Davos
"I see it! I see home!"
Davos looked up, and saw Jonos Storm pointing from among the rigging. The bastard had been given the role after the fighting on the dock and death of poor Brus Buckler. The young bastard had shown quickness in his hands and his wits, though the seas had been mostly calm on the journey. Certainly it had to be a calm sea to spot the great round drum of Storm's End this far out to sea. A run of good luck, it must be said.
'Though,' Davos thought idly, seeing a strange inky symbol cut into the young man's upper right arm, 'He may say that luck is nothing in comparison to the favor of the gods.'
One look to his side, and he saw on the bare back of another young man he saw the same symbol. A seven pointed star, with seven symbols replacing the points to show the seven parts of the one. A common enough tattoo among Andal sailors, certainly Davos had seen it enough during his time as a smuggler, and like many he'd considered one after surviving a particularly rough storm. Whether those who had one of those symbols tattooed into their bodies were doing so as thanks for their lives, or rather for a request for protection for coming trials, Davos could only guess from man to man.
Yet Davos had seen enough of those tattoos to know that there was something clearly strange with these fresh inkings. For the seven symbols at the end were not the same. THe closest was the Maiden, yet the composed and controlled rose had been replaced with another flower far more open in its bloom. The skull of the Stranger also remained, but now with four sharp spikes sticking out from the top of it. The lantern of the crown was gone, though a burning larger flame remained in its place. The sword replaced by a spear, the swaddling clothes with long flowing robes, the hammer with a burst of magic sparks.
Yet the most concerning of all was that in place of the Father Above All's scales, was a symbol that Davos had only seen a few times. The best way he could describe it was a pair of wings held within some kind of thin bowl. He'd seen it only on the hand of that strange boy Ritsuka that had walked alongside the Hound of Winterfell, and seeing it on one of his sailor's backs made something in the middle of Davos's belly turn.
'I don't know what is stranger,' Davos thought, turning away from the young man and towards his lord's rooms, "that that boy might be the Father,' he then could only shake his head at the inkling voice that was winning this debate, 'or that one of these boys was able to describe it so clearly that the inker could transcribe it on his back.'
He came up to the door, and knocked upon it. It opened quickly, and Davos met Andrew Estermont face to face, who gave him a tired simple, and said, "Good to see you Ser Seaworth," The young man was not so young anymore, lines now along his eyes that had not been there before, "I suppose we are almost home then."
"Yes," Davos answered, and Andrew gave a short nod.
"I see," He'd not gotten one of the inkings, his blood was too old for something that strange. Yet he had spent more time than any other at the Sept beyond the Sea, "that is good," he turned back to Stannis, who was sitting at his of Davos's sons were by his lord's side Devan standing at his side with all the seriousness the poor boy could manage, and Matthos sitting at the other end of the desk, his right hand holding a short pen over some smudged looking parchment, "Lord Baratheon, I-"
"You may visit the sept when we land," Stannis raised his hand, and Davos watched as Andrew nodded, his head, and then looked up once more, "Go make preparations to land, I will need all your duties finished before you go."
"Yes, your grace," Andrew bowed his head, and turned past Davos. Davos slid back, and watched the younger man pass.
"Devan, Matthos," Stannis said, and both of Davos's boys seemed to pop slightly at the mention of their names, "I have some matters to speak over with your father. Would you please get your things ready while we do so," Devan seemed to fidget a bit, but he nodded quickly. Matthos did not seem to have any concern, but his movements were slower, as he laid down his pen, and pushed up with his right hand. He almost raised his left arm to join it, but kept himself from placing the bandaged stump on the desk. They were both out of the room soon, though again Matthos took longer than he would have not a fortnight earlier.
"He's moving well," Davos said after Matthos closed the door behind him, "Nearly as good as I was after," he held up his own left hand, the stubs aching slightly, he then added, "And I say it was good he was young enough that when I became a knight I was able to have him learn how to read and write."
"He'll need to improve," Stannis held up Matthos's paper. Davos couldn't read, but he could see small blots that did not seem quite right to his eye, "Cressen only has a few more years left writing for me, and if Matthos is to take his place at Storm's End he will need to get to a place where his writing is clear."
Davos nearly opened his mouth to ask about that, but quickly closed it. Stannis had decided on that role for Matthos, and considering that Matthos would not be a captain of a ship anymore, it was what Matthos would do. It was better than Davos could have imagined for his third son when he'd first seen him in Flea Bottom. In some ways it was better than Davos had feared for his son during times on this trip.
