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Chapter 76 - A Sister's Madness

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The mountain path wound treacherously beneath grey skies as Lysa Arryn and her retinue made their way to the designated meeting point. Her hands clutched the reins so tightly her knuckles had turned white, and every few minutes, her eyes darted nervously to the clouds above.

"My lady," Bronze Yohn Royce's deep voice cut through her anxious thoughts. "We should reach the meeting point within the hour."

"This is madness," Lysa snapped, her voice shrill. "We should have stayed in the Eyrie. The Eyrie has never fallen—"

"The Eyrie has never faced dragons, my lady," Lady Anya Waynwood interrupted firmly. "And I, for one, would prefer not to be the first to test its defenses against dragonfire."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, making Lysa flinch. Or was it thunder? Every sound from above made her heart race now, ever since the massive black beast had appeared over the Vale three days ago, its wings blocking out the sun like some terrible omen.

"Petyr would know what to do," Lysa muttered, mostly to herself. "Petyr always knows..."

Lord Royce exchanged a concerned look with Lady Waynwood. "Lord Baelish has no importance here, my lady. We must make this decision ourselves."

"The girl demands we kneel," Lord Horton Redfort growled. "The Vale has not bent the knee since Aegon's Conquest."

"And what did Visenya Targaryen do then, Lord Redfort?" Lady Waynwood asked sharply. "She flew her dragon to the Eyrie, and the young king took one ride on Vhagar's back. That was all it took for the Vale to kneel."

A young knight at the rear of their party suddenly called out, "Riders approaching!"

The Vale party drew their horses to a halt. Through the mountain mist, figures on horseback emerged. At their head rode a small woman with silver-gold hair that seemed to glow even in the dim light. Beside her rode a towering knight in white armor, and behind them came twenty mounted men bearing the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen.

Lysa's stomach churned when she spotted not only the Targaryen banners but also the leaping trout of House Tully. Her own family had come to witness her submission.

"Sister!" Edmure Tully's voice carried across the clearing as the parties drew closer. He sat astride his horse next to the silver-haired Dragon Princess, while the Blackfish and Catelyn flanked them on either side.

Lysa's hands tightened on her reins. Of all the complications, facing her family hadn't been one she'd prepared for. The Blackfish's sharp eyes seemed to pierce right through her, just as they had when she was a girl and he'd caught her in some mischief.

"Lady Arryn," Daenerys Targaryen's clear voice cut through the tension. "Your family was kind enough to accompany me. They spoke most eloquently of the Vale's importance to the realm."

"Did they?" Lysa's voice came out higher than she'd intended. She could feel Catelyn's steady gaze upon her.

The Blackfish urged his horse forward. "Come now, niece. No need for such formality. We're here to help ease this transition."

"The Vale requires no easing," Lysa snapped, then immediately regretted her tone when she saw Daenerys's eyebrow raise slightly.

Bronze Yohn Royce smoothly interjected, "What my lady means is that we understand the situation. Princess Daenerys has made her position quite clear."

"As clear as the dragon circling above us," Lady Waynwood added dryly.

As if on cue, Cannibal's shadow passed overhead, causing several horses to stamp nervously. Lysa noticed how neither Daenerys nor her Tully relatives flinched at the beast's presence.

"Sister," Catelyn spoke for the first time, her voice gentle but firm. "The North marches with House Targaryen. The Riverlands stand with them. The Vale need not stand alone."

"The Vale has always stood alone!" Lysa retorted, but Lord Royce cleared his throat meaningfully.

"Perhaps," Daenerys said, "we should continue this discussion inside. I've had pavilions prepared, and there's much to discuss about the Vale's role in the realm we're building."

As they dismounted and servants began leading their horses away, Edmure approached Lysa. "You look well, sister. Though I'd heard you rarely leave the Eyrie these days."

"The Eyrie is safe," Lysa muttered.

"No place is safe from dragons," the Blackfish commented, passing by them. "Best remember that, niece."

