m_findlow

Title: Hidden agendas
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters: Maester Pycelle, Qyburn
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M
Length: 500 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Bingo Card Prompt - Insight at fffc
Summary: Pycelle mistrusts Qyburn and with good reason.

'What are you doing down here, precisely?' Pycelle asked as he wandered warily between the specimen jars that littered the new grand maester's den. Pycelle dared not call it a study, or even a repository. He had no love for the weasel man that had somehow snuck his way into the Queen's good graces and who had schemed to depose Pycelle from his long standing position as grand maester of King's Landing, an appointment he'd held for decades. He did not regret the accusations of scheming and usurping, for that was what had happened. Pycelle had been as loyal to the queen as any man at court, probably more so. There was no rhyme of reason to any of it.

Qyburn moved confidently between the pieces of furniture and heavy towers of books and scrolls of parchment. 'Why, I should think you of all people should understand that,' he replied smoothly. 'A maester's work is never done, the search for new knowledge and insights is an insatiable appetite.'

'You are not a maester, sir,' Pycelle quietly fumed. 'You disgraced the name of maesters with your... your... experiments.' He could barely spit the word out, having heard details of the methods employed by the man in all sorts of inhuman and horrific studies. It was depraved and unnatural.

'I see you are one of the non-believers,' Qyburn replied, looking totally at ease in this dungeon of horrors. 'The future will be dictated by the work and the discoveries we make, if only we can be brave and see them through.'

Pycelle grunted, turning to face a large slab with something covered by a sheet. Unable to quell his curiosity, he lifted the corner to see what lay underneath. When he did, he jumped back in alarm. 'Seven Hells!' Pycelle swore, coming face to face with the grey mottled face of Ser Gregor. 'What in the name of the Stranger do you mean to do with that body?'

Qyburn beamed a smile. 'Ser Gregor is perhaps my greatest project so far. We shall prove that death is only a state of being, no more potent than a minor illness from which one might recover, given the right medicine.'

'He is dead, man. Only the witchcraft of the Asshai might bring the dead back to life, and even then it is only rumour and myth.'

'That is where you are wrong. Though the Red priestesses of Asshai are correct on one point. Blood is vitally important. One need only understand how to cleanse it of poison.'

Pycelle's face twisted up in rage. 'You are truly mad, Qyburn. The Queen should be told of your insanity. You are a dangerous to everyone within the Red Keep.'

'That's sounds rather like a threat, Pycelle,' Qyburn replied, though continuing to sound as unconcerned as ever. 'I should concern myself only with how your own fragile mind might be perceived.'

Pycelle sputtered at the threat returned. 'We shall see who comes out of this the better man.'