Fic repost: I woke, and found that life was Duty (Stannis/Davos)

[linndechir]

Title: I woke, and found that life was Duty
Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire
Pairings/Characters: Stannis/Davos, mentions of Selyse, Shireen and Marya
Rating: PG
Words: 2884
Warnings: none
Prompt: Stannis/Davos (gen or UST or slash) - discussing marriage and its meaning.
Summary: Davos only ever wished that Stannis could have known the same happiness in his marriage that Davos had found with Marya.
Author's Note: Written for roflskate on got_exchange. Reposted on my LJ because I like to have all my fics in one place.


I slept, and dreamed that life was Beauty;
I woke, and found that life was Duty.
                - Ellen Sturgis Hooper




Stannis Baratheon's chambers were in the highest tower of the Red Keep, and climbing the stairs always left Davos a bit out of breath. It might have looked like another slight to lodge the king's eldest brother so far from the royal chambers, but Davos knew that Stannis had picked the rooms himself. He wasn't quite sure whether Stannis just wanted to be as far away from his brothers and the other lords as possible, whether the countless steps were supposed to discourage visitors, or whether he simply enjoyed the view. While Stannis seemed to have no regard for any other beauty, his love for the sea rivalled Davos' own, and as frugal as Stannis' chambers were, they did offer a spectacular view.

Davos was therefore not surprised to find his lord standing by the window, his hands folded behind his back. It was Stannis' favourite place to brood, eyes locked on the ocean, ignoring the city beneath, and probably wishing he were at Storm's End or at least Dragonstone. Davos wondered if Stannis' eyes were searching one particular ship on the horizon. He walked over to him without further invitation: Stannis had summoned him, and Davos wouldn't waste their time with courteous questions whether he was bothering him. His lord glanced at him for a moment, their eyes meeting in a silent greeting before Stannis looked back outside.

"It's a fine day, no sign of storms," Davos commented after a minute of companionable silence, although Stannis knew that as well as he did. "I heard you sent Lady Selyse and your daughter to Dragonstone."

"They left this morning." Stannis' voice was flat. "Shireen's health is fragile and the maester suggested that the air in King's Landing might not be good for her."

Davos couldn't help but wonder to what extent it had been the maester's, and not Stannis' own suggestion. Stannis didn't mind his daughter's presence so much, even though he had trouble keeping the disappointment out of his eyes every time he looked at the quiet little girl, but his demeanour towards his wife was so cold it made him look downright cordial towards other people. He must have known that Selyse would accompany Shireen to Dragonstone rather than stay in King's Landing with her husband.

When Davos had first heard that Stannis was sending his wife away, he had almost dared to hope that she was with child again and therefore retiring from the busy capital, but Stannis would have shared such news with him already. Three years had passed since Shireen's birth and Lady Selyse had seemingly recovered from the ordeal, yet despite continued attempts she had not become pregnant again. Maybe the maester had been right, all those years ago, when he had said that Lady Selyse might not be able to have more children after the difficult first birth. Maybe Stannis had sent her away because he had started to believe him.

He was still staring out at the ocean, and Davos followed his gaze. There was a longing in Stannis' eyes that Davos could understand too well. Things were maybe not easier at sea, but they were simpler. The sea was to Stannis what war was to King Robert – a life away from politics, court intrigues and an unhappy marriage.

It was oddly quiet up here, the noise of the city seemed more distant than the wind coming in from the ocean, and there was no need to disrupt the peaceful silence with empty words. Sometimes when Stannis asked him here they wouldn't speak at all, but simply shared the silence for hours. When Stannis shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his shoulder brushed against Davos'. It was such a fleeting touch, but it filled Davos with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Do you miss your wife?" Stannis asked suddenly.

"Of course I do." His mind was still on how rarely Stannis ever touched him, or anybody else, and Davos realised his unfortunate choice of words a moment too late. "You will not miss yours."

"I do not enjoy her company any more than she does mine." There was not even any sadness in Stannis' voice, only resignation. Their marriage had been one of convenience from the very beginning, and the seeds of affection that might have once existed during Selyse's pregnancy had long since dried up. "It seems that she will not give me a son any time soon, so there is no need for her to be here."

"She may still give you a son in the future. You told me yourself that your parents had already long given up hope for another child when your brother Renly was born." Davos wasn't sure if he believed his own words. But the hopelessness in Stannis' voice was painful to hear, and stranger things had happened than a seemingly barren woman giving birth again.

A muscle in Stannis' jaw twitched, accompanied by the too familiar sound of grinding teeth.

