Davos II

"They really wear things that cost this much?" Marya was unused to having her hair up, Davos knew, and she certainly was unused to the fine silk that now made up her dress. A girl from Flea bottom, a new wool dress was something she might get ever two years, certainly when they had three boys who all needed clothes and something to fill the pits they called stomachs. Even with the money he had made as a smuggler, Davos had been barely able to look after the four of them. And certainly, were they to have more children…

'Bah,' Davos thought, smiling as he watched his wife twist a bit in her new black clothes, 'Do not need to care for such things anymore,' he smiled as she gave him a look, 'I am a knight now, and soon Marya and the boys will be safe away from this life. That was why I set everything on smuggling in those onions.'

And it was proving to be a success. Besides the fine silk of his wife's dress, he himself was in a new doublet, a black ship adorning his new sigil. His boys had been bought clothes, though they would not be fitted, so that no money was needlessly wasted upon things that would be outgrown in a season. They were also given many new toys, including a rather expensive set of toy boats. All of which was to join a new plot of land on Shipbreaker Bay, where Davos supposed he would build a keep.

All of which were the gifts of his new lord. Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, was a man of uncommon generosity. While some of these were "loans" they were loans ore of servitude and service. Davos would be expected to help lower smuggling in the area as well as whatever Stannis needed. And as far as he could see, he was being given more than he possibly could imagine.

'The man gives much,' Davos thought absentmindedly, before twisting his left hand's fingers, and sighing and the missing tips, 'Though he expects much in turn…though that is something he shares with his brother.'

"Yes," Davos said finally, getting his wife to look at him, a slight frown upon her face. She was nervous about this, Davos knew, as this was a complete transformation of her place in life. She had been a good wife, better than he had deserved, but she was not what one would call dainty. A motherly figure even before her thirtieth name day, with the muscles befitting her life as a fishmonger. Which likely made the dress of a noblewoman fit more strangely, "They do where these," he shook his head, "But I think they suit you."

"You are no good at lying dear," she said, and Davos coughed at the jab. For the next few moments, Marya continued to adjust her dress, before finally nodding, and holding out her arm, "I am ready," she then stopped, before adding, a slight smirk on her lips, "My lord."

"Well, my lady," Davos smiled, taking her arm, "It is my great honor to your partner in this debut," he lead his wife to the door, before stopping, and looking back. The three boys were all staring at them, their faces in a mix of disgust and confusion. Next to them was an older woman with a keen eye. Rella had been a family friend of his wife, who had often helped care for the boys. She was to come with them to their new home, which was easy as she had no family left to tie her here. Davos nodded at the woman, who nodded back, "Keep them from trouble Rella."

"Of course Davos."

'It is Ser Seaworth,' Davos groused inside his head. He knew he should not take offense to the woman, but so many did not like that he was now a knight, he felt like being addressed without his title almost made his new role more and more a murmur's farce. Besides Stannis and the men at the siege, the only one who had seemed to recognize him as a knight had been Mace Tyrell, 'That it tis my enemy…'

Davos smiled, shaking off his doubts, as he led his wife out into Fishmonger's square, northward up the hook, along the way to the Red Keep. He'd often looked up from his time in Fleabottom at the red stone of the castle, and wondered what sort of things were going on there. Now, he would not only know, but he would be taking part in them. That he might avoid the danger of being killed by some thug or murderer along the streets of the city itself.

'And yet,' Davos thought, his mind going to the knife he had hidden along his right thigh, 'Somehow, this feels like I might be entering a place just as dangerous,' the whispers of what happened to Princess Elia and her children fluttering through his ears, 'only with a costume of manner.'

It took nearly an hour for the two to finally arrive at the gate house, and nearly half that to get through. Tonight was to be a great celebration, and the line of guests to arrive was massive. Dozens of different nobles had arrived, and Davos felt some discomfort as he joined them in walking through the set of stag wearing guards into the Outer Yard of the Red Keep. Something, somewhere, kept telling him he did not belong here, and that he was liable to get his head lobed from his shoulders.

"I never thought I'd ever see the walls from inside," Marya said, staring in wonder as they finally passed through, a look of disbelief on the guard's face despite a letter declaring them honored guests. She looked around, watching the different women around, and then reached her hand down and took up his tightly, "I worry that I might not be noble enough a wife for this."

"You are more than noble enough for this," Davos said, before looking at the sneers by a man with a golden triangle sticking up into a sky with a great yellow son. A house from the west, if Davos remembered correctly, and thus the set of houses here to support the family of the bride to be, "Remember this is your home more than theirs. They have come to your city," he glared back at the Westerlander, who turned away, nose held high, "Do not back down before them."

"My Ser Davos," his wife laughed, "You have changed more than I already thought," she shook her head, "When do you plan to seek my favor at the lists."

"When my back is ten years younger."

"Ha," she shook her head, all the while joining Davos as they walked towards the throne room. She looked nervously around, and watched as men and women sputtered all around the yard, "Are you sure this is the correct place?"

"Yes," Davos nodded, "I have been here before, and the main event shall happen in the throne room," he winced slightly, "Tis…the most open space of honor for the bride's father to show his victory."

They climbed the steps to the throne room. On each side were two members of the Gold Cloaks, all of them wary, and more than a few glaring with hatred. Though their rage seemed to be at specific houses, and Davos could guess from that that those houses were from the Westerlands. The Gold Cloaks had lost many of their brothers in the sack of King's Landing, and that not yet being a year prior to this, the hatred was still fresh in their hearts. Perhaps once it was Lannister gold filling their pockets they'd let it go, but for the moment, they had in no way forgiven the horrors of that day.

