Chapter 94

Luthor Tyrell was brimming with nerves as he went to present himself to Prince Jon beside his second cousin Garth Flowers. This was a chance that would never come again. The words of Lord Willas echoed in his head. House Tyrell needed them to do well. And more than that, this was their chance, their chance to improve their stations. Improve their House. He knew he'd been chosen as the closest to the main Tyrell family of the correct age, as Garth had been chosen for this due to Prince Jon having been born a bastard. "Are you ready?"

"No." Garth grinned at him though, an excited vibration in his fingers. "You?"

Luthor shook his head. "We'll do our best."

"I'll help you, you help me." Garth gave a sharp nod.

He grabbed his cousin's hand. "Together."

"Do you think we'll be expected to speak with her Holiness?" Garth asked nervously. Which, he was a year younger than Luthor. It was Luthor's job to watch out for him.

Luthor felt his heart beat in his chest at the idea. "We just mind our manners and her Holiness won't pay us any mind. We're just squires."

"That makes sense." Garth breathed out.

He frowned. "His Highness won't care you're a bastard. And her Holiness likes his Highness well enough and he was born a bastard." Of course, his cousin would never rise as high as Luthor would, but he could still rise higher than many.

Luthor marched forward, leading them both straight for the door and knocking. He breathed out, straightening his tunic, his heart thudded in his chest.

The door opened and standing there was Prince Jon. There was a weight to his presence. It wouldn't cross Luthor's mind to think him anything but an important man. Even if his clothing was…plain. He dipped his head. "Your Highness."

"Luthor and Garth then?" His grey eyes which had the faintest flicker of purple in them focused on them.

His spine straightened. "Yes, your Highness."

"Yes." Garth echoed, his eyes wide.

Prince Jon nodded, and stepped aside, waving them into the room. "Well, you'd best come in then."

Luthor and Garth nearly tripped over themselves to enter the solar. They both kept their mouths shut as they waited for their knight…lord…prince…master? To speak. After all, they served him now.

Prince Jon stared at them with solemn eyes for what felt like an age and a half. "You know I can never knight you?"

They both nodded, and excited vibrations ran down Luthor's spine. He was going to get to serve a Prince for his squireship! Who cared if it was the Prince who actually knighted him? Maybe the Queen would! Or a member of the Queensguard?

"I am leading you to a war that could kill us all. There will be no honor, no praise, or accolades. You will be cold, there will be nights you go to bed hungry, wake up hungry, and march hungry. It will not be glorious. No one will give a shit what your names are. If you die you will be burned, not returned to your family. It's a war no one wants to be a part of. A war against death, but it needs to be done. If you want honor or knighthood or songs you should go to your Lord and ask him to remove you from my service. Because I cannot offer that to you." The Prince's honesty radiated from him. His voice and bearing were serious.

Luthor felt the air catch in the back of his throat, a shiver of dread going down his spine. But out of the corner of his eye, he could see Garth straightening, his face turning determined. And…well, he couldn't leave his cousin alone to fight that.

/

Daisy sat by Bran Stark under the weirwood tree in the gods' wood. "How are you not freezing out here?"

"It's warm," Bran replied without a flicker of emotion.

She rolled her eyes. "Because I warmed you up because it's freezing."

"I don't feel it anymore. Not really." His eyes turned to the tree.

Daisy whacked the side of his head. "Your human body can still get frostbite."

He looked at her, an actual flicker of irritation there. "You are a violent person."

"Well apparently you've seen quite a bit of my memories, so I don't know why this is surprising." She was baiting him, but frankly, he needed to be baited out of his shell.

Bran didn't rise to the bait. "Only in preservation of life."

"I'm sure the fact I killed them to save other people made all the difference." Daisy crossed her arms, leaning back slightly, her tone mocking.

His eyes were actually focused on her, progress. "You ask very few questions."

She raised a brow waiting for him to pick up the question. It took a bit.

"Why do you ask so few questions?" He actually managed to communicate a question and that faint bubble of frustration at her being obtuse.

Daisy flicked his ear. "Because you ask too many. Dude, you spend all day out here asking questions. And no real answers."

"I find lots of answers." He defended, and it was a defense.

