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fandomweekly2020-01-11 06:37 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2020-01-11 06:37 pm
Entry tags:
[#037] BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD (GAME OF THRONES)
Theme Prompt: #037 - Reunion
Title: But for the grace of God
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of Blackwater Bay, Davos is given a choice to free himself.
Davos cracked open an eye but there was nothing to see, only darkness. He couldn't tell anymore if it was night or day, having given up counting the meals served to him. All he knew was that somewhere in his hazy dreams he'd heard, or perhaps imagined, a voice as sweet as any. He could picture the short girl with her terribly scarred face, begging Lamprey to let her see her Onion Knight.
'There's nothing for princesses to see down here,' he gruffly replied.
A jingle of bells rang out. 'There's lots to see, I know, oh ho ho!' came the sing-song voice of Patchface.
'Be gone with you, motley fool!' Lamprey snapped.
'Come along, Patchface,' Shireen said, her voice full of disappointment.
It broke Davos' heart. A more spoiled princess would simply demand to be allowed inside the prison cells, but not sweet Shireen. She had none of her parent's coldness or any designs for power. She would make a fine queen one day, assuming they lived long enough to see it.
Perhaps he should have taken Sallador's offer of a ship and made a new life for himself in Bravvos. Would that duty did not call to him like the harsh taskmaster it was. His King was in grave peril, whether he knew it or not. Only a coward would run, and whilst Davos wasn't a brave man, he was no coward. If he could survive the burning river of fire of the Blackwater, he could survive a few months in prison.
In the end he didn't have to wait long at all before another voice came calling on him. This time Lamprey did not send them away. Stannis was their King.
A flaming torch was set in the wall sconce beside his filthy cell, rippling orange light that hurt his eyes and cast dancing shadows of the iron bars across the far wall. Once his eyes adjusted, he could see the grim, unchanging face of his King.
'I thought you were dead,' Stannis said.
Davos rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the cracked and blistered skin beginning to flake from his days stranded on that tiny rock in the sun. 'I thought I was,' he replied. 'By the will of the Seven, it turns out onions float, Your Grace. But they don't keep so well in the dark.'
'Not Seven. One,' Stannis corrected him. 'I should have you burned alive for your treason.'
'And what treason would that be, Your Grace?'
'The Lady Melissandre claims you returned to Dragonstone to have her killed. Killing the King's counsel is treason.'
'Oh? She reads minds now as well as fires?' Davos struggled to his feet, clinging to the bars to keep his little used legs going out from under him. 'If a man were adjudged guilty of the things that he thinks only in his mind, the Night's Watch would be the largest army in Westeros.'
'Do you deny it, Ser Davos?'
'I do not.' He would kill the Red Woman with his bare hands if he had to. 'Her fires destroyed our fleet. They killed thousands and thousands of good men. My sons died because of her. They begged me to denounce the Seven and follow this so-called one true God. What protection did your Red God afford them? Which King does she serve that she would let our forces burn?'
Stannis didn't even balk at the accusation. 'The fires were not hers. You waste your time trying to avenge your sons if you wish to kill her.' Stannis began pacing in front of the cell. 'Have you ever seen wildfire before, Ser Davos? A Targaryen weapon. As if having giant fire-breathing dragons wasn't enough. Their guild masters crafted it. Burns hotter than any flame, cannot be doused by water, and glows green. After we deposed the Mad King we found caches of it buried all over the city. Aerys would have burned the city to the ground rather than surrender it. Robert banned the guild from making it ever again.' He snorted. 'Should have known the Lannisters would pay the guild handsomely to continue their work in secret. I was never convinced we found it all in any case. That was what destroyed our fleet. Had the Red Woman gone to battle with us, she might have had a way to stop it.'
Davos could still picture the Blackwater perfectly in his mind, all afire with green flames that rose twenty feet into the sky. Of his sons, Maric, Allard, Matthos and Devan, only that one last glimpse of Matthos remained before his beloved ship Black Betha was torn asunder from underneath him, and then Davos' world became nothing more than a swirl of green and black. He shouldn't have survived when his sons had not. Was this the price to be paid for forsaking the Warrior and the Stranger? Was that why the Seven had saved him alone?
'I served you loyally for many years, Your Grace. I had the choice and I came back to Dragonstone to do what's right and just. You once valued my counsel. Why else would you have made me your Master of Ships? Let me serve you still.'
'With what fleet?' Stannis demanded to know. 'The Lannisters crippled us. Every last ship except for those that coward smuggler friend of yours pledged to our cause are gone. We haven't enough men to lay siege to Tarth let alone King's Landing.'
'So, I'm just to be left here to die?' Davos asked, curious for the answer.
'If I wanted you dead, do you think I'd have let them keep feeding you down here? Melissandre claims to have seen you in her flames. I am not yet done with you, it seems.'
'I've seen what she does with people she doesn't trust or have you forgotten the fate of your Grand Maester?'
