The Dragon and the Hawke 60
Qyburn expected many things as the new Grand Maester and personal alchemist of Cersei Lannister. He'd been a prisoner at Harrenhal, a disgraced Maester, and then he'd saved Jaime Lannister's life. Things had certainly changed since then, and now here he was, sitting a few feet away from where he'd had the children murder Pycelle, trying to come up with a new alchemical formulae that would allow him to survive being burnt alive by wildfire.
He may be a loyal man, especially to madwomen who could change their attitudes at the drop of a dragon, but he was not stupid enough to think that the coin couldn't fall out of his favor. He had helped the Queen destroy the Sept, and he was glad to do it, faith was the realm of the foolish after all, but he had not expected the boy King to leap to his death.
That had been an unexpected and very unfortunate turn. Now there was a chance that Cersei would turn her anger to him, and he did not want to die the way most of the former Mad King's victims did. Burning alive was a painful experience, he knew this well.
He was in the process of clearing his latest failure when there was a gentle knock on the door to his study. He does not look up, merely calling out, "Come in!"
"Maester Qyburn?" the voice belongs to one of the children, one of Varys's former little birds.
"Yes, child?" The Maester asks as he checks to make sure that nothing on his table can interact and cause an unexpected combustion.
"There're two women out in the city who want to meet you," The girl tells him, and he looks up in curiosity. The question is clear on his face and the girl expands, "They came from nowhere and appeared in the Queen's Crater."
The Queen's Crater, what the common folk had taken to calling the remains of the Sept of Baelor, "And why do they want to meet me? How do you know they do?"
"One of them, a lady in armor, asked if anyone knew a 'mad alchemist,'" the child explains further, "She went and hurt some goldcloaks before asking, so me and some of the other kids were in the crowd watching. I ran, soon as I heard what she asked."
"And you think I'm a 'mad alchemist,' do you?" Qyburn asks, letting an amused smile and a chuckle spread across his face to tell the child that she was not in trouble for her assumption.
"Aye, sir, you brought back the Mountain, everyone says it'd take a madman to do it," She tells him.
"Then I am glad my reputation proceeds me," Qyburn pulls himself to his feet, stretching out his sleeping muscles, "Do you know where these women are now?"
"Yessir, Martyn said that he'd take them to that inn you like cause of the pies," The girl tells him.
"Ah, perfect, I have been aching for an excuse to enjoy a good meat pie," Qyburn nods, and plucks a few sweets from the jar he keeps them in and hands one to the child, "Let me just grab my guard and you can lead us."
She nods eagerly and waits as he grabs his escort. He did not know why Ser Jaime had assigned him the Sellsword, but so far the man had proven intelligent, frugal, and amoral enough not to care about his experimentation. He'd even promised his silence for a solution of the fireproofing concoction when Qyburn completed it.
"Bronn," He pokes his head out the door, "I have need of an escort, if you would accompany me to the Daring Knight."
"The place with the terrific meat pies?" Bronn asks.
"That's the one," Qyburn agrees.
"Be happy to, Maester," Bronn agrees. He too had been entranced by the quality of the food that the inn managed to get a hold of. Qyburn suspected, and had even had the children confirm, that the owner had connections to smugglers that regularly provided him with ingredients. It didn't truly matter, but the point was that Qyburn knew, and so the owner knew that he knew, and never asked for payment in exchange for silence.
The little girl led them through the secret passages of the Red Keep, which Qyburn had yet to master, and out into the city. The mad Maester took a happy whiff of the city's stench and gave a hearty chuckle as the girl led himself and Bronn onwards, "Ah, my friend, is there anything better than the stench of a city filled with life?"
"Aye, but it isn't very appropriate for young ears," Bronn replies.
"Fair enough," Qyburn agrees, but of all the vows he'd forsaken, he did hold to his celibacy. He'd experienced the best night of his life thanks to his eager siblings and flowing coin before he set off to join the Maesters. He was happy to keep that as his last treasured memory of the carnal arts.
They reached the inn after a few moments of casual travel through the streets, none bothering him or his guard. The fear that the people now held for the Queen now greatly outweighed their hatred, so they would not risk her wrath in an attempt on his life.
The Daring Knight was a large inn, having boasted to house more knights for the tourneys than any other. Now it was mostly empty, the happy days of King Robert long gone. Only those that loved the food and appreciated the mild comforts that it afforded remained loyal to the pricey establishment. That meant that it was mostly Lannister men that populated the bar area.
"Ah, Maester, good to see you!" Robar, the owner, greeted. The man was a jovial sort, and lucky enough to have married his daughter off to the Braavosi smuggler that provided his food years ago. That way he didn't have to worry about the Lannisters taking liberties with her, as seemed to be their habit.
"Robar, good to see you as well," Qyburn smiles, taking the man's hand and giving it a genial shake, "My small friend here said that there were two young ladies that wished to meet me?"
Robar nods, "That would be the Ladies Hawke, foreigners by the look of them."
"Ladies Hawke?" Qyburn asks, it had been a few years ago that word from across the Narrow sea was that same sex marriages were becoming commonplace, but this would be the first he'd ever heard about in Westeros.
The name Hawke also tickled a few memories, and he nearly put it together when Bronn did it for him, "Hawke, ain't that the name of the witch they say is a god over in Slaver's Bay?"