Having moved inside the Throne Room, Marya looked over the room in awe at the massive twisting seat of metal. Davos could see his wife's jawline set, as the horror of what that seat was finally came to her mind. He did not blame her reaction, he'd been the same when he'd first come in here wit-

"Ah, Ser Davos," the voice of Davos's lord cut through the din of the general conversation of the room. He looked, and couldn't help but smile as he saw Stannis Baratheon march up to them, his mouth in its ever etched thin straight line. The younger man arrived quite swiftly, doing his best to ignore the conversation of those around him. As he arrived, he noticed Marya, and then slightly nodded his head, "I take it this is your wife then?"

"Yes Lord Stannis," Davos said quickly, developing formality already coming to his lips faster than he ever thought, "Marya and I have been married for over ten years now," his wife did her best to curtsy, and Stannis merely nodded, "We thank you for the invitation," at that, Stannis nodded, before motioning to follow him. Davos grabbed his wife, and the two were swiftly following Stannis as they cut through the crowd, and toward one of the side rooms. Davos could see many a noble whisper and point at Stannis.

'I hope we are not causing him more trouble,' Davos thought idly, 'Least my family can afford is for Stannis to think we are more trouble than we're worth.'

"What do you think of the Red Keep, Lady Seaworth?" Stannis asked as they finally arrived in the small alcove, away from the prying eyes of the nobles. At first, Marya seemed to jump at the question given to her, but with a quick nod from Davos, she took in a breath, and smiled at her lord.

"Tis…different than I expected Your Grace," she said, "I knew twas big," she shook her head, "But the size of the thing makes it very impressive," she then stopped, and gave a quick look over at the Iron Throne, "Though there are things that I would not wish to bring to my own home."

"Yes," Stannis nodded, not fully taking in Marya's meaning, his eyes swaying over the crowds of people, "There is…much too much."

"Yes," Davos decided that going along with his lord would be best. The three of them just stood there a moment, a silence between them that seemed to be a gaping hole, with his wife not knowing how to speak with the Baratheon and his lord…still having trouble speaking with women, "My Lord," Davos finally said, and the slight release of Stannis's eyebrows was enough for Davos to see that some of the tension was gone, "May I ask if your wife is well," and then there was some tension added, "I know you have you have had your time filled with work while here, but have you had the chance to write to her," the look of discomfort only seemed to grow on Stannis's face, and Davos began to think he may have only made things worse, "My apol-"

"No," Stannis finally said, before stopping, and then saying, "I mean yes," he stopped. For a minute, he took in a deep breath from his nostrils, and then stared at Davos with piercing blue eyes, "No need for apologies," he said firmly, though a bit too quickly added, "Yes, I have written my wife," he sighed, "I told her it shall be sometime before I will return," he looked over toward the center of the throne, and Davos could see the beginning of a grind of his teeth, "The crown prince must be present at the royal wedding."

"Ah."

'I suppose it was too much to ask for some reconciliation these past few days,' he remembered being alongside Stannis as they had broken the bad news that neither Prince Viserys or his new sister were on Dragonstone when the fleet had taken it. Stannis had already been deeply aggravated to be placed in charge of the construction of a new royal fleet, a task he had no experience in. That he had done all that work to fail had almost sent him over the edge, "And he did go over the edge when he met with the king,' Davos had to keep himself from shaking his head, 'By the seven, to be caught in two storms.'

"My brother," Davos was brought out of the shouting match that had occurred four nights earlier, "...Jon Arryn," and then he nearly snorted at the correction, "Wishes to show the unity of the new dynasty by having myself here," he sighed, "Though…I am glad that Renly and," and then the awkward slit of a cough was back, "and Lysa are back home."

"Do you not wish them here?" Davos nearly felt the need to slam his foot down on his wife, but the sudden change of Stannis's mouth to a straight line from a frown, the closest thing to a smile that Davos could remember seeing on the boy's face since the relief of his castle, calmed him. Marya seemed to blank for a second, before adding, "If you forgive my intrusi-"

"No dear lady," the use of the term caused a light blush to appear on the woman's face, "I…I did not want them here," he paused taking in a deep breath, "Lysa is…a nervous sort," Davos could accept the description. While she had seemed to grow more comfortable by the day after the wedding, she was still quite soft spoken, "And with a child on the way," at that Stannis stopped, and took in another breath, "It would be best to not tax her."

'So that's why you are so nervous,' Davos couldn't help but nod at the younger man, 'First babe,' he remembered when he and Marya had had Dale, 'That nervous belly you are feeling. The questioning of how you could even be a father.'

"I am certain your wife is most grateful," Marya said thoughtfully. A second later her eyes widened, before adding, "Your grace."

"No need for that," Stannis said, though the relaxing of his jaw meant that he appreciated the title, "After all," he looked again to where Robert was, and the group of nobles around them, "After all, this is the beginning of assuring that I should not ever sit upon the Iron Throne."

Davos sighed, before finally turning with his wife, and staring at the crowd at the center of this all. First was the great standing beacon of the new Kingdom, Robert Baratheon. The man had proven more impressive than Davos had imagined. A head and a half taller than Davos himself, his shining black hair seemed to reflect the light of the torches illuminating the room. He was quite loud, and there was a smile beneath his lips. Davos could understand why the girls swooned for him, and why, if there was to be a new king, Robert looked how the new king should.

But something told Davos that the smile was fake. It was not only that Robert had only a few days earlier been so furious that he had smashed a desk with his bare hands, threatening to do the same to Stannis for failing to capture the last Targaryens, but his eyes didn't seem to match. That, Davos supposed had to do with the girl standing in that group not being the one he wanted. Even Davos, as low as he had been, knew that the war had been started when Robert's betrothed had been taken from him by the old crown prince. It had at least somewhat explained his rage at Stannis. Not only had the last end been left loose, but he had failed to fully avenge the dead girl.

