17 Chapter 14: S1-E13: City of Kings - Part 1

Chapter 13: City of King's Part 1

Forward: You may notice that King's Landing and the Iron Throne are described differently then what you see in the show. I found the book descriptions and certain art more fitting, so decided to reference those instead.

It was three days since Geralt had encountered Gaunter at the Crossroads Inn, having left along with the royal caravan heading southward to King's Landing. During this time, he kept mostly to himself, only chatting up with Tyrion or Bronn during the ride. At the least the road here was well kept and mostly downhill at times. Overall his time alone let him think on Gaunter's words and advice. Even though he distrusted the demon, he knew O'Dimm had little to gain by lying or trying to hinder him in saving Ciri. Amusing the merchant seemed to care about the Witcher's happiness, maybe just for his amusement or a show of good faith.

"Still wish I hadn't met him…" He muttered as he'd guide Roach further along, moving past the heavy carriage that the royal family had. The oversized and heavy vehicle was the main reason why traveling was slow, considering it was more of a small house on wheels. From what Ned told him, the axel and wheels broke often, making Robert so mad he threatened to burn the thing down.

Chuckling at the image, he'd hear someone riding up behind him, making him glance back to see that it was Eddard. The man looked tired still yet the dark rings had faded more since last time they had talked. "We should be seeing the capital soon enough." Ned muttered as he rode alongside Geralt.

"When was the last you visited?"

"During the end of the Rebellion and a bit afterwards. City was a mess after being sacked…yet twenty years should have given enough time for it to be rebuilt."

"From what Tryion told me it should be bigger than most cities from back home. Even rival City of Golden Towers within the Nilfgaard Empire."

"Interesting name for a city. You'll have to tell me more later on."

Geralt nodded as they rode on, being silent as the distant sounds of the sea could be heard. Soon they'd reach a turn in the road which had a grand view, one that had Geralt gawk a bit. Set in a large bay was King's Landing, a massive city of tanned builds spread out for miles across the area. There were three large structures that got his interest, each set on top of a large hill set in a triangle like position. The southern hill had massive chapel which he guessed was the Great Sept of Baelor. Off at the far eastern hill was a grand palace, the Red Keep. The northern hill had a broken domed ruin which he heard was the Dragonpit, a coliseum that held the lesser dragons from more recent Targaryen dynasties.

"Is quite the sight indeed." Ned remarked, getting Geralt's attention.

"Indeed. Wish Dandelion was here, if he saw what this country had to offer, he'd be writing a whole new guide."

The group rode down around the massive city walls before approaching the western gate. It seemed the group's arrival was expected considering the lineup of city guards and the crowding commoners at the open city gates. It was quite the entrance considering the stone faces that surrounding the massive gateway, depicting the seven aspects of Faith. As the caravan began to file through the gate, there be cheering from the crowds, seeming eager for their King's return. Robert though wasn't seen though, no doubt resting inside the giant royal carriage.

"Quite the hero's welcome." Geralt muttered to Eddard as they rode along, the royal guards helping the city watch kept the people in line.

"Robert is quite the popular ruler."

At least when Jon Arryn was the Hand. He managed the Kingdom's duties well from what I know, so it's going to be hard to match up."

Eddard sighed and nodded. "Aye…it is going to be."

Plenty of eyes were quickly focus on the two, no doubt people recognizing Lord Eddard yet seeming curious about Geralt. He'd catch hushed voices remarking about him as they mentioned his white hair and pale skin, two swords on his back along with the many scars he had. No doubt rumors and gossip would spread, that is unless such talk has already creeped down from the north already. The convoy soon passed through the city gate and began its trek along the main street. From what Geralt could tell they were riding through a crafters district, considering the mix of workshops and stores set around the streets. They'd pass through a few squares yet the one set before the Great Sept was the largest, having the biggest crowd waiting for them. Thankfully the route westward was clear as the group soon escaped the cheering crowds as they'd near the Red Keep.

Geralt had visited plenty of palaces and castles back home, yet the Red Keep was quite the impressive structure. While not as flashy as the castle of Beauclair in Toussaint yet it was more lavish them most Nortern Realm keeps. One thing he rated it highly on was its very defendable position, considering the hill it was built on made approaching it by land quite limited along with the high red walls, battlements and towers added layers of defense. They'd soon arrive at the main court yard where the keep servants and courtiers were awaiting to help the caravan unpack.

Ned slowed his horse as a page handled the mount, giving him a chance to dismount. Geralt did the same, making sure to grab the wrapped axe off his pack before Roach was guided off to the stables. Not long, a courtier would hurry up to the two, a well-kept young man who bowed and greeted them. "Welcome Lord Stark. Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the Small Council. The honor of your presence is requested."

To the Witcher, it seemed odd for such a meeting to happen just at their arrival, yet no doubt the council members wished to do their duties after the months without the Hand or King. Ned didn't seemed trouble with the request as he'd nod and glance back to the wagon that was carrying Sansa and Arya along with their caretaker. "Get the girls settled in. I'll be back in time for supper." He'd then last to one of his Northrern guards, one who Geralt recognized as Jory, Winterfell's guard captain. He hadn't had much time to chat with the man before yet heard he was skilled and loyal to the family. "Jory, you go with them."

