A/N: just a warning that there are references to rape in this chapter
Chapter 4
Daenerys was only a little late for the dinner meal. She almost didn't go at all but after she ranted about the infuriating Lady Sansa, omitting the part about the slap she'd received, Missandei reminded her that she needed to be seen as often as possible. Hiding away would be seen as weakness. Jon had bent the knee and the North was hers. She had to act like the Queen she was.
When she walked into the Great Hall she didn't look at all at Sansa. She gave greetings to Tyrion and some of the men near her, and then went to the high table where Jon was standing. His eyes glowed with that same conflicted love and Daenerys turned away from him lest she lost her temper again.
"Are you all right?" he whispered, after she sat down.
"Yes. Please, let's just eat," she replied coldly.
The dinner went similarly to previous dinners. Men talking loudly, boastful and conceited. Women smiling in deference. The more she watched the more she was disgusted but not by the people. She was disgusted with herself at not finding it within her to connect with these people without the help of others. Tyrion wanted time with his brother and did nothing to help her. Jon was hopeless with these sorts of political interactions and did no better. She thought earlier of how Sansa had shown her around Winter town, giving the smallfolk a chance to know her a bit better. It had been the best morning she'd had in a long time. But then they had quarreled. Daenerys shook her head. It had been more than a quarrel.
Holding her goblet, she risked a glance toward Sansa. She looked more dour than usual, if that was possible. Taking a sip of her wine, she thought again of how Sansa had struck her. By all rights, Sansa should be in the dungeon for assaulting her queen. But Daenerys would get no satisfaction from that. Sansa hadn't intended to start an argument; Daenerys's own insecurity had gotten the better of her. She'd lost her temper and escalated, provoking Sansa when she should've shown patience. There were also other things to consider, like the loyalty of the North. Any small gains she'd made in proving herself to these people would be lost if she imprisoned their Lady. But the way Sansa had looked down at her, fury had bubbled up within Daenerys before she even had a chance to think. Something about that woman got to her like no other. A smile and she felt victorious, a slight and it sent her reeling.
She must have gotten lost in her thoughts for suddenly Sansa was beside her in Jon's chair and she hadn't noticed her approach. Daenerys looked around and saw Jon conversing with that wildling he liked so much. She placed her goblet back on the table and turned to Sansa.
"Excuse me, your Grace, but might I have a private word with you after the meal?"
A private word. It would be better to clear the air tonight before letting their anger fester any longer. And Daenerys felt obligated to give them this chance to start over. It had been a refreshing morning after all and there could be more like it if they made amends.
"Yes, of course," she replied stiffly. "Come to my solar in an hour."
"Thank you, your Grace," Sansa said quietly, and stood up, walking back to her own chair. Daenerys noticed Sansa's food had hardly been touched. It pleased her a bit to see Sansa was bothered as much by today as she was.
Daenerys rose from her chair and walked to Missandei.
"Please give my excuses. Lady Sansa will be coming to my solar in an hour and I'm leaving to gather my thoughts."
With one more glance at the hall, Daenerys left, with Grey Worm behind her.
*::::*
Sansa watched Daenerys speak to Missandei and then leave the Great Hall. She turned back to her food but was not hungry. She kept going over in her mind what had occurred earlier. It had happened so quickly and without warning. They were both to blame and she was going to do her best to mitigate the damage with Daenerys later tonight but something about their argument continued to bother her. It wasn't what Daenerys had said, it was how Daenerys had looked at her. Sansa thought she didn't really care what the Dragon Queen thought of her, and this whole endeavor to sow trust between them was just a charade, but knowing Daenerys was angry at her gnawed at her just the same. Why should I care that she's angry with me? I'm not really her friend.
"Heartsick?"
"What?" Sansa looked up and saw Arya beside her.
"I'm used to seeing you look cold and unhappy but I know it's just your shield. Except right now. Right now I think you actually are unhappy. Has something happened with the queen? I know you went to Winter town together."
"A small quarrel, nothing more."
"A quarrel with the queen is not nothing, Sansa. Should I be concerned? Do you need my help with anything?"
Her tone was nonchalant but Arya's expression was like steel, as usual, and Sansa could tell that Arya was worried. There were too many people around right now to speak openly with Arya about what she was doing with Daenerys. Sansa didn't even know how Arya would react. She decided to stay with her original intention to wait until the right moment to tell her.
"No. I will let you know when circumstances require your attention."
Arya nodded and walked away without another word. She'll understand, I'm sure of it, Sansa assured herself.
Now wasn't the time to question her choice. She needed to prepare for her meeting with Daenerys.
