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"Either helping us or luring us into a trap. I hopefully helping." Checking about once more, he'd gesture for the group to hurry towards the room. Syrio was quick to close and lock the door behind them while Geralt focused on Varys who was pacing along the western wall of the room, a simple bed chamber by the looks of it. "So, Master of Whispers, did things play out as you expected?" He calmly questioned, sword at the ready for any surprises.

At first Varys didn't react as he'd touch his hand along the stone wall, almost as if he was looking for something. "I had many predictions on the outcome. Mainly it came down to the role Baelish would play…a costly mistake on Lord Stark's part. I'm certain you were very much against his involvement, so the blame isn't on you." He'd suddenly answer back. "I will admit your escape from the throne room was unexpected. Even with knowing about your formable skills, I was doubtful you'd leave that chamber alive, much less with your companions in tow."

"I had a few surprises left." Geralt simply remarked back.

"Yes…" Varys tone became quite cold for a moment, eyes narrowing in a very judging manner. His hand pressed to another stone which clicked, sinking slightly into the wall. "Ah there it was." The chubby man pushed up against the wall which slowly swung open like a door, revealing a dark passage behind it. "While I have many thing to say about you Geralt, now is not the best time." He'd fold his hands into the sleeves of his robes, again taking that calm stance. "The Red Keep has many secret passageways such as this. Follow this way until you reach an intersection, then take the right passage until you reach some stairs. Continue down and you should be led to the cliffs by Black Harbor, where a mutual friend of ours will be awaiting to help you. I'm certain from there you will be able to handle yourself."

For a while Geralt didn't answer as he glanced to Syrio and Arya. The duelist had a cautious look about him while Arya seemed nervous about the spymaster, considering the fact she knew nothing of the man. "Syrio, take Arya ahead. I'll follow along in a moment."

"If you think that is for the best." Syrio answered back before gesturing for Arya to follow along.

For a moment the girl hesitated before she'd follow closely after her teacher, giving a worried look to Geralt before she disappeared down the dark passage.

"Why help now?" Geralt asked once his companions were gone, letting him speak privately with Varys.

"Because as I said before, I'm best suited to help in my subtle ways. If I was standing alongside you when you shared your accusations, I'd either be dead on the end of a spear or in chains like Lord Stark. Better that I work unsuspected among our enemies…" He'd pause as he'd pace away slowly. "For one, I can say Sansa is beyond your reach for now."

"Why is that?"

The spymaster rolled his eyes a bit. "She's been captured already and under heavy guard. Cersei had planned ahead to blackmail Lord Stark if things didn't play out in her favor."

"Damn it…" Geralt gripped his sword tightly, hating how the situation was only getting worse. "Why should I take your word as fact? You could be very much lying to me, trying to dissuade me."

"Because I have no reason to lie. If anything, your attention should be getting the other girl as far away from here as possible." Varys calmly countered back. "Debating won't help the matter. Focus on escaping and leave the rest to me. A time will come when your talents will be needed."

Remaining silent, the Witcher glanced to the passage way, unable to deny that time was key right now. After what Lord Baelish had pulled off, he was hesitant to believe people like Varys. If anything, he could sense a more hostile feeling coming off the man, the similar vibe he'd received countless times from those discriminated against anything magical. "Then pray you don't make the same choice as Littlefinger." He warned as he'd move for the dark passage. "If you do see him though…give him a message."

Varys turned to glance at the Witcher, the man's cat like eyes glowing fainting in the low light of the hidden passageway.

"Tell him if I ever see him again. I'll kill him." It was a cold and blunt message, chilling enough that even Vary seemed to shiver for a moment.

The spymaster simply bowed slightly in response, composing himself after that message was given. "Be safe Witcher. Oh, and don't worry about contacting me. I'll find you instead." With that said, he'd grasp the hidden doorway and pull it closed, leaving Geralt in darkness.

…

It was a long trek through the passageways, yet Varys direction proved true in the end. Geralt, Syrio and Arya squeezed through a tight exit out of a natural opening onto a cliffside trail, set below the looming Red Keep. Alarm bells were still ringing out, showing the search was still ongoing. Arya moved to lightly grip Geralt's left arm, making him glance down to see the girl's worried face. He'd give a soft smile to ease her distress, though he'd glance up suddenly when he heard someone speak up.