The captain nodded. "Yes my lord."

Ned's attention focused back on the courtier, seeming ready to be led inside the keep. "If you'd…like to change into something appropriate…" The young man asked, glancing over the lord's leather traveling clothes which were a bit dirtied from the ride here.

Eddard just gave a small glare, making the man give a small gulp and nod. "Very well my lord. This way." The courtier turned to lead the way into the Keep, Ned following along while tugging off his leather gloves. Geralt followed behind them, entering into the main hall, yet they'd stop before the great doors of the throne room. "Umm…may I ask your companion to wait outside?" The courtier politely asked.

"Geralt here is an advisor to me and has an important matter to share personally with the council. Don't let the scars or swords worry you, he's trustworthy." Eddard assured the courtier.

The young man sighed and nodded to the guards at the door, who'd push them open for the group. The Witcher guessed the council chambers was set close to the throne room, much like other palaces he had been too. He was curious to at least see the famous Iron Throne, since he heard so many tales about it. The throne room itself was massive in size, yet considering the throne itself, it made sense for the hall to be so large.

"Damn…that is one big throne." He muttered as he gazed at what seemed to be a jutting pile of swords. The throne was a mountain of blades that were fused together and forged into the rough shape of a throne. He heard how the throne was made of a thousand blades surrendered to Aegon the First, who'd then command his dragon Balerion the Black Dread to heat them while a small army of smiths hammed the throne into shape. It was taller than any throne he had seen, towering well over him and Eddard as they neared it. Even the steps up to the seat itself were made of fused swords while the backing of the throne itself fanned out in a fearsome display. One tale he remember said that Aegon had the throne designed in such a way so no king would ever sit comfortable, a reminder of their difficult position as the Kingdom's leader.

"Impressive isn't it?" Ned muttered. "Been twenty years since I last saw it."

"Imposing, yet far from comfortable looking." Geralt remarked back.

"I know. I sat on it once we took the Keep. Makes you realize how difficult reigning from it can be."

The Witcher was curious to know more about Ned's tale, yet focused on the task at hand. They'd move around to a back area of the Throne, a private lavish room where the Small Council met. Sitting around the meeting table were a group of people, who Geralt would regonize from description at least. During the ride he had questioned Tyrion deeply about the current members of the Small Council, wanting to be prepared when it came to dealing with them.

The first member to greet them was a chubby bald man dressed in fine robes. He'd give a small smile to Ned, hands out to shake with the Lord before being greeted. "Lord Varys." Eddard said politely.

"We heard about the trouble on the King's Road. We all prey for Prince Joffrey's full recovery."

"Of course." Eddard muttered, seeming to want to avoid the matter.

Varys, Master of Whispers, the position of spymaster. Geralt had dealt with such types during his time in Vazima, mainly with the foul mouthed Thaler who had served for Tameria. Many people thought such individuals to be rogues in black clothes and wearing cowls, yet that was just a myth. He could tell that Varys had a shifty cunning about him as the man smiled and nodded to Eddard, yet had his sharp eyes shift towards the Witcher. There was a curious surprise in them, yet it was quick to become calculating as he noted Geralt's unique features.

"Geralt of Rivia I presume?" Varys asked as he'd slip his hands into the hanging sleeves of his robes. Eddard meanwhile would move on to greet and chat with the council members.

"Greets Lord Varys. I'm surprised you know who I am. Haven't exactly been active beyond the North."

"It's my duty to know Witcher." The man remarked, again showing his knowledge of Geralt's profession. "When unknown strangers from foreign lands come to our shores, one must be informed after all. I've heard of your accomplishment bested two wildlings raiding parties after all." A hint of surprise showed on the Witcher's face yet Varys kept a calm smile to him. "Don't worry yourself Geralt. We'll have much to discuss very soon."

"Right…of course." Geralt muttered. Already he could tell the man was very good at his job, getting such information from the other side of the continent so quickly. He'd have to be careful with what he said and did around the city.

His attention moved onto the other Council members. Eddard just finished hugged and greeting the youngest member of the council, Renly Baratheon, Robert's youngest brother and the Master of Laws. Geralt could see the resemblance he had to his other brother, yet had a more formal charm with the way he acted.

"You look tired from the road Eddard. I told the others we should have postponed the meeting for tomorrow." Renly remarked with a small chuckle.

"But we have a kingdom to look after." A smooth voice said, belonging to the well-dressed gentleman who stood by his seat. "I hoped to meet you for some time Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me."

Eddard looked to the man, giving a small nod as he'd removed his cloak. "She has Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well."

Petyr chuckled and gave a small shrug. "All too well. I still carry a token of his esteem from navel to collarbone."

"Perhaps you chose the wrong man to duel with."

"Ah but it wasn't the man that I chose my lord, it was Catelyn Tully. A woman worth fighting for which I'm sure you'd agree."

