19 2/2

"Relax Witcher. I'm not some assassin if that is what worries you." The smooth voice of Varys reassured as the chubby spy master slipped out of the shadows. Geralt had to admit the man was very sneaky despite his appearance. It made sense why he had the nickname the Spider.

"Habit. Blame it on bad past experience." Geralt muttered back.

"Interested. You'll have to share the details on that matter."

"Doubtful."

The blunt answer didn't make the spymaster's smile falter as he'd step more into the light. "You've been quite busy today. I know you spent plenty of time exploring our fair city yet did pay quite the visit to one of Littlefinger's…establishments."

"Personal business."

"Pleasure or…"

"Personal." Geralt repeated, a more cold annoyed tone to his voice.

"Touchy now. No need to be defensive Witcher, I know you were there seeking Lord Baelish help. He is a resourceful man, yet not one you should be quick to trust." Varys said with a small sigh.

"And I'm to believe you're more trusting?"

"Simply yes. My interests are far less self-serving then Petyr. I care simply of the stability of Kingdoms and the wellbeing of the people."

Geralt was silent for a moment. "You'll have to excuse me if I'm doubtful on that claim. I've met a dozen men who've said the same thing."

"Which is one reason why I see you worth my time." Varys stepped closer, a quite serious look in his eyes. "I don't know what you are hiding yet I know very well that wherever you came from is either far beyond anyone's scope or you've proven to be a capable liar. Either way you're an outsider with a wide and unique set of skills yet a seemingly lack of interest towards self-gain."

"So what does that mean to you Varys?"

"It means you're trustworthy for the moment with me. I can say I've never seen anyone bold enough to refuse the King like you did yesterday. The man seemed torn between anger and respect for such an act." He'd pause, waving one hand for a moment. "That aside I know what you're seeking. Answers to young Stark's fall and the mysterious death of the late Jon Arryn."

"Lord Arryn's passing is more of Lord Stark's concern."

"Yet in the end it is the reason why we're all here isn't it? Think over that Geralt…"

Indeed Geralt was realizing that Varys had a point. Someone must have set up the last Hand's death considering his failing health was sudden and passing quick. In turn that lead to Ned's offer to become the new Hand and in turn the events of Bran's fall. While the fall he couldn't find a logical link to it all, the assassination attempt did to a degree. Was it to remove a distraction or to be a threat and warning?

"Do you believe the Lannister's are behind this?" Geralt said in a hush tone.

Varys moved closer, his sharp eyes glancing about to ensure they weren't being watched. "I have suspicions yet none that I wish to confirm. I work on certainties and the Lannister's do well to keep their secrets close."

"So then what's prevents you from finding out yourself?"

"Oh I could…yet they'd find a way to trace back to me. Yet you can work more independently without fear. After all if the Hound doesn't fear you, then what can?"

Geralt didn't answer, so Varys continued to speak. "My suggestion is that you trace back to Arryn's work. Learn what he was doing in the last months of his life. That is the best advice I can give safely." The chubby man moved back to his dark hallway. "I'd recommend you look to Lord Stark. If anything hasn't shared everything he knows." With those final words the man slipped away, sandaled feet patting across the floor until they faded.

For a moment Geralt stood there, giving a sigh as he'd turn down another hallway and for his room. "Spymasters…" He cursed lowly. Yet he couldn't deny the man had given worthwhile clues to him. While mysterious, he could tell Varys meant what he said in wanting to help the common people of the Kingdom. Why was no doubt a personal matter, yet he felt it be connected to the strange man's past. He'd have to learn the full story in time.

Unlocking the door to his room, he'd first quickly check the chest to ensure his sword, armor and supplies were safe. With everything accounted for he'd change into fresh clothes for the night and set his steel blade close to the bedside. It wasn't hard for the Witcher to drift to sleep, mind and body resting yet senses on guard for any lurking surprises which, thankful, did not come tonight.

