"May the Lord of Light bless his lordship and grant him eternal life!" – Lazonos Hotaar, head of the Red priests of Dragonstone bowed sleekly as Stannis dismounted and threw the reins to one of his guards.
The storm had finally ended in the early hours of the morning and the lord was on his way to inspect the damage to the city, the harbor and the fleet. He always walked the same long route that went through both harbors and the center of the city and afforded a good view of all the goings on. Usually he was accompanied by ser Davos, but this time he was on his own. A fact that didn't escape the priest's notice.

"Is that some subtle and dodgy way of wishing death upon me?" – Stannis said with a little grin as he eyed the priest from head to toe and, as always, found his repulsive appearance to be perfectly matched with his unsavory character.

Hotaar was a short, obese man in his fifties with a red, monkey – like face, small shifty eyes and a huge, bald, round head. His beard and mustache were grey and sparse, his skin oily. He was garbed in a long scarlet robe with ample sleeves and a large hood, girded with a rich golden sash.

Stannis gestured the red priest to follow and set off briskly through the market quay towards the military harbor that lay on the other side of it.

"That god of yours grants eternal life in heaven once he thinks we've suffered enough in the living hell here on earth, doesn't he?" – Stannis asked cheekily as his eyes traveled around every corner of the civilian harbor. The jetties and ships were, thankfully, safe and whole and the marketplace was already buzzing with venders opening their stalls and repairing the few damaged ones.

Hotaar did not appreciate the humor, but smiled, none the less. He always felt like he was walking on eggshells in the company of lord Stannis, and now, after the scandal in the sept, the eerie feeling in Lazonos' guts was worse than usual. But as he was the oldest and most high – ranking priest on the island, it was his duty to rectify the situation as best he could.

"That is not entirely true, my lord" – he replied, panting as he struggled to keep up with the younger and much fitter man – "But your lordship knows very well that we all pray nightly for your health and happiness"

"Of course you do" – Stannis huffed scornfully as he nodded to one of his lieutenants, who greeted him deferentially – "But apparently some of your acolytes are too literal in their understanding of the phrase. As well as prone to 'praying' in inappropriate places and far more zealously than is acceptable"

"Your lordship, we are all mortified by Melisandre's audacious actions" – Hotaar said slimily – "On behalf of all our acolytes and followers I humbly apologize to you and to the lord septon. I have yet to see him, but…"

"You will not get a chance to see him as he is leaving this island on the first ship that sails" – Stannis replied, nodding to another one of his sailors.

"My lord?" – Hotaar gasped surprised.

"High rank means great responsibility" – Stannis said, suddenly stopping in his tracks and turning to face the panting and sweating priest – "The higher the rank, the greater the responsibility. I will not allow anyone to flout the laws of this land and common decency"

"Your lordships speaks with the wisdom far beyond his years" – Lozanos replied breathlessly, wiping his brow with a small red handkerchief – "But I am sure you will understand how concerned I am…"

"Why would you be concerned?" – Stannis asked coldly – "What the priestess did is on her own shoulders, not yours. Unless she acted on your orders?"

"Of course not, heaven forbid!" – the priest exclaimed, horrified – "But since she has been banned from the castle and forbidden to preach, we are all worried that the Lord's Fires might not be tolerated within and even without the fortress walls"

"The laws of this land dictate that everyone is free to worship the gods of their choosing as long as they do not break the law or harm those around them" – Stannis said calmly - "I respect that as much as I respect the right of every man to decide what gods he does or does not choose to worship. Every religion is free and equal in my eyes. And as long as adepts of all possible cults agree to disagree on certain points, respect each other and coexist peacefully, they have nothing to fear"

"Thank you, your lordship" – the priest bowed abjectly – "The justice of your rule is legend on both sides of the Narrow sea. We are most grateful…"

"I would appreciate it if you would show that gratitude of yours by keeping you acolytes in check" – Stannis replied coldly – "And keeping in mind that one bad egg can rot the whole barrel"

"Certainly, my lord"

"Good"

With that Stannis waved the priest away dismissively and stalked towards the well – guarded military harbor where his beloved fleet was berthed. Soon he was being saluted by the guards and sailors, who were all ready and waiting for the Master of Ships to examine his vessels.

