When Davos first laid eyes on the squadron of Freys that appeared at Storm's End's doorstep, he thought they all looked similar. Beady-eyed, weak-chinned, a little weaselly like their lord, the ancient Lord Walder Frey who was still alive. It was not long before Davos learnt that some Freys were worse than others.
"Why could not Lord Frey have sent just one of his sons instead?" his youngest son Steffon had asked curiously.
"Lord Frey is a tricky, ambitious man," Davos had replied before steering him and young Stannis towards their rooms. "Why have one betrothal when you can have a dozen? Lord Frey is rich, but not as wealthy as Lord Lannister. He is also a powerful lord, but not as powerful as um, others. However, Lord Frey has plenty of sons and daughters. Some lords may desire many children and no lady is as ah, fertile, as a Frey girl."
"Who would want to marry one of Lord Frey's sons?"
"Other river lords may want to ally with House Frey. Maybe some lords of the Westerlands and even the Reach. Gaining connections is as useful as wealth for a minor lord. Have you attended a feast before, Steffon?"
Steffon shook his head. "There were never feasts at the Rainwood."
"You will be going to the feast tonight. You too Stannis," Davos added to young Stannis who was looking at the tapestries of hunts and stags with interest. "All of us will be attending."
"Even Dale?"
"Even Dale," affirmed Davos confidently. A raven had been sent and Dale was no doubt on his way to Storm's End as they speak. Uncertainty slithered into his mind as he listened to his two younger sons chatter. He was pleased Dale was the acting Lord of the Rainwood. It would do him good to experience ruling over the lands that would one day be his. However, Davos felt rather sneaky in sending a raven requesting his presence at Storm's End for the purpose of choosing a Frey bride. Davos hated politics and the thought of arranging beneficial marriages for his sons was…deplorable. Other Storm lords would think him mad, but at times, Davos still felt more a commoner than a noble lord of the Stormlands.
Making political matches is what lords do, Davos reminded himself. The Freys might not be the most pleasant, but they're still noble. The knighthood brought you lands and a future for your sons; the lordship of the Rainwood enhanced the future; and marriages to the daughters of lords would brighten that further. It would be a great comfort indeed for Dale to select his own Frey wife.
"Will we all get Frey wives?" Steffon giggled. Young Stannis snorted. "If you all want to wed Freys, I will not stop you," chuckled Davos. He stopped immediately as he caught sight of Lady Baratheon walking towards them, her cheeks pinched and her red lips tightening into a thin line. "Milady," said Davos courteously with a nod. Young Stannis and Steffon followed suit and echoed, "My lady," nodding at her respectfully. As Davos expected, Lady Baratheon looked at them with quite a haughty glare before walking away without a word.
I will always be a smuggler in her eyes and my sons the sons of a smuggler.
"Mother does not wear the bracelet you gifted her with," said young Stannis as they approached their rooms.
"Oh?" said Davos, puzzled. Last year he'd sent Marya a silver bracelet studded with small pearls as a name day gift. It was uncharacteristic of him to give Marya jewellery as he usually never did.
"She keeps it in a box," explained Steffon. "She says it's too good to wear and it will always be a reminder of the good days for her." Davos smiled. "I will see both of you later," he said, ruffling Steffon's mop of brown hair. "There is still a couple of hours before the feast and I have work to finish."
As Lord Stannis never summoned him to his solar, Davos spent the few hours strolling around Storm's End with his elder sons. It wasn't long before Davos and his family were escorted into the Great Hall and seated at one of the trestle tables near the high table. It wasn't the closest of tables to the dais, but it was still close enough to illustrate their standing in Lord Stannis's favour.