"Tis good fortune he found that girl," Stannis added, "to believe she merely came along to nurse, him, and now he has a wife," the Lord of Storm's End seemed almost dazed at the mention of that, "Would never think you hear of such things but in stories."
"Yes, fortunate," Davos thought about how he was going to have to offer an explanation for why his son had slept and disgraced one of the Merling Queen's mermaids. The idea it was a girl who cared for him while losing his arm was more appropriate. Ereneaua was not what he expected in a gooddaughter, but she did seem to have real affection for his son despite his brokenness, so he could live with her, and he could make sure that his wife would too, "very fortunate."
Stannis nodded, and then stared down at Matthos's writing once more. The Lord of Storm's End frowned more deeply, his eyes moving from one side to the parchment to the other. Davos simply stood there, waiting for Stannis to speak up. The Steffon's Call groaned slightly as Stannis's eyes remained locked on the paper in front of him.
"Andrew seems to have been quite affected by this journey," Stannis finally said, and Davos let loose the breath he hadn't known he had been holding in.
"Well," Davos said a bit too quickly, "Yes, most of the boys are," he thought about how they were returning with many of the sailors who had first set sail with them as bones, "Most of them have never seen a man their age die, certainly many haven't seen a friend die."
"That was not what I meant."
"No," Davos sighed, "No, I think it is something else too."
"You can see it in those who saw it and those who did not," Stannis continued, "Your sons, both Devan in here and Matthos on the dock," as well as the other injured members of the crew that had been left behind to heal from their wounds, "They are," he stopped, trying to find the word, "They act like men who have fought their first battle," he shook his head, "Yet the men who went into the fog with us, and saw," again, there was silence, before he arrived at, "That," which was perhaps as much as Stannis could bring himself to say.
"The beast was immense," Davos still could not believe that a creature that size could ever exist. He had heard rumors of things that lived so far beneath the depths that could devour ships with one bite. He had long felt those were vapors of too much wine and too little sleep. He remembered the smell of the thing, like the death of a thousand different beasts of the sea, "To see something that lar-"
"I'm speaking about the "Seven"."
Davos flinched.
"It would not surprise me if Andrew Estermont were to go become a septon now," Stannis said, reaching up with his hand and rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I've heard him speak on what he saw for nearly the whole of this trip," he shook his head, "He has been debating the details of that group with anyone who is willing to go through it with him," he gave a look directly into Davos's eyes, "If I hear one more discussion of why it seems the "Father" chose to pursue the Crone over the mother, or why the Warrior has rejected wearing a full suit of armor, or why the Mother appeared younger than the maiden, I will throw all taking part into the sea with my bare hands."
"Ah," Davos could only offer. He had also heard these discussions, though only vaguely. Perhaps working out along the deck had meant the men were often concerned with their duties, so he had heard less of it. Here, working at a desk, would mean there was less work to keep the debates at bay. Still, he could only add, "Ser, you must admit, it was such a set of sights, that it is hard not to speak on it," Davos looked to the side, "I suppose it would be hard for men not to think that group divine, considering all that happened," he then made sure to add, "Even though they are not the Seven."
As Stannis stared at him, Davos could only consider the harsh exhaustion on his lord's face. Finally, Stannis sighed, before looking at the door. Stannis set his jaw, and Davos could hear grinding that seemed to almost shake the room.
"I am not totally sure you are correct," Davos blinked.
"Do you mean you think them not to be divine?"
"No," Stannis then stopped, clearly fighting with himself to get the next stream of words correct, "I mean that we were not walking with the Seven incarnate among the living," Stannis looked down at the desk, "Tis certainly as good a guess as anything I could come for our survival. Seven mighty beings arrive, and they galavant all the way across Essoss, only to arrive at the moment when Braavos most needed help to survive."
"Lord Baratheon," Davos stated in surprise, "I would not have thought that you would even consider such fanciful thinking," Stannis merely grunted, "You are," he paused looking for the most proper way to say why he considered Stannis's statement so out of character, "You are a man who does not go to the Septs even on the Feast Days. How could you think that this troupe somehow contains all seven aspects of the Seven."
"Tis the simplest explanation I can think of," Stannis added, "It makes sense to me now. Cu has always been among the strongest men ever seen seen in battle. And that boy, RItsuka I believe," Davos nodded, "That boy knew as much about the handling of money as any Maester I had ever seen, and was able to command the Hound of Winterfell like a mere dog," he reached up, and began to rub his temples, "Gods, not to mention what the Stranger pulled off with that sword."
