Chapter 86

Daisy watched the tiny forms of people down below in the green fields spreading out from the white walls of Highgarden. It was beautiful, gorgeous honestly. But she really just wanted to be back in Winterfell listening to Sansa complain about her stubborn Lords. She smiled slightly at the sound of some faint panting and heavy footsteps approaching her.

"Is there a reason you insist on finding the highest points of every castle you enter?" Jon grumbled as he walked over to her.

She reached out and shoved his shoulder lightly. "You chose to live on a seven hundred foot wall of ice."

"It was terrible." He replied without hesitation or a flicker of humor as he grimaced at the dizzying height below them. Bracing himself he leveraged himself up, and his feet over so that he was sitting beside her, his boots hanging out over the empty height.

Daisy's light smile widened, though she was prepared to grab him if he overbalanced. "I like it up here."

"Why?" He looked at her clearly baffled.

She looked away from him. The sunlight was golden as the sun hovered near the horizon, it'd be setting soon. "I always liked small enclosed spaces, but ever since I got here everyone finds me far too quickly in them."

"Should I leave you?" He asked.

Daisy shook her head. "You're fine, there's always room for you up here." She shrugged. "Besides, I was never afraid of heights."

He settled more comfortably at the indication he was welcome. Though he was clearly pondering something.

She left him to it. It was peaceful up here, she could let the vibrations dance around her and just listen to them. The more she listened the more texture they seemed to gain. Daisy was considering trying to see if she could adjust the light all around them. Might freak out the dragon though, which would probably be bad. She could handle it but…making dragons look dumb would be bad for the balance of power. Well, too dumb. Probably. Her inner voice that sounded a lot like Coulson said not to risk it.

"I handled it poorly, to say the least, but could we speak of you and my sister?" Jon asked finally.

Daisy looked at him in surprise. "Sure? What's up?"

"I know…I know you care for her. But what are your intentions?" His solemn eyes felt like a weight as he looked at her.

She…forced herself not to brush off the question like she instinctively wished to. "To help her, and you and everyone survive your Long Night, to not fuck up things too badly and as long as she wants me, to not fuck that up either."

"Do you make her happy?" Jon asked quietly, an uncomfortable genuine honesty to the question.

A part of her wanted to squirm away but…not all of her. "I try to." She folded her arms over her stomach. "Sometimes she smiles and it's like…I can't look away, and I know I put that look on her face." Daisy blew out a breath, she knew Jon was waiting to hear if she would continue. Andrew would be so proud if he was still alive, this medieval world was making her talk about her feelings…like so much.

Jon nodded. "I…why her? You're a god, even if you don't act like one most of the time. You could have anyone, I'm half-convinced the Tyrells want you to try and woo Daenerys. Why my sister?"

She snorted. "First, they absolutely want that but haven't decided if it's possible yet. I think they'd chuck anyone I even looked at twice at me if they could…I'm going to have to just talk to the married ones for a while." Daisy's humor faded as she considered his actual question. "I don't know…you don't need me to tell you Sansa's special."

"No, I don't suppose I do." His lips twitched upwards, the deep adoration he felt for his family plain to be seen. "Humor me?"

"She's fierce, intelligent even if she insists on saying she's not, and kind. I don't…people fear what I am, but she never did, only what I could do." Daisy still wasn't entirely sure why that mattered so fucking much, but it did.

Jon frowned. "What you are?"

"I wasn't always a god or whatever I am, Jon." She blew out a breath. "I was just inhuman, grew up thinking I was human. And then…do you understand what being inhuman means?"

He shook his head. "I can't say I do."

"The Kree needed foot soldiers in their war, slave soldiers. Mortal life span, human weakness, but containing the power to kill a god." Daisy scoffed, the deep disgust at the knowledge of what the Kree were. Statistically, at least one Kree had to not be a pile of dicks…she wasn't holding her breath. "So they made them. I don't know what the process was exactly to make humans with the right amount of Kree in them, but it was horrific. The other gods consider us abominations. Horrors of a war not talked about, they like to pretend we don't exist and if they find us then they either enslave us as convenient soldiers or kill us. And humans? We're the monsters of your nightmares. My team, my family were terrified of me once they knew what I was."

"Daisy." Jon looked horrified, his eyes wide.

