DAVOS

The true King's army was ready to march. Davos was overseeing the transfer of men into the ships of Dragonstone's navy. Since his defeat on the Blackwater, Stannis' forces had been utterly decimated, leaving less than ten thousand men loyal to him.

Ten thousand loyal men in the whole realm, Davos thought ruefully, although the realm shrinks every day.

Stannis and he had made detailed plans for their attack on King's Landing, but they'd had no word from King Robb. Another raven had arrived a short while after the first one, bringing them news that Galbart Glover was Robb Stark's Castellan of Casterly Rock and Acting Warden of the West. They also learned that Robb had called in the levies of all the Lords of the West, and a surprising number had accepted the call.

"It seems we have underestimated the Young Wolf," Stannis had said when the raven arrived.

"Aye," Davos replied, "and I hope the Lannisters will make the same mistake."

However, he was not so sure. Tywin Lannister, while arrogant and conceited beyond measure, was no fool. After Robb Stark tricked the Old Lion at the Battle of the Green Fork and broke the Siege of Riverrun, Davos was certain that Tywin Lannister would take no chances the next time the two fought.

Davos remembered seeing Tywin at the Blackwater, or at least, it might have been. The Lord of Casterly Rock had been surrounded by hundreds of armoured knights, all wearing scarlet armour, which ran red with their enemies' blood. He'd also seen Renly, or thought he had. It was some cruel trick of Tywin's; terrifying Stannis' bannermen into fleeing with the thought of their fallen leader risen up again to slay them for their treachery.

And those bloody Tyrells.

Whilst the entirety of the Stormlords and a great many Lords of the Reach came over to Stannis following Lord Renly's death, the Tyrells remained neutral. Lord Mace Tyrell had begun moving his host towards Bitterbridge before the news of Renly's death had even spread through the camp. He'd mustered there, and marched north soon after.

Davos had hoped, perhaps against his better judgement, that perhaps the Reach would join them in the Battle of the Blackwater, or even take some of the Westerlands from the south.

Davos had never been good at hoping.

Instead of joining with Stannis, the Tyrells had marched their strength to join with Tywin Lannister. Davos later learned that they had camped themselves at Bronzegate, awaiting further orders. It was likely that they would march on Dragonstone soon; news had reached Stannis that Lord Paxter Redwyne had begun to move his fleet from the Arbor.

Davos heard his King before he saw him. The same could not be said of that accursed Red Woman. Davos knelt before Stannis, who bade him rise almost instantly.

"I won't have you kneel Lord Davos," Stannis said sharply after Davos stood back up again, "You're my Hand, my most trusted advisor. I trust you to speak plainly to me, more so than that lickspittle Ser Axell. What do you think of our plan?"

"Your Grace, I cannot say that I have commanded many battles," Davos replied, "But your strategy seems to be sound."

Stannis had formulated a plan to wait just south of the Blackwater, out of sight of King's Landing, and sweep around the rear of the Lannister forces if and when a sortie came. It was a good strategy, and Stannis was sure that it would earn the gratitude of the Young Wolf if nothing else.

"For perhaps the first time in my life," the King in the Narrow Sea had declared the previous night, "my status as a Baratheon is moot. Perhaps a little of the diplomacy my brothers were famous for would not be amiss."

Let us hope that the Stark boy will not try to cross the true King. Stannis' good humour will not last.

Davos looked and saw with sadness how much older Stannis looked, even over the past few months. Stannis looked over the battlements, deep in thought. Davos joined him, and took a little pride in what they saw.

Seventy ships of varying sizes floated in the harbour, each one flying the flaming heart of Stannis. Less than half actually belonged to the King; the rest were either supplied by his few bannermen or by Salladhor Saan, the pirate prince.

Salladhor and Davos went back years. In the days when Davos was still a smuggler, Salla had helped him out of many tricky spots. As a result, the pirate had Davos' loyalty and trust, although the Onion Knight was certain the feeling was not shared by many of Stannis' highborn bannermen.

Stannis nodded thoughtfully, "King Robb said he was trying to win over Balon Greyjoy." Davos noted Stannis' use of the word 'King' "Have you seen anything in your fires?"

This last was directed to Melisandre, who frowned, silent for a moment, "My fires show me little in these recent weeks. I see fire and ice, I see storm and snow, I see a mighty beast being hacked apart by his inferiors."

"Enough of your riddles woman," Stannis growled, "give me something of use."

