Chapter 71: A meeting long overdue.

Game of Thrones: A Stark Shard.

Chapter 71: Justice Long Overdue.

Redfort, The Vale.

Robb Stark.

“Before we begin with the ugly part, your grace, we have some questions to ask,” Lord Horton started calmly while resting his hands on the main table.

The solar had been adapted to fulfill every need this conversation could have. It was big enough for all of us to sit, and three workers were ready to serve. If my memory serves me right, they were led by Lord Horton's wife, Lady Maria.

According to the Blackfish, she was a good woman with a good head on her shoulders. He said she was the epitome of what a Lady should be. She took care of all the logistics in the castle and the surrounding area and acted with an iron fist when her husband had to leave the castle for one reason or another.

Giving her a slight smile and a nod of thanks, I turned my attention back to the frowning Lord.

“Go ahead, Lord Horton,” I smiled, “I will try to answer whatever you need before we leave this castle.”

Lord Horton grunted, “How do you plan to fix the issues plaguing the Vale, your grace? I'm afraid that Petyr Baelish is only one of the problems we are suffering, and now that winter is here, things will get worse before long.”

Nodding in understanding, I lowered my face and began to think about how to answer the curious Lords present. All of them were looking at me with scrutinizing eyes, none more so than Lord Royce.

“First, I plan to cut the snake's head first. Littlefinger knows how to entrench himself quickly in any situation, and giving him time to act will only make things more difficult in the long run.” I started pointing out the most essential fact.

“It will not be easy, your grace.” Lady Anya warned, “Littlefinger has Lysa Arryn under his thumb, and he is already entrenched enough in the politics of this kingdom. He has the support of the King, and as you told us before, he has started paying the mountain clans to increase the unrest of the Lords here. You will find little to no support aside from us.”

I smirked, “Oh, but the King’s support is unimportant, my Lady. The Westerlands are cut from the rest of Westeros, and the Lannisters of King’s Landing barely amount to six thousand swords. I know they won't be able to do anything this far; they have no gold, no men, and no one likes them. Even if the people didn't believe that he was a result of incest, his actions have caused unrest in the Capital. They have enough problems right now, and Baelish was allowed to come here hoping to get the Vale to support them, something I will not allow under any circumstances.”

“That's not all, your grace,” Lord Royce said grimly. "I heard a while back that he was in talks with the pirates of the three sisters. If he gains their support, they could boost their forces by a lot, and not only that, they could attack the White Harbor to make you move your attention to them first.”

“What!?” exclaimed Lord Benedar, “when did you hear about this Yohn? You should have told us this as soon as you learned it!” He was pissed, but I needed for them to be calm about the situation. I don’t remember for sure about this, but I think one of these lords worked directly with Littlefinger. That was the main reason why I planned to talk with them before making any moves; I planned to uncover the mole before going to the Erye; I was sure that whoever the mole was would send a raven to Littlefinger as soon as I arrived and told them of my plan. 

I knew for a fact that either Petyr had already bought the Waynwoods' debts or would do so soon, but I didn’t believe that she was the one working for him. Ultimately, it didn’t matter if I was wrong; I would leave the mole to face justice with the rest of this group. 

I sighed dramatically, “I would wish for them to try and attack the North in force.” My frown turned into a smirk. "If they knew about the forces waiting for them, they would think twice. I hope they do so soon. In fact, I imagine all those ships will do wonders under the North's control.”

Lord Royce laughed, “Aye, you are a northerner, all right.” he wiped his eyes with his shirt, “Ah, I missed this. I remember the war against Aerys; I’ve never met good men like the men in the North in all my travels.”

“My father had only good things to say about you, my lord.” I smiled; “it’s good to see that the first man's blood is still pumping inside your family.”

“Aye,” lord Royce nodded, “Ned is a good man, and I’m glad he fathered someone like you. You will be a good king of Westeros, lad, mark my words.”

“Now that this is taken care of,” Lady Anya interjected with a firm voice, “I'm afraid I need to ask what your plan is for the Vale once Lady Arryn and Baelish are done. What is your plan for Robin and the Vale as a whole?”

Turning serious, I focused on her, “That is easy, my Lady. My plan is unchanged, even if it will take longer for different reasons. I'm going to take the crown, but there is one thing I must take care of before turning my attention South.”

