Chapter 79Notes:Happy, slightly late Thanksgiving to the American readers.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextDaisy was panting slightly, her back pressed against the closed door to Sansa's public solar. She grinned up at Sansa. "I missed you too."
"I.." Sansa let out a long breath, leaning her forehead against Daisy's. Her eyes closed. "I'm glad you're back."
Daisy reached up, trailing her fingers over Sansa's cheekbone before brushing her long red hair behind her ear. "So am I." She gently shifted, kissing Sansa softly, far more softly than Sansa had just been kissing her the second the door had closed behind them. Daisy hummed, enjoying the closeness. Gently nudging Sansa's nose with hers. "You're kinda awesome, you know that?"
Sansa huffed, but Daisy could feel her smile against her cheek. "Thank you." Her voice had a dry humor to it. "I assume whatever tidings you bring are good and completely ridiculous?"
"Pretty much." Daisy agreed, she didn't say more. "Anything more exciting than some stubborn Lords?"
"Quite a lot actually." Sansa's shoulders shook with repressed laughter. "Do you mind if we wait to bring the rest of the world in?"
Daisy pressed a kiss against Sansa's cheek. "Please." She knew they didn't have long, Sansa's council would arrive soon, and then it would be all business and politics till well after the sun set. "I'm tired just thinking about it."
"We're being ridiculous of course." Sansa pointed out.
She shifted enough to actually be able to look Sansa in the eye. "And who's going to stop us?"
"No one, though if they were smart they…well they still wouldn't." Sansa had one of her rare smiles on her face. "Arya is going to be insufferable if she realizes I dragged you in here and then did nothing productive."
"I'm sure you'll survive." Daisy smiled. "I'm glad she's back."
Sansa had a lightness to her that seemed to grow after every family member that was returned to her. "I did not think I would get her back."
"I'm beginning to think you Starks should have a cockroach instead of a wolf on your flags." Daisy kissed away the undoubtedly vaguely insulted protest that Sansa was about to make to that.
Sana lightly whacked her shoulder as their mouths parted, more of a pat than anything else. "You're terrible."
"But right, and you know it." Daisy grinned. "Wouldn't look half as cool though."
Sansa huffed, actually rolling her eyes. "You're insufferable sometimes."
"And you have me pinned to a door still, so I think you don't mind." She teased back.
Sansa's cheeks flushed a bright red and started to pull back. "Sorry, I-"
Daisy dragged her back in and smugly kissed the apology away. "I didn't say I minded."
"We don't have time." Sansa was still pleased, though flushed as she spoke. "And I'd like to be able to look my Council in the eye when they get here this time."
Daisy snickered slightly at the mention of last time. "Got it."
"I mean it." Sansa huffed, though the curl of her lips gave away that she wasn't actually upset. "We were barely decent in time last time."
She loosely wrapped her arms over Sansa's shoulders. "You're the one who keeps looking at this dress like you'd very much like to rip it off me."
"That's…" Somehow Sansa's cheeks turned redder. "It's not proper."
Daisy raised a brow, amused to watch Sansa squirm slightly at the topic. "The dress or sex in your solar?"
Sansa shot her a truly dirty look. "It's in Tyrell colors, with Tyrell roses over the whole thing. How are you not cold? It doesn't even have sleeves!"
"Well, I had to borrow it from a Tyrell after I got blood on my own clothes." Daisy was positively smug at the way Sansa's eyes were very valiantly trying not to dip toward her cleavage. She leaned forward and lowered her voice as she half-whispered in Sansa's ear. "Besides, I think you're fond of the neckline."
Sansa just dropped her head onto Daisy's shoulder. "You really are insufferable sometimes."
"Do you want me to stop?" Daisy asked amused at the exasperation Sansa could so easily express sometimes.
She faintly shook her head against her. "No. Which is ridiculous. I used to care about propriety."
"You still do." Daisy kissed her again because she could. "Your society just has dumb rules."
Sansa settled, her humor fading. She looked at her curiously. "What would you call us if we were in your world?"
She blinked. "Dating, it's called dating." Daisy considered it, this wasn't Lincoln who could be teased with relationship progress. It mattered here, and Sansa liked boxes and understanding things. It distressed her to not understand. "You'd be my girlfriend, and I'd be yours."
"Girl friend?" Sansa said slowly.
Daisy shook her head slightly with a smile. "No, one word 'girlfriend'. Usually, it implies a committed, romantic relationship." She laughed. "I already know you're family, but you'd need to meet mine. Not that I have more than my team, but they'd like you." She considered the fact it felt…kind of silly to think of Sansa as something as juvenile as anyone's girlfriend. "I think your term is better."
"Girlfriend does sound rather silly." Sansa allowed, but she had a soft look on her face. "Why 'dating'?"
"Because we'd be expected to go on dates. Or romantic outings. Which is a bit hard to do when you're in a castle and running a kingdom." Daisy actually slipped her hand into one of the several lovely pockets in the dress. She was a fan of medieval dress, so many fucking pockets, glorious huge ass pockets. "Which, I'd meant to give this to you ages ago, but I don't know…it felt silly and I kept forgetting."
Sansa looked down, a curious light in her eyes and a surprised, pleased smile on her face. Her hands came up to catch the small silver pendant. As she saw it her heart sped for a few precious beats, her eyes widened. She looked up. "It's your sigil?"
"Is that ok?" Daisy asked, that wasn't the reaction she'd have expected.
Sansa seemed to shake herself out of her thoughts. She closed the space between them hugging her tightly. "It's beautiful, thank you."
////
Jon felt uncomfortable as he escorted Leonette Tyrell around the gardens. He shifted as yet another Tyrell cousin gave him a look as they passed them. It made him want to flee for the gods' wood.
"They're intimidated by you." Leonette sounded amused.
He looked at her, his face scrunched slightly. "I would never hurt a woman." Jon paused. "Outside of combat."
Leonette laughed, clear and bright. "Oh, you poor man, not you. Her Holiness is quite protective of you. They are unsure of how to speak with you without raising her ire. Short of slapping a sigil or sign of hers on you, she's quite thoroughly marked you out as hers."
"It's not like that." He protested, he missed the Wildlings. They understood the concept of friendship, although typically with more stabbing.
She had a rather impish smile. "While Loras's letter was rather clear on which Stark has her Holiness's eye, the majority of our household and family have not read it. And you are very pretty, your Highness, and she clearly holds you in great esteem."
He looked away from her then. "I don't know about me being pretty, but Daisy is a good friend."
"You have come a long way in the world, your Highness. They are intrigued and intimidated." Leonette clearly picked up that discussing Daisy further was not wise.
Jon's frown faded as he sighed. "You mean I've gone from bastard to legitimized prince and Hand of the Queen?"
"It is quite the rise in fortune, you must admit." Her voice was kind but he disliked how they could not just speak plainly here.
He knew she wasn't wrong. "I am grateful to my sister. She did not have to, I would have protected her without being named Stark."
"Family is the most important thing we have in this world." Leonette looped her arm through his. "My marriage has been a joy, surely you have a betrothed you are eager to return to?"
Jon held back his surprise at how forward she was being. "I do not."
"What, not even some pretty girl in your sister's court?" The light airy teasing in her tone made him want to run.
