"Come to the docks of Gulltown and join us in welcoming back our good Lord Petyr."
That proclamation was made throughout the city by Jellico Grafton, one of Gulltown's leading nobles. The invitation was directed especially toward wealthy merchants, customs officers, harbor officials, granary owners, and other influential figures. One detail stood out: no family members or personal guards were to accompany them.
Many found that strange.
Still, few questioned it openly.
Gulltown's great houses had long maintained complicated relationships. House Grafton, local branches of House Arryn, and Petyr Baelish had often cooperated. Others, such as House Shett, leaned closer to House Royce.
Everyone knew Gulltown was the city where Petyr Baelish—Littlefinger—had first risen to power.
Years ago, he had been appointed tax collector here through the influence of Lysa Arryn, then wife of Jon Arryn. After dramatically increasing local revenues, Petyr had climbed one position after another until becoming master of coin under Robert Baratheon.
To many citizens, he was clever, charming, and generous enough.
So why this grand display?
Then people began to understand.
The war had not yet reached the Vale. The region remained wealthy, protected by the Mountains of the Moon. If Petyr was returning now, it was not a quiet visit—it was a triumphant homecoming.
Perhaps he meant to take greater power.
Perhaps he meant to stand beside Lady Lysa and claim even more influence in the Vale.
If Littlefinger rose higher, those tied to him might rise as well.
So merchants cheered louder. Officials smiled wider. Opportunists gathered eagerly.
Morning at the Harbor
The next morning dawned bright and cold.
Sunlight spilled across the white stone streets and marble towers of Gulltown, making the harbor city gleam.
Gulltown stood on the shores of Crackclaw Bay, southeast of the Eyrie and south of Runestone. Its harbor was naturally sheltered, making it one of the most valuable ports in the Vale.
Though smaller than the greatest cities of Westeros, Gulltown had a charm of its own—clean streets, orderly markets, and prosperous docks.
Its people were fishermen, sailors, traders, craftsmen, horse breeders, and merchants. Beyond the walls lay fertile plains and wealthy estates. That prosperity had made local noble houses powerful.
Now the docks were lined with armed men.
Soldiers of House Grafton stood in black armor.
Knights and cavalry of the Vale waited nearby, wearing polished silver plate. Long ashwood lances rested in their hands, steel tips gleaming in the sun.
Market stalls selling oysters, cloth, incense, and imported goods buzzed with nervous excitement.
"Has the ship arrived?"
"Can you see it?"
"It should be here any moment!"
Crowds pressed together near the piers.
Yet even in celebration, rank mattered.
At the front stood the noble houses.
Behind them came landed knights.
Then lesser nobles.
Only after them came merchants, officials, tax men, and owners of warehouses and brothels.
Those Who Waited
At the head of the welcoming party stood Jellico Grafton.
He was broad-shouldered, thick-armed, and loud-voiced, with dirty blond hair and the easy smile of a man used to command.
Beside him stood Essenba Arryn, nicknamed the Golden Eagle.
Tall and proud, he wore a blue cloak marked with a golden eagle flying above a white moon.
Though his branch of House Arryn was not among the most prestigious, it had grown rich through careful marriages and trade.
Nearby stood Ser Uther Shett.
Many were surprised to see him there. His house had often opposed Littlefinger.
But politics required appearances.
Farther back, soldiers quietly formed a loose semicircle around the crowd.
Most people noticed too late.
The Ship Arrives
The sea was calm.
Only the steady beat of drums and the dip of oars disturbed the morning silence.
A merchant vessel approached slowly, growing larger as it neared the docks.
Its ropes creaked. Its sails hung limp.
"The ship is here!"
Many straightened their clothes and prepared smiles.
"Welcome home, Lord Petyr!"
Then the first figure stepped onto the dock.
It was not Littlefinger.
It was Lothor Brune.
Grey-haired, square-jawed, thickly built, and grim-faced, he wore a striking badge upon his chest.
Behind him came a young girl.
She had auburn hair, delicate features, and clear blue eyes unmistakably descended from House Tully.
She was Sansa Stark.
The dock fell silent.
"What is happening?"
"Where is Lord Petyr?"
