This is the shortest chapter yet, but I think it's as long as it needs to be.

Thanks to Raiseth (on SV) and Volossya (on AO3) for beta-reading this chapter for me. Much obliged!

The Archmaester

Katarina was aggrieved that Keith seemed to be finding excuses to spend less time with her. Since the day when they had kissed – when her parents had forbidden her to kiss him or anyone else – he had poured himself into his studies, learning the sword, and practicing his earth magic. She knew that she should be pleased and proud of him for becoming so devoted to his education, but she couldn't help but worry that he was deliberately trying to avoid her. These days, she only saw him at mealtimes and during the few lessons they shared. She worried that she had done something to hurt or offend him, ruining their friendship. Was she such a bad kisser that he had been frightened away from her?

She wanted to confront him, to have a frank discussion with him, but events got in the way. The first was when Archmaester Marwyn arrived at Claes Manor, demanding to speak to her father. Then, after he had spoken to her father, he wanted to speak to her, Sienna, and Anne, so they were called away from their usual daily routines and into a meeting with him.

Archmaester Marwyn was a short, thickset man with a bulging belly and a square jaw. In spite of his robes and the maester's chain looped around his neck, he looked more like a prizefighter than a scholar: he had enormous hands, scarred knuckles, and a crooked nose that had been broken more than once. Tufts of white hair sprouted from his ears and nostrils. He had large bushy eyebrows and his teeth were stained red from his habit of chewing sourleaf. Taking great gusty breaths, he paced back and forth around the drawing room like a bull stomping around a field. From where she was standing framed in the doorway, Katarina had to restrain herself from staring at him in fascination.

Nearby, seated on a chair and looking perfectly at ease, her father was making notes in a black leatherbound book. "But did all of her predictions come true?" he asked.

"Who knows?" Marwyn snorted and shook his head. "The book is lost, like so many others. I only ever found three pages of it."

"Still, her words were worth heeding," the Duke murmured. "Her family wouldn't have survived, otherwise."

"Their luck ran out, in the end," said Marwyn. "But not before they spread their seed all over this island and even further afield. They've survived through you and the rest of the nobility. You are their legacy."

"Well, that doesn't matter now," said the Duke. "What matters is that you are the closest thing to an expert on prophecies that I have ever heard of – and I am in need of your expertise."

Katarina didn't hear Marwyn's reply. Carefully, she retreated back through the doorway and then knocked on the door three times.

"Ah, come in, Katarina," said her father. "Are Sienna and Anne with you?"

"They are," said Katarina, beckoning for them to follow her into the room. "And… will you introduce me to your guest?"

"This is Archmaester Marwyn. Some call him 'Marwyn the Mage'," her father obliged her. "I had hoped that he would be able to help the three of you."

"That depends on a lot of things, many of which I have no control over," said Marwyn, with a harsh bark of laughter. He glanced at Katarina; then at Sienna, who was next to her, holding her hand as if clinging to her for protection; and finally at Anne, who was standing behind and over them, like a guardian shadow. "Perhaps I can help you to survive, but perhaps not. And perhaps there's something I can learn from the three of you."

"Us? What do you hope to learn from us?" asked Katarina, excited and curious.

"For years, I've studied magic, all across the world and in many different cultures, and in that time I've realized what a vast topic it is and how much I still have to learn," said Marwyn. "Elemental magic, the magic the Targaryens brought with them from ancient Valyria, has been well-documented and cataloged over the years. The grey sheep of the Citadel know everything that can be done with it, in all different circumstances, depending on the power and skill of the caster. There's no mystery to it, not anymore. In a way, it is 'scientific' sorcery." His lip curled in a sneer. "But there are other branches of magic that they'd prefer not to think about. The curses that have been laid upon each of you, for example. Will you tell me about them?"

"Um, where should I start?" asked Katarina, glancing around at Sienna and Anne, making sure that they were happy for her to be their spokeswoman.

"Your father has already given me the gist of it, but…" Marwyn shrugged his brawny shoulders. "I've found it's always best to refer to primary sources whenever possible. Tell me exactly what happened, in your own words."

Katarina nodded and began to recount the tale of what had happened on the day when she and her two friends had visited Maggy the Frog. Occasionally, Sienna or Anne would chime in, wanting to clarify one of the details or add some extra information. Marwyn listened attentively throughout.

