Fitz trimmed the leather belt he was being forced to use for generating power. He was being slightly more careful now. The number of times he'd stabbed himself with wire had left him slightly wary as he used a sharp knife to trim the belt. Just making his own tools was ridiculous, abhorrent he was having to work under these conditions. He carefully stopped and measured the width.
"Does the exact width matter that much?" Daisy asked from where she was sitting on his work table and twisting the wires as instructed. Her enhanced strength was proving useful.
He glared at her, missing the scandalized expression on his assistant's face. "I'm s-sorry, who's got a doctorate here?"
"Fine." Daisy shrugged as she continued her work. "I still think you're maybe going a little crazy for what's legit small potatoes shit that's cobbled together."
Fitz's jaw ticked. "Were you always this a-annoying?"
"It's a gift." Daisy winked. "Also did no one read you the story of the rabbit and the turtle or whatever?"
His spine straightened. "I'm n-not going to build an LMD. Not like I c-could anyways."
"Uh, not the concern." Daisy pulled her legs up under her, folding them easily as she stayed sitting on the table. "But I'm concerned now."
The assistant Snow spoke up cautiously. "Wha's an LMD?"
"A…" Fitz wasn't sure how to even begin to explain that to some poor peasant from the dark ages. Did the kid even know what a machine was? He looked at Daisy in confusion.
Daisy sighed. "A person made of metal with a coating of a skin that leaves them appearing human. They're all destroyed."
"Not my f-finest moment." Fitz stared at his hands. There'd been so much promise with that project. But he couldn't even think of trying to recover something usable without feeling sick at the thought. Not that anyone would let him. Maybe if he was in a proper lab, if Jemma was there to make sure it didn't go out of control.
Snow's eyes widened. "You made...people?"
"Evil ones that had to be put down." Daisy clarified.
He shifted. "They w-weren't inherently evil. I mean AIDA was…"
"Uh she was the worst. And you don't get to judge. I got stabbed and shot, twice! Also the torture. Not a good idea nerd."
He dropped his hands onto his hips. "She was a ch-child, she didn't know any b-better and considering how violent of a w-world we dropped her in she was surprisingly stable."
"You know that makes it creepier that you like got it on with her. And again she created hundreds of copies to murder us." Daisy had her 'you're stupid' voice on.
Fitz huffed. "Well at least I didn't fuck a vengeance demon."
"Who was an adult, and didn't try to kill us or conquer the world!"
He crossed his arms. "Ward and Miles."
"Rude." Her face scrunched up. "And not fair. Ward turned out to be a traitorous asshole before we got together. Also Svetlana is alive, reasonably well adjusted and not a dick."
He blinked. "Who?"
"My ex, hot Russian hacker, that's the reason I know a bit of Russian. Does no one listen when I throw stuff out there? It came up on that awful mission where Bobbie and Hunter got caught." Daisy spread her hands in the universal gesture of 'keep up'.
Fitz tilted his head. "Maybe stick to girls for a bit then? It might be safer for just everyone."
"Why in the world does Robbie bother you?" Daisy tilted her head.
He wanted to scream that she'd left them, hadn't wanted them, that everything that had gone wrong had started when she left. That she'd reached out to some murderous nobody and not the team. But the words just...didn't come out. Instead he was rather snide. "Oh I don't know, m-maybe the bit where he drags p-people to hell? Or maybe the fact he's on f-fire!"
"Only some of the time." Daisy shrugged. "And again not a person I made. You had some Pygmalion thing going on there."
Fitzed huffed. "T-that's not fair." He paused. "Wait, d-did you say Pygmalion? What's that?"
"Oh burn! Something the Doctor doesn't know." Daisy grinned. "But seriously greek myth? Nothing in that big brain of yours?"
He uncrossed his arms, dropping them to his hips again. "Fine, I m-may have skipped some of the classics for e-extra theoretical physics w-work." He couldn't help how he softened as they fell from whatever the near fight of snapping they'd been in back to familiar ground. "So what's a P-pygmalion then?"
/
Sansa waved the bread and salt forward. "Lord Cerwyn, you are always most welcome in Winterfell."
Cley Cerwyn was a haunted man. Only a few years her senior. He twitched, shoulders curled inwards, eyes shifting about at every person nearby. He wore his wounded spirit visibly. But then his was near as fresh as her own horrors. "No need for a room, My Lady." He bowed his head slightly as he took the bread and salt, eating it hurriedly. Barely chewed it really.
"Of course, though what hospitality I am able to provide is yours should you change your mind." Sansa gestured for him to enter the gates. He'd refused to do so without bread and salt. "At least allow us to provide some warm soup to you and your men."
