Daisy knew something was vaguely up when the various members of the Order avoided her eyes as she walked back towards her room. But well with the Order, it was as likely to be someone had ruined something and they were hiding it while she was there and planning on fixing it desperately as soon as she wasn't present as anything else. So she ignored it, nobody was acting squirrely or panicked so whatever it was wasn't bad. It'd been a long day of helping bake bricks for the roads being put in to help the army and goods travel northward.
She could feel her muscles relaxing as she reached her bedroom door. This place was beginning to feel as much like home as anyplace ever came to feel. Also, she was a big fan of warming pans and the practice of servants preheating the bed for her. She was buying a heating pad and sticking it in her bunk the day she got back. A prospect she was..less anxious for the longer she spent here.
Daisy was halfway through the door when the reality of what, or rather who was in her room dawned on her. She'd absently felt the vibrations of humans, but it wasn't out of the norm for some noble to be waiting for a word with her. Or if some issue with the Order had come up that they felt should be kept fairly private. Especially if they'd cornered Joran. However six very, very! scantily clad individuals were unexpected.
She blinked. "Holy shit."
The six individuals in her room were a mix of body types. There were three women, actually, Daisy recognized two of them from the brothel. She had gone to the tavern with Greatjon Umber too much she decided right then and there. The three barely clothed men were something of a surprise. Between the six of them, they represented a fairly wide range of physical types and colorings. The very scantily clad blonde woman sauntered forward. "We've been expecting you, your Holiness." Her voice was at a damned purr.
Daisy held up a hand in the universal sign of stop. Closing her eyes she physically pinched the bridge of her nose. "Right, no." She breathed out and opened her eyes. Unfortunately, the view hadn't changed. "Ok, let's start with what's your name?"
"Salna your Holiness." Salna managed to bat her eyelashes and quite frankly it wasn't ineffective.
She dropped a hand onto her hip. "This isn't going to happen. However, Salna you're senior here yes?"
"If it pleases you." Salna replied with that damned purr still.
Christ, it'd definitely been too long if this was doing anything other than making her feel incredibly awkward. Thankfully it was almost entirely just awkward. "Who arranged….this?"
"We're here for your pleasure Holiness, is who arranged this gift what you wish to speak of?" She offered, her hand motions bringing attention very specifically to her breast. That was impressively casual looking for a deliberate move.
Daisy settled, her surprise nearly completely faded now. "Not that all of you aren't very attractive people, but I'm not interested." She let her voice hold an even strength that served as a faint warning. Getting groped was not on her agenda for the day. "So, who paid you?"
Salna clearly took the warning, her posture changing ever so faintly. "Lord Baelish wished to pay homage to you, your Holiness."
"Well that makes sense, should have seen that coming." Daisy huffed. "Right, could all of you just put on some actual clothes because it's way too cold for you to have worn that all the way here. And then I'll have some of the Order escort you back to your homes. You did get paid upfront right?"
The red-headed male prostitute spoke up. "Our time was purchased, though only those of us you might select to enjoy would earn our full costs." He definitely had stretched to make his torso appear more appealing. Which, dude was ripped. Actually looked kinda like a ripped male version of Sansa. It wasn't subtle, now that she was thinking about it.
"I'll see to it you are paid properly for your time and no harm comes to you because I'm not interested." She winced, this was worse than turning down some idiot in a bar…so much worse. "But I'm not going to take any of you to bed. Once you're decent one of the Order will be waiting for you."
Daisy spun on her heel and shut the door behind her as she bravely fled the fucking insanity that was apparently her bedroom. Her eyes narrowed as she noted the oddly empty floor.
Striding down to the next floor she raised an eyebrow at the various Order members suddenly avoiding eye contact desperately. "Right, someone is going to go up there and is going to escort the individuals in my room back to wherever it is they live." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Safely and respectfully. And the next time I find a naked prostitute in my room, whoever let them in will run until they puke, and then they'll run some more. Got it?"
"Yes!" Everyone half tripped over themselves to reply, eyes wide in panic.
She sighed. "And I'm not mad at any of you, or the people just doing their jobs upstairs. However, not my thing, just...just no." She glanced upstairs...yeah she wasn't going up there till it was taken care of, cause Yikes! "I'm going to go now, no surprises in my room when I get back, please." And then she fled.
Daisy had been planning on sleeping early, baking bricks, and helping with road clearing was...kinda tiring. However, that was out now. Jon the lucky bastard definitely was happily asleep missing the latest small council meeting. So, if she wasn't sleeping then Baelish was having a shitty night too. And she knew exactly where to find him.