'The news had only come two weeks ago,' Davos considered, 'To know the woman you love was dead and gone, and then to be denied final victory,' his stomach turned. Again, the questions of the high born troubled him, 'I suppose it explains so much of his rage…I just am glad that it twas Stannis and not me who felt the winds of his fury.'

Yes, a Raven had come from Eddard Stark. News that his sister had died, that Robert had lost his betrothed. And, that, as Davos watched the balding man only a few feet away from Robert, that the most hated man in King's Landing was about to have all his desires granted. For there was nothing so much that Tywin Lannister wanted, as Stannis had explained to Davos as they had walked home from that meeting, as to have a grandson as a king. And with a daughter the correct age and eligible, it had only been a few days of discussion for Tywin to have betrothed his eldest daughter to the new king.

Davos did not quite know what to make of the the young woman. Certainly, she was beautiful, perhaps the prettiest girl he had ever laid his eyes on. Even her sister, while as lovely in face was less…developed as Cersei. With a low cut dress, more than a few men had taken to gazing at her with less than clean eyes. She seemed to be fine with such looks, performing the proper courtesy and customs. She dutifully bowed to her new husband, and showed him deference that Davos would bet her father had drilled into her for this day.

And yet, somehow, Robert did not give her his full attention. His eyes would go to his bride to be, for the wedding itself was only a month away. Yet he was never on her, but through her, looking for something that would never be there. He had seen such eyes before…but most men would grow past them. In a few months, once he'd had his wife in his bed, and they were able to get to know one another, they'd be fine. Most marriages aren't built on some sort of deep soul connection, the love that songs were written for. They were developed over time, and communication.

"Well," suddenly, Davos turned on his heel, a voice he'd only heard once hitting the back of his ear, "Tis good to see you again Stannis," and as he did so, he came face to face with gray-eyed Ned Stark, his wife, and a bundle of cloth sitting in the young woman's arms, "Has been a few months since we last met. How are you?"

"Eddard Stark," Stannis nodded. With a quick look, Davos had to admire the swiftness of his Lord's growth. Previously, Eddard Stark had been slightly taller than Stannis, but now, Stannis had come to pass the northern man. Stannis bowed his head, "Lady Artoria," and the queen to be's sister smiled brightly at the man in front of her, "And…I take it this to be Jon then."

Jon, the babe in the cloth, seemed to twitch, and at that Artoria almost immediately raised up a hand and twisted her fingers in front of the babe's face. A second later, small little hands reached out, and began to play with its mother. Eddard seemed to smile at that, though he quickly gave a nod to Stannis, "Yes, this is Jon," he then shook his head, "I suppose you heard about our meeting then."

"It was hard not to hear of it," Stannis said, and Davos had to agree. Two days ago, less than a full day since he and Stannis had returned from Dragonstone, Eddard and his wife had arrived with two things, their child…and the bones of Lyanna Stark. Robert Baratheon had begged to see the latter, and despite the apparent rift that had formed between them after Tywin's sack, Ned had come to Robert with them. The wailing had been said to be heard from all the way in Baelor's Sept, though that was clearly a mere fancy.

Fishmonger's Square was much closer, and he had not been able to hear a thing.

But there had been more, at least after what had been a whole night of lamentation. The Starks had been hoping to leave almost immediately, but Robert had talked them into staying until this, if only because Eddard would not be at his actual wedding. While they had been reluctant, all the other members of their party already having gone back home, the two had agreed. That, had been enough to allow for the introduction of baby Jon Stark.

It had been the talk of King's Landing. Artoria was famous for her victory over Barristan Selmy, and now clearly she had been with Jon while doing so. The legend was growing, and while no song had yet been made for it, he'd heard enough of the bards of the city plucking away in taverns that he knew at least a half dozen would be completed before the next topic of fancy came. One of them might even be good.

But the child was popular. Many were claiming that Jon was the child that represented the birth of the new dynasty, some claiming he had been guiding the hand of his beloved mother as she slayed the Kingsguard's steed. It was stirring stuff, even to Davos's admittedly smallfolk mind.

"He looks like you writ small," Stannis observed, and Davos could not help but agree. The gray eyes, the brown curls, and the pouting mouth made him look like Davos imagined Lord Stark looked when he had been a newborn babe. Artoria seemed to agree, as she giggled at Stannis's remark. At that, Eddard shook his head, and then Stannis continued, "Strong looking boy though," and Artoria nodded, "You must be very proud."

"Yes," Artoria said, her smile softening, as she set her fingers against the boy's face, "Yes, I am so proud."

"What of you Lord Stannis," Eddard said strongly, his eyes immediately turning up from his son, "We hear that you are expecting," he looked around, "I see that your wife is in Storm's End then?"

"Yes," Stannis said curtly. He appeared to put up a defense, "I…wish to make sure that my family comes to no harm…"

"Certainly," Ned said quickly, "Believe you me, with everything that happened," Eddard paused, "And Jon, I wish that I had left Artoria safe somewhere this whole war," he then placed a hand on Stannis's shoulder, "There is nothing to be ashamed of. You and your wife should do what is best for you."

Stannis paused for a moment, before nodding. He then began to speak again, "I'm certain my wife would have liked to see you though," he offered, "She deeply appreciates your actions on our wedding," and the tone of his voice meant he did as well, "Though, she just seems to like Storm's End better than traveling," he added, "She not only has a child, but Renly has been following her like a lost pup," and then, finally, the tips of his mouth were over the horizontal line, "He is lucky Lysa is so accommodating. Suppose she is using him to prepare for ours."

"Very kind of her," Eddard said, his eyes locked forward, "To look for a child that is not hers."

"Yes," Stannis nodded, his eyes pushed to the ground, "Lysa is quite kind to do so," he shook his head, "She is…also worried considering…"

"Considering?" Marya asked, and Davos was tempted to try and apologize for his wife once more. Luckily, the looks of confusion were evident on the Lord and Lady Stark, and the glances they gave Stannis and Davos at least left an excuse for an explanation.

