shyly up at him and placing a single soft hand over her still nearly flat belly, Saffron said, "We are both well, Ser. How are you faring, Harry? I've barely seen you since we arrived at the castle. I had been hoping that we could have perhaps seen more of each other while we are both here."
Giving her a grin, he replied, "I had hoped for that as well. But Lady Waynwood and Lord Baelish plainly had other ideas, my sweet. Other than having too many worries, I am well. I needed to see you, to speak to you. I have news that I can share with no one else. And I need your counsel."
A worried look crossed his lover's beautiful face and cast a shadow over her features. Spying a bench carved into the wall, she sat and said, "Tell me, Harry. We swore to each other that there would be no secrets between us, and I shall always keep your counsel."
Sitting beside the woman he loved with all his heart, Harry took her hands in his and said, "Lord Baelish came to me earlier this morning. He has been negotiating with Lady Waynwood for my hand in marriage to his bastard daughter, Alayne Stone."
Saffron grew stiff and her features, once showing worry, now appeared to be carved from stone and showed no emotion at all. It broke Harry's heart to see her like this. He loved this girl, far more than he had ever loved Cissy. It was different with Saffron, and that made this all the harder.
Saffron stiffly told him, "I see. So the trueborn daughter of the richest man in Gulltown is good enough to fuck you and bear your child, but not good enough to take your name? Yet the bastard daughter of one of the lowest lords of the Vale is? 'As high as honor,' those are the words of your House, are they not? Well where is your honor now, Ser?"
Harrold's heart broke. He wanted to tell her all that he felt and all that she was all that he had ever wanted. That she was more than worthy enough to take his name and one day become Lady of the Vale. That she was the one who held his heart in the palm of her hand. Instead he told her, "She isn't a bastard. She isn't Lord Baelish's daughter. She isn't even 'Alayne Stone.' Her true name is Sansa Stark, daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, and sister to the King in the North."
Saffron's eyes grew wide in shock, then narrowed in cold fury. She told him, "I see. So is that all that I was you? A girl to warm your bed and bury your cock in until you found someone better, someone with the right breeding and the right name?" Saffron slapped him across his face and said with venom in her voice, "I wish you all the happiness in the world, My Lord."
Saying that she stood and began to storm away. But before she could go more than two steps, Harrold grabbed her arm and spun her around. When Saffron faced him again, she pounded her fists into his chest and began to sob. Any anger he was feeling at her curt dismissal of him instantly vanished. Harrold wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close and held her as tears fell from her eyes and her body was racked with sobs. "Shhhh, shhhhhh, my love. This changes nothing between us. I have yet to agree to the match. You are the one that holds my heart, you and no other. That shall never change."
"But you will marry another regardless. Another woman shall share your bed, take your name, bear your trueborn children. Why?! I love you! You, and no other! I gave you my maidenhead. You swore to be mine, just as I am yours! Yet now you tell me that you will take another and cast me aside."
"I love you, Saffron. Truly and deeply, like I have loved no other before. I have no choice in the matter. If I refuse the match, if I dare follow my heart, I will be cast out, exiled." Harrold paused and cupped Saffron's cheek in his palm and said, "And if that was the only consequence of doing so, I would gladly accept that fate to call you my Lady Wife. But refusing the match would give great insult to House Stark and the North. And that is why I so desperately need your counsel, my love.
"Please, please my love, sit. At least listen so you can see why I am trapped so! I could not bear to see you leave like this."
Harrold's eyes were imploring her to stay, and his arms which were wrapped around her urged the same. And finally, after many, many more sobs, Saffron nodded her head and went nearly limp in his arms as he guided her back to the small bench.
Once he had dried her eyes with the sleave of his surcoat Harrold said, "Lord Baelish intends to declare for House Stark. In the vision that he sees, he would have the North, the Riverlands and the Vale united as one kingdom against the Lannisters. He does not trust them. The Lannisters are drunk on power. He believes that it is only a matter of time before the Lannisters send their armies up the High Road. Only Lord Tywin prevents it from happening, and he will not live forever. The Vale is strong, but we cannot stand against the Westerlands and the Reach alone. Lord Petyr believes we should move now, before the Lannisters have a chance to move.
"But to prove our loyalty to our soon to be king, he wants the heir of the Vale to tie himself to House Stark through a match to Lady Sansa. I care not for her, my love. My eyes are fixed upon you and you alone. But the match is needed in this game of thrones that we are all playing. If we tie ourselves to the Starks now, when they are at their weakest, we will be seen as loyal and true to them. And a bond forged by marriage is one that is not easily broken.
