Among ships, ropes, and seagulls they stood. Davos Seaworth and his son. Saying their last goodbye. The air smelled of the sea, like salt, fish guts, and tar. Around them were the noises of the men of the sea. Hollering, pulling, and running. Men just like Davos.

The sea had been his home. The sea had been his friend. The sea had been his fortune.

But the sea had also taken his son Mathos from him. And now it was about to take Devan away too.

Not to die among the waves, but take him to distant northerly shores. Perhaps never to return.

"You can have a moment alone," Brienne said to Davos and backed off a few feet away. Compassionate and just, as always. She didn't want this, Davos knew that. But she was too honorable and dutiful to walk away.

Devan looked down at the ground still. His whole body shivered. He hadn't said anything the whole time they walked down to the harbor. So unlike the confident and charismatic self, he had been just a week ago. Now terrified and muted.

Davos didn't say anything either. He just put his arms around his son and held him. Rocking him back and forth, just like he had done when Devan was just a baby.

Devan smelt of dirt and sweat. The smell of a man. But underneath it, Davos could still feel the faint smell of the boy Devan used to be. The little boy he had left behind and let down.

From the moment Devan was born he had been... well, Devan. Born with a full head of hair, lungs that could scream for hours, and an insatiable appetite. He had started to walk much earlier than Mathos, before he was even a year old, probably in an attempt to follow his four years older brother on adventures. And followed Mathos he had, to the older boy's chagrin. Devan had followed his brother everywhere. Often getting himself into situations Mathos or Davos had to save him from.

But Davos couldn't save Devan from this.

Perhaps it was in the name. Davos had named his second son after his own older brother. His brother Devan had joined the merchant fleet at a young age. Going off to sea never to return again. Lost forever. Probably resting on the bottom of the ocean somewhere. Davos had himself become a sailor in an attempt to find his brother. But his brother Devan never came home, and perhaps his son Devan wouldn't either.

Sometimes Davos wondered why his wife had let him name all their boys. Mathos after his father. Devan after his brother. Stannis after the man he served. And Steffon as a dedication to the Stormlands, it was a common name in the lands and in the Baratheon family. Perhaps Marya had waited for them to have a girl to name.

Marya had always wished for girls. Because girls don't die in war. Girls don't get sent to the wall. Girls don't leave their parents too soon.

He knew his wife loved their boys. As much as any mother could. But he also knew that she'd been preparing to lose them from the day they were born.

They had already lost one. Now they were about to lose another.

Not to death. But to distance. A distance too far to bridge.

Devan still hadn't said anything. But he cried.

His tears soaked through the fabric of Davos' jacket. Tears of relief for not dying, but also of fear about what would happen to him now.

His hands were desperately clinging to his father. Not wanting to let go.

It wasn't long ago since Davos had to force his son to hug him.

Finally, the boy spoke.

"Tell Brynda I love her," he said "And mother, and Stannis, and Steffon. You'll go to them now, won't you, father?"

"I will," Davos said. "And I will tell them all you love them."

Devan nodded between his sobs. "You need to stay with them," he said. "Steffon... he's still so young. He can still grow up with a father."

"I will stay with them, son," Davos said. "I promise. I won't ever leave again."

This made Devan cry even harder. "I wish...," he said. "I wish I could be there too. That we could all be together."

Davos released his embrace slightly and put his hands on each side of his son's face. He looked into Devan's eyes, they looked so much like Mathos eyes. The son he had lost. But this son was not lost. Davos refused to believe he was. Not forever. Just for a while.

"Son," he said. "This is not the end. Life is long. Remember that. We will all be together one day."

As long as there was life, there was hope. And Devan was still alive.

He put his hand up to Devan's hair and pulled his fingers through it. making it stand up like it usually did. A faint smile reached his son's lips.

"Your hand is not a hairbrush," he said. "That's what you told me."

"Well it's not," Davos replied. "Hopefully they have hairbrushes up north."

Devan looked down again. Seemingly once again struck by the reality of what was happening to him. He was being sent away. Far far away from everything and everyone he had ever loved.

"There's just snow and coldness up there from what I've heard," he said.

"I've been up there," Davos said, trying to reassure his son. "It's not that bad. There are some good men there too. Jon Snow is there. He'll take care of you. Tell him you're my son and he will."

Devan nodded, but the frown on his face told Davos that he wasn't convinced that it wasn't that bad up north.

"I need to take him away now," Brienne said, suddenly standing next to Davos again. He hadn't noticed her walking up as he had been so focused on his son.

Davos leaned over towards his son again and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Remember, this is not the end," he said. "One day...".

Devan reached his hand out and took his father's hand. "One day..." he said.

Then he was gone. Pulled away from his father's arms. Sent to lands so far away.

But one day they would all be together again. Devan, Stannis, Steffon. Marya. Davos. And Mathos.

***

Once the ship taking Devan away had set sail Davos returned to the Baratheon camp, accompanied by Brienne. Gendry put his arm around his friend as he walked in.

