Chapter 7

In the Godswood, Sansa replayed in her mind that scene in the snow with the Dragon Queen. It was completely ridiculous, her straddling Daenerys, holding her hands down, and rubbing against her ever so slightly. And then when Daenerys sat up, she thought she would kiss her. Absurd, she thought incredulously, ignoring that her heart suddenly began racing. And now I'm going to have dinner alone with her? But the ride had been fun and Daenerys continued to surprise her, this time with her care for her dragons, her humor, and her daring. Guilt began to creep itself into the pit of her stomach.

She shook it away. Me want her? Ridiculous.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footfalls in the snow. Turning, she saw Tyrion approach. Sansa looked away quickly, trying to compose herself. He's supposed to stay away. Protect him, protect him by keeping him away.

"Pardon the intrusion, my lady. I know you've asked the queen for me to leave you alone but I feel as if the air needs to be cleared between us."

Sansa said nothing, calming her breath, trying not to think of the strange combination of Tyrion and Daenerys beneath her legs. The image was even more preposterous than what had happened earlier and she had to suppress a laugh. Perhaps sensing that she was not going to send him away, Tyrion moved closer until he was standing next to her.

"Lady Sansa, if you could only explain why you made this request…"

"Lord Tyrion, I thought it prudent that we spend some time apart."

"I thought we were to remain friends…"

"And we are. Time apart doesn't mean we're not. It just gives us space to put what happened into perspective."

"And what perspective is that for you?" he asked, looking up at her face.

"I don't want to hurt you," she said, repeating something she had said to him the last time they were together in the Godswood. "What we shared was very meaningful to me. But… for so long it was about surviving. And now I am just beginning to see that I have a future to think about. I want time to explore what that means. I owe that to myself. Can you understand that?"

It was as close to the truth as she could share. Of the reasons why she couldn't commit to the Hand of the Dragon Queen, like his loyalties and her own plot against his queen, new reasons had recently developed. Secret reasons. Shameful reasons. Like the fact she had just straddled his queen and the sensation of that pressure against her still lingered, however much she tried to shake it. She couldn't share this with Tyrion; she could barely acknowledge it herself.

"So it has nothing to do with all the time you've been spending with the queen? One might say it has been quite the reversal for you," Tyrion said accusingly.

"If you're going to willfully ignore what I've said then perhaps we shouldn't speak at all," answered Sansa, turning to walk away. Tyrion grabbed her arm.

"I keep thinking about what you're planning. Do you really think she'll just give you the North if you're her friend and you ask nicely? Of course not, the Sansa I know wouldn't be so gullible. So then what is it? Do you think the queen will be unable to punish a friend who acts against her? Hmmm, this could be closer. You've already admitted to me your loyalty to the North above all. So then your intention is to never swear loyalty to her. The queen likely knows this as well, so why is she going along with this strange friendship? Why does she tolerate you lying to her face?"

"Unhand me," Sansa said coolly.

Tyrion ignored her and continued, "But I've watched the two of you together. There is something real happening. You're truly getting to know each other. And then I think to myself, what if your plot is actually more sinister?"

He stepped closer to her and in a low voice added, "If this is the case, you don't want to go down that road, Sansa. The world doesn't need more Cersei's and Littlefinger's."

Sansa yanked her arm away. "I don't know what you're talking about, Lord Tyrion. I am getting to know your queen to alleviate my own reservations about her. Isn't that what you and Jon have wanted me to do all along? Now that I'm doing so, all you can do is question my motives. Perhaps we are not the friends I thought we were."

Walking away without looking back, anger, hurt, and a small amount of fear flooded her. Sansa hadn't wanted them to argue, she hadn't wanted Tyrion to speak to her at all because she knew he had more insight into her than anyone else. He didn't have details but he was close. And if Tyrion figured that out, did that mean Daenerys knew, too? Would he have shared this with her?

Once out of the Godswood she was surprised to run into Daenerys who smiled at her but then seemed to notice her distress.

"Is something wrong, Lady Sansa?"

Before Sansa could answer, Tyrion appeared behind her. Sansa looked between the two of them, Daenerys looking at Tyrion with annoyance, and Tyrion looking at Daenerys with chagrin.

