Chapter 20: S1-E19: The King's Hunt 1/2

Chapter 19: The King's Hunt

…

Morning seemed to arrive earlier then usually, which Geralt blamed more on perception than anything else. Forcing himself out of his cot, he groaned a bit as the lingering soreness from yesterday kicked in, even though the Swallow had done its job healing his durable body. A quick stretch eased some of the pain away before he'd change into his Witcher armor and begin the process of packing everything up for the return to the Red Keep. Outside he could hear the knights and servants working on preparing to leave, since many would long rides back to their holds, although he was sure a good third would stay at King's Landing to mingle in court politics. Already he wondered if anyone he knew would remain, yet he wouldn't know for sure until later in the day.

Walking out of his tent, he carried off his heavy packs to the nearby stable stands were Roach stood by. Thinking back, he remembered leaving the horse out at the Melee field, so he guessed a squire had brought her back. Of course could be that Roach returned on her own, since the horse had an odd happen of showing up even in the most distant of places. He didn't question it in this case as he slung the bags over the saddle before mounting up and guiding Roach forward, however instead of hurrying for the main road back to the city, he took a detour to the Stark's tent.

As he neared it, he saw Eddard was busy directing his servants with packing everything up while his daughters were waiting close by, seeming quite sleepy having to be up earlier than usual. Arya though snapped to attention when she saw the Witcher, giving an excited grin as he nudged her sister before running towards Geralt.

"Geralt! Are you doing alright after the fight yesterday? I mean…father told me you were fine, and we shouldn't bother you…even though we wanted you over for dinner." The girl remarked quickly.

"Slow down Arya. Chatter that fast and you'll faint." Geralt chuckled.

"Sorry. Just…you beat the Mountain and the King Slay- I mean Ser Jaime. It was so hard to keep up on the last fight, it was amazing how fast you moved at the very end! Jaime was able to match up somehow despite all the odds."

By now Eddard would approach the two, giving a small laugh as he ruffled the girl's hair a bit. "Best remember it well. I doubt you'll ever see a duel as grand as that. Anyway get you pony ready, we'll be heading out soon. You can pester him with questions at your next lesson."

Arya sighed before nodded in agreement. Giving a small wave to Geralt, she hurried off back towards her sister who was already being helped up onto her own horse by a servant. Eddard watched his daughters for a moment before glancing back at the Witcher, a more serious look in his eyes.

"Did Davos tell you everything?"

Geralt simply nodded back as an answer.

"Won't be certain about my theory until this evening. If it is, then the situation in the capital is much more dire then I originally thought."

"We've made it this far. Besides, your authority as the Hand should give us an edge."

"I hope so…because if our influence isn't enough then force will be our only option."

Geralt smirked a bit despite the grim matter. "Thankfully you have me if that comes around."

"Which I'm grateful of. For now, try to relax and build up your favor with Robert. He told me about his plans going out on the hunt which may be a blessing for us." Glancing to his daughters, he gave a soft smile before giving a sigh. "I'll see you back at the Keep, Geralt."

"Take care Ned." The Witcher turn Roach about as he'd ride out ahead, weaving through the maze of tents as he reached the main road. If anything he wanted to get back early to question a certain Maester before the Red Keep was crowded up once more. There was still a few more questions left and this time he wouldn't have anyone intruding like before.

…

The ride though King's Landing was quite active as it seemed like a mob of people were constantly pestering him. Already the news of his victory at the Melee and defeating the two most renowned warriors of the country had spread around. At times he'd hear someone yell out 'Witcher' or 'White Wolf' before a few cheers and friendly laughs followed up. It was odd to hear really, being more use to the spiteful remarks from back home instead of received respect and awe from the commoners.

Hurrying along before he got too much attention, he arrived at the Red Keep's gates and was let inside by the guards. Taking Roach to the stables, he'd grab his packs off the saddle before heading into the Keep from a side entrance, working his way to the guest quarters and his room. Once there, he'd quickly check his storage chest closely to ensure everything from his crafting materials and bombs were accounted for, knowing very well the risks of any of these items being stolen. It was a long process, yet it seemed nothing was missing after a detailed search. With that matter cleared, he gathered a few herbs and vials before going to the nearby worktable he had set up to begin making some fresh Swallow. After using up a dose yesterday, he wanted to make sure he was fully stocked for any emergencies. Perhaps it was a bit over cautious, but such steps had saved his life many times. It only took a few minutes considering the simplicity of the potion, which he packed away in the chest along with his silver blade.

"Now then…to visit the Maester." He muttered to himself before leaving the room, ensuring it was locked up securely.

