Chapter 52Notes:Hey guys! So I have a ton going on tomorrow, so it's going to take me a bit longer to reply to all your comments. I can't wait to hear your thoughts! I just have to run like four errands and have a shit ton of paperwork at work to do. So don't worry if it takes me a day or two to get to you.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextDaisy knew something was vaguely up when the various members of the Order avoided her eyes as she walked back towards her room. But well with the Order, it was as likely to be someone had ruined something and they were hiding it while she was there and planning on fixing it desperately as soon as she wasn't present as anything else. So she ignored it, nobody was acting squirrely or panicked so whatever it was wasn't bad. It'd been a long day of helping bake bricks for the roads being put in to help the army and goods travel northward.
She could feel her muscles relaxing as she reached her bedroom door. This place was beginning to feel as much like home as anyplace ever came to feel. Also, she was a big fan of warming pans and the practice of servants preheating the bed for her. She was buying a heating pad and sticking it in her bunk the day she got back. A prospect she was..less anxious for the longer she spent here.
Daisy was halfway through the door when the reality of what, or rather who was in her room dawned on her. She'd absently felt the vibrations of humans, but it wasn't out of the norm for some noble to be waiting for a word with her. Or if some issue with the Order had come up that they felt should be kept fairly private. Especially if they'd cornered Joran. However six very, very! scantily clad individuals were unexpected.
She blinked. "Holy shit."
The six individuals in her room were a mix of body types. There were three women, actually, Daisy recognized two of them from the brothel. She had gone to the tavern with Greatjon Umber too much she decided right then and there. The three barely clothed men were something of a surprise. Between the six of them, they represented a fairly wide range of physical types and colorings. The very scantily clad blonde woman sauntered forward. "We've been expecting you, your Holiness." Her voice was at a damned purr.
Daisy held up a hand in the universal sign of stop. Closing her eyes she physically pinched the bridge of her nose. "Right, no." She breathed out and opened her eyes. Unfortunately, the view hadn't changed. "Ok, let's start with what's your name?"
"Salna your Holiness." Salna managed to bat her eyelashes and quite frankly it wasn't ineffective.
She dropped a hand onto her hip. "This isn't going to happen. However, Salna you're senior here yes?"
"If it pleases you." Salna replied with that damned purr still.
Christ, it'd definitely been too long if this was doing anything other than making her feel incredibly awkward. Thankfully it was almost entirely just awkward. "Who arranged….this?"
"We're here for your pleasure Holiness, is who arranged this gift what you wish to speak of?" She offered, her hand motions bringing attention very specifically to her breast. That was impressively casual looking for a deliberate move.
Daisy settled, her surprise nearly completely faded now. "Not that all of you aren't very attractive people, but I'm not interested." She let her voice hold an even strength that served as a faint warning. Getting groped was not on her agenda for the day. "So, who paid you?"
Salna clearly took the warning, her posture changing ever so faintly. "Lord Baelish wished to pay homage to you, your Holiness."
"Well that makes sense, should have seen that coming." Daisy huffed. "Right, could all of you just put on some actual clothes because it's way too cold for you to have worn that all the way here. And then I'll have some of the Order escort you back to your homes. You did get paid upfront right?"
The red-headed male prostitute spoke up. "Our time was purchased, though only those of us you might select to enjoy would earn our full costs." He definitely had stretched to make his torso appear more appealing. Which, dude was ripped. Actually looked kinda like a ripped male version of Sansa. It wasn't subtle, now that she was thinking about it.
"I'll see to it you are paid properly for your time and no harm comes to you because I'm not interested." She winced, this was worse than turning down some idiot in a bar…so much worse. "But I'm not going to take any of you to bed. Once you're decent one of the Order will be waiting for you."
Daisy spun on her heel and shut the door behind her as she bravely fled the fucking insanity that was apparently her bedroom. Her eyes narrowed as she noted the oddly empty floor.
Striding down to the next floor she raised an eyebrow at the various Order members suddenly avoiding eye contact desperately. "Right, someone is going to go up there and is going to escort the individuals in my room back to wherever it is they live." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Safely and respectfully. And the next time I find a naked prostitute in my room, whoever let them in will run until they puke, and then they'll run some more. Got it?"
"Yes!" Everyone half tripped over themselves to reply, eyes wide in panic.
She sighed. "And I'm not mad at any of you, or the people just doing their jobs upstairs. However, not my thing, just...just no." She glanced upstairs...yeah she wasn't going up there till it was taken care of, cause Yikes! "I'm going to go now, no surprises in my room when I get back, please." And then she fled.
Daisy had been planning on sleeping early, baking bricks, and helping with road clearing was...kinda tiring. However, that was out now. Jon the lucky bastard definitely was happily asleep missing the latest small council meeting. So, if she wasn't sleeping then Baelish was having a shitty night too. And she knew exactly where to find him.
Her strides were even and long as she made her way to the small council chambers. As she moved she carefully vibrated the air around her, just enough to make it noticeable to anyone within twelve feet of her. She was making a point before the idiot Lords of the North decided to do something she'd have to slap them for. She may not be able to do anything about her deeply inconvenient feelings, but she could put the fear of god into some old men to keep them in line for Sansa.
The effect on the various courtiers and men at arms and servants, and various persons about the halls of Winterfell was immediate. Deep and retiring bows of the head, desperate avoidance of eye contact, and shuffling out of the way as quickly as possible. The sudden speeding up of the heart rates of every person she passed was…kind of hilarious frankly. It's not like she'd been smiting people left, right, and center. But well, impressions and all that.
Daisy spotted her own man Seth guarding the door into the small council chamber. She noted he was paling. Her lips twitched up as she brushed past him. And well, she winked at him before her face settled again as she opened the door with her powers.
"Daisy." Sansa looked up from the map she was leaning over. The exhaustion of two days arguing over what to do about Dragonstone was apparent, though she was hiding it well. Her eyes sharpened as she registered the projection of powers and Daisy's stance.
She'd communicate what she was about to do to Sansa if she could, but timing was important and this needed to happen before the entire small council, or well the named small council and various important men who Sansa desired advice from. Tonight it was nearly two dozen men, which was excellent. Instead of speaking first her eyes snapped from Sansa to Petyr fucking Baelish. When her voice did come out, it came out cold. "Lord Baelish."
"Your Holiness." Baelish gave a slight bow. And oh that smug smirk on his face. She really wanted to slap it off. "I trust you found my gift?"
She really wished he wasn't important to Sansa's political goals. If anyone deserved to be paste it was him.
His face flinched as he straightened, hand waving with his words. "Of course, if it was not to your taste I apologize. I've so recently arrived if I misjudged your tastes I can only beg forgiveness."
And well, he was good at lying. Unfortunately, his hand waving had been a mistake. It was hardly more than a flick of her hand to grab his hand, and then she bent.
He dropped to his knees with a sharp cry of pain. After all, it was bend or let the fingers snap. And she'd have snapped them.
"Let's not lie, shall we. You decided to offer me whores for many reasons, none of which were as a simple gift. And you thought if you'd miscalculated they'd pay the price, not you." Daisy was frankly disgusted by the man but ensuring he was reminded that some games weren't worth it wasn't the entire point of this performance. "You seem to have failed to put the pieces together very well. You have to know I grew up thinking I was human, and I grew up on the street. While I never was forced to that profession, what makes you think I hold anything but respect for prostitutes and anything but disgust for whoremongers?"
The room was dead silent, Baelish winced as he looked up at her. "I meant no offense."
"Yes you did, or else you were stupid. I think we both know which it was." She tilted her head to the side as stared down at him, her expression snide. "Do you think it's hard for me to find someone to have sex with if I want? I could walk out of this room and find someone before I was even out of the keep with my eyes closed. Doubt I'd even have to leave this room. If I wanted some random roll in the hay I could do that."
