Dragonstone

Since when have the world gotten so bleak? Davos wonders, standing by the Great Hall's kitchen. Was it when I lost my fingers? No, for that was when I became a vassal for my Lord Stannis Baratheon.

Davos Seaworth, being a poor smuggler from Flea Bottom turned knight, hold high esteem for his liege Lord. It was through Stannis that he can lead an honest life, a truer path than that of a smuggler. Now, his family and children can prosper rather than wonder if he can put food on the table. It is an honour for him to be able to name one of his sons after his liege Lord.

But for such a just and kind man, why must the Gods punish him like this?

"Ser Davos," the cook calls out and hands him a tray, "bring the slops to those two, will ya?" Davos takes a whiff of it and grimaces at the smell. The stuff wouldn't even fit a prisoner, let alone the two ladies confined in the Sea Dragon Tower. But he's not one to judge, is he? Was it not her fault that all of this came to pass? "Now, tell 'em to eat it all up or else," the cooks spits into the food, smiling, "ask someone else to cook."

"I'll be sure to inform them," Ser Davos bows before heading off. It's clear then that he does not worship the Red God, unlike the previous cook.

Davos is careful not to trip on the stone dragon's tongue when he leaves the kitchen area and exits the Stone Drum. Being the castle of Dragonstone, the entire place is littered with ostentatious statues and structures shaped like dragons, which oftentimes unnerves him. Even so, the place is like a second home to him. But with the events of the past few weeks, he feels that the black stone of the castle grows darker each day.

The current Castellan, Ser Axell Florent, now heads the household as Lord Stannis slowly recovers from his wounds. My Lord, left a cripple by Lady Melisandre's machinations... Even he renounced the faith of the Red God. Due to that horrific tragedy, Ser Axell has gone to great lengths to try and purge Dragonstone from the Red God. Entire families were kicked out for their beliefs, guards and knights were dismissed, and a riot broke out when he decided to imprison the two ladies of the Red God. Fifteen people died that day. And I wonder if Ser Axell will add it to Lady Melisandre's death count.

As he passes by a window overlooking the black sandy beach, he sees the site where the calamitous pyre had been lit. All of the remains of the place have been cleaned, leaving only a burnt crater on the sandy beach.

The pyre. Every night ever since that fateful day, his dreams wander back to that site. The burning. The smell of charred flesh. The stand. The blackened bodies beneath. And a demon clad in black and white, laughing over it all. Though not a pious man, he can only wonder if that fireball was a punishment from the Seven for his Lord's acts of blasphemy. Was it the Red God then that I saw laughing in my dreams? The red demon? And what of that woman, birthed from the flame and ashes?

And Shireen. Davos could barely look at her; each time he does so, he has to hold back his sobs. His lord's little girl, barely older than ten. Whenever he sees her, Davos always tries to act like a father: play with her, sometimes tell tall tales, or watch over her as Patches chase the girl around the garden. And now her mother's dead, leaving her the sole Lady Baratheon of Dragonstone. Will I ever hear her laugh again, I wonder.

"...Oh, oh, oh, I know what I know, oh, oh, oh..."

Davos sees the plump fool exit the latrines with a little dance, pulling up his boots and breeches. The little bells on his head jingles with each step he takes. "Patchface."

The fool turns his motley-covered face at him and lets out a hearty laugh. "Oh Onion Knight! No dirt for thee, he he he!"

"It is good to see someone happy for once in this dreary castle, Patches. Tell me, have you seen Shireen for today? I know she's unwell, but I'm sure that seeing your face will brighten her day."

"Shireen, yes, Shireen! Be a green blood she is!"

"...I'll take that as a yes. Just avoid Lord Stannis' quarters, understand Patches? The man is not one to enjoy fools."

"Patches make no promises!" he replies, dancing away from him.

Davos finds the fool to be a queer one, living longer on Dragonstone than anyone else in the castle. His words are always confusing and, strangest of all, Lady Melisandre does not care for him at all. If anything, every act she displays carries an air of hatred and derision for the fool, for reasons that she never tells. She even voiced her desire to burn the fool to death. A horrid end for a strange man, Davos thinks back to the pyre. If I can, I would spare everyone of such fate. But I'm sure Lady Melisandre would go against me.

