32 Chapter 22: S1-E21: To Court Chaos 1/2

Chapter Twenty-One: To Court Chaos

Forward: I'd like to thank Rainsfere and Max000, my current beta readers, for their help on editing on this chapter!

…

"Three days…and not a single clue."

Geralt stared out over the city from his balcony, hand tapping on top the stone barrier. The city still rang with the sound of bells and he swore he could still hear wailing as the people mourned. They all saw Lord Baratheon as the war hero who ended a tyrannical dynasty and brought peace to all the Kingdoms.

"I should have drink first for safety reasons. I let my guard down and didn't suspect on such an obvious approach."

"You couldn't have known. No one could have suspected Robert's personal wine was tampered with." Eddard muttered while standing beside him. "If anything, it is a miracle you survived. That was a specialized breed of Wolfsbane that kills in minutes…yet you seemingly recovered in just a day."

"If it wasn't for my mutations, I'd be having my own funeral alongside the King." He'd pause in thought for a moment. "It makes me wonder. Whoever poisoned the bottle may have been trying to target you as well. Robert always was able to coerce you to take a drink or two. Kill two birds with one stone.

The thought of being a fellow victim had Ned pale slightly, gaze shifting away from the Witcher, no doubt thinking of the sorrow his daughters would have felt. "Aye…that would be a troubling end."

Both were silent, lost in their thoughts over the last few days. Ever since the King's death, Geralt had been mostly confined to his room for 'safety' reasons, at the least from what Barristan had claimed. The Witcher knew better through as he was under close watch, practically under house arrest. There were always two guards watching his room and whenever he left, they'd follow him about. It made sense considering he had been alone with the King with only the fact that he too had been poison given him some proof of innocence.

"Does anyone else know of the decree?"

"No. I didn't get a chance to gather the Council and reveal it. Everyone is too caught up with what is going on."

"Then let's hope it gives you the authority needed to keep everything in order. Though I wonder…what did you write at the end of it."

"What?" A hint of surprise showed on Ned's face before he remembered just how attentive Geralt was. "I wrote down 'rightful heir' instead of Joffrey. It is deceitful I know…but it was the only choice to follow without telling Robert the truth."

"Should have just told him."

"Should have…maybe that would have saved him that day…" Ned muttered in agreement. "Beyond that I've sent out ravens yesterday to Winterfell, Dragonstone and other major holdings. I've proclaimed Stannis Baratheon to be the rightful heir and Joffrey's being false."

"All of the details."

"All of it."

Geralt was silent, now understanding what all those letters were about now. "So, a failsafe then. Inform the other lords of the Kingdoms of the corruption happening in the capital. Guess it will at least draw questions to Joffrey's legitimacy and damage the Lannister's image."

"I take no pride in it. Like I've said, underhanded moves like this are against everything I stand for."

"Desperate times desperate measures." The Witcher muttered in agreement. "What else is there?"

"A mix of good and bad news. Which should I tell first?"

"The bad, rather get that over with."

Ned nodded. "Lord Renly has fled the capital with Ser Loras alongside him along with all those loyal to them. After what happened to his brother, he is too fearful to remain at the Red Keep. Any support he can offer is beyond our reach."

"Damn it…that is bad. So, what is the good news?"

"New allies have arrived. Beric Dondarrion, Lord of Blackhaven, a vassal house deeply loyal to the Baratheons. He answered my call for support and came to the Red Keep just yesterday with a sizable group of loyal bannermen. Hopefully he'll be able to give us an edge of fighting does break out."

"Do the Lannister's suspect?"

"Maybe. Lord Tywin no doubt questions it, but to everyone else it seems Lord Beric and his men are simply here paying their respects to their liege."

"Still going to be difficult if a conflict breaks out. Between his forces and your own we still have the Watch, Tywin's soldiers and the King's Guard to possibly deal with. We need to win support of the Watch or most of the King's Guard to tip the odds in our favor."

"Which I can give you."

The sudden voice had both Geralt and Eddard quick turn about to see Lord Baelish sitting at the nearby table, the noble giving his iconic sly grin to the two. The man seemed to have slipped into the room uninvited, something that annoyed the Witcher.

"Thought you wanted to play neutral on the matter." Geralt remarked back coldly. He still remembered his confrontation with Littlefinger after the tourney, how he had forced the truth out about the man's lie about Tyrion.

"The King's murder has changed my view on the matter. Some feel that Joffrey should take the throne because he's the 'true' heir, while others feel the more experienced hand of Lord Stark is needed for now." He'd glance between the two, keeping his casual friendly demeanor. "Chaos and strife in the court is bad for business in general. You must understand my interests are for the best of all of Westeros."

