Jon was tired as he sharpened his sword. Sitting here by the face tree he felt a stillness. It had been shocking to see the gaping wound in the side of the tree, leaking red sap where the bark was mangled from the gods emerging. He'd believed Sansa about what had occurred immediately. But it was different seeing for himself. Behind him, he heard the whisper of a gown upon the frozen grass.
"You look like father." Sansa greeted as she approached. She took the seat beside him on the roots of the tree overlooking the pool.
He looked at his sister. She was pale and drawn, her movements holding a certain stiffness that told him she was still physically pained from what the Bolton's had done to her. His grip on his sword tightened at the thought. "I never understood how he could spend hours here before. Now I don't want to leave."
"I don't want you to leave either." Sansa's profile didn't waver as she looked out across the pond in the godswood. "I wish I could ride with you."
Jon wanted to ask her to come with him. But he knew their plans required them to be parted. "Do you trust this god?"
"No." Sansa replied without hesitation. "But if she turns against us there is nothing we can do. If your Wildlings know how to kill a god it would be useful." She looked at him. "But her motivation since opening her eyes in this world has been protecting her companion."
He reached out his hand, laying it over hers. "I'm leaving Ghost. He'll look after you while I can't."
"I will hold Winterfell till you can return." Sansa looked at him with a strength and clarity of purpose he'd never known she could possess. "Don't let your guard down."
Jon tightened his grip over her hand. "I'll secure the western coast and return with as much haste as I can."
"Be careful. No one's loyalty is guaranteed." Sansa cautioned him.
He gave a slight nod. "Aye, I've learned that as well." And didn't it ache that they'd both learned that lesson. Jon sheathed his sword. "I'll send word when I can."
"Let us hope you find survivors of Stannis's army."
Jon looked back to the pool, it reflected the red leaves of the weirwood and the cold blue sky above them. "I don't like the men you have here."
"They're boys." Sansa replied, giving little away of what she must feel knowing the people now following her had been Bolton men and servants. The ones who'd seen a god and bent the knee rather than stand with their liege lord. Or, rather, pissed themselves and hidden till after the purge was done. "Stupid boys who didn't know to fear the death the Bolton's would give more than the quick deaths they would have faced from Daisy."
Jon's mouth tightened. "They're green boys, with uncertain loyalty."
"Brienne is more than a match for any of them. And the threat of Daisy's displeasure will keep them in line for the short time you're gone." Sansa straightened her skirts. "And green or not, they can do what will be required."
He reached out and hugged her to him. Things should be different. It should have been father, or Robb sitting here protecting Sansa. Winterfell shouldn't be a hollowed out husk of its former self. Their family should be whole and alive. But it was just them. And now he had to leave, to fight when his very soul cried out against such a thing. But Winter was coming and their home had to be secured. So he held his sister, and wished they didn't need to part again.
/
Daisy stared at the horse in front of her. "I may have miscalculated."
"Does Swiftfoot displease you, your Holiness?" Joran Fletcher asked nervously from where he was holding the animal's bridle.
She looked at the poor kid. He looked like he belonged on a high school football team, not here in armor off to go storm a castle. Still, the horse. "I'm sure Switfoot is a very nice horse." Daisy really had been stressed if she'd missed this obvious issue. "It's only I've never ridden one."
"Never?" Joran stared at her in disbelief.
Daisy scratched at the animal's nose, it really looked like a very nice horse. "The steeds I'm used to are made of metal and move a great deal faster than a horse is able to." She looked at the guard. "Should I ride with someone else for the first day 'till I'm used to it?"
"That would be…" His face went bright red.
She sighed, in other words inappropriate. "Right. Well, which side do I use to get on then?"
"The left, your Holiness." Joran's spine straightened.