Nearing the tower, he sees the two guards standing by look at him oddly. After all, the Castellan's purge was not all that successful. Though he managed to weed out most of them, from what Davos can see, over a quarter of the guards and knights here follow the faith of the flames. Due to that, Davos must always be wary of sabotage and other things. I'm not a smggler anymore. I'm a knight in service to Lord Stannis, thus I must protect him at all cost. Especially when he's...

He tries to drive away the image of Lord Stannis in his mind to no avail. Maester Pylos... He's trying his damnedest to keep my Lord alive but all I hear is suffering. Who must I ask for the right path?

Climbing up the long steps, Davos finds himself on the door of the rookery where the prisoners are kept. He knocks on the door first, informing them of his arrival.

"Come in, Ser Davos."

The one who answers is Lady Melisandre; as far as he knows, the other woman does not speak much. Unlocking the door, he greets the Red Priestess before giving her the plate which had been spat at. He doesn't trust the guards enough for them to have their own keys. They'll just free the prisoners and that will cause a lot of havoc.

The room still smells of bird dung and eggs, though there are no more birds in the rookery. All of them escaped during the chaos of the riot, much to the horror of Maester Pylos. So instead of cages, the servants moved them beneath tables and placed a small wooden bed for them to sleep in: Lady Melisandre sleeps on the bottom floor while the other woman sleep on the second. She takes a bite out of the foul stuff but does not frown. Instead, she compliments it. "Thank you Ser Davos for the lovely meal."

"You can thank the cook for that one," he pulls a chair and sits on it. He needs to know more, but not just about Melisandre. "Lady Melisandre, how is the other one one? Lady..."

"Fujiwara no Mokou," the Red Priestess says with an air of reverence, her eyes shining bright. Davos recognises that glint for it is the same whenever the woman proclaims to see visions within the flames. "Our holy saviour from the long night, a daughter born from the fires and ashes, Ser Davos. She will lead us to victory."

"Is she, Lady Melisandre? Has she eaten the food I brought her yesterday?"

The Red Priestess lets out a long sigh. "She has only been birthed from R'hllor's embrace, and thus not... Used to this world. She asks strange things and gives odd insights, but that is for her life is much different to ours. She is the saviour, Ser Davos. And as R'hllor wills it, our world will be rid of the dark."

"Lady Melisandre, is that not the same thing you said to my Lord? That all of the prophecies tell of him as the Prince of Light who'll drive away the dark? Was it all a mummer's farce for you to take a foothold in this castle? To fool and betray him? Because I do not play well with anyone who dares betray Lord Stannis."

"Betray?" Lady Melisandre laughs, the ruby on her choker glowing eerily. "Oh, you are mistaken, Ser Davos. As sharp as you might be, I guess even the Onion Knight might not fully understand R'hllor's plans. Let me explain." She takes a candle from the bedside and, by pinching its wick, she sets it alight. "Like R'hllor, the flame is ever-changing in nature. The visions we see, not all of it can be interpreted correctly. Even I am prone to such distortions, for sometimes the truth may not appear what they first seemed."

"Truth... Lord Stannis followed your 'truth' faithfully, Lady Melisandre. He'd gone so far as to denounce his brother, betray his blood, and declare himself King! Though I'll follow him to the ends of the known world, I must know whether or not this 'truth' you whisper to him shall lead to a road of destruction. I am a knight, his knight, and it is my duty to protect from all enemies, whether they be holding a shield or a candle. Whoever they might be, wherever they might be... Gods, I don't know anymore." Davos sinks into the chair, rubbing his temple with his good hand. The frustration of it all, his Lord's suffering, the followers of different fates... It all has to matter to him. Are the Gods so cruel as to cripple a man for burning statues?

Melisandre caresses his left hand, but her searing warmth gives him no comfort. "Rest assured, Ser Davos, for the flames have named him Azor Ahai reborn. That has never changed."

