Chapter 14
Sansa hadn't planned to go to the dinner meal in the Great Hall but Daenerys's absence worried her as it had worried Jon and she wanted to be immediately available in case something happened. She tried not to think of the kiss earlier in the day or the confrontation with Arya, where she'd essentially collapsed in emotion in front of her sister and required her comfort. Instead she poked at her food and focused on Jon, who still looked full of worry. Whenever he glanced in her direction, she could tell he was thinking about what she had told him.
Suddenly Daenerys entered the hall and the murmurs increased in volume as she walked straight to the high table. Their eyes connected briefly and Sansa could've sworn she saw a small quirk in the corner of Daenerys's mouth, which sent a flutter through her chest, but Daenerys then directed her gaze to Jon. When Sansa looked at Jon, she saw relief light up his face as he stood up and walked around the table to greet her. Sansa didn't know what words were said, and their interaction still seemed stiff, but the smile on Daenerys's face told Sansa all she needed to know. Jon's greeting towards her and Daenerys's attention towards him, the jealousy this inspired in Sansa was surprising and she bit it back as her brother and his queen walked closely together to take their places at the table to eat. Sansa ate quietly without looking again at Daenerys and Jon.
Being so near Daenerys, however, made it impossible to continue ignoring what had happened today. Her very presence brought Sansa's thoughts into focus on their kiss and all their other intimate moments. She had felt nothing like it before. Sansa looked at Tyrion, who was conversing animatedly with his brother, and she smiled sadly before looking back down at her plate. He was a man that would never hurt her, and during their night together he had treated her as if she were the only woman in the world that mattered. She had needed that experience more than anything because she never expected to find it with anyone else, had even told him she didn't think she could ever love anyone in that way. In spite of the connection she felt, in spite of the thought in the back of her mind that she shouldn't rule him out completely once all of this was done, Sansa had been able to end it and set Tyrion aside without much effort. The cold reality she faced now was that everything with Tyrion now paled next to the heat she felt when Daenerys was in her arms earlier today. It overwhelmed her in a way that was almost frightening in its strength, making her wonder if Arya's belief about her feelings was true. Even now, when she knew she had to be strong and set this desire aside as well, her heart quaked at the thought, rebelling against her and demanding she march over to that side of the high table and pull Daenerys into another mind-shattering kiss.
Sansa huffed in frustration and pushed her plate aside, having had her fill of food, wine, and being ignored. This response from Daenerys had been unexpected. She thought Daenerys would swoop in and need to speak with her immediately, perhaps even demand a finish to what Sansa had started. Her response made Sansa question whether Daenerys had felt even a fraction of the passion she had felt. Had she misjudged Daenerys's reactions? These feelings were driving her mad and she rose to circulate through the room. It had been a while since she'd socialized, having been preoccupied with Daenerys for so long, and she had an urge to demonstrate her own independence from their 'friendship'.
She went to exchange greetings with Brienne and Podrick, the conversation familiar and comforting. Every once in a while she'd glance to the high table and would catch Daenerys's eye. She was sitting and conversing with Missandei, Jon having moved to sit with Tormund, but even when Sansa turned back to Brienne and Podrick, she could still feel the heat of Daenerys's gaze. And it was the response Sansa had been looking for, the acknowledgement that Daenerys had been affected by this just as much as she had been. Sansa's earlier insecurity was replaced by a smug satisfaction.
Moving through the hall to speak with others, Sansa felt her eyes, the flutter it sent her a reminder of how Daenerys had bitten her neck, and it was intoxicating. The more she ignored Daenerys, the stronger the heat of that gaze. Smirking to herself, she slowly walked to where Tyrion was sitting with Jaime. It was perhaps wicked of Sansa to see if she could inspire jealousy in Daenerys but she was feeling a little spiteful after the way Daenerys had smiled at Jon. When Sansa neared their table she risked a glance towards the high table and saw Daenerys's eyes widen slightly. Hmmm. Tyrion stood up for brief greetings and as they exchanged pleasantries Sansa was tempted to sit at their table to further push Daenerys's reaction but before she could make up her mind she saw Daenerys walking towards them, a dangerous look in her eyes. There it is, she noted to herself with an inward smile. Sansa quickly wished them a good evening and proceeded to the next table before Daenerys reached them.