From what he learned, the Maester laboratory was in the lower parts of the Red Keep, close to the cellars and the dungeons. It was a winding walk to the depths of the Keep, following familiar smells of alchemy oils and dusty parchment that hinted the air. Arriving at a sturdy doorway, he'd hear shuffling and the rattle of chains as Pycelle was no doubt busy working about in the next room. Giving a strong knock at the door, there'd be a small surprise gasp before the old man spoke out.

"Who is it?"

"It's Geralt, Grand Maester. I'm here to ask some more questions." He spoke out through the door.

There was a long pause before the Witcher heard the man approach the door and undo quite a number of locks to open it up. Once the door swung open, Geralt stepped through while Pycelle backed away, going down a small number of steps that lead down into the laboratory work space. It was an impressive set up, having top quality alchemical devices and a wide mix of crafting tools.

"Eh…I thought we already finished our questioning Witcher." The Maester muttered as he returned to an alembic which was connected to a retort, carefully monitoring the flow of fluids and the temperature from a nearby flame. "Ah and…congratulations on your victory at the Melee. An uhh…impressive display indeed. You at least gave the uh…other Maesters a chance to practice their m-medical skills, especially in Gregor's case."

"I take he needed some special treatment?"

"Obviously! Man may be f-freakishly strong, but even he…uhh…has limits. The muscle damage alone required serious surgery to mend. Very experimental work considering the lack of...living cases. Time will tell if the work is successful though."

"Enlightening. However I'd prefer we stay on topic." Geralt paced around the lab, eyeing a few dried insect and plant samples in pressed displays. "Few days back I asked you about Jon Arryn's death. You confirmed his passing wasn't natural but from a rare poison."

"Ah yes…I remember that much. Tears of Lys." The Maester said with a small nod.

"You mentioned that some of it was missing before. Care to explain?"

The mention had a confused look cross the old man's face, no doubt his memory on that matter being muddled because of the Axii Sign forcing him to speak. "Odd. I can't say I remember mentioning that."

"Well you did…unless you claim otherwise." The Witcher's yellow eyes stared at the man in a judging manner, making the Maester shift nervously.

"Of c-course not! Look the matter is very troubling…if news got out of s-such a poison being loose in the Keep, there would have been a panic."

"That is understandable but doesn't change the fact Jon died because of it. Surely you have suspects, someone who asked about the Tears or knew about them."

Pycelle was silent as he'd think for a long moment. "Lord Baelish would know because any royal gifts such as the Tears would be cataloged in the treasury records. The Queen and King obvious k-know of it too. Lord Jon also knew of it, even asked to have the poison…d-deposed of for safety reasons."

"Ironic. Anyone else?'

The Maester paused, before giving an odd look. "I do remember one strange visitor. Jon Arryn's wife visited at least once. Friendly if skittish woman really."

"His wife?" Admittedly Geralt hadn't heard much of the woman, except she was Catelyn's sister and now the current ruler of the Eyrie now that her husband was dead. "Let me guess, she asked about poisons."

"Indeed. Claim she was worried her son ate something bad, some herb in the garden one day. She went on and on about it, asking if anything I had could be a cause. I guess at one point I mentioned the Tears, yet the conversation was a while back."

"So let's say she did steal it…how would she do it?"

"Eh…most likely with her husband's key. The Hand of the King has access to poisons, of course after clearing the matter with me. I didn't get a chance to inform Jon Arryn of the theft before his rapid decline in health. Man could barely think clearly under the f-fever he had."

"Yet he didn't report his key missing?"

"None. Again…uhh…many uncertainties."

"Indeed. So then if his wife…uhh…what is her name?"

"Lady Lysa, Ser."

"What happened to Lysa during those last few weeks?"

"Ah…I can't say for sure. I only know she left right after his death, taking her umm…only son, Robin, with her. Woman was very protective of the boy."

"Was anyone close to here? Anyone among the royalty or servants"

"The closest be Queen Cersei I'd think. The two c-chatted at times, over what I know little of."

Geralt sighed, wondering how he'd get any answers from the Queen considering her new found dislike towards him. He'd have to be careful with her, considering she may very well have had a hand in Jon's passing, considering her fear about the investigation. "Very well. Thank you for your time Maester." He'd give a short nod before moving to leave the lab.

"Of course…take care of yourself Ser Geralt." The Maester muttered, yet as the Witcher left he did notice the old man's calculating look just as he passed through the door. He had a feeling the old man was far more cunning then how he appeared. For now though, he decided to return to the upper floors to see if anyone else had returned from the tournament grounds.

…

Geralt headed to the main dining hall, hoping to get some food and run into anyone from the tourney. Entering the hall he'd quickly hear a familiar booming voice speaking out, making him glance around to see Thoros sitting at a table with Loras, chatting over a late breakfast. The young knight seemed a bit intimidated by the priest considering his nervous look, though their conversation seemed friendly enough.