And fuck it, Daisy was actually furious about it. Because she could guess at several reasons that had likely led to the damned situation. A test of her character, an assumption of powerful people being weak to cheap pleasures, a gambit to see what she'd do, an attempt to gain leverage, ingratiation, and probably a dozen others as well. But principally it was about testing how serious her courtship of Sansa was. He was seeing how much she cared.
Daisy tossed his hand to the side, releasing him in disgust. "What I find attractive in another person is something you could never buy or sell: integrity, resilience, courage, strength, kindness, idealism. And you and every other idiot in this castle can stay out of it. Because Sansa can say no, that's her right. And if she says yes it will be because she truly means it, not because she was forced into it. Cause it'd mean nothing if she was forced to. I'm happy being her friend, it's not some consolation prize. She's not a thing to be possessed or used. She's a person with free will. Hell, she could change her mind no matter what she decides and that'd be fine too. So go pay the people you hired, more than you promised them, and if you try something like this again I'll break every bone in your body."
Baelish rubbed at his hand while looking up at her. "As you wish your Holiness." He started to rise.
Her eyes narrowed, her powers forcing him to stay down. "We have more in common than I think either of us would like to think Baelish. But we're very different in quite a few ways. Your information, connections, wealth, that's all power. In some ways more useful power than any physical destruction, I could perform with a flick of my fingers. Don't waste it with pointless games involving me or the Queen again. I'll be less forgiving next time."
Looking away from him she met the looks from the rest of the very pale and cowed looking Lords. She met Sansa's eyes and gave her a sharp nod. Sansa could work with that, and use it to tell anyone pressuring her to do anything about the whole courtship thing to fuck off. "Sorry for interrupting."
"There's nothing to apologize for." Sansa had the oddest expression on her face as she stood there, that certain nobility to her posture that never seemed to leave it. And the sad or maybe funny thing was Daisy had meant every word. Sansa was all those things, and she was deserving of every choice, and her friendship wasn't a consolation prize in the least.
////
Petyr Baelish's first stop after waking in the soft morning light had been to pay the whores. A thing he did handsomely. Oh, they may not have fucked their resident god, but they'd done more than he had hoped. He'd poked the beehive and the swarm had come out. It'd been glorious, of course, he'd have rather not been forced to kneel, but it was a small inconvenience all told.
He flexed his hands inside of his gloves, it really was bitingly cold here. Terrible bit of country for all it was useful. He'd have to have additional outer garb made for himself. His second stop had been to acquire the finest quill from his own baggage. And well, then this cold walk towards the God's Tower. He'd suspected the woman styling herself as a god, or perhaps actually one, had a brain. It was gratifying to know he'd been right. Intelligent pieces were always so much more useful.
"You there." He caught the attention of the Order member just exiting the tower.
The boy straightened, his shaggy brown hair half fell in his eyes. On second look he was missing an arm, his Order gambeson sleeve neatly pinned out of the way. "Did you need something M'Lord?" His bearing was closed off.
Petyr didn't let the faint disrespect bother him. It was to be expected. "Is her Holiness still in the tower? Proper apologies to be made, I'm sure you understand. "
It was clearly the right thing to say, a faint softening to the boy, though he still appeared faintly suspicious. "Aye, she's helping with some reading lessons. Fifth floor, can't miss it."
"I'll remember your aid, good man." He would get one of the Order into his service eventually. It might take time, but it'd be worth it. Good impressions now were everything, that and wealth.
Petyr found the tower disquieting in what it said about its mistress. He could have guessed at what he found, but people who didn't value wealth, finery, or any of life's finer pleasures were rarely corruptible. Everyone may have their weak spots, but the low hanging fruit was so much easier. Still, it wasn't like he needed another weak spot. This god had advertised her soft spot. The political show she'd given the night before said it wasn't lust, it wasn't boredom, it wasn't fancy, it was love she held for Sansa Stark. The only reason for that show was to give Sansa power both within her own council and over the god herself in their relationship. No one did something that stupid without being in love.
As he moved through the tower everything about its layout and what was valued said soldier. If anything could have told him this god grew up a commoner as she claimed this tower was proof of it. It was laid out for the comfort of the men, with an eye to the practicalities needed for a soldier and without care for any privilege beyond a strange preoccupation with cleanliness.
The fifth floor was lined with desks and writing equipment. Six men and a woman were carefully writing on cheap paper under the watchful eye of a man using crutches. The god was bent over one of the men, laughter in her voice as she politely adjusted his grip on the quill. It was fascinating to watch in its genuineness.
Daisy looked up, whether she heard or sensed his presence was immaterial. She arched a single brow as she straightened, an amused expression on her face. And at that moment he knew every single implication of her behavior had been intentional. She knew exactly how the game was played. Her showing off her soft spot had been a threat. "Lord Baelish, feel free to drop whatever gift you brought as an excuse to be here on any of the tables."
"Well, I couldn't come empty handed could I, your Holiness?" He allowed himself the faintest of smirks. Oh, she would be fun, and a thousand times more useful than he could have hoped so long as their goals remained aligned close enough.
She huffed but didn't contradict him.
"Your Holiness, do you think the Lords of the North know what you did for their Queen with that performance last night? It was impressive. Truly, I'm impressed." He neatly ignored the Order members as he spoke.
She crossed her arms as she looked at him, unmistakable intelligence in her eyes. "It doesn't change if they do know." Daisy stared at him. "But let's be real clear, if you do anything to weaken Sansa's position, let alone harm a hair on her head and you won't survive. Whether you die of a tragic heart attack or are boiled alive from the inside out, won't really matter."
"We both want her Grace's reign to succeed and the army of the Dead to be defeated." Petyr was frankly exhilarated, the stakes had always been death. But wasn't that fascinating? An opponent who brandished their weakness and dared you to try.
Daisy couldn't have looked more disbelieving if she'd wanted. "And no other goals I'm sure."
"I can't imagine any goals that could rise above those two in any man's heart. Or yours, clearly. That was a brazen declaration of love you gave, truly a gesture for the songs. Honorable you wish for your love returned wholeheartedly or not at all. Few are so principled." He let the compliment that was also a criticism fall from his lips.
She flicked her fingers slightly. "It was necessary if you felt comfortable sending prostitutes to my quarters, you definitely talked to some of the others. And I felt some very guilty heartbeats last night. So I put an end to it." And oh she actually had been insulted by it, even if her response had been for the Queen.
"By giving our Queen complete control of your suit. Quite selfless." He pointedly waved his hand she'd used to force him to his knees. "I assume my humiliation made up for any insult I gave?"
"Please, if anything it helped you. Giving insult so newly arrived to the new god by giving the wrong gift. Then following my orders and paying those you hired before coming immediately to personally apologize. If you wanted to set yourself apart from the Stormlanders that would do it."
His mustache twitched faintly. "A fringe benefit I assure you." The true gift had been the measure of her character. So much power, so much idealism, so much confidence.
////
Wolkan stared at the message in his hands. As Maester his duty was to run the ravenry and bring and send messages to the master of the castle. Reading them was not. His mouth felt dry as he looked at the words on the paper. Sansa had handed it to him after reading it. She was silent as she waited, and so he read the message.
-"Queen Danaerys Targaryen, First of Her Name invites you to Dragonstone. My Queen commands the combined forces of Dorne and the Reach, an Ironborn fleet, legions of Unsullied, a Dothraki horde and three dragons. The Seven Kingdoms will bleed as long as Cersei sits on the Iron Throne. Join us. Together we can end her tyranny. I appeal to you, not as my former wife, but as one who knows my sister's cruelty well. My watch for your arrival begins.
Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the Queen"-
"Danaerys Targaryen then," Sansa said into the silence of the room.
He swallowed, his throat drier still. "The Dothraki don't cross oceans."
"They've crossed one now." Sansa's voice was dry. "I wonder if this war will be called the War for Dawn or the War of Three Queens? Perhaps both."
Wolkan looked at his Queen. "You're certain this is genuine then?"
"It's his hand, and only he would know what he told me on our wedding night." Her face was as readable as ice as she stared towards the fire. "No doubt in a week to two weeks' time a rider will arrive with a far longer and less friendly message directly from this Dragon Queen."
Wolkan frowned. "Less friendly?"
"She didn't come with an army and three dragons just to rule six of seven kingdoms." Sansa replied as if it was as obvious as the sky being blue. "Any plan to take Dragonstone in order to mine it for dragonglass is of course pointless now. A ghost crew of whatever men Stannis left behind would be one thing, the largest army in all of Westeros is another."
Wolkan accepted they would fight the dead with fire alone in that moment. "Well then, how are we to refuse?"
"Ignoring her might buy us the most time...though a diplomatic exchange could prolong negotiations long enough if this Queen is patient. I doubt it however, her House is not known for their even tempers and patience after all." Sansa tapped her fingers on the top of her desk. "I'll need to let the court know."
He bowed his head. "I'll see they're informed, your Grace."
"Thank you." She looked at him. "Do you think the gods make a mockery of us? Our enemies seem to ever multiply, and our fortunes turn bleaker with every victory."
Wolkan folded his hands into his sleeves, giving himself time to consider her words. "I think your Grace that the gods mayhap have thrown the dice and abandoned us to our fates. But the Old Gods at least gave us hope in this Long Night to come."
Her face softened, the faintest crinkle about her eyes. "I'm sure Daisy would be terribly uncomfortable if she was plainly told in what regard we hold her."
"Undoubtedly." He chuckled in amusement. "The longer I hold her acquaintance the more sure I am that this god was brought to us, not for her powers, but rather her capability to love."
The faintest hint of red rose to Sansa's pale cheeks. "Yes, well one only has to see her around a child to know that."
Wolkan wisely decided not to mention how that wasn't the example he'd been thinking of. Because he had no interest in rousing the anger of a god for touching the dynamic between their Queen and god. Instead, he changed the topic since it was one Sansa likely wished to end. "Should I send for your brother the Hand?"
Sansa breathed out. "No, give him the message however. I can hear his thoughts before the court in the morning. He deserves a chance at sleep tonight."
"As you say, your Grace." He bowed his head. "And if I may, you also require sleep occasionally."
She smiled faintly then. "I'll keep your advice in mind Maester."
"That is all I can ask then." He smiled at their Queen and then turned to see to his work.
Notes:Ok, so since we're at over twenty people bringing this up in the comments let's talk Dragonglass briefly so I can stop being haunted by it. The two points people keep coming up with are A. Why can't they just find dragonglass in the North, there are volcanos, clearly, there would be obsidian. And B. Why can't Daisy just melt some rocks into obsidian?
So A. Just because the North has it doesn't mean they have the extensive mining or ground surveying knowledge to know they have it. Also it's not totally clear whether dragonglass is separate from obsidian in some magical way. It's probably just obsidian? But that's not certain. So even if they dig up obsidian in the North there's no guarantee it'd even work against the zombies. Because it works because obsidian is magic in general or dragon fire magic makes rock effective against the dead. A thing we're never told and would be…jesus a massive world-building thing to decide and then narratively justify more than the show or books explain.
B. Daisy/Fitz have barely seen dragonglass at all. And so far all the words for physical materials have been pretty 1 for 1. They have no reason not to just assume dragonglass is a special dragon-made version of obsidian that is magical and thus not something Daisy, a very non-magical being, can just make. Not to mention if trees can be magical why not rocks?
And C. There is a sliding scale of plot hole to plot contrivance. The dragonglass is pretty solidly in plot contrivance land. But them only knowing about the shit at Dragonstone is canon, and plausible. Also, it's convenient to drive the plot and I have no interest in fixing every single plot hole, especially the ones that aren't even a plot hole, just an under-explained plot contrivance because the show runners were cowards who tried to cut out the magic in their dragon and zombie show. In the books we might get a cool thing where fire magic from dragons imbues rock with traits that defeat ice zombies fueled by The Great Other. Who knows. Or obsidian could end up just being magically significant like cause of the First Man/Old God magic. Idk. But it's not cannon yet, and the show's what I've got on it.
Chapter 53Notes:Hey guys! I'm on the weirdest shifts for the next couple days, so I'll get to al of your comments, just might take me a while again this week.
And uh...this chapter is a first for me. Like I don't normally write some types of scenes, but it was narratively called for so like..have fun?
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextSansa sat upon her throne in the King's Hall and looked out over her court, her lords and ladies sitting along the low benches running down the room. Their faces were grim; the news had been spread then. Dragons to the south, the Dead to the north, Cersei in-between, and Winter falling deeper every day. At least the arguments over whether they should turn their attention to the south would end. Even with the Vale, there was no force that could stand in the field against the Dragon Queen.
She stood from her throne, facing her court. "As no doubt, you have all heard, several messages have arrived in recent days." Sansa held up the message from Sam. "This is a message from Samwell Tarly. He is Maester for the Night's Watch, and his honesty is not in question. He writes to say that Dragonstone stands on a mountain of dragonglass."
The court was filled with mutterings, they knew what that meant. She and Jon had loudly proclaimed it was one of only three methods of killing the dead.
"This," She raised a second message, "Is from Tyrion Lannister." There were several cries out of disgust. Sansa narrowed her eyes, waiting for them to silence themselves. "He writes as Hand of the Queen, to Danaerys Targaryen. She's arrived on Dragonstone with a Dothraki horde, an army of Unsullied, an Ironborn fleet, and has met with the armies of Dorne, the Reach, as well as commanding her three dragons. She intends to take the Iron Throne and graciously summons me to Dragonstone. An action I will not be taking."
There was a round of 'Ayes' and agreeing bangs on the tables.
Sansa continued, the frenzied arguments that she had engaged in with her small council now needed to be laid out before the Lords of the North. "There has been a great deal of argument on whether we should turn our attention south in an attempt to secure dragonglass. Every route possible was examined, but with Dragonstone now held by a Targaryen with such a huge force at her command, that is now moot. This leaves us with the shield of winter and the Vale to protect our backs while we stand against the dead, armed with fire alone as our only effective weapon."
"We can no longer wait and hope for another option for fighting the dead to emerge." Sansa met her nobles' eyes. "We must begin our preparations in earnest, and without delay."
Jon stood up, his pin naming him her hand glinting upon his chest. "I will go to Dragonstone."
Sansa paused, staring at him in confusion, what was he doing? That would be suicide. "No one is going to Dragonstone."
"I mean no offense sister. But we need that dragonglass, we'll all die without it." Jon's face was grim, even if there was an apology there. "But not just that, we need allies."
The court was against it, there was outrage as men and women turned to bite out words of opposition to each other.
Jon held Sansa's gaze for a long moment, and then he was snapping his head around to bark out at the court. "We need this dragonglass, my Lords. We need to mine it and turn it into weapons. The Night King's army grows stronger by the day. We can't defeat them on our own. We don't have the numbers. Danaerys has her own army, the largest in Westeros if this message is to be believed, and she has dragon fire. I need to try and persuade her to fight with us. I will ride for White Harbor tomorrow, and then set sail for Dragonstone." He turned back to Sansa. "With your permission my Queen."
Sansa felt her facade of calm cracking. It was stupid, so incredibly stupid. She could wring his neck personally. "Have you forgotten what happened to our grandfather? The Mad King invited him to King's Landing and roasted him alive."
