Davos I:

The Princess Shireen was smarter than she should be given her young age. Unfortunately, that meant she had understood everything that had happened around her, including the death of her father. If not for my intervention her mother would have had her burned at the stake on the suggestions of the Red Witch. Just thinking about her brought me chills down my body. Another tragedy for the poor girl. Exile was the only option left, she was not safe on Dragonstone, not from the Lannisters or even her own mother, and I cared for her far too much to leave her to such a fate. I owed it to her father, Stannis Baratheon, to keep her safe. He had raised me up from a smuggler into a knight, giving a future to my sons. For that I would forever be his man, and consequently hers as well.

I decided the South was far too dangerous for us, and so I boarded my ship with my wife, Mayra, and my remaining sons, and fled the Stormlands, sailing towards the North, hopeful they would grant us harbor. It was not unprecedented, the North had a history of offering southern exiles safe harbor many times, the most recent ones in memory being their Grandmaester Aemon Targaryen and Brynden Rivers, commonly known as Bloodraven. We were currently by the Bite, the crew weary of any attacks on our ships by the Sistermen, although it was said that they did not dare attack in these waters, preferring to avoid the Northern fleet and raid by the Narrow Sea. In the distance I could see a Galley slowly making its way towards us. I took out my Myrsih Eye and looked again, sighing in relief. They held the flag of the Manderly's, rulers of White Harbor, our desired destination.

"Men! Bring out our flag!"

The Baratheon banner was visible now, hopefully marking us as non-threat in their eyes. Sure enough, they seemed to understand our message and inched closer slowly until the two ships were side to side. I saw an armored man walk towards us and shout out:

"In the name of Jon Stark, King in the North, and Lord Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor, who goes there!?"

"Ser Davos Seaworth, Hand of King Stannis. I come bearing no ill harm! I only seek the chance to speak with your Lord!"

The man turned around, clearly thinking the situation over, and finally he turned towards us and shouted:

"Very well! I will permit you to dock in White Harbor provided we escort you there!"

I smiled, happy we had gotten the chance.

"Thank you Ser!"

He laughed then, confusing me for a moment, and then turned around. I heard something like: "He called me Ser!" but I didn't really understand it.

We were lead throughout White Harbor to meet Lord Wylis Manderly, heir to the Royal Treasurer Wyman Manderly. He was acting as Lord in absence of his father, who apparently spent most of his time residing in Winterfell, managing the Crown of Winter's finances. I was very impressed by what I was seeing in the way to New Castle. Massive white stone walls surrounded the city, at least 50 feet tall. Most of the buildings throughout the city were made of whitewashed stone, giving the city an elegant look. The ground was mostly paved, save for a few spots here and there, and the smell, by the gods, the smell, the lack of smell in particular, was the most impressive thing to me. After being accustomed to the stench of King's Landing the lack of shit smelling air was a welcome change of pace. I looked to the side and saw the Princess Shireen had a smile on her face, clearly happy to be here. The poor girl had not seen much of the world aside of King's Landing and Dragonstone.

Soon we found ourselves in front of New Castle. A relatively elegant castle, it was a testament of the Manderly's wealth and power. We were given bread and salt, as was custom, and soon we found ourselves in the Merman's Court. I saw a fairly fat man sitting in the High Seat, him most likely being Lord Wylis Manderly. The herald soon spoke up, announcing presenting the Lord.

"Presenting Lord Wylis Manderly, son and heir of Lord Wyman Manderly."

"Be welcome to the Merman's Court Lord Hand. Ser Davos, why are you in the North?"

Ah, it seems as if he had been informed of who I was, not that I expected anything different.

"Greetings Lord Manderly. I come here in search of safe harbor from the South for the time being. With me I bring my wife and sons…. and the Princess Shireen Baratheon, daughter of King Stannis."

At that Shireen took off her hood, showing off her Greyscale scars, an unfortunate result of the attempt made on her life when she was but a babe. I saw Lord Manderly's eyes widen, clearly taken off guard by this. He quickly composed himself and spoke again.

"I see…. Well, Princess Shireen, I offer you and yours my hospitality. I will send a raven to Winterfell regarding future action, although I suspect they already know of your arrival here. In the meanwhile, New Castle and White Harbor are yours to tour, with an escort of course."

Shireen curtsied and responded: "I thank you for your generosity my Lord. We will not waste your generosity."

With that we were escorted out by the guards and taken to our assigned quarters.

We were riding towards Winterfell right now, gazing at the amazing views on the sides of the roads. It had been a month since we had arrived North and in that time I had learned a great deal. Northmen were blunt, terribly blunt. Even the Manderlys, considered to be the most "southern" house, had little use for courtesies which dominated the South. More than once I had been questioned on my fingers, or lack there off and the necklace I wore, and Shireen had been questioned many times of her scars, not in a malicious way, but just in plain curiosity. Questions which would have never been uttered due to perceived impropriety in the South became common place in our stay up North.

Honestly I liked it, never having to tip toe around conversations. Shireen seemed happy as well, she had been entertained by Wynafred and Wylla Manderly, and my sons had been permitted to train with the men at arms at New Castle, which had certainly put them on high spirits. Mayra and I had been treated well too, and we had been feasted by the Manderlys, who from what I'd heard used almost any excuse they could to prepare a feast, with this fact clearly reflected in the Lord Wylis.

We finally arrived to Wintertown, and I was without words. If I thought White Harbor had been formidable, then Winterfell, and by extension, Wintertown looked absolutely magnificent. Tall walls of grey stone, they seemed to stretch across the whole horizon. I had been to Oldtown and King's Landing, yet both of them did not compare to the sheer size of Wintertown. It could compare to the size of one of the Free Cities, which were notoriously huge. All of the floor was paved, I could hardly smell shit, and I could see men all throughout the city keeping the piece.

