Fandomweekly Challenge 30 - Blind faith

[m_findlow]

Title: Blind faith
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M (language) / Spoilers for Seasons 5 & 6
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 30 - Moment of truth at fandomweekly
Summary: Ser Davvos has a plan that rests on blind faith alone.

Edd barked out a laugh, which seemed at complete odds with the expression on his face. 'You must be joking.'

Ser Davvos stiffened and braced his feet a little further apart, as if expecting further recriminations from Edd's brothers for the suggestion. He could hardly blame the man for thinking he was mad to suggest that they could somehow bring the dead back to life, even if that man was their Lord Commander, and all that stood between them and their own deaths.

'Well,' Davvos began, 'the way I see it is you've only got two options. Wait in here for Thorne to come and kill us, or go out there and die just the same. I don't doubt Ser Alliser shan't bother with a noose and a public hanging or even a beheading. It'll be a slaughter however you cut it. The men out there might hate him, but they know that their lives are worth more than loyalty to their former Lord Commander. Ser Alliser will win them over with fear alone.'

'Thorne can suck my cock before I'd follow him,' Edd spat. 'Jon was our leader. He was my brother. I loved him like any flesh and blood brother. None of us would be alive now if it weren't for him. He didn't deserve to be butchered like a pig.'

'On that we're in heated agreement,' Davvos said, 'but my point is that he's no good to us dead.'

Edd shook his head. 'You want some witch from Essos to chant a few spells, invoke a few gods? There's only old gods up here, Onion Knight, and they don't give a fuck about the Night's Watch.'

Davvos could sense he was losing the argument. 'What would Jon do if it were you lying on that table?'

'He'd burn my body then kill the fuckers who'd done this,' Edd replied.

Davvos held his expression in place. He'd been here long enough to understand that loyalty meant everything to most of these men. This was the only place in the realm that would have them and so they'd made a kingdom all of their own with their Lord Commander at the helm. He was elected by them to represent them and be the one who oversaw their protective duties at the Wall. It wasn't a posting that could be passed down from one highborn to another. It had to be earned. Would that the other Seven Kingdoms could learn from them. How many wars might have been prevented by letting the people choose their own ruler?

Davvos prepared himself for his next admission. 'I've already asked, and the gods only know I had to beg her to even consider it. She makes no promises, I'll grant you that, but she will try.'

Edd cast a mournful look at Jon's body lying on the table. 'I never put much store in gods and magic.'

'Then you've got nothing to lose. If this doesn't work, then Jon is just as dead as he is now.'

Edd raised an eyebrow. 'And if it does?'

Davvos paused at the question. It was the one thing he didn't have an answer for. 'We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.' If they came to it, he reminded himself.

'At least there's one consolation to being stuck in here with fifty swords wanting us dead,' Edd replied.

'What's that?' Davvos was sure they were out of consolations.

'Lord Commander's quarters,' Edd said. 'We've got the good ale in here. If we are going to die, at least it will be with a belly full of stout.'

Melissandre looked only marginally more settled when Davvos permitted her inside than when he had gone to her earlier seeking her help. She was pale and drawn but she held her head as high as she could. He only hoped her faith had not been so badly shaken that she could not use it now to save Jon.

'Ser Davvos,' she began.

He cut her off. 'I know. Just try. Please.'

'I will need some time to prepare the body. That is just as important as the actual invocations.'

'We'll hold the door. See Alliser's men won't interrupt us.'

She proceeded over to the body lying on the table and unashamedly removed the coverings, revealing the naked flesh underneath. Davvos tried not to cringe at the action. The Silent Sisters would have done the same, he reminded himself, as they prepared a body for funeral rites.

She spent an age bathing Jon's body with water and oils, removing the blood and cleaning the wounds where sword and knife had ravaged his torso. Each stroke was slow and purposeful, each wringing out of the rags red and bloody as she dipped them in the bowl of water at her side.

When she was satisfied, she took a pair of shears in her hand. She began murmuring indecipherable words as she clipped away hair from his chest, his groin, and then his head.

Davvos chanced a glance sideways at Edd, feeling the tension in the air rising as the room grew hot and smoky from the fire and the pungent oils burning. 'Think I'll have some of that ale, now,' he said. Edd silently left his side and returned shortly after with two horns of strong ale. Both men downed them quickly, neither receiving any comfort from the alcohol as the Red Woman continued her ministrations. There wasn't a drink in the entire Seven Kingdoms that could fortify them for what was to come.

Melissandre set down the shears and came to stand at the head of the table, gripping Jon's head in her hands as she stood over it. Her fiery red eyes looked up and locked onto Davvos, a silent question on her lips. This was it, he realised. The moment he had to choose whether to stop this, or to put faith in a God he didn't believe in. Before he could change his mind, he nodded.