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He remembers seeing the captain of a war ship, part of the Royal Fleet; the man and his daemon an albatross. He was in clothes that Davos could only ever dream of wearing, crisp and clean with gold buttons that shone in the sun in a way that suggested they’d never been encrusted with dried salt from the sea. Davos and Fidaelyr knew this to be untrue though, he’d seen this man before, he was sure, how could anyone miss a bird such as this? Her straight beak that comes to a nasty little hook at the end, her feathers so sleek and together, never even one out of place and her eyes hidden by an angry shadow making every looking stern and unforgiving.
No, this man was of the sea, no-one who saw the albatross could say otherwise, but today the King and his Lords were to visit the ships, today the men had to look ‘proper’.
“It’s rude to stare, boy” the daemon says to him.
He tenses and prepares to run, it’s no good to be noticed by those in power, it’s a lesson he’s been taught many times by the gold coats who beat children who dared to let their daemons try upon the form of a dragon. Street urchins were not to sully the reputation of such a noble creature. The same men who caught boys stealing only to pocket the goods themselves.
“You needn’t run boy, least not yet.” The captain chuckles, well worn crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, “find somewhere high up and you might catch a glimpse of royalty today.”
He finds his voice now, encouraged by the friendliness that this sailor, (mayhaps his idol, if he were to ever let his dreams so high), shows him.
“Is it true ser, that the king’s daemon is a dragon? That she breathes real fire? That she has three heads?”
Davos asks the questions in earnest, he’d heard from his friend’s brother who had gotten friendly with a serving girl who knew a maid in the Red Keep that all the Targaryens were dragons and wedding with each other produced dragons with three heads, all capable of breathing real fire, burning anyone but those of Targaryen blood. It sounded fanciful nonsense, but amazing at the same time, how useful would it be to light your own fire? To never be cold again?
“Whose tales are those boy? The King’s daemon Phaentys is a dragon it’s true, and she breaths fire. Flames enough to burn a man. Though she won’t be doing that anywhere near my ship, to be sure. But like all dragons, she’s only got the one head and that’s more than enough.” He gave Davos a wink and a smile, though his daemon looked to be rolling her eyes.
“Morwood’s arrived” she said quietly to the Captain, looking past Davos.
“Aye, be off with you now boy, find that high place and tell your friends that the dragon you’ve seen with your own eyes has seven heads and not three!”
Davos smiled at the joke and saluted “Aye aye captain!” And Fi flits from the water rat she was to an albatross chick, though with far too much down to be compared to the great bird. The Captain gave a jolly laugh and even his daemon deigned to look amused.
Turning to run off he bumped into the man that could only be Morwood, a haughty looking younger man dressed finely with a red-footed booby for his daemon.
“Sorry ser” Davos muttered as he kept going, slipping into the swell of people that was growing.
“Ugh. Off with you urchin!” Morwood spat as he swung his hand, just clipping to the top of Davos’ head. “Must you consort with these urchins Sael?”
Truth be told, Davos cared little for the appearance of the King at the port, as much as he’d like to brag of the seeing a dragon daemon, a true dragon daemon. No, it was the sailors and the finery he knew they would be wearing, and their gold shiny buttons.
Fi as a brown rat came out of his shirt, gold button clasped tightly in her paws. Smiling he looked at it quickly before tucking it into his pocket.
“The captain with the albatross cleaned his better” Fi remarked.
Davos smiled and tickled her under the chin. He thought of what the button might buy them, two weeks meals if he could get a fair price, which he wouldn’t. Or maybe enough to join a ship, not the Royal Navy, but a boat with a captain with fewer scruples and chances of recognising the button.
“Better than the booby ay?” he paused, “What do you think of an albatross then?”
Fidaelyr changed back again to the fluffy chick of an albatross, they both looked thoughtfully. She flapped her downy wings and gave a few flat footed steps around.
They shared a look and she climbed back up his arm, as a sea otter cub, he’d seen them around the port previously, he’d thought they were swimming rats from afar at first. But not quite.
“Nay, not an albatross then.” He said resigned.
“Nay” she replied, disappointed herself.
“Who are we to think so grand?” he asked with a soft chuckle, “we were not to captain any ship so proper.”
They’d reached the dodgy end of the port where foreigners of questionable motive traded with those of equally suspicious intent. These were the ships he could see himself with.
Seeing his forlorn look, Fi scurried down his arm and changed again to the albatross chick, mock saluting him and thinking the words they’d never dare say out loud.
Caption Davos of the Royal Navy