At the Eyrie…
Outside, snowflakes were beginning to fall on the Eyrie. But the Lady Regent of the Vale, Lysa Arryn, was in a foul mood with her handmaiden. Lysa was dressed in a gown of cream-colored velvet and a necklace of sapphires and moonstones. Her auburn hair had been done up in a thick braid, and fell across one shoulder.
"I've already told you, we've already bent the knee to that stag boy and that's the end of it! The knights of the Vale will stay in the Vale!" shouted Lady Lysa annoyed.
Eleana moved to keep up with her mistress. "Forgive me, mistress, but I really must protest! The ravens we received were a royal decree from the King himself. Should you refuse the command again—"
Lysa spun around, "I don't care what the decree was, girl!"
She was in a foul mood, as lonely as she was. Her new husband Petyr Baelish seemed to spend more time at the foot of the mountain than he did atop it. He had been gone from the Eyrie for some time, meeting with the Corbrays. From bits and pieces of overheard conversations Eleana knew that the deceased Lord Jon Arryn's bannermen resented Lysa's marriage and begrudged Littlefinger himself his authority as Lord Protector of the Vale. House Royce came close to open revolt over Lysa's failure to aid Daveth Baratheon in the rebellion against Renly Baratheon, and Houses Waynwoods, Redforts, Belmores, and Templetons were giving them every support.
Accompanying both of them was Marillion, a troubadour and singer wandering the Seven Kingdoms selling his musical skills in return for bed, board and coin. When he played for them at supper, the young singer often seemed to be singing directly at Eleana. Her mistress was far from pleased. Lady Lysa doted on Marillion, and had banished two serving girls and even a page for telling lies about him.
Eleana looked about uncertainly. Despite swearing an oath of fealty, Lysa still refused to provide support when the call was rung. Although she tried to persuade her mistress that failure to do so for the second time would only bring about unnecessary trouble, it would be for naught as Lysa again did not listen to reason.
They made their way to the High Hall, where the Moon Door stood in its foundation in the middle of the room. Above it was the highbacked chair of carved weirwood. The chair next to it was taller with a stack of blue cushions piled on the seat – reserved for the Lord of the Eyrie, Defender of the Vale and Warden of the East, but Robin Arryn wasn't there.
Both Eleana and Lysa walked down the blue silk carpet between rows of fluted pillars slim as lances. The floors and walls of the High Hall were made of milk-white marble veined with blue. Shafts of pale daylight slanted down through narrow arched windows along the eastern wall. Between the windows were torches, mounted in high iron sconces, but none of them was lit. Her footsteps fell softly on the carpet. Outside the wind blew cold and lonely.
Amidst so much white marble even the sunlight looked chilly, somehow… though not half so chilly as her mistress. On the wall behind them hung a huge banner, the moon-and-falcon of House Arryn in cream and blue.
Lysa glared at Eleana with such heated intensity, even as the soft chords Marillion were playing in the hopes of settling the widow Arryn down.
"I raised you up from nothing. Took you in as my handmaiden after your mother passed away of a fever. You had nowhere else to go, yet I permitted you to stay by my leave," Lysa stared her down, poking her rather hard. "I could have easily had you banished from my sight. I took you into my service since you were a little girl. And yet you constantly lean over my shoulder making such demands of me? Of my sweet Robin? Your liege lord? Tell me, girl: do you consider yourself above your station?"
Eleana shook her head. "N-no, mistress! I only meant that—"
"Oh, drop the coy deceiving act with me," she cut her off.
The High Hall seemed to grow a little colder. The walls and floors and columns might have turned to ice itself.
"I live to serve you, Lady Arryn! I swear, by the Old Gods and the New, I'd never repay your hospitality with such treachery. I… I'm just concerned about your well-being, and the well-being of your son, Lord Arryn!"