Daisy gave a nod and stepped to the horse's left side. Grabbing onto the saddle with one hand, she slid her foot into the stir-up and swung herself easily up onto the saddle. She adjusted her position on the leather seat. Huh, somehow the horse was wider than she'd been expecting. And slightly higher. But she felt reasonably safe in her seat. At this height she'd easily be able to catch herself if she was thrown. "So how does one control the horse?" She looked down at Joran.
Joran was gaping at her with the look she was quickly learning meant she'd done something they considered vaguely divine. He opened and then shut his mouth. "You've truly never mounted a horse before?"
"No?" She petted the animal's neck. Six year old her who'd longed to just see a horse would die happy knowing her older self was going to ride one.
He gently handed her the reins he'd been holding for her. "Swiftfoot is a good horse, she'll do as you tell her with your legs. Just use the reins to gently guide the direction she should be going in. Keep the reins loose."
"How do I stop the horse? I have a feeling that bit is pretty important." Daisy's lips twitched up as she tried to put the poor kid at ease. Not that she was much older than him.
"To slow the horse, settle your weight into the seat and off the stirrups, lean back a little but keep your legs firm. You can then gently pull the reins back before releasing the tension. Keep in mind the reins are for direction not controlling." Joran stepped to a different horse and swung himself up into the saddle. He gently guided his animal besides hers. "Now for moving your horse, make sure you keep both of your feet placed in the stirrups."
Daisy glanced at her feet and adjusted them slightly. She had a feeling she was about to be holding most of her weight with her legs. Which joy, she was about to be thankful for all those hellish squats May had made her do. "Right, now what?"
"Sit deep in the saddle, you don't want to be tense, the horse'll know. Careful not to pull back on the reins at all. Then give Switfoot there a gentle squeeze with your lower legs. No need for kicking with Swiftfoot, she'll listen to gentle bumps. Just sit tall and straight, head up, keep your weight firmly on your heels." Joran showed her as he instructed, gently leading his horse in a slow circle of her.
Daisy gave a quick nod and gently squeezed her legs slightly. Time to learn, she had maybe twenty minutes before they were leaving for the road. But, well all of her training had been done on a miserably tight schedule. And she had super soldier serum in her veins now, which at the least better help with the sore muscles she was accepting were going to be her lot. Hopefully.
Daisy gently encouraged her poor horse abreast of Jon Snow's steed. She was painfully aware she looked like a sack of potatoes next to the other men. "Lord Snow."
"I'm not Lord of anything Ser, not anymore." Jon replied as he slowed his horse slightly.
She did her best to mimic the rising and falling motion the other riders were doing with the motion of their steeds. "I had some questions on the Wall and the Wildlings."
"I will answer what you wish to know." He was a solome man. Easy to read however with his restrained but heartfelt emotions. It was clear he didn't trust her and hated leaving his sister behind.
Daisy looked at him. "First, you look like you're marching to your own grave. Are you?"
"I hope not. Though if I die, I don't want to be brought back again." And ah, he did have a similar look to him as Coulson.
Daisy wondered at what magic they had in this realm. "Being brought back if you're gone too long it isn't something I've ever heard of going well."
"Do the gods often bring back the dead?" Jon asked, his face drawn.
"No." Daisy considered the several humans brought back from death. "I've met two humans brought back by gods, or something like a god. Both were used as vessels by whatever it was that brought them back. And Hive...there wasn't anything left."
"Oh." Jon looked forward. "It's not natural."
Daisy couldn't help agreeing. "It's not." She shifted slightly, sweet Jesus she was thankful for the serum at this moment, her thighs would be jelly right now without it. "So, what exactly is a Wildling?"
/
Jon found that for a god, Daisy was surprisingly curious. He hadn't been forced to talk so much in years. Not that she'd forced, she'd just been curious. It was no wonder the gods were no help if one of them knew less than nothing about the world of men. Though perhaps that was to be expected. He was silent now as he listened to her asking the men questions.