Ned had an odd look in his eyes as the two lords stared down each other, a small feeling of tension already forming between them. From what Geralt knew Petyr Baelish was lord of a minor house set in quite unremarkable region called the Fingers. Despite his low standing, he had risen over the years through his financial skills and courtly cunning, leading to him now being Master of Coin. Just from the hints of his and Eddard's conversation, he had quite the history with the Starks already.

Before the two could say anything more, the old man sitting nearby, dressed in Maester robes and chains would speak up. "I humbly beg your pardon Lord Stark."

"Grand Maester."

The old man gave a small smile back. "How many years has it been? You were a young man last we met."

"Aye and you served another king."

Pycelle glanced away slightly, seeming nervous at the mention. Geralt knew this man had served the role of Grand Maester for forty years now, a quite long time for such a position. He knew the role was a difficult one considering the Grand Maester was expected to be knowledgeable in as many topics as possible, which often led to older individuals taking the seat. Of course often they died in just a few years, which had led to more lax choosing, which in this case Pycelle having been chosen so many decades ago.

A sudden realization would come to the man as he'd suddenly shift to reach into his robes. "Oh how forgetful of me." He'd soon take out a large metal pin shaped as a fist clenching a spike. "This belongs to you now." Eddard took the pin and examined it. "Anyway shouldn't we begin?"

"Aye we will, once King Robert arrives." Ned muttered as he'd attach the pin to his leather vest.

The gathered council gave odd looks to each other, Renly smirking a bit even.

"His grace has many cares. He entrusts many small matters to us." Varys explained.

"No doubt, yet in this case he will be attending." Eddard again repeated before sitting down.

At that point whatever amused looks the council members had shifted to more confused ones. "I don't seem to understand Lord Stark? The King hasn't come to a meeting before and I doubt he will for this." Baelish remarked. "There has yet to be a matter important enough for him to grace us with his presence."

"Yet there is a matter for him to be here. Two in fact. While we wait though I feel I should introduce a friend of mine." Ned gestured to Geralt who had been hanging back, making everyone's gaze shift to him. "I'd like to introduce Geralt of Rivia. He's a traveler from across the Narrow Sea and a respected adviser of mine. He has been helping me deal with troubling matters in the far ends of the North."

At that point, Geralt stepped up to the table and look to all the gathered council members. "Greets to all of you."

"As to you good sir. I must say I've never heard of a Rivia anywhere in Essos." Pycelle murmured.

"Where I come from it's a bit…beyond Essos." Geralt answered back. "Yet that isn't the matter for why I'm here. There is a threat in the North, one that can put the whole northern region of continent at risk."

"Are you meaning the Wildlings?" Renly asked curiously. "Heard plenty of tales about them, yet I question how a group of savages are a risk to us when we have the Wall and Night's Watch to guard us."

"Indeed." A new deep voice remarked, making everyone turn to look to the entrance of the room. Shocked looks showed on the other council members' faces, while Eddard had a small amused smile. There was Robert, dressed in his kingly finery and royal crown, looking the most well-groomed since the Witcher had ever seen him. The stout man looked at the group with a stern glare before moving forward to the empty head seat. "Well…did I come here to be gawked at or to seek your advice?"

"I…Of course your grace." Pycelle quickly remarked. "It is just unexpected to see you visit us."

Renly smirked, lodging back in his seat more. "Indeed. Pleased to see you stepping up brother." His tone was the most informal, yet Robert didn't seem to mind his brother's words.

"I came because Eddard insisted for over a week on the road. Hard to ignore such a request." Robert muttered as he'd sit back into his seat. "And considering you've brought Geralt along…well…I can imagine this is an important issue."

"Indeed it is your majesty." The Witcher answered back as he walked closer to the meeting table. "Lord Stark sent me to look into the strange events happening in the far north along with evaluate the Night's Watch and the Wall. Considering I was attacked by a second raiding party of Wildlings wasn't a good start."

"Eddard was quick to tell me that news." Robert remarked. "I'll admit, a second encounter within just a few months is rare indeed."

"Indeed. I know you're a man who doesn't care for politics and finances. That isn't your specialty. You're a commander and warrior, someone who fully understands the ways of war." Geralt paused for a moment before he'd heft up the wrapped up axe, tugging the wrappings off before dropping it heavily on the table. Pycelle and Baelish flinched from the weapon slamming down, yet the Grand Maester gave a curious look at the weapon.

"I recognize this design. Yes…very few Maesters have ever gotten to see a Thenn weapon in person. Such studies are limited to a few…uhh…outdated tomes." The old man muttered.

"Then you understand that they are a group of Wildlings that shouldn't be underestimated." His gaze focused on Robert once more. "Overall that makes twenty Wildlings that have intruded on your lands. If they had joined together they could have causes some serious damage to more isolated villages and travelers on the road."

"I know how they work Witcher. The tactics of pillaging are a rough yet effective method."

"Which is the reason why they're a risk. I'm met plenty of people who believe the Wall will just keeping the Wildlings back. Well obviously they have found ways to get by and that will be the key to truly invading.