At the high table sat an expressionless Lord Stannis in the centre and a clearly unhappy Lady Baratheon on his left. Davos noted that she was decked from head to toe in jewels again, mostly emeralds and rubies. Still in scarlet and gold, Davos thought with faint amusement. After sixteen years, Lady Baratheon still thinks she is a Lannister of Casterly Rock. How unusual for a married woman. He pushed the Lady of Storm's End from his mind and smiled at Marya beside him. She was in a lovely gown of grey – a dress she sewed herself – and her brown hair, now a little grey, was tied into a long braid. "You are a beautiful sight," said Davos truthfully, kissing her on the cheek. Much more beautiful than Lady Baratheon, he wished to add, but he held his tongue. Lady Baratheon didn't take too well to other women acknowledged as more beautiful than her.
Marya blushed. "You must be japing, Davos! Japing is not your style at all." She giggled like a young maiden. "The Lady Shireen looks happier than she'd been in years," she remarked, smiling. "That poor girl. When she was a child and I was in Lady Baratheon's household, I implored Lady Baratheon to allow Lady Shireen to play with the twins or at least be allowed to play in the garden and enjoy soaking in the sun. She would be healthier if she did."
"What did Lady Baratheon say to that?" asked Davos.
Marya sighed and said sadly. "She told me that the gods have cursed the child and a little sunlight would do naught for her. Then she dismissed me. I was quite happy to leave Lady Baratheon's service. Poor Lady Shireen though."
"Lady Shireen is happy now," said Davos, watching the Lady Shireen laugh at a jape uttered by young Robert Baratheon who seemed to have accepted her as his sister. "Very happy." Lady Shireen met his gaze and beamed at him, her blue eyes sparkling with pleasure. For the occasion, Lady Shireen was seated with all of her siblings and Lord Stannis's wards, pages and squires beneath the raised platform where Lord Stannis, his lady wife, a few visiting Freys and the most influential of Storm lords sat. Davos noticed that the portly, broad and fleshy-faced Ser Ryman Frey, eldest son of Ser Stevron Frey, heir to the Twins, had the privilege of sitting beside a scowling Lady Baratheon.
"She's lovely in the Baratheon colours," commented Marya, admiring the Lady Shireen's gown of black and gold. "All of Lord Stannis's children look exquisite do you not think? Lady Myrcella is so pretty in that red dress."
Davos nodded, a little uncomfortable at the mention of Lady Myrcella. "Look," he said, gesturing to the plates of food in front of them. "No one had put a bowl of onion soup in front of me this time." Marya laughed.
In the first hour of the feast, Davos ate his fill and talked to Marya and some of their sons. He learnt that young Stannis yearned to be a knight in the Kingsguard; Steffon desired a position in the royal fleet like his elder brothers; and both boys were at a loss when it came to sums. "Maester Jurne will help you," Davos said to them with a chuckle, "or Maester Pylos, Maester Cressen's old assistant maester." Lord Stannis was still in the middle of deciding which maester to send to serve at Dragonstone. Davos suspected it would be Maester Jurne.
Marya's forehead wrinkled as she frowned. "Maester Jurne, Davos?"
"Yes. It won't be long before Steffon and Stannis come and live here when they squire for Lord Stannis and continue their education like their brothers did. Is it a problem, Marya?"
"No." Marya's smile was strained. "Not at all."
"Marya, if there is anything at all-"
"Lord Seaworth?" Davos glanced around in annoyance and saw a Frey waiting to speak to him. Marya prodded him in the arm. "Talk to him," she whispered. "It is probably more important. I will see to you tonight." Davos nodded worriedly. I should be pressuring Marya about her issues – what if she is gravely ill? He forced a smile on his face and bade for the Frey to sit down. Marya had turned to speak to their sons again.
"I am Walton Frey, Lord Seaworth," the Frey man began. "The third son of Ser Stevron. You may have heard of me."
"I'm afraid I have not," said Davos honestly.
"Oh." Walton Frey remained unfazed. "I see. Well, I have heard of you, once Ser Onion Knight eh? Now a lord." To Davos's discomfort, he leant closer. "What say you to uniting our Houses?" Walton Frey whispered excitedly. "I have a daughter and you have well, seven sons."
