Chapter Twenty-One: To Court Chaos
Forward: I'd like to thank Rainsfere and Max000, my current beta readers, for their help on editing on this chapter!
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"Three days…and not a single clue."
Geralt stared out over the city from his balcony, hand tapping on top the stone barrier. The city still rang with the sound of bells and he swore he could still hear wailing as the people mourned. They all saw Lord Baratheon as the war hero who ended a tyrannical dynasty and brought peace to all the Kingdoms.
"I should have drink first for safety reasons. I let my guard down and didn't suspect on such an obvious approach."
"You couldn't have known. No one could have suspected Robert's personal wine was tampered with." Eddard muttered while standing beside him. "If anything, it is a miracle you survived. That was a specialized breed of Wolfsbane that kills in minutes…yet you seemingly recovered in just a day."
"If it wasn't for my mutations, I'd be having my own funeral alongside the King." He'd pause in thought for a moment. "It makes me wonder. Whoever poisoned the bottle may have been trying to target you as well. Robert always was able to coerce you to take a drink or two. Kill two birds with one stone.
The thought of being a fellow victim had Ned pale slightly, gaze shifting away from the Witcher, no doubt thinking of the sorrow his daughters would have felt. "Aye…that would be a troubling end."
Both were silent, lost in their thoughts over the last few days. Ever since the King's death, Geralt had been mostly confined to his room for 'safety' reasons, at the least from what Barristan had claimed. The Witcher knew better through as he was under close watch, practically under house arrest. There were always two guards watching his room and whenever he left, they'd follow him about. It made sense considering he had been alone with the King with only the fact that he too had been poison given him some proof of innocence.
"Does anyone else know of the decree?"
"No. I didn't get a chance to gather the Council and reveal it. Everyone is too caught up with what is going on."
"Then let's hope it gives you the authority needed to keep everything in order. Though I wonder…what did you write at the end of it."
"What?" A hint of surprise showed on Ned's face before he remembered just how attentive Geralt was. "I wrote down 'rightful heir' instead of Joffrey. It is deceitful I know…but it was the only choice to follow without telling Robert the truth."
"Should have just told him."
"Should have…maybe that would have saved him that day…" Ned muttered in agreement. "Beyond that I've sent out ravens yesterday to Winterfell, Dragonstone and other major holdings. I've proclaimed Stannis Baratheon to be the rightful heir and Joffrey's being false."
"All of the details."
"All of it."
Geralt was silent, now understanding what all those letters were about now. "So, a failsafe then. Inform the other lords of the Kingdoms of the corruption happening in the capital. Guess it will at least draw questions to Joffrey's legitimacy and damage the Lannister's image."
"I take no pride in it. Like I've said, underhanded moves like this are against everything I stand for."
"Desperate times desperate measures." The Witcher muttered in agreement. "What else is there?"
"A mix of good and bad news. Which should I tell first?"
"The bad, rather get that over with."
Ned nodded. "Lord Renly has fled the capital with Ser Loras alongside him along with all those loyal to them. After what happened to his brother, he is too fearful to remain at the Red Keep. Any support he can offer is beyond our reach."
"Damn it…that is bad. So, what is the good news?"
"New allies have arrived. Beric Dondarrion, Lord of Blackhaven, a vassal house deeply loyal to the Baratheons. He answered my call for support and came to the Red Keep just yesterday with a sizable group of loyal bannermen. Hopefully he'll be able to give us an edge of fighting does break out."
"Do the Lannister's suspect?"
"Maybe. Lord Tywin no doubt questions it, but to everyone else it seems Lord Beric and his men are simply here paying their respects to their liege."
"Still going to be difficult if a conflict breaks out. Between his forces and your own we still have the Watch, Tywin's soldiers and the King's Guard to possibly deal with. We need to win support of the Watch or most of the King's Guard to tip the odds in our favor."
"Which I can give you."
The sudden voice had both Geralt and Eddard quick turn about to see Lord Baelish sitting at the nearby table, the noble giving his iconic sly grin to the two. The man seemed to have slipped into the room uninvited, something that annoyed the Witcher.
"Thought you wanted to play neutral on the matter." Geralt remarked back coldly. He still remembered his confrontation with Littlefinger after the tourney, how he had forced the truth out about the man's lie about Tyrion.
"The King's murder has changed my view on the matter. Some feel that Joffrey should take the throne because he's the 'true' heir, while others feel the more experienced hand of Lord Stark is needed for now." He'd glance between the two, keeping his casual friendly demeanor. "Chaos and strife in the court is bad for business in general. You must understand my interests are for the best of all of Westeros."
Ned remained silent, staring tensely at Lord Baelish who acted formal despite the hostility shown.
Geralt leaned in to speak quietly with Ned. "We can't trust him. Let me talk to Ser Barristan…"
"The Lord Commander would be helpful, but you forget that the rest of the King's Guard may not follow his lead. Jaime will put his family before all else, especially in his sister's defense." Eddard glanced again at Baelish, open distrust showing towards the Master of Coin. "If anything, I distrust Baelish more than you. If we refuse his aid, he can easily side with the Lannisters just to cover his own back." He'd pause tensely, seeming hesitant still.
"You don't have to accept this. I wouldn't."
"Aye…yet I'm sadly not you." Ned gave a small warily smile. "This is my choice and whatever the outcome…I'll face it." He'd move away from Geralt's side and approach Baelish, one hand out to be shaken. "Fine Lord Baelish, I accept your aid."
"Wise of you Lord Stark." Yet when they grasped hands, Ned yanked Littlefinger closer to speak harshly to him.
"But if you betray us…you best do it well. Remember that."
Baelish paled slightly at the threat, haven't only seen Ned this fierce during the moment he had been pinned to the wall outside his own brothel. Glancing at Geralt, he saw the same sharp look in the Witcher's eyes, adding more to Eddard's warning. "Of course…Ned." He muttered back, using nickname snidely. Once his hand was let go, he'd flex his grip before continuing to speak. "I will speak with the Watch captains and Commander Janos Slynt. We'll be prepared within the day if need be."
"Good. Let us just hope we won't have to rely on their aid. You're dismissed Lord Baelish."
Littlefinger gave a low nod before moving to leave the room, seeming composed despite the threats just given to him.
Once the door closed shut, Ned sighed before looking to Geralt. "Hopefully that will keep him in line."
"Hopefully." Geralt muttered back. "So, what about other precautions? We should have your daughters sent away to someplace safe such as back towards the North or the Vale if need be."
"I agree. It will be difficult explaining it to them and Sansa will no doubt argue." Eddard paced closer to the door. "If all goes well, they should leave by tomorrow and be beyond anyone's grasp."
"Good…then all we do is wait then."
"Yes. Just try to relax Geralt, we'll pull through this."
The Witcher only nodded back in response before Eddard left the room, leaving Geralt by himself. For a moment he'd listen to the bells ringing throughout the city, deep in thought over what to do. Inaction always left him edgy, even more when the obvious threat just lurked close by. At that point he remembered what was going on in the far north at the Wall, the possible horrors Jon and the Night's Watch faced.
"Haven't written to him since I left." He muttered, glancing to the nearby table with parchment and quill set aside. Moving over to it, he quicken began to write.
To Jon Snow of the Night's Watch, son of Lord Eddard Stark
I know I've been silent these last few months, yet events at the capital have been tense. King Robert Baratheon is dead, murdered by conspirators vying for control. Your father's actions may very well brand him as a traitor to many, but his loyalty is to the late King and to the Kingdoms.
No matter what you hear, know that he has made difficult choices and has only done what he thought was best for all. If all goes well I plan to head North and return to the Wall. I've had my fill of Southern politics. For now, be vigilant and safe.
From, Geralt.
Not a moment after he finished writing, he'd hear the flutter of wings and a cawing sound from the balcony. Glancing over, he'd see Naser hobble into the room before fluttering up onto the back of a nearby chair. "Hello hello." It chattered.
"Odd…how did you…never mind." There was something odd about that bird, though considering his experiences this wasn't the most outlandish case. "I n eed you to take this to Castle Black and to Jon Snow. Understand?"
