A/N: Chap 24 review responses are in my forums as normal. Thank you for reading.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Dragonstone
Ser Davos was in the dungeon again.
Shireen heard it from Alyce, her mother's chambermaid, and from old Broomer, the craggy-faced old man who was constantly sweeping out the halls. He'd frightened her at first because he never smiled and had terrible scars on his left hand. But one day she tripped and scraped her knee, and old Broomer picked her up as gentle as could be and carried her up six flights of stairs to her room. He never smiled, nor talked much, but it was hard to be scared of him after that.
Still, she was frightened for Ser Davos. In truth, she was frightened for her father as well. Things were going very poorly, she knew. Ser Davos himself seemed to be the bellwether of her father's fortunes. When things went really badly, and her father needed to blame someone, Ser Davos ended up in the dungeons.
She knew that her father loved Ser Davos, though, because he was still alive.
She shivered and pulled her woolen shawl tighter around her shoulders as she remembered the way Uncle Axell Florent screamed as that red woman's flames took him.
What truly convinced her of their plight, though, was that people were leaving.
They never announced it, of course. When that frightening pirate that Ser Davos liked so much, left, he took many with him. Ser Lomas and Ser Andrew Estermont fled with those Greenstone men who survived. She didn't know how many men that was, but she knew that her friend Lysa Estermont and her mother went with them. She could hear father screaming about traitors from the kitchen where kindly old Nana Booly made her a honey porridge for her breakfast.
She wasn't sure if she should feel more sad because of her only friend leaving, or relieved that she and her family weren't there for father to be angry at. He was scary when he was angry. Nana Booly went about her business as if her father's rage wasn't ringing through the halls of the great, increasingly empty keep.
The Farring men were still there-they'd come on the Dragon Queen's own ship from Storm's End. But rather than be happy to have a few hundred more men join him, her Lord Father raged for hours over the loss of Storm's End. Shireen had never been there, but she knew it was her family's ancestral home.
A week before Ser Davos returned from Braavos, the Glovers left. Ser Gerald was one of her father's most praised soldiers to survive the disaster at the Blackwater. When he took his men at arms in the still hours of the early morning, father didn't even yell. At least, not where Shireen could hear. But when Davos returned alone from Braavos…
Back into the dungeons he went.
"He committed treason," was all mother would tell her when she asked.
"But how?"
"He forged the king's name and sought a loan from the Iron Bank," her Lady Mother said coldly. "They denied him."
"I wrote the letter for him, though!"
They were in mother's solar. She'd come for news when she saw the sail, knowing her mother would not come to her. When she admitted that, her mother stared at her with a flash of such hatred Shireen quailed a little. "You wrote the letter? You told him what to say?"
"Well...no. He told me the words to write. He's the King's Hand, surely he can do that!"
"Then you did not write the letter for him, foolish girl," Queen Slyse snapped. "You simply took down his words. Do not suggest such foolishness again!"
Shireen fled.
The night Davos was thrown in the dungeon, she begged a loaf and a cut of cheese from Nana Booly. The old woman clucked her tongue and said, "You're a dear child."
She knew exactly what Shireen intended. With the food wrapped in waxed parchment, and her favorite book about the Dance of Dragons in her arm, she made her way down to the dungeons. They looked a lot like the rest of the castle, only with fewer rush lights.
In fact, there were almost no lights at all. She ended up having to take one of the long rushes and light her own way until she found the cell that seemed to be Davos's favorite. She saw him there, curled up under his heavy woolen cloak.
"The goaler is gone," she said as she arrived. She set the burning rush in its holder set in the arched stone of the cell opening.
Ser Davos started awake. "Princess! What are...never mind. How are you faring, child?"
"I'm lonely," she admitted. "Lysa left with her family and their men. But I brought you food!"
"Oh, bless you!"
He accepted the cheese and loaf eagerly, pausing only to break a piece off for her. "I hate to eat alone."
She settled into her spot against the cage bars. Davos settled down on the floor opposite.
"Mother said you were in the cell because of treason again. But I couldn't tell if you were in here because you asked for money, or because you didn't get it."
Davos chuckled darkly. "You have your father's mind, child, and that is a fact. If I'd secured the loan and the sellswords with it, I would not be here now. It was a treason to make the request, true enough. But I was punished because I failed."
"Why wouldn't they give you money?" she finally asked.
Davos thought about the answer as he ate. She liked Ser Davos because he treated her like a grown-up. He didn't dismiss her like Father or hate her like Mother. He was the only one in the castle who did that. He considered the question now as he chewed.