Jon noted the various Reach ladies diligently working on bandages and various bits of sewing in the bright sunlight. He cleared his throat. "No, with the Dead coming there hasn't been time."
"Well, that's a shame. At the very least while you are with us you'll have to dance. If you're unfamiliar with the steps I know cousin Helen will help you." Leonette smiled, pleased as if she'd just solved a mystery.
Jon's instincts said flee but…oh gods he'd asked to court Daenerys, and she was only a few days out. He might actually be expected to dance. His voice came out as a croak. "If it wouldn't be an inconvenience."
"None at all." Leonette looked at him. "By the gods, you look sick. It's just a few dances, I assure you the ladies here won't bite."
He winced. "It's not that, what if I step on Daenerys's toes?" That would be terrible, he hadn't gotten an answer on the courting thing yet.
Leonette's brow rose in curiosity. "Why are you smitten with our Queen, your Highness?"
"An alliance could save both of our people." He shifted at the look on her face. "And she is a very admirable woman."
Leonette raised a brow as she looked at him, more than just a spark of humor on her face. "Admirable?"
His cheeks felt hot. "She is an impressive woman, her men love her, and she has accomplished a great deal against terrible odds. I understand why so many are willing to bend the knee. She could be a great Queen." His hand twitched. "Certainly better than any southern ruler in my lifetime."
Her brow rose higher. "I'm sure her qualities as a leader are all that have attracted your attention?"
Jon cleared his throat, his ears felt hot. "She is very pretty."
Leonette giggled helplessly. "We'll have to see about those dance lessons."
////
Edmund Blackwood was nervous as he stood at the back of the council room. He'd never thought he'd have found himself in a place so vital to his family's interests as the small council of a ruling monarch. Not that he held a seat, or was even expected to speak, but he was there. He felt his heart beating against his chest as he took his place, quietly waiting for things to get settled.
Out of the corner of his eye, he took in the strange god who held dominion here. She was strikingly beautiful, her eyes bright and clear as she laughed easily speaking with Lord Umber. The casual confidence, the easy way she moved, and the instinctive respect every Northerner showed her was terrifying. He swallowed as he saw the last of the named Masters of the Council take their seats.
Queen Stark spoke. "My Lords, Ladies." She gave a tip of her head to Lady Dustin at that. "First shall we get the minor details out of the way? Lady Dustin as you are already managing the office of Lord of Revenue it seems only right the position be yours if you would take your seat."
Edmund's breath caught in his throat, it didn't miss his notice that none of the Northern Lords seemed surprised or spoke against the decision.
"I will serve to the best of my ability, your Grace." Lady Dustin dipped her head, before taking the seat. Her bearing as noble as any southern lady could hope.
Queen Stark moved on. "Lord Mallister, I would name you Master of Commerce if you have no objections?"
"I w-would be honored." Patrek Mallister stumbled slightly over his own words as he stepped forward, hands shaking slightly as he bowed deeply before taking his new seat.
She looked to Lord Royce then. "If you would take a seat so that you might speak on behalf of our allies in the Vale, Lord Royce."
"Your Grace." The man bowed and took a seat as well.
Edmund noted there was only one seat vacant, Master of Whispers. He wasn't sure whom it would go to, but he agreed better no Master of Whispers than a poor one. Not that he had any intention of saying anything. He knew when he didn't belong, likely his summons had only to do with the fact he was but one of two Riverlords in the North. He was a token of acknowledgment, one he knew would mean a great deal to his father and the other Lords of the Riverlands.
Sansa spoke. "Now, you all no doubt know why you've been summoned. There is word from the south." She laid out a stack of letters. "The first ship of dragonglass should reach Whiteharbor in a month's time." She looked to the god, her lover. "If you would?"
"Right." The god who very much had a seat but hadn't taken it stepped from where she'd been leaning against the wall by Lord Umber, till she was standing before the table. She did not bow, not even the faintest lowering of her head. "Daenerys Targaryen is not mad, and she's not unable to be reasoned with. She's agreed to give up her claims on the North and acknowledge your rule."
Lord Manderly spoke from his seat. "Forgive me, your Holiness, but what was exchanged for such a concession."
"Highgarden." She said like it was nothing. "The Lannisters made a gambit that they could take Highgarden while the Targaryen forces were split between Dragonstone and Casterly Rock." She shrugged. "I move faster than even dragons. The men Cersei had she could afford to send to attack are dead. Well, most of them, the ones who surrendered are now Targaryen prisoners."
////
Daisy slipped into Fitz's workshop. "Hey, what up?"
"Daisy!" Fitz dropped what he was working on, quickly getting up and making his way over to her. "How'd you escape the meeting so fast?"
She found she wasn't tensing up. "Well once they realized I killed an army it seemed best to leave them to it." She shrugged.
His eyes widened. "You did what!?"
"It was a siege by an army famous for sacking and pillaging who were going to slaughter a whole ass castle." Daisy rolled her eyes. "And a couple thousand survived and are prisoners anyways."
He spluttered. "Daisy, this is why people are scared of Inhumans! You can't just k-kill armies!"
"Fitz, I'm not going to stand by when I can help these people." She crossed her arms.
He ran a hand through his hair but nodded. "I…I understand wanting to help them, but an army?"
"Army famous for slaughtering civilians, rape, pillaging, and general horrible shit," Daisy replied. Not to mention it'd been Loras's family about to be killed.
Fitz groaned as he breathed out fine. "Fine, it might have been the right call." He scrubbed at his face. "I've been thinking about what we fought about."
"We don't have to talk about that." Daisy did not want to rehash anything about the Fitz who had died or just any of that.
He turned his stupid blue eyes on her. "Please, I… it's important."
Daisy's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "Ok."
"I'm not like you or Jemma or Coulson." His fingers twitched as he waved at her. "I joined for the science, to prove myself. I wanted to be a hero because that meant I was better than my father."
She resisted the desire to reach out to him. "Fitz, you chose to risk your life for the world. That's pretty damn heroic."
"But I didn't!" His hand movements were erratic when he was distressed. "I did it for Jemma, and then you and the team, and then Jemma again. It wasn't because it was the right thing."
She reached out and caught his arm. "Fitz, you've saved so many lives."
"For my ego? Because I love Jemma? How can I look her in the face when we get home knowing I'm….this?" He waved at himself.
Daisy dropped her hand looking at him seriously. "What do you want from me then?"
"I want to be better. And I need you to not lie to me and tell me when I'm…when I'm failing." Fitz straightened. "I want to be someone Jemma…I'm not ashamed of."
Daisy hesitated, a part of her wanted to hug him at the flicker of who her friend had been. But most of her couldn't bring herself to. "I'll help, but Jemma has never been ashamed of you. Never."
Fitz was slightly stiff, but he nodded. "Thank you." He softened, his expression turning familiar and strong. "And I'm sorry for hurting you."
She choked slightly, refusing to let herself cry because he so terribly reminded her of the old Fitz. "I wasn't being fair. This you is…"
"The same one who'd been a shit friend for months." Fitz grimaced. "It wasn't that unfair."
Daisy huffed and wiped at her eyes. "Can we just…be friends again maybe?"
"That'd be good." Fitz sniffed. "Yeah, I'd like that."
She hesitated. "I don't know if it'll be the same."
