Chapter 74: The trial and the Viper.

Author's note: Sorry for the delay, but here is the chapter! So... Robb fucked up, he will learn, but he made a mistake allowing Littlefinger to speak. To be fair, he was in a bad position no matter what he did. If Robb killed him without a trial, the vale lords would doubt his fairness, but he knew the character of Baelish. He could have done things better? Yes, but he is human and, most importantly, a young man. He made a mistake, which will be hard to fix even with his power. Even with the demonstration, the doubt will persist, so he will need to keep a close eye on the players of the Vale. I did this to show that even if they are Allies, people will be greedy, and it's a constant in the multiverse. Anyway, he paid the price of going against Robb, even if he got the last laugh.

Also, we had the first scene of a loved character! The next chapter will be the same, with part of Robb finishing momentarily in the Vale and Oberyn's visit to the perpetrators of the injustice during the sacking of King's Landing and his stay at Harrenhal. Also, we will get a peek at what he plans to do, even if it puts him at odds with his brother. He is a free spirit, after all.

Game of Thrones: A Stark Shard.

Chapter 74: The trial and the Viper.

The Eyrie, The Vale.

Robb Stark.

When I told the maester to send ravens to all the vital houses of the Vale, I didn't expect them to come in droves as they did. Besides the mountain clans, every house arrived in the past three days.

Most arrived in person, with a contingency of ten people, which usually included some guards and one or two servants per Lord. It was understandable and even required since the dangers of the mountain clans still existed; since I only had my group here, I could not move as fast as I could, but with their help, I planned to nip them in the bud once and for all, I would show mercy to any who surrendered, but I wouldn't shed a tear if I needed to be firmer.

I needed to move fast and be focused. I was required in Seagard so that we could begin the invasion of the islands.

Looking around in wonder, I tried to name the Lord with my little knowledge of this kingdom, but I could barely see anyone I knew without counting the Lord Declarant, who was sitting by my side.

"Welcome, everyone," I smiled. I know the message was sent with short notice, but thank you all for coming here when asked."

Taking a deep breath, I stood up from the throne. We were in the same place where Tyrion's trial happened during canon, with the Lords and Ladies of the Vale standing in a semi-circle before me.

The vast majority of them looked at me with hope in their eyes. They probably were the ones who were against Lysa's inaction during the war that was happening outside their borders. Most of them were of an age that made them remember my father fondly, which probably affected how they viewed me.

It was an advantage that I was going to use the most. My father was loved and respected here during his stay, and even after that, being his son made most of the Lords view me favorably. 

On the other hand, a couple of Lords looked at me with narrowed eyes when they thought I couldn't see. I was sure they both hoped to use Littlefinger to increase their power and were considering how to do the same for me.

It wasn't a problem in the long run since I did not plan to stay here to manage everything. That wasn't easy, and it would take too much of my time, so I planned to do the same as every great leader in history… make someone else work in my stead. As long as they worked for the same end as I wanted, I would not care, even if they helped themselves with gold and power. I had the power to remove anyone I wanted, and after the war, I don't think anyone would like to cross me.

They would be afraid of me acting against them, which was another reason why I planned to destroy the Iron Islands.

It was all about image; if I crafted mine just as planned, no one would even think to challenge me while I ruled.

The Lords and Ladies present smiled at hearing my greetings, even those looking at me with thinly veiled anger or shrewdness. It was a good thing since the tension that had been increasing in the room with my silence dissipated with little effort on my part.

"I called you all here for multiple reasons, but the most pressing one is a trial of a man who plunged our country into chaos. One Petyr Baelish, otherwise known as Little finger." I said seriously, gazing at each one of the people present.

With a casual wave of my hand, Jon, next to me, started moving toward the back of the room, opening the Door and motioning to SmallJon to bring Petyr in front of every one of us.

I looked at him with interest, mainly to show him that I did not need my eyes to see, but I wanted to avoid using my power that much in the open because it made people nervous.

Petyr had seen better days; he was haggard, and his hair was in disarray. After a particularly nasty visit from the blackfish who started paying attention to our prisoner, he was beaten black and blue, and it showed.