"Come on, stop acting so meek boy! Have a little pride you faced against Jaime and survived the Mountain." The Red Priest chuckled.

"I know that, yet it feels lowly that I'm renowned for surviving such battles. I'd prefer to remembered for win them instead." The young knight muttered back.

"Winning isn't everything Ser Loras." Geralt added as he'd move to an empty seat, drawing a surprised and friendly looks from both men. Picking out a bit of bread and cooked beef, the Witcher took a few bites before continuing to speak. "From what I heard you at least matched up well against Jaime. Considering what he's capable, I'm impressed you lasted that long against him."

"Heh, I'll accept that praise from you Witcher." Loras chuckled. "Wish I had just a fraction of your experience though. Perhaps I would have bested him."

"That battle was indeed grand!" Thoros laughed out. "Young vs the old. Natural talent against aged experience. Kingslayer may be a cocky young man, but I think your duel knocked a little sense into him. Time and trials will tamper him into a flawless warrior for sure."

Geralt nodded in agreement. "So I'm curious, why are you still around Loras? Thought you'd be returning to Highgarden."

"A mix of personal and political reasons mainly. After all, still chances for new alliances to be made at the Red Keep."

"Of course." Geralt did remember that Loras and Renly seemed to be close, no doubt one reason for the Tyrell remaining in the capital. "What about you Thoros? Planning on roaming across the Kingdoms soon?"

"Nah…plan to stay as long as you are."

"Really? Why is that?"

"Why? Because of fate! Yesterday was proof of that with the Lord of Light's blessing!"

"Surely you're jesting Thoros. I'll admit the flaming sword was a neat trick, even more considering it wasn't wildfire." Loras remarked.

"Was no trick! It was real faith being proven right there! It was like what my visions showed…well…vaguely."

Geralt was indeed curious about what had happened, considering that fire was indeed magically summoned if his medallion's vibrating was proof enough. "Maybe…so this vision you had. Can you do it again?"

"It's not something I just do. There has to be a…timing to it all." The priest muttered. "Yet I check the flames every night now, trying to gleam another vision. So far I know that you are the focus of them, showing that you're key to the Lord's plans."

The Witcher didn't remark at the priest's claim, not fully agreeing of a 'god' pulling the strings. Still he couldn't deny there was some power stirring in the man, be it his own will or something beyond. "Well if you get any visions just tell me. I'm at least curious to know."

"Of course! May be hope yet that you'll see the Lord's light just yet!"

Loras sighed, seeming baffled by all of this. "As interesting as this may be, I feel I must excuse myself. I need to check up on someone." The young knight got up from his seat and walk out of the hall, leaving Geralt with Thoros.

"Have to say I should be moving on as well. Need to see if the King and Queen has returned by now." Geralt remarked to Thoros

"Should be soon. They were just about finished packing when we headed off." The red priest answered back. "I know Robert invited you on a hunt. Been on my fair share and can say the man is quite the talented one despite his lack of fitness. Maybe he'll show you a trick or two."

"I'll be observant. Take care for now Thoros." Geralt moved to get out of his seat before heading for the exit that lead towards the main entrance to the keep and throne room, expecting he may run into the royal family there.

"You too Witcher!" Thoros chuckled out before he'd quickly continued finishing breakfast.

…

Arriving at the entrance hall, Geralt slowed his pace when he heard the voice of Joffrey echoing ahead, seeming to be speaking with someone. Hanging back by an archway, he could see the blond haired prince was speaking to Sandor who seemed quite groggy eyed, no doubt from a long night drinking by his disheveled look. It seemed the prince was quite annoyed towards the tall warrior with how he spoke.

"Hound! Can you explain to me why you arrived here so late? For a bodyguard you seem to be slacking of late, leaving the job for the Gold Cloaks." The boy grumbled.

Sandor looked at the boy, his eyes having a dull look to them. "Got caught up in the festivities sire."

"More like mellowing. I heard how you hid away with half a cast of ale to yourself, dull yourself over your defeat at the Melee.." Joffrey sneered a bit. "No doubt angry you lost your chance for revenge? The White Wolf made quick work of the Mountain after all…"

Already Geralt could see Sandor tensing, one armored hand clenching as his hanged over state made his patience quite thin to Joffrey's insults. It seemed like he was about to strike at the boy, so the Witcher stepped forward into view, making Sandor relax his grip as Joffrey's attention focused on Geralt.

"Ah the hero of the Melee, the fierce White Wolf! You made my name day tourney seem childish with how you bested nearly half the competition, even outmatching my uncle. I hope one day you two will have a rematch, perhaps on my royal coronation."

"May not be staying in Westeros that long sire, still a generous offer."