"I know that." His voice lowered, but the stubborn set of his shoulders remained. Even with the court making sounds of agreement with her.
Her voice was quick as she tried to force some common sense down her brother's throat before he could do something irreparable. "She is here to claim the Iron Throne and The Seven Kingdoms. The North is one of those kingdoms. This isn't an invitation, it's a trap. One meant for me to fall into, but which by your walking into will give her the pretense of my insult of sending you as a means to hold you. A convenient hostage until I bend the knee."
"It could be." Jon spoke over the Lords and their consensus. "But I don't believe Tyrion would do that. You know him, he's a good man."
Lord Royce stood, the bench sliding backward as he spoke. "Your Highness, with respect, I must agree with Queen Sansa. I remember the Mad King all too well. A Targaryen cannot be trusted. Nor can a Lannister." His face was unflinching before Jon's disappointment.
Starting up from the bench Lord Glover snapped at Jon. "We called your brother King and then he rode south and lost his kingdom."
"Winter is here your Highness." Lyanna Mormont spoke, standing with more strength than any child her age should hold. "We need the leader of our armies in the North."
Jon stood there waiting as the noise of the crowd's argument died down before speaking, appealing to the Lords. Clearly, he knew he needed their support to have a chance at forcing her hand into allowing this madness.
Sansa cursed herself for respecting the Northern court's custom of allowing its Lords a voice at times like this. To silence her brother would be to violate their own customs.
"I swore to protect the realms of men, I swore to protect my sister, and as Hand, I have sworn to lead the North against the dead. This is my home and I will never stop fighting for it, but the odds are against us." He sighed, the weight that had seemed to lift from his shoulders week by week settling back down over him. "None of you have seen the army of the dead. None of you. We can never hope to defeat them alone and with only fire. We need weapons. We need allies- powerful allies. I know it's a risk, but I have to take it."
"If you truly believe Tyrion means well, that this is a necessary risk then we send an envoy. I won't send my Hand and my brother into a possible trap. You are too important to this war to lose on mere hope."
Jon stood firm in front of her. "Daenerys is a Queen. As a member of our House, as a Prince of the North, and as your Hand, I might be able to convince her to help us in your place."
Her heart was in her throat and the words to accuse him of abandoning their people were on the tip of her tongue when Daisy stepped forward.
"I'll go with him." Daisy stood firm as the entire court froze in shock. She spoke easily as if she wasn't saying something entirely insane. "I've pledged to help in your fight against the dead, but I'm a god of destruction. My help could kill more than all the dead put together. Jon's not wrong you need allies. Nor that you need dragonglass. So I'll go with him. If it's a trap… let them try. I'll kill them all before they touch a hair on his head." Daisy gave a slight bow of her head towards Sansa.
And Sansa…how?... Her words stuck in her throat. She wanted to scream that they couldn't leave her, either of them. That she needed them. That it could go so horrifically wrong. That Starks were cursed and going south brought nothing but death and destruction to them. That she was the only Stark to survive going south and she hadn't done so unharmed. "And if this Targaryen is as mad as her father?"
"Then we bully them into filling our ship with dragonglass and we leave." Daisy gave a brief glance towards Jon. Whatever it communicated had him looking like he'd already won. "I'll bring your brother back to you even if I have to fly him back."
Jon spoke. "You don't need me to prepare the North. You're a better Queen than any. I will leave good men with instructions on how to aid you, but we need this if we mean to live. If I failed to do everything in my power to protect you and the North father's ghost would never give me peace."
The court was silent as they held each other's eyes. The last two grown Starks who still drew breath and they stood in opposition, truly opposed for the first time since they'd been reunited. Jon wouldn't bend on this. His heels were dug in and would not budge. And Sansa knew in her heart she would not have him dragged to the dungeons till he changed his mind, and it was the only method that would keep him here, where he belonged.
"Very well." And so Sansa bent. "But you leave in two days' time, with a proper envoy as befitting your position as my Hand and as a Prince of Winterfell. If we are to negotiate with a Targaryen then you will be prepared."
Jon bowed his head. "Thank you, your Grace."
Sansa wanted to stride across the room to punch him in the face for it. Her heart was still beating wildly against her chest because she was afraid and her idiot brother couldn't have done this privately. The absolute idiot. She would never speak against it, however. She'd seen what happened to rulers who didn't allow dissent in public. And she would not turn into a tyrant, no matter how terrified she was. No matter how every fiber of her being cried out at the wrongness of her brother leaving.
"Do you have to be this stubborn!" Sansa threw her hands up as she glared at her brother. "You have to be smarter than Robb, than Father. You can't just take Davos and a dozen men at arms with you!"
Jon didn't so much as flinch under her fury, it was irritating as hell. "I'm not taking your strongest supporters and more men than I have to with me."
"If we are going to attempt to negotiate with the Dragon Queen we are going to do it right while projecting strength. You would insult her and forecast weakness if you just show up with nothing but yourself and one Lord." Sansa reached up touching her forehead before breathing out, being angry with her brother did nothing. "You can still change your mind. Your place is here, in the North." 'With me' she left unsaid.
Jon shifted like he was resisting the need to reach out for her. "Sansa…it has to be done or we will all die."
"We could find a way." There had to be another way. Her fists clenched, her nails biting into her palms.
He softened as his stupid, big, sad eyes focused on her. "I'll be protected, I'll come back to you." He smiled sadly. "You don't need me here, you need me there getting dragonglass and hopefully an ally."
"Even if by some miracle you and Daisy convince this Targaryen to help and you get all of the dragonglass we can mine, you must know the peace will not last. You have to see that the peace will end the minute the Dead fall." Sansa hated that he wasn't necessarily wrong. They did need allies, just the Vale wasn't enough. They needed effective weapons beyond just fire.
He gave a slow nod. "I leave all that to you. I only know that if we don't do this, we will die."
"Listen to Daisy." Sansa swallowed, forcing her emotions back. "We'll talk tonight, but you will have an escorting company who are able to help you. And if Daisy tells you to do something, you do it. She knows how the game is played better than she's given credit for. Most of all, if she says run, you run."
Jon's teeth grit but he nodded. "Alright."
"Good." She moved to walk past him. If she stayed much longer in his presence then she'd say something stupid. Her anger should have faded by the small council meeting tonight. At least enough that she'd be able to be practical about it.
He caught her forearm. "I'm doing this for us, for our people."
"I know." She replied because she did. It didn't make it any better that he was going to leave her to walk into an obvious trap. Nothing could make that better.
Sansa was ignoring the silent presence of Loras behind her as she walked towards her private solar and chambers only to pause as she saw Daisy leaning against the wall waiting for her. "Daisy."
"Sup." Daisy winced. "Look, I'm sorry about sticking my nose into your whole political thing over the last couple of days. It has just been moving quickly and it was never a good time to check in with you. I'm sorry, it was shitty of me."
And...Sansa had no words for that. Of the myriad of things, she had wanted to speak of with Daisy, the concept of the woman owing her an apology was so far removed from reality that she hadn't even considered it. Of the many emotions Daisy had stirred, none of them had been negative. Perhaps too positive, but certainly not upset.
In recent days Daisy had given Sansa utter control of their dynamic publically and without question. It was an unheard of course of action, and one that had neatly removed multiple political issues for Sansa. She was no longer under the constant pressure from her court to fuck a god. It allowed political marriage as a tool for an alliance to be open once more if she so chose but on her terms and hers alone. Which was to say nothing of Daisy diverting the majority of Lord Baelish's attention onto herself. And just now she'd prevented a public dispute from turning into a true fight or challenge to her authority while also guaranteeing her brother's safety.