"But why the saviour? And why my Lord's family?"

"Because," she stares into the candle flame, "the Lord of Light knows of what to come. A greater evil, stronger than when the darkness was driven back by Azor Ahai thousands of years ago. And so, R'hllor have brought us a greater gift."

"Is that why the Red God made my Lord a cripple? Took his wife and nearly did the same to his daughter? Is that what you're saying, Lady Melisandre?" Davos, as calm as he is, still grips strongly to her arm with his stumps.

"Great things come from great sacrifices, Ser Davos. It is a simple fact. Take your hand as an example," she says as the woman lifts his left hand. "Did you not sacrifice those fingers for greater prosperity? Did it not lead to your family's wellbeing?"

Davos pulls his hand back, her touch felt quite sickening to his skin. "But why cripple him? Why not take his life and let your new saviour lead the way? Why must they suffer?"

"R'hllor's wisdom knows no bounds," she smirks. "He knows that Lord Stannis will be unable to fight the darkness alone and understands his importance for his death shall bring the world's doom. And so He crippled your Lord, ensuring that the man shall never set foot on the battlefield and risk his life. With that, our Saviour shall bring us to victory."

Davos feels sick from this talk of sacrifices. What god would maim their own to right their mistake? he wonders. Is he truly a red demon? So uncaring of our lives and sending us to die? "May I speak with Lady Fujiwara? I think I've yet to hear her voice as of your imprisonment."

"You may try, Ser Davos."

Carrying the other plate, Davos climbs up the ladder onto the second floor. Here the cages hang from the ceiling with chains, meaning that the servants were unable to remove them. He sees at the far end of the room on a bed next to the barred window Fujiwara no Mokou, lying on the bed with her hands clasped like a corpse.

When he walks, Davos accidentally steps on a plate of rotten food. He recognises it for the one he left her a week ago. To his left is the one from yesterday, and to the right is near unrecognisable with the flies and maggots swarming it. Did she not eat at all in here? "Lady Fujiwara, I brought you today's meal. I hope you can enjoy it."

No answer.

He can see her chest rise and fall, so clearly she must be alive. He sighs before continuing forward, careful to not ruin his boots. "Lady Fujiwara, I know what happened was terrible. But you must eat, else your-"

She snaps her fingers and the plate in front of him bursts into a pillar of flame. Though he flinches, Davos continues on. "I know you don't want to hurt me, Lady Fujiwara. You could have set me aflame and take the keys, but you didn't."

"...Ughh." She rises up from her bed, her long white hair trailing behind her. Her eyes are baggy, as if she hadn't slept for days or had been crying for the same amount off time. She looks nothing like a warrior. Or perhaps she does, like a knight coming home from a campaign having witnessed the horrors of battle, a broken man. Does she truly regret her actions here? "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

"You're my prisoner so I should be giving you some semblance of pain. Take it." The woman grabs the plate from his hands. And her voice as well... Closer to a tired widow than any knightly heroes of fairy tales.

She takes a bite from a piece of something before spitting it back out. Davos watches her set the plate alight, the flames glowing bright orange and yellow. He could see the pieces float in small balls of flame, grilling itself. He's never seen sucha sight even from the Red Priestess. After it's done, the meal carries smoke that smells almost delectable. She looks back at him. "What, gonna watch me eat?"

"If I don't make sure you empty your plate then the cook won't bring Lady Melisandre more food."

Even after cooking it in her magic fire, the woman still frowns when she takes a bite. She looks odd with her bright red pants and long silver hair, all done up with paper ribbons. If the tales spread by Lady Melisandre and the followers of the Red God are true, then she did truly appear from the flames. No smuggling trickery nor disguises; that hair would definitely stand out. Is she a fellow follower of R'hllor as well? I've yet to hear any praises about the Red God from her.

Her eating pace slows down as her face turns somber. "Hey, um, Ser Davos was it?"

"Yes, Lady Fujiwara?"

