A Different Course of Action

by Dovah-wolfbear64

(Canon divergent AU. No Others/White Walkers. Some characters OOC) Jon Snow does not take the black after being selected as a steward, so leaves the Wall. Robb meanwhile marches past the Twins to engage Tywin Lannister head on, thus ignoring the Freys. How will the game of thrones go with this different course of action? [ON HIATUS, READ PROFILE FOR MORE INFO]

13. Wolves and Falcons

Author's Note: Update 1 of 2. This chapter will have a scene set in Dorne to give us a glimpse of what's going on over there.

Warning for sex, and a distressing scene. Yes, it gets quite dark later on in this chapter.

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Chapter 13

Wolves And Falcons

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Petyr

The last thing that Petyr expected was for Lord Lyonel Corbray to refuse his offer of organising a marriage between him and a rich merchant's daughter in Gulltown. After eliminating Ser Lyn and taking possession of Lady Forlorn, Petyr had sent word to Lord Lyonel that his younger brother had left his tower and was last seen boarding a boat that was sailing across the Narrow Sea. Petyr told Lord Lyonel that he would send his people to track his brother down. They had met at Heart's Home, the Corbrays seat, where Petyr told him about Ser Lyn's departure. His lie seemed to work as Lord Lyonel did not question him further on his brother, but that was the only good thing that Petyr could get in regards to the man. When he tried to convince him that they should get sellswords to cross the Narrow Sea and help defend the Vale Lord Lyonel looked uncomfortable.

"Our knights are more than enough to hold the Vale," he had said to Petyr, who felt frustration towards the elder man.

"I understand my lord," Petyr had said to him. "But the knights who remain in the Vale will be hard pushed to deal with any who seek to force entry through the Bloody Gate as well as deal with the Clansmen. Far better to bring in sellswords to assist." Lord Lyonel was not convinced though, and had demanded to know how Petyr intended to pay said sellswords. "I can find the funds to deal with their wages my lord, and I am awaiting a payment from an associate of mine for a previous job. I'll be able to afford such sellswords." Still, Lord Lyonel was not prepared to lend Petyr any aid in regards to bringing in sellswords, and when he spoke of arranging a marriage for him the old lord was furious and finally snapped.

"I have allowed you into my walls Lord Baelish," he said in a stern voice that only just held his anger. "I accepted your acquaintance with my brother and I have taken heed of your counsel from time to time, but I do not approve of your attempts to put me into your debt. Now begone from my home and do not let me see you here in these walls again." Petyr was forced to leave Heart's Home rather swiftly then, feeling a little bit shocked by the lord's sudden dismissal. Few of his plans are working out indeed.

Still, Petyr was doing what he did best regardless; he sat down with his ledgers and closest allies and plotted his next move, though so far that is all that he has been able to do. Maybe I should've used Stark for a little bit longer, he thought. At least with that honourable fool I would still be within the capitol and able to deal with him. That and I would still have my network of informants and spies. Going through his ledgers Petyr counted up the current value of the loans that he had made in the crown's name and smiled when he worked out the number. The Iron Bank of Braavos had loaned just over three-and-a-half-million dragons over the last few years, leaving Petyr with more than enough money. Of course he had never given the crown treasury much of the loans as he had diverted much of the funds to his own coffers. Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn had been none the wiser of his true activities, much to his own amusement. And as far as the Iron Bank was concerned the debt was the crown's, not his. Petyr looked over to Lothor who was sat beside Oswell Kettleblack, an old white haired man-at-arms who has served Petyr for quite a while now. Both men are loyal enough but Petyr has them both keeping an eye on each other, without either of them knowing that they are watching each other.

"Lothor, what have your friends said recently?" he asked. "Anything of note that I should be aware of?" Lothor Brune shook his head with a grunt.

"Nothing my lord," he said. "They seem to be quiet at the moment, almost as if they are afraid that they will be gifted red smiles should they show their faces." Petyr sighed in annoyance at this before turning to Oswell.

"What about you Oswell, what are your sons saying just now?" he asked. The old man-at-arms wiped his fingers over his wind burnt face before giving his answer.

"None of my sons have been able to get in touch with me, not since Osney got himself into trouble at Gulltown," he answered. Petyr raised a brow at that little piece of news.

"What has he done now?" he asked. Oswell straightened up in his seat before he spoke.

"Had a little scuffle with some blasted labourer over a bloody whore," he told Petyr. "Osney took a fancy to her and tried to bed her, but the idiot threw his fist at my lad, so the two of them got into a brawl. My other two are trying to get him out of the cells just now, but the gaolers at the prison are not budging just now. Apparently they are new gaolers who have not yet been told about you." Petyr gave Oswell a reassuring smile while he felt angry with the man's son for his stupidity.

"I'll see to it that they know who actually pays their wages, and if that doesn't budge them then I'm sure Lord Grafton can deal with them," he told Oswell. The man-at-arms nodded his head in answer, and Petyr looked between both men. "So at this moment in time we are severely disadvantaged. No news, no more business opportunities, and little to no income." He shook his head, doing his best to hide his annoyance. "I feel like I am being taken for a fool. And as both of you should know, I do not like being taken for a fool. Now..." Petyr was interrupted when the door to his solar burst open as a young servant rushed in.

"Many pardons milord," the servant said. "A... gentleman of questionable repute is here claiming that you wish to see him." Petyr huffed, no longer caring to hide his annoyance. This better be Xallo here to see me, he hoped as he stood up.

"Well then, let's see what this questionable fellow wants, shall we?"

Petyr followed the youth who led them outside his tower where a group of pirates were stood. Lothor and Oswell were with him, as well as a dozen guards and ten sellswords. The servant stopped a few yards away from the pirate, who Petyr recognised as Berros, Xallo's second-in-command. The pirate had a long beard that was dyed a deep blue and styled into four prongs, while the hair on his head was its natural brown colour. His dark eyes gleamed with irritation as he watched Petyr approach. Standing next to Berros were eight other pirates, all looking quite grizzled and one or two sporting what looked like new scars.

"Berros, I did not expect to see you here for some time," Petyr said, though in truth he had expected to see Xallo a few weeks ago. "Where is good Captain Xallo? He has something for me that I paid an awful lot of money for." Berros gave Petyr a toothless smile that seemed to be full of hate.

"Xallo's dead Lord Baelish," the pirate answered. "We tried raiding some Pentoshi ship, but Xallo fell to a bloody knight who happened to be onboard. Once he died I got everyone else to leave the ship and we sailed for here as soon as was possible. However while we sailed here we had ourselves a little mutiny. Aside from my fellows beside me here there are only a dozen and a half men left." Petyr shook his head at this, trying not to look too disappointed.

"That is quite the problem Berros," he said. "Tell me though, do you still have Xallo's prize with you?" The pirate snorted before spitting onto the ground.

"You mean that cursed Valyrian sword? Nope, the knight who killed Xallo claimed it," Berros answered. "We took a captive who told us that the knight was one of a couple of twins from the Reach who were going back home after escaping King's Landing." Petyr's eyes widened as he realised who this knight could well be; either one of the Redwyne twins, who Cersei was holding prisoner at the Red Keep to stop Lord Paxter from sailing for Renly. Of course the Redwyne twins had escaped several days before Petyr was forced to leave King's Landing himself. How did one of those buffoons manage to gain a sword held by an old pirate? I thought those boys were completely inept at everything besides breathing? he wondered.

"Well, that is a pity," Petyr began as he stroked his chin beard carefully, eyeing the pirates up carefully. "But as it happens I have a good idea of who that knight was, and so now you will have your new job." Berros spat at the ground again before glaring at Petyr.

"You can stick your job and go fuck yourself Baelish," he snapped. "I'm not going to risk life and limb for some stuck up lesser lord over a poxy sword that is known to be cursed. When we got that blade Xallo was told that it were a cursed blade. Fucks sake, some idiot even called it Luck's Bane. What kind of name is that for a sword anyway? And its previous owners all died within a year of taking the damn thing. So no, I ain't laying a finger on it or going anywhere near wherever it is." Petyr sighed at the pirate's angry words. "So now you can give us our coin and we'll be buggering off out of here, you understand me?" Petyr folded his arms and nodded his head.

"Oh I understand you alright," he said before turning his head to look at Lothor. "Let's pay the man, shall we?" he said. Lothor nodded his head before turning to the guards, barking commands at them. Petyr turned to face Berros and smiled at him. "Your payment, for a poorly done job." He watched with satisfaction as the pirates faces showed shock and horror, and a second later the crossbows that Petyr's men held loosed off their shots. All nine pirates fell as quarrels hit them, sending them sprawling over the ground. Petyr continued to watch as Lothor and three other men wandered over and slashed the throats of the dying men. After they were done Petyr turned around to face Oswell. "Have some men go to their ship and deliver the rum that I had set aside for them. You know which one I mean."

"Will do milord," Oswell said with a bow before he walked off.

