I've had a really good writing week this past week meaning I have a buffer of two chapters, and Chapter 29 especially which I've just finished before uploading this I'm a huge fan of. We have a little way to go before then though I'm afraid!
I hope you all enjoy this chapter. A reminder that I own nothing of the characters that sprung from George R R Martin's mind.
The White Knife was a large river in the North, before it split into it's tributaries there were few crossings that an entire army could make. Thankfully, Cregan Karstark knew of a ferry crossing which could transport a number of horses and equipment at a time, and so Stannis had ordered the force to set up camp at the ferry and to begin shifting his men over the river overnight. He would be one of the last to cross over however, so after having his tent set up and coupling with his wife for the night, he decided to go and stand outside in the brisk Northern air and watch his army make the river crossing.
After standing there for five journeys, Stannis' thoughts quickly turned to the next few days. Once they were on the western bank of the river it was a straight march down the Kingsroad towards Moat Cailin and given the castle would be only nominally defended from the North if the Ironborn were smart and had built extra defences, he fully expected a relatively easy victory. He decided to walk over to the prison tent however to speak to the Ironborn within the camp.
His guards quickly moved away as he entered the tent to see Theon Greyjoy on the ground with his arms bound to the central support. "King Stannis." Theon Greyjoy greeted sarcastically. "Have you come to kill me yet."
"No." Stannis answered bluntly. "We will be crossing the White Knife soon. I want you to tell me all you know about how the Ironborn would improve Moat Cailin's defences."
Theon scoffed. "How would I know, I was a prisoner in the North my entire life."
Seeing that this line of questioning wouldn't be going anywhere, Stannis decided to try something else. "I have not fought the Ironborn yet. As such I would be willing to let them live if they surrender and join me."
Again, Theon simply laughed. "Even if the Ironborn surrendered, they would never join a Greenlander King, let alone you. You are hated on the Isles after the last war. Any Ironborn would rather die at your sword than kneel before you and proclaim you their King."
An answer that wasn't unexpected, Stannis thought. "Very well." He responded. "Then when we reach Moat Cailin all of your countrymen will die, and I shall send an order to your Father to stand down and present himself to me for judgement or you will die, quickly followed by both Lord Balon and your sister."
"King Balon." Theon spat. "And do your worst to me, but you'll never subjugate the islands, you don't have the following. What is dead may never die, but rises again harder and stronger. You may beat my Father, but one of us will rise again."
Stannis simply glared at the Greyjoy heir. "Balon Greyjoy was humbled once, there will not be a second chance." Was all he said in response, as he turned away from Theon and walked out of the tent with a steely resolve to put every last Ironborn in Moat Cailin to the sword.
Being a King had left next to no time to actually be a Father, so as the entire castle around him descended into preparations for Maiden's Day, Luke excused himself in order to go and spend the time with Visenya. The young Targaryen was now almost a year and a half old, and Luke kept pinching himself as he thought on how big she was growing. Visenya was now walking unaided and had a little list of go to words.
She was currently sat down on her bedchamber floor making a dragon doll march around the floor happily, with Luke simply smiling down at her before he looked up and saw the painting of Valarra that he had commissioned. The sight of her made his guilt surface yet again as he thought of his dalliance a couple of weeks before. He knew it was cowardly to ignore Dany, but he simply couldn't bring himself to face her so close to his wedding.
An unhappy noise from his daughter brought him back to the here and now however, as the toddler had thrown the dragon just out of reach in her play. "Go on, you can get it." Luke spoke softly, pointing to the toy. Visenya cocked her head slightly at the comment, but she got to her feet and slowly waddled over to pick the dragon up before rushing back to Luke giggling, falling down in his lap. "Good girl, Vis." He grinned, planting a kiss on her slightly chubby cheek.
"Play." Visenya requested as she pushed the dragon out to him, and so Luke obliged. He took the toy in his hand and started flying it about her head.