Lysa's nostrils flared. "Then you get this clear into your thick, empty-headed skull of yours: the knights of the Vale will stay in the Vale! And you will never bring that up again with me! I could've had more things to do with my spare time. I have a husband. He has a wife who loves him. A woman grown, not— Ooh, you sneaky bitch," she hissed quietly. "Now I see what you're up to."
"Mistress?" said Eleana confused and worried.
"You've been asking me to send my knights off to war just so you could leave my son vulnerable from the Lannisters and sneak around behind my back and steal Petyr away from me, aren't you?"
Eleana took a step backward. "No, mistress! That's not true!" she denied.
"Then why are you trying to walk away from me when I'm talking to you? Are you afraid? Such wanton behavior must be punished, but I won't be hard on you. You'll need the rod. I'll find some common girl to take your whipping, but first you must own up to what you've done. I cannot abide a compulsive liar, Eleana."
"I'm not lying, mistress," she insisted.
"Have you no honor?" Lady Arryn said sharply. "Look down the Moon Door, then."
Reluctantly, Eleana steadily turned to stare at the Moon Door. It was a narrow crescent moon-shaped hatch built into the floor between two slender pillars in the High Hall through which opened people can fall 600 feet from the sky to the floor of the Vale below. Being thrown through the Moon Door is the preferred method of execution at the Eyrie since the highborn lords and ladies of the Vale had no headsman of their own.
"Do you know how far the fall is?"
Eleana shook her head. "No, mistress."
"Neither do I, precisely," Lysa admitted. "Hundreds of feet. It's fascinating what happens to bodies when they hit the rocks from such a height. The impact breaks them right apart. Like eggs dropped on the floor. Sometimes pieces remain intact. You'll find the head sitting on its own, every hair in place, blue eyes staring at nothing. Perhaps you don't need the rod after all, you little whore."
Now finding herself shaking at the fear of whatever fate has in store for her, Eleana furiously shook her head. "Mistress, please!" she pleaded. Was Lysa drunk or mad? Or both? "This isn't what—"
"Be quiet, I haven't given you permission to speak."
All of Eleana's reasoning and resolve had withered in the face of her mistress's onslaught. Lysa Arryn was frightening her as much as she had ever been these past eighteen years.
"I… I'm sorry for offending you, mistress," she said, trying to sound meek and contrite. "I swear I'm not deceiving you nor am I enticing Lord Baelish. M-may I have your leave to go?"
Lysa shook her head. "No, you may not," she grabbed her by the wrist. "I've been lenient on you for far too long, girl."
"Mistress, please! You're hurting me," Eleana squirmed. "I'm sorry, mistress. I didn't mean to offend you! I swear!"
The Lady Regent of the Vale ignored her protests. "Marillion!" she shouted. "Come here! I need you!"
The singer had remained discreetly in the rear of the hall, but at Lady Arryn's shout he came at once. "My lady?"
"Play us a song. Play 'The False and the Fair.'"
Marillion's fingers brushed the strings. "The lord he came a-riding upon a rainy day, hey-nonny, hey-nonny, hey-nonny-hey…" he sang.
Lady Lysa yanked Eleana's arm rather harshly, but when Eleana heard and felt a blast of cold air brushing by rather loudly – she shivered, turned and noticed the crescent moon-carved hatch opening. Realizing what Lysa was planning, Eleana planted her feet down.
"No, mistress! Please, not that! Not the Moon Door!" she tried to yank free.
"The lady sat a-sewing upon a rainy day," Marillion continued singing. "Hey-nonny, hey-nonny, hey-nonny-hey."
"Look down," said Lysa, digging her fingers into Eleana's arm like claws. "Look down."
Eleana still tried to wrench herself free, but when Lysa used her other hand to grab a handful of the young maiden's hair she shoved her down – forcing Eleana to look down the Moon Door, noticing the open sky and the 600 foot drop below.
"Don't!" she wailed, screaming in terror. "Don't do it! Please!"
"Do you still want my leave to go? Do you?"