Meera was beside her husband. Their hands intertwined. Something seemed different about them. Like they were even closer than before. Davos wondered what the king had told them. He would have to ask later.

"Is Devan on that ship?" Gendry asked.

Davos nodded, his head still against Gendry's shoulder.

"Good," Gendry said. "Then he's safe. He's alive. Jon will take care of him."

Davos leaned back from the embrace. "His mother... his brothers," he said. "They don't know. I need to tell them."

Gendry put his hand on Davos' shoulder. "You'll come with me to Storm's End then?" he asked.

"I will," Davos said. "It's time. It's my responsibility to tell them, not yours. I didn't tell them about Mathos myself. But I need to tell them this time. And where else would I go anyway?"

"You know there's always room for you in my castle."

Gendry turned to Brienne, who stood a bit to the side of them as they talked.

"You know you can come with me to the Stormlands too, Ser Brienne," he said. "Your family has taken refuge at my castle."

She shook her head decisively. "I swore an oath," she said. "I swore to protect the innocent and weak."

"The king doesn't care about the innocent and weak," Gendry replied.

"I know. And that's why I need to stay. Podrick died today to protect someone who was innocent. If he hadn't been there Devan would have died. If I stay perhaps I can save someone as well. There needs to be someone in that castle upholding justice and truth."

Neither Gendry and Davos could refute that. "If you ever change your mind," Gendry said. "You're always welcome at Storm's End. We fought side by side once, we can do it again."

Brienne gave him a nod and a hint of a smile before she turned around and walked back towards the capital. To uphold justice and truth. The last defender of those values.

Gendry couldn't stop her. And in the end, he would be glad he didn't. Because on the last day, when everything fell, Brienne would come to protect the innocent and weak. She would save his children.

***

Two days later Davos stood in the courtyard at Storm's End. He had been there before. When he served under Stannis Baratheon.

Everything was so different now. The castle looked the same but the circumstances had changed.

He looked around for his family. He wasn't even sure he would recognize them after this long. If they would recognize him.

Then he saw her. Marya. She looked the same. And he felt the same.

Dammit, he loved that woman.

Beside her stood their two boys. So much bigger now than when he left. Steffon had barely been more than a toddler then. And Stannis had been about the age Steffon was now. Just a child then, now almost a man.

There was also a young woman. Tall with blonde hair. Davos assumed that was Brynda.

He walked up towards them. Surprise and confusion were on his wife's face as she recognized him. A hint of a smile.

"Husband," Marya said. "I knew you would be back eventually."

"Dear wife," Davos replied. "I've missed you."

Her eyes darted around the courtyard again. He knew who she was looking for.

"Where is Devan?" she asked with concern on her face.

Davos took a deep breath. And then he told her. He told them all.

Afterward, he looked down at the ground. Worried about his wife's reaction. Would she cry? Would she berate him?

Marya did neither of those things. Instead, she put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

"Devan's still alive," she said. "Because you saved him."

"He is," Davos said. "And we can get still get him back. One day."

He heard sobs next to him and looked up slightly. The young woman with the blonde hair had sunk down on the ground. Stannis stood above her and held her and patted her hair. That boy had always been thoughtful, more concerned about others than himself.

Marya let go of Davos and bent down on the ground as well. Trying to console the young woman.

"It'll be alright, sweetheart," he heard his wife say. "Devan's not dead."

"You're Brynda, right?" Davos said, crouching down beside the girl.

She nodded through the sobs.

"Devan told me... before they put him on that ship he told me to tell you... that he loves you."

"Thank you," she said, the sobs now growing even louder. "I... I love him too. But I never told him that."

He placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to easer her sorrow somehow.

Then Davos felt a pair of arms around his neck. The small arms of a child. His own child.

Davos almost lost his balance as Steffon threw himself on his father. He had to sit down on the ground not to fall backward. Steffon quickly curled up in his lap.

"Father," the boy said. "You're finally back."

"I am," Davos said. "Do you even remember me?"

The boy nodded slightly. "I remember you used to hold me," he said. "When I was little."

"You're still little, aren't you?"

Steffon looked perturbed. "I'm almost ten," he said.

"Of course," Davos said and ruffled the boy's hair lightly. "But you're still my little boy."

"I guess I can be that," Steffon said and leaned his head on Davos's chest.

The boy was perhaps a bit too heavy to have in his lap, but Davos didn't complain. He had missed so much of his sons' childhoods that he reveled every moment he could still savor.

And for the first time in years, Davos cried. He cried for Mathos. He cried for Devan. He cried for Shireen. He cried for everything that had been lost to war and games.

He nuzzled his nose into Steffon's hair as the tears flowed. Just like he did with Devan when they said goodbye. His hair was dark blond and messy, just like Devan's. But Steffon didn't smell like a man, he smelled like a boy. Like playing in high grass and climbing trees.

Mathos was dead. Devan was gone. And Stannis appeared to be almost grown. But Steffon was still there. He was still a child.

It wasn't over. He could still be a father to Steffon.

And he could still get Devan back.