"I would have thought that the Lord Hand would have explained it to you when you saw him," Stannis said, an eyebrow raised. Though thinking back, Davos himself hadn't seen the Hand of the King recently, even when coming in for the meeting, the old man had not been there to mediate the argument. And that made sense due to-

"Caitlyn Tully suffered a misfortune."

It was a terrible thing, the loss of a child before it breathes its first breath. To lose a first was perhaps worse, as there was no other babe to distract the mother. Even worse was there was no given explanation, she had been doing nothing other than staying with her husband in the Red Keep. Yet she still lost the babe right after the Royal Fleet had set sail for Dragonstone. That even such a calm pace could result in the death of a child in the womb had likely had Stannis keep Lysa in Storm's End. Lysa had already had her own misfortune, and any strain might cause something to go wrong.

'Yet another reason the whole thing tastes of ash,' Davos could not help but observe, looking over the still sullen crowd, 'The Dragon's still hide away in the East, the sacker of the city is to become grandfather to kings, and the Hand has lost his next child,' the faces of Eddard and Artoria were twisted into horror, with the lady of Winterfell pulling Jon tighter into her chest, tears nearly on her face, 'Do not cry, Lady Artoria,' he thought, 'You are the one to have marched through the valley of death and came out whole. Hold your head proud.'

"That is, horrible," Lord Stark finally brought himself to say, his eyes on his wife. She snapped to attention, and looked back at her husband, pulling herself closer in to the taller man, and bringing Jon along too, "To lose a child, I…," the two stared at one another, and Davos almost thought he saw tears in the blonde woman's eyes, "I cannot imagine the pain she and Jon are going through."

"Very horrible," Marya nodded, her small folk manners cutting through, "I lost a babe, would have been my third," at that Artoria stared at her intensely, while Marya continued, "Was a terrible thing, truly awful."

"You lost a child?" Artoria asked, "After having two already," her eyes seemed to waver a bit, and she looked if only for a moment as if the world around her was dead. She looked down at the babe in her arms, and Davos did not want to know what was going through her thoughts.

"Yes Lady Stark," Marya nodded, a sad look in her eye. She then continued, "Tis most unfortunate, but tis a chance with most pregnancies," she rubbed her back, "Something all women must live with."

Artoria paused, before looking down at her child. Then, Eddard Stark's arm wrapped around her shoulder, and she looked up into his gray eyes. FInally, after a moment, the two managed to regain their composure. Davos sighed, glad at least his wife had avoided actually insulting the two very important nobles. Still, he felt some kind of need to apologize to the two, only to stop when Stannis let out a massive sigh.

"It appears that the king is ready to see you," Stannis said, and the group turned to see that Robert's attention had indeed been brought to them. The taller man had a massive smile as he looked on Ned and Artoria, waving at them to come over. Stannis let out a sigh, before moving his head over toward the king. Ned and Artoria paused, and gave a look to one another, before they finally nodded. Finally, they began to push forward, moving between different sets of nobles.

"Least we do not have to go into that storm…," he finally said, placing a hand on Marya's shoulder, "Already there is much too much for me to understand," he watched as the three had to stop to nod their head at what looked like one of the Crowland houses, one with a Seahorse on sea green, "Too much speaking about things in ways make no sense."

"I am sorry if I stepped on my tongue," his wife offered. Davos gave her a short smile, which seemed to calm his wife. Altogether, it did not appear that either Stannis or the Stark's misliked his wife. Which was at least good enough for Davos to not have to have worries for how she'd handle the new life they'd live. At the same time, he looked at his wife, who was staring at the back of the smallest of the three. She then gave Davos a questioning glance, and then asked, "Is it common for ladies to bring babes like that to," she waved her hands up around the throne room.

"I'm…I'm not sure," Davos noted, looking around at the other ladies. Besides Artoria, he certainly didn't see any other mother with a child that young, "It does not seem to be common," he then rubbed the back of his neck, "Though I would not put it past it just be a fancy of hers," he motioned at the girl, "She is not quite like most other ladies."

Marya narrowed her eyes, and Davos sighed. He knew there was part of her that questioned whether he might move on from her and find himself a younger wife. It would not be the first time that a hedge knight had done such a thing. And that alongside his…adventures while being away across the sea in Essos would certainly not provide her much comfort in his loyalty to her. But he wasn't even thinking such. She'd been a good wife to him, better than a rotten smuggler could have asked for.

"I mean to say," he said quickly, trying to answer, "That she was the lady who defeated Ser Barristen the Bold in single combat," he again looked her over, and wondered how such a small frame pulled such a mighty feat off, "So, I think she might be quite different than most of the ladies in this room."

"Clearly," she stared, and then stopped, "Wait, she defeated Ser Barristan, at the Trident?"

"Yes," Davos said.

"But that was barely six months ago," she answered, her eyes widening at the babe in the girl's arms, "She fought and defeated the most legendary knight in the Seven Kingdoms when she had a baby at least halfway grown in her belly?"

Davos stopped, and then slowly counted the months. They hadn't said anything about how long Jon had been born, but clearly it had been at least a month since his birth. He hadn't been able to look long enough, but even the need of travel would mean that would likely be as late as the babe could be born. And Davos would put that on the late side. He then thought back to the time he had heard the Lady Stark speak to her husband, and blinked.

'I knew she was pregnant,' he thought, 'Yet with the way she spoke of it, and his reaction,' he reached up, and rubbed his beard, 'Twas more as though she had only just discovered it herself…very strange.'

"Davos?"

"Tis strange," Davos admitted, before, at least as much to himself as to Marya, "Yet," he then pushed these thoughts to the front of his mind, "Though, if a girl can defeat that Barristen, tis too much of a question that she did so while carrying a babe?"