For the next half hour it went like that, staying apart but their eyes continually seeking the other out. Daenerys still wasn't comfortable approaching everyone who ate in the hall so Sansa was able to keep her distance. Sansa would catch smiles and smirks on Daenerys's face as she was talking to someone else and knew they were meant for her, and she began to wonder if the smile Daenerys had given Jon in greeting had also been for her. As she spoke with others, Sansa formed her own smirks and smiles when she knew Daenerys's eyes were on her. She would sigh and remind herself that she was supposed to be redirecting Daenerys's affections but the selfish part of her was enjoying this secret dance of theirs.
Then Sansa noticed Jon alone at the high table and knew it was time to stop. She was supposed to be helping him, not sending clandestine smiles to the woman he loved across a crowded room, not enjoying herself when she had come so close to being a murderer. Sansa didn't bother to see where Daenerys was and made her way along the side of the hall towards the doors, saying good night to people as she passed, when Daenerys suddenly blocked her path.
"Good evening, your Grace," said Sansa politely, "I trust you and your dragons are well." Don't look at her mouth.
"Yes, Rhaegal is healing nicely. It was nice to get away for a while to think."
Sansa didn't ask but Daenerys continued, "Not of very serious subjects, in case you were curious. Just wondering how to convince you to ride with me on Drogon, things of that nature."
Sansa laughed in spite of herself. "That will never happen."
"Really?" asked Daenerys, and in a whisper she added, "Because I used to think Lady Sansa of House Stark would never passionately kiss me but today proved me wrong."
"Hush," whispered Sansa harshly, looking around to see who might be listening, but her worry still didn't stop the tingle on her lips at Daenerys's reference to their kiss.
"And what were you thinking about while I was gone?" Daenerys teased, seeming to enjoy Sansa's discomfort. She moved to stand beside Sansa, her fingers grazing Sansa's lightly. Sansa should've pulled away but instead she returned the slight graze with her own. The heat within her burned, as did the longing to share another kiss. She couldn't help but want to feel more of Daenerys against her.
"Things I shouldn't be thinking about, Daenerys," Sansa sighed, looking away. She heard Daenerys's small gasp at her first use of Daenerys's given name.
"And if I were to say I was thinking of the same things?" Daenerys said softly, speaking straight ahead but the words shot straight through to Sansa's heart.
"I would say that…" Sansa paused. I want you. That's what she wanted to say. She wanted to say it with every heated fiber of her being. But duty to her people and duty to Jon silenced her.
Instead Sansa whispered, "I would say that we shouldn't." Sansa pulled her fingers away and was about to walk away when she felt Daenerys grab her wrist. The aggressiveness made Sansa gasp slightly and the touch on her wrist sent a wave of arousal through her. How could one touch make her feel so much?
Daenerys turned to face Sansa. Sansa turned as well and pulled her wrist out of Daenerys's grasp, glancing around again to see who was watching and she was startled when she saw Arya looking at them from across the room. Arya hadn't been there all night and Sansa wondered when she'd arrived.
"Come with me now, Lady Sansa. I will not have this conversation here."
"What more needs to be said, your Grace?" Sansa asked defiantly, hoping her outward tone would help center herself.
"More than this," hissed Daenerys angrily. "Somewhere we can speak freely. Please."
Sansa shot another look at Arya, who seemed passive in her interest, but Sansa knew better. Her sister was on the alert for any need Sansa had of her. Daenerys was right, they couldn't talk out here in the open, and she nodded in agreement.
"My rooms," suggested Daenerys.
"No, I can't."
"Then yours."
"No, not there either. Please let me think." Sansa went through her mind, and every place she thought of was bad for different reasons. Too private and things might happen, too public and who knows who lurked nearby. The crypts? The Godswood? No, no, no. The only place that makes sense is Daenerys's suggestion. Her own guards keeping eavesdroppers away from her rooms won't have to be explained away.