The sword of the titan had dissipated into the waves, taking the body of the creature down with it. Steffon's Call would be covered with the horrid smelling remains of the beast that had fallen upon. That had been the only testament to the battle they had just won, besides the body of Euron Greyjoy. As far as most in Braavos had been concerned, Euron had done something foolish that had damaged the Titan, it did not work, and Stannis had been the hero to deliver them Euron's mangled body.
"Yes, the mother would not normally throw her hands about like she did," Stannis continued, "Yet she had the calming presence, and the crone was too young but held flame to light the way," the frown just got deeper and deeper into Stannis's face, "The Seven appeared in front of me, and I saw them attempt wonders that no man has seen them do since before the Andal fled across the Narrow Seas."
"That," Davos did not wish to say something out of step, but he did not know what would be, "That is certainly something to have seen."
"As I sit here, thinking on it," Stannis brought his hands together, and Davos could see veins pop up along them, "I cannot help but ask, why is it only now that they appear, and in front of me," he gave a look at Davos, "I have not prayed to the gods since my father and mother drowned in these waters," Davos had heard of the story, though Stannis had only ever told him it in pieces, like a ship he had to assemble on his own ,"Yet now, they appear to me now."
Davos watched as Stannis continued to grip into his hands, and Davos almost wished that his lord would grind his teeth instead.
"Now, they appear," Stannis shook his head, "Not to my father, a man who believed in them more than I ever have. For some reason, they chose to save me, when they did not save him," he then stopped, looking down at the desk, "Or, they chose to appear now, and defeat that…that thing," Davos could only nod at the name for the creature, "And I merely am just a man who benefits from their whims."
Davos considered that. True, Ritsuka and Cu and the others had interacted with their crew more than he ever thought. Yet they had disappeared almost as soon as they could after resting for a while. It was certainly likely that they had only been there to stop the "Drowned God" as it were. Several of the men had been on guard to make sure no pirate came for revenge, but in only a few days the whole group had faded away.
"So," Davos was pulled from his musing, "I ask myself, what am I," he paused, and Davos could see Stannis visibly try and pull out the correct word, "What was my father," he stopped, "Are we, just playthings at best for the gods?" Davos could almost think he saw his lord's eyes shine strangely, "Are we just mere pawns in the games of the divine?"
"Lord Baratheon," Davos said that quickly, if only to pull Stannis from what seemed to be a whirlpool of his own thoughts. As Stannis stared at him intently, Davos tried his best to offer up a good answer, "If we are so small to the divine, we should hope we remain too small for them to consider us worth playing with. We should go about our lives as before, pray for the sun and the rain and for the health of our children, and also pray that we are left in peace," Davos paused, "And that should we come privy to their games, that we find ourselves played with by gods tending to mercy rather than cruel nature."
Stannis held his mouth shut for a moment, before finally nodding, his eyes slowly seeming to return to as they were. He then stood up from his desk, while nodding, and then saying, "Yes, you are right," Davos did his best to push down the smirk that wanted to crawl on his face, "I suppose, seeing what god I could have been given, fate granting me the Seven is a mercy I should be grateful for," he then walked over to Davos, patting him on the shoulder, and said, "Let us go out. We should be making land soon."
"Matthos is with your wife now, yes?"
Davos had dropped off both his boys with Marya. Their small little keep near the shore was nothing special for a lord, but for a man from Fleabottom, it was everything he could have ever hoped for. He'd managed to warn his wife about what had happened to their third son, all of it, so there had been no great panic. But he'd been able to see the fear on his wife's face, both at the arm and the girl.
"He is," still, Eranaua had seemed amenable enough, and her devotion to Matthos had been enough to get them moving, "He shall rest for a few days, and then he will begin practicing his writing."
"He'll be called up once he feels rested," Stannis said, as they finally came through the great portcullis of Storm End's curtain wall, joined by a few of the remaining young nobles who had not gone off on their own as soon as they made land, "Cressen may be old, but he should still be able to teach that boy of yours the way my letters shall have to be."
"As long as Maester Cressen finds it proper," Davos did not wish to do something to offend the old man. Cressen had always been friendly to him, far friendlier than most, but Davos knew that Stannis not taking on a new Maester for his letters might be something that would cause the old man a whole sack of consternation.