"You know about the girl? Is-Is she alright? I mean-"

"Lady Shireen is recovering. It's a slow process, but nothing a skilled Maester can't handle," Davos answers. In truth, Maester Pylos have his hands full in trying to care for the injured. We need to request a Maester from a different house and fast. Else I fear for Lord Stannis' and Lady Shireen's chances at recovering. "Why does it matter to you?"

"Because it's my fault," she confesses, her voice almost breaking. "I... I killed all of those people, Ser Davos. Her mother and father, I never intended to, and yet I..."

Davos is taken aback by how different this saviour is to the Red Priestess. She doesn't try to justify her actions, instead taking responsibility for causing all of that destruction. More soulful than Lady Melisandre... If she really had been summoned by her to this world, then I very much pity her existence. A saviour born from chaos. "I know, Lady Fujiwara. I understand that sentiment very well. You've committed a grave mistake. I may not be a priest or a septon, but I will say that it's still possible to right your wrongs. Even I manage to handle something like that and I'm no saviour in anyone's eyes. I hope you can do the same. Now," Davos turns to leave, "I'll be picking up the plates first thing tomorrow morning. I'll talk to you again so goodbye, Lady Fujiwara."

But before he could leave the woman grabs to his hand. And unlike Lady Melisandre's touch, hers feels real and warm. "Ser Davos," she speaks in a whisper, "please tell her that I'm sorry. Shit... I don't know what I can do to rectify this, but I never intended to harm her nor her family."

"I'll be sure to tell her so please, rest easy," Davos smiles back. Her face stays mournful before she looks into his eyes. Her warm red eyes, like the ruby the Red Priestess so cherishes. She slinks back to the bed and lie under the cover, again isolated from the world.

Done with his work, Davos says his goodbye before exiting and locking the room. But as he walks down the tower he feels his heart grow heavier with each step. And halfway down, he can't take it anymore and sits on the steps, leaning against the slick black wall. His mind, so overwhelmed by the past two weeks, it's all coming back to him. He covers his face to stifle his cries, yet it's not much use. The girl and the mother, buried under the burning rubble. And his Lord, forever crippled...

Davos knows. He knows that deep in his heart he must do something. The Red Priestess, once an object of suspicion now has turned into complete fear. She'll keep on going and transform this island into her mummer's farce. But what can I do? I have no heart to kill her!

First is Lady Shireen. I must get her off this island, away from the Red Priestess, away from danger. Her talks of sacrifice... An image of the little girl burning in a pyre forms in his mind and he shakes it away. There has been enough death and chaos, and he must prevent more. And Lady Fujiwara... She'll be used like a tool by her as well. She must be away from her.

...

Davos grabs the pouch on his neck and kisses it, praying to the Seven for their protection. He now knows what to do. For one more night, the Onion Knight shall become a smuggler.

Dragonstone

The hour of the bat. Every smuggler knows well the hours of the night, when darkness is at its zenith and even the crickets fall asleep. At this time, only owls and night-guards prowl the night, and they're not immune to tiredness either.

And at this time of night, a smuggler would be fully awake.

Davos understands well the schedule of the guards; though he wasn't able to read it, he lived in the castle long enough to remember it by heart. Right now, the evening guards are getting ready to change places with the late-night guards, meaning that they're not as aware as before. It has been more than a decade since he had thrown away the moniker of a smuggler. Yet hiding in the darkness, listening to the sound of footsteps and the snores of the guards...

He's in his element.

His first task is to extract Lord Stannis' daughter: Lady Shireen Baratheon. He already made his preparations for this. He instructed Maester Pylos to increase the dosage of poppy milk slightly under the guise of letting her have a long rest. But due to that, she most likely will not wake up when he goes to take her from her bed. Her medicines and salves should be next to the bed on the nightstand. And if it's not enough, I've already supplied the skiff with my own supply from King's Landing. I pray to the Seven that we can get in touch with the Healer of Flea Bottom.

Tiptoeing by the snoring guards, he thanks his wool-covered shoes for covering the sound of the footsteps. Making sure that the door to the girl's room is unlocked, he slowly pushes the door open, making sure to not even creak the hinges.