Ned remained silent, staring tensely at Lord Baelish who acted formal despite the hostility shown.

Geralt leaned in to speak quietly with Ned. "We can't trust him. Let me talk to Ser Barristan…"

"The Lord Commander would be helpful, but you forget that the rest of the King's Guard may not follow his lead. Jaime will put his family before all else, especially in his sister's defense." Eddard glanced again at Baelish, open distrust showing towards the Master of Coin. "If anything, I distrust Baelish more than you. If we refuse his aid, he can easily side with the Lannisters just to cover his own back." He'd pause tensely, seeming hesitant still.

"You don't have to accept this. I wouldn't."

"Aye…yet I'm sadly not you." Ned gave a small warily smile. "This is my choice and whatever the outcome…I'll face it." He'd move away from Geralt's side and approach Baelish, one hand out to be shaken. "Fine Lord Baelish, I accept your aid."

"Wise of you Lord Stark." Yet when they grasped hands, Ned yanked Littlefinger closer to speak harshly to him.

"But if you betray us…you best do it well. Remember that."

Baelish paled slightly at the threat, haven't only seen Ned this fierce during the moment he had been pinned to the wall outside his own brothel. Glancing at Geralt, he saw the same sharp look in the Witcher's eyes, adding more to Eddard's warning. "Of course…Ned." He muttered back, using nickname snidely. Once his hand was let go, he'd flex his grip before continuing to speak. "I will speak with the Watch captains and Commander Janos Slynt. We'll be prepared within the day if need be."

"Good. Let us just hope we won't have to rely on their aid. You're dismissed Lord Baelish."

Littlefinger gave a low nod before moving to leave the room, seeming composed despite the threats just given to him.

Once the door closed shut, Ned sighed before looking to Geralt. "Hopefully that will keep him in line."

"Hopefully." Geralt muttered back. "So, what about other precautions? We should have your daughters sent away to someplace safe such as back towards the North or the Vale if need be."

"I agree. It will be difficult explaining it to them and Sansa will no doubt argue." Eddard paced closer to the door. "If all goes well, they should leave by tomorrow and be beyond anyone's grasp."

"Good…then all we do is wait then."

"Yes. Just try to relax Geralt, we'll pull through this."

The Witcher only nodded back in response before Eddard left the room, leaving Geralt by himself. For a moment he'd listen to the bells ringing throughout the city, deep in thought over what to do. Inaction always left him edgy, even more when the obvious threat just lurked close by. At that point he remembered what was going on in the far north at the Wall, the possible horrors Jon and the Night's Watch faced.

"Haven't written to him since I left." He muttered, glancing to the nearby table with parchment and quill set aside. Moving over to it, he quicken began to write.

To Jon Snow of the Night's Watch, son of Lord Eddard Stark

I know I've been silent these last few months, yet events at the capital have been tense. King Robert Baratheon is dead, murdered by conspirators vying for control. Your father's actions may very well brand him as a traitor to many, but his loyalty is to the late King and to the Kingdoms.

No matter what you hear, know that he has made difficult choices and has only done what he thought was best for all. If all goes well I plan to head North and return to the Wall. I've had my fill of Southern politics. For now, be vigilant and safe.

From, Geralt.

Not a moment after he finished writing, he'd hear the flutter of wings and a cawing sound from the balcony. Glancing over, he'd see Naser hobble into the room before fluttering up onto the back of a nearby chair. "Hello hello." It chattered.

"Odd…how did you…never mind." There was something odd about that bird, though considering his experiences this wasn't the most outlandish case. "I n eed you to take this to Castle Black and to Jon Snow. Understand?"

"Of course." Naser bobbed his head, seeming confident as Geralt rolled the letter scroll up before sliding it into a small tube to attach to the raven's leg. Once tied on, Naser hopped off the chair and flew out of the room, flying out over King's Landing and into the northern horizon.

Geralt sighed as he'd lean back in his seat, staring out at the city until he lost sight of Naser. "Waiting." Looking to the desk, he'd pick up the last book his was reading, trying to distract his mind for the rest of the day.

…

"Geralt…Geralt…GERALT!"

There was a sudden banging on the door, making the Witcher snap his eyes open before springing to action. He tumbled out of bed, rolling with his movement to land on his feet while grabbing his steel sword set just in reach. However, as the door suddenly unlocked he'd relax as he saw it was Thoros and some unknown man dressed in fine leather, chainmail and a deep green cloak fitting of a lord. Both seemed a bit taken back by Geralt's battle ready pose, yet quickly calmed down despite the fearsome surprise.