"...how would you know," Marya rolled her eyes, "Have you ever carried one?"

Before Davos could respond, the three they were watching made it to the King's group. Robert smiled, and rushed over to grab up Lord Stark and pull him into a crushing hug. The wolf seemed to strain beneath the embrace, though soon the man was let go, and he held himself up.

"Ned," He laughed aloud, before slamming his hand along his foster brother's back, "You actually managed it," he waved his hand at Artoria, "I knew you had it in you, and here you are," he smiled, "You managed a son before I did," the Warden of the North nodded, "Gods, if you'd have told me before we left the Eyrie that you'd get ahead of me on this, before," he stopped for a moment, his eyes staring off into the wall, only to blink, and bring himself back, "Before this blasted war, I would have never have believed it," he then pulled Eddard into a lighter hug, "But it's good to see you like this and not…"

Davos didn't need to hear anymore. They were still commiserating about Lord Stark's dead sister. And certainly, it seemed that Robert at least had the good sense to not say it outloud now, with his bride to be right next to him. The lioness was looking quite proud, though somewhere in her emerald eyes Davos thought he saw a flash of…something. There was a fierceness there, one that Davos could see in the eyes of her father.

Though not in the eyes of her brother…

"Tis good to introduce you to our son," Eddard said aloud. As the Lord of the North and the King continued to talk on things, Davos turned his mind to the Kingslayer. That Robert had allowed Jamie Lannister to keep his head alone had been something of a scandal. That he was still with a white cloak was a catastrophe. Davos had heard of the difficulties they had had in trying to fill out the five missing posts of the Kingsguard in the past few months. No one seemed to want the position, at least none of the great knights had wanted it. The Blackfish, Lyn Corbray and the Hound of Winterfell had all seemingly turned positions down. Men such as that would not wish to serve alongside such a stain against their honor as Jamie Lannister. Twas why only a second rate knight like Meryn Trant, who had gained no level of recognition in the fighting of the war, had managed to become the first to fill one of the five open positions.

Yet Jamie…was not what Davos had expected. His face was adorned in a constant frown, eyes sunken and hair a bird's nest. Unlike his father and sister, he did not stand proud, high above all around him. Indeed, the emerald of his sunken eyes seemed to be so much paler than his families. Altogether, it appeared as if the Kingslayer was quite truly and utterly miserable standing there.

'And if my wife had anything to say,' he thought, 'then she'd say he'd earned it.'

Davos's mind then focused on Tywin Lannister, and he wondered if the man had poisoned the dynasty that he now sought to marry his family into. Davos was a Stag now, and that had meant that his wife would be able to be a stag too. She'd been able to be polite enough to Stannis, and once they moved out to the Stormlands, she'd more than likely be able to be a normal Stormlander lady. But like many in the city of King's Landing, there was some love for Aerys. To them, he might have been a bit mad, but all the lords and ladies seemed a bit mad. And Aerys hadn't sacked the city, slaughtering women and children in the streets for no other reason if he could. Sure, the "Mad King" might have set some nobles on fire, but they were nobles, and it wasn't like Aerys was trying to burn the smallfolk.

Davos didn't agree with that, not only because he had fought for the Stags, but because he actually remembered that more than a few small folk maids and pages had disappeared into the Red Keep and never come back. Twas memory playing tricks on the masses that lead them to think highly of Aerys. Yet he knew that the city hated the Lannisters for what they'd done, and he could not blame them for their hatred of the Gold Lion.

'And this marriage,' Davos thought, watching as the old lion pushed himself forward, toward his younger daughter and her husband, 'Seems to be merely another opening of the wound of the sack itself,' he shook his head, 'Gods, it does not matter which family wins the game of thrones, all that matters is that the smallfolk always lose.'

As if to prove that, Robert stepped forward, and held his hands in the air, "Now, with the Heir to Winterfell here," Artoria did her best to hold the babe in her arms closer, "I suggest a celebration!"

There came a great cheer, and suddenly bards and mummers at the edge of the room began to play. Servers came out with small plates of tiny pieces of food. Twas not a full meal or feast, but the singularly cooked pigeons were displayed on plates, feathers reattached to the body as they were carried to and from the kitchens. Alongside that pitchers of wine and ales of all types began to be hoisted in by strapping young men, all joined by young pages with arm fulls of cups. Many of the nobles took up the food and wine, though clearly they were not used to eating without a table beneath them, as soon some of the food was being spilled.

"There is no feast?" Marya asked, twisting her neck towards Davos, who was pulled away from the sudden presentation of a banner of Gold and Red, Lion and Stag across from one another, "I would have thought-"

"The wedding will be in a few weeks, and the real feast then," Davos nodded, "This was just…an announcement of the betrothal," he watched as Robert grabbed up a two goblets and had one man pour in wine, and the other ale, "And to celebrate the Lord and Lady fo Winterfell since they will not be able to make it to the wedding itself," he watched as Cersei Lannister's face seemed to form a look that made him wonder if she had stepped on horse droppings, having just barely managed to dodge a wave of wine that nearly spilled over on her from her husband's cup.

"Hmmm," Marya wondered, before finally saying, "Seem to me that the wife and the father would not be happy that it is the guests that seem to be the center of the celebration." Davos gave a look over at Tywin. His face was stern, yet not more than he had ever previously seen.

"It is his second daughter being celebrated," Davos guessed, and Marya then looked, and stared at the queen, "Though I doubt it soothes the queen," who was looking more and more infuriated as Robert had managed to pull the Starks aside and began to lead them around, introducing them to the nobles of Kings Landing, "Though she shall have the rest of the month to be the center of the world," he sighed, "Hopefully, that will be enough for them."