"Why are they here?"
Then Petyr Baelish himself appeared.
But not as anyone expected.
Two mercenary guards dragged him forward and threw him onto the dock.
His fine plum cloak was torn away. His mockingbird sigil hung crookedly.
His face was swollen and bloodied.
Dust stained his clothes.
His legs trembled too badly to stand.
A cloth had been stuffed into his mouth to silence him.
Gasps spread through the crowd.
The Trap Closes
At Jellico's signal, servants boarded the ship and paid the sailors gold for their service. The crew, unconcerned with politics, would soon depart for Braavos.
Then Jellico turned to the assembled crowd.
"My lords and honored guests," he said pleasantly, "I neglected to mention one detail."
"We are not here to welcome Lord Petyr."
"We are here to receive Petyr Baelish, accused of treason."
Shock rippled through the docks.
A pale merchant shouted, "By whose authority?"
A path opened through the soldiers.
Mounted knights rode forward beneath banners quartered with golden dragons and stags.
At their center rode a towering young man in black scale armor.
He was broad, handsome, and carried himself with effortless command.
His blue eyes were bright with confidence.
This was Gendry Baratheon.
At his side rode Ser Barristan Selmy in white armor, and Anguy with bow across his back.
Even Sansa stared in surprise.
He looked every inch a king.
Crimes Revealed
Essenba Arryn stepped forward and shouted so all could hear:
"Petyr Baelish stands accused of multiple crimes, including involvement in the murder of Lord Jon Arryn and sowing chaos across the Seven Kingdoms!"
The words struck like thunder.
Immediately, the Vale lords who had been warned beforehand turned against the cluster of merchants and officials gathered behind them.
These were Littlefinger's true allies—tax men, customs officers, harbor masters, brothel keepers, and wealthy traders enriched through his schemes.
Many began shaking.
Some tried to slip away.
But House Grafton, House Arryn, and House Shett soldiers had already sealed the exits.
Gendry rode forward slowly.
"Some of you were his friends," he said coldly.
"Some of you were his servants."
"Now you will answer for his crimes and for the theft of the realm's wealth."
His voice carried across the harbor like iron.
At once, many fell to their knees.
"We knew nothing!"
"We only handled trade!"
"Mercy, my lord!"
Others cursed loudly.
One customs officer shouted at Jellico.
"You betrayed us!"
Jellico shoved him back.
"My father died with honor," he said. "You will not."
Blood on White Stone
Then the arrests began.
Spears lowered.
Shields advanced.
Men were clubbed down with scabbards and dragged screaming across the marble quay.
Brothel owners wailed for Lysa Arryn.
Tax officials begged for mercy.
Merchants cried that they were innocent.
Yet a few resisted.
Several desperate loyalists seized knives and rushed forward through the chaos.
One especially fat brothel keeper slipped through a gap in the line with surprising speed, dagger raised, charging toward Jellico Grafton.
Gendry saw him instantly.
"Too slow."
Without breaking stride, he seized a lance from a nearby soldier.
With terrifying strength, he hurled it from horseback.
The ten-foot spear flew like lightning.
It punched through the attacker's chest, tore through bone and flesh, and drove him backward into the white stone pavement.
The body hung pinned upright for a heartbeat before collapsing in blood.
Silence followed.
Then the harbor erupted.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Gendry!"
"Long live the Storm!"
The remaining resistors lost all courage and dropped to their knees.
Barristan looked at them with disgust.
"Traitors."
Then the soldiers finished the work.
Longspears thrust.
Swords rose and fell.
Crossbows fired.
Those who had chosen violence were cut down where they stood.
Blood ran across the white docks in thin streams.
The marble of Gulltown turned red.
Littlefinger Falls
Petyr Baelish watched everything from the ground.
The merchants he had enriched.
The spies he had cultivated.
The officials he had bribed.
The city where he first rose.
All of it collapsed in a single morning.
Everything he had built was no fortress.
Only a tower of smoke.
He had believed himself untouchable because he moved in shadows.
But now true power had stepped into the light.
His body shook violently.
Yet no tears came.
Only terror remained.
And all around him, Gulltown bled.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)