A Sword Without a Hilt: A Song of Ice and Fire/D&D 3.5 Crossover

Eight Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

Ser Quincy Cox was startled to see the raven beating at his window. He had no particular illusions about his House's use to the Dragon King. Likely as not he would not even have received the offer he did if it wasn't for Rina and she was a lot more likely to be sending letters to her mother, not him. Not without cause, the old knight admitted to himself, an old ache twinging again at the reminder of his folly as he opened the window. There was no letter around the bird's leg, for this was no bird.

"Wisdom Rina Cox and Wisdom Mercy would speak with you, my lord, at your earliest convenience on the matter of Hork's Hill and that which is contained therein," the messenger croaked, leaving Ser Quincy so shocked that he could not find the words to answer until it started to scratch at his desk.

"Yes, of course, tomorrow morning will be appropriate," he said quickly, rather than give in to the temptation to delay the matter.

After the bird had flown off the old knight sat unmoving for a long while, the ledger open upon his desk forgotten, his gaze lost to visions long past until the candle by his side guttered and went out.


Ninth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

Perhaps it was to keep from looking at all the ways Rina had changed, but Ser Quincy's gaze lingered a touch overlong on her companion, Mercy of no particular name or House and no title save that of 'Wisdom' which signified a sorceress. She had silver hair like one of Valyrian stock, but her features were softer, more rounded, and a spark of golden fire glinted in her eyes. Rather that look offended under his scrutiny she gave a small almost sheepish smile. "So do you want the long explanation about who I am, what I am really? I don't mind explaining, but I have found many Westerosi lords would rather I do not as it has to do with some uncommon sorcery."

The knight was hard pressed to imagine what would count as uncommon sorcery if talking man-smart ravens counted as the the common kind. Still, it would have been most impolite to refuse the offer at this point.

"So, do you know how some plants can grow from both seeds and buds..." the sorceress began her account. It was not particularly long or tangled, but it still left the knight with a head full of questions swirling round and round. What was the Queen's inheritance going to look like she she could have children on her own, children who were and weren't her at the same time? How many of them could she make and what place would they occupy at court? All things one could not very well ask a lady and which one should not ask when there were more urgent matters afoot.

"You get used to it," Rina mimed from beside her companion and for a moment Ser Quincy was surprised and pleased in equal measure to see none of the chill distance in her eyes, just the amused sparkle that every child had when they got to say that to a parent about the changing times.

That look made the next words he spoke easier than he expected, if still hard. "So you want to hear about Hork's Hill and about Alren, no doubt? There's some magic about the place?"

Though he hoped to be told no the knight was not the least bit surprised to see his daughter nodding gravely. "Magic of the darkest sort."

"Well then, best start from the beginning..." he sighed. He explained how Alren had always been sickly as a child, especially in the winter when the cold wet wind blew in from the sea, how his cough had gotten worse as he grew older and the maesters had not been able to do anything about it save swaddle him in ever more blankets and pour foul smelling concoctions down his throat. Alren had even japed that after every one he kept hoping that he would lose his sense of taste, but it would always come back.

"So your lord grandfather became fed up with the measters in the end, I think one of them might have suggested that he 'should look to his other son', but I was young then so I can's say for certain, one thing that was certain was that we didn't have a maester in the keep until the day he died," Ser Quincy continued. "He never stopped looking for a cure though, he sent word with ships in foreign ports looking for physicians and even inquired after cunning men and woods witches. It was one of these that brought the cure, made it real. Mother was against trying it, but it wasn't her choice of course." Ser Quincy paused and winced inwardly, seeing the annoyance in his daughter's eyes, probably not the best thing to remind her of, but he did not know how to apologize or even if he should so he pressed on. "She brewed a potion from thornapple and ghostberry, a child's tears..."

"Where did she get that?" Rina asked worriedly.

"She asked for mine, had me smell some onion," the knight explained, a little surprised to remember how sensible the request had sounded at the time. Magic made a lot more sense to children back in those days. "The last thing she used was earth from Hork's Hill, she said it was dirt from a hero's tomb, though I didn't know what she meant then. I didn't know for many years yet..."

OOC: A bit of a cliffhanger here, but I feel Rina deserves some time to discuss this in detail, she is a companion, but has not had much time assigned to her personal circumstances and relationships. Also as a note thornapple and ghostberry are commonly known as hawthorn and snowberry. I just felt that those names would be more appropriate for the purposes of this particular potion.