Jon

"Lord Corbray has been abandoned by the sword of his fathers because he has abandoned the Faith of his fathers!" roared the ragged septon to the crowd of onlookers. "He has forsaken the Faith as it was handed down to us from our ancestors for the lies that come forth from King's Landing! This is why Lord Arryn's campaigns fail! He cloaks himself in holiness and his descent from our Sacred Forebears, but he has taken to wife yet another daughter of the First Men, the very savages he now makes war on!" The Lord of the Eyrie halted his horse and stared intently at the pious fool making the speech. The man stopped dead when he saw him, words catching in his throat. Jon studied his face, making sure he remembered every feature, and then rode on. He would mention it to Lord Shett when he entered the city. The Lord of the Gull Tower was of First Men stock and took great exception to septon Janos' preachers spewing their nonsense in the lands he had sworn to defend.

Jon sighed. Septon Janos had been useful at first, full throated in his support for Jon's decision to make war on the Mountain Clans. But as time went on it had become clear that giving him a free hand had been a mistake. Like many in the Vale, the septon was as zealous about his Andal heritage as he was about his faith, which he claimed was pure and unadulterated for having been unsullied by the lies of the Valyrians and the First Men. Jon admitted he had never quite understood how the Seven could truly be One in the way the Eyrie's chaplain had described, but he still thought Janos went too far in claiming only the Father was God. It was this very same doubt of the septon that was beginning to prove costly, however. As the war effort began to encounter obstacles, what had started as organizing wagon caravans to protect travelling smallfolk had turned to condemnation of Lord Arryn for not adhering to Janos' own peculiar doctrines.

And the war effort was encountering serious obstacles. Lord Lyonel losing his family's Valyrian sword was just the latest. He had been told the Mountain Clans were only able to field three thousand men, but in the rugged terrain of the Mountains of the Moon, hiding in caves and relying on ambush, they had proven able to bleed and defeat forces far larger than their own. He had been fighting the Mountain Clans all his life, and he knew they were tenacious, but something was wrong. They seemed to have a much better understanding of the Vale lords' tactics than they had previously, the knights they wounded would often die in agony of poisons that had never been seen before, and their blades themselves were now made of well-crafted steel. Castle forged steel. He knew he needed to get to the bottom of this, and that's why he found himself entering the city of Gulltown.

That, and he needed another loan. The Hunters were a good family with productive lands, and though it had seemed like a necessity to set Lysa aside for a bride from the Vale, Lord Eon had still been grateful enough to provide him with funds to help finance the campaign. But that hadn't lasted. Old Lord Hunter had died and his son Gilwood was a sot who was running his family's holdings into the ground. A house divided against itself cannot stand, he thought, remembering Lord Baelish's quotation of some shepherd's proverb from the Far East. He did not relish returning to speak with Janyce about potential matches for their daughter.

The city itself was bustling, as had become the norm in recent years. It was nothing like the Gulltown Lord Arryn had known in his youth, which while industrious never had the flurry of activity that he could see before him.All built on usury and lies. Jon Arryn shook his head. That usury and those lies gave him the funds he needed to defend the Vale, to give it a sense of purpose after the Rebellion. As shameful as it was, there was only one person that he could come to when he needed money.

As Lord of Gulltown, Gerold Grafton was right out. It was never good policy to be indebted to one of your most powerful vassals, especially one who had just negotiated a marriage with another equally powerful. Propriety dictated he would have to congratulate Lord Gerold on his betrothal of his son Gyles to Ysilla Royce. Nor could he sully the family name by taking a loan from merchants or jumped-up lordlings whose power came from what they bought and sold. House Arryn of the Eyrie's words were As High as Honor, and that meant avoiding sullying yourself through contact with such people. This of course left only one option. The part of the family that did not feel that way.

