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“Your plant’s dying.”
Stannis looked up over the top of his glasses to where the man with greying hair sat in the corner of the square office. Then Stannis turned his attention to the offending plant, its leaves brown and curling up. The soil was bone-dry. “I don’t notice it’s there,” Stannis admitted, frowning at it. He nudged the pot, and a leaf tumbled down onto his desk. “I’ll throw it away.”
“I could… try to save it.”
“Who are you again?” Stannis asked, peering at him.
“I came to fix the light.”
“The light.” Stannis frowned at the lamp on his desk. “Right. And I told you to…”
“Be quiet and sit down on this chair until you were ready.”
“Well, you didn’t do a good job of being quiet.”
The man huffed a laugh. “All due respect, sir, that was half an hour ago.”
“Was it?” Stannis blinked and threw his hands up. “Fine. Do what you need with the light.”
The man smiled and stood up, walking towards the desk. “I assume you changed the bulb?”
Stannis glared at him. “I am not a complete idiot.”
The man just grinned, eyes sparkling with good humour. “Just checking. Going through the list, as it were.”
“The list.”
“Yeah, of all the reasons this lamp could be broken. I guess you’ve checked the plug is switched on at the wall?” Stannis just stared at him. The man flashed him a grin. “Would you prefer I took the lamp with me, or shall I fix it here?”
“Well, it’s no good to me if it’s not working, is it?” Stannis snapped. “Take the damned lamp.”
“And the plant?”
“Yes, yes, take the plant.” Stannis returned to his computer. He opened his most recent report, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He sat in impatient silence as the man unplugged his lamp and took it in hand, holding the plant pot under his arm. As he left, Stannis was sure he was still smiling.
The lamp was returned to its rightful place by the time Stannis got to work the next morning. He flicked the switch and it worked, and it didn’t strain his eyes as much to work at his computer.
He gave no more thought to the maintenance man, nor the fact he had stolen his plant.
That was until a fortnight later, when the plant re-appeared on Stannis’ desk, the soil damp, the leaves greener, the stalk taller. Stannis narrowed his eyes at it, as though it had invaded his territory.
His eyes flicked between the computer and the plant. Using just his index finger, he pushed it further along the desk. Satisfied it had returned to its precise location, he began his work for the day.
“Your plant’s dead.”
Stannis glared up at his brother, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s not dead, it’s dying. I’ve seen it in a worse state.”
Renly raised his eyebrows. “Are you… going to do anything about it?” he asked. “You know to… try to resurrect it?”
“It only needs water.”
“I know.” Renly tilted his head. “But are you actually going to give it water?”
“Yes,” Stannis snarled. And he grabbed his mug and tipped the remainder of his coffee into the pot. “Satisfied?”
Renly took a step backwards towards the door. “Okay. Right. I’m going to…” He gestured to the door. “Come back another time. Just so I don’t end up as dead as the plant.” And with that, he turned and slammed the door closed behind him.
Stannis glared at the door. His plant was just fine.
His plant was not fine. His plant had rejected coffee as a substitute for water and was definitely closer to death than it had ever been. Stannis was pretty sure it was past the point of no return.
And the next day, it didn’t matter. Because someone had taken his plant away, clearly deciding it was too far gone.
He had no emotional ties to his plant, and its disappearance gave him more space on his desk. It was no great loss.
Except his desk was no longer balanced. The plant had neatly reflected his stack of books on the other side of the long table, providing him with a cosy working environment.
But he would learn to live without it. He was clearly not cut out for looking after living things beside himself. He only had to look at Renly to know it.
But the plant returned. It appeared on his desk one day, not accompanied by a note. But Stannis somehow knew it was the same one, reinvigorated and certainly alive.
He wasn’t sure whether to be angry that someone had broken into his office, or intrigued that someone had chosen to care.
He chose to ignore both feelings, and to simply put the plant on its rightful place on his desk. He planned to take better care of it this time.
Of course, he forgot to do that. Watering his plant was never a priority. And yet, this time, it survived. It seemed to survive being knocked off his desk following a bitter disagreement with Robert. It even survived being left on the windowsill during the hottest summer months. Its soil never dried. Instead it got stronger. So strong, in fact, that Stannis was forced to put it into a larger pot and move it to a table in the corner of his office.