“And what is that, your grace?” asked Lord Hunter quizzically, “I can't think of anything more important than the crown.”

“The Iron Islands will cease to exist soon. I have allies in Essos, but I don't have enough ships to bring them here. I will kill two birds with one stone, destroying the old ways of the Ironborn and taking their ships under my control.” I grinned, “After all their attacks relatively unimpeded  in the North, my father managed to take a lot of their ships for our use, so when I'm done in here, we will travel all the way to Seagard, where a contingency of Northmen will be waiting for us to start our invasion.”

The Lords Declarant were open-mouthed at my plan, but Lord Royce laughed hard, “Aye, you are a Stark, all right.”

“And will you need the vale men to follow you there, your grace?” Asked Lord Redfort shrewdly, “Or do you have something else planned? And can we know the name of your ally? Does he have enough men to make the trip worth the trouble?”

“That depends,” I shrugged, “If there are men who wish to follow me to earn a name for themselves in the Iron Islands, I would welcome them with open arms, but if they would rather stay in Westeros, I know that there are multiple keeps that could use men to reinforce them. While the Westerlands will not attack in the short term, and even if they did, they can't procure a good force since most of them followed the old lion in the attack to the Riverlands. The Reach, Aegon, and Stannis are still a danger to all of us.”

“Lord Edmure would appreciate any help he can get in that front,” Nodded Jon with his usual serious face, “As of right now, most of Robb’s army is under the leadership of Lord Edmure; they are protecting the borders in case Stannis, Renly or Aegon decide to attack us. While they are either consolidating their forces like the supposed Aegon or fighting between themselves like Stannis and Renly, they are too numerous to completely ignore. For that reason, Robb decided it was best to send most of our men there.”

“The rest of the army is either in Harrenhal or Duskendale, waiting for the message to start moving to Seagard, but when they leave with us, we will need more men to keep the peace. Even if the lower parts of the Riverlands were not touched by the Lannisters, most of the affected Smallfolk migrated there in search of asylum. We all know what happens when so many people move to another place quickly. Many bandits or Lords wish to take advantage of the situation for their own needs, and Robb wished to stop that.”

I smiled proudly at Jon speaking eloquently to all these born Lords; he was firm and went directly to the point. He was starting to act the same way he did during his tenure as Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch in the series, and that filled me with joy and relief. One of my biggest fears was that I would stunt his growth thanks to all my meddling in his life, and since he never joined the Night’s Watch, I was afraid that he would grow differently than in Canon, but it appeared that my fears were for nothing. Maybe his blood predisposed him to it, but he was becoming a good general under me, and no one else served me that I could trust more than him.

“As my brother said,” I smiled in his direction and nodded proudly, “You may have heard of the purge of the North some years ago, and while I don't want a repeat of that since their actions are the consequence of fear, I want order in my kingdom, and I would appreciate your support in that.”

Lord Royce nodded proudly, but he could not hide his eyes widening at my plan. Clearly, he expected something different before meeting me, but I knew that I had won his support with my plans.

“That is easily understandable, your grace.” Lord Royce nodded, “If you manage to free Robin of his mother's and Baelish's clutches, most of the vale will follow your will as long as you help them during the winter. I cannot promise complete obedience since bad apples are everywhere, but I'm sure you understand that.”

“Aye, there is already one person marked for questioning in the Vale,” I said seriously, and the lords paid attention. “Ser Lyn Corbray, some of my informants have told me he is working under Littlefinger, and rumors of some of his proclivities have already reached my ears.”

“But I'm unsure how to proceed with him,” I shrugged. "I heard that he is one of the best fighters in the Vale, and such strength could be helpful for my needs. Do not touch him for now. Maybe he will be useful in the Iron Islands. I'm sure I can convince him that following me there will earn him prestige and wealth.”

Lady Anya shuddered and looked at me with apprehension and respect if I looked hard enough. “I'm glad you can play the game, your grace.”

I smirked at the old, dignified Lady. She had multiple children and had taken responsibility for her family after her husband died. Her no-nonsense demeanor didn't make her many friends, but her character was unquestionable. I dearly wished that she wasn't the spy of the Lords Declarant, but the possibility was minimal.