"Nothing stays the same, law of the universe." The corner of his mouth pulled up.
Daisy touched his arm and squeezed. She was being ridiculous. "Come on, I came in here to drag you to dinner."
"Won't that be delayed by meetings?" He rubbed at his short, kinda curly beard.
She actually huffed out a laugh at that. "You think Sansa is going to disturb the schedule for a meeting that isn't immediately pressing?"
"Fair." Fitz rocked on his heels. "I'm working on a medical book, even with a s-schedule we still have time?"
Daisy had been planning on approaching the Order to check in with Hogg…but that could wait till the morning. "You're writing a medical textbook?"
"Well, there was an incident with a birth." He explained leading her to where he'd been writing.
She hummed. "Huh, same here. I'm guessing yours wasn't smooth sailing if they got you involved?"
"No, her pelvis had been broken and fused back together wrong. The only option was-"
Daisy slid her hand into Sansa's under the table and squeezed it gently in greeting. "Sorry, Fitz and I got caught up in his latest project."
"You're hardly late." Sansa had her usual dry expression that was reserved but faint humor in the crinkling around her eyes.
Daisy resisted the desire to do more than smile at her, it was dumb, but Sansa was held to certain standards here. "Was the council fun after I left?"
"That's one way of putting it." Sansa lifted her mug of ale to her lips.
Daisy was sitting on the top of one of the lower tables, listening to Lord Umber and Tormund loudly bragging about various feats in an attempt to one-up each other. It washed over her in a warm sort of…belonging. She'd missed this, the comradery, the acceptance. She didn't startle, but she looked in surprise as she felt fabric being draped over her shoulders. Reaching up she touched the fabric of what she realized was Rickon's cloak. "What's this for kid?"
"You looked cold." His face was properly set like he was facing Lyanna in a sparring ring.
She reached out and yanked him down beside her. Whatever it was about could come later. "Here to listen to these old geezers lie their butts off?"
A pleased little smile curled at the corner of Rickon's mouth as he settled against her side. "They do lie a lot."
"I take offense to that." Tormund waggled his finger in their faces. "I really did fight against that bear for a week. It hunted me till I cut its throat!"
Daisy shared a look with Rickon. "I don't know, you think maybe the bear was a little bit smaller than the massive beast we're hearing about?"
"Don't think I've heard of a twenty foot bear before." He agreed, laughter in the back of his throat, possibly a giggle.
She ruffled his hair. "I think we're calling your bluff."
"I see how it is." He chuckled, widening his eyes as he leaned in, his face twisting theatrically, his voice full of drama. "But have you ever seen an ice spider boy?"
Rickon's nose scrunched. "They don't exist."
"Oh, they exist," Tormund said darkly. "Giant spindly legs with bristly hairs and strange eyes. You can hear them in the freezing cold as their shells crack. They carry off small children that wander too far."
Daisy wrapped an arm around Rickon's shoulders. "See I don't get that, spiders hate the cold. Like is it magic or are they mammals here?"
"Only spiders we get in the True North." Tormund nodded solemnly.
Greatjon Umber frowned. "What's a mammal?"
"You know what, ask Fitz. Half cause he'll explain it better, and half cause I want to see his face if you ask that." Daisy smiled sipping at her ale, which she actually liked. Not to mention amused because she'd read enough to know they knew what mammals were here. Sorta. "And I'm gonna go with magic is how you have giant ice spiders. Cause magic is bullshit like that."
Rickon looked at her. "But you're magic?"
"I'm really not. Think more force of nature, less reality warping." Daisy shifted the conversation. "So what about you Greatjon, have you ever seen one of these giant snow spiders?"
The man pulled himself up. "Oh aye, there's all sorts of strange, dark things by the Last Hearth."
Daisy enjoyed the sound of him launching into a story about the singular giant spider he'd seen in his life. Looking just past Rickon's ear she caught Sansa's eye, where Sansa had been discussing something with those new Riverland Lords of hers. And Daisy just felt warm affection and could see those same emotions reflected back at her. She winked, before turning back to the conversation at hand. There was time for the rest of the world later.
Notes:Not a full rant, but can I just say it's fucking fabulous that as readers we don't know if ice spiders are real or not in the ASOIAF series? Like I just think it's neat that line between stories and reality within the world is super blurred, which is dope.
Chapter 80Notes:https://discord.gg/kHx9unTP feel free to hop on over to the server!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextLeonette Tyrell took her seat beside her husband Garlan on the embroidered settee in Lady Olenna's south solar. "The North wants an alliance with Daenerys and means to get that alliance through marriage."
"A daring choice. It might even work," Olenna said into the silence.
Her mother-in-law Alerie spoke up. "Can such a match prevail? He's a Stark bastard, legitimized or not. Our family's security depends on Daenerys Targaryen marrying into our House."
"Our security no longer only depends upon the Dragon Queen." Willas pronounced from where he was spinning his cane between his fingers. "A living god is a far graver risk than dragons." He frowned. "She favors the Starks, encouraging the match between the Starks and our Queen could prove…favorable. Especially if we gain any credit for having aided it."
Leonette considered that, what did Jon bring to the table as a prospective husband to Daenerys Targaryen? "He's not a terrible choice for Daenerys, he's a legitimized Northern bastard, he could never usurp her power. Nor is he likely to even consider such a thing."
"If his mother is Ashara Dayne and the Daynes can be persuaded to admit that fact, the people might even accept such a marriage. It'd certainly pacify the Dornish to some extent over that business with the Sands now that they're dead." Alerie put in.
Garlan grimaced. "If his mother is just a camp follower the Lords won't accept a bastard, legitimized or not, with the Queen. Not lightly."
"Jon may know who his mother was." Leonette put in gently. "Garlan and I can continue to befriend him, he is not as careful with what he says as he should be. Not that he says much unless you coax it out of him."
Willas gave a single nod to her. "Do it. If he proves to be Ashara Dayne or any noble woman's son ensuring he marries the Queen would be an obvious choice to secure favor for ourselves."
"You're thinking too small." Lady Olenna cut in. "We need more than a bit of pithy favor that can be forgotten when the sun rises."
Alerie looked at their matriarch. "And how do we do that? Willas is the only main House Tyrell left to wed. And of Daenerys's inner court there are few whose favor is even worth pursuing."
"There's a goddess." Leonette found herself saying. "Should her favor be seduced away from the Starks…"
Garlan tensed. "It would be worth far more than we could hope for. However, we could give grave insult with such a thing."
"Sansa Stark is a pretty girl, innocence written across her and tragedy in her wake, but not a particularly bright girl," Olenna said. "So our goddess has a taste for pretty things. Daenerys Targaryen is as beautiful as they come, and Willas more than pretty enough for a man. And that's beside the host of our idiot cousins. Surely someone could be found to warm her bed, at least while she is absent from Winterfell."
Leonette frowned. "Jon would take it as an insult."
"Then distract the boy. Besides, if he proves to have an unsuitable mother any of the girls from our various branches would be suitable to keep the boy pacified and bound to us. It could even be used to form a more intricate alliance. There would need to be a series of marriages, but we could facilitate such matches. Besides, I doubt Sansa Stark will hold the North without a goddess to prop her up."