Joffrey sighed in a hint of frustration. "Quite the shame." Yet before the prince could say anything else, more footsteps could be heard as others entered the hall through the main doors. Everyone glanced over to see Cersei, dressed in a lavish red and gold trimmed dress with her younger son and daughter following close beside her. When she saw the Witcher there was a hint of surprise at first before those eyes narrowed sharply, distain showing for a short moment. Following close behind her was one of the King's Guard and two city watch, her escorts from the tourney grounds.

Still he'd give a short respectful bow to her. "Good morning your majesty." Glancing to her children at her side, he gave a small smile to them. "And to you as well lord and lady."

The kids giggled and muttered at his friendly greeting, although Cersei seemed to keep herself close to them as if to ward away the Witcher. "You are here earlier than expected Ser Geralt."

"Wanted to return as soon as possible before the streets go crowded. Have earned quite the reputation after yesterday, which does draw unwanted attention." Pausing though, he'd continue to speak. "The tournament aside though, there is a certain matter I wish to question you about Jon Arryn's wife, Lady Lysa."

There was a curious and cautious look in Cersei's eyes at the mention of the other woman. "I take this involves her husband's death?"

"She's become a prime suspect after I questioned Grand Maester Pycelle. Considering what I've learned and the fact she left the Keep soon after her husband's death, a quite suspicious move considering. He told me you and she chatted often, so perhaps you can shed a little light about her during that time."

Cersei was silent as she'd look to her children who'd approach Joffrey, the prince seeming to be chatting with his younger brother, seeming to be telling a grand story from how he gestured about. The King's Guard and the Gold Cloaks stood by dutiful, watching the children while the Hound stepped aside, leaning against a nearby pillar to rest a bit.

"Ser Trant." The gold armored knight looked at the queen. "Would you escort Tommen and Myrcella to the tutor's room? I have a small matter to discuss with Ser Geralt."

"As you wish your grace." The gruff knight answered back with a short bow, organizing the children together who'd wave goodbye to their mother as they'd be led away.

The queen's gaze shifted to her eldest son, who'd see the silent command in her sharp eyes. Glancing away, he'd give a nod to both her and the Witcher before muttering something to the Hound. Both hurried off as well, heading down the corridor leading to the dining hall to get an early lunch.

With a gesture, Cersei lead the way down a side hall that took a more scenic route through the Red Keep, mainly along an open hallway with a fine view of the vast gardens and the sea. Of course the two guards followed them, hanging back to not overhear while watch the two closely.

"Lysa and I didn't talk as often as you've heard." The queen muttered to the Witcher as they strolled along. "Always it was about family…both of ours. Lysa long has had a troubling history of baring stillborns which is why she was so protective of her son Robert, being her only living son. He is sickly boy, yet deeply cared for by both is parents. Jon however planned to have him sent off to be a lord's ward, begin a more proactive training and gain firsthand experience, hoping it would improve the boy's health."

"Not uncommon. It is meant to be a show of trust and alliance to do so." Geralt remarked.

"Indeed. Jon had chosen my father to care for his son, a fitting choice since both men held the highest respect for each other. However Lysa was shocked at the news, being quick to approach me and begging that I convince my father to refuse, even though there be little I could do to dissuade him."

"She was that hysteric?"

"The woman was paranoid really. I'm surprised she shared such personal thoughts with me…perhaps it was out of desperation or some faint affinity for us being mothers."

"Do you think she'd go as far as to poison her own husband?" He'd question before the woman stopped, turning to face out at the beautiful sea.

For a while Cersei didn't answer as she'd leaned against the carved stone railing, making Geralt wonder if she was trying to ignore him. "Tell me…how far would you go to protect your child? I know you have an adopted daughter, the one who you are looking for." Glancing at him, a small smirk hinted her lips as he saw the serious look hinting his yellow eyes. "How far would you go to protect her, even if it meant hurting others?"

"If needed. I've fought and killed those who'd threaten Ciri or myself, but never went as far to harm innocents."

"Yet in the end someone will get caught up or the lines between enemy and innocent become blur. As a man who's seen much of the world you must understand that at least." She'd pause, letting those words sink in while Geralt kept that calm if intimidating stare at her. "I do believe Lysa could have poisoned her husband just to keep her son at her side, the only place she considers safe."

"May have to ask your husband to call her to the court for questioning." He'd shift back, seeming to be done talking with her. "Thank you for your time your grace."

"Of course Geralt, anything to help you find the truth." She answered back formally.

As he moved away to head back down the hall, he paused as a thought came to mind. He still had some suspicions about the queen, mainly relating to her children after what he had overheard between her and Pycelle. It was risky to do this considering what she had said to her father, yet perhaps a little pressure would give some clues.

