Chapter 107: I Want to See Someone Fly
"Why do you claim that Petyr forced himself on you?"
One of the younger members of the Lords Declarant, a man named Horton, interrupted before Sansa could continue.
"You knew Lady Lysa had just married him. Couldn't you have avoided him?"
Sansa was about to go on when she froze. Tears welled up in her eyes.
"I… I didn't dare…" she said, her voice trembling.
"Why didn't you dare?" Horton pressed, glancing at the frowning Petyr.
"Are you saying that even if you were unwilling, Petyr would still have forced you?"
"I… I knew that only by enduring it could I ever return to the North—to Winterfell," Sansa replied, her tears falling freely now.
"Otherwise, I would have died long ago in King's Landing. I would never have lived to reach the Eyrie."
Her words stirred the room.
The members of the alliance recalled Sansa's account of her time in King's Landing—her father executed, abandoned by everyone, surrounded by enemies. How could a young girl survive under the constant watch of the Lannisters without clinging to the only lifeline she had?
"Sansa, I apologize," Horton said after a pause, understanding dawning on his face.
"I shouldn't have asked in that way. I only wanted the inquiry to be fair."
"My lord… your question was fair," Sansa said softly, forcing herself to continue.
"I should have stepped away. If I had, my aunt would never have seen us… and none of this would have happened…"
Her voice trailed off, heavy with regret, as the weight of that single moment settled over the chamber.
Sansa wiped the tears from her face and continued, her voice trembling.
"I never imagined that scene would be seen by my aunt, Lady Lysa, who was standing on the second floor. She rushed down, grabbed me by the hair, and dragged me toward the Moon Door. She called me a filthy little whore and demanded to know why I was kissing Lord Petyr. I was so frightened that my mind went blank—I could only cling to the edge of the Moon Door with all my strength, or she would have pushed me down."
"At that moment, Lord Petyr pulled my aunt away and tried to calm her. But Lady Lysa was still beside herself with rage."
"Then… I don't know what Lord Petyr said to her. She suddenly stopped struggling, and then… then I saw Lord Petyr push my aunt through the Moon Door. It's all my fault…"
"That's a lie!" Petyr could no longer contain himself. He sprang to his feet and shouted,
"Lysa slipped and fell on her own—I never pushed her! Sansa, I saved you from King's Landing. Why would you frame me like this?"
"I'm sorry, Lord Petyr!" Sansa sobbed, bowing her head again and again.
"My aunt may have been jealous, but she didn't deserve to die. I can't… I can't lie anymore…"
"Petyr," Yohn snapped coldly, "yesterday you claimed Lady Lysa committed suicide by jumping through the Moon Door. Now you say she fell by accident. Tell me—when has a single word out of your mouth ever been the truth?"
Yohn had long despised Petyr, and seeing him accuse Sansa only deepened his disgust.
"Lord Yohn, listen to me!" Petyr cried desperately.
"This must be because Arya said something yesterday—Sansa wouldn't have accused me otherwise. Yesterday she didn't say any of this!"
Hearing Petyr drag her sister into it, Sansa lifted her tear-filled eyes and spoke again:
"My poor sister Arya barely escaped King's Landing, only to be captured by the Gold Cloaks and forced into labor. She cut her hair just to avoid being recognized. After finally escaping, she came here seeking refuge with our aunt… and instead found this tragedy. Arya knew nothing—how could she have said anything to influence me?"
"Guards!" Yohn barked.
"Take Petyr away and throw him into the sky cells. Without our permission, no one is to release him!"
"You can't do this!" Petyr shouted in panic.
"I'm Lady Lysa's husband! I was the former Master of Coin of King's Landing! Our marriage was approved by the capital—you have no right!"
Petyr knew exactly what being accused of murdering the former Lady of the Eyrie meant. Best case, he would rot in the sky cells. Worse… he would be thrown through the Moon Door.
He knew what the sky cells were—open stone cells carved into the cliffside, with no wall facing the abyss. A single careless movement in one's sleep could mean a fall of hundreds of feet. Stay long enough, and even if you weren't executed, the cold alone could kill you.
Yohn hesitated for only a moment, then ignored Petyr's cries and allowed the guards to drag him away.
Outside the chamber, Arya watched as Petyr struggled helplessly in the guards' grip. She knew at once that Sansa had not failed her. When Sansa emerged in tears, Arya ran to her and wrapped her in a fierce embrace, the two sisters sobbing together.
From a distance, Sandor Clegane watched in silence. He couldn't help but sigh—Petyr Baelish, once a man who pulled strings across King's Landing, had been brought low by two Stark girls working together.
Even the three great lords of the Vale had been led by the nose.
After Petyr was imprisoned, the Lords Declarant held an emergency discussion on his fate. A man who dared murder the former Lady of the Eyrie deserved to be thrown through the Moon Door—but Petyr was no ordinary criminal. Executing him without King's Landing's consent could bring consequences.
Unable to reach a decision, they chose to keep him confined in the sky cells and report the matter to the capital.
The next day passed without a verdict. By the third day, Sansa and Arya were growing anxious.
That afternoon, young Lord Robert Arryn burst into Yohn's chamber and demanded that Petyr—the man who killed his mother—be thrown through the Moon Door. He wanted to watch someone fly.
Yohn had intended to inform Robert after receiving word from King's Landing, but the boy had learned the truth sooner than expected.
Robert was a constant headache—frail, sickly, temperamental. He had inherited none of his father's wisdom, only his mother's volatility.
"My lord," Yohn said patiently, "how Petyr is to be dealt with depends on King's Landing's decision."
"I am the Lord of the Vale!" Robert shrieked.
"My mother was murdered—are you saying I can't avenge her without the capital's permission?"
"If we kill him without approval, King's Landing may hold us accountable."
"I don't care!" Robert screamed.
"I want to see someone fly! Where is Littlefinger? Take me to him!"
Before Yohn could stop him, Robert grabbed his arm and dragged him along.
Unable to free himself, Yohn had no choice but to lead Robert to the sky cells, hoping that seeing Petyr would stir some lingering affection and spare his life—for now.
Petyr had already spent two days there, battered by icy winds, sleeping on bare stone. The cold was worse than the North itself. If he wasn't released soon, he was certain he would freeze to death.
Just as he was shivering uncontrollably, the door to the sky cell creaked open.
Two guards stood outside.
Behind them—Yohn Royce, and young Lord Robert Arryn.