9 Salt Silver

A sky of gray over Blackwater Bay, the deep kind, with clouds that curled and crashed like the waves below. Gulls, gawking and squawking, seemingly adamant about flying over the ship and pooping on deck.

Margaret, Gendry, and Dante boarded The Canary, a modest cog with the home port of Duskendale.

Margaret stood in the shade with her arms crossed, "You don't have to scrub the deck, you know. Dante paid our fare plenty—"

Gendry mopped the deck with a youthful fury. Dante had paid Master Mott for the time Gendry and Margaret would spend away from the forge. Dante didn't mind; he reckoned they deserved a nice break. Besides, he enjoyed their company.

"I mop because it helps the seasickness," lied Gendry.

Margaret rolled her eyes, "Why can't you relax like him?"

Dante sat up in the crow's nest, his long dark ponytail dancing wild in the breeze. He meditated, his eyes closed, feeling the sway of the sea. He imagined in that moment that thoughts were like waves, calm one day, rough the next. If man could quiet his mind, perhaps he could quiet the ocean.

The thought made him giggle. How ridiculous. Then, below, a crew member shouted, "There she is!"

"Way ho!"

Dante opened his emerald eyes to behold a grand citadel, its black stones standing defiant against the shores. A dark island wrought with bare cliffs, with a mighty volcanic mountain that imposed its foreboding will.

Dragonstone.

Dante climbed down and sorted his belongings.

"This is as far ashore I'll take you," said Steffon, captain of The Canary, through a salted beard and curly brown hair. He handed the oars to Gendry, "You row from here."

"Much obliged, captain," said Dante, slinging his pack over his shoulder before bowing respectfully, "See you in 7 days."

Steffon winced lazily, "As per our agreement."

So it was - the trio rowed their dingy to Dragonstone, waving The Canary goodbye with nothing but smiles. Those smiles turned to frowns when they turned to shore and saw the party awaiting them.

It had to be twenty men, all clad in serious black, their polished chain mail reflecting what little sun squeezed through the clouds.

Among these stern faces, standing at the forefront with his hands behind his back, a tall and slight man, his bearded cheeks specked with white, observed with a quiet look. Around his neck was a black pouch, its contents Dante could only guess. Nonetheless, the slight man dressed in a simple brown mantle had an air of authority about him. To his side was a boy around the same age as Gendry and Dante, his expression a combo of determined and constipated.

Determinedly Constipated.

Gendry and Dante hopped out of the rowboat, dragging it, Margaret and their supplies ashore. When they reached dry land, Dante crouched and scooped a mound of sand. Black salt-silver particles streamed through his fingers' cracks like crumbling old pages of history.

"Well?" asked Gendry as he came to Dante's side.

"Patience," chuckled Dante, "We've only just arrived."

The slight gentlemen and his entourage of men clad in mail and black strode closer. "Greetings, friends," said he, with an accent all too familiar, "My name is Davos Seaworth. Who might you be?"

"Ser Davos," corrected Mathos, his thirteen-year-old son.

"Pardon me. Yes, Ser Davos," said the Onion Knight with hand on heart, "Even after all these years, I'm still not used to it."

Dante smiled. Ser Davos had a pure aura, his blue eyes shining with sincerity. He remembered those distant days when students came in droves calling him Master, and he could understand Davos' sentiment. It took decades to get used to it.

"There is nothing to be forgiven, my Lord," said Dante, planting a fist in hand before bowing the sword master bow, the ultimate form of respect, "My name is Dante. This lovely one is Margaret, and the strong-looking one is Gendry. We come from King's Landing."

Davos swayed in his place. It was hard to tell if it was a little dance or if he was just too used to being on the ocean…. "King's Landing, you say? I'm from there myself."

Margaret, Gendry and Dante all gawked at each other queerly before laughing.

"Right," said Gendry, swinging his jaw, "You're from King's Landing."

Davos raised a brow, "Why, yes? Flea Bottom born and raised, I am."

"Bahahaha!" the laughs were louder this time, causing Mathos to grind his teeth with anger.

"What's so funny?" asked Davos, practically laughing himself.

"Apologies, my Lord," said Margaret, her red curls a welcome sight in the bleak gray bay, "It's just…. The idea of a Lord being from Flea Bottom made us laugh."

"It's true. I'm from Flea Bottom"

"Sure you are," said Gendry, half sarcastic, half wanting to believe it. In the presence of any other 'Lord', Gendry would be prim with respect. But to a fellow local of Flea Bottom? If you grow up in a place like that, your vocabulary is far from proper. No amount of titles or honors could change that, "And I'm King Robert Baratheon."

Davos ignored the teenage shade, "I lived below the street of flour."

"How far below?" asked Gendry, "How close to the Red Keep were you?"

Davos searched his memory, and they flooded back to him like a river of…. Shit?

"The pit that flowed from their privy pipes flowed down the side of Aegon's Hill, along Tanner's Road, and right in front of my front door…. On—"

"Gin Alley!" Dante, Gendry, and Davos said together.

Davos widened his eyes after such a happy surprise, "Flea Bottom locals yourselves?"

"Gendry was born and raised there," said Dante, "I'm from a small village in the Westerlands, but I've lived in Flea Bottom for a few years now. We all work in Tobho Mott's shop on the street of steel. We're apprentices."

"Tobho Mott's shop on the street of steel?" smiled Davos, "I know it well. So what brings three young apprentices from the fancy street of steel here to Dragonstone?"

That's when Dante poked his tongue against his cheek, looking around innocently,

"We're here in search of Magic."

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Next Chapter: What magic lies in Dragonstone?

P.S. For anyone wondering, Davos is in Dragonstone to visit Shireen. In my mind, he's with Stannis @King's Landing most of the time, as Stannis is still in the small council at this time, and Davos would surely be a close companion. But who knows? Perhaps during Stannis' small council days, Davos chilled at whatever castle he was given with his wife and children. Either way, I like to think him visiting Shireen in Dragonstone would be a likely probability. But I'm interested in what you guys think. Where would Davos normally be at this time, year 293-96 A.C.?