"If we win this war, if our men prove themselves stronger in this coming feat of arms, the North will forever be indebted to us. The concessions that we could gain for trade, in our taxes, in investment, my love, we could see our wealth and power doubled nearly overnight. And not just the high lords, but all in the Vale. Your father would see his wealth rival that of the Manderlys or even the Velaryons at their height during the time of the Seasnake. That is what I could do for the Vale with this match.
"But if we fail, if we lose, if our enemies prove themselves stronger, then I am risking all of our heads. Tell me, Saffron, tell me which course of action should I choose? Tell me to refuse the match, and I will run with you this very night until we find a Septon that will let his virtue be bought and I will wed you this very eve."
Saffron's eyes sparkled at him, like they did the very first time he saw her. He could see the tears in them as she reached for his face and cupped his cheek in her hand, much as he had done to her earlier. And she told him, "I have longed to hear those words for so very long, my love. I wish with all my heart for us to flee this night and spend the rest of our days together. But I cannot ask you to forsake your duty to both your family, and your kingdom. The Vale will need you in the months and years ahead."
As Saffron spoke, Harrold could see her heart breaking into a thousand pieces. She continued, "You must stay and marry Sansa Stark. If the Vale marches to war, you must march to war with a firm ally. And alliances are best made with marriage.
"But promise me, Harry. Promise me that you will not forget me, nor our babe. Promise me that you will always have a place for the memory of me in your heart."
Harrold drew a deep a breath, for his heart was breaking as well. He told the girl that was soon to be a mother, "Always, my love. You shall always have a place in my heart. Nor will you be forgotten. You and the babe shall want for nothing for all your days. And I swear to you that I will find a way to be with you. Our babe will know his father. I swear this to you, by the Old Gods and the New."
The two doomed lovers embraced then, and Harry held the girl with the honeyed hair for as long as either of them could bear. But all too soon, his duty called and he was forced to return to Lord Baelish with his acceptance of the match between him and Sansa. He was forced to leave Saffron behind in the small alcove where they had poured out their hearts to each other, since to be seen with her now would be too dangerous. He had not seen her since.
That had been a fortnight ago. He had been wracked with guilt for how he was having to treat Saffron, but what choice did he have? Even she had agreed that he must do his duty to his House and to the Vale. It was a heavy burden to bear, but bear it he must.
A week prior to his wedding, Lady Stark had come to him, with Lord Baelish, and told him that a Septon had been found that was willing to annul her marriage to Lord Tyrion Lannister. That the Septon in question had accepted the word of seven Septas that had examined her and declared that her maidenhead was still intact and her marriage to Lord Tyrion had remained unconsummated, and was therefore nullified. It was not long following that he found himself here, in the Sept at the Eryie, draping his cloak over Lady Sansa's shoulders. It was such a simple thing, to replace one cloak with another. But it signified so much. Sansa was now his Lady Wife.
Of course publicly, and with the connivance of the Septon, he had wed Alayne Stone. Lord Baelish had insisted on maintaining the deception until the most opportune moment. He could tell that Sansa had not been pleased at having to continue the charade, but she still did what she saw as her duty and continued to be "Alayne" for the foreseeable future.
With their vows said and the Septon's blessing received, the couple returned to the Great Hall whey they feasted the Lords and Ladies of the Vale. The Hall had a chill in it however, winter was coming and the great fires burning throughout the hall could barely keep the frost out of the air. Though the strongwine that was being served was doing an admirable job of making the Lords and Ladies in attendance forget the cold, at least for this night.
They were but halfway through the feast however when Lord Robert's shrill voice cut through the crowd. He nearly screamed at Lord Baelish, "No! Now! I want to do it now! I'm the Lord of the Vale and I want to see the bedding now!"
Littlefinger tried to reason with him, but he finally was forced to admit defeat and nodded his acquiescence to the young Lord. Lord Baelish stood up from his seat and called out, "My Lords, my Ladies! Lord Arryn has informed me that this happy occasion is but half over! For we have had a wedding, but have yet to have a bedding! It is time we bed them!"
In no time at all, both he and Sansa found themselves being carried to their bedchamber and stripped of their clothing. He heard a yelp from Sansa and a quick glance saw her blushing heavily and Young Lord Robert being taken firmly in hand by Lord Royce. This brought on another fit of screaming from the young man, but the screams were soon mercifully cut off when he and Sansa were deposited into their chamber and the door was slammed closed after a few shouted "suggestions" were offered to the bride and groom.