"What's going on?" Geralt questioned as he lowered his sword to his side.

"A meeting has been called for in the throne room by Queen 'Regent' Cersei and 'King' Joffrey…at least that's what the messenger has claimed." Thoros quickly explained.

The other man stepped into the room, giving a small bow to Geralt. "I feel it would be best to introduce myself. Lord Beric, titles can wait. Right now, the men are being organized and Lord Stark expects you at his side with confronting the queen."

The news was sudden, yet the Witcher understood the situation. "Give me a few minutes. Beric, go meet with your men. Thoros, wait outside until I'm ready."

The Red Priest grinned, pleased with the direct commands given. "Heh of course Witcher. Let us see how fate plays out today!"

Both men left, giving Geralt time to change into fresh clothes and into his armor. Strapping his swords onto his back, Dragonfang at the hip and a selection of basic potions and bombs. The bombs were mainly a selection nonlethal ones to avoid any unneeded deaths. Making sure the chest was tightly locked and the key in hand, he'd leave the room and rejoin Thoros.

Both hurried through the Red Keep, heading down to the lower floor and to the main yard just outside the main hall. The gathered men were a mix of Ned's Northern guards and Beric's troops, a sizable force combined. Eddard was busy speaking with Beric, dressed in a quilted vest and leathers along with having a longsword at his side. Seeing the Witcher and the Red Priest, he'd finish speaking with the other Lord before turning his attention to them.

"Seems it has come to this. Cersei has played her hand and now expects us to do the same." He muttered. "She has most of the court already gather, though Lord Tywin is absent."

"Odd…has he left the capital?" Geralt questioned.

"It seems Tywin has been tracing back on our your own investigation throughout the city personally. Maybe he thinks we had a hand in Robert's death or is trying to figure out what we've discovered."

"Explains the timing of this gathering. Cersei's father could easily complicate matters if he was present." Geralt remarked on.

"Indeed. I feel Tywin would be against Joffrey being crowned so quickly after Robert's death, considering the fact the boy lacks the skills and mentality to lead. That is not including the truth about his parentage." Ned shook his head. "For now, we work with the authority vested in me as the Hand. If Cersei resists, then we will have to use force."

"Then let's hope she's not that mad with ambition." The Witcher thought for a moment, quickly realizing something. "Is Arya and Sansa safe?"

Ned nodded. "Syrio is with Arya while Sansa has Jory and two of our guard watching her at my tower. They should be safe for what is to come."

Geralt relaxed, though he wished the two girls were halfway across Westeros instead of here. "Then let's do this. Be ready for anything…"

Eddard nodded slightly in agreement before gesturing to ten of the gathered men. "The rest of our men will wait outside in case of trouble. The Gold Cloaks are already within the hall along with Lord Baelish, so hopefully their numbers will be enough if a fight breaks out."

Mutterings of understanding followed before Eddard took the lead marching into the main hall with Geralt following alongside, while Beric and Thoros following close behind. There were a few lesser nobles who were milling about in the hall, giving surprised looks seeing the well-armed trope approaching the throne room. The men of the Watch hardly reacted to their arrival, showing an unflinching professionalism the entire time. Within the throne room itself, nearly everyone Geralt knew who lived within the Red Keep was gathered within the grand chamber. More of the Watch lined the sides of the hall, spears in hand and arming swords at the hip.

Littlefinger stood by the entry way, seeming to have been waiting for their arrival. He'd step up to whisper something to Lord Stark, Eddard not saying anything back. Baelish though had that confident smirk hinting his lips, though why Geralt wasn't certain.

The Witcher was quick to notice other key members of the Court such as Varys who stood among the crowd, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robes and looking as calm as ever. His observant gaze did focus on the group, a serious hint showed in his bright eyes as he no doubt knew what was about to happen. Pycelle stood close by the spymaster, a black notebook and pen in hand as he was quickly writing something down, no doubt a recording of what he was witnessing.

Barristan, Jaime along with five of the other King's Guard stood lined up before the looming Iron Throne. All of them were fully dressed in their golden armor along with fine metal shields which they had strapped to their backs. Geralt couldn't deny they were quite imposing at this moment; all the men's faces having focused looks under their helmets.

Behind them beside the Iron Throne was Sandor, fully dressed and looking the cleanest Geralt had ever seen. While the King's Guard were regal, he looked fierce with his hound shaped helm closed over his head. Despite his face being covered, the Witcher could sense the man's gaze set on him directly.