His inspection was always strict and thorough. His shrewd eye accessed each part of every ship as he listened to the report of its captain or first – mate and nothing could escape his gaze. The process usually took longer than was necessary, but Stannis couldn't help himself. His ships were like his children. They were all built under his supervision and many were designed by him personally. He knew everything about each one and knew most of the crew by face and name at least. Many of the sailors had been with him since the fleet was born. They took Dragonstone castle under his command, defeated the Iron fleet and subdued Old Wyk.
As Stannis walked from ship to ship, he picked out a man here and there, remembered his valor and thanked him and his comrades for his service. His eyes travelled from sailor to sailor, never stopping and making every one of them feel that even for a brief moment, the admiral looked at him alone and spoke to him alone.
The sea, his fleet, sailing and shipbuilding had for many years been not only Stannis' life and duty, but also his art and passion.

Hard to believe that there ever was a time when he didn't even think of becoming a mariner, Stannis thought with a sigh and a little smile as he mounted his horse and continued his journey through the city after a long and satisfying inspection of his vessels, the majority of which were completely unharmed.
Especially not a shipwright. It was unheard of for the son of a noble lord to learn the craft of a commoner. And as a second son he was expected to become one of his brother's bannermen or household knights or pursue some other suitable career – at court, in a sept or at the Citadel. But when the "Windproud" was wrecked on the stormy waters of Shipbreaker bay, Stannis' world changed forever.

With Robert still fostered at the Eyrie, fourteen year old Stannis became acting – lord of the Stormlands, tasked to rule his brother's land with the help of his lord – steward. But Stannis couldn't just accept the fact that ships are sometimes sunk in storms, especially on waters as treacherous as those of Shipbreaker bay and go on with his life. Not after countless times of watching ships of all types sail successfully across in far worse weather.

There had to be someone responsible for the death of his parents except those blasted gods whose will Cressen was so fond of blaming, he had thought desperately. Perhaps the helmsman had made a mistake and hit a reef. Perhaps the captain should've stayed out at sea until the end of the storm. Or perhaps the ship itself wasn't solid enough and rode too unsteady on the water. And so he questioned everyone he could think of and searched through every source of information on ships and navigation he could get his hands on. Eventually, he found the answer and, as he probably should have expected, there was no one person or circumstance to blame. The "Windproud" was wrecked through a combination of poor decisions and bad luck as were countless ships before her and would be after her.

But when his research was finally completed, Stannis discovered to his own astonishment, he didn't want it to be over. Before he knew it, the sea had somehow turned from enemy to friend and the pain that drove him had become passion.

As time went on, Stannis began to learn the art of navigation from the captains of the small Baratheon fleet and in his second year as acting – lord, decided to expand the tiny shipyard on Cape Wrath. The plan was approved by his brother's guardian and, with the help of his lord – steward, by the end of the fourth year of Stannis' temporary lordship his shipyard was by far the largest one in Westeros. And Stannis himself was a fairly decent sailor.
Of course, his skills and his shipyard turned out to be invaluable after the Rebellion. When Robert, or rather Jon Arryn, charged him with building an entire fleet in less than a year, Stannis dove head – down into his work. It didn't take a lot of watching the master – shipwrights for him to decide that he wanted to become one himself. So, after several years of studying, he did.

Stannis was abruptly and most unpleasantly brought back to the present by the squeaky sounds of his wife's voice, calling him from somewhere to his left. He cursed under his breath and pulled his reins. The guards saluted.

"My lord!" – screeched Selyse as she rode up to him with a very offended look on her face.

"What are you doing here, woman?" – Stannis grumbled and gave his horse a gentle kick as soon as she caught up.

"I'm on my way to see the lady Melisandre" – she replied sourly – "I wish to see her. And since you banned her from the castle, I shall be forced to go to her myself whenever I wish to talk to her. A lady should not be obliged to do such a thing"

"Who said you are obliged? You can always stop seeing her. You wouldn't have to exhaust yourself and your head would be filled with a lot less nonsense" – Stannis chuckled meanly – "Although some exercise might do you good, get some color into you"

"And, pray, what use would a woman have for color if her lord husband refuses to do his duty by her and his own house?" – Selyse asked bitterly – "It's been over a year…"

"For fuck's sake, be quiet, woman!" – Stannis hissed through gritted teeth, looking around cautiously – "Not here!"

