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When Davos had first entered Stannis' service, he found he liked feasts. He loved sitting at the low tables, by the fire, with the men and the dogs, dancing with anyone who asked when the music started.
When he started sleeping with his lord, he even liked being able to flirt with him at a distance, watching Stannis as he sipped his lemon water, trying to catch his eye with a smile, enjoying the way a blush might rise on his cheeks if their eyes met.
He knew it could never be more than that—Davos was happy dancing with the men-at-arms and hedge knights who frequented the low tables, and they made feasts fun. Davos could certainly say he wouldn't have preferred sitting at the high table and having to make sure he was following all the arcane etiquette rules Stannis had known since birth. He was content to warm his bed and make sure Stannis didn't go about without his cloak.
Until the day of Stannis' name day feast.
"My brother means to introduce me to suitors tonight." They were in Stannis' rooms, about to go down, and he could tell Stannis was nervous by the way he was fidgeting. "He thinks they will want to marry me for some reason."
"Anyone might want to marry you, my lord," Davos said diplomatically. He could not keep himself from reaching out to smooth Stannis' hair with his fingers. It did have that tendency to stick up in the back. Probably because he was always running his hand over it in exasperation. Stannis at least seemed to relax under his touch and Davos let his fingers twine in his hair.
"They want to marry me because of my title and my brother," Stannis said, stepping back. "Not because of me."
Davos wanted to object to this, but he couldn't. Stannis was right. He tried to ignore the gnawing in his gut. As much as he loathed the idea of Stannis marrying, he knew he would one day. He had known it since the day he'd first kissed him, and he'd known he was a fool for falling in love with him. But he hated even more the idea that Stannis might marry someone who would not make him happy, who he could not make happy.
"You look very handsome, my lord," was all he said, lowering his hands to his sides, feeling foolish for doting on him.
And it was true. Davos' heart fluttered at the sight of him in his silks and velvet, admiring the way the clothes that had been made for him hugged his chest. Anyone would be a fool not to want to marry him, he thought. After all, I want to.
But marrying Stannis wasn't even worth dreaming about. Davos was a practical man. He knew he already had more than he'd ever been entitled to. He would have to be content with that.
Stannis frowned at his reflection in the mirror. "I cannot say you entirely convince me, Davos, but it is appreciated all the same."
Davos leaned in and kissed his cheek, breathing deep of Stannis' soapy scent. "You bid me to always counsel you with truth, my lord, so I could not lie."
Stannis shook his head ruefully and brushed Davos' hair back behind his ear before capturing his lips in a deep kiss. "Thank you, Davos. I will doubtless ask your counsel again before this process is over."
Davos smiled, but he could not help the tug in his belly that resented the idea that he would be pressed into service to vet Stannis' eventual spouse.
**
"You must at least act like a person, Stannis." Robert set his goblet down. "Elmyr Swygert is interested in you."
Stannis stiffened and glanced at Ser Elmyr who was seated beside the queen's brother. He was a few years older than Robert and Stannis and well-built. He had been with Robert's forces during the war, so Stannis knew him little.
"I suppose I will meet him if I must."
"You must." Robert called out enthusiastically to him, and Stannis watched with dread as Elmyr excused himself to Tyrion Lannister and made his way to take the vacant seat beside Stannis.
This evening would be unendurable.
**
The first thing Davos made sure of was that he had plenty of wine. He would need it to get through this feast. None of the things that normally appealed to him on feast evenings drew his attention—he shared no stories with the men he sat with, and he did not get up to dance. His gaze was fixed firmly at the high table and the knight sitting beside Stannis.
Davos didn't know his name, but he already hated him. He was sitting too close to Stannis, his lips practically pressed to his ear. Stannis would hate this, Davos knew, especially from someone he'd just met. It was obvious he knew nothing about Stannis or how to tempt him. Stannis was as likely to be tempted by talk of sails and long-dead kings as he was sweet nothings.
He shifted on the bench. The knight likely only wanted Stannis for Dragonstone, which would not gratify Stannis at all.
Davos looked at them again. He was touching Stannis' shoulder, his fingers splayed casually. Davos felt bile rise in his throat. He rose from the bench and went out into the night.
**
The next time Stannis looked for Davos he was gone. This was disappointing. He had relied on Davos to provide him with hope for the evening being over soon. Usually during one of these interminable court functions, he could glance down at Davos and receive a smile which could hold him through to the conclusion of the meal.
He couldn't blame Davos for having left—surely there were better things to do. But nevertheless, he longed for Davos to sit beside him, to help him get through one of Robert's feasts.
But he could not ask Davos to sit beside him. To do so would cause great scandal; the eyes of the court would suddenly fix on Davos, who would not deserve their scorn. Stannis could never be so selfish as to subject him to that. He would marry whoever was the most beneficial to his family. If that was Ser Elmyr, so be it. Actually liking his spouse wasn't something he'd ever considered necessary, and he was sure Elmyr felt the same.
Just then, the musicians began tuning their instruments.
"My lord, I would be most gratified if you would join me in the dancing." He tried not to loathe Elmyr for his smile which was very like Robert's.
"Yes," Stannis said. "The king expects me to open the dancing." It was his name day; the feast was in his honor, but it barely seemed that way.