On the other side of the throne sat Cersei herself, dressed in her finest clothes for this occasion. It was the most queenly she had ever looked with her crown set onto of her stylized hair, giving her a regal if snobby look, at least from the Witcher's point of view. A small frown hinted her face seeing the armed force Eddard had brought, but she seemed calm none of the less.

Next to her stood Lancel, dressed in a new set of squire clothes with the more fitting colors of the Lannister house. When he saw Geralt he was wide eyed and face paled, making the Witcher wonder if his Axii Sign had been faulty somehow. The young man leaned in to whisper something to Cersei, yet the woman's expression remained unchanged even after he finished speaking.

Lastly there was her son who sat on the high seat of the bladed throne, lodging back to be comfortable on the rough metal seat. He too was changed into the finest set of clothes Geralt had seen the prince in, regal leather designed in a scaled pattern along with brown fine cloth under it. His face had a serious look to it, almost commanding as he'd stare at Eddard directly. Despite the armed men followed the Stark, he seemed unconcerned of them.

Soon Eddard's group stopped in the middle of the room, keeping a fair distance from the line of King's Guard between them and Joffrey. Ned looked up at the prince, having a determined look in his eyes as he seemed to wait for the boy to speak first.

"I command the Council to make all necessary arrangements for my coronation. I wish to be crowned within the fortnight. Today I will accept oaths of fealty from my loyal Councilors." The boy's gaze drifted across the hall, passing over each of the members of the Small Council before settling back on Ned. "My father's murder is a great tragedy, but we mustn't let fear and hesitation deny Seven Kingdoms its rightful ruler."

For a long moment, no one spoke within the hall, the silence almost deafening if it weren't for the muffled din of bells ringing in the city. Geralt wondered how much of the boy's speech was of his own making or prepared by his dear mother's advice. In the end though, Eddard at last spoke.

"Bold words your grace…however being too hasty is unwise." He calmly answered back before shifting one hand to his belt, drawing the sealed scroll of Robert's last decree. "You may claim the right to rule, yet that is not for you to decide."

Both Joffrey and Cersei gave confused looks, anger hinting the boy's eyes. "What do you mean Lord Stark?" He questioned sharply.

Ned looked forward at Barristan, the old knight staring back. "Ser Barristan. I believe no man here could question your honor." He'd hold out the scroll to the man, who'd slowly step forward and take it.

He'd examine the parchment closely, focusing on the wax seal. "King Robert's seal. Unbroken." Slowly, he'd pace closer to the Iron Throne before opening the scroll and began to read it out loud before reaching the decree's conclusion. "Lord Eddard Stark is to be hereby named Protector of the Realm. To rule as Regent, until the rightful heir is decided."

A low murmuring filled the hall when it came to the last part of the decree or in this case final will. Now Geralt understood what Eddard had done, the act questionable yet understood. The lack of Joffrey being directly named as heir drew a shocked look across the boy's face who glanced to his mother, almost pleadingly for some help from her.

Cersei barely kept her own dismayed look hidden from even Geralt's sharp eyes, quickly turning it into a passive expression. "Let me see that letter Ser Barristan." She'd politely ask before standing up, waking closer for the knight to hand the paper over. Taking it, she'd glance over the written words with a quite dismissive look before a small coy smile crossed her fair lips. "Is this meant to be your shield Lord Stark?" Turning the paper in her hands, she'd casually rip it in half, the sound echoing through the hall. "A piece of paper." Again, the parchment was torn, echoing out again before she tossed the pieces aside.

Beric and even Barristan gawked at what they just witnessed while Thoros held back a growling curse. "She-devil…to disrespect her own husband's last wishes!"

"Those were the King's words." Barristand remarked in shock towards Cersei, who coyly smiled back.

"We have a new King now." She simply stated back with a coy smile.

"You disregard your husband's last wishes?" Geralt suddenly spoke up, drawing Cersei's attention to him. "I witnessed him give those last orders, thought I guess you wouldn't care if the entire world was witness to that moment

"No…I question them." She sharply countered back. "Ever since you and Lord Stark had joined the court, trouble has followed. Suspicious isn't it? Lord Stark has much to gain in being given the title of Regent and while you…his lapdog can earn whatever prize promised."

The Witcher clenched one fist tightly as he was ready to snap back before Ned moved an arm in front of Geralt to silence him. "Is slander and lies your only defense your grace?"

"How amusing. You and your pet 'wolf' have spent months snooping throughout the city…seen in quite questionable places even. Do not think I am naïve or blind Lord Stark."

