A/N: just a warning about a slightly non-consensual touching scene. It is brief and without intent to harm but I wanted to be safe and give a warning to those who find such things uncomfortable.


Chapter 11

Sansa didn't really get a chance to talk with Daenerys again the rest of the day. In the Great Hall, Sansa went back to her regular seat and avoided socializing. She felt confused by the dream and confused by the good she knew existed in Daenerys. Fear of a kneeling North still gripped her but so did doubt. That exchange earlier with Samwell had been sincere and heartfelt. And Daenerys had shown true care for the people in Winter town, little Falon, and all she met in the castle. The guilt had become so overwhelming Sansa stayed in her rooms the following day, skipping all meals in the Great Hall, including dinner. After she retired to bed, she couldn't sleep, tossing and turning for over an hour, until she gave up, put on her robe, and sat in front of the fireplace.

Then she heard a light knock on her door. Sansa wondered who it could be at this late hour and for a moment she thought it might be Tyrion. Opening the door, she was surprised to see Daenerys, wearing a robe over her nightgown and holding a folded up dress. Grey Worm was with her as always but he stayed further back in the corridor.

"I didn't get a chance to see you today and I wanted to bring you the dress personally."

"Of course, come in," said Sansa without thinking. After Daenerys entered the room, Sansa wondered if she should've just taken the dress and said goodnight. Daenerys had not been in her bedchamber before and she watched her as she looked around and placed the dress on the seat of the chair by the window.

"Would you like some wine or I can have a servant bring us some tea?"

"No, thank you, Lady Sansa," said Daenerys with a nervous energy, holding her hands together. "You weren't at dinner tonight."

"I wasn't feeling well, your Grace," said Sansa, looking down. She could barely stomach the lies now but at least that one was partly true.

"Are you well now? Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm fine. But I'm having trouble sleeping."

"Then I recommend you have some wine." Daenerys walked over to the table where a flagon of wine had been set with one goblet. She poured but not too much and handed it to Sansa.

"Drink it all, so the effects act quickly."

"Why would I want that?" asked Sansa, feeling suspicious of Daenerys's intentions.

"So you would feel tired, of course," grinned Daenerys.

Sansa smiled, suddenly glad to have the company. In a strange way, having Daenerys near her made her forget her guilt. It was only when she was alone that it invaded her being, reminding her of the kind of person she had become.

An hour later the two of them were laughing on her bed at the story Daenerys just shared about what happened earlier at dinner. It seemed that Tormund was feeling brave and again tried to win Brienne for himself. Words were exchanged and Jaime gracefully handled the situation by punching Tormund hard in the nose. Instead of being angry, Tormund embraced Jaime like a brother and they proceeded to get roaring drunk.

"I don't understand why Tormund insists on pestering Brienne. He knows she's not interested," said Sansa.

"We want who we want," said Daenerys, looking at Sansa with a suddenly sober expression. Sansa smiled and covered her embarrassment with more laughter. She handed over the goblet which they had been sharing. Daenerys took a sip. Sansa knew Daenerys wasn't drinking all that much and she should've controlled her own consumption but she was having too much fun and it helped her forget her dark thoughts.

They talked into the night.

"What's your favorite dessert?" asked Daenerys.

"Lemon cakes," replied Sansa without hesitation. "Lemons don't grow here and it's a rare treat."

Daenerys got a wistful look. "Lemons always remind me of one of my most cherished childhood memories. For a time, I lived in a house with a red door and there was a lemon tree. I never felt happier or safer than during that time."

In her best imitation of a knight's command, Sansa said, "In honor of our shared lemon connection, I shall have the kitchens scour the pantries for lemons and if we have them, order the cooks to prepare some lemon cakes."

Sansa finished off the wine, placed the goblet on her nightstand, and tried to hold her serious expression but she wobbled slightly and Daenerys burst into laughter. Sansa soon joined in. The two of them fell onto the bed and laughed until they couldn't breathe. Then they lay catching their breaths, facing each other, Sansa on the right side of the bed, Daenerys on the left.

The wine had made Sansa more inebriated than usual and she realized it was because she'd skipped the day's meals. She felt bold enough to ask a few questions and was ready to blame the wine if Daenerys took offense.

"How many lovers have you had?" asked Sansa.

"I'm not sure I want to answer that, Lady Sansa. Your northern sensibilities might turn against me," teased Daenerys.

"Many?" Sansa persisted.

"More than two."

"Women?"

Daenerys gave a shy smirk and nodded.

"Your handmaiden, Doreah?" Sansa asked, heart beating faster.

Laughing, Daenerys lightly scolded, "Sansa, the wine has made you very inquisitive!"