He couldn't fault her questions. But it was odd. She was clearly well spoken, educated, moved with a certain grace, intelligence. And yet she didn't know how to ride a horse? Of course she was picking it up fast. Only a day's ride and she was riding like perhaps a young person who'd been skipping some of their lessons. But to be there in just a day? And she hadn't slowed or shown any of the signs of distress new riders so often showed.
As they came up to a small clearing along their road, Jon pulled his horse up while signaling the men to halt. "We'll set up camp here." He swung himself from the saddle. Jon pulled his travel equipment. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Daisy easily swung her leg over her horse to get down. Only her other leg didn't catch the weight. Which was stupid, of course it hadn't. It was a common occurrence in new riders.
Jon stepped forward in panic, it'd be too late to catch her. Only, he didn't need to. She had barely slipped from the saddle when her hands shot towards the ground and she...floated for a second. The light snow and twigs below her were blown away by an invisible force. And then she landed on her feet with a laugh.
"Are you unhurt?" Jon found himself asking stupidly. It was clear she was fine.
Daisy adjusted the cloak that'd become somewhat twisted with her fall. "Fine." She was patting the side of her horse. With the easy motions of a soldier used to packing lightly, she untied and then pulled her travel pack off of the back of the horse.
Jon gave a slight nod. Well then. He shot a glare at the men. "Get to work, we'll need the camp set before nightfall."
As they sat around the fires their party ate their rations of dried meat and bread. It wasn't much, but they'd chosen to travel light. And at only a hundred men it wasn't a large party.
One of the men looked at Daisy and spoke with quiet reverence. "What are the other gods like?"
"Which ones?" Daisy looked at him, a faintly amused air to her. Which she'd taken traveling rations without comment or complaint. Jon had half expected he'd have to send the men to find something suitable from the inn two miles up the road.
The man flushed slightly at her full attention. "Well what about your sort. The old gods?"
"I'm not sure if I am one of your old gods. I could be, but it's not a title I've heard before." Daisy shrugged slightly, but then grinned before resting her hand on the ground. Her eyes closing.
At first nothing happened. But then the men made noises of shock. Jon realized it when the snow upon the ground began to melt. His eyes widened. Ripping his leather glove off he reached down and felt the earth. It was warm like a summer day. And the tickle, a faint tremble like the flutter of a bee's wing or the purr of a cat against his finger tips. He looked at Daisy expecting a sign such a feat had exhausted her.
Instead she just raised her hand, eyes opening easily. "I may not know if I'm one of your old gods. But I think I know who your Seven are. The Asguardians are ruled by Odin the All Father. Which I think makes him your Father from the Seven. I've never met him, but it's probably a good thing I haven't."
"Why?" Another of the men asked, his voice awed.
Her face was ever so cocky as she replied. "He sounds like a dick. His son Thor, your Warrior probably, is supes cool." She seemed to realize no one had understood the last bit. "Thor first came to the realm I call home several years back. He…."
Jon sat quietly besides Daisy, his mind still on the great battle she'd described between gods and men and monsters. He stared past the hot coals, into the dark night. "Do you ever get tired of the fighting?"
"Of course I do." Daisy pulled her cloak tighter around her. "But what's worth fighting for will always be worth it."
He thought of his sister, his black brothers, and every man, woman and child in the north. "I don't know how many men I've killed. But it never stops. I thought I could find Sansa and run."
"That's not who either of you are." Daisy looked at him, and she had an expression so similar to Ygritte when she knew something he didn't, only kinder. "I've been here a month, and there hasn't been a day Sansa wasn't organizing cleaning of the castle, repurposing of clothing, organizing watches, training hours in the yard, letters written and sent off with ravens, the maester, seeing to the repairing of your greenhouse."
Jon frowned slightly, but interrupted. "Greenhouse?"
"The giant glass building you have plants in. What do you call it?" Daisy looked at him curiously.
"Glasshouse." Jon replied.
She hummed. "Ah. Well what I mean is your sister is building something. And if you've been Lord Commander of something and only left after you died you're the same sort. That said vacation is a thing. You know, going to a place that's out of the way and just like sleeping in and reading or doing nothing for a few weeks. Please say it's a thing here?"
