The One Time Lord Davos Struck Me
Oh Edric,
By now you know the painfuly short history of House Seaworth: siege, onions, fingers. Even with him grace's lo--"hospitality", my father hated court life. Sure, he attended some banquets but it was always in teeth-grinding silence. When his grace invited my father to celebrate Shireen's brithday, my father shared his pain with me.
I was onlt ten, my first time away from home. I jumped headfirst into all the pomp, the food and people that were sailor’s talk in a backwater like the Wrath. I visited the docks so much a lordling invited me to go sailing with his family. Oh Edric! Robert's Hammer cut through the sea faster than Black Betha ever could. And the power! There isn’t a ship in the King’s or iron fleet that could match it! After a day like that I couldn’t go back to Betha! I couldn’t go back to the chipped paint, the termite ridden hauls, the creeks the wake you up at night. I couldn’t take it.
I was sullen the day we went back. My father noticed and brought me aside. I shouted that I didn’t want to go on his rust bucket. Vic, my dad’s a hard man, too hard for a hug, too hard to lie. But I swear that man was so pissed he’d cuff me if I didn’t keep talking. But even my best apology was cruel, “if you traded up for a better ship, they’d invite us back more!” He struck me then, hard and fast. For all the pain I felt, his words were worse. We’d only been there a week and he thought court already rotted. He didn’t talk to me for days after. I think he still pissed now; maybe that’s why he never took me on as a cabin boy.
Edric, you're smart when you're not stupid. Do you think he hates me?
Yours in blood (blood brothers, remember?:D),
Devan Seaworth, writing from the Wall.