A/N: Thanks for the reviews on the previous chapter. I'm humbled by all the positive responses this story has received.
Chapter 13
Sansa and Daenerys strolled arm in arm through Winter town and Sansa was surprised the previous night's conversation hadn't dampened Daenerys's humor or raised suspicion. She'd made an error by revealing her thoughts like that in her 'game'. But she'd made many of those recently, the biggest being allowing herself to care for Daenerys Targaryen. She had half expected Daenerys to cancel, and a small part of her hoped that she would. But here they were and every step felt like heartbreak.
The people came out to greet Daenerys as they passed. Sansa no longer saw distrust directed at Daenerys or her soldiers, and the people had welcomed their help in rebuilding their structures and distributing food. Daenerys had been a quick study and she freely talked to the people, remembered their names and the names of their children, frequently inquiring after them and their health. With Sansa at her side, Daenerys seemed at ease amongst her northern people, and Sansa again silently cursed Daenerys's advisors and Jon for not doing more to make their queen more approachable, less foreign. It hadn't taken long at all and already Daenerys had won their respect and maybe even a true loyalty. If there had been more time, Sansa could have taken Daenerys to the other important houses of Westeros to gain their support. With her help, Daenerys would have had most of Westeros united against Cersei. Her head fell.
"What's wrong, Lady Sansa? Are you ill?" Daenerys asked, holding Sansa's hands. They had just finished talking with another family who had thanked Daenerys for fighting for them. Four guards walked behind them; two Unsullied, Podrick, and Brienne. Arya had told her it would be better to replace Brienne with someone else but Sansa knew it would be more believable to have her sworn sword with her.
"No, I'm not ill," answered Sansa. "Sometimes it can be difficult seeing all the hardships of my people."
"I understand. I see now why they love you so fiercely. You show them respect and loyalty. You stand up for them. You are truly formidable, Lady Sansa," Daenerys gently said, her fingers lightly grazing Sansa's hands.
"Thank you, your Grace."
"Please, call me Daenerys. We are friends now, after all."
Sansa nodded and looked into Daenerys's eyes and saw genuine affection and friendship. It had been what she wanted, what she'd been working towards. But to use it against her. To wrench power away from her. And now where was she? Torn. Because she felt genuine affection as well. She had seen the good in Daenerys that Jon and Tyrion had always said was there, had seen that Daenerys was worthy of their trust. And now her skin tingled at Daenerys's touch. Her cheeks warmed at receiving her smiles. Glancing down at their hands joined together, Sansa let them linger a little longer than what would be considered appropriate between friends. Sansa looked back up and a whisper of something passed through her heart but before she could consider its meaning she saw a hooded figure standing in the far distance ahead of them, staring at her. It was Arya, using one of her faces.
Sansa's heart caught in her throat. She slowly took her hands away from Daenerys and looked around briefly. It was too crowded. The guards would catch Arya. She needed to get Daenerys away from them, somewhere alone, a place where it could be done quickly, painlessly, where Daenerys wouldn't see that she'd been the one responsible. Not out here, where there would be screams and chaos. She had to act quickly before Arya came closer.
"Your Grace… could I speak to you privately? There's something I've been struggling with that I don't know quite how to say out loud, out here, but if I wait any longer I might be too afraid to speak it."
"Of course, Lady Sansa," Daenerys said, taking her arm and together they quickly walked along the narrow street. Sansa spotted a potter's house that would allow privacy. It was small but the windows had a dusty layer so it would be hard to see inside and like many of the tradesmen's homes, she knew it had an entrance on the other side. Arya would be able to sneak in that way as long as the guards stayed out front.
At the entrance, they asked the potter if they could use his home for a little while and he agreed.
"Ser Brienne, please stay out here while I speak with the Queen," instructed Sansa. Daenerys nodded similarly to her guards and they stayed outside while she and Daenerys entered the small house, closing the door.
Sansa's heart raced. She looked at the shelves of bowls and vases and began to panic. Already she had made a mistake. It was supposed to be in public. Now she had gotten Daenerys alone. Suspicion would fall on her. But that's not what really scared her. Daenerys was looking at her expectantly, so much trust in her eyes. Sansa gasped at how much she didn't want this. To see her face lose that trust. To see her eyes lose their light. She reached for Daenerys's hands, pulling close to her, their breaths intermingling. She should shout out to Arya to stop but she couldn't. That would betray Arya and her own involvement. Daenerys would know. She couldn't let that happen. But she didn't know what else to do. What can I do?
