|𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒|

𝐗𝐕. |𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑|

・゜゜・．

|Word Count: 10,322|

𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭, 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞. Her gaze shifted to Sir Rodrik who was pacing around the room, the old yet experienced master-at-arms seeming restless after leaving Flea Bottom. Yet what had the noblewoman nervous was Geralt himself who was leaned back by the wall near the door, his calm yellow eyes set on her, unblinking.

"It isn't needed for you to guard me Geralt. Rodrik is more than capable while we wait for my husband."

Geralt didn't answer, staying silent which was unnerving for the woman.

"I don't understand this treatment. I am thankful Lord Petyr has taken us under his protection...even if I wish we did not have to stay at a brothel."

The Witcher still said nothing. Again Catelyn shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

"My reasons for coming here were just. Ned needed to be warned and shown proof that the Lannister's are behind it all. Jon Aryan's death, Bran's fall and the attempt on his life. I know the Lannisters are behind it!"

"Yet are you willing to bet the lives of your family on that?" Geralt finally answered back, voice calm and serious. "I'll admit the Lannister's are the prime suspects, yet we can't rush into making accusations." He'd step closer to her, continuing to speak. "If you were so concerned, why not send extra men from the North with the dagger in hand."

"I had to be certain it was delivered and Ned warned!" She quickly answered back.

"Despite the risk of being noticed? If you were spotted you could have tipped off the conspirators who would no doubt plan to counter us or be fearful enough to take more aggressive actions, be it towards you, Eddard, or your daughters."

Catelyn was silent for a moment, a troubled look on her face. "I thought it was the best choice."

Before anyone could say anything more, there'd be a sudden yell and grunt outside along with a hushed angry voice. "You're a funny man, you know that?!"

Catelyn and Geralt both recognized that voice, yet before the Witcher could move the woman was already at the open window. She'd lean out, giving a small gasp before speaking out. "Ned!"

Geralt was close behind her, looking out to see Lord Stark with one hand around Littlefinger's throat, the man struggling and gasping for breath. The instant Ned saw his wife, the fierce look on his face was gone. The iron grip on Lord Baelish's throat quickly let go as the man hurried into the brothel, Littlefinger following close behind after catching his breath. Yet Geralt did just catch a few words the man muttered.