Author's Note: Sequel to We Don't Bleed When We Don't Fight and prequel to Say Goodbye to the World You Thought You Lived In. But it works fine as a stand-alone piece, you don't have to read the other two. I mentioned it only for timeline and continuity sake. Thanks again everyone for reading and leaving a review : )

It had been a sad feast for a child's nameday, even Stannis had to admit. The Great Hall had been as silent as a tomb, without even Patchface's senseless singing and dancing. The fool had been laid down by a fever, and was confined to his room. Shireen had smiled and curtsied gracefully as the assembled lords and knights presented their gifts, but Stannis could see how fixed her smile was. A trained smile, as if it was her duty. She is only a child, he thought. Why would she think it is her duty to smile and pretend to be happy?

He remembered Myrcella smiling during her nameday feast. Myrcella giggling at Tommen's expression after he had his first sip of wine. Myrcella's laughter, ringing loud and clear, as she watched Robert making funny faces.

Perhaps if Shireen had a father like Robert, she would not have been such a sad child, he thought.

But Robert is not Myrcella's father. Or Tommen's. Or Joffrey's.

You don't know that, a skeptical voice in his head intruded.

I saw the way Jaime and Cersei looked at each other. And the hair. Lannister hair. Golden lions. They are not stags.

Speculation. Without proof. Robert would never believe it. That voice again.

Robert would never believe it coming from me anyway.

And how do you know what that look meant anyway? You who have never looked at any woman with love. The voice would not stop doubting him, questioning him. His own voice. His own doubts and questions.

"My lord?"

He was astonished to find Davos standing next to him. He had not heard his steps coming up the stairs.

"Have you grown weary of the feast as well, Ser Davos?"

"No, my lord. I thought perhaps ... you have need of me, of my counsel. At least the Maester seems to think so."

Stannis had avoided Cressen's questioning glances since he arrived at Dragonstone three days ago. Of course the old maester would know something was on his mind.

But he was not ready to share his suspicion with anyone, until there was some way of proving it. Not with Cressen, not even with Davos. Not yet anyway.

Why is Davos even here? Should he not be with his family? The thought suddenly occurred to Stannis. Davos' wife, with their two youngest boys had arrived from Cape Wrath yesterday.

"Are Lady Marya and the boys still at the feast?"

"No, my lord. They have gone back to our rooms."

"Should you not be with them, then?"

Davos looked uncomfortable. "Well, Marya probably wants some time alone with Devan. They have not seen each other for months."

"And you do not want some time alone with ... the boys?" It still seemed strange to Stannis that Davos had named his two youngest sons Steffon and Stannis, after his late father and himself. He had merely nodded when Davos had asked for permission each time, it seemed churlish to say no.

What is it he calls them? Steff and Stanny?

He knew that his mother had called his father Steff, in the privacy of their room. But he could not imagine anyone calling him Stanny.

Nor would I allow it.

"Well, the older boys are with them. Steff and Stanny are less ... shy when I am not around. They should have some time together, just brothers."

They were men, really, Davos' four older sons, not boys. Dale, the eldest, the one who reminded Stannis of his onion knight the most, had been the captain of Wraith almost two years now. Maric was the oarmaster on Stannis' galley Fury, and Matthos served his father on Black Betha.

And Allard, the second-born, the rash, stubborn one Davos worried about the most; Stannis had just given him the captaincy of Lady Marya. He wondered if it was a decision he would come to regret. The previous captain had strongly recommended Allard, and Stannis himself could see that Allard was more than capable. But the boy could be stubborn and willful, Stannis knew that as well.

His father is stubborn and willful as well, only he is better at cloaking it, Stannis thought, as he watched Davos looking out the window, his eyes clouded with worry.

Even Davos has his troubles with his family, Stannis realized. The thought was disquieting. He had always assumed, watching Davos with Devan, Matthos, Maric, Allard and Dale, that everything was as it should be, between father and sons, a harmonious family.

But Davos was also an absent father to his two youngest. An absent husband to his wife.

They are miles and miles away from him, in Cape Wrath, while he labors here for me.

Distance, he thought, is a destructive force. Not only for the man who was by nature as cold as ice, but also for the possessor of a warm and loving heart.

"How can I be of service, my lord?" Davos cleared his throat, after he noticed Stannis staring at him, embarrassed to be caught in a daze.

Stannis pondered what he should say. There are things I need to know, that only you can tell me. Of the two people I trust most, you are the one who has known love, who married for love. Who has known women at all. Cressen could not help me with this.

He did not say any of those things. Instead, he asked Davos if he would like some wine. Davos was taken aback, he saw, but covered it with a nod and a quick 'yes' and 'thank you my lord'.

He poured wine in one of the goblets, and lemon water for himself. And heard Davos' voice.

"Will you not drink with me, my lord? In honor of your daughter's nameday."

It will make Davos feel more at ease to speak freely if I am drinking wine as well, he thought. He poured wine into another goblet, just a small amount. He passed the goblet filled to the brim to Davos.

"Lady Marya seems well."

For a moment, Davos looked confused. Does he think I'm talking about the ship? Your wife, Davos, I'm asking about your wife!

How do other men do this? Stannis despaired. Small talk, chattering about family, wife, children.

"Yes, she is very well, my lord. Missing Devan and the older boys, of course. But looking after the keep and Steff and Stanny keeps her busy."

"She must be missing her husband too." He spitted out the words as quickly as he could, before he had second thoughts.

Davos did not seem to notice anything was amiss. He smiled.

"Well, I hope so, my lord. I certainly miss her. Every day that we are apart."

He marveled at how easily Davos made that confession, with no trace of embarrassment in his voice, or on his face. Only joy. Only love.

We are truly different breeds of men, you and I, Ser Davos. I wonder what kept us close for so long.

