Daenerys stared at the fabric of her tent, where two pieces of it met. It had come with her from Essos and had been repaired twice already, against the differing climate of Westeros. The North had battered all of their tents and Daenerys had had to ask for Northern women to help with the repairs, as she had brought few women across from Essos and even fewer of her men knew how to work with fabric. Sansa had been very efficient in sending her help.
Sansa had been a revelation. Dany had not ever had a female adviser, unless she counted Missandei. Missandei was her closest friend but she knew little about tactics. Her main role within Dany's council was cultural, particularly with languages, but she understood cultures in general very well. So, it was perhaps inaccurate to say that Dany had never had a female adviser. But she had never had another noble lady who she trusted enough to advise her.
Dany trusted Sansa. At first, she had been doubtful, as anybody would be, when greeted with the wife of one's enemy, but Sansa had proven her worth, proven her political acumen and become Dany's friend, as well as marrying Dany's closest adviser.
Every time Dany thought about the original plan to arrive at Westeros - to land on Dragonstone and not in the North - she squirmed with discomfort. She could not imagine not having come to the North first, to save Sansa, to defeat Ramsay Bolton in her first significant victory and to meet Jon Snow.
Oh, Dany knew that Tyrion had suggested they land in the North because he knew that Sansa was in danger, rather than it necessarily being the perfect landing point for an attack. She knew that he felt loyalty to his wife and Dany understood that, though she did prickle with resentment at the idea that he had risked her victory for his own gains. But the risk had paid off and, in fact, it had been very successful. They had arrived, been victorious and now they were continuing on with the Northerners' support.
Dany lay her hands flat on her lap. Sansa and Jon Snow had been key to earning the Northern support. If they had not led the way, Dany was not sure that other Northerners would have followed, but they had. The Mormont women had sworn to Dany and many other of the Northern houses, too, had sent their men to march south. Dany hoped that it was because they liked the idea of her having the throne but she knew that it likely had a lot to do with not liking Cersei too. There had been an influx of men after they had learned of King Tommen and Queen Margaery's deaths and Cersei's coronation.
With a sigh, Dany stood. She had come in to rest a while before dinner. Her Dothraki soldiers were hunting this day, the Northerners the next and the Unsullied the day after that. A bit of healthy competition was good. It ensured that the soldiers brought back enough for all of the troops. Their pride meant that they always wanted to beat however much the previous set of soldiers had brought back the previous day.
Before Dany could leave her tent, the curtains ruffled and revealed Daario to her. Dany swallowed. In his face, she could see the anger and resentment that the past few weeks had grown inside him. She had ignored him, had realised that she didn't love him, had kissed Jon Snow, not that Daario knew that last one.
"Daario," Dany said with a heavy sigh. She had put this conversation off for too long. It had been weak to bring Daario and the Second Sons to Westeros.
"No," he said before she could speak.
Dany shook her head. "Daario, I need you to go home and secure Meereen."
"No."
"Yes, Daario."
"I serve you best here."
"No, you serve me best where I send you and I am sending you back to Meereen."
"That isn't fair. Daenerys, let me stay- I love you."
Daenerys closed her eyes. "Don't, Daario. I am asking you to leave, to serve me as you swore to do. Go to Meereen and hold it for me."
He met her eyes when she opened them. Anger swelled there rather than sadness. Dany sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. Daario chuckled, a bitter sound, and then shook his head, retreating from the tent.
It was not a surprise to Dany that she only felt relief and not sadness.
XXX
"I came to ask you," Dany said quietly that night. She was in his tent. It had been a shock to Jon when she had appeared in his tent just after dinner. "I came to ask you to share my tent."
Jon's eyebrows rose. "Your grace," he started, looking about himself. It was dark. He couldn't lie and say that he had thought entirely innocently of Dany's appearance in his tent, but he had not been expecting such an invitation, especially when Daario Naharis was still hanging around, shooting Jon bitter, angry looks whenever they crossed paths.
Dany cut him off with a kiss and then hardly drew away. They were very close. She was shorter than him, though admittedly not much so. She was looking up into his eyes, wide and sparkling purple. Jon chuckled. "Your grace, it would be improper to share your tent. It would be a statement that I am not sure you truly want to make."
Jon watched her pull away with a feeling of dissatisfaction. She sighed. "You are very honourable, Jon Snow."
"Thank you," Jon said uneasily, feeling that she had more to say.
"I sent Daario back to Meereen with the Second Sons."