"He will," Stannis said, though Davos did not here an order in that, but rather a confident belief in the old man. They came into the open courtyard of the castle, and Davos saw, right in front of the door to the great drum tower that towered over the rest of the castle, the face of that Maester, "I shall speak to him as so-"
"Lord Stannis Baratheon," Cressen announced, his voice shaking but still firm enough to be heard across the yard, "It is a blessing of the Seven," Davos saw Stannis twitch, "That you have returned to us," then, as Davos was allowed to see Cressen more closely, he saw the old man give a look of study toward them, "Certainly, if even some of the rumors are true of what you have lived through during your travels."
"We shall discuss those later," Stannis said. The yard was only half filled, but considering its size, that was still a large number of people. Alongside the six or so young men around them, there was nearly the whole of Storm's End's men at arms, servants and small folk of all stripes, and several other noblemen, many looking as though they were here to make some sort of request of the castle's lord. All of them were staring at Stannis with a slight unease that had not been there before, "No need to dwell on things we cannot change at present."
"Of course," and Davos could see the vaguest hint of a smile now on the Maester, "Though, we should dwell on what we can change," Stannis blinked, when suddenly, the door to the Drum Tower opened, and a group of five strode out.
They were four and one. Or rather, three, one and one. First were Stannis's three daughters. Jocelyn, the eldest, tallest, and blackest of hair, bowed her head respectfully to her father. Cassana, the second of his daughters, now just past her thirteenth name day, was nearly as tall, and, even at this young age, clearly the beauty of the family with her waving dark hair, something she knew, and used to cover behavior that Davos had once compared to his eldest brother. Though her wild wave towards her father seemed to cause Stannis's frown to lighten slightly. Then there was the last among the girls, the youngest daughter and child, nearly seven, little Shireen. Slighter than the other daughters, but sweet in a way that Jocelyn had to act and that Cassana could never manage. She, like Jodelyn, held her pose, though she did seem to waver slightly from it, the poor girl always having a slight problem with her health. Really, all of them were near exactly what they had been taught.
Though none stood as straight as Steffon. Tall for a boy halfway into his tenth year, Davos could tell he had gotten his height from his father. That was but one thing Stannis had given him. His hair, as with Stannis's three daughters, was black. His eyes blue. His body broad. Only his face seemed not to come from the blood of the Baratheon, instead, he had a face quite similar to the woman standing next to him.
She had long red hair, clear streaks of it deeper in color than the rest, or what it had been when Davos had first laid eyes on her. She had gained some fat along her cheeks, but nothing more than what his Marya had at that age, a healthy, motherly look. Her eyes still had some of the sadness from when he'd first seen her, but they no longer darted as they had before. Instead, they looked at Stannis with, if not love, comfort.
"It is good to see you again my lord," Lysa Baratheon bowed her head, and the children all did the same, "It has been a long time since we saw you set off, and it is a blessing to have you back here with us."
Davos watched as Stannis brought his horse to a stop, right at the bottom of the stairs his family was standing above him on. He, stiffly, made moved himself from his charger, and held himself up high as he stared up at his family. Both he and his children stared at one another, their bodies straight and their movements held to the least they could manage. Davos couldn't see his lord's face, though he could guess the man was clenching his jaw together tightly, keeping himself the very image of lordly fortitude. He flicked his eyes up, and saw the discomfort at the very edge of Stannis's children, even as they, like their father, held their surface cool.
It was also why, as Davos watched a man even taller than Stannis, with coal black hair that had remained where the Lord of Storm's End had long fallen out, creep up behind Stannis, he did not give his lord any warning.
"It is good to see yo-"
"Brother!" The calm was broken as Renly, tall and spirited as always, nearly tackled his elder brother from the side. It was something for any man to nearly knock Stannis over, even catching him by surprise, but Renly was certainly the man to do it, as Davos watched Stannis's feet come out from under him. The lord was only kept from falling on his face by Renly himself, who seemed to almost catch his elder brother, and help him stand back up, "It is wonderful to see you again. I do hope the sea hasn't managed to ruin your good humor."
"Ren-," Stannis could hear Stannis's molars begin to be ground to dust. Stannis glared at his younger brother, who only twisted his head slightly to the side in clear amusement at his brother's anger, "This is," he pointed up at his family, "The proper way-", Davos looked up at the family. The worry in them had almost completely disappeared, with their shoulders all loosening, and all the girls now having smiles of some kind on their faces. Only Steffon still kept his face the same, though it was now a matter of pride in the boy, from the way he almost seemed to hold his chin up higher, all the while his father sputtered, "You cannot just tackle the Lord of Storm's End."
