The Gates of the Moon

Anya fell silent after the soft words were spoken by Sansa. Morton, her son, handed her a handkerchief which she used to wipe the sweat off of her neck. She had acquired Baelish's underhanded tactics and, for that, the old hag would keep her silence now. As the feast began to resume, Harrold finally stood, causing silence to resume once more. Harry turns to Sansa, raising his glass to her.

To you, Lady Stark. Seven be fortunate that you are among us.

He turns slightly to face Lord Baelish.

Seven blessings be upon you, Lord Baelish, for keeping her safe.

He turns then to all gathered.

And may the Seven bless us in our union to come!

Harrold raises his glass and drinks from it. He had no choice but to be merry and happy, accepting what had transpired beyond his ability. When he hears the words of his betrothed, his blue eyes look between Sansa, then at Lord Baelish. He glances slightly at Lady Waynwood, but only for a split second. She had been his mentor as long as he could remember. The Waynwoods were his family after all, his cousins. The young Hardyng looks in the direction of Sansa and Baelish.

I... I still plan to rely upon Lady Waynwood. She and her family are my family too after all.

He seems rather hesitant and unsure of himself. Yohn's words spoke to him in that moment.

I do believe that I should try to rule as my own man. Waynwood was a good mentor and I thank her for that.

Harry then turns to Lord Baelish.

Just as Lord Baelish was a good Lord Protector. If I am to be my own man, then I need neither mentor nor protector.

The young Valeman looks up at Sansa, listening to the words of advice from Lord Royce within his mind. He spoke just as loud as Sansa did.

After all, you said, that a man grown and a lord needs no wardens.

The words of Harrold caused Anya, and her sons, to suddenly look at the young man.

"This is all well and good, aye. Congratulations Lord Harrold"

Templeton rose from his seat

"But will we continue to sit on our asses while war ravages the rest of the Kingdoms? There are three kings now and all of them demand our allegiance, we cannot afford to continue to be neutral."

Baelish remains silent and sips some wine.

"A man of tradition, the most honorable Yohn Royce"

He said.

"You forgot we're ruled from King's Landing and that, in feudal law, a liege has to allow the inheritance to pass from a lord to another. Primogeniture has been functioning for centuries, but, still, the sovereign must settle the affair. Thus, the Lord Regent's word must be contemplated as law, Lord Royce"

He raises his cup.

"However, I salute our Arryn-blooded Harrold Hardying, soon to become my nephew by law, and wish him a fair rule"

Petyr sips.

"Also, you should not dithe eitherr, Lord Royce, the clansmen are waiting and are a threat to the Vale as a whole, dear Lady Lysa saw clear through that. You waited for months to march and sat in the Gates. However, in the morn our most glorious commander should be ready to raise our banners"

Ser Templeton, I am merely doing what is right and asserting myself as Lord of the Vale. We are all adults here, indeed, but though I am to lose my warden, I should not lose my Lord Protector? Tell me, am I not a man? Am I not to be the Lord Paramount and deserve to rule as my own person?

Harrold says, looking at the Knight of Ninestars. He took notice of those who supported him, gaining an advantage with the support being said in his name as heir of the Vale and the rightful one at that. Seeing their support, the confidence raised up within the young Valeman. He turns to Lord Baelish.

You see for yourself, Lord Baelish. We have no need of a Lord Protector, but a Lord Paramount, of Robert's known heir. The Vale has spoken.

The future Lord Arryn did take notice of Nestor Royce's silence. Was he remaining neutral or... no, not a time to that about that.

Baelish spoke:

"Lord Royce speaks the truth"

He looked at Royce from his seat.

"Else, we are but doomed to have this very same conversation, Seven will not, some misfortune fall on the line of Arryn"

Baelish gestured elegantly while he spoke.

"I was born a Valesman, Jon Arryn trusted me with an office within this land. I've known him and his line for many years now, the last of the Arryns was my own stepson, to have my loyalties doubted is offensive"

He leans forward.

"Don't you see I was trying to avoid this? To have you rule a disunited home, Ser Harrold? You want to be lord of the Vale, not of half of it. Extremes are not liked, neither by me, nor by many of my respected Lords and Ladies"

He gestured with a hand, making a flourish.

"Once you're wed and bedded, fathered a son we shall exorcise many of the fears that grip the hearts of our people"

He smiled slightly.

"Also, I remember vividly how brashly you charged into Lord Royce's heir and without minding protocol, customs, decorum or feudal obedience crossed steel with him. That was only a few weeks ago"

The message was clear, a boy who cannot control his temper, cannot rule.

"Guards! Stop this madness!"

Royce bellowed, turning a shade of bright red. The guards here at the Gates were in Nestor's pay, and wore his livery. They did not move. Many lords sat in their seats, agape at the spectacle. Myranda sighed, and covered her face with her hands. The fool had only proven Baelish right. Albar was laughing in his cups.


"I think Lord Harrold has had too much wine."

The Lady Royce suggested, loudly. Nestor harrumphed.

"I agree. I think the Lord Harrold needs some fresh air."

Royce moved from his seat over to where Harry was sitting.

"Up you get. Get you arse outside."

He hissed, right behind the lordling's head.