"What happened to her?" she asked, undeterred.

Daenerys was silent for a while, seemingly unsure how to answer. Then she looked into Sansa's eyes and said, "I know I implied otherwise the other night, there were lessons as I said, but the truth is she and I didn't actually sleep together until after Drogo died. It wasn't love but I trusted her. I needed comfort and she was there for me. Then she betrayed me."

"Oh," replied Sansa, understanding everything that went with those last words. She didn't want to delve further into what happens to those who betray Daenerys Targaryen; what deserved to happen to betrayers and murderers.

After a long pause, Sansa whispered, "Is it very much different… being with a woman? I mean, aside from the obvious difference."

She was grateful her thoughts didn't immediately go to Ramsay. Instead Sansa thought of the gentleness of Tyrion that she'd needed. And then the not-so-gentle Tyrion that she'd begged for. Those thoughts made her cheeks burn and in the candlelight, Sansa could see Daenerys's cheeks had also reddened. She knew this wasn't teasing anymore and that she had led them to a topic that treaded too close to the line she couldn't cross.

"It's as different as you want it to be. It just depends on what you like… and what she likes," replied Daenerys softly, keeping her eyes focused on Sansa's eyes, almost as if she were trying not to look lower.

It was only two short sentences but by the end, Daenerys seemed properly breathless and Sansa's heart was pounding so loudly she was sure it was echoing around the room, her blush definitely revealing how affected she was by this conversation.

"Have you ever kissed a woman, Lady Sansa?" whispered Daenerys. Sansa shook her head.

"I've never even thought about being with a woman before until…" Sansa trailed off, immediately regretting her honesty because it revealed too much about what she felt for Daenerys. To Daenerys's credit, she didn't push for an ending to that sentence. Sansa closed her eyes. This shouldn't be happening. She just couldn't help it. It was wrong, she knew she shouldn't, but she liked being friends with her. She hadn't realized how much she missed this type of companionship. But the plan, Sansa…

"I envy you," confessed Sansa suddenly, opening her eyes. Daenerys quirked an eyebrow and Sansa's blush deepened. "What I mean is, you're a queen. Even if I were somehow comfortable enough to take lovers, there would be much shame and consternation directed at me. I have to hold myself to a standard that doesn't seem to apply to you. Or you don't care. Or… you know what it is I'm trying to say…"

"You're referring to the freedom I enjoy to make my choices without regard to others' expectations. But I'm not to be envied," Daenerys said, raising herself up onto her left elbow, and sighed deeply. "I am still unlucky in love. When my first husband died, I didn't want to go on. And when I did I didn't think I would ever love again. I didn't want to. I didn't ever want to feel that dependency on another person again. The lovers I took were for pleasure only. But then I met Jon and I felt like I could share who I really was with him. For so long I've had to display more coldness and strength than any man would be expected to have. I think you know a little of that. With Jon, I could be myself… but then we found out the truth about him. And I've lost him."

Sansa was moved by her words. She knew what it was like to have to stay within oneself, not knowing who to trust, not willing to risk that loss of control. In a way, Daenerys was also telling her that she felt comfortable enough with Sansa to say these things to her, to be that vulnerable. Sansa reached out her right hand to Daenerys's cheek and then quickly withdrew but before she could pull it back completely, Daenerys grabbed it with her own right hand.

"And now I don't know what I'm doing with you, Lady Sansa," Daenerys stated simply, lying back down, her head on the pillow, still holding Sansa's hand.

"We're two friends spending time together," Sansa answered after a short pause.

"Are we?" They laughed, eyes fixed on their linked fingers. Daenerys continued, "You know what I mean."

The air again felt stifling with the atmosphere of unspoken feelings. Sansa knew Daenerys wanted clarity; she wanted to understand what this was. Two people who were attracted to each other but could not be together should not be sharing a bed and speaking so intimately, and yet here they were, tempting themselves, refusing to end what should be ended.

"I know. But let's not talk about it. Let's just sleep and not think about expectations and complications. Get under the covers, your Grace." Sansa pulled her hand away and began undoing the knot on her robe, removing it.

"Yes, my lady," whispered Daenerys, sitting up to remove her own robe.

Daenerys's nightgown was ivory in color, had long sleeves, a ribbon that laced up an opening in the front, and was very similar to her own. Sansa got the feeling that it wasn't her usual night wear but of course winter in the North required more coverage. With Daenerys's back towards her, Sansa let her eyes linger on her hair, the shape of her that she could see through the nightgown. What am I doing? This is insane.

Daenerys turned back and lifted the covers and got in. Sansa did the same. They both giggled softly but then Sansa furrowed her brow.