It had been at least two hours since the beginning of the party, and Davos was quite sure he had seen enough of the nobles to never wish to speak or see them again. He was absolutely certain that was true of his wife. Marya's face was covered in a nearly full blush as they began to push their way from the main hall into one of the side corridors, though it was not from any alcohol. Or at least, none she had taken.

"I offer what apology I can," Stannis said, his face growing more relaxed now as he lead Davos and his wife from the hall, and the Crab lord, "Lord Celtigar is a man who thinks his blood means he has the charm and looks of Rhaegar Targaryen," Marya then stopped, and stared at Stannis, "Those of Valyrian blood often associate themselves as higher than those without."

"I wish he'd spilt his blood with the Targaryen's then," Marya hissed, having barely kept herself from slapping the clearly drunken higher lord. Stannis let loose a loud burst of air from his nostrils, and his mouth was a straight line rather than his common frown.

'Did Lord Stannis just snort?' he asked himself, before shaking his head.

"I am certain that more than a few members of his own household agree with you my lady," he offered, "Again, I must offer my deepest," he stopped, as though looking for the correct word, "amends," he decided on, "Tis wrong to for you to be treated in such a manner," he then sighed, "And it was a failure of mine to stop it from occurring. You are both under my protection, and I failed," and suddenly, the young man looked the boy he was once more.

'No need for this Lord Stannis,' Davos thought as the came to a corner they would need to turn, 'We have dealt with so much worse in Fle-'

"It has been some time, has it not?"

Davos was brought from his thoughts by a voice that was like the sound of a rope snapping taught. Stannis stopped, and switched his head out, all the while holding his hand to hold both Davos and his wife back. For a moment, they stood there. Then, finally, Stannis waved his hand forward, and Davos and Marya both stuck their heads out from behind the column.

Standing in the middle of the hallway were three very familiar nobles. There were the Starks, shoulder to shoulder, with the babe's clothes held tightly in the Lady's arms. And then, across from them, was the father of the new queen, light from nearby torches dancing off his shaved bald head. His face held on it a small frown, an eyebrow raised above the rest of his face, and his hands held behind his back. Davos worried for a moment that they might be spotted from their hiding place, but with the way the torches were lit, he and his lord and wife were hidden in the shadows while the Lord Lannister and his daughter and goodson were illuminated by the torches next to them.

For a moment, Artoria held her breath in, before finally saying, "Yes," she stopped, yet Tywin made no sound, and there was a silence as she realized that everyone in that hall was staring at her. She took in a breath, then added, "Yes father, it has been some time."

"I had hoped that we might be able to speak together before this," Tywin was looking down at her, and the old lion did his best to almost lean forward, forcing his daughter to crane her neck to stare up at him, "Certainly, it would have been perhaps a more appropriate time those months ago when I presented the city to the king," Davos could almost hear an intake of breath from his wife, the memory of the sack still in her, "It would have been good to…clear the air on your behavior since your wedding then, rather than now, when so much has continued to occur."

Artoria, for her part, kept her lips tight. Tywin's face did not change in response to her silence, the large golden whiskers along the side of his face seeming to almost encircle his face, only failing to do so due to his shaved head. He wondered if the man had had the same face when he ordered the sack of the city.

"We," the silence was finally broken by Eddard, who seemed to cough, "Had much to see to." Yet neither of the father or daughter removed their eyes from the other, both refusing to back down, "There needed to find my sister," Eddard continued, pulling himself closer to Artoria, "There was no time for pleasantries."

"I hardly think that a discussion with the Warden of the West would be considered a pleasantry," Tywin continued, not even bothering to look at the Lord of the North.

"I think the Warden of the North would have a fair enough idea."

"Oh do you…twit?"

That made Davos's eyes widen. He looked over at Stannis, but was unable to see how he reacted in the shadows. He could see how the Starks moved. Eddard almost seemed to surge forward, before a small hand came up. Davos couldn't help but feel impressed at seeing Artoria actually hold out a hand to calm her husband while also holding the child with the rest of her arm. Eddard stopped, and continued to glare at his goodfather, before slowly backing away.

"One would think," Artoria continued, "That you would have come up with a better name to call me than twit," her words were completely flat, as though she was reading from a shipping manifest. And not a smuggling one, but a normal trade ship. Tywin barely seemed to respond, yet Artoria continued, "You have had half a year since you and I last spoke like this, I would have that while you sat sulking in Casterly Rock that you might have had time to come up with a new one."

"Do you think I have so much care about your little stunts," this time he looked back between the two, and Davos could imagine he was speaking just as much about the now rather legendary Escape from Casterly Rock as anything in the war, "That I would waste time when I could be considering far more vital things to House Lannister."

"Yet you care enough to ensure that you are here to see Jon and would not allow us to leave without dragging us out here so you may scold me like I am still that little girl who cowered beneath a mere word of your reprimand," Artoria's voice sounded older than her frame suggested. She could imagine the ice in her eyes was of her new home, "Now tell me why did you drag both of us out here. If you wanted to lord over me again, certainly you would prefer to have me alone."

"As your father," Tywin finally said, doing a quite good job to ignore his daughter's comment as though it was a gust of wind, "It is my duty to ensure your lord husband is behaving toward you as a Lannister is owed," he looked over at Eddard Stark, "Tell me Lord Stark," the more dark haired man did his best to recover from his shock at his wife's response, "Why did you find it…acceptable to take your wife out on matters such as this terrible war?"

"She asked to do so," Eddard said.

"Really," The older man raised a single, lean eyebrow, "And you are in the habit in allowing your wife to do as she pleases as long as she asks?" he raised his hand, and he began to flex and stretch his fingers as he looked at it, "Even if such a thing might only lead to more danger to you and to your family?"