The manse of House Arryn of Gulltown was built to resemble the Eyrie, something which vexed Jon to no end. It stood at the top of one of the hills upon which the city was built, nearly of a height with the Gull Tower which defended the city gates and Lord Grafton's keep itself. It never ceased to amaze Jon how tasteless this branch of the family had become over the years. If they wanted to maintain the pretense of nobility, they shouldn't have married so many fishmongers. He called for the servants to take his horse and those of his retinue, dismounted, and ascended the steps to the large mahogany doors with a moon carved into them. They creaked open slowly and Lord Arryn was led inside to his distant cousin's office, where the man was scribbling something on a piece of parchment. The office, at least, did not make a mockery of his family's ancestral home. It was decorated sparingly and lined with bookshelves which must have kept the records of past dealings. The oak desk at which Denys Arryn sat was large and ornate, but that was so it could accommodate the many ledgers and devices he needed for his trade, like the abacus resting near its edge. Overall, he was thankfully in a place of work. Nonetheless, Jon wanted nothing more than to overturn the table in front of him with bread and salt. Supposedly his cousin Denys left them there permanently as a reminder to all that visited him of his noble ancestry. A mockery of guest right. Denys looked up from his papers and quickly rose to his feet, bowing before Jon and bidding him partake of the bread and salt. In the past the man had been ebullient at seeing the Lord of the Eyrie walk through his doors, but today something was off. He did not look happy.

Jon partook as was custom while Denys returned to his seat, allowing his distant cousin to stand.

"So good to see you again, coz, I mean, my lord," Denys tittered nervously. "Would you like something to drink? I've recently come into a case of wine from the Disputed Lands. Very hard to acquire, I can see why the Free Cities fight so bitterly over them." That was supposed to be a joke, but neither Jon nor Denys managed a laugh.

"How is the family?" he asked. "How are the Lady Janyce and little Robyn?"

"They are well. I must thank you for allowing me to pass the night with you again, coz," Jon forced himself to say. "Your services in recent years have been most commendable." Denys nodded seriously, as if he were waiting for the right moment to break bad news.

"Anything for family, my lord," Denys replied, taking one of the two glasses of wine and offering the other to Jon. The Lord of the Eyrie took a sip and found himself enjoying the taste. It was far more complex than what the local vintages offered. Jon took another sip, thinking the flavors would best be enjoyed slowly. Denys took a deep draught from his own glass before continuing.

"On to business then?" Jon Arryn nodded.

"Cousin, I shall require another five hundred dragons for the coming months." Denys nearly spit out his wine.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but I can't afford do that." This left the Lord of the Eyrie incensed.

"And why not?" he asked, allowing a small bit of the anger he felt creep into his words.

"Because, my lord, as a man who makes his living through trade, my assets are considerably more…fungible than your own. The amount of money I have at my disposal changes from year to year and even from month to month. These past few months have been unkind to me, my Lord, and every time you visit you demand so much. I had to dip into my own personal savings just to accommodate your last request. If we could just agree on an interest rate—"

"Enough!" Jon bellowed. "If you insist on usury with the fishmongers and whoever else you wring pennies out of that's your own business, but I will not have you further soil the Arryn name by committing it against your own family!" This nearly caused Denys to spill his wine, but he quickly collected himself.

"It brings me no joy to say so, my lord," he began to apologize, "but I need a way to recoup my losses, and you are behind on your payments again. You of all people should know how expensive war can be, and my household cannot bear the strain of financing one all on its own. I can show you the ledgers if you like." This was an exaggeration, of course, but nonetheless Jon knew there was some truth to it. Finances had never been his strong suit, but never before had he felt so hamstrung by them.

"We will discuss this when I return from my visit with Lord Grafton," Jon told him sternly. "I suppose I will need to take a look at those ledgers."