The room is dark for it is the new moon, the only light coming from the dragonsbreath in the sky. From her soft snoring, Davos is assured that the girl is fast asleep. But there's a problem: the fool Patches is sleeping on a chair next to her bed. In a normal day, he would simply thought of how sweet it is that she has a company to help her sleep. But now it is simply an unnecessary risk, especially when the fool's arm and hat is lying on the girl's blanket. If I move that thing, I might wake them both. I must be careful.

First, Davos stuffs his pocket with the medicines provided on the girl's bedside table. He sniffs the empty cup beside her: poppy's milk, so she should stay asleep. Next is taking the girl. Even in this dimly lit room, Davos can see the scarring all over Lady Shireen's body. His heart tightens when he tries to lift her up and feel the pulsing warmth of her burnt skin; it's becoming too much for him. I'm sorry Lady Shireen. I should've pulled you and your mother sooner out of that fire. But I promise you... I promise I'll get you out of this hell.

Slowly, Davos pulls her out of bed and puts her on a bridal carry. She curls towards him, her face marred with burns and grey skin.

"Agh! Mer-Mermaids blue... Fish and... Seas..."

Davos ducks under the bedside, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest. The fool, shit is he awake!?

...

Hearing no more sound, he peeks his head up and sees Patches still asleep, snoring away on the chair. He lets out a long sigh. Sleep-talking... Thank the Gods.

Carrying her out of the room, he quietly closes the door and heads out of the royal quarters. The guards from before are still asleep and there are no signs of anybody nearby, so Davos takes the chance to dash out of Dragonstone and into the stony cove below.

Climbing down the jagged black rocks to the shore, he feels Lady Shireen stir in his arms. Looking down, he sees that her eyes are still closed, snoring like a baby. As he feels the wetness of the rocks, he sees the shine of his son's lantern.

Before long, he feels the familiar rocking of a smuggling skiff and the whispery voice of his eldest son, Dale. "Father, you sure of this plan of yours? Did anyone see you?"

"If someone saw me I wouldn't be here," Davos replies, settling the girl down on a makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. He hopes the boat's gentle rocking will keep her asleep.

"But must you go back to take that fire woman? You know that she's in cahoots with that Red Witch."

"After everything I've seen, I really doubt that. Remember son, if I don't return, leave straight away and head to Flea Bottom. Find the travelling healer; she'll take care of the rest."

"What do you know of this person?"

"Only that I trust her, Dale. She won't refuse strangers. Remember: grey hair and grey eyes. May the Seven help us."

"Aye, father. May the dark cover your tracks."

Davos climbs back to Dragonstone and now must go towards the Sea Dragon Tower. However, he encounters a obstacle. Unlike the sleeping guards of the royal quarters, here the guards are fully awake, lit candles by their sides. There's no doubt in his mind that they are followers of the Red God. So Ser Axell failed his purge of the castle. There's no way in going past that. And so, he must take a more extreme route.

Davos heads back a little as to not be heard by those guards and opens one of the windows. The Sea Dragon Tower is aptly named for its dragon-shaped design, with stone waves curling all around it and a long tail leading just below the open window. He takes of his gloves to have better grip and steps out into the windy darkness.

He knows it's possible to traverse the dragon's back and waves; he'd seen a knight do it to help retrieve a message blown by the wind. Of course, it ended up with the man falling to his death on the return, but Davos' sure that he won't make the same mistake. The man was cumbersome and armoured while he's more nimble and grips better with his fingers. But the damn stumps makes it easy to slip! He slowly scoots his way over, making sure to not be seen from the guards' open windows.

After reaching the tower's wavy base, he climbs up to the next windowsill, accidentally cutting his good hand on the black stone. After climbing a few more, he feels the chill of the wind and the salty spray slowly turning his body cold. Shivering, he finally reaches the window of the rookery. I'm not like when I was younger... Not fit for a smuggler and not fit for a knight, Davos chuckles wryly. After catching his breath, he inserts a flat piece of metal between the window slits and lifts the latch. It's something his son Allard thought him, but frankly he doesn't want to know where the boy learnt it from.