Several hours later Petyr was lying down in his bed after being told of how the pirates that were left aboard the ship had fallen ill after consuming the rum. Oswell had given them the rum and told them that Berros and his men were still sorting out their payment, and best of all the fools believed the story. Pirates. They'll believe anything when you offer them drink, he thought. The rum he had given them was laced with several different poisons, all of which were fatal and resulted in the ship crew dying rather unpleasant deaths. The manner of killing the pirates was somewhat satisfying, especially after being informed of their failure. He had hoped to get the Valyrian steel sword as his main prize, but thanks to the greed common to all pirates it was lost to him. Still he had secured all of the other treasures and valuables that the pirates had taken since being sent on their quest. Petyr drifted off to sleep on a full belly and slept peacefully. When he woke up it was the start of a new day, yet the day would be long and repetitive. So it was for nearly a week when a letter had arrived from Lysa.

Petyr was just finishing his breakfast when a servant brought him a letter that was sent by raven. He took the letter and finished his meal before opening it and reading its contents.

Petyr my love,

You must come to me at once. Cersei knows about what we did, and I fear that she will tell my sister. I know that Cat will not betray me but her husband might know the truth once he sees it. Please ride to the Eyrie and help me. The Lords of the Vale refuse to listen to me and have declared Eddard as their King. I do not know what to do. Help me, please.

Your true love,

Lysa

Petyr felt a shudder run through him them as he read the letter for a second time. If what she wrote was true then he was in greater danger than before. Ned Stark, a King? Well that doesn't bode well, he thought. Petyr for the first time in a long while felt pure fear run through him. If he ever sets his eyes on me I am as good as dead. I doubt he would even entertain the idea of sending me off to the Wall. The sensible thing to do would be to leave the Vale and sail across the Narrow Sea, but then what? Summon sellswords to lend assistance? Hire the Faceless Men? Find the Targaryen girl and offer to restore her family to the Iron Throne? After thinking about it that last one was a good possibility for him. He could marry her so long as her husband was dead, assuming that she was still alive of course, and then once she has birthed a son and they have retaken the Iron Throne he could remove her from the picture and organise the founding of his own dynasty. And if she's dead I can always gather more help around Braavos, such as the Faceless Men, he decided.

Petyr stood up and walked outside, his mind made up. He found his staff and gave them orders to move all of his belongings to his new ship. The pirates were dead, and Petyr had already hired a new crew a short while ago, so all he needed to do was get onboard and sail away. Lothor approached him and waited for him to tell him what to do while Petyr gave out his orders. Eventually Petyr looked at him.

"It's time for us to leave Westeros for a short time," he told him. "My plans are not working out just now, and I need to consolidate elsewhere. Can I trust you to help me?" Lothor gave Petyr a short bow.

"Always my lord," he answered.

"Good," Petyr replied before turning to Oswell who had just arrived a moment ago.

"Milord, is there anything else that you require?" he asked.

"Yes Oswell. Tell me is Osney out of prison yet?" Petyr had sent word to Lord Grafton about wanting Osney released from prison and had yet to receive a reply. Oswell nodded his head in answer though, and Petyr knew that he was able to tie up the loose ends that needed tying up. "Send word to him, and tell him that I have need of him at the Eyrie." Oswell nodded his head slowly, no doubt wondering why Petyr wanted Osney there.

"And what is my lad to do there milord?" he asked eventually. Petyr leaned over and quietly told him what he wanted Osney to do. Oswell looked at him with wide eyes then. "That is risky, but he'll see it done milord, you have my word." Oswell wandered off then, leaving Petyr with Lothor who was looking at him with a raised brow.

"Do I wish to know why my lord?" was all he asked. He had heard what Petyr had said, but he would not repeat the words.

"Trust me Lothor, the less you know, the better for you," Petyr said as they walked to where his new ship was anchored off. It took them an hour to get to where the ship was, and they saw the crew that Petyr had hired hard at work shifting the heavy supplies around. They watched as the crew did their job with preparing the ship for sailing, all the while aware of the gathering small folk who would no doubt begin to gossip once they leave. I'll need to make sure they stay silent, he realised. "Lothor, do me a favour would you?" he asked. Lothor looked at him with a look of concern.

"Yes my lord?"

"The small folk here will no doubt talk about this once we are gone," he said. "Could you make sure that they don't?" Lothor looked over to the small folk in question and nodded his head.

"Pirates take advantage of war all the time, attacking innocents when they know that they can get away with it," Lothor said as he walked off, waving some of his men over to him.

After half an hour Petyr was climbing up onto the ship, the crew going about their work while off in the distance small folk screamed as they were cut down. Petyr walked along the deck while looking towards the shore, watching the guardsmen wandering back with bloodstained swords. Lothor was at the front with Oswell walking not too far away from him. Petyr leaned over the top, looking down at the water as it splashed against the hull. He was lost in his thoughts while Lothor and Oswell climbed onto the ship, followed by their men. Soon the ship began to sail, heading for Essos. Petyr went below deck with Lothor and Oswell behind him. They entered the cabin and sat down.

"I have sent a messenger to my sons milord," Oswell said as he fidgeted in his seat. "Osney will do as you have asked. He may not like the command but he will do as he is told." Petyr gave Oswell a firm look before nodding his head.

"I am glad," he said. "It's ugly business, but it needs to be done sadly. Speaking of ugly business I must thank you Lothor for taking care of the small folk. I think it's high time that I reward you for your loyalty." Lothor looked at Petyr then, his eyes betraying nothing.

"I did as I was bid, there is no need to reward me," he said. Petyr stood up and walked to the cabinet on the other side of the room.

"Still, I did promise you a suitable reward for serving me loyally, and I aim to keep that promise." Petyr lifted out the sword that was in the cabinet and passed it to Lothor, who looked stunned to see Lady Forlorn in his hands. "Once we are at Braavos we can find a blacksmith to change the hilt so as to not arouse suspicion from the Corbrays when we return to Westeros. A fitting reward, do you not think?" Lothor looked at Petyr after examining the blade and nodded his head.

"A fine reward, my lord," he agreed.

"Splendid," Petyr responded. "Now, let's relax for now, shall we? We have a long journey ahead before we reach Braavos, and plenty of time to plan our next move." With that the three men sat down at the table and after an hour or so they ate their dinner. With dinner done they set about going over their stores and supplies before getting some rest for the night. It'll be a long voyage, Petyr thought bitterly. I hope things will improve for me once we get to Braavos.

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Elia

The sand steeds whinnied as they came to a stop in the courtyard of Sunspear. Elia turned her head at the familiar sound to find a group of men dismounting their horses. One of the steeds was a stallion which had a beautiful black coat with a mane and tail the colour of fire. Its rider had already dismounted, but Elia did not need to see the rider to know who it was. She ran over to the stallion and gently rubbed his snout with her hand before walking around it and throwing her arms around the rider.

"Welcome home father," she said to the man who chuckled. Oberyn Martell returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around her.

"Hello child," he said. "You've been riding again, haven't you?" Elia smiled slightly at her father's observation. Her mother often despaired at her fondness of horse riding, especially as she would often come back smelling like a horse. On days when she spends all of her time with her horse she smells of a stable, according to her mother. To Elia there was nothing better than riding a horse, and jousting. At thirteen she was an accomplished rider, and was quite skilled with a lance as well. Stepping back from her father she looked at the other riders and noticed that there were fewer men than had left with him when he rode for the Riverlands. She also noticed that her sisters were missing.

"Where's Nym? Where is Obara?" she asked. Oberyn sighed before grabbing her braid and throwing it casually over her shoulder.

"They are still at Riverrun my dear," he said. "They chose to stay behind as Dorne's representatives to the Stark King's court." Elia blinked at that, suddenly remembering hearing of the Northern Declaration that Eddard Stark had sent out across Westeros.

"So it's true then? There is a King in the North once more?" she asked. Oberyn smiled widely at her before stepping aside to speak to one of his men. As he moved Elia saw a man who was blindfolded and bound being pushed along by Martell guardsmen. "Father, who's that man there?" she asked, pointing at the prisoner. She looked at her father and saw that his eyes had darkened with anger; the kind of anger that Elia knew meant that he had murder on his mind.

"Do not worry yourself over him child," he answered. "You will find out later on, either today or tomorrow. I need to find your uncle, we have much to discuss. I'll see you later."

"But father..." she began, only for Oberyn to look at her with frustration in his eyes.

"Elia," he said sharply, his eyes hardening once again. Elia looked at her father's eyes and saw the pain and sadness, which she knew would give way to anger soon.

"Yes father," she replied, her voice quiet and defeated. "I'll see you later." She saw him nod his head before she began to turn away. As she did she felt a hand grab her shoulder gently to keep her still before feeling her father kiss her forehead.

"We'll talk later child," he said before walking into the Old Palace. Elia walked away, guiding her father's sand steed to the stables after slapping the stable boy's hand away.