"I thought Ser Ryman is in charge of negotiating betrothals."
"My drunk brother? Pah. Ryman's a fool and too besotted with his wine cup. If we leave the negotiating to him, we will be brokering until winter comes! No. It's up to me to do the negotiating."
Davos arched an eyebrow. "Edwyn Frey then?" he suggested.
"Come now Lord Seaworth!" said Walton in a whiny tone. "At least consider it, my good man! I am prepared to offer a generous dowry – much more vast than a dowry any of my brothers or cousins will offer you! And," He paused. "My wife is aunt to Ser Harrold Hardyng, the Arryn heir." He smiled triumphantly. "Aunt. My daughter will give you grandsons with not solely Frey blood, but also noble blood of Houses Hardyng, Waynwood and Royce, three most influential noble Houses in the Vale. It is a brilliant match, Lord Seaworth."
"Lord Arryn's heirs are his sisters," said Davos flatly. "Then Ser Harrold."
"Of course my lord Seaworth. Of course."
"Which one is your daughter?"
Walton nodded at a comely-looking young woman sitting in a huddle of Freys – her sisters and cousins? "My daughter Walda," Walton said proudly. "Named in honour of my grandfather Lord Frey of course. A lovely girl, Lord Seaworth. She's accomplished in embroidery and can sing quite well. What do you say, my lord? I hope you are satisfied to accept her as a good-daughter."
"I cannot say anything at the moment. My eldest son Dale should arrive soon. I will be leaving the choice of bride up to him. If he wishes to take Lady Walda as a wife, I will be happy to discuss their betrothal terms with you."
Walton's weaselly face beamed. "I look forward to discuss terms with you my lord Seaworth." He disappeared almost instantly in the crowd of lords and ladies. Davos sighed gloomily. Hopefully Dale would be taken with Lady Walda Frey as a future bride. Davos glanced around. Marya had left and their younger sons were in a deep conversation with a couple of young lords about famous knights. In the need for a walk, Davos stood up. Marya never felt at ease in feasts, he thought, his mind tinged with concern for his wife. Even if she is decked from head to toe in an immense array of jewels, she will never be happy. Their first feast was exciting and memorable; the second less so. When Stannis appointed Marya a lady-in-waiting for Lady Baratheon, it had been an honour. It seemed though that the Lady Cersei Baratheon was less appreciative of a Seaworth than Lord Stannis was.
Davos slowly made his way around the Great Hall, watching the nobles of the Stormlands converse with each other. Proud Swanns spoke to chivalrous Selmys; Wyldes and Carons dined with their Frey relations; and red-haired Conningtons sat near the double doors, the spot of disgrace. From his conversations with Lord Stannis, Davos learnt that the Conningtons were once a proud and wealthy house that had been in disgrace since King Robert's war.
Lady Shireen's laughter interrupted Davos's thoughts. He blinked his worried feelings away and smiled as he saw Steffon Baratheon gallantly lead his sister the Lady Shireen onto the dance floor. On the rare occasion such as this, Davos felt a tiny pang of pleasure noting Lady Baratheon's disapproval. Usually Lady Shireen would be hidden away in her small chamber while her siblings danced and ate all evening under Lady Baratheon's cold yet gracious smile.
Lady Baratheon did not even feign a smile today.
"The young Lord Steffon is a good dancer," Davos overheard an elderly lady in green with a silver deer pendant around her neck remark to the young lady who sat beside her. "He is much like his namesake and grandfather. Oh, when the late Lord Steffon Baratheon was alive, he was a fine dancer. He once held a tourney at Storm's End – it was before that horrid Duskendale affair mind you – and during the celebration feast, I had the pleasure of dancing with him!" She sighed with joy at the pleasant memory as her companion gaped at her with astonishment. "You never mentioned that Grandmother!" the young lady said accusingly.