He had to be dragged around the room, not being capable of walking by himself with his injured legs, and one of his arms was unusable after the blackfish broke it. It was a pitiful scene, but I had no mercy for his type.

"Petyr Baelish, you are accused of the following crimes: The murder of the late Lord Jon Arryn. Not only were you the one who planned the whole thing, you also were the one who obtained the tears of Lys used to kill him." I said direly, omitting the fact that my aunt was the accomplice in this specific crime. I wasn't sure if I could hide it, but I lost nothing while trying.

The Lords present gasped in surprise at hearing this. Jon Arryn was a respected Lord here and loved, even if his duty to the crown made it difficult for him to rule here.

Shouts for his head were heard all around us, from the servants to the Lords. No one kept silent, and I smiled grimly, seeing them so riled up. The less Petyr was allowed to speak, the better it was for me. He was a snake through and through, and his tongue was the most dangerous thing about him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but with a signal, Jon struck him in the back of his head, causing him to drop to the floor with a loud thump.

Jeers happened at the scene, and multiple whistles were heard all around.

"Make no mistake, Petyr Baelish. I have already found you guilty, and you will die today. It doesn't matter if it is after a trial by combat with some poor person who you manage to bribe or blackmail to fight for your life or just after this hearing, but you will die." I smiled sharply in his direction, with him seeing me only thanks to Jon tugging his hair with his gloved hand. "Not only did you kill your liege lord, you also plotted against my family. You have done so ever since my uncle Brandon Stark was alive. Ever since he beat you in that pitiful fight when you were younger. You are a danger to the country, always bidding your time to strike when victory is assured."

"You won't be able to get away from this. I have the support of most of the lords here, and my word is the law. You have harmed my family, tried to use us against the Lannisters, using my aunt to manipulate my mother. You are guilty, Petyr Baelish. The only question is, will you make this a lengthy proceeding, or would you rather die right now through the Moon Door." I looked at him seriously, "Think carefully what you prefer to do, Petyr. The Moon Door will be fast and probably not that painful. If you want the Gods to judge you, I will be your executioner after defeating your champion."

He looked defeatedly at me, and through his swollen eyes, I could see the tears flowing unimpeded. Petyr whimpered, but he was smart enough to understand the message hidden in my words. Die fast, without opening his mouth and making problems for me in the long run, or die painfully if he did something.

I did not care what he chose; he had no information that could damage my cause. I'm loved by my people, and my might won the hearts of the rest.

He looked conflicted at my words, weighing the pros and cons of his decision. There was no way he was getting out of this alive, and he knew it. I would not be swayed by his begging. I was not Sansa in the original timeline, and even after he tried manipulating my sister, he did not get out of it alive.

"Please, your grace. I beg you for forgiveness," He tried either way, probably out of desperation.

"Cute," I snorted. "That will not work. Save your breath and answer the question, Baelish."

His face twisted into a snarl, and his swollen face made it look quite funny, which earned a snort from my group.

"Which will it be, Petyr. Will you confess and die by the Door or ask someone to fight your battle?" I drawled once more, getting tired of this.

"I will die by the Moon Door, your grace," he said defeatedly, but I saw something I disliked in his eyes. A light shined through his eyes, and it put me on edge. I knew he was a coward at heart, so his avoiding a trial by combat made sense, but there was something in the way he said that that raised my hackles.

"So be it," I intoned gravely, "Open the gates!"

Watching with boredom, I gazed at the Lords present, looking for their reactions. Some were grinning, while one in particular was looking pissed, and he didn't bother to hide it. The user of Lady Forlorn, Lyn Corbray, was upset with how this was going, and he stood up with a disgruntled face.

"This is not the way a trial should go!" Ser Corbray snapped and looked around. Every single Lord has the right to be judged by the Gods, and you are browbeating him into abstaining from that right with threats."

The silence in the room was deafening. Everyone was surprised by this interruption, and I expected something like this.

"Ah, Ser Corbray. I wondered if you would speak up since you have been under his employ." I smiled, showing my teeth.

"What are you talking about?" He sputtered, "I'm only speaking up because you are taking the law and twisting it for your advantage. It sets a bad preference going forward, and I'm afraid you will continue to do it if you ascend to the throne."