…

The next few days were a bit of a standstill for the investigation so far. The issue was that everyone was constantly working and moving about be it through the massive Keep or into the vast city. Tyrion was always off, no doubt chatting with the visiting nobility that was arriving every day. Eddard was often in meetings or locked away in his private tower, making it hard to get a moment of his time. If anything he felt Ned was doing his own part in finding clues, while keeping a low profile by following his duties as the King's Hand.

In the meanwhile Geralt would return to Mott every day, bringing along his silver sword, Witcher armor and the collection of exotic materials. The master smith spend ages examining everything that the Witcher brought with him, showing a quite studious nature in the man along with his attention to detail.

"This silver blade is a work of art!" He praised as he finished examining the blade much like he had done with the steel one. "The hilt is a master piece with the wolf heads. If anything this seems like a weapon fitting of the Starks. I'm curious, does the more ornate style have any reason to it."

"More symbolic really yet the notes say they can affect certain creatures, so of a warding. Can't say it's worked though." Geralt answered back.

"Either way this weapon is impressive. Shame the silver does make the sword less effective against armor and metal weapons. The weapon be worn out quickly if used in such a way." The man's attention shifted onto Geralt's armor, a mix of fine studded leather and dark iron chain pieces. "Now this armor is quite impressive. Leather work isn't a craft I work often with yet the material is far tougher. It's also light and flexible, showing the balance of chainmail and leather is evenly balanced."

"The leather is from the monsters I've slain. When the stuff is properly treated it can easily stop common blades although still leaves one bruised." Geralt explained.

"Fascinating. A shame you have no samples left." Mott muttered. "Yet this armor isn't going to protect you that well against the quality weapons the knights will use in the tournament. I understand you prefer light armor for the mobility, relying on dodging about, yet in a melee you won't be able to avoid every attack coming from all sides."

Geralt had to admit the master smith had a point. His armor was good yet it was designed more to fight monsters who could easily rip plate armor apart, requiring tough yet lighter armor for avoiding such strong and quick attacks. "I take you have some ideas in mind?"

The smith nodded. "Your armor can be reinforced with light plating in key spots that shouldn't hamper your movement too much or limit your flexibility. I think I'll work on some designs and you can decide what is worth adding to the overall armor."

"Sounds like a plan." Geralt collected all his gear into his pack, leaving behind the master smith's payment of meteorite ore and dark iron. Already the man had a pleased grin on his face, considering the materials were a worth a fortune no doubt and create quite priceless weapons or armor.

"If you wished it I'd make a whole armory of gear for you with just these supplies as payment. I promise all my work will beyond perfection."

Geralt smirked at the man's boast yet he couldn't help but believe it to a degree. "Take care Mott. I'll check in next week." Leaving the lavish smithy, Geralt would take the long walk back to the Red Keep, hoping today he'd be able to question Tyrion about the dagger he supposedly won or with Ned about looking into what Jon Arryn was doing in the last months of his life. There was no incidents on the walk there or getting inside the keep.

Heading through the living quarters, he'd notice Sansa scrolling along the hallway, seeming to be heading for the gardens. He hadn't talk to her ever since the incident at the Inn, making him worry how the girl felt after her dire wolf was killed. She'd move on ahead, while he'd hurry to his room, packing and locking his gear back inside the chest.

Following the hallway and down a set of stairs, Geralt could just see Sansa about to enter the pathways of the lush gardens. "Sansa, mind if I speak with you?" He spoke up to get her attention.

The girl at first seemed startled, perhaps not expecting someone to speak up to her while she was deep in her thoughts. See the Witcher she did calm slightly, yet her hands grasped together nervously. "I…of course Geralt." She said hesitantly before letting him near her. They'd begin to walk down the trail, the girl glancing away slightly to look at the well trim hedges blooming with flowers.

"So how has the Red Keep been so far?" He asked after a long moment of silence.