"Oh," Jon said, though not really in surprise. He had not seen Dany and Daario share a kind word or a pleased look since he had known them. Dany was watching him. He wondered if she was trying to figure out whether he was happy or not at that news. "Why did you do that?"
"Because I don't love him."
"Did you ever love him?" Dany gave him a small smile and shook her head.
"I think I could love you."
Her words were bold and they sent Jon's heart racing in a way that it hadn't since Ygritte. Even so, he knew enough of the world that a bastard was no good as a partner for a queen, especially a queen who wanted to - needed to - win support. She needed to marry a - Jon went through the remaining great families. Of the Starks, there was only a young boy and a missing one. And even Bran was too young for her. The Tyrell heir was gone, leaving only a grandmother. The Lannisters were both married. The Arryn boy was young and weak and the Greyjoy heir was a woman. Jon's uncle Edmure was married to one of the Freys, although Jon wasn't sure if she had survived the massacre of the Twins that they had received news of. Jon truthfully had no clue of what was happening with the Martells and the Baratheons had been wiped out.
Dany would have to marry a nephew or a cousin, or a young boy, if she wanted to marry one of the great families. And she would have to marry and provide an heir, or nobody would support her. Perhaps Tyrion would choose one of his nephews as Daenerys' husband.
"Jon," Dany said, her eyes wide and hurt. He had not responded to what he had said.
He sighed. "Dany, I can't- I am sworn to help you in any way that I can. I won't curse your victory by tying you to a bastard. You need a man at your side who will win you support, a Lannister or a Martell, perhaps."
Dany took a step back from him. "I already have Jaime Lannister's armies. I have his alliance. I didn't need to marry anyone to secure them. Dorne is ruled by women, the bastards of Oberyn. I have sent ravens to ask for an alliance but I doubt one of them will want to marry me. The heirs of the great houses are young and weak, or non-existent. I could- I could make you Lord Stark."
"No," Jon said, his eyes flaring. He could never hold his father's title. He was not a Stark and certainly no Lord. "That is Bran's- or Rickon's, or Sansa will be its lady forever. The people would see it as wrong for you to give me that title and then marry me."
"But you would marry me?" Dany asked.
"Don't ask me that," he sighed.
"Why?" she demanded. "I am Queen of Westeros. I should be allowed to choose my own husband."
"That is precisely why you can't," Jon countered. "The less victories you buy with your alliances, the more you have to buy with death. Make an alliance with somebody powerful. Buy their support in King's Landing."
"Who? I have Dothraki, who I bought with marriage. I bought the Unsullied by giving them freedom. The Greyjoys, the Lannisters, the Northerners have chosen to follow me because they want me. I did not need to marry them."
She was angry. Jon could see it in her face, hear it in her voice. "Westeros needs a man it knows beside you. Westeros does not know you. It needs a man it trusts."
Dany looked away from him. "Why shouldn't that be you? You are Ned Stark's son."
"His bastard."
"Ser Jorah suggested I marry a Baratheon bastard, to keep that bloodline in the royal family."
"It is not a terrible idea."
"If I can marry a Baratheon bastard, I can marry a Stark one!" she cried.
Jon shook his head and reached out to take her arm, to pull her close to him. "Marrying me is rash, Dany. Loving me is stupid. I loved a woman once, wrongly, and it cost her her life. I won't do the same to you."
"So you won't love me?" Jon glanced away. He did not want to lie to her. He heard a sniff of laughter come from her nose. She cupped his cheek and made him meet her eyes. "I will prove you wrong, Jon. You are the best option for me, because I will love you and I will respect you and Westeros will do the same. You'll see."
It was a promise that Jon didn't believe in, as much as he wanted to. All the same, he didn't want to take away her hope, his hope. So, he chuckled lightly and agreed. She smiled at him.
XXX
The journey to the Vale was not an enjoyable one. Sansa had not enjoyed it when they had come from the South and she enjoyed it less coming from the North. It was full of treacherous paths and mountain clans. It took longer than any of them had expected and, by the time they had crossed into the Reach, Sansa's whole body was aching from riding.
Tyrion rode beside her some days but most days he did not. As much as she adored her husband's company, Sansa preferred when he rode in the carriage. It was not good for his legs to ride for so long and it always made his cramps worse at night. However, that morning, he had insisted, as this was the day that they would reach the Vale and he would prefer to ride in. Sansa had acquiesced.
"How are you feeling?" Tyrion asked when they stopped for a rest, for a small meal and a drink. Sansa leaned her head against her horse's mane.