"Excuse me, your Grace, Lord Tyrion," Sansa said, nodded to each, and walked away, leaving them to talk about whatever they were going to talk about. Tyrion would surely be scolded for not following his queen's orders. Good.

For now, she needed to head back to her rooms for a bath. The sweat from the ride had dried on her skin but her clothes and hair were a mess. Sansa tried to forget what it felt like to be on top of Daenerys but she failed miserably.

*::::*

Daenerys walked into her rooms and asked that a bath be drawn for her. Missandei started the fire in the hearth while Daenerys sat and waited for the servants. She pondered the exchange with Tyrion, fuming at his disobedience.

"I told you that you were to stay away from her until you had my permission."

"I was just concerned for you, your Grace. I worry that she may be trying to deceive you in some way."

"Do you think that I haven't thought of that? I am not an idiot, Lord Tyrion. And don't pretend your concern is for me, I know that your concern is for Lady Sansa and what I may do to her if she does betray me."

"What will you do?"

"I will let you know if that situation occurs. For now, I will not have you disobey me again. If she approaches you, that's her decision. Until that time, don't take it personally and obey her request."

"Yes, your Grace."

"How did it go?" Missandei asked gently, interrupting Daenerys's thoughts.

"Well, I think."

"Was she afraid of them?"

"Yes but not to the point of quivering. She held a healthy respect for their power and observed me closely. I expect she was wondering why I wanted her there in the first place."

"And why did you want her there?" probed Missandei.

"Engaging with her lately has been difficult. I thought it would be a nice change. I don't know. Maybe I wanted her to understand them a bit more. Or understand me a bit more." Daenerys sat and brooded, thinking over the other things that happened after the race.

"You seem quiet, your Grace. Did something else happen?"

She glanced at Missandei and debated whether she should share everything. What happened in the snow was private, it belonged to her and Sansa, and for the moment she liked it that way. One minute they were laughing and the next she was being straddled by a winter goddess with icy blue eyes that swam in desire. But Sansa didn't seem to recognize her own self and ended the moment. Daenerys brought a hand up to her neck, remembering how cold the snow was, and how tightly Sansa's legs had gripped her.

"We weren't there with my dragons for very long before they flew off. She and I raced each other back through the Wolfswood and she won. I'm now to receive a basic lesson in needlework as her reward," Daenerys said with a smile.

"Lady Sansa won? Did you let her?"

"No," said Daenerys with a laugh. "To be honest, that didn't even occur to me. I wanted to win, to show off, I suppose. But she was a vision on horseback."

Daenerys failed to hide the admiration in her voice and Missandei directed a quizzical look her way but thankfully the servants interrupted by bringing the bath and scalding hot water. Missandei helped undress Daenerys and when she sat in the tub she told her friend she wanted to be alone.

Sansa was indeed a vision, she thought again, lying back in the tub and closing her eyes. She had molded herself to her horse, her fiery red hair flying behind her. Daenerys had never seen her look so alive. If she had been more decisive when Sansa was on her, if she had just wrapped her arms around her when she had the chance, Daenerys would also know what those soft lips tasted like.

I'm attracted to her, acknowledged Daenerys with a sigh. And after this morning, I know she has similar feelings. She thought of the encounter where Sansa bared her back and realized that Sansa's trembling had indeed been desire and the heat she'd felt had not been one-sided after all. It has been building between us all along. But the alliance with the North is already tenuous. And she still doesn't trust me, not really. I cannot lose sight of what she really wants. After a few moments she began to smile and sink further into the bath. A little torment tonight might be fun, though.

*::::* (mixed POV)

Sansa couldn't help but feel that the stakes were high tonight as she was choosing between dresses for tonight's dinner. This wasn't meant to be formal; it was a different sort of performance that she had to give. Softness rather than severity. She eschewed the grey with leather and chain she'd been favoring lately for something simple; a dark green but with a neckline that went just below the collar bone, plain embroidery along the hem. It would probably pale next to whatever Daenerys chose but it wasn't a competition. She wanted to look the part of a friend, not an enemy. Instead of an elaborate array of braids, she instructed her handmaiden to make two braids along the crown of her head, joined in the back, with the rest loose. Examining herself in the mirror, she saw a younger and more innocent woman looking back at her. Perfect.

