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Title: Ways and means
Davos moved along the wooden gangway encircling the main yard as he approached the King's quarters. He pulled his cloak tight around him to keep out the worst of the unfamiliar and biting chill. The snow continued to fall around Castle Black, filling the yard, but no sooner had the gentle white flakes fallen then they were ploughed into a filthy slush by the movements of heavy feet.
He knocked before entering the King's chamber, finding his Grace mulling by the windows, hands clasped tightly behind his slender back.
Stannis was a man of few moods, all of them grim and uninspiring. Even before the war he'd been a thoroughly dour character, having none of the joie de vivre of his younger brothers. Even if he managed to take the throne that rightly belonged to him, Davos couldn't envisage him ever being happy. He might rule fairly and justly, but he would not be loved.
Davos had not noticed Melissandre in the room until he took a long look around the darkened chamber. Her presence was usually remarkable, dressed in long gowns of deepest red and with that blood red jewel in its spider web clasp at her neck. She was rarely absent from the King's side, whispering the words of her God in his ears. Now she sat almost invisibly in the corner, gazing only disinterestedly at the glowing hearth. Her presence always made him feel on edge. Who knew whether what she spoke of from her visions in the fire were truly some message from her strange god or simply what she willed to happen for her machinations. Davos didn't trust anything he couldn't see with his own two eyes. Now however, she appeared diminished somehow.
'Your Grace?' Davos said, announcing his entrance, though the King had summoned him for reasons as yet unknown.
Stannis didn't even turn to look at his Hand. 'Send word to the men that were to leave here two days hence.'
The command came without preamble or reasoning. After months of being crammed into the less than comfortable accommodations provided by the Night's Watch, it came as a complete surprise to hear that they should leave now. This was the only place between the Wall and Dragonstone that was both welcoming and safe. They meant to rally the north before attempting to retake the throne from the usurpers. So far, that hadn't happened. With what small army they had, they could scarcely take on Winterfell, let alone press their claim further south towards the capital.
Davos turned and fixed his gaze on Melissandre. 'Is this what your fire God told you? That we should go south undermanned?'
Her look was almost apologetic. 'The Lord shows me only what he wishes us to see.' It was as much an admission as Davos was going to get that this was Stannis' decision alone. If anything, it appeared that perhaps she'd tried to dissuade him, though for what reasons she wouldn't say.
'We have one chance to take the castle,' Davos said, directing the statement at the red woman so that it didn't sound like direct defiance. 'One chance. Else they'll force us to lay siege until there's not a man left dying starving in the snow.' Just this once he implored her to persuade her King that it was a fool's errand to leave now, instead of filling his head with promises of power and glory.
'We can't stay here forever,' Stannis reminded him, rebuking the comment. 'I'll not have the Lannisters sit there on the throne and mock me whilst we tarry up here with a bunch of thieves and bastard boys. We'll as likely starve and die up here if we stay, snowed in with no path south.'
'The other northern houses haven't yet replied to our call to banners,' Davos said, beseeching him to see sense. They may have felt a loyalty to Roose Bolton but they surely felt little love for his bastard son who now ruled in his place. He'd done nothing to earn any glory, and was rumoured to be all that his family's sigil represented - a man prepared to flay his enemies living. Tales of Roose's murder were laced with suspicion that his own son had done the deed, as disloyal and duplicitous as his father.
'They've had long enough to consider our offer and come to their senses,' Stannis replied, harsh and unyielding.
'At least petition the Karstarks and the Umbers again,' Davos implored. Their numbers alone would swell the ranks more than all the other houses combined. Without those two houses aligned to house Bolton others might follow.
'It will take weeks to receive word,' Melissandre said, rejoining the argument. 'Winter will only grow worse the longer we wait. We must strike south and take Winterfell before it does.' She had changed her tune and Davos wondered why. What else was there to fear in heading south but for defeat?
'Have you tried speaking to the Lord Commander again?' A plea from Jon Snow could be enough to tip the other houses into abandoning their current allegiances.
Stannis snorted in derision. 'The boy is as stubborn as his father. I offered to remake him into a trueborn Stark and he refused. The Night's Watch will not help us.'
Davos' heart sank. A Stark in the north allied to Stannis would have made all the difference. He sighed. He knew this wasn't an argument he could win. He didn't have to show loyalty to Melissandre - though it could cost him his life not to - but he was loyal to his King. 'I guess that’s that, then. I'll arrange a party of loyal men to remain here at Castle Black with the Queen and princess Shireen.'
'They come with us.' Stannis' words were blunt and Davos' gaze went immediately to the red woman who nodded in agreement. Davos chewed the inside of his lip as he glared back at her. What dangerous game are you playing? he wondered.
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters: Davos, Stannis, Melissandre
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG.