"One other thing…you're children really have quite the resemblance." He suddenly remarked, his tone casual towards her.

While her back was toward him, he'd notice her form tense lightly, the hand on the stone railing gripping it tightly for a short moment. "In what way do you mean?" She'd muttered back, her voice having a cold demanding tone to it.

"They all seem to take after you. Gold hair and such. Joffrey though has his father's fierce spirit, something that he should discipline more considering his aggressive behavior."

Cersei paused for a long moment, yet Geralt could see how her nails lightly scrapped along the stone in a growing sign of anger. "He is my son and I'll continue to rise him as I see fit." She calmly stated.

"Of course. I didn't mean to imply your grace." The Witcher gave a small bow. "Anyway I've taken enough of your time…farewell." He'd continue on his way, looking back to see the woman shaking a bit where she stood in a mix of fear and rage. There was no doubt now, Cersei was guarding something about her children just like Jon Arryn had suspected. It all came down to children, Gendry and whatever hunch Ned had.

"Still a lot of daylight ahead…better wait till nightfall." He'd head for his room, feeling a few hours of extra sleep would be a good way to pass the time before meeting with the Hand of the King.

...

Geralt crept through the Red Keep as night had settled in, leaving the corridors empty except for the odd guard patrolling around. While he had no worry of getting into trouble with the Watch, he preferred to be discreet with meeting Eddard. Soon he'd reach the doors that lead to the Hand's Tower, the private quarters and study for Lord Stark. A pair of northern guards, men brought along from Winterfell watched the doors, both giving respectful nods to the Witcher as he'd pass by.

The first floor seemed to be a mix of lodge and small dining area for private gatherings. More Northerners were sitting or standing about, at least over half a dozen from Geralt's count. By the spiral stairway leading up, Geralt recognized Jory, the Stark's captain of the guard. He hadn't seen much of the man since moving into the Red Keep, though he knew the captain was a dutiful and loyal individual.

"Evening Geralt. Lord Eddard is expecting you on the top floor." He'd gesture to the stairs taking the lead leading upward.

"A lot of security. What's going on?"

"A precaution. Lord Stark will explain."

They'd pass the second floor which seemed to be guest area, having a small sitting place which had a hallway leading out to smaller rooms. One guard was sitting back in one chair, seeming to be keeping an eye on the separate room doors. "Eddard's daughters have been moved in here for now. Sansa was frustrated at first, but she had settled down. Still, we're being mindful of their safety." Jory remarked.

The third floor was much like the last, yet it only had one separate room. Geralt guessed this was Ned's bedchambers. Soon they'd reach the top floor, the study which like the last two had an antechamber that lead into the secured office. Jory knocked at the door in a certain pattern before someone within spoke out. The captain of the guard opened the door for the Witcher, revealing Stark's office. It was much like the study in Winterfell, although a bit bigger and having a balcony that gave a fine view of the ocean and King's Landing. Behind the massive oaken desk sat Eddard, who was busy writing up a letter, one of many that was piling up. Finishing the letter, Ned sighed as he'd set his quill down before glancing up at Jory and Geralt, a tired and serious look in his eyes.

"Thank you Jory. You can go now." Eddard muttered.

The captain nodded as he'd turn to leave, closing the heavy door behind him, leaving Geralt and Ned alone now.

Neither Geralt nor Ned said anything for the moment as the Northern lord worked on getting the last letter folded and closed with a seal. The Witcher paced around the office, eyeing a few books as he waited.

"So what are you planning Ned? Added guards show you're prepared for trouble…and I can see a few of those letters have a few powerful names on them." Geralt calmly stated.

Ned set the letter on top of the pile before he'd shift up to stand, stepping around the desk. "A backup plan if trouble arises. If what I've deduced is true then we'll need all the support we can get." He'd gesture Geralt to come closer, one hand resting on a thick tome with quite the long title.

"'The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms'. Davos mentioned you found a book that Jon had been researching into."

"Yes. This was buried under a lot of older tomes and records Jon had collected. I think with what strength he had, he deliberately hid it away as some kind of clue." He'd flip open the book where a bookmark was set, the chapter being on the Baratheon family. All across the page it detailed marriages and short descriptions on each member of the family. Throughout it there were small markings and circles made, mainly over the details on male descendants of the Baratheon line. "Take a look."

Geralt studied the book and the markings, yellow eyes scanning page after page, noticing quickly a common quality among the men of the family. "All have black hair. It makes sense…dominate heredity trait" Looking closely he'd even see how past unions with Lannsters continued with the black-haired appearance.

"Exactly. It is the reason why Jon looked into Robert's bastards within King's Landing, to get physical proof of this." Ned remarked. "It means that Joffrey isn't Robert's true son, but a bastard child that Cersei has bared with someone else."