Daenerys was in her solar, the food already spread out on the table, waiting for Sansa to arrive. She'd made sure the fire in the hearth had been kept blazing for hours so that the room was especially warm. And she sent Missandei to the Great Hall to observe the goings-on in her absence. The anticipation, the waiting, was driving her crazy. Maybe being alone at dinner was a mistake. She made the invitation on a whim, her body still buzzing from what had happened in the snow. Daenerys thought about sending for Missandei but before she could make up her mind, Grey Worm opened her door, allowing Sansa entry. She was breathtaking, the majority of her hair loose, the dress implying innocence and grace instead of hardship and steel. Summoning all of her control, Daenerys presented an outwardly calm smile.

"Thank you for coming, Lady Sansa. The food hasn't been here very long but it'll cool quickly if we don't start. Shall we dine first and talk by the fire afterwards?"

"Yes, that would be lovely, your Grace," answered Sansa politely. She walked to the table and sat down, Daenerys sitting down as well. When she walked in the first thing Sansa had noticed was that Daenerys had also chosen a different style of dress, something she hadn't worn before at Winterfell. In the firelight, the pale blue of the fabric shimmered, sleeveless, the neckline low and revealing more skin than Sansa had been prepared to see. It was definitely less imposing than her dragon riding outfits, accentuating her softer and more inviting physical attributes. It seemed they each had the same idea of appealing to the other with their looks, which made this dinner seem less like a meeting of friends and more like an encounter between courting lovers. Is this what courting feels like? wondered Sansa.

Daenerys noticed Sansa had gotten lost in thought, staring at her dress in the vicinity of her chest, and she softly cleared her throat, bringing Sansa's attention back to her face. They exchanged awkward smiles at each other before deciding to fill their hands with busy work, preparing their plates.

"I admit to some apprehension, Lady Sansa. About earlier…"

"It was all in fun, your Grace," interrupted Sansa. "I felt myself a young girl again, playing in the snow. I apologize if the play I chose was not to your liking."

Sansa didn't know if Daenerys would allow this excuse but the last thing she wanted to do was discuss her motivations in more detail. She focused on her plate, her expression poised and emotionless, as if challenging Daenerys to dispute her account.

"On the contrary, I enjoyed it very much," replied Daenerys, a slight smirk on her lips. She quite liked how uncomfortable Sansa looked, sitting across from her, avoiding eye contact. She decided not to come close to this topic again for the rest of the dinner. Later, she thought. After more wine.

The dinner went smoothly, Daenerys focusing the conversation on Sansa, though occasionally interjecting with some stories of her own. They discussed the rebuilding efforts, how long the winter was really supposed to last, lighthearted childhood memories, Sansa's friendship with Margaery Tyrell, and so on. Whether Sansa realized it or not, she drank two full goblets of wine, and Daenerys saw that it was having its effect on her. Sansa had started the meal on her guard but Daenerys was confident by the end of it that her laughter was relaxed and genuine.

Before they knew it, they'd finished their meals and moved their conversation to the chairs in front of the hearth. Sansa was glad she'd chosen a lighter dress since the warmth from the wine and from the fire was making her a little lightheaded. Her chair being placed so closely besides that of Daenerys didn't help either.

"So, Lady Sansa, tell me about Cersei. Lord Tyrion speaks of her as a brother speaks of a hated sister. I need your opinion since I know you spent a significant length of time with her in King's Landing."

Sansa thought carefully before speaking. It wouldn't hurt to be honest on these points.

"Lord Tyrion will always underestimate her, your Grace. No matter what she's done to him and anyone else, she is his family."

"He has said she loved her children? Is that true?"

"Yes, I think they were the only people she really loved. Not even Jaime comes close. But her thirst for power, what she's willing to do to keep it… Cersei Lannister may not be evil incarnate but she's close. Cunning, manipulative, she knows how to exploit weaknesses. Tyrion made a mistake believing her promise to help us."

"He's told me she's with child which is why he believed that she would choose to fight for the living."

Sansa thought on this new piece of information.

