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“Stannis Baratheon with a grievance was like a mastiff with a bone; he gnawed it down to splinters.”
Jon Snow of Stannis, A Dance with Dragons Jon I
DAVOS
“Only Robert can drive me to drink.” Davos and his lord were in Stannis’ captain’s cabin on board the warship Fury, moored off of Fair Isle.
Davos poured himself a cup of whatever was in the pitcher on Stannis’ desk. The liquid had a faint golden color, but Davos was willing to guess that was due to lemons. His suspicions were confirmed when he took a sip.
“Well,” began Davos slowly, “You’re not drinking tonight.” Stannis had been in a foul mood ever since leaving King Robert’s war council on Fair Isle. Robert couldn’t wait to take off Balon Greyjoy’s head himself, but before he could even set foot on any of the Iron Islands, Victarion Greyjoy’s Iron Fleet needed to be destroyed. Stannis, captaining the Baratheon flagship Fury, was set to lead the royal fleet into battle, after developing a clever plan to trap the Ironborn—well, depending if the squids fell for the trap or not, which Stannis and the rest of his commanders thought they would. But nothing was certain.
Stannis snorted. “Only a fool would drink the night before a battle, and my brother surrounds himself with them. And most of those are not wearing motley.”
“Many men find comfort in drink before a battle, as well as with a woman.”
“Yes, yes, the old adage ‘Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die!’ If the soldiers have clear heads when they listen to their commanders they have a better chance of seeing the morrow. Or if they have a commander who doesn’t charge directly at the enemy while damning all the consequences.”
“Lord Stark is not your brother, and he’s making sure that your brother won’t do something so careless with his forces. The king will heed Stark, for he has much love for him.”
Stannis ground his teeth, and his next words were laced with bitterness. “Ah yes, honorable, just, dutiful Ned Stark. I do not fault you for respecting the man, Davos, for I do as well. My advice to Robert would be much the same as Stark’s, but does he love me for it? Why does Robert warm to the man when they are complete opposites? Robert loves his wine, Stark nurses one glass during a feast. Robert lets other men like me rule his kingdom for him, shirking all responsibility, while Stark oversees everything north of the Neck himself because he believes that to be the right thing. Robert’s whored his way through the seven kingdoms, while Stark has stayed faithful to his Tully wife and took responsibility for his one other affair by raising his bastard in his castle—who, by the way, is growing up to look exactly like him.”
“Oh?” wondered Davos.
“That man never stops talking about his wife and children.”
“I see no harm in that.” Before Stannis had sailed the royal fleet around Dorne to its current position near Fair Isle, he had permitted Davos to spend some time with his wife and children on Cape Wrath. Davos still couldn’t get used to the fact that he held a strong keep in his own name, with his wife—now a lady in her own right—running it. It was always a joy to see his young boys, for now they were growing up as a knight’s sons with bright futures, rather than a smuggler’s sons growing up in fear of their father being captured and executed by the authorities.
“Stark should have talked to you instead of me when he wanted to talk about his deliriously happy marriage, two young boys, and an infant girl. And the boys are named after Robert and Jon Arryn, take that as you will. He apologized profusely for not being able to attend my wedding, which was fortunate for him because he got to miss the horrid display my brother made of himself, defiling my marriage bed. I swear on whatever gods are out there that that cursed my marriage; Selyse can hardly stand to look at me when I come to her bed and treat her as gently as I can. She hasn’t given me a child after four years of being wed to her, and so far that Lannister woman’s golden haired child stands to inherit the pile of rocks that Robert so generously gifted me with instead of Storm’s End.”
Davos took a long sip from his goblet, wondering if there was the faintest trace of alcohol in it that might account for his lord’s embittered rants over his brother and Ned Stark. He only tasted the tartness of lemons. Not that Stannis needs to have lost all of his faculties to revisit all of the old grievances against him, as I’ve begun to learn. I need to get his mind off of this subject.
Stannis gave a long sigh. “I am sorry that you must listen to me talk of such things, Ser Davos. You are too kind to hold grudges, and I fear that you are a better man than me in that sense.”
Davos quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? How do you know that I don’t hold grudges, and that I wouldn’t snatch at a chance to revenge against those who have wronged me?”
“Well,” began Stannis, as he looked at the floor. “Most men expect you to hold a grudge against me, and to rob me blind when you have the chance. It might not have been the most merciful thing that I have ever done, but it was just when I cleaved off your fingertips.”
Davos’ hand automatically went to the pouch around his neck.
“But I don’t think you hold anything against me,” continued Stannis, looking up to meet Davos’ eyes, “or else I’m being played for the biggest fool in the seven kingdoms.”
As Stannis looked at him with those deep, sea blue eyes of his, Davos registered all the hurt and grief that was buried in them, and also a hope beyond hope that one of the few goods things in his life really was as good as it seemed. It broke his heart to see his lord like that, and he wished he could find the words to comfort this grave and bitter young man.
“I am true and always will be, my lord. And I swear by the gods that there will never come a day when you will question my loyalty or will regret how much you’ve helped me and my family.”