Daisy continued a faint shuffle in her movements. "But I promise I'll keep Jon safe and keep him from doing anything too stupid." She huffed in amusement.
Sansa wanted to ask what on earth Daisy could think she owed her an apology for. In what world her actions could be construed as anything but genuine and thoughtful service. That in both intent and result Daisy's actions had been favorable towards her. None of that however was what she asked. "Why did you volunteer to go to Dragonstone?" She had to know because Dragonstone meant nothing to Daisy, it was nothing to her.
"Because he's your brother?" Daisy tilted her head, eyes looking at her curiously as if it was as simple as that.
Sansa looked at Daisy and her mind went desperately still, and the burning in her chest moved her. She took two steps forward, her right hand reaching up to catch the side of Daisy's face and pressing her mouth against Daisy's before she could have thought of stopping herself. Not that she was thinking much of anything.
Under the palm of her hand, Daisy's cheek was warm, her loose hair gently brushing against her hand. Daisy's lips were soft against hers and still for a few terrifying seconds, and then Daisy turned ever so pliant before pressing back.
Sansa jerked back slightly, her eyes wide open as she stared at Daisy whose brow had furrowed as she moved as if to say something, a confused blink as she stood there, still not pulling away from Sansa's touch.
She'd kissed back!
Sansa leaned in, cutting off whatever Daisy had been about to say, changing the angle slightly and hoping she was doing this right.
The breath caught in the back of her throat as Daisy kissed back immediately and thoroughly this time. It was liquid how Daisy responded slowly and hotly against her. Nipping lightly at her lip and soothing it with her tongue and oh god…
One of Daisy's hands fell to Sansa's hip, gently pulling her closer, her other hand brushing Sansa's hair away from her face, before sliding down to where her neck met her jaw. Her touch was there but not possessive. Daisy's hold was easily breakable if Sansa had any desire to move away from the kiss she'd started which was so rapidly turning into something else.
And Sansa…Sansa had never been kissed so thoroughly, it was new and different. She burned with it as she found herself holding Daisy closer, needing her closer. It felt like she'd lose more than the air she couldn't keep in her lungs if this moment ended. She found herself unconsciously pressing back, trying to match Daisy.
Her free hand slid to the small of Daisy's back, as she ached with the feelings she'd so firmly tried to hold back. She was burning with sensations that had never felt pleasant before.
Daisy eased her mouth away, and then pulled back slightly, her voice breathless. "Sansa?" She waited until Sansa's weighted lids opened and she could look her in the eye. "You're sure?"
Staring into the face of the person she trusted and depended on, who had proven every terrible lesson to not be universally true, her friend who looked that slightest bit up at her, waiting for a real answer…there was only one answer: "Yes."
Daisy's eyes flicked across Sansa's face, looking for something. Whatever it was, Daisy must have found it because suddenly both of Daisy's hands curled around the sides of her waist, and she pressed their mouths back together.
They stumbled back a half step, Sansa's hand fell from Daisy's face to her shoulder, gripping the fabric of Daisy's outer wool jacket. Sansa sighed in terrified relief, because she wanted this. Had wanted it. And she was wanted in return. She was safe. She barely knew what she was doing. Hopefully, she knew enough to not make an utter fool of herself.
Daisy pushed them back across the hall, Sansa's back hitting the door to her chambers. Daisy's mouth pulled away from hers, only to then begin kissing along her jaw and towards her neck.
Sansa's head fell back against the door, a faintly surprised and high pitched noise at the sensation. Ok..this was new and nice…so nice. She panted faintly, her cheeks certainly flushed.
Reaching behind her she caught the latch of the door, and then they were both stumbling into the room.
Daisy laughed as she caught her footing, easily keeping Sansa steady with her hold around her waist. "You ok?"
She gave a nod with a laugh, though she knew her cheeks were burning. As she stood there, Daisy closing the door with a flick of her wrist, she realized she was going to have to say something before this went disastrously wrong. "I haven't…done this before."
"With a woman?" Daisy asked with kind understanding. She rocked back on her heels as Sansa shifted self consciously. "Hey, it's fine." Daisy rocked forward and lightly kissed her, a simple brush of the lips. "I've got you, it's awkward." She gently nudged their noses together.
Sansa's breath came out shaky with relief. She closed her eyes leaning into Daisy because Daisy was safe. Despite this conviction of Daisy's safety, Sansa knew if her dress was ripped off she wouldn't…she couldn't guarantee that- Sansa shook off the thought and pre-emptively unhooked the leather girdle around her waist that kept her dress neat and against her while keeping her posture even. The weight of it hitting the floor felt...profound, and sounded…loud in her quiet chambers.
Her fingers had a slight tremble which she was relieved Daisy couldn't see and didn't mention if she noticed, as she reached behind herself to unknot the lacing up the back of her gown. Looking up, she caught Daisy's eye and felt like the air in her lungs froze. The warm brown eyes she was used to were nearly black, but the playful grin and crinkles of laughter around the eyes were still there. Also, Daisy clearly didn't have any care or hesitancy about nakedness. She'd shucked off her wool jacket, and linen shirt in one go, and her hands were already unlacing the britches she wore underneath.
Breathing out slowly, Sansa forced herself to calm. She had to calm herself because this was different than it had been before. Daisy wouldn't hurt her, and while she was so clearly desired, the source of that previously sullied emotion was still so plainly Daisy, exactly as she always was. So she held Daisy's eyes as she loosened her laces, let her dress fall; pooling at her feet and leaving her in her shift and hose.
One moment they were watching each other and the next they were kissing again. Hands caressing as they stumbled from the small private solar into the bedchamber. Sansa gasped sharply as she fumbled, not entirely sure where or how exactly to touch, but needing to all the same. There was so much skin and it was right there. It was…she'd never wanted or been able to touch like this with a person she actually desired before.
For a few seconds, Sansa's view was cut off as her shift was lifted over her head, barely a flicker of unease touched her at being so vulnerable.
The back of Sansa's legs hit the edge of the bed, and then she was toppling over on top of it. It felt like the world came rushing back in. She realized she was going to panic, she needed…she needed to be in control or she was going to ruin everything. It was Daisy. She wouldn't hurt her. She knew that. Knew it so well that it left her breathless sometimes.
She rolled them over.
Which left her staring down at a very naked Daisy, and Sansa had no idea what to do next. She could breathe again but…she was so stupid. What now? She was supposed to do something. Looking down at Daisy, her shoulders pressed into the blankets and furs, her hair haloed out around her, looking up at her with so much affection…it felt like the image was burning itself into her mind's eye. Surely it was a thing she could never forget, it left her blood feeling hot and her heart pounding with desire. But…she didn't know what to do, how to do it right, and it left her frozen and unsure, inert.
Daisy blinked, her expression shifting slightly, and then she was sitting up, cupping the sides of Sansa's face. "Hey, come back to me." She lightly kissed her forehead. "I've got you, you're safe."
Sansa shuddered, leaning into the touch, her eyes flickering closed. "I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about, you just got lost in your head." Daisy pressed their foreheads together, gently grounding her.
And it was…oh gods, taking stock of her position she was basically straddling Daisy's lap, naked as the day she was born and had panicked like an idiot. So much for not ruining this. Humiliation burned in her. As soon as she opened her eyes it would be over. Her throat felt tight at the thought of speaking. If she needed to she could have just gone to that silent place in her head, just let it happen. Everything would have been fine if she could have done that but that wasn't what she wanted and the mere thought felt like a betrayal to Daisy.
"We can stop this, it's alright if you're not ready." Daisy's voice was soft as she brushed Sansa's hair out of her face with gentle fingers, her other hand trailed down to her hip, gripping her firmly but not harshly.