She sighed, making sure to communicate the 'you are an idiot' vibe his way as hard as possible. "Answers to questions you hadn't asked. Where were you this week? Or I guess where and when."

"The Dance." He answered. "With Cregan Stark."

Daisy ran through what she'd read of the Stark family histories. "He's the one who made the Pact of Ice and Fire isn't he?"

"Aye, he and Jacaerys were fond of one another." Bran's brow furrowed. "I can't see enough."

She let herself take the conversation more seriously, or rather stop needling him. "What is it you want to see about it you aren't finding?"

"The Pact, Ice and Fire. It's important." He looked genuinely angry at himself. "I can't see."

Daisy considered the issue. "Are you looking to see if it was fated and tied into the magical bullshit we're dealing with now?"

"Yes." He breathed, his frustration easing at her understanding.

She hummed. "Fate is…trying to see fate will hurt you, Bran. Changing fate isn't easy. And if you're not seeing it, forcing it will only leave you emptier."

Bran huffed, it was delightfully human. "You are…not helpful."

"I'm very helpful, thank you very much." Daisy reached up adjusting his fur wraps, ensuring the air under the fabric was warm. "You're pushing yourself too hard. Why don't you try looking at what was going on around that time? Like, start by looking at someone insignificant to what was going on. The normal people know more than anyone."

He blinked. "I had not thought of that."

"See, this is why you need to talk to people. Maybe start with your brother? He's learning House history. Talking to him about what Cregan and all those Starks were up to will help you organize it in your head, and your brother misses you." Daisy could feel bits and pieces of 'Bran' rising and then fading again. But she was sure what had robbed him of so much of himself was an accident. It served nothing's purpose for him to be half empty. Or nothing still living's purpose. She was holding out judgment on Bloodraven.

Bran's eyes were cold, the bits of his personality fading slightly. "That isn't important."

"Which part, your brother missing you or it helping you get an outside perspective?" She left her hand on his shoulder.

He was still enough of himself to be frustrated, a good sign. He didn't fade all the way away as often now. "Sentiment."

"Why are you trying to see if you don't feel sentiment for your family and the North?" Daisy was partially pleased and partially confused as she realized she'd flummoxed him. He would take hours to parse that out though. "Think about that instead of the past for a while."

Rising to her feet she glared at the tree, a faint hum of warning thrumming through her and into the ground. She felt the answering hum. Good, the trees wouldn't assist Bran further till the sun rose again. Time in his own head was needed. She squeezed his shoulder. "Ser Conin is going to wheel you inside before dark."

She turned on her heel and walked out of the woods. It was cold, the snow crunching beneath her feet. Daisy gave a brief nod to Conin who was standing guard over Bran. And then she was passing into the castle proper. Daisy didn't startle as Arya folded out of the shadows and fell into step beside her. "Oh, that's a bad news face."

"You haven't been to see my sister yet today," Arya remarked.

Daisy raised a brow. "It's not even noon?"

"Don't play stupid." Arya's eyes were sharp.

She blew out a breath. "Fitz?"

"Duh." Arya scoffed.

Daisy ignored the sinking nausea she felt any time her mind touched on the thought of Fitz making a portal. She barely bit back something stupid and glib. This wasn't the time as much as she wanted this conversation to go away. She could feel Sansa in her King's solar. "Sansa is dealing with her Lords."

"For fucks sake." Arya grabbed Daisy's arm and twisted so that they were facing each other. "Would you go talk to her instead of both of you being miserable?"

Daisy hesitated for a second before her shoulders slumped. "Not going to threaten violence?"

"Are you going to let me stab you for being a fuckwhit?" Arya asked.

She shook her head. "No, I'll go." Daisy gave a faint pause of hesitation, but then turned and left for the familiar feel of Sansa's vibrations. She walked through familiar bustling halls. It was funny, she didn't even feel discomfort at the ducked heads or gestures of respect as she passed anymore. But then…well she'd been here longer than she'd been anywhere save St. Agnes and the Playground. And even that was by an ever-shrinking margin. She knew how dangerous it was to let this place feel more and more like home. It wasn't her home. But she didn't care.