Inside the main pavilion, the group arranged themselves around a large table. Maps of the Seven Kingdoms had been laid out, with markers showing troop movements and allegiances. Lysa found herself seated between Catelyn and Lady Waynwood, feeling increasingly trapped.

"The situation is straightforward," Daenerys began. "King Jaehaerys advances through the The Reach. The North, Dorne, and now the Riverlands support our claim. The Vale's allegiance would complete our hold on the eastern half of Westeros."

"And if we refuse?" Lord Redfort asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

Catelyn spoke before Daenerys could respond. "Then you invite the same fate as Harrenhal. Is that what you want for the Vale, my lords? For the Eyrie?"

"Cat," Lysa began, but her sister cut her off.

"No, Lysa. You must hear this. We're your family. We're here to help you make the right choice – the only choice."

The Blackfish leaned forward. "Your son Robin will need strong allies in the years to come. The Vale cannot remain isolated forever."

Lysa felt tears threatening to form. Everything was slipping away from her control. She forced herself to take a deep breath, to think clearly. "And my son's position would be secure?"

"Guaranteed," Daenerys confirmed. "In fact, I would welcome him at court when he's older. The realm needs to be united not just through force, but through friendship and family."

"Family," Edmure emphasized the word, looking meaningfully at his sister. "Duty. Honor."

The Tully words struck Lysa like physical blows. She looked around the table, saw the expectant faces of her lords, the encouraging looks from her family, and the careful neutrality in Daenerys's expression. Above them, Cannibal's roar echoed off the mountains.

"The Vale," she finally said, her voice barely steady, "will bend the knee to House Targaryen."

"A wise choice," Daenerys smiled. "Now, shall we discuss the details of this new alliance?"

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur of agreements and arrangements. Lysa spoke only when necessary, letting Lord Royce handle most of the negotiations. She was acutely aware of the Blackfish watching her throughout, his expression thoughtful.

When they finally emerged from the pavilion, the sun was setting behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of blood and gold. Cannibal's massive form was visible now, perched on a nearby peak like some monstrous sentinel.

"We'll feast together tonight," Daenerys announced. "To celebrate the Vale's return to the realm."

As servants began preparing for the evening's festivities, Catelyn drew Lysa aside. "You did well today, sister. Father would be proud."

Lysa nearly laughed at that. If their father knew everything... but no, she couldn't think about that now. Couldn't think about any of it. Instead, she forced a smile and said, "The Vale must look to the future."

She watched as her family mingled with her lords, as Daenerys charmed them all with her grace and quiet strength, as the shadow of the dragon above reminded them all of the power behind the pleasant words.

Night

The great pavilion glowed warmly against the darkening mountain sky, filled with the sounds of cups clinking and careful conversation. Lysa sat at the high table, watching the proceedings with barely concealed anxiety. She'd positioned herself between Lady Waynwood and Lord Redfort, trying to maintain distance from her family, but the Blackfish had other ideas.

"You're brooding worse than Hoster ever did," her uncle said, claiming the empty seat across from her. He filled her cup with Arbor gold without asking. "Though I suppose recent events would make anyone brood."

"I don't wish to discuss recent events," Lysa replied tightly, though she took a long drink of the wine.

Further down the table, Edmure was regaling some Vale lords with tales of recent battles, while Catelyn and Daenerys spoke quietly together, occasionally glancing in Lysa's direction. The sight made her stomach clench.

"Strange," the Blackfish mused, swirling his wine. "How you left King's Landing so suddenly after Jon's death. Cat wrote to you three times, you know. No response."

Lysa's hand tightened around her cup. "I was grieving."

"Were you?" The Blackfish's sharp eyes studied her face. "I remember when you were a girl, you could never lie worth a damn. Your chin would tremble, just like it's doing now."

She forced her expression to stillness, but was saved from responding when Daenerys stood, causing a hush to fall over the gathering.

"My lords and ladies of the Vale," the Dragon Princess began, "tonight we celebrate not conquest, but reunion. The joining of old blood with new purpose." She raised her cup. "To the Vale, and to family."