She kept going, her voice speeding up. "Fuck, Jemma and Mack wanted to kill me before I could kill them. It didn't matter that I never wanted it, that I'd only had days to try and control it. Couldn't make up their minds so they dumped me in a prison in the middle of fucking nowhere so I couldn't be a threat to them. But that wasn't enough for a faction in SHIELD. So they sent a kill squad after me. I leveled a forest just trying to not die."

She scoffed. "And then I was with the other Inhumans in Afterlife and I thought…I don't know. But I wasn't right for them. Too connected to humans, a soldier for a cause I wasn't willing to reject just because people were scared."

Daisy's eyes felt like they were burning. "It all went to hell, people died, my dad killed my mom. And I was a SHIELD agent again, but they all thought of me as Coulson's pet monster. Hive proved them all right. I didn't end up as…whatever I am, because I wanted it. I never wanted it, but I wasn't given a choice. Not really. If they needed my power no one cared if it hurt me, not after they knew I wasn't human. Not even Coulson. If I could still walk I could fight, didn't matter if I was bleeding, if my bones were shattering. I didn't get to grieve or stop, because if I wasn't fighting I was a threat to be stopped. But I believe in SHIELD's mission, in protecting those who can't protect themselves so I did it. I fought, and I fought. I dragged my bleeding, shattered body through. I tried not to get angry when they always thought I was a monster when it was my blood on their hands."

"And when the world was ending, and billions of lives were at stake, I fought against Talbot, the World Killer by myself. I lay in a crater, my veins burning as power I didn't want burned through me and I was alone. And then I got up and helped carry Fitz's dead body back to tell my best friend, his wife, that I hadn't been able to save him. And dying in a bed in the same room we brought Fitz to was Coulson." Daisy knew she was bitter, months to go over the events at the end of the world, over, and over…she didn't understand why she'd been alone against Talbot. Her eyes burned as tears spilled that she resolutely wiped away. Everyone else had been together, but she'd faced death alone. Again. "And then it didn't matter that I lost Coulson, what mattered was Jemma had lost Fitz. So we traveled the stars to try and bring a version of him back. And the gods and monsters that would have done anything to enslave or kill me before started running in terror."

Jon was looking at her in horror, no words coming. Struck dumb by information he didn't even have all the tools to understand correctly.

"I came out of your heart tree, I slaughtered the Boltons because they were disgusting monsters who'd have never stopped hurting other people. I've never been so blatant with my powers in my life as I've been since I got here. And your sister not once was afraid of what I was. She judged me by what I did, never what I was." Daisy swallowed. "She only ever asked, never expected or assumed or demanded. How can I not want to make her happy? To just be near her?"And…Daisy's throat felt wet and dry all at once, her eyes blurry with tears as her shoulders shivered from holding herself together, and her voice cracked. "How can I not love her?"

Jon grabbed her and hauled her into his arms. He was firm and there, holding her so tightly that if she'd been human it might have bruised. And Daisy…Daisy didn't know why but she cried, burying her face in his shoulder, with its stupid Tyrell velvet doublet, her fingers curling in the front of the stupid thing. And maybe…maybe she did know why she was crying. Because she hadn't let herself cry in so long, because she'd had to be the strong one. The one holding everything together, not showing weakness. The one not allowed to.

The sounds she made were definitely ugly choked sobs, and the no doubt exorbitantly expensive doublet def was not surviving it. But she didn't care. Instead, she felt boneless as sobs wracked her, and Jon held her as tightly as he could. As he didn't pull back despite the fact her powers had to be spilling out. That he had to be able to feel just how horrifically dangerous she could be.

"You're not a monster." Jon's voice was rough as he somehow managed to hug her tighter against her. "You never could be."

Daisy wasn't sure what the sound she made at that was, but she couldn't have stopped it. Didn't try to, just leaning into him harder. Whether she was shaking from her powers or sobs was… likely both, she just uncontrollably was. And he didn't let go.

/

Fitz's shoulders were faintly hunched as he stepped into Sansa's office. He distinctly did not like the conversation he needed to have with the woman. His eyes flicked over the guard, a man he'd seen around bent over paper, quill in hand, and Lord Manderly sitting in front of where Sansa was behind her desk. There was a servant sweeping by the fire, but frankly, Fitz could care less.