"No! Not like this!" Eleana planted her feet and tried to squirm backwards, but Lysa did not budge. Not as long as she maintained a firm grip on her hair. The handmaiden twisted sideways, hysterical with fear. She was shaking, sobbing. "Mistress! Mistress, please let go of me!"
"You couldn't stop butting in my affairs! He is mine! Petyr is mine! My father, my husband, my sister, they all stood between us!" Lysa screamed in Eleana's face, purely delusional as she kept pushing her handmaiden further downwards. "Now learn! This is what happens to people who stand between Petyr and me!"
They teetered on the edge. Far off, she heard the guards pounding on the door with their spears, demanding to be let in. Marillion abruptly broke off his song once he heard the main doors opening and closing loudly.
"Lysa! Let her go."
Lady Lysa turned to see who called out to her, hearing footsteps echoing down the High Hall. Petyr Baelish had come home early, through the lords' entrance behind the dias. As Lysa turned, her grip loosened enough for Eleana to finally break free. She stumbled to her knees, gasping sobs as she remained visibly shaken.
"Eleana's your trusted handmaiden," Petyr pointed out. "She's served you faithfully since she was a little girl. What did you think you were doing?"
"I'm punishing her! She has no gratitude, no… no decency at all. That was all; such a stupid empty-headed girl."
"I see," he stroked his chin slightly. "Still, I believe she knows her place. Isn't that right, Eleana?"
"Yes," sobbed Eleana fearfully. "I know my place now."
Lysa's eyes were shiny with tears. "I don't want her here anymore. I brought her into my care after her mother died, Petyr. And this is how she repays my trust? She doesn't belong here anymore. I'll send her away! I swear on my life. I swear to all the gods!"
Petyr glance down at the quivering handmaiden. "Get off your knees, girl. See to the Lord of the Vale's needs until we get back."
"Please… please don't send me away. I'll be good. I-I promise," she whined, crawling away from the Moon Door on hands and knees towards the main door.
"NO!" Lysa screamed hysterically. "She claims to be innocent, but I know the way she looks at you. She doesn't love you the way I do. I've always loved you. I lied for you. I killed for you. I gave you my virginity, Petyr!"
"Oh, my sweet wife," Littlefinger moved closer, embracing her warmly. "My sweet, silly wife. You ought not to talk so much. We don't want Eleana to know more than she should, do we? Or Marillion?"
Lysa ignored him. "My sister never gave you anything. It was me who got you your first post, who made Jon bring you to court so we could be close to one another. You promised me you would never forget that."
"Nor have I, love." Petyr took another step. "We're together now, just as you always wanted, just as we always planned. After all the storms we've suffered, I shall never leave your side again, for as long as we both shall live."
"Truly?" she asked. "You really mean it this time?"
Marillion stood by the nearest pillar, oblivious as to what was going on. He wasn't singing anymore, eavesdropping closely on their conversation. But what he didn't realize was that Petyr and Lysa were near the edge of the Moon Door.
Littlefinger held Lysa against his chest for a moment before putting his hands on her arms. "My sweet jealous wife, I have only loved one woman, only one, my entire life."
Lysa Arryn smiled tremulously. "Only one? Oh, Petyr, do you swear it? Only one?"
"Your sister."
Her smile suddenly faded into confusion, but didn't have enough time to respond as Petyr gave Lysa a short, sharp shove. Lysa stumbled backward, her feet slipping on the wet marble. And then she was gone. She never screamed. For the longest time there was no sound but the wind. As Petyr watched Lysa fall, he turned to notice Marillion clutching his lute to his chest.
"You… you…" he gasped.
"Guards!" Petyr shouted.
On que, the men-at-arms of House Arryn burst through the door – nearly knocking down Eleana in the process. As she curled her knees to her chest, Petyr helped her to her feet.
'She'll make a perfect candidate,' he thought.
"What the Seven hells is going on here?!" the guards asked.
