Chapter 3
Given how much of Daenerys's time was spent in her rooms here at Winterfell, Sansa had expected to be kept waiting by the Dragon Queen but not this long. She herself had broken fast earlier in the morning and had already toured the keep. She was now waiting in the yard with Brienne and Podrick. Despite the impatience she felt, there was also the worry in the back of her mind that Daenerys was working her. It seemed too easy to have asked for more time for the northmen and for these shared rounds, and to be given them without too much delay. It was like she had stepped into a trap of the Targaryen's making instead of the other way around.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Lady Sansa," Daenerys called out, walking to her briskly followed by Missandei and four of her Unsullied, Grey Worm and three other men whose names Sansa did not know.
"It is no problem at all, your Grace. It was a nice rest after touring the keep," Sansa answered, the lilt of her voice friendly but her eyes holding their coldness. The nod which Daenerys gave in reply acknowledged the jab.
"Shall we to Winter town then?" asked Daenerys. Sansa nodded and the nine of them made their way to the gate. The plan was to go out through the gate and walk to the town, show Daenerys around the marketplace, then head towards the edges of the town where the smallfolk lived or sheltered during the winter. Many of the northern soldiers were lodged in these small houses, too, rather than in the tents that Daenerys's armies had set up around the western and southern edges of the castle. There were less of these tents now than before the battle, however. Daenerys had lost many soldiers and Dothraki.
They were silent at first, Sansa trying out various topics of conversation in her mind and not being satisfied with any. She wanted to be calm but being kept waiting had indeed annoyed her. Walking past the tents of Daenerys's soldiers was also unnerving. Not even the beauty of the cold winter sky could relax her.
"Permit me to set your mind at ease, Lady Sansa. I was not late on purpose. A raven had arrived and I had to attend to the message before meeting with you."
Sansa turned her head to Daenerys expectantly. Her curiosity was piqued but she didn't want to seem like she was prying too much into the Dragon Queen's affairs.
"Scouts' reports show that Cersei is building more of those machines that shoot large bolts at my dragons. Scorpions, they're called. They will be mounted on the city's walls, I expect."
"Have you readjusted your timeframe then? Are you to take away those three weeks from our armies?"
"No, even if we left now, those machines would be built and ready. She has the Golden Company, the Lannister army and Greyjoy's fleet. But it won't be enough. I think we can let her wait in her fear for a bit longer," Daenerys answered grimly.
Sansa could see that Daenerys was still concerned in spite of her words. Today's visit to Winter town needed to be a positive one for the Dragon Queen. She'd already planned one particular family to directly approach. They didn't know Daenerys was coming, though, to allow for uncoached responses. She trusted her people to be fair, though wary. If Daenerys was honest and forthcoming with them, they would appreciate it and let her know they did.
"My Lady," Brienne came up alongside them as they entered the town and were now in the marketplace area. "Perhaps Grey Worm and I should lead the way with the rest behind. We do not know how the people will respond to seeing her Grace amongst them."
Sansa was about to agree but Daenerys spoke first.
"That is all right, Ser Brienne. I will not be afraid of Lady Sansa's people. A respectable distance behind us should be enough?" Daenerys directed this last part to Sansa, to which she nodded.
One wouldn't have expected a bustling marketplace in the middle of winter, and after losing so much in the fight against the dead, but various sellers and a few stalls were doing what they could. It made Sansa proud; her people endured. At various spots Sansa would describe certain scenes of her youth, coming here with her parents as they instilled in her a duty to those less fortunate, lessons she didn't appreciate at the time but was now grateful for. Or fights with Arya and her brothers. Daenerys listened intently and asked detailed questions which opened Sansa further. It seemed the more time they spent in Winter town, the more time they spent talking and smiling with each other. Sansa could see that instead of distrust on the faces of the shopowners and sellers in their stalls, there was now curiosity; curiosity about the interactions of their Lady of Winterfell and this foreign queen.
As they walked through the narrow, muddy streets, to the small houses on the outskirts, Sansa closely watched Daenerys's face, looking for signs of disgust or distress. But Daenerys kept herself pleasant. Missandei stayed silent most of the time, hanging back with Grey Worm. Some of the people they passed rushed inside their houses. Others stared openly. Sansa could see the surprise on some as they saw her walking beside the Targaryen. Sansa would greet as many of them as she could, the way she always did. Those brave enough to speak in turn earned an introduction to Daenerys, who spoke warmly but didn't push them with questions or promises. The children were the bravest, asking Daenerys questions about where she came from and they were delighted with her forthright descriptions and even the occasional story. Missandei would also find herself cornered by children eager to hear about faraway lands. To the adults, Daenerys didn't offer bright smiles and Sansa was impressed. Bright smiles from a stranger would've been instantly distrusted, her people closing off to the Dragon Queen completely. The whole visit was going better than Sansa expected and she was convinced that Daenerys wouldn't hesitate to come again. Then Sansa spotted the family she had wanted Daenerys to meet. The dark-haired boy playing outside in the dirty snow was unmistakable. His face lit up when he saw her.
