Daisy stood by the face tree of the weirwood. The vibrations here were strange, a low song creeping through the roots. It made sense something of the kind would be what had pulled Fitz and her into this reality. She had no interest in having to quake her way out of a tree again. It hadn't been pleasant. And the sap had taken days to get out of her hair. The panic of not being able to breathe had been the worst though.
But standing here, it felt...cleaner than it did inside the Dreadfort. She never wanted to step foot inside that castle again. The smoky torches were held up by human arms mounted to the walls. Sure those arms were nothing but bone, but it was disturbing. Especially the scale of how many human arms there were. That wasn't even getting into the flayed and preserved skin. She had suspicions about what sort of leather was used for some of the chairs. The week it had taken to loot this place to the ground had been exhausting.
"Your Holiness?" Joran asked cautiously, the deep reverence in his tone that had begun around the time she'd frozen the tenth man who'd blatantly lied to her.
She looked away from the tree's gaping mouth, leaking red. "Yes?"
"The loot train is prepared, and the prisoners are gathered." Joran bowed at her attention.
Daisy sighed. "And the people of the village?"
"A little over half your Holiness." Joran replied. He hesitated slightly, but then continued. "I believe given some time more may choose to leave. Until then they are willing to protect what goods we are unable to carry with us. But with no Lord here it's not...well not dependable rightly."
She stepped forward and set her hand on his shoulder. "Well done." Daisy eyed the poor guy who'd stepped up as her second in all of this. "Let's leave." She squeezed his shoulder and then walked past him towards the castle.
It wasn't a long walk from the gods' wood through the Dreadfort, out into the courtyard and from there to the road beyond. But it felt long. She felt like the ugliness of the place stuck to her. Daisy took in the loot train. It was full of wagons and carts. Five hundred fifty two men at arms now sworn to House Stark and returning to Winterfell with them. But after the animals, the villagers, and laden carts...it was a massive undertaking. That said the villagers had been pleased to loot the Dreadfort to their hearts' content.
Daisy waved Korb over. "Take the prisoners to the Wall. Keep a guard rotation on them."
"I got it ya Holiness." Korb straightened, pleased at the acknowledgement. "It'll take a smith to get 'em out of the chains."
Daisy had insisted on that. The men being sent to the Wall were scum. "Be careful, I expect you to survive Korb."
"Course ya Holiness." He bowed as deep as he could, before turning and beginning to shout, getting the men destined for the Wall moving.
Daisy pulled her gauntlets out of the saddle bag of her horse. "Joran, get Fischer to start moving the train. They need to be further off so I don't harm anyone when I bring down the castle." She turned to face the Dreadfort and closed her eyes, focusing on the ground. The faults, the stone of the foundation. Every crack and weak point in the walls of the Dreadfort. It was strong, it would have stood for god knows how long if she hadn't of been there. But she was sickened by the place.
The sounds, smells, and vibrations of the carts began to move further off. Daisy waited and then she let her powers crack the earth.
/
Sansa lowered her sewing as the door of her solar opened. "Bower, thank you for coming."
"M'Lady." He shuffled slightly, poor man. She needed a more senior and experienced man to take his place as Master of Arms. But for now he was the best option she had.
She gestured at the chair across from her. "I'm going to be blunt. We need a party of fifty men in Bolton colours to ride out to rendezvous with a prisoner from the Twins."
"We've all sworn to House Stark. To you?" Bower spluttered in shock.
Sansa disliked this plan herself, but it was necessary. "You have, but the Freys don't know that yet. I wrote under Lord Bolton's name requesting the transfer of their prisoner Lord Umber. I received word from the Freys today. They have agreed and will be moving him with a large party here to Winterfell."
"M'Lady, we don't have the men. Not with how many we sent to your brother." He curled inwards, likely a trained response to saying 'no' to a person above him.
Sansa bit the inside of her cheek. She'd expected that answer, the Freys had responded too soon. "Very well, thank you for your honesty. I will find another way to secure Lord Umber's rescue." Though she didn't know how.
Sansa nearly lept out of her skin at the sight of someone in her room. She only failed to scream due to the terror stealing the air from her lungs. One hand pressed to her chest as she recognized the person leaning against the wall by the window. "Daisy."
"Sup." Daisy raised a hand, she frowned. "Are you ok? I didn't mean to startle you that badly."
She touched the wall. "How did you get here?"
"I can sorta fly." Daisy held out a scroll of parchment. "I brought a list of what we looted out of the Dreadfort. Which, the local peasants were very enthusiastic about stealing everything they could carry."