"Where else? As usual, I've been asking to see you for almost two days and as usual you had the audacity to say that you can't spare me even a moment" – Selyse muttered quietly, trying her best to stop her eyes from swelling up with tears.

"As usual I'm in over my head with important paperwork" – Stannis shrugged his shoulders – "You know that perfectly well"

"So, your paperwork is more important than me" – she stated grievously.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" – he asked in confusion – "What have you to do with my work?!"

"I am your wife!" – Selyse exclaimed.

"I am painfully aware of that" – Stannis hissed quietly – "Now, for goodness sake! Go see that friend of yours and leave me alone. I've a lot to do here's and there's even more to be done back at the castle. I know you want to talk to me, I told you yesterday that I'd see you today and I will. I'll send for you in the evening"

"Oh, please, do not trouble yourself, my lord" – Selyse grumbled resentfully – "I would not wish to disturb you"

"You will not disturb me…"

"Do you think I'd want to see you after what you said to me?"

"Wha… First you were mad at me for not seeing you and now you're mad at me because I said I will see you?" – Stannis asked, perplexed.

"Pray, excuse me, my lord" – Selyse replied icily – "I would not wish to hurt you any further with my company. It must be very, very painful for you if you say it outloud"

"What?" – he said, completely taken aback by the outburst that seemed to him to come from nowhere.

"Women!" – Stannis angrily as he watched Selyse gallop ahead, followed closely by her own guards.

Why do they have to be so damn difficult and illogical?! Why do they love drama so much?! And why did he always end up offending them even when he didn't mean to?! Selyse was even worse than Cersei in that respect and Cersei was the worst. He would never understand them no matter how much he tried, Stannis thought hopelessly. Never…

It was already after sundown when Davos dared to even think of showing his face in the Chamber of the Painted table where Stannis was once again busy with his work. The encounter would've been unpleasant had Stannis been in a fairly good mood, but after his return to the castle, the guards told Davos there's been another row between the lord and his wife. Thus, Davos was in no hurry to face his friend as he'd endured quite enough caprice and malice from Cressen and the Targaryen girl, but unfortunately an urgent message from King's Landing had been burning his pocket for almost two hours now. And he did want to know what on earth the matter with lady Selyse was this time…

"My lord?"- Davos uttered angelically, poking his head through the heavy door.

Stannis scowled, but didn't shoo him away.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord" – Davos said meekly as he slipped into the room – "A raven just flew in from King's Landing. Message marked urgent"

Stannis glared at him as he ripped the small scroll out of Davos' hand and glanced through the note quickly.

"Tell Clifton to prepare the 'Fury' and bring the dragon's head aboard. Be ready to leave in three hours. As expected, his grace wishes to see me"

"At once, my lord" – Davos nodded curtly, but remained where he was.

"Well?" – Stannis barked, lifting his eyes from the paper in his hand.

"Forgive me, my lord" – Davos said humbly – "I just wanted to let you know that the Targaryen is doing quite well after last night. She's very angry off course…"

"Good" – Stannis answered calmly, turning his attention back to his work.

"Shall I tell the lady Selyse you wish to see her before you leave?" – Davos inquired cautiously.

He was really testing his luck. He knew was allowed to push the boundaries, but push too far and he would taste Stannis' wroth. And that was something no one wanted to do…

"Damn you, damn the Targaryen and damn the lady Selyse" – Stannis grumbled. He knew perfectly well what the nosy scoundrel was up to – "Should I shorten you nose as well as you fingers, ser?"

"Me'lord!" – Davos bowed respectfully and scampered out of the room.

And damn the blasted paperwork, Stannis thought as the door closed behind ser Davos. Perhaps that bloody wife of his was right and he really was neglecting his family. He hadn't visited little Shireen in quite a while and wouldn't be able to do so for a while yet. And he would much rather spend his last few hours on Dragonstone with his little daughter than buried in his work, which he had no chance of finishing before he left anyway.