"To family," the hall echoed. Lysa's voice was barely a whisper.

Catelyn chose that moment to approach, taking the seat beside the Blackfish. "Do you remember," she said to Lysa, "when we were girls and would sneak down to the kitchens at Riverrun? You always insisted we bring extra tarts for—"

"I remember nothing of the sort," Lysa cut her off sharply. Several nearby lords glanced their way.

Catelyn's expression softened. "Lysa, we're trying to help you. Whatever happened in King's Landing—"

"Nothing happened in King's Landing," Lysa snapped, too quickly. "My husband died. I left. There's nothing more to discuss."

Above them, Cannibal's roar shook the pavilion. Lysa used the momentary distraction to stand, meaning to flee, but Edmure appeared at her elbow.

"Dance with your brother, Lysa," he said, his smile warm but his tone brooking no argument. "For old times' sake."

As he led her to where others were beginning to dance, Edmure spoke quietly. "You know, I saw Baelish in King's Landing before all this started. He asked about you."

Lysa missed a step, but Edmure steadied her. "Did he?" she managed to say.

"Seemed very interested in your welfare. In your movements." Edmure's eyes, so like their father's, held hers. "Interesting, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know," Lysa said faintly. Over Edmure's shoulder, she could see Daenerys watching their exchange with those unsettling violet eyes.

The music ended, and Lysa pulled away from her brother. But before she could retreat, Catelyn was there again.

"Your son," her sister said softly. "How is he handling all this?"

"Robin is... safe. In the Eyrie." Lysa's voice cracked slightly. "Where he belongs."

"Perhaps he could foster at Riverrun," Catelyn suggested. "With family. Away from the... isolation of the Eyrie."

"No!" Lysa's response was too loud, drawing looks. More quietly, she added, "No, thank you. Robin needs... special care."

The Blackfish appeared with more wine. "Special care, or special protection? From what, Lysa?"

She felt trapped, cornered by their concern, their questions, their knowing looks. Even the Vale lords were watching now, and Daenerys had begun making her way toward their group.

"I'm tired," Lysa announced suddenly. "If you'll excuse me..."

"Of course," Daenerys said, arriving just then. "Though perhaps tomorrow, Lady Arryn, you and I might break our fast together? There are certain matters about King's Landing I'd like to discuss. Privately."

The threat in those last words was velvet-covered steel. Lysa managed a nod before practically fleeing the pavilion, the sound of conversation and music following her into the night.

She had to be stronger. Had to guard her secrets better. For Robin's sake. For her own sake.

Later

The cool mountain air helped clear Lysa's head as she stood on the balcony outside the feast pavilion. Below, the Vale's terrain stretched out like a dark tapestry under the stars, while Cannibal's massive form was barely visible on a distant peak.

"Lysa?" Catelyn's voice came softly from behind her. "Are you feeling better?"

Edmure appeared alongside their sister, offering Lysa a fresh cup of wine. "You looked like you needed some air."

"I'm fine," Lysa managed a small smile, accepting the wine. "Just... overwhelmed. It's been quite a day."

"Do you remember," Edmure said, leaning against the balcony rail, "when we used to play dragons in the godswood? Cat would always be Visenya."

"And you insisted on being Aegon," Catelyn laughed softly. "Though you were terrible at giving commands."

The memories washed over Lysa like warm water. "I wanted to be Rhaenys," she murmured. "Because she was the prettiest."

For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, until Catelyn spoke again, her voice gentle but serious. "Father asked about you, before we left Riverrun."

Lysa's fingers tightened around her cup. "Did he?"

"He's not well, Lysa." Catelyn placed a hand on her sister's arm. "The maesters say... they say it won't be long now."

"Oh." The word came out small and lost. What would Petyr do? The thought came unbidden, as it always did in moments of uncertainty.

"You should come home," Edmure said. "To say goodbye, at least."