She blinked, but nodded, moving to the table with wine on it. "It's done?"
"Yup." Daisy moved forward and poured wine into Sansa's cup. "But I assumed you'd want news of what happened before everyone just shows up here."
Sansa accepted the drink. "Thank you, that will certainly be useful." She paused. "Do you have fifty men you can spare?"
"I can spare that many. I picked up quite a few new men. Although that is a problem I may have caused faster than I was expecting it." Daisy's face twitched. "Their loyalty is focused on me."
Sansa felt a shiver down her spine at that. She knew exactly how dangerous it was for the loyalty of men to fall away from House Stark. But a problem she had already been aware of. "Why faster?"
"The men at the Dreadfort weren't conveniently willing to rush to their deaths if they were truly loyal to the Boltons." Daisy showed open disgust. "The torches in their castle were held by human arms. Horrible doesn't go far enough to describe it."
She took a seat, nauseous at the reminder of the truth of the Boltons. "My ancestors should have killed them all."
"You're not wrong." Daisy crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. "The men left at the castle were more loyal than the ones here. Or maybe less afraid. So I was forced to ensure there was no doubt that I was a god." She looked at Sansa steadily. "I may not be one of your old or new gods but I am inhuman."
Sansa frowned slightly at that term, 'inhuman'. It wasn't the first time Daisy had said it. And she was beginning to think it was important. "If I may, what did you do?"
"I brought the gate down, turned a lot of arrows into splinters, froze every man who tried to kill me or who lied when swearing loyalty to House Stark, and I might have made the earth shake with my footsteps." Daisy winced. "And instead of just shattering the Dreadfort I had the earth kinda swallow it?"
Sansa took a long drink of her wine. That was horrifying, and the god was clearly capable of finding access to her chambers without alerting anyone in all of Winterfell. And did all of this with only being partially aware of how terrifying that was. If the stakes hadn't already been everything hanging in the balance, Sansa imagined the thought of the danger this god presented would have left her shaking. Instead she used her wine to steady herself. "I see, their loyalty is entirely to you then?"
"I'm pretty sure." She pushed off from the wall and took the seat by the fire. "I've never had worshippers before. It's...weird."
Sansa considered the issue, it could become a plague destroying any hold of power she meant to hold. She would not rule dependent on the benevolence of a god. "Then a religious order in your name will need to be founded. It will mark out the truly zealous."
"Forming a religious cult sounds like a terrible idea." Daisy looked at her in confusion. "I've never heard of a cult being a good thing."
Sansa tapped her finger against her cup. "I've begun the repair of the Broken Tower. Half of it could be turned into the barracks for men sworn to your order."
Daisy frowned, though she wasn't protesting. "A structured religious military order. We could make that work, but it could go very badly once I'm not here."
"It could." Sansa knew enough history to know how dangerous religious orders could be. A simple look at the fate of Stannis Baratheon was more than enough for that warning. She looked at Daisy. "What do you consider sins?"
Daisy huffed in amusement but then shrugged. "I don't care about 'sin'." She raised both hands and did an odd motion with her fingers as she said the word 'sin'. "But that doesn't mean I can stand around when evil shit is happening. I mean the Boltons were flaying people. Also feeding peasants to their dogs. It was sick."
"You're a soldier." Sansa wondered at that. It made some sense, if Daisy was a minor earth or war god it could explain her dislike at being even considered a god. If she was aware of more powerful beings she did not wish to insult. "I would ask you to at least warn me of any actions you find objectionable before punishing anyone for committing them."
Daisy nodded. "I doubt anything I find objectionable you won't." She brushed some of her hair behind one ear. "So what's this about sending fifty men somewhere? And should I go with them?"
"It would probably be best if you don't accompany them. No true party of Bolton's would hold a woman, especially not one of your looks amongst them." Sansa was beginning to think so long as she didn't lie to the god that the god's ire was not easily raised. Which was fortunate considering what she was asking. "But I need them to go, looking like Bolton men, acting like Bolton men."
Daisy didn't act horrified at the possibility of duplicity. "I can send Joran, the men would follow him. But where are they going and what do you need them to do?"
"A rescue mission of one of my family's loyal Lords." Sansa looked away from the god then, she needed to if she meant to avoid crying in front of the woman. "They call it the Red Wedding. My brother Robb, the first King of the North since the King who Knelt, The Young Wolf. He was at the wedding of our uncle Edemure Tully to a daughter of Walder Frey. The Freys and the Boltons killed him, his wife, our mother, and nearly the entire Northern host. Lord Umber, though he is called the Greatjon, was captured and has been held by the Freys ever since."
