The great hall of the Eyrie.
Beyond the Moon Door, icy winds howled through the swirling snow.
The final cries of Lysa and Littlefinger still seemed to echo through the storm, lingering in every corner of the hall.
Everything had happened too quickly.
The horrifying turn of events had left everyone standing frozen in shock.
The Arryn guards looked utterly lost.
Lord Royce and the other nobles were equally stunned.
Then—
A calm, commanding voice rang through the hall like a hammer striking steel, snapping everyone back to their senses.
"What are you all standing there for?!"
Kneeling on the floor beside the bleeding Catelyn, Galon looked past Lord Royce and the others and began issuing orders.
"You there!"
"Fetch Maester Colemon immediately!"
The Arryn guards, who had only moments earlier drawn their swords, finally came to themselves.
Without another word, they turned and sprinted toward the maester's tower.
"Lord Royce!"
Galon turned to Bronze Yohn.
"Send men to find Robert Arryn at once. He must be protected."
Lord Royce's eyes immediately cleared.
Robert Arryn was the Vale's sole heir. Nothing could be allowed to happen to him.
"I'll go myself."
Leaving only a brief reply behind, he hurried away with his guards toward Robert's chambers.
"Lord Hunter. Ser Morton Waynwood.
Seal every entrance and exit to the Eyrie. Arrest every man Littlefinger brought with him.
If anyone resists... Kill them where they stand."
Lord Hunter and Ser Morton Waynwood both nodded before leading their own retainers to secure the castle.
Galon lowered his gaze to the unconscious Catelyn.
His thoughts raced.
'Littlefinger and Lysa are dead.'
'Power in the Vale will pass to Lord Royce.'
'I need to finalize the alliance as quickly as possible and persuade him to summon the banners.'
'Every day we delay gives the Lannisters another opportunity.'
Tywin's face flashed through his mind.
He knew that the old lion would strike without hesitation the moment news from the Riverlands reached him.
'As for Catelyn... I don't know whether she'll survive that stab wound.'
'If she dies too... Sansa will be devastated.'
Catelyn no longer posed any threat to Galon.
Whether from practicality or appearance, he intended to save her if he could.
Placing pressure over the wound in her chest, he did everything possible to slow the bleeding.
About three minutes later, Maester Colemon arrived at a run with his medical satchel.
He had already heard what had happened. His eyes instinctively drifted toward the Moon Door.
He sighed softly.
Not for Lysa or Littlefinger.
But for young Robert, who had just lost his mother.
"Maester!"
Galon called urgently.
"Please examine Lady Catelyn."
Colemon immediately hurried to her side. After a careful inspection, he spoke gravely.
"My lord.
Her wound is serious. I must remove the dagger immediately.
Please lay her flat."
Galon nodded and gently lowered Catelyn onto the stone floor.
As the maester loosened the upper part of her clothing, Galon respectfully turned his head away.
With a muffled groan—
The bloodstained dagger was pulled free and tossed aside.
Colemon quickly applied herbs to stop the bleeding before wrapping the wound tightly in fresh bandages.
"My lord. She needs complete rest. Please have her carried to a bed."
Galon nodded.
Unwilling to entrust her to anyone else, he personally lifted his future goodmother into his arms and carried her to a guest chamber.
Inside the room, Colemon examined her once more.
Satisfied that the bleeding had finally stopped, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
"The wound missed any vital organs. Ordinarily, a few months of recovery would be enough."
He hesitated.
"But...
She spent several days imprisoned in the sky cells. I've been told she had almost nothing to eat or drink.
The recent weather has pushed her body beyond its limits.
Now she's suffered this stab wound.
Whether she survives... Will depend upon the will of the gods."
After another pause, he lowered his voice.
"My lord. Even if she lives... There may be lasting effects."
Galon remained silent.
Looking at Catelyn's pale, unconscious face, he finally asked, "When will she wake?"
Colemon thought for a moment. "If nothing unexpected happens... Tomorrow."
Galon nodded and accompanied the maester outside.
Once they stepped into the corridor, Colemon hesitated before speaking again.
"My lord... What do you intend to do with young Robert?"
Galon looked at him in surprise.
"Why would you ask that?
Robert Arryn is Lord Jon's only son. And his only heir. Of course he'll inherit the Vale."
Relief flooded Colemon's face.
"Truly? You won't kill him?"
"Kill him?"
Galon shook his head helplessly.
"Even if you don't trust me... Surely you trust Lord Royce. He was Lord Jon's most trusted friend.
A man of honor.
He'll raise Robert properly. He would never allow anyone to harm the boy."
Colemon stood speechless for a moment. The burden on his heart finally disappeared.
"Thank the Seven... Thank the Seven.
That bastard Petyr told me you were coming to seize Robert... He even claimed you meant to kill him."
Galon smiled and lightly patted the maester's shoulder.
"Littlefinger built his life on lies and manipulation. You should never trust his words.
Though...
Lord Royce will likely discipline Robert far more strictly than Lady Lysa ever did.
You should prepare yourself for that."