He quietly opens the window, the warmth of the burning candles inside hitting him. It's a welcoming one, washing away the chill in his bones. Entering the rookery, he sees Lady Melisandre sleeping in her red dress still, facing away from him towards the wall. The sudden brightness nearly blinds him and it takes him a bit to adjust to the light. Finding the ladder, he climbs up to the second floor.

Avoiding the many plates on the floor, he reaches Lady Fujiwara's bed and gently shake her awake. She groans before opening her eyes, looking quite confused upon seeing his face. "Ser Davos? Why are-"

Davos puts a finger on his lips, telling her to stay quiet. "We're getting you off this island," he whispers. "Stay quiet and follow me."

After taking a moment to put on her shoes, Lady Fujiwara follows Davos down the ladder and towards the open window. But before he could step out, he feels a burning sensation on the back of his neck. He quickly turns around, seeing only the confused woman and the sleeping Red Priestess. Tiredness... Just tiredness, he assures himself.

After pointing out to her the rock outcroppings of the tower, the two slowly climb down and back up the dragon's tail towards the main structure of Dragonstone. His hand stings badly on the seawater-covered rock and he can still feel the blood running down his arm. I need to bandage this... Or else I'm going to lose my good hand as well.

However, as they carefully traverse Dragonstone's walls, Davos notices lights and torches being lit throughout the castle. He can even hear a bit of commotion. His heart sinks. Have we been found out?

Reaching the window, he helps to pull her in before the two hide in an empty room. He could hear guards running about, panic in their voices. However, there's no mention of his name or of Lady Fujiwara's: only Lady Shireen. Did Patches saw me take her?

A whole set of scenarios run through his mind. Will they suspect him for the kidnapping? What will Lord Stannis do if they do know he's involved in her kidnapping? Would he punish his family? No, Lord Stannis is not a cruel man. Even he would not dare do such a thing. But how about Ser Axell? The man is quick to anger and Davos had seen how he lash out against others in frustration. Would he, in Lord Stannis' stead, punish his wife and sons? What kind of father would he be to leave most of his family through suffering?

"Ser Davos, do you know where to go?"

Lady Fujiwara's words brings him back to reality. "Yes I do, Lady Fujiwara. But I was so sure that no one saw us."

"Clearly somebody did."

"Yes, someone did. If we get out now, we may still reach the skiff in time."

Exiting the room, the two try to sneak their way out of the castle. But with the torches being lit, it's becoming harder to hide in the darkness. Davos curses his lack of secrecy ruining the extraction. As they enter the Stone Keep, they hear bells ringing throughout Dragonstone, bellowing out of the dragons' mouths on the walls. "Shit, they're waking all the guards and knights. We must hurry!"

As they exit the dragon's mouth, the two come across guards securing the exit to Dragonstone. If I remember correctly, they shouldn't suspect me of being here. So I must play a mummer's farce. "Excuse me," Davos reveals himself to them, keeping Lady Fujiwara behind an open door. "What is all this ruckus? Why did someone ring the bells? Did Lord Stannis pass away?"

"Ser Davos! No Ser, but it's a tragedy nonetheless. Someone kidnapped Lady Shireen from her quarters, Ser."

"What!?" Davos feigns a shock, though he's unsure of how authentic he sounds. "When? Where?"

"Not long ago, Ser. That fool told us that she went missing, but we suspect some foul play with him, Ser. For now, he's being kept in the dungeons."

"Lady Shireen kidnapped... Then why are you dawdling about here? Look for her!"

"But Ser, we need to keep this-"

"You don't need five guards for one door, but you'll need more to find a girl as small as she. Check everywhere, from Aegon's Garden to the Stone Drum's core! I do not want to be the man to tell Lord Stanis that his daughter went missing, is that clear. Split up and I'll guard the doorway. Now move, time is of the essence!"

"Y-Yes Ser!" All the guards part ways, leaving only Davos and Lady Fujiwara. After making sure no one is around, the two exit through the doors and towards the castle's main gate and entry. The coast is clear and they make haste.

"Did you kidnap the girl?"

"Aye."