"Of course." Naser bobbed his head, seeming confident as Geralt rolled the letter scroll up before sliding it into a small tube to attach to the raven's leg. Once tied on, Naser hopped off the chair and flew out of the room, flying out over King's Landing and into the northern horizon.
Geralt sighed as he'd lean back in his seat, staring out at the city until he lost sight of Naser. "Waiting." Looking to the desk, he'd pick up the last book his was reading, trying to distract his mind for the rest of the day.
…
"Geralt…Geralt…GERALT!"
There was a sudden banging on the door, making the Witcher snap his eyes open before springing to action. He tumbled out of bed, rolling with his movement to land on his feet while grabbing his steel sword set just in reach. However, as the door suddenly unlocked he'd relax as he saw it was Thoros and some unknown man dressed in fine leather, chainmail and a deep green cloak fitting of a lord. Both seemed a bit taken back by Geralt's battle ready pose, yet quickly calmed down despite the fearsome surprise.
"What's going on?" Geralt questioned as he lowered his sword to his side.
"A meeting has been called for in the throne room by Queen 'Regent' Cersei and 'King' Joffrey…at least that's what the messenger has claimed." Thoros quickly explained.
The other man stepped into the room, giving a small bow to Geralt. "I feel it would be best to introduce myself. Lord Beric, titles can wait. Right now, the men are being organized and Lord Stark expects you at his side with confronting the queen."
The news was sudden, yet the Witcher understood the situation. "Give me a few minutes. Beric, go meet with your men. Thoros, wait outside until I'm ready."
The Red Priest grinned, pleased with the direct commands given. "Heh of course Witcher. Let us see how fate plays out today!"
Both men left, giving Geralt time to change into fresh clothes and into his armor. Strapping his swords onto his back, Dragonfang at the hip and a selection of basic potions and bombs. The bombs were mainly a selection nonlethal ones to avoid any unneeded deaths. Making sure the chest was tightly locked and the key in hand, he'd leave the room and rejoin Thoros.
Both hurried through the Red Keep, heading down to the lower floor and to the main yard just outside the main hall. The gathered men were a mix of Ned's Northern guards and Beric's troops, a sizable force combined. Eddard was busy speaking with Beric, dressed in a quilted vest and leathers along with having a longsword at his side. Seeing the Witcher and the Red Priest, he'd finish speaking with the other Lord before turning his attention to them.
"Seems it has come to this. Cersei has played her hand and now expects us to do the same." He muttered. "She has most of the court already gather, though Lord Tywin is absent."
"Odd…has he left the capital?" Geralt questioned.
"It seems Tywin has been tracing back on our your own investigation throughout the city personally. Maybe he thinks we had a hand in Robert's death or is trying to figure out what we've discovered."
"Explains the timing of this gathering. Cersei's father could easily complicate matters if he was present." Geralt remarked on.
"Indeed. I feel Tywin would be against Joffrey being crowned so quickly after Robert's death, considering the fact the boy lacks the skills and mentality to lead. That is not including the truth about his parentage." Ned shook his head. "For now, we work with the authority vested in me as the Hand. If Cersei resists, then we will have to use force."
"Then let's hope she's not that mad with ambition." The Witcher thought for a moment, quickly realizing something. "Is Arya and Sansa safe?"
Ned nodded. "Syrio is with Arya while Sansa has Jory and two of our guard watching her at my tower. They should be safe for what is to come."
Geralt relaxed, though he wished the two girls were halfway across Westeros instead of here. "Then let's do this. Be ready for anything…"
Eddard nodded slightly in agreement before gesturing to ten of the gathered men. "The rest of our men will wait outside in case of trouble. The Gold Cloaks are already within the hall along with Lord Baelish, so hopefully their numbers will be enough if a fight breaks out."
Mutterings of understanding followed before Eddard took the lead marching into the main hall with Geralt following alongside, while Beric and Thoros following close behind. There were a few lesser nobles who were milling about in the hall, giving surprised looks seeing the well-armed trope approaching the throne room. The men of the Watch hardly reacted to their arrival, showing an unflinching professionalism the entire time. Within the throne room itself, nearly everyone Geralt knew who lived within the Red Keep was gathered within the grand chamber. More of the Watch lined the sides of the hall, spears in hand and arming swords at the hip.
Littlefinger stood by the entry way, seeming to have been waiting for their arrival. He'd step up to whisper something to Lord Stark, Eddard not saying anything back. Baelish though had that confident smirk hinting his lips, though why Geralt wasn't certain.
The Witcher was quick to notice other key members of the Court such as Varys who stood among the crowd, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robes and looking as calm as ever. His observant gaze did focus on the group, a serious hint showed in his bright eyes as he no doubt knew what was about to happen. Pycelle stood close by the spymaster, a black notebook and pen in hand as he was quickly writing something down, no doubt a recording of what he was witnessing.
Barristan, Jaime along with five of the other King's Guard stood lined up before the looming Iron Throne. All of them were fully dressed in their golden armor along with fine metal shields which they had strapped to their backs. Geralt couldn't deny they were quite imposing at this moment; all the men's faces having focused looks under their helmets.
Behind them beside the Iron Throne was Sandor, fully dressed and looking the cleanest Geralt had ever seen. While the King's Guard were regal, he looked fierce with his hound shaped helm closed over his head. Despite his face being covered, the Witcher could sense the man's gaze set on him directly.
On the other side of the throne sat Cersei herself, dressed in her finest clothes for this occasion. It was the most queenly she had ever looked with her crown set onto of her stylized hair, giving her a regal if snobby look, at least from the Witcher's point of view. A small frown hinted her face seeing the armed force Eddard had brought, but she seemed calm none of the less.
Next to her stood Lancel, dressed in a new set of squire clothes with the more fitting colors of the Lannister house. When he saw Geralt he was wide eyed and face paled, making the Witcher wonder if his Axii Sign had been faulty somehow. The young man leaned in to whisper something to Cersei, yet the woman's expression remained unchanged even after he finished speaking.
Lastly there was her son who sat on the high seat of the bladed throne, lodging back to be comfortable on the rough metal seat. He too was changed into the finest set of clothes Geralt had seen the prince in, regal leather designed in a scaled pattern along with brown fine cloth under it. His face had a serious look to it, almost commanding as he'd stare at Eddard directly. Despite the armed men followed the Stark, he seemed unconcerned of them.
Soon Eddard's group stopped in the middle of the room, keeping a fair distance from the line of King's Guard between them and Joffrey. Ned looked up at the prince, having a determined look in his eyes as he seemed to wait for the boy to speak first.
"I command the Council to make all necessary arrangements for my coronation. I wish to be crowned within the fortnight. Today I will accept oaths of fealty from my loyal Councilors." The boy's gaze drifted across the hall, passing over each of the members of the Small Council before settling back on Ned. "My father's murder is a great tragedy, but we mustn't let fear and hesitation deny Seven Kingdoms its rightful ruler."
For a long moment, no one spoke within the hall, the silence almost deafening if it weren't for the muffled din of bells ringing in the city. Geralt wondered how much of the boy's speech was of his own making or prepared by his dear mother's advice. In the end though, Eddard at last spoke.
"Bold words your grace…however being too hasty is unwise." He calmly answered back before shifting one hand to his belt, drawing the sealed scroll of Robert's last decree. "You may claim the right to rule, yet that is not for you to decide."
Both Joffrey and Cersei gave confused looks, anger hinting the boy's eyes. "What do you mean Lord Stark?" He questioned sharply.
Ned looked forward at Barristan, the old knight staring back. "Ser Barristan. I believe no man here could question your honor." He'd hold out the scroll to the man, who'd slowly step forward and take it.
He'd examine the parchment closely, focusing on the wax seal. "King Robert's seal. Unbroken." Slowly, he'd pace closer to the Iron Throne before opening the scroll and began to read it out loud before reaching the decree's conclusion. "Lord Eddard Stark is to be hereby named Protector of the Realm. To rule as Regent, until the rightful heir is decided."