"I think the Iron Bank decided not to back us. Not to even make the bet."
"Because of the Dragon Queen?"
The man nodded and took a bite of the cheese slice he'd pressed into the loaf. "Aye. While I was in Braavos, I heard news that King Balon led the whole Iron Fleet against her. They say she led her soldiers across his ships and killed him with her own hand. They said her dragons burned the fleeing fleet. She had less than twenty ships and she defeated a force of one hundred. The Braavosi cheered when the news was read."
"Why?"
"Because they like her. She has dragons, yes, but she cleaned out the pirates from the Stepstones. That helped the Braavosi. And she's already started trading with them. I assure you the Lannisters don't have that good of a relationship with Braavos."
"What about Father?"
"His Grace…" Davos paused. "Your father has had trouble establishing good relationships with our neighbors. The Battle of the Blackwater was a terrible blow."
That was a nice way of saying that no one really liked her Lord Father. Rather than take offense, Shireen sympathized. Other than Nana Booly and Ser Davos, no one seemed to like her either. Her scars made her look ugly.
"Shall we read?" she asked when they finished their meal.
Davos nodded, smiling sadly. "If you can tell me why there's a 'k' and a 'g' in knight."
"Because," she said. "Silly."
~~Quintessence~~
~~Quintessence~~
On the morning they received news of the fall of King's Landing and the Reach, Shireen was eating her porridge with Nana Booly in the kitchen. The castle had seemed even more empty than normal that morning, but she couldn't understand why until Ser Davos stepped into the kitchen.
"Nana," he said with a nod to old Nana. The woman had been cooking in the castle so long even old people like Ser Davos called her Nana.
"A slice of toast and bass for you, m'lord?"
Davos put his hand to his heart and staggered. "Nana Booly, when have I ever been a lord to you? I'll always be your Davos."
The old woman shared a toothless grin. "Oh, on with you, ye old pirate." And she placed a slice of toast with fish paste and a poached egg on a wooden trencher for him. He took it with a grin to her and a wink at Shireen before he sat at the ancient, roughly hewn table where she often ate.
"Why does the castle seem so empty today, Ser Davos?" she asked after he'd quickly finished his breakfast.
"Aye, that's a dark tale to tell," he said.
And Shireen nodded as she understood. "The Valeryons left?"
The man stared. "How do you figure that?"
"There aren't many left," Shireen said sadly. "The Florents won't leave. They're our family."
"Aye, the Valyrons snuck out after dark. Struck one of your cousin's about the head to seize a ship and fled. The castle garrison now numbers under 500 men."
"Why, Ser Davos?"
The man stared down at his hands for a moment in thought. She realized he wasn't thinking of how best to answer, but whether he should answer at all.
"We received a raven," he finally said. "The Dragon Queen took King's Landing in a day. In less than two hours, truth be. Dorne has declared for her and taken the Reach. She now controls the Stormlands, Crownlands and the Reach, and has sent ravens to all the lords of the land ordering them to bend the knee or be burned by dragon fire. Seeing as how she took King's landing with almost no losses, it's a credible threat."
Shireen took another bite of her porridge, but suddenly it tasted like ash. "She took the city, but father couldn't."
The Dragon Queen succeeded where Shireen's father failed. That would make her father not only angry, but bitter and jealous. "Ser Davos, is he going to hurt you?"
The man blinked at her, then looked away as his eyes gained an odd gleam. "Not...no, princess. Not me. But...he's very upset with your Uncle Alester. I'm afraid he might hurt the man."
"But why?"
"Your Uncle spoke a truth your father cared not to hear, and acted on that truth without permission. Just like I acted without permission."
"And he failed too?"
"Aye."
~~Quintessence~~
~~Quintessence~~
That night, Uncle Alester Florent's screams echoed across the Dragonstone. Mother and Lady Melisandre insisted that the whole castle staff watch as the wicked Red Lady burned Shireen's uncle to death.
"Not for his crimes, but for the hope of good fortune his sacrifice might bring," the Red Lady chimed. "To bring low the Pretender whore and bring suffering to her!"
Shireen's mother stood some distance from her. She did not like to see the scars on Shireen's face. Her father, though, stood beside her with his hand on her shoulder. "Why, father?' she whispered to him as her uncle screamed.
"Hard men must make hard choices," he answered as he stared at the flame. "I have seen Melisandre's magic work, and it will work now. If the Pretender queen dies, I will be the only candidate left for the Iron Throne."