"Witcher! Over here!" Farther down the trail was Davos, the grizzled sailor standing by row boat with a crewman sitting within it. "Seems the Spider was right to warn me." The man muttered as the group neared him, Syrio and Geralt sheathing their weapons for the moment. "I was worried things go south within the court. Is Lord Stark…" However, he'd stop himself when he noticed Arya among them, no doubt feeling it unfitting to mention her father currently.

"I'll tell you what happened later. I take you have someplace safe for us to hideout?"

"Aye, an old warehouse at the harbor. It will be secure enough for us to plan our next more from there." Gesturing to the rowboat, the crewmen would pull lift-up some heavy cloth covers. "Everyone best hide themselves. The harbor is being watched, so we need slip by unnoticed."

Arya glanced at Geralt, seeming unsure to follow along with Davos directions. "You can trust Davos. He's one of the most honest men I've met." The Witcher assured her.

"I believe you…just…I've never been on a boat before." Arya answered back, seeming embarrassed on the matter.

"Don't you worry Lady Stark. This here is the sturdiest rowboat you'll ever ride in all of the known seas." Davos remarked, putting his friendly nature to use to ease any worry she felt.

The young Stark couldn't help but smile back, the first time since this crisis began. "Fine then captain." She chuckled before she'd carefully step onto the small boat while Syrio followed along, pausing to speak to Davos.

"I can say I've heard of your name before back in Braavos. The elusive Davos, the master smuggler of the Narrow Sea."

"Heh, never knew I had such a name considering. Still that was a long time ago." The captain muttered.

Geralt was the last before the trader kicked the boat away from the rocky shore, agilely jumping in despite the distance. Sitting down, he and his crewmen grabbed the oars to start rowing. The others would focus on staying low in the boat while they tugged gray cloth over themselves. Arya did yelp whenever a strong wave rocked the ship, Geralt reached one hand out for her to hold and calm herself. While they couldn't see anything, they soon were surrounding by the bustling noises of the harbor. Nearby ships creaked in the water, sails flapping in the wind and chatter of people on the docks. It was a slow ride, though it seemed the guards hadn't gotten patrols to watch the waters as the party rowed by without issue.

Drifting down one of the side channels that lead to the storehouses, Davos soon spoke up. "We're clear now. You can come out." The cloth was pulled off to reveal they were docked at an old yet well kept warehouse. More of Davos crew were either busy moving boxes of supplies about or keeping watch. The trade got out first, offering a hand to help Arya out while the rest carefully climb out onto the dock.

"Quite the place." Geralt remarked as they'd soon be guided to the main doors into the building.

"Ever since the Rebellion I've been able to expand my trading business. I have warehouses like this across the major ports of Westeros and Essos. Allows me to build up a supply until a demand is needed." Davos explained. The inside of the building was quite large, having a maze like lay out with crates, barrels and chests set orderly about. The captain guided them through the maze to a separate area, a bunk and plain sitting space for the workers. "This is the best we can offer for now. Basic comforts yet secluded."

"I've stayed in far worse. Overall it will do." Geralt commented while he watched Arya pace around the room, seeming distracted with her thoughts.

"I know you're concerned for the girl…but we need to talk privately." Davos whispered back.

Nodding, the Witcher moved over to Arya, getting her attention once she neared. "Need to talk?"

Her gaze drifted away from him before she'd move to sit in an empty chair. Her hands fiddled with Needle in it's sheath, showing her anxious nature. "Just…I'm worried about father and Sansa."

"So am I. However, we can't let such thoughts distract us. Remember our lessons, focusing on be calm and clear minded no matter the situation."

"Just…just…" She'd grip both hands tightly over her sword. "I just wish I could do something. I know you and others are going to try to save my family. Yet…I can't do anything."

"Being powerless is always a terrible feeling. I've faced it many times before and I'm certain I'll face it time again." Like before he'd place a hand on her shoulder. "You were brave at the Keep. I need you to be brave still in the coming days. Anything can happen, so I need you alert for any trouble."