Sansa felt a blind hope, she hadn't ruined it. Not yet. "No, I want this."
"What do you need?" Daisy nudged their noses together again.
She opened her eyes, meeting Daisy's warm gaze. The air rushed from her lungs in relief. It was still Daisy, it would always be Daisy. Daisy who knew about Ramsey, who had so many scars of her own. "I can't…I don't know what to do, but you can't pin me."
"Do you need to touch me first?" Daisy asked carefully, clearly watching for her reaction.
Sansa knew her face was flushing red again. But… "Please."
Daisy gently tapped their foreheads together before pulling back slightly and sliding further up the bed. Sansa followed, because it was Daisy.
Catching Sansa's hand, Daisy brought it to her lips and gently kissed her open palm. "If it's too much we can stop." She offered again as she leaned in kissing Sansa's mouth. It was heat and tongue, and so easy to be lost in. The way Daisy was dragging Sansa's hand slowly down her front and then between her legs ensured Sansa didn't stop paying attention to anything for a second though.
"You can touch me." Daisy nipped at her ear.
Sansa felt like she was immolating from heat as she did. It was intoxicating; the need, the desire burning through her and washing away so many fears. The quiet murmuring of soft direction and encouragement in her ear, interrupted by the hitch in Daisy's lungs as Sansa's fingers pressed into her. The heat and slick of it consuming, the faint vibrations that seemed to suffuse Daisy tickling at her.
She mimicked Daisy then, kissing along her neck, a strange daring filling her as she used her thigh to add to her movements, at the whispered words from Daisy. The feel of Daisy against her, encouraging, and every stutter were things Sansa quietly prized. She committed the feel and memory into her mind and heart. Time seemed to lengthen and shorten in a sort of haze of sensation and heat. She didn't know how long it was.
And then Daisy was arching up with a sharp sound, a wave of vibrations washing past her.
Sansa was breathing heavily, holding Daisy as she came back. She smiled. "Are you ok?"
"More than." Daisy huffed out a laugh.
She felt a faint loss, pulling her fingers out of Daisy's warmth. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she wiped her hand off on the rumpled bed covers.
"Hey." Daisy leaned forward kissing her. "My turn."
Which…Sansa didn't have time to worry that she might panic again before she felt a vague sense of confusion as Daisy began to kiss down her neck to her chest…and then lower? Sansa allowed herself to be gently rolled onto her back even as she fought her confusion.
She was distracted as Daisy kissed down her stomach and her breathing began to turn heavy again, but not in a bad way. Then Daisy…and oh, her confusion vanished as she realized exactly what was happening. It was..oh…well she was not being pinned…but…And then well, her head was snapping back with a gasp at the sensation, her right hand entwining with Daisy's. She held on as she let the sensations overtake her.
Sansa let herself be.
////
Loras Tyrell looked up from his post as Brienne came marching down the hallway.
"Where is her Grace, the small council met near half an hour ago!" Brienne looked stressed. "Is she safe?"
Loras bit back a snort. "She's good." Very good based on the faint shake to the stones and muffled sounds he'd been hearing. "Her Grace is currently indisposed and will not be attending the small council meeting. Best have some wine sent to the council."
"Have you sent for the Maester?" Brienne checked, concern drawn across every line of her honorable being.
He patted Brienne's shoulder. "Not that type of indisposed." He gave a pointed glance to the door. "And I'm sure her Holiness is taking very good care of our Queen."
Brienne's face turned a bright red. "Ah..I'll just…you did the right thing."
"Thank you, Commander." Loras held back the sniggers as Brienne turned on her heel and marched off in mortified horror. Once she was out of sight he couldn't help the silent laughter. Who knew the North would be this much fun?
Notes:No real rant this week, but it's come up a few times in the comments that a few of you guys want a discord channel. Which I think is super cool, but I do not have time to run something like that. So if anyone is interested in like moderating that I'm down for helping but I just don't have time otherwise. So hit me up in the comments if you want I guess?
Chapter 54Notes:Hey guys! Happy one year on this fic!
And thanks to the lovely Ashwin we have a discord server https://discord.gg/DG9z4ZMZyK
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextDaisy lay on her side in bed, her eyes tracing over the scars along Sansa's back. Whatever had caused it was rigid, they weren't scars from a whip, but clearly, she'd been struck with something. These scars were older than the thin slices that were almost certainly from Ramsey. She trailed her fingers across the one that reached almost to Sansa's shoulder. Daisy had her own scars, but she wondered at the differences in how they'd acquired them. And what the difference killing the ones who gave them made.
Sansa made a quiet sound, clearly still mostly asleep.
She was helpless to stop the smile spreading across her face. Daisy glanced up at the soft light of dawn starting to peek through the window. The rest of the world would be rushing in again soon. Closing her eyes she focused on the vibrations of the castle around them.
It was Seth guarding the door, she recognized his familiar vibrations. Beyond the door outside the room, however, she could feel the thousands of heartbeats, the low hum of stone, the higher ringing of the pipes in the walls, and the hundred other unique vibrations. Nothing felt different than any other day; guards on the walls, courtiers in the noble quarters, various servants bustling around, the chaos of the kitchens. Someone was lighting up the forges already. Her lips twitched, Ser Mouser was being chased by at least two Order members.
Daisy's attention was caught by the faint change in the beating of Sansa's heart. She let her focus on the vibrations fade, though it never faded to nothing now. Her eyes opened as she watched Sansa sluggishly come to.
Sansa stretched slightly to clearly realized Daisy was there, and then her eyes snapped open, a faint whisper of panic before she recognized her. Her eyes widened as her face heated up.
Who could resist that? It was laugh or kiss her. So Daisy kissed her, smiling into it as she did. Cause she got to kiss Sansa Stark now!
"Morning." Daisy's smile was in her voice as she pulled back.
Sansa softened. "Morning."
"So…everyone is going to know aren't they?" Daisy absently trailed her fingers along Sansa's arm.
She gave a hesitant nod. "Yes."
"Sounds fun." Daisy snorted, it was weird. Nobody had cared who she was sleeping with before. "I'm going to have to punch some idiots for your honor at some point aren't I?"
Sansa reached up, threading her fingers into Daisy's hair, and kissed her. It was all slow purposeful heat. The sensation and press of the other woman, had Daisy melting back into the bedspread beneath her.
Far too soon Sansa was pulling back. Turning away from her she sat up, the blankets pooling off of her as she climbed out of the bed.
Daisy let out a huff. That was just unfair. But fine, challenge accepted. Sliding out of bed she started picking up her clothing as she followed the trail of it to the attached office thing. Pulling her shirt on over her head, she stepped back into the bedroom. Wow, this was going to be the most public walk of shame ever. Not that she felt anything close to shame. More giddy excitement at the dawn of something new.
She raised a brow at Sansa utterly ignoring her clothing on the floor and instead pulling new items from her chest of clothing. Although fair, but seriously rich people. With a slight shake of her head, she stepped forward, kissing Sansa's bare shoulder, one of her hands curling around her waist to hold her gently. "One of the servants will be here in about forty seconds."
Sansa pulled a fresh shift over her head. "Thank you."
"Totes." Daisy grinned as she stepped back and pulled on her pants. Which… "I need to go check with the Order, make sure Fitz is alive and remembered to sleep." She noted the pause and increase in heart rate just outside the door. The servant def knew what they were about to walk into. "Probably clean clothes, but I'll be there for the meetings on the whole Dragonstone thing."
Sansa blinked but neatly replied. "Of course, if you could have two to three of your Order in mind for the diplomatic party."
"I can do that." Daisy cocked her head considering Sansa and ignored the poor servant who was cleaning up Sansa's clothing from the night before. "You know Tyrion, better than Jon seems to think he does. What do I need to know?"