Daisy kinda wished that it took longer to reach the King's Solar. She also wished she could feel more than just Brienne and Mira in there with Sansa. Alas, it would seem her meeting with her small council had ended already. Likely with assigned tasks for them to see to before they met again in the evening. Why did her girlfriend have to be the single most effective bureaucrat Daisy had ever met?

She paused at the door, ignoring how the guard would just let her through. A thing she typically took advantage of but…today she knocked.

Brienne looked startled as she opened the door, realizing it was her on the other side. But she shifted to one side, her green cloak swishing with the movement.

Daisy stepped in and raised a hand in greeting. "Hey."

"You can knock?" Sansa actually looked confounded.

She gave a light laugh at that as she shrugged. "I don't know, it felt right."

"Fitz's new project then?" Sansa set her quill aside from where she'd been working, likely on letters to the Lords of the Riverlands. Daisy wasn't entirely up to date on that project, but she knew Sansa had been consolidating power there one House at a time.

Daisy knew how much she didn't want to have this conversation was written across her face. But she didn't want to hide that even if her instincts demanded she do so. "Arya pointed out that putting it off was dumb. Or well, her actual word choice was to call me a fuckwhit."

Mira Lovewell choked on her own spit at that, while Sansa just sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Sansa's voice was dry. "Of course she did."

"She wasn't wrong." Daisy felt unease. "I was avoiding it."

Sansa looked down at her letter, before looking up again. "Well, I was hardly any better focusing on letters that could wait."

Daisy stepped to Sansa and held out her hand. "Walk with me?"

Sansa's blue eyes met hers for a long moment before she placed her hand in Daisy's and allowed herself to be raised to her feet. She didn't look away from her. "Mira, that will be all."

"Of course your Grace." Mira curtsied before vanishing out the door as fast as her feet could take her without running.

Daisy couldn't help the tug of amusement on her lips as she turned and led them out and into the halls a few seconds after. "Thank you." She knew where she was taking her without even thinking about it. "So, what do your important Lords think of Tyrell trade?"

"Oh, they hate it," Sansa remarked, humor hidden in her dry voice. She didn't brandish her humor, simply let it settle in her words if you knew to listen for it.

Smiling, Daisy felt a quiet thrill at how Sansa looped her arm through hers. Seriously, Daisy had written off so many of Jemma's period romance movies as kinda boring, but she got it now. "They'd sell themselves to Essos and the Iron Bank instead of deal with the Tyrells?"

"If I let them." Sansa's face was even as always if you didn't know how to read people. "It's the Riverlands that will need to depend on Tyrell trade to survive winter, however. The Vale needs little to survive the coming Winter, the North I've taken on enough debts to bring in food which means we will need little from the Tyrells, but the Riverlands will require the aid whether they wish it or not."

Daisy might need to drop by in the night with some weirwood saplings for keeps in the Riverlands. Their respective Lords didn't need to know how they suddenly had a sapling in their castle. Religious unease was a great motivator…also she really was a cult leader. Fuck. But was it a bad thing? "So, how do you plan to make them take on that deal?"

"Remind them of good sense and that they'll starve without the aid." Sansa's lips twitched slightly at Daisy's disbelieving expression. "Marriage alliances between Northern Houses and them, and to threaten them with a visit from Arya once the Dead are seen to."

She couldn't help snorting at that. "Going to mention her slaughter of the Freys in those letters at all?"

"Implied. 'Her Highness Arya of House Stark, and Master of Whispers will arrive at your House as soon as her duties against the Dead are fulfilled as she was unfortunately unable to do so during her prior journey through your lands. Her time was taken up with her business at the Twins'." Sansa recited what was no doubt an actual line from various letters she was sending to the River Lords.

Daisy ignored the fact Brienne was very much just behind them, and also that there were at least two servants within earshot. "Have I mentioned how attractive you threatening people is? Cause it's a thing."

Sansa let out a peal of laughter then that filled the halls, startled expressions on the faces of all who heard. Her hand squeezed Daisy's bicep affectionately. "You're the only one."

"Oh no I'm not. Half your Lords are terrified and enchanted by you like…all the time." Daisy wasn't even kidding. And it wasn't lost on her that the Free Folk were more respectful towards Sansa every time she returned to Winterfell.

