Sansa sighed deeply as she sunk into the chair in her rooms. It had been an arduous time trying to calm her little cousin and she was relieved when he had finally cried himself to sleep. It had been a struggle to get him calm enough to listen to her as she had explained the situation. Had explained that his 'uncle' was gone. He had shaken and cried and screamed that they were lying to him. It had taken hours of soothing words and gentle touches to have him see reason and then he had demanded Alayne's presence until he slept. She had emptied her arsenal of fantastic stories to tell him and when he had finally dozed off, she was exhausted herself.
She knew that it would be much easier if she had given in and administered the sweetsleep that Robin had been begging for, but she was determined to wean him from the drug. He was weak enough as it was and the heavy doses Petyr had given him had done nothing to strengthen the boy. No...if Sansa had any say in the matter, Robin would never take another drought of that horrid liquid. The boy may be a terror, but he was her family-one of the only members she had left. And she really couldn't blame Robin for his behaviour. How was he to know any better with the mother he had? Sansa blamed Lysa for spoiling him and she had struggled with righting her aunt's mistake since her...fall. Robin had gotten much better to handle and so as she poured herself a full glass of wine she tried to shake any annoyance towards her cousin from her. This was traumatic for her as well, and if anyone could sympathize with losing your parents in rapid succession, it was her.
When a knock came from her door, she grunted in exasperation. Couldn't they leave her alone for a moment? Were they just incapable of taking care of the Eyrie on their own? How on earth did they function before Petyr and her came? She stood and angrily threw on a heavy robe, abandoning her wine and stomping towards the door. She threw it open and it took a moment to school her features into serenity when she saw the silver queen on the other side of the door. Gods, she had almost forgotten about this trouble. She dipped a respectful curtsey immediately.
"Your grace"
"Lady Stone...I trust the Lord Robert is resting now?" Sansa nodded tightly and surveyed the queen's face. She saw multiple emotions flickering on her face and for the first time noticed how small she was. The queen was close to a whole head shorter than Sansa herself and daintily built. She looked lost, unsure of herself and Sansa almost snickered. It was easy to seem intimidating on a dragon's back, but once you had to actually interact with your people, it must be difficult. She had surely made a mess in the Vale. Within minutes of her arrival she had executed their de facto leader and then made their true lord burst into tears shortly after. Sansa actually felt pity rise in her chest at the queen's discomfiture.
"Yes, your grace, he is resting well. I must apologize for the oversight. He should have been told before meeting with you..." But Daenerys was shaking her head emphatically.
"No, no it is not your fault...I..." she hesitated slightly and Sansa stepped to the side.
"Would you join me for a glass of wine, your grace? I believe we might have quite a bit to discuss."
Daenerys nodded gratefully and stepped into Sansa's modest chambers. As the queen sat herself before the fireplace, Sansa bent and threw some logs into the cold hearth. Throwing some tinder into place as well, she quickly had a small flame. She blew gently, fostering the tiny flicker until it was a bright blaze. She wiped the ash from her hands and joined the queen, picking up the discarded wine from earlier. She had been looking forward to drinking herself to sleep, but those hopes were firmly dashed. She needed to truly speak to the queen. She had been distracted earlier with the arrival of her husband but when he hadn't recognized her she knew she could escape notice. It was time to discover the queen's motives and work towards Alayne's future.
They sat in awkward silence for a moment, neither willing to take the first step in broaching such a subject. Finally Sansa took a deep breath.
"What was my father guilty of? Why was he executed moments after your arrival? What did he do?"
Daenerys' mouth grew into a taught line and she stared into the fire. "You did not know your father until recently, correct?" Sansa nodded. "Petyr Baelish was a bad man, Lady Stone. It may be hard to hear, but I'm more than happy to tell you the truth of the man who was your sire."
Sansa nodded quickly. As Daenerys launched into an extensive list of crimes, some that she knew of and many that she didn't, she felt the blood drain from her face. She listened in stunned silence at the list of manipulations that Petyr had orchestrated over the past decade. Is was when a familiar name fell from the queen's lips that she jerked back to her senses.
"Stark?"
Daenerys nodded. "Eddard Stark, hand of the usurper. Baelish framed Lord Tyrion for the murder of his young son, betrayed Lord Stark in the capital once the usurper fell, was instrumental in convincing the whore queen's bastard son in murdering him, and then conspired with the Lannister's to eliminate the rest of the Stark family."
Sansa's mouth had gone dry. Petyr...he couldn't have...they had spoken so many times about her father's downfall...he had offered her his condolences and had held her on the few occasions she had opened up to him and cried. She knew that he had lied countless times to everyone else, but she had thought they had reached an understanding between them. He had promised to never lie to her. "How..." her voice broke slightly and she cleared her throat. "How do you know this?" she croaked.
"Lord Tyrion with the help of Lord Varys. It seems like there was quite a conspiracy."
"But why would you care of the Starks? They are no friends of yours..." Sansa knew she should be careful talking about her family, but she couldn't help herself.
The queen shrugged, admitting her point before growing serious again. "Tyrion has told me that Lord Stark was one of my only advocates when the usurper was calling for my murder. Back when I was freshly married and terrified of the mad dogs assassins. He said that Stark went so far as to threaten leaving when the usurper would not listen to him. He was also murdered by the bastard when he dared unveil the truth of his parentage. The war that your father started burned through most of the country, claiming thousands and thousands of lives. Please trust that he deserved to die. I couldn't have him manipulating from the sidelines of my reign."
Hearing about her honorable true father had unexpected tears running down Sansa's cheeks, but Daenerys only looked at her sympathetically. "I am truly sorry for your loss-" Sansa had to bit her lip to keep herself from scoffing sarcastically. "-But I meant what I said. You have nothing to fear from me. I am not another mad ruler on the throne. I dealt out my justice quickly and painlessly and I find no reason why any other should suffer. You are safe, Lady Stone."
Overwhelmed and drowning in memories and sorrow, Sansa could only nod. The next few moments passed in a daze as Daenerys excused herself and left her alone. As the door closed behind the silver queen, Sansa felt her knees giving out as she sunk to the ground before the roaring flames. She knelt on the cold ground, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking her body gently, watching the fire and allowing the tears to fall freely. For just an hour she allowed herself to forget all the dangers she faced right now. Allowed herself to forget Robin and Harry and Tyrion and the queen and her uncertain future and just let herself mourn her family and the deception she had fallen for. She had never really asked him of his involvement. Maybe because she didn't truly want to know. She had been happy to live with him and have him teach her how to play the game all the time living with the man who had orchestrated all of her pain.
The thoughts of all the times his hands had lingered on her waist, his eyes had appraised her blossoming body, the familial kisses good night that were not very chaste rushed through her mind and in an instant she was retching before the flames. Her stomach heaved the wine she had been gulping down and her head pounded as her body voided itself. Empty and heartbroken, she crawled to her bed, wrapping her shivering body in the rough woolen blanket. As she laid there, wishing for sleep to claim her, the memory of this morning flashed through her mind. Petyr had met her eyes before the sword had swung and ended his pathetic life. His blood had seeped through the packed earth of the courtyard and had reached her feet. Pulling herself into the fetal position, she skimmed her fingers over the hem of the gown she had been too distraught to remove. She felt the crusty, dried blood on her hem and felt a smile coming over her features. Perhaps this silver queen knew what she was doing after all.