Chapter 16: S1-E15: City of Kings - Part 3

Chapter 15: City of Kings Part 3

Forward: Wow! 56,000+ views and 400 favorites! I never imagine I'd get this much attention, yet I am deeply honored by everyone's interest in this story! I thank all of you for this great milestone!

…

Lady Catelyn shifted in her seat, nervously fiddling her hands about on her and focusing her gaze to the large open window in Littlefinger's office. Her gaze shifted to Sir Rodrik who pacing around the room, the old yet experienced master-at-arms seeming restless after leaving Flea Bottom. Yet what had the noblewoman nervous was Geralt himself who was leaned back by the wall near the door, his calm yellow eyes set on her unblinking.

"It isn't needed for you to guard me Geralt. Rodrik is more than capable while we wait for my husband."

Geralt didn't answer, staying silent which was unnerving for the woman.

"I don't understand this treatment. I am thankful Lord Petyr has taken us under his protection…even if I wish we did not have to stay at a brothel."

The Witcher still said nothing. Again Catelyn shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

"My reasons for coming here were just. Ned needed to be warned and shown proof that the Lannister's are behind it all. Jon Aryan's death, Bran's fall and the attempt on his life. I know the Lannisters are behind it!"

"Yet are you willing to bet the lives of your family on that?" Geralt finally answered back, voice calm and serious. "I'll admit the Lannister's are the prime suspects, yet we can rush making accusations." He'd step closer to her, continuing to speak. "If you were so concerned, why not send extra men from the North with the dagger in hand."

"I had to be certain it was delivered and Ned warned!" She quickly answered back.

"Despite the risk of being noticed? If you were spotted you could have tipped off the conspirators who would no doubt plan to counter us or be fearful enough to take more aggressive actions be it towards you, Eddard or your daughters."

Catelyn was silent for a moment, a troubled look on her face. "I thought it was the best choice."

Before anyone could say anything more, there'd be a suddenly yell and grunt outside along with a hushed angry voice. "You're a funny man you know that?!"

Catelyn and Geralt both recognized that voice, yet before the Witcher could move the woman was already at the open window. She'd lean out, giving a small gasp before speaking out. "Ned!"

Geralt was close behind her, looking out to see Lord Stark with one hand around Littlefinger's throat, the man struggling and gasping for breath. The instant Ned saw his wife, the fierce look on his face was gone. The iron grip on Lord Baelish's throat quickly let go as the man hurried into the brothel, Littlefinger following close behind after catching his breath. Yet Geralt did just catch a few words the man muttered.

"…quick tempers and slow minds…" Petyr muttered, a small smirk of amusement just on his lips.

It didn't take long for the two to arrive at the study, Ned rushing in and gazing at Catelyn. For a moment the two stared at each other before hurrying to embrace, sharing a short kiss. They whispered words to each other which Geralt try not to pry on, knowing it be rude to do so. When Littlefinger at last entered, the two would shift away, yet remain close besides each other as they'd faced the Master of Coin.

"As you can see. She is here as I promised." Baelish remarked. "If anything you should thank Geralt for finding her."

Ned glanced at the Witcher, giving a short thankful nod before guiding his wife to the nearby chair once more. "We have a lot to talk about Cat." He said as he'd stand before her.

"I know…" She sighed, seeming calmer now with her husband was with her.

Geralt stepped up, his serious look softening slightly. "Guess we should start with the attack that happened back in Winterfell. Was there anything special about the man who attacked you?"

She'd nod. "It was late at night. Robb and I were with Bran who was still asleep from his fall. The fire bell was run as one of the yard stables was suddenly ablaze. Robb hurried out to help and lead the men, while I stayed with Bran." She'd take a steady breath. "Then the stranger came in. He was dirty, wearing a hooded outfit. He seemed surprised that I was there said 'I wasn't supposed to be here'."

"Interesting…seems like he wasn't planning on killing anyone else." Geralt remarked.

Catelyn continued to speak. "He claimed Bran was already dead and that this was a mercy before he…drew that dagger. I got in his way and we struggled. He tried to kill me yet I…stopped the dagger…" She'd hold up her hands, still bandaged up.

"I'll need to look at those later. I know Luwin no doubt tended to them yet the healing seems to be slow."