A low murmuring filled the hall when it came to the last part of the decree or in this case final will. Now Geralt understood what Eddard had done, the act questionable yet understood. The lack of Joffrey being directly named as heir drew a shocked look across the boy's face who glanced to his mother, almost pleadingly for some help from her.
Cersei barely kept her own dismayed look hidden from even Geralt's sharp eyes, quickly turning it into a passive expression. "Let me see that letter Ser Barristan." She'd politely ask before standing up, waking closer for the knight to hand the paper over. Taking it, she'd glance over the written words with a quite dismissive look before a small coy smile crossed her fair lips. "Is this meant to be your shield Lord Stark?" Turning the paper in her hands, she'd casually rip it in half, the sound echoing through the hall. "A piece of paper." Again, the parchment was torn, echoing out again before she tossed the pieces aside.
Beric and even Barristan gawked at what they just witnessed while Thoros held back a growling curse. "She-devil…to disrespect her own husband's last wishes!"
"Those were the King's words." Barristand remarked in shock towards Cersei, who coyly smiled back.
"We have a new King now." She simply stated back with a coy smile.
"You disregard your husband's last wishes?" Geralt suddenly spoke up, drawing Cersei's attention to him. "I witnessed him give those last orders, thought I guess you wouldn't care if the entire world was witness to that moment
"No…I question them." She sharply countered back. "Ever since you and Lord Stark had joined the court, trouble has followed. Suspicious isn't it? Lord Stark has much to gain in being given the title of Regent and while you…his lapdog can earn whatever prize promised."
The Witcher clenched one fist tightly as he was ready to snap back before Ned moved an arm in front of Geralt to silence him. "Is slander and lies your only defense your grace?"
"How amusing. You and your pet 'wolf' have spent months snooping throughout the city…seen in quite questionable places even. Do not think I am naïve or blind Lord Stark."
The gathered crowd muttered, seemed divided on what was going on at this very moment. Geralt knew that was Cersei's goal, twist their actions into something shady and hostile towards the royal family. Already he could see Thoros tensing, the priest's battle instinct seeming on edge. However, he'd put a firm hand on the man's shoulder to calm him down before glancing at Eddard who remained ever calm.
"Aye…you are right." The answer drew surprised reactions from everyone really, showing even Cersei didn't expect Ned to admit to her 'accusations'. "Geralt has been my eyes and ears within King's Landing, investigating the late Lord Jon Arryn's last actions before he was assassinated." The new revelation drew gasps from the nobles, showing few knew the full story of the respected former Hand's passing. "Lord Arryn was seeking King Robert's illegitimate children within the capital, comparing them to with royal children."
Cersei paled slightly, shifting slightly where she stood as Ned openly spoke of this. Her eyes though were like daggers, trying hopelessly to silence Eddard as he continued to speak.
"The ancestry of the Baratheon's is long and well recorded. Always the children of that House bared black hair…a trait every one of his bastard children has. A trait which your sons and daughters lack Queen Cersei."
Geralt couldn't help but smirk from Eddard's dramatic reveal as the hall burst into a flurry of chatter. The gathered courtiers and nobility was arguing, debating fiercely until drowned to the tolling of the bells. Suddenly, Joffrey stood up from the Iron Throne, yelling out over the many voices in a state of pure anger.
"SILENCE!"
All voices obeyed that command, calm returning to the room, nearly everyone glancing at the false prince. The boy's right hand was red, dripping blood from being cut across the bladed arm rest of the throne in his moment of frustration.
"You lie…You lie Eddard Stark…" He growled loudly. "I am the son of Robert Baratheon! I have the right to claim this trone and I will not let your filthy slander disgrace him any further!"
If anything, Geralt felt pity at that moment for the screaming boy. He completely adored his 'father', valuing his name over even the Lannister's from the way he spoke. Yet it also showed just how troubled he was, unstable and broken with the lie he had been raised to believe.
"I do this for his honor. You are faultless in this matter Joffrey…yet your mother must pay for her selfish actions and heinous crimes." Ned stated back, calm unwavering as he stared back at Cersei. "Because I know you planned Robert's murder, along with the attack on his hunt." At that point Eddard gripped one fist tightly, holding back anger. "He was you husband for gods sake…and you murdered him for petty power!"
The room remained silent as Eddard listed the final crime Cersei had committed. Joffrey's look of anger faded, seeming unsure of what to react. He was muttering something to himself before glancing down at his mother, who in turn looked up to him.
"That is enough." She coldly muttered. "No more Eddard. We will not accept these false claims, these imagined crimes. You will not steal the right my family has or deny the people it's proper king!" Again, she looked to Joffrey, nodding slightly to him.
At that point the boy seemed to snap to attention, glancing back at Eddard and his gathered men. "King's Guard, Hound and Watch!" He snapped out. "Arrest Lord Stark and his supporters for treason! Kill any who dare resist!"
At that moment the room was filled with the drawing of steel. Geralt, Jaime and Barristan the first to have their blades out, while the rest followed suit except for Eddard who didn't even reach for his blade.
"Commander!' Ned looked off to the side at one of the Watch captains, a man with a short white beard. "Take the queen and her son into custody! Escort them to their royal apartments and keep them there under guard!"
"Men of the Watch." The Commander spoke loud yet calmly, the guardsmen giving a short yah as they'd lower their spears towards the Lannister's forces, who shifted back nervously being vastly outnumbered. Yet despite this…Geralt sensed something was wrong. It was the look on Cersei's face, she was faintly smiling.
"I want no bloodshed. Tell your men to lay down their weapons and no one needs to die."
There was a short pause, which to Geralt felt like a full minute as he saw Cersei's gaze glance to the Watch Commander, their gazes meeting before she gave a short nod. Adrenaline kicked in as the Witcher realized the spears weren't pointed at their enemies…but at their very backs.
"EVERYONE MOVE!" He yelled out before the Commander gave out an order, the guardsmen suddenly lunging in to attack.
Four of the Stark men were impaled through the back with spears, howling out as they grasped at the metal tips piercing through their chests. Two others got stabbed into the side, forcing them onto their knees before they were stabbed again, spewing up blood as it filled up their throats and lungs. The other four barely reacted in time, drawn blades swatting the jabbing spears aside, just sparing their lives for a few more moments.
Yet for Geralt, Beric and Thoros, they had six guards focus on them. They no doubt knew just how dangerous the trio were, trying to kill them in a coordinated surprise attack. The Witcher though was faster, steel blade slashing widely to cut three of the spears shafts apart, leaving them useless without their metal tips.
Thoros yelled out fiercely as he'd just dodge the jab, left hand grabbing the spear shaft and yank guardsman forward. The unlucky man got a sword driven into his gut before being kicked off the blade in a bloody fashion.
Beric parried one of the spears stabbing at him, though the other just reached him. He twisted his body as it stabbed at his shoulder, drawing a pained cry as the spear tip just pierced through his chainmail to draw blood. It was a minor wound, which did little to weaken his guard as he'd strike the pommel of his sword into the man's face, breaking the nose and forcing him back.
"Protect Lord Stark!" Geralt yelled out as he glanced about, seeing the four remaining Stark guards get picked off one by one before they could regroup with the others. However, what really caught the Witcher's off guard the was sight of Littlefinger grappling Ned from behind, a familiar curved dagger pressed at the Northern lord's throat. It was the missing twin of the Valyrian dagger that Geralt had strapped to the side of his hip. "You bastard…"
Baelish had a sly grin across his face, making sure that sharp blade pressed closely to Eddard's neck to force him back towards the line of Guardsmen. "Don't be angry Witcher. The game was set against you since the beginning." He answered back. Ned tried to struggle free, his movements making the blade lightly draw blood. "Now Ned, you wouldn't like to slit your own throat…" The backstabbing noble chuckled.
At this point the Watch along with the King's Guard and Hound slowly closed in towards Geralt, Beric and Thoros. The trio soon were back to back, protecting each other's blindside. Barristan neared the Witcher, his calm eyes looking directly into the Witcher's feline like gaze. The Lord Commander said nothing, yet in truth that sharp gaze spoke much.