He nodded, and followed her through the gates and into the courtyard. His eyes naturally tracked to where the flayed corpses of the Bolton's victims had once hung.
"I'm sorry all I could return to you were their bodies." Sansa didn't mention the last she'd seen him, he had been there to witness her marriage to Ramsey. Not that he'd had any choice in the matter.
Cerwyn cleared his throat. "I'd have come sooner."
"You don't owe me an explanation." She caught his eye. "We both know what it meant to suffer under their mercy."
He ducked his head again.
Sansa accepted it would be a silent walk into her solar before she'd hear why he'd come unexpectedly. It was good to walk through the yard, to see people going about their tasks. The smell of fresh cut wood, the burning of the smithy, clean straw. Her home was clean, rebuilding, full of life and it was heartening. To know she'd built this, done this.
As they entered the hall Cerwyn paused. The stone blocking the noise from outside. "I don't plan to be here long. Just a few words with you and I'll go."
"Of course." She could tell this would not be going in a way that would be advantageous to her or her plans. However the late Lord Cerwyn, his wife and brother had all been flayed alive for their loyalty to House Stark. For that she would not turn on him unless she had no other option.
The remaining journey to her solar was silent. Once the door closed leaving them, Brienne and a servant who was tending to the fire he finally spoke.
"I received your reward, as well as promise of more. I don't want it." He shifted awkwardly, but his tone hadn't been doubtful.
Sansa folded her hands before her. "Winter is on our doorstep as well as war. Your House remained loyal when few others did."
"I know that." He looked up. "But we have enough to keep us. And I don't have an army to give you, or men enough to rule any added land you intend to give me." Cerwyn looked at the floor. "I did nothing. It was my father who was loyal."
Sansa felt a flicker of understanding then. Guilt. "You did what you had to do in order to survive."
"It doesn't change...It wouldn't be honorable to accept." He settled on after a painful pause.
She knew what he was then. A boy who wished to live up to the shadow of a father who'd cast a perfect appearing shadow, especially once venerated by death. And beyond that someone terrified and ashamed by what that terror had forced him to do. Of course that meant she knew how to offer what he truly wanted. Honor, pride, revenge. "Then earn it."
"What?" He didn't flinch at her change in tone, but it was a near thing.
Sansa didn't allow herself to show the slightest flicker of weakness. "You believe your father's legacy shouldn't be rewarded for his sacrifice, honor and loyalty. So prove you're worthy of what he died for. He died for House Stark, so you can live for it."
"I…" His eyes were wide as he stared at her.
But she'd already won. "You say you have no army, but I don't need an army most of all. I need loyal men." Sansa refused to release him from her attention. "I'm surrounded by Houses that bowed, men who once served my enemies without paying a blood price first. The North is fractured, the South will not leave us long and my brother Jon brings tidings of the Long Night come again. Tell me Lord Cerwyn, where would your father who died in my family's name expect you to be?"
"I can't protect you." He was shaken though. Only needed to be guided by the hand to the place she needed him.
So Sansa gave him the purpose he required. "Your name. The presence of a loyal Lord who I can depend on." She'd never trust him, not when she knew how easily his dreams of honor could be twisted. "A House's banner at my back when I ride to rid our lands of traitors who allowed the North to fall. Allowed our families to be killed. A Cerwyn standing behind a Stark as there has always been for thousands of years."
Sansa wondered if she should feel guilt for what she'd just done? She didn't though. Her father would, her mother likely too. But it'd been necessary and now Lord Cerwyn was praying at the gods wood while his men settled into the rooms she'd ordered prepared. "Will you be returning to White Harbor Lord Manderly?"
"Not unless you wish me to." Wyman laid his hand over hers. "I failed you, I failed your family. I won't do it again. I'll remain by your side till your position is secure M'Lady. My son can see to White Harbor till then. It'll be good for him."
She eyed the large man, his white hair and familier countenance. She gave a slight nod. "Your aid is appreciated. And will not be forgot."
"Aye, well I don't need anything so don't go getting any ideas there." He chuckled fondly. "Now about Moat Cailin and the two houses here, what's the plan?"
Sansa considered him. She didn't trust him. But he was likely her strongest ally at the moment. He'd thrown his lot in with her as well as he could without proposing a marriage alliance. One neither of them had individuals of appropriate ages to form in the first place. "Jon is needed for that conversation." She raised a brow. "Why haven't you brought up a marriage alliance? It's the easiest and fastest way to secure my position. But you haven't suggested it."
"No I haven't." Wyman settled back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. "Do you need to know why?"
He was her closest and greatest support. "Yes I do."
