[Chapter Size: 2500 Words.]
Third Person POV.
The Vale of Arryn.
...
...
Daemon watched as Petyr Baelish was dragged into the hall. He wore a blindfold placed on him by the maester while being escorted by the guards.
Those who did not know what had happened to him could not help but stare in surprise at the man's condition. Baelish, who practically wore a smile at all times, was now only a shadow of what he had once been.
Under the angry gazes of many lords, they saw a man who possessed no more than a single tower in the Vale, and yet had managed to control practically the entire Vale until a few days ago.
The difference in status between them was far too great for the pride of any noble present.
"You did this to me," Baelish said. There was fear in his voice, mixed with hatred and frustration.
What was he now? A blind man. What value did he still hold for his plans? As he dwelled on all of this, filled with rage, he could barely believe he had fallen into such a state.
The other men exchanged surprised glances as well and remained silent. Petyr knew he was in the throne and judgment hall.
He already had a good idea that Daemon was seated in the main chair.
At the same time, he could hear Lysa's groans beside him and even Robert's sobs.
"Where was he?" Daemon asked the men.
"In the pantry," replied the man who had brought him.
Daemon cast an amused glance. "You were so desperate to escape that, when you had the opportunity, you hid yourself away, leaving Lysa to deal with us alone when the castle fell."
Daemon had seen Lysa scream and shout, trying to convince everyone to stop them from reaching this place. Surrender did not exist in that fool's mind, but her men were not fools. When the dragons, which still remained atop the rooftops awaiting Daemon's orders, appeared, everyone understood that resistance was useless.
No one wanted to be burned alive or frozen by Winter's ice.
"Anyway, you said that I did this to you? But... I don't know what you're talking about." Daemon spoke calmly.
It was a blatant lie, but everyone knew he was responsible for Baelish losing his eyes from the irony in his tone and Baelish's accusatory voice the moment he entered.
"We couldn't find Sansa, my lord." One of the knights approached, entering the hall with concern.
Daemon shook his head. "Don't worry about her. She's already in Winterfell."
The answer surprised many. After all, it had not been long since they had seen her. Especially during the tournament, some of those present had also been there only a few days before Daemon invaded the Vale with his army.
Petyr Baelish trembled upon hearing that. His last hope of survival vanished at that instant. Now he was completely crippled.
Without influence, without hostages, without cards left to play.
"Please..." he began. "I have knowledge. I have money. I know places where I hid wealth. I'll give everything to you. But please, don't kill me."
Baelish seemed to be clinging to his own life. After all, death was the end.
Daemon stared at him in silence for a long moment. "I'm not particularly interested in your excuses or your wealth, Petyr Baelish," Daemon continued.
"You've been a thorn in my side for a long time. And I say that because you conveniently omitted certain information at the castle. Information that had consequences for me, Lord Stark, and Brandon Stark, the former heir of Winterfell." He crossed his arms.
"The one you hated and who went to King's Landing, only to die there. You certainly had something against the Starks. After all, it wasn't for nothing that you were so willing to have Lord Stark killed by convincing Joffrey and seeing Ned executed..."
Daemon fell silent in thought for a moment. "I imagine it was because of Catelyn Stark."
The man trembled.
"Well... the things people do for love," Daemon added. "In any case, you already have an idea of the crimes this man committed. So why are we continuing this trial?"
He pointed toward the Moon Door. "Open the Moon Door." The moment the words left his mouth, Petyr began to tremble.
"No! You're not going to do that! Please! You don't have to go this far!" His voice became desperate.
"I can give you many things! My life must be worth more than this!" he began to shout.
Meanwhile, the Moon Door in the middle of the hall began to open. The wind from the immense drop quickly rushed into the chamber.
Lysa Arryn was practically screaming through her gag as she realized what was about to happen.
Even Daemon was already tired of that woman, but now, he wanted to be rid of that man once and for all.
Everyone watched in silence. With a single wave of his hand, Petyr Baelish began to rise from the floor. Terrified, he continued struggling as he searched for a way out.
