Daisy adjusted the castle gauntlets on her arms. Her own were safely in her rooms. There was no point in risking them when these would work just as fine. Besides, she wasn't using her powers. "You can swing at me Joran."
"But you haven't a sword, your Holiness." The man protested.
She rolled her eyes. "I'm perfectly able to fight without a sword. Though I should probably figure out how to use one eventually. For now though, swing at me." Poor kid wouldn't be able to hurt her if he wanted to. He was clearly a fairly competent man but also with minimal experience and no focused training.
Finally! He moved, swinging weakly at her arm.
Daisy slapped the blade to one side with her palm. "Come on, you can do better than that. Again." And her voice was an order now.
Joren finally seemed to realize not trying to stab her was irritating her. He actually took a proper swing.
She flowed around the blade without touching it, grabbed his throat and slammed him to the ground as she hooked his ankle. "Better." Daisy held out her hand to the guy.
Joran took the hand. "How'd you do that?"
"Practice. Don't fully commit like that if your opponent isn't tied down." Daisy flicked her fingers, beckoning him forward.
He braced himself and then swung lower and towards her center of mass. She flicked her wrist knocking the blow away from her. Swinging forward she caught his wrist and punched him in the face. As he stumbled from it she hooked his ankle and yanked. He hit the ground.
There were appreciative 'oo's from the men. Daisy rolled her neck and beckoned another of the men forward. "Well come on then."
The man paled, but stepped forward. He gave a sharp cry and attacked with great arching swings.
Daisy easily side stepped three attacks before stepping into his guard. She kneed him in the gut before flipping him to the ground. "Next."
Daisy grinned at the two dozen very bruised men stuck with her in the yard. "Better, but you have to be defending while you're attacking. If I can get to you with my fists a person with a sword will have def stabbed you." She sighed, the guys hadn't realized how badly they'd done. They were clearly writing it off as obvious since she was a god.
Joren rubbed at his bruised jaw. "Should we practice against each other?"
"Yes, but first all of you against me at the same time. If I have to use my powers to escape injury you win." Daisy rolled her shoulders.
One of the boys glanced nervously at the others before speaking up. "What happens if we lose?"
"Endurance training." Daisy knew her grin looked slightly vicious. There wasn't the appropriate fear on the men's faces. Easy fix. "You run till you puke."
"Ah fuck that." One of the older guys grunted and then charged in.
Daisy laughed as she batted his sword away, slamming him face first into the dirt. As she moved she continued to pick the men's skills apart. Which were fairly abysmal really. Sure they were better than a bar drunk, and weapons and leather armor helped. But frankly they were clearly cannon fodder. Lined up shoulder to shoulder with some shields and they'd do some damage. But in an actual fight if their line got broken? They'd be sitting ducks.
She used her grip around one guy's head to swing herself around kicking two others, hard. As her feet hit the ground she rolled the guy she'd used to swing herself, over her shoulder and directly into a different opponent.
/
Sansa set her quill down and looked up at Bower. "Good you're here. I need you to prepare a riding party of three to ride to House Cerwyn's keep."
"M'lady? Surely we need more men to take a keep unless you mean for her Holiness to join us?" The man frowned slightly.
She raised a brow at the man. Her men questioned her actions far too freely. It would take time to earn their trust. "They bent the knee after Lord Cerwyn was flayed alive; nearly half their bannermen slaughtered and their stores and coffers hobbled. I'm not punishing them for that. This is a message for them that you are going to send personally by hand instead of by raven."
"Apologies m'Lady." He bowed and fled to see to her orders.
Sansa sighed, she was really going to have to replace the man. He would stay in the household but he wasn't competent in his current position. A problem for another day. She glanced up at the knock on her door. "Enter."
Wyman Manderly took up the whole doorway as he lumbered in. "Lady Stark, you asked to speak with me this morning?"
"I did, please." She waved to the chair before her desk in her solar. "Our trade with Essos, I wished to discuss tripling it at least."
His eyes widened. "An admirable goal, and one more possible with the new ships you've asked my men to build. A task I've already written to my son and asked him to begin."