Sansa gave a faint hum as she clearly considered that. "He likes intelligent people. And he has a soft spot for those whom society trods upon. Not enough to help, but he finds them more interesting." Sansa sighed. "He's a drunk, a whoremonger, and very clever. He likes being the smartest man in the room, which he usually is. While he might not be cruel for sport he's capable of it should he need to be. Don't underestimate him, he'll talk Jon into something stupid in less than a week if you don't interfere. "
"Noted." Daisy pulled her coat thing on, lacing up the front. "Are you going to send Loras?"
Sansa shook her head. "No, so long as he is here and by my side the Tryells will not support an attack on the North unless they have no choice. If this Dragon Queen's chief supporters can keep her focused away from us for as long as possible it will only help our position."
Daisy paused...it felt slightly awkward with a servant there, but fuck it. She stepped forward. One hand curled around Sansa's waist, the other gently cradling the side of Sansa's face, as she leaned up pressing her mouth against hers. She wasn't leaving any doubt that she wanted more than a one night stand in Sansa Stark's head.
Reluctantly she pulled back. "See you in a bit."
////
Jon desperately wanted to pull his sister aside and ask her what on earth was going on. Because he hadn't been aware she and Daisy were going to fake being paramours? They were faking, right? The whole courtship was fake. Some forewarning would have been appreciated… was it because of his actions in court? It made no sense to him. But then half of what Sansa did was baffling until she explained it, at which point you felt like an idiot for not seeing it. Now wasn't the time for that.
"What do we offer to this Targaryen for the dragonglass then?" Greatjon asked, his arms crossed. His clear hangover from victorious toasts the night before clear to be seen.
Sansa spoke slowly. "With Daisy willing to fly word from Dragonstone to Winterfell and back we can have proper negotiations. But what Danaerys will want is for the North to bend the knee. Which is something we cannot give to her. Not for all her armies, dragons, and supplies together." Her voice was decisive.
There was unanimous agreement from the various Lords there. Including some muttered swears at the concept of bending the knee.
Jon's fist clenched, hidden by his cloak. He understood, of course, he did. But they would die without this help.
"We promise our aid against Cersei, I'd rather a mad Targaryen than that Lannister bitch." Manderly grunted, another victim of a hangover. The whole damned court had overindulged the night before.
Sansa gave a nod. "If she can be convinced that the Dead are coming, her own self-interest might move her. After all, she wants to rule over us, not be killed by our corpses." She laid her hand upon the table the map was over. "We carve up the Riverlands. By right they owe the Winter Throne their allegiance, but they are unable to fight anything after the wars. Any war over territory there would ruin what wreckage has survived. And with the Dead marching, we cannot retake them. It's semantics at this point, but it is land that can be seeded to her without harming our position. The Riverlands will need food and aid we can little afford to survive the winter besides."
"They swore to your brother." Cerwyn's voice was disgusted.
Jon was gruff as he responded. "We die without this help."
"A fact we're all aware of." Sansa cut over. "Until we've rejected her initial demand to bend and begin proper negotiation we cannot settle on everything." She looked around the various Lords. "Twenty men at arms will be sent with our emessarial party. Jon, as my Hand and as my brother you will hold my authority in these negotiations. That said, Lord Manderly, your cousin Marlon Manderly is to join the party when they reach Whiteharbor. Lord Greengood, you are to accompany my brother with this party as well. Tormund, is there a clan leader of the Wildlings you would recommend to go with Jon?"
Tormund rubbed at his beard. "Aye, I can think of a fucker or two worth sending."
"I will trust in your choice then. Have them prepared and ready to depart on the morrow." Sansa looked at Daisy. "You as well as two members of the Order if you consent to it."
Daisy was easy as she nodded. "Of course."
"If I may," Baelish spoke, his face smarmy and punchable, "perhaps a Lord of the Vale as well?"
Sansa's gaze turned on the man. "Do you have one in mind?"
"Ser Moore and Lord Shett would make a statement of the Vale's support of your rule, and our fight against the Dead." Baelish deferred as he made the offer.
And it was all so irritatingly proper and pointless as the diplomatic party's members and various options for the acquiring of the dragonglass were argued.
Jon spoke as soon as they reached the top of the battlements. "We'd have traveled faster with a smaller party."
"And you'd have met a foreign Queen in a position of weakness." Sansa snapped, as she turned and 'oh'. She was furious. "Do you know the position you've put us in? The position that is only salvageable because of Daisy?"
"Without help, without dragonglass, and without more men, we will die. That is a fact." Jon stood his ground. "You, and all those Lords and all of your pride will get us killed."
Sansa's eyes flashed as she took a half step forward, her arm snapping to one side. "Pride? You think this is about pride!? This is about survival, you idiot!"
He barely resisted taking a half step back.
"You threatened to commit treason yesterday! You, my Hand, my brother! If Daisy hadn't stepped in I would have been forced to lose the respect we are depending on or have had you locked in chains! Do you think the Lords of the North will go into almost certain death on my orders if my own brother refuses? We are on the brink of open war against the monsters that made our ancestors build a wall seven hundred feet high! The Long Night, the darkest time in all of our known history is upon us! Even if we survive the Dead that doesn't mean the cold, endless night of a years long winter won't."
Jon blanched at the word 'treason'. He hadn't meant it like that. "Sansa-"
"Don't Sansa me!" She half snarled, it was startling from his prim and proper sister. "We have to be smarter than them. We have to be stronger, smarter, everything, or else we'll die. And if we survive the cold, the Dead, starvation, and endless winter. If we survive all that, do you think this Targaryen won't be waiting to burn us and our land to ashes? The North won't follow a leader who bows, not after the shame and bloodshed we've been through these past few years."
He swallowed. "We make them understand it's needed. If that's the cost of surviving the Dead. You haven't seen them Sansa, we have no hope without this."
"We have no hope for any of it! We never have." Sansa reached up, touching her brow. "That pride is all they have. It's all any of us have. But that's what life is."
Jon's throat was tight. "I have to believe there's a chance Sansa."
"So you are going to walk into a trap. You will beg a woman from a family famed for madness for aid. A woman who hates us. And maybe, if you are very lucky, and you listen to the Lords I am sending with you, and trust Daisy, you might return with dragonglass." Her hand dropped back to her side, her anger draining out leaving an exhausted sorrow. "If the gods themselves show you favor, and this Targaryen is of a very different mold than her ancestors, you might bring back the army, dragons, and dragonglass you want. But the chances are slim, and for that chance, you abandon the good you certainly could accomplish here."
He reached out, taking his sister's hands in his. His voice was low but near to cracking with emotion. "I've spoken with Mors, Glover, Flint, and Cerwyn. They'll ensure our strategy for the Dead is advanced. You keep the men digging ditches where I've marked on the map. Dig the ditches, and prepare barrels of oil to be stored by them. The Crannoman already have agreed to focus their manpower and time on extracting as much oil as they can from where it wells near the bogs. Send men to ensure the roads between us and them remain clear. You don't need me for the ditches and oil. But you do need me for the south."
Sansa closed her eyes. She gave a tense nod, her eyes snapping open, their cold blue cutting into him. "You cannot challenge me before the court like that again."
"I can do that." He agreed, imprinting the promise into his bones. "You have my word."
She squeezed his hands. "Don't die."
"I'll do my best." He released her hands so that he could wrap his arms around her, hugging her as tightly as he could. "I'll find us some hope."
She squeezed back just as tightly, burying her nose into the fur of his cloak. "You're an idiot."
"I know." He agreed.
////
Loras Tyrell had carried his writing tools and a sheet of wood to write on, out into the gods' wood. He needed to write his family. The faith of the old gods was a curious thing he'd found. But it was a faith he actually could feel instead of mock. Standing before the eerie face bleeding red sap he felt something. Something real.