"The Keep is lovely, almost like the castles you hear in the old tales or of Toussaint that you have shared." She said, her tone sounding more cheerful. "My room has such a wonderful view and the chambers I do my studies make Winterfell's seem plain in compare." However a small annoyed look hinted her face. "That is when Arya isn't be bothersome. She rarely stays put and has been rude ever since the Inn." The mention of the place had her take a deep breath, yet she calmed herself quickly.

"I understand how troubling it was losing Lady." Geralt spoke calmly to her. "She didn't deserve it."

"If Arya hadn't…been playing around or kept her wolf in check…it wouldn't have happened."

"You can't blame your sister over what happened." He quickly answered back. "Do you forget how the Prince swung at her? If the dire wolf hadn't mauled her…" However he stopped himself, realizing what he was suggesting.

Sansa gulped worrying considering the Witcher's tone, which had been cold and quite threatening for a moment. "Joffrey's…complicated. He's not use to being around other people." She explained. "After what happened...he came to apologize, pleading that he didn't want Lady hurt." The girl sighed, seeming emotional on the matter. "He just needs someone at his side. Someone like me."

Geralt was very much baffled with what the girl was saying. Either she was deluding herself or she was that blind to the prince's troubling manners. It only took one conversation with the boy back in Winterfell to know he was a controlling sadist in the making. "You shouldn't be so quick to put such faith into him. You two maybe planned to be wed, yet it's not something to be so eager for."

"How would you know? What would someone like you understand about love!?" Sansa snapped out suddenly, although even seemed unsure with such an accusation.

The mention did make him think of home and Yennifer, wondering if she was worrying about him or planning on punishing him for his reckless choice to chase Ciri. He thought made him smile, which Sansa noticed, making her angered expression fade to look of embarrassment. "You're young Sansa. There is much to see and enjoy in life then just rushing off to marry who you believe to be your noble prince." He answered back. "Arya understands that…and something you too should try to understand."

The girl was silent, seeming to have a conflicting feelings from the way she shifted and glanced away. "I should go now Geralt. I'm not here for just a stroll…" She'd turn down one of the side trails. "Queen Cersei wishes to see me and…I can't keep her waiting." Hurrying along, she didn't give the Witcher a chance to speak up or even say goodbye.

Sighing, he'd turn back to return to the main keep. Already he had a bad feeling about Sansa, fearing she was being lulled towards the Lannister's influence, mainly through the queen and the prince. He had hoped the girl be more open minded yet she seemed too lost in her naivety or fearful of the truth. He just hoped this didn't become a danger one day.

…

It had now been a nearly a week since arriving at King's Landing and so far Geralt's investigation was at a standstill. Everything hinged on Catelyn and the assassin's dagger in her possession. Since once again Tyrion and Ned were seemingly busy during the late morning, the Witcher decided it was time deeper tour into the Flea Bottom slums. He had checked the outskirts of the district yet felt it was time to see the rough side of the capital. Of course he made sure to be carrying his steel sword for this little trip.

The route to Flea Bottom was along a long road that stretched between the Grand Sept square and to the Iron Gate to the far north. As he went further along the eastern side of the Dragon Pit hill, the more worn and packed the buildings became. What really stood out though was the smell. He was use to the dirty scents of the city and indeed even the Red Keep had some foul air drift its way. Yet within Flea Bottom is was an assult on his very honed senses.

"Ugh…place be a paradise for a zegul…" He gagged as he'd stroll through the packed street, slipping through the traveling crowds of lowly peasants. A few gazes did look to him, people snickering at how he seemed a bit stunned by the foul smells, although he was quickly getting used to it all. There were so many things happening all at once, making it hard for even him to keep track although he made sure to have one hand close to his coin purse as trio of kids got bit too close at times and even gave a testing tug at the pouch.