The Witcher paused as he'd shut the book close. "That mean Lord Stannis be next in line unless Gendry or elder son is legitimized by the King's command." He muttered. "So now it comes down to who's the father of Cersei's three children."

"From the look in your eyes I can tell you have some ideas."

"Yes…and if it's true it makes matters a lot worse." The Witcher paced around the desk, gaze set on those sealed letters. "It's Jaime. It's the only logical explanation."

A hint of surprise and shock showed on Ned's face. "That is…a serious claim."

"Yet the most likely. If anything it's quite obvious if you look close enough." His piercing yellow eyes glanced right at Eddard. "They share more than just simple sibling bond. Just the subtle hints during the tourney are proof of that. Besides the children are nearly a splitting image of him and her. Give Joffrey a few more years and I'll bet he'll look a lot like Jaime when he was that young."

Ned took a deep breath, a troubled look showing across his face. "Bad enough to be born as bastards…yet products of incest." He'd pause as he'd rub one hand across his face and down his breaded chin. "If this is true…"

"If Robert learns of this who knows what he'll do. At best he'll disown them and have the Lannister's disgraced. Worse case…kill them all. Start a whole new war with all of the Westernlands."

Ned nodded slowly, a grim look in his eyes. "I know. This is a deception that he will not stand for."

"So how do we handle this? One factor we have to think over is with Lord Tywin himself."

"Why is that?"

"I doubt he knows about Joffrey's or the other children's true parentage. The man values his family's reputation about all else and the act of incest would be damning towards it."

"True, yet he values family just as much. He'll no doubt try to discredit the claims and still defend his children from the King's justice."

Eddard gave a small nervous chuckle. "Seems we're in quite the corner then. A disturbing conspiracy with no simple solution."

Geralt was silent for a long moment, looking at Eddard with a calm gaze. "Ned…you know that if Cersei and Jaime are together, it's logical that he was with her at the tower in Winterfell."

Lord Stark nodded, glace looking down at the table as one hand rapped against the strong wood firmly. The Witcher could sense the building anger from the man as he struggled to keep himself composed. Even Geralt felt a stirring fury too, wondering how Jaime could act so normally in front of them, even during the moments discussing about the boy.

"I know…I'd like nothing more than to make them pay for what happened to my son." He'd take a shaky sigh before looking up. "Yet it will be through proper means…through the law and courts. We have to approach this carefully, else we will have a repeat of the Rebellion like decades ago."

"So any ideas then?"

Ned thought for a moment. "We could approach Cersei. As much as I hate the idea we can blackmail her with the information, give her a chance to flee King's Landing with her family. At the least that will give us time to calm Robert down with the news of her incestuous infidelity without having any senseless bloodshed."

"Ned, that woman's ego and desire for power won't have her back down. If you threaten her like that she will lash out and we both know she has powerful allies to back her up."

"Which is why we will be ready in force to. I have been gathering up my men and trustworthy knights, people who are loyal to the Baratheons and the King. In turn you have allies to look to, men like Thoros and Loras Tyrell who both respect you."

"Thoros be a good choice, he's a friend to the king after all. Yet Loras I don't think we should involve. He may be famous for his prowess, but he seems to have little political standing with him family and here." He'd shake his head though. "Coup like that is too risky. We can easily be seen as the aggressors and be blamed for outright rebellion and treason."

"A fair point..." Ned thought for a moment, an idea coming to mind. "Robert hunt, I know he's invited you to it. You'd be away from the capital and any prying spies. Being that far out will give him time to calm down over this shocking news and you to reason with him."

"Still a gamble."

"Yet his authority would be the swiftest and just way to settle this matter."

For a while Geralt was quiet, thinking over everything. He hated how limited and risky this was becoming. No doubt Ned understood that which was why he was pushing for more official actions."

"Fine I'll do it." He muttered back. "Yet be ready for anything when we do come back."

"I pray that we will be prepared for this. You still have a few days until the hunt, give us time to think over how to handle this. For now we just follow our usual duties…"

The Witcher nodded in agreement. "Then we play our parts." He'd turnabout for the door, feeling there was nothing left to say. For once he felt goodbye wasn't fitting for this moment and it seemed Ned agreed from the look on his face.

"Aye…that we do."

Passing through the heavy door out of the office, it slam shut as events were now set, reaching a point of no return.

…

The next few days Geralt focused on his usual routine throughout the Red Keep. He did spend more time training Arya along with Syrio, honing her dueling skills at double the pace. If anything the girl seemed more focused after the tournament, wanting to accomplish the same feats the Witcher had done. Again she shared the same spirit Ciri had, which in turned improved his own mood with the difficult times coming ahead.