Lysa shook her head, perhaps too quickly. "I can't. Robin needs me here. He's... delicate. The journey would be too much for him."

"Then bring him with you," came the Blackfish's gravelly voice as he joined them on the balcony. "Might do the boy good to see something besides mountains and sky for once."

Stay in the Eyrie until I send word, Petyr had written. Trust no one else's counsel but mine.

"No," Lysa said, more firmly. "The Vale needs its Lord Protector present, especially now with all these changes. And Robin... he has his treatments, his schedule..."

"Treatments?" The Blackfish's eyebrows rose. "For what exactly?"

"His... his nerves. His shaking. He needs specific care, specific..." Lysa could hear her voice rising slightly, forced herself to calm down.

"There are maesters in Riverrun," Catelyn said softly. "Good ones. And family to help care for him."

"No, you don't understand." Lysa stepped back from them. "He needs me. Only me. I know what's best for him."

"Do you?" The Blackfish's voice cut through her protests like a sword. "Or is there another reason you won't leave that fortress of yours?"

Lysa felt the blood drain from her face. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't you?" Her uncle's eyes were sharp as flint. "You've been jumping at shadows all evening, girl. Looking over your shoulder like you expect to find someone watching. What exactly is your problem, Lysa?"

"I don't have a problem," but her voice cracked on the last word.

"Lysa," Catelyn reached for her, but Lysa jerked away.

"You don't understand," she repeated, feeling the walls closing in. "None of you understand. I have to stay. I have to... to protect Robin. To keep him safe."

"Safe from what?" The Blackfish pressed.

From everyone? Lysa thought hysterically. From dragons? From Targaryens? From the truth about what she'd done to Jon Arryn? From what would happen when Petyr's plans were revealed?

"From everything!" she burst out. "The world isn't safe. King's Landing wasn't safe. The Vale... the Vale is all we have."

"The world's changing, niece," the Blackfish said more gently. "Dragons have returned. The old alliances are shifting. Hiding in the mountains won't protect you or Robin forever."

"Uncle's right," Edmure added. "The Vale has bent the knee now. You're part of something larger again, whether you like it or not."

Lysa took another step back, feeling the railing press against her spine. "You don't understand," she whispered again, but the words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

"Then help us understand," Catelyn pleaded. "We're family, Lysa. Whatever it is, whatever happened in King's Landing..."

"Nothing happened in King's Landing!" Lysa's voice rose sharply, drawing looks from inside the pavilion. More quietly, she added, "Nothing that matters now."

"My lady?" A new voice interrupted them, and Lysa nearly sobbed with relief as she turned to see one of Daenerys's attendants. "The Princess requests your presence. She wishes to discuss arrangements for tomorrow's formal submission."

"Of course," Lysa said quickly, already moving toward the pavilion. "Please excuse me, family. Duty calls."

She fled into the warm light of the feast, feeling their eyes on her back, knowing she'd revealed too much and too little all at once. But it didn't matter. Soon she would sign the papers, make her submission, and return to the Eyrie. To safety. To waiting for Petyr's next letter, next plan, next promise.

Behind her, she heard the Blackfish say quietly to her siblings, "Something's very wrong there."

"Should we tell the Princess?" Edmure asked.

"Not yet," Catelyn replied. "But we need to watch her. For her own good."

Lysa pretended not to hear, pretended not to feel the weight of their concern, their suspicion. Above them all, Cannibal's roar echoed off the mountains, a reminder that nothing was safe anymore, not even secrets.

She sat back with the others, the Princess or Queen or whatever she was, was talking with Lord Royce and Lady Anya. A couple of other lords and ladies were also listening to Princess Daenerys talk.

"When King's Landing falls," Daenerys said, her violet eyes reflecting the candlelight, "there will be a great gathering. All houses of Westeros will come to swear their fealty in person before the Iron Throne."

Lysa felt her throat constrict. The pavilion suddenly seemed too warm, too crowded. Stay in the Eyrie, Petyr's words echoed in her mind. Wait for my signal.