Daisy made a soft sound. "I'm sorry, I'd heard of it from the men. You don't need to explain more of it if you don't want to."
"Ah." Sansa straightened her skirts. "I wrote a letter using the former Lord Bolton's seal and as close to his hand as I could copy. It requested a party of Freys to bring the Greatjon to Winterfell, so that the man could be a more present reminder of why House Umber need follow House Bolton. I received a letter from Walder, he has sent a party of sixty Frey men to escort the prisoner here to Winterfell. If a party of Bolton men were to take hold of the prisoner and bring him here, he would be safe. I could return him to his house and family. It may be a lie and murmur's show but it is the only choice apart from mounting a siege of the Twins."
"Smart plan." Daisy replied without an ounce of judgment. "You intend to just take the prisoner and ride off, no violence or fighting. Definitely a smart choice considering everything. We have a few Bolton banners and shit we were using to cover up and secure the boxes. If you send me with a map and direction of where and when to meet the Freys I can send some men to handle it."
Sansa's eyes snapped sharply towards the god. "You're not against the deception?"
"Spy, assassin." Daisy gestured to herself. "You say soldier but I'm not that kind of agent. It's a good plan, and you're clearly doing what is needed to protect your people. I'll speak with the men and make sure they can pass as loyal and pull this off."
"Oh." Sansa had half expected to be forced to beg for mercy or forgiveness for her plan. It was confusing, this wasn't how she'd expected a god to behave. Not that she'd imagined meeting a god in person even at her silliest. "Will you be here often, or will you come with the loot train?"
Daisy looked thoughtful. "According to Wilbur and Joran the journey will take at least another week. It's helped I can get the carts that get stuck out of the holes without needing to slow the whole party. Do you need me to come and check in between now and our arrival?"
"If something changes or you are delayed." Sansa decided. She looked at the other woman. "Should I have a bed prepared for you?"
Daisy shook her head. "No, it's best that the men don't realize I left them."
"Then I have letters to write and a map to make for you." Sansa stood and moved to the desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper.
Daisy's voice was quieter then. "Fitz, has anything changed with him?"
"Maester Wolkan insists that he will wake when he wakes. That his heart, lungs and color are good." Sansa saw the affection on the god's face. The concern. "It's as sure as it can be that he will survive."
Daisy seemed to settle slightly. "Thank you."
"He means a great deal to you. I cannot think of many friends who would be as dedicated as you are to him." She picked up her quill and began to write out the letter in Roose's hand. It would hopefully ensure Lord Umber was passed peacefully over.
"If he wakes before I get back he'll be distrustful of you. Tell him...when he lived on the bus his bunk was between Skye and Jemma's. Also it's probably a good thing he never got to show his equipment to Skye. That should ensure he listens when you tell him he came through the portal with Daisy and that I'll be back soon." Daisy paused. "And Jemma is safe but didn't come through with us. He'll do something dumb if he thinks Jemma is here and in danger."
Sansa looked up at the other woman. "Is he dangerous like you?"
"No, he's human. I think that's why it hurt him to come through." Daisy seemed to consider the possible risk her companion could present. "He's capable of killing to escape if he thinks it's necessary. He may not be a fighter, but he's the smartest man I've ever met. Locking him up anywhere won't keep him in place long. But if he knows you're an ally, I'll be back and Jemma is safe, he should be peaceful."
Sansa breathed out slowly while considering that. "Would you consider writing a letter for him?"
"That would work." Daisy hopped up and walked over and looked at the quill. "This is not going to look great. The quill thing is uh...let's call it new. Or really really old."
Sansa set a piece of parchment on the desk in front of the god. "If you wish to practice there is time."
"Naw, he'd be weirded out if my handwriting wasn't horrible." She had an amused grin on her face as she picked up a quill. "My handwriting has never been particularly good. Perils of being a hacker."
Sansa had questions about what 'hacker' was. But wanted to be able to sleep with only minimal nightmares. So she simply continued with her work.
/
Daisy's nose was very cold as she woke up. She squeezed her eyes shut. The North really sucked. Also who named a country after a direction on the compass? Who did that!? And how was this snowy hellscape not currently in the middle of winter? She could hear the sounds of other people waking up. It made it worse knowing they'd actually wait on her if she failed to crawl out of her sleeping roll. She sighed and opened her eyes.