Her strides were even and long as she made her way to the small council chambers. As she moved she carefully vibrated the air around her, just enough to make it noticeable to anyone within twelve feet of her. She was making a point before the idiot Lords of the North decided to do something she'd have to slap them for. She may not be able to do anything about her deeply inconvenient feelings, but she could put the fear of god into some old men to keep them in line for Sansa.
The effect on the various courtiers and men at arms and servants, and various persons about the halls of Winterfell was immediate. Deep and retiring bows of the head, desperate avoidance of eye contact, and shuffling out of the way as quickly as possible. The sudden speeding up of the heart rates of every person she passed was…kind of hilarious frankly. It's not like she'd been smiting people left, right, and center. But well, impressions and all that.
Daisy spotted her own man Seth guarding the door into the small council chamber. She noted he was paling. Her lips twitched up as she brushed past him. And well, she winked at him before her face settled again as she opened the door with her powers.
"Daisy." Sansa looked up from the map she was leaning over. The exhaustion of two days arguing over what to do about Dragonstone was apparent, though she was hiding it well. Her eyes sharpened as she registered the projection of powers and Daisy's stance.
She'd communicate what she was about to do to Sansa if she could, but timing was important and this needed to happen before the entire small council, or well the named small council and various important men who Sansa desired advice from. Tonight it was nearly two dozen men, which was excellent. Instead of speaking first her eyes snapped from Sansa to Petyr fucking Baelish. When her voice did come out, it came out cold. "Lord Baelish."
"Your Holiness." Baelish gave a slight bow. And oh that smug smirk on his face. She really wanted to slap it off. "I trust you found my gift?"
She really wished he wasn't important to Sansa's political goals. If anyone deserved to be paste it was him.
His face flinched as he straightened, hand waving with his words. "Of course, if it was not to your taste I apologize. I've so recently arrived if I misjudged your tastes I can only beg forgiveness."
And well, he was good at lying. Unfortunately, his hand waving had been a mistake. It was hardly more than a flick of her hand to grab his hand, and then she bent.
He dropped to his knees with a sharp cry of pain. After all, it was bend or let the fingers snap. And she'd have snapped them.
"Let's not lie, shall we. You decided to offer me whores for many reasons, none of which were as a simple gift. And you thought if you'd miscalculated they'd pay the price, not you." Daisy was frankly disgusted by the man but ensuring he was reminded that some games weren't worth it wasn't the entire point of this performance. "You seem to have failed to put the pieces together very well. You have to know I grew up thinking I was human, and I grew up on the street. While I never was forced to that profession, what makes you think I hold anything but respect for prostitutes and anything but disgust for whoremongers?"
The room was dead silent, Baelish winced as he looked up at her. "I meant no offense."
"Yes you did, or else you were stupid. I think we both know which it was." She tilted her head to the side as stared down at him, her expression snide. "Do you think it's hard for me to find someone to have sex with if I want? I could walk out of this room and find someone before I was even out of the keep with my eyes closed. Doubt I'd even have to leave this room. If I wanted some random roll in the hay I could do that."
And fuck it, Daisy was actually furious about it. Because she could guess at several reasons that had likely led to the damned situation. A test of her character, an assumption of powerful people being weak to cheap pleasures, a gambit to see what she'd do, an attempt to gain leverage, ingratiation, and probably a dozen others as well. But principally it was about testing how serious her courtship of Sansa was. He was seeing how much she cared.
Daisy tossed his hand to the side, releasing him in disgust. "What I find attractive in another person is something you could never buy or sell: integrity, resilience, courage, strength, kindness, idealism. And you and every other idiot in this castle can stay out of it. Because Sansa can say no, that's her right. And if she says yes it will be because she truly means it, not because she was forced into it. Cause it'd mean nothing if she was forced to. I'm happy being her friend, it's not some consolation prize. She's not a thing to be possessed or used. She's a person with free will. Hell, she could change her mind no matter what she decides and that'd be fine too. So go pay the people you hired, more than you promised them, and if you try something like this again I'll break every bone in your body."
Baelish rubbed at his hand while looking up at her. "As you wish your Holiness." He started to rise.
Her eyes narrowed, her powers forcing him to stay down. "We have more in common than I think either of us would like to think Baelish. But we're very different in quite a few ways. Your information, connections, wealth, that's all power. In some ways more useful power than any physical destruction, I could perform with a flick of my fingers. Don't waste it with pointless games involving me or the Queen again. I'll be less forgiving next time."