"Thank you Geralt." She muttered. "In the end the assassin knocked me aside before Summer attacked and killed him. He was inches from Bran and…" She'd take a deep shaky breath while Ned put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, muttering something to her.

At this point Geralt took the time to examine the infamous dagger up close. Indeed it was a fine weapon in deadly quality and artistic design. His attention did shift to Rodrik who had been quiet for most of the day, making him wonder what was on the Master-of-Arms mind. "Something bothering you?"

The old knight sighed and nodded. "Just this whole matter. I understand Catelyn's drive to find the truth behind Bran's crippling, yet feel coming here was a mistake." He muttered. "I tried to dissuade her at first, but she was committed to coming to the capital. While I wished to stay and guard Bran, I couldn't help Lady Catelyn travel alone."

Geralt knew that Rodrik understood the issues this journey meant, along with how it conflicted with his sense of duty. "Don't be hard on yourself. You did well to keep Lady Catelyn safe and hidden during the long trip here." He assured the knight. "Just be sure to be as dutiful when you're heading back to Winterfell."

"Heh…that will be a journey back for sure. Yet I do feel it maybe a while before we leave the capital. Catelyn hardly slept the whole trip and traveled hard once we were on the road."

Looking at the woman, the exhausted hints showed more. The dark circles hinting under her eyes and her body shook a bit from stress. It surprised him she had hidden this for the last few hours, yet only now during a moment of peace did it show. A bit of guilt was felt for being harsh towards her, yet he felt being serious with her had made his points clear.

Turning to Ned and Catelyn, he'd move up to the woman. "Let me see your hands."

She'd nod as she held them out, letting him unwrap the bandages which were quite new. No doubt Rodrik used what basic training he had to ensure her injury was at least tended. Seeing the cut, the skin was still red and gashes still deep even with the stitching Luwin had done over a month ago.

"Nearly cut to the bone no doubt. Valyrian steel can cut through armor with ease…flesh is like butter for it." He muttered. "Flex your hands. How is your feeling? Any pain or numbness?"

The woman opened and closed her hands, wincing a bit when she tried to close them into fists. "Hurts when I try to do that or grip anything tightly. I can't feel much at the center of the palms."

"Must have cut the muscles badly, no doubt from you grabbing the blade. Will take a long time to fully heal, yet could have some permanent damage. Won't know for a few months."

Catelyn nodded while letting him rewrap the bandages. Ned had a troubled look, a hint of anger showing in his eyes over this news. "Is there any treatments that can help?"

"Constant attention by a Maester would be recommended yet I do have some formula and herbs to make specialized ointments. I'll have some prepared by tomorrow at the least."

"Good. We'll need to find a place for her to stay and rest for a while. It will give us time to plan a quick and discrete way for her and Rodrik to leave the city.

At this point Petyr spoke up. "I'd be glad to accommodate Catelyn for as long as needed. I have more comfortable and secret places for her to stay, away from the prying eyes of the Lannisters." Pausing, he'd think for a moment. "In fact I have a plan of how to get her out of the city."

"Interesting. What do you have in mind?" Geralt questioned.

"In little over a week the tournament in honor of Ned will be hosted. During that time the city and royal guard will be busy with the event's security and keeping the common people in line during it." Littlefinger explained. "The day of the Melee will be the busiest, giving Lady Catelyn the perfect chance to slip out of the city."

Both Ned and Geralt looked to each other, speaking in low voices. "Would it work?" Eddard questioned.

"The Melee is the most popular event from what the rumors say. Fifty of the land's most skilled knights and warriors battling it out will draw a large crowd. Besides they no doubt need the extra men to ensure no foul play happens." Geralt answered back.

Eddard thought for a moment, glancing slightly at Petry who was beside Catelyn, the two sharing a private conversation, yet the noblewoman had quite the thankful look on her face. "Tell me…do you trust him?"

The question was suddenly, yet Geralt could understand why. From the moment Ned and Littlefinger had met there was a quick distrust between them. It was obvious both men loved Catelyn, yet Petyr held a deep affection which the woman seemingly didn't notice. Whatever past the two had seemed to remain to a degree, yet the man had a more romantic longing still for the married woman.

"I don't, yet we have few options. You and he may have differences, yet he does care for your wife's wellbeing. At least take advantage of that."Geralt whispered back.