At last, when the story was finished, he wondered aloud, "Hmm. Did Maggy the Frog curse you or were you cursed already? Did she turn you into puppets or was it merely that she could see the strings?"

"That is what we'd like to know," said the Duke, somewhat acerbically. "And we were hoping you could help us to find out the truth."

Katarina had been so caught up in her storytelling that she had forgotten her father was in the room until he began to speak. She glanced at him, abashed.

"Truth is in short supply," said Marwyn. "All I have is speculation and anecdotal evidence."

"How does that help us?" asked the Duke.

"I have a few ideas. You've managed to keep the little blonde one from dying so far, haven't you?" He pointed to Sienna. "Even though the prophecy seemed to suggest that she would die that very afternoon?"

Sienna nodded. "I'm still here. For now."

"Prophecies are like that. If they come true, it usually isn't in the same way that you'd expect," said Marwyn. "Gorghan of Old Ghis once wrote that a prophecy is like a treacherous woman. She takes your member in her mouth and–"

"Mind your language in front of my maiden daughter," the Duke interjected. "Be very careful with what you're about to say next."

"Why does it have to be a woman? There are treacherous men as well, aren't there?" asked Katarina, who wasn't sure what a 'member' was. Unless Marwyn was referring to a member of a guild or religious order, she had no idea what he was talking about.

With an awkward cough, Marwyn nodded and said, "There are. What I meant to say was… prophecies are treacherous. They lull you into a false sense of security and then, when you think you understand them, they turn out to mean something entirely different from what you'd hitherto thought." He spoke slowly, with great care. Katarina suspected that he was editing his planned speech to remove any parts of it that might be considered to be offensive and thereby distract from his core message. "Prophecies can lure you into traps that you have no hope of escaping from."

"I think we've done fairly well so far," said Katarina, looking doubtfully at him.

"Overconfidence can trap you as surely as any prophecy," Marwyn warned her. "You've still got a long way to go yet. When you're an old woman and you've avoided all the dangers and pitfalls that would've cut your life short, then you'll be in a position to say you've done 'fairly well', but not before."

"What do you suggest we should do?" asked the Duke. "You keep warning us that prophecies are dangerous, but you've offered little practical advice."

"Yes, I was getting to that. I've noticed that when different branches of magic intersect with each other, the results can be unpredictable." Marwyn looked at the three young ladies he'd invited to this meeting. "Do any of you have magic of your own?"

"I do," said Katarina and Sienna, together. They glanced at each other, flushed pink, and quickly turned away.

"One at a time, please," said Marwyn, with an irritated sigh.

"I… I have earth magic," said Katarina. "Not very much. Barely worth mentioning."

"And I have wind magic," Sienna added. "Only a pitiful amount, though."

Anne shook her head. "Not me. I don't have any."

"I wonder if your magic is the only reason why you are still alive right now," said Marwyn, gazing at Sienna as if she were a specimen in a jar.

"Hardly the only reason," said Sienna, though she was wilting under the heat of his gaze. "My friends have worked very hard to save me from… um, all sorts of things."

Marwyn scratched his scruffy-bearded chin and looked thoughtful. "Interesting," he muttered. "Defeating a prophecy with the power of friendship. If the situation wasn't so serious, I'd be tempted to assign that to one of my acolytes as the topic of a research project. It'd be worth it just to see some of the other maesters explode with indignation."

"What makes you think her magic has saved her life?" asked Katarina. "She hardly ever uses it."

"That's a mistake," said Marwyn. "Even if you don't have much of it, you should know how to use your magic effectively. It's an advantage not everyone has: an extra tool at your disposal, or a weapon of last resort." He paused, looking contemplative, as if a thought had just occurred to him. "Of course, knowing 'when' to use it is just as important as 'how'. Escalation is not always the best option."

Katarina shook her head. "Never mind that," she said, exasperatedly. "You didn't answer my question: what makes you think that Sienna's magic has somehow helped to save her life?"