"My son," she began carefully, "his health is delicate. Perhaps I could send representatives—"

"That is out of the question." Daenerys's voice cut through her excuse like Valyrian steel. The Dragon Princess's expression remained pleasant, but her tone brooked no argument. "Every lord and lady paramount must attend. This is not a request, Lady Arryn."

The lords and ladies of the Vale shifted in their seats, watching the exchange. Lord Royce cleared his throat. "Your Grace, perhaps arrangements could be made for Lord Robin's comfort during the journey—"

"Of course," Daenerys smiled. "We will ensure every accommodation is made for your son's welfare." She paused, taking a sip of wine. "In fact, I have several announcements regarding the future governance of the realm. Your uncle, Ser Brynden, has agreed to serve as Master of Laws on the small council."

A murmur of approval went through the Vale lords. The Blackfish was well-respected, known for his honor and fairness. Lysa saw her uncle incline his head in acknowledgment, while Edmure beamed with pride.

"The realm needs steady hands to guide it in the coming years," Daenerys continued. "We're building something new from the ashes of the old. Which means certain... changes will need to be made."

The words tumbled from Lysa's lips before she could stop them: "What about Petyr?"

The pavilion went silent. Lysa felt her sister's sharp intake of breath beside her, saw the Blackfish's eyes narrow dangerously.

Daenerys's brow furrowed slightly. "Petyr?"

"Lord Baelish," the Blackfish explained, his voice carefully neutral. "Currently serves as Master of Coin under Robert Baratheon."

"Ah." Daenerys studied Lysa's face with new interest. "And why does the Lady of the Vale concern herself with the fate of Robert's Master of Coin?"

Lysa felt herself flushing under that penetrating gaze. "I... we grew up together. At Riverrun. He's... a friend of the family."

"Is he?" Daenerys asked softly, and something in her tone made Lysa's skin crawl. "Well, to answer your question, Lady Arryn, there will be an entirely new small council. Lord Baelish's services will no longer be required."

"But he's brilliant with coin!" The words burst out before Lysa could stop them. "He's increased the crown's revenues tenfold! He's—"

"Lysa." Catelyn's warning voice cut through her sister's increasing hysteria.

"I must insist," Lysa pressed, her voice taking on a desperate edge. "Petyr is brilliant with finances. The crown's revenues—"

"Enough." Daenerys's voice was quiet but firm. "Whoever this Petyr is, he will not retain his position. That is final."

"No!" Lysa's cry echoed through the pavilion. "You can't do that!"

Cannibal's roar shook the very foundations of the tent, and the temperature seemed to drop as Daenerys's violet eyes hardened. "I cannot? You forget yourself, Lady Arryn. You forget who you speak to."

"Lysa, please," Catelyn reached for her sister's arm. "Stop talking—"

"You'll ruin everything we planned!" Lysa wrenched away from her sister, her voice rising hysterically. "Everything we worked for!"

Lord Royce stepped forward, his face grave. "What plans do you speak of, my lady?"

Other Vale lords were rising from their seats now, faces confused, suspicious.

Lysa backed away from them all, her eyes wild. "If you hadn't come," she pointed a shaking finger at Daenerys, "if your dragons hadn't appeared, everything would have worked! The war would have happened, and Petyr would be with me!"

"What war?" The Blackfish's voice cut through the growing murmurs, sharp and careful. "What war are you talking about, Lysa?"

Something seemed to break inside Lysa then. She let out a sound between a laugh and a sob. "I did what he asked! I put the tears in Jon's wine, just like Petyr said. I wrote the letter to the Starks blaming the Lannisters, just like he planned. The war was supposed to start, but then..." she gestured wildly at Daenerys, "then YOU came with your dragons before Robert could even leave King's Landing!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Catelyn had gone white as snow. Edmure's mouth hung open. The Vale lords stood frozen in horror.

"You..." The Blackfish's voice was barely a whisper. "You killed Jon Arryn?"