"All right. Your rooms."
Daenerys caught Grey Worm's eye and she went to speak with him. Sansa stayed where she was and several moments later Daenerys returned.
"Let's go, Lady Sansa," Daenerys said calmly. Sansa walked alongside her and kept her face friendly, should anyone see them and wonder why they were leaving the Great Hall together with Grey Worm behind them.
*::::*
When they reached the corridor that led to Daenerys's rooms, Sansa became nervous. For a moment she thought Daenerys would lead them to her bedchamber but Sansa was relieved when she walked to the door that led to her solar. Once inside, Daenerys closed the door, turned around, and she looked sheepishly at Sansa.
"I'm sorry for getting angry before. I just needed to talk with you and you were acting so strangely. After earlier today…"
"It was a mistake, your Grace. I shouldn't have… "
"Don't do that, Sansa. You can't lie to me now. I felt it," said Daenerys, walking towards her and taking her hands. She whispered, "I felt how much you wanted it. And I wanted it, too."
"Daenerys…" breathed Sansa, acutely aware that Daenerys had stepped even closer against her, eyes looking up into hers and then at her lips.
"I like the way you say my name," murmured Daenerys, sighing loudly. "Sansa… Sansa, why do you keep fighting this?" Daenerys's eyes drifted closed as she pressed her lips against the corner of Sansa's mouth.
Her lips lingered there, waiting for Sansa to relent, and Sansa's temptation grew. She thought she'd been prepared for this but now that they were alone, Sansa's resistance faltered. Daenerys was touching her, lips just a hair's breadth away, bringing with them the memory of their softness against hers during their first kiss. That kiss had been rushed, an impulsive decision brought about by panic and fear. Sansa wanted a different kind of memory now. She brought up her hands to cup Daenerys's face, her eyes locked on the other woman's. Her breathing became ragged, like every breath wasn't bringing her enough air. But it wasn't air she needed, she needed Daenerys's mouth on hers. Sansa brought her forehead to rest against Daenerys's, searching for the willpower to stop.
"Did you bend the knee to save the North or because you love her?"
Sansa's own words echoed in her mind and she pulled her head back, moving her hands towards the nape of Daenerys's neck, just behind her ears. Jon never answered that question but she already knew the truth. It was both. Loving Daenerys made him see that she was not to be feared. Had the same happened to her? One of Daenerys's hands made its way to Sansa's neck, her thumb tracing a line against her jawline. She's alive. She's here and she's alive. Thankful tears welled in her eyes and Sansa leaned forward, gently grazing her lips against Daenerys's, feeling their tenderness.
"We both know how this ends, Daenerys," Sansa said in the faintest of whispers against Daenerys's mouth, her heart pounding, sadness creeping into her eyes. It isn't meant to be.
"Oh Sansa," whispered Daenerys in response, lightly nibbling around Sansa's mouth, teasing her. "You have no idea."
Sansa's heart nearly stopped at the way Daenerys had turned her words, painting a picture in her mind of the two of them in bed that inflamed her desire. Just one more kiss, she argued with herself. One more and then I'll stop it. She closed her eyes and pressed forward.
Daenerys let her take the lead. It was slower than their first kiss but no less passionate. With every parting of their lips, and every touch their tongues made against each other, Sansa was deliberate, savoring every taste, every sigh against her mouth. Daenerys's hands wandered along her chest and then her back, pulling their bodies together, but Sansa kept her own hands close to Daenerys's face. Fingers softly caressing her cheeks, drawing lines along her jaw and throat. She wanted to concentrate as much as possible on this kiss, how pleasurable it was, how Daenerys trembled against her when Sansa bit her lower lip. She wanted to remember it all.
When Sansa finally pulled away, she enjoyed the satisfied smile that Daenerys gave her, eyes still closed as if lost in a dream. Warmth filled her at being able to please this worldly queen. Could it be true? Is Arya right?