"But?" Sansa had no interest in however long he intended to speak around his issue. She was tired of being spoken to like an idiot.
Wyman's eyes glinted as he looked at her. "It's expensive and building ships will take time."
"And I'll personally provide two and half million dragons for the purchase, transport of grains from Essos to Winterfell." She held his eye. "I've also written an order forgiving taxes for the coming winter should those funds be used for winter trade. In the amount equaling what is spent on purchasing food from other realms."
He groaned slightly as he leaned back in his seat. "That would ensure the food was purchased. But building ships takes time, as would finding and or training the men required for such work. Efforts that the approaching winter will slow even further. It's a good thought. And I might even have thoughts on speeding up your efforts to ensure we remain fed through winter. But perhaps you're being too ambitious to start, my Lady." He tipped his head respectfully.
Sansa pressed her fingers together so hard they turned white from it, under the table and out of sight of the tell at how frustrated she was. "I also intend to use another half million in gold dragons to purchase ships with crews from Essos for the work. I would welcome your ideas, but if we're not ambitious now we will starve later. Or do you think our people will thank us for our caution when the snows fall, the cold seeps in through even the warmest hearths and the food stores run out?"
"Peace, you've made your point." He seemed to consider her. "It could be done, but surely that would ruin your finances, even with the wealth you've no doubt acquired from your victory over the Boltons."
Sansa raised a brow. "The Iron Bank knows a sound investment. And debts can be repaid in summer. We have wood, land, and ore if we bothered to mine it. There is wealth to be found if we invest in our land. As your House can attest. But to reap that we must first survive."
"Well said." Wyman folded his hands in front of him, his face setting deeply. "My cousin Marlon, a Mormont or Umber and Lyessa Flint would make a fine delegation to the Iron Bank. They would also be well placed to begin purchasing the ships you intend to acquire, as well as establishing the trade relation we would need."
Sansa was unsurprised by his suggestion. "As I'm sure the Flint's of Widow's Watch would do as you bid, making them a reliable option for you."
"Lady Lyessa has a good head on her shoulders, and her boy is old enough she need not take the boy with her." Wyman didn't argue the advantage having a house that served him in all but name would bring.
She considered his proposition. "It has to be an Umber, there's only Lyanna Mormont left of that house save for the exiled Jorah." Sansa ran through what she knew of her Lords and their houses. "Barret Moss, he's third in line for the family and avoided my brother's war due to breaking his leg falling from his horse. But he's of a good age, Roose was planning to flay him alive, and would make a suitable leader of such an expedition. Don't you agree?"
"And of a noble house that owes mine own house nothing." He chuckled, but his face showed approval. "Well chosen, if he accepts your call."
She didn't waver. "I'm the Stark of Winterfell. And once news of what I intend to bring upon those houses who failed their oaths to mine, I doubt any will ignore the call."
"Smart." Wyman shifted slightly. "Now, let's see what we can do about ensuring our trade plan is one that will work."
Sansa's brow arched. "Our plan?"
"I would of course be honored to participate." His lips twitched.
She opened a drawer of her desk and pulled up the plan she'd worked out earlier. Some of the details would of course need to be adjusted. "I believe this would be an adequate start to 'our' plan."
"I believe it will." And Wyman was openly impressed now as he took the plan and began to read through it. "Very fine indeed."
/
Fitz stared at Daisy testing the movement of the sword some idiot had handed to her. "Is a s-sword really ne-necessary?"
"Uh, totally." Daisy winked at him before taking a swing for the wood and straw dummy.
He nearly jumped, he did yelp, as the sword went straight through the thing. "WHAT WAS THAT!"
"Serum." Daisy grinned manically as she checked the sword wasn't bent…
Fitz's mind filled with the numbers of how much force that would have required. The sword certainly hadn't been sharp enough, or Daisy a master of the art for that to have been in any way what was supposed to happen. The impressed, if very dirty and men running circles around the yard could attest to that. But then Daisy was strong, incredibly fit, which not as enhanced as Mike had been. But certainly more than what run of the mill steroids could do for a person. "W-w-well that's something." One hand ran through his hair.