"Yet…classic slum life." He muttered as the kids hurried by again, no doubt to make another attempt at snagging his gold. This time though he had one hand reach out stopping the three who nearly tumbled into each other. "Should cut that out."

One of the kids gave a small innocent grin. "Do what sire? We're just playing?" The other two nodded in agreement, giving their own cute smiles back.

The Witcher shrugged as he'd reach into the pouch, pulling out a gold dragon which the trio stared at wide eyed. He bet this was their first look such a coin in their very young lives. "I'm looking for the biggest market here. Guide me there and answer my questions and I'll make it two."

"The Leather Mill! The Leather Mill!" The three quickly chanted out, jumping eagerly about. "They sell all the leathers used in the city. Even the higher merchants come there to buy!" One kid remarked. "Sell best Bowl of Brown too! Hey…how much do you think we can buy with a gold dragon?" Already the three were chattering, nearly forgetting about Geralt.

"Kids…focus." He muttered, holding the coin up. "Can you show me the way then?"

The three nodded and hurried around him, nudging and tugging the Witcher along the alleys until he followed along. "Bet we could buy a couple goats with one coin!" One kid giggled. "Nah, not if da wastes it on the ale!" Another argued while the third focused on Geralt, seeming now to notice his cat eyes. "How you get cat eyes? My sis always says she wanted those." The boy suddenly got a teasing poke to the side by the girl. "Did not! Besides he got wolf eyes if you ask me."

The two arguing was amusing yet he'd speak up. "More like cat eyes. Trust me…was painful to get them."

"Aw…be nice to have." The girl whined before her brother spoke up. "So what questions you got sire? I mean…we know a lot about Flea Bottom."

Geralt thought for a moment. "Any famous types around? Well liked and reputable people."

"Ah! The Onion Knight!" One boy quickly answered. "He's a rich man! One of them uuhhh…sailor men? He has a big boat and trades here all the time."

"Onion Knight? Very odd title for a merchant."

"Well he got it for sneaking food during the war. Not sure where or for who…but they made him a knight!" The boy explained.

A short while walking and the group soon entered the largest square the massive slum had to offer. Stands were set all around were people were selling meats, vegetables, tools and leather. Geralt strolled around while the kids hurried about, greeting people and checking out items, no doubt debating on what they'd buy. When he thought about it, he realized that they wouldn't have an easy way of getting change for one gold dragon, much less two.

"Should have brought smaller coins." He muttered before one of the kids tugged at his arm.

"There he is! The knight!" The boy pointed out.

At one of the larger stands there was a man dressed in fine dark and brown leather clothes, fitting garb for a higher ranked sailor, perhaps a captain. The man seemed to be gentlemen with balding yet well-kept gray hair and a trimmed full beard. Whenever the man raised his left gloved hand up, Geralt noticed how the fingers of it were soften as the first knucles on all but his thumb were missing.

"I need twenty crates of harden leather within the month good sir. It's a lot, but you know I'll be paying the full price for it all." The man said, his tone of voice quite formal and well-spoken.

"I know you're gold is good Davos but that's just such a massive order. My tannery will be hard pressed to meet the demand." The merchant muttered. "Why not get the rest of it ordered from the others?"

"Because your quality is the best. I'll give you an extra week to get the order finished since I'll be moving in and out of port doing other shipments."

The merchant thought for a moment and nodded. "Very well. That sounds doable to me." The two men shook hands before Davos got quite the sizable coin pouch out to pay the upfront costs before turning about, nearly running into the Witcher.

"Ah excuse me!" He quickly apologize before getting a good look of the Witcher, noticing his white hair and yellow cat eyes, making him stare for a moment. "I umm…are your eyes alright sir?"

"Just fine. Don't worry I get that reaction a lot." Geralt casually answered back. "So I take you're the uh…Onion Knight I've heard about." By this point the kids nearby hurried to Davos, giggling as they hurried around the old man.