Baelish leaned forward in his seat, giving a questioning look to the Witcher. "Surely you must be exaggerating. The Wildlings can be that united and we have the Night's Watch-"

"The Watch is undermanned Lord Baelish." Ned intrupted before putting down the leather bound folder the Lord Commander had given Geralt. "Check these reports, all done under Lord Commander Mormont's trusted stewards."

The Small Council took turns reading the reports, Varys seeming the more interested as he took his time checking over every detail. Robert was surprisingly focused on the reports as well, although Geralt expected as much from a man so focused on warfare.

"Geralt does seem correct sire." Varys remarked. "Only about a thousand men keep watch between the three remaining keeps. Considering most are untrained petty criminals, makes their standing value even less considering."

Robert remained silent as he'd glance to the papers and then at Geralt. "So you believe the Night's Watch is that weak and the Wall is that venerable?"

"Not saying the Wildlings are just going to march up to the Wall like any other army and siege it. No, I doubt even Seven Kingdoms combined can break through that thing. Yet ever defense has a weakness…and that is the keeps like Castle Black."

At that point realization showed in Robert's gaze. "A sneak attack from behind. Take the keep and let the horde in."

"Exactly. I fear the Wildlings will try such a move. From what the Lord Commander told me they have a new King Beyond the Wall and there something is forcing them southward. They're united and desperate, a bad combination for anyone facing against them."

Baelish again spoke up. "I can see the Lord Commander is requesting for quite the tidy amount of new weapons and supplies. While in normal times it be manageable, the kingdom is currently in debt."

"Right…by how much."

The lord looked at the group, giving a sigh. "The crown is six million in debt. Three million to the Lord Tywin Lannister and the rest to the Iron Bank."

The amount had both Ned and Geralt giving wide eyed looks of shock. The Witcher had seen plenty of kingdoms build up debt, yet never heard of that much. Eddard however seemed to be angry as he'd look at Robert, who was looking away, although in frustration or shame, Geralt didn't know.

"So then…can the treasury accept these requests along with the King's tournament?' Pycelle questioned.

"Not without barrowing from the Lannisters or the Iron Bank." Baelish answered back.

No doubt Eddard wanted to demand and question Robert right there, yet the Northern Lord held his tongue for now. The Witcher felt the two have a heated argument over this news along with other matters once the meeting was over.

"Fine then…what about man power? If we can't fund the Night's Watch then just reinforce it with experienced soldiers and experts." Geralt asked.

Renly nodded in agreement. "True. Knowing the types of men we send up to the Wall, most of which lack any real skills to support the Watch."

"Yes but the question is would honest men really give up their freedoms to serve at the Wall?" Varys questioned.

"I'm not saying they should take the oath and serve, just be temporarily stationed there. As for where these men will come from…"

"The North will contribute if the King allows it." Eddard spoke up, interrupting Geralt. "The bannermen will accept the call to aid the Night's Watch since they know what will happen if the Wildlings do get pass the Wall. I only hope the rest of the Kingdoms will put some effort to the cause as well."

Robert looked at Ned with a calm yet stern glaze. "I respect that choice Lord Stark. You maybe my Hand yet you still rule the North and in turn protecting it. Make sure to send your ravens as soon as possible. Grand Maester Pycelle will also have Ravens sent to the largest Keeps to share this news and request for aid."

"Ah of course sire. I will be sure to have the letters written by tonight and the ravens sent out tomorrow." The old man murmured.

Robert nodded before speaking once more. "However there is another pressing matter…another threat to the Seven Kingdoms that we must discuss."

"Which we have." Ned mutter

"Aye we did…yet I'm here with my council I may as well speak of it now. Besides Varys was the one to inform me of this news during the ride south."

Everyone's attention looked to the chubby man who get a passive expression. "As you all know only two possible survivors of the Targaryen line remain. For years we have thought they had disappeared into hiding or silently killed off. Instead they have revealed themselves."

"Viserys and Daenerys." Geralt muttered, remembering the news Eddard had shared with him days ago. "If I'm correct the brother is only just into his twenties while his sister has just reached womanhood. Yet I take your more worried of who she has married."

The spymaster gave a small smile. "You're well informed sir Geralt." The title had the Witcher's gaze narrow in annoyance yet the chubby man continued. "Indeed. With Daenerys married to Khal Drogo, she now has an army vast enough invade the Seven Kingdoms and try reclaiming the throne."

The other council members muttered to each other, no doubt sharing their thoughts privately. Eddard seemed tense, seeming to know something everyone else didn't.

"So let me get this straight. You're worried of a sixteen year old invading with an army of shirtless horse raiders?" Geralt was focused on Robert, the large man having an intense look in his eyes. "No it's not fear…its revenge isn't it? Even with the thousands dead after the Rebellion you still want to finish what you started."

The whole table was dead silent from what the Witcher just said. Eddard and Renly had a worried look in his eyes, Varys that of surprise, Pycelle seemed to be having a silent panic attack and Baelish showed a hint of amusement. Robert seemed to fume, fists clenched tightly before relaxing. He'd give a grim grin at the Witcher, a single chuckle escaping him.