Looking away from him she met the looks from the rest of the very pale and cowed looking Lords. She met Sansa's eyes and gave her a sharp nod. Sansa could work with that, and use it to tell anyone pressuring her to do anything about the whole courtship thing to fuck off. "Sorry for interrupting."
"There's nothing to apologize for." Sansa had the oddest expression on her face as she stood there, that certain nobility to her posture that never seemed to leave it. And the sad or maybe funny thing was Daisy had meant every word. Sansa was all those things, and she was deserving of every choice, and her friendship wasn't a consolation prize in the least.
/
Petyr Baelish's first stop after waking in the soft morning light had been to pay the whores. A thing he did handsomely. Oh, they may not have fucked their resident god, but they'd done more than he had hoped. He'd poked the beehive and the swarm had come out. It'd been glorious, of course, he'd have rather not been forced to kneel, but it was a small inconvenience all told.
He flexed his hands inside of his gloves, it really was bitingly cold here. Terrible bit of country for all it was useful. He'd have to have additional outer garb made for himself. His second stop had been to acquire the finest quill from his own baggage. And well, then this cold walk towards the God's Tower. He'd suspected the woman styling herself as a god, or perhaps actually one, had a brain. It was gratifying to know he'd been right. Intelligent pieces were always so much more useful.
"You there." He caught the attention of the Order member just exiting the tower.
The boy straightened, his shaggy brown hair half fell in his eyes. On second look he was missing an arm, his Order gambeson sleeve neatly pinned out of the way. "Did you need something M'Lord?" His bearing was closed off.
Petyr didn't let the faint disrespect bother him. It was to be expected. "Is her Holiness still in the tower? Proper apologies to be made, I'm sure you understand. "
It was clearly the right thing to say, a faint softening to the boy, though he still appeared faintly suspicious. "Aye, she's helping with some reading lessons. Fifth floor, can't miss it."
"I'll remember your aid, good man." He would get one of the Order into his service eventually. It might take time, but it'd be worth it. Good impressions now were everything, that and wealth.
Petyr found the tower disquieting in what it said about its mistress. He could have guessed at what he found, but people who didn't value wealth, finery, or any of life's finer pleasures were rarely corruptible. Everyone may have their weak spots, but the low hanging fruit was so much easier. Still, it wasn't like he needed another weak spot. This god had advertised her soft spot. The political show she'd given the night before said it wasn't lust, it wasn't boredom, it wasn't fancy, it was love she held for Sansa Stark. The only reason for that show was to give Sansa power both within her own council and over the god herself in their relationship. No one did something that stupid without being in love.
As he moved through the tower everything about its layout and what was valued said soldier. If anything could have told him this god grew up a commoner as she claimed this tower was proof of it. It was laid out for the comfort of the men, with an eye to the practicalities needed for a soldier and without care for any privilege beyond a strange preoccupation with cleanliness.
The fifth floor was lined with desks and writing equipment. Six men and a woman were carefully writing on cheap paper under the watchful eye of a man using crutches. The god was bent over one of the men, laughter in her voice as she politely adjusted his grip on the quill. It was fascinating to watch in its genuineness.
Daisy looked up, whether she heard or sensed his presence was immaterial. She arched a single brow as she straightened, an amused expression on her face. And at that moment he knew every single implication of her behavior had been intentional. She knew exactly how the game was played. Her showing off her soft spot had been a threat. "Lord Baelish, feel free to drop whatever gift you brought as an excuse to be here on any of the tables."
"Well, I couldn't come empty handed could I, your Holiness?" He allowed himself the faintest of smirks. Oh, she would be fun, and a thousand times more useful than he could have hoped so long as their goals remained aligned close enough.
She huffed but didn't contradict him.
"Your Holiness, do you think the Lords of the North know what you did for their Queen with that performance last night? It was impressive. Truly, I'm impressed." He neatly ignored the Order members as he spoke.
She crossed her arms as she looked at him, unmistakable intelligence in her eyes. "It doesn't change if they do know." Daisy stared at him. "But let's be real clear, if you do anything to weaken Sansa's position, let alone harm a hair on her head and you won't survive. Whether you die of a tragic heart attack or are boiled alive from the inside out, won't really matter."
"We both want her Grace's reign to succeed and the army of the Dead to be defeated." Petyr was frankly exhilarated, the stakes had always been death. But wasn't that fascinating? An opponent who brandished their weakness and dared you to try.
Daisy couldn't have looked more disbelieving if she'd wanted. "And no other goals I'm sure."