"Come to my bedchamber," whispered Daenerys, opening her desire-filled eyes.
"I can't," answered Sansa, shaking her head. I shouldn't have kissed her again. I've mislead her.
"After the way you've just kissed me, I think that you can, I think that you want to more than anything," said Daenerys, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the door that led to the bedchamber.
"Daenerys, we mustn't," she said, her voice quaking slightly at Daenerys's words, recognizing the truth in them. The throb between her legs was becoming unbearable, her body demanding release, and she desperately wanted to go into that bedchamber. But I can't. It doesn't matter that I stopped it, I still betrayed her and I can't take advantage of her like this. She pulled her hand away. "I'm sorry, I know that kiss just now… I know too much has happened to deny… that I'm tempted. Because I am. But I lost myself. This can't happen. I won't let it happen."
For a moment, Daenerys looked dazed but then Sansa saw her straighten, steeling herself.
"And why not?" asked Daenerys.
"You know why."
"I don't, Sansa. Explain to me your reasons."
"They're not just my reasons, they're our reasons. We need to take care not to let ourselves be ruled by selfish desires. To not let ourselves forget our responsibilities to our people. We know too many stories of the catastrophes that happen to a kingdom when two people who should have restrained themselves, didn't."
"I hardly think one night will end a kingdom. Did you give similar consideration before deciding to bed my Hand?"
Sansa's anger flared. She recognized Daenerys was lashing out in the face of her rejection but the remarks still stung. First with the seeming casualness with which Daenerys considered their potential coupling, and then with the accusatory question which Sansa knew meant 'you'll sleep with him, why not with me?' as if Sansa could so easily make herself vulnerable like this, as if the countless hours considering and reconsidering Tyrion had been just about politics. And Sansa's answer, the one that she wanted to shout back at Daenerys, but let gnarl in her chest instead: Because I knew he would never hurt me! The bitterness of that truth sank deep into her gut. That night with him hadn't been impulsive; it hadn't been a complete surrendering of herself. She'd maintained her control even then and knew without a doubt that she had not been in any danger of opening up the deepest part of her heart that she'd locked away the day her father had been executed. Part of her did love him, but not the part that mattered, not the part that was in danger right now in this room with Daenerys. Saying these things to Daenerys, however, would bring this conversation to the feelings that Sansa couldn't face or think about. It wouldn't be a night of pleasure that Sansa could walk away from like she did with Tyrion. Already she struggled with coming back to herself after kissing her. What would sleeping with Daenerys do to her?
Suppressing her anger, Sansa said, "Too much is at stake. You don't know what could happen. And then there's Jon, he's my brother." Grasping, that's what she was doing. Putting Jon between them allowed her to sidestep how she felt.
"Jon and I are over. He's made that clear."
A flinch in Daenerys's eyes as she said this was all Sansa needed to find the strength to continue pushing her away.
"No, you're not. You hide it well but I've seen how you two feel. What's happening between us is nothing. A lust-filled distraction, that's all."
"That's not how I feel about you, Sansa," Daenerys argued, stepping towards her.
Sansa held her ground, stiffened, and said, "But that's how I feel. I've made up my mind. For the good of all involved, we can only be friends."
Sadness came over Daenerys and Sansa realized that she had been too cold; that she was doing the exact same thing Jon had done. Inspiring and then spurning affection. Rejecting her outright could antagonize her and she didn't want to lose their friendship. Quickly, Sansa grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly. She needed to be careful with her next words; she had to find that elusive middle ground.
"I don't give my friendship lightly, Daenerys Stormborn. I am a Stark. It is hard for me to trust outsiders, to trust anyone really, but you've earned it."
Tears sprang from Daenerys's eyes and she felt Daenerys squeeze her hand. And before she could talk herself out of it, Sansa hugged her and whispered 'I'm sorry'. Turning her face slightly into Daenerys's neck, Sansa felt soft skin against her nose. She pulled out of the embrace and smiled. Sansa tried to convince herself that she could do this; she could maintain this friendship and not cross that line again. She may not have won a free North but keeping Daenerys's favor toward the North was still a priority.