"One day, my love, you will ride on the back of a dragon." He promised her. "Both you and Rhaegal will grow big and strong, and the skies will be yours to roam." It was his dream too, to one day mount Valaxes and just feel the air against his cheeks.
He landed the dragon on the top of her head and smiled at her giggling, though his smile faded as Ser Symon knocked on the door. "Your Grace, the Lady Margaery is here to speak with you."
Gulping, he got to his feet with Visenya still in his arms. "Here you are. Gently." He gave the toy to her before responding to his Kingsguard protector. "Send her in."
The doors opened and in stepped Luke's betrothed as beautiful as ever in a low-cut dress of light blue and gold. "Your Grace." She curtseyed perfectly.
"My Lady, I was not expecting you today." Luke admitted.
Margaery smiled. "The preparations for Maiden's Day are completed." Margaery explained. "And my Grandmother is just ensuring the kitchens know that all the leftovers for the wedding feast will be split between all of the orphanages in King's Landing. I was wondering if you wished to travel into the city with me to let them know?" She had a pleading look in her large brown eyes.
It was an excellent political move, Luke saw. The people of the city had suffered under the previous regime and since the arrival of the Tyrell's it had been the Reach House's mission to perform as much noisy charity as they possibly could. Luke looked at his daughter wanting to see any sign that would allow him to stay, though his mind was made up when he saw Visenya having settled into his arms and cuddling the toy dragon tightly, her eyes half open. "Allow me to settle Visenya in her bed and fetch Talisa, and I shall join you in the Throne Room shortly."
The Tyrell girl couldn't help the grin. "Wonderful." She stated, before she studied his clothing. "Perhaps your red shirt and black cape?"
Rolling his eyes, Luke simply nodded. "I'll be ten minutes." He said finally, watching Margaery curtsy and leave before he turned around towards the ornate crib. "Come on, Princess. Time for your nap."
It was more like thirty minutes by the time Luke had settled Visenya, tracked down Talisa to keep an eye on the Princess and then gotten himself changed and the escort sorted. Ser Barristan and Ser Symon would accompany them, along with Ned Dayne. It turned out to be a long day as the group didn't miss a single orphanage, all of which were absolutely ecstatic to both receive the promise of food, as well as see the King and future Queen in person.
They had set out at around midday, and by the time they had left the last of the orphanages, the sun was in its last couple of hours before it set.
"I do have one more request…" Margaery mentioned as they went back to the carriage.
Luke chuckled. "Name it."
"I saw the doll that Visenya had." Margaery began. "And it made me think… the dragons are such a huge part of your family… soon to be my family. Yet I have never met the real creatures, only seen them from afar or in toys for the Princess."
It wasn't the request that Luke expected. "You wish to meet the dragons?"
"Well, yours." Margaery explained. "I'm not sure it's appropriate for any person other than the rider to force an introduction with a dragon."
Luke couldn't argue with that logic, so he thought for a moment before nodding, banging his hand on the carriage roof. "Take us to the Dragonpit!"
The carriage lurched forwards, and it was a relatively silent journey over to the ruin. Once they got there Luke helped his betrothed out of the carriage and escorted her, arm in arm, through the ruins. The temporary structures from the Lannister executions had been dismantled quickly and instead there were stone blocks everywhere.
"Once there was a grand domed castle here." He explained, knowing that Margaery would listen even if she didn't care. "Balerion the Dread was the first to be chained here, and more followed until it was destroyed during the Dance."
"Are you rebuilding?" Margaery asked.
Luke chuckled. "Not quite. Dragons are meant to be free, not chained up. After the Dragonpit became the home for all of my ancestors dragons their growth stunted until the smallest was no bigger than a sickly cat. No, I'm not rebuilding, I'm taking the stone that remains to use elsewhere for now. Eventually I'll think of a use for the hill." He let out a low whistle. "But this place… the dragons sense something even if they know not what it is. We come here often." The flapping of leathery wings sounded, and Luke immediately knew it was Valaxes. He held out his arm for the dragon to land on, although the beast was growing so much now that the weight of him almost made him buckle. "He followed us here." Luke explained.