"At first because of the bastard. No one deserves whatever he did to you and throwing a third husband at you just a couple of moons afterwards is cruel." He gave a nod as he spoke, his brow furrowed. "And then who would I suggest? You'll have the Flints, Hornwoods, Umbers, Loches, Manderlys, Glovers, Hornwoods, Reeds, and a half dozen more just by right of your name and what you've done so far. I reckon given a few more moons you'll have a dozen more firmly in your grasp. And that's before they all realize the Long Night is coming. Which House requires a marriage on top of all that to swear? None of them that's which one."
Wyman looked at her with something that might be pride. "A good strong man who can lead beside you is who you need if you're to marry. Not some political hostage exchange for stability. Thought I'd wait to see which noble lad proves himself in the coming moons. But then, I'd say you have a suitor not even a proper match like that would be worth turning down for."
"I don't have a suitor. What are you talking about?" She frowned slightly. There was nearly no way that he could know of Petyr's obsession.
He was serious as he replied. "I know you've noticed, especially with how much time you spent down south. There are very few reasons a god would act the way that one does. I can believe she'd accept your hospitality for her companion's sake. I can even be persuaded she'd find giving you some aid on a whim. But bowing to you? Placing your wants and goals above her own dignity? Performing feats of service in your name? That's not something I can believe unless she's come to regard you quite highly. And high regard only goes so far unless she intends to earn something with that regard."
"That does not mean she means to court me." Sansa replied, possibly too quickly. She just… gods she couldn't.
Wyman spoke, his voice gentle. "Perhaps court is the wrong word? She hadn't made it a secret she doesn't intend to remain here. Woo? Seduce maybe? But either way she's got eyes for you."
"She's made no mention of it, made no advances or indication that's something she wants." Which was why Sansa hadn't assumed. Daisy was...surprisingly upfront about things. Surely she would be about something of this nature as well?
He nodded. "Maybe you're right. But if you are that leaves the question, why does she defer to you like nothing more than a sworn knight?"
"I don't know. But I believe you are mistaken in this matter." Sasa desperately hoped he was. If he wasn't...she couldn't do it. The idea of giving her body to someone again like that made her feel nauseous. She knew she'd have to marry someday, but not now. Not...soon. So long as it was avoidable she intended to avoid it.
Wyman deferred, but she could see he didn't agree. "As you wish my Lady."
Sansa rose brushing her skirts straight automatically. "I appreciate your council. It does not leave this room however?"
"I wouldn't dream of it, My Lady." He hesitated for a second. "You have my support regardless of the truth or your response to the matter."
She blinked, he'd just offered to stand by her in the case of her rejecting a god. Whether he meant it or not it was...she was inclined to believe he thought he meant it. "Thank you for your time Lord Manderly."
Sansa paused as she realized she wasn't the only one in the gods wood. She straightened. "Your Holiness, I was not expecting you."
"Hey." Daisy looked over her shoulder at her. "I can go if you want privacy to pray."
Sansa shook her head, just stepping closer to the heart tree. "I haven't prayed in a long time." She looked at the god. "Why do you come here?"
"It feels...I don't know." Daisy shrugged, closing her eyes. "I can feel it though. Like a song just out of hearing. It's hypnotic really." Her eyes opened as she breathed out. "I guess it's peaceful."
Her gaze turned to the face set into the white bark of the tree. "It was the one place in King's Landing where people didn't try to talk to me."
"If that's a hint there's some future cult members I can go make run some more laps." Daisy's question seemed genuine.
She didn't look away from the gaping mouth leaking red sap. "Lord Manderly and I discussed my marriage."
"Are you ok?" Daisy was facing her fully now, a hand reached but didn't touch her.
Sansa wondered at that, she realized the god hadn't touched her since that day when the Boltons had died. Memories she did not wish to dwell on. "I'm surprised it took this long for the topic to be broached."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." Daisy's voice was firm.
She turned to meet the focus of the god. And she wondered. "Don't I?"
"Not..not that." Daisy's face was...she cared. "No one deserves that. What can I do to ensure you're not forced into a marriage you don't want?"
Sansa realized in that moment that she didn't feel threatened. She was unsure at the truth of Wyman's words, an idea even she'd considered. There was certainly something going on with the god she didn't quite grasp. But she didn't feel the prickle at the back of her neck she felt around Petyr, or any of the men who'd desired her. It was dangerous, but a relief as well. "There are no marriage options worth losing it as a future tool."
"You should be allowed to marry who you want." Daisy frowned.
Sansa wondered at the world this god must have come from to think of an arranged marriage as an injustice. "Were you never expected to marry?"
"No." She laughed. "Not sure if I'm the marrying kind." Daisy's voice was humorous but it was clearly a mask in its own way.