She had the second heir of the Vale under her house protection, and while the man was somewhat of a dumbass, she had done the best she could to shape him as someone useful. I didn't need to worry about him since I planned for my little cousin to rule the vale in my stead after he was taught better by someone like Father or Lord Royce.

“As for my little cousin, I'm still undecided about what to do with him,” I frowned. There are multiple people that Robin could ward with, either inside the vale or in the other kingdoms. While the best option for me would be to send him to Winterfell to learn under my father, I will allow you to convince me why it would be better to keep him here under Lord Royce rather than sending him to the North or the Riverlands.”

Lord Horton frowned, “I understand where you are coming from, your grace, but you are right; while you are busy in the Erye, we will write a list or something of the advantages of keeping Lord Robin with us. While I'm sure your Lord Father would do a wonderful job with his education, most of us would prefer it if he was taught the ways of the vale by one of us.”

I nodded at him, “See that you do, my lords. I'm not against the idea, but I hope you take the initiative before deciding. You have until we leave for Seagard to convince me. We will depart tomorrow for Erye. The less time Baelish has to prepare, the better.”

“Are we done, then?” Grunted the Blackfish in his usual snappish way; he was known to the Lord's Declarant, so they just ignored him, even if some of the servants scowled in his direction for the perceived slight. I was sure I was the only one who noticed since I was observing them with my insects, and they did it when they were looking in another direction. I made the note to follow them since it was bizarre that some regular servants dared to do so in the presence of so many lords, but it could be only their love for Lord Redfort and his wife; I wasn't sure.

“On the topic of the future, yes, we are done,” I smiled, “But I'm afraid that I need to tell you some things I've learned.”

“And what is that, your grace?” Asked Lady Anya with a lifted eyebrow.

“Some of the moves Petyr Baelish will do to keep you all under his control,” I continued direly, “Let begin with Lady Waynwood, I'm afraid that he will start buying the debt your family has accumulated through generations, and he will attempt to force you to comply with some underhanded means to do whatever he desires, have no fear of his reprisal though, I will end him before he can start making problems, and we will help the vale and its economy soon enough. This winter will probably be the worst in recorded history thanks to the return of the others, but I will do my best to keep everyone in the seven kingdoms Fed.”

Anya Waynwood went pale instantly, clearly imagining what Littlefinger could do with control over her debt; it was no small sum for her family to pay since it had accumulated over multiple generations. The Waynwood were a fair family, and since they wished to keep every smallfolk under their area fed during difficult times, they had to borrow money from different merchants or banks; while nothing like the crown debt, it was big enough to preoccupy the woman.

She relaxed minutely when she heard my promise, and it was good that I had no plans to break it. If I was a selfish bastard, maybe I would be, but I wanted to leave Planetos a better place when I died. It was my dream for this life, and I would do whatever I could to make it happen. I had the necessary knowledge and abilities to fix many of the problems in this world. I didn't know why I had transmigrated here, but my gift could improve things, and both sets of parents taught me to help whenever possible. I could be ruthless when needed; look at the Freys, and soon I would do the same to the Ironborn, but to people who genuinely tried to keep things afloat even if it hurt them in the long run, my plan was to help them all the way.

What I wished the most in this life was imagining myself walking in the Capital of my future kingdom hand in hand with my future wife, looking around at all the people working for their future with hopeful smiles on their faces, knowing that as long as they weren't deadbeat, they could earn more than enough to live comfortably.

“As for you, Lord Royce, I don't know if it already happened, but it exists the possibility of Baelish offering your cousin the hereditary lordship over the Gates of the Moon; he will do so and try to win him over since he knows that you would never support him. He will try to break your family apart, giving you enough problems to keep you focusing on them instead of him. But fret not, even if it already happened, with his death, your cousin will have no reason to follow him in a twisted type of loyalty Littlefinger could manipulate him into thinking so.”

Lord Royce scowled but nodded in thanks. I didn't know his relationship with his cousin, but I knew I could trust him to take care of it himself.

“As for you, Lord Hunter.” I continued, “I'm afraid you are in danger.”