It took the girl a moment to compose herself, glancing up into the Witcher's cat like eyes. "I will. Just…promise me you'll get father and Sansa back."

"Promise." Shifting back, he'd look to Syrio and Davos who had moved to the doorway of another room. Giving a final nod to Arya, he'd move to join them in a small meeting room.

"You handled that well. The girl is troubled, through most her age would be a sobbing mess." The duelist remarked as they all sat down around a table.

"Can't imagine what's going through her mind, fearing for her family." Davos muttered in agreement. "Right now, the odds are against us. The city is on high alert and the Watch will surely set bounties for everyone who escaped."

"Any news about Lord Beric or Thoros?" Geralt questioned.

"Only they we're last seen outside the gates of the Red Keep with a score of fifty men. They forced out of the yard before reinforcements broke their ranks. They are no doubt spread out across all of King's Landing."

"Then that's our first course of action, regrouping. Gathering up Thoros, Beric and the other Stark loyalists will at least improve our defenses."

"Aye. I send my men out to search about, use some of my contacts as well. May take a few days though to avoid drawing attention."

"Have to rely on the fact Cersei thinks we're divided and weak. She'll no doubt focus the Watch on the exits out of the city instead of searching every inch of the city."

"Let us hope so. If that woman didn't fear you before she does now. She will surely act more unpredictable." Syrio remarked.

"Then let's hope Lord Tywin reins her in slightly. Doubt he will be thrilled once he learned what happened at the court."

"Surely he will support his daughter in the end."

"Maybe…course he knows the crisis that will happen if any harm comes to Eddard or his daughters. No point in winning the Iron Throne if half of the Kingdoms turn against you."

"Whatever the case, you two best rest while I handle things. I'll be sure to update you on any news and rumors that come around." Davos shifted out of his seat, moving towards the door to leave.

Geralt gave a tired sigh as he'd rub one hand over his face, stroking over the growing scruff across his chin. "Can't believe all of this happened still. Fate must really have a sick sense humor to force me into situations like this."

"You've been through this before?" Syrio curiously questioned.

"Long story…one I'm too tired to share." Shrugging his swords off his back, he'd set them on the table while he'd lean back. "I need to rest. Have some time to myself…if you don't mind Syrio."

"I understand well my friend. I'll try to keep young Arya distracted in the meantime."

The Witcher only nodded as he'd close his eyes, body feeling drained after using Signs back in the hall. He hated how the growing risks were limited his capabilities. Right now, the last thing he needed was exhausting himself or even knocking himself out in the middle of a fight. He knew another fight was going to rear its ugly head eventually and he needed to be in top form to face it.

…

Three days slowly pasted by, dull yet tense days as Geralt watched Davos men bring in scattered Stark loyalists. Most detailed their difficult battle out of the Red Keep, only to get surrounded by Tywin's soldiers who were returning to the Keep at that moment. Most were captured in that case, leaving only a third of the force remaining.

News was quickly released, mainly the declaration of Joffrey being the next King of the Seven Kings. Then there were the claims of Eddard attempting a coup in a selfish grab for power, using lies of Joffrey being a bastard of Cersei with an unknown individual. Geralt wasn't certain if the Queen had this information leak out from the Court or the gossiping nature of that environment had let such details slip. There was a brief list of co-conspirators released, with the Witcher being listed as the second in command along with having a largest bounty of fifty thousand gold crowns. There was no mention of his Signs, making him assume they either decided to hide the fact his magical nature or perhaps they didn't understand what had happened during the escape from the throne room.

Beyond that, there was no details on the inner workings within the Red Keep, though Geralt assumed Varys would fill him in when the spymaster decided to reveal himself. On the fourth night since Ned's capture, Geralt would sudden heard loud chatter outside in the main common room. He'd quickly head over to find the surviving men gathered around Thoros and Beric, the two men looked dirtied and quite roughed up by the looks of it.

"You crazy bastard!" Thoros laughed out when he saw the Witcher, moving up to firmly shake hands with. "We thought you were going through hell, but here you are lazing around in a dank warehouse."