"What is it?" asked Daenerys, concerned.

"I should tell you, I get nightmares. They're not as frequent as they were right after I escaped him… but how I am when I wake from them may be upsetting to you." Sansa did not want to describe the shaking, the mournful cries, and the sweat-soaked nightgowns. She watched Daenerys's eyes well with tears and knew that she understood.

Daenerys reached for her hand and brought it up to her lips, kissed it, and then said, "If that happens then I will hold and comfort you until you go back to sleep. You do not need to be afraid while I'm here."

"Thank you," whispered Sansa, letting Daenerys continue to hold her hand. Sansa quickly settled and closed her eyes, feeling Daenerys's eyes on her but too scared to look back. She soon fell asleep.

Just before dawn, when consciousness came to Sansa, she was vaguely aware that she'd had a restless night. She didn't need to open her eyes to know that she was tangled up in sheets, left leg thrown up over a twisted portion, her left arm thrown over a pillow that ended with something smooth and silky. That's your shoulder, silly, her mind scolded her. But then why didn't she feel the pressure of her hand on her shoulder? She gently squeezed and then all thought moved to her hand. Her eyes flew open and she saw that it wasn't sheets that she was tangled up in but Daenerys, her head next to hers on the same pillow, her leg thrown over Daenerys's hip, her arm across her chest and gripping Daenerys's shoulder. Daenerys was on her back but her face was turned towards her. If she leaned forward slightly, their noses would be touching. Instead of pulling away, Sansa froze. How was she going to explain this? Daenerys's eyes were still closed but was she asleep? Did she know? Did something happen? No, she'd had a lot of wine but not that much. What do you mean not that much, Sansa? It was still enough for you to embrace Daenerys in your sleep! Sansa was afraid to move, afraid to wake Daenerys, afraid to have to explain…

"As much as I'm enjoying your silent panic, Lady Sansa, I do believe you have two choices," whispered Daenerys. Her eyes were still closed but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

Sansa rolled away from Daenerys and sat up, shame and embarrassment flooding her.

Daenerys sighed. Sansa briefly wondered if it was relief or disappointment behind her sigh. But she was too mortified to dwell on it.

"I deeply apologize, your Grace. To touch you so intimately and without your permission… I don't know what came over me…" rambled Sansa.

"It's fine, Lady Sansa…"

Sansa quickly grabbed Daenerys's forearm that was nearest her and looked at her fiercely. "No it isn't. You shared a bed with me but you did not give me leave to put my hands on you."

"Sansa…" breathed Daenerys, her expression full of understanding at Sansa's distress. "I am touched by your concern and I am grateful that you do not dismiss such a thing so easily. Please believe me when I say that I am fine. I don't feel anything but safe with you. Truly."

Her eyes looked as if she wanted to say more and Sansa felt the heat of that gaze. But then Daenerys sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed so that her back was to Sansa.

Sansa was relieved that Daenerys was willing to let it go without offense and without teasing. She tried not to think about how it felt, touching Daenerys, but she couldn't suppress the desire it inspired in her.

"I had fun last night. It's been many years since I stayed up talking with a friend," offered Sansa as a way to move past the awkwardness.

Daenerys turned around to look at Sansa.

"I had fun, too. It made me think of what my life might've been like growing up in the Red Keep, ladies in waiting, close friends staying up all night in our bedchambers…" Daenerys paused, her face becoming unreadable. "The truth is you've done so much more than that for me. I was beginning to despair at ever truly winning over the people of Westeros, of ever really belonging to the land of my birth. But with your help, the people here no longer look at me in fear. My soldiers have begun to be looked at by the northmen as true comrades in arms. If a people as wary of strangers as yours are can have their minds changed, then I am optimistic that the same can happen elsewhere. Jon was right about them needing time but they also needed someone like you to show the way. Thank you, Lady Sansa."

Sansa smiled and nodded, looking down and trying to hide how low she felt. She trusts me. She feels safe with me.

Daenerys reached for her robe and stood up, putting it on.

"You do not have to leave, your Grace. I can have food brought here for us…"

"No, I do not think that would be wise. I don't want to add to the whispers by having servants see me in your bedchamber like this."

After tying the rope of her robe, Daenerys looked towards Sansa again but then quickly looked away. Sansa realized that the ribbons lacing up her own sleep dress had come undone and the opening revealed one of her breasts. Clutching it closed, Sansa's impulse was to look away in embarrassment but this time she kept her gaze fixed on Daenerys, watching her try to calm her breathing, noticing how she gripped the side of her robe tightly with her right hand. These reactions made Daenerys very appealing to Sansa. She enjoyed seeing her struggle as much as Sansa always seemed to when confronted by their attraction.