"Tired," she said honestly.
Tyrion clucked and she turned to look at him. "That's not what I meant, Sansa."
"We're not there yet, Tyrion," Sansa said with a sigh. "Don't start fussing over me. I thought you believed that I was stronger than that."
"I'm allowed to fuss over you as much as I'd like. You are my wife and I know that you are strong and wonderful and powerful, but you are also allowed to be weak, sometimes, especially in the uprun of seeing a man who sold you and particularly in front of your husband."
All of this was said very quietly and with an easy tone that Sansa knew was not reproachful but informative. She gave her husband a smile and then, feeling loved and loving, bobbed down further to kiss him smackingly on the cheek.
"I have to say that my siblings are fucking surprising people."
Sansa fell backwards, gasping, "By the Seven!"
She looked up, feeling Tyrion's hand clasping her forearm. There were many people around them, yet nobody seemed to have noticed the approach of this young girl, wearing leather and with her hair in a bun. Sansa gaped.
"Lady Arya, it is a pleasure to see you," Tyrion said jovially. Sansa closed her mouth and then opened it again. Her sister was rosy-cheeked and hard-eyed. The poor quality of her clothes made something churn in Sansa's stomach and the sword at her waist made her heart lurch.
"Jon," Sansa gasped, jumping to her feet and looking around her desperately. "Where is he? He has to- Jon."
Tyrion tapped her arm and drew her gaze down to him. He raised his brows at her. "I will go and find Jon. Perhaps you should actually greet your sister."
"I- Yes- Thank you- Tyrion, don't go-" but he had already wandered off, leaving Sansa with grass stains on her dress, standing before the sister who had disappeared so long ago.
"I did see Jon yesterday actually," Arya commented as though Sansa was not panicking. "I watched his tent with interest. I was going to jump out at him while he was asleep but, then, I saw your dragon queen go in there and I didn't like to interrupt." Sansa's shoulders fell and her lips parted, suddenly realising - as though she had been in a daze - that her sister was standing in front of her, was talking to her about Jon and Daenerys, was alive. Arya was alive.
"Arya," Sansa finally cried. Tears were in her eyes as she took her sister into her arms and hugged her tightly.
"Not missed this," Arya commented blithely from her position against Sansa's breasts. Sansa didn't care and only held her tighter, feeling her hands come around to Sansa's back too.
"I missed you," Sansa said passionately. She heard Arya chuckle against her.
"I missed you too, Lady Lannister."
Sansa pushed her sister roughly away from her. "Do not start calling me that. Seven, you sound like Jaime."
"Jaime?" Arya repeated. "Jaime Lannister? Jaime Lannister is here? How did I miss that?"
Sansa shook her head, laughing. "No, Arya. He's gone to the South, to raise the Lannister men for Daenerys."
"But he's been here? And you know him well enough to call him Jaime?" Arya's nose wrinkled.
"He was at Winterfell, with Brienne. He came to save her life."
"Who's Brienne?" Arya asked blankly.
"You will love Brienne," Sansa promised. "She is a knight."
"A lady knight?" Sansa nodded excitedly.
"Well, not technically, but she and Jaime spar all the time."
"Jaime, Jaime, Jaime. Why are you married to a Lannister?"
"Good question," a voice came from behind them.
Arya made a squeak and then she ran into Jon's arms. Sansa saw Daenerys watching with Tyrion from a short distance away. Sansa wondered idly whether Jon and Daenerys were genuinely fucking. It did seem rather likely.
Jon swung Arya around, cradling her head against his neck when he set her back down on the ground. She looked up at him, like he had hung the moon and the stars, as she always had, and Sansa felt jealousy stir in her chest. Tyrion and Daenerys approached now and Sansa could see Tyrion watching her carefully.
"How did you find us?" Jon asked when he pulled away, cupping her face with his hands and then stepping back. He reached out his hand for Sansa's and she took it, squeezing it and smiling. "Arya. I can't believe you found us."
"It really wasn't that tricky. I followed the rumours about Lady Lannister." Sansa scowled but Jon snickered. Arya smiled. "I've learned a lot. I know how to find people."
"I think we've all learned a lot," Sansa commented. "Will you come with us to the Vale?"
Arya nodded. "I'm home now. You're my family and you're my home."
Sansa's eyes pricked with tears and she nodded, bringing Arya close to her again, ignoring Arya's grumble of discontent. When she felt Jon's arms encircle them both, it was all Sansa could ever have hoped for.