Willas spoke slowly. "And if you're wrong grandmother? Loras wrote in glowing terms of Sansa's leadership and how her people respect her. If you've misjudged her, or if she is more than just a pretty face and a pleasurable fuck to the goddess, this could turn very badly against us."
"Which is why Jon Stark should be befriended that we might learn more, and her Holiness offered whatsoever she might want so long as she is our guest." Olenna looked faintly frustrated she had to state this. "We don't know enough to properly move yet. But you should clean yourself up. All of you, in case there is the faintest chance of her interest falling on anyone. And we must ensure everyone with the name Tyrell knows should her Holiness wish to bed them it needs must happen. If we have to pay sizable dowries to make up for a loss of virginity it'll be a small price to pay."
Leonette felt a sudden pang of horror. "You can't mean all of us." Garlan's hand squeezed her's near painfully.
"Oh, I mean all of us. Even if she wants you and or your husband, that is her right." Olenna's eyes were sharp, it was an order. "There are thousands of daisies growing over every inch of Highgarden, the briar maze has regrown to be as if the fire never touched it. The grass as if it was never overturned by battle. If we fail to gain her favor we may die. I've already lost my son and granddaughter. I won't lose the rest of you. If fucking a goddess is what is needed for us to survive that is what you'll do. It's a small price to pay."
Leonette bit her tongue, because Olenna wasn't wrong, no matter how her stomach rebelled at the idea. She prayed that neither she nor Garlen were to the goddess's tastes. Because she didn't know if she could do it. No matter how necessary. "What about Jaime Lannister?"
"We turn him over to Daenerys and hope she takes the man who stabbed her father in the back as an apology for our choice to ally with House Lannister." Willas said, clearly meaning to settle the matter.
Olenna sighed. "Fine, though there's an important question you're all forgetting to ask."
"What's that?" Willas looked at her with the trust all the Tyrells held in their matriarch.
She sipped at her wine. "Why that cunt Cersei Lannister still breathes. Because Sansa Stark has every reason to want vengeance on the Lannisters same as we do, and a god capable and willing to wipe out armies in her bed. A thing we've just discussed."
Garlan cut in, his voice pained before he visibly shook himself. "But why is Cersei's survival so important?"
Olenna stared at him with the same disappointment she showed anyone who wasn't Margaery. "Because if that god hasn't killed Cersei for her lover, it's because Sansa Stark hasn't asked because she needs Cersei for something, or that god said no. Which means that god might just want Cersei for something. And we'd better figure it out before Daenerys makes her attempt on King's Landing."
Leonette swallowed thickly, they were soon to play host to a Targaryen Queen in addition to their Northern prince, and the thousands of daisies that continued to grow everywhere served as a reminder the living god would be back, and soon. She had better find out what Jon Stark's interests were, he had to have more than just doing his duty and swinging a sword. Her family's lives might depend on it.
////
Arya waited until Daisy left the tower from speaking with her weird cult followers. And then she hopped off her perch and slid in beside this apparent god. "So. I hear you're fucking my sister."
"Hello to you too." Daisy hadn't startled at her sudden appearance, interesting. "And that's a gross way of putting it. Here to threaten me with the consequences if I ever hurt her? Because Jon already did that."
She raised a brow. "Huh, he did, did he?"
"He apologized afterward which kinda undercut the threat." Daisy wasn't bothering to hide the fondness she felt for Jon.
Arya noted that that was three of her siblings who were caught up in this being. "I also hear you're a god, and you're definitely not human?"
"Is that a 'prove you're a god question' or a 'I refuse to believe you're a god,' question?" Daisy rebutted, a curious lack of upset to her.
Arya kept her eyes on her. "There is only one god, and his name is Death."
"Like a god of death? Or the existential concept of death itself?" Daisy paused in her stride looking at her properly.
She tilted her head slightly. "The second."
"Morbid, but from that point of view I'm not a god, I'm just an incredibly powerful person...creature?" Daisy shrugged. "I don't create life or whatever or control some fundamental aspect of reality."
Arya pivoted slightly so that she was fully facing the 'god'. "It doesn't bother you that I don't think you're a god?"
"No, although I don't think the existential concept of death is sentient?" Daisy frowned. "Probably?" She shrugged. "At this point, I wouldn't be surprised."
This certainly explained a lot about how weird the Order was. "No arguments that you can't be killed?"
"I've gotten really close to dying a concerning amount of times. Something will get me eventually." Daisy tipped her chin up ever so slightly. "But I haven't lost yet."
Arya felt a flicker of memory of Tywin saying something similar to what felt like a lifetime ago at Harrenhall. She wondered how many battles this 'god' had fought to stand with the same confidence? "Lot of people tried to kill you then?"
"Want me to count other gods and monsters or just the humans?" Daisy had a smirk on her lips.
Arya felt a matching grin growing on her face. "Any of them still alive?"
"Not very many." Daisy rocked back on her heels. "How many of the ones who tried to kill you are still alive?"
She could feel her teeth showing. "Not very many." Arya enjoyed the quiet understanding. It also struck her as curious that the more masculine and practical clothing the 'god' was wearing looked as natural and comfortable on her as the summer gown she'd been wearing the day before. "So if you're not a god, what should I call you?"
Daisy laughed. "How about a person? Though you're in for a lot of arguing if you try to convince anyone I'm not a god. I've just accepted it at this point."
"A person. Interesting. So, are you a person too busy to train?" Arya was curious to see how her skills measured up.
Daisy shook her head, laughter in her voice. "You Northerners. Sure, I'll spar with you."
Arya folded her hands behind her back. "Good, and you may wish to get shirts with higher collars. I could see my sister's teeth in your neck this morning."
"It's healed now, kinda disappointing really." Daisy turned and began to walk towards the courtyard most used for sparring.
Her nose wrinkled as she followed. "Hilarious, but did not need to know that about my sister."
"If it makes you feel better, Jon's worst off on that score." Daisy remarked without a flicker of shame whatsoever.
Arya was fascinated, but she could respect it. "You don't care very much about what people think of you?"
"Only the opinions of the people who I care about matter." Daisy shrugged. "And why on earth should I feel weird about a hickey?"
She couldn't help it, she laughed.
Arya unsheathed her sword Needle, watching how Daisy easily flipped a single knife out, how her steps and weight were all balanced. A part of her was tempted to ask if Daisy didn't want a sword, but no, she understood enough about the woman's stance to know it wasn't that she was being dismissed. How she stood was closer to a Bravosi water dancer than a knight.
Arya stepped lightly, balanced as they circled each other. And then she lightly struck out to test how fast she was.
Daisy was fast and strong as she used her dagger to snap the blade away from her, and then she was sliding in close, her open hand dropped on Arya's forearm. And then Arya was lashing out. Daisy smoothly moved, sliding out of the way, while using her arm to force Arya to the side, then hooked her foot and Arya's back hit the ground.
She wheezed, staring up at the sky. A delighted grin spread across her face, and then she was leaping back to her feet, lips pulled back excited to keep fighting.
A minute later she was hitting the ground again from a kick.
A minute after that she was flipped again.
Wiping at her mouth she hopped to her feet again. "You're holding back."
"You're good, footwork is awesome." Daisy grinned right back at her.
Arya slid a knife out, a sword was pointless against an opponent fast and skilled enough to not just parry but break your form at first contact.