"Gotten lucky really." Geralt remarked back, a small smirk on his face. "What have you two been through? Heard a lot of mixed rumors, some claims you were dead or had fled the city."

"Hiding out in Flee Bottom." Beric explained. "A few of the locals helped, mainly recognizing Thoros from the tournament. The guards tracked us down, forced us to flee and fight a few times. We were lucky Davos men found us since the bounties put on us were quickly turning the peasants against us."

"Greed is a useful weapon, something the Lannisters use well." Geralt looked between his two companions. "Right now, you two deserve a long rest and wash. You both saved a lot of lives getting your men to spread out through the city."

"Aye…but doesn't change the fact over what happened." Beric muttered grimly. "Its only a matter of time that Cersei and her son put Lord Stark on a public trial and as for Sansa…they no doubt will force her to marry Joffrey to ensure control of the North in the years to come."

"A power grab through force." The Witcher muttered. "So then what do we do now?"

Everyone in the room glanced between each other before all eyes focused on the Witcher, who glanced about as if expecting them to be looking at someone else.

"Wait…surely you're not expecting me to lead everyone? Lord Beric, these are your men after all, and you have an official position considering."

"That is true though relying on my title will do little. I'm a minor lord considering and my influence here in King's Landing is nonexistent now that I'm branded a traitor. Besides I lack any connections within the capital." The nobleman answered back. "When all seemed beak in the throne room, it was your quick planning and skill that got us all out alive."

"Don't look to me Geralt. I know a dozen prayers to the Red God and will fight any man you point me to…but leading has never been a skill of mine." Thoros quickly reacted when Geralt's gaze moved onto him.

The Witcher was silent as he looked over the group, gazes of respect even a bit of awe showing. Everyone must have heard of the daring escape out of the Keep along with the fact he openly insulted Joffrey and Cersei in such a bold manner. Geralt never saw himself as a leader, it wasn't right for a Witcher to take such a role. Yet it had happened time and again.

"For one we need an escape plan from the city. Leaving by land is going to be impossible with such a large group…lucky we have Davos here."

The trader decided to speak up, having been hanging back for most of the conversation. "My ship should be able to sneak everyone out of the city. Will need time to get proper disguises and other arrangements so that we have no trouble slipping away from the capital and to the safety of Dragonstone."

"You think Lord Stannis will let us stay?"

"Of course, he will! Lord Stark put his reputation and life on the line to declare Stannis as the rightful heir. If has second thoughts I will argue for days and nights to change his stubborn mind."

"Heh, good to know." Geralt paused in thought before Thoros spoke up.

"What about Lord Stark and his other daughter? Surely we should plan a rescue or-"

"No."

"What?! You're not suggesting we let that damn witch parade him around and-"

"You're not thinking right Thoros. Cersei may be power hungry but she's not stupid. If Eddard dies, the whole North along with its allies will lash out in vengeance. If we try and free him, we'll only verify him as a traitor even further."

"Just not right to leave him…" The Red Priest grumbled.

Beric put a firm hand on the man's shoulder. "You're sense of loyalty is right, but the approach is wrong. Using force got us into this crisis, we can't make that mistake again."

"Thoros does have one point, we need to be ready for anything. Weapons and armor could help if any surprises come around."

"Sadly I can't simply buy arms and armor for you. Doing so no would surely draw attention to me and possibly expose us." Davos muttered.

With that detail shared, Geralt thought for a moment before an idea came to mind. "May have someone who can help with this…"

…

Tobho Mott stroked his beard as he'd study over the vast pile of notes he had, dozens of arcane studies from both the city of Qohor and runes Geralt had shared with him. On his desk there was also a set of scales which had a mix of different ores set into it, rare materials that the Witcher had also shared.

"So close…everything is making sense now…" The master smith muttered as he'd quickly cross out an equation he had made before redoing it again. "The material quality is right…yet what is wrong with the forging process?"

"Working this late Mott?"

The smith gasped as he'd sit up in his seat, turning about to see Geralt at the doorway. With the darkness surroundings the man shivered seeing those piercing cat eyes staring at him.