Soon the day of the hunt arrived and Geralt made sure to prepare himself. He knew they'd be heading off to the Kingswood, a vast forest to the south which was used as the royal hunting grounds. It was within a day's ride, yet from what the page had told him Robert wished to stay within the woods for at least a night and day.

Donning his Witcher armor and swords along his hand crossbow and quiver. He'd pack away a selection of bombs and potions, basic ones for any emergencies. It was good to be more equip beyond just his swords though he hoped he wouldn't have to use his more exotic tools. Fully packed for the trip, he'd make his way for the courtyard where the gathering party would be. Making his way for the main hall, Geralt slowed as he'd see King Robert, Renly and the whole King's Guard leaving out the throne room, Barristan chatting beside his Lord while Jaime followed close behind.

Robert and Renly were both dressed for travel, having traded their more regal clothes for fine sturdy leathers. It was perhaps the first time Geralt had seen the two dressed so normally considering their high positions in the court.

The Jaime seemed to have recovered from his injuries as he stood tall in his golden armor. The right side of his face was healing well, still covered by a bandage with edges of the injury showing smooth scarring. It no doubt take a month to see how it look although Geralt could tell it leave a clear mark in the end.

Approaching the group, everyone's attention shifted to the Witcher, Robert giving a big grin seeing how well armed the man was. "Hah! So is this how you usually look when you go on a hunt?"

"Usually my prey are fiercer then stags and boars." Geralt simply answered back.

"Going to have to tell me more of these 'monsters' you hunt in your country, they must be quite the challenge to require such weapons." Looking to Renly and Barristan, he'd nod for the doors. "Anyway day light is burning. Sun may be low now, yet I want to be in the Kingswood and camp set before midday!"

The group moved out to leave, rest of the King's Guard going their separate ways since their Commander was going to be watching Robert on this occasion. However Geralt quickly noticed Jaime remained behind, making the Witcher stop following after Robert's group.

Looking at the young knight, Geralt remembered that this was the man who had crippled Bran, who put all these events into motion. Despite it all he felt a strange confliction, there was lingering respect that he couldn't deny after their battle days ago. It was frustrating really, but he kept composed as he showed no real emotion on his face as he approached Jaime.

"Doing alright?"

Jaime smirked at the remark, nodding his head as one hand touched his bandaged cheek. "Humbled really. I can say this was the first duel where I truly met my match despite all my plans and efforts."

"You were well prepared, something most don't do when facing a difficult opponent." Geralt answered back. "You pushed he further than most, an accomplishment that you should be proud of."

"Sounds like worthy praise when you put it that way. Guess I can say I was the man who nearly bested the White Wolf."

Geralt couldn't help but chuckle at the man's jesting tone. "At least you'll never forget with that scar. Trust me, I never do with the ones I've earned."

Jaime nodded, an amused smile on his face, though for a moment the Witcher could see an odd hint in the man's eyes. It seemed to be…guilt, just the small way his gaze shifted away from the Witcher. "One day I hope we will battle again. You've given me a lot to think about…" He'd offer one up hand to shake, making Geralt gaze downward.

For a moment the Witcher hesitated from his conflicting emotions. Jaime could tell something was wrong as he noted Geralt stance becoming tense, a questioning look showing on the knight's face. However a booming voice from the grand doorway called out, snapping both men to attention.

"Enough chatting Geralt! Hurry up or I'll have you dragged all the way to the woods!" Robert yelled out.

With the tension broken, Geralt relaxed as he turned away from Jaime to face the doorway to the courtyard. "I best go, rather not frustrate the King so early in the day."

There was still a troubled look on the knight's face as he nod in agreement. "True…keep a close eye on him Witcher." Jaime gave a short respectful nod before stepping away, only to suddenly stop to speak a bit more. "When you return there is something I want to tell you. Something I feel you should know…"

Already the Witcher had an idea what Jaime meant, but didn't say anything back as he let the Lannister march off down one hallway. Taking a low breath to calm himself, Geralt headed out to the courtyard were everyone else was waiting. There was a small group of servants, Lancel being among them, were set on wagon packed with camping and hunting supplies, along with a couple guards for added protection. Nearby, Roach was being handled by a squire who handed the reins to the Witcher so he could mount up. Robert glanced over the gathering party before gesturing towards the gates.

"Forward! To the King's Gate to the south. Guards make sure the morning crowd doesn't slow us down. Want to give the people a good show without them hindering us."

The ride through the city went by smoothly as the royal hunting party with only a small crowd paying much attention to them. Robert kept the group going, waving to a few people who called out to him while the guards kept anyone from getting in the way. At times though someone spoke out for Renly and Geralt, more often his nick name the White Wolf. Renly would give a charming smile to those who called for his attention, although the Witcher wasn't as active as he'd give a small nod or glance to the onlookers.