"Why!?"

"Because I care for her, Lady Fujiwara. The Red Priestess is-"

"Stop right there, Onion Knight!"

The two freeze in their steps. Walking out of the dragon mouth corridors is none other than the Castellan of Dragonstone, Ser Axell Florent. Behind him is a retinue of knights and guards, all carrying spears and shields. His face is full of anger. It's over, isn't it? "Ser Axell, good eve-"

"Ser Davos, why are you running about with the Fire Woman in tow?" Ser Axell asks, drawing his longsword and pointing it at Davos. "Don't tell me you've fallen to her sorcery as well! Here I thought I could trust you, one of Lord Stannis' trusted confidants, yet here you are in cohorts with the Red Priestess. Take off your sword and kneel, Davos. You're no longer a knight in my eyes."

No way out... I'm sorry Marya. Resigning to his fate, with heavy hands Davos unclasps his scabbard and places it in front of him, kneeling towards the Castellan. He hangs his head low in defeat, shame and regret welling up inside him. With tears in his eyes, he can only pray that the punishment would only extend to him and not his family. Lady Shireen... She should already be sailing far away now. My son, protect her with all-

"The hell!?"

"Shields up! Shields up!"

"Fucking demon!"

A hot hand pulls him back up to a stand. Clearing his eyes, Davos sees an unbelievable sight before him. A spinning ball of black flame, and around it smaller balls of colours and light. The things throw spears of fires all around, burning through the knights' shields and even the stony floor. He stares in awe as the woman drags him out of the carnage. "Come on! Let's get the fuck out of here!"

"Y-Yes, my Lady. I'll lead the way!" Davos says, his hands still trembling at the sight.

Davos tries his best to find the correct path that leads out, but at most of them they meet with more guards and knights. Unable to trick them, Lady Fujiwara sets the things around them aflame as distractions as they search for a different path. Though focused on the task at hand, Davos is till fascinated with her magic. It's so similar yet very different to Lady Melisandre, he wonders as the two run through the castle. A living flame... Is what Lady Melisandre said true? That she is our saviour who'll fight back the darkness?

Through all of that chaos, the two find themselves in Aegon's Garden beneath a canopy of pine and dragonsbreath above bathes the world in a reddish hue. Panting and heaving from all the running, Davos hears guards and knights approach them from all around. Ser Axell florent is there as well, his hair burnt and armour full of dents. Many of them wield crossbows. So much for an escape...

"Enough running, Davos. You're under arrest for treachery, kidnapping, and whatever hell you've unleashed in this castle. Make a move and we'll pin you both with bolts. It's off to the dungeons for all of you! Lord Stannis will be sorely disappointed."

Lord Stannis. I am betraying him, aren't I? There's no doubt about it now...

"Hold on to me," the woman whispers.

"What?"

"Hold on for your dear life and don't let go, Ser Davos."

Confused at her command, he holds tight the woman's right arm with both of his arms. The men around them snicker at the sight.

"How pathetic. Don't you have a wife, Davos? By the Seven, this is why you don't make a knight out of smugglers... Enough laughing. Get the shackles and-"

Lady Fujiwara swings her left arm wide and let loose a curtain of fire. It consumes the trees, ground, and everything around them. But even with that, the guards still release their bolts. One burning bolt embeds itself deep into Davos' right knee. Four more embed themselves into the woman's gut, chest, and skull. As her body slumps against his, Davos stumbles and tries to pull her away from the chaos, trying to get behind some cover.

But then her body bursts into flames and he's lifted off the ground.

Feeling his body dangling in the air, he keeps his firm grip on the woman's arm. But it burns. Her arm sears through his clothes and skin, like a hot iron prod left in a hearth. Davos looks up at her and sees massive pairs of flaming wings sprouting from her back, flapping in the cold night wind. And then he looks down.

He can't believe his eyes. Far below him and receding into the darkness, he sees the menacing castle of Dragonstone, no bigger than a dollhouse. The crags and cliffs of Dragonmont rise not far from him, yet it looks nothing more than a small hill from the air. We're flying. We're flying! "Holy Seven Hells we're flying we're flying! Ha ha ha!"

