DAVOS
"Row faster, row for the true King!"
Axell Florent's words were likely lost on the dozens of rowers on-board Black Betha, as they thundered towards King's Landing for the second time in a year. Davos prayed to the Seven that this battle would not end like the last.
He closed his eyes and the images of his four eldest sons swam before his mind. Davos smiled, remembering the days when they were young, and felt his age when he remembered that they had been grown men a year ago. Then their images were consumed in flames and screams, and Davos' eyes snapped open.
That won't happen again. Believe in your king.
The winds had been as favourable as Melisandre had predicted, much to Davos' frustration. He looked across to where she stood; at the prow of the boat, looking out over the turbulent waters of Blackwater Bay. Her long red hair whipped in the fierce wind, and Davos thought she looked rather like a goddess; as though she could stand in that position for eternity and never be moved.
Almost as though she could read his mind, Melisandre turned and beckoned the Onion Knight towards her. Davos grunted angrily and strode towards the prow.
"You are afraid, my Lord." Melisandre's voice was soft as ever, yet Davos still heard it over the roar of the waves and the shouts of the Florent knight.
"This wouldn't be the first time His Grace has lost a battle in these waters," Davos replied wearily, "I wouldn't say afraid, more cautious."
"You fear for the King's life," Melisandre purred in that strange accent of hers, "but you need not fret, Lord Seaworth. He is the Lord's Chosen, and the sinful Lannisters will kneel before him or be crushed."
Davos wished he shared the priestess' optimism, but he could not dismiss the cold feeling that lay within his heart. Stannis had lost here, and with better odds too. He voiced these concerns to Melisandre, who laughed them off breezily.
"Have faith, my Lord," her eyes locked on his, and Davos saw fire within them, "R'hllor has shown me a great triumph on the field today, yet also a great tragedy behind the walls of King's Landing."
Davos misliked the sound of that, "What do you mean?"
The Red Woman almost smiled as she said the next words, "Dark wings, dark words my Lord. Dark wings, dark words."
She left him at the prow with that, leaving him to ponder the words that he had just heard. Davos did not like to think of himself as a particularly superstitious man, yet that phrase had proven true many times during his journeys. Whose wings? Whose words?
He shook his head to clear it, and turned back to the bow of the boat where his second in command stood, holding Black Betha's course steady. Davos relieved the man for a moment, and let him go down belowdecks. The man was clearly tired and needed rest. Davos suddenly thought it odd that he neither wanted nor seemed to need to sleep; his stomach was a wriggling pit of vipers that threatened to consume his insides.
He was about to turn away and try to find Stannis, when something caught his eye. A flash of gold caused Davos to turn towards the fast approaching coastline. When he realised what he was looking at his eyes went wide as dishes.
Gods be good…
The Lannisters had made a rush from King's Landing, and the Young Wolf's lines were buckling under the might of Tywin Lannister's surprise attack. Davos stood frozen for a moment, his mouth hanging open, before he leapt into action. He bellowed at his men to row as though their lives depended on it – which they very likely did – before rushing belowdecks to speak with his King.
Stannis had come over to Black Betha on the third day of their voyage, saying that he wanted to be with his advisors, and he told them that the Whirlwind was well in hand. Stannis had taken the ship from Salladhor Saan, the pirate lord, and renamed and repainted the ship, promising to repay the rightful owner once the battle was over and he sat the Iron Throne.
But that eventuality was looking less and less likely every moment.
"Your Grace!" Davos cried as he burst into Stannis' cabin.
The King looked up sharply. He had been poring over some maps with Melisandre, Ser Rolland Storm and Ser Richard Horpe, two men that many favoured as the next Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
"My Lord Hand," Stannis spoke curtly, "is something amiss?"
"The Lannisters," Davos was breathless, his heart pounding in his ears, "have begun an assault on the northern forces! The Stark boy is overwhelmed!"
A flurry of emotions crossed the King's face in that instant. Confusion, understanding and worry were soon replaced with an iron determination, and Davos felt like he was waiting for what came next, no matter what else.