She couldn't understand that. "How? Surely one of your position has suitors, alliances for your people."
"Sure?" Daisy rolled her eyes. "I have just been ignoring Deke and hoping he goes away with his pining. It'd be super creepy. He's Fitz and Jemma's grandson." She waved a hand. "It's complicated. But I'm not interested so it doesn't really matter. And sure people take a pass now and then but it's easy enough to turn them down."
Sansa wondered at the implied power to simply be able to ignore suitors. To know marriage was simply a thing to be chosen if wanted. "Surely none would dare turn you down if you wished for a person."
"You'd be surprised." Daisy brushed some of her hair behind one ear. "But what can you do? Sometimes people just don't feel the same way."
Sansa breathed out slowly. "That is very Dornish of you."
"Yeah the Dornish seem pretty chill from what I've heard." Daisy paused, her eyes flicking towards the north, her posture shifting. Her eyes closed as she dropped to the ground, her hand flattening to it.
/
Daisy could feel the vibrations of the world around her. It'd taken hours, weeks to even begin to properly parse out things. But she could feel a vague presence of others. Especially here where the tree and its roots made the rest of the world feel...more clear almost in contrast to the oddness of the magic tree's song. And she could feel it, in the distance. The vibrations of hundreds of men and horses. They were moving closer. Her eyes opened. "I think Jon is back."
"Are you sure?" Sansa questioned.
She shook her head. "No, but we knew he'd be returning soon. If it's not him I'll handle it." It may be an army, but it wasn't so large of one she'd run the risk of doing horrific damage in handling it. Daisy stood up. "Come on, someone will spot them soon and come find you."
Daisy grinned at the sight of marching Stark banners approaching down the road towards Winterfell. She'd been right. And based on her recent reading the other banners she was spotting were Glover, Mormont and a few of the smaller house's from the north. Actually, that was Umber banners she was pretty sure. "So, looks like Jon did it."
"He's come back." There was a weight to Sansa's words. A relief and gaping chasm of affection.
Daisy was glad the broody guy'd done it. And it helped that Sansa's powerbase was growing. She spotted the front riding party that was ahead of the march. The black garbed rider was almost assuredly Jon. "Good for you."
As they watched it became unmistakable that it was indeed Jon come back. Daisy stayed in the background as Sansa left to stand in the courtyard to welcome the incoming men. She knew standing too close to the lady would be a problem. No one needed to think Sansa was her puppet or some nonsense. She really hated politics. Which was probably why Coulson hadn't used her for inter-agency meet and greets.
She glanced at Joran who was standing beside her. "So, that's basically all the Houses we were hoping he'd bring back?"
"I believe so." He pointed to some of the banners. "Those there aren't Northern, must be survivors of Stannis's army." He winced as he moved. "Uh...are any of us going to feel our arms again properly?" There was some tiny flicker of hope there.
Daisy nudged the poor guy slightly. "Yeah it goes away. It's the feeling of your muscles repairing themselves stronger than before. No pain, no gain. Which a bit miserable, but unfortunately the truth."
"Right." He squared his shoulders. "It's an honor to be trained by you, your Holiness."
She was proud of her men, even if their presence freaked her out a bit. "We'll have to make sure you all can read."
"Truly?" His eyes widened as he looked at her in surprise.
Daisy hummed. "It'll help you all. And I can't just make you run laps and do pull ups all day."
"I'll let the men know." Joran's chest puffed with pride. His unofficial position as leader of the men was clearly a point of great pride to him.
She smiled slightly as she returned her attention to where the front riders had just entered the courtyard. As the men dismounted she noticed Sansa had taken a half step forward almost as if she couldn't help it. Which was...odd. Especially from someone as tightly controlled as the redhead. Daisy was about to ask Joran if he knew, only to still as a kid stepped past Jon. Tall, nearly as tall as Jon really, but clearly a kid from this distance. But fairly unremarkable, his clothing less fine than the others that'd just entered.
Only Sansa clearly recognized something in the kid Daisy didn't. Because she ran, catching the kid in her arms. There were murmurs, as the kid and Sansa clung to each other.
Daisy dropped from the ramparts to the courtyard and glared to ensure no one was stupid enough to interupt them. She might not know exactly what was happening, but she knew family reunited. The desperate touch, the open emotion apparent on the Lady of Winterfell for the second time since Daisy had met her.
Jon stepped over, wrapping his arms around both of them. The three just clinging to each other. Tears on more than one cheek.
She didn't need to ask to know the kid was a Stark. And it ached to witness. Her eyes tracked to where Fitz was standing by the entrance to his workshop. When had her family ceased to be this, and become what it was now? It was painful to see, but she was happy for them. So unbearably happy for her friend.