Staring up at the sky Arya decided that switching to the preferred range and weapon of her opponent had probably been very stupid. Also, she hurt…a lot, was soaked in sweat, and was breathing heavily. Her eyes flicked to the hand being held out to her by Daisy who was standing over her.
"Need a hand?" Daisy at least wasn't perfectly put together even if she annoyingly barely had a change in breathing.
Arya took the hand and let herself be pulled to her feet. "You're an annoying opponent."
"It is a bad match-up for you." Daisy laughed as she let go of her hand. "You specialize in speed and flexibility and depend on outmaneuvering your opponent. Which doesn't work against someone as fast and flexible as you who specializes in outmaneuvering but also has the advantage in reach and strength."
She accepted that it was true enough. Though she would pay to see Brienne or Greatjon or someone used to using their strength meet someone quick but also their superior in a game of muscle. "No rigid honor code to make things fairer?"
"Yeah nope. I'm a terrible cook if it makes you feel better?" Daisy offered.
Arya considered that. "How are you at lying?"
Arya was focused on the god across from her. "I watched children be eaten alive by rats."
"Truth." Daisy replied slowly.
Arya made a noise of irritation. "Fine, your turn."
"I lived in Afterlife for three years." Daisy said.
Arya's eyes narrowed, there wasn't so much a tell as she had a feeling about it. "Lie."
"Shit." Daisy's nose wrinkled as she reached out and lifted up the bottle of fermented pickle juice that was sitting between them on the bench and took a disgusted swig of it. She made a sound of deep revulsion as she set it back down while gesturing toward Arya.
She went with one of her kills off of her list. "I stabbed out Meryn Trant's eyes before I slit his throat."
Daisy's head shifted slightly. "Truth." She dropped her hands onto her knees. "The most intimidating person I've ever fought was a small, middle-aged, human woman."
"Lie." Arya rolled her eyes only to still as she saw the grin on Daisy's face. "Fuck, really?"
Daisy leaned back slightly. "Drink, and May would kill me if she knew I said anything about her age."
She took her swig of the foul drink. Gods it clung to her tongue and burned her sinuses. Shaking her head she refocused. But fuck Daisy not being affected by alcohol made regular drink a pointless forfeit. "I was Tywin Lannister's cupbearer."
////
As Sansa entered her private chambers, she understood immediately that tonight would be more like their conversations from before things had changed between them. Sitting on the fur by the fire, a cup of tea cradled in her hands, staring into the fire, was Daisy. Sansa sighed, taking off her heavy outer cloak and laying it aside. Pulling off her leather gloves, she set them on the table before pouring her own cup of tea. With quiet steps she approached before sinking down onto the soft fur beside Daisy. She took a sip of her tea. "Quite a lot has happened, hasn't it?"
"That's one way to put it." Daisy shot her a brief amused look before looking back into the fire. "I wonder sometimes if who I was before…if everything I was would hate who I am now." She scoffed. "I've proved everyone who was ever afraid of me right."
Sansa wished she was still young enough to just offer kindness. "Why would a younger you think that?"
"The first time I held a gun, a real one, the man I was holding it on asked me if I had what it took to pull the trigger." She huffed. "I didn't. I jumped out of a second-story window to avoid getting murdered as soon as we all realized that despite having the weapon I wasn't going to use it."
She felt a thrum of amusement at the idea of this younger and likely human version of her lover, doing something as ridiculous as jumping out of a window. It was exactly the sort of ridiculousness that suited the woman. "How old were you?"
"Seventeen." Daisy frowned. "Once I had powers I worked so hard to keep them controlled I was shattering my own body, I only used them as a blunt force - anything to prove I wasn't a monster."
Sansa sipped at her tea thinking about what Daisy was expressing. "I think we both know that what makes a monster isn't power or even killing. People may fear you, you're more powerful than I think any of us really understand." She reached out, touching Daisy's shoulder and meeting her gaze. "But that doesn't mean evil."
"I killed an army, and I feel…nothing." Daisy was looking at her like she was…waiting for something.
Sansa squeezed her shoulder. "Do you think I'm a monster for ruining the Forresters, for cutting off Torrhen Whitehill's head? For the no doubt thousands I will have ordered to their deaths by the time this is done? Let alone by the end of my life should it prove to be a long one?"
"No." Daisy set her tea aside, and gently took the hand from her shoulder and linked their fingers together. "Lord Forrester was an idiot. You'd have had infighting if your Lords thought they could get away with leveraging your favor to settle personal disputes. And it would have destroyed the united front you've built."
Sansa ran her thumb along Daisy's where their hands had ended up resting between them. "Thank you."
"Of course, I think the whole monarchy thing is dumb as rocks. Like you're all one stupid or mean baby away from anarchy." Daisy huffed. "It's a terrible way of choosing a leader. But for all that, your people are very lucky to have you. One head, and one Lord's downfall, and your entire country continues to have a chance at surviving. You made the hard choice, and you did it with all the kindness you could. Don't think I missed what you're doing with Mira, or saving the Whitehill girl."
Sansa felt a warm ember in her chest at the simple understanding. "You killed one army and saved a kingdom, and utterly reshaped the death toll the southern war will see. I see what you and Jon are doing. The position you are putting me in. I can even see the sense in it, it might even work. I don't think your actions were so different from mine, only perhaps on a larger scale."
Daisy looked at her for a long moment. "You always think the best of me."
"More people should." Sansa didn't understand it exactly, everything Daisy had done had been to protect or help others. She looked away. "I expected to feel…more when I cut Lord Whitehill's head off. I just found it distasteful and a relief that I managed it in one swing."
Daisy hummed. "It's easy to kill someone. The only deaths I've ever regretted were the ones when I was under Hive's control."
"Maybe that's the difference. You lack guilt because it was necessary because you still hold what you achieved through violence as worth the sacrifice. I think that was why father was so firm to the old ways, that the one who passes the sentence swings the sword. If you are unable to deliver the sentence, then maybe it should not have been made in the first place." Sansa wished she'd listened more and been given more to listen to from her father.
Daisy shifted, something Sansa didn't quite understand. "I don't know who I'd be if there was nothing to fight."
"You're a protector. There will always be people to protect. Just how, as long as a single member of my family lives and the North still stands, my place will be in Winterfell." Sansa knew as certainly as she said it that it was why what they had and were for each other couldn't last. Because much as Daisy might not say it, she was loyal to her duty just as Sansa was to her's. She pressed their shoulders together. If this was not to last she would not spurn what happiness there was, no matter how fleeting.
Daisy was warm and soft as she leaned back, a gentle return of affection. They both stayed there quietly and together for a few peaceful minutes before Daisy laughed. "We always seem to end up discussing depressing things while sitting on the floor."
"We do." Sansa couldn't help the giggle at that. It was truly ridiculous. "What else should we talk about?"
Daisy nudged her gently, her tone teasing. "Well, apparently you Starks are a possessive bunch."
"Excuse me? We are not." Sansa looked at her in disbelief.
"Oh? You're not, are you?" Daisy definitely had suppressed laughter in her tone. "So Rickon and you both being absolutely set on not seeing me in Tyrell colors yesterday was a total coincidence? Because a Stark sure had a cloak with Stark colors over the top of the dress the second he could. And a different Stark was very eager to rip the thing off me." Her lips were curled up in smug amusement. "And your sister definitely noticed the mark your teeth left in my neck from this morning."