The “young” Lord Hunter's unflappable face twisted harshly, but he tried his best to keep a neutral facade. He was almost fifty years old and looked his age; the years had not been kind to him. His ascendancy to the lordship was filled with hardship thanks to his younger brothers, who accused him of killing his father. I knew it wasn't the truth, and many of the lords supported him during that time, but every whisper and gossip hurt him more than he would admit. It was admirable, to be honest. He led one of the strongest houses of the Vale, and his family and vassals specialized in something I direly lacked in my army. Every kingdom had its fair share of archers, but almost no family specialized in that art. It was said that a single archer of the Hunter house counted for five archers of any other kingdom. I knew that I was a better shot, but that was thanks to the admittedly cheating power I had. I was sure that if I were to gain his support in future battles, my generals and I would have another way of defeating our foes without risking the infantry that much.

They could be instrumental in the invasion of the Iron Islands. Thanks to my creations, the products  I could get would probably triplicate their efficiency in battle, and they would have many uses in taking a fort. Since I wasn't going to go incognito on the island and my plan was to exterminate most of the iron born, the attacks would be bloodier than usual, even with my power.

I needed to worry about Euron and the other brother, whose name I didn't remember. He was a drowned priest who had prophetic dreams. He wasn't mentioned much in the original series, but because this world I lived in was more mystical than the series, he could be a problem. He might be the counterpart of Melisandre, just for the Drowned God.

The only thing that relieved me was the knowledge that Gods could not directly influence the mortal world, as explained during my meeting with the Old Gods in the Isle of Faces. Still, even if they couldn't affect the events directly, it was obvious that there were other ways to do so. I was a clear example of it, after all. I was the champion of the Old Gods,  which means that the rest of the Divines in Planetos must be capable of doing the same. The only advantage I had was that it didn't look like the rest of the Gods wished to name champions in the mortal world, and since most of the religions were “small,” the power they could dish out was minimal.

Since the belief in the Old Gods has been growing a lot during my campaign thanks to my actions and the green men, I hoped that the blessing they gave me would strengthen. I have already noticed some of the changes that have happened to my body since Harrenhal. I was stronger than before, easily stronger than an average adult by a large margin, even if I was barely fifteen years old. I wasn't as strong as the mountain, but I could probably give Sandor Clegane a run for his money in a hand-to-hand fight; while I wasn't exactly as strong as him, I was close enough to narrow the gap between us, thanks to my technique.

Besides my physical strength, my stamina had improved by leaps and bounds, and I was way too healthy, according to our healers. My warging powers had also increased; they were strong enough that I could feel Shadow in the back of my mind, and we were pretty far away from each other. Shadow stayed back at Harrenhal, guarding the crucial hostages just in case the guards weren't enough; it also served as a warning to everyone there that I had a presence in the castle even if I wasn't there. My people knew enough of the legends of the North to understand that I could see through my companion's eyes, and slowly, it became common knowledge amongst my forces.

Other changes occurred, but they were small enough that they didn't affect my actions for now. I hoped that the stronger the Old Gods became, the more my abilities could evolve, but I could not rush that. If I wanted to maintain a peaceful rise to power, I needed to change things slowly. Rushing would only make me more enemies than the ones I already had.

With my inner ramblings, it appeared that I forgot to continue explaining, so I shook my head and focused on the frowning Lord, who was looking at me quizzically.

“As I said, Lord Hunter, you are the most in danger, but not exactly thanks to Littlefinger. You are right; your father didn't die of old age; he was assassinated, and while I don't know who exactly it was, I know you already know who my suspects are. If you start to rise under my banner rapidly, the responsible for your father’s death could make a move. It is your choice how you wish to proceed.” I continued, “If you wish for my support, you will have it, but I will understand if you wish to proceed by yourself; after all, family matters are complicated.”

His face filled with fury, and before slumping on his seat, he nodded in silence, “I will think about it, your grace. You will have my answer when you return.”

“It's all right, my Lord.” I gave him an apologetic smile. “As for the rest of you, I haven't heard much, but I ask you to be vigilant. Petyr Baelish is a cockroach, and I'm sure he has contingencies in case his plans go awry. I promise you his head, but I am not all-knowing, so we need to be careful.”

The Lords Declarant nodded firmly. “Since we are done here, and the rite of hospitality was finished outside, you can follow my servants to your rooms, you can stay however long you would like, and no harm shall befall you inside my castle,” said Lord Redfort grandly, motioning toward the team of servants inside the room. The Lady of the castle nodded with a sweet smile, and she made a signal with her hand.