Elia took her father's stallion to its stall and began to clean and groom him, thoroughly brushing his coat, mane and tail before sorting out his feed. As she groomed the horse, falling into a routine that for her was as simple as breathing, Elia allowed her mind to wander. Why must he always be sad when he speaks my name? she thought, blinking her eyes to stop them watering. Why did he name me for my aunt if doing so only made him sad and angry? It's not fair! Elia often wondered why her father chose to name her for his beloved sister Elia Martell. She only learned of the true story after her ninth nameday, when her father finally felt that it was time to tell her of her namesake and her children, Elia's cousins. Her namesake was her father's elder sister who was said to be kind and sweet, especially to her loved ones. Princess Elia Martell had married Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and birthed his children, a girl named Rhaenys who was said to have her mother's dark hair and eyes, and a boy named Aegon who had his father's Valyrian looks. Not long after little Aegon's birth Rhaegar Targaryen had taken some Northern girl and started a war that saw him killed in battle, and also resulted in Elia's aunt and cousins being murdered. Rhaenys was said to have been stabbed half-a-hundred times while Aegon had his skull shattered against a wall. The same man who killed Aegon then raped and murdered Elia Martell while his hands were still slick with Aegon's blood. What made it worse, Oberyn had said, was that they were still children; Rhaenys only a girl of three while Aegon had not even seen his first nameday. Watching her father tell her the story of her namesake was heartbreaking for Elia as he had spoken with tears in his eyes and anger in his voice. It pained her to no end that what happened to his beloved sister haunted Oberyn even to this day.

After feeding the stallion Elia sat down and sighed, rubbing her hands down her breeches. She had had a lovely day earlier, taking her sand steed out for a ride through the Shadow City to the west of Sunspear before having a brief dip in the sea. She had been happy, but now her father was back and instead of being happy she was grumpy. Grumpy that her father had to see Uncle Doran first; grumpy that he would rather not tell her more about what was happening; grumpy because she knew that if she spoke to her mother about it that she would side with Oberyn. As she let out a loud sigh she suddenly found a pair of hands cover her eyes.

"Guess who?" came the sultry voice of her eldest cousin.

"Arianne!" Elia said in annoyance. "Why do you always do that? You know I hate it." She stood up when her cousin took her hands away and turned to face her. Her buxom cousin had her long thick black hair loose, falling to the middle of her back in ringlets as was her preference. She wore a flowing silk gown with many jewels around her forearms, neck and fingers. The gown was tight enough to make her large breasts look as if they were about to burst out. She even wore her most seductive smile, Elia noticed.

"Oh don't be such a bore Elia," Arianne said with a laugh, stepping closer and placing an affectionate kiss on her cheek. "Your father has come home and has a very... special... guest to introduce." Elia rolled her eyes.

"I know Arianne, I saw him earlier when he arrived, which should've been obvious to you seeing as his stallion is right behind me in his stall," she retorted. Her cousin tutted in mock annoyance, shaking her head slightly before putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh come on Elia, I'm just playing with you," she said. "Anyway, you'll want to go and have a bath and dress up nice. My father has decided to make an announcement in regards to this blasted war going on, so you best be looking pretty." Elia looked at Arianne with wide eyes, folding her arms in front of her and cocking her head to the side.

"Since when does Uncle Doran care about how I smell?" she asked. Arianne laughed loudly, a shrill laugh that grated on Elia's ears.

"Since Ellaria told him that you smelled of horse shit little cousin," she said. "Now come on." With that Arianne grabbed Elia by her arm and dragged her out of the stable. "Tyene is waiting for you. She will help you look pretty. And by pretty I mean not looking or smelling like a horse, though personally I think that's the only way that you can look pretty." Elia smiled despite herself.

"Stop trying to cheer me up Arianne," she told her.

"Why, is it working?" Arianne replied with a smirk.

Twenty minutes later Elia found herself being stripped naked by Arianne and her elder golden haired sister Tyene before being forced into a bath. Elia grumbled about being bathed just for a blasted meeting where she would not be standing with her trueborn cousins. I'm a bastard, so what does it matter? she thought. She was grateful though that the dress that Tyene picked out for her was a rather plain pale green one and not a silly frilly pink thing that would make her look more like someone from a mummers troupe. After spending fifteen minutes being scrubbed clean by Tyene, with Arianne just standing around by the vanity looking at the various bottles of perfumes that Elia personally found to be foul, Elia was climbing out of the tub and being dried. After she was dry Tyene helped her to put the dress on before letting her secure her dagger around her ankle. Arianne approached with a bottle in her hands, and Elia glared at her.

"If you dare come near me with that, I'll put horse shit into your wardrobe, your bed and wherever else I feel like stuffing it," she warned her, earning a mischievous giggle from her.

"As if I would ever be cruel to you Elia," she said.

"Come now sister," Tyene said. "We can't have your hair smelling of horse now can we?" Elia grunted in annoyance, but she found that she could not argue with Tyene.

"Fine," she spat. "Only a small amount, and keep it away from my face." Ten minutes later, as the sickly smelling perfume was starting to make Elia feel like she would empty her bowels, the door opened to Areo Hotah, Uncle Doran's captain of the guards.

"Prince Doran is ready for you Princess Arianne," the Norvosi said, his longaxe gripped tightly in his hands. Arianne smiled sweetly at him.

"Lead the way Areo," she said. Elia and Tyene walked behind their cousin as they were led to the hall where the announcement was to be made. Once they entered the hall Arianne made her way to sit beside her father, the ruling Prince of Dorne. As his eldest child Arianne was his heir, as is the custom in Dorne; in Dorne the Rhoynar laws of inheritance take precedence, allowing women to become the heads of their Houses. Despite that Elia has heard her elder sisters talking about how Arianne would grumble about Uncle Doran plotting to make Quentyn his heir instead. Uncle Doran would not do that to her, she thought. Not without a damn good reason anyway. As Arianne took her seat by her father, Quentyn and Trystane sat down on their father's opposite side. Elia found herself being guided by Tyene to the table just to the left of where her uncle's table was, where her mother Ellaria was sitting with her younger sisters; Obella was sitting next to their mother wearing a light blue dress with cream coloured sleeves, with a small smile on her eleven year old face; six year old Dorea was fidgeting in her seat with a scowl on her face, no doubt unhappy that she was not allowed to have her morning star at the table; five year old Loreza was being held in their mother's arms, giggling as Ellaria tickled her sides.

Elia walked over to where her mother and sisters were and sat herself between her mother and Obella, with Tyene joining her as well. When they were sat down Ellaria leant over and kissed her cheek.

"Hmm, not too bad this time," she said with a smile, no doubt inferring to Elia's normal odour. Elia managed to not roll her eyes and instead gave her mother a smile. A few moments later she saw her father enter the hall, and then everyone fell silent. Oberyn walked up to the high table where Prince Doran was sat, with Areo Hotah stood behind him with that longaxe of his held at the ready. Elia watched as her father stopped before the table and nodded his head to his elder brother.

"Prince Oberyn, my brother," Doran began, his voice loud so all could hear. "I trust that you bring us good news?" Elia's father gave her uncle a wide smile. He clicked his fingers, summoning a squire who had a bag in his hands, and answered his brother.

"I have treated with the Starks at Riverrun," Oberyn declared. "While I could not speak with Robb Stark as he had marched out to attack the Westerlands I did speak with his father Eddard, who as you no doubt are already aware has been named as the King in the North." The various nobles gathered throughout the hall started to murmur as Oberyn's words sank in. After a moment they fell silent, allowing him to continue. "I can also tell you that the Riverlords and the Lords of the Vale have pledged him fealty, making him King of the Trident and of the Vale as well. And more importantly he has offered us an alliance to bring justice upon Tywin Lannister and his ilk." Elia sat up straighter in her seat then, waiting for her father to continue. "Tywin Lannister rots in a cell beneath Riverrun, along with his sons the Kingslayer and the Imp. His henchman Gregor Clegane is dead." Oberyn spoke with a touch of venom at the mention of the name of his sister's killer, but afterwards his eyes seemed to light up. "The Mountain that Rides was slain at the Humbling by one Ser Wylis Manderly, who I am told had driven his lance into the beast's side. I saw his head myself and have been told by all that I asked that it was indeed our Princess Elia's murderer who had been slain." The squire held out the bag to Oberyn then, who put his hand into it and a moment later pulled out the skull of a man; Elia noticed that the skull was larger than that of any other normal person.

"Our sister has been avenged then?" Doran asked.

"Elia and her son Aegon can now rest in peace, now that justice has been done," Oberyn said as he handed the skull to a Martell guardsman before clicking his fingers again. "Also, as part of our agreement, we have been delivered the murderer of our niece Rhaenys." Two guardsmen brought in the man that Elia saw earlier, who was struggling as he was dragged in. The man was quite portly, with a pale piggy face and thinning hair. When he spoke, demanding the guards to unhand him, his voice was high and thin. "Amory Lorch, the murderer of Rhaenys Targaryen," Oberyn said. Lorch looked back at him and glared, his pig-like eyes full of cruelty.

"That's Ser to you you Dornish shit," the man spat.

"Now now Ser Amory," Doran spoke, holding up a hand to silence him. "There is no need for bad manners, especially in my hall. No doubt you know who I am?" Lorch did not answer, and Elia thought for a second that he would remain quiet until he spat onto the floor in front of him.

"Go fuck your-" his answer was silenced by the guard on his left punching him in the gut.

"I am the Lord of Sunspear and the ruling Prince of Dorne," Doran continued as if he had not just been cursed at. "I also happen to be the uncle of a lovely little girl who you brutally murdered sixteen years ago. Rhaenys should have been celebrating her nineteenth nameday just over a fortnight ago. Perhaps she would have been celebrating with a husband and child of her own. But you took that from her. Here in Dorne we despise those who bring harm to children." Elia watched as the false knight stared at her uncle with what she could only think was total disgust in his eyes.