The older woman cackled. "It must have slipped my mind, Laera. I would die a content, old woman if you're to marry young Lord Steffon." As her granddaughter protested, Davos looked away. Observing two women argue over betrothals that would never occur was naught new. He had seen plenty in King's Landing. Before he walked away, he heard the Lady Laera's grandmother say, "If my father wasn't such a fool, I would be the Lady of Casterly Rock rather than the Lady of Fawnton. I would be accompanying Lord Tywin Lannister to King's Landing as we speak if I was married to him!"
Davos froze.
Lord Tywin is on his way to King's Landing.
"…your mother would've been a Lannister instead of a Cafferen and you'd be a daughter of the great lord rather than a Penrose," the elderly woman complained as Davos headed straight to the high table. He rushed past Bollings, Bucklers and the droopy-eyed, scowling man in a surcoat bearing the menacing sigil of a black hanged man on a field of dark blue – House Trant of Gallowsgrey. About to hurry up the few steps of the dais, Davos found his path barred by Horas Redwyne.
"Lord Baratheon didn't summon you Lord Davos," the Redwyne boy informed him. "I cannot let you pass."
Davos frowned. "I have done so a number of times before."
"Lord Baratheon is in an important discussion with the Freys my lord." Davos glanced at Lord Stannis who was indeed speaking to a couple of Freys that were seated closest to him. "This is vital," Davos urged. "Surely Lord Baratheon would not mind a small interruption? It is of the utmost importance." Horas frowned. "I won't take too much of Lord Baratheon's time," Davos promised. "Only a minute or two at the most."
Horas Redwyne nodded reluctantly and stepped aside. Davos rushed to Lord Stannis's side, ignoring the irritated glare from a plump lady with sharp emerald green eyes and curls of golden hair. She was garbed in scarlet and sat three seats away from Lady Baratheon.
"Lord Seaworth," said Lord Stannis, looking at him expressionlessly.
"Milord," said Davos as Ser Ryman Frey, flushed red from too much Arbor gold, spluttered with outrage at the disruption. "Forgive me for interrupting your talk, but this is of the utmost urgency." Lord Stannis remained silent for a moment. He rose. "We will resume our conversation when I return," he said to Ser Ryman. He motioned for Davos to follow him out of the Great Hall.
"What is it Lord Davos?" said Lord Stannis shortly. Dining and conversing with the Freys had not improved his mood.
"I am aware you despise all manner of gossip and listening to it milord," Davos said with an apologetic look. "However I overheard from um, Lady Cafferen that Lord Lannister is travelling to King's Landing. I don't know why, but he is."
Lord Stannis nodded slowly. "Perhaps his sister Lady Genna Frey will know. It must be important for Lord Tywin himself to journey to King's Landing. I doubt it is solely because of my foolish brother's meddling."
"Milord?"
"Renly is causing a great deal of unwanted meddling and trouble at court, due to the influence of his Tyrell wife no doubt." Lord Stannis scowled. "Renly wishes for a place at the small council now. Not advisor, but a position. Foolish Renly had the temerity to ask the king to appoint him Master of Laws."
"Ser Kevan Lannister is Master of Laws."
"Precisely, Lord Davos. Ser Kevan wrote to me, requesting my help in keeping him as Master of Laws."
Davos hesitated. "Milord, you are-"
"I'm aware of what I plan to do, Lord Davos," interrupted Lord Stannis sharply. "However, Ser Kevan is a competent man and maintained law and order has he's charged to do. Renly is a fool who will be happier accepting bribes and flattery in the stead of keeping law as Ser Kevan is doing. This is a political matter and more important than my own plans. Nevertheless, you say Lord Tywin is journeying to King's Landing of his own volition. We cannot wait any longer. What you'd heard from Lady Cafferen might be news two weeks old, or even more. We will leave in two days, Lord Davos. We will leave with a small guard to make up for lost time. I will rid myself of the Freys tomorrow."
