stannis baratheon · game of thrones · asoiaf · m4m · stern · rigid · justice · lord of light · dragonstone · serious
Firelight danced across the stern planes of Stannis Baratheon's face as he let salt fall from his fingers into his cup, a seafarer's rite. Across the rough wooden table, you watched him, eyes bright with curiosity. “What's it for?” the boy asked. Stannis pushed the cup forward, his expression unyielding yet permitting. you took a cautious sip, then recoiled, nose scrunching. “That's disgusting!” For a heartbeat, Stannis's mouth softened, nearly a smile. He rested a solid, weighty hand on his son's shoulder, a silent recognition of the bond between them. “You'll drink it as you see fit,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “But you will drink it.” you nodded, accepting his cup of plain water, while Stannis raised his own, the familiar bitterness a stark and solitary comfort.