"He is magnificent." Margaery whispered in awe, though she froze in place as Valaxes let out a little screech of warning.
"Hush, Valaxes." Luke soothed. "Margaery is a friend. A friend." He held out his hand for her to take. "Come, he won't hurt you." She pressed her hand into his shakily, and so Luke only brought her closer at a slow pace, until he readjusted so he was guiding her hand to the neck of the dragon. "Just remember to stay calm." Eventually she started stroking the dragon's neck, and though Valaxes didn't look entirely comfortable, he soon settled into the movements and let out a purring sound which grew the Tyrell woman's courage.
After a couple of minutes, Luke moved back slightly and nudged Valaxes into the air, to allow the dragon to fly freely again. "I feel…" Margaery began. "Exhilarated. He was so warm!"
"Dragon blood runs hot." Luke smirked. "They used to say that us Targaryen's had dragons blood. That a handful of us could even withstand unnatural heats as if they were nothing."
Margaery once again looked enamoured with the way Luke was speaking. "Are you one of those?"
Luke shook his head. "No, there are still things that are too hot for me. Some of the baths in Pentos felt scolding." He chuckled.
"Then perhaps one of our children will show that talent." Margaery smirked.
"Perhaps." Luke nodded, repeating her words.
They stood like that for some time, watching Valaxes zoom around in the sky as they spoke about Targaryen history some more as the sun slowly began to set, until once again Luke found himself interrupted by Ser Symon.
"Sorry, Your Grace, but there's a guardsman here." Ser Symon explained. "Tyrell banners have been spotted making their way towards the city."
That confused Luke. "Loras shouldn't be this side of Brindlewood yet." He commented, having given the Tyrell heir permission to leave his force on the Riverlands border in order to travel back to King's Landing for the wedding.
"Not from the North, Your Grace." Symon explained so only Luke could hear. "This group comes from the South. I believe it's a prisoner escort."
A wry smirk found its way atop Luke's face. "Ah, thank you Ser Symon." Luke nodded. "We shall head to the Red Keep immediately."
"What's going on?" Margaery asked him. "My Father's banners? Is it Loras?"
Luke turned to her. "Not yet, though I'm sure he will be back for the wedding. No, I believe Littlefinger has finally returned to King's Landing."
There were only a couple of the Small Council members sat around the table when Luke arrived, though he was grateful to see the Commander of the City Watch, Ser Daemon Sand himself one of the Gold Cloaks fastening Baelish's chains to the chair he would sit in. Prince Oberyn and Jon Connington sat opposite the Valeman.
"Your Grace." Jon rose to his feet immediately, bowing his head. Oberyn meanwhile just stood up.
"I know it's late, but this matter cannot wait." Luke explained as he took his own seat, unstrapping Blackfyre and placing it on the table with the sharp point facing the prisoner. "It is good to finally meet you, Lord Baelish."
"I am just grateful to be back in King's Landing." Baelish insisted.
Luke simply smirked at the man. "Thank you, Sers. Ser Barristan and Ser Symon can take guarding the prisoner from here." He didn't want ears that he couldn't guarantee the loyalty of listening in. Daemon Sand and his companion bowed their heads towards Luke and departed before Symon Cressey locked the door behind them.
"Lord Petyr Baelish of the Fingers." Jon Connington was reading from his papers. "Your Great Grandfather was a sellsword from Braavos, your Grandfather a hedge knight and your Father a Lord."
"Quite a rise in such a short period." Oberyn remarked.
"You were the first to be born into nobility, and then managed to be fostered at Riverrun." Jon actually sounded impressed. "Your Father must have been quite a man."
Baelish smiled sickeningly at them, but his eyes gave away his anger. "He was, but an unambitious one."
"If only the Gods granted me more unambitious men, then we wouldn't be dealing with issues like this." Luke remarked. "How soon into your fostering did you begin to manipulate Lady Lysa?"