"It's possible she deluded herself into thinking they would be able to defeat the Night King after her enemies were wiped out. She does have an overinflated sense of her own power. She saw your dragon, she saw the wight, she knew how you had bested her army on the road from Highgarden, and she still thought she could win."

Daenerys stared quietly into the fire before getting up to fetch the flagon of wine from the table.

Sitting down again and setting the flagon on the table to the right of her chair, she turned to Sansa. "As you know, Lord Tyrion advises a long siege. Starve the city and the people will turn on her. Do you think that's a good strategy?"

"He wants a peaceful transition of power where no one dies. It's an impossible dream. I saw the same rioting he did. It is not peaceful and the weak and innocent get brutalized by the mobs which aren't able to reach the true targets of their ire. And now that Cersei knows the power of the throne she will never give it up willingly. If the people turn on her she will just kill them. She'll take everyone with her, even her child. No, you have dragons. You must force the city to surrender. The people will fear you at first but you can win them over afterwards."

"I confess my thoughts align with yours. But I am wary of innocent casualties. Even strategic targets like walls and soldiers won't prevent that. However, I will leave further discussions of this to my war council. Now, about earlier…"

Sansa's eyes widened. She saw now that Daenerys had waited until the wine and the room's warmth had done their work. She took a deep breath and tried to maintain her composure.

"You are quite the horsewoman, Lady Sansa. I had no idea how skilled you would be. You were a wondrous sight, fierce and confident."

The compliments surprised and pleased Sansa. She felt similarly about Daenerys's riding skills, though she did not wish to lavish the same amount of praise.

"If the terrain had been different, and in milder weather, you would have beaten me for sure. How did you learn to ride so well?" asked Sansa.

Daenerys laughed and said, "I was married to a Dothraki khal. The Dothraki take their horses very seriously and I learned from the best."

"What else did you learn?" asked Sansa. She immediately wished she'd held that question back. Bloody wine.

"Hmmm… I'm not sure your northern sensibilities could take it," hinted Daenerys, taking the flagon and refilling Sansa's goblet.

Sansa suppressed a blush and brought the goblet to her lips to hide behind. She should change the subject but curiosity got the better of her.

"Does this have anything to do with learning how to tame your khal?"

It was a bold question and Sansa was rewarded with wide violet eyes, impressed that she did not shy away. The small triumph she felt grew even larger when Daenerys could only offer a nod in answer before taking a large sip of her wine, seemingly embarrassed.

"How did you do it?" asked Sansa. Seeing Daenerys look so uncertain in her chair made Sansa feel brave.

"Northern sensibilities, Lady Sansa. Are you sure you want to know?"

Sansa ignored the warning that Daenerys offered and the one in her mind. She nodded with a grin.

"Well, I had handmaidens who were responsible for teaching me the Dothraki way, the language, my role as Khaleesi. One of them had been a bedslave in one of the pleasure houses of Lys."

Daenerys smiled meaningfully and Sansa slowly began to realize that perhaps the one that had been cornered in this conversation was herself.

"Her name was Doreah. She taught me many things. Like how to please my husband, and in turn please myself. It was very eye-opening, getting instruction like that from a woman. She was beautiful."

There was a look in Daenerys's eyes that made Sansa wonder what exactly happened between them. She felt flushed and unsure, looking again at Daenerys's exposed skin and neck, and then turning away with a blush when she saw Daenerys give a knowing look.

"It is not very accepted here, relations between women," Sansa muttered, and then quickly glanced at Daenerys, alarmed she'd spoken those thoughts aloud, hoping it didn't come across as an admonishment, or worse, a lament implying her own desire. Her mind again flashed to their encounter in the snow.

Daenerys almost felt sorry for how she manipulated Sansa in this conversation. Her earlier reference to just playing in the snow meant that Sansa didn't want to discuss it openly but Daenerys still wanted to gauge her thoughts. Using her past, which suggested an interest in a future encounter, got Sansa to respond in ways that she wouldn't have if she'd used direct questioning. Curious, confused, and a hint of reluctant arousal would be how she would describe Sansa at this moment, and this state of mind created a tantalizing opening.