"Of course, my lord," Denys sighed. "Please, give my regards to Artys when you see him." Jon set the servants to unpacking his belongings and called for his guard and horse as he made his way to Lord Grafton's keep. A true fortress in the heart of the city, House Grafton had not allowed being surrounded by merchants to cause them to forget what it meant to be of noble blood. The walls were high and sturdy, made of the mountain stone that was so readily available in the Vale. They formed a massive circle around the inner keep, preventing an easy attack from any one side. The towers themselves were built high, giving them an excellent vantage point that was only increased by the fact that the Grafton citadel was seated on the tallest hill in Gulltown. Jon wondered if the Rebellion might not have ended here had Lord Gerold's father Marq not pulled back to the keep when the city had been besieged by his own loyal Valemen. Instead of breaking the siege however, Lord Marq had decided to man the city's outer walls with his men where Robert Baratheon slew him. Not that it mattered in the long run, Jon thought. We still lost.

Lord Grafton received him in his solar, dressed smartly in a vest with the yellow and red of his house and flanked by Lord Shett of the Gull Tower and Gulltown's head of customs, Lord Petyr Baelish. Lord Shett bowed deferentially, as did Lord Baelish, though the latter seemed to be smirking as he did so. Jon Arryn disliked him intensely. Men called him Littlefinger, for despite whatever position he may have held in Gulltown he owed his entry into the halls of power to being nothing more than the lord of the smallest keep on the smallest of the Fingers. Lord Arryn had prevailed on Lord Grafton to place Littlefinger in charge of customs after the man had agreed to take Lysa to wife. Despite the unheard-of wealth that had been brought into the Vale through Baelish's reforms, however, it was a decision Jon had come to regret. Gulltown had become a target for the septons' ire with the increase in whorehouses that could be found in the city, many of which were owned by Lord Baelish himself. He might have been able to look past that had it not been for what her new husband's business ventures had done to Lysa. It had been clear when Jon had told her that she would remarry Lord Baelish that she had loved him dearly, but the woman had never been stable, and the strain of being married to a man who made a living from brothels had been too much for her to bear. Jon was at least glad he had found a septon willing to perform her funeral, as there were many even in Gulltown who claimed that the gods detested suicide. Jon was broken from his reminiscences when Lord Grafton clasped him warmly by the forearm. He then turned to Lord Shett, then finally to Littlefinger. They sat down to beside the small fireplace Lord Grafton used to warm himself during the winter. The solar was still a bit opulent for Jon's tastes, but unlike his distant cousin's home had a sense of decorum. It was still a place fitting for a lord.

"Would you like something to drink, my lord?" Lord Grafton offered. "Lord Royce has sent me a few of his best barrels. I insisted on it as part of Ysilla's dowry." The assembled Lord shared a polite chuckle at that.

"Yes, I must congratulate you on that match," Lord Arryn commented. "It is most advantageous," Jon paused to take a sip of his wine. "And most surprising."

"It was actually I who brokered it," Littlefinger cut in, much to Jon's frustration. "My Lords of Royce and Grafton have long been rivals, but I was able to convince them that they had far more in common than they realized." Lord Grafton nodded at this.

"Yes, Petyr has been quite a gift to us, my lord. Profits are up, trade has increased, and the city as a whole is better for it." Lord Grafton looked to Lord Shett, who was also about to speak up.

"Indeed, the Gull Tower is better manned and armed than it has been since the days of my grandfather."

"Where is that wine?" Lord Grafton demanded. "Artys!" A young man dressed in a vest with the sigil of House Arryn of Gulltown entered with tray holding a decanter and some glasses. He set the tray down and filled each glass before handing them to each of the Lords present. So this is Lord Grafton's squire, Jon thought. Jon had considered it presumptuous at best when he heard that Denys had named his son after the founder of House Arryn, but from what Lord Grafton had told him in his letters the boy had the makings of a real knight. He had already unhorsed men twice his age and showed considerable promise as a swordsman. It did not hurt that the boy was handsome too. Jon smiled at Artys, whose face lit up appreciatively before he bowed and left.

"As hard as it may be to believe, my lord, Artys is a credit to your family," Lord Grafton told him. "I see much more of his namesake than his father in him." Jon was glad to hear it, but it was time to get down to business.

"I saw another one of Septon Janos' men preaching outside the gates today." Lord Arryn began.

"They are growing bold," Lord Shett admitted, "but of late we have been able to keep them under control. They rarely preach within the city walls."

