Storm's End, 283 AC
The sea is calm this evening and a young thin man is silently placing boxes on the deck of his little ship. He nervously glances at the fleet standing in front of him, big ships anchored in front of Storm's End. Davos is the name of the man. He has no family name, just Davos. His brown eyes now wander on the castle he is determined to sneak into this night. The war has ravaged the country, and business has never been so difficult. But he's confident in his skills to get what he wants. Luck is with him: the night is dark, the moon hidden behind clouds. He slowly maneuvers his ship between the big boats and, silently, hears the conversation. Some soldiers are saying the war is lost, that Rhaegar Targaryen, Aerys's heir, has died during the battle of the Trident, and that they should stop supporting the Targaryens. Other soldiers argue, questioning the loyalty of the men who talked about escaping. Little by little, the tension rises and everything benefits Davos. He speeds up, knowing that the men are focused on their quarrel. He needs a few hours to reach the castle, and sighs with relief when he does so. If he manages to sell all his goods, life will be sweet for a while for him and his wife. Together, they have three sons and Marya, his wife, is expecting the fourth one. Davos has never known how to do something else than smuggling. And he is pretty good at that.
When he gets to the castle, he sees two soldiers guarding the gate that would allow him to get in. They look exhausted, and terribly skinny. Davos greets them joyfully:
"Hello, lads."
They try to stand straight but Davos can see their legs shaking as they point their spears to him:
"Who are you? What are you doing here?"
The smuggler can see the panic in their eyes, and he hands them piece of fish. One of them takes it and greedily looks at it but the other groans:
"Careful. Could be poisoned."
"I'm Davos", the smuggler explains. "I'm a smuggler and I'm here to sell my food to you. I know you have not eaten properly in weeks. I just want to help you guys", he smiles warmly.
And earn a nice amount of money.
The one greedier stares at the other, and he mumbles after a second:
"Fetch Lord Stannis"
He immediately does so and Davos waits, still on his boat. He sits on the deck and turns to the soldier, hands him fish:
"Come on lad, I swear on my sons' heads it is not poisoned."
He sees the soldier hesitating, but his eyes craving for food. Gods know what they have eaten to hold until then, and Davos doesn't know if he wants to know about that. In Westeros, people say they have eaten their own dead. He holds the fish closer to him and suddenly hears:
"Do not touch it."
The soldier immediately moves back and Davos stands up as a tall young man gets to him. He is as skinny and as tired as the others, but his eyes stare ferociously at Davos. Without even knowing his name, Davos knows he is the Lord of this place, and it is not because of the stag he is wearing on his chest. He radiates with authority and presence.
"Your name?" he groans when he sees Davos, examining him.
Davos bows, almost automatically:
"Davos, my Lord."
"He says he is bringing us food, my Lord", the soldier whispers, still holding the piece of fish in his hand.
Stannis observes the man standing on the small boat: he looks back honestly. He looks pretty poor, and he could easily have been paid by the Tyrells to murder him. Silently, he motions the soldier to give him the fish. He obeys and Stannis bites in the flesh.
"My Lord, no!" the two soldiers exclaim but he stops them with a gesture of his hand. He swallows the fish, and he feels like it is the best fish he has ever eaten. He turns to the soldiers and nods:
"Take him in. Help with the goods."
They call at more soldiers and they get in the castle with fish, potatoes and onions. The first men they pass by cannot believe their eyes when they see the food. Stannis calms them down, saying everyone will eat. He orders to cook a part of the fishes, with onions, and to keep the potatoes for later. When he hears that, Davos intervenes:
"My Lord, Rhaegar is dead."
Stannis glares at him, and studies his face:
"How do you know?"
Davos bows respectfully: he does not know the manners he should use with a Lord.
"I heard the men talk when I was sneaking in", he says.
Stannis remains silent and no emotions can be seen on his face. Davos stares at him: he is really impressive, for such a young man. During the following hours, the men cook and eat, thanking Davos warmly. He nods at them with a smile and sees Stannis walking away with two wooden bowls.
"Eating double part, huh?" he tells a soldier by his side.
"Lord Stannis?" the soldier asks with a frown.
Davos nods and the soldier burst out laughing:
"Hey, lads! The smuggler just told me Lord Stannis was gonna eat two bowls instead of only one!"
All the men laugh hard and Davos stares at them, wondering what was so hilarious. The soldier ends up calming down and notices the inquiring look of Davos:
"He took the bowls for his little brother and our old maester", he explains. "Lord Stannis is different from the other Lords. He will eat only once we have all done it."
Davos gives him an incredulous look: he hardly believes what the man say but, well, he doesn't know how it is here. When Stannis walks back down, the bowls are empty. Davos keeps observing him and, when the men have eaten and that they rest a bit, enjoying the warmth of the food in their stomachs, Stannis eats, sit on a trunk, and he motions the smuggler to join him. Davos walks to him and stands in front of him. Eating slowly, making long pauses, Stannis looks at him:
"In the name of my men, I have to thank you, smuggler. You saved our lives tonight."
Davos nods and bows:
"I assume you're expecting a payment", Stannis adds.
Davos holds back a snort:
"Yes, my Lord. Hard work deserves a fair reward."
Stannis had placed the wooden spoon to his lips and stops suddenly, scowling slowly but ferociously at Davos.
"Do you think what you do is work?" he growls and Davos immediately knows he has angered the Lord.
"I… I do what I have to do to survive and feed my family, my Lord."
This is the hard truth, he thinks. I am not lying.
"This is my castle and smuggling is a crime against the laws of Westeros", he scowls at him again.
He puts the bowl next to him and stands up: Davos's throat gets dry suddenly. Is he going to kill him? He fears for his life and immediately thinks about his family. How will they survive without him? But Stannis is not done:
"I will not execute you, because you saved my life and each of my soldier's one. But you sin by your hands, so you will lose the first joints from your left hand. Agree you have committed a crime, let me punish you for those, and I will make a knight of you. You will have lands in the Stormlands, and you will choose a name. Do you accept?"
Davos stares at the young man dumbfounded, and falls on his knees:
"You are too good, my Lord."
"I am not. I reward what has to be rewarded, and punish what has to be punished. Come" he simply walks to a chopping block. Davos shivers but follows him. Being knighted is a privilege he hardly believes in: the future of his sons is bright now. They will marry daughters from Lords, and will be richer than he could ever dream.
"My Lord, please swing the blade" Davos bravely kneels and lays his hand on the block.
Stannis nods:
"I would not do otherwise."
Davos closes his eyes and, when he opens them again, he stares at Stannis's ones. The Lord unsheathes his sword and, a second later, the smuggler yells with pain and curls up on the ground. Stannis wipes the blood that stained the sword and places it on his shoulders:
"I, Stannis of House Baratheon, son of Steffon of House Baratheon, create you as a knight. May you be valiant, fearless and loyal. Rise, Ser Davos."
His knees trembles with the pain but he does raise, and grabs clumsily the joints of his hand. He puts them in a piece of cloth, and turns to Stannis.
"I pledge to serve you well, my Lord."
Stannis nods:
"What is the name you will take?"
Davos turns his face to the sea: he can smell it, even among the smell of fishes, onions and potatoes.
"The sea gave me everything I have, my Lord", he explains, "and everything worth it. Seaworth", he smiles slightly. "Davos Seaworth."
"Good name", Stannis nods. He turns to a soldier:
"Take him to Maester Cressen so he can heal his wounds. I am afraid, Ser Davos, that you might spend the rest of the siege with us."
"Nothing would honor me more, my Lord", Davos nods and, after a bow and a last glance, follows the soldier, holding his bloody hand tightly against his heart.