"I only did my duty to my liege," he spat. "As a knight I am bound by oath to serve my liege lord and to follow his orders. Lord Lannister commanded me to kill the whelp. If she hadn't kicked me then her death would've been kinder." Elia was sickened by the man's words. She wanted nothing more than to walk up to him and slit his throat with her dagger, but she felt her mother's hand grabbing her wrist and a moment later heard her telling her to calm down. Is my anger that obvious?

"So you admit that Lord Tywin ordered the deaths of my sister and her children?" Doran asked. Lorch just laughed, a short and cruel laugh that sent a shiver up Elia's back.

"Aye, that he did," he said. "And if he told me to do it again then I would."

"You are no true knight!" someone in the crowed shouted out.

"I don't care what some goat fucker thinks," Lorch retorted. "I have the same rights as any knight, and as I know that whatever trial you would hold would only see me dead I demand the right to a trial by combat." The entire hall fell silent then as all eyes turned to Doran. Elia could not read her uncle's expression, but she did see the smirk on her father's face. You wanted him to do that, didn't you father? she thought. After a short time Doran spoke.

"As a knight you do indeed have that right, though as has been said you are no true knight," he said. "A true knight would never harm a child even when ordered to. His oaths to defend the innocent would stay his hand. But nevertheless I shall grant you that right. Would you like a champion or shall you fight yourself?" Lorch sneered at Doran.

"I'll fight my bloody self," he said. Elia shifted in her seat before looking back at her uncle.

"Very well. The trial shall be held on the morrow. Who will fight for Dorne?" As Elia expected her father stepped forward, a malicious grin on his face. You stupid fool Lorch, Elia thought with a grin. You've just got yourself a more painful death.

"I shall fight him brother," Oberyn said, "for Elia, her children, and Dorne." Doran nodded his head and waved his hand, and Lorch was dragged away to the cells. After the false knight was gone Elia looked to Tyene who was smirking.

"Did you know of this Tyene?" Elia asked. Tyene looked at her and smiled widely. The smile was one of innocence, but her eyes betrayed her more devious nature.

"How else would I be able to make sure that I have everything that I need when I go to help prepare his last meal tomorrow?" she said playfully. Elia smiled at her sister's words, knowing that she would likely slip in a poison that would make Lorch fight poorly.

"No doubt you'll make him ill on the morrow," Elia said. Tyene tutted at her in response.

"My cooking is absolutely perfect Elia," she said, her voice feigning offence rather perfectly. After their conversation ended Doran clapped his hands to get the attention of everyone in the room.

"With justice having been served for my sister Elia and her son Aegon, and justice to be served for her daughter Rhaenys tomorrow, we must now take this opportunity to ensure justice is done properly," he stated. "With the offer for an alliance with the North and their allies of the Riverlands and the Vale, the time has now come for Dorne to enact her vengeance against the Lannisters. For many years you have all wanted me to strike back in answer to my sister's murder. For many years I have urged caution and asked you to wait for the perfect time. Well my brothers and sisters of Dorne, that time has now come for us." Doran reached for his wine cup and raised it high, and everyone else in the hall took up their own cups as well. "Tomorrow we shall see my brother triumph over Amory Lorch. And the day after we march to the Westerlands and help the Young Wolf and his father to defeat the Lannisters. The days of the rule of the Iron Throne are now done. Dorne no longer answers to those north of us, but we will stand shoulder to shoulder with those who will help us gain justice. And when the Lannisters lay ruined at our feet, they and all others who fight against us will know, that we are forever unbowed, unbent, unbroken." Everyone in the hall cheered, their voices so loud that Elia thought she would go deaf.

The nobles drank from their cups and Uncle Doran called for a feast to commence. Food was served to everyone, and Elia helped herself to the food that was on offer. As she ate Elia occasionally looked at her father to see him speaking with Doran, who he spoke with for a good ten minutes. Elia was annoyed that her father was still talking with him, but she decided to just focus on her food. As she helped herself to a leg of spiced lamb Oberyn finally sat down beside her mother, leaning over to kiss her before speaking with them.

"Doran has agreed to let me lead the first ten-thousand spears," he said. Elia felt a surge of worry go through her then. She looked at him and saw the serious look in his eyes. "More men will follow me over the next few months."

"How will you get those men through the Reach father?" Elia asked him. Oberyn looked at her with a reassuring smile on his face.

"You let me worry about that," he answered. "Despite everything our merchants are still making good coin, and they need their guards to look after them. A war is a good reason to provide even more guards for traders caravans." Elia gave a slight smile before returning to her food. She had barely gotten her first mouthful in when her father spoke to her again. "Elia, I know you worry for me," he said. "But you need never worry. When I go to war you will stay here with your mother and younger sisters, while Tyene will travel with me. I expect that I will meet up with the Young Wolf when I arrive outside Lannisport, which won't happen for quite a while. But you will stay and help your mother look after your sisters." Elia finished her mouthful of food before responding.

"But father I want to go with you," she said insistently. "I can ride like I was born in the saddle, I can defend myself with a dagger, I can even fight with a lance."

"A lance is only good on the initial charge my girl," Oberyn said. "In the swirling melee of battle a dagger is only good as an off hand weapon. You need a proper weapon like a sword or spear, and you are not skilled in such yet." Elia looked down at the table in front of her, annoyed that her father was right.

"It's not fair," she said, her voice quiet.

"El," Obella spoke, her hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "Papa knows best with fighting," she said. Elia looked at her little sister, who gave her a cute smile. "And you promised me that you would teach me more about horse riding." Elia sighed at that, knowing that she would not get the chance to argue with her father and win now that her sister was pressuring her to stay.

"Obella is right child," her father said. "It's time for her to learn to ride a horse properly." Elia looked at her father and saw her mother beside him with a look of despair on her face.

"Lover, really?" she said in exasperation. "You'd have Obella spend all of her time in the stables?" Oberyn just grinned before looking back at Ellaria.

"I'll have her spend time with her elder sister and learn about horse riding, and it'll keep our Elia out of trouble too," he said. Elia smiled despite herself, knowing that her father was right and not being happy about it either.

"Very well," she said. "I'll stay put. But next time you have to leave Dorne I will go with you. And you won't stop me." Oberyn looked at her with a sly grin.

"That would not be the first time that you made such a declaration child," he said. "And if I get my way, which I always do, it won't be the last either." Elia smiled before looking back at her food and eating. She felt her father kissing her brow a moment later, and then she focused on her thoughts afterwards. So you say father, she thought with a slight grin. You'll win this time, but next time I will go with you. And you won't stop me from going.

---

Catelyn

"Halt! Who would pass the Bloody Gate?" the voice shouted from the top. Catelyn looked up from her horse at the men stationed at the gate that guards the only sure way to enter the Vale of Arryn on land. From beside her Ned rode a little further forward and looked up at the guards.

"Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell and King in the North and the Trident and the Vale!" he shouted up to the man. "With me is Lord Yohn Royce of Runestone, who can confirm my words!" Lord Royce rode up beside Ned and looked up at the man as well.

"You know me ser!" he bellowed. "Now open the Bloody Gate!" After a few moments the gate opened up and Catelyn followed her husband as they rode through into the Vale. Their escort was three-hundred-and-fifty men strong, more than enough to deter any Vale Clansmen from attacking, not that any would want to after so many were killed during the Humbling. Catelyn rode beside Ned and Lady Waynwood, who had her sons beside her as well, while Theon hung further back, looking on with a look of wonder on his face, no doubt remembering the stories that Ned would tell the children about his time in the Vale. The journey from Riverrun to the Vale was thankfully quick and uneventful, although everyone was nervous of being stopped at the Bloody Gate. However that did not happen, and so Catelyn found herself looking up towards the Eyrie once again.

It took the large group half a day to travel to the Gates of the Moon, where they were greeted by Lord Yohn Royce's cousin Lord Nestor Royce. The cousins spoke with each other for a time after introductions were made while dinner was made ready for them. Catelyn and Ned decided to spend the evening at the castle, neither one of them wishing to travel up the Giant's Lance that night. Catelyn sat down on the foot of the bed having just removed her clothes and put on her night gown while Ned stood by the open window wearing only his breeches. He was looking up towards the Eyrie at the top of the mountain.

"Last time I was here was during the winter before the rebellion," Ned said with a sigh. Catelyn looked up to him as he spoke. "Robert and I..." Ned snorted with laughter before he continued. "We had just raided Jon's cellar which had been stocked well with plenty of wine. Arbor gold, Dornish red, even Summerwine. We decided to liberate some bottles, and proceeded to get awfully drunk." Catelyn giggled at the thought; the last time she saw Ned drunk was five years ago, when Robb saw his tenth nameday. The children had been sent to bed and Ned decided to drink a little bit more with his lords. Bran was only three then, and Rickon not yet conceived. That night Ned stumbled into her bed chambers and took his clothes off, and before long they were making passionate love to each other. That was only the second time Catelyn saw her husband drunk; the first time was the night that she was certain he had gotten her pregnant with Sansa.

"I would say that I could never see you drunk Ned, but that would be wrong," she told him with a smile. Ned looked back at her and gave her a warm smile.