"I don't see how those heretics have any appeal." Lord Grafton added. "Septon Janos would deny the divinity of six gods! It's the Faith of the Seven, not the Faith of the Father!"

"A clever line, my lord," Littlefinger chirped. "You should write to the High Septon and offer your services as an apologist."

"Janos is right about one thing. The High Septon is too busy selling his soul to the King and the sorcerers he consorts with now that he's on the Small Council." Lord Shett muttered. Baelish looked back to Lord Grafton and smirked.

"It seems you have your answer, my lord."

"The question, then, is what we shall do with him." Jon said. "The man has clearly outlived his usefulness. If anything, his preaching is making it harder to fight the Mountain Clans, not easier."

"Janos is not the only septon in the Vale, you know," added Lord Shett. "I imagine those of First Men stock would be more than happy to condemn him."

"The condemnation of a few septons will not be enough," Lord Grafton sighed. "We need something more definitive."

"A council, perhaps? To state the position of the all the septons of the Vale?" Lord Shett asked.

"There hasn't been a council since the High Septon was in Oldtown!" Grafton exclaimed. "And even then it hardly produced any results! The Dornishmen still depict the Mother standing on the back of a turtle!"

"But that was because the Kings of the Reach had no power in the places on which the council passed judgment," Littlefinger commented. "If such a council were held under the auspices of the Eyrie, Lord Arryn could make it binding on the entire Vale."

"But what about King's Landing? Would the High Septon not see this as a usurpation of his authority?"

"Janos has even less love for the High Septon than you do, Lord Shett, and he preaches a doctrine that is held in low regard in the capital. If anything, I would think His High Holiness would welcome our quashing dissent on his behalf." All nodded in agreement at Lord Baelish's words, and for the next several minutes Jon listened as Lord Grafton recommended who among the local septons would make good representatives should such a council be called, as well as promising another five hundred men for the campaigns against the Mountain Clans. After they had all finished their wine, Jon decided it was time to go.

"This has been a productive conversation," Jon pronounced, "but I must return to my distant cousin's manse. The hour grows late and I am tired after so many days of travel." He rose to leave and Lord Grafton again clasped him by the forearm.

"Thank you for your visit, Lord Arryn," he said. "I appreciate your willingness to intervene in this matter. Janos' preachers have proven bad for business here in Gulltown. I would see them put an end to."

"I will write you as soon as I have made preparations," Jon replied. He said his goodbyes to Lords Shett and Baelish and turned to leave, allowing a servant to escort him out into the courtyard and prepare his mount. It wasn't until he was about to mount his horse that he realized he was being followed.

"If you have a moment, my lord," the thin voice of Littlefinger called out clandestinely. Jon turned, doing his best to hide his disgust at the man, reminding himself that he still had his uses.

"Do you have some further bit of news, Lord Baelish?"

"That I do," the man almost whispered. "Tidings I do not think it best your vassals hear." Lord Arryn beckoned him closer, nodding for him to continue.

"Not here, my lord," Littlefinger advised him. "I think it would be best if we retired to one of my establishments for this talk."

"Lord Baelish, I will never set foot in one of your establishments." Not after what they did to Lysa. Littlefinger sighed.

"As you wish it then," he conceded. "I believe the Mountain Clans are receiving help."

"Of course they are," Jon almost spat. "How else could they be wielding steel?"

"More than steel, my Lord. Help with tactics. Help from men who would see the Vale more fully integrated into the King's Peace."

"The Vale has already made its peace with the King."

"But we are not yet as subservient as Tywin Lannister would like."

"What makes you think Lord Tywin is behind this?" Jon asked.

"My sources have reported to me that among the Stone Crows there rides a man with a striped horse who matches the description of one Vargo Hoat, the leader of a mercenary band once in service to Lord Tywin."

"Sellswords are in service to coin, not men," rejoined Lord Arryn. "What other proof have you?"

"Among the Burned Men it is said there is a man who fights in full plate with his face half-charred. He has a coat of arms as well, my lord. Three dogs on a yellow field."