"Lady Sansa!" he cried, getting up and running to her. Sansa couldn't resist the embrace she knew he wanted to give her so she bent down with her arms open waiting for him. He was four and one of the most adorable children she'd ever met. When he let go, he turned to face Daenerys with a shy smile.
"Falon, I'd like you to meet Queen Daenerys," Sansa said to the boy. "Your Grace, this is my friend, Falon." She looked up and spotted the boy's mother Ada smiling and waved to her in greeting.
"Hello, Falon, it is very nice to meet you," said Daenerys, crouching down so that she could be on his level.
"Are you the one who rides the dragons?" asked Falon.
"Yes, I am," Daenerys laughed. "Do you like dragons?"
"I do. I want to ride on one when I grow up. Will you let me?"
"When you grow up, it would be my honor, little Falon."
He stuck out his hand and Daenerys graciously took it. She walked over with him to his mother and Sansa watched the three of them talk for a little while. Ada was wary at first but she soon relaxed and Sansa smiled when it seemed as if the three of them would be talking the rest of the day.
After a while, Sansa reluctantly walked over to interrupt. "Your Grace, I think it's time we head back to the castle."
"Of course, Lady Sansa. It was very nice meeting the both of you. I hope to see you again soon."
Falon pulled at Daenerys's skirts so she bent down again and he whispered in her ear. Sansa could just barely make it out.
"I like you. You're not scary at all." At that, the boy bounded away into his house.
Daenerys and Sansa shared a laugh. She could see some of the tears that had formed in Daenerys's eyes but a few blinks later and they were gone. Sansa saw her exchange a look with Missandei but she wasn't sure what it meant. They began walking back through the town towards Winterfell.
"Falon and his mother Ada are tenant farmers. His father and two older brothers were killed by the Boltons, their home burnt. The Boltons did that to several farming families they felt did not show enough respect to their rule. Falon and Ada somehow survived and after we retook Winterfell, I met them here. I don't know what I would've done if they had died in the crypts. Falon reminds me of who I'm fighting for. He's made me promise to rebuild their farm. And I will. But this winter is harsh and there hasn't been time to use men needed here to go out to rebuild farmhouses. And even if we could rebuild now, it's still safer for them to wait out the winter here."
"My men don't know how to build homes made of wood and stone that are strong enough to shelter against this winter. But if you do decide to rebuild while we're here, please, take who you need and give that boy his home. That goes for the other farming families you mentioned as well. And if not during the winter, then in the spring let me know what the North needs to help these families reestablish themselves."
Sansa nodded in thanks, knowing spring was a long time away and much could happen in the meantime. Much is going to happen, Sansa thought, but then brushed those darker thoughts away.
Neither of them said much on the walk back to Winterfell. Sansa thought again about how easily Daenerys had handled herself with her people and she was surprised at how easy it was to share some of her childhood memories. Sansa had actually enjoyed herself but it was clear now something had happened to dampen Daenerys's good humor.
After they walked through the gate, Sansa stopped and turned to Daenerys.
"Are you unwell, your Grace? Is there anything the matter?"
"I am well, Lady Sansa, thank you. I was just reminded of some things that I try not to think about. It is nothing. Thank you very much for allowing me to accompany you this morning. If you'll excuse me, I have some other things to attend to."
Daenerys walked away with her people, leaving Sansa confused about what had happened.
*::::*
After the midday meal, Sansa walked to the Godswood to think more about the morning with Daenerys. She'd not been in the Great Hall and Sansa was worried if she'd offended her in some way and ruined the small steps she'd been making to ingratiate herself to the Dragon Queen. She was without her gloves and cloak so she knew she couldn't stay long but the cold was bracing. It helped her think.
Approaching the weirwood tree, she saw a lone figure, looking small and white against the snow. This was the first time she'd seen Daenerys in the Godswood. Sansa saw Daenerys's head turn slightly at her approach but she didn't slow down. This was her home and she would stand before the heart tree if she wanted to.
"It is very beautiful here. And peaceful," said Daenerys, as Sansa stood alongside her.
"Yes, it is," Sansa answered. They stayed silent for several minutes.
"Lady Sansa, I wanted to apologize for my ill humor earlier. You've done nothing wrong. Painful memories overtook me. That boy… I might have had a son about that age. He died while I still carried him. Rhaego. I'm sure Lord Tyrion has told you some of that story."
Sansa nodded. She'd indeed heard the story of the deaths of Daenerys's Dothraki husband and unborn child brought about by a witch.