I smiled genuinely, "I never knew you cared so much for the law, Ser Corbray. To answer your question, I'm giving Lord Baelish his options; he was the one who decided the way to go."

"But you gave him no other options!" he shouted, looking around with a superior look and trying to rile up the lords, "He has the right to defend himself!"

I nodded at him, "You speak truthfully, ser."

I looked at Petyr, who was looking at the scene with something resembling a smirk. "What do you think, Lord Baelish? Now that Ser Cordray has spoken about this injustice, will you change your decision now?"

"No, your grace. I know it would not change anything. Word of your martial powers has reached every corner of the country. I doubt a single person here would win against your superior strength. I did order the death of Jon Arryn, and I'm the mastermind behind everything you said." Baelish replied with a shake of his head, earning gasps from the crowd.

"I will die here and now. I know when I lost, there is no way out of this." He said mournfully.

"Good," I nodded, "Go on then,"

With that said, Smalljon started dragging his body toward the Door, and with barely any effort, he threw Baelish's body away.

Everyone was observing, but Littlefinger would have the last laugh.

Just as he started falling, his voice could be heard, "It's a shame that Jon Arryn was infertile; I'm sure he would thank him for allowing Lysa to carry my seed."

It was challenging to explain the silence in the room as soon as his voice reached the masses, with even the blackfish palling at the consequences of those words.

Everyone started shouting at once, and my brain ran a mile a minute trying to think of any way I could contain the damage the bastard provoked with his last words.

I knew it wasn't like that; I had checked with my insects if there was a parental relationship between my cousin and Baelish, but my word would not be heard entirely now.

This was a big problem. I was upset with myself for allowing this, I should have just killed him without a trial, but I allowed myself to be convinced to do it the lawful way, just as my father did.

"Silence!" I shouted with all my strength. Act like the lords you all are; don't allow the words of a snake in his dying moments to sow chaos in the Vale!"

No one listened; everyone shouted and discussed things with each other.

I looked at the Lord's Declarant and observed Lady Waynwood looking at the scene with a shock that quickly turned into her plotting in her seat. I knew that she was the one who supported Harry, the heir, and she would love to put him first in line for the Vale.

I needed to nip this in the bud now, so I did. I called for my insects to enter the room and buzz as hard as they could in unison.

"I said, "SILENCE!" I snapped, "I know it isn't true; I checked with my magic a while back."

"You are his cousin, and through him, you will have access to the vale," snarled Ser Corbray, which pissed me off.

"And I can prove it here and now if you allow it." I snapped back.

"How would you do that, your grace?" Lord Royce asked seriously.

"I want a pair of father and son, a pair of nephews, and a pair of people unrelated to each other. I know some people can fulfill my requirements now," I said seriously.

"Will this harm us?" Lord Horton asked.

"Not at all; you have my word, Lord Horton," I replied with utmost seriousness.

"My son and I will help with this demonstration," he puffed his chest. "Your word as a king and a Stark is enough for me, but this will help ensure that this farse will end here and now."

"I thank you for your words, my lord." I nodded. I need a pair of unrelated people and a pair of cousins."

"My cousin and I will help you, your grace," Lord Royce said with a frown. I also prefer to get this over with instead of fracturing the already frail Vale."

Harrenhal.

The news had shaken Oberyn to his core, a storm raging beneath his composed exterior. His supposed nephew, Aegon, returning from the dead? The implications twisted him like a venomous serpent.

The emotions churned relentlessly—excitement at the thought of Rhaegar's son alive, confusion over the boy's survival, and an unyielding fury at the cruelty of it all. If true, Aegon had been stolen from his family, from Elia. The pain of her loss festered in his soul, a wound unhealed, and this revelation felt like salt poured into it. He did not know if he should thank the Spider, which had his hands all over it, or strangle him to death for the pain and suffering his actions and manipulations caused.

But Oberyn trusted no one, least of all Varys. The Spider wove truths with lies, and those who believed him were often left entangled and bleeding. Trusting his word would be folly.