"Clegane?!" Jon had to do everything in his power to keep himself from shouting. So that's where the Hound has been hiding, still in service to the Lannisters after all.

"I will place a bounty on these men, but I cannot move against Lord Tywin until I have more proof. I thank you for your service, Lord Baelish."

"Oh, but my lord, I think you'll find I could be of more service still."

"How so?" Jon asked.

"I have heard that your cousin Denys has fallen on hard times. Since he is your primary creditor, this could hamper the war effort."

"I will not deny it," Lord Arryn admitted. "Are you offering your services as a usurer?"

"In this case, my lord, I would be willing to forgo my usual interest rate, for the good of the Vale." Littlefinger's smirk broadened into a cruel smile. "And for something else, of course."

"And what would that be?"

"Appoint me Treasurer of the Eyrie. A loan is one thing, but in command of the incomes of the entire Vale I could assure you that you would never want for coin again."

"You overstep yourself." Jon reminded him coldly. "I gave you all that you have now so that you might make Lysa comfortable when I made the choice to dismiss her. Whatever else you may have done, in that you have failed spectacularly. It is not something I can ever forgive." For a brief moment genuine anger seemed to flash across Littlefinger's face, but soon he had resumed his customary smirk.

"A few words of warning then," Littlefinger sneered. "You dismissed Lysa Tully on grounds of infertility did you not? But you yourself have never had much success at fathering children, not even with Lady Janyce. That is, until sweet Robyn was born, who is quite hale and has been noted by many to have nothing of the Arryn look."

"What are you saying, Lord Baelish?"

"Just that this council of yours may decide more than matters of doctrine. Very well, my Lord, I shall continue to serve you faithfully as I always have, but think upon my offer, and the ways in which a faithful servant may be useful to you in the uncertain days to come." Littlefinger turned and walked back into the castle, leaving Lord Arryn with a deep feeling of unease.

A/N: There were a few things that weren't explicit in this post that in retrospect I'd like to make more plain. After setting aside Lysa on grounds of infertility (and because he thought a bride from the Vale would help cement his somewhat shaky hold on the region), Jon Arryn married Janyce Hunter, who though we do not know how she is related to the House Hunter in cannon I'll say she's Lord Eon's daughter.

Also, for those who are wondering, Septon Janos' theology is a mix of Arianism with some of the moral preaching of reform-minded Medieval clerics who would often preach against corruption and hypocrisy in the nobility but blame it on marginalized groups like the Jews. He essentially holds that the Father alone is the One True God, who created the universe 'through' the other members of the Seven, who were the 'firstborn of all creation' and know the Father's will more perfectly than any mortal ever could. However, since the other six were the Father's chosen vessels he has also decreed that on the matters over which he has given them dominion that people turn to them for intercession, making praying to them acceptable.

This is a truth he believes is in the Seven Pointed Star and was revealed to the Andals, but corrupted by their contact with the First Men and later by the 'Valyrian sorcery' of House Targaryen. The Valemen, descended from the oldest and purest line of Andal nobility, are the ones who have best preserved the proper understanding of the sacred texts. This has also led him to a dislike of the merchants and other members of Gulltown society, believing the traditional feudal structure under which pious and pure-blooded Andals rule to be superior. Much like Arius, a lot of Septon Janos' ideas were floating around in the Vale without causing too much trouble until he tried to centralize them into a (somewhat) more coherent body of doctrine, called by his followers "The True Faith" or "The Faith of the Andals/Our Fathers," and called "The Faith of the Father" by its detractors, whose complaints are much like what Lord Grafton said.

It's both the fact that Jon Arryn set Lysa aside (much to Cat's dismay and later horror at her fate) and the fact that Jon allowed Septon Janos to go about First Men bashing that has led to the falling out between the North and the Vale. Both Ned and Cat feel betrayed by Jon Arryn, and even though Ned is starting to think it may have been a good idea he still resents Jon for convincing him to make peace with Rhaegar.