"I can tackle my brother," Renly declared, all the while the men at arms and the rest of the castle staff seemed to be either look on the scene with humor or exhaustion, "And as Lord of Summerhall," he placed his hand on his chest, right above the sigil of a stag's head with the sun above it, lines serving as both rays and antlers, "I claim the right to embrace my brother when he is clenched up in himself."
"I am not clenched up in myself," Stannis snapped back, and Davos could see that, as the words came out, he was not. Or rather, he was not clenched up in himself anymore. Stannis looked over at Davos, and pleaded with his eyes for some kind of assurance.
"Of course not, Lord," Davos carefully swung his leg over, and gently let his leg hit the stone of the courtyard. He still was not a great horseman, he probably would never trust riding something with a mind of its own, but he'd grown enough to not embarrass himself, "You have been remarkably unclenched this trip, considering all we went through," Davos did not say anything further, he knew Stannis did not wish to go into detail about what had happened until they were alone with those he trusted. Not even Jon Arryn had received the full story in the Raven they'd sent. Still, he needed to add a bit more, "Why, Stannis laughed aloud during our time in Braavos."
"Really," Renly's eyes widened, and Davos watched as Stannis let out an audible groan, "That's how many times you've seen him laugh?"
"Six," Davos snapped out, and he could see that Stannis was beginning to look just a bit uncomfortable, "Though, I'm certain you've seen it more than I have."
"I've seen him laugh eight times," Renly said, forcing the Lord of Storm's End's glare back on himself, "I've known him longer though, so-"
"Renly."
"I believe I've seen him laugh eleven times," Cressen added, and Stannis turned so fast he rivaled a whirlpool, "He was not a very happy child, yet there were ways-"
"Could you all please-"
"Thirteen," they all stopped, and looked over at Lysa, who maintained her perfectly proper posture. She slid her eyes to them all, then added, "I've had more opportunities than you all from my place as his wife."
Davos looked and saw Stannis's face become a shade of light red. Mostly, he sighed, stopped, coughed, and then said aloud, "It seems to me, that our public greeting has been completed. Proper manners have been shown, and it would be best for the rest to happen inside," he seemed to shake his head, "You never know when it might begin to storm."
It was a clear day, but they all did as Stannis suggested. The crowd went through the great doors of the Drum tower, first Stannis and his wife, then his children, then Renly, followed at the end by Cressen and Davos himself, with the rest of the guard staying behind. Behind him, Davos heard the door close, and then watched as the final iron in Stannis's posture melted away.
"Father!" Shireen, youngest and most delicate, rushed over to Stannis's side, and wrapped her arm around his leg, "It's been so long father!" she stared up excitedly at Stannis, whose frown had disappeared, "I missed you!"
"I missed you as well," Stannis reached down, and held his youngest in his arms while he squatted at his knees, "You seem well, I suppose your stomach is better now."
"Yes father," she smiled, "Maester Cressen gave me some medicine and its been much better," she then stopped, "I've been reading up on it, and I've been helping Maester Cressen in the gardens."
"Really now," Stannis gave a look over at Cressen, "I hope you haven't been working him too much. He's an old man, so you cannot make him run too much!"
"Oh, Father," Cassana spoke up, taking her place in the center of the conversation, "You know it's good for the old man to run around with Shireen," Cressen gave a wince at that. She was the girl who most took after Stannis in word, though least in his bearing, "Why, I think we are all better when we are rushing back and forth. Keeps the years from sliding o-ow!"
"Behave yourself Cassana," Jocelyn had slapped the back of her younger sister's head. She then looked towards Stannis, and bowed her head, "Lord Father, as always, it is good to see you in good health," Cassana rolled her eyes while rubbing the back of her head, and Davos sighed.
'Thank the gods I never had any daughters,' he thought. His boys could come to blows, but Stannis's eldest girls had a way about them that could turn into storms that rivaled Stannis and the king. And of course, his Lord was often in the middle, and had found himself completely unable to calm them, 'I'd never survive them all.'
"Father," Steffom remained as still as possible, "It is good to see you," he was the only one trying to maintain his manner. A second after that, however, Stannis opened his arm out, and Steffon ran as quick as his feet could carry him into Stannis's open arm, "I missed you so much father," and then Stannis, pushing himself up, carried both Steffon into the air along with his younger sister.