Baelish frowned. "I do not know what you mean. I was friends with both Lysa and Catelyn as well as Lord Edmure."
"I was friends with a number of people in my childhood." Luke began. "Not friendly enough to conspire to kill someone as important as the Hand of the King."
"You are being tried here for treason, Lord Baelish." Oberyn stated mockingly. "Alongside a number of other crimes."
"I have been a loyal servant of the crown…" Baelish began.
Luke interrupted him however, with an extremely non regal snort in amusement. "You can drop the act, My Lord. We have your ledgers, know you've been stealing from the royal treasury. I promise you a quicker death providing you tell us where the remaining gold you haven't pushed as bribes has been hidden."
Baelish scowled. "I know nothing of what you are talking about, Your Grace. I have been locked away unjustly for over a year in Highgarden…"
"Unjustly?" Jon Connington raised an eyebrow. "Wat that point you were simply a prisoner of war. Now, you are a criminal."
"A clever one, admittedly. But not clever enough." Oberyn smirked. "I presume you will not tell us about your gold stash, nor exactly who you have bribed within the city?"
"What gold?" Baelish responded innocently.
Oberyn was still smirking in amusement. "Very well, then shall we move onto the more serious charge of conspiracy to murder Lord Jon Arryn, your Liege Lord."
Baelish's eyes widened. "Lord Arryn was struck by illness. All of us in the Vale mourned his loss…"
"You can drop the act." Luke insisted. "We know about Armeca, she has told us all. Ros has helped us with finding out more about the theft, and Armeca has told us everything about her trip to purchase the poison and how she delivered it to your hands directly."
Oberyn leant forwards, cocking his head like he was staring at prey. "Tell us all you know about Lady Lysa's involvement in the murder now, or I promise you, I will not be so gentle the next time I ask."
Baelish still shrugged. "Your Grace, I truly have no idea what you are insinuating but I swear, I have no involvement in these."
He was getting nowhere, and Luke was getting frustrated. He slammed his fist down on the table fiercely and rose to his feet. "If you refuse to tell us now and we find exactly what we are looking for, then one of two things will happen. I would happily have you feed Valaxes. The size of you, you'd keep him sustained for at least a week. Or, as a public sign of your treason, I will have you marched down to the Central Square and tie your limbs to four separate horses, each to gallop to the four corners of the city to present a limb to remind everybody that treason will be punished severely." There was still no response. "I'll count down from five, and if you do not start talking, then my leniency will be gone. Five, four, three, two, one." There was still nothing coming from Littlefinger's mouth. "Very well. Prince Oberyn. Make this silent mockingbird sing in any way you deem fit."
"Gladly, Your Grace." Oberyn grinned darkly before whistling to signal the City Watch to re-enter. "If you will excuse me, I shall begin now." Luke bowed his head in acceptance and watched as Baelish was dragged away, an almost skipping Prince of Dorne behind him.
Jon Connington leant back in his chair as the doors closed again and sighed loudly. "This was a farce."
"Varys warned me he would not talk." Luke shrugged. "He needed to know I was serious. Even on what we have found we can have him killed, the waiting is so that we can recover as much as possible from him and so that we can bring the Vale back into the fold on our terms."
The doors opened once again, and Luke turned towards it to see the eunuch he had just been speaking about. "Varys, you missed the fun." Luke muttered dryly.
"I feared my presence would only incite Lord Baelish more." Varys explained. "Plus, I was receiving word from the North."
That peaked Luke's interest. "Please, tell us."
Varys bowed his head. "Stannis Baratheon has taken the Dreadfort and is marching Southwards to rid Moat Cailin of the Ironborn. Robb Stark meanwhile has gathered half of his men to the South of Moat Cailin, and they are blocking it off from the Kingsroad."
"Where is his other half?" Jon asked.
Varys shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure. The birds in the North do not sing as loudly as others. Robb Stark meanwhile is on his way to regroup with his men after Lord Tully's funeral."