"I don't know for certain. But in my travels around the world, I've seen marvels and horrors that I fervently hope are beyond anything you've ever dreamed of: I've seen the dead walk; I've seen dark sorcerers use the power of human sacrifice to empower themselves and summon vile abominations to serve them; and I've seen peculiar and impossible things occur when different branches of magic intersect for whatever reason. You and your friend have elemental magic. Targaryen magic, which the grey sheep believe they've tamed. Curses and prophecies, on the other hand… They come from a mysterious source. Call it wild magic, or hedge magic, if you like. My colleagues at the Citadel can't agree if it's a type of magic that actually exists or if it's just quackery, made up by mummers." Addressing Sienna directly, Marwyn said, "You've convinced me that your luck is so bad that it must be the result of a curse. I'm curious as to whether or not it's had any effect on your elemental magic."

"Um, not that I've noticed," said Sienna, with a helpless shrug.

"But if you used it more often, you might notice."

"I suppose it's possible," Sienna allowed.

"There is another possibility I've thought of," said Marwyn, rubbing his enormous hands together; the more he expounded upon his theories, the more animated he became. "In many cultures, curses and prophecies are believed to be the province of the gods themselves. I've been to places where, if they found out about the curses you three have been afflicted with, people would ask what you'd done to cause the gods such displeasure."

"But… we weren't cursed by the gods, were we?" asked Katarina, wide-eyed with panic. "Or were we?"

"It's worth considering, don't you think? We've long ago departed the realm of the normal, sensible, and rational; instead, we are in a bizarre and fantastical dreamworld where nothing is as it was once believed to be. If you want to survive, you must adapt."

Katarina frowned. "How can I do that?"

"If I were a septon, I would urge you to pray to the Seven for their guidance and protection. And, lacking any better ideas, I suppose it may be worth a try."

"But I pray to the Seven every night!" Sienna blurted out.

"And have they helped you?" asked Marwyn.

"I… I don't know."

"Did you know that there are thousands of gods and goddesses, more than there are stars in the night sky? Even if the Seven won't answer your prayers, there may be many others who will. Which is why I had these made for you," said Marwyn, reaching into the voluminous pockets of his robes and pulling out what looked like a tangle of cheap necklaces. "Protective talismans. Each bead is dedicated to a different god – or an entire pantheon – and I paid some of their devotees to spend time in solemn prayer and contemplation with them. They're holy relics, or as near to them as I could fashion."

"May I see?" asked the Duke, reaching out a hand and looking curious.

"By all means," said Marwyn, handing one of the necklaces to him.

"This is your grand plan?!" cried Katarina. "You want us to pray to the gods for help?"

"Oh, you don't need to pray," Marwyn assured her. "It's my hope that wearing one of these necklaces – or merely having it about your person – will be enough to attract the attention of a deity or two."

"That doesn't sound very scientific," said Katarina, looking dubious. "And then what?"

"Perhaps they will be intrigued enough to want to save you. Or, if you have been cursed by another god – one of their rivals, maybe? – they may decide to lift the curse so that they can spoil the plans of whoever put it there in the first place."

Katarina folded her arms and looked at him crossly. "Or they may not."

"Or they may not," Marwyn conceded. "Either way, all you have to do is wear a necklace. A small price to pay, don't you think?"

Meanwhile, Katarina's father was examining the string of tiny, rounded river-washed pebbles that had been handed to him. Noticing the different symbols that had been etched into each bead, he raised an eyebrow. "A seven-pointed star, a weirwood tree, and… is that the Stone Cow of Faros? I'm surprised you managed to find any of its devotees here in Sorcier."

"Over the years, more than a few escaped slaves have ended up on these shores," said Marwyn. "Some of them are willing to be converted, but others hold to their own gods."

He handed one of the necklaces to Katarina. "Thank you," she said, unenthusiastically. "Just what I always wanted."

"By the way, Katarina," said her father. "I hope that I don't need to tell you that you shouldn't talk about this. Not with anyone."

"Not anyone?" she asked. "But what about mother?"

"Uh… well, she may not understand. But I don't suppose she'll ask." Her father hesitated, shook his head, and continued, "Just be careful."

"Very well, father."

Next, he turned his attention to Katarina's best friend. "I don't need to warn you, do I, Sienna?"

"No," she replied. "I won't tell anyone."

Lastly, he looked at Anne, who was a silent and reassuring presence behind the two younger girls. "Miss Shelley, can I trust your discretion?"

"You can," she said, with a dutiful nod. "I stand to benefit from this just as much as anyone."

"Or as little," Katarina pointed out.

Marwyn gave a bass rumble of amusement. "You don't believe that anything I've said this afternoon has the potential to be useful or worthwhile, do you?" he asked. "Why is that?"