Ned sighed and nodded before looking to Petyr. "Very well. I'll trust you with taking care of Catelyn until the last day of the tournament."

"I will guard her with my life if need be." Lord Baelish replied with a short nod.

Eddard stepped closer to the lord, a serious look. "You better be willing." He muttered quite threateningly, making Littlefinger pale slightly yet keep that friendly small smile. Ned moved to talk with Catelyn privately for a moment before the two shared a short kiss and embrace. "I'll try to visit you when chance comes. For now rest and be safe." With that, he'd move to leave the room, waiting at the doorway for Geralt.

The Witcher gave a respectful nod to Petyr before moving to Catelyn. "Try to rest Lady Stark. Trust me, we'll find the truth about the Lannisters." He'd move to follow Eddard out of the study, yet noticed the odd look on conflict in Catelyn's eyes before he left.

The two walked down the street until they were far enough from Littlefinger's brothel. Turning down a side alley, Geralt glanced around to make sure no one was lurking around. "I have some new leads to follow up."

"Tell me."

"Lord Baelish claims the dagger was his." Geralt drew the weapon, giving Eddard time to examine the fine dagger. "I find it odd he hasn't requested it back. Maybe he isn't that attached to it or is trying to keep us in his favor."

"The man is materialistic to a degree. How did he come to lose it though?"

"Claims he lost it on a bet with Tyrion Lannister during the tourney for Joffrey's name day. I don't buy his story though."

Ned gave a curious look. "Explain."

"He said Tyrion betted against his brother. I doubt even he would go against family pride on such awager."

"And you're certain of that?"

"I've spent a bit over a month with him, I have a good idea of his personality and character. Still I plan to question him on the matter."

"Good. Anything else?"

"Varys give me a surprise visit a few days back."

"Ah…yes…The Master of Whispers. I can say he did the same for me. Shared some very troubling secrets with me about Arryn."

"He did mentioned your mentor. Claimed everything connected back to him and his actions before his death should be traced back."

"Aye…and I've been doing that." Ned remarked back. "He was looking to records relating to orphans throughout King's Landing, those with certain traits and mothers."

"Let me guess, bastards of Robert's no doubt."

"This has been a habit of his for years, even before the Rebellion." Sighing, Ned rubbed his forehead in a tired manner. "I'm not sure if the Lannister's know of this or care. Either way Arryn had a keen interest in a few older orphans."

"I could check up on them. See if I can get any idea of what he was looking for."

Ned thought for a moment and nodded. "It be fitting. If I went out it would draw attention no doubt." Thinking for a moment, a small realization came to him. "In fact the last recent child is close by. A boy named Gendry lives and works at Tobho Mott's workshop. Since you no doubt plan to see him with the dagger, you can see the young man as well."

"Sounds like a good idea. I'll head over right now." Geralt moved to leave the alley. "Stay watchful Ned."

"As do you Geralt." Eddard muttered as the Witcher left the alley.

…

Geralt took the main route back to Great Sept square, yet before he could head southwest for the Street of Steel, a familiar voice called out to him. "Geralt! By the Sevens man you had me worried there!" Glancing about, he'd see it was Davos who hurried through the crowd. "You bolted as if the devil was at your back. What happened?"

"Noticed someone important. Sorry I ran off like that without a warning."

"Its fine…just don't do that again." The Davos chuckled. "Anyway about that meeting you wanted set up..."

"Have had second thoughts on the idea. I found some new information that has changed my investigation quite a bit." Already Geralt was moving down the long street for the Street of Steel, Davos following along. "Have to pay a visit to a renowned blacksmith to examine this." He'd pat the sheathed assassin dagger, Davos quickly realizing it was no ordinary weapon.

"Curious. Seen plenty of weapons yet that seems like no common blade." He remarked. "Ah I forget though…is it alright if I tag along? I have a feeling of you're going on an important matter, but I'll admit I've always wished to meet the famed Tobho Mott."

Geralt thought for a moment and shrugged. "I see no issue with you tagging along. Just expect me to be busy dealing with some private deals with Mott." He'd lead the way, the sea captain following close along.