"The next time you decide to come late to my rooms, perhaps bring along the nightgown and you can change here. It would head off any talk and then you can change back into your clothes in the morning and exit through my solar." Next time?! her mind panicked but her body purred, Yes, next time.

Daenerys looked at her and smiled.

Gods, she's beautiful, Sansa thought. Why do I torture myself by making future plans with her? Embroidering that dress, more nights in my bed. They aren't going to happen.

"Good idea," Daenerys replied slowly. There was the slightest turn of her body which made Sansa think she was going to rejoin her on the bed and Sansa held her breath.

Instead Daenerys followed with, "Enjoy your morning, Lady Sansa," slid her slippers on, and then walked out.

Sansa caught a glimpse of Grey Worm who had apparently waited there the whole night. That would definitely have been seen by a servant or two. Sansa frowned and lay back in her bed, thinking again of how she embraced Daenerys in her sleep. This attraction is escalating and I'm not helping. But did it matter? Arya would be taking care of all of it soon. Instead of feeling relief, the sadness and guilt returned.

*::::*

Daenerys walked into her bedchamber and saw Missandei waiting for her. They looked at each other in silence, understanding passing between them. Daenerys sighed and walked to her bed, removing her robe and then her nightgown. Missandei wordlessly approached her and proceeded to help wash her, dress her, and redo the braids in her hair. Finally, while working on the braids, Missandei spoke.

"You need to be careful, your Grace."

"I know," answered Daenerys dismissively, not wanting to hear her friend's disapproval.

"It's not just your reputation that you need to worry about. It's hers, too. The northern lords already take umbrage with how Jon knelt and gave up the North to you. They blame you, callously saying you spread your legs and down he went."

"Missandei!" warned Daenerys, turning to look at her. She was shocked at her phrasing.

"Jon's standing with them hasn't recovered," continued Missandei, ignoring the warning. "Do you wish the same to happen to her? A friendly Lady Stark is a good thing but talk of Queen Daenerys having seduced the Lady of Winterfell in order to win her friendship will only have the lords accuse you of corrupting their leaders."

Daenerys thought on her words. She knew Missandei was making valid points, however much she hated it.

"Nothing happened between us. We just talked."

"But something would've happened if she had wanted it," stated Missandei matter-of-factly.

She didn't answer and let Missandei finish her braids. When she finished, Daenerys stood up from her chair and turned to her friend.

"I will increase my efforts not to malign Lady Sansa's good name. Are you satisfied?"

Missandei gave a sympathetic smile and nodded.

"You like her, don't you? What of Jon?"

"I don't really wish to talk about this," replied Daenerys harshly. But then her shoulders sagged. "It's just too complicated, Missandei. I love him and he's had second thoughts; I like her but she seems confused about what she wants. I should just be done with the both of them."

"But you don't want to do that."

"No, I don't," whispered Daenerys after a pause.

She thought of this morning, waking up and feeling Sansa holding her. Her heart raced, hoping Sansa had started something but then she realized Sansa was still sleeping. Somehow she had known that Sansa was about to wake and she closed her eyes, turned her face to Sansa's and waited for Sansa to speak. Daenerys liked the smell of Sansa's hair and she had inhaled deeply, allowing herself to pretend that this was their room, their bed, and that she was in the arms of her lover. She had wondered if she'd been mistaken about Sansa being close to waking but then she felt Sansa's hand lightly squeeze her shoulder. It took all of her control not to turn into Sansa's embrace and kiss her but Sansa didn't say a word so Daenerys had spoken first. For one gloriously, hopeful moment she thought Sansa might choose to take it further but she had pulled away instead. It had been incredibly frustrating and Daenerys was tempted to throw herself at Sansa, to force her to face her desire, but instead she held back. The truth was she was as confused about this as Sansa was.

Without wanting to, her mind saw the image of Sansa in her bed, nightgown opened to reveal her breast. Nudity was not something that ordinarily flustered her but the sight of Sansa like that had affected her deeply. Instead of shying away, Sansa held herself steady and spoke of future nights in her room. If we're supposed to be denying this attraction, why would she plan for more nights together?

"Missandei… would it really be terrible if… if Sansa and I were to give in to these feelings?" Daenerys's heart pounded. She needed to talk to someone. Missandei would understand.

Her friend sat down in the chair facing her and looked at her queen with kindness. It relaxed Daenerys and she knew she could speak freely. She would share everything.

"Tell me what's happened."

Daenerys laughed lightly and felt shy all of a sudden. "A great many things, Missandei."


A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

Per Jo's suggestion, I did add this over at AO3 (thanks, Jo!). So it'll live on at both.