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

Thirtieth Day of the Fourth Month 294 AC

Two wishes do you whisper into the night air as two lords look on with wariness, a boy with curiosity gleaming in his eye, but it is Lady Hayford who draws your gaze in turn. She seems fearful beneath the mask of deference, but with more than the simple shock that seems to have afflicted many in the keep, high and low born alike. If anything, you would say she is... familiar with spellcraft, enough to be surprised when you conjure the steeds for their journeys with neither word not gesture. Given where she is likely to have seen the most magic, you have a quiet word with the most senior praetorian in her escort. An unneeded precaution, perhaps, but better to be overprepared than under.

After refreshing yourself from the sacrifice the wishes had called for, you turn back to the keep, trying to recall where you might find a chamber in the place to hold ad-hoc court and pass judgement over Tygett Lannister and his men. A few of the barracks would be large enough, but they would send the wrong message. The music room maybe... too cramped and too odd. There is no help for it then, it will have to be the Throne Room, though not quite the Iron Throne.

At your call the seneschal steps forward, a thin man with pale eyes and greying hair whom one can imagine had kept his job mostly by dint of being unobserved. "Your Grace, the chamber has not seen... use for months, it can be made ready, but not at its best."

"No matter, Ser," you wave off the concern. "We all have things to get used to. I can deal with a few inches of dust if need be..."

A few of the onlookers catch on the the fact that he had used the wrong address, but no one is inclined to speak up. A few courtiers are literally backing up.

"I have never been more glad in my life to have had the foresight to found my own court," you note mentally to Lya, who in turn sends back wordless agreement tinged with sympathy.

For a moment you wonder why it means so much to you that these petty functionaries should think to treat you like some beast liable to tear them limb from limb. Is it that you can half-recall some of the faces from a dream of childhood? Is it that they perhaps recall your father's madness, and would have more cause than most to be wary of any bearing your name?

You walk down the corridors at a swifter pace than most can keep up with comfortably, though your companions match you wordlessly with Sandor bringing up the rear in some unspoken agreement with Ser Richard to serve as a guard against ambush. An ambush you find, but not the sort they had been fearful of.

A man bearing a white cloak walks between two others in red to meet you at the bottom of a flight of steps that leads down towards the Throne Room. It does not take more than a glance to realize he is a prisoner, disarmed and absent the armor he is used to wearing, and it does not take more than the second glance to see that he must have led them despite that. Ser Barristan Selmy has that sort of air about him, even to legionnaires who had likely not even heard of him in passing.

"Your Majesty," he bows deeply. Of course he would get that right. Always the form, never the substance. Pale blue eyes meet yours, unwavering. "In light of the confirmation of Joffrey Waters' bastardy by the High Septon, I come now before you to offer the services of the Kingsguard, such as we yet are..."


"Does he look like he needs a guard right now?" Dany cuts him off sharply, motioning between Sandor, silently glowering and Ser Richard whose expression might have been hewn from stone for all it gives away. "There is no king in Westeros and no need for a Kingsguard."

"Call us what you may, there will always be need for leal men to guard the royal or imperial family, and to put their interests before all others..."

You really should have interfered. It is not as though you are not familiar with the signs of your sister being truly angry. She always goes quiet and still, with only the slightest twitch of her jaw that in a dragon would be a warning snap. The fact of the matter is you are just too shocked to see this man here with this offer after what his order had done.

"Like you put mother's interests first when you stood by that bedroom door?" The question was asked with cold deliverance that ill fit a child's lips, and this time with a purpose. "I suppose it was good practice for those of your 'brothers' who found themselves standing with Rhaegar at the Tower of Joy."

Selmy reels back as though she had slapped him. Truth be told, she had done far worse, but you cannot quite bring yourself to feel sorry for it.

What do you say to Ser Barristan Selmy?

[] Write in

OOC: Sorry this took so long guys, this update fought me. On the one hand there is so much stuff from Viserys' past coming out, but on the other we are in the middle of all this stuff happening. I think we can take a moment to deal with Selmy rather than putting him on ice. It shows that whatever his faults he is the sort of man who can convince his jailers to go intercept the king as he walks through the keep. That is I think an important factor, to show why so many count him a hero as well as why he failed.