"Cunning deduction Witcher. You're right…even after all these years I still feel the same hate for the Targaryen's. After all they had done…" The man's gaze looked to Eddard for moment before back at Geralt. "…They all deserve to die for the suffering they brought. We got lax towards the end, let those two slip by and now decades later they are planning to return in vengeance."

At that point Renly spoke up. "And I agree of the threat they pose. However we have to be realistic. We don't know if this Khal Drogo will even agree to cross the Narrow Sea. In fact they'd need a massive fleet just to transport all those Dothraki and their horses." Sighing, the young noble thought for a moment. "I wish Stannis wasn't away right now. He'd understand the complications such a fleet would be and how to counter it."

"Yet there is a simple solution to this all. Target and eliminate the Targaryens." Varys calmly stated.

"You mean assassinate." Geralt muttered.

"It is the simplest solution. Two deaths to save thousands on both sides."

"And the solution I wish to follow." Robert sternly remarked. "Until both are dead the Seven Kingdoms will always have a looming threat. I may happen during my reign or that of Joffrey's…either way it will come unless dealt with."

"Then this is a matter I'd rather not hear any more." Geralt muttered as he'd turn for the door. "At the least I'm glad you listened and agreed about the trouble in the North."

"Hold it Witcher." Geralt stopped at the doorway out, glancing back at Robert who had spoken to him. "There is one aspect that you could help with. I know what you're capable of and that is reason enough to request this of you."

"Robert don't-" Eddard sharply remarked yet the King continued to speak.

"I am willing to pay for your services Witcher. You claim you kill monsters…well…the Targaryens are the worst of them all. I'll give you all the resources you need to find your daughter of yours. Lordship even if you kill them for the good of the people."

The Witcher was dead silent as he'd stare back at Robert, his gaze cold and angered hearing the man's request. "No."

"That quick to refuse?"

"You could offer me the Iron Throne and I'd still say no." The room was silent, a great tension filling the air. "I wish you good fortune on your choices your majesty. The road has been tiring for me…so excuse me." With that he'd leave the council chmaber, Robert giving a low growl at Geralt's manners toward him, making the Witcher wonder if he was going to demand him arrested for speaking out like that. Eddard gave a sigh, seeming to have expected Geralt to speak out harshly to the King, yet also having knowing Robert would make such a request as well.

…

Heading back into the throne room, Geralt slowed his pace when he noticed Jaime sitting at the steps of the Iron Throne. The dashing blond hair man was dressed in the golden armor and of the King's Guard, no doubt following his usual duties now that he was back at the Red Keep. He'd look to Geralt, giving a small smile which the Witcher didn't return.

"Judging from your look the Small Council had quite the successful meeting." Jaime remarked sarcastically.

"Not in the mood for jokes." The Witcher sternly stated.

"Heh, seems King Robert has angered you once again. Let me guess, it was the idea to hire you as an assassin for the Targaryens."

For a moment Geralt was silent, wondering how the knight knew, then remembered the man no doubt overheard plenty of things the King said while guarded him. "Maybe. What does it matter to you?"

"Are you that forgetful about history? You seem to forget my most…famous accomplishment"

Again Geralt thought, quickly realizing what Jaime meant. "Right…Kingslayer." Slowly his gaze looked around the throne room as he wondered what happened so many years ago. "So I have to wonder, what was the Mad King really like? Was it that insane or was that just slander made up during the Rebellion?"

Jaime shifted to stand, one hand casually resting on the pommel of his sword as he'd look at the Witcher. "As you have said…what does it matter?"

"I'm curious to know the truth. I've dealt with my share of kings both great, foolish and mad, so maybe you'd like to hear the opinion of an outsider for once."

For a moment Jaime was quiet, gauntleted fingers tapping on the pommel of his sword. "Fair enough. I'll tell you a tale and you tell me one of your own." Pacing around to the towering Iron Throne, he'd continue to speak. "Aerys Targayren the Second was indeed as mad as the tales say. Wasn't like that at first when Aerys took the Throne. Replaced the older members of the court with fresh young nobles and lords, all part of building a strong new era of prosperity and peace." Smirking, he'd glance back at Geralt. "My father served as his Hand at an early age and in turn that led to my family's rise to power after its rather lowly position under grandfather."

"Right…care to skip that part?"

Sighing, the blond knight shrugged. "Overall Aerys started to show the classic signs of Targaryen madness. Paranoia, insane rambles, violent bursts and a general lack of care for his appearance."

"No doubt a side effect from generations of inbreeding."

"Indeed. Point is he became quite obsessed with fire. This whole hall had pyres set up to burn his 'enemies'. Didn't matter who, if someone so much as looked at him funny he'd demand them burned."

Oddly that statement reminded Geralt of someone, although he kept silent still.

"Overall I was young and aspiring knight of the King's Guard despite all the chaos. I was reminded that my duty wasn't to judge the king yet guard him. In the end that became harder to follow. In the end you know the rest, father lies to enter and sack the city while I end the sad King's life before he could give any more mad orders."

"And that's that?"