"I will, of course, do my duty once she returns," he said. He seemed to look forward to it as much as to the next evening he'd have to spend with his brothers.

Davos felt his heart ache. He thought of his Marya, of the smile on her face every time he came home, the love in her eyes when he stepped through the door, the warmth and softness of her body when she hugged him, when they went to bed together. He thought of waking up in her arms in the morning, of her plump fingers in his hair, her lips when she kissed him, her voice when she said she loved him. Marya was his home, Marya was safety and warmth and comfort. Other men would not see anything special in her, he knew that, but to him she was the best woman in the world.

Not for the first time, Davos wondered if Stannis had ever been with any woman other than his wife. He had been three-and-twenty when he married Selyse. Davos found it hard to imagine that a man that age had never known a woman, and yet it seemed even less likely that Stannis would steal away for a short tryst with a young lady at court, a servant girl in Storm's End, and least of all a whore. Davos would not have been surprised if Stannis had not even been kissed before his wedding day, and Selyse had hardly been able to show him that his marital duties could be enjoyed. Stannis always seemed to dread the nights he spent in her bed, and he only looked unhappier in the morning. Davos had always felt sorry for girls who were married off to older or ugly men, yet he had never imagined that marriage could be as unpleasant a chore for a man as for a woman. Stannis flinched whenever Selyse touched him, as if her presence alone was repulsive to him. The promise of a son was all that had ever brought him to her bed, but he seemed to have given up even on that.

It pained him that Stannis would never know the happiness Davos had found with Marya, nor even the pleasure a man could find in a woman's embrace. He wondered if the lines would be less deep on that stern face if Stannis had married a different woman. He wondered if she didn't love him because he could not love her, or if he could not love her because she didn't love him. He wondered if there was, if there ever had been a woman in the world who could have given to Stannis what Marya gave to Davos.

Davos only realised how long he had been quiet when he felt Stannis' eyes on him, calm and cool and yet so full of suppressed feeling. They looked unusually bright in the glaring midday sun, sky-blue rather than their usual darker hue. It made him look like a boy, despite the shadow of a beard on his jaw.

"I always thought marriage should be about more than only duty," Davos answered Stannis' questioning look. The frown deepened, the boy was gone, replaced once more by the man who had lost all hope too early in his life.

"Maybe it is for you, Davos. Your wife married you when you were nothing but a smuggler. She did it out of love." He said it as gingerly as if the word itself felt unfamiliar. "But lords do not marry for love, nor even for company."

"There still are lords who are happy in their marriages." Davos hesitated. I shouldn't say it. It will only hurt him, and it will serve no purpose. But Stannis kept looking at him expectantly, quietly demanding to know what Davos had on his mind. Davos sighed. Sometimes he wished Stannis would not always insist on reminding himself of his own misery. "When you married her ... I hoped she would grow to love you."

Stannis' eyes narrowed as they met Davos'; for a second Davos expected anger, expected to be scolded for musing about what could or should have been. But Stannis only shook his head. He looked bone-weary.

"And why would she?"

Davos could think of a thousand answers, and none.

He lowered his gaze, biting his tongue. He knew of so many reasons to love Stannis, but what could he say to a man who even needed to ask that question? To a man who thought that love was the privilege of his brothers, a gift freely given to them while Stannis did not even know how to fight for it?

"I thought so," Stannis snorted. Davos would have smiled if his heart hadn't been so heavy. Of course Stannis would read his silence as an admission that there was, in fact, nothing to love.

"My lord," Davos said, looking up, but words failed him again. While Stannis had seemed unusually relaxed when Davos had arrived, he was tense now, his jaw clenched, his neck muscles standing out like cords, his teeth grinding as if he was trying to chew his worries to pieces. It bothered Davos that he had not only failed to ease Stannis' mind, but upset him even more.

They were still standing close, slightly turned towards each other. Davos raised his hand – the left one, the maimed one, the one Stannis had marked as his – hovered over Stannis' shoulder for a moment, then lowered his hand when Stannis did not move away. It was a warm day, Stannis was wearing a thin doublet and Davos could feel the muscles tense and cramp underneath his fingers. It hurt him to think that Stannis reacted the way he did with his wife, but then the muscles relaxed under his hand. Rather than pull back soon, like he usually did, Davos gently ran his hand over Stannis' shoulder. Even when relaxed, Stannis' body felt always hard; it was nothing like touching Marya, and yet it felt no less familiar, as rarely as it happened.