"Exactly." Daisy began to adjust her usual stances as she got a feel for the sword. Bloody useless use of time, but it wasn't like there was much for her to do while the men ran.
So he spoke, he'd run out of what he could do without feedback from Jemma. His theory was if he talked at Daisy, she'd make a suitable replacement for a sounding board. It couldn't make his problems less immense anyways. "I b-believe I know how to a-ascertain if we're in an alternate r-reality."
"Jesus, already?" Daisy looked at him surprised.
Fitz groaned. "I have to b-b-build it first. But if I m-make a tesla coil I should be able to me-measure its interactions with e-electric lightning, phosphorescence, x-ray g-g-generation, high frequency a-alternating current phenomena, tra-transmission of electrical energy, and really just th-that alone would give us a b-baseline of the natural rules of this p-planet. If the v-variance from earth standard is too gr-great we know there's phenomena not s-supported by our universe."
"Right, makes perfect sense." There was sarcasm there. "How are you going to make the electricity to generate the thing though?"
He grimaced. "Well it's n-not like there's easy access to a r-river."
"I'm guessing potatoes like for those clocks is out?" Daisy shot a glare at one of the guys who was beginning to lag behind the others. "Jessar, PICK IT UP!"
Fitz noticed the general misery and exhaustion of the men. He didn't envy them one bit. Kinda genius to use physical ops training to weed out as many men as possible from the cult thing she was making though. Most people weren't made to make it through that kind of physical punishment. "I was th-thinking a peddle b-bike."
"If you made a few we could stick a few of the boys on them." Daisy gestured to the wheezing men. "It'd be good for them."
He perked up at that. "That could w-work. It's not a lot, but that'd g-get us rolling. And I've been l-looking into making b-batteries using some of the coins they have here. If I f-fix up the batteries I can store what they pr-produce. It wouldn't be a lot...but I can w-work with that."
"How are you going to get enough wire for a tesla coil?" Daisy suddenly paused. "I mean that's…"
Fitz blinked, hacker. Sometimes he forgot she'd know enough about this sort of thing to understand at least a bit of what he was doing. "A-a-a lot of work." He frowned. "I don't think you're s-supposed to swing that like a b-baseball bat."
"I was getting that feeling too." Daisy looked at her sword with a frown. "I've got no idea what I'm doing with the thing, and neither do these guys, clearly."
Fitz felt some pity for the idiots who definitely didn't have much longer in them. He cringed as one of them keeled over and started puking his guts out. "I think y-you broke one."
"You can stop!" Daisy barely finished the permission to stop before the men just dropped where they'd been staggering in an attempt to run. A small symphony of groans as they hit the ground. "Don't get too comfortable, we're stretching it out after you can breathe again." She turned her attention back to Fitz. "So how soon can you have those bikes and batteries ready?"
He rubbed at his chin. "A week m-maybe? Are there even g-going to be enough men wanting to keep training w-with you by then?"
"We'll manage." Daisy frowned slightly. "I'm nicer than May. A few of them will stick it out."
Fitz nodded, that was a fair point. He was quite used to the parade of misery that was whichever poor fucks were being trained by the Calvary for Strike teams. "Fair p-point."
/
Greatjon Umber drank deeply from his cup. He watched from the window as the charleton and witch who was masquerading as a god, ran some of the men through ridiculous actions in the yard. "What nonsense is that?"
"Is it harmful?" Sansa asked without blinking.
He scoffed. "It's useless."
"But not harmful." Sansa stared at him. "And she believes it's useful. What is it you plan to do now that you're free?"
Greatjon eyed the girl, but he wasn't ignorant of what her half brother was off doing for her. It was clear the girl would take the North. But could she hold it? He saw little to her that said she had the stomach to do it. "My uncle says he rides for us."
"Let us hope his quest to find my brother has been a success." She was every inch the perfect lady, even Lady Caitlyn would have looked like a girl playing the role besides her daughter. It was whether that poise covered a southern soul or a northern one that worried him.
He eyed her. "Ya don't need that forgein witch. She'll take you the same way Stannis's red witch did."