"It's a possibility for some." Jon wondered if small folk going to a tourney would count as a 'vacation'. But probably.
Daisy nodded. "You need one." She looked thoughtful. "You'll do no one any good if you burn out."
"There isn't time." Jon prodded the fire with a stick. "There never is."
She made a soft humming sound. "When you return to the castle I'll make sure you get at least a few days if you want them." Daisy frowned. "It never stops though. I doubt it will. I've always thought of it as...coding would make no sense to you. Like your beard I guess? You cut it, but it always grows back. So you keep cutting it. Does the fact it'll always grow back mean you're going to stop cutting it?"
"Killing isn't something so small." How small they must all be to her.
Daisy didn't disagree. "It isn't. But it won't stop, there will always be some new threat. I was fighting Chronicoms, gangsters and a weird planet of pimps." She clearly saw his confusion. "Immortal recorders of history, criminals, and the people who sell prostitutes. They also did a lot of gambling. But it doesn't really matter who or what they were. Because before that it was the Confederacy and Hydra, before the Kree and before that AIDA with the Framework and the Watchdogs. Before that it was ghosts, Hive, Lash, Hydra. Always Hydra. The ATCU, the Inhumans, traitors, Hydra, Centipede, Raina, my dad, Garrett, Ward, probably more I'm forgetting. And look at me now, I'm fighting a war for you and apparently there's ice zombies." She scoffed. "But it's what protectors do. They protect. And as long as who you aim to protect lives, it won't stop for long."
"And who do you protect?" Jon asked, though he felt a similar soul in this god. She didn't speak of what must be past foes defeated with pride, just exhausted finality.
The light flickered across her face. "I wanted to protect the world. But in the end I think I was just trying to save as many as I could while keeping the people I loved alive."
"How many worlds are there?" Because he'd gotten that from her. That the gods saw what he thought of as home as nothing more than some out of the way realm. Her curiosity and lack of knowledge simply affirmed that the gods didn't care for them.
Daisy sighed looking up at the stars. "An infinity of them. I'm not the one who'd know a better answer than that. Fitz will when he wakes."
"Is he your lover?" Jon asked cautiously. He doubted they were wed, she'd too easily accepted the title companion and laid no claim of the sort on him. But there was a focus and devotion there that was difficult to explain.
She laughed, turning towards him, eyes bright. "No, he's my friend." Daisy seemed to consider her words then. "Brother in arms? We've lived and fought together for years now."
"Oh." Jon wondered at that. But then wouldn't he have been the same for Sam or Pip? He'd like to think he would be. But fighting another's war, just for them, wasn't something he could say he'd do. "He's lucky to have you as a friend."
Daisy's face did...something. "He's done the same for me." She looked back at the fire.
"Then I hope he wakes." Jon stood then. "We should sleep, there is much land to cover in the morning."
She rose easily. "Thank you for the company then."
"You're sure you do not wish for a tent?" It still struck him as wrong to allow a woman to sleep on the ground the same as the men.
Daisy shook her head. "It's a clear night, and I've slept in worse places."
"As you wish." Jon gave a slight bow. He wasn't going to argue with a god over something as minor as that. Besides, he was beginning to understand she was a soldier. And it would be poor recompense for the conversation. He felt...calmer, less hopeless as he lowered himself on his bedroll. The ground was still too warm for the night or the season.
/
Daisy was...concerned as she saw the men riding with her along the road. They'd parted from Jon and his handful of men a few miles back. But it wasn't the absence of the man that bothered her. It was the looks of devotion the men gave her. From what she could tell there wasn't much in this place that could have challenged her before the serum. After it, well she probably was the closest to a god they'd ever meet. It was a good cover anyways. But it led to problems. Mainly what her removal from this world once Fitz was able to make them a portal out would do.