"I… um, I feel like… you don't know either!" yelled Katarina, overcoming her embarrassment with a mixture of defiance and embarrassment. "You don't know what's going to happen or if your advice can possibly help us!"

"You're right. I don't," he admitted.

"Are we just another one of your experiments?" asked Katarina; because she had lived in the same house as Pycelle for almost her entire life, she had a vague idea that a maester's studies involved reading a lot of books, distilling various chemicals, and some inventive cruelty to animals. "Do you care about us at all?!"

There was a pause. Marwyn stared at her for long enough to make her feel very uncomfortable.

"S-sorry," she croaked. "Forget I said anything."

"Lady Katarina, I want to help you. While you live, I will try to save you," he said. His voice was surprisingly gentle. "And if I can't save you, I'll try to learn from it. I'll try to use what I've learned to save other people. Can you accept that?"

She sniffed and blinked back tears.

"I'll admit that some of the things I've suggested this afternoon have been experimental or theoretical, but what do you have to lose by putting them to the test?"

"Um… you said that each bead is dedicated to a different god or pantheon. Won't they be offended?" asked Sienna. "Won't they be angry if they see that we're appealing to their rivals and enemies as well as to them?"

"Maybe they will," said Marwyn, shrugging his massive shoulders. "Maybe they'll spend so much time squabbling over who has the rightful claim to you that you'll live to a right old age and never again have to worry that you've been cursed. I don't know. It's up to you to decide whether or not it's a risk you want to take."

Sienna gave a thoughtful nod. "I see."

"Th-thank you," said Katarina, putting on her new necklace. Even if it looked unfashionably plain, she was resolved to wear it always.

"Yes, thank you, Archmaester," said her father, bowing his head respectfully. "I'm sure we're all very grateful. You'll stay for dinner, won't you?"

Marwyn nodded his assent.

In the corridor outside, Katarina approached her loyal maidservant and said, "You've been very quiet this afternoon, Anne. What do you think, uh…?" Without bothering to finish the question, she hurriedly glanced around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping.

"I don't think," said Anne, with a trace of good humor. "I'm not paid to think."

"Oh. In that case, maybe we should start paying you more," said Katarina, peering anxiously at her. "I'll ask father."

"I was joking," said Anne, patiently. "Not that I'd object to being paid a little more, but… You understand, don't you?

"Um…" After a lengthy hesitation, Katarina tried again: "What do you think about what Archmaester Marwyn had to say?"

"Well, there were a great many things he didn't know or wasn't sure about," Anne recalled. "I've heard that wisdom is about realizing how little you know, which must mean that Archmaester Marwyn is a very wise man." Absent-mindedly, she rubbed the string of tiny pebbles she was wearing under her maid uniform. "If there's a chance that these ugly necklaces will protect us, we may as well wear them. Like he said, it's a small price to pay."

Katarina nodded. "I wish he'd had some actual answers," she said frustratedly.

"What else can we do other than carry on as we have done?" Anne gave a philosophical shrug. "You and I will take good care of Sienna. I'm sure she'll help us when she can. And… if my father comes here and tries to force me to marry an evil man, you'll stop him, won't you?"

"Yes," said Katarina, with a firm nod. "I'll protect you, Anne."

Author's Notes:
Archmaester Marwyn first appeared in George R. R. Martin's A Feast for Crows (AFfC), in which he gives a speech about Gorghan of Old Ghis, who wrote that "a prophecy is like a treacherous woman. She takes your member in her mouth, and you moan with the pleasure of it and think, how sweet, how fine, how good this is... and then her teeth snap shut and your moans turn to screams. That is the nature of prophecy, said Gorghan. Prophecy will bite your prick off every time."

He intended to use the exact same speech in the above chapter, but Duke Claes forced him to bowdlerize it. Probably for the best, don't you think?

In AFfC, Marwyn seems to know what he's talking about. However, I've portrayed him as more of a wacky mad scientist/conspiracy theorist, partly because it's funnier and partly because, in AFfC, Marwyn claims that the other maesters of the Citadel were responsible for killing off the dragons and causing the decline of magic, which… Well, it's an interesting idea, but it's yet another plot thread in a series that already has an overabundance of them, so I suspect that it will never be properly explored, even if George R. R. Martin manages to finish the A Song of Ice and Fire series within a reasonable amount of time.