Entering the busy Street of Steel, Davos glanced around the man shops and stands with a curious interest. "Never been much of a fighter. Always prefer to do my battles behind the wheel of a ship or through negotiation and trade. Still, can't help but admire such work."

"Indeed."

Soon the two arrived at Mott's store and already Geralt could see Davos was amazed by the lavish building and it quite grand entrance. "Not sure if this is meant to be a manor or a shop."

The Witcher opened the way into the store, revealing the many displays of fine and exotic weapons the master smith had made. Already Davos was quick to go around the room, examining all the different weapons and armor with a curious interest. A young clerk would leave from one of the backrooms, quickly noticing the two yet recognizing the Witcher first.

"Ah! Master Geralt. I take you're here to see Master Mott?" The young man asked.

"Indeed. Have a weapon that I want him to examine."

"Of course. Umm…is the gentlemen there a companion of yours as well?" The clerk asked, pointing to Davos, who glanced over.

"Of course. He just wants to tour the place so…thought I could bring him along."

"That is if it isn't an issue." The trader added in a formal manner.

"Heh, it won't be sir. Please follow me. Master Mott is busy in the forge and tutoring his apprentices." The clerk nodded to a heavy wooden and iron bound door which he unlocked, leading to back yard area of the store. The true work was done here as there were a mix of forges, anvils and other workstations set around with young workmen busy on orders. All of them were focused on their tasks, hardly looking up at the three as they passed by.

"Quite young fellows." Davos remarked.

"And lucky. Mott only selects those he deems worthy to serve here at the forges. Most of them worked on the lesser shops along the Street of Steel or within Flea Bottom. You'd be surprised of the talent hidden away in those slums." The clerk explained. "All who work for him get free board and food as well, however he expects professionalism and dedication to their craft. I've seen plenty of aspiring students leave in just a few weeks at a time."

At the largest forge, Mott could be seen watching a young student, a fit teenager with short black hair pumping the bellows of the forge before shifting a heated piece of metal about within the fiery depths. The master smith was changed into more practical clothes instead of his fine robes, wearing light shirt with a leather apron and pants. "Good…the heat is just right." He muttered to the student who'd get a set of prongs out and pull the glowing metal out, laying it over the anvil. The student got a hammer out and began to shape the metal out, flattening and shaping it before heating it again to repeat the process. After a while though Mott realized that he had guests, making him glance over to Geralt and Davos. "Continue on Gendry. Don't over heat the blade too much else it will lose its shape."

"Of course sir." The teenager remarked before returning to his hammering.

Mott approaching Geralt and Davos, a friendly smile on his face as he and the Witcher shook hands. "Surprised to see me in leathers for once?"

"A bit. Guess silken robes don't work well for soot and smoke." Geralt chuckled back.

"Jests aside what brings you here so suddenly? I can see you've brought a friend…"

Davos gave a short bow. "Davos Seaworth at your service."

"Seaworth…ah yes the name is familiar. May not know the story of every House in the kingdoms, yet few new one appear like yours's especially from such common upbringings." Mott remarked. "How is Lord Stannis doing? Haven't seen him in years."

"Well enough. Actively expanding the fleet as of late, a claimed precaution to the rumors going on in Essos. Besides that he is…well…having issues on matters of faith but that is a personal matter."

The last bit was curious to Geralt yet he didn't pry on it just yet. Religion was usually the last subject on his mind. "Introductions aside I do have something to show you." He'd tug the assassin dagger out, Mott eyes widening seeing the weapon.

"Yes…interesting." Looking to Davos, he gave a small nod to him. "Geralt and I must talk privately. You're free to watch my students and see the forges. Just don't touch anything or disrupt the boys work."

"Of course."

Mott gestured for Geralt to follow him back into the shop and then into his study. With the door locked up, the master smith was quick to move to a table with a large tome set on it. Moving closer, the Witcher read the title of the book. "Blades of Lords: Chronicle of Valyrian Weapons." He remarked.

"A quite limited book. I doubt only a few Keeps and the Maesters of Old Town have other copies." He'd flip through the book, pages after pages having illustrations of valyrian steel weapons and the long histories many had. "Many of these blades predate to the Valyrian Empire. Some have been reforged in the early days of the Seven Kingdoms when the knowledge was not as limited." They'd reach one page that detailed Ice, describing how the weapon was given to the family a hundred years before the Doom destroyed the Valyrian Empire. It was an old blade indeed considering it was recently reached its fourth century since being forged.