"Sansa… are you all right? What is it?" Daenerys whispered, encouraging her friend to speak.
How could I let it get this far? I can't let this happen.
"I…" Sansa was fraught with fear.
She felt a hand on her cheek. Daenerys's hand. She's trying to calm me. But the look in her eyes spoke of a different kind of hope. Sansa's breath hitched and before she knew it she was pressing her lips against those of Daenerys. She heard Daenerys's small squeak of surprise in her throat but instead of being pushed away, Daenerys's hands grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. Sansa backed her against a table, holding her arms tightly. Arya would have to pull her off; Sansa would stay between them to keep Daenerys safe.
Deepening the kiss, Daenerys parted her lips and Sansa did the same, her arms wrapped around the smaller woman, using her height to bend Daenerys's head back to kiss her harder. It was passionate, hungry lips and heavy breaths. When she caressed Daenerys's tongue with her own, she felt Daenerys melt against her and Sansa relished the power she felt, the power Daenerys was giving her. At the same time she felt weak, like she was surrendering herself, like the layers of ice and steel she'd built up were finally falling away. Sansa didn't know why she had resisted for so long and she felt overcome by the joy of it, to hold this woman in her arms, to taste her, to feel her warmth. Small hands clutched her back and her own hands wandered upward to grip silvery hair. She was delirious with desire and could tell Daenerys felt the same. Sansa thought she heard the back entrance gently open and she pulled Daenerys tightly to her, kissing her more roughly than before. A moment later it closed.
The danger was gone and a relieved Sansa pulled back to stare into dark, lustful eyes, knowing her eyes showed the same. Daenerys grabbed her face and pulled her back into their kiss, a teeth clashing, lip bruising fight for dominance. They were pulling at each other's collars now, trying to reach sensitive necks. When Sansa felt a bite on her neck, she couldn't help the moan it released. She felt the smile against her neck and her knees buckled but Daenerys's arms held her up. Daenerys dragged kisses back to her mouth, fingers digging into her back as Sansa feverishly returned her kisses. Sansa noted that the woman was stronger than she looked. Strong enough to ride a dragon. Strong enough to strike down as many wights as she could in a desperate stand with her devoted friend until Arya killed the Night King. Arya.
Sansa opened her eyes in shock and pulled back, panting, hands smoothing her dress and brushing back loose strands of her hair. Daenerys stepped closer but Sansa stepped back again, hoarsely saying, "No, please." This was too much. But she couldn't explain what happened or why. Daenerys was also trying to catch her breath and she looked concerned for Sansa. The heat inside Sansa urged her to kiss her again, those tender, full lips. She almost did but then she closed her eyes, summoning her control.
"Guards," Sansa called out in a loud, shaky voice. Brienne and the Unsullied entered, Podrick remained outside. "Please escort the Queen to the castle. She is tired."
Daenerys looked as if she wanted to challenge this lie but seemed to understand Sansa's silent plea to go.
"Lady Stark," Daenerys said with a quick nod, and walked out with her Unsullied. Brienne stayed behind.
"My lady, is anything the matter?" asked Brienne, once Daenerys was gone.
"No, of course not. I will return to the castle now, too. I just need a moment," she answered, wiping her eyes, trying to catch her breath. Sansa avoided Brienne's eyes; she knew what she would see there. But Brienne was loyal and could be counted on to say nothing.
Walking out into the street, speaking with the various people as she made her way back towards the castle, Sansa felt a different kind of worry. And those layers of ice and steel reasserted themselves around her.
*::::*
Sansa was exhausted when she made it back to her rooms. She had noticed Daenerys in the courtyard but didn't look her way as she rushed into the castle. Sansa thought only of her bed and the rest it promised. She would concentrate on the day's actions, her actions, tomorrow after she was able to calm herself.
Walking in, she saw Arya waiting for her. With a deep sigh, Sansa closed the door behind her and waited for her sister's wrath.
"What the seven hells was that, Sansa?!"
"Shhhh, keep your voice down."
"All of our plans. Everything relied upon this…"
"I know."