"Stannis Baratheon and Robb Stark converging on one another." Jon summarised, a smile appearing on his usually rock-solid face. "This is excellent news. If they fight one another…"
"Or they join forces." Luke countered pessimistically. "Stark may have opened negotiations with us but if Stannis Baratheon clears the North of Ironborn before the Northmen do then he has an upper hand."
"We have Sansa Stark." Jon explained. "He wouldn't dare reignite a war."
Luke wasn't so sure. "If he rebelled with his Father and two sisters supposedly in custody, why would he not do so again with only his sister?" It was a question that made them all think amongst themselves for a moment. "There is not much we can do from here." Luke sighed eventually. "Varys, get more eyes in the North, I want to know what happens between Baratheon and Stark as it's happening."
The eunuch bowed his head. "At once, Your Grace." He stated, before rising to his feet and departing the room, leaving Jon and Luke alone.
"We need to send word to Ronnet." Jon noted. "The men need to be ready if we are back at war with the North."
Luke nodded, almost expecting things to go poorly and for Stark, Tully and Baratheon to ally against his House once more. "Write the letter." He ordered. "And let us hope that Oberyn can break Baelish quickly before that old alliance is completed with the Vale."
The Vale of Arryn was a historic place, and Runestone was among it's most storied castles. A perfect venue for one of the most important gathering of its Lords in history. Lord Yohn Royce was waiting in his solar looking through the documents that had arrived by courier detailing all that the new King on the Iron Throne knew about Jon Arryn's death. The information was harrowing, and for someone as loyal to the Old Falcon as Yohn had been, it made the Lord of Runestone seething with anger.
His door opened and Yohn noticed his Maester, Helliweg, standing there. "They are ready for you, My Lord."
Yohn simply nodded, gathering all papers as he stood up and wrapping himself in his sigil cloak before following the Maester into his council room. Inside were 5 Lords and one Lady of the Vale, six of the most influential and powerful people in the entire Vale in Lord Gilwood Hunter, Lord Horton Redfort, Lady Anya Waynwood, Lord Benedar Belmore, Lord Gerold Grafton and Ser Symond Templeton. Yohn took his own seat around the circular table and placed all of the papers in front of him. "My Lords, My Lady." He greeted. "These are dark times, and right under our noses conspiracies and plots have robbed us of a great man. Lord Arryn was murdered, it was not a quick sickness, it was the Tears of Lys."
There were gasps around the table. "What proof have you of this, Lord Royce?" Lord Belmore asked.
"Testimonies and evidence from King's Landing." Yohn explained, handing out the information to everyone in the room. He had ensured that all the papers had been copied six times so that everybody could read it at once.
"From the Targaryen?" Lord Hunter snorted. "You expect us to believe this? He wants our fealty and knows that Lady Lysa will refuse so he aims to turn us against her."
"I thought the same, Lord Hunter." Yohn explained. "But if you read, there is too much there. And Ned Stark himself was investigating…"
That was a point that turned the mood, as each occupant of the room had known and liked Ned Stark. Yohn allowed them all to read through the papers, noticing their faces turn angry the further through that they went.
"Lady Lysa was the instigator…" Lord Grafton whispered, having read the full testimonies of both Varys and Littlefinger's whore. "To kill Lord Arryn for wishing to foster his son?"
"We know she is… unstable." Lady Waynwood chose her words carefully. "And if you have seen how she treats Lord Robin, you could see her willing to kill for him."
"We are still trusting the words of a Targaryen." Ser Symond was with Lord Hunter on this. "I find that unnerving."
"I have as much reason to detest House Targaryen as anybody." Yohn stated bluntly. "My Nephew was executed by the Mad King alongside Lord Elbert, and my brother was then killed for answering the Mad King's summons." He let that fact settle over them as the horrors of the days before the rebellion were still fresh. "Yet this Targaryen seems to know that we would not believe him with just words and has sent proof upon proof. Lady Lysa arranged for the murder of Lord Arryn, and Littlefinger supplied the poison."