"So, is it true what happened?" The man muttered, tense still from being surprised.

"What do you think?"

There was a long pause before Mott relaxed, letting go of a fine dagger he had hidden among the papers. "It makes no sense for a man like you or Lord Eddard to attempt a coup. You're far to honest and direct for such a thing."

"You trust that logic?"

"Could just be my gut instinct…either way I know why you're here. You need my help."

Geralt nodded as he'd move closer, pacing along the nearby displays of fine armor and weapons. "We need supplies. weapons and light armor, simple protection."

"How many?"

"Enough for twenty men."

Mott sighed at the number. "I can do fifteen at least. If I sent for any more then I'd draw attention."

The Witcher knew better then to debate on the matter, knowing the smith was putting a lot on the line by helping. "Then that will have to do. I guess the issue will come to the price…"

"No need. This won't cost you?"

"Why? I can surely-"

Again, Mott spoke up. "You don't understand. Considering everything you have shared with me over the past few months, I feel I'm about to make a discovery of legendary proportions."

"Wait you don't mean…"

Mott gave a wide grin as he'd gesture Geralt closer to the table, showing over his notes. "Your diagrams and materials gave quite key insights on crafting Valyrian Steel. For one the ores needed are rare, though obtainable with the right sources." The man explained. "Magical inscribing was tricky for a while, though the runic designs helped fill in the gaps. This explains why such blades never need sharpening or ever rust."

"Seems like you have everything down."

"So, it would seem…" The smith muttered. "I've already done some trial tests. Took a long while to get most of the steps detailed correct, but despite all of this I haven't had success. I've made some fine weapon, yet still not to the right quality."

"Any idea what is the issue?"

A low chuckle escaped from the master smith. "I guess it's the only logical really. My theory would explain why no one has ever been able to recreate Valyrian Steel. The issue is the heat required to get the right pressure to bind the ores and magical enhancements together. I used my strongest forge with top quality fuel, only leading to failure." A low laugh soon followed. "The heat required be something only a dragon be capable of giving."

There was a long moment of quiet as the news sunk in, Geralt nodded in agreement. "Still doesn't change the fact you've rediscovered one of the world's most desired secrets."

"Aye…and I plan to continue it. It may take time…years…maybe decades, but I will find a way." Again, an amused chuckle. "Perhaps dragons will simply appear once more. Ah that be such a strange twist of fate."

"You never know."

"Indeed." Nodding his head, he'd give a tired sigh before speaking again. "My ramblings aside, is there anything else you need?"

"Yes, in fact." Geralt reached into his leather jacket to take out two pieces of paper, handing it over to Mott. One was a list of items while the other a meeting point for the gear to be delivered to Davos men. "Need some specialized weapons for myself. Feel its time I pick up on some old techniques."

For a long moment Mott read over the list, shaking his head and smirking. "You are a strange fellow Geralt. Quite the unique selection, though nothing beyond what I have. I'll have your new gear and the supplies for your men within a few days." After memorizing what was written, he'd hold both papers by a nearby candle, carefully setting them on fire before dropping them in the candle tray to cinder away.

"Good. You're doing the right thing helping us Mott." Geralt moved away from the desk, seeming ready to leave. "Business aside though, there is one personal matter to talk over."

"Which would be?"

"Gendry."

Mott's face hardened slightly, knowing well what was going on. "If you plan to drag that boy into all of this…" He sternly warned.

"No, if anything I'm concerned about this life. Cersei and Joffrey will no doubt figure out the identities of Robert's bastard offspring. They all have a better claim to the Iron Throne then Joffrey or his siblings. Joffrey is unstable, he may very well try to round up and kill them all in twisted spite."

"I know that." Mott muttered. "So, what do you propose then?"

"Let me take Gendry out of King's Landing. I have a means of leaving the capital unnoticed and he would be safer at Dragonstone with his uncle."

"Heh and you believe Lord Stannis will be accepting of a bastard of his older brother?"

"Has to be a risk I'll take. If needed I'm sure the Starks will accept him into their protection." Looking at Mott, the man seemed hesitant. "If he stays you may very well end up dead as well. Put your duty and pride aside on this matter."