"It's The Maw, now!" is a call from a huddle of Lannister guards near the bar. The men part to reveal two women, the apparently named Ladies Hawke. One was dressed in leathers and plate with skin as pale as a northman's, while the other was garbed in a dress that would be more suited for the Reach or Dorne but was assisted by a coat in keeping the dark skinned woman warm. The one in plate continues her comment now that she can see who she's talking to, "Wouldn't make sense to keep the name 'Slaver's Bay' when we've gone and destroyed slavery."
"Fair enough," Bronn agrees, then asks, "So, you that woman everyone says is a god?"
The woman throws her head back and groans, "Oh, by the maker, people actually believe that all the way out here?"
"Can't say I do, but word is that you've already got a church somewhere round here," Bronn tells her.
"Fuck," She lays back, then looks to Robar, "Can I get a drink? Something strong, I wanna wash this taste of-"
"Marian," her companion admonishes, "We are here to talk to the alchemist, not drink away your delusions."
"My delusions?" The now named Marian Hawke asks, "What delusions? Missy, I am not delusional, everyone else is!"
"Am I to take the word of one against that of millions," Is the return question, then adds, "and while it is the one that is attempting to be humble?"
Marian groans again, then sighs, "Alright, fine, no drinking. Not like it'd do much anyway. You, Missandei Hawke, are way too good at talking me out of shit."
Missandei raises an eyebrow, "you are merely easy to convince, my love."
Qyburn, deciding that now would be a good time to introduce himself, coughs lightly, "Hello there, ladies, I believe I am the… alchemist you are here to ask about."
"Really?" Marian hops off her chair and pulls her wife to her feet, they walk over to Qyburn, and it is only as the two women walk past the Lannister men that the Maester realizes that the soldiers seem to be frozen in place, in the middle of pulling weapons.
There is a sudden explosion of motion as the men unfreeze, and then they are all smacking into each other as weapons clatter to the ground. The confused groans echo through the bar as Marian and Missandei reach the Maester and his guard. Marian smiles at Qyburn, "Hi there, I'm Marian Hawke."
"I am Maester Qyburn," the man introduces himself, "I received word that you were looking for me?"
"Yes!" Marian nods excitedly, waving him and Bronn over to a free table. All four sit and the mage starts, "I want to get my wife pregnant."
Qyburn blinks, "But… you are both women?"
"We are, but back where I'm from, there was a potion that made it possible."
"How?" Qyburn asks, now curious. If there was a potion that could manage something like that, how had he not heard of it before?
"Well, from what I remember, it was some kind of mixture of a bunch of fertility herbs, no idea which ones, then the partners added their blood to the mixture, then the one that's getting pregnant coats their insides with it."
"So, it is an imitation of the male... result?" Qyburn asks.
Marian nods, "Exactly."
"Why not just have a man do it?" Bronn asks, confused.
Missandei turns her gaze to him, "I had thought the people of Westeros were against the idea of bastards? From what Lord Snow said, they are treated terribly."
"Lord Snow?" Qyburn asks, "Are you referring to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow?"
"Yes, he spoke of the condition of bastards extensively to her grace," Missandei tells him.
"Her grace? I was not aware that Queen Cersei spoke with the Lord Commander," Qyburn notes, though he knows that the woman was not talking about the Mad Queen.
"Not your queen, our queen. Well, empress," Marian corrects, "They talk sometimes when he updates her on the advance of the White Walkers."
"That old wives' tale?" Bronn snorts.
"Not much of one, too," Marian looks to the sellsword, "wasn't that hard to fight them, I only got stabbed once."
"One of them stabbed you?" Missandei turns to glare at her wife.
Marian shrinks in her seat and chuckles nervously, "Ah, haha, yeah, didn't I mention?"
"Not to me," Missandei tells her, and the expression on her face is terribly pensive.
Marian pulls her into a hug, "Hey, you know a little prick like that isn't gonna hurt! Hell I got a hail of arrows in my ass when I helped take the Dreadfort!"
"Yes, and I took great-" Missandei stops herself from saying any more, she closes her eyes and turns to Qyburn, "Apologies for the deviation from our topic of conversation. Do you think you'd be able to make a potion that fits with what Marian described?"
Qyburn frowns, "Possibly, to get that kind of reaction… it sounds like there is a magic involved in the process."
"Probably, Thedas was full of all kinds of magic," Marian nods.
"I am not capable of using magic," Qyburn notes, "And I know nobody that could."
Marian frowns, "Well, I've got magic, if I charged the potion, would that work?"
"There is no way to know unless I actually manage to make the potion correctly," Qyburn tells her.
"Hang on," Bronn grunts, "I'm pretty sure we're on opposite sides of the war. Isn't this a bit of a conflict of interest?"
"Yeah, and?" Marian asks.
"I don't know about you, but me and the Maester serve Cersei Lannister," Bronn tells her, "She'll fucking burn us alive if she ever finds out we talked to you."
"Huh, damn," Marian frowns, then turns to Missandei, "We should have saved this for when Stannis conquered the city, shouldn't we?"
"I had been under the assumption that the alchemist was not part of the Westerosi Queen's court," Missandei tells her wife, "We should have waited."
"Right," Marian sighs, then turns back to Qyburn, "Sorry for wasting your time"
"It is no problem," Qyburn tells her, "You have presented me with a new problem to solve, one I look forward to investigating."
"Even when you can't use it?" Marian asks
"Even then."
"Huh," Marian smiles. She stands, then helps her wife to her feet, "Then good luck!"
And suddenly Qyburn and Bronn are alone in the inn with the groaning Lannister guards. The blink and exchange looks, then decide as one not to mention anything to the Queen or Kingslayer. They need not say any more as Robar brings them drinks and their coveted meat pies.