"The next morning, Robert and I staggered into the great hall just as they were serving breakfast," Ned continued. "Bacon does not smell half as good as when you are suffering from having drunk too much the night before. Anyway, the servants are all being quiet as they go about their duties, while the guards are muttering to themselves and quietly laughing while pointing at us. Ten minutes later Jon walks in and just sits down across from us, looking at us with his usual stern face. Robert looks at me and I just know that we are in for it." Ned walked over to the bed and sat down beside Catelyn. "He looks from me to Robert and just leans back in his chair, his arms folded. After a minute I go to take a bite of my food, and then Jon whispers to us, "Are you alright lads?" We both just look up at him and nod our heads in answer. But then Jon shakes his head, leans forward, and as loud as possible he shouts, "I'M BLOODY SURPRISED THAT YOU'RE BOTH FINE AFTER RAIDING MY CELLAR!" and Robert and I both clutch our ears as pain shoots through us." Ned begins to laugh at the fond memory, and Catelyn joins him in his laughter.

"I find it somewhat ridiculous that you would ever get up to mischief," she said after she stopped laughing. Ned smiled at her and leaned back a little bit.

"Where do you think our children get their mischievous streak from?" he asked her. "You've always been well behaved from what I know." Catelyn smiled as she leaned against Ned, resting her head on his shoulder. A moment later she feels his arm wrapping around her back, his hand clutching her side. The feel of his hand was relaxing, soothing even.

"I haven't always been well behaved," she told him as she got comfortable. "When I was still a little girl my father had to get a septa to sit with me at meal times. You know Sansa gets her fondness of lemon cakes from me. Well I used to gorge myself on them at every opportunity, even refusing to eat properly unless I knew that there were lemon cakes to be served after. Sometimes I even snuck into the kitchens to steal one or two for myself." Ned chuckled as she spoke.

"You, stealing cakes? Gods be good Cat, it sounds like you are telling me about some stranger." Catelyn laughed slightly before she continued.

"After a while it was becoming rather obvious that I was having a lot more than my fair share of lemon cakes. I think the size of my belly was giving it away," she said with a giggle. "So after a long time my father had people watch me wherever I went, and the staff soon reported that they saw me stealing cakes and eating more than I should've had. So after giving me a stern talking to, or as stern as was possible for my father when it came to dealing with me, every meal I spent in the company of a septa, from that day until after my... must have been my sixteenth nameday by the time my septa stopped sitting with me at every meal." Ned chuckled as he pulled Catelyn closer to him, rubbing his hand up and down her side.

"Was that the only time you have ever misbehaved Cat?" he asked her after pressing a kiss to her forehead. Catelyn looked up at him and smiled.

"Not the only time," she admitted before kissing him back.

The two of them climbed into the bed properly before they continued to talk about their more fond childhood memories. They spoke for a long time before falling silent and trying to drift off to sleep. Catelyn lay with her head against Ned's chest, her eyes open as she thought about her family. She wondered how Robb was doing over in the Westerlands, hoping that he was safe and not taking too many risks. He has his father's mindset, she thought. He spends time with his men and their heirs, and fights alongside them in the thick of battle. Catelyn remembered the feelings of anxiety and dread she felt during the Humbling, wondering if Robb would be fine or if he would be killed. She remembered the relief she felt when Robb rode back to her, his armour drenched in blood from the battle and being followed by a cart with a captive Tywin Lannister in it. She then thought of her girls. Sansa spent as much time with her grandfather as she could, often sewing while sitting beside him and occasionally talking with him. Arya spent time with him as well, and would ask him endless questions during his more lucid moments. Catelyn was grateful when her girls came back to her, crying tears of joy at having them back in her arms, and was pleased that they seemed to no longer be fighting each other. She was even happy that they both spent time with Nymeria as well. Despite her relief and joy she was most worried for Arya. She should never have had to kill that stable boy, Catelyn thought. Ever since coming back to me she seems like a completely different person. She spends most of her time alone or with Jon in that room, practising her swordsmanship. She started to think about Bran and Rickon, wondering how they were coping without her. Rickon would be four now, and probably still running around Winterfell with wild abandon. Bran would hopefully be on his feet again, though still using a cane to get around. He hasn't seen me since his fall, she realised. He woke up while I was away from home. He probably resents me for leaving him like that. Now Catelyn found herself thinking about Jon.

Catelyn found it strange to deal with Jon now that she knows who he really is. She never truly hated him, but she never liked him being near her children. She still felt some bitterness towards Ned for keeping his secret for so long but she could now forgive him fully, now that she knows the reason why he kept quiet about Jon. All this time she has resented Ned, and Jon to a degree, but thinking it over she now resents herself more. Ned kept his sister's secret for years, keeping Jon safe from Robert and the Lannisters. He sacrificed his own honour for his nephew, his blood. And I've been nothing but horrible to him his whole life. Before she knew it she felt tears running down her cheeks, and she began to cry.

"Cat?" Ned spoke softly. Catelyn lifted herself up from Ned's chest as he sat up and rolled onto his side. "What's the matter?" he asked as he cupped her cheek.

"I'm such an awful woman," she said in a quiet voice, closing her eyes as Ned pulled her closer to him. She wept quietly into his chest, her tears falling onto his skin. "I can't forgive myself Ned. I can't forgive myself for how I treated Jon." She heard Ned sigh as his hold on her tightened. "All his life I looked down on him, avoided him as much as possible. I've been cruel to him."

"No," Ned said. "No Cat, you haven't been cruel to him. Despite the circumstances you have not been cruel at all. You have not been kind, but you were never cruel." Those words made Catelyn tear up even more. She wrapped her arms around her husband and buried her face into his shoulder, trying to calm herself before she spoke again.

"About ten years ago, Jon found himself in front of me after I caught him up to no good," she said. "I cannot remember what he had done, some childish prank no doubt. But I scolded him harshly. He began to cry, and as he did he asked me why can't I be his mother. I was so angry at that. That he would think a highborn woman like myself would ever let a bastard-born child call them mother. I snapped at him, telling him, "You must never call me that bastard. I am not, and never shall, be your mother." I told him that as he wept after my telling him off." Catelyn's tears ran down her cheeks like a torrent, leaking onto Ned's shoulder. His grip slackened slightly before he gently pushed her back and cupped both of her cheeks, lifting her face up to look into her eyes.

"That was cold," he said. "But that does not make you an awful woman." Catelyn looked into Ned's eyes and saw the pain in them.

"Yes it does Ned," she said. Ned ran his thumb over her lips then.

"No, it doesn't. You said it yourself that you would have been kinder to Jon if you had known the truth about him. All of this is my fault." Catelyn scoffed at that.

"I chose to use those words Ned," she said quietly.

"And you wouldn't have used them if you knew the truth back then," he countered. Catelyn wanted to argue that, but found that she could not. "I am as much to blame as you. I could have told you and to hell with the consequences, but I chose to be quiet on the matter and refuse to speak of it to you. I regret causing you pain Cat, but we can't undo the past. All we can do is move on." Catelyn looked at Ned and nodded her head, wiping her hands over her face. Ned pulled her closer to him and kissed her on the lips.

They sat like that for a short while, kissing their lips as they held onto each other. Ned had one hand on her face and the other travelled down to her side, the fingers stroking the silk of her gown. Catelyn had her hands on his body, her fingers splayed through the hairs on his chest. Their kisses deepened, and before long Ned had pulled Catelyn onto his lap. She felt his manhood bulging through his breeches against the back of her thigh, and after a minute she slid her hands down his chest to the laces of his breeches. As she unlaced them Ned brought both of his hands down to the bottom of her gown, and when Catelyn was done unlacing him Ned pulled her gown up over her body. He threw the silk to the side as Catelyn lifted herself off of Ned's lap, allowing him to pull his breeches off. She helped him to take them off, and when his legs were free she stroked her hand up the inside of his thigh before grabbing his manhood and stroking him gently. Ned grabbed her breasts and squeezed her gently, making her moan softly as his fingertips worked against her skin. Ned groaned as Catelyn stroked his member slowly, feeling him harden even more. Eventually Ned pulled her onto his lap again, and soon she felt him enter her womanhood. Catelyn gasped at the presence of his member pushing against her inner walls, but Ned quickly silenced her with his lips, kissing her slowly as he brought one hand to the back of her head, his fingers brushing through her auburn hair. She felt her hair being wound around his fingers before he tugged his hand down, pulling her head back and exposing her throat to him. Catelyn gasped out in slight shock at the very slight nip of pain on her head before she moaned in pleasure upon feeling first Ned's beard and then his lips and finally his tongue against the soft skin on her throat.

Catelyn moaned and gasped quietly as Ned kissed and licked her neck, her body quivering as she felt Ned pushing himself slowly up into her. Another gasp escaped her mouth then as Ned pulled back and thrust up again. That same pattern continued for a couple of minutes before Catelyn felt Ned lifting them up from the bed. A moment later she felt her back being pressed into the soft bed beneath her, and then Ned lay above her, his eyes boring into hers as he began to thrust at a slow, regular rhythm. She felt her walls getting wetter with every thrust from Ned as she felt more and more aroused with their lovemaking.

"Cat," Ned groaned out as he leant down and kissed her on the lips, pushing his tongue against her closed mouth. She opened to allow him in and soon their tongues danced in her mouth as Ned thrust more and more, driving Catelyn wild with lust. She giggled when Ned's tongue licked the roof of her mouth, before tearing her mouth away from Ned's and gasping for breath.