"I missed you as well Steffon," he then looked around, "I missed all of you," he then stopped at Renly, who gave a wave, "Most of you."
"Oh," Renly placed his hand up to his forehead and leaned back, holding his chest as though he'd been stabbed, "Brother, why must you wound me so," he then placed his head forward, "Do you not know how difficult it is to come from Dragonstone so I am able to welcome you home from your difficult journ-"
"You come because it is the fastest way to Summerhall," Stannis said flatly. Renly stopped, and glared at Stannis. Stannis, on the other hand, had the faintest outline of a smirk on his face, which was enough for Renly to shake his head. Stannis, having offered what he needed to his brother, then looked around his children, "Now, let us go to the parlor. I would like to hear how your time here has been, and I shall tell you how my trip was," he then looked up at Lysa, "I shall then join your mother, Maester Cressen and Renly later tonight to discuss some other matters."
Lysa looked at Renly, who looked back, and nodded. That was a signal for important matters to be saved for later, likely when the children had been sent off to bed. Stannis was the sort of man who only trusted so many, so this would be a meeting he would have with only his family or those close enough to-
"And Ser Seaworth as well," Stannis added. Davos looked up quickly at Stannis, who then added, "He might remember things that I might not, my mind can only hold so much," Davos nodded, realizing it was so he could confirm for Stannis on exactly how strange their time in Braavos had become, "certainly when I need to have some of it filled with how you all were doing."
"We were doing very well father," Shireen spoke up, before clasping her hands together, "Father, you won't believe it," the look in her eye was almost like the look several of the members of the crew had had when meeting with members of "The Seven", "Patches is talking so much better."
"...what?"
"I cannot believe it," Stannis said.
It was late at night, at least three hours since the sun went down. Jocelyn had gone to bed only a little bit ago, but that meant that there was nothing else to keep Stannis from having his meeting. Now, in Storm End's Solar, he sat at the front of the room, a small fire to his side. The rest were also there, and the revelry had been sent to bed with the children. All were looking serious.
"There is a sense to it," Cressen added, "Patches, poor Patches was found half drowned by the sea," Stannis flinched at the mention of that, considering that Patches had been the only survivor of the storm that killed his father, "yet only a little over a fortnight ago, he woke up with what seemed half his wits restored to him," Cressen looked down, "He…he still only seems to remember what has happened since he has regained them, yet considering what you described, it may be best for him that he has no memory of such a creature."
"He has been doing his best with all the children," Lysa admitted, a bit paler than usual, but still composed. She looked at Stannis, "Mayhaps it would still be best to keep an eye on him, just so he does not bring up any of those horrors of the deep to them."
"Yes," Stannis nodded, "That might be for the best," he looked over at the books along his solar, "Maybe a bit of time on books and songs, just so we are sure there is nothing too dangerous in him still," he then shook his head, "Though, considering what darkness he must have seen, I cannot say I am glad he spent so much time with all of them already while still mayhaps under that thing's influence," he shuddered, "certainly, poor Shireen's health cannot have been helped with so much focus on so many dark things."
"He's been well enough brother," Renly's words did at least seem to calm Stannis a small amount, "I mean, you and I spent years with Patches when we were children as well, I don't see how it could have been more dangerous for your children than for us," he sighed, "Though, in all honesty, to me, it seems as though we have far greater concerns than Patches and his regained wits," he looked over at Stannis, "I am far more worried about you Stannis."
"And why is that?" Davos could see that outside of the outer shell of shock, Stannis was not actually surprised to hear Renly speak up. He looked at the younger Baratheon, and could see the concern was honest.
"Brother, you aren't a mad man, but what you are saying you saw is madness," Stannis actually nodded his head, which caused Renly to sigh, "Of course, you are being mad in the least mad way a man could. And the most you way you could," Stannis almost snorted at that, but he kept Davos's seventh laugh from entering the air, "You are describing magics out of story books," Renly paused, "Or out of dark legends from the Age of Heroes."
"It is strange," Lysa admitted, she reached over from her side, and placed her hand on Stannis's, "To hear you speak with such conviction about these people being the Seven," she paused, "You are not a man who I would expect to ever accept anything magical at all, let alone claim to have met the divine."