"I'm not going to pretend I'm not disappointed, Lady Sansa, but your friendship has become very important to me and I do wish for it to continue," said Daenerys.
"Thank you, your Grace," Sansa said gently, using formal titles again to deepen the divide between them. "Thank you for understanding and for not holding this against me. I should take my leave and say goodnight."
Sansa walked to the door and put her hand on the latch then turned her head and said, "As I was leaving Winter town today some of the people asked if we would be returning soon. Shall we go again tomorrow?"
Daenerys nodded, blinked her eyes, and then took a deep breath. "Of course, Lady Sansa. Tomorrow would be fine. Goodnight and I'll see you then."
*::::*
The day in Winter town was uneventful but Sansa enjoyed herself more than she ever had before. The pressures of that murderous plan now gone, she could fully appreciate how gracious Daenerys was with the smallfolk. The problem was that Daenerys barely spoke to her. The awkwardness over yesterday was all around them. After they returned to Winterfell, Daenerys couldn't even look at her as they gave their parting words, nor did they make plans to see each other again for another outing the next day.
It hurt Sansa to feel their friendship not be as close as it was but she tried to convince herself it was better this way. Maybe being true friends was too much to hope for, especially since there would always be a lie between them, this guilt over what she'd nearly done that would never leave her. She shuddered to think what would happen if Daenerys ever found out. Execution would be a given but that wasn't what bothered Sansa the most. Instead it was the hurt that her friend would feel at this utter betrayal. It was selfish but she didn't want Daenerys to hate her. Dwelling on it wouldn't help matters, however, and Sansa still had the North to think about. Sansa resolved to do more to show Daenerys the benefits of House Stark's loyalty.
The following afternoon, Sansa made her way to the War Room where she knew Tyrion would be. When she arrived she saw him busy reading and writing messages. Varys was there, too, but when Tyrion looked up and saw her, he asked Varys to leave them. After he'd gone, Sansa and Tyrion looked quietly at one another and then she felt a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth. They'd gone through too much for her to be cold with him now.
He asked, "Does this mean we're talking again?"
"Not at all, Lord Tyrion," she replied with a smirk.
"So if we're not talking, what are we doing?"
"Well, the first thing I'm going to do is sit at that chair across from you. It looks quite comfortable and I would like to rest my feet."
Sansa walked over and sat down, making a great show of fixing the skirt of her dress and settling in.
"Am I supposed to be doing something while you rest your feet, Lady Sansa?" Tyrion asked with a grin.
"You should continue working, of course. I see you reading messages. Would you like to read some of mine?"
Sansa reached into a hidden pocket of her skirt and brought out a small stack of scrolls and handed them to him.
"These are copies," she whispered. "I've already sent the originals this morning."
Tyrion took the parchments, glanced through the first couple, and his eyes slowly widened in astonishment.
"Lady Sansa…" he replied breathlessly. "You continue to amaze me, my lady."
Sansa gave him a wry smile and said, "Be careful, Lord Tyrion. You shouldn't let ladies know how they affect you lest they see it as a weakness to exploit."
His eyes twinkled and Sansa knew he had a perfect reply in mind but before he could speak they heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, Sansa saw Daenerys coolly looking at them.
"Your Grace," Tyrion said, standing up. Sansa slowly stood up as well.
"Lord Tyrion, Lady Sansa. Working hard together, I see," said Daenerys. She addressed them both but kept her eyes on Sansa.
Sansa could feel the tension rise in the room. The awkwardness of having kissed the two of them made Sansa uncomfortable but she tried to keep her reserve intact. Daenerys was clearly jealous but Sansa refused to let Daenerys cower her over her friendship with Tyrion. She was allowed to speak with whomever she wished.
Tyrion looked between the two of them and broke the silence, "Um, yes, Lady Sansa brought over these messages for me to read."