"I had it all worked out, Sansa. I knew something was wrong as soon as you entered that house," Arya bit out.
"I know."
Sansa walked over to her bed and sat on the edge.
"Why then?" Arya's voice was a plea. She wanted to understand.
"All I know is that I want her to live. We were wrong. I was wrong."
"That's not what I'm asking," Arya hissed. "Why were you kissing her?"
Arya's rage boiled over but she managed to keep her voice low. Sansa still felt it as loud as any shout.
"I didn't know how else to signal you away without letting her know," Sansa offered half-heartedly, eyes lowered.
Arya scoffed, unbelieving, and began pacing.
"When you said you would be working her on the North's behalf, I didn't realize that meant you would seduce it out of her. Is that what you're doing? Trading yourself like a…"
"Enough!" Sansa shouted so loudly, she was sure it could be heard down the corridors. And just as quickly as her anger had flared, it dissolved into self-doubt. Is that what she had been doing? Her intent had been to use friendship and the promise of allies but hadn't she flirted, too? Hadn't she touched Daenerys intimately? That day of their race? That morning in her bed? If Daenerys had been willing to let those lingering looks and touches remain in a vague fog of denial before, she would not do so now that Sansa had given them a foundation in the form of a very passionate kiss.
"What about the messages to the other lords? Gaining support against her. Are we just going to tell them to forget it?"
"I never sent the messages," Sansa whispered.
"What?" Arya stopped, approaching Sansa to hear better.
Sansa looked into her sister's eyes and repeated, "I never sent the messages."
Arya blinked rapidly, mouth slightly opened. Sansa stood up, towering over her sister.
"I thought it was because I wanted to make sure the deed was done so that the other lords wouldn't know of our involvement. To at least make sure her people would never have any reason to blame us. Varys's little birds are everywhere after all."
"And now?" Arya asked.
Sansa turned around and faced the bed, remembering Daenerys there, how she looked the previous morning. Her hands began to tremble and she clenched them into fists.
"And now I suppose it was because I was giving myself time to back out."
She heard Arya take a few steps towards the door. Sansa thought she would storm out but then she heard a small voice say, "Do you love her?"
Sansa turned to her sharply, facing Arya's back. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous."
Arya whipped around. "I don't believe you. I saw the way you were kissing her. How she was kissing you. That passion was real."
"Arya…" Sansa warned. She didn't want to discuss this any longer.
"What about Jon? If he finds out about the two of you..."
At Arya's mention of Jon, Sansa felt ashamed and turned to sit back down on the edge of the bed. She wanted to point out that he'd ended it with Daenerys and had no claim to her but it would be a pathetic argument.
"He won't find out. And you'll keep silent about this," Sansa said. "Promise me; promise me you won't say anything."
"Fine! I promise. So what now? She's not going to free the North, Sansa. Everything you want is now out of reach."
And it was. Sansa saw clearly that she had conceded the North, unexpectedly, and after weeks of worrying over how best to free it. But she'd also spent the last several weeks wishing she could let go of her need for control. Well now she had done it and it felt freeing in a way; being able to say that she trusted Daenerys with her people felt right and true.
"She will be a good queen, Arya. I've seen it. She will have the people behind her."
"The lords will remain wary."
"And when have the lords ever shown themselves to be otherwise?" asked Sansa harshly. "All they care about is power and the weight of their coffers. They won't have as much power under her rule but the peace will fill their coffers just the same."
Sansa glared angrily at unseen, bristling lords but then softened when she remembered Arya in the room. "She just needs the right people behind her, Arya. Not Tyrion, not Varys, she doesn't trust their judgement anymore. She needs people she respects who don't just tell her what to do, but show her. Instead of threatening her position, I should've been supporting it all along. I let myself be blinded by fear. My dislike of her, all of it was because I was afraid to trust her, afraid of what she was capable of. But aren't we all capable of terrible things? Haven't we also done terrible things?"
Arya stood straight and unmoving, her eyes never leaving Sansa's. "It seems your plan to gain her trust has been twisted around. You do love her."
Sansa looked down at her feet. Even if I did… But no, she couldn't think of that possibility. She shook her head, still not looking up at Arya.
"It's been only two weeks since I started this friendship."
She heard Arya walk towards her and she was surprised when Arya sat down next to her.