"But he was mother's uncle!"
"I know." That's all father would say.
Two days later, they received a raven that reported the Firing of King's Landing. The Dragon Queen didn't die, but Ser Davos told her many of her most trusted advisors did. Melisandre's magic was powerful, but not powerful enough to kill the Dragon Queen.
~~Quintessence~~
~~Quintessence~~
Something woke Shireen with a scream on her lips. She bolted up in her bed and stared out the narrow window of her room. Her breath came in rapid, ragged gasps as her heart thudded painfully in her chest.
Just as she started to calm down, she heard it again. It was unlike any other sound she'd ever heard. A screeching roar, like every scary animal she'd ever read about was screaming at once. She clambered out of her bed and ran to the window.
Her heart began to beat hard in her chest. There were sails in the harbor-dozens of sails. They bore the red and black pennants of the Targaryens, just like in her book. And flying over the ships, she saw dragons. Three of them.
One of the dragons banked and flew right at the curtain wall that separated the harbor from the keep. As she watched through her filthy, narrow window, she saw the dragon unleash a burst of fire. She couldn't see what the dragon was attacking, and was too far to hear anything, but she just knew that her father's men were dying.
The door burst open. "Princess!" Ser Davos said. "Get dressed, hurry!"
He rushed back out and she did as bidden, dressing herself in her linen gown and her woolen overdress. When she stepped out of her room, she found Davos there with two of her father's men, both bearing the Baratheon stags on their hauberks. They stood on either side as they all rushed down the steps.
"Those are the Dragon Queens ships, aren't they?"
"Aye, lass. And her dragons. I think it might be the queen herself, and she appears to be in no mood to parley!"
The halls were empty. Shireen wanted to ask about Nana Booly and Old Broomer, but Davos was running down the stairs with her father's men a step behind. Her heart beat heavily in her chest as the terrible weight of fear draped itself across her mind.
Was the Dragon Queen going to hurt her father?
She heard men screaming. She bit back her own alarmed cry; she couldn't tell where the screaming was coming from, or the sound of steel on steel. The fighting ended abruptly in a loud, utterly alien zapping sound, almost like a clap of thunder within the halls.
"Hurry, now!" Davos said. He took Shireen's hand and sprinted.
They emerged into the throne room of the Dragonstone. Her father paced before the throne. A hundred men filled the space, forming a wedge between the door and the king. All wore Baratheon colors; there was no sign of the Florents, save for mother herself. The men parted to admit her and Davos, and then reformed.
Father was in his plate, sword at the ready. His helm sat on the obsidian throne behind him. Mother stood behind them with the wicked Red Lady by her side.
The air seemed to tremble in anticipation of violence. Shireen knew her father well enough to know that he would not surrender. He'd been so angry since Uncle Renly, and since the Blackwater. She saw it in his face now-that low, seething rage.
Father is going to die.
The heavy doors of the throne room closed. Soldiers slid the locking bars in place-three of them, one atop the other. By the very nature of the Dragonstone, there was no other way in or out of the throne room. Not even a dragon rider could find entrance, since the castle was built by those who rode dragons.
They were as secure as they could be.
It all changed in an instant. A glowing blue line appeared high in the gate, above the top locking beam, and slashed down. The wood beams split asunder as if made of parchment rather than thick, solid iron wood.
The gates slammed open so hard they struck the walls on either side and jarred loose of their hinges, falling to the floor. In the doorway stood not an army, but instead a single figure. The Dragon Queen herself.
Tall and slim, she wore a black chest plate inlaid with a red three-headed dragon. Below that she wore a heavy armored kilt, like the most ancient Ghiscari, that hung to the grieves that covered her knees and shins. Her feet were clad in odd black boots, and her head was covered in a frightening black helm that hid her face so thoroughly it seemed impossible that she could see.
Two swords of blue fire hung in her hands. Behind Shireen, she heard the wicked Red Lady gasp.
The queen stood alone without any men behind her. She removed her helmet to reveal golden starburst eyes and black hair with slight curls at the end. She placed her helmet on the ground behind her and then walked to within ten feet of the wedge of defending soldiers.
Those otherworldly eyes scanned the steady line of men, and the determined king behind them, before alighting not on Shireen, but on the Red Lady. "Lay down your arms, and everyone but the sorceress lives."
Her father was a soldier; Shireen knew this. Presented with the enemy he seemed to hate above all others, he raised his hand and shouted, "Kill her!"