"They must die." Lord Grafton snarled.
"We should speak with Lady Lysa first." Lord Redfort held his hands up for peace. "Get her side of the story."
Yohn nodded. "We shall speak with her, My Lord Redfort. After we place her under arrest."
A shocked silence fell over the room, and even Lord Grafton, the Lord who had agreed with the evidence the quickest, looked uneasy. "She won't come quietly." He said.
"No, she will not." Yohn agreed. "But between us we can muster 25,000 men. I like this no more than you do, but it is what must be done for the future of the Vale. We need Lord Robin in our custody to help him grow into a Lord worth following, and we cannot have him in the grips of a murderer." He stood up and slapped his fist into his heart pompously. "By my honour as a Royce and as a Valeman, I will not let Lord Arryn's murder go unpunished."
The occupants of the room were slowly nodding their heads, all other than Lord Hunter. "Say we capture the Eyrie and Lady Lysa, what then? Do we bend our knees to this dragon King? That is what he wants."
"The matter of the future can be settled in the future." Lady Waynwood stated. "For now it is up to us to avenge our dear friend and Lord. Once we have settled the Vale, then we can see how the land lies in terms of who we bend our knees too."
Yohn nodded. "Are we all in?" He asked them.
"Aye, I am." Lord Grafton nodded.
"As am I." Lord Belmore stated.
"Ironoaks is with you." Lady Waynwood nodded.
"As is the Redfort." Lord Redfort told them.
Yohn then looked at the other two in the room. "Ser Symon?"
The landed knight gulped. "I will follow you, Lord Royce, but I am hesitant to trust a Targaryen's word on this. We will need the confession of Lady Lysa before I am willing to judge her so harshly."
"Agreed, Ser." Lord Hunter nodded. "My archers will be yours to command, Yohn, but this sits ill with me."
That was all he needed though, and Yohn nodded at the Hunter Lord. "My thanks, everyone. The hospitality of Runestone is yours for as long as is necessary, but I encourage you to gather your banners at haste, the Vale can sit on its hands no longer."
This is Theon before he was recaptured by Ramsay in Season 3 of course, so whilst he's missing a fingernail and had a screw driven through his foot, he's still got his manhood and he's still Theon, not yet Reek.
Luke is still in love with Valarra which is why he feels guilty looking at her, but he also knows that he could be falling for both Margaery and Daenerys. The scene with Margaery to me was important as this was my stories version of her 'crossbow scene' with Joffrey in the show, in how she's trying to appeal to Luke's interests in order to get her to fall for him, and it's working. As of right now she doesn't know the full details about the siblings close relationship, but that will be a plot which develops over time, and we all know that only fun occurs when a Targaryen woman and a Reacher woman plot over a King…
I'm not overly happy with the Baelish scene, but after 3 rewrites this is what I got given the parameters I gave myself for this chapter. He'll become a little bit more relevant later on once the Vale plot takes another step forwards though.
Kyle Royce was a member of Brandon Stark's party that went to King's Landing, and Kyle's Father is listed as having died after the summons. There's no confirmed link as to how related to Yohn they are but given Yohn's age and the age of his sons, I've matched them as I have here, with Kyle being Yohn's nephew.
Thank you all for reading this and I hope you all enjoyed it.
Next Time: It's Maiden's Day…
Reviews:
suryamgangwal63: I've said quite a lot that he'll appear in Chapter 33 for the first time.
Guest (Trueborn Jon Snow): There are lots of ways I'd describe Luke but similar to his secret nephew is not one of them… Luke has been raised as a sellsword and has barely any of the honour that Jon holds so dear as shown when he ordered a child to be killed because he got angry at the sight of a Baratheon amongst many other things.
Guest (Luke/Dany): Thank you! No, that was Dany's first time but given how much travelling she had done in Essos it didn't even occur to me that her hymen may still be intact. Perhaps that's a mistake on my part given how I'm a guy and have very little idea on what that's like.