"The Freys may think it a slight milord."
"The Freys were not invited to Storm's End. They came on their own accord. I did what any lord would do – give them shelter, food, drink and entertainment. Is that not enough?"
"What of the children milord?"
"They will be summoned when the king agrees to arrest Lady Cersei. There is no point bringing them to King's Landing only for the king to think I am japing or lying." Lord Stannis scowled ferociously.
Davos nodded. "Perhaps it will be better to spare your children the pain?" he suggested. "They are children after all."
"Her children," Lord Stannis automatically corrected. "I do not know if Robert is ours or hers. The children are proof. The king will not believe me if I show him that ponderous book alone."
"They' will suffer with the shameful knowledge of their true parentage for the rest of their lives, milord. It is cruel to have children paraded around court as the proof of a trial case. Even if they are not your children milord."
"The children are proof," Lord Stannis repeated stonily. "Even Lord Tywin can be silenced in his threats once he sees them. We'll leave in two days. We cannot afford to delay any longer." He gave Davos one more long look before striding to the Great Hall at a brisk pace.
Davos sighed. Tommen and Lady Myrcella were the sweetest children and had shown naught but kindness. They basked in their mother's love and even earned a smile or two from Lord Stannis…before Lady Melisandre told him the truth. The children are innocent, Davos thought as he slowly walked back into the Great Hall. No child deserved to suffer – and to discover such a horrible truth! He shook his head. Both Tommen and Lady Myrcella would be devastated and broken beyond repair, inwardly at least. Davos could already imagine Tommen and Myrcella told their fate: the cold Wall for Tommen and the gloomy Silent Sisters for Myrcella, a motherhouse if extremely fortunate.
"Lord Davos!" Lady Shireen hurried to him. Her cheeks were pink with joy and excitement. She showed him a white handkerchief, its corners embroidered with stags. "A gift from Myrcella," she explained, beaming happily. "She said she made it to make up for all my name days she missed. Is it not kind of her, Lord Davos? I too must give her a name day present in return."
"It is sweet of Lady Myrcella," Davos agreed, thinking of the look of horror that may appear on Lady Shireen's face when she learns she and Myrcella were not at all related. "What have you thought of giving her, milady?"
"A dress," Lady Shireen whispered. "I plan to sew her one. Myrcella said that I look pretty in black and gold and she wished she had a gown like mine as all her gowns are red or pink."
"A wonderful present milady," said Davos truthfully, smiling at her. "When do you plan to give it to her?"
"It will have to be a late name day gift," Lady Shireen said regretfully. "I could ask Cassana for help, but I want to sew it all myself."
"A challenge for you milady," chuckled Davos. Lady Shireen laughed too. As he laughed, he felt a pang of guilt. How could a man live with the knowledge that can shatter a child's world?
Probably this chapter was a little unexpected for some of you, with a bunch of previous chapters set in the North and now suddenly at Storm's End. The plan is for the major storylines to kind of 'meet up' at King's Landing in a few chapters' time. As it is Christmas and I am feeling quite Christmas-spirited, I have decided to set a small, light-hearted and fun competition: guess who the next chapter's POV is. Here are a few hopefully helpful hints:
- It's a woman's POV
- She did not have a POV in The Dance of Spring before
- She has a POV in the ASOIAF books
- Her chapter will include/reveal a lot of plotting: both plotting in the past and present (hopefully it makes sense)
For the winner: I will write you a festive ASOIAF oneshot based on your favourite pairing (it'll be great if you can tell me what time of their life you want it to be set in such as their first Christmas/New Year feast/party or when they are old with children, grandchildren or no children/grandchildren at all).
The winner will be the first person who tells me the correct POV.
The competition will end on Wednesday 28th December (Australia time) when I upload the chapter. Have fun guessing and I hope you all have a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! :D