Stannis sighed heavily as he stretched his sleeping muscles and got up from his chair.

At least there was one little person on the whole goddamn island who didn't lie, cheat, fawn, resent or disobey him. Yet…

Stannis smiled tenderly as he approached his daughter's chambers. It was one of those rare moments when his lips didn't just twitch into something remotely resembling a grin, but formed a real, sincere smile.

"All hands on deck! Bang! Bang! Bang! Hoist sails!" – the child's voice rang loudly and cheerfully, like a little silver bell.

Oh, goodness, what was the child up to now, Stannis thought warmly as he listened to Shireen excitedly shout commands she didn't understand.
When did she add naval warfare to her list of interests? As if the girl's obsession with dragonlords and dragons wasn't bad enough…
Not that he really thought such an obsession bad. But it was not appropriate for a highborn lady.
"It's all your fault" – Stannis could practically hear his wife's usual complaint ringing in his ears – "How am I to make the child into a proper lady if you and that mongrel friend of yours influence her with your history books and your war – stories?! You shouldn't concern yourself with her until it's time for her to marry. Mothers raise daughters, fathers raise sons"
As much as Stannis hated to agree with anything that came out of Selyse's mouth, there was no denying Shireen wasn't exactly ladylike. She should be sewing and playing with her dolls, not reading about dragons and, gods forbid, talking tike a sailor…

Stannis opened the door carefully and saw Shireen sitting on her bed, waving a small toy ship as if it were on choppy water.

"Oh, no! We've spit a mast!" – she screamed, completely engrossed in her game and not noticing him.

"Sprint a mast, child" – Stannis chuckled as he entered the room.

"Father!" – Shireen squealed happily and ran to hug him.

Stannis sighed awkwardly and patted her head as the little girl pressed her cheek to his belly again.

"Where did you hear all of those sailor's words, huh?" – he asked when she finally let go.

"The Onion Knight told me" – she replied, taking his hand and leading him to the bed.

"Did he tell you what they all mean?" – Stannis asked as they sat down.

"No… But he made this for me and we played 'pirates against the Sealord of Braavos'" – Shireen said happily and proudly showed off her new toy.

"Did you, now?" – Stannis chuckled as he looked at the beautifully carved little vessel and made a mental note to tell Davos what exactly his position on his daughter playing 'pirates' was.

"Yes, I'm reading a book about the adventures of Elyo Grivas, the first Sword of Braavos" – the little girl continued excitedly – "I love it, it's full of sword – fights and ships and treasures. But I was sorry when Elyo killed all the pirates, they're all so brave and jolly. I'd love to meet one, someday"

"No, you wouldn't" – Stannis replied sternly – "Pirates are cruel and vile creatures, who kill and rob honest people. They deserve to be hanged and you would do well to remember it, understood?"

"Yes, father" – Shireen said meekly.

"It's a beautiful boat, though" – he said, turning his attention back to the little vessel.

"It's not a boat, it's a battleship" – Shireen replied proudly – "It's my war – galley, just like the 'Fury'"

"Oh no, it's too small to be a galley" – Stannis shook his head – "Looks more like a cog to me"

"What's a cog?"

"A small vassal with one mast and a square – rigged sail" – replied Stannis, who was always happy to talk about any kind of ships.

"How d'you know my boat isn't a galley?" – Shireen asked almost offended.

"Because of its proportions. The hull is short. These here…" – he continued, pointing out parts of the little boat – "Are the stem and stern posts. They're straight, relatively long and rather vertical. A galley, on the other hand, has three or four masts, a beautiful, long, slender hull and…"

Stannis stopped midsentence as he noticed that Shireen was suddenly looking quite upset.

"So it isn't a battle ship?" – she asked disappointedly.

Now look what you've done, you fool, Stannis though furiously as he looked at her sad little face. Masts and proportions?! Are you serious, man?! This is a child's game not naval bloody architecture!

"Well… no" – he answered reluctantly. No matter how upsetting the truth was, he still wasn't going to lie to her – "But cogs are good for trade…"

Gods, Renly's right, you really are the worst bore in the Seven Kingdoms, Stannis sighed, desperately trying to remember anything even remotely interesting about cogs since trade obviously wasn't something to spark the interest of a child.