Sansa felt her face turning a bright red. She shoved at her shoulder. "You're being ridiculous!"
"I don't think I am." Daisy laughed and reached out, caught her face, and kissed her.
Sansa sighed into Daisy's mouth. She leaned her forehead against Daisy's, eyes closed. "The Tyrells certainly meant it as a claim."
"I think Leonette's gown was the nicest one they had that would fit me and I had blood on what I was wearing when I got there." Daisy pulled back, her eyes warm and crinkled around the sides.
If it was Jon she'd insist on explaining that yes, the Tyrells very much selected the single most Tyrell coated piece of clothing they could find that would fit. And yes they very much would give anything for the slightest claim or stake on her. But well, Daisy wasn't Jon…actually. "You're sure Jon isn't going to get seduced into Tyrell clutches?"
"Jon?" Daisy laughed. "Please, he's too honorable to do anything. He'd climb out the window if he had to."
Sansa couldn't help the giggling laughter that burst out of her. "Oh gods, he really would."
Notes:You know I was reading a reddit post the other day about how basically, Ned would have been fine if he hadn't of had the worst run of luck in Westerosi history. And they're not wrong. Ned might not be a particularly politically astute character, and he does have a blind spot to the implication/results of his behavior towards jon, but man isn't an idiot. Like so many things had to happen for him to end up at the headsman's block. The assassin after Bran had to fail so Cat would investigate and become convinced his fall was attempted murder by the Lannisters, Petyr had to dupe Cat, Cat had to bump into Tyrion in a random fucking inn, Cat had to kidnap Tyrion publicly, Tywin had to be a moron and invade the Riverlands, Jamie had to be a moron and attack Ned in the streets killing some of his best men and seriously wounding Ned, Cersei had to be a moron and not flee in the night, Cersei's dumbass Loony Tunes passive assassination attempt against the King she had in the works before knowing her and her childrens' lives were on the line had to work, the man Ned was told by his wife to trust had to turn against him, Stannis had to ignore all summons to court, and finally Joffrey had to ignore all advice and common sense and win moron of the hour award by ordering Ned's head. Like Ned's run of shit luck just...he was not equipped for dealing with that.
And yes, there are multiple moments where Ned could have salvaged the whole thing. But all those methods for salvaging the situation would have required him going against his morals and principles. A thing he was not willing to do until it was his childrens' lives being threatened. And by then it was too late. Which is just...really tragic. Because Ned had a plan, at every stage and other people being stupid as fuck ruined it for him. Well, stupid or malicious, sometimes both. Cause like Robert dying, holy shit that was lucky as hell for Cersei. Robert had already left on the hunt, which means that attempt to kill him had to already be underway. She had no way of setting that in motion after Ned told her. So she had to already be trying to kill Robert. Robert's hunting part that went out after stag had to happen upon a boar. Robert had to drink enough of the hard liquor to be sloppy but not so much as to pass out when he gets to the boar. His Kingsguard, retainers, everyone has to fail to protect him, and then Robert has to be savaged in such a way it's fatal. Like...the fact that worked is insane. I mean you gotta appritate it implies Cersei's probably just been having his alcohol spiked on hunts for years in the hopes it'd kill him eventually and then at the critical moment it finally fucking did.
Or like Tywin invading the Riverlands? Like...that's so dumb. Tywin should have set his army on the border, rocked up to court and demanded Tyrion back. Like he would have been in the legal right and is father in law to the King. And Cat was being insane kidnapping Tyrion. Tywin could have literally just rocked up like 'return my son or I will raise you to the fucking ground' and probably have gotten his way. But no, instead he had start a full scale civil war against a third party where the King, had he not been assassinated by Loony Tunes plot, would have sided against him. And Robert just has to go 'who wants to kill some Lannisters for starting this war, and half the continent would have been stabbing before he could finish the sentence. Tywin and Cat deserve like a Morons are Us shirt for starting an entire war because they both did what they wanted without bothering about the consequences.
Chapter 81Notes:Yo!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextConin shuffled into the learning hall in the tower. He met his god's eyes over the full benches of the Order members working on their writing, and he bowed his head. His eyes were squeezed shut as he stayed bent. He shuddered at the feel of a hand on his shoulder.
"You can raise your head." Her voice was so painfully kind.
He straightened, eyes welling with tears. "Holiness, I…"
"Hey, you're ok." She dropped her hand from his shoulder, but her face stayed kind. "Come on, let's go talk." And she turned and gestured for him to follow her and walked towards her quarters.
Conin swallowed, hands shaking from sheer relief that at least she was not angry with him, and followed after her. He appreciated the friendly looks and gestures of luck sent his way from Order members very carefully pretending to be paying attention to Duncan's latest grammar lesson. It helped to know they had not turned their backs on him for his choice. His spine was perfectly straight, hands clasped behind his back as the door closed behind him. He would face whatever her Holiness said. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Hogg was writing something on her Holiness's desk for her.
"Oh damn, Brienne's really trained you guys to stand all properly." Daisy huffed in amusement as she looked at him, yanking his attention completely to herself and away from Hogg. "So, Ser Conin Lovewell, congratulations on the marriage."
His mouth was dry. "I am grateful for the trust you placed in me, I didn't mean to disrespect you or-"
She held up her hand. "You don't need to apologize." Daisy leaned against the table. "Did I ever tell you much about Coulson?"
He blinked in confusion, his posture softened slightly. "Not much your Holiness. That you loved him, that he was a mortal you considered your father. He was a leader in SHIELD." Conin knew he was forgetting something, but Daisy rarely spoke of the people she cared for from her own world. "You spoke of some battles you fought beside him in."
"He never married or had kids of his own despite it being something he'd have been good at. He had like 'dad' written all over him. It was a choice he made when he signed up for SHIELD. He knew that he'd always choose SHIELD over a family and that it wouldn't be fair to a family he might build. It's easy to die for a cause you believe in, to die doing what's right. It's not easy to tell someone you love to do it." She looked sad as she spoke. "I don't think either of us realized what we'd mean to each other at first, and by the time we did, it was too late. We both did stupid things to protect each other, put other people's lives at risk because of what we meant to each other."
Conin stayed silent listening, he didn't understand why he was being trusted with this. But he was honored, and, he thought he might understand the point.
"The death toll when humans try to stand on the same ground as gods is…it's obscene. He loved me like a daughter, left everything to me when he died. But I always knew that SHIELD would always come first. It was just who he was. And maybe I'm like him in that way. Because he made a choice, he could have lived or he could ensure our world was saved. And he chose the world, he chose to make me more than just a demi-god so I could kill anything that threatened our world. But that choice meant he died, and he knew I didn't want it, the power and everything that came with it." She scoffed. "He sacrificed himself, and me to protect our world. It was the right choice but it wasn't…" She frowned before shaking her head. "Being torn between family and duty sucks. You're not wrong not to want to be faced with that choice."
Conin's voice felt thick. "I couldn't sacrifice my family to you."
"I wouldn't want you to." She looked over at Hogg. "You guys do know I don't want you sacrificing yourselves for me at all right? Like it's one thing to sacrifice yourself for a goal. It's very different to do it for me specifically."