"Fitz, you wished to have a word with me?" Sansa's clear blue eyes were as unfriendly as usual when she looked at him.

He squashed his instinctive dislike for the woman. "There's some things you should probably know about Daisy."

"About her sense of dress?" Sansa said slowly while looking at him with something that might have been confusion if she wasn't nearly as expressionless as May.

He grimaced. "No, about …you two being...together? Cause it's been…a while and you're still…a thing."

"You sound surprised?" Manderly chuckled.

Fitz winced. "Well…yeah?"

Sansa finally nodded. "I assume you wish for this to be an at least slightly private conversation?"

"Yes." Fitz's fingers twitched. This was just…weird? Daisy had to pick the most difficult person in her vicinity to get attached to.

She didn't look away from his face for a few agonizing seconds. "Very well, Lord Manderly, Bower, we'll finish our work in the morning."

Manderly heaved himself to his feet, bowing his head in deep respect. "Till then, your Grace."

Fitz shifted awkwardly as he waited for the room to be emptied. He did notice the guard was very much going nowhere…but they all were terrified of Daisy so it was probably fine. He was pretty sure that one was one of Daisy's even if he didn't have a leaf with a wolf on it pinned to his person somewhere. He shuffled to the side so he wasn't in the way as they left.

"Well, what is so important that I know it?" Sansa asked as the door shut.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Daisy's my best friend. I know…things are…not right between us right now. But she's still my best friend. And there are things…things that would matter here that I don't think you'd know to do."

Something eased ever so slightly about Sansa, she waved to the chair. Frankly, years with May were the only reason he noted the change at all. "Please, do you want wine or tea or something?" She rose to her feet and walked to the sideboard. Her hands preparing a cup of tea with practiced motions.

"Tea, yeah, tea'd be nice." He frowned. "The greying angry one is Barbrey right?" Fitz waited for an amused twitch on Sansa's face and a faint tip of her head before continuing. "She wasn't wrong."

Sansa stepped to the chair opposite him, leaving the kettle over the fire. Her face was about as easy to read as a rock. "She rarely is, and she is quite blunt."

"Yes well." Fitz licked at his lips nervously. "Look, you are different than who she usually…goes for."

She raised a brow. "So you assumed she would get me out of her system and move on?"

He winced. "Kinda. It doesn't help you're…the worst person she could have chosen." Fitz ignored how the guard was shifting in outrage. "Not cause you're not a good person or whatever. But…this is your home."

"I don't believe I take your meaning, but I assume you don't intend that as an insult." Her voice was dry.

Fitz huffed. "You're the Queen. We can't take you with us when we l-leave. If she'd been into…basically anyone else it wouldn't be an issue."

"You dislike me because there is an end to your time here." Sansa's eyes held his. "That is a reason I can respect, why not continue ignoring me whenever possible?"

He leaned back. "Because stupid or not, she's with you. So I should tell you what she won't..probably. It'd be kinda obvious to us but different world, different customs."

"What customs do you think I should know?" Sansa asked her attention certainly on him.

Fitz straightened, right the easy part. "Well considering she hasn't slept in her room since…its been a while, you might want to put a drawer or something of her clothing in your room. That's just polite really. I know you all act like she's more masculine than she is, but she's very much a girl. Flowers are normal. And, well, with all the guards and the castle thing keys don't really work here…don't get her a ring. That's a very specific gift to us, don't do it." He bit the inside of his cheek. "If it's not weird for you guys if you sewed one of your wolves onto something of hers she'd wear it…."

"I'm not entirely stupid." Sansa accepted a cup of tea from her guard. "While I thank you for the suggestions, they're not what you're avoiding saying."

He was trying to help which meant…he had to make her understand. "Daisy and I…we're not civilians. And her more, she's a specialist. That means…relationships are different for them."

"Different how?" She blew on the surface of her tea.

Fitz gave a brief nod to the guard as he was handed his own tea. "She'll never tell you she loves you if she's smart." He met her eyes. "Specialists don't…they don't do feelings or really relationships much. It tends to go really bad when they try."

"Excuse me?" She asked.