He took another plant to work, a smaller one, one he could place on his desk.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Stannis had just reached his door, plant in his arms, and he spun around to where the maintenance man stood on a ladder, one hand reaching up to do something to the air conditioning vent.
Stannis frowned at him. “I can look after a plant.”
The man grinned and shrugged. “Sure,” he said.
Stannis huffed a breath and took his plant into his office, settling it onto his desk. Clearly he could look after his plant. The first one had thrived. Well… Eventually.
Both plants were dying. And it was distracting. He had kept on top of watering them. He’d fed them the plant food they sold at those gardening centres. He’d done pretty much everything he could have done to keep them alive and yet…
He blinked at the knock of the door. The maintenance man was stood there, screwdriver in hand. The man tilted his head. “I heard your shelf was broken.”
“No,” Stannis replied. “My PA’s shelf. Not me.”
“Right. Beg your pardon.” The man turned to leave.
“Wait,” Stannis called after him. The man spun back around, a soft smile on his face. “I killed my plants,” Stannis said. “Again.”
The man just continued to smile, taking a few steps towards the desk. He touched the plant’s stem, assessing it. “It’s still alive. Just. I think you over-watered it.”
“For the love of…” Stannis took a breath. “Fine. Can you take them? Throw them away? Do something with them. I don’t care. But I can’t look after them. I absolve myself of the responsibility.”
The man laughed. “I’ll come back for them later,” he said.
Stannis nodded his head. “Good.”
It wasn’t good. It was a stupid thing, to feel like such a failure, simply for an inability to keep two plants alive. He didn’t think about it often, but when he did, he noticed how his desk felt unbalanced, and he missed the sense of achievement from watching his plants grow.
It wasn’t unusual, to ponder why he was incapable of looking after living things. Why he couldn’t even manage the basics in human affection, why his younger brother appeared to despise him most of the time, despite the years Stannis had sacrificed to bringing him up.
Yet he still hated the sense of failure.
Stannis saw the maintenance man most mornings, pottering around the building, fixing things, building things. Stannis was always tempted to ask about his plants, yet he felt stupid for doing so.
Eventually he learned the man’s name. Davos. It was Davos.
Davos fixed Stannis’ desk drawer after he wedged it shut by trying to fill it with one too many notebooks. He stopped the door from squeaking every time it opened.
Davos did small things, like change the time on the clock when British Summer Time ended. He adjusted Stannis’ chair when his back ached after one too many nights hunched over his computer until the early hours. He changed the air conditioning settings, depending on the predicted weather for the day.
Davos was remarkably useful, and Stannis admitted as much as the man put a new bulb into his desk lamp.
Davos smiled at him. “It’s just my job,” he said, checking everything was in working order.
“Yes,” Stannis murmured, realising he was stupid to think Davos was ever doing more than that with his considerate actions. “Yes, of course it is.”
Stannis found himself hovering around the atrium sometimes, watching Davos with his head in the ceiling while he fixed a light or checked the air conditioning. Or when he was bent over a plug socket, checking all was in working order.
It was a curious thing, but he admired his ability to be so practical.
Davos could talk to everyone and anyone. He was liked by everyone in the building, respected and admired.
He could be friends with anyone he wanted, Stannis thought. Funny though, how he always went home alone.
“Do you need something?”
Stannis blinked, staring up at Davos, who stood in the doorway to his office.
“No,” Stannis said. “Why? Did you think I did?”
“No. I don’t know. I just saw you today and had a feeling you needed something fixing, but you didn’t want to ask or something.”
“No. Everything’s fine.”
Davos flashed him a smile. “Alright then. My mistake.” He turned to leave.
“My plants…”
Davos looked back at him over his shoulder. “Do you want them back?” he asked.
“Are they even alive?”
Davos grinned. “Yeah, thriving. I’ll bring them back if you want them. I’ll even look after them for you, if you want?”
“I doubt that’s in your job description.”
“No, it’s not, but it doesn’t take much to swing by and give them a water.”
“Fine then,” Stannis agreed. “Thank you.”
He didn’t truly expect Davos to bring him the plants. He thought Davos would think the whole thing was ridiculous. But the plants returned, and Davos was true to his word and kept them watered and kept them happy.
Stannis was usually at his desk and working when Davos arrived, watering can in hand. He would only spend a minute or two in Stannis’ office, but they were minutes Stannis came to look forward to.