Colemon managed a weary smile. He understood better than anyone how thoroughly Lysa had spoiled her son.
Before he could answer, footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Moments later, Lord Royce arrived with several of the Vale's nobles.
"How is Lady Catelyn?"
He asked before he had even reached the doorway.
"Maester Colemon has saved her life for now." Galon paused. "The rest depends upon the Seven."
Then he met Royce's eyes. "How are things in the castle?"
Royce answered at once.
"All of Baelish's followers have been arrested.
Young Robert is still asleep. He doesn't yet know what happened to his mother."
Galon nodded quietly.
"Come, Lord Glover.
Lord Hunter and the others are waiting in the great hall. We still have an alliance to discuss."
A flicker of satisfaction crossed Galon's eyes.
"In that case... Let's not keep them waiting."
Together with Lord Royce, the other nobles, and Maester Colemon, he returned to the great hall.
The atmosphere there had completely changed.
Every one of Littlefinger's followers had been captured.
The Eyrie was secure. The tension that had filled the castle only hours earlier had vanished.
Very few mourned Lysa or Littlefinger.
"Lord Glover."
Ser Andar Royce looked at Galon with undisguised admiration.
"What you said earlier... It was fiercer than dragonfire.
I've seen men wounded by swords. But I've never seen someone argue another man into coughing up blood."
Before Galon could reply, Lord Hunter laughed.
"Neither have I.
If you'd gone on much longer... That ungrateful bastard might have died from your words alone."
Galon chuckled.
"When dealing with a schemer like him... It's no different from dealing with a venomous snake.
Either stay far away... Or strike once. And strike the vital spot."
Seeing the thoughtful expressions around him, he smoothly returned the conversation to more important matters.
"My lords.
The conspirators are dead. The Vale's crisis is over.
So... Shall we confirm our alliance?"
Lord Royce answered without hesitation.
"Of course."
His voice rang through the hall.
"I, Yohn Royce of Runestone, speaking as protector of House Arryn... Will immediately summon every bannerman of the Vale.
We shall stand beside you... And seek justice against the usurpers in King's Landing."
The other lords all nodded together.
"We agree."
The alliance was sealed.
For the next several hours, they discussed the details of mustering the Vale's banners.
By the time every major issue had been settled, everyone was exhausted.
Yawning, the assembled lords finally retired for the night.
The following morning—
Galon rose early to train.
Though the Eyrie remained bitterly cold, the weather had improved considerably.
The snowfall had ceased. Pale sunlight spread across the mountaintop fortress.
Just as he finished exercising, a servant hurried toward him.
"My lord!
Maester Colemon sent me.
Lady Catelyn has awakened. She wishes to see you."
Galon's expression immediately grew serious.
"I'll come at once."
Without even changing his clothes, he hurried toward Catelyn's chamber.
Moments later, he entered to find Maester Colemon supervising as a maid helped Catelyn drink a bowl of medicinal broth.
"My lady... How are you feeling?"
Galon approached the bedside.
Her face remained ghostly pale. She looked terribly weak.
Catelyn managed a faint nod. Turning her head toward the others, she spoke in little more than a whisper.
"Please... Leave us.
I need...
To speak with Galon."
Colemon understood immediately.
With a nod, he led everyone else from the room.
Once the door had closed, Catelyn struggled to sit upright. Galon quickly adjusted the pillows behind her.
"Galon..."
Leaning weakly against them, she gazed at him.
Complex emotions filled her faded blue eyes.
Slowly, she reached out and gently clasped his warm hand.
"I'm sorry...
I judged you wrongly... Back at Winterfell.
You're... A good man.
Sansa...
Was fortunate... To find you."
Every sentence came with visible effort.
Remembering all the prejudice she had once held against him, she felt only guilt...
And gratitude.
"It's in the past now, my lady."
Galon's voice was gentle.
"What matters now is your recovery. Sansa is still waiting for you at Winterfell."
At the mention of Sansa, a faint light returned to Catelyn's eyes.
"Sansa..."
She whispered softly.
For a long moment, she seemed lost in old memories. Then, suddenly, she tightened her grip on Galon's hand.
"Galon...
You must... Promise me something.
If... If this war reaches a stalemate... You must return to Winterfell...
And marry Sansa as soon as you can.
You...
You must have children.
You must ensure... That Winterfell... Never falls into the hands of outsiders."
Galon nodded solemnly.
"I understand, my lady."
A peaceful smile spread across Catelyn's face.
After everything she had endured...
The woman who had spent her life fighting for House Stark had finally entrusted its future to the man she had once despised.
Slowly, she released his hand.
Then closed her eyes once more.
Galon rose and quietly looked down at her sleeping form. His own expression remained calm.
'Winterfell will never fall into another's hands.'
'Because... It belongs to me.'
He turned and walked toward the door.
Within his heart, the fire of ambition burned brighter than ever.
'Now all that remains... Is for the armies of the Vale to assemble.'
'And then...'
'It will be time for the final battle against the Lannisters.'
__________
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