"It happens faster than you think, Sansa," Arya answered softly. Sansa was surprised at the quick change. She stared curiously at her, wondering what Arya knew of love. She would have to pay more attention to what her sister had been up to. But now wasn't the time to dig deeper, she needed to shift the subject of love away from her to Jon.
"Jon loves her. And I will help him see that the best chance for the North and our position is for him to renew his attentions towards her. Even you suggested this option after Jon told us, remember? We must choose this queen, Arya. When you find the right time, speak with him, let him know you'll support him in his choice of her."
The shaking in Sansa's hands was getting harder to hide. Sansa began to feel like at any moment she might break down into tears.
"And if her own attentions are now focused elsewhere?" Arya wasn't arguing with her anymore. Sansa heard a more concerned tone.
"Then I will redirect them," she answered faintly, twisting her hands together. In the back of Sansa's mind she wondered if it would be that easy. Daenerys had returned her kiss with equal fervor. If she hadn't pulled away, who knows what would've happened. I'll find a way. The North is hers. I just need to ensure a healthy alliance between us.
Sansa felt Arya's hand cover her own.
"Just take deep breaths," Arya whispered.
"Arya… Arya, I don't know what's happening…" Sansa's breathing became more erratic and her heart was beating rapidly.
"It's all right. Just breathe."
"If you hadn't stopped…"
"Then you would've fought me or found another way to stop me. You wouldn't have let it happen. Keep breathing."
"Arya…" Sansa looked up, letting the tears fall at last. I almost lost her, I almost murdered her.
"Shhhh, just empty your mind, try to relax, just breathe."
Sansa listened to Arya's soothing words and focused on breathing. After a while the trembling stopped but the exhaustion returned and she moved to lie down on the bed. Arya adjusted and helped with her legs and skirts.
"Are you still angry?" Sansa whispered.
"Yes. But I'm glad you were brave enough to stop it. Given your feelings for her, it would've broken you. And the Lady of Winterfell needs to stay strong."
Sansa nodded, said 'thank you' to her sister, and closed her eyes. She didn't have the energy to continue arguing with Arya about her feelings and wanted to rest for a few hours.
*::::*
Daenerys entered the castle grounds and noticed Jon talking with Ser Davos. She growled and turned away from them. Missandei approached, noticing how her queen seemed disturbed and angry, but Daenerys waved her away.
"Your Grace," said Tyrion, approaching from behind.
Daenerys turned around to face her Hand. She hadn't spoken alone with him in days and now that she was standing in front of him, she wanted nothing more than to strike him. He loves Sansa. My Sansa. That last thought brought heat between her thighs and she masked a gasp by turning and raising her hand to let him know she needed a moment to collect her thoughts. Her gaze caught Sansa returning to the keep with Ser Brienne at her side and Daenerys's body flushed again with desire. She watched until she disappeared into the castle and Sansa didn't once look at her. For one heart-stopping moment, she felt like rushing inside and hurrying Sansa into the nearest bedchamber to make Sansa moan again. Then she noticed Tyrion standing patiently waiting for her to address him.
Jealousy burned within her. Jealousy over his intimacy with Sansa and the night they shared. Images of Sansa tangled up with Tyrion came to her and she began to feel her anger turn to hate. Daenerys closed her eyes and inhaled deeply and remembered how Sansa had taken her breath away. Sansa had looked positively frantic trying to speak with her and she began to hope that Sansa would finally voice what seemed to be happening between them since they began spending time together. The kiss was more than she'd expected and her skin still burned with the memory of it. The tall and beautiful Sansa Stark had clutched her with a fiery passion. But then she'd pulled away without any explanation and Daenerys's frustration over that made her angry at everything. She needed an outlet, she needed to get away from this castle.
"Lord Tyrion, I need to leave for a few hours. I wish to see how Rhaegal is recovering. I will take Drogon and fly with them for a while." Daenerys walked toward the gate, looking at the sky, already seeing Drogon and Rhaegal fly towards the grounds outside. They knew she needed them.
"Are you sure that is wise, your Grace?" Tyrion asked, following behind her as quickly as he could.
"No," she laughed ruefully. "But I need time alone."