"Heh well done Lord Baelish! Your loyalty is true as expected." Joffrey chuckled out as Littlefinger soon had Eddard grabbed by three Guardsmen, who quickly disarmed and shackled him.
Baelish simply bowed back, almost as if to mock Ned and Geralt. "It was the right thing to do your grace. I couldn't simply let such treason be ignored."
"Damn you to the Seven Hells Baelish!" Ned snapped out before getting punched across the face by one of the guards, silencing him before he could curse out any further.
Cersei smirked in sadistic glee seeing Eddard beaten before her, yet she didn't let it distract her for too long as her gaze focused on surviving members. "So 'White Wolf'…where is your fighting spirit?" Her tone mocking, making the Witcher growl in anger. "Thoros. It is a shame you were deluded joining their side. Then again you are a lowly drunkard, a man of weak faith."
"Piss off you bitch!" He snapped back, giving a quite evil grin at her.
"Hound cut out his tongue once he is captured. He just said his last words." Joffrey ordered out, the armored man only nodding slightly at the command. "The three of you deserve to suffer for your transgressions. My father trusted all of you and now you betray it after his death. Especially you Witcher. I looked up to you…adored you even after seeing what you could do." The boy paused, eyes gleaming with a sudden idea. "That is why I give you a choice. Bend the knee and admit that I am the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Do what Lord Stark refused. In turn…I may show mercy. Exile for you while the rest are sent to the Wall for the rest of their days."
Geralt gripped his steel blade tightly in both hands, staring up at the boy with a cold look. He'd glance to Beric and Thoros beside him, both men tense yet knowing very well the odds were very much against them.
"Do what he says Geralt." Jaime suddenly spoke up, making the Witcher look forward to see the blond-haired knight standing beside Barristan. He would have expected a smug look across the man's face yet instead it was one of pleading. "Don't throw your life away like this. It's not worth it."
Again, Geralt remained silent as his mind was rapidly thinking over possible escapes. Even with his skills, he couldn't outmatch so many at once, not with the mass of spearmen surrounding him. It all came down to one person.
"Ser Barristan." He calmly muttered, though the aged knight hardly moved when spoken to. "Remember what I said after the hunt, about the choice between duty and doing what is right?"
"What are you blathering about Witcher?' Cersei questioned, yet Geralt continue to speak.
"Yes." The knight answered back in a calm voice.
"Time to decide on which you value more." With that, the Witcher dropped his sword at his feet, the steel blade's clanging echoing through the throne room.
"Geralt! What in the hell are you thinking?!" Thoros whispered in shock.
"Stalling." He muttered back.
"For what?' Beric questioned.
"For the right moment. When it comes, grab the bombs on my belt. Pull the pins and throw them. Cover your faces as soon as you do else you'll be stunned."
"Are you just going to stand there Geralt?' Joffrey spoke up, interrupting their whispering. "You are doing well so far. All you need to do is kneel and admit my right to rule."
For a moment Geralt gazed about the hall, noticing how Varys had disappeared during the conflict. It was a small detail, yet one he felt was important. Slowly he'd start to shift down onto one knee while he glanced over to Eddard, the man's face having such a shamed look seeing his friend submitting in such a way. However, the Witcher gave a small smile at Ned, making a confused look cross the man's face.
He'd stop halfway to kneeling as he'd look back up at Joffrey, an odd look showing across the boy's face. "You know what…fuck you. I'd rather be dead then grovel to a pasty spoiled brat like you." Standing up straight, he'd see the prince trembling in brewing anger while Cersei stared in complete shock. The woman tried to speak up, wanting to warn her son yet the prince reacted first.
"KING'S GUARD! HOUND! WATCH! KILL HIM! KILL THEM ALL!"
Jaime and his fellow brothers in arms were too shocked to react to the command while the Hound seemed to be…laughing out loud at what he had just witnessed. Barristan though didn't hesitate, the old knight rushing in with shocking speed, swinging his sword down at the Witcher. Geralt reacted just as fast as he'd swipe his wolf sigil bracer out, timing it perfectly to deflect the attack. Both men were up close, nearly face to face for a split second.
"Run."
The one word shared was all Geralt needed, before he'd kick the man right in the chest. His peak human strength and steel toed boot dented that golden chest plate, making Barristan be flung back with a pained yell. His arms were out wide as if bracing for a fall, while in fact he 'accidently' tackled down Jaime along with another King's Guard within his reach. Jaime cursed out, caught off guard by the sudden fall which knocked his blade free from his grip.
Geralt however did not pause for a moment, thrusting both hands forward and flexing his fingers into a duel Aard. Putting his full focus into the Sign, the burst of telekinetic force flew out wide across the end of the throne room. It was strong enough to fling everyone onto their backs, including the Hound and King's Guards who hadn't be knocked down beside their Lord Commander. Cersei screamed out in terror as she was flung roughly aside, while Joffrey cried out having his back slammed into the rough back of the Iron Throne. For those who hadn't been hit by the Sign, they'd gawk in complete disbelief, unsure of what they just witnessed. As for Geralt, he felt an intense dizziness hit him like before, only far more intense as he felt like he was going to faint. Despite the feeling though he'd stand strong, swiping his blade off the ground and getting into a battle-ready stance.
At that same moment though, Beric and Thoros reacted as well. Each man grabbing a bomb at the Witcher's belt before throwing the alchemical devices into the crowd of shocked Watch before they'd turn their heads away and used their free arm to cover their faces. Loud bangs filled the room as the Samum bomb exploded in blinding flashes of light and smoke, drawing shocked cries among the crowd of soldiers and courtiers.
"MOVE!" Geralt ordered out, as the trio turned as one for the doorway out. There were only six guards in their way, only partly blinded by the bombs. They were quick to recover from being stunned, but that was all the time the group needed to fight through. Both Geralt and Thoros gave a powerful shoulder charge to tackle the men aside, putting their strength to full use while the Watch's stance was weak. The group barreled out of the throne room and into the grand entrance hall. They could hear fighting echoing from outside in the main yard, the rest of the men loyal to Eddard clashing against a large ambush of Lannister soldiers.
"Go help the men! Fight your way out of the keep and get out into the city!" Geralt quickly ordered Beric while Thoros slammed the heavy doors of the throne room shut, buying them a few more precious seconds.
"What about you?" Beric quickly questioned
"I need to get Ned's daughters. You two focus on staying alive! I'll find you somehow!" Before they could argue, he was already rushing down one hall leading deeper into the keep. Despite how fast he moved, he felt a gnawing exhaustion creeping over him ever since he did that duel Sign. "Have to keep going. Just a bit longer."
…
"Foreign bastard!"
The Lannister soldier swung out at the short duelist who casually batted attack aside with his study practice sword. Soon there be a ringing bang as wooden sword bashed into the man's armored head, knocking his armored form to the ground.
"And you will be speaking to me with more respect." Syrio had his other hand shift from behind his back, drawing his rapier from its sheath. He'd agilely spin both weapons in his hands, pacing slowly about as Ser Trant and the four other Lannister soldiers shifted to try surrounding both him and Arya.
"Kill the Braavosi and bring me the girl." The King's Guard ordered to the other men, their swords at the ready.
"Seems our lesson is over child. Stay away while I deal with our guests. I swore to your father to watch you after all." The man showed no fear as he spoke while his gaze shifted between the soldiers, trying to judge who'd make the first move.
Arya stood back, Needle in hand yet open worry hinting her face. While she trusted in her teacher's skill, she couldn't deny that the odds were against him still. "I can-" She started before suddenly one of the soldiers lunged for her, trying to slip by the duelist and take her hostage.
Syrio though was faster, body twisting about as he'd slide his thin blade through a gap in the soldier's ornate armor, drawing a pained cry weapon sunk in deep. The wooden sword followed up striking across his head to knock him aside, before the duelist turned about to parry an incoming blow. The two soldiers who rushed him soon were pushed onto the defensive as Syrio began a deadly dance with his weapons. He'd use the wooden sword to break the soldiers guard before following up with quick stabs or short cuts with his rapier
The two other men tried to aid their allies, yet Syrio dodged and turned about. He'd trip and push the men into each other, misdirecting any attack towards him onto another. More pained cries filled the air as one by one the soldiers were picked off, all badly wounded between Syrio direct attacks or from accidently harming each other. Arya flinched seeing blood pool under the fallen men, all of them too wounded to keep fighting.