"Tis her ch-"

"Tell me," Tywin's voice cut off Eddard's own, "Were your wife to ask to jump from the highest tower of the Red Keep, would you allow her, or would you have her locked in a tower under constant guard," he then looked down at swaddle of cloth in Artoria's arm, "Certainly I'd hope, if you had even the mildest suspicion of your wife carrying your son and heir, that you would better place the good of your family above the mere whims of your wife."

"I…," Eddard looked at Tywin for a moment, and then down at Jon. His eyes lost any sharpness they had had. Davos could only guess that Eddard had likely had thought the same thing himself, about the possibility of Artoria being killed in the fighting, and Ned losing both his son and his wife in the affair. However, a second later, he took in a breath, then reopened his cold gray eyes, and stared into the fading green of his goodfather, "I have, and always will, take it that my wife is not the kind to go mad. If she believed that she could fight, then I would trust her to fight. If she believed that she would be able to survive a fall from the tallest tower of this castle," he paused, and then looked down at his wife, who looked back at him, an eyebrow of her own raised, "Then I would believe that she must have learned how bounce off the ground."

Davos could imagine a smirk cutting into the girl's face, as she looked her husband in his eye. With a quick nod, she returned her gaze to her father, who seemed to be in the process of rolling his eyes into the back of his skull. Finally, with a sigh, he shook his head, and then said, "I think you mistake arrogance for knowledge, Lord Stark."

"I think you make the reverse."

"Well, that might be the first I have heard of you thinking," Tywin said, "All I can say, is that you are truly lucky that my grandson," he waved his hand toward the babe, "was not harmed by your foolishness," he glared at Eddard now, almost seeming to begin to ignore his daughter, "If you and my daughter had been just slightly less fortunate, then I dare say you might be facing what the Lord Hand and his wife are at this very moment," Eddard this time again nearly lunged forward. He then remembered that Eddard had been raised by Jon Arryn, who was likely the namesake of Stark's son, so the insinuation was attacking the closest man that Eddard Stark had left to a father.

"Do not dare to insult Lord Arryn," Eddard hissed, and Davos could not help but feel it was lucky for the realm that blades had not been allowed in the Keep for the festivities, "That man is twice the father you will ever be."

"I highly doubt that," Davos almost thought he saw Tywin's shoulders rock in a chuckle, "After all, you can see the fruits of my loins," he gestured toward Artoria, "While I take it you've never stuck your cock in the an Arryn cu-"

"Father," Artoria cut in, and Davos felt himself sigh away a breath of horror. It had appeared that Tywin had nearly said something that would have caused Eddard Stark to lunge at the Old Lion, "I must inform you that I am feeling rather ill," she made to turn away from her father, and Davos could see her face. It was bone white now, and her pupils had shrunk nearly to being the size of the tips of needles. She gripped Jon tightly in her arms, and began to advance almost like a puppet, not truly in charge of her own limbs. Davos could imagine, if she were moving as she was, that she must feel ill, "I believe we must retire if we are to take the ship in the morning to White Harbor."

"Ar-," Eddard turned to allow his eyes to follow his wife. And again Davos was frightened. Eddard's eyes were as thin as paper, his teeth were almost bared in rage. He knew that Eddard Stark had loved Jon Arryn, but for this much rage to come out was surprising. Yet as he watched his wife's retreating form, he took in another breath, and gave one last glare at Tywin, before making to follow his wife, "You are right, my lady."

'In the end,' Davos thought, 'Tywin managed to win. He caused the mighty Lord and Lady Stark to retreat, to think it not worth confronting him,' he wondered, as he saw several veins on the top of Tywin's bald head twitch, 'He could take this victory, as long as he does not demand that they supplicate to hi-"

"Certainly seems you have not grown from a shrieking little girl then," Tywin, of course, refused to falter, and continued to push against the retreating form of Artoria Stark, "All your behavior shows me is that you are nothing more than a spoiled child, thinking she knows more than the father that raised her," Eddard then walked up beside her, placing her arm around Artoria's shoulder, "You think portraying yourself as a virago makes them respect you?" he waved his hand to hall, where the crowd of nobles were still partying with the new king and his bride to be, "They all laugh. Laugh. For they see what you really are," still despite Tywin's words, the two continued to walk away at the same gait, "A fool who failed her family! You failed your father, your mother, your brothers and sister," Eddard almost seemed to turn back to glare at his goodfather, but was forced to keep moving by Artoria's pace, "And you will fail your children as well!"

Artoria came to a halt. Davos tried to get a look at the girl's face, but she was about to take a turn down one of the stairways, down toward the courtyard and an end of the night. He could see that her posture had straightened once more, and that she did her best to hold herself high. Then, with swift yet tender movement, she held out Jon. Eddard stopped glaring, and looked at the babe, before reaching out, and taking the child into his arms. Then, with her child secure in the hands of his father, she turned back to her father, and to the illumination of a nearby torch.

Utterly unmoved. Her mouth was straight, her eyes half open, her cheeks relaxed and hanging. She slowly began to walk back toward the Lord of Casterly Rock. As she advanced, Davos could swear that there was no sound in the whole of King's Landing besides that of her footsteps on the red stone of the keep. Not the nobles in the hall right next to them. Not the sounds of the sea lapping up against the hill the Keep sat on. The world came to hinge on this one girl, as she marched toward her father, he back held straight like a steel rod.

"What do you think to do now, Artoria," he asked, holding his hand out toward her, "Do you mean to shout at me, to declare me a fool who doesn't understand you?" Artoria maintained her advance without a change in gait, "Or do you mean to strike me, away here, where no one can see you?" Tywin seemed to almost open himself up, to allow for the girl to possibly strike him in the belly, "Maybe to even acknowledge the truth of my words?" Finally, Artoria stood in front of her father once more, and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "Well. What have you to say?"