The gathered crowd muttered, seemed divided on what was going on at this very moment. Geralt knew that was Cersei's goal, twist their actions into something shady and hostile towards the royal family. Already he could see Thoros tensing, the priest's battle instinct seeming on edge. However, he'd put a firm hand on the man's shoulder to calm him down before glancing at Eddard who remained ever calm.

"Aye…you are right." The answer drew surprised reactions from everyone really, showing even Cersei didn't expect Ned to admit to her 'accusations'. "Geralt has been my eyes and ears within King's Landing, investigating the late Lord Jon Arryn's last actions before he was assassinated." The new revelation drew gasps from the nobles, showing few knew the full story of the respected former Hand's passing. "Lord Arryn was seeking King Robert's illegitimate children within the capital, comparing them to with royal children."

Cersei paled slightly, shifting slightly where she stood as Ned openly spoke of this. Her eyes though were like daggers, trying hopelessly to silence Eddard as he continued to speak.

"The ancestry of the Baratheon's is long and well recorded. Always the children of that House bared black hair…a trait every one of his bastard children has. A trait which your sons and daughters lack Queen Cersei."

Geralt couldn't help but smirk from Eddard's dramatic reveal as the hall burst into a flurry of chatter. The gathered courtiers and nobility was arguing, debating fiercely until drowned to the tolling of the bells. Suddenly, Joffrey stood up from the Iron Throne, yelling out over the many voices in a state of pure anger.

"SILENCE!"

All voices obeyed that command, calm returning to the room, nearly everyone glancing at the false prince. The boy's right hand was red, dripping blood from being cut across the bladed arm rest of the throne in his moment of frustration.

"You lie…You lie Eddard Stark…" He growled loudly. "I am the son of Robert Baratheon! I have the right to claim this trone and I will not let your filthy slander disgrace him any further!"

If anything, Geralt felt pity at that moment for the screaming boy. He completely adored his 'father', valuing his name over even the Lannister's from the way he spoke. Yet it also showed just how troubled he was, unstable and broken with the lie he had been raised to believe.

"I do this for his honor. You are faultless in this matter Joffrey…yet your mother must pay for her selfish actions and heinous crimes." Ned stated back, calm unwavering as he stared back at Cersei. "Because I know you planned Robert's murder, along with the attack on his hunt." At that point Eddard gripped one fist tightly, holding back anger. "He was you husband for gods sake…and you murdered him for petty power!"

The room remained silent as Eddard listed the final crime Cersei had committed. Joffrey's look of anger faded, seeming unsure of what to react. He was muttering something to himself before glancing down at his mother, who in turn looked up to him.

"That is enough." She coldly muttered. "No more Eddard. We will not accept these false claims, these imagined crimes. You will not steal the right my family has or deny the people it's proper king!" Again, she looked to Joffrey, nodding slightly to him.

At that point the boy seemed to snap to attention, glancing back at Eddard and his gathered men. "King's Guard, Hound and Watch!" He snapped out. "Arrest Lord Stark and his supporters for treason! Kill any who dare resist!"

At that moment the room was filled with the drawing of steel. Geralt, Jaime and Barristan the first to have their blades out, while the rest followed suit except for Eddard who didn't even reach for his blade.

"Commander!' Ned looked off to the side at one of the Watch captains, a man with a short white beard. "Take the queen and her son into custody! Escort them to their royal apartments and keep them there under guard!"

"Men of the Watch." The Commander spoke loud yet calmly, the guardsmen giving a short yah as they'd lower their spears towards the Lannister's forces, who shifted back nervously being vastly outnumbered. Yet despite this…Geralt sensed something was wrong. It was the look on Cersei's face, she was faintly smiling.

"I want no bloodshed. Tell your men to lay down their weapons and no one needs to die."

There was a short pause, which to Geralt felt like a full minute as he saw Cersei's gaze glance to the Watch Commander, their gazes meeting before she gave a short nod. Adrenaline kicked in as the Witcher realized the spears weren't pointed at their enemies…but at their very backs.

"EVERYONE MOVE!" He yelled out before the Commander gave out an order, the guardsmen suddenly lunging in to attack.

Four of the Stark men were impaled through the back with spears, howling out as they grasped at the metal tips piercing through their chests. Two others got stabbed into the side, forcing them onto their knees before they were stabbed again, spewing up blood as it filled up their throats and lungs. The other four barely reacted in time, drawn blades swatting the jabbing spears aside, just sparing their lives for a few more moments.

Yet for Geralt, Beric and Thoros, they had six guards focus on them. They no doubt knew just how dangerous the trio were, trying to kill them in a coordinated surprise attack. The Witcher though was faster, steel blade slashing widely to cut three of the spears shafts apart, leaving them useless without their metal tips.