It hadn't been hard to pick up that the men who had been mostly loyal to their Lord. It was ingrained in them from birth. Their feelings about their Lord had been similar to an American's about their government. A very awful murdering psychopath of a Lord, still one they'd been raised to be loyal to their whole lives. Only now they'd been faced with their Lord and his most loyal facing 'divine' retribution. As if she'd have stood by and let more people be flayed alive. It had been rash, but Roose Bolton and his psychopath of a son had reminded her too much of Hydra for her to not act.
But it left the issue that these men, and the ones behind in Winterfell were for the most part loyal to her, not the Starks. Not that she was sure the Starks were good people. But they were better than the Boltons, and toppling a government and not helping establish a new one was a dick move. And from what little she'd seen, Sansa had the head and conviction to do it. But until Sansa had a force loyal to her it left everything a bit...awkward. And if these men decided to form some sort of cult army in her name...that wouldn't go well.
Daisy glanced at the men. She'd have to figure something out because she needed them to believe she was a god. But she didn't want to start some sort of religious cult. Hopefully Fitz had an idea of what to do because she was coming up blank. At least Jon seemed like a decent sort, depressing, but decent. It was nice to properly talk to someone.
"Your Holiness, do you believe we should send some men ahead to see if there is game ahead for dinner?" Joran asked. He'd apparently been chosen by the men as their liaison with her as they traveled.
Daisy ran through her newly developing mental medieval language filter. Game..animals to eat probably? Christ Jemma would be better at this shit. "Is that wise on this stretch of road?"
"Well we won't know what's up there till we take a look." Joran replied from his place in the saddle.
She considered that, and frankly not eating salted and dried meat for dinner would be nice. And she needed their belief in her being a god to be ironclad. Even if she still wasn't sure how to handle the inevitable issues with that. So she closed her eyes, letting herself focus entirely on the world around her. The vibrations of every subatomic vibration for miles around. It was too much information to process most of the time. But if she focused, only on the vibrations.
There was life teaming in these woods. Thousands of insects, birds, rabbits, squirrels. She could feel all of it. And then, just off the road to the right and down a small gully she could feel the heartbeat of a large animal. It wasn't a human, similar in size to a horse. Daisy reached out, focusing on the vibrations of the creature's bones, and particularly it's skull. She clenched her fist, and it's skull exploded into its brain. She felt it die, vibrations stilling but not all the way. Nothing was completely still.
Her eyes opened. "No need for anyone to ride ahead. We're alone for miles, but there's a deer or elk or something just down that gully."
"Right." Joran blinked, but he reached for his bow as he turned towards the gully.
Daisy sighed. "I killed it already, no need for the bow."
"Ah." Joran bowed as best he could in the saddle. And then rode down into the gully, two men breaking away from the group and following him.
She ignored the whispers of the men. Instead she focused on lowering and raising the temperature around her hand. It'd been something she'd been working on in space. The zepher's internal temperature control had broken early on in the hunt for Fitz. Which had left her with a time crunch and a stressed Jemma figuring out how to vibrate atoms faster for warmth and slower to cool that same air. Space had been very boring most of the time. Who knew Jemma had had so many ideas for her powers?
Daisy scratched at her horse's neck. It was bitter cold, but heating the air under her cloak helped. The men had noticed the air around her was warmer. She was surprised as a man she hadn't spoken to before rode forward slightly.
"Your Holiness." The man bowed his head.
She felt sad seeing him. He looked like another highschooler trying to grow out his first terrible attempt at a beard. "What's your name?"
"Erock Hogg your Holiness. I'm from a farm near the Dreadfort. If ya wanted to know about it." He offered nervously, his vibrations buzzing uncomfortably, heart beating slightly too fast.
Daisy smiled. "I would like that very much." And well, getting to know the men she had to convince she was a god while also preventing them from turning into a religious cult that would likely destabilize the entire region. So a typical SHIELD mission, at least the fate of the entire species wasn't at risk….well...there were the magic ice zombies.