But he was incapable of resisting the invisible force holding him.
"Please! Please!" he screamed.
Daemon positioned him above the Moon Door and then simply released his telekinesis.
Petyr plummeted. His scream echoed through the hall as he fell through the opening.
Everyone heard it. Some men even looked away, while others stared directly into the shaft.
And in the middle of the fall, something happened. A green blur appeared at incredible speed and swallowed Baelish in midair.
Then a tremendous sound came from the shaft. The men watching the opening recoiled in horror.
"A dragon!" they shouted.
"It seems Viridrax decided it was better to die between his jaws than from the fall." Daemon shook his head.
Then he turned his attention to Lysa. "Well, as everyone knows, Lysa Arryn and Petyr Baelish were responsible for the poisoning of Jon Arryn."
He spoke while the woman no longer seemed to have the strength to protest. Seeing Petyr Baelish fall through the Moon Door had left her completely hollow after her desperate scream.
Now, she simply kept her eyes fixed on the opening as she wept.
"Fool," Daemon said before continuing.
He also spoke of her negligence regarding the Vale. After all, no matter how many considered the Vale cowardly, the final decision had always been Lysa's.
Even though some lords also supported her ideas of not participating in the War of the Five Kings and later in the Blackfyre Rebellion.
"At the same time, I would proceed with Lysa's execution just as I would under any other circumstance, but I will grant a lighter punishment," Daemon said to everyone present.
"Therefore, she will be sent to the Silent Sisters, where she will live among them until the end of her days. She will have no name, wealth, lands, or power." He paused before continuing. "Just like Lady Margaery of House Tyrell and Myrcella, the queen's bastard." Everyone nodded, especially Brynden.
At that moment, Daemon was practically doing it for him. In any case, Daemon turned his attention back to Robert Arryn.
As for Lysa, she no longer seemed to care about anything.
She was practically dead inside. The voices in the hall no longer mattered; she was grieving. Even with the gag, her quiet sobbing could still be heard.
All the lords present seemed grateful to the gods that they would no longer have to deal with that woman.
As for young Robert... He had been screaming the entire time, even with the cloth in his mouth. Well, he presented a problem.
"Everyone now knows that Petyr Baelish and Lysa Arryn had been lovers. Perhaps since the time they lived in Riverrun. Lysa herself claimed that Petyr had taken her virginity. He also enjoyed talking about that at Robert Baratheon's court..."
"So it is entirely possible that Robert was fathered by him. The timing also coincided with Jon Arryn's departure for King's Landing... It is possible. Correct me if I'm wrong." Daemon addressed the lords.
They began speaking among themselves, exchanging glances and opinions. Brynden seemed conflicted, knowing that the accusations had merit.
At the same time, Robert was still his nephew. The other lords of the Vale, on the other hand, were far more inclined to believe the possibility after everything they had witnessed.
"Well, the next heir to the Eyrie would be Harrold Hardyng, Jon Arryn's great-nephew, correct?"
Daemon asked. A young man quickly stepped forward, one who had joined the army of a minor house.
"Here, Your Majesty." He knelt before the king.
"I will personally verify whether the boy before you shares Arryn blood," Daemon said while looking at the youth, about Robb's age, kneeling before him. "Even from a distance, I can determine that through... magic, so to speak."
The lords remained silent. He possessed alchemical and magical techniques that allowed for that kind of analysis.
"Even if Harrold is only a distant relative of Robert, if his blood does not match Jon Arryn's, then it means Robert is not his son." Then he turned his attention back to the boy.
"If it is proven that he is Jon Arryn's son, he will remain the heir." Then he looked at Brynden.
"If he is not... well, I will leave that decision in your hands. But he will lose the Arryn name, and Harrold Hardyng will assume the position of Lord of the Vale."
Brynden swallowed hard but nodded.
At that moment, an even more desperate scream echoed through the hall. Lysa Arryn finally seemed to understand the conversation.
"Take this woman away," Daemon said without any emotion.
She began to be dragged out while continuing to struggle. Robert was also taken back to his chambers.