“Lara, Mary, would you be willing to lead our visitors?” she continued with a smile.

The Erye

Two weeks later

Lysa Arryn.

“What is going on, my love,” I asked fearfully, “I heard screams while trying to sleep! We need to go to sweet Robin’s room! I told you he should be with me; I knew danger was around us!”

Petyr, my beloved, frowned deeply, “I don't know what is going on, Lysa. But you are right; something isn't right.”

“Do you think it is Lord Royce?” I asked with a shiver. “You assured me that everything was under your control!”

“Calm yourself, woman,” Petyr said firmly, “Nothing good will happen if you keep acting like this. Keep silent, I have a group of knights who will protect us from anything.”

Petyr started walking rapidly toward the other side of the castle where the knights he was speaking about were resting. I wouldn't say I liked their presence in the castle since Petyr gave them more attention than me, but if they managed to keep us and my sweet Robin safe, I would accept them.

I hurriedly walked behind him, praying to the seven that our guards would defeat whoever was attacking us in the castle. It was stupid. The Erye was one of the most defensive castles in Westeros, and the only time it failed was during the conquest, and that was because of the dragons.

I could sometimes hear screams of anguish, filled with despair, and the sound of swords clashing against each other; the sound reminded me of all the tourneys I attended in my youth.

I was afraid for my life, the life of my son, and my beautiful Petyr. I knew that I had done many wrongs, but it was all for love, for the man who took my purity, the man who I gave my heart to.

Petyr had many enemies, but he had the support of the crown. That must mean something, I thought fretfully.

“We're here,” Petyr murmured, putting his hand on my mouth to keep me from speaking.

“Ser Harlan, we need your aid,” Petyr whispered harshly. The sounds of battle stopped, and a deadly silence filled the castle. I was getting more scared by the second I wanted to have sweet Robin in my arms.

Ser Harlan opened the door, with more knights following after him. They all were already suited for battle, and before long, the twenty knights followed us to Sweet Robin chambers. My heart was pounding inside my chest, and I kept praying that my little son would be all right.

When we were outside his room, I couldn't contain my worry, so I opened it quickly. My breath quickened when I noticed that no one was inside; my sweet Robin was missing, and I started weeping.

Sounds reached us, and Petyr took the lead once more.

“If he is not here, they must have taken him with them; let's follow the sound.” He ordered harshly, but I noticed the tremble of his voice.

“Will he be alright, Petyr?” I asked, fearing the answer.

“He is the heir of the Vale, Lysa; he must be safe. He is worth more that way.” Petyr tried to calm me down, but the detached way he spoke about my baby filled me with fear. It was as if he didn't care for him. His eyes started moving, looking for an escape route, but he continued toward the sound.

Before long, we reached the main hall, and the sound of my baby giggles reached my ears. He sounded like normal, but the sound of his laughter filled me with wrath. He was laughing harder than ever in the presence of his captors. I would make sure that they pay for this transgression.

Petyr motioned for Ser Harlan to open the door, but the scene inside filled my veins with ice.

In the Throne, a young man was sitting; he was tapping his fingers in the armrest, and he had my baby sitting on his lap. At each of his sides were two persons dressed in dark clothes. All of them had their faces covered up with wooden masks and cowls to hide their hair. One of them was almost the size of the mountain, but he was way too skinny to be him.

“Who are you people?” I shouted toward them as we entered the hall, the knights behind me taking their swords out and spacing around the room. “What are you doing to my sweet little Robin? I will have your heads on spikes for this.”

“He seems to be having fun,” the man sitting on the throne replied, the Smile on his face clear from his tone of voice even if I couldn't see it. “Are you having fun, Robin? " he asked as he tickled my baby.

Robin burst into a fit of giggles and squirmed in the young man's lap.

“Release my son, you bastard,” I shouted.

They ignored me.

“And look who we have here.” The man on the throne continued, “Petyr Baelish, I've heard so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Petyr began, and I was filled with frustration. My baby was in front of us, and we had the number to our advantage. He was doing nothing to save my sweet boy.

“On the contrary, my Lord,” the man drawled. “I've heard you have more gold than most people in Westeros, and I'm sure you will ransom this boy handsomely.”