Davos would always smile, tell him what jobs he had on during the day, then leave Stannis to his work. It was inane conversation, yet comforting in its predictability.
Stannis hardly noticed at first, but soon he was asking Davos questions. He learned a little about his divorce, his work. He learned that Davos’ dream was to own a houseboat. That his favourite plants were orchids, because they were beautiful, yet notoriously difficult to care for.
“They’re awkward buggers,” Davos explained, as he took a seat in the corner of Stannis’ office. “They need all the right conditions to survive, but they’re not necessarily conditions you can create in your own home. They love light, but it has to be north-facing. And the water has got to come from a kettle. Not too cold, but it can’t be hot either.”
“Why bother?” Stannis asked, frowning. “You can get plenty of attractive plants with less fuss.”
Davos flashed him a smile and shrugged. “Maybe I just like a challenge,” he said. “It’s not like I’ve got anything else to take care of.” And then he frowned, shuffled in his chair and left immediately after, as though afraid he’d said too much.
“Your plants are still alive.”
Stannis raised his eyebrows at Renly. “I had noticed,” he said.
“I can’t believe you’re actually taking care of your plants.”
“Is there something you wanted?”
“Yes, I wanted you to sign these.” Renly put the papers down on Stannis’ desk. “Are you seriously taking care of these for yourself?”
“I. No.”
“No?”
“No, a man comes and he waters them for me.”
Renly snorted a laugh. “Oh, I should have known.”
Stannis pointed to the door. “Out,” he snapped.
Renly didn’t put up a fight.
Stannis wasn’t so sure why he was offended by Renly’s sentiments. It was hardly surprising his brother didn’t expect him to be considerate of anything. He seemed to carry resentments on his shoulders as easily as he put on his designer clothes in the morning. Stannis knew he was focused, sometimes too focused. He knew he suffered with tunnel-vision, and often couldn’t see beyond his work. But he tried. He always tried.
Yet he knew if his plants had a voice, they would never have chosen for Stannis to buy them. They would have known he was trouble from the beginning, and would have begged for someone more attentive, someone more caring.
“I want you to take them,” Stannis told Davos. He had both plants on his desk, their pots in plastic bags to make them easier to carry. “Both of them. Take them away.”
Davos hesitated before closing the door. “Y’want me to take your plants?”
“I don’t want them. I want them gone.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Yes, you can ask why, but no, you may not ask.”
Davos narrowed his eyes at him. “I can take them until you’re ready to have them back.”
“I don’t want them back. I want them gone. Forever. No more plants.”
“Are you okay?”
Stannis frowned at him. “What has that got to do with anything?”
“Just… Well, you like these plants. You must do, or you wouldn’t have bothered with them for this long.”
“They’re too much hassle.”
Davos laughed. “You don’t look after them, I do. And they’re not too much hassle for me.”
“I just need you to take them from me,” Stannis ground out through clenched teeth. “Get rid of them. Put them somewhere better, take them home, throw them in a skip, do what you will. Just get them out of this office.”
“Alright,” Davos murmured warily, picking them up. “I’ll hang onto them. And then… when you want them back you only have to ask.”
“I won’t want them back,” Stannis promised. “They’re all yours.”
With his plants gone, Stannis no longer had any living thing relying on him in any way.
With his plants gone, Stannis no longer saw Davos every day.
He didn’t notice at first, not for the first few days. But then it began to become obvious. The space on his desk and in the corner of his office became more apparent.
He only ever spoke about work with the people he encountered. His back ached from hunching over his computer. His office was always too hot or too cold, and he could never get his air conditioning settings right, not like Davos had done for him.
And when he allowed himself to think about it, he wasn’t sure if it was the plants he missed, or Davos’ company.
His lamp broke. The darned thing had always been temperamental, but apparently it couldn’t survive being pushed off the desk as Stannis wrestled with his own frustrations over the way Robert was running the company.
He stared down at the shattered glass, with a pathetic sense of loss.
There was a knock on the door and Davos let himself in. “Everything okay?” His eyes landed on the lamp. He turned his attention back to Stannis. “Are you okay?”
“It fell.”
“I see that.”
“Why were you here so quickly?” The words came out with far more aggression that Stannis had intended.
Davos narrowed his eyes. “I was just downstairs. Heard a crash. I’ll go and get a bag to put all of this mess in.”
Stannis paused. “Is it beyond fixing?” he asked.