Artoria just continued to look up at her father, his red and gold doublet across from her light blue. All the while, her calmness never wavered, while Tywin's eyebrows continued to raise, as though prepared to receive her response. Finally, she spoke.

"The gold of the Rock is certainly enough to own a mountain. One would think that it might be enough to blot the sun out."

She then turned away, and began to march back the way she came. At first, nothing happened. But then, Tywin's eyes went as wide as dinner saucers, and his jaw had fallen to reveal an open mouth. He almost instantly closed it, and glared after his daughter. He made to open his mouth, pointing at his daughter, but he stopped, mouth hanging open, as though his shout had suddenly died in his throat, his eyes growing wider. Davos could imagine from the rage over his features that he had a half hundred new insults on his mind, ones that made Twit and Virago mere trifles.

Yet Tywin refused to say another word, his eyes still wide, though his face was growing redder and redder every passing second. After a few moments, Davos could barely tell where the man's doublet ended and his skin began, as the fury of what she'd said was clearly flowing through him. Yet as he stood there, he could not bring himself to pursue his daughter.

As for Artoria, she slowly picked the babe from her husband's arms, did her best to adjust the swaddling clothes. Eddard looked at her, and she adjusted her head to look at him. He then nodded, and they turned, Artoria leading her husband toward the stairwell, and away from her father. For the next few moments, the only sound was that of the Lord and Lady Stark marching down the stairs, away from the Lord of Casterly Rock. Only after it was clear they were gone, and that he was alone again, did Tywin growl. He managed to hold back his roar, his almost limitless rage, but it was a near run thing. He then turned away from their hiding spot, and seemed to be heading towards another stairway.

'Mayhaps he wishes to cut them off,' he thought, before shaking his head, 'No, more like he wants to leave the event before he does something that might embarrass himself so that all may see it.'

"What was that?" Marya asked, and finally pulling Davos's attention to his wife, "It seemed as though they were about to come to blows, and yet now," she motioned towards the old lion, "Now she shut her father's mouth with but a few short words."

"I…I am not quite sure," Davos looked over to where Tywin had once stood, "I would think, however, her words were dangerous to her father…or perhaps they were meant to warn of dangerous words that might come later…"

"I suppose she showed her father then," Myra added, and Davos had to nod. This had already been a tiring night, and it had only been three or so hours. There was part of him that again wondered if becoming a knight was worth how draining the mere act of speaking would be from now on, with layers upon layers of meaning in each chosen word. Davos looked next to him, and he could see even in the darkness, Stannis proceeding to grind his teeth.

"I dare say that was quite the reunion," Davos offered, and Stannis, grinding his teeth, could only nod. Davos felt a strange surprise at the gesture, and asked, "Lord Stannis, I must ask, why are you angry?" the Storm Lord was nearly as tempestuous as he had been after first meeting Robert again, "I thought you did not have anything approaching affection for Lord Lannister. So why take offense on his behalf?"

"I do not take offense on his behalf," Stannis took a second to glare back at the Lannister's surrounding the king, in particular his glare squarely on the patriarch of the family, "I am angry that Lady Stark did not go farther."

"Why?" Marya asked, and Stannis again turned to her, before nodding at her.

"My Lady," he said, and Davos managed to just contain his smile at the blush that covered his wife after taking the title, "As one not so familiar with sigils, it is understandable what you missed," he then leaned forward, "Artoria Stark revealed she knows who murdered Princess Elia Martell," he leaned even closer to Davos and his wife, "She knows that Gregor Clegane did so, and the deed was under orders of her father."

"...wasn't that clear by everything?" Marya said. Stannis blinked, and looked at her, "It happened during the sack, and Gregor Clegane was seen riding through the streets toward the Red Keep," Davos felt the need to rub his temples at his wife again blowing past the rules and niceties of noble conversation, "Surely it was likely them."

Stannis stared at Marya a moment before his frown became a straight line, and he blew out a bit of air from his nostrils in what sounded almost like a snort. That his lord nearly laughed nearly caused Davos to miss Stannis saying, "My Lady, if we were to deal in the matter of physical detail, you would certainly be correct," he then stared around, "At the moment, however, there is no solidity to the accusation, and Tywin may cloak himself in false words and niceties," he pointed at Tywin, "As long as he is able to deny that he had a hand in it, Dorne cannot ask for retribution, and the Lannisters may pursue greater things without reprimand," his eyes then turned to the main hall, where Robert and Cersei and the rest all were, "Such as bringing forward a new queen for Robert Baratheon."

"...so Artoria threatened to say that for the whole court," and then Marya's own eyes widened, "And as the word of his daughter, that would be enough to-"

"To end the engagement barring proof of innocence," Stannis sighed, "If Tywin is under some kind of reproach, then everything he has ever wanted my be taken away," Stannis growled, "Yet instead of offering that justice, she would rather hang it over her father's head," he growled, "Even now, justice is denied."

'"You failed your family",' again rang through Davos's mind. While perhaps he might agree with his lord on the need for justice for Elia Martell, he almost couldn't help but think that Tywin was already facing a punishment. Now, the Old Lion knew that his greatest desire, the hope that his grandson would sit on the Iron Throne, for they had said it was what he wanted since he had been Aerys's Hand, was in danger from the words of the daughter he had just dismissed. And he knew that if he was to avoid allowing his dream to slip through his fingers, he would have to stand and stew while his daughter left the Red Keep victorious.

It wasn't justice for Elia Martell, not yet. Yet…it was a threat, one that was enough to quiet Casterly Rock's roar. One that would keep Tywin Lannister up for these next few weeks with no sleep, robbing him of the remaining anticipation of his triumph. Even after, there would be worries of what public declaration of the crime might lead to. In the back of his mind, Davos could imagine Tywin's eyes wide as he laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling until the rooster's cry.

For all of Tywin Lannister's crimes…it was a start.