"Useless oafs." Trant growled as he'd draw his long sword and raise up a shield, slowly closing in towards the duelist.
Syrio sidestepped about the knight, trying to outmaneuver the more heavily armored man. As before he'd use the wooden sword defensively, yet it began to crack and splitter as Trant struck back with powerful sword blows and bashes with his shield. The duelist's rapier did get past the shield, but even the exposed points were two well armored to pierce.
"Need a bigger sword, fool." Trant laughed out while Syrio remained silent, a cold fierce glare in his eyes. Suddenly there'd be the sound of metal being rended, followed by the man giving a pained cry as he was slashed across his back. Falling to his knees, the King's Guard was barely able to support himself as he glanced back to see Geralt loomed over him, blooded steel sword in hand. "You…freak…" He gasped before Syrio struck across the man's jaw with the wooden sword with a resounded crack. The sword broke from the force, Trant's jaw and right cheek no doubt suffering the same fate before slamming his head to the stone floor."
"The aid wasn't needed Witcher…though welcomed." Syrio sighed, though he gave a small thankful grin as he'd toss the broken training sword aside.
Geralt looked over the room with the wounded soldiers spread about, groaning out in pain from their wounds. "Seems like you handled yourself well enough." His attention focused on Arya who looked right back at him, her worried expression quickly becoming a joyful one.
"Geralt!" She hurried over to him to, almost giving him a hug before realizing this wasn't the right time. "What is going on? Father was acting odd this morning and…did something bad happen?"
"Its difficult to explain." The Witcher muttered before echoing yells could be heard from hallway, making both him and Syrio glance to the doorway. Placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, he gave a serious look to her. "I'll tell you what happened once we're safe. I promised your father that I'd keep you and your sister safe, no matter the odds."
The girl was silent, obviously worried over what was going on. "I…I understand. Yet where are we going to go?"
Already Geralt was wondering the same thing. No doubt all the ways leading directly out of the Keep were being watched by now. While he was certain he and Syrio could fight their way though, he didn't want to put Arya and Sansa at risk by putting them near another fight. "We'll find a way." He assured Arya after a moment. "Right now, we need to find your sister before we leave."
"I'm not certain. I saw her with Jory earlier this morning heading off to the gardens."
"Then we best search there." Syrio remarked. "At the least within the gardens we'll have more cover to elude the guards."
Nodding in agreement, Geralt moved to the doorway out to check outside the hall. "Then let's go. Syrio, watch our back. Arya, you stay close behind me. If trouble comes, I expect you to keep away or run if need be."
"I'm not helpless you know!" The girl argued. "I know your trying to protect me…but what was the point training me if-"
"Because if you hesitate for an instant, you may very well get hurt." Geralt sternly warned. "I know you want to help, but right now there are too many risks. If needed you can defend yourself, but right now we must focus on escaping. Is that clear?"
The commanding tone had Arya quiet down before nodding in understanding.
"Good. Now let's move."
The group quickly filed out of the room, sneaking a winding route towards the gardens. Sometimes they'd stop as a group of guards hurried by, just avoiding them as they'd hang back to hide behind some cover.
"Our way is becoming more difficult Geralt…" Syrio warned.
"I've noticed." Geralt muttered back as he'd glance around the next corner. He'd notice one of the rooms along the hall open and a familiar robed figure standing at the doorway. Despite the chaos going on through the Keep, the spymaster looked ever calm, even amused from the way he stood there. The chubby man gave a small nod to the Witcher to follow along before disappearing into the room.
So…what is the Spider planning?" The duelist muttered, having just noticed the man as well.
"Either helping us or luring us into a trap. I hopefully helping." Checking about once more, he'd gesture for the group to hurry towards the room. Syrio was quick to close and lock the door behind them while Geralt focused on Varys who was pacing along the western wall of the room, a simple bed chamber by the looks of it. "So, Master of Whispers, did things play out as you expected?" He calmly questioned, sword at the ready for any surprises.
At first Varys didn't react as he'd touch his hand along the stone wall, almost as if he was looking for something. "I had many predictions on the outcome. Mainly it came down to the role Baelish would play…a costly mistake on Lord Stark's part. I'm certain you were very much against his involvement, so the blame isn't on you." He'd suddenly answer back. "I will admit your escape from the throne room was unexpected. Even with knowing about your formable skills, I was doubtful you'd leave that chamber alive, much less with your companions in tow."
"I had a few surprises left." Geralt simply remarked back.
"Yes…" Varys tone became quite cold for a moment, eyes narrowing in a very judging manner. His hand pressed to another stone which clicked, sinking slightly into the wall. "Ah there it was." The chubby man pushed up against the wall which slowly swung open like a door, revealing a dark passage behind it. "While I have many thing to say about you Geralt, now is not the best time." He'd fold his hands into the sleeves of his robes, again taking that calm stance. "The Red Keep has many secret passageways such as this. Follow this way until you reach an intersection, then take the right passage until you reach some stairs. Continue down and you should be led to the cliffs by Black Harbor, where a mutual friend of ours will be awaiting to help you. I'm certain from there you will be able to handle yourself."
For a while Geralt didn't answer as he glanced to Syrio and Arya. The duelist had a cautious look about him while Arya seemed nervous about the spymaster, considering the fact she knew nothing of the man. "Syrio, take Arya ahead. I'll follow along in a moment."
"If you think that is for the best." Syrio answered back before gesturing for Arya to follow along.
For a moment the girl hesitated before she'd follow closely after her teacher, giving a worried look to Geralt before she disappeared down the dark passage.
"Why help now?" Geralt asked once his companions were gone, letting him speak privately with Varys.
"Because as I said before, I'm best suited to help in my subtle ways. If I was standing alongside you when you shared your accusations, I'd either be dead on the end of a spear or in chains like Lord Stark. Better that I work unsuspected among our enemies…" He'd pause as he'd pace away slowly. "For one, I can say Sansa is beyond your reach for now."
"Why is that?"
The spymaster rolled his eyes a bit. "She's been captured already and under heavy guard. Cersei had planned ahead to blackmail Lord Stark if things didn't play out in her favor."
"Damn it…" Geralt gripped his sword tightly, hating how the situation was only getting worse. "Why should I take your word as fact? You could be very much lying to me, trying to dissuade me."
"Because I have no reason to lie. If anything, your attention should be getting the other girl as far away from here as possible." Varys calmly countered back. "Debating won't help the matter. Focus on escaping and leave the rest to me. A time will come when your talents will be needed."
Remaining silent, the Witcher glanced to the passage way, unable to deny that time was key right now. After what Lord Baelish had pulled off, he was hesitant to believe people like Varys. If anything, he could sense a more hostile feeling coming off the man, the similar vibe he'd received countless times from those discriminated against anything magical. "Then pray you don't make the same choice as Littlefinger." He warned as he'd move for the dark passage. "If you do see him though…give him a message."
Varys turned to glance at the Witcher, the man's cat like eyes glowing fainting in the low light of the hidden passageway.
"Tell him if I ever see him again. I'll kill him." It was a cold and blunt message, chilling enough that even Vary seemed to shiver for a moment.
The spymaster simply bowed slightly in response, composing himself after that message was given. "Be safe Witcher. Oh, and don't worry about contacting me. I'll find you instead." With that said, he'd grasp the hidden doorway and pull it closed, leaving Geralt in darkness.
…
It was a long trek through the passageways, yet Varys direction proved true in the end. Geralt, Syrio and Arya squeezed through a tight exit out of a natural opening onto a cliffside trail, set below the looming Red Keep. Alarm bells were still ringing out, showing the search was still ongoing. Arya moved to lightly grip Geralt's left arm, making him glance down to see the girl's worried face. He'd give a soft smile to ease her distress, though he'd glance up suddenly when he heard someone speak up.