"Ah I take these rascals told you about my amusing title." He'd give a playfully ruffle to one boy's hair, making the boy duck away. "Aye that be me. Really the knight title is something I think casually off. Here I'm simply an old resident of Flea Bottom who simply knows to pay respects to his home."

"So you're common born who's been knighted. Quite impressive. Only know a few who got such the honor…me being one such."

"Heh, guess we can relate on that matter." Davos chuckled before the kids hurried to Geralt.

"So can we have our gold dragons now?" The girl said with a small grin.

Geralt glanced to the trader who'd quickly realize the Witcher's little problem. "He owes you coin doesn't he? Yes a gold dragon be a fortune yet if you lose it…well…may as not have one to begin with." Opening his coin pouch though he'd take out a bunch of silver coins with a moon on it. "Yet I can give you that much in silver. You buy all the things you want without worry of losing that one coin."

The kids muttered, seeming to debate on the matter before nodding in agreement. Davos grinned before getting a smaller pouch and the sixty silver filled into it. The kids took the pouch, looking in to see their small fortune with joyful looks on their face.

"Don't spend it all. Get your families a real meal, good tools or a healthy animal." Geralt advised as he'd hand Davos the gold coins in exchange.

"Yes White Wolf!" The kids answered back before hurrying away, no doubt to the nearest sweets stand.

Davos sighed as he glanced back at Geralt. "Sort of a bad choice dealing with gold in these parts. Silvers and coppers are more reasonable."

"Blame it on the mirror merchant I dealt with." The Witcher muttered. "Only traded in gold dragons.

"Seven…must be quite a rich and famed man to deal in such a way."

"You have no idea." The two strolled through the market, continuing their chat. "Anyway, guess some proper introduction is needed. Geralt of Rivia, Witcher and advisor to Lord Eddard Stark."

"Davos Seaworth. Trader and knight in service to Lord Stannis Baratheon who is currently the Master of Ships. You could say I'm his right hand man when it comes to the navy."

"I take he is having you run some major deliveries considering your order."

"Aye. Takes a lot to make a warship. We've been rebuilding ever since the Rebellion and only been expanding since King Robert has been leading. Man may prefer battle out on the field yet understands the need for a good defense at sea."

"Especially with the threat of horse raiders ready to charge over it." Geralt jested.

"So you heard those rumors. I can say I'm just as doubtful. Dothraki are a vast and fear horde, yet the sea is their greatest fear above all else." Davos remarked. "So you say you serve Lord Stark? Curious…what brings you to Flea Bottom then?"

"An investigation. I can't say much more yet it's a personal matter for Lord Stark."

"Interesting." The man muttered as they'd stop at one of the stalls, letting Davos eye over some of the tools laid out. "I can say I know every honest merchant and craftsman in these slums along with a good deal of more…shady types from the old days."

"From the smuggling days I take?"

"Not a favored piece of history…yet one I'm honest about." He'd raise his left hand, showing the shortened fingers. "Stannis made sure that I paid for those crimes. I know you no doubt see it cruel, yet the man is honest and took no joy in enforcing the laws of the land."

"Back home the last king simply strung up smugglers."

"Heh then guess I count myself grateful. Shorten a few fingers and in return a rose to nobility."

"Anyway do you think you can share some of these shadow connections?"

"I could if given the time." He'd think for a moment. "They have soup kitchens all around Flea Bottom, yet a few are run by more rough types. Could set up a meet in a day or so."

Yet as Davos spoke Geralt noticed two odd individuals among the crowds of commoners. For a moment he thought he just mistaken, yet there was no one else who had that strange hair tied under the chin style.

"Rodrik?" Geralt muttered as he watched the Master-At-Arms glance about before guiding a dark cloaked woman through the crowd.

"Who?" Davos said curiously as he glanced back for a moment, yet when he looked to Geralt the Witcher was gone. The trader glanced about quickly before seeing the white hair man hurrying through the crowd.