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 123 - Snowed in at
fandomweekly
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Summary: Davos is suspicious of the sudden need to push south.
Davos moved along the wooden gangway encircling the main yard as he approached the King's quarters. He pulled his cloak tight around him to keep out the worst of the unfamiliar and biting chill. The snow continued to fall around Castle Black, filling the yard, but no sooner had the gentle white flakes fallen then they were ploughed into a filthy slush by the movements of heavy feet.
He knocked before entering the King's chamber, finding his Grace mulling by the windows, hands clasped tightly behind his slender back.
Stannis was a man of few moods, all of them grim and uninspiring. Even before the war he'd been a thoroughly dour character, having none of the joie de vivre of his younger brothers. Even if he managed to take the throne that rightly belonged to him, Davos couldn't envisage him ever being happy. He might rule fairly and justly, but he would not be loved.
Davos had not noticed Melissandre in the room until he took a long look around the darkened chamber. Her presence was usually remarkable, dressed in long gowns of deepest red and with that blood red jewel in its spider web clasp at her neck. She was rarely absent from the King's side, whispering the words of her God in his ears. Now she sat almost invisibly in the corner, gazing only disinterestedly at the glowing hearth. Her presence always made him feel on edge. Who knew whether what she spoke of from her visions in the fire were truly some message from her strange god or simply what she willed to happen for her machinations. Davos didn't trust anything he couldn't see with his own two eyes. Now however, she appeared diminished somehow.
'Your Grace?' Davos said, announcing his entrance, though the King had summoned him for reasons as yet unknown.
Stannis didn't even turn to look at his Hand. 'Send word to the men that were to leave here two days hence.'
The command came without preamble or reasoning. After months of being crammed into the less than comfortable accommodations provided by the Night's Watch, it came as a complete surprise to hear that they should leave now. This was the only place between the Wall and Dragonstone that was both welcoming and safe. They meant to rally the north before attempting to retake the throne from the usurpers. So far, that hadn't happened. With what small army they had, they could scarcely take on Winterfell, let alone press their claim further south towards the capital.
Davos turned and fixed his gaze on Melissandre. 'Is this what your fire God told you? That we should go south undermanned?'
Her look was almost apologetic. 'The Lord shows me only what he wishes us to see.' It was as much an admission as Davos was going to get that this was Stannis' decision alone. If anything, it appeared that perhaps she'd tried to dissuade him, though for what reasons she wouldn't say.
'We have one chance to take the castle,' Davos said, directing the statement at the red woman so that it didn't sound like direct defiance. 'One chance. Else they'll force us to lay siege until there's not a man left dying starving in the snow.' Just this once he implored her to persuade her King that it was a fool's errand to leave now, instead of filling his head with promises of power and glory.
'We can't stay here forever,' Stannis reminded him, rebuking the comment. 'I'll not have the Lannisters sit there on the throne and mock me whilst we tarry up here with a bunch of thieves and bastard boys. We'll as likely starve and die up here if we stay, snowed in with no path south.'
'The other northern houses haven't yet replied to our call to banners,' Davos said, beseeching him to see sense. They may have felt a loyalty to Roose Bolton but they surely felt little love for his bastard son who now ruled in his place. He'd done nothing to earn any glory, and was rumoured to be all that his family's sigil represented - a man prepared to flay his enemies living. Tales of Roose's murder were laced with suspicion that his own son had done the deed, as disloyal and duplicitous as his father.
'They've had long enough to consider our offer and come to their senses,' Stannis replied, harsh and unyielding.
'At least petition the Karstarks and the Umbers again,' Davos implored. Their numbers alone would swell the ranks more than all the other houses combined. Without those two houses aligned to house Bolton others might follow.
'It will take weeks to receive word,' Melissandre said, rejoining the argument. 'Winter will only grow worse the longer we wait. We must strike south and take Winterfell before it does.' She had changed her tune and Davos wondered why. What else was there to fear in heading south but for defeat?
'Have you tried speaking to the Lord Commander again?' A plea from Jon Snow could be enough to tip the other houses into abandoning their current allegiances.
Stannis snorted in derision. 'The boy is as stubborn as his father. I offered to remake him into a trueborn Stark and he refused. The Night's Watch will not help us.'
Davos' heart sank. A Stark in the north allied to Stannis would have made all the difference. He sighed. He knew this wasn't an argument he could win. He didn't have to show loyalty to Melissandre - though it could cost him his life not to - but he was loyal to his King. 'I guess that’s that, then. I'll arrange a party of loyal men to remain here at Castle Black with the Queen and princess Shireen.'
'They come with us.' Stannis' words were blunt and Davos' gaze went immediately to the red woman who nodded in agreement. Davos chewed the inside of his lip as he glared back at her. What dangerous game are you playing? he wondered.