“My family and I, that’s how a proper knight should speak,” muttered Stannis, though Davos didn’t quite catch that. But he did catch his lord’s softened and almost relieved expression in response to his words. Gently, Stannis took hold of Davos’ maimed left hand, running his thumb across the disfigured tips. Davos didn’t know why Stannis had recently taken to doing this. Perhaps it brought him some comfort, some small consolation that carrying out justice had won him a loyal friend. At first he was tempted to snatch his hand away, but given his lord’s somber mood, Davos thought against it.
“We make an odd pair, don’t we? A lord and his smuggler,” said Stannis in a low voice
STANNIS
“We make an odd pair, don’t we? A lord and his smuggler.”
Davos smiled. “Aye, I guess we do, my lord.” They were silent for a long while, until Davos said grudgingly, “With your permission, my lord, I would return to my ship, as the hour is growing late.”
He gave a slow nod, and released Davos’ hand, unaware that he had been holding it for so long. He watched him as he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.
Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die. Stannis scoffed as the words entered his mind. The gods had seen fit to give him little and less to be merry about. First his parents’ drowning, Robert denying him Storm’s End, then his miserable marriage, and now a damnable war with those slimy squids. He was in the prime of his youth, not yet twenty five, yet he sometimes felt like a haggard old man. What would he be doing, if tomorrow was truly his day to die?
He stalked around his cabin, his thoughts running every which way. He would like to see his parents again, have his father tell him how proud he was of the man Stannis was becoming and have his mother cup his face with her smooth hands and kiss him on the forehead. He would like to have little Renly come bounding up to him and hug him like the day when the Storm’s End siege was broken, while Robert clapped him on the back and thanked him for being such a dutiful brother. He would also like to be sitting on the great lord’s balcony of Storm’s End, young sons playing at his feet. But all those thoughts were flights of fancy that would never come true, and it was no use to dwell on them.
What could he realistically hope to be doing? He would like to have a long conversation with Ser Davos again, that was for certain, but one where he wasn’t preoccupied with such unpleasant thoughts and old grievances like tonight. His onion knight simply seemed to understand him in a way that few did, and Stannis was never afraid to be himself when he was in his company. And the man seemed to enjoy his company as well. He wondered what Davos’ maimed fingers would feel like slowly tracing his jaw and threading through his coal black hair, wondered how those lips that never failed to tell him the truth would feel against his.
Ser Davos was not a handsome man, and his features were unremarkable. Yet there was always kindness in his eyes when he looked at Stannis, a quiet understanding that Stannis had longed to receive from his wife or his brothers all his life. And Davos’ smile…a subtle thing, just a small upturn of the lips, but always sincere when it was directed at him. Stannis couldn’t remember the last time anyone had smiled at him in a way that was not in mocking.
Stannis ground his teeth and angrily shook his head, trying to clear the inappropriate visions from his mind. Davos was too honorable a man to ever entertain thoughts such as those or ever prefer a man in that way. Besides, the man was likely thinking of his loving wife as he drifted off to sleep now, not his lord.
It must be the strong drink, or else I’d never be having thoughts like these about my knight.
He took a long drink from his cup, swished the liquid around in his mouth, and promptly spat it out in disgust. There was no bitterness of wine on his tongue, just the flavor of lemons and water.
DAVOS
Victory was theirs, with the Iron Fleet all sunk or aflame. The crown’s losses were minimal, and Davos was very proud of how the men under his command and his lord had performed during the battle. At the conclusion of the battle, Stannis gave the signal for all the ships to come together so he could talk to all of the lords, captains, and commanders under him, to assess all damages and to make plans for how they would assist the king in helping land soldiers for a land invasion.
With all these high ranking men and thousands of soldiers all gathered in one place, a sudden recklessness took over Davos, much like the recklessness that he used to feel during a particular dangerous smuggling mission. He climbed up on to the bow of the Fury, faced the rest of the ship, and blew his horn to get the attention of all the soldiers on board. He knew that Stannis had been glaring daggers at him ever since he had leapt away from him, but he ignored his lord for the moment.
Once he could tell that he had all the eyes of the soldiers on him and his lord, he began: “Soldiers! Sailors! Lords! I am but a humble captain on Lord Stannis’ Lady Marya, named after my good wife. And I am as anxious to return to her as many of you men are to your wives, or to the pretty girl you saw in a tavern the other night!” Many of the soldiers laughed at that; some hooted.
“Victory would not have been ours today if it had not been for Lord Stannis Baratheon, Master of Ships at the Red Keep and commander of this royal fleet! He’s the one who devised the plan to surprise the Iron Fleet along coasts that they should know like the back of their hands, but apparently their sense failed them and they sailed directly into our trap!” More cheers could be heard.
“Before all you good men go off to celebrate your victory, please stay with me for a moment to acknowledge our valiant commander!”
“I will hang you for this, smuggler,” hissed Stannis beside him, as Davos jumped down from the bow and took Stannis’ right hand with his maimed left one and thrust it high in the air for all the men to see.
“STANNIS!” the men began to shout, first the men on the Fury, then the men who were nearby on Lady Marya. Soon the entire fleet was cheering for their commander, and for the first time since Robert, another Baratheon’s name was being shouted with joy by loyal men. “STANNIS! STANNIS! STANN-IS! STANN-IS! STANN-IS!”
Stannis had an iron grip around his hand, and Davos wondered how long it would take to get any feeling back in it. But he had to admit, hearing thousands of men cheering for his lord and seeing Stannis with a look of wonder on his face were worth more than all the riches he could ever imagine.