“I…” Davos frowned and knelt down beside the broken lamp, inspecting it. “Honestly? Yeah, I think so.”
It didn’t matter, it was just a lamp. Just a lamp and just some plants. And yet…
“I like my things to…” Stannis frowned to himself. “Just as they are. I like things to stay just as they are.”
Davos looked up at him from the floor. “I know,” he said softly, eyes filled with unexpected and unnecessary compassion. “I’ll see if I can find you a replacement which looks the same.”
Davos was as good as his word. By the next morning, a matching lamp was on Stannis’ desk. And on his desk and in the corner of the room were the plants.
Stannis pondered the issue for the next fortnight, as Davos came and went, watering the plants and adjusting Stannis’ chair and changing the air conditioning settings.
“Your plant’s dying.”
Stannis looked up at Davos, and then at the plant on his desk. He had noticed it a few days ago. It had begun to look a bit deflated, and gradually the leaves were falling off.
“I think it’s… finished,” Stannis agreed. “It happens. Plants don’t live forever.”
“No,” Davos agreed, walking to the desk and checking it. “No, it’s done okay, considering.”
“Considering I own it?”
Davos shook his head. “No, considering it gets no fresh air or direct sunlight.”
“Take the plant and throw it away,” Stannis told him. “It’s no good to me now.”
Davos nodded. “Sure. Do you need anything else?”
“No.” He watched as Davos reached for the plant. Without thinking, Stannis lifted his hand, wrapping it around Davos’ forearm. Their eyes met.
“Are you okay?” Davos asked.
“I think I should have a cactus,” Stannis murmured. “I heard a rumour they’re easier to look after. They don’t need so much watering.”
Davos smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes. Something about him almost looked sad. “Yeah, I don't think they do," Davos agreed. "Bit prickly though. Gotta… gotta make sure you don’t knock them over, or you’ll end up with a hand full of spines.”
“Perhaps I won’t keep it on my desk.”
Davos rested his hand on Stannis’, the contact soothing and warm. “I think if you put it on a shelf then it’ll be fine. It’ll have its space but it’ll still be in your office.”
Stannis dropped his hand. “You take the plant,” he murmured.
Davos nodded and carried it away.
It was a few days later when Davos invited Stannis to the garden centre. They went on a Saturday afternoon, and browsed the orchids and the cacti. They each went away with a plant.
Stannis kept his at home, and it seemed to survive there. He invited Davos for dinner. They ate on the decking, watching the sun go down.
The dinners got more frequent. Stannis told Davos about looking after Renly after their parents had died, when Robert disappeared for months on end. Davos told him about his wife, beautiful and carefree, but a woman who ultimately needed more space than Davos could give her.
“I’d been alone all my life,” Davos admitted, staring into his wine glass. “Ever since I was a kid. I didn’t want to be married and yet still be on my own.”
They went back inside to clean the plates, and Davos checked on the cactus. “Seems to be thriving,” he said.
Stannis leaned against the counter. “I remember to water it. It’s right by the coffee machine, so I can’t forget about it easily.”
Davos laughed and turned to face him. “You know… you’re not as bad at looking after things as you think you are.”
“You’re better at it than me,” Stannis told him.
“I’m not. I just choose things which need a little more TLC.” He looked away, staring out of the window into the dark garden. “Maybe I give too much, I don’t know.”
Stannis frowned at him. “Is that possible?” he asked.
Davos shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like my marriage ended because I was never there. She was just… a free spirit, and me? Well, I just kept waiting for her to come home.”
Stannis watched him for a few moments. The truth was, Davos’ care for him had always been surprising, yet appreciated. He’d missed him when he was gone, and took comfort in the smallest of gestures. The truth was, he’d never felt so cared for in his life. He stepped towards him, reaching out as though to cup his cheek. “May I?” he asked.
Davos nodded, and Stannis gently rested his hand against his bearded cheek. “I don’t think it’s possible to look after anything too well,” he said gently.
“She said I…”
Stannis rested his thumb over Davos’ bottom lip. “Shh,” he soothed. “For once, will you please let someone take care of you?”
“I don’t know how,” Davos whispered.
“We’ll work it out,” Stannis promised. And with only a little hesitation, he closed the gap, and he kissed him. Davos kissed him back.
Months later, an orchid stood beside a cactus on a windowsill next to a coffee machine.