Soon they reached the King's Gate which was the simplest looking of the city entrances when compared to the others, making him guess it was one of the original gateways into the city. The party continued southward, crossing a wide stone bridge of the King's Road that stretched over the wide Blackwater Rush. Robert would be chatting with his younger brother for a while, giving a deep chuckle as Renly gave an annoyed look before slowing his horse to stop riding alongside the King.

"Sibling differences I take?" Geralt questioned as he neared Renly.

"More of his boasting nature. It's tiring to keep hearing him praise about his accomplishments during the Rebellion and all his hunts. If anything it's a bit sad…"

"Him clinging to the glory days. I've seen it before. Still he seems to have kept peace well enough despite the debt that has built up behind the scenes."

Renly nodded. "He and I may have different views on many matters when it comes to running the country. I give advice and in turn hope he uses it. I only wish Joffrey won't be next in line though…if anything the traditional line of succession is outdated."

"That is a bold thought to share." Geralt remarked, curious at what the young noble was saying.

"You're not an ordinary individual Geralt, you are far more open minded then most. Surely you agree that a leader should be chosen by merit and favored by the small folk? Too often have we handed the role of ruler to a madman or warmonger, only because they were born to the founding family. Aerys is such an example, a decent king in the early years before madness ruined him."

"All fair points and one I agree. However I doubt such a change will happen anytime soon time."

"Perhaps, yet your approval give me confidence at the least." Renly chuckled. "Many respect you for martial prowess, yet Lord Stark and I see the greater value in your common sense and wisdom."

"Flattering compliments sire."

"You're welcome."

By now the Kingswood was in sight, a vast stretch of dense woodlands that was unlike anything Geralt had seen back home. While Velen had plenty of forest, it was often split apart by roads, swamps and the destruction of war. If monsters existed in this world he was certain these woods would be prime grounds of such creatures to live and breed in, secluded considering how unpopulated the region was around the wide forest. It be an hour of riding until the party reached the woods and half an hour until they had traveled deep enough.

"Far enough! Men, set the camp off the side of the road while the rest of us begin our hunt. Get the skinning table set up first before everything else." Robert ordered as he came to a stop, getting off his horse and handing it off to a servant.

Everyone else did the same, dismounting and letting the servants get the horses safely tied up nearby in a grassy area. Geralt stretched a bit as he'd watch the camp quickly get set up as the cart was unloaded before focusing on the rest of the royal party.

Already Robert and Renly was handed boar spears before the King spoke out. "Let's see what we can catch today. Witcher, I'd like you at my side, want to see your famous tracking skills up close."

Geralt guessed Ned must have shared the story of how he deduced the events of the dead direwolf and stag. "As you wish your grace." Moving up Lancel offer up a board spear to him, shaking his head as he refused the weapon.

The group began their march away from the camp, taking a side trail leading deeper into the woods. Geralt was close beside Robert while Renly followed just behind, while Barristan and Lancel was at the back, carrying extra supplies for everyone.

"So Geralt, tell me about the beasts you hunt, these monsters you slay."

"Can say most aren't like your usual beasts sire. One of the fiercest creatures has always been a chort or their larger cousins the fiends."

"What are they like?"

Geralt paused to think for a moment before answering. "Imagine a beast the size rivaling carriage with the thick muscular body that could crush a bear. Claws on the front end and solid hooves on the back. Head is like a goat or warped stag often with the accustomed horns for the type. Oddest feature is a third eye that many claim can hypnotize others, although it's just superstition."

Robert gaze quite the puzzled look before grinning and chuckling. "Heh, if such beasts exist back home I can see why they trained men like you. Sounds a lot like the things rumor live in Essos really." The man sighed as he'd shake his head a bit. "Wish I could have gone off to see such things...be a thrill to hunt a creature like that!"

"I'd be hesitant on that sire. Seen even a juvenile chort kill half of an experienced hunting party before they took it down."

"Well lucky I'm no ordinary hunter." Robert jested back. "You do live the life Geralt, traveling across the world, hunting and fighting along the way. If war had never happened I'd probably have done the same."

Lancel suddenly moved up to the two with a heavy waterskin, speaking up to just interrupt. "Wine your grace?"

"Aye. Always good to have a drink early in the hunt." The man chuckled as he took a deep drink from it before offering some to Geralt.

The Witcher didn't refuse, if anything he needed something to help relax during the trek. Taking a sip, he recognized the taste of the drink being the same strong wine Robert had shared back at his tent during the tournament. Handing the skin back, Lancel retreat back to the back of the line before Robert spoke up.

"Slow down…think I see something."