His eyes never left Stannis', half expecting a sign that he should move away, that he had outstayed his welcome. Stannis' jaw stopped moving, his lips relaxed, the thin, hard line giving way to what passed for a smile on Stannis' face – the absence of a frown more than anything else. For a minute he just looked relaxed, content almost, unmoving as Davos caressed his shoulder. And then, as quickly as it had disappeared, the frown returned to his face, as if he had decided that this had gone too far already. Stannis swallowed and cleared his throat.

"You should go to Cape Wrath while the weather is so fine. Go to see your wife. Your sons." There was a pause when Stannis raised his hand to squeeze Davos' shoulder. The movement was awkward, clumsy almost. Davos could not remember the last time he had seen Stannis touch anyone, hugging his daughter maybe or ruffling his little brother's hair. "I have no need of you at the moment, and I should not keep you away from your family for ... selfish reasons."

It was the first time Stannis had ever sent him away. Usually Davos had to ask him for leave to visit his family, and while Stannis never denied him, he always looked reluctant to let him go.

"You are the least selfish man I know, my lord. You would do well to be more selfish every now and then."

Stannis' fingers tightened on his shoulder, the grip almost painful as his eyes widened. His hand moved up a little until rough fingertips brushed Davos' skin above the collar of his shirt. His eyes were filled with the same longing as before, when he had stared at the sea. Davos wanted to tell him that it was all right, that he need not worry. Wanted to pull him close, remind him at least of what a proper embrace felt like, but he couldn't. Even now it would feel inappropriate to step closer than Stannis had asked him to.

The intensity of Stannis' gaze might have frightened other men, but Davos had grown used to it over the years. It was as familiar as Marya's smile, and he loved it every bit as much. But Stannis himself seemed to shy away from his thoughts, for he suddenly looked away, pulled his hand back as if he had burnt himself.

"You would not want that," he said. His voice sounded as taut as a bow string that was about to tear.

"That is where you're mistaken, my lord," Davos replied softly. His hand had stilled on Stannis' shoulder, waiting for a reaction, but Stannis did not move, did not speak, did not look at him again. It was as if he hadn't heard Davos' words, had chosen not to hear them.

Suppressing a sigh Davos stepped back, lingering only for another second before he pulled back his hand. He did not miss the flash of disappointment in Stannis' eyes, but there was nothing more he could do than offer. Not for the first time Davos thought that maybe his lord had never been with another woman because he had never wanted to, because there was something else he'd rather have, something he thought was forever out of reach.

"Go home to your family, ser," Stannis repeated, turning his eyes back to the window, to the sea. "If I keep you away from them any longer, your sons will forget what their father even looks like. And I have council matters to attend to."

"As you wish, my lord," Davos complied. "But I will not stay too long." Before Stannis could object, he added, "I want to return before the storms start again and I'd have to go by land."

Stannis nodded, satisfied with the answer. The sun was shining onto his face, it had to be blinding him, but he barely blinked. It was the most beautiful day Davos had seen in weeks, or maybe it just seemed too flawless compared to his lord's dark mood. It felt wrong to leave Stannis like this, knowing that nothing in the upcoming weeks was likely to cheer him up.

"With your permission, my lord, I will leave with the first tide tomorrow morning," he said, relieved to have thought of an excuse to stay just a bit longer. "It would be more sensible than to leave now."

Stannis turned his head, his brow furrowed. He seemed to hesitate, as if looking for a reason to send Davos away, until Davos put his hand back on Stannis' shoulder, the stumps of his fingers barely brushing the dark fabric. Stannis' eyes softened a little.

"You're right, ser," he admitted, somewhat grudgingly, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. "Dine with me tonight. It would spare me the company of my brothers."

Davos smiled at that, but he didn't reply when Stannis took his hand, pushing it off his shoulder, but lingering briefly, fingers curled just around Davos' index and middle finger, as if even touching his entire hand would have been too much.

"I will miss you sorely when you are gone, Davos." Stannis' voice was quiet, secretive almost, there was a hint of shame in it. Yet he had still said it, and Davos knew him well enough to appreciate the words.

"I will not be gone for long, my lord."

I will never leave you for long, never for longer than you can spare me.

Stannis' fingers tightened around his before he let go and turned away. Davos nodded quietly as Stannis ordered him to return later that night and left him to go back to his study. He leant against the heavy window frame, where Stannis had been standing before. The window was facing South, towards Storm's End. Towards Cape Wrath. Towards Marya.

He missed her now, but he knew he would miss Stannis just as much once he was home. Much like with his marriage, it was more than only duty that bound him to his lord. Stannis should know that, but Davos needed to remind him every once in a while that, unlike Selyse, he would always do more than only his duty.