"I can't imagine any goals that could rise above those two in any man's heart. Or yours, clearly. That was a brazen declaration of love you gave, truly a gesture for the songs. Honorable you wish for your love returned wholeheartedly or not at all. Few are so principled." He let the compliment that was also a criticism fall from his lips.
She flicked her fingers slightly. "It was necessary if you felt comfortable sending prostitutes to my quarters, you definitely talked to some of the others. And I felt some very guilty heartbeats last night. So I put an end to it." And oh she actually had been insulted by it, even if her response had been for the Queen.
"By giving our Queen complete control of your suit. Quite selfless." He pointedly waved his hand she'd used to force him to his knees. "I assume my humiliation made up for any insult I gave?"
"Please, if anything it helped you. Giving insult so newly arrived to the new god by giving the wrong gift. Then following my orders and paying those you hired before coming immediately to personally apologize. If you wanted to set yourself apart from the Stormlanders that would do it."
His mustache twitched faintly. "A fringe benefit I assure you." The true gift had been the measure of her character. So much power, so much idealism, so much confidence.
/
Wolkan stared at the message in his hands. As Maester his duty was to run the ravenry and bring and send messages to the master of the castle. Reading them was not. His mouth felt dry as he looked at the words on the paper. Sansa had handed it to him after reading it. She was silent as she waited, and so he read the message.
-"Queen Danaerys Targaryen, First of Her Name invites you to Dragonstone. My Queen commands the combined forces of Dorne and the Reach, an Ironborn fleet, legions of Unsullied, a Dothraki horde and three dragons. The Seven Kingdoms will bleed as long as Cersei sits on the Iron Throne. Join us. Together we can end her tyranny. I appeal to you, not as my former wife, but as one who knows my sister's cruelty well. My watch for your arrival begins.
Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the Queen"-
"Danaerys Targaryen then," Sansa said into the silence of the room.
He swallowed, his throat drier still. "The Dothraki don't cross oceans."
"They've crossed one now." Sansa's voice was dry. "I wonder if this war will be called the War for Dawn or the War of Three Queens? Perhaps both."
Wolkan looked at his Queen. "You're certain this is genuine then?"
"It's his hand, and only he would know what he told me on our wedding night." Her face was as readable as ice as she stared towards the fire. "No doubt in a week to two weeks' time a rider will arrive with a far longer and less friendly message directly from this Dragon Queen."
Wolkan frowned. "Less friendly?"
"She didn't come with an army and three dragons just to rule six of seven kingdoms." Sansa replied as if it was as obvious as the sky being blue. "Any plan to take Dragonstone in order to mine it for dragonglass is of course pointless now. A ghost crew of whatever men Stannis left behind would be one thing, the largest army in all of Westeros is another."
Wolkan accepted they would fight the dead with fire alone in that moment. "Well then, how are we to refuse?"
"Ignoring her might buy us the most time...though a diplomatic exchange could prolong negotiations long enough if this Queen is patient. I doubt it however, her House is not known for their even tempers and patience after all." Sansa tapped her fingers on the top of her desk. "I'll need to let the court know."
He bowed his head. "I'll see they're informed, your Grace."
"Thank you." She looked at him. "Do you think the gods make a mockery of us? Our enemies seem to ever multiply, and our fortunes turn bleaker with every victory."
Wolkan folded his hands into his sleeves, giving himself time to consider her words. "I think your Grace that the gods mayhap have thrown the dice and abandoned us to our fates. But the Old Gods at least gave us hope in this Long Night to come."
Her face softened, the faintest crinkle about her eyes. "I'm sure Daisy would be terribly uncomfortable if she was plainly told in what regard we hold her."
"Undoubtedly." He chuckled in amusement. "The longer I hold her acquaintance the more sure I am that this god was brought to us, not for her powers, but rather her capability to love."
The faintest hint of red rose to Sansa's pale cheeks. "Yes, well one only has to see her around a child to know that."
Wolkan wisely decided not to mention how that wasn't the example he'd been thinking of. Because he had no interest in rousing the anger of a god for touching the dynamic between their Queen and god. Instead, he changed the topic since it was one Sansa likely wished to end. "Should I send for your brother the Hand?"
Sansa breathed out. "No, give him the message however. I can hear his thoughts before the court in the morning. He deserves a chance at sleep tonight."
"As you say, your Grace." He bowed his head. "And if I may, you also require sleep occasionally."
She smiled faintly then. "I'll keep your advice in mind Maester."
"That is all I can ask then." He smiled at their Queen and then turned to see to his work.