"And now my dragons are all the children I will ever have. That must seem odd to you, Jon has probably tried to explain it his own clumsy way. I did not grow them in my body but they are alive through fire by me and I love them. They are not my companions, they are my children. And yet… that boy… I will never know motherhood the way his mother does."
Sansa didn't know what to say. So she just stood there next to Daenerys thinking about what she would've done in her place. How devastating that loss must have been. Before she let sympathy overcome her resolve, Sansa reminded herself that even Cersei loved her children. That didn't make Cersei a good person.
"Jon is clumsy with these kinds of things, isn't he?" Sansa said, trying to lighten the mood.
Daenerys laughed and turned to Sansa. "Yes, he is."
"I didn't get a chance earlier but I wanted to thank you for accompanying me this morning. I was impressed with how well you handled the conditions there."
"Do you think I don't know what it's like to struggle for food and shelter?"
"That's not what I meant, your Grace…"
"Didn't Lord Tyrion tell you about how my brother and I had to live on the streets for a time as children, scavenging and begging? No home to call our own. No mother and father to wipe our tears and soothe away the nightmares. I know what it is to starve. I know what it is to see the entitled and the wealthy take advantage of the less fortunate. Do you know what it's like to have a childhood like that, Lady Stark?"
"No, I do not," Sansa answered coldly. She was being chided and Daenerys's rising anger made her feel defensive. "I also don't understand what it's like to fixate on something that would never have been yours to begin with. Your brother was so focused on the Iron Throne he abused and sold off his own sister for an army. And now you are similarly focused. How far are you willing to go, what or who are you willing to sacrifice for that bloody throne?"
Daenerys's eyes narrowed. Sansa knew she had touched a sensitive nerve and a part of her regretted provoking her. The plan was to make friends, not cross words as enemies. But her anger refused to let her back down so she just glared down at her.
"I think you know exactly how I feel, Lady Sansa. For all your dislike and distrust of me, you know exactly how it feels to want revenge for your family against their betrayers and enemies. How it feels to see your home taken away, the children of your family hunted and killed, to find yourself at the mercy of evil men who would use you, rape you, marry you off as goods in exchange for money or men. Would you have found it in your mercy to forgive Theon Greyjoy if he had really killed Bran and Rickon, or would you have hated him forever? When you were finally free from the Boltons, did you keep running or did you turn around, raise an army, and take back your home, the home that was rightfully yours? As justice for his crimes against you and your family, did you give your lord husband a quick death or did you watch him die a slow and painful one? Oh yes, Lady Sansa, I can perfectly imagine the things you would be capable of if you were in my place."
Stunned, Sansa could only retort, "You've burned prisoners alive!"
Sansa felt like a child for throwing the Tarlys in Daenerys's face like that but she was so mad she couldn't think straight. She was rewarded with a flinch on Daenerys's face but for only a split second.
"And you had your prisoner eaten alive by his own hounds!" Daenerys responded, approaching closer to Sansa. "I heard you stayed to watch. Did you enjoy watching? Was it justice you felt or did you get some other sort of satisfaction from it?"
Sansa didn't know where Daenerys was going with this but the fury she felt growing within her was getting harder to control.
"Just between us, did you feel aroused while you watched him suffer? Does your family know what a sadistic bitch you really are?"
Sansa heard the slap before she felt the sting in her hand. She hadn't put all her strength into it but she knew it hurt. Daenerys had gasped but she did not raise a hand to rub her injured cheek. Her eyes glared at her and Sansa thought she would receive a slap in return, or worse, but Daenerys just walked away.
Alone in the Godswood, Sansa was shocked by her own actions, her anger at Daenerys now directed at herself. The insult about Ramsay served no purpose other than to provoke her and instead of withstanding the onslaught, she lowered herself by letting it get to her. The rest of what Daenerys said however… it was exactly what made Sansa afraid of the Dragon Queen. Not because Daenerys was a Targaryen and she was a Stark but because Sansa understood her motivations so well; she understood that drive for justice and revenge. What would she do if she knew the Iron Throne belonged to her family and she had dragons at her disposal? What would she do to those in her way? She thought of her own plan with Daenerys and was unsettled by the thought that her actions for a free North might be considered worse. Sansa pushed those thoughts away and glanced down at her hand, still feeling the sting of skin striking skin. It had felt good. Too good.
She had to smooth things over with Daenerys. Their animosity was out in the open but it could also be the way to deepen the friendship. Forgiveness has a way of strengthening that bond. The same could happen here.
A/N: Taking some creative license here with the location and layout of the winter town; references from the books and show were used but my priority was making it work for my fic. More specifically, I wanted the town in close proximity to Winterfell, putting it within easy walking distance, but not right outside the gate. So let's say a half mile south of the south gate.