Thoros yelled out fiercely as he'd just dodge the jab, left hand grabbing the spear shaft and yank guardsman forward. The unlucky man got a sword driven into his gut before being kicked off the blade in a bloody fashion.

Beric parried one of the spears stabbing at him, though the other just reached him. He twisted his body as it stabbed at his shoulder, drawing a pained cry as the spear tip just pierced through his chainmail to draw blood. It was a minor wound, which did little to weaken his guard as he'd strike the pommel of his sword into the man's face, breaking the nose and forcing him back.

"Protect Lord Stark!" Geralt yelled out as he glanced about, seeing the four remaining Stark guards get picked off one by one before they could regroup with the others. However, what really caught the Witcher's off guard the was sight of Littlefinger grappling Ned from behind, a familiar curved dagger pressed at the Northern lord's throat. It was the missing twin of the Valyrian dagger that Geralt had strapped to the side of his hip. "You bastard…"

Baelish had a sly grin across his face, making sure that sharp blade pressed closely to Eddard's neck to force him back towards the line of Guardsmen. "Don't be angry Witcher. The game was set against you since the beginning." He answered back. Ned tried to struggle free, his movements making the blade lightly draw blood. "Now Ned, you wouldn't like to slit your own throat…" The backstabbing noble chuckled.

At this point the Watch along with the King's Guard and Hound slowly closed in towards Geralt, Beric and Thoros. The trio soon were back to back, protecting each other's blindside. Barristan neared the Witcher, his calm eyes looking directly into the Witcher's feline like gaze. The Lord Commander said nothing, yet in truth that sharp gaze spoke much.

"Heh well done Lord Baelish! Your loyalty is true as expected." Joffrey chuckled out as Littlefinger soon had Eddard grabbed by three Guardsmen, who quickly disarmed and shackled him.

Baelish simply bowed back, almost as if to mock Ned and Geralt. "It was the right thing to do your grace. I couldn't simply let such treason be ignored."

"Damn you to the Seven Hells Baelish!" Ned snapped out before getting punched across the face by one of the guards, silencing him before he could curse out any further.

Cersei smirked in sadistic glee seeing Eddard beaten before her, yet she didn't let it distract her for too long as her gaze focused on surviving members. "So 'White Wolf'…where is your fighting spirit?" Her tone mocking, making the Witcher growl in anger. "Thoros. It is a shame you were deluded joining their side. Then again you are a lowly drunkard, a man of weak faith."

"Piss off you bitch!" He snapped back, giving a quite evil grin at her.

"Hound cut out his tongue once he is captured. He just said his last words." Joffrey ordered out, the armored man only nodding slightly at the command. "The three of you deserve to suffer for your transgressions. My father trusted all of you and now you betray it after his death. Especially you Witcher. I looked up to you…adored you even after seeing what you could do." The boy paused, eyes gleaming with a sudden idea. "That is why I give you a choice. Bend the knee and admit that I am the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Do what Lord Stark refused. In turn…I may show mercy. Exile for you while the rest are sent to the Wall for the rest of their days."

Geralt gripped his steel blade tightly in both hands, staring up at the boy with a cold look. He'd glance to Beric and Thoros beside him, both men tense yet knowing very well the odds were very much against them.

"Do what he says Geralt." Jaime suddenly spoke up, making the Witcher look forward to see the blond-haired knight standing beside Barristan. He would have expected a smug look across the man's face yet instead it was one of pleading. "Don't throw your life away like this. It's not worth it."

Again, Geralt remained silent as his mind was rapidly thinking over possible escapes. Even with his skills, he couldn't outmatch so many at once, not with the mass of spearmen surrounding him. It all came down to one person.

"Ser Barristan." He calmly muttered, though the aged knight hardly moved when spoken to. "Remember what I said after the hunt, about the choice between duty and doing what is right?"

"What are you blathering about Witcher?' Cersei questioned, yet Geralt continue to speak.

"Yes." The knight answered back in a calm voice.

"Time to decide on which you value more." With that, the Witcher dropped his sword at his feet, the steel blade's clanging echoing through the throne room.

"Geralt! What in the hell are you thinking?!" Thoros whispered in shock.

"Stalling." He muttered back.

"For what?' Beric questioned.

"For the right moment. When it comes, grab the bombs on my belt. Pull the pins and throw them. Cover your faces as soon as you do else you'll be stunned."

"Are you just going to stand there Geralt?' Joffrey spoke up, interrupting their whispering. "You are doing well so far. All you need to do is kneel and admit my right to rule."