He winced. "It's just…we never are anywhere longer than a few days really. Weeks at most. It's why most relationships for specialists are well with other specialists, so hard and fast between missions. You guys seem c-conservative about sex even to civilians of our world, and specialists are looser about sex than civilians. And relationships longer than a few months are…almost unheard of. When they do happen it's usually between other specialists. And it doesn't tend to end well then either."

Sansa just sipped tea, listening, like she didn't care or understand what he was trying to explain.

"And Daisy was never one of the fuck buddy in every port type. But her relationships are disasters. Miles and Ward were scum, Lincoln died. She just…she's not some romantic hero like even I hear people describe." He needed her to get it. Because Daisy cared, but that didn't mean she wouldn't fuck it up. Especially if this very proper woman in front of him was expecting her to be some romantic, passionately openly in love sort.

/

Sansa stared at the man before her and felt…baffled. "You think that matters?"

"What?" He looked flummoxed.

She realized he really meant it. "For being such a clever man you are very stupid sometimes."

"Excuse me?" He puffed up slightly in outrage, which honestly for how rude he was constantly he really couldn't take an insult.

Sansa ignored his upset. "Do you think I've listened to nothing Daisy has said to me? Do you think we don't speak at all?"

"She explained that to you?" The actual incredulity in his voice was galling.

She didn't roll her eyes. "Some, but do you think I am a shallow woman?"

He frowned. "No?"

"Then why bring this to me? I do not believe you mean it maliciously, but how would any of this help your best friend?" She could see what he thought he was doing. But it all… did he think that little of his friend? Did he think she wasn't keenly aware that there was an end to what she had with Daisy?

Fitz set his tea aside. "Because Daisy won't mean to hurt you. But if you expect her to do or say things she won't you will get hurt. And Daisy wouldn't want that."

"I see." Sansa had questions, not the ones he likely thought to inspire, and they certainly weren't for him, but she would allow he'd inspired them. "You put a lot of value in words. Words are wind. What a person does is what matters, and in every way, Daisy has been a far better person than you give her credit for. I know that a day will come when you and she will leave for your world, for your duty and home. You do not need to tell me that. And you are right, that will hurt me. But I've known that since the beginning. So you should take your concern and you may leave."

Sansa looked at the fabrics and partially done work from the day's work of the ladies of her court. She considered the time. "If I tell you the fabric and the cut would you aid me in making something? It would be limited time to complete it."

"How limited and how expansive of a project, your Grace?" Mira Lovewell asked curiously from where she was folding the shirt for Daisy that she'd been working on that day. It was all neatly done, the lace more evocative of a dress's lines were really quite pretty.

She picked up the fine wool cloth that was in the specific green of House Stark, and another bolt of the wool in grey. "A vest for now."

"For one of your brothers?" Mira asked, faint confusion there would be little reason for a project for one of her brothers to take time.

Reaching up she carefully touched the silver pendant that lay under the fabric of her gown. "For her Holiness." It was…well even if it was a mistake it was not as if Daisy would be upset by the gesture.

Mira stilled. "These are Stark colors?"

"They are." Sansa agreed.

Mira seemed slightly unsure, her words cautious. "Of course, you would know better than any, but might that not…possibly be received poorly, your Grace?"

Sansa gently hooked the pendant out from under her dress, pulling it visibly out. She noted the exact second Mira spotted it. "I think perhaps it is not so great a risk."

Mira swallowed, her eyes wide. "I believe we can manage a simple vest before her Holiness's return if we keep it simple and elegant."

"Thank you." Sansa turned meeting her lady in waiting's gaze. "Lord and Lady Cerwyn return to us on the morrow, I believe you can ensure Lady Cerwyn is prepared to assist you with your duties?"

Mira gave a dip of her head. "Of course, if I may, why not wait till Lord Manderly's granddaughters can join us to name Lady Cerwyn to such a position? Between my brother's actions and Alys was a Karstark until two months ago."

"There is work to be done. The Lords can grumble about the family of traitors being rewarded all they wish. I can afford those grumbles for the price of competent help and they will not last long." Sansa waived off, she'd already considered the worst case options for people noting her propensity for taking the women of treasonous Houses under her protection and making use of them rather than letting them fall into disgrace and be left to rot. It was more likely the Lords would take it as a threat than a slight to themselves. If they were in the days after a war perhaps it would be a cause of concern. But not now. "Tell me, anything interesting in the sewing circles today I should be aware of?"