Already Rodrik and the cloaked Catelyn were heading for a side alley westward. It seemed to two were taking a more discreet route through the city with less of a guard presence. How they had slipped by the guards at the gate is what confused him though. He'd have to question them on that matter later on. The two were quick in trying to slip away through the maze of alleys, maybe knowing they were being followed or just trying to take the most confusing route possible.

He'd hear their footsteps suddenly turn into a run, making him hurry after and around the last corner they had made. Suddenly he was face to face with a dirty middle aged man who had a surprised look on his face as he stared into those cat like eyes.

Oi!? What the hell are you?!" He started before a large fellows lurking off to the side stepped into view. "What's that?"

"Man got cat eyes! No wonder those our two were in a hurry." The slim man answered back before Geralt moved to get around him. "Hey hey hey! This is OUR alley. If you be passing you pay the toll."

"No. Move aside." Geralt coldly stated.

The man must have been daft as he'd smirk despite Geralt's dead serious stare. "Really? You don't understand you-" He'd move to draw for a dagger at his belt yet Geralt didn't even give him a chance. Before the 'toll man' could react the Witcher grasped him by the back of the head and slammed him face first against the nearby wall. There was the crunch of a nose being broken and a quite thick splatter of blood left where the man's face had met hard stone. The fat man standing nearby was gawking, looking down at his friend who was out cold with his nose badly broken and oozing blood.

"F-Fred…you fucker why you-" The man stammered before suddenly having the Witcher's hand wave before his face.

"You're friend tripped. He need that nose fixed." Geralt said, the Axii sign making the other thug give a dazed look as the spell influenced his weak mind.

"Right. Fred tripped…badly." He repeated, giving the Witcher the chance to move along. His pace quickened as he tried to catch up with Catelyn and Rodrik, not letting anyone or anything slow him. After a moment, he'd head rattling of a door which made him slow his pace to peak around the corner. Rodrik was at a door which seemed to lead farther westward, no doubt this being a checkpoint used in case of invasion or siege.

"Its stuck fast my lady. Perhaps we should double back and…" Rodrik started.

"Rather not risk hurrying by those ruffians." Catelyn said in a hush voice.

"I can handle them easily." The master-at-arm's patted the pomel of his sheathed sword, yet Catelyn shook her head.

"No fighting or distractions. We have to-" However at this point she'd just hear Geralt step closer to him. Rodrik glanced up, a look of surprise showing on his face when he recognized him. Yet before he could say anything Catelyn was quick to lash out suddenly.

It was a clumsy and blind attack, yet the gleam of Valyian steel shined before him as the woman slashed that fine dagger at him. Yet he'd simply grab her wrist, stopping her before the weapon even got close to him. A shocked gasp escaped from the woman before she glanced right at his face, fear showing in her eyes for a moment before she took realized who it was.

"G-Geralt?" She remarked, the calm cold look he gave drawing worry from him.

"Lady Stark." He muttered before his hand shifted as he'd easily pull the dagger from her loose grasp, considering her hands were quite bandaged from the dagger he now held. For a moment he examined the curved dagger curiously before glancing back at her. "A bit unwise to lash out like that."

"I…you took me by surprise. Besides I didn't expect you to…"

"Be here? Indeed this is quite the chance encounter." He interrupted. "Which is why you will be coming with me now."

"That won't be needed Geralt I have-"

"It wasn't a request Lady Stark but an order. You have a lot of explaining to do, both to me and your husband." He'd calmly state as he sheathed the dagger, his calm yet serious glaze locking with her's as she seemed to desperately find the right words to argue back.

For a moment Geralt couldn't help but feel a bit of pride and amusement at having the noblewoman for once at a loss for words.

…

Notice: Quite a dense chapter yet hopefully one everyone will enjoy! Intrigue builds and everyones most favored battles draw near! Keeping up the semi-weekly release pace so far. Let's hope life doesn't get any more complex for the next few months.