Doran's maddening silence did nothing to ease Oberyn's agitation. His brother's passivity grated on his nerves, a constant reminder of their differing philosophies. While Doran schemed and waited, Oberyn burned with the need to act, to strike. Their argument in the hall of Sunspear had been loud, vicious, and public, ending with Oberyn storming off to lead his daughters and Ellaria northward.

His thoughts darkened further at the mention of the Starks. Once enemies, their rebellion had shattered the Seven Kingdoms and paved the way for Elia's death. Yet, Oberyn could not hate them outright. Their cause had been just; their fury was righteous. It was Rhaegar's choices that he despised the most. The man he'd once called friend had plunged them all into chaos.

"What happened, my love?" Ellaria Sand asked softly at his side. They had already reached the Riverlands, and a Host of the Stark army had accompanied them to Riverrun. That was more than a week ago, and now they were reaching Harrenhal, where his gifts were waiting for all of them.

"Nothing," Oberyn shook his head leadingly, showing he did not wish to speak about it in their company. While the soldiers leading the delegation had been courteous and respectful, much to the dismay of Oberyn's daughters, they would not take kindly to them speaking ill of their King and his family.

Ellaria nodded in understanding and started talking once more with Nymeria. Seeing his second oldest daughter brought a smile to Oberyn's face. While they were a close family, his duties and the girls' curiosities made it challenging to see each other simultaneously, so this travel was as much for vengeance as to spend time with his loved ones.

Oberyn was conflicted about how the war had advanced. He was a traveled man and had seen much of what the world had to offer, but he had never seen anything close to what people claimed the Stark King could do. Magic was dead in Westeros; everyone knew that.

Oberyn did not know why that was, even if he had a couple of theories about it, but it was the truth. Westeros had no magic practitioner if you did not believe the rumors about Lord Hightower.

But he had seen a lot of things, from The Faceless Men to the Warlocks of the House of the Undying, Shadowbinders coming from Assahai, along with the Pyromancers. He had never visited that place since, even with his adventurous heart, he was afraid of poking the snake too hard and getting bitten back, and he knew that his curiosity would get the best of him and lock him into trouble.

But what he has heard about King Robb Stark was something else, a doom bringer or the bringer of death. His enemies called him that, but for his followers, he was the bringer of Hope, a beacon everyone could rally behind to make a prosperous Westeros. It was hard to describe the complex feelings he had about his family. Oberyn, in some parts, hated Lyanna Stark, blaming her for the events of the Rebellion, even if that went against his beliefs of free love.

The way Rhaegar did things was what had him more upset. Plunging the realm into war and leaving his dear sister in the hands of the Mad king was inexcusable. Rhaegar had been a dear friend ever since the marriage between him and Ellia, but his actions were the ones he mostly blamed. Even then, he had complex feelings about the Starks.

In one part, he understood and even respected what they did in the Rebellion; he would have done the same if Doran had not prohibited it, but in another part, they had been his enemies, mostly in name, since Doran decided to provide the minimum support he could.

No, the ones Oberyn hated the most were the Lannisters, and they were waiting for him on a silver platter, thanks to a Stark, of all things.

"We are almost arriving, Prince Oberyn." Lord Mallister, our "guide," said in an even tone. He did not trust the Martells as far as he could throw them, but at least he could have a civil conversation.

Oberyn learned that Jason Mallister had been in Riverrun for a report about the Seas and the recurring Iron Islanders attacks in the port cities. However, after their resounding defeat in Seagard, the men from the Iron Islands focused more on the North.

Oberyn shook his head at the stupidity of the Greyjoys. They were doing the same thing they did during their rebellion, hoping to take advantage since the other kingdoms were at war, but he knew better. His time working in the Second Sons made him a capable general, and he could see how the people of the Riverlands and the Northerners here were preparing for an offensive. Oberyn did not know precisely what they planned, but he could almost see their bloodlust and how much it was augmenting the closer we got to the cursed castle.

Hearing a gasp of surprise, Oberyn's head swiveled toward Tyene, who was looking ahead with a dumbstruck expression.

