The Gates of the Moon

Chesser's Reply sent to Gandy

Lord Arryn speaks the truth. This farce is nothing short of treason. Blatantly and unequivocally. We Valemen are supposed to be honorable, but to go along with this would make us out to be thieves! The very thought filled Lord Royce with distaste.

I see some of you stand with us and I commend you. To those who do not... would you truly trade 1,000 years of loyalty and tradition for a few coins, or whatever it is he uses to hold sway over you. If this is allowed to continue, we may very well see House Arryn supplanted with House Baelish permanently, either directly or by proxy."

"Your Lord has spoken. You either stand with him or against him. It is that simple. Yohn said resolutely.

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Harry saw it now more than ever. Yohn Royce could be relied upon, but the High Steward was not. He exhales deeply, rage still coursing through him. He looked away from Sansa, turning to Nestor instead. He said quietly.

So... this is what you want. A tamed Arryn, someone to be claimed as drunk and a fool.

Harrold ignores all others, focusing his attention on the Lord of the Gates of the Moon. His voice remaining low at the table.

I was told to rely upon you, among others, to help me rule the Vale.

The Valeman sighs deeply. His rage, which was wearing off, was giving him a headache. He had tried to stand up, but, in the end, Baelish's reach was far deeper than he could have seen. He moves from his seat, pausing to look at Morton Waynwood who rises quickly. Harrold moves one seat down, looking at Nestor once more.

I will, myself, move to get some air. At least I can control my own body and where it goes.

He turns back to Baelish and then at Sansa. His blue eyes returning to Baelish.

Consider my departure to cool my head, as suggested, as a sign of my apology for my actions, within the halls of Lord Royce's castle. I had thought that if I did not need a warden, then I did not need someone to be my regent. Tomorrow, Lord Royce will command the troops to take down the barbarians within the mountains. Today, however, we should give rise to the successor. I should ascend as Robert's successor. We hardly need to wait for that with the oaths given and the support behind seeing it done. They want a Lord Arryn, not a delay. We shouldn't keep them waiting.

Harry speaks plainly for all to hear. With that, he descends. However, just before the door, he pauses and looks back.

I will marry Lady Stark... but only when she is divorced from the Imp. It is a sin against the Seven to marry another man's wife.

The Valeman then walks away with Morton in tow.

Baelish raised from his seat.

"I will not discuss this any further"

He said.

"I've been accussed of treason and worse"

He grabs the brim of his silken black cloak. Baelish looks dignified but sorrowful.

"I will keep decorum, unlike our guests here, and I shall remain within my senses. This fatigues me, to no end, my loyalty been questioned, when I labored so hard for this kingdom, the only non-ravaged by war, plague and famine"

Baelish grabs Sansa's hand.

"I shall leave for the lands of the Rivers, if this animosity towards me is perpetuated and I have to suffer so harsh comments and offenses from Ser Hardying and Yohn the Bronze"

You really were an idiot.

Morton says as he stands by the doorway. Harry was on the ramparts, getting the fresh air as suggested.

Mother's neck was sweating more than usual.

The Waynwood says as Harrold leans against the ramparts.

I did what I felt was right, okay?

Harry retorts, glancing at Morton. The knight raises his hand in a slight defense.

Hey, you do have balls though.

Morton replies with a grin, causing the young man to laugh. He needed that. Something to make him smile. Moments later, Morton notices someone approaching them from his peripherals and sees Nestor Royce. Slowly, he moves to the side, letting the Lord pass. The knight then clears his throat.

Uhhh... Harrold? You have a guest.

Morton states as Harry turns to see Nestor. His eyebrow raising slightly.

Lord Royce?

Harry looks back at the mountains from atop the ramparts.

Now I see why. Loyalty was bought... opposition silenced by coin and grants.

The young Valeman was never good with his mind, but when Royce mentioned he was given what he deserved, it made sense.

Everyone fears that I will choose a side, raise my banners, and march to fight for whoever I proclaim for. Everyone remembers how your son thoroughly crushed me and wonder if I would die easily on the field of battle. For there are men greater and stronger... and who won't bow down to a simple command of stop.

'Let the regent rule so you can father an heir.' Those repeated words caused Harrold to grit his teeth under his lips.

I just want to lead the Vale as Robert's heir. I just want to... be my own man. If I am to set Waynwood aside, then so should I set aside any other mentor.

He didn't like having someone above him. He didn't like it one bit. Harry glances at Nestor. A deep exhale followed as he knew the Steward was right.

I was told to rely on you and your counsel, by Lady Waynwood, as the longstanding steward you have been. So...I will heed your advice.

Harry had little choice. He had the support of many, from what he saw, but he was still viewed as the 'Young Falcon.' Yohn said to trust in yourself, but, how could he?

Harrold then turns and points into the castle.

But I cannot marry if she is already married, Lord Royce! Tyrion Lannister was her husband and still is her husband!

It wouldn't be a lawful marriage and, depending on who won, likely the marriage would be forcefully annulled and any heirs by her declared bastards. It would be a rough time if Harry was in his thirties or forties. If he ever lived to be that old that was. Gods he better still have his looks then.

What fears? Have I declared war? Have I drawn my sword to lead armies? How can I do any of that if I have a regent over me? All I have done is stand!

Everything would have to be done by Baelish or approved by Baelish now. These fears, that Royce mentioned, didn't make sense to the young man.

...like I have any choice though. I have to consider everything for the Vale.

Harry admits.

Surely a half-man can hide easier than a fully grown man, Lord Royce. He survived the perils of the Vale before.

Everyone in Westeros knew of the story. Somehow, and thanks to one sellsword, Tyrion managed to navigate the Vale and return to his father with a score of Mountain men who followed him into battle. They were among the fighting forces that fought at the Battle of Blackwater Bay. Still, Royce could be right. Tyrion could have died. Hell, his ship could have capsized and he be dead under the waves, being fish food.

Harrold listens to Nestor, causing him to be quiet for some time.

I hear the North grows very cold... I fear our men won't be happy if they have to march there. Plenty would die trying to get to Winterfell without a battle if the rumors be true.

He had heard the rumors. Deep and torrential snows, freezing cold weather, and a chill that could make a man's limbs stiffen if one paused for even a moment.

Does the Vale want such a war?

Harry asks, looking at the noble, and giving him some time to think.

Harrold listens to Nestor, ensuring his gaze remain fixated on Lord Royce.

Your saying wait for the right moment. Keep my silence, but only to make him believe I have bowed my head.

The Valeman looks up as a cool breeze rolls in causing a flag standard to whip violent for a moment.

I understand, Lord Royce.

There was a request to make though.

If I may, I still need to build retainers around me, Lord Royce. Can I rely upon your son, Albar?

In truth, it was a risk. Albar and him weren't on the best of terms due to recent events and, unknowingly for certain, the knight could turn into a knife in his back, but Harrold had to start someplace.