"I told you. Northern sensibilities," said Daenerys softly. She decided to be merciful, the lurking fear in the back of her mind that Sansa was feigning all of this also contributing to her hesitance. Turning her thoughts to Tyrion, she felt it was time to ask about Sansa's true feelings towards her Hand.

"Tell me, Lady Sansa, what really happened with Lord Tyrion? Why did you reject him?"

The change in subject was both a relief and surprise to Sansa. She had been expertly set-up, Daenerys revealing enough about her past to show Sansa that more could be on offer between them, making it the perfect jumping off point for a conversation about today. They had been circling around something, Daenerys leading them close to it, but at the last moment she backed away. Sansa thought she should be thankful that propriety had been maintained but she was flustered just the same and needed to regain control.

"It is pointless to discuss this, your Grace," Sansa warned, sitting straighter in her chair.

"How so? You said you would discuss it at a later date. That time has come," laughed Daenerys, noticing Sansa's unease, hoping humor would reach her.

"It is pointless because he is your Hand and I am of the North."

"Jon bent the knee. The North is mine, Lady Sansa."

Sansa smiled without warmth. Conceding the point without having to concede her loyalty. And if it wasn't his to give? She was irritated but had to get back to friendly conversation and needed to answer Daenerys's question about why she rejected him. Instead of a guarded answer, she decided to reveal some of what made Tyrion important to her.

"Loyalties aside, the truth is part of me loves him. I am attracted to him. I trust him, he is safe and he wouldn't harm me. But sleeping with him felt more like the end of something rather than the beginning. The end of the story of a naïve girl who escaped a lion's den and only afterwards could see that there had been one man trying to help her. Every bad thing that happened to the girl after her escape only served to elevate that man in her mind. How kind he had been, how he refused to force himself on her. But I am not that young girl anymore and while I am grateful, I will no longer put Tyrion on a pedestal for being the only one who acted decently on my behalf. If love grows between us, then I will have it be because of the people we are today and not because I'm afraid of being hurt by anyone else. But as long as he serves you, I won't allow myself to consider him."

"Am I really all that bad, Lady Sansa?" Daenerys asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Daenerys knew she exposed herself to a hurtful reply. But Sansa's description of her view of Tyrion had disarmed her. Tyrion meant more to her than Daenerys had realized. And she could see that Sansa was coming into her own powers as a woman, exploring possibilities. Possibilities that might include her except Sansa may as well have just said 'I won't allow myself to consider you'. The rejection Daenerys felt bothered her.

"Weeks ago I would've said yes," Sansa replied. Daenerys wouldn't have believed a 'no' so she had to lure Daenerys into trust by implying a change of heart. She took another sip of her wine, feeling it swirl over her tongue. Looking at how expectant Daenerys looked, her eyes shining in the firelight, her fingers gripping the armrests of her chair lightly, it wasn't a queen that was looking at her but a beautiful young woman who was lonely. This was better, now Sansa felt like she had the upper hand.

"And now?" asked Daenerys in a thin voice.

Sansa saw how Daenerys's demeanor changed again, how she had stiffened, preparing herself for harsher words. And she could cut her down right now if she wanted. Break her the way Cersei had so often tried to do with her in King's Landing. Sansa took a breath and softened. Some teasing would lighten the mood.

"And now… maybe only mostly bad."

"An improvement that I will hold up for all to see," smiled Daenerys. "Hopefully one day soon that will change to only a little bad."

Daenerys was thankful to have the tension between them ease. She had felt the coldness creep into Sansa when they came close to questions of her loyalty.

"A little bad is still bad, your Grace," reminded Sansa, a hint of a smile on her lips.

"And yet it is a step closer to being in your favor and that means more to me than you know."

"So now you want my favor? Should I be looking for the perfect winter rose so that you can press it in between the pages of a favorite book of love songs?" Sansa inwardly shook her head. This went beyond teasing. And the exchange earlier about her handmaiden warned her that Daenerys knew how to play this type of game better than she did.

Daenerys smirked and Sansa smiled in return, refusing to show weakness, but inside Sansa was afraid, afraid of the exhilaration she felt at how Daenerys would respond in this next round of words.


A/N: still very busy for the next couple of weeks but I managed to finish this one. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it. Side note: why didn't Sansa and Dany have more scenes together in the show? What a wasted opportunity.