Tyrion stopped following her and she waited for her children to land. Drogon readied himself and she quickly mounted him. Without another word to Tyrion, she flew up into the clouds to think about what to do about her situation with Sansa Stark.
The wind in her hair and on her face was a pleasant distraction. She noticed how Rhaegal seemed stronger and this pleased her, too. She let time pass without focusing on anything. Her children seemed to know where to go and she let them fly. Before she realized it, they had brought her to the waterfall that Jon had shown her. She smiled down at Drogon. Her feelings were not a secret from him.
After they landed, Daenerys climbed down off Drogon and enjoyed the beauty around her. The beauty of the North. This time thoughts of Jon didn't anger her. She needed to face those thoughts if she were to figure out what was really behind that kiss with Sansa. With Jon, she'd admired his honor, his bravery, and she'd felt an immediate connection with him. With Sansa, there was that similar initial animosity but their dynamic had been different. Sansa didn't like her, didn't trust her, she disrespected her in front of Jon and her council. She did everything to challenge her, trying to push her to do something rash and show Jon and everyone else that Daenerys Targaryen didn't deserve their fealty. Sansa was representative of how the whole of Westeros viewed her and no one, not Tyrion nor Jon, could make Sansa yield to her.
Instead Daenerys had yielded to Sansa. At the first overture of friendship, Daenerys jumped at the opportunity. Sansa got Daenerys to acquiesce to things she'd not bothered with since arriving in Westeros: rest for the armies, showing care for the smallfolk, and appreciating the responsibilities of being the lady of a great house. The kingdom, accounting, the household, the stores, the petitioners, day by day Daenerys had watched and tried to learn, vowing to take a closer interest in the running of the Red Keep and King's Landing when she took the throne. She had tried to rule in Meereen and her advisors had done their best but it was an entirely different experience seeing what true leadership and rule could be.
Daenerys was humbled by Sansa. No longer did she view her as an obstinate thorn in her side. She admired her and wanted her approval. But was this Sansa's plan all along? Not just to get Daenerys more sympathetic to the North's needs but to go so far as to seduce her? It wasn't the first time that thought crossed her mind and she thought back to the beginning. The hints of an attraction were there even then but Sansa seemed as surprised as she whenever things got too close, which seemed to happen more often than not. Neither of them helped matters by the touches, the increasing frequency and daring of their flirtations, and the night she'd spent in Sansa's bed. All of that had led up to this, this unexpected and very much welcomed kiss.
Last night she'd been worried about Sansa's intentions. But the conversation with Varys afterwards yielded no new information on Sansa's activities. No additional ravens had been sent by Sansa as far as he knew and no whispers reached him from those more disagreeable northern houses about anything being planned. Last night's 'game' in the Godswood didn't seem to be anything more than Sansa trying to gain further insight into her character. Or maybe she was trying to push me away and fight against her feelings.
Turning her thoughts back to Jon, Daenerys sighed. Sansa had distracted her from her confusion and anger with him but Jon still lingered in her heart. Could she really be this attracted to Sansa or was she using their friendship as a balm for her heartbreak over Jon? If he came to her tomorrow and told her he was ready to embrace their relationship, what would she say? Daenerys didn't have answers to these questions. The only thing she knew for certain: one kiss with the Lady of Winterfell would not be enough.
*::::*
Jon Stark was standing on the balcony over the yard alone when Sansa slowly walked towards him. It was early evening and nearly time for dinner. The rest had helped but the first thing she thought of upon waking was finding Jon. She stood by his side and enjoyed the quiet happenings in the yard below. It was peaceful watching people go about their tasks.
"You've been spending a lot of time with the Queen," Jon said, without looking at her.
"Yes, I have," answered Sansa.
"I thought at first you were plotting against her," he huffed, "It seemed too quick a turnaround for you given how you treated her in the beginning. But it seems you've really become friends. You two seem comfortable together."
Sansa didn't answer at first, schooling her features and choosing her words carefully. "She's a remarkable woman. I misjudged her."
"Well, your friend has flown off on a dragon to who knows where. They've been gone for hours and it's nearly sundown."
"Are you worried about her?"
"Of course I'm worried about her. She's my queen."
She nodded in response and after a moment, decided the direct approach would be best with her brother. "Do you still love her, Jon?"
He looked at her sharply then. Then looked around to make sure there were no eavesdroppers.