"I saw this as well," Davos added, before continuing, "And if you need, there are over two dozen young men all over the Storm Lands now he have seen the same thing. Andrew Estermont alone should be enou-"
"We believe you," Cressen raised his hands in a calming manner, "We know you two would not lie, certainly not about such a thing as this," Cressen leaned back into his chair, before reaching out, grabbing a poker, and playing with the remaining charcoal in the hearth, "Gods, though, I would say I would prefer it if you were lying," he shook his head, his wispy beard swaying along his face, "such things are not ones I am comfortable being in the world."
"Have you let Robert know," Renly asked. Stannis rolled his eyes, and then Renly snapped, "Come now Stannis," he waved his hand about, "Robert is the King. If you know the Seven are real and that there are dark gods among the deep waters, you shou-"
"He wouldn't believe me," Stannis snapped back, "He would call me a coward for fearing fairy stories, and then dismiss me while he goes off to the bed of hi-"
"Stannis," Renly said, though it was in exhaustion more than anger. Renly was not a man to deny reality, even about his brother, "You should have sent him a raven with as much as you have of what you have seen, and had him read it."
"I did send him a raven," Stannis stated firmly. For a moment, the other three looked at him, "Or, well, I've sent it to Jon Arryn," the other three continued to stare, as Davos just took in what it was like for others to be the ones pulling Stannis along. He enjoyed it from a distance, as he was still not sure where he would stand if trying to offer this sort of advice, "I sent him the official story as well as the initial treaty I was able to get with Braavos."
"Ah, even if you didn't speak on those strange happenings, I suppose telling the Lord Hand what you accomplished is still a duty completed," Cressen rubbed his beard, "What were the terms you managed by the way. Even without the whole story of the dying gods, saving Braavos must have gotten the Iron Throne something of worth."
"It did," Stannis nodded his head, "A few things. Firstly, Braavos has sworn off ever using pirates in any kind of task for a century, and has sworn eternal friendship with the Iron Throne," the others looked at him, "Beyond that, I managed to secure a complete end of all tariffs of merchants and traders from the Seven Kingdoms in Braavosi territory, and the protection of our ships by Braavosi fleets," that caused the group to nod, "Though, in return, we have agreed to spend the next ten years not minting any new coins."
"Are you sure that is the correct move," Renly asked, and Stannis eyed him, "I believe I understand the concept, yet, giving up our right to mint coins," he looked at Stannis, "I can tell you Robert will want to knock your head in. He certainly will not be happy with you telling him he cannot mint his way into more feasts and tourneys."
"He'll have to," Stannis added, before smiling, "Though, I'm offering him something to help distract him from his lack of festivals," Davos could only nod, knowing what he knew of the King.
"A new whore," Lysa sniped, and Stannis smirked at the suggestion. Stannis's wife had proven willing to conform herself to her husband on many matters, and a deep seated scorn for his brother was something she had taken to like a duck to the water. He had, in turn, taken to her distaste for her sister with similar sureness. Their shared hatreds providing another anchor to their strangely strong marriage.
"No," Stannis finally said, "A much better deal," he then got out of his chair, and walked over to one of the dressers, and opened it. He stuck his head inside, and the, a moment later, pulled out a long piece of parchment. He then came to his desk, and opened the thing wide, while motioning for everyone to follow him to the desk. Davos nodded as he watched the other three come around the desk first, all looking over the page. Davos knew what he was about to see, and while there was worry in him, he knew the image of the south-western tip of Essos, "They have offered us an alliance to take the Disputed Lands for the Iron Throne."
"An invasion," Cressen's voice seemed to catch in his throat, "Across the Stepstones?" he looked at Stannis, who nodded, "Why, how-"
"It will serve both the Iron Throne and Braavos," Stannis continued, "For Braavos, they may still have their fleets, but it shall take time to repair the arsenal so they may produce new ships," not to mention the problem of cost of fixing ships, though there were enough skilled craftsmen that Braavos could at least repair their old ones until the Arsenal was rebuilt, "They are worried that the Sisters might attempt to take Pentos and destroy Braavos at the first opportunity," he then placed his hand on Tyrosh, "But, should an army of knights arrive and take Tyrosh. Well, then the chance of either Myr or Lys attempting to take on Braavos before they can repair themselves are quite unlikely. And of course, it shall mean the destruction of three slaver cities that have long been an enemy of the Braavosi."
"Not just the Sisters," Davos added, though he had to push past an ill feeling in his stomach, "But Volantis is now in deep danger, from having to have most of its fleet in Slaver's Bay to try and fight off the consolidation of the whole place under New Ghis, to keeping some more soldiers on alert after the destruction of their great walls. They will be unable to spare enough to come to the three Sisters aid," vaguely, as Davos considered the stories of Volantis, he almost became sure that the "Seven" must have had something to do with that too.