"… and Bryan of Oldtown's 'Spearshaker' was a cog" – he continued hopefully in a desperate attempt to rectify the situation – "And a great ship it was"

"Really?" – Shireen asked rather doubtfully, throwing her father a searching look.

"Oh, yes. Bryan of Oldtown was a great explorer and adventurer, who discovered many things about northern Essos. The 'Spearshaker' sailed the Shivering sea as far as Ibben. And that's a very dangerous voyage very few galleys would be able to make. Because a cog can sail in rough seas much better than any galley ever built"

"Well, exploring is interesting too, I suppose" – Shireen sighed, turning the little boat in her hands - "But it's still not a battleship"

Stannis shifted uncomfortably.
Why did he always have to be such an impossible know – it – all as Renly rightly nicknamed him? Why couldn't he just let the girl pretend her toy was the galley she wanted it to be?!

Because it wasn't right, that's why… he grumbled to himself.

"Would you take me to the beach, father?" – Shireen suddenly asked pleadingly – "I really want to set my boat sail, but mother says I can't go. And that she'd burn my boat if I tried to sneak out behind her back with ser Davos"

"She said that?!" – Stannis gasped angrily.

"Yes. She doesn't like ser Davos" – Shireen nodded – "But if you take me, she won't do anything. Please!"

"I cannot do that" – Stannis said guiltily – "I've just received a message from the king. I'm going back to King's Landing in a couple of hours and I don't know when I'll be back"

"But you just got home" – Shireen whined sulkily.

"But you shouldn't try to sail that little boat of yours anyway" – Stannis continued – "It won't sail. It'll fall to the side as soon as it hits the surface"

"It will?"

"I'm afraid so…"

"Oh" – Shireen said sadly as her little head dropped down.

Stannis frowned painfully. He was bleeding inside to see the little girl so unhappy.

Once again, it was all his fault. Perhaps Selyse is right and Shireen'd be better off interacting with her father as little as possible. There was nothing he wanted more than to see his little daughter happy, but somehow he always ended up harming her.
He'd ruined her life by giving her the accursed doll and greyscale along with it. Thanks to him, Shireen was forced to spend her childhood shut up in her room like a prisoner instead of running free. He was supposed to protect her, but he was never around long enough to save Shireen the grief of a stupid and cruel mother. He couldn't take her to King's Landing with him as the bastards at court would be much worse than anything she'd have to endure at home.
One day, not too long from now, she'd become a woman. A kind and clever young woman. He would, of course, do everything in his power to arrange a good match for her, but the sad reality was that Shireen would most likely never be loved as a woman should be. Respected – yes, admired – possibly… but nothing more. All thanks to him…

And now he had even taken away the joy of her toy battleship.
Stannis sighed heavily and closed his eyes. His heart was breaking and he wished he only knew what he could do to…

"You know what…" – he said suddenly – "You want a battleship? You'll get one"

"What do you mean?" – Shireen looked up with interest.

"I'll build you one"

"You mean… a real one?" – she gasped happily.

"Aye. A real one. I'll draw up all the plans and you will choose the name and the figure head"

"And my ship will sail in your fleet?" – Shireen asked, her little eyes lighting up.

"Of course"

"Can you make it a big galley? So that it would be like the 'Fury'?"

"If you like" – he smiled – "Or, even better, I'll build you a galleon"

"What's a galleon?"

"It's a new kind of ship. The dragonstone master – shipwrights and I have been working on the design for the past few years. It combines the best qualities of the swanships from the Summer Isles, carracks and galleys. It's a large ocean – going vessel with four masts, several decks and one row of oars. It's stable in the heaviest seas, very fast, agile and maneuverable"

"It sounds wonderful!"

"Would you like one? But I warn you, it won't be built for quite a while. At least eight months from the day we lay keel and we won't lay keel until all the… er… other work we're doing is complete"

"I don't mind!"

"Very well then. You'll think of a name and draw me a picture of what you'd like for a figurehead as soon as you can"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" - Shireen squealed delightedly and hugged her father tightly. This time he hugged her back.