"Oh Ned," she moaned softly as she felt him thrust hard into her. They held each other close as Ned's thrusts increased in speed to the point that he was pounding her. By that point Catelyn felt incredibly wet, and every movement from her husband brought pure pleasure to her. "Don't stop, please don't stop," she begged him as she buried her face into his shoulder. After a couple more thrusts she bit down on Ned's shoulder as she felt herself tighten around his member. She wrapped her arms around his back, all but digging her nails into him as she brought her legs up and wrapped them around his waist. Now every thrust was more intense. Ned growled out as his pace increased even more, and Catelyn only felt wave after wave of pleasure washing over her before she felt an intense ache between her legs giving way to a wonderful feeling as she came crashing down to her end, soaking Ned's manhood with her arousal as she gave a muffled cry of bliss.

"Bloody hells Cat," Ned growled out as he came to his end, his seed flooding into her as her walls clamped shut around him. After his last twitch Ned all but collapsed onto her before rolling them onto their sides. They stayed like that for a long time, breathing heavily as they kept a tight hold onto each other. "I love you Cat," Ned whispered into her ear, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

"I love you too Ned," she whispered back breathlessly as she pulled her head back and kissed her husband.

After laying entwined for a long time Ned and Catelyn pulled apart and finally fell asleep in each other's arms. Catelyn enjoyed a long dreamless sleep this time; no nightmares of Jon murdering her, or of Ned being killed, or of any of her family coming to harm. When Catelyn woke up the next morning it was to a dull ache between her thighs. She brought her hand down and gently stroked her fingers through the hairs above her entrance before stroking the tips of her fingers against herself, feeling that she was still moist down there. Catelyn smiled to herself as she slowly rose from the bed, only to feel a pair of hands grab her arms.

"And where do you think you're off to?" Ned said to her in a playful tone. Catelyn looked over her shoulder and smiled at him before laying back down beside him.

"To get changed," she answered. "We have a long walk up the Giant's Lance today." Ned rolled himself on top of her, looking down at her.

"Well, we have plenty of time I think," he said before kissing her.

Nearly two hours later the sun was high up in the sky when both Ned and Catelyn walked outside the castle. Their escort were all prepared for the long journey up through the waycastles that guarded the path up to the Eyrie. It would be late in the day before they entered the summer residence of the Arryns, and the road was long and treacherous from what Catelyn remembered. As she looked up to the ancient castle she heard the sound of approaching footsteps off to her left. Turning around she saw Mya Stone walking to her, her short black hair looking an inch or two longer than before. Her deep blue eyes were wide and alert, and a smile graced her face. The young woman who had helped Catelyn on her walk up to the Eyrie the last time that she was here gave her a respectful curtsey, or rather an attempt at one.

"Your grace," she greeted her. "Last time we spoke you were still just Lady Stark. It seems your lot has somewhat improved since then." Catelyn smiled at the woman as she spoke.

"Mya Stone, a pleasure to see you again," she replied. "I trust you'll be helping us up the Giant's Lance?"

"Of course my queen," Mya responded. "'Tis my job after all. Plus I need to get some supplies up to the Eyrie anyway. Does Lady Arryn know that you're here?" Catelyn sighed slightly before looking up at the Eyrie again.

"She probably does now," she muttered. Just then Ned stood beside her, grabbing her hand.

"Are you well Cat?" he spoke quietly, brushing his lips against her ear. Catelyn smiled at him as she faced him.

"Quite," she said before stepping back to let Ned see Mya. "Ned, this is Mya Stone. She's the one who helped me up the path when I was here last time. Mya, this is my husband, King Eddard Stark." Mya looked at Ned with wide eyes before attempting another curtsey.

"Your grace, a pleasure to meet you," she stuttered. "I have heard many great things about you over the years from Lord Nestor Royce." Catelyn looked back at Ned and saw that his own eyes were slightly wide, but soon he nodded his head and spoke to her.

"I'm sure Nestor has told you of some of my more childish antics from when I was a boy being fostered here?" Mya chuckled slightly.

"Oh not at all your grace," she replied. "If you don't mind your grace I have to see to my mules before we start our journey. By your leave." Mya gave a little bow before walking away to her mules. When Catelyn looked back at Ned she saw that he had a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"What is it?" she asked. Ned looked down at her and sighed.

"Do you know who she is?" he asked her. Catelyn shook her head in answer. "That young woman is Robert's eldest child. His first daughter, sired three years before the rebellion. Robert used to care for her before we rode off to fight the Targaryens, but after that I never knew what became of her." Catelyn looked towards the back of the woman who walked away from them, surprised that she did not see it sooner. Mya had indeed looked familiar, but Catelyn just could not think of who she was related to.

"Does she know about her father?" she asked Ned, who sighed before responding.

"I don't know Cat," he said. "I'll speak to her about it once we have spoken to Lysa."

As she expected it took most of the day to ascend the Giant's Lance. When they entered the Crescent Chamber, Catelyn was grateful to receive food and drink from the staff there. Ned stood next to her, eating from the same plate as her, while Lord Yohn and Lady Waynwood organised their men. There were a few dozen men so far, more than enough to match any guards inside the Eyrie. Ned did not think that it would come to violence, but he decided not to take any chances. When Catelyn asked why Ned insisted on the extra guard he simply stated that after his arrest in King's Landing he wanted the reassurance of having men that he knows he can trust. She thought it strange, even silly, as they were only going to see her sister but she said nothing else about it, although the look on Theon's face suggested that he was of the same mind as her. After half an hour Catelyn followed Ned, Theon, Lord Yohn and Lady Waynwood as they entered the High Hall, where the weirwood throne of the Arryns was found. There were some household knights at the far end, and sat on a seat next to the Arryns throne was Lysa. Lysa looked fearful, as if she was expecting the Stranger himself to take her. Her hair was a mess and her eyes looked tired, and seemed to be red. Has she been crying? Catelyn wondered. When they were close enough Ned held his hand up to command them to stop.

"Lady Lysa Arryn," Ned began. "I am here to ask if the Vale of Arryn will stand firm alongside their allies from the North and the Riverlands. Tell me where is Lord Robert Arryn?" Lysa looked up at Ned and glared at him.

"You will not take him Stark," she hissed. Catelyn was quite shocked at her younger sister's tone. "I won't let you take my Sweetrobin, I won't! You are not welcome here!"

"My lady, I only wish to speak to him, not as a King who wants his allegiance, but as an uncle who has never met his nephew," Ned said in a kinder voice, his tone soft. Catelyn stepped closer to her husband and took his arm.

"Lysa," she said trying not to sound as unsure as she felt. Lysa was a bit more livelier than this the last time she was here; now she seemed withdrawn, nervous, even panicky. "Sister please, we only need to see Robert, nothing more. We can talk about fostering him once we have assurance that all of the Vale will march with us against the Lannisters." Lysa stood up from her seat sharply, her eyes full of anger.

"How dare you!" she shouted. "I told you before Cat, yes I did! You will not touch Sweetrobin or I'll have you hanged! Guards!" The knights sworn to Lysa moved as one, half-drawing their swords. Catelyn noticed at least one or two were hesitant at following their lady's command. Behind her Catelyn heard the Vale knights under Lord Yohn and Lady Waynwood drawing their own swords, and some of the Northmen had their swords out too. Ned raised his hand and pointed at one of the knights sworn to Lysa.

"You there," he spoke, his voice hard. "Did you serve under Lord Jon Arryn at the battle of the Trident?" The knight in question, who looked older than Ned, nodded his head.

"I did indeed your grace," the knight said. "I even remember when you were still second in line to Winterfell, and were fostered here by Lord Arryn alongside King Robert when he was still just Lord Robert." Catelyn looked back at Ned and saw the very slight smile that disappeared quickly.

"How do you think Lord Jon would react to his widow threatening both his former ward and her own sister with execution?" Ned asked him. The knight stood straighter before sheathing his sword.

"Not very well," he said before turning to look at Lysa. "My Lady Arryn, King Eddard comes here under a banner of peace to secure House Arryn's fealty during this war. He means no harm to our lord, nor does he wish ill upon you. And threatening to execute your sister is not wise. Kinslaying is unforgivable my lady." The knight had spoken with a pleading tone and Lysa looked at the knight sternly before she sank back down in her seat, her head hung. The other knights sheathed their blades, as did everyone else.

"Leave us sers," she said, her voice weak. The household knights walked away then, leaving Lysa unguarded. Ned turned to face Lord Yohn.

"Have your knights stand down my lord," he commanded, speaking with his lord's voice. As Lord Yohn commanded his men to stand down Ned and Catelyn walked over to Lysa, their own Northern guards keeping a respectful distance. Catelyn knelt down in front of Lysa, taking her hands in her own while Ned stood beside them. Looking up at her sister she saw tears streaking her face.

"You must think me a pathetic fool Cat," Lysa whispered. "I'm a terrible mother. I tried Cat, gods I tried, but it's just too much." Lysa wiped a hand over her eyes as her voice broke. "Everything I have done I did for my son. My Sweetrobin. I can't have him taken from me Cat. I lost all of my other babies, it would kill me if you take my boy." Catelyn felt her heart breaking for her sister. The stress of everything has taken its toll upon her, she reasoned.