*::::*
Daenerys sat in front of the fire in her solar, taking occasional sips of her wine. The fire was comforting. The flickering flames moving in such random ways, but the burning of wood into ash was predictable all the same. The fire devours its food.
There was a short knock on the door before it opened, Grey Worm allowing Sansa to enter. Daenerys did not look but she knew Sansa stood by the door waiting for acknowledgment. When she did not receive any, Sansa came over to stand by the empty chair beside her own. Again, Daenerys would not look at her. It was a game and she was antagonizing her but Daenerys liked wondering how Sansa would respond. Would she stomp off like a child or would she have something biting to say? Or will Sansa surprise me with something else altogether?
At last Sansa sat down and joined her in staring at the fire. Daenerys was quite enjoying this and hoped Sansa wouldn't ruin it with effusive apologies. Daenerys would despise her for it. The thought of it made her realize how much respect she had for this proud Lady of Winterfell.
"Your Grace… I must apologize for losing my temper earlier. Words were said that I regret."
It was stated simply and Daenerys was glad that Sansa had bowed but she hadn't bowed so low as to demean herself.
"Not just words, Lady Sansa," Daenerys replied. Sansa turned quickly to her and her features showed surprise at Daenerys's smile. The tension left Sansa and she gave a curt nod in response. Daenerys knew they had navigated the opening of this conversation well so far, neither one of them losing face.
"I, too, apologize for earlier. The things that I said were vulgar and insulting. Anyone would have lost their temper at such words." Daenerys sincerely meant the apology and hoped Sansa would accept it.
"Joffrey said vulgar and insulting things to me all the time. I wish I could have hit him again and again but I controlled myself. I don't know why I let my hand fly today."
Daenerys was surprised by that admission and didn't know what to say. She could see that Sansa did not look defiant. She was looking inward, thinking of something.
"You were terrified for your life back then. Many things are out of our control. Women tend to be at the mercy of men's anger and lust. We take control where we can and in a way I suppose it means part of you trusted that I wouldn't retaliate against you the way he would have," Daenerys said kindly. Or maybe you don't fear death the way you once did.
Sansa said nothing and Daenerys began to think again of how similar their paths had been. She heard the warnings from Tyrion and Missandei in her head but she wanted to trust Sansa. Deciding to listen to her instincts, Daenerys confided something to Sansa.
"You were right before, Lady Sansa. My brother did sell me in marriage. And my strange Dothraki husband was powerful and frightening to the young innocent girl that I was. After we wed, I was scared… I didn't want to… he didn't do it out of anger or an intention to hurt me but I still cried as he bent me over and took me." Daenerys took a large drink of her wine, finishing it, and forced herself to continue. She preferred to remember the happier times with Drogo but that did not take away the pain of those earlier traumas.
"I did not speak his language and he did not speak mine and I had no say or control over anything. It was the Dothraki way and he was now my husband. My body was his. I was fortunate that we learned to love each other. I learned his language and my confidence grew."
Daenerys stood up and went to the table to refill her goblet. She offered wine to Sansa but she declined. She sat back down to stare again at the fire, waiting to see how Sansa would respond to such details of her life.
"I did not know that's how it was for you. I wasn't married to Joffrey but he still tortured me. He had me physically punished in court, in front of everyone. And Tyrion never touched me but Ramsay… Ramsay did."
Sansa stood up, seemingly coming to a decision about something. She turned to Daenerys and spoke again.
"I should've refused to marry him but I was afraid. Lord Baelish convinced me that I was to take control of Winterfell from within. How could I say no to the opportunity to live in my home again?"
Daenerys was alarmed when she saw Sansa slowly begin to work on the ties and buttons of her dress. What is she doing?
"He brutally raped me and made Theon stay in the room to watch. He ripped the back of my wedding dress and…" Sansa closed her eyes and held her fingers still. When she opened them again, she continued with the ties and clasps. "It only got worse on the nights thereafter. He beat me, cut me, made me bleed. When I finally knew that I'd rather be dead than stay, I escaped."
Daenerys stood up in shock when Sansa opened the back of her dress at the collar and pulled it and the shift underneath open just enough for Daenerys to see her shoulders. When Sansa pulled her hair to the side, Daenerys understood what Sansa wanted her to see. There was no noise but the crackling logs in the hearth and her footsteps as she walked over to stand behind Sansa.
The shadows and firelight played on her back but there was no mistaking the scars on Sansa's pale skin. Some still red and angry though all quite healed.
"May I?" Daenerys asked. She didn't know why but the heart pounding in her chest made her want to touch Sansa. Was it morbid curiosity or was she under some other spell?