'It's your decision, Ser Davos. Follow whichever Gods you want, but know that you can only serve one King.'
Title: But for the grace of God
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of Blackwater Bay, Davos is given a choice to free himself.
Davos cracked open an eye but there was nothing to see, only darkness. He couldn't tell anymore if it was night or day, having given up counting the meals served to him. All he knew was that somewhere in his hazy dreams he'd heard, or perhaps imagined, a voice as sweet as any. He could picture the short girl with her terribly scarred face, begging Lamprey to let her see her Onion Knight.
'There's nothing for princesses to see down here,' he gruffly replied.
A jingle of bells rang out. 'There's lots to see, I know, oh ho ho!' came the sing-song voice of Patchface.
'Be gone with you, motley fool!' Lamprey snapped.
'Come along, Patchface,' Shireen said, her voice full of disappointment.
It broke Davos' heart. A more spoiled princess would simply demand to be allowed inside the prison cells, but not sweet Shireen. She had none of her parent's coldness or any designs for power. She would make a fine queen one day, assuming they lived long enough to see it.
Perhaps he should have taken Sallador's offer of a ship and made a new life for himself in Bravvos. Would that duty did not call to him like the harsh taskmaster it was. His King was in grave peril, whether he knew it or not. Only a coward would run, and whilst Davos wasn't a brave man, he was no coward. If he could survive the burning river of fire of the Blackwater, he could survive a few months in prison.
In the end he didn't have to wait long at all before another voice came calling on him. This time Lamprey did not send them away. Stannis was their King.
A flaming torch was set in the wall sconce beside his filthy cell, rippling orange light that hurt his eyes and cast dancing shadows of the iron bars across the far wall. Once his eyes adjusted, he could see the grim, unchanging face of his King.
'I thought you were dead,' Stannis said.
Davos rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the cracked and blistered skin beginning to flake from his days stranded on that tiny rock in the sun. 'I thought I was,' he replied. 'By the will of the Seven, it turns out onions float, Your Grace. But they don't keep so well in the dark.'
'Not Seven. One,' Stannis corrected him. 'I should have you burned alive for your treason.'
'And what treason would that be, Your Grace?'
'The Lady Melissandre claims you returned to Dragonstone to have her killed. Killing the King's counsel is treason.'
'Oh? She reads minds now as well as fires?' Davos struggled to his feet, clinging to the bars to keep his little used legs going out from under him. 'If a man were adjudged guilty of the things that he thinks only in his mind, the Night's Watch would be the largest army in Westeros.'
'Do you deny it, Ser Davos?'
'I do not.' He would kill the Red Woman with his bare hands if he had to. 'Her fires destroyed our fleet. They killed thousands and thousands of good men. My sons died because of her. They begged me to denounce the Seven and follow this so-called one true God. What protection did your Red God afford them? Which King does she serve that she would let our forces burn?'
Stannis didn't even balk at the accusation. 'The fires were not hers. You waste your time trying to avenge your sons if you wish to kill her.' Stannis began pacing in front of the cell. 'Have you ever seen wildfire before, Ser Davos? A Targaryen weapon. As if having giant fire-breathing dragons wasn't enough. Their guild masters crafted it. Burns hotter than any flame, cannot be doused by water, and glows green. After we deposed the Mad King we found caches of it buried all over the city. Aerys would have burned the city to the ground rather than surrender it. Robert banned the guild from making it ever again.' He snorted. 'Should have known the Lannisters would pay the guild handsomely to continue their work in secret. I was never convinced we found it all in any case. That was what destroyed our fleet. Had the Red Woman gone to battle with us, she might have had a way to stop it.'
Davos could still picture the Blackwater perfectly in his mind, all afire with green flames that rose twenty feet into the sky. Of his sons, Maric, Allard, Matthos and Devan, only that one last glimpse of Matthos remained before his beloved ship Black Betha was torn asunder from underneath him, and then Davos' world became nothing more than a swirl of green and black. He shouldn't have survived when his sons had not. Was this the price to be paid for forsaking the Warrior and the Stranger? Was that why the Seven had saved him alone?
'I served you loyally for many years, Your Grace. I had the choice and I came back to Dragonstone to do what's right and just. You once valued my counsel. Why else would you have made me your Master of Ships? Let me serve you still.'
'With what fleet?' Stannis demanded to know. 'The Lannisters crippled us. Every last ship except for those that coward smuggler friend of yours pledged to our cause are gone. We haven't enough men to lay siege to Tarth let alone King's Landing.'
'So, I'm just to be left here to die?' Davos asked, curious for the answer.
'If I wanted you dead, do you think I'd have let them keep feeding you down here? Melissandre claims to have seen you in her flames. I am not yet done with you, it seems.'
'I've seen what she does with people she doesn't trust or have you forgotten the fate of your Grand Maester?'
'It's your decision, Ser Davos. Follow whichever Gods you want, but know that you can only serve one King.'
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