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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
|Word Count: 7,143|
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧. He took this time to distance himself from Eddard, although the Northern lord seemed to be busy with preparations for King Robert's arrival. He'd also go to the blacksmith and fletcher with the blueprints for one of the more basic crossbows he had on hand with a few additions on his part, making it a personalized weapon for Bran.
Geralt intensified his duels with Jon, Robb, and Theon as he pushed them to their limits. None of them had landed a blow on him, yet whenever the three sparred against even the most trained Stark soldiers they easily outmatched them. It was strange training them like this, making him wonder if Vesemir's training habits had rubbed off onto him. Theon continued to be troublesome ever since he had shoved the Iron Islander during the discovery of the dire wolves. Despite all his skill he still suffered from his overconfidence and arrogance. Still, Robb and Jon seemed to balance him out whenever they were all together for training.
He also helped the Stark family with their dire wolves, who were already the size of small dogs in the short time the Stark's had taken them in. They were eating their weight in meat which explained their constant rapid growth. Mainly he focused on this time to stay around Arya and Sansa, since they didn't understand how to handle and train such animals. The eldest female Stark had been wary of him, yet he kept a formalness around her that won her over slightly. He guessed she got that from her mother, who while polite always had a judging manner about her. She had learned about his crossbow and sword practice with Bran, something she didn't seem pleased with. Maybe she preferred Rodrik in tutoring her son, yet the old master-at-arms had shown no issue on the matter. He knew Catelyn cared for her children, yet she was being overly controlling with them.
...
Late into the week, Geralt had decided to take a break from his usual duties and have some time by himself. He decided to go to the Godswood, having gotten permission despite his last argument with Ned. It was good at least that Eddard wasn't a vindictive man, since Geralt felt if he had acted in such a way to any ruler back home, he'd be thrown out or tossed in a jail cell...that is if they could force him into one. If anything he wanted to go to the clearing he and Eddard had talked at to examine the Weirwood tree. Finding it, he'd walk closer to the red-leafed tree, one hand touched the ancient white bark. Being up close, his medallion did lightly pulse, yet it was very weak.