The Dragon Queen raised her hands, and suddenly the throne room was filled with lightning. The blue flashing spikes flowed through the tightly assembled soldiers all at once, flicking out to throw Stannis into his throne. Shireen screamed as it touched her, as did her mother.
The terrible magic lasted only moments. Shireen, having received only the tiniest part, looked up to see the Dragon Queen unmoved. She was no longer alone, though. Soldiers were pouring into the room-fierce looking men in boiled leather armor. There were many, many more of them than those that defended the king, most of whom were moaning now on the ground.
"What do you think to gain besides death, Stannis Baratheon?" the Dragon Queen demanded. She didn't sound contemptuous, she sounded angry. "Your followers abandoned you because you were never going to be king. You have no claim to the throne. Your brother was a Usurper, and his claim ended with his death. I am Queen, and I am sick of idiots making me kill them. If you're that eager to die, fall on your own sword. Don't take your family with you."
Shireen screamed when the wicked Red Lady surged forward, shouted something using words that hurt Shireen's ears, and suddenly caused fire to fill the air. The Queen didn't move. She lifted a single hand and seemed to catch the fire, holding it against an invisible wall until the wicked Red Lady collapsed from exhaustion.
"You sent a Shadow to kill me," the Queen said to the wicked lady. "Surely you know I had a Shadowbinder by my side, and my own Red Priestess. We destroyed your shadow. You are dead. For the darkest of black magic and the use of human sacrifices to fuel that magic, you are condemned to death."
Melisandre pushed herself steadily to her feet. "I am a servant fo the Lord of Light. It is by his will…"
Her neck snapped. It snapped so violently that a bone stabbed through her skin in a spurt of blood. The queen had left her hand raised, but had crushed her fingers into a fist. When she pulled her hand toward her chest, Melisandre's giant ruby necklace flew through the air until the Queen caught it.
Shireen stared in fascination as the wicked Red Lady withered before her eyes, collapsing in a pile of old skin and bones to the floor. Behind her, her mother gasped and sobbed hysterically.
The queen turned her attention back to Shireen's father. He'd regained his footing and stared at the Dragon Queen with a confused, blank look, as if he couldn't understand something vital about her. He looked down at the sword he clung to. It had a yellow glow to it, but was not warm.
"She said I was the Prince Who was Promised," he said.
"She was wrong," the Queen said. "You're an angry, foolish man driven by pride and stubbornness. You saw others receive what you thought should be yours, and raged like a child against the injustice of it. And how many other people died because of that, Stannis Baratheon? How many men and boys died because of wounded pride? Who will you burn next? Your wife? Your daughter?"
His eyes flicked to Shireen. He looked confused then, as if he couldn't understand why she was there. He looked back to the Dragon Queen.
"Here are your options, Stannis Baratheon," the Queen said. "You are going to die today. I wish for your family it could be otherwise, but your pride will not allow you to live peacefully in surrender. But no one else has to suffer. The choice you have to make is if you make everyone else die with you first. So, I'll give you your chance." Her blue flaming blades sank somehow back into their hilts with an odd hissing sound, and she hung them from her belt.
She turned to a soldier, and the man tossed her a spear. "I challenge you to single combat. If you win, you will be king. If I win, then your people will bend the knee."
"What chance do I have with your blasted sorcerery?"
"I don't need magic to beat you, Stannis. Otherwise, I snap your neck where you stand and we're done with it. This way, your men and your family know that you fought an honorable duel, and died with your honor intact, if nothing else. It's a shame your daughter will have to see you die, but that is the consequence of your own decisions."
"No," Shireen whispered. "No, your grace! Please! Mercy!"
"Be quiet," her mother said. She slapped Shireen then, a stinging blow that made the girl stumble. When Shireen looked up, her father was staring down at her. As she looked at him, she saw the blood drain from his cheeks and his eyes widen.
"Do you understand, now?" the queen said.
Though she spoke softly, her words filled the entire chamber. "Men fight and die for pride because they are fools. Only those who are wise understand that it's not honor that matters. It's not pride. It's blood. Fathers are supposed to defend their daughters, Stannis. Before their own pride, before their own honor, father's are supposed to keep their children safe. Mine failed me. And Shireen's failed her. Your greatest failing wasn't losing battles or followers. It was bringing an evil monster into your home and putting your little girl in danger."
The glowing yellow sword lowered in Stannis's hands. "Will she be harmed?"
"I don't hurt children," the queen said. "She'll be taken into my court. I'll even heal her scars."