"Well…did decide to take a sit on the Throne." Jaime nodded to the spikey seat. "I can say…not at all comfortable. Lord Stark was far from pleased finding me resting on it, even though he took seat on it afterwards."

"He has mentioned that now that I think back. Kept claiming that breaking your oath was inexcusable."

"Heh and you agree with him?" Jaime chuckled.

Yet the Witcher shook his head. "Considering what I know, I'm surprised no one else did in poor Aerys. Seems enough were that scared or that blindly loyal to him. Maybe in the end your intervention wasn't needed. Personally I'd have done the same yet far sooner."

For a moment Jaime's smug expression faltered, almost a hint of surprise showing on his face. Geralt had a feeling there was more that the knight knew, yet he didn't question the matter. "Anyway guess it's my turn. I can say the Northern Realms back home suffered under a pretty vicious king. His reign rough towards the end, having to fend off an invasion. Yet if anything the things he did made the conquest all the more appealing considering."

He'd go on for a good while detailing King Radovid's cruel reign, how he had grown to hate anyone with a sign of intelligence or relation to the occult, keeping the details of mages vague and brief. Detailing the purges and tortures that followed all who the king found as a 'threat' or nusence to his rule, Jaime couldn't help but pale a bit hearing how the man had his royal advisor's eyes scooped out with a heated metal spoon.

"So…how did his 'glorious' reign end? At the blade of his closest protector like me?" The knight questioned.

"More of a grand conspiracy between the last surviving spy masters and elite soldiers who cut a deal with the Empire. Keep their country's independence for Radovid's head. With me involved of course, organizing and recruiting the whole group."

Jaime smirked at the last bit. "So did you cut him down then? You seem the most capable."

"No…if anything Radovid nearly got away. Course he ran into his old advisor who was quick to show him the suffering she felt before putting a knife into his skull."

"Ah…" Jaime was silent, yet before he could speak there were voices coming from the Small Council chamber. It seemed their conversation had gone longer than expected.

"Anyway. Best leave for now. Rather not bother the King any further today." As he turned to leave the throne room, Jaime spoke up.

"One last question Geralt." The Witcher stopped, glancing back at the knight who had a serious look. "You never told me why you choose to help kill a king, put so much risk in such a difficult and dangerous act. What drove you to do so?"

For a moment Geralt was silent, curious at why the knight cared on such a personal detail. "Because I watched as too many innocent and friends were burned and tortured. Because in the end I wasn't going to let that bastard kill the few people I love and care for." He'd pause for a moment letting his words sink in. "You're still young Jaime. In the end there evil is evil, no matter if it is the lesser or greater. Forget the crap anyone says of breaking oaths and vows. When the right obvious choice is there…you take it."

By then there were footsteps coming from the council chambers, making Jaime glance away for a moment. When he looked back towards Geralt, the man was already leaving the large doors of the chamber. There was a puzzled look across Jaime's face, finding a strange respect to the Witcher's reasoning and point of view. "Heh…if he only knew." He muttered before hearing the Council entering the hall, making him snap out of his thoughts and focus onto his duties.

…

It wasn't hard for Geralt to find a servant who'd direct him to the guest quarters of the Red Keep. The palace was vast, often having open walkways that had breathtaking views of the Narrow Sea and the vast city below. Arriving at his room, it was by far the most lavish one he had stayed in since coming to Westeros, having a large four poster bed, finely carved furniture along with a counter of fine crystal bottles with liquor. His packs were set aside orderly for him which he'd check first, making sure now of her supplies were touched.

"I hope the accommodations are in order sir." The servant said, standing dutifully at the doorway.

"They are." Geralt muttered politely.

"Will you wish to have dinner brought up to you later? Also any special requests?"

He'd think for a moment before nodding. "I'll have dinner here. Also inviting Lord Tyrion if he has the time to visit. Besides that I'd also like the best map you have for the city since I plan to do some sightseeing."

"Of course sir." The servant bowed before hurrying out, closing the door behind him.

Now alone, Geralt sighed as he'd move towards the balcony that his room had, giving him a lovely view of city and sea. "Wish Yenn was here. She'd know who to handle this political mess." He muttered as he'd lean against the archway. He'd think over his conversation, trying to figure out what was with Jaime. From what he could guess, the knight's boasting and smugness was a cover to a degree. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter in the end so long as Jaime didn't pressure a rivalry between them. He had enough problems as it were. For now he'd take the time to sort out his packed supplies, guessing he may as well organize them since he felt he'd be staying here at the Keep for a long while.

…

By sunset, dinner had arrived along with Tyrion who was quick to chatter on about the recent news going on. The dwarf had been quick to visit his favorite brothel when they arrived, mainly to relax and catch up on rumors going around the city. Overall there was nothing too interesting or gossip that Geralt had heard already such as Daenerys reappearance and marriage. At the least the friendly chatter and fine drink helped the Witcher relax after the stressful meeting from earlier.

"So then, we need to focus on the tournament Geralt. We have only a few weeks left to prepare after all. Already knights and famous warriors are crowding to King's Landing, yet you need to be the one that stands the most. In fact there is already chatter among the common folk." Tyrion remarked after refilling his glass with wine.