Hogg looked at her, it was kinda written on his face that he and every last one of them would throw themselves on a sword for her. "We know, your Holiness."
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I swear if any of you idiots try and die for me I'm going to be really upset. And you all can get married if you want. It's hard to balance but like that's totally your choice."
Conin smiled ever so slightly, that was a losing argument. And he felt…he could be proud of his choice. Which meant everything.
////
Petyr Baelish watched Sansa as she walked along the high walls of Winterfell, her god at her elbow. A public display that even the most common of people would see and understand. "She really is brilliant." He'd underestimated how much she had learned from watching, foolish of him.
"I was right to support her as Queen." Lord Manderly declared with all the conviction of a simple man. Unfortunately, the man had a brain, even if he lacked the imagination for his ambitions to be particularly interesting.
He noted the ease of arguably the two most powerful women on the continent as they spoke with each other; he was unsure of how much control of the southern situation the Targaryen had. "You most certainly were, quite daring to risk choosing the girl over her brothers."
"Rickon will grow to be a fine man, possibly even a great one. Jon already is one. But great men rarely live long in this world." Manderly sighed. "Good men even less so."
Baelish found it really a shame someone like Manderly kept himself shackled to things like family, honor, and duty. It was so limiting. If things were different he might even be a worthy opponent instead of a mere tool. "Wise words." His eyes trailed over the shape of Sansa above them on the wall. "I believe our Queen may be in love." An interesting development to be sure.
"Reckon you're right. Certainly took a great deal to earn her affection." Manderly chuckled. "Someday when her Holiness is gone I feel for the poor fuckers who are going to try and woo her."
Baelish liked to think of it as an opportunity. Sansa would take the smart choice after losing the last wisps of romanticism. Of course, she'd have been in the same position if Stannis hadn't been a damned fool. With Ramsey and then rescued by that brutish fool Stannis and she'd have taken his offer of safety. What is love or trust in exchange for safety after experiencing the worst? Someone else wasn't supposed to swoop in and offer safety and trust. Fortunately, it was destined to be brief. Doomed romances, completely idiotic, if useful. "I imagine no man will measure up after a god."
"Well, she has three brothers and a sister. No need for her to ever marry again if she doesn't want to." Manderly pushed his gloved hands into his thick green tunic.
He was really going to have to arrange an accident for Rickon Stark if the boy proved to be a possible threat. The girl, Arya, could easily be handled. She would be useful to send out to do her sister's bidding. If not, well, it wouldn't be hard to make her look treasonous. Jon was too stupid to be a threat without someone sponsoring him. Bran was irrelevant, easy to get rid of if needed. "There is that, I worry some fool may think to make his move while her Holiness is still here."
"What fool would be stupid enough to try?" Manderly scoffed only to seemingly pause. "That was a stupid question."
Baelish gave a faint tip of his head. "She is a great beauty, unmarried, and holds great power. Many men have done far stupider over far less." And he was going to have to ensure someone did. After all, he could use that stupidity to gain ground in court, and remove possible competition before they knew it was one. Spoiling the well.
"Well, I suppose such foolishness will be entertaining to witness." Manderly shook his head.
He made a sound of agreement, his eyes never leaving Sansa's form. She was beautiful, possibly even more than her mother had been. There was a regality to her that drew all around her. And so much power. Chaos may be a ladder, but she was the rung on that ladder that would see his dreams fulfilled. And if she didn't, it'd be a loss, but he could do just as well with a child of theirs. A year or two of allowing her to fuck a god was nothing before that. "I will speak to Lord Royce, delaying the inevitable can only aid us. But aside from that Lord Manderly, what are your thoughts on the Riverlands?"
////
Daisy paused as she saw Rickon and Lyanna trotting toward her. She smiled. "Rickon, Lady Mormont."
"Please, you've knocked me in the dirt enough, titles are pointless." Lyanna scoffed as she stopped, looking at her. "We wanted to know how long you'll be here for this time?"
She smiled, ruffling Rickon's hair. It was just so curly and shaggy, not ruffling it felt like a crime. Also, he was at that adorable age where he was hitting his growth spurt and was all huffy about how he was tall and not a little kid anymore. "Another day at longest. Can't leave Jon alone with southern court ladies for too long or he'll lock himself in his room."
The kids both snickered. Rickon grinned. "Will you teach us tomorrow before you leave though?"
"Of course." Daisy dropped her hands on her hips. "Duncan says you two have been keeping up with the men's morning drills. Good for you, both of you."
They both puffed up in pride. Lyanna seemed to realize she was and tried to act more serious. "Yes well, it is only logical. I can hardly be a great warrior if I don't put in the effort required to become one."
"Keep up the work and you'll be a terror to fight." Daisy meant it too, Lyanna might be small now, but she wouldn't be for long. She tilted her head. "How old are you two?"
Lyanna tipped her chin up. "I'm one and ten."
"My nameday is next week." Rickon's face lit up. "I'll be two and ten!"
She softened looking at them. They were just kids. "That's really great, you excited then?"
"It's winter and we're at war." Rickon shrugged, scratching at one ear. "It's not very important."
Daisy had a feeling Sansa would be making the day a celebration. But then maybe it wasn't a big thing culturally? Rickon's face said it was important to him. "Getting older is something to celebrate." She slung her arm around Rickon's shoulders, dropping a hand on Lyanna's shoulder. "Come on, if we're late to supper Sansa will give us her disappointed look."
"It's the worst." Rickon agreed as he happily let himself be pulled along.
Lyanna looked at both of them. "Cowards."
"Do you want her to be unhappy with you?" Rickon asked, clearly challenging her.
Lyanna's sharp little eyes glared at both of them. "Her Grace is only unhappy with idiots, I'm not an idiot. I fail to see the issue."
"You are spectacular, please never change." Daisy yanked the kid closer; she had one kid under each arm. It was great. Lyanna clearly wanted to elbow her in the gut and keep some dignity but wasn't going to because 'god'. Also, the girl was as touch starved as any orphan, as was proved by how after a second, Lyanna leaned into the contact. Daisy smiled softly. Well crap, she was going to have to figure out two birthday presents then, because she was pretty sure Lyanna had been ten when they'd first met. Which meant she'd missed it. But for now, dinner.
Daisy felt like sighing in contentment at the warm stew and hot bread. She'd kind of missed it, even if the food down south had been more varied. And fruit…if the North had fresh fruit that would be real cool. "I was talking with Rickon and he mentioned his nameday is coming up?"
"Yes. Actually, if you wouldn't mind sending your men for some holly to decorate the hall with it I'd appreciate it." Sansa replied easily.
She tipped her head. "Of course. I had a question actually, why do you call it a nameday instead of a birthday?"
Lord Glover set his mug down with a loud crack. "You mean to say the gods celebrate the day of the actual birth?"
Daisy glanced at the curious nobility suddenly paying attention to her. "Well yeah? I mean some religious groups have namedays too for the date a child is baptized which is…a ritual dedicating a child to the service of the Catholic god. I think a few other religions have something similar. But yeah you get splashed with some holy water, there's some oil. You get dedicated to a specific saint. So usually some old dead person who died serving the Catholic god. Which, uh, retrospectively hilarious the nuns totally baptized me. My patron saint was Isidore of Seville, who cool dude, but considering Catholics are a bit like your followers of R'hllor let's just say it's kinda funny I ended up not being human." She actually was still fond of Isidore, seriously, he was the patron saint of the internet and programmers. Lot of bees in his artwork…so many bees.