Stannis turned to Ser Rolland and Ser Richard, "See that the fleet arrive at the beach as soon as possible. We do not turn back today."
The two knights nodded, before striding from the room. Stannis spoke again, this time to Melisandre
"What have you seen in your fires, my Lady?"
Melisandre told Stannis all that she had told Davos, but then she spoke more, "This battle decides the way the war against the dark will be fought," Melisandre's voice was hushed, carrying none of the extravagance that it usually did, "the fates of thousands will be made and unmade on this battlefield. Hush now, the valonqar approaches."
Valonqar?
"The little brother," Stannis said softly, "High Valyrian, yes? Is it me, then? What do I do?"
"That is all the flames will tell me," Melisandre's voice was barely a whisper, "Now attend to your army, my King. You will have need of your sword."
Stannis gritted his teeth, and Davos followed him out onto the deck. Three hundred fighting men were assembled at the front of the ship, each one a veteran of the last Battle of the Blackwater. Stannis nodded grimly at them.
"Today is not the day for speeches," the King's voice rang out across the boat, and Davos felt as though it could be heard all across the armada, "Today is the day for battle, for blood, for death. But it will not be our death. Today we take back what is ours. Today we are victorious. Today we exact vengeance for those who have died for our cause. Come with me and take this city!"
The roar that accompanied these words was immense, and Davos felt himself buoyed by the strength and passion of his King's words. Stannis drew Lightbringer and the fabled sword blazed through the air.
The next thing Davos knew, they were on the beach, and they were running. He had his own sword out, and he was vaguely aware of Ser Meryn Storm at one side and Stannis at the other. He heard Ser Richard Horpe roaring at the men to form up into lines and he saw Ser Rolland Storm bull through those lines to be at Stannis' side when the battle was joined.
And then they met the Lannister rear.
Davos didn't even register that he was about to kill someone until he felt the dull thunk of metal on flesh, and heard the gurgle of blood spurting from a man's face. The next man was harder to kill, because Davos actually saw his face, saw scared blue eyes looking out at him from underneath an iron halfhelm.
Beside him, Ser Meryn slew men left and right, tearing their corpses apart with his sword. His shield – which displayed a purple tulip – was as much of a weapon as his blade, crushing bodies with powerful strokes. Davos tried very hard not to look to the left too much.
Ser Rolland was much the same on the right. His sword blurred through the air and he attacked Westermen with unparalleled savagery. Davos knew that his brother had been slain on this very field not one year ago, and every death was in Lord Bryce Caron's name.
Somehow, despite his not wearing a helmet, Stannis had not been harmed. The front of his mail was splattered with blood, and his face had not escaped the flow either. His sword still shone in the early morning light, yet Davos still felt a chill of fear when he saw it. He didn't have time to look long, as he was separated from his King by the sheer number of Lannister men before him.
He took a man's arm off at the elbow before slamming the pommel of his sword into the same man's face. Davos then spun, arching his sword above him and down…
…into another man's shield. The fighter was a big man, his shield likely scavenged off of an earlier battlefield. It was oak, and Davos' sword was wedged deep within the wood. His stomach dropped when he realised that he couldn't get loose. The Westerman smiled coldly, raising his own sword, ready to cut down and slice Davos in half.
He didn't get the chance, as a long piece of metal grew from his chest. The man gurgled in surprise and looked down. The sword slid back through his body and the man collapsed, taking Davos' sword with him.
Davos looked at his saviour with blank eyes, but his mouth turned up to a slight grin when he saw Ser Meryn standing there, breathless and covered in blood but alive.
"Are you alright, m'lord?"
"I'm good," Davos replied shakily, not believing it for one second, "I'm okay, I think."
Meryn looked at him with cobalt eyes, and smiled kindly, "Take his sword, m'lord. You'll have need of it."
Davos obeyed numbly, prying the sword from the man's cold, dead hands. He swallowed nervously, forcing the bile down. As he took the time to stand still, seemingly apart from the chaos around him, Davos saw that the soil ran red with blood.
"Stay close m'lord," Ser Meryn jolted Davos back to reality with his gravelly voice, "I'll see you through this."