"For Petyr!" Lysa's voice had taken on a strange, sing-song quality. "He promised we'd be together once it was done. Once the realm was torn apart by war, he'd come for me. For us. But now..." She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly. "Now the dragons have ruined everything."

"Seize her," Lord Royce's command broke the silence. Guards moved forward, but Lysa didn't seem to notice.

"He loves me," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "He's always loved me. Since we were children. Everything I did, I did for him..."

"Take her to the cells," Daenerys commanded. "Post guards. She is not to be allowed any means of communication."

As the guards led Lysa away, she began to laugh, a high, broken sound. "You don't understand," she called back over her shoulder. "None of you understand. Love is poison! Everything we planned..." Lysa was almost hysterical now, "Petyr and I... our son needed to be safe..."

The room went deadly quiet. Catelyn's hand shot up, stopping the guards from carrying her away. "What did you just say?"

Lysa blinked, confusion momentarily breaking through her hysteria. "What?"

Others looked between the sisters, puzzled. "Lady Stark?" Lord Royce questioned.

Catelyn's eyes never left her sister's face. "You said 'our son.' What did you mean by that, Lysa? Since when do you have a son with Petyr Baelish?"

The color drained from Lysa's face so rapidly that Catelyn thought she might faint. The Blackfish inhaled sharply, realization dawning in his weathered features.

Lord Royce was the first to explode. "YOUR SICK CHILD!" his voice thundered through the pavilion. "He's not Jon Arryn's son at all, is he? He's your bastard with Littlefinger!"

The pavilion erupted. Vale lords and ladies leaped to their feet, faces contorted with fury. Jon Arryn had been loved by almost everyone at the Vale, and to hear that his own wife killed him and try to put a bastard as his legitimate son.

"No!" Lysa screamed, trying to rush forward but held back by guards. "Don't you dare speak of my sweet Robin that way! He's perfect! He's special!"

Edmure staggered back into his chair, while Catelyn pressed her hands to her mouth in horror. The Blackfish stood rigid, his face a mask of cold fury.

Daenerys raised a hand, and the chaos subsided slightly. "These are serious accusations," she said, her voice level. "Do we have proof of this, or is it merely the ravings of a disturbed woman?"

Lord Royce stepped forward, his voice shaking with controlled rage. "The boy has always been sickly, Your Grace. His... his mind is not right. We attributed it to being coddled, but..." He straightened his shoulders. "Jon Arryn's eyes were blue, as are Lady Arryn's. But young Robert's eyes are grey-green – the same unusual shade as Petyr Baelish's."

"He's lying!" Lysa shrieked. "They're all lying! My sweet Robin is perfect!"

"The timing fits," Lady Waynwood added, her voice cold. "She was at Riverlands with both men when the boy would have been conceived."

Daenerys absorbed this information, her face unreadable. "The child will not be harmed," she declared finally. "Whatever his parentage, he is innocent of his mother's crimes." She paused, meeting the eyes of the Vale lords. "However, if these accusations prove true, he cannot remain Lord of the Vale. A bastard born of adultery and treason has no claim to the title."

"No!" Lysa lunged against the guards holding her. "You can't take this from him! From us! Petyr promised—"

"Enough!" Lord Royce's voice cracked like a whip. "You've betrayed everything the Vale stands for. Everything Lord Arryn stood for."

"Take her to the cells," Daenerys commanded. "And once King's Landing is reconquered, Petyr Baelish will be executed for treason against The Vale."

As the guards dragged Lysa away, her screams echoing through the pavilion, Catelyn turned to her uncle, tears in her eyes. "All these years... how did we not see?"

"Because we saw what we wanted to see," the Blackfish replied grimly. "And Petyr Baelish is very good at making people see what he wants them to see."

Daenerys turned to Lord Royce. "You will serve as Regent of the Vale until a proper heir can be determined."

The Vale lords nodded grimly, while Lysa's screams faded into the distance, her final words echoing: "He loves me! He's always loved me! You'll see!"

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