"So what about this dagger? What's its story?"

Mott flipped through the pages, passing through many interesting sections until at last he stopped at page with a drawing of the curved ornate dagger. "Interesting…the weapon has gone through many renaming yet is often called the Dragon Fang. What many interest you the most was it came as a pair, as twin daggers."

"Twin daggers? That is curious."

"Indeed. The weapons predate to the Valyrian Empire from what this details. Such daggers were said to be commonplace, often a side arm or a show of office. Of course times change. The book says the daggers were often named after the greatest dragon of the time, yet that is of little importance." The man scanned the page. "Let's see…owned by that House then lost…then resold…stolen then rediscovered…AH! The last dagger was recorded of being gifted to House Baelish of the Fingers a few generations back. It mentions only one dagger though, so I guess it was lost over the centuries."

"Guess this confirms Lord Petyr's story of owning it. Course book will need an update on its ownership and history."

"Heh, doubt we will see a new edition over such a minor weapon. I can say this thing has passed hands more times than most and has quite the grim history of assassinations and murders."

"Often that is the only fame a dagger gets."

"I find it odd they didn't try reforging the weapons. Its steel be far more worthwhile as a short sword if done correctly."

Geralt had an odd idea come to mind. "It there even enough metal to do so? It's a large dagger but…I know reforging often loses some of its mass."

For a moment Mott was silent, glancing away for a moment before speaking. "It is possible. Admittedly the blueprints and materials you brought have given me new theories on valyrian steel. No concrete proof on making more steel, but perhaps given time…" He was silent, seeming unsure. "If I did reforge the dagger and mix it with compounded mix of meteorite ore and…Yes it could work."

"Mott what are you muttering about?"

"An idea. It's a crazy one yet one that tempts me." Sighing he'd shake his head. "As appealing as my theory is, I know this weapon is a piece of evidence in your investigation." He'd hand the dagger back to Geralt who seemed to stare thoughtfully at the curved weapon.

"You'll have to tell me one day. If anything it has me curious." Geralt remarked.

"Heh. One day yes. I need time to think it over…since one mistake will be costly." He'd close the book and sigh. "Daggers and history aside I have made progress on your armor improvements." Gesturing to small drafting desk, he'd point out some sheets of paper which Geralt began shifting through. "What do you think?"

For a while Geralt's yellow eyes scanned the pages, impressed at the detail up into the design, even calculating weight. "Different from what I usual wear but effective." Pausing, he'd glance back at Mott. "How long would you need?"

"Just a week. These improvements have to be carefully done considering the armor's special design. It should be ready before the tournament if that is what you're worried about."

"Good. I'll have it brought in by tomorrow morning and you can begin working on it." Stacking the design papers together, he'd step away from the desk. "Anyway there is one last matter. I'd like to speak to a student of yours, Gendry, the young man you were with earlier."

"Why is that?" Mott's eyes hinted a bit of worry in it for a moment.

"It's about my investigation. I'm following up on what Jon Arryn was doing before he died."

Mott was silent, a serious look hinting his face. "Geralt. You are a good friend but…I ask you not to pry on this matter."

"Why? Because Gendry is most likely one of King Robert's bastard, maybe his oldest?"

The smith glanced aside nervously. "The boy knows nothing of that."

"And I know that. Not trying to present him as the true heir to the Iron Throne or hurt him because of his bloodline. If anything he is better off here in your care. I don't give a damn about succession politics, only finding out why the late Hand had such an interest in him."

"Jon Arryn was…confirming if Gendry had traits of his father. He didn't talk much to the boy, only simple questions of his upbringing in Flea Bottom and how he came under my service. An unknown lord paid for his apprenticeship after his mother passed away. Overall the boy has been a natural working the forges and his been worth twice as much as the costs of taking care of him."

Already Geralt had some ideas on who may have paid for the boy's care. Perhaps Robert had learned of the woman's passing and in turn Gendry's orphaned state. Maybe the boy had drawn guilt from the man and in turn led to him trying to discretely support Gendry. "Interesting…still do you mind if I talk to him for a moment? Just short questions."