For a moment Geralt gazed about the hall, noticing how Varys had disappeared during the conflict. It was a small detail, yet one he felt was important. Slowly he'd start to shift down onto one knee while he glanced over to Eddard, the man's face having such a shamed look seeing his friend submitting in such a way. However, the Witcher gave a small smile at Ned, making a confused look cross the man's face.

He'd stop halfway to kneeling as he'd look back up at Joffrey, an odd look showing across the boy's face. "You know what…fuck you. I'd rather be dead then grovel to a pasty spoiled brat like you." Standing up straight, he'd see the prince trembling in brewing anger while Cersei stared in complete shock. The woman tried to speak up, wanting to warn her son yet the prince reacted first.

"KING'S GUARD! HOUND! WATCH! KILL HIM! KILL THEM ALL!"

Jaime and his fellow brothers in arms were too shocked to react to the command while the Hound seemed to be…laughing out loud at what he had just witnessed. Barristan though didn't hesitate, the old knight rushing in with shocking speed, swinging his sword down at the Witcher. Geralt reacted just as fast as he'd swipe his wolf sigil bracer out, timing it perfectly to deflect the attack. Both men were up close, nearly face to face for a split second.

"Run."

The one word shared was all Geralt needed, before he'd kick the man right in the chest. His peak human strength and steel toed boot dented that golden chest plate, making Barristan be flung back with a pained yell. His arms were out wide as if bracing for a fall, while in fact he 'accidently' tackled down Jaime along with another King's Guard within his reach. Jaime cursed out, caught off guard by the sudden fall which knocked his blade free from his grip.

Geralt however did not pause for a moment, thrusting both hands forward and flexing his fingers into a duel Aard. Putting his full focus into the Sign, the burst of telekinetic force flew out wide across the end of the throne room. It was strong enough to fling everyone onto their backs, including the Hound and King's Guards who hadn't be knocked down beside their Lord Commander. Cersei screamed out in terror as she was flung roughly aside, while Joffrey cried out having his back slammed into the rough back of the Iron Throne. For those who hadn't been hit by the Sign, they'd gawk in complete disbelief, unsure of what they just witnessed. As for Geralt, he felt an intense dizziness hit him like before, only far more intense as he felt like he was going to faint. Despite the feeling though he'd stand strong, swiping his blade off the ground and getting into a battle-ready stance.

At that same moment though, Beric and Thoros reacted as well. Each man grabbing a bomb at the Witcher's belt before throwing the alchemical devices into the crowd of shocked Watch before they'd turn their heads away and used their free arm to cover their faces. Loud bangs filled the room as the Samum bomb exploded in blinding flashes of light and smoke, drawing shocked cries among the crowd of soldiers and courtiers.

"MOVE!" Geralt ordered out, as the trio turned as one for the doorway out. There were only six guards in their way, only partly blinded by the bombs. They were quick to recover from being stunned, but that was all the time the group needed to fight through. Both Geralt and Thoros gave a powerful shoulder charge to tackle the men aside, putting their strength to full use while the Watch's stance was weak. The group barreled out of the throne room and into the grand entrance hall. They could hear fighting echoing from outside in the main yard, the rest of the men loyal to Eddard clashing against a large ambush of Lannister soldiers.

"Go help the men! Fight your way out of the keep and get out into the city!" Geralt quickly ordered Beric while Thoros slammed the heavy doors of the throne room shut, buying them a few more precious seconds.

"What about you?" Beric quickly questioned

"I need to get Ned's daughters. You two focus on staying alive! I'll find you somehow!" Before they could argue, he was already rushing down one hall leading deeper into the keep. Despite how fast he moved, he felt a gnawing exhaustion creeping over him ever since he did that duel Sign. "Have to keep going. Just a bit longer."

…

"Foreign bastard!"

The Lannister soldier swung out at the short duelist who casually batted attack aside with his study practice sword. Soon there be a ringing bang as wooden sword bashed into the man's armored head, knocking his armored form to the ground.

"And you will be speaking to me with more respect." Syrio had his other hand shift from behind his back, drawing his rapier from its sheath. He'd agilely spin both weapons in his hands, pacing slowly about as Ser Trant and the four other Lannister soldiers shifted to try surrounding both him and Arya.

"Kill the Braavosi and bring me the girl." The King's Guard ordered to the other men, their swords at the ready.

"Seems our lesson is over child. Stay away while I deal with our guests. I swore to your father to watch you after all." The man showed no fear as he spoke while his gaze shifted between the soldiers, trying to judge who'd make the first move.