Petyr glanced at Marillion. "Quickly! This singer's killed my wife Lady Lysa. He pushed her out the Moon Door! Seize him!"
As the House Arryn guards grabbed Marillion and led him to the dungeons, the singer resisted and protested the charges, claiming his innocence. Petyr followed suit behind them, pleased that his plans were falling into place. But unbeknownst to them, Eleana had seen what had occurred through the cracks of the door before being knocked over. She had seen everything, but couldn't find the words to talk right now considering what she went through.
Several days later
An 11-year-old Robin Arryn was an emotional wreck. Having lost his father at King's Landing two years ago and now his mother within their own home, Robin felt beside himself. He cried day and night for his dead mother, demanding her return – but no one answered his prayers. In a fit of rage, Robin screamed that Marillion "fly"; which most of his men did after Marillion continued professing his innocence. Unfortunately for the singer, Robin was too hysterical to even listen.
Eleana, who had been tended to by Lord Yohn Royce, Lady Anya Waynwood and Ser Vance Corbray, was given a brief leave of absence before inevitably returning to the Eyrie to tend to Robin's care. In all but name Eleana had assumed a maternal role, doing her best to fill the void in Robin's life.
"Shhh, shhh. Don't cry, my lord," Eleana spoke calmly, wiping away Robin's tears from his gently, oh so gently.
Robin sniffled. "I can't sleep one bit," his lip quivered. "Marillion hurt my mother. He made her fly out the Moon Door. He killed my mother! I want to come sleep with you!"
'I know you do, Sweetrobin,' she thought sadly. Robin had been accustomed to crawling into bed with his mother until she wed Petyr Baelish.
Since Lysa's death he had taken to wandering the Eyrie in quest of other beds. Turns out the one he liked best was Eleana's. She would not have minded if he only slept, but he was always trying to nuzzle at her breasts, something Eleana didn't approve of one bit.
Petyr Baelish soon entered the room. "How is he doing?" he asked.
Eleana glanced up at him. "I fear he's still upset at the loss of his mother, my lord. Poor thing."
"Indeed. Such a child shouldn't have to endure such tragedy at a young age. We'll be sure he gets the justice he rightfully deserves," he charmed his way through. "Not much justice to be melted out in suicide, is there?"
'Suicide? Is that what you call it? My mistress might've been… insane, but she'd never abandon her little boy in such a vile manner,' Eleana thought again. "Only years ago, the knights of the Vale rode behind our late Lord Jon Arryn, the Queen's father Ned Stark, and the King's father Robert Baratheon."
"And since then, Arryn and Royce, Corbray, Waynwood, all the great houses of the Vale watched from the corner. But we have bigger things to discuss. As Lord Protector of the Vale, I'm to assume guardianship until Lord Arryn comes of age."
Eleana wanted to protest, but kept her mouth shut. Once she finished buttoning Robin's shirt, she stood up and curtsied before moving to take her leave.
"I'll begin preparing supper, my lord. It should be ready for you before sundown," she bowed and left the room.
Now alone, Petyr leaned down and took his stepson's hand in his own. Guiding him down the stairs, Littlefinger informed Robin of the arrangement he made with his vassals and other bannermen. In a few days, Robin would leave the Eyrie and conduct an official tour of his lands.
ooOoo
Moments earlier…
"On their way down, Catelyn Stark begged her sister for support when Renly Baratheon rose up in rebellion, and Lysa refused," Lord Yohn explained the situation. "By staying out of the fray, the Vale's standing with King Daveth has been… strained."
"And yet it is not always too late for further reconciliation, Lord Royce," Littlefinger pointed out.
Lady Waynwood chimed in. "Yet he still speaks of Jon Arryn with high regard, and much affection as we all do."
"Then perhaps that's a start. Use it to rebuild."
"And how do you propose we begin, Lord Baelish?" Yohn asked skeptically.