"Really now? Haven't exactly done much since arriving here." Geralt remarked curiously.

"More of what you did days ago. Talk of you saving a boy from the fearsome Hound who was ordered to hunt him down for unknown reason. How you bravely swooped in without hesitation, dismounting the man while he charged." The dwarf's tone was thematic, trying to over exaggerate the tale.

"Well you knew that happened considering. Yet how did that news spread so fast?"

"They say there are two ways to get a message across Westeros. Either you do it by raven or it be on the tongues of simple folk who travel its roads. You forget, the ride from the inn and King's Landing isn't that long, the caravan just slowed us down."

"Fair point…well…guess it can't hurt having some budding reputation among the masses. At the least they don't seem to be planning for torches and pitchforks like back home."

"I'll never understand the backwards nature your land has." The dwarf sighed as he'd sip from his glass.

Geralt shrugged, gulping down his glass before setting it aside. "So any other details about the tournament?"

"Mainly just the events. There is the joust, Melee and archery."

"Sounds normal…although I don't think I'll be able to do the joust or archery. I can ride and fight mounted, yet don't know a thing about using a lance. Archery would matter on the rules, yet I doubt they'd allow a crossbow. Which leaves the Melee…so how will that one go?"

"A forty one man free for all from what I understand. Overall the rules allow for the combatants to fight with any weapons and armor allowed for the event along with being mounted. The event will be split between teams of twenty for the first round then two teams of ten for the second. The last ten remaining then begin a free for all between the."

"Quite big brawl. Hadn't fought against that many for a while…" Geralt muttered, a small smirk crossing his face. "That should be interesting."

"Twenty thousand gold dragons for the victor. A sizable prize overall…yet the real rewards will be on the bets. I can say I'm betting heavily that you will win the melee."

"You're that confident in my skills?"

Tyrion chuckled. "I believe myself a good judge of character. Besides, I think you want the prize money to support whatever plans you have or haul away back home once the matter about your adoptive daughter is settled."

Geralt was silent for the moment as the dwarf spoke, still wondering what he would do about Ciri and the true lurking threat beyond the Wall. Money could get him far, yet he doubted all the gold in the world could stop the White Frost or bend space and time. Part of him felt it be better to return North and to Castle Black, try to work with the Night's Watch however much he could and hope whatever aid the Kingdoms may send would be enough. However, he'd snap out of his thoughts when there was a knock at the door, making Geralt glance up.

"I'll get it." Tyrion quickly answered, hoping off his seat and hurrying to the door before Geralt to stop him. Standing behind the door was Eddard, who seemed to have clean himself up and changed into a fine set of dark grey clothes with the Hand of the King pin set on his vest. "Ah! Lord Stark, good to see you."

"Greets Lord Tyrion." Ned answered back politely before looking over at Geralt still sitting at the nearby table. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Nonsense! Please come in!" Tyrion invited, moving aside and returning to the table, getting an extra glass filled for the Stark.

Geralt sighed as Tyrion seemed to be deciding who got to visit him, although if anything he was pleased to see Eddard. The Northern Lord moved to an empty seat with a sigh, taking a sip from his glass as he tried to relax. "Really bothered Robert this time." He muttered.

"He shouldn't have made that offer then." Geralt grumbled as he'd take a deep drink to empty his glass.

"I know that. Early on the journey south he told me the news about Daenerys and the marriage she had, I was strongly against trying to assassinate her. The idea to have you do it made it even worse in my eyes."

"I'm curious why you're against it. If anything the Targaryens have done the most harm to your family personally by killing your father, brother and sister."

Ned didn't answer at first, fingers lightly tapping the table in thought. "You are right…Aerys Targaryen burned my father alive and had my brother strangled trying to save him. I hate him for that, not his daughter who wasn't even born yet." He muttered in a low serious manner.

"And your sister?"

"That is different."

"Considering what I read and the rumors I've heard…I can understand that."

Ned glanced up at Geralt curiously. "The whole story of her kidnapping? Heh…Robert was the one who believed that she was kidnapped, yet many others felt otherwise."

"Indeed." Tyrion sighed, suddenly stepping into the conversation. The two men had almost forgotten about the dwarf. "Rhaegar, grandest knight and perfect heir to the throne. He was the shining knight every maiden longed for. To think that he'd break such chivalry to do the things the King yammers about…it was against all reason."

"Tyrion, I think the drink is making you say things." Geralt chuckled.

"Let me finish! I know the story of how Rhaegar during the last tourney he was in favored the fair Lyanna Stark. How the tales go…romance and scandal it was. In the end many felt the two were love struck and in secret hurried away one-"

"Lord Tyrion." Ned's voice was low and cold. "I would ask you stop…and that you retire for the night." The look Eddard had seemed to snap the dwarf to his senses, having not seen the Stark look so intense before.

"My…apologies Lord Stark. Seems the wine did loosen my tongue. I meant no disrespect." Tyrion muttered. "Rest do us all well I think. Months on the road after all." Snatching the half empty wine bottle and his glass, he'd hurry for the door out. "Until next time gentlemen!" And he was gone, kicking the door behind him as he left the room.