"Witcher! Over here!" Farther down the trail was Davos, the grizzled sailor standing by row boat with a crewman sitting within it. "Seems the Spider was right to warn me." The man muttered as the group neared him, Syrio and Geralt sheathing their weapons for the moment. "I was worried things go south within the court. Is Lord Stark…" However, he'd stop himself when he noticed Arya among them, no doubt feeling it unfitting to mention her father currently.
"I'll tell you what happened later. I take you have someplace safe for us to hideout?"
"Aye, an old warehouse at the harbor. It will be secure enough for us to plan our next more from there." Gesturing to the rowboat, the crewmen would pull lift-up some heavy cloth covers. "Everyone best hide themselves. The harbor is being watched, so we need slip by unnoticed."
Arya glanced at Geralt, seeming unsure to follow along with Davos directions. "You can trust Davos. He's one of the most honest men I've met." The Witcher assured her.
"I believe you…just…I've never been on a boat before." Arya answered back, seeming embarrassed on the matter.
"Don't you worry Lady Stark. This here is the sturdiest rowboat you'll ever ride in all of the known seas." Davos remarked, putting his friendly nature to use to ease any worry she felt.
The young Stark couldn't help but smile back, the first time since this crisis began. "Fine then captain." She chuckled before she'd carefully step onto the small boat while Syrio followed along, pausing to speak to Davos.
"I can say I've heard of your name before back in Braavos. The elusive Davos, the master smuggler of the Narrow Sea."
"Heh, never knew I had such a name considering. Still that was a long time ago." The captain muttered.
Geralt was the last before the trader kicked the boat away from the rocky shore, agilely jumping in despite the distance. Sitting down, he and his crewmen grabbed the oars to start rowing. The others would focus on staying low in the boat while they tugged gray cloth over themselves. Arya did yelp whenever a strong wave rocked the ship, Geralt reached one hand out for her to hold and calm herself. While they couldn't see anything, they soon were surrounding by the bustling noises of the harbor. Nearby ships creaked in the water, sails flapping in the wind and chatter of people on the docks. It was a slow ride, though it seemed the guards hadn't gotten patrols to watch the waters as the party rowed by without issue.
Drifting down one of the side channels that lead to the storehouses, Davos soon spoke up. "We're clear now. You can come out." The cloth was pulled off to reveal they were docked at an old yet well kept warehouse. More of Davos crew were either busy moving boxes of supplies about or keeping watch. The trade got out first, offering a hand to help Arya out while the rest carefully climb out onto the dock.
"Quite the place." Geralt remarked as they'd soon be guided to the main doors into the building.
"Ever since the Rebellion I've been able to expand my trading business. I have warehouses like this across the major ports of Westeros and Essos. Allows me to build up a supply until a demand is needed." Davos explained. The inside of the building was quite large, having a maze like lay out with crates, barrels and chests set orderly about. The captain guided them through the maze to a separate area, a bunk and plain sitting space for the workers. "This is the best we can offer for now. Basic comforts yet secluded."
"I've stayed in far worse. Overall it will do." Geralt commented while he watched Arya pace around the room, seeming distracted with her thoughts.
"I know you're concerned for the girl…but we need to talk privately." Davos whispered back.
Nodding, the Witcher moved over to Arya, getting her attention once she neared. "Need to talk?"
Her gaze drifted away from him before she'd move to sit in an empty chair. Her hands fiddled with Needle in it's sheath, showing her anxious nature. "Just…I'm worried about father and Sansa."
"So am I. However, we can't let such thoughts distract us. Remember our lessons, focusing on be calm and clear minded no matter the situation."
"Just…just…" She'd grip both hands tightly over her sword. "I just wish I could do something. I know you and others are going to try to save my family. Yet…I can't do anything."
"Being powerless is always a terrible feeling. I've faced it many times before and I'm certain I'll face it time again." Like before he'd place a hand on her shoulder. "You were brave at the Keep. I need you to be brave still in the coming days. Anything can happen, so I need you alert for any trouble."
It took the girl a moment to compose herself, glancing up into the Witcher's cat like eyes. "I will. Just…promise me you'll get father and Sansa back."
"Promise." Shifting back, he'd look to Syrio and Davos who had moved to the doorway of another room. Giving a final nod to Arya, he'd move to join them in a small meeting room.
"You handled that well. The girl is troubled, through most her age would be a sobbing mess." The duelist remarked as they all sat down around a table.
"Can't imagine what's going through her mind, fearing for her family." Davos muttered in agreement. "Right now, the odds are against us. The city is on high alert and the Watch will surely set bounties for everyone who escaped."
"Any news about Lord Beric or Thoros?" Geralt questioned.
"Only they we're last seen outside the gates of the Red Keep with a score of fifty men. They forced out of the yard before reinforcements broke their ranks. They are no doubt spread out across all of King's Landing."
"Then that's our first course of action, regrouping. Gathering up Thoros, Beric and the other Stark loyalists will at least improve our defenses."
"Aye. I send my men out to search about, use some of my contacts as well. May take a few days though to avoid drawing attention."
"Have to rely on the fact Cersei thinks we're divided and weak. She'll no doubt focus the Watch on the exits out of the city instead of searching every inch of the city."
"Let us hope so. If that woman didn't fear you before she does now. She will surely act more unpredictable." Syrio remarked.
"Then let's hope Lord Tywin reins her in slightly. Doubt he will be thrilled once he learned what happened at the court."
"Surely he will support his daughter in the end."
"Maybe…course he knows the crisis that will happen if any harm comes to Eddard or his daughters. No point in winning the Iron Throne if half of the Kingdoms turn against you."
"Whatever the case, you two best rest while I handle things. I'll be sure to update you on any news and rumors that come around." Davos shifted out of his seat, moving towards the door to leave.
Geralt gave a tired sigh as he'd rub one hand over his face, stroking over the growing scruff across his chin. "Can't believe all of this happened still. Fate must really have a sick sense humor to force me into situations like this."
"You've been through this before?" Syrio curiously questioned.
"Long story…one I'm too tired to share." Shrugging his swords off his back, he'd set them on the table while he'd lean back. "I need to rest. Have some time to myself…if you don't mind Syrio."
"I understand well my friend. I'll try to keep young Arya distracted in the meantime."
The Witcher only nodded as he'd close his eyes, body feeling drained after using Signs back in the hall. He hated how the growing risks were limited his capabilities. Right now, the last thing he needed was exhausting himself or even knocking himself out in the middle of a fight. He knew another fight was going to rear its ugly head eventually and he needed to be in top form to face it.
…
Three days slowly pasted by, dull yet tense days as Geralt watched Davos men bring in scattered Stark loyalists. Most detailed their difficult battle out of the Red Keep, only to get surrounded by Tywin's soldiers who were returning to the Keep at that moment. Most were captured in that case, leaving only a third of the force remaining.
News was quickly released, mainly the declaration of Joffrey being the next King of the Seven Kings. Then there were the claims of Eddard attempting a coup in a selfish grab for power, using lies of Joffrey being a bastard of Cersei with an unknown individual. Geralt wasn't certain if the Queen had this information leak out from the Court or the gossiping nature of that environment had let such details slip. There was a brief list of co-conspirators released, with the Witcher being listed as the second in command along with having a largest bounty of fifty thousand gold crowns. There was no mention of his Signs, making him assume they either decided to hide the fact his magical nature or perhaps they didn't understand what had happened during the escape from the throne room.
Beyond that, there was no details on the inner workings within the Red Keep, though Geralt assumed Varys would fill him in when the spymaster decided to reveal himself. On the fourth night since Ned's capture, Geralt would sudden heard loud chatter outside in the main common room. He'd quickly head over to find the surviving men gathered around Thoros and Beric, the two men looked dirtied and quite roughed up by the looks of it.
"You crazy bastard!" Thoros laughed out when he saw the Witcher, moving up to firmly shake hands with. "We thought you were going through hell, but here you are lazing around in a dank warehouse."
"Gotten lucky really." Geralt remarked back, a small smirk on his face. "What have you two been through? Heard a lot of mixed rumors, some claims you were dead or had fled the city."