"You know that it's over between us," he whispered.
"I wish to speak with you. Accompany me to the Godswood?"
Jon nodded. They didn't meet anyone along the way and before they knew it, they were surrounded by the peaceful wood. She didn't say a word until she was sure no one had followed them.
"Jon, I think you've made a mistake spurning your queen."
"She's my blood, Sansa," he said through gritted teeth.
"So what!" Sansa said, her voice rising. "I don't care how you're related. Arya doesn't care."
"Sansa…"
She turned to the weirwood tree and took several deep breaths. It had always been difficult arguing with her siblings without letting her emotions interfere with her responses. Jon needed to hear her advice, not his sister harping at him. Sansa turned back to him and spoke more calmly.
"You love her and she needs you by her side. Not just as a loyal advisor. You two complement each other, I refused to see it before because I was so scared for the North and angry at you for giving it away but you were right to do it. You should… you should wed her." Sansa's voice quavered slightly in that last sentence. A strange ache overtook her heart at the thought of Daenerys being wed to Jon but it was the right thing for the realm, for the North.
"The North will care who I am to her," Jon shook his head.
"You don't have to tell any of them who you really are. You can still be her consort, if anonymity is your wish. You can have her legitimize you as a Stark, keeping your secret to the grave. I have already sworn never to tell. And even if you did tell everyone, the North won't care because your family will stand behind you. Arya, Bran, and I will stand behind you."
"I don't know, Sansa. I don't know if I can just change how my kinship with her makes me feel when I touch her. The hurt on her face when I can't…" he trailed off, not wishing to share the details, for which Sansa was grateful. She didn't want to think of them embracing, not for one moment longer, especially since the memory of her kiss with Daenerys from several hours earlier was still fresh in her mind.
"Think about it some more, Jon. You've not known her as family. You've had separate lives. She is simply the woman you love. The blood connection is incidental. I'm telling you that I don't care, that I won't think less of you. I will support your marriage, I will support the both of you."
"You would bend the knee?" Jon seemed almost shocked.
"I would do what was best for the North. You taught me that. If not for your love for her then for us. You know what she's capable of, how she will view us without you at her side. I've worked these last weeks to show her that real people need leadership and not a conqueror. You undo everything and put us at risk if she sees you as a threat to her claim. And we are threatened, too, because of our knowledge of who you are."
Sansa gave him a hug and walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. She had exaggerated the threat to the Starks. After that kiss, she knew she could control that threat if it ever emerged because she'd done more than just earn some of Daenerys's trust. Much more.
She should've been happy. Daenerys felt something for her and she could use that on behalf of the North's interests. It was an advantage that Littlefinger and Cersei would not have failed to exploit. But the guilt she felt told her not to do that to Daenerys. Sansa was tired of the lies, tired of the manipulations, tired of being afraid to take a chance. Daenerys deserved better. And Jon would be better for her. Sansa would forge a different path and choose them both to ensure the North's safety. That's what mattered. Not these feelings, not the way Daenerys's sighs felt while biting those full lips. Now all Sansa had to do was figure out how to face her when she returned. Resisting Daenerys had been difficult before but now that she knew what kissing her was like, she wasn't sure if she could resist her again.
A/N: So, what'd you think? :-)
Yes, my Dany was saved by a kiss and I have no shame about that writing choice whatsoever, lol. Come on, I've been writing an angsty romance not a darkfic.
The more I read the final draft of this chapter, the more tempted I am to leave it as the ending. I like the open-endedness of it. Like anything can happen. But I've grown to love this pairing and I want to see more of how they deal with the fallout of this kiss so I'm sticking to my original plan. More denial, emotional and physical intimacy (it's a mature-rated fic after all), and fear and impulsive choices, ahhhh. Fair warning, more emphasis will be put on the love story and less on politics. It won't be the same kind of tension-building as before the kiss but dealing with guilt (Sansa), duty and responsibilities (both), and past lovers (mostly Dany, but Sansa too) provides its own kind of tension.
To Jo: To be honest, in spite of the note I put in ch 2 and the tag over at AO3, as well as having most of the chapters mapped out, the ending is still up in the air.
One more thing: Work has me busy again which means updates will be a little slower over the next chapters. Hopefully not longer than two weeks between updates but we'll see.