Sansa just huffed fondly. "If you say so."

"I say so." She grinned, before falling quiet as they walked out towards the great courtyard.

As they came to a halt in the center of the yard Sansa looked at her curiously. "Where are you taking me?"

"Do you trust me?" Daisy shifted so she was facing her, a faint bounce to her toes.

Sansa was serious as she replied, though curiosity in her tone. "You know I do."

"You'll want to hang on tight then." Daisy grinned, scooping up Sansa, one hand below her knees and the other at her back. She felt her grin turn to a smile as Sansa let out a faint yelp as her arms naturally wrapped around her shoulders.

"Daisy!"

She glanced at Brienne. "I promise to bring her back before sunset." Daisy bent her knees slightly as Sansa's eyes widened in sudden understanding, her fingers digging into the fabric over her shoulders. And then she launched them up and out of the yard.

It was hard to do it without her hands, but she needed her hands to hold onto Sansa. And she wasn't taking them far. Jon, she might be willing to tie onto her back like a sack of potatoes, but she wasn't going to do that to Sansa. Besides, she really was getting shockingly good at the whole flying thing. It was only a few miles.

Daisy usually flipped from head first to feet first before landing. This time she kept them steady instead, more of a gentle arch, and they certainly didn't reach the heights she typically launched herself to. As they hit the ground, the snow blew out from under at the force of the vibrations to slow their speed. Her feet took their weight with a faint crunch of snow. Daisy nosed at the top of Sansa's head where she'd pressed it into her neck. "You can open your eyes now."

Sansa unclenched slowly. And then slapped her shoulder. "DO I TRUST YOU!?"

"So, want to be back on your feet?" Daisy should not be enjoying how flushed with outrage she was.

Sansa half climbed out of Daisy's arms. "You couldn't have given me the slightest warning? You…YOU!"

"Me." Daisy wondered if Sansa would actually whack her if she tried to kiss her right now?

Sansa blew out a sound of sheer frustration before turning and stomping about two steps before stilling. Her eyes widened as she took in the roaring rapids crashing down the mighty tributary, the great rolling, jagged snow-covered landscape, the towering trees, and craigs. The sun lit up the snow with glittering light. "We're near the headwaters of the White Knife."

"I almost crashed into here the first time I tried flying to see you from the Dreadfort. Which, yes, wildly wrong direction. But I figured the flying thing out." Daisy quietly did not mention the mountain that had a hole in it from her crashing into it. Her vibrations had kept her from splatting like a bug and that was all that mattered.

Sansa's voice was awed. "I've never traveled this far up the Knife before."

"It's beautiful, and I don't know…it kinda seemed like you needed out of Winterfell for a bit." Daisy could see the weight lifted from Sansa's shoulders at being away from court.

She laughed, light airy. "Thank you." Sansa's eyes turned to her. "Some warning before you just fly me away next time."

"Got it." Daisy gave a lazy salute.

Sansa's head tilted to one side slightly. "If you can fly with me like that, why do you insist on tying Jon to your back like a sack of potatoes?"

"At first I didn't have enough control to fly without using my arms." Daisy shrugged. "And if I want to hit the heights needed for going a long distance I have to put on more speed than I did for us. More speed, harder to hold on. Also, it's funny."

Shaking her head Sansa turned back to the river. "This will all be frozen soon."

"Probably." Daisy kicked at the snow which was already about a foot deep. "Yeah, moving an army through this is going to be actually terrible."

Sansa hummed. "We'll have to change from wheels to sled runners soon." She brushed her entirely windblown head of hair over her shoulder. "The days are getting shorter faster. By the end of the year the sun will no longer shine longer than a few hours a day. The darkness will be more dangerous than the snow to morale."

Daisy swallowed, it'd be so easy to keep the conversation going, to let them be sidetracked by the winter hellscape this place was going to turn into. Instead, she stepped forward taking Sansa's hand. "Sansa, we need to talk."

There was something weighted to the air then. Finally, Sansa turned back, her voice was thick. "Well then, let's speak of your leaving since it is much closer to being upon us."