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Stannis did not appreciate the irony that, after having achieved all he had set out to do, he was now miserable. He had known he would be. That knowledge had not factored into any decision he had made thus far. It had been irrelevant. But that did not make him any less miserable.
He glanced across the council table at Davos who was dutifully writing notes which they would review together later. He was the one bright spot in the mire, though Stannis would not liken him to a Will-o'-the-wisp. He was more like a lighthouse to Stannis' floundering ship.
"I suppose that brings us to our conclusion," Davos said, laying his quill down. "Until later, my lords."
Stannis had not even realized the meeting was concluded, and he felt foolish for having evidently spent so much of it staring at Davos. It wasn't difficult to get lost in exactly that, however. He found himself entranced by Davos worrying at his lower lip as he wrote, or the stray strand of hair he kept winding about one of the shortened fingers.
"Petitions next, sire," Davos said, rising. "Shall we go?"
Stannis rose quickly; the moments they would spend getting to the throne were cherished and looked forward to because they were nearly alone. Davos slipped his hand into Stannis' as though he'd outright asked for it. This was easily the pleasantest part of his day, when Davos could be near and they need not talk of governance. In fact, they spoke not at all as they made their way to the throne room hand-in-hand.
"One moment, Your Grace." Davos stopped them before they entered the throne room. Stannis waited patiently while Davos brushed invisible lint from his doublet, adjusted his crown, and smoothed his mantle.
"Am I presentable?" he asked, trying not to look too amused.
Davos paused, looking reluctant to answer, but Stannis soon saw he was merely reluctant to let Stannis go into the throne room. Perhaps he wasn't the only one who savored these moments of privacy.
"I suppose." Davos stepped back. "You have Lord Fell first, and then the Rosby claimants."
Stannis was tempted to rub his forehead, but refrained, as that would have dislodged his crown. "Ah yes. Cersei's leavings."
It rankled that not only had she attempted to usurp his throne, but she had not even bothered to get any business done whilst doing so.
With the approval of his Hand, Stannis passed through to the throne room to mount his pointed throne and do what had to be done.
Lord Fell had a border dispute, and this was easy to deal with. There was one clear, right answer to be found on the maps his great-grandfather Aegon V had commissioned in his day, not long after Lyonel Baratheon's rebellion. The landscape had not changed and Fell would have none of Stannis' Kingswood. If need be, Stannis would ride out and find the old boundary markers himself in the undergrowth.
Perhaps Fell was merely testing him to see how he would respond; he had always been Robert's man, and he no doubt resented his nephew's death in the North. Stannis was all the more determined to remain firm and show he was not the sort of king Robert had been.
Then, it was the Rosby claimants.
"Let us hear each of your cases, my lords," Davos said and Stannis braced himself.
There were three claimants: Rosby's ward and two distant blood relatives. Stannis soon lost track of how they actually claimed to be related, but there were books in the library describing every house's births and lines of descent he could consult. Stannis deferred his decision until then, to the obvious irritation of all three claimants.
The noon meal offered no relief from people asking for things, as Davos reminded him he was set to receive a contingent of minor Reachlords he absolutely was not allowed to dismiss out of hand.
"They feed the kingdom, sire," Davos reminded him, a hand between his shoulder blades steadying him and propelling him into the small dining hall. "You can hear their suggestions."
Demands, most like, Stannis thought, but he admired the way Davos was able to remain always diplomatic.
In truth, the weekly meals had been a brilliant compromise on Davos' part, as they let at least a few of the more patient supplicants know there was a set time in which their concerns that did not require formal petitions before the Iron Throne could be heard.
The Reachlords were indeed full of "suggestions" of how Stannis might oversee (fund, he substituted) land improvements to increase agricultural yield. Some of them did indeed have good suggestions, which Stannis made note of as Davos thanked them heartily.
Stannis stole an admiring glance at his Hand as the lords filed out after the meal.
"I may want to consult Lord Orren again," Stannis said, glancing at his notes. "He seems to have studied the new processes closely."
Davos nodded. "In that, I must confess to an ulterior motive, sire."
"Oh?" They were alone and Stannis took the opportunity to step closer, relishing another stolen moment. "What was that?" He rested a hand on Davos' waist.
Davos slipped his arms about Stannis' neck. Stannis refrained from pointing out that this was very unconventional behavior for a Hand towards his king. "I invited minor lords and landed knights because I deduced that they were closer to the land, closer to the concerns of ordinary people. Perhaps one day, it will not just be the highborn we receive here."
Stannis kissed his forehead. "That is a better ulterior motive than I suspect of any of my other courtiers."
There was an afternoon council meeting to attend to, but he supposed he was entitled to at least one kiss from his Hand before it. Perhaps two.
**
Two council meetings in one day, plus dining with them was exhausting and, Davos knew, straining for Stannis. This was why he knew exactly where to find the king.
The battlements were dark this long after sunset and only a few torches interspersed along the walls led Davos to his quarry.
"Forgive my delay, sire, there was one more matter to attend to."
Stannis made a noise halfway between a grunt of acknowledgement and a proper greeting. Davos slipped his arm through Stannis'.
"There will come a time, I hope, when we can leave off with constant council meetings."
"Once our reign is more established," Davos allowed.
Stannis squeezed his hand. Davos had once made the mistake of calling it "your reign" to which Stannis had replied that he could hardly claim responsibility for all of it.
"Indeed."
For a long few moments, they said nothing, merely enjoying each other's company and the sound and smell of the sea, not too distant. He knew Stannis was unsentimental, and he did not require sweet nothings from Davos either. All that mattered was their nearness, after having been through so much. However much Stannis disdained the more bureaucratic aspects of his kingship, he clearly was pleased with himself, which pleased Davos.
Stannis sighed and stepped away from the walls. He kept Davos' arm in his. "I suppose it is time for us to retire. Tomorrow will be much the same."
Davos smiled. He was not going to raise an argument against sleep, especially not when it would involve snuggling under warm furs with his king. Rest was a precious commodity, and Stannis was right that the next day would be much like this one. For now. Gradually, slowly, things would change, but that would take time. Stannis knew that, despite his grumblings. For now, though, there was plenty of work to be done.
Davos rested his head on Stannis' shoulder as they headed toward the king's bedchamber. There were benefits to being king, Davos decided, and after a long day, that large, cozy bed was chief among them.