Mott sighed, seeming tense on the subject yet nodded. "Fine. But no mentions of the Baratheons or Kings!" He warned before leading Geralt out of his study and back outside. Davos seemed to have remained by Gendry's work station, casually chatting with the teenager who had gotten the blade forged and was now getting the blade wrapped up in insulating cloth for the annealing process. As the two neared Davos could just be overheard.

"Very nice. I can see why Master Mott praises you." Davos complimented, making a small smile cross the boy's face.

"Thank you my lord. I am hoping I'll be able to start my own forge…" His gaze drifted to a bull shaped helm. "I have the artistic talent Master Mott says yet just need to prefer the forging process." When he noticed Geralt and his master nearing, he'd quickly focus back on his work, getting the blade wrapped up and then laid out.

Davos noticed too, giving a small smile. "Ah I didn't bother the boy much sir. He was just finished up."

"No worries both of you." Mott assured them. "Good work though Gendry. We'll sharpen and hardening the blade tomorrow." Looking to Geralt, he'd continue to speak. "However Geralt here wishes to speak with you. Has a few questions to ask."

The boy looked to Geralt, a nervous hint showing when he saw those yellow cat eyes and the scarred face. "I…Of course sir."

Mott nodded before turning to leave, Davos following along. "I'll wait in the shop for you Geralt." Soon the trade and smith were beginning a friendly chat, leaving the Witcher with the young smith.

Geralt strolled into the workshop, glancing over a few tools and armor still needing to be finished. "So you've been living here for a while?"

Gendry nodded. "For over half my life when mother died…so…back when I was six."

The boy looked a few years older considering, yet no doubt the hard work had bulked him up more than most. "Never knew your father."

Gendry shrugged. "Mother never said much about him. Claimed he was a famous warrior from the Rebellion. Ages ago yet…remember how she looked. Sad, angry yet longing."

Geralt was silently for a moment, wondering just how tough life must have been for the woman. "Never wanted to find out about him?"

"No." Gendry muttered, glancing away a bit. "Sorry sir Geralt just…I'd rather not talk of it."

"Fair enough. Sorry to pry on it."

Gendry nodded, seeming to relax now. "Anything else?"

"Yes. A few month back did a nobleman come in for a visit? Someone who personally asked to speak to you."

A hint of curiosity showed in the boy's eyes. "Yes. He was asking pretty much the same questions as you. Why does that matter."

"It's private. Sorry…"

"Ah of course. Not a matter for an apprentice to know." The boy muttered.

"Heh from what I can tell you have the makings of a master about you." Geralt remarked. "Trust me, don't worry yourself about things. Focus on your work and own ambitions."

The simple yet inspiring words had Gendry nod. "A fair point…I'll keep that in mind ser."

"Then take care Gendry." He'd turn to leave, the boy having a thoughtful look on his face before he'd focus on cleaning up the workshop for the day.

…

Geralt said goodbye to Mott before he and Davos left his shop. "Well I can say that was an interesting visit. Another tale to tell my sons back home." The trader chuckled. "Mott mentioned you'll be at the tourney coming soon. Maybe I'll pay and visit, bet a bit on you since he seemed confident in ya."

"Heh now you're sounding like Tyrion. Still I wouldn't mind another friend in the stands."

The two soon reached the Great Sept plaza, ready to go their separate ways now. "Well, time I go back to my ship. Have a few more shipments to get loaded up before heading to Dragonstone then back again for all that leather." He remarked.

"Honest work I say. You take care Davos."

"As do you Geralt. Farewell."

Shaking hands, Davos turned to head down the street leading to the Fishmonger Plaza and for the Blackwater Harbor. Geralt moved to the northeast for the Red Keep, having no trouble along the way or getting inside the hold. When he reached his room though there was a notice on his door.

Geralt, could you please come to the west balcony hall midday tomorrow? I'd like you to meet my new dancing teacher Syrio. He says he knows you and wants you to see the Water Dance.

Arya

"Huh…dancing teacher?" It took a moment to realize what she meant, making him chuckle as he'd take the note off his door. Heading into his room, he'd toss the notice into the fireplace to burn it up before packing away his steel sword and leather clothing, changing into light sleep clothing for the night. "Guess I should check up. Did promise to train her."

…