Melisandre gave her King a look that chilled even Davos. Stannis didn't even flinch, "I do not choose what the Lord shows me, but the coming battle will decide the future of your realm, my King."

Stannis thought on that for a moment, and Davos could practically feel his mind working. Everyone said that Tywin Lannister was the best commander in Westeros, perhaps the world, but Davos wasn't so sure. Tywin was fortunate in his birth; the firstborn son to the most powerful House in Westeros. Stannis, on the other hand, was not so lucky. He would have been hard pressed to gain a castle of his own, being the second son of Lord Steffon Baratheon, much less command any great armies. However, in the years after Robert's Rebellion, Stannis had proven himself to be an able commander; he commanded the Royal Fleet during the Greyjoy Rebellion, and captured Great Wyk in the name of his brother, the King.

Even during this War of Five Kings, Stannis had, against all the odds stacked against him, had survived, and still had strength enough to be consulted by the true frontrunners in the war, the Starks. Davos knew little of House Stark, and less of its members. Stannis was well acquainted with Eddard Stark, but Davos knew deep down that there was little love between them. Respect, aye, Davos thought solemnly, But Robert loved Eddard more than he ever would Stannis, his trueborn brother, and Stannis has always resented that.

Davos was also unsure of the intentions of Robb Stark, Eddard's eldest son. Davos liked to think that he was a trusting man by nature, but the Young Wolf had not done his duty; he had not sworn fealty to Stannis, and, now that his bannermen had made him a king, he likely never North remembers, Davos thought, and they remember when they were ruled by themselves, and not by a Stag.

"How soon can we get to King's Landing?"

"It is hard to say, Your Grace," Davos replied thoughtfully, "If the winds are true, then perhaps a few days, but I cannot be sure until we leave."

Stannis nodded once again. "Thank you, Lord Davos. When you have taken your leave of me, ready your men."

"Your Grace?"

"We shall sail as soon as we can. Tonight."

"Your Grace, with all due respect –"

"My lord father taught me that nothing said after those words was respectful," Stannis interrupted, his tone icy, his eyes two balls of blue fire, "But I would have you speak your mind."

When Davos spoke again, it was softer than before, "Your Grace, I hardly think that the men are ready for another battle. And the winds are, if anything, the opposite of favourable –"

"The Lord of Light will ensure our swift voyage." Melisandre murmured serenely before Stannis glared at her. What happens here?

"Surely it would be better to wait for a different time," Davos spoke on, doing his best to ignore the ominous words of the Red Priestess, "otherwise, you put yourself and your men at great risk."

Stannis locked eyes with his Hand before speaking, "This is the time. And I will risk everything."

Davos' heart sank. He hadn't been expecting anything different, really. Such was Stannis Baratheon.

"See that my daughter is ready to go," Stannis said, after a long moment of silence, "I want her to come with us."

"Your Grace, again I must protest!" Davos said, No, not the little princess! He wanted to scream, Please keep her here where she'll be safe, "Wouldn't it be safer for her here?"

"Tell me something, Lord Davos," Stannis growled, his voice sharp and commanding, "Do you know the Lannisters? In all your years of smuggling, did you ever once hear the tale of the Reynes and Tarbecks? If Tywin Lannister hears that I have left Dragonstone with no garrisoned he will bring the full force of his wrath upon my daughter. I will not let that happen. Go, Lord Seaworth. Must I ask you a third time?"

"No," Davos replied, sensing his lost battle, "I understand, Your Grace."

He bowed, and took his leave, walking into the bowels of Dragonstone. The castle had been raised over five hundred years ago by the Valyrian Freehold, and was the furthest west the dragonlords ever expanded. The first Targaryen to hold the castle was Aenar the Exile, who travelled there twelve years before the Doom. He was scorned when he did, called a craven. His was the only line to survive the Doom.

Shireen's chambers were at the top of the Stone Drum, overlooking the Narrow Sea. They were well furnished, and it was clear that they were well lived in. The little princess was sitting cross-legged on her bed, reading a heavy tome. Shireen would have been pretty, if not for the greyscale on her face. She had long black hair and intelligent blue eyes. Her ruined face broke into a smile when she saw the Hand of the King.

"Davos!" Shireen squealed and ran towards him. Davos feigned injury when she hugged him, "I haven't seen you in ages. Have you been with father?"

"I have, little princess," he replied, smiling back at her, "What are you reading?"