He took a sip of wine, to calm his nerves for the next question he needed to ask.

"And what was it that made you -"

The sound of footsteps running up the stairs distracted Stannis from finishing his question. A child's footsteps, from the sound of it. No, two children. They should not be running on the stairs.

The sound of the running footsteps ended abruptly, followed by a knock on the door.

"My lord? May we come in?" It was Devan's voice. He had told Devan that he had no need of his service tonight. What was he doing here? And who was with him?

"Yes. Come in," he snapped.

Devan walked in first, followed by Shireen, of all people. Devan seemed surprised to find his father there.

"I told you I do not need you to squire for me tonight. Or tomorrow. Did you forget?"

Devan was looking down at his feet, not meeting Stannis' eyes. "No, my lord. Only ... I thought, perhaps, you might need something, and I should ask anyway."

He's lying, Stannis thought, that is not why he's here. This was not a boy who told lies, what could possibly made him tell an untruth now?

The girl standing behind him, Stannis finally realized. My daughter. Devan is here because Shireen wants to see her father. And she is too afraid of her father to come here on her own.

The world would have been better off had I not fathered any children, he thought. This child would have been better off fathered by another man. What have I done to her?

"Why are you not in bed, Shireen?"

She hesitated, before a look from Devan seemed to steel her resolve. "You have not given me your gift, father. For my nameday."

"But I did. We did, your mother and I, at the feast."

"That was not from you. It was from mother. She chose it. I saw."

Her blue eyes were staring at him. Eyes filled with ... hope? Disappointment? Anger? He could not say. A measure of how little he knew this child.

I will not lie to her, he told himself. Whatever else I am not capable of giving my daughter - tenderness, affection - she will always have the truth from me. Always.

"Forgive me, Shireen, I don't have anything -"

"He does not have it with him here, my lady. Your lord father has forgotten to bring your gift back from King's Landing." Davos' interruption shocked him. He turned to stare at Davos.

All their years together made words redundant at this moment.

I thought you believe in telling the hard truths, Ser Davos.

Davos did not flinch under Stannis' withering gaze. Hard truths are for stubborn and bull-headed men, his own gaze seemed to be saying. Not a sad child on her nameday.

Stannis had no reply to that. Judge me all you want, Davos. When it comes to my daughter, I deserve all your scorn, and much much more.

He turned to look at his daughter once again. She did not seem convinced that there was a gift waiting for her at King's Landing from her father.

But Shireen was also a girl trained in courtesy and kindness, so she did not challenge Davos' words. She smiled, and said, "You can bring it back on your next trip home, father. But I have something for you."

"For me? But it is not my nameday."

"It's for you, so you can give me the gift I really want."

"Oh?"

It was a writing set, two quills and parchments. She presented it to him so formally, as if she was presenting a gift to a king, not to her father. "So you can write to us more often, mother and me, when you're at King's Landing," she said.

Coming from anyone else, he would have taken it as a rebuke, a mark against him, against his thoughtlessness towards his family. But she was only a child.

Guileless eyes looking at him. "Will you do it, father? Will you write to us more often?"

My child. My daughter. My blood. What should I tell you? Promises I might not keep? Sweet words to put a smile on your face now, but that will hurt you later?

He resisted the urge to look to Davos for help.

"I will ... try, Shireen," he finally said.

"Thank you, father." She gave him a kiss on the cheek, as quick and fleeting as the wind.

Stannis noticed Devan standing close to the door, looking guilty and miserable. Poor boy, he thought. Caught between the father and the daughter.

"So did Devan give you anything for your nameday?" He asked.

A big smile from Shireen, a genuine one this time, not the fixed smile she had on during the feast.

"Yes! A story. He gave me a story."

"A story?"

"A story he wrote. Like a book, only not so long. Just a few pages." She giggled.

"And what is the story about?"

"It's about a girl who was afraid of dragons. So she learned from books and the maesters how to defeat them, and she trained with the master-at-arms, and when she grew up, she slew the dragons, to protect her family," Shireen turned to look at Devan, before she continued, "and her friends."

This is about her dreams, Stannis thought. Her nightmares of the stone dragons coming alive and eating her. Curious that Devan had not cast himself as the dragon-slayer in the story. Wasn't that the stuff of every boy's dream? Slaying dragons and rescuing maidens?

Not this boy, apparently. This boy who was blushing so hard, his face so red at the moment.

"That sounds interesting. Perhaps you could read it to me tomorrow? That is, if Devan has no objection?"

"Yes father, I will read it to you."

"No, my lord, of course I do not have any objection."

They answered simultaneously, their words tumbling over one another. They giggled. Just children after all.

"Now go to bed, both of you. And no running on the stairs."

They both nodded, and were gone from the room, quick as lightning. He almost felt like smiling.

Davos' glum expression came as a surprise.

"What is it now? What hard truths do you need to tell me now, Ser Davos?"

"No, my lord. It is not that. I have to apologize for my son's behavior. That was very improper of Devan. It was not his place to give Lady Shireen a gift. Or to ... laugh with her, like he is her equal."

"If I am the kind of man concerned about nobility and family history, do you think I would have made you my most trusted advisor? Go home ser, be with your family. We will speak later."

"Yes, my lord."

Stannis pondered Devan's story, after Davos left. It is not really about slaying dragons, he thought. After all, dragons had been extinct for hundreds of years. It was about conquering your fear.

Shireen had conquered her fear, fear of her father, to ask from him something she needed.

Am I the dragon? In Shireen's eyes? In Devan's? He wondered.

He put the thought aside. It was time he conquered his own fear. Fear of knowing the truth, about Jaime and Cersei, about Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. He resolved to speak to Jon Arryn as soon as he got back to King's Landing.