"It's possible." Sansa allowed. "However I have given her my word and I will not break that so easily. Besides, I have her watched and she seems disinclined towards burning innocents and guilty alike to power dark magic."
Umber rubbed his beard, disgust in him at that. "Spies?"
"A necessary evil, and one my brother and father lacked to their detriment. Or do you disagree despite what you've suffered?" She raised a brow staring at him like one would look at a small child that'd made a fool mistake.
His shoulders tightened at the challenge and rebuke. "Your father and brother had honor."
"And they died for it." There was an edge of emotion there. She cared. "And honor is good, but it wasn't honor that forged the Winter Kingdom. Do you think it was honor that led my ancestors to killing House Frost to the last man, woman and child? Or House Greystark of our own blood? We've wiped out full houses before. And I'll have done it at least once more before winter truly comes."
His eyes widened as he looked at the girl again. She spoke of eradication without a single hair out of place, not a crack to her voice. And there was only one House that she could mean to destroy. Especially if she thought to mention House Greystark. "You mean to end House Karstark."
"They turned on our men at the Red Wedding. Or those few men who had not already left their King did. I will not tolerate such betrayal from a House bound by blood." And in that moment there was the same edge to her that had been there to Robb. A certain viciousness, a predatory air that led to so many of the Starks being called wolves.
Umber felt a deep satisfaction. "Aye, fuck the traitors." He set his cup down with a thud. "I'll see you have House Umber's men and steel for fucking them."
"Good, your aid will not be forgotten." And there might be more north in the girl's bones than he'd given her credit for. "You've read your uncle's message to you. Do you believe the prize he speaks of is my brother Rickon?"
Umber crossed his arms. "Mayhaps. But hard to tell. Mors never was much good at words or hiding his meaning."
"I remember him from when I was a child." Her lips curled ever so slightly. "He certainly was memorable." She fell serious. "We can only hope."
He considered the girl, the south was full of ambitions. "You won't be Lady of Winterfell if your brother lives."
"He's my brother." Her voice was sharp, daring him to question her.
He did anyway. "You're Stark in Winterfell with him not there."
"I would rather my family than power." If looks could kill he'd be dead. The great white wolf that'd silently been sleeping by the fire looked at him, its lips pulling up showing its teeth.
Greatjon held up his hands in surrender, he'd rather not lose more fingers. "Suppose it's not an important worry for now."
"Indeed, Rickon is one and ten if he still lives." Sansa didn't soften so much as the danger from her seemed to pass.
He considered it, the girl might make a proper regent till Ned's youngest was old enough to be Lord in his own right. "So what's with this news of you sending gold and men to Essos?"
"The Long Night is coming, we'll require food, Lord Umber. More food than is left in all of the North after the bloody summer we've survived. Any trade with the south for it will place us in chains." Sansa hadn't flinched from him once, and he wasn't a small or calm man. "You'd do well to follow my example if you mean for your family and those dependent on you to survive what is coming."
Her words were wise. And he'd rather starve than beg the southern cunts for aid. "You've got the right of it."
"I was raised to be a Queen." She lifted her cloak, pulling it over her shoulders. "Being a Lady of a House Paramont is not so different."
Greatjon frowned. "You mean to bend the knee to that Lannister boy?" His voice was dark at the thought of that humiliation.
She was unreadable as she stood there, prepared to leave the room, likely to see to the repairs of her ancestral home. "For the North and for my family there is nothing I would not do, Lord Umber. And we cannot fight six realms of men and the Long Night. One war at a time."
"You're that certain your Jon Snow speaks true?" Greatjon remembered the letter from the Night's Watch that Robb Stark had received. The increase in wildling attacks. And he was a northerner and of the blood of the first men. He believed her despite himself, gods damn it.
Sansa's chin tipped slightly upwards. "Jon Stark, and I do."
"I still think ya should chuck that witch out into the snow on her arse." He grumbled. And he still meant to see if the girl would follow her words with actions. Speaking like a northern, a fancy one trained in the south but a northerner all the same was one thing. But her actions would show the truth of her mettle.