"You were dedicated to the service of another god?" Sansa asked, completely baffled looking.
She shrugged. "I mean the orphanage was run by basically the equivalent of Silent Sisters so yeah? I'm not sure their god is even real. I mean, maybe, but…" Daisy frowned slightly and shook her head. "Anyways, that religion doesn't even exist here so that can't be why you call it a nameday."
"I believe Lord Glover's confusion comes from the fact we celebrate from the day a child is named, not of their actual birth." Lord Baelish cut in. "So many babes don't survive those first few weeks."
Greatjon nodded solemnly. "Aye, the Wildlings don't name their children till they're two years old. We only wait two months here south of the Wall."
"That makes sense." Daisy didn't mention the sudden feeling of horror at that. Because of course, the infant mortality rates here had to be horrifically high. "Sorry, it must seem like a stupid question."
Sansa gently touched her leg under the table. "Not at all. It is easy to forget how strange we must all seem to you on occasion."
"And I doubt namedays or birthdays hold much meaning to you." Baelish tipped his head. "After all, I find with every passing year they come faster and seem less important to be marked."
Glover snorted. "I can drink to that. The years do begin to blend after a while."
"Years must seem quite insignificant to you, your Holiness." Greatjon chuckled as he took a long drink from his ale.
Daisy felt her brow furrow. "I'm…wait, how old do you think I am?"
"Oh, I don't think any of us would hazard a guess as dangerous as that." Baelish raised his cup to her in salute.
She looked around at the faces of a group of people who all clearly had a very set idea. "No really, how old do you think I am?"
Manderly looked at her curiously. "The new gods are over six thousand years old, we had assumed you were perhaps a thousand or so years younger than that? Is that badly wrong, your Holiness?"
Fitz let out a high-pitched, startled laugh from where he was sitting further down the table and had been poking at his meal. "Wait, seriously."
"That's off, by…a lot." Daisy paused. "I'm…sorry it gets weird with jumping around through time. I think I'm twenty-four? Might still be twenty-three, I'm not really sure."
Several people choked, the sound died off from everyone in earshot. Greatjon's mouth was actually hanging open, an action he wasn't alone in. Fitz made a wheezing sound as he ruthlessly bit down on his tongue. Daisy glanced around in confusion at their shocked faces, hell, even Sansa looked like her brain was rebooting.
Somehow it was Lyanna who recovered first. "You have so many titles?"
"I mean I guess? People just keep giving them to me." She would normally have rolled her eyes, but they were kinda freaking her out at the moment. They were being ridiculous. "Constant fighting for six years does that."
Manderly laughed. "Well, I'll be. I suppose youth doesn't preclude one from achieving greatness." He raised a cup towards her, and Sansa.
Several men made agreeing sounds, and conversation slowly started again.
Daisy shook her head before suddenly grinning at the expression on Sansa's face. It was subtle, but Sansa was still shocked. "You really thought I was that old?"
"I feel very foolish considering our many conversations about your time with SHIELD, but yes I had assumed." Sansa looked at her. "It certainly makes several things about you make more sense."
She laughed, oh it was burning Sansa to have been that wrong about it. "Like what?"
"Your confusion at being worshipped." Sansa raised a brow. "It's not that you aren't in your world, it's that it's new."
Daisy nodded. "Fair, but thousands of years?"
"I'd been assuming closer to a thousand." Sansa corrected as if that made it better.
She snickered as she picked up her mug of ale. "This probably makes me a terrible person, but since you clearly were wrong too, how old are you, and please say I didn't miss you having a nameday while I've been here?"
"Just before I was crowned actually." Sansa's lips twitched. "And I'm nine and ten."
Daisy went completely still as she processed that. "Nineteen? You're nineteen."
"Yes?" Sansa was looking at her strangely then.
Daisy for once actually ignored that. Because…nineteen. How…on what planet was Sansa Stark a teenager? Oh, she actually was the Miles in this situation wasn't she? That…that did not feel good. She stared down at her bowl in front of her. "Fuck."
"Daisy? What's wrong with my age?" Sansa was genuinely confused sounding as she touched her shoulder lightly.
It was…fuck, Daisy had untensed ever so slightly just automatically at the contact. "You were eighteen when we met." Which…how?!
Fitz apparently had definitely heard, because he started laughing again, he wheezed as he looked at them. "Oh god, that's so good."
Baelish spoke up, confusion on his stupid, slimy face. "If you would care to enlighten us?"
Which…how to even describe the…
"We don't consider a person an adult till they're eighteen." Fitz cut in, wiping an actual tear from his eye. His stupid Scottish accent was quite thick actually. "She'll be fine. She's having a slight panic attack at how close she apparently got to breaking the law."
Somehow it was still Baelish who was processing this fast enough. Or maybe it shouldn't be surprising at all. "The law?"
"It can get murky if a person is sixteen or older, but it's generally considered rape for an adult to have sex with a person under the age of eighteen. Even by our standards Sansa and Daisy are fine, but c-close enough she'll get so much crap when we get home." Fitz's hands waved as he spoke.
Daisy picked up her bread roll and chucked it at his head. "You're the worst." She caught Sansa's hand under the table, linking their fingers together.
"Adults are so weird." Rickon piped up from where he was looking around at everyone. "I mean Daisy's clearly about Fitz's age. Why did you all think she was ancient?" His face was scrunched up.
Daisy just gave up and buried her face in her free hand and laughed. Her shoulders shook with it. Oh god, this whole meal had been ridiculous.
Notes:So came upon this video on Tuesday, and uh, I adore it? 10/10 recommend it all the way. It's on the psychology of Eddard Stark. Really good. And I appreciate the point of why Ned is so hard on Jamie. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdSxgGwsnkk&ab_channel=MyLittleThoughtTree
Specifically, he doesn't know about the wildfyre, and he knows Jamie has done his duty despite atrocities so the idea it was a moral qualm isn't the obvious reason. If Jamie was going to turn on Aerys for moral reasons he'd have done it before from Ned's perspective. And Ned has just marched through King's Landing in the early hours after Tywin's famously horrific sacking of the city. He walks through the horrors of intentional brutalization, murder, and rape of thousands. He gets to the throne room to Jamie sitting on the throne with the king dead at his feet. That really looks like Jamie coordinated that with his father. And then the bodies of Aegon and Rhaenys get brought in, Rhaenys barefoot and in her nightgown. And they are so brutalized they have to cover their bodies. Ellia has been raped and murdered. Crimes that happened on Tywin's command, crimes committed against people Jamie was sworn to protect.
So like…I get Ned not asking questions. That seems really blatantly obvious as to what happened. And Jamie is a son of Tywin, he is arrogant and he does despise being thought less than. So Jamie doesn't try to defend himself. He just takes it and acts like people's words don't hurt him, but by doing so is accidentally confirming everyone's worst assumptions. And to make it worse, Ned is 20. And in the time between then and when Game of Thrones takes place like…nothing has happened or been done or said to make him re-think his assumptions about Jamie. So yeah, it makes sense he loathes the man.