The sky was clear and blue, air freakishly cold, and it smelled weirdly of nature and horse shit. Though perhaps not weirdly. Mornings traveling through nature by horseback were oddly routine she mused as she pulled her outer tunic over her shirt. And then immediately wrapped her cloak around her, using her powers to heat up the air around her. She was a California girl, sorta. Her bedroll needed to only be rolled up and set with her gear, and she was off to one of the small fires for porridge.
She purposely ignored the looks of awe, and bowed heads. This was ridiculous...and she was going to have to form a cult. Fun. So much sarcasm. "Morning." She sat down on the ground by the fire.
"Your Holiness." Wilbur Thatcher uttered as he passed her a bowl of porridge. If it had fruit in it the others lacked, well it was as close to the same rations as everyone as the men could be forced to give. They were getting sneaky about trying to treat her as a god.
Daisy pointedly ignored the fruit in her bowl, and simply ate it without comment. It wasn't worth chastising anyone over. She was C3PO with the ewoks...wasn't that bizarre. Only her ewoks were actual people who instead of adorable little bear creatures were citizens of a medieval hellscape. So there was that. "Thatcher, when you're done if you'd fetch Joran and Tallman."
"I ken do it right now if ya want Holiness." Thatcher offered eagerly, ready to leap to his feet.
She shook her head. "There's time for you to finish your breakfast." Daisy nearly groaned as a baby started screaming. It'd been crying off and on all night. She was fairly sure half the camp was sick of it. She saw the pinched looks on men's faces. That was not going to go well.
Daisy stood up, setting aside her food and strode straight for the mother holding the screaming child. She noticed the mother was young, likely her first kid and clearly panicked and exhausted as she tried to calm the kid. "May I?"
The woman's face went horribly pale, reflexively holding her kid closer to her chest. She shook slightly, the screams of the baby getting louder somehow. And then hesitantly she held out her baby.
Daisy scooped the baby with easy motion. Foster care and the orphanage had given her enough experience to help with a baby. And there was nothing she could do besides not harm the baby to calm the woman's fears. And she was exhausted enough to not bother with the slower route. So she just cradled the baby. A gentle hand on it's back and she felt for any injuries with it's vibrations. A quick check showed that it's cloth diaper was empty.
She gently moved with the kid. The baby was cold, the blankets couldn't possibly be enough for the tiny thing. Which was easily fixed. Daisy warmed the air around the baby as she pulled her own cloak off and bundled the kid with practiced motions. Then cocooned in warmth, in secure arms the baby finally stopped crying. Daisy looked at the mother who was staring wide eyed at her. "What's its name?"
"I haven't named him yet ya' Holiness." The woman gave a curtsy.
Daisy rocked slightly, soothing the baby to sleep. "Well he was cold, he's too little to stay warm on his own. I'll keep him so you have a chance to eat and prepare for the day. When you're done, come to the fire and retrieve him." She turned and walked back to the fire. Sitting back down she picked up her bowl and continued eating, this time with a tiny baby cradled in the crook of her arm.
"Do you require a new cloak ya' Holiness?" Thatcher asked carefully.
She sighed. "Yeah, I don't think any of us want to be kept up all night again if this little guy isn't warm enough."
"As ya say." Thatcher bowed his head, and then climbed to his feet leaving her behind and he went to find said cloak, and probably the men she'd requested he find earlier.
She'd just finished her breakfast when Thatcher returned with a cloak in his arms, and Joran and Tallman behind him. "Ah, good. There's been a change in plans."
"Your Holiness?" Joran asked carefully as he took the seat across from her.
Daisy set her bowl aside. "I spoke with Lady Stark last night."
The men stared at her in slight confusion but none of them interrupted her.
She pulled out the letter she'd taken with her, as well as the map. "We'll need to send a party down the King's road to meet with a party of Freys. I was thinking you would be suited to such a thing, Joran?"
Daisy passed the baby back to it's mother. "If you don't have what you need to keep him warm just ask."
"Your Holiness." The woman clutched her child to her as she curtsied deeply. Her eyes flicked up to about her mouth before back down.
Daisy sighed. "Did you want to ask something?"
"Is there a name that would please you? For him." The woman looked like it'd cost her a lot to risk asking it.
She blinked, huh. Well. "You want me to name your kid?"
The woman nodded, seeming to flinch back at her own daring in asking.
Daisy reached out and touched the little baby's cheek. "Philip is a good name, if you want it."
"Thank you, ya' Holiness."