"Oh Lysa, come here," she said as she pulled her sister into an embrace. "Hush now little sister. Everything will be alright."

"No it won't Cat," Lysa said. "The Lords of the Vale despise me. They think me weak and foolish. They want to take Sweetrobin away from me. Please don't let them, you mustn't let them!" Lysa became hysterical as she wept, and it took Catelyn a lot of patience to calm her down. Looking over her shoulder she saw Lord Yohn with his son Ser Andar and some of their guards talking with Lady Waynwood and a couple of other Vale knights. None of them were paying attention to their conversation. "Cersei has spread lies about me and Petyr," Lysa said then, drawing Catelyn's attention back to her. "She claims that I murdered Jon and has sent word to the Vale lords. Now they are questioning me every day, plotting to remove me and Sweetrobin, I know it." Her voice was suddenly hard as she spoke. Catelyn looked up at Ned and saw him looking down at Lysa sternly before he looked back at Catelyn.

"Cat, take Lysa back to her son and try to calm her down," he said. "I'll speak to Lord Royce and Lady Waynwood about this allegation from Cersei." Catelyn wanted to ask Ned to come with her but she knew that he had to speak with them first. If what Lysa said was true then Ned needed to know more about the lies that Cersei was spreading, and Lysa was in no fit state to tell them much just now. Catelyn nodded her head as she stood up.

"Okay Ned. Do you think the Vale lords might believe Cersei's lies?" she asked quietly. Ned sighed as he put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"It's possible that they will believe it," he said. "Even if they don't it is still a serious allegation that will need to be looked into. I'll speak with them and see what they think of it, and we can decide how to deal with it later. For now though Lysa needs to calm down, and right now you're the best person to try that." Catelyn sighed as she leaned into him and embraced him.

"Very well Ned," she said. Ned kissed her on the forehead briefly before letting her go. They held their hands for a moment before Ned wandered off to speak with Lord Yohn and the rest. Catelyn meanwhile turned to look at Lysa who was looking at the Vale lords with a passive expression. "Come on Lysa, let's go and see Sweetrobin," she said.

Catelyn and Lysa walked out of the High Hall and made their way to Robert's bed chambers in the Moon Tower, with three Northern guardsmen and four household knights following them. Their walk was slow, and Catelyn spent the time talking with Lysa, trying her best to calm her down as they neared Robert's room. They spoke of happier times, before Robert's Rebellion. They spoke of their childhood at Riverrun, remembering making mud pies which Petyr ate (and wound up falling ill as a result of eating them), remembering swimming in the rivers outside the castle when they were little girls, remembering practising kissing with Petyr. Fond memories that made Catelyn miss her childhood more than she thought. For just a few moments she could remember how it felt to be innocent all over again, back before the realities of life weighed down upon them.

"Life was so much simpler back then," Lysa said with a little laugh. "Back before the rebellion, all that mattered to us was having fun and enjoying ourselves while trying not to displease father." Catelyn smiled slightly as she remembered the few times their father scolded her.

"You always ran off and hid whenever we got caught doing mischief," she reminded Lysa, who just laughed some more.

"Well what did you expect, I was always terrified of father when he got angry, even when he wasn't angry with me," she said. "Still, the mud pies will always make me laugh. Ah, poor Petyr. I felt terrible you know, when he was ill over that. He was always so..." Lysa trailed off then, and Catelyn noticed that her face had become more serious.

"Lysa?" she said, a little bit worried that she was remembering a troubling memory. "Lysa what is it?" Lysa looked at her with a cold look in her eyes, a look that sent a shiver up her back.

"I always loved him Cat," she whispered. "I have always loved him even when he claimed to love you. He was..." She hesitated for a moment, a single tear running down her cheek, before she continued. "He took my maidenhead." The admission shocked Catelyn. She never thought that Lysa would ever say something like that even as a jape, but looking at her made it quite clear that she spoke truthfully. "That night, after father announced that you were to wed Brandon Stark, Petyr got drunk after you rejected him and laughed when he tried kissing you after you had shared a dance together. After he was taken to bed I climbed into his bed and we... we made love together. He took me gently, moving so slowly. It felt good." Lysa had a smile on her lips then. "He told me that he loved me again and again, right up until he spilt his seed into me. Even when he mumbled your name I thought nothing of it. I loved him. I still do." Lysa wiped the tear from her cheek and sniffled. "I slept with him until sunrise. I was so happy. We did not share a bed again until after his duel with Brandon. I was so angry at Brandon, and you, when Petyr lay there hurt. I thought that he would die, but he didn't. I helped to nurse him, and during the fortnight after the duel he took me again. I fell pregnant afterwards."

"What?" Catelyn gasped, the confession shocking her more than she already was. Lysa looked at her with sad eyes.

"After father sent Petyr back to the Vale I told him that I was pregnant, hoping that he would call Petyr back and let me marry him," she continued. "But I was wrong. Instead father made me drink moon tea. He made me kill my child. Petyr's child." The tears returned then and Lysa brought her hands up to her face. Catelyn held her sister as she wept again.

"Hush Lysa," she said as she rubbed her hands up and down her back.

"I hate him," Lysa said as she sobbed. "I hate father for making me kill my child. I'll never forgive him for taking away my happiness. That day, when you let me hold Robb after you birthed him, it was too much for me. Not just because you had fallen pregnant and I did not, but because you got to birth your first child whereas I did not. It hurt so much." Catelyn felt tears forming in her eyes then at her sister's sorrow, the admission of what her father had done causing her pain.

Lysa continued to weep while Catelyn did her best to comfort her. They stood there for a good few minutes until Lysa finally calmed down enough, then they started to walk again. They entered the Moon Tower ten minutes later and began to climb the steps, their guards further behind. As they walked Catelyn spoke to Lysa about fostering Robert.

"Why are you so opposed to Robert being fostered Lysa?" she asked. Lysa looked at Catelyn then, her eyes hard for only a moment before softening.

"You have birthed healthy children every time without any problems," she answered. "Robert was the only child of mine to survive birth. Every other child that Jon put into me was either stillborn or a miscarriage. I have endured so much pain that when I finally had Sweetrobin I just could not allow him to be taken away from me. He needs me, and I need him." Lysa looked down at the floor as they walked into the hallway. "I know I sound selfish saying that, but that is how I feel." Catelyn looked at Lysa as they walked, letting her sister guide them. After a moment of silence Lysa looked back at Catelyn with a pained look in her eyes. "I'm sorry for threatening you Cat, I really am. I just... I don't know what to do anymore." Catelyn took Lysa's hand in hers and squeezed her gently.

"Both of you should come with me to Winterfell," she told her. "You need a change from the Eyrie. You can relax at Winterfell with us, and we can let Robert play with his cousins while you are both there." Lysa looked stunned at that.

"But Cat, who will govern the Vale?" she asked.

"Nestor Royce has ruled as High Steward of the Vale for many years has he not?" Lysa nodded in answer. "If he is willing he can rule for longer until Robert comes of age, then Robert can return to the Eyrie as a man grown." Catelyn gave Lysa an encouraging smile as she took both of her sister's hands in her own. "And then Robert will have a pretty wife of his own to give you little grandchildren to fuss over, perhaps a Northern girl or someone from home. Lord Bracken's daughters will have girls of their own at some point, and Lord Brynden Blackwood has a sister only a year or two older than Robert. Or maybe a daughter of the Vale to keep the Vale lords happy." Talking of grandchildren and Robert being a man grown and married seemed to make Lysa happier. She smiled again, a full smile that reminded Catelyn of her sister when she was still a timid, slender, delicate girl with dimples and always falling into fits of giggles and prone to tongue-tied silences.

"That... that sounds lovely," she said before taking a deep breath. "Yes. We'll speak to Robert and declare fealty to your husband, and then we'll travel with you to Winterfell. It will do us all some good I think." Catelyn felt a small amount of pride as she watched her little sister standing with her back straight and a fierce resolve burning in her eyes. It was almost as if she had come alive again.

The two of them continued to walk along the hallway towards Robert's room, their guards close behind them. As they rounded a corner they saw a household knight at the opposite end walking away and rounding the corner over there. Lysa huffed in annoyance at that before shouting down the hall.

"Who is watching the door to the Lord's bed-chamber!" she yelled. Catelyn shook her head slightly, a small smirk on her face as Lysa stormed off to the door to her son's room. "Robin?" she called through the door. "It's your mother sweetheart. I've brought your Aunt Cat with me. She's with your Uncle Ned to take us to see your cousins." Lysa let Catelyn and the guards catch up to her before she opened the door, a wide smile on her face. "We are going to go and pledge our allegiance to your uncle, who is a King now, and then we..." Lysa's voice trailed off as she opened the door fully, and her eyes widened with horror. Catelyn stared at her sister, her heart hammering in her chest as Lysa shrieked loudly. "NOOOOOO! NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOO! ROBERRRRTTT!" Lysa ran into the room stumbling over her skirt. Catelyn rushed after her and stopped dead at the door, her heart feeling like it would burst.