Eddard relaxed once the Lannister was gone, sighing as he'd sip from his glass again. "He is right though. I remember the look she and the prince had back then. Love at first sight." He'd smirk a bit. "Robert was fuming. I never understood why drove him to feel such affection for my sister…"

"Love affected others in strange ways. I know the feeling well enough." Geralt remarked.

Ned nodded in agreement. "Yet Robert didn't understand my sister. He was too lost in her beauty to know who she really was. Under her fair looks she had an iron will like a wolf, a fierce independence like Arya." He'd sigh. "I wonder if she would have set Robert straight, chain up his urges and hone him into a decent man. Maybe he'd simply slip back into habit…" Eddard finished his cup, sliding it aside.

"So what killed her then?"

Ned glanced up at Geralt, dead silent.

"Every story varies. Most of them don't detail what happened…yet I know you were the one to find her in the end."

"That is a private matter Geralt. I trust you and have shared much about my sister…more than most."

"Then I won't press further." The Witcher finished his glass as well, sighing as he set it aside. "All I can say is I'm sorry for you…and your family. No doubt you're heard that a hundred times over the years…yet I feel it's worth saying."

Eddard nodded, glancing out at the open balcony and to the clear night sky. "Thank you then Geralt." For a long moment neither spoke, giving them both time to clear their thoughts on the touchy matter.

"Now then. What happens now? Your wife could be arriving any day now and she'll be quick to draw attention."

"I know. I've already notified the guards to watch the gates and docks." Ned muttered. "Hopefully I can speak some reason to her, plea with her to return home and care for Brann now that he has awaken."

"A good idea. Yet what about the investigation about Bran's assassin?"

"As you said the dagger is the key to linking this all together. Once we have the weapon we will need track down its history and ownership."

"Right…which will be my job. Be kind of hard for you to focus on your duties as Hand and discretely investigate. Know any good weapon smiths or historians who can help us." At this point, he'd pull up the map of King's Landing while Ned thought for a moment.

"I have some ideas." Pulling the map closer, he'd study it before pointing out some key streets and locations. "The Street of Steel is one of the oldest and most renowned section of the crafters district. Look for a man named Tobho Mott, he's a master smith who is said to be one of the few men among the Kingdoms to know the smiting of Valyrian steel." His attention then shifted to the docks. "Blackwater gets plenty of traffic from traders and merchants. Someone may know of the weapon or perhaps about the assassin himself if he traveled by ship somehow."

"Anywhere else?"

"There…is the Street of Silks. Brothels and luxury houses fill that part, yet many exotic deals are made around there. Lord Baelish has a…side business running one of the more lavish brothels."

"Heh, so the Master of Coin spends his wealth on a colorful industry. You're not saying we should ask for his help are you?"

"We have few allies around and I know Littlefinger does care for Cat…even if his interest is bothersome."

"Wait…did you just call him Littlefinger?" Geralt chuckled.

"It was a nickname he received over the years considering he is a minor lord of such an unremarkable region. Think of it as more of a…street name in public circles."

"Right." Looking over the map, his attention fell to the slums. "What about Flea Bottom?"

"The slums? That is an odd choice to good looking for leads." Ned questioned. "Nothing but the poor and criminal live in those cramped streets."

"You'd be surprised what such circles can know. I'll admit I've dealt with criminal groups before and they often have connections that are well spread out. Besides that, the common folk can be a useful ally in the end."

"If you think that is best. I'll trust your experience on the matter."

Geralt took the map back and rolled it up once more. "So what else was decided during the meeting after I left?"

"Well…Robert is set on having the tournament in honor of me. I tried to argue the matter yet he wouldn't let it be, claimed the people needed some festivities to up their moods and to introduce me to the masses."

"And what about Daenerys?"

"Currently I'm against taking any action against her right now. Unless there is a showing sign of an invasion, I won't condone the assassination of a banished girl. Yet I feel Varys already has made plans."

"Nothing we can do on that. Let's just hope it doesn't become any more complicated."

Nodding, Ned shifted to stand up with a sigh. "Anyway, I'd taken enough of your time tonight Geralt. I recommend that you rest in for a while and decide on what to do over the coming weeks." Moving for the door out, he'd stop to continue speaking. "Just watch yourself. Everything we do in the Keep will be noted…and try to avoid angering Robert any further."

"I'll try to avoid that. Rest well Lord Stark."

The Northern Lord left the room, leaving Geralt to himself at last. Getting out of his seat, he'd move over to the large bed and flop down with a tired groan. "Guh…feels like Novigrad all over again." He muttered. "Question is…who will end up dying in the end?" It was a grim thought, yet deep down his gut feeling told him this investigation wasn't going to end well. He put the negative feelings behind as he'd pull up the silken sheets, slipping off to sleep

Notice: So the intrigue truly begins! Have a lot of stuff planned for the next few chapters, think of it similar to the Winterfell three parter. I have plans for some favorite characters being involved that will no doubt be fitting for the story.