Looking in the same direction, Oberyn's teasing remarks were drowned in his surprise, and he barely managed to sputter something. He could not even maintain the constant smirk on his face, which was crafted to make people see him as someone frivolous. His face was grave as he looked at the castle, which was utterly different from what he remembered.

Oberyn had visited this castle once before, just when the problems for Westeros had started. But the image in his mind was utterly blown away when he saw the green land surrounding the castle. It was as if he were dreaming; the castle walls were no longer charred black from the dragon fire, and the land surrounding it was alive. He had expected to see the scene in the Reach, not the famously cursed lands next to the God's Eye.

"What in Mother's Royhnar happened here, Jason?" Oberyn asked aloud, unable to keep the shock from his face.

"Heh," Jason Mallister snorted, "Surprised, Aye? This is all thanks to the King, who cleared the castle of its curse along with his helpers. I also could not believe it when I first saw it."

"I've never heard of something like this," Tyene murmured, her bright eyes shining thanks to the sun. She had tried acting as Demure as she did in Sunspear, but somehow, no one bought her act, so she stopped.

"No one here had, lass." Jason snorted, "It was a surprise for everyone but a select few. But enough of that. You can ask the people inside the castle if you are curious. Maybe someone will provide a more detailed explanation."

Nodding in thanks, they continued, and after half an hour, they finally reached the castle's entrance. The courtyard was filled to the brim with soldiers training, having mock battles, and strategizing in groups. It was a sight to behold. Not even the best sellswords did this, and according to their guide, this was a recurring scene in every keep of the Riverlands and the North.

Robb Stark truly knew how to maintain an army. Oberyn's respect for the young man grew as he heard of him. It was a shame that if Aegon were his nephew, they would be on different sides of the conflict. It was a shame Doran kept his silence since Oberyn was beginning to like him, and he would probably feel bad if he had to face him in battle.

"Your King really knows how to wage war, Jason," Oberyn smirked, "If I did not know better, I would think he was a veteran of multiple wars."

"Aye," Jason nodded. "He is a scary lad, one you do not want to be in the sharp end of his sword, but he is just, and he will win." He continued with conviction.

"Is he really that good as a fighter?" Obara asked. Being the more martial of The Red Viper daughters, it was no surprise she was interested in the young King almost every kingdom was talking about.

"Aye, scary fucker," Jason shivered, "I have not seen personally, but a lot of the soldiers here participated in the massacre of Riverrun. Most of them saw him cut through hordes of Lannister soldiers by himself."

"You don't seem to respect him much, speaking like that," Nymeria tittered, covering her mouth with her elegant fingers.

"Everyone here would die in his name without hesitation," Jason's eyes sharpened. "He is our king, and we all respect him like no one else, but he does not care much for formalities, which makes him even more respected by the masses."

"The more I hear about him, the more I want to meet him," Ellaria smirked, "He sounds like a strapping young man."

"Good luck with that, my lady," Jason smirked, not offended at all.

"No one knows what he is planning, but the army already has bets on whom he will marry or even fool around, and no one has won ever since the war started," he continued with a grin.

"Smart, his hand in marriage is valuable. I heard some ladies in Sunspear moaning about him." Tyene laughed, "Our cousin included."

"I wonder if he will receive a raven from Prince Doran, then," Jason mused aloud, "Though I doubt it, with Aegon in the picture."

Tension grew at that proclamation, but he continued without care: "You are visitors here, invited by the King himself. As long as you behave correctly, you will be treated with respect. Robb's words are law."

"And I thank you," Oberyn nodded at him. Trying to convey his understanding of the situation. He had no plans to test them, not now. And he even planned to lengthen their stay to try and meet the curious King.

Right now, Doran and Oberyn's relationship was on thin ice, so he planned to enjoy the most he could before returning, and obtaining information about their possible enemies was a no-brainer. No, Oberyn planned to learn what they were doing and offering his services as long as it did not involve Dorne. He was sure he could convince his brother to see things his way.

"Now, what would you prefer. Rest for today, or visit the prisoners now?" Jason asked with a dry smirk, already knowing the answer.

"Lead us to the dungeons. My vengeance has waited long enough." Oberyn snarled, feeling the fury rise inside his body.