Arya stood back, Needle in hand yet open worry hinting her face. While she trusted in her teacher's skill, she couldn't deny that the odds were against him still. "I can-" She started before suddenly one of the soldiers lunged for her, trying to slip by the duelist and take her hostage.

Syrio though was faster, body twisting about as he'd slide his thin blade through a gap in the soldier's ornate armor, drawing a pained cry weapon sunk in deep. The wooden sword followed up striking across his head to knock him aside, before the duelist turned about to parry an incoming blow. The two soldiers who rushed him soon were pushed onto the defensive as Syrio began a deadly dance with his weapons. He'd use the wooden sword to break the soldiers guard before following up with quick stabs or short cuts with his rapier

The two other men tried to aid their allies, yet Syrio dodged and turned about. He'd trip and push the men into each other, misdirecting any attack towards him onto another. More pained cries filled the air as one by one the soldiers were picked off, all badly wounded between Syrio direct attacks or from accidently harming each other. Arya flinched seeing blood pool under the fallen men, all of them too wounded to keep fighting.

"Useless oafs." Trant growled as he'd draw his long sword and raise up a shield, slowly closing in towards the duelist.

Syrio sidestepped about the knight, trying to outmaneuver the more heavily armored man. As before he'd use the wooden sword defensively, yet it began to crack and splitter as Trant struck back with powerful sword blows and bashes with his shield. The duelist's rapier did get past the shield, but even the exposed points were two well armored to pierce.

"Need a bigger sword, fool." Trant laughed out while Syrio remained silent, a cold fierce glare in his eyes. Suddenly there'd be the sound of metal being rended, followed by the man giving a pained cry as he was slashed across his back. Falling to his knees, the King's Guard was barely able to support himself as he glanced back to see Geralt loomed over him, blooded steel sword in hand. "You…freak…" He gasped before Syrio struck across the man's jaw with the wooden sword with a resounded crack. The sword broke from the force, Trant's jaw and right cheek no doubt suffering the same fate before slamming his head to the stone floor."

"The aid wasn't needed Witcher…though welcomed." Syrio sighed, though he gave a small thankful grin as he'd toss the broken training sword aside.

Geralt looked over the room with the wounded soldiers spread about, groaning out in pain from their wounds. "Seems like you handled yourself well enough." His attention focused on Arya who looked right back at him, her worried expression quickly becoming a joyful one.

"Geralt!" She hurried over to him to, almost giving him a hug before realizing this wasn't the right time. "What is going on? Father was acting odd this morning and…did something bad happen?"

"Its difficult to explain." The Witcher muttered before echoing yells could be heard from hallway, making both him and Syrio glance to the doorway. Placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, he gave a serious look to her. "I'll tell you what happened once we're safe. I promised your father that I'd keep you and your sister safe, no matter the odds."

The girl was silent, obviously worried over what was going on. "I…I understand. Yet where are we going to go?"

Already Geralt was wondering the same thing. No doubt all the ways leading directly out of the Keep were being watched by now. While he was certain he and Syrio could fight their way though, he didn't want to put Arya and Sansa at risk by putting them near another fight. "We'll find a way." He assured Arya after a moment. "Right now, we need to find your sister before we leave."

"I'm not certain. I saw her with Jory earlier this morning heading off to the gardens."

"Then we best search there." Syrio remarked. "At the least within the gardens we'll have more cover to elude the guards."

Nodding in agreement, Geralt moved to the doorway out to check outside the hall. "Then let's go. Syrio, watch our back. Arya, you stay close behind me. If trouble comes, I expect you to keep away or run if need be."

"I'm not helpless you know!" The girl argued. "I know your trying to protect me…but what was the point training me if-"

"Because if you hesitate for an instant, you may very well get hurt." Geralt sternly warned. "I know you want to help, but right now there are too many risks. If needed you can defend yourself, but right now we must focus on escaping. Is that clear?"

The commanding tone had Arya quiet down before nodding in understanding.

"Good. Now let's move."

The group quickly filed out of the room, sneaking a winding route towards the gardens. Sometimes they'd stop as a group of guards hurried by, just avoiding them as they'd hang back to hide behind some cover.

"Our way is becoming more difficult Geralt…" Syrio warned.

"I've noticed." Geralt muttered back as he'd glance around the next corner. He'd notice one of the rooms along the hall open and a familiar robed figure standing at the doorway. Despite the chaos going on through the Keep, the spymaster looked ever calm, even amused from the way he stood there. The chubby man gave a small nod to the Witcher to follow along before disappearing into the room.

So…what is the Spider planning?" The duelist muttered, having just noticed the man as well.