He was no stranger to a ladies bedchamber, but it appeared that Sansa was still a blushing virgin. Or at least that was what she claimed. He had been stripped down to just his smallclothes, while Sansa was left wearing naught but a thin shift. He could see her discomfort from the way she kept shifting about and couldn't seem to decide what part of her to cover with her arms. From beyond the door, several muffled ribald suggestions were still being passed along to them, and that was surely not helping matters with her. Harrold decided he needed to get his wife to relax a touch and so he gave his bride a sly grin and told her, "I was hoping we would have more time at the feast to speak and perhaps drink a bit before we were bundled off to our bedchamber."
"Yes," Sansa replied. "It was rather sudden."
"I'm given to understand that Lord Arryn is not, shall we say, patient."
"No, he can be quite demanding. But he means well. He's just never had anyone to teach him any better."
"It must be difficult to be thrust into the role of mother, the way you seem to have been with our cousin, My Lady."
He could see the guarded look in Sansa's eyes at his off hand comment and he quickly added, "Please, do not misunderstand. I only meant that raising a young boy who was not your own must be difficult."
The guarded look remained in Sansa's eyes, but she responded and said, "It is an honor to help raise the Lord of Vale. And as you say, we share blood."
"Yes, that is so..."
After an awkward pause that felt like it stretched for hours but was likely less than a minute, Harrold said, "Sansa, I'm sorry. I was trying to ease your mind a bit, perhaps get to know you a bit more. But it seems like I've only done the opposite. Would you care for a glass of wine? I had some brought to the room earlier in case we wanted any."
Briefly, Sansa smiled at him, and he thought perhaps he was making some headway. But then she told him, "Harrold, I know you only wed me for the advantages that my name and House will give you. I have spoken with you often enough to know that if you had your way you would have wed Saffron long ago and been done with it. Let us not pretend. This marriage is one that is needed by our Houses. Let us simply be about our duty here. A marriage unconsummated is a marriage that can be set aside, as we both well know. So, how do we go about it?"
This caught him off guard. Before, he had gotten Cissy and Saffron to willingly join him in bed. But Sansa made it sound as if it was no more than a chore to her. He was unsure how to handle this. Or rather his head seemed unsure. His cock on the other hand, was quite sure it knew what to do, as seeing Sansa in her nearly see through shift had caused a definate reaction in him.
Steeling himself, he told her, "Very well. If that is your wish, My Lady. If you would remove your shift, I shall remove my smallclothes, and let us get into the bed together. I swear I shall be gentle, My Lady."
Seeing Sansa bereft of her clothes was certainly pleasing to him. Her breasts were full, her stomach was flat, her arse was nicely shaped and she had a small tuft of red hair where her thighs joined together. They had yet to even touch and already she was arousing him. Yes, he thought, he could have done much worse for a bride.
Once together in bed, Harrold used every technique he knew to arouse his wife and prepare her for him. They kissed, they ran their hands over one another, he explored the soft, moist folds of her sex. When he finally took Sansa's maidenhead, Harrold let out groan of pleasure at the tight, wet heat that enveloped him. Sansa gave a sharp gasp as her maidenhead was torn away, but she did not cry. Instead she wrapped her arms and legs tighter about him, as if to urge him on in his taking of her. It was an urge that he resisted as much as he could. He truly did not wish to hurt her with too frenzied love making.
When he finally did spill his seed inside her, Harrold sighed deeply, before rolling off of Sansa to lay by her side. He attempted to put his arms around his newly deflowered bride, but she seemed disinterested in showing affection towards him. And who could blame her, he though ruefully. She was aware that he already had one bastard, with another on the way from a different girl. Why would she want his affections? He supposed that he could live with that, so long as Sansa gave him children that could bear his own name.
With that thought in his mind, Harrold took Sansa twice more that night. At least Sansa knew and understood the urgency behind his taking her so often. The Vale was going to war. And he would be in command of the Vale forces that were soon to be heading to the Riverlands. If the gods were good, he would be leaving a son in Sansa's belly to carry on his name should he fall in battle.
Five nights after his wedding, Ser Harrold Hardyng was riding at the head of a column of heavy cavalry and heading towards the Riverlands. The plan that Lord Baelish laid out was a daring one. All could agree on that point. The Lannisters would never see the blade coming for their backs until it was already buried deep in them. And when it was over with, a new banner would fly from atop the Eyrie, the banner of House Stark.