“Is that what you are after? Gold? I have more gold than you can imagine; you could work for me, and I would give you more than you could spend in your lifetime.” Petyr smiled neutrally, but his eyes were darting around, “Is that all your group? You would be good if you managed to enter the castle with only five people. I need people like you under my employ.”

“Oh, we are the best, I assure you.” The leader continued before standing up. He had a giant sword on its scabbard. I wasn't an expert in weapons, but it reminded me of the sword Ser Corbray always flaunted.

“Do you have any victories under your belt, then? I've never heard about your group before.” Petyr continued, and I began to feel something was wrong. If they wanted gold, there were better ways to approach us; this wasn't right.

“Oh, you have heard of us.” The leader continued approaching us, “You know my family personally, my Lord.”

“Oh?” Petyr asked. He was shifting more and more, and his nervousness was skyrocketing.

“Yes, my uncle and my father specifically.” The man stopped in his tracks in front of the twenty guards. “Maybe this will give you an idea.”

“Attack,” Barked Petyr with urgency and made it run away to the door, but it was filled with a dark substance that blocked it. Many of the torches dimmed instantly, so I could not recognize what it was, but I could see something that blocked all the light from the corridor.

The four companions did not move an inch while the leader took out his sword. It was even more beautiful than I imagined, but even the image of the sword could not win against the scene before me.

The man ran faster than anyone I've ever seen in any tournament. He put his sword horizontally before he reached the first knight and slashed. Ser Harlan could not even lift his sword fast enough to defend himself, and he found himself with the sword reaching his midsection. It almost cut him in two.

The leader tsked before taking his sword out of the gurgling knight. “I guess I'm not strong enough yet.”

With that said, he charged toward the nearest knight, readying a slash to cut his shoulder in a single movement. The knight was ready for it, but his sword left his hand with a clang and a pained groan from the knight. The masked man moved back fast as he punctured the neck of the knight and separated from its shoulders in one swift movement.

The gruesome scene made me lurch in disgust as blood sprayed from the headless corpse before it could even reach the floor. In that movement of my head, I noticed Petyr punching the black wall, blocking the entrance with a gloomy face to no avail, tears flowing from his eyes.

The knights trembled, and some dropped their weapons in fear. The sound was loud inside my head, signifying their surrender to the force of nature we were trapped with.

“A million Gold dragons,” Screamed Petyr from the door, “A million gold dragons if you kill him!”

The knights who didn't surrender, which were no more than five, shuddered in their spots before their faces filled with greed.

A sound attracted my attention; my sweet Robin was clapping in the gruesome scene with joy in his eyes. The other young man in the group had him in his arms.

They were silent. The only sound from their direction was their breathing, and my baby whooped with joy.

“Come at the same time, make it interesting.” The leader laughed, uncaring of the five men's movement in unison, their intentions clear. Their greed for gold overlaps their fear of death.

They all attacked from different directions, but no sword met its mark; the masked youth either weaved through their slashes or parried them with elegance; it was a beautiful scene that reminded me of the tales of the sword of the morning. I remember him fighting in the tourney of Harrenhal in almost the same circumstances; he was besieged by multiple enemies in hopes of defeating the legendary king's guard, and he used both swords to defend and attack simultaneously.

The difference this time was that it looked like the masked youth could see the future; he started moving away from the swords even before the Vale knights started moving, and no one could even scratch him as he began to dispose of them one by one.

Before long, the room was filled with the smell of iron, shit, and vomit, multiple appendages removed from their bodies, heads, arms, hands, legs, you name it. I was only one of those who vomited at the scene. Peter wasn't trying to run anymore, sitting listlessly on the ground.

“Bravo, Bravo,” clapped one of the masked men on the left of the throne. His voice was familiar, but in my shock, I couldn't recognize it.

“This was the best fight I've ever seen.” Clapped one on the left, and I gasped, hearing a woman's voice. She was fidgeting on her spot and rubbing her legs nervously.

The one at her side, who was holding my baby, looked at her before moving away from the clearly deranged woman.

“Who are you people?” I asked in despair, “What do you want from us?” I cried.

“We want justice, " the leader replied before reaching for his mask with one hand. He was dripping blood, but none was his. Given his form, he looked like a stranger.

“My dear Aunt,” the red-haired youth whispered predatorily, and I felt my body seize in terror.