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Game of Thrones: StormBorn

Arthur Baratheon, the young son of Stannis Baratheon, carries himself with a maturity far beyond his years, reflecting the stern, duty-driven nature of his father. As Stannis prepares for war against the Ironborn, Arthur observes the weight of his father's responsibilities, understanding that duty often comes at the cost of personal connection. Despite the emotional distance between them, Arthur seeks to fulfill his role as both son and heir, guiding Stannis to visit his infant sister, Shireen. The brief interaction reveals the coldness between Stannis and his wife, Selyse, and the emotional toll of leadership. In a rare moment of tenderness, Stannis holds Shireen, allowing Arthur to glimpse a side of his father that is rarely shown. Through Arthur’s stoic perspective, the narrative delves into the burdens of duty, the complexities of family, and the quiet resolve required to carry them. ———————————————————- Author:Charlezany Title:Son of Man(Nis)

MichaWT · Ti vi
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59 Chs

Davos II

289AC

It was two weeks at sea before the lookouts spotted the green hills of the arbor, covered in their famous vineyards and olive groves. Even at this distance, it looked far more cheerful than the port at Dragonstone they had set out from.

Despite this, however, the mood of Lord Stannis had only worsened. The proximity to the Reach was decidedly negative in the Lord's view, despite the fact that he would be acquiring reinforcements to the fleet there.

Davos could guess why. Many of those ships that were joining the fleet today were the same ones that had seen Stannis, his wife, and their newborn son nearly starve to death some nine years earlier Feasted even as the defenders starved. Indeed he had earned his knighthood sneaking past them.

Personally, he thought it justice in a way that Lord Paxter would now be answering to Lord Stannis' call. The tables were fully turned, but Lord Stannis always did have a hard time seeing the positive in things.

"Davos." His lord nodded as he stepped onto the deck, exiting his quarters at the aft of the Fury. The Baratheon moved beside him, taller than him by nearly a full head.

'He was just a boy the last time he saw the Redwyne fleet.' Davos realized with a start, his Lord had indeed been only sixteen when he held storms end, and shorter than the onion knight by afoot. The nubs where the tips of his fingers once sat tingled.

"Hmm. It seems that Lord Paxter wants to lay out the red carpet for us. Let's see what he wants." His lord gestured to a path that was being opened in the fleet ahead for the flagship to traverse. "I can't imagine he does it of the kindness of his heart."

"No" Davos admitted. "I imagine not."

They were guided by their rowers past a few dozen cogs and a handful of Gallies to the Redwyne's own docks at Ryamsport. The town's rulers had obviously decided to display their wealth as ostentatiously as at all possible. Great green and purple banners hung from the white plastered buildings of the port, and streamers bearing the symbol of house Redwyne flapped from a hundred flagpoles strewn across the waterfront.

He saw that his Lord's frown deepened at the display, and he knew that whatever the Redwynes wanted they likely wouldn't get this day.

Still, it appeared that they fully intended to try, as Lord Paxter himself had come down from the docks at the head of a procession. Even his Lord Baratheon wasn't willing to snub the man so greatly as to ignore him personally.

No, with a quick glance he let Davos know that he was in charge of the ship, before marching off with his bodyguard to go meet his peer.

While Davos considered getting away from politics largely a positive, he had to admit that the Fury took a great deal of effort to manage, even more so when it's supplies needed refilling.

"Right you sorry layabouts. Let's get to work."

It was several hours in a blur of haggling, telling off port officials who wanted to tax the royal godsdamn fleet, and keeping unruly sailors in line before evening set in, and his Lord's return with it.

Davos didn't doubt that he had been offered to lodge with the Redwynes, but if the man wouldn't sleep in his own castle while on the campaign then he doubted their hospitality was worthwhile to the stag either.

After a change of clothes, his Lord came to stand with him on the Fury's deck. Overlooking the still bustling port town.

"I take it the men have not decided to quarter on the ship?" Davos turned to his lord, raising an eyebrow at the silly question.

"If you're asking if they're all out whoring the answer is yes."

Lord Stannis let out a sharp breath through his nose and then shook his head. "Fools, the lot of them."

"Not all men hold duty as highly as you, my Lord."

"I am aware."

They stood there a while, in a silence that was both amiable, and a tad awkward, as all things were with his Lord.

Still, eventually, the curiosity got the better of him.

"So what did the Redwynes want anyway?" he asked, turning away from the raunchy port town to look at his Lord.

"Just another marriage proposal for Arthur, they have a daughter the same age that they introduced me too. She is not unpleasant."

"I hadn't realized that you were so inundated with requests for the boy's hand."

"There are indeed many such requests, most unserious or ill-fitting. The Redwynes are neither."

"So you accepted?"

"No."

Davos stared at his lord, and finally, the Baratheon relented and explained.

"He is still too young. He will face his duty in time, but until then I will not sell his hand away."

Davos nodded at that, even if the boy was oddly mature, he was still very young for marriage. Not entirely unheard of, but extremely rare, especially for boys.

"I take it that went over well?"

"Well enough once I explained my reasoning. The fleet still sails."

"Of course it does, they aren't Freys." Davos snorted. "Even if they don't like you the won't ignore the crown's command over a denied marriage proposal to a child."

"Mhm." Stannis nodded and turned back towards his quarters.

Still, the Onion Knight had one last question to ask.

"My Lord, have you decided on an age that would be appropriate for him yet?" It was idle curiosity, more out of interest as to whether his Lord was simply shielding his son from the world or if he truly intended to marry him off eventually.

Lord Stannis paused for a moment, as if thinking it over, before finally answering.

"Twelve I should think. That was when mine was arranged."

As his Lord disappeared below decks, Davos internally swore off ever seeking arranged marriages for his children.

'tch, lord's games.'