"Oh gods," she gasped as she felt her eyes water. Little Robert lay on the ground in the middle of his room, his skin deathly pale and his big eyes wide open and devoid of all life. Along his throat was a deep red gash from one side to the next; the top of his shirt was stained dark red and a pool of blood had formed beneath him. A bloodstained dagger lay not far from him.

"No please, gods please let this be a nightmare, please," Lysa begged as tears streaked her face. She had fallen to her knees and was rocking back and forth as she looked down at her son's lifeless body. Catelyn felt like she was going to be sick just looking at her nephew like that. She staggered into the room, feeling light headed as she got closer to her dead nephew and her heartbroken sister. The guards behind her gasped in shock at the sight.

"My Queen?" one of them said. Catelyn turned to face him. The men looked as sick as she felt, their eyes full of shock or outright horror. The man who spoke looked only at her, keeping his eyes locked with hers. "That knight you saw? Do you think..." he trailed off, but Catelyn knew what he meant. That knight was leaving the room. Could he have... yes, it makes sense, she thought.

"Go and seize him at once," she commanded before pointing at the others. "You three," she said pointing to the Vale knights, "and you," pointing to one of the other Northmen, "go and help arrest that man. You two stay with us." One knight and one Northman stood in the room as the rest ran off to catch the murderer. As they left Catelyn looked back at Lysa who was now leaning over Robert's body.

"Please, please, please, please," she whispered. "Gods please, don't let this be my punishment, please. I'll do anything, please."

"Lysa," Catelyn said with a shuddering breath as she knelt down by Robert's feet. "Lysa, I'm so sorry." Tears fell from Catelyn's eyes as she saw her sister looking down at her son's body.

"Please," Lysa whispered again. She sat up and brought her fingers up to her face, crying loudly. "It's my fault," she said as her fingertips dug into her skin, drawing blood. "It's all my fault Cat." Catelyn looked up at Lysa, but before she could speak Lysa wailed loudly. As she did she raked her fingers down her face, drawing blood from her brow as she raked her nails over her cheeks and down to her jaw. "WWHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYY!?" she screamed to the ceiling. "WHY MY SON? WHY NOT TAKE ME? MY SON WAS INNOCENT! HE WAS GOOD AND SWEET! I'M THE ONE TO BE PUNISHED NOT HIM! I KILLED HIS FATHER AND STARTED THIS WAR NOT HIM! YOU SHOULD'VE TAKEN ME! DAMN YOU ALL!" Catelyn gasped as she registered what Lysa was saying.

"L... Lysa?" she mumbled. Lysa looked down at the floor and reached for the dagger. "Lysa!" Catelyn yelled jumping back as her sister picked up the dagger. Lysa looked back at the ceiling, blood and tears trailing down her face.

"DAMN YOU ALL! ALL SEVEN OF YOU! DAMN YOU ALL TO YOUR SEVEN FUCKING HELLS! YOU SHOULD'VE TAKEN ME! NOT MY SON! NOT MY SON! NOT MY SSOOOOOOONNNNN!" Catelyn stood up to her feet just as Lysa was doing the same.

"Lysa," she said through her tears, reaching out to her.

"My Queen!" one of the two men behind her spoke. Catelyn heard footsteps behind her before a pair of arms pulled her back.

"No, let go," she commanded weakly. The household knight stepped forward from her left then, his sword arm held out to Lysa.

"Lady Arryn, give me the dagger please," he spoke fearfully. Lysa looked at her sister, and Catelyn saw that the fire that had burned in her eyes earlier was gone; Lysa's eyes were as lifeless as her son's.

"No, Lysa don't," Catelyn said as she struggled out of the guardsman's grasp.

"Your grace!" the man yelled, drawing the knight's attention. The guardsman grabbed her right arm while the knight stepped forward and took Catelyn's left arm.

"Both of you let me go," she ordered them, but neither one did.

"I'm sorry Cat," Lysa spoke quietly. Catelyn stopped struggling then as she looked at her little sister. In that moment she saw the timid little girl who used to hide from their father when she was in trouble. She did not see the thick bodied woman who looked older than Catelyn was; she saw sweet little giggling Lysa. "I poisoned Jon," she admitted, her voice hoarse. "He was going to send our son to foster with Lord Stannis. Petyr gave me a poison to kill Jon, and that's what I did. But then King Robert wanted to foster my son with Tywin Lannister, so I fled. It was Petyr who suggested that I write to you and blame the Lannisters." Catelyn was stunned by her sister's confession; she not only confessed to murder but also to laying the seeds for the war that was tearing the realm apart now. Both of the men holding her had let her go now, but Catelyn was too shocked to do anything.

"Lysa," she murmured, bringing a hand to her mouth as tears leaked over her face.

"Because of me, your Bran was nearly killed," Lysa continued as blood dripped from her chin. "Because of me, your girls were exposed to that stinking cesspit. Because of me, your Ned was almost killed as his men were slaughtered by the Lannisters." Lysa looked down at the dagger she held in her hands. "This is my punishment," she said, her voice broken. "The gods have taken the one joy from my life, just as father did. I have nothing left to live for." She held the hilt of the dagger in both hands as she raised it up in front of her chest, the blade pointed down. "Forgive me Cat," she said as she moved her arms down.

"NO!" Catelyn screamed as Lysa stabbed herself in the belly, the blade cutting through the dress that she wore. Blood flowered from the wound as she pulled the dagger free, but as the stain grew Lysa plunged the dagger back down into her belly. Again she pulled the dagger free and stabbed herself.

And again.

And again.

And again.

"LYYYSSSAAAAAAAA!" Catelyn screamed as she fell to her knees, watching as her sister stabbed herself repeatedly before finally falling down beside her son. Catelyn was too stunned to do anything but watch as her sister struggled to reach Robert's body with her arms. Lysa tried to pull her son to her as blood fountained out of her ruptured belly. The knight wandered over and kicked the dagger away from them.

"Your grace?" the guardsman spoke, though his voice sounded faint and distant. Catelyn watched as Lysa looked at Robert and mouthed a song to him. She heard her little sister's voice as she sung, and the room began to spin. Before long Catelyn was looking up at the ceiling, and everything went dark.

When Catelyn opened her eyes her vision was blurry. The room was well lit, and there were people in the room with her. Her throat felt dry, and her head heavy. She tried to move but was held down by someone. Her vision slowly improved, and she saw Maester Colemon looking down at her, his eyes full of relief.

"She is awake your grace," he said before stepping away from her bedside. Catelyn looked to the opposite side and saw Ned standing over her.

"Hey," he said softly as he sat down beside her. Catelyn tried to sit up, and regretted the attempt to move almost immediately.

"Ned," she rasped, her throat in pain.

"Drink this your grace," Colemon said as he held out a cup to her. Catelyn drank the foul tasting medicine which she was certain made her throat feel worse when she consumed it. She gave the cup back to Colemon before looking back at Ned.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked after a minute.

"Only a day my love," he told her. "The two men who were with you said that you fainted and struck your head on the floor."

"The medicine I gave you should deal with any pains that you feel in your head your grace," Colemon said. "However if you feel anymore pain you must let me know at once." Catelyn nodded her head in response to him. "I shall leave you both alone for now." As the Maester left the room Ned helped Catelyn to sit up properly. When she was upright she looked at her husband who looked like he had not slept a wink.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him. Ned sighed as he grasped her hand.

"Still in shock Cat," he said. "Those two men who were with you told me everything that happened in there. About Lysa's confession." Mentioning Lysa made Catelyn's throat constrict as the pain of watching her commit suicide came back to her. She looked down at the bed that she was in. "We are in the guest rooms. I didn't think it appropriate to have us sleep in the Moon Tower." Catelyn nodded her head.

"Lysa said it was all her fault," she finally said. "She said she poisoned Jon Arryn and blamed the Lannisters at Petyr's suggestion." She felt Ned putting his hand on her shoulder and rub her soothingly.

"The men you sent after that knight caught up to him," he said. "They saw blood on him and found a letter. The letter had his instructions, which were to kill Robert and then to kill Lysa afterwards. There was no name on the letter so we questioned the killer, who then confessed that his father had given him his orders. Orders sent by Petyr Baelish." Hearing Ned say Petyr's name made Catelyn feel a sudden surge of anger and hatred that she did not think she was capable of.

"Petyr," she spat out as if the name were poison. "Lysa killed her husband, but Petyr poisoned her mind. I want him dead Ned." She looked at him and saw the stunned expression on his face. "The boy I once loved as a brother is dead to me. The man is a stranger who has brought harm to my family. I want him dead." Ned nodded his head to her.

"We'll find him, wherever he has disappeared off to, and I will bring justice down upon him. I promise you Cat." Catelyn nodded her head at her husband's reassurance. After a moment she felt Ned sitting down beside her on the bed and wrap his arms around her. She returned the embrace and began to cry.

"Don't leave me tonight Ned," she said through her tears. "Don't let go."

"Never Cat," he replied as he tightened his grip on her.

---

Author's Note: This chapter was very difficult for me to write. It took me an entire day to get Catelyn's POV written up, and it got edited to hell until I was fine with what I wrote. And I will admit I did cry a wee bit when I read over that whole sequence from discovering Robert's body to Lysa's suicide.

Next chapter will be up soon, and all I'll say is I'm on a roll for being a right bastard.