Shardblade

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

"So what does that mean to you Varys?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

********************

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

In the meanwhile Jason couldn't find Kit anymore; the guy just vanished, he would return to Mott every day, bringing along his sword, his armour and the collection of exotic materials. The master smith spend ages examining everything that Jason brought with him, showing a quiet studious nature in the man along with his attention to detail. Satisfying Mott's curiosity once and for all, Jason decided you show his main weapon. A large sword appeared in his hand, covered in droplets.

"This blade is a work of art!" Mott praised as he finished examining the blade much as he had done with the steel sword. "This is beyond Valayrian steel. Magic. Itself unique and magical. Not spell forged that could be mass-produced. Just unique pure magic."

"No two Shardblades are the same, but all Shardblades cut easily through most inanimate matter, so long as the Blade is kept in motion. They do not cut living flesh; instead, the metal fuzzes as it passes through, killing without leaving a mark or spilling blood. The Shardblades sever the soul itself, the only indication of the death being that the victim's eyes burn out. Any part of the body that is cut dies instantly. If the Blade touches a man's spine, he dies, eyes burning. If it cuts through the core of a limb it effectively kills that limb, rendering it permanently limp, numb, and useless. A limb severed by a Shardblade needs to be reattached to the soul before it will function again." Jason remarked.

"Either way this weapon is impressive. There should hardly be a recoil since it will pass through anything. Even Valayrian steel. Who forged this?"

"The best smith I know," Jason answered not revealing that the actual creator of the blade is an all-powerful god. He then de-summoned his weapon breaking the smith's attention.

"By the Black Goat, I must meet this man once. Such lightness. Lighter than Valayrian steel despite its size. It's miraculous."

"Unfortunately, I cannot use the sword in the tournament. It will draw too much attention."

The man nodded and his attention shifted onto Jason's armour, a mix of fine studded leather and dark iron chain pieces. "Now this armour is quite impressive. Leatherwork isn't a craft I work often with yet the material is far tougher. It's also light and flexible, showing the balance of chainmail and leather is evenly balanced."

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

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

"That's a little secret? Can you do your part or not?"

"By the Black Goat, I accept your challenge."

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

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

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

"If you wish it I'd make a whole armoury of gear for you as a payment for what you have shown me. I promise all my work will beyond perfection."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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