"And for the Iron Throne," Stannis continued, "It would be the first territorial gain since Dorne was brought into the fold, with the added bonus of the destruction of slavers," he nodded, "A fine proof that we Baratheon are more than the Targareyans," he then looked around, "Certainly, this is perhaps the best chance we will have, with Braavos providing naval support and logistics," he then stopped, before finishing with, "And, best to Robert I'm sure, he will be allowed to go and show the world why they once feared the Demon of the Trident."
'All fine reasons for the throne,' Davos thought, 'Though, for the small folk, I am not so sure,' he looked at the nods the others had, and had to keep his sigh down, 'What gods are to men, nobles are to the common.'
"All well," Renly said, "You sent this to Robert?"
"To Jon Arryn," Stannis stated clearly, "He is the man who I trust to get this all across to Robert in a manner so we do not reveal our plan and give time for our enemies to gather and prepare," he looked to the window, and sighed, "I had hoped to find a raven here with news, but my mail does take time to reach the Lord Hand."
"What army would you be taking?" Cressen's voice did show some concern, though whether for the cost of the campaign or from the ability to succeed, Davos could not say, "I doubt just the gold cloaks could manage something. And calling the Lord Paramount's to raise their banners would only provide the warning we are seeking to avoid.
"That, is why it is truly lucky that Renly is here," Renly blinked at Stannis's words, "We were hoping that as a man who sits at the border of the Stormlands and the Reach might be able to…build friendships with our neighbors to the west," Davos could hear the bile rise up in the back of Stannis's throat, "Say, a small army some ten thousand strong of well armored Reach knights and Stormlands men at arms, to be met in an initial invasion with five thousand crownlanders and five thousand Braavosi marines to take the Tyrosh, and break the chance of the sisters uniting," he paused, "Thus, we will have already won a great victory before they know the war is upon them, while we can call our banners and have more men pouring into the Dispute Lands with a clear starting port."
"So," Renly said, "You want me to be the one to lead this new army," he smiled, "Why, I must thank you for the confidence you are showing in my natural ability."
"I want you to train the men of that army, and to build upon your," Stannis stopped, trying to find the right word, "friendship with the Lord Paramounts of the Reach," he gave Renly a stern look, "Those…disagreements between you and I over the last year or so are likely well known, so you sitting in Summerhall with slightly larger numbers of swords and spears will not hopefully not alert the Sisters to the danger."
"Ha," Renly threw his head back, "Oh, see Stannis," he looked his brother directly in the eye, "I told you before, and I'll tell you again. Being friends with the Tyrells is nothing to twist yourself into knots over."
Stannis breathed in heavily through his nose, "Renly, you are your brother and I love you," this had been something they had talked on many times, but it would always need to be said, "I understand you are not like most men, and I will always love you, and hope for the best for you," he then sighed, "But why, in the name of the Seven who now appear real as the stone under my feet, why did you have to fall in love with a Tyrell?"
"Well," Renly replied, smile there, but cut into his face a bit harsher, "I could always go back and see Se-"
"Enough," Stannis sighed. That was a discussion they had had before, and Renly always knew how to end it. Stannis looked back down, "I can show you a few more things before you all have to head to sleep for the night."
And so, for about an hour more, they five of them stayed up looking at the map. They would then discuss more of the details of the invasion, the routes planned, the ships to be used, and even the best beaches to land at for Tyrosh. Then, they spent an hour on other things that had been happening around the Seven Kingdoms. Cressen and Lysa focused, as they were to do, on Storm's End and its surrounding lands. Renly on what happened in King's Landing and Summerhall.
After that second hour, everyone seemed exhausted, and Davos had to agree. It had been hours of travel, and he wanted to lay down. He had seen enough this last month for a whole lifetime, and he could use some more sleep if he was to go on to these many new things he would be forced to do.
And yet…
The flapping of wings cut off the final goodbyes. Stannis looked over his shoulder, and Davos could see a smirk appear as a Raven landed right at the window of his room. He then marched to the window, reached down, and untied the little message from around the bird's claw. Davos watched as Stannis's body suddenly became straight as wood, and he could feel a tension rise from his lord.
"Did," he began to ask, as everyone in the rooms looked at Stannis's shocked form, "Did Jon Arryn reject the offer?"
"Jon Arryn is dead."