The master smith was silent for a long moment before he'd give a low sigh. "I will make plans then. The boy will be sent along with the shipment of supplies. Yet…" He'd move to stand up, one hand out to the Witcher. "You swear by the Black Goat that you will protect that boy."

Geralt glanced at the man's rough hand before reaching out to grasp it. "I swear to it then." They'd shake on it, yet for a split moment the Witcher swore his wolf medallion trembled slightly on it's chain, making him wonder if the deal had some magical element to it. He didn't question it though as he'd pull away and move for the door out.

"Then be safe Witcher. Dark days are coming…I feel it…" Mott warned as he'd return to his seat.

…

The Witcher made sure his cloak hood was up to cover his white hair and scarred face as he'd slip through the dark alleyways of King's Landing, taking a longer yet discrete route back to Blackwater Harbor. It was difficult to move around even during the late hours of the night, since the Watch was active throughout all hours of the city. Plus, he couldn't risk the citizens from recognizing him for fear of being reported as well.

So far his trip back seemed peaceful enough, yet as he was nearing the harbor he'd heard someone shifting about behind him. He sudden had a feeling that someone had been following him, making the Witcher tense for his steel blade which he gripped at.

"Please relax Geralt. No need to violence." The calm voice of Varys spoke out from the darkness.

When the Witcher glanced over to the man, he'd quickly notice the heavy crossbow in his hands, a powerful enough to pierce through thick plate armor. The spymaster was in plain clothes, blending in like any other laborer in the city. "You're the one pointing a bolt at my back." Geralt calmly countered back.

"Not taking chances right now, not after what I know about you." Varys kept his distance, making sure Geralt couldn't face him. "I saw about what you did in the throne room. The suddenly 'gush of wind' threw everyone about. Sandor was in quite the rage, claiming he knew for months you had some trickery about you."

Geralt remained silent, debating how to handle this. He felt an Axii would stun Varys long enough to 'persuade' him to drop the crossbow, since he knew the weapon this close would be difficult to deflect at such close range. It was obvious the spymaster had planned well for this encounter. His hand shifted from his sword, making Varys speak up again.

"Hands still Witcher. I know your tricks involve gestures of some kind…and that you have some mind affected power as well." The man stated. "Don't be surprised. Lancel and Pycelle seemed quite odd during times I questioned them, having vague memories after chatting with you."

Again, Geralt was caught off guard by how the man had discovered more of his Signs capabilities. While it didn't mean Varys had a full advantage, it was rare for the Witcher to encounter someone so observant, much less in a world lacking in magic. "So, what do you want then? I thought you planned to aid me?"

"It all matters on how our conversation goes. I want answers, the truth about you and your powers." Varys simply answered. "I know your cover story is a lie…a bad one considering. So, if you want my aid you will tell me everything."

Geralt debated if he should refuse or try to fight back. While Varys had the drop on him, he still had his other Signs to catch the man off guard or just use his mutant reflexes to escape. Yet he knew he needed the spymaster's help, no matter how much he disliked the man. "Its going to be a long story considering. It maybe best we leave this alley." He warned.

"No, we will be fine just here. My Little Birds will keep any prying eyes away, so we will have plenty of time to chat." He'd keep his crossbow steady as he spoke, showing he was focused on his task. "So then…care to begin."

Giving a weary sigh, the Witcher nodded. "If that is your price…though I'll doubt you'll believe me once my tale is done…"

…

Hours pass by as Geralt detailed his history along with the events that lead up to his arrival here in Westeros. Varys was patient as he'd listen to every detail, only asking a few questions on a few certain topics, mainly on how Witcher Signs worked.

"Heh…you were right. It is hard to believe much of what you have shared." The chubby man muttered. "It seems your abilities are gifted…little more then a tool of your profession. Not at all like the arcane arts known in Essos."

"Mind if I ask a question of my own?"

Varys paused before shrugging. "Very one. One question."

"Why the distrust towards magic? If anything such skill and knowledge is limited to this world, practically non-existent."

"True…yet that doesn't mean it can bring suffering still. My…condition is because of one man's ambitions to understand the darker arts. A longer tale for another time really."