"Stay still, you're fucking heavy!"

"Sorry sorry!" he shouts, still giddy from what's happening. Davos forgets all about the pain in his arms and leg. They're flying. Never had he thought that he'd see the world from a raven's eye, so high in the sky. The sea stretches beyond and he can see the faint outline of King's landing in the distance. Is this what Aegon saw on the back of Balerion? Westeros sprawling beneath his feet, ready for his sister-wives to conquer and rule?

"It's getting tiring, Ser Davos. Where are we going?"

"Oh- AH!" he accidentally loosens his grip, but luckily Lady Fujiwara grabs his arms.

"Damn it, man! I told you to hold!"

"I'm sorry, my Lady!" Davos shouts the apology, his heart pounding out of his chest. Looking down at the sprawling sea beneath him, the waves look nothing more than ripples on a mirror. The stars shine in the water, and the dragonsbreath stretches through the waves. However, he sees more than just reflections: at the comet's head, he sees what looks to be a small boat. No boat travels this late at night, so that must be- "Right down there, Lady Fujiwara. That's my son's skiff!"

"Alright, hold on!"

"I'm holding ooOOON!" Davos screams as the two dive headfirst towards the water. The salty air whipping through his burnt hair, they skim over the water's surface before crashing into the boat, nearly capsizing it. His son and Lady Shireen shout in surprise. "What the- FATHER!? How did you-"

"We flew, my son. Flew! Like a dragon in the sky," Davos chuckles, catching his breath from the impact. The thrill is more than anything he'd experienced over open waters.

"Flew? How!?"

"Lady Fujiwara's sorcery," he pants. The pain slowly creeps back into his mind, stabbing thorugh his arms and legs. He looks down and sees the barb of the crossbow still stuck in his knees. His arms and chest needs attention as well. I guess Lady Shireen is not the only one who needs to visit the healer. Then he remembers the other bolts. He looks over to Lady Fujiwara but there's not a single wound on her. Did I mistake the bolts striking her? Was it just panic? "Lady Shireen, how is she?"

"Ser Davos?" the girl peeks from behind his son, her face tussled with long hair. "Are-Are you alright?"

"I'm fine... We'll meet the healer soon enough."

"Father, if we don't dress your wounds now it'll fester before we reach King's Landing. Let me-"

"No, those are Lady's supplies, not me."

"Lady?"

"Ser Davos," the little girl holds his hand. "You need them more than I. Use them."

"Her wounds are healing while yours are new. Hold still father while I search for the bandages."

"Thank you, Lady Shireen."

She beams a smile at him but it quickly turns sour as she looks at the woman sitting at the boat's stern. "...You're the Fire Lady, aren't you?"

"Um... Hi."

"You killed mother and hurt father," the girl hisses back. "Why are you here?"

"I helped her escape, my Lady. And she helped me as well." Davos tries his best to calm the girl down to no avail.

"Why? Why!? She's like the Red Lady, she wants to burn everything! WHY!?"

"Not her," Davos coughs. "She's... She's not like the Red Priestess."

"Um, Lady Shireen?" the woman steps up but Shireen backs off. "I-I never meant to hurt your family. Your mother, god I'm- I'm sorry your-"

Before Lady Fujiwara can finish her stammering apology, the little girl runs off teary eyed and hides under the boxes of supplies. The three can hear her stifled sobs. Lady Fujiwara, her face nearly breaking down, collapses onto the deck and covers her face, letting out a stifled cry of her own. Davos can only lie there and watch as his son bandage him up. Two broken souls... By the Gods, I hope the healer can help them. Lady Shireen is a strong one, a Baratheon. She'll recover in due time. But I'm not sure of Lady Fujiwara.

"So much for the Red God's saviour," his son snickers, but a glare from Davos silences him.

And as the four drift silently in the bay, a large raven lands on the mast of the boat. Davos sees a small message tied to its feet before it takes off, flying towards Dragonstone.

A messenger at such an ungodly hour. Dark wings, dark words.