Shireen pulled a face, like she'd bitten a particularly sour lemon, "It's a boring book about maesters. Why do I have to learn about boring things like that? I'd much rather learn about history, about the Kings of Winter, or perhaps the First Men. I don't know much about them, and I probably should, shouldn't I?"

"Why is that then, princess?"

The part of Shireen's face that wasn't cracked flushed a vibrant scarlet, "Well, I-I'm supposed to – um – you know."

Confusion flittered across Davos' mind for a moment, and then he remembered. Brandon, he thought, She thinks of Lord Brandon. Stannis had not spoken to his Hand of the match since he'd mentioned accepting it. Presumably a conversation with Shireen had followed the raven's arrival.

"You're speaking of your marriage to Brandon Stark, yes?" Davos chuckled, causing Shireen to redden even more, "Why does it worry you so princess?"

"Isn't he crippled?" Shireen didn't say it like it was a hateful thing, rather as if she was afraid of something.

"Princess, I hardly think that that's a huge problem. I'm sure Prince Brandon is –"

"Won't the other Lords all hate him?" Shireen's pleading eyes took the Onion Knight off balance, "They'll laugh at him, call him – call him the Cripple King, and I'll be a stupid Cripple Queen at the same time, and they'll hate us both, and –"

It suddenly dawned on Davos that Shireen didn't resent Brandon his injuries; rather she was worried for him. He rushed to interrupt her, "They might. It is possible that the other Lords will resent your – um – betrothed, but it will not be because he is crippled."

"What – what do you mean?"

Oh little princess. How lucky you are to know so little of the ways of the world, "Men always want what they do not have." Davos trawled through his mind, searching for a way to explain this, "Brandon will be king, and they will want his power and position. You will be the Queen, and they will envy your strength and sweetness. Men resent your father, but he is as able-bodied as any of them. They resent him because of his blood. Those men who smile sweetly to your face, but curse your name when you turn your back are no true men, nor are they your true supporters."

Shireen still looked unsure, so he tried to console her another way, "And besides, I am sure Brandon is a gentle boy. King Robb would not give you any other, and your father would not accept a monster. He loves you greatly – more than you know. He wouldn't give you up for anything."

Despite the conviction in his voice, a nagging doubt forced its ugly way into Davos' mind. I will risk everything, Stannis had said. And Davos Seaworth found himself praying, to the Seven, to the Old Gods, to whomever the hells was listening; Don't let him risk her. Please.

Shireen, however, seemed satisfied with the Onion Knight's words. She smiled warmly, and Davos felt his heart warming at the sight. She is too good for this life, he thought sadly, too good for this world of hurt.

"I thank you for your counsel, Lord Davos," Shireen said, grinning mischievously, "But I believe my father would have me pack my things."

Davos chuckled, and kissed his little princess' head. He walked down the corridor out to where Stannis was still standing, still looking out over the ships. There were less than a hundred men in the castle now, and even they were beginning to trickle out of the gates.

Stannis looked to his Hand, "Is she ready?"

"She's just finishing, Your Grace," Davos replied, nodding as he did so.

"Very well," the King replied, "Get yourself onto your boat, Lord Seaworth. We have a long sail ahead of us."

Davos looked out over the bay for a second, gauging the direction of the waves, "Aye. The wind is most fair. The Red Woman's god is smiling on us today, Your Grace."

"I don't need him smiling today." Stannis snapped, although there was more than a hint of a smile in his voice, "I'd have him smile for the battle."

"I'll offer him my own prayer," Davos replied, and for once he meant it, "Men seem to delight in laughing when they see me. Hopefully gods are of the same temperament."

A flicker of a smile graced Stannis' features then, and Davos took his leave. He strode confidently towards his ship, Black Betha, and took the wheel when he got to the helm. To his right was Ser Meryn Storm, and to his left stood his first mate, a man Davos had not yet met. He didn't need to know him yet though. There would be time for that after the battle.

He nodded to the man, who called for the sail to be lowered. Twenty yards of rough cloth lowered, and Davos smiled to see his sigil unfurled. The men below started to row, but the effort did not seem needed. Davos turned, and caught a final glimpse of Shireen at the prow of Stannis' own ship.

I'll see you again Princess, Davos promised, After this battle, I'll see you again.

Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear any constructive criticism or feedback you guys have, either through a review on here, or to my Tumblr page, where I try and post snippets;

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