He still could not make himself enjoy dancing. Ser Elmyr held him tightly, and Stannis followed along with him, trying not to step on his feet. He loathed being on display like this—every eye in the room was on him, judging how graceful he wasn't, how much work Elmyr had to do to move them. It seemed that every move Stannis made was the wrong one, and—there—he did step on Elmyr's feet.
Twice.
Elmyr winced. "You are certainly strong, my lord."
Stannis did not even dignify that by looking at him. Fool.
The dance ended and they stepped apart, though Elmyr's hands hovered as if to take Stannis again when the next song began.
"My lord, pardon me, but may I claim the next dance?"
Stannis turned. It was Davos.
He froze.
It wasn't exactly that he'd ever told Davos he couldn't approach him in public like this. It was that he'd always thought Davos wouldn't want to, and Stannis certainly wasn't going to put the burden of all that attention on him. He didn't mean to keep Davos secluded, as though their relationship were something shameful, but it had to be Davos' choice.
And it appeared he was making it.
And Stannis liked it.
Here was Davos, who by choice wore plain roughspun instead of velvet, his sailor's luck around his neck instead of fine jewels, and his hair tied back with a plain cord instead of a silk ribbon, pushing aside a knight from an old Stormlands family to ask Stannis to dance.
"You certainly may," Stannis said, ignoring Elmyr to reach for Davos' hand.
Elmyr stepped back, obviously disgruntled, but Stannis spared him not another look. Davos had his arm now and was leading him back to the center of the floor, and Stannis was content to follow.
The music that played this time was of a faster pace, something Stannis recognized as a sailor's song.
"I made a request of them," Davos said, in answer to the question Stannis had not yet been able to ask. "They were happy to oblige me, though I will have to procure them a cask or two of wine."
"I'll see to that if you need help. Rescuing me is worth wine enough." Stannis paused a moment, simply savoring the feeling of being in Davos' arms. It was somehow easier to move with him than it had been with Elmyr. Davos seemed to anticipate and correct for his awkwardness, leading him in a simple step that nevertheless kept time to the music. The couples around them had stopped dancing, unused to this type of music, but Davos did not seem to care.
His movements were smooth and graceful and Stannis could not help but feel graceful alongside him.
Or, at least, Davos never commented when he did step on his feet.
"I'm sorry," he said, ducking his head into the hollow of Davos' neck.
"No problem at all," Davos said with a smile. "My boots are tough. It would take more than that for me to feel it."
"Why did you ask me to dance?"
Davos pretended to look offended. "Why shouldn't I? You are my lover."
"Because…" It was so obvious. Did he really have to tell him? "Now you will have caused a scandal. They'll be talking about you."
"I can't imagine what's so shocking about dancing."
"You are an upjumped smuggler in their eyes. They don't believe you to be my equal."
"Do you believe me to be your equal?"
"Davos, do you even have to ask?" He let his lips brush Davos' cheek. "I hold you in the highest regard."
"Then I don't care who looks at me." Davos smiled up at him. Somehow they were still moving together. Stannis couldn't understand how he'd stumbled over Elmyr but seemed to be gliding above the floor when Davos led him.
"But…"
"Do you care?" Hesitancy seemed to enter Davos' eyes.
"Absolutely not," Stannis said firmly. "You may cause all the scandal it pleases you to."
Davos laughed. Stannis could not help but kiss him then. People would surely see, but he did not care. Davos had been jealous. On his behalf. He was half tempted to swing Davos into his arms and carry him right upstairs.
He tried to ignore the thrill of inappropriate elation that coursed through him.
"What did you think of Ser Elmyr?" Davos asked idly. The music had changed to a slower tune and Stannis now held him close, felt comfortable leading now that they were barely moving.
"He is a bore."
"Good." Davos drew closer. Stannis shivered. "I wouldn't want to lose you to a bore."
"There—there is no danger of that." Why did Davos still have the power to make him trip over his words? He felt like a blushing virgin in Davos' arms.
He is the only reason you aren't still a virgin, Stannis reminded himself. He felt his face redden at that thought of what they would surely be getting up to later.
"I am glad to hear it." Davos' hand crept downward over Stannis' arse. "Because you are mine." He must have been serious when he'd said he didn't mind if he caused a scandal. Stannis didn't turn his head to see if anyone was watching them. He knew it without having to look.
He didn't care. "Yes," he agreed readily. "I am yours."
They danced together for one more song, before Davos relinquished him. "Happy name day," he murmured in Stannis' ear. "Forgive me my indulgence."
"It was hardly an indulgence." Stannis took his arm. "Join me. At the high table. It would be the perfect gift."
Davos' eyes went wide. "If you're sure…"
"As sure as you are." He pressed a kiss to Davos' hand. "There is an easy solution to my being made to wed someone I loathe."
"And what might that be?"
"Marrying my smuggler who is far too possessive to let me go."
Davos dragged his shortened fingers down Stannis' back then, which made him shiver. Robert was watching them. Somehow, Stannis felt no shame, only pleasure that Davos was by his side as they climbed onto the dais.
"Your Grace," Davos said, bowing his head to Robert.
Robert, for the first time Stannis could remember, was actually rendered speechless. He seemed caught between amusement and rage, but was able to voice no objection as Stannis sat Davos beside him.
"Some wine, Ser?"
"It would please me, my lord."
Stannis allowed himself a satisfied smile as he raised a hand to summon a servant.
Could he really help it if he was already spoken for?