I was honestly the most impressed by the lack of smell. I even asked about how this was possible. Apparently there were buildings throughout the city solely dedicated to pissing and shitting. So simple yet so useful, it was a wonder cities in the South hadn't adopted the practice themselves, though Northern lords seemed to generally care more for their small folks. We rode through the city escorted by the city guards and soon we were brought to Winterfell, the greatest Northern Castle. It certainly lived up to its memory.

Two massive walls protected the ancient castle, several towers raised up, all in grey stone. Soon we were let in and subsequently taken through numerous courtyards until we were in front of the Great Hall. The doors opened and we were let inside. A blue throne, made of pure ice it seemed, stood in the back of the room, raised up by a couple of steps. A step down from it stood another throne, made of Weirwood if the legends were believed. This was the seat of the Queen in the North, and it was currently occupied by Queen Margeary.

She was certainly beautiful, yet she looked sharp and regal sitting on the Throne of Consorts. She looked down at us and spoke:

"Be welcomed Princess Shireen, Ser Davos. You come seeking Asylum are you not? Why should I grant it? Why should I grant you asylum when in exchange I'd gather even more enmity from the Iron Throne?"

I stepped up, representing Shireen and her position.

"Your Grace, this would not be the first time in recent memory when the Throne of Winter was willing to provide asylum from the South or Free Cities. Your current Grandmaester and your previous "Three Eyed Bird" before Lord Bran Stark was inducted in the position. Should you win win the War of the South then the Princess Shireen is the logical heir to the Iron Throne, and having the King or Queen of the Six Kingdoms in your debt and gratitude is not something to consider lightly. You face no real repercussions in retaliation after the battle of Riverrun. You lose nothing yet have something to gain should you accept us into your court."

She smirked, seemingly amused at my attempt at negotiation.

"You have nothing to fear Ser, I grant you asylum. You shall have the Crown of Winter's protection against our mutual enemies in the South. Guards, bring them bread and salt. Then take them to guest chambers."

I sighed in relief, we were safe. The guards promptly brought the bread and salt and soon we were officially under Guest Right, making our safety guaranteed. Northmen were honorable, more than most in any case, and even most in the South would not dare break it. We were led into our rooms and soon I fell asleep, the exhaustion finally getting to me.

I was walking towards the library with Princess Shireen. Now that we were firmly rooted in one place she had insisted in continuing her lessons to me so I may learn my letters. Finding it useful and with me being unable to refuse her, I had accepted. Once we got there we found ourselves facing an elderly man, seemingly blind and frail looking. Inexplicably, he turned his head, looked right at us and spoke, a smile in his face.

"Hello, I assume you are Princess Shireen. You are Ser Davos if I'm not mistaken? Why have you come here? Do you have any tomes in particular you would like to visit?"

Shireen stepped forward, a smile on her face and said:

"Greetings Grandmaester, we come here in search of a simple reading. I am teaching Ser Davos his letters so he may better advise me once I come of age, and thus we are starting at the basics."

"Ah! Wonderful, I always enjoy seeing someone eager to learn. Let me help you child, I know just the right book."

He stood up slowly, and as soon as he did a raven came flying and landed on his shoulder. He started walking around, twisting and turning through the different hallways housing scrolls and tomes as if he could see, us trailing right behind him. Suddenly, he stopped. Looking at a shelf, he started taking books and "looking at them" , searching for a title. Finally, he found the one he was looking for.

"Stories of the North: A Children's Storybook" , a great book for those learning their letters. It is simple in its wording, and besides of providing as an adequate learning tool it shall also help you understand more of the North. I read these stories myself to the current King in his childhood, and Gods be willing I shall do the same to his children, so please do take care of it."

"Thank you Grandmaester! It shall not be wasted I assure you! I am very excited to start reading it myself!"

He walked over, laughing in delight and once he reached us he took his hand and softly ruffled Shireen's hair. She took the book and ran towards a table near the entrance, one she had spotted as soon as we had entered.

"She's a sweet child isn't she?"

I nodded, confused. "Aye, she is."

"Do not push her towards the Iron Throne my boy, it has brought no one anything but pain and suffering."

With that he walked off, raven still perched in his shoulder. I felt a churning in my gut, he was not wrong. Shireen ran up towards me, eager to get me reading. She looked towards the Grandmaester, still close by, and asked him something which had plagued my mind throughout our whole interaction with him.

"Grandmaester, how is it that you can see when we can see you are blind?"

He smiled at us, tilting his head at the same time the raven did.

"Magic my child… Magic."

Author's Note:

So first off, in case you didn't notice Aemon uses warging to see through his raven's eyes. He has First Men Blood (his mother was a Dayne, which is a First Men Family) and he has innate Targ magic so I figured it would be plausible (same situation as Bloodraven, who is half Valyrian and half Blackwood).

I have something to say regarding my update schedule. Up until now I've been doing updates every single Saturday. I still plan on doing it, but I might miss a week or two from now on since I just started College, so I got some shit I need to deal with now. Hope this doesn't really fuck up the reading experience, I'm still working hard and trying to bang out these chapters, but yeah, I'm just gonna have a bit less time. Just thought I would let you guys know.

Well, now that that's finished, well what did you think of this? Ya'll like Davos' POV? I hope you did, and if not please tell me how to improve on this, I appreciate any criticism. Thanks for reading, please leave a review if you can! Have a nice day!