"By investing in Robin Arryn, Lord of the Vale. Make him into a lord that could make the realm tremble."
"Robin Arryn is a sickly little boy."
"And sickly little boys sometimes become powerful men. More often they die young. I adored Lysa with all my heart, but she loved her son so much she became overprotective. He needs to learn how to swing a sword, how to ride a horse."
Yohn nodded. "Aye, it's time. Yes."
"Time for him to tour the Vale, to visit all the castles in his domain," Littlefinger announced. "Time for Robin to leave the nest."
ooOoo
Robin fiddled his fingers. His head was glued to the stairs, watching his small feet take each step downwards. "I've never left home before, uncle Petyr," he confessed. "I'm afraid to leave."
"You shouldn't be," Petyr replied.
"The Lord of the Vale belongs in the Eyrie, mother said. It's not safe outside."
"It wasn't safe for her inside," he countered. "People die at their dinner tables. They die in their beds. They die squatting over their chamber pots. Everybody dies sooner or later. Don't worry about your death. Worry about your life. Take charge of your life for as long as it lasts. That is what it means to be Lord of the Vale."
Robin felt unsure, nervous and scared at the new responsibility heaped upon him.
"But before that…"
Robin perked his head upwards. "What?"
"There is this," Littlefinger handed his stepson a rolled parchment, the wax seal unbroken. Robin looked at the piece of paper, examining it.
"What is this?" he asked.
"This was the royal decree from the King himself, asking the Vale for assistance in dealing with the Second Greyjoy Rebellion. It may be the King's handwriting, but it's the Queen's words. Sansa Stark's words."
"Sansa…?" Robin looked away, shaking his head. "She's my cousin. If she's asking for help, then we should help her."
Petyr nodded. "That was my intent as well," he turned to Lord Yohn Royce and a dozen Vale soldiers. "Gather the knights of the Vale, my lords," he ordered. "We've been sitting on the sidelines for far too long. It's time for us to join the fray."
######
Author's Note: A bit early, but I think it was time to move forward. Lysa Arryn is gone, but what'll likely get under Daveth Baratheon's skin in future chapters is that he won't be able to do her off after she poisoned Jon Arryn. But don't lose hope after that. There's still another power house to contend with at some point. Petyr Baelish had effectively assumed power in all but name, but Eleana still remains wary of him as do the other lords and ladies of the Vale. He thinks he's playing the Game of Thrones, but he's not exactly trustworthy material.
With the Vale now joining the fight, how do you think it'll affect Daveth's perspective? Thoughts? Let me know.
trollzer69: Yea she dead
―I know, right? Lysa's crazy.
RHatch89: Awesome update :)
―Thanks.
The Three Stoogies: another great chapter so is the wildlings at the wall arc coming or has Daveth enough on his plate right now.
―So far Daveth already has a lot on his plate at the moment, but that doesn't mean the wildlings at the Wall arc won't be put off indefinitely. Don't worry; they'll make their battle with the Night's Watch at Castle Black at some point. Right now, the Second Greyjoy Rebellion is front and center.
kira444: Baelish is gonna get fucked either way. He's already gotten too cocky and having a reputation like his won't even make any bridges to be burned.
―If Sansa could pull it off, I'm certain Daveth could do it too in an almost similar fashion.
Magi Tail Welkin: Daveth I'd say respects the Vale and it's people as a whole. But if I understand him he doesn't trust Baelish. I imagine he'll work more with Lord Royce than with Littlefinger, his reasoning would probably be that Lord Royce is a more experienced fighter while Baelish is a shrewd money-man and political thinker.
Hopefully Eleana will help enlighten matters.
―It was no stranger than Daveth loved Jon Arryn and vice-versa. He doesn't trust Baelish at all, but he really had to find anything incriminating - which isn't easy because Littlefinger is shrewd. So far it's been two years and the case is still nothing yet. Hopefully nothing befalls Eleana.