Meanwhile, Daemon began discussing with the lords of the North and the Vale what should be done next.
There were some houses that had supported the capture of Lord Stark and Arya through the ship Daemon had hired, acting through Petyr Baelish. After all, he was not willing to accept Ned escaping to the North after everything that had happened.
And that matter would also need to be resolved. It was a ship Daemon had hired to help Lord Stark escape King's Landing, so they were somewhat frustrated by everything that had occurred.
In any case, he would deal with that later. For now, he continued speaking with the lords. He had to address the destruction caused by the storm he had created.
Farther north, beyond the Three Sisters Islands, at the port of White Harbor, the ships that had departed from the Crownlands carrying the northern lords and their army finally began to arrive.
This happened the day after the capture of the Eyrie.
Wylis Manderly personally went to the harbor alongside his lords. He had already received both the reports coming from King's Landing and the messages sent from Winterfell with the latest updates.
He wanted to welcome his son, who had marched south alongside Lord Stark and the others, while he himself had remained in White Harbor.
"Lord Stark!" he said cheerfully upon seeing his old friend among the first to disembark from the ship.
"Lord Manderly. How are you?"
"Well, my lord. Very well. And I am certain you are as well. I heard about the victories. From the complete reports, the North certainly earned much glory in this war."
Ned displayed a small smile. "Well, to tell the truth, we were not the center of the army, but we fought bravely." Lord Stark replied politely, without appearing overly humble or arrogant.
"Ah, yes. Yes, of course." Manderly nodded.
"I also have news that I received yesterday from Winterfell. Your daughter, Sansa, has returned. The king found her in the Eyrie and brought her back to Winterfell on his dragon, although she arrived unconscious."
"Sansa is back?" Robb immediately brightened beside his father. Ned was also surprised.
"Yes, Lord Robb. Your entire family is in Winterfell, with the exception of the two of you."
The two Starks exchanged glances before nodding. Lord Wylis greeted his son, while some lords were invited into the castle.
At the same time, the men began using the docks to disembark. The army started marching out of the city, gradually returning to their respective lands.
After some time, the Starks also departed for Winterfell along with their troops. The Manderlys accompanied them.
The journey to Winterfell lasted only a few days. After passing through the Cerwyn lands and following the roads of the North, they finally entered Stark territory.
The towers of Winterfell soon appeared on the horizon along with the beginnings of Winter Town.
"Finally home, father," Robb said.
Lord Stark merely nodded as he watched the fortress draw closer. Everyone was happy to return.
Winterfell and the town around it still bore many scars from the war. Even after six months, the damage remained visible.
Many people had lost family members and homes, whether to the Boltons or the ironborn. Even so, the town remained alive.
Little by little, families rebuilt what had been destroyed by the conflict.
"Bran seems to have taken good care of things here," Robb said with a faint smile.
He knew that Daemon had first acted as ruler, hearing the people's petitions every day while remaining in Winterfell. After that, Bran had taken on the responsibility while Robb once again marched south.
At the very least, instead of seeming like a broken man when he returned to Winterfell, Bran was now far more motivated.
Robb's former wife was now part of the Silent Sisters, and House Westerling had ceased to exist as they had known it.
There would still be work to do in deciding who would become the new Lord Westerling, the new Lord of Pyke, and the new Lord of the Twins.
But that was a problem for Daemon to solve in the south. Meanwhile, in the North, there was also the matter of who would become the new lord of the Bolton lands.
Fortunately, Lord Stark had already spoken with Daemon about who would receive each territory.
The lands of the Boltons, Dustins, Lockes, and even Moat Cailin were now areas without rulers.
Their former lords had been destroyed. Moat Cailin would also be granted to someone.
Daemon had negotiated all of that with the Starks by then, and he himself had an interest in acquiring a territory in the North as well.
Thus, they advanced toward Winterfell. As they approached, a massive dragon watched the group from afar.
They were surprised, although they understood it was the queen's dragon and that it did not care much about their arrival. In any case, the gates were soon before them, and they were finally returning home.
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