He handed them to Daenerys and Sansa tried to keep the satisfied smile off her face as she saw the realization come over Daenerys's features. When Daenerys looked up at her again, it was in amazement and gratitude
"I've instructed replies to be addressed to you, your Grace. Lord Tyrion will keep you informed, I'm sure. Good day to the both of you." Sansa rushed through these words and left the room without waiting for a reply.
*::::*
Daenerys looked down again at the messages, fighting the blush that wanted to crawl up her neck. She knew Tyrion was staring at her.
"You've done it. You've won her," stated Tyrion.
"I didn't win her," she replied, knowing Tyrion had not the slightest idea of what she was referring to. It really was hard being in his presence now. He and Sansa had been so playful in their words with each other and seeing them together like that had pained her heart. Daenerys sat down in the chair Sansa had just used. She put the messages back down on the table.
"But you did, she's declared for you. These are messages to Glover, Manderly, Cerwyn, the Vale, her uncle Lord Tully, and more, declaring herself to House Targaryen and that House Stark requests all their bannermen, and other allies, to do the same. You'll have little trouble from the North and the Vale now; you may even have the Riverlands if her uncle responds favorably. How did you do it?"
"I did nothing. I suspect she is only supporting her brother's decision and providing the image of a united House Stark."
He eyed her in disbelief and a healthy amount of suspicion but Daenerys held his gaze and gave nothing away.
"Well, your Grace, we should be getting the first replies in several days. According to Lady Stark, she's already sent the messages. I will let you know as they arrive."
"Thank you, Lord Tyrion," Daenerys said quickly, rising and walking out the door.
Daenerys finally allowed herself to feel what just happened. Her heart raced as she walked to her rooms. She needed to find Missandei and tell her. She had indeed won the Lady of Winterfell. It was a victory but a bittersweet one given how Sansa had rejected her romantically. It should've been enough, having Sansa's declaration, but she couldn't help wanting more. She had felt it in that kiss, the second one that happened in her solar… there was lust, of course there was, but there was something else like a deeper-held longing. Daenerys had wanted to kiss her all night long to explore those mysteries, to figure out why Sansa had finally taken that step in Winter town. Sansa's rejection after that kiss had been a surprise. But now these letters, another surprise. Daenerys regretted her distance with Sansa on the previous day; she had been wary that Sansa intended to manipulate her feelings in some way, that she'd made an error in judgement and that Sansa was more cunning than previously thought. But there could be no doubt now; Sansa had proven herself and Daenerys wanted to make up for how she had acted. Mid-step, she turned and headed towards the kitchens.
*::::*
Sansa was in her bedchamber about to turn in for the night when she heard a light knock on the door. Her heart began racing as she quickly threw on her robe, recognizing the soft knock, knowing who it was. But she was also confused. Why would she come? Hadn't the visit to Winter town the day before shown that their closeness was over?
She went to the door and opened it. It was Daenerys, as she expected, but she was now dressed in the dark blue northern dress she had Missandei purchase in Winter town. And her nightgown was in her hands.
"Your Grace…" Sansa said. Her nightgown. She wants to stay the night. Her heart pounded in her chest but she also felt apprehensive. She whispered, "I thought we agreed just friends."
"We did," answered Daenerys with an apologetic smile. "And I felt bad for how I was yesterday. If we're friends, then I'd like to continue being friends."
Daenerys gestured behind her and Grey Worm stepped forward holding a plate of lemon cakes. Sansa glanced at the plate and then looked back at Daenerys with a bright smile.
"That is a very delicious friendship offering, your Grace," she said.
Daenerys chuckled in reply. "You said you would order them from the kitchen for me to try. Well you forgot. They do look and smell delicious. Shall we share them? May I come in?"
"Please," answered Sansa, opening the door and letting Daenerys pass through.
She took the plate from Grey Worm and then closed the door. Sansa walked over to the table and put down the plate. When she turned to Daenerys, she allowed herself to admire how Daenerys looked in the dress.
"I prefer the grey one but the blue is beautiful, too," said Sansa softly. Daenerys tried to hide the smile but Sansa could tell she liked the compliment. But then she looked nervous, still holding her nightgown.