"Hiding out in Flee Bottom." Beric explained. "A few of the locals helped, mainly recognizing Thoros from the tournament. The guards tracked us down, forced us to flee and fight a few times. We were lucky Davos men found us since the bounties put on us were quickly turning the peasants against us."
"Greed is a useful weapon, something the Lannisters use well." Geralt looked between his two companions. "Right now, you two deserve a long rest and wash. You both saved a lot of lives getting your men to spread out through the city."
"Aye…but doesn't change the fact over what happened." Beric muttered grimly. "Its only a matter of time that Cersei and her son put Lord Stark on a public trial and as for Sansa…they no doubt will force her to marry Joffrey to ensure control of the North in the years to come."
"A power grab through force." The Witcher muttered. "So then what do we do now?"
Everyone in the room glanced between each other before all eyes focused on the Witcher, who glanced about as if expecting them to be looking at someone else.
"Wait…surely you're not expecting me to lead everyone? Lord Beric, these are your men after all, and you have an official position considering."
"That is true though relying on my title will do little. I'm a minor lord considering and my influence here in King's Landing is nonexistent now that I'm branded a traitor. Besides I lack any connections within the capital." The nobleman answered back. "When all seemed beak in the throne room, it was your quick planning and skill that got us all out alive."
"Don't look to me Geralt. I know a dozen prayers to the Red God and will fight any man you point me to…but leading has never been a skill of mine." Thoros quickly reacted when Geralt's gaze moved onto him.
The Witcher was silent as he looked over the group, gazes of respect even a bit of awe showing. Everyone must have heard of the daring escape out of the Keep along with the fact he openly insulted Joffrey and Cersei in such a bold manner. Geralt never saw himself as a leader, it wasn't right for a Witcher to take such a role. Yet it had happened time and again.
"For one we need an escape plan from the city. Leaving by land is going to be impossible with such a large group…lucky we have Davos here."
The trader decided to speak up, having been hanging back for most of the conversation. "My ship should be able to sneak everyone out of the city. Will need time to get proper disguises and other arrangements so that we have no trouble slipping away from the capital and to the safety of Dragonstone."
"You think Lord Stannis will let us stay?"
"Of course, he will! Lord Stark put his reputation and life on the line to declare Stannis as the rightful heir. If has second thoughts I will argue for days and nights to change his stubborn mind."
"Heh, good to know." Geralt paused in thought before Thoros spoke up.
"What about Lord Stark and his other daughter? Surely we should plan a rescue or-"
"No."
"What?! You're not suggesting we let that damn witch parade him around and-"
"You're not thinking right Thoros. Cersei may be power hungry but she's not stupid. If Eddard dies, the whole North along with its allies will lash out in vengeance. If we try and free him, we'll only verify him as a traitor even further."
"Just not right to leave him…" The Red Priest grumbled.
Beric put a firm hand on the man's shoulder. "You're sense of loyalty is right, but the approach is wrong. Using force got us into this crisis, we can't make that mistake again."
"Thoros does have one point, we need to be ready for anything. Weapons and armor could help if any surprises come around."
"Sadly I can't simply buy arms and armor for you. Doing so no would surely draw attention to me and possibly expose us." Davos muttered.
With that detail shared, Geralt thought for a moment before an idea came to mind. "May have someone who can help with this…"
…
Tobho Mott stroked his beard as he'd study over the vast pile of notes he had, dozens of arcane studies from both the city of Qohor and runes Geralt had shared with him. On his desk there was also a set of scales which had a mix of different ores set into it, rare materials that the Witcher had also shared.
"So close…everything is making sense now…" The master smith muttered as he'd quickly cross out an equation he had made before redoing it again. "The material quality is right…yet what is wrong with the forging process?"
"Working this late Mott?"
The smith gasped as he'd sit up in his seat, turning about to see Geralt at the doorway. With the darkness surroundings the man shivered seeing those piercing cat eyes staring at him.
"So, is it true what happened?" The man muttered, tense still from being surprised.
"What do you think?"
There was a long pause before Mott relaxed, letting go of a fine dagger he had hidden among the papers. "It makes no sense for a man like you or Lord Eddard to attempt a coup. You're far to honest and direct for such a thing."
"You trust that logic?"
"Could just be my gut instinct…either way I know why you're here. You need my help."
Geralt nodded as he'd move closer, pacing along the nearby displays of fine armor and weapons. "We need supplies. weapons and light armor, simple protection."
"How many?"
"Enough for twenty men."
Mott sighed at the number. "I can do fifteen at least. If I sent for any more then I'd draw attention."
The Witcher knew better then to debate on the matter, knowing the smith was putting a lot on the line by helping. "Then that will have to do. I guess the issue will come to the price…"
"No need. This won't cost you?"
"Why? I can surely-"
Again, Mott spoke up. "You don't understand. Considering everything you have shared with me over the past few months, I feel I'm about to make a discovery of legendary proportions."
"Wait you don't mean…"
Mott gave a wide grin as he'd gesture Geralt closer to the table, showing over his notes. "Your diagrams and materials gave quite key insights on crafting Valyrian Steel. For one the ores needed are rare, though obtainable with the right sources." The man explained. "Magical inscribing was tricky for a while, though the runic designs helped fill in the gaps. This explains why such blades never need sharpening or ever rust."
"Seems like you have everything down."
"So, it would seem…" The smith muttered. "I've already done some trial tests. Took a long while to get most of the steps detailed correct, but despite all of this I haven't had success. I've made some fine weapon, yet still not to the right quality."
"Any idea what is the issue?"
A low chuckle escaped from the master smith. "I guess it's the only logical really. My theory would explain why no one has ever been able to recreate Valyrian Steel. The issue is the heat required to get the right pressure to bind the ores and magical enhancements together. I used my strongest forge with top quality fuel, only leading to failure." A low laugh soon followed. "The heat required be something only a dragon be capable of giving."
There was a long moment of quiet as the news sunk in, Geralt nodded in agreement. "Still doesn't change the fact you've rediscovered one of the world's most desired secrets."
"Aye…and I plan to continue it. It may take time…years…maybe decades, but I will find a way." Again, an amused chuckle. "Perhaps dragons will simply appear once more. Ah that be such a strange twist of fate."
"You never know."
"Indeed." Nodding his head, he'd give a tired sigh before speaking again. "My ramblings aside, is there anything else you need?"
"Yes, in fact." Geralt reached into his leather jacket to take out two pieces of paper, handing it over to Mott. One was a list of items while the other a meeting point for the gear to be delivered to Davos men. "Need some specialized weapons for myself. Feel its time I pick up on some old techniques."
For a long moment Mott read over the list, shaking his head and smirking. "You are a strange fellow Geralt. Quite the unique selection, though nothing beyond what I have. I'll have your new gear and the supplies for your men within a few days." After memorizing what was written, he'd hold both papers by a nearby candle, carefully setting them on fire before dropping them in the candle tray to cinder away.
"Good. You're doing the right thing helping us Mott." Geralt moved away from the desk, seeming ready to leave. "Business aside though, there is one personal matter to talk over."
"Which would be?"
"Gendry."
Mott's face hardened slightly, knowing well what was going on. "If you plan to drag that boy into all of this…" He sternly warned.
"No, if anything I'm concerned about this life. Cersei and Joffrey will no doubt figure out the identities of Robert's bastard offspring. They all have a better claim to the Iron Throne then Joffrey or his siblings. Joffrey is unstable, he may very well try to round up and kill them all in twisted spite."
"I know that." Mott muttered. "So, what do you propose then?"
"Let me take Gendry out of King's Landing. I have a means of leaving the capital unnoticed and he would be safer at Dragonstone with his uncle."
"Heh and you believe Lord Stannis will be accepting of a bastard of his older brother?"
"Has to be a risk I'll take. If needed I'm sure the Starks will accept him into their protection." Looking at Mott, the man seemed hesitant. "If he stays you may very well end up dead as well. Put your duty and pride aside on this matter."