At Sansa's nod, she touched with one finger then three just below the nape of Sansa's neck. Sansa was trembling as Daenerys slowly traced her fingers down to the top of her dress, which had been lowered to the middle of her back. She was momentarily tempted to pull it down even lower, to see how far down the scars went. The heat Daenerys felt was unmistakable. But it would be an intrusion, a twisting of a vulnerable moment into something Sansa hadn't intended. She had not been permitted further intimacies and would not take without asking. And she ignored the impulse to ask.
Daenerys released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and took away her hand. Sansa pulled the dress back into place and began working the ties and Daenerys instinctively began helping. When her fingers would touch those of Sansa's she felt guilty at how warm it made her feel and it confused her. She walked back to her chair, picked up the goblet she'd left on the floor, and looked away as Sansa sat down. If Daenerys had regretted her earlier words in the Godswood, she felt deeply ashamed of them now and recognized that she'd truly deserved that slap from Sansa. A rage built within her; a rage that made her want to burn all of this woman's enemies. Am I one of them?
"Your Grace, I don't… really know why I did that. I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable."
"No, it is fine... I knew and yet I didn't know. Dragon fire would've indeed been too quick a death for that man." Daenerys was staring into the fire when she spoke but when she turned to face her, Sansa looked into her eyes and gave a small nod. Nothing more needed to be said; no words of sympathy or apologies. The solidarity of their experiences was all the understanding that was required. She turned back to the fire, satisfied that they were back on friendly footing but the warmth that lingered in her fingers worried her. Were they building trust or something else?
*::::*
Sansa didn't stay much longer in Daenerys's solar. She was confused and embarrassed at how much she'd revealed. No one else alive had seen but her handmaidens, the maesters, and Tyrion, and him only recently. Bran probably did but he knew through his sight, not because she'd confided in him. There was no reason to show her family at all; it would've been too hard on Arya and Jon to see firsthand what Ramsay had done to her. But there was something about Daenerys that compelled her to share.
The intention had been to smooth things over, to reset the game pieces so to speak. Daenerys's story about the beginnings of her Dothraki marriage had been unexpected and she felt a deep connection to it. What came over her next, she'll never know. Their apologies had been offered and accepted and she could've left the room knowing they would be able to start over. Maybe she wanted to further shame Daenerys for her earlier words, maybe she had made a cold calculation as to how to gain the Dragon Queen's sympathies, or maybe she just needed someone to know and understand her.
Tyrion had been sympathetic when she shared her experiences with him but she'd been unprepared for his pain and guilt, as if he should've been able to protect her, and for some unknown reason this irritated her. She did not make her crossness known to him, however. It was pointless because he could never truly understand. Daenerys would and did. And when she touched her back, the intimacy of it was unexpectedly sensual and Sansa couldn't stop her trembling. She half expected Daenerys to pull down her dress and Sansa nearly invited her to do so, her hands gripping the front of her dress in anticipation. But then the moment ended and Sansa was saved from making a terrible mistake. It was not what she had intended to happen anyway, was it? She hadn't imagined hands on her back one day and thought of a way to entice Daenerys to do just that the next day? Certainly not.
Entering her bedchamber, Sansa undressed and walked to a mirror. She stared at the woman reflected back at her. There was beauty but also a cold harshness. Much of the last several years had been about keeping her emotions in check, and hiding her thoughts, that it became second nature to her. Control is what saved her in King's Landing, helped her navigate through Littlefinger's machinations, and gave her the strength to withstand Ramsay long enough to escape. Control is what she needed now, except around Daenerys her control was slipping.
This is harder than I thought it would be, Sansa thought to herself. Gaining trust meant giving trust and she was giving more than she should, opening up herself in ways that she didn't understand. But more than that was her surprise at how Daenerys opened up to her, as if Daenerys was determined not to hold back. Surely Daenerys had been warned by her advisors. Varys had to be whispering in her ear about how Sansa was using her. Tyrion and Missandei, too. If she was one of Daenerys's advisors, she'd be doing all in her power to keep Daenerys away from her. They knew her desire for an independent North but they hadn't the faintest clue about how far Sansa was willing to go which made Sansa a risk their queen couldn't afford. Does she truly think we can be friends? Again, she mentally crafted messages to the Vale and others that would convince them to join her cause. But she kept being distracted by the memory of gentle fingers against her back. She'd enjoyed Daenerys's hand more than she cared to admit.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, faves, and follows. It's always nice to see that readers are enjoying my imaginings. One reviewer asked about an advisor to Sansa – this chapter hints at it but I plan for Arya to eventually fill that role in her own way.