"Lady Sansa… I feel I've been presumptuous about a second night together. I know that you spoke of more nights talking, suggesting I bring the nightgown… but that was before… if you would prefer that we not…"
Daenerys trailed off and Sansa was amused at how flustered she seemed. Something twisted low in Sansa's belly, a reminder of their secretive glances in the Great Hall in the aftermath of their kiss. These nights could be their secret, too. But it's a terrible idea, her mind warned.
"Are you sure you can resist the temptation, your Grace?" Sansa's voice came out more seductively than she'd intended but she had no regrets when she saw Daenerys's lips part in surprise and then curve into a sly smirk.
Walking closer to Sansa, Daenerys replied, "Can you?"
She looked confident and in control and, if not for the tight way Daenerys gripped her nightgown, Sansa wouldn't have been able to tell just how much she wanted to stay.
"The screen is over there if you want privacy but I can avert my eyes just as easily," said Sansa softly.
Their eyes locked, knowing that Sansa's words ignored that the circumstances of their attraction meant that Daenerys should most definitely use the screen. And prudence absolutely demanded they not share a bed.
Then Daenerys quirked an eyebrow and replied, "You could… but I don't mind if you don't."
Sansa's breathing quickened as Daenerys threw the nightgown on the bed and reached up to begin undoing the ties on the shoulders of her dress. She was smiling but there was a faint air of challenge. Sansa tried to turn away but in the end she covered her interest by gesturing for Daenerys to turn around, and Sansa walked over to help her with the ties. When Daenerys turned back around to face her, she was barely holding the dress up and Sansa could tell she was not wearing a shift underneath. Sansa blinked a few times and stepped away, having second thoughts over this decision. Then Daenerys began laughing.
"I should've removed my boots first," said Daenerys. Sansa smiled nervously in reply and went to sit down at the table, carefully keeping her eyes focused on the lemon cakes while Daenerys finished removing her clothes and then put on the nightgown.
Daenerys came over and sat at the table and then quickly grabbed a piece of lemon cake with her hand and plopped it into her mouth. Sansa laughed at the youthfulness of it and did the same. They both moaned in pleasure at the flavor and then laughed and blushed at their shared response.
"These are wonderful, Lady Sansa. I think we'll finish the whole plate."
"We better. I hate to see dessert wasted."
They indeed finished all the cakes, laughing and joking all the while, and when they were done cleaning up the crumbs from their laps, Sansa stood up. She directed a look at the bed and turned back to Daenerys, who grinned and rose from her chair. Sansa knew it didn't make sense, and it was not going to help in reuniting Jon with Daenerys, but she'd already given away so much. She'd given up the North, she had placed her trust in the Dragon Queen, and she had sacrificed her desires for the good of others. Could she not have this friendship for herself?
Daenerys got in the bed while Sansa went around blowing out some of the candles in the room, leaving the candle on the nightstand lit. She tended the hearth, making sure what was left of the burning logs would go out soon. Then she removed her robe and went to her side of the bed and got in.
In the dim light, she could see Daenerys's small smile. They had not had any wine so there would be nothing to blame if something happened.
"Your friend Missandei will not be happy with us," said Sansa.
"Did she say something to you?" Daenerys asked, frowning.
"She was just trying to protect you. This is irresponsible of us, after all."
"We'll be discreet."
Maybe it was how low Daenerys's voice was when she said that but it made Sansa's toes curl.
Sansa reached a hand out and Daenerys quickly took it in hers.
"Thank you for those messages to the lords, Sansa," whispered Daenerys.
"I will do everything I can to help you, Daenerys."
Daenerys nodded in reply, sighed, and then closed her eyes. Sansa stared at her for a while, wondering if she should pull her hand away. She had thought they would talk into the night like they did the first night but perhaps Daenerys recognized the risks of getting too personal. Sansa waited but then gently pulled her hand away and closed her eyes.
A/N: So close and still so far.
Thanks for the reviews on the previous chapter. I'm glad it didn't disappoint.