The master smith was silent for a long moment before he'd give a low sigh. "I will make plans then. The boy will be sent along with the shipment of supplies. Yet…" He'd move to stand up, one hand out to the Witcher. "You swear by the Black Goat that you will protect that boy."
Geralt glanced at the man's rough hand before reaching out to grasp it. "I swear to it then." They'd shake on it, yet for a split moment the Witcher swore his wolf medallion trembled slightly on it's chain, making him wonder if the deal had some magical element to it. He didn't question it though as he'd pull away and move for the door out.
"Then be safe Witcher. Dark days are coming…I feel it…" Mott warned as he'd return to his seat.
…
The Witcher made sure his cloak hood was up to cover his white hair and scarred face as he'd slip through the dark alleyways of King's Landing, taking a longer yet discrete route back to Blackwater Harbor. It was difficult to move around even during the late hours of the night, since the Watch was active throughout all hours of the city. Plus, he couldn't risk the citizens from recognizing him for fear of being reported as well.
So far his trip back seemed peaceful enough, yet as he was nearing the harbor he'd heard someone shifting about behind him. He sudden had a feeling that someone had been following him, making the Witcher tense for his steel blade which he gripped at.
"Please relax Geralt. No need to violence." The calm voice of Varys spoke out from the darkness.
When the Witcher glanced over to the man, he'd quickly notice the heavy crossbow in his hands, a powerful enough to pierce through thick plate armor. The spymaster was in plain clothes, blending in like any other laborer in the city. "You're the one pointing a bolt at my back." Geralt calmly countered back.
"Not taking chances right now, not after what I know about you." Varys kept his distance, making sure Geralt couldn't face him. "I saw about what you did in the throne room. The suddenly 'gush of wind' threw everyone about. Sandor was in quite the rage, claiming he knew for months you had some trickery about you."
Geralt remained silent, debating how to handle this. He felt an Axii would stun Varys long enough to 'persuade' him to drop the crossbow, since he knew the weapon this close would be difficult to deflect at such close range. It was obvious the spymaster had planned well for this encounter. His hand shifted from his sword, making Varys speak up again.
"Hands still Witcher. I know your tricks involve gestures of some kind…and that you have some mind affected power as well." The man stated. "Don't be surprised. Lancel and Pycelle seemed quite odd during times I questioned them, having vague memories after chatting with you."
Again, Geralt was caught off guard by how the man had discovered more of his Signs capabilities. While it didn't mean Varys had a full advantage, it was rare for the Witcher to encounter someone so observant, much less in a world lacking in magic. "So, what do you want then? I thought you planned to aid me?"
"It all matters on how our conversation goes. I want answers, the truth about you and your powers." Varys simply answered. "I know your cover story is a lie…a bad one considering. So, if you want my aid you will tell me everything."
Geralt debated if he should refuse or try to fight back. While Varys had the drop on him, he still had his other Signs to catch the man off guard or just use his mutant reflexes to escape. Yet he knew he needed the spymaster's help, no matter how much he disliked the man. "Its going to be a long story considering. It maybe best we leave this alley." He warned.
"No, we will be fine just here. My Little Birds will keep any prying eyes away, so we will have plenty of time to chat." He'd keep his crossbow steady as he spoke, showing he was focused on his task. "So then…care to begin."
Giving a weary sigh, the Witcher nodded. "If that is your price…though I'll doubt you'll believe me once my tale is done…"
…
Hours pass by as Geralt detailed his history along with the events that lead up to his arrival here in Westeros. Varys was patient as he'd listen to every detail, only asking a few questions on a few certain topics, mainly on how Witcher Signs worked.
"Heh…you were right. It is hard to believe much of what you have shared." The chubby man muttered. "It seems your abilities are gifted…little more then a tool of your profession. Not at all like the arcane arts known in Essos."
"Mind if I ask a question of my own?"
Varys paused before shrugging. "Very one. One question."
"Why the distrust towards magic? If anything such skill and knowledge is limited to this world, practically non-existent."
"True…yet that doesn't mean it can bring suffering still. My…condition is because of one man's ambitions to understand the darker arts. A longer tale for another time really."
"So…it's a personal reason." Geralt paused for a moment in thought. "Now then, what do you plan to do now with me?"
"You upheld the end of my request. I will always be on guard with you Witcher, yet your unnatural abilities aside I know your morals and honesty come first." Slowly he'd lower his crossbow, sighing as his arms were no doubt sore from holding it up for so long. "Perhaps we best get down to business. You surely have many questions to ask."
With the weapon no longer pointed at him, Geralt relaxed slightly, stretching a bit since he had been standing about for so long. "Plenty. What is going on within the Red Keep?"
"Chaos really. Lord Stark may be branded a traitor, but his accusations has spread much doubt. Already there are news of ravens arriving to different lordships, detailing about Joffrey and her other children being a bastards from Cersei's infidelity."
"Seems Eddard was wise to do so before hand."
"A cunning plan on his part, though I doubt it will help his case. That aside, Lord Tywin was quite displeased hearing what happened. It is mainly the fact that his daughter ripped up King Robert's last decree. Had she accepted, she'd seem less guilty of the other accusations thrown onto her and her son. Tywin is no fool, he had planned for his family to take the through naturally, yet Cersei was far too impatient considering how recent events have played out. Because of this, Tywin is keeping a close eye on everything she is doing to ensure there is no more incidents."
"A small reprieve it seems, though I know Lord Lannister is far more calculating then his daughter." Pausing, he'd think for a moment before continuing.
"What about Ser Barristan?"
"The Lord Commander…has been dismissed of his duty with the King's Guard."
"What?" Geralt was baffled at the news.
"It is mainly his failure for capturing you. They claim that he has become too old to uphold the duties of Lord Commander. He was given the offer of lordship and promises of luxurious retirement for his long service, yet he took it as an insult." Varys smiled slightly. "You should have seen how he threw off his armor in the court, even threaten all the King's Guard who nearly apprehend him."
"How did Jaime react?" Geralt was curious considering Barristan was the young knight's mentor.
"He was the only one to not to laugh at him or draw his blade against him. In fact, he seemed quite shocked. However he was also promoted as the new Lord Commander, a promotion none are surprised with."
"So what of Barristan then?"
"Simply gone. I am working to track him down, yet a man of his skills knows how to make himself disappear. I'm certain though he remains in the capital, although why I can't be certain."
Nodding, Geralt thought for a moment before continuing. "What of Eddard and Sansa?"
"Lord Stark will be having a trial the day after Joffrey's coronation for the charge of treason and conspiracy. It is certain his fate will be banishment to the Wall, a safe choice to avoid open conflict with the rest of the North." He'd pause before continuing. "As for Sansa, she is planned to wed to Joffrey and remain a political hostage for the Lannisters. If anything she is their trump card in keeping the Stark family in line."
"It all makes sense, just as everyone else had predicted." Geralt muttered. "Then what can we even do? Both are beyond our reach considering."
"Not entirely." Varys stepped closer, taking out a scroll from one pocket which he handed off. Geralt unrolled it to reveal a detailed map of the Great Sept of Baelor along with the streets leading to the Red Keep. There were arrows detailing the routes certain parties were meant to travel, security plans.
Geralt glanced up at Varys, an odd look in his eyes. "What are you suggesting here?"
"Lord Stark's fate is assured, though we cannot let the Lannister's keep Sansa. I cannot let them have a strangle hold over this country." The spymaster stated. "I wouldn't attempt such a bold plan yet knowing your conviction and skills I feel this will work."
Again, he'd study the map, already ideas coming to mind. "This would be risky to do. It could get the others and I killed."
"If you fear the risks I understand. However you know this may be your only chance to steal a full victory from Cersei. I expect an answer now."
The Witcher was silent, hating how he had so little time to decide on this matter. This was a choice that decide the fates of so many, perhaps even the whole country itself. Clenching the scroll tightly, he'd give a low growl before bowing his head slightly. "Yes. This will be the only chance we got to even the odds."
Varys grinned softly, pleased to see the Witcher's fierce edge showing. "Then we best begin Witcher. History is about to be made…"
…