As he came closer he paused at a sight before him. It was surreal, ethereal nearly. Daisy stood before the face tree, though her feet were not upon the ground. Her eyes were closed, chin tipped up towards the tree's canopy. Her hair and clothing rose and fluttered in a wind that didn't exist. The leaves of the tree danced in the same breeze, despite the near absolute stillness of the air. It could have been a trick of the light, but he could have sworn there was a flicker of gold beneath Daisy's skin.
If he hadn't been frozen in terror and awe, he'd have fallen to his knees.
Daisy dropped back to the ground silently, the nonexistent breeze vanishing from whence it'd come. She raised an eyebrow at him. "You ok over there?"
He realized his heart was racing in his chest. Swallowing, he took a step forward on the sacred ground. And that's what it was. Sacred. "I just came for wisdom, I meant no disrespect interrupting, your Holiness."
"You're fine." She glanced at the tree. "I think I'm starting to learn to speak tree though…so that's a new and very weird skill."
Loras…wasn't sure what to say to that. His grandmother hadn't prepared him for gods in human flesh speaking to ancient tree gods. But he'd also see this god allow a child to shove frozen slush over her head. And she put up with Umber. Terror or no terror, daring might serve him. Actually… "If I could beg a small favor of you?"
"Sure, what's up?" Daisy looked at him curiously.
He blinked. "Truly, Holiness?"
"I mean figure I probably owe you after last night." And suddenly her behavior made sense.
Loras couldn't help it, he laughed. Well if she meant to treat with him the same as the others. "I cannot say I was expecting our Queen to be as daring as that. But as her sworn sword it was naught but my duty." He dared then to approach more closely. "If I entrusted a letter to you, would you perhaps pass it to whichever of my family is in Dragonstone?"
"Sure, just one letter? Or do you have a couple for them?" Daisy picked absently at the cuffs of her sleeves. A habit of hers that he'd noticed.
Loras set his writing things down on the bench by the tree. "Just the one, it'll be passed around to the rest of my family. My grandmother will never forgive me for swearing to her Grace."
"Do you regret it?" Daisy asked a genuine curiosity there.
He shook his head. "No. My father is dead, my sister is dead. When winter comes I'll have my vengeance. And if the Lannisters get burned by dragons first, so what? I know that they will fall. Winter always comes, and I need not lie about who I am here."
"Fair." Daisy didn't insult him by questioning further or attempting to pontificate or showing the faintest flicker of pity.
Loras decided to leave her to her thoughts. If she didn't mind, and she didn't seem to, he would write his letter here as planned. Sitting down he began the slow work of writing to his family.
He was just writing down his eighth justification for grandmother when Daisy sat down beside him. Loras paused in his writing, and honestly, no justification would help cool his grandmother's fury. "Did you need something, your Holiness?"
Daisy looked at him consideringly. "I'm not ignorant of how quickly the current gossip about Sansa and I could turn against her. How do I prevent that from happening?"
Loras wasn't almost certain that wasn't true. The reverence these people held for the Starks, and for the god beside him was terrifying. The general mood had been celebratory in the hours since her Holiness's suit had been accepted. But…he did swear his life to Sansa Stark. And ensuring her position was beyond reproach was his duty. "Indication of your esteem would be a credit to her and to you."
"Right…how do I do that?" Daisy stared at him with a 'duh' sort of expression. "I mean this is not how we do it on my world. Like…flowers and jacket sharing not really your guys' thing."
Loras wanted to bang his head against something at that moment. The absolute ridiculous scale of this god's gestures suddenly made a horrible amount of sense. She hadn't the faintest idea of what she was doing and had likely heard some ballad or something and was just mimicking it. The over the top courtly love routine… she was winging it. "How exactly would one court another in your world?"
And Daisy replied.
Twenty minutes later Loras was struck by the fact they really hadn't been giving this god enough credit. Her oddities were frankly nothing to what they could have been. "Would you be amenable to a luncheon with Mira Forrester and me tomorrow?" He needed help.
////
Sansa was going to strangle her brother. She needed years to beat basic political negotiating skills into his head, not a single evening. It was not a thought she'd ever state outside of the privacy of her head, but it was shocking Jon had survived as long as he had as Lord Commander. "We cannot go to her to beg for aid. It doesn't matter how badly we need it. Meeting with her as anything but an equal will doom us from the start."
"Why all these pretensions? Tyrion is a good man. If we can make them accept the Dead are coming it'll be in their best interest to aid us." Jon insisted as he'd been doing for the past hour. He seemed convinced that belief in the Long Night would unite them all.
Sansa set her pen down. She'd been writing down various options for negotiation and lists of houses with Targaryen sympathies. "Jon, doing what is smart and right is not what men do. Do you think half the North wouldn't fall away from us if they didn't know my reprisal would be the end of them?"
He let out a sound of frustration. "Who's in power shouldn't matter. Who rules what land is nothing in the face of the Dead."
"It shouldn't, but it does. And you have to be smarter than father was, than Robb was, than our grandfather and uncle were." Gods Stark men were clearly cursed with the political minds of rocks...honorable and just rocks, but rocks all the same. She held out some hope her grandfather had had some skill at it. The alliances he'd arranged had overthrown the King who'd burned him alive after all. Still. He'd died in the south as half the Stark men seemed to.
Jon's shoulders remained heavy as he sat in his seat before her. "If it wouldn't all fall apart I would say you should go. But even I know that would never work."
"No it really wouldn't." Sansa could move within the North with the right Lords and Rickon in Winterfell. But to leave for the south? Impossible.
Jon's sad puppy eyes looked up at her. It was unfair. "Am I really so bad at all this?"
"You're a good sight better than half the men I've seen in positions of power. It's the other half I worry about. Please listen to the men I'm sending with you." She was giving him the best advisors she could. The most prestigious party that could be spared. No accusation of disrespect could be given.
Jon huffed. "That bad then"
"You're a good man Jon." She reached out laying her hand over his. "If anyone can make them listen it will be you. But the south isn't the North. Honor means less, trust no one. And for gods sake keep your wits about you. The lies people tell are as important as the truths they share."
Jon looked at the parchment in front of her. "You'll have written me a novel for Daisy to hand me by the time she joins us in Whiteharbor."
"Probably." She admitted with a faint twitch of her lips.
He sighed and gave a slow nod. "Right then. I'm leaving Ghost with you while I'm away. He wouldn't like the south anyways."
"He'd be a powerful reminder you are a Stark." She cautioned though a part of her didn't wish to part with the animal. He was living proof her brother lived.
Jon shook his head. "You named me Stark, I don't need ought else to be a Stark. Besides, I'd feel better knowing he was here to protect you and Rickon."
And Sansa...knew that it was done. The path had been set, all that was left was to walk it.
Notes:So like I think it's super neat how much Lovecraft is in GoT/ASOIAF. I mean Lovecraftian shit is just the coolest(although not Lovecraft himself. And we all are grateful his racist piece of shit ass is dead and we don't have to give a rats ass what he thinks about anything.) But like the weirwood trees and their comparisons to like alien fungus, super cool. The Deep ones, the twisted magics that give rise to part man part beast beings. The idea of a Great Other and a fire god in a constant cycle of fire and ice? That shit is super fascinating.
But I just am really partial to the fungus/hivemind/sentient trees. They're super cool and the idea that blood transmits memories and they can affect the world around them…or maybe rather channel power from blood sacrifice into third parties for magic? Super sick. And the applications and ways that can be taken are fascinating. I love the way the magic of ASOIAF blends this really interesting mix of folk tale and science fiction together into something that is both familiar and other.