"So…it's a personal reason." Geralt paused for a moment in thought. "Now then, what do you plan to do now with me?"

"You upheld the end of my request. I will always be on guard with you Witcher, yet your unnatural abilities aside I know your morals and honesty come first." Slowly he'd lower his crossbow, sighing as his arms were no doubt sore from holding it up for so long. "Perhaps we best get down to business. You surely have many questions to ask."

With the weapon no longer pointed at him, Geralt relaxed slightly, stretching a bit since he had been standing about for so long. "Plenty. What is going on within the Red Keep?"

"Chaos really. Lord Stark may be branded a traitor, but his accusations has spread much doubt. Already there are news of ravens arriving to different lordships, detailing about Joffrey and her other children being a bastards from Cersei's infidelity."

"Seems Eddard was wise to do so before hand."

"A cunning plan on his part, though I doubt it will help his case. That aside, Lord Tywin was quite displeased hearing what happened. It is mainly the fact that his daughter ripped up King Robert's last decree. Had she accepted, she'd seem less guilty of the other accusations thrown onto her and her son. Tywin is no fool, he had planned for his family to take the through naturally, yet Cersei was far too impatient considering how recent events have played out. Because of this, Tywin is keeping a close eye on everything she is doing to ensure there is no more incidents."

"A small reprieve it seems, though I know Lord Lannister is far more calculating then his daughter." Pausing, he'd think for a moment before continuing.

"What about Ser Barristan?"

"The Lord Commander…has been dismissed of his duty with the King's Guard."

"What?" Geralt was baffled at the news.

"It is mainly his failure for capturing you. They claim that he has become too old to uphold the duties of Lord Commander. He was given the offer of lordship and promises of luxurious retirement for his long service, yet he took it as an insult." Varys smiled slightly. "You should have seen how he threw off his armor in the court, even threaten all the King's Guard who nearly apprehend him."

"How did Jaime react?" Geralt was curious considering Barristan was the young knight's mentor.

"He was the only one to not to laugh at him or draw his blade against him. In fact, he seemed quite shocked. However he was also promoted as the new Lord Commander, a promotion none are surprised with."

"So what of Barristan then?"

"Simply gone. I am working to track him down, yet a man of his skills knows how to make himself disappear. I'm certain though he remains in the capital, although why I can't be certain."

Nodding, Geralt thought for a moment before continuing. "What of Eddard and Sansa?"

"Lord Stark will be having a trial the day after Joffrey's coronation for the charge of treason and conspiracy. It is certain his fate will be banishment to the Wall, a safe choice to avoid open conflict with the rest of the North." He'd pause before continuing. "As for Sansa, she is planned to wed to Joffrey and remain a political hostage for the Lannisters. If anything she is their trump card in keeping the Stark family in line."

"It all makes sense, just as everyone else had predicted." Geralt muttered. "Then what can we even do? Both are beyond our reach considering."

"Not entirely." Varys stepped closer, taking out a scroll from one pocket which he handed off. Geralt unrolled it to reveal a detailed map of the Great Sept of Baelor along with the streets leading to the Red Keep. There were arrows detailing the routes certain parties were meant to travel, security plans.

Geralt glanced up at Varys, an odd look in his eyes. "What are you suggesting here?"

"Lord Stark's fate is assured, though we cannot let the Lannister's keep Sansa. I cannot let them have a strangle hold over this country." The spymaster stated. "I wouldn't attempt such a bold plan yet knowing your conviction and skills I feel this will work."

Again, he'd study the map, already ideas coming to mind. "This would be risky to do. It could get the others and I killed."

"If you fear the risks I understand. However you know this may be your only chance to steal a full victory from Cersei. I expect an answer now."

The Witcher was silent, hating how he had so little time to decide on this matter. This was a choice that decide the fates of so many, perhaps even the whole country itself. Clenching the scroll tightly, he'd give a low growl before bowing his head slightly. "Yes. This will be the only chance we got to even the odds."

Varys grinned softly, pleased to see the Witcher's fierce edge showing. "Then we best begin Witcher. History is about to be made…"

…