The king stumbled and turned to stare at her. "You have such power?"
"When magic is used for love instead of hate, Stannis, anything is possible. You will die. The Shadow you sent to kill me bore your face. It killed a twelve-year-old girl instead. That is a crime I cannot forgive. But your death need not be cruel. And it need not be in front of those you love."
Shireen's eyes burned with tears as her father looked away from her. He threw down his sword. "I yield," he said.
~~Quintessence~~
~~Quintessence~~
Shireen could not stop crying. The Queen's soldiers didn't try to stop her when she ran back to her room. She ran and ran, until she reached her room, slammed the door shut, and threw herself on her bed.
The problem with a good cry, though, was that it didn't last long enough. She felt like she needed to cry for the rest of her life, but after ten minutes of it the tears dried up and she found herself laying in her bed with a growling tummy, a swollen, stuffy nose, and everything was just as bad as before!
The door opened. "Go away!" she cried.
"Shireen."
Her father's voice brought her upright. He stood there, whole and unharmed, and in the blink of an eye she was there. He knelt down and he hugged her tight as he never did, and the tears came spilling out again. "I don't want you to die, Father," she whispered.
"All men die, child," he told her. He wasn't a gentle man, but in that moment he spoke so to her. "But perhaps not today. Her Grace has shown me mercy after all. She'll allow me, and those of my men who wish it, to take the Black."
Shireen reared back, her heart thumping. "That's...that's just as bad! I'll never see you again!"
"It's not as bad for me," he pointed out indignantly.
"But...you'll be so far away. I'll…"
He took her face in his hands. "It's not right," he said, cutting her off. "It's not right for you to pay for my sins. Queen Rhaenys had the right of it there. In return for me taking the Black, you'll be safe. You'll be Lady Baratheon of Storm's End. You'll be a lady in waiting for Her Grace. You'll be safe."
"What about you, though?"
He smiled at her, and oddly some of the smile reached his eyes. "I'll be defending you, child. I'll be defending the kingdom. It is a good thing, I think. Most of my men have agreed to come. And every day, I'll be thinking of you."
"What about Mother?"
His smile faltered. "She...won't be joining either of us."
Shireen tried to feel bad about that, but when she thought of her mother all she could remember was the cold dislike and contempt. "Will you write?"
"As often as I can, that I promise. And Ser Davos will be with you."
"He's not going with you?"
"He wanted to," Stannis said. "He's shown me more loyalty than any man I've known. He was so loyal, he even told me straight when I was a fool. If only I wasn't such a fool to not listen. No, I've asked that he stay with you."
"When will you leave?"
"Now," he said. "A ship waits to take us to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. It remains only so I could say goodbye."
"Can I come to see you sail?"
"Yes. Yes, I'd like that." He stood and offered her his hand. It was the first time she could remember in years that he'd done so.
The castle halls felt dark, empty and unlit. Streams of weak sunlight broke in occasionally through windows or open courtyards, but the castle had always felt dark and unpleasant. As they reached the path to the docks, she saw spots of melted stone or pieces of discarded armor from the fighting.
Still they walked. The sky above looked cloudy and dark, but she didn't care. Her heart beat painfully in her chest and she found herself tearing up at odd times. She'd just had the longest conversation with her father in years. He'd hugged her like she always wanted him to do, and held her hand now as they walked, and it was everything she'd always wanted.
And it was as he was about to leave her forever.
The Dragon Queen stood at the docks. Her three dragons were lounging on the black sand beaches below, three huge creatures each as large as the ship her father walked toward. Ser Davos stood near the queen, who was flanked by her fierce foreign soldiers. Those golden starburst eyes of hers watched intently as Father led her to the edge of the wharf.
He turned and grabbed her shoulders as he looked down at her. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but the words never came. So instead, he hugged her again and kissed her unblemished cheek.
She said nothing, and he never looked back, as he walked aboard the ship that was going to take him away forever. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she thought it was Ser Davos. Instead, she found herself staring into the golden eyes of the dragon queen. "You said he was going to die."
"He was," the Queen said with a soft smile. "Up until he realized that you were more important than his pride. Once he realized that, he became worthy of mercy. He'll do well, you know. He was born to fight, and he'll be needed up there. He'll likely be the next Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
"What will happen to me now?"
"That depends," the queen said. "Do you prefer to sail back to King's Landing with Ser Davos? Or would you like to fly on the back of a dragon?"
Shireen's breath caught in her throat. She looked to Ser Davos, who was holding her favorite book-the Dance of Dragons.