"Strength of lineage!" muttered the aged Duke of the Eyrie, Lord Jon Arryn, pacing back and forth in his study within the Red Keep. As the Hand of the King, he wielded significant influence, but the weight of recent discoveries pressed heavily on his shoulders.
On the wall hung a sword forged for him by his wife, Lysa. In King's Landing, whenever he sat in for King Robert on the Iron Throne, this sword was by his side. Its blade was etched with silver lines depicting the high valleys and skies of the Vale, the hilt shaped like a hawk's head, and the crossguard resembling wings.
"As high as honor!" Duke Jon thought bitterly, gazing at the hawk sword. He was meant to soar like a hawk in the mountains, free and unencumbered, not trapped in the webs of intrigue in King's Landing.
On his desk lay a massive tome, borrowed from the equally aged Grand Maester Pycelle: The Lineages and Histories of the Principal Noble Houses of the Seven Kingdoms (With Numerous Descriptions of Lords, Ladies, and Their Offspring). The book was dry and tedious, but it held crucial information.
"I may have uncovered the truth!" Duke Jon mused. Every one of the king's bastards had hair as black as night, whether it was Edric, Mya, the one born to a whore in King's Landing, or the one across the Narrow Sea. And then there was the queen—Queen Cersei grew prouder each year, her temperament as cruel as her father's. Her boldness in adultery was striking.
Killing the bastards, Jon had once thought, was just her nature. Now, it seemed more like an attempt to cover up evidence.
History bore this out. No matter how far back Jon traced in the brittle, yellowed pages, gold always succumbed to black.
Grand Maester Malleon had recorded the last union between a stag and a lion over ninety years ago—when Tia Lannister married Gawen Baratheon, the third son of House Baratheon. Their only child was a nameless boy who died young, described in Malleon's book as "large, hearty, and with black hair."
Thirty years before that, a Lannister man had married a Baratheon girl. She bore him three daughters and a son, all with black hair.
"Poor Robert!" Jon accepted Stannis's suspicions. Cersei Lannister's children were not of Baratheon blood but the product of her adultery with the Kingslayer.
"Clever Lannister, stealing sunlight from the sun to dye his hair gold. The Lannisters truly are a family of tricksters and thieves."
"I need to set the kingdom right and resolve this issue! But I can't just strike out directly. Killing children would tarnish my honor and offend the Lannisters!" Jon needed a clever plan to send the Kingslayer to the Wall, deal with the children properly, and preserve the new dynasty's strength.
In the fledgling Baratheon dynasty, Jon had been the architect of the top-level design. "Damn Lannister woman and the Kingslayer!" The Baratheon dynasty had no dragons and was already fragile, relying on men like Jon to hold things together.
Whether it was allying with the Lannisters through marriage, uniting with the Martells, or achieving a facade of unity, it was all part of his strategy.
But what Jon hadn't anticipated was that his brilliant move of allying with the Lannisters had become the root of chaos! Initially, it was to leverage the Westerlands' power to solidify the new dynasty.
As Jon was deep in thought, his wife, Lysa Tully, entered the study. Lysa had the Tully blue eyes, small, stern lips, and a head of reddish-brown hair that was soft and cascaded down to her waist.
Time had not been kind. In her youth, Lysa was pretty, slender, and busty, fragile and shy. After marrying Jon Arryn and going through multiple miscarriages before finally giving birth to Robert, she had started to gain weight. Though she was two years younger than her sister Catelyn, Lysa looked a decade older; her body was bloated and sagging, her pale cheeks powdered.
"Did you need me for something, my lord?" Lysa asked upon entering.
"Not really. Our dear Robin is of an age now. At his age, a lord's sons become squires, a ward, or cupbearers. I thought I'd send him to Dragonstone as Lord Stannis's ward!" Duke Jon looked at his wife, trying to soften his expression.
Duke Jon was older than Lady Lysa's father, Hoster Tully. Even without love, their marriage was one of indulgence. Lysa's influence, through her pillow talk and Petyr Baelish's support, was significant.
"You want to take our dear Robin away from me? You can't! There are enemies everywhere!" Lysa screamed hysterically. She had miscarried five times, twice at the Eyrie and thrice in King's Landing, with two stillbirths, before finally giving birth to Robert Arryn. After the last stillbirth, she had become paranoid, convinced that enemies lurked everywhere.
"My dear, you must calm down! Robin is six years old. He's the heir of the Eyrie, not a baby still nursing at your breast! Everything I do is for the Vale and him!" Duke Jon said, looking at his wife.
"I knew it! You never loved me. You married me for my father's army! I remember every word my father said. He told me I should thank the gods that a great lord would marry a woman who had lost her virtue! I hate him, and I hate you!"
"Those things! Why bring them up again?" Duke Jon's aged face was filled with helplessness. Due to Lysa's premarital indiscretions and their significant age difference, their marriage lacked love.
"Alright, my lady! I was just asking for your opinion!" Duke Jon coaxed softly, then escorted the still furious and cursing Lady Lysa out of the room.
The spacious room now fell silent, leaving only the aged yet sharp Duke Jon.
At this moment, Duke Jon missed his two deceased wives. How wonderful it would be if they were still alive, along with those once lively and healthy heirs he had cherished. Some died in battle, others at the hands of the Mad King.
"For that cold, spiky throne! I need to hold my ground and ally with Stannis for now!" Duke Jon had never been particularly friendly with Stannis, but sending Robert Arryn to Stannis was a well-considered move. Among the great lords of the realm, few were truly reliable.
Once the scandal broke, Lord Tywin would turn against King's Landing. As for Winterfell, it was too cold, and Robin's health was too fragile. Moreover, Lysa had always harbored resentment towards her sister. As for Renly, Duke Jon couldn't trust that young man either!
"The kingdom should return to legitimacy! Since the king and queen's marriage is invalid and the king has no legitimate heir, by right, the throne should go to Stannis!" Duke Jon thought. "Stannis is stern and unyielding, not well-liked. But after his brother's marriage was annulled, he became the first legitimate heir. He would step aside only if Robert had a new heir!"
In a way, Jon and Stannis agreed, each convinced of their reasoning.
"What would the schemers do once Robert's line of succession is vacant?" Duke Jon worried again.
"The bastard across the Narrow Sea and the dragon princess, the witty little Renly, and Lord Tywin lurking in Casterly Rock." But these were secondary concerns; the key was to first deal with the inheritance scandal and the issue of the queen's annulment.
"I must hold on!" Duke Jon thought. "Only by staying healthy can I navigate this crisis! Not just for Robert, but for my son!"
"Lysa will understand my intentions once I explain them to her clearly!" Duke Jon comforted himself.