And by the gods he did. The battle raged for so long Davos felt like he'd aged a hundred years. He wasn't sure how many men fell before Ser Meryn Storm, but it felt as though the big knight was invincible. Davos killed his fair share of men too, but he took no joy in it; much as he knew that these men had rejected the true king, he couldn't help but see his sons in every green boy's corpse that he stepped over.
Davos was engaged in a brutal duel with a man-at-arms with a frankly ridiculously big axe when he heard a cacophony of high-pitched screams. He wheeled around, but regretted the action a moment later when he was knocked to the ground by his opponent. The man-at-arms stood over the Onion Knight, laughing gleefully at his prize. Davos closed his eyes and murmured a prayer.
But the axe blow never came. Davos opened his eyes and nearly screamed himself. Feasting on man-flesh was an enormous grey wolf. What scared Davos more than the brute though, for he had seen all manner of horrors during his life, was the boy who straddled the wolf's back. He was strongly-built and wore dirtied plate armour. Nestling upon his auburn curls was a bronze crown adorned with twelve iron spikes.
The King in the North…
Robb Stark rode his direwolf up to Davos, who scrambled to his feet. He was a comely youth, and Davos had no trouble believing that he was every inch the Northern hero men made him out to be.
"That's an onion on your breast," Stark's voice had a kingly strength, but also a kindliness to it, "isn't it?"
"A-aye, Your Grace."
The boy smiled, "Then I name you Davos Seaworth, knight in the company of Stannis Baratheon." he put forward a hand, "Well met, Ser."
Davos took the hand, "The King's Hand now, Your Grace," too many damn kings, "but I thank you for saving me all the same."
"No need for that."
Oh really?
Then the King in the North turned serious, and asked Davos about Stannis' plans. He especially wanted to know the King's tactics and numbers at the battle, and Davos told him what their strategy had been. The Young Wolf accepted this with a stern grimness, before confiding in Davos that he had no idea what was going on in the battle.
"You just sort of lose sense of what's happening with everyone else," Robb said when he and Davos began moving towards the central column of Lannister fighters, "until all that's left is you and the people you have to kill."
Davos didn't reply, and the Young Wolf spoke no more when they reached the Lannisters. In the corner of his eye, Davos noticed several warriors dancing in and out of view, shielding Robb Stark from any attacks he couldn't defend himself from. He saw a huge youth with a roaring giant on his shield, a mailed girl with a bear on her breast, a surprisingly nimble boy carrying the twin towers of Frey. Davos had never realised Robb Stark had such a loyal and devoted guard.
It took him a few moments, but Davos soon realised that they were moving forward against the Lannister charge, towards the walls of King's Landing.
We're winning! He thought, almost triumphantly.
A roar came from behind, and Davos saw the Northern cavalry, led by a grizzled riverlord in black armour, charge the Lannisters' western flank. Screams flew up into the air, and Davos heard the voices of a dozen lords urging their men to stand strong.
No use for that.
Suddenly, they came upon three men with the Baratheon sigil. Richard Horpe and Rolland Storm stood either side of their king, repelling each and every scarlet-clad swordsman that came near. Stannis wore no helm, and his face was splattered with gore. He held himself funny, leaning over to the side. Davos rushed to his king's side.
Stannis looked at his Hand, then to the King in the North, and grimaced, "Stark."
"Your Grace."
Robb Stark proffered a hand, and Stannis shook it, the King in the Narrow Sea taking in his rival's stature and crown. "I see you do not fear an arrow through the eye."
"I feel better if my men can see me, and I think they do to."
Stannis' mouth twitched, almost into an admiring smile, and the two kings talked a while on the states of their armies. Stannis told Robb everything Davos had not already said, and the Young Wolf spoke of his own men, saying that they would not be able to survive a retreat.
"We win this today or we die tomorrow." He said solemnly, and Stannis nodded grimly.
"I know the feeling."
Then, turning away from each other, each King raised his sword and pointed towards the city, bellowing loud enough to wake the dead, ordered an attack. Davos pressed forward with the howl of the direwolf at his back, pressed into a wall of scarlet and gold.
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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