A/N: Longclaw: Hey guys. New update just ahead of the Xmas season. Hope you like

Bruh: Whoa, it has been a long time. Sorry about that, I've had a lot going on.

Happy Holidays.

Hope you like this chapter though.

Enjoy.

Chapter 52: Intimate Moments

Humans were impatient people. If they could not see progress with their own eyes in the moment, rash action was often contemplated to speed up the process.

Rashness led to risk.

Risk led to failure.

Failure led to death or worse.

It was pathetic, really. They saw it as the providence of worse than mere animals - at least a wolf could wait in an ambush position for far longer than a human could. For them, matters of hours or days or weeks really mattered nothing. Like a blink in the fabric of their existence. They could wait patiently, and take stock in the slow but steady foundations of a plan millennia in the making.

Alone as usual in the physical realm, their serenity was disturbed as Sansa Stark entered the chamber. "Bran, may I talk to you?"

They replied back as Bran Stark would. "Is something the matter?"

"I received a letter from Jon… can I read it to you?"

"You may."

Sansa,

Forgive me for my lack of communication. There's been a lot happening that distracted my attention.

But I can tell you that I am well. Healthy if not in the best of physical condition, but that is my burden to bear, don't worry. You also need not worry about my safety on Dragonstone. Daenerys Targaryen now treats me with the greatest respect - she is not someone to fear or loathe, I promise.

Stannis has tasked me with finding peace and such is what I am doing every day. While the North has withdrawn to north of the Neck, I urge you to reach out to both King's Landing and Dragonstone. Travel here even to treat with Queen Daenerys in person. We need this peace, Sansa. With the threat coming we need it.

I hope we see each other soon.

Jon

Finishing it off, they noticed Sansa fold the letter and slip it into the folds of her cloak. Waiting patiently for their answer. "I'm not sure what you wish to be told," they finally said when she wouldn't break the silence.

Blinking, Sansa approached them. Kneeling beside the wheelchair. "Bran, I know you can see things if you wish - I can't understand it but I know. You saw Jon die… then you confirmed Arya in that he lived. There is no clarity anymore so I need you to tell me if he is free or a hostage of Stannis or Daenerys writing this under duress?"

Gazing listlessly at Bran Stark's sister, they decided to be honest. In a way. "Whatever he says is what he believes to be the truth."

"He believes?"

"I cannot discern people's motives as an observer, so it is up to you to do so with your best knowledge."

"Is Daenerys abusing him?"

Having witnessed what they did to each other in their solitude, they shook their head. "No. He is well cared for. I cannot say if he isn't being manipulated though. By the Stag or by the Dragon."

Sansa sighed. "Is that all you can tell me, Bran?"

They bore into her. "Yes, that is all." With that, Sansa leaned down to kiss their forehead, something that felt like nothing to them.

As she left her brother's chambers, Brienne caught her attention. "Have you gained any clarity, my Lady?"

Sighing, Sansa shook her head. "Seems that with every new day, his answers grow more and more cryptic and harder to interpret."

"Perhaps you should travel to the south yourself and meet with Daenerys Targaryen."

"No, I shall not leave the north until absolutely necessary." That was the end of that - Brienne didn't pry any further.

Thankfully, her duties were concluded for the day, so she headed to her chambers after bidding Brienne good night. A deep sigh left her lips, the acting-Lady of Winterfell deflating after such a stressful responsibility where she could finally simply be herself. "Rough day?" she heard from the bed.

Looking at Podrick, already in bed with nary but a candle granting him light, Sansa smiled. "You don't know the half of it."

"Seems all days are like that."

"Mmmm-hmmm." Sansa began to shuck off her dress and boots. Once something she felt unable to do even in front of her serving maids, now it was simply rote in front of him. Thanks to him. Gods, in spite of it all she was happy just because she had Podrick in her life.

A gem in the midst of all the muck.

"What is it this time?"

Now nude, Sansa went to the hearth and removed a log from the woodpile. Tossing it into the flames before stoking it with the poker. "Jon… we know he's alive, we know he was in Stannis' custody from what Arya told us, yet we just received confirmation that he is on Dragonstone with the Dragon Queen seeking peace in the Realm."

"I would think that is a good thing, peace."

"Yes, it would be, but I doubt it can be achieved. Too many competing interests." Satisfied with the heat of the fire, she quickly scurried to the bed and slid underneath the furs. Immediately pulled into an embrace, making her smile. "He urges me to make an accord with the Dragon Queen."

"Will you?"

"I'll… consider it. But the Dragon Queen must make the first move given what she did to the North."

"She's done nothing." He idly stroked her skin. Playing with her breasts as Podrick liked.

"Roasting thousands of our men is not nothing, Podrick. Our people will never accept her."

"I'm sure she will try to win their favor back. She has too," Podrick said.

"She won't have any luck, I'm afraid," Sansa huffed. "I certainly won't be quick to jump to her side. Stannis has been nothing but good to us. We have no reason to side with Daenerys."

"Perhaps you're right," Pod said.

With Jon clearly alive, she had no clue of what to make of previous reports of his death. "If Jon thinks her not the Mad Queen I'd trust him, yet there is still the matter of form and politics. Considering what her family did to us, she needs to be the one to make the first move." Sansa turned in his arms. "But let's not talk about this now."

They kissed firmly, languidly. Bodies flush against each other and begin the dance they were familiar with after so long. And yet… "Sansa…" Podrick pulled back. "Forgive me, but… I'm so tired."

She noticed it. Dark bags underneath his bloodshot eyes. Something was keeping him in pain just as it was her. "Alright," she said. "Let us rest."

He nodded. "First though, let me."

"Pod, rest."

"No, let me." Feeling how his fingers searched out her intimate places, mouth latching to her skin, Sansa marveled in how loved she finally felt…

In the middle of the night she woke, sleepy eyes blinking open and adjusting for the pitch blackness. Wait… why am I up…? She used to never sleep through the night with nightmares of Ramsay, but since Pod… her hands reached for him, but Sansa found his place in the bed empty. Nothing but bone cold sheets and mattress. Sitting up and sheathing herself with the sheet, Sansa saw the hearth had died out.

So that's why. Without her love or the fire, she was cold. "Strange," she spoke to no one in particular. Podrick usually stoked it when needed, yet he wasn't here.

Rising, Sansa grabbed her nightdress and slipped it on, followed by her warm woolen cloak. At once she felt better, though the fogging up of her breaths still belied an uncomfortable chamber.

On a whim, she looked out the window once before drifting away… only to rush back and stare at the courtyard. Covered in snow, the white granules still falling from the clouds above, the courtyard was deserted except for one figure. A lone man dressed in naught but a sleep tunic, simply walking slowly through the snowdrifts.

It was Podrick. "Pod!" she called out, heart pounding. "Pod!" He answered not, rather staggering out into the cold. Without hesitation Sansa slipped on a pair of felt boots and ran out the chamber. Guards on duty tried to call out for their Lady but she didn't care. He'll die out there if he stays longer.

What possessed him to do it, she had no clue. All Sansa knew was how it terrified her.

The outside slammed into Sansa, a biting breeze chilling her even with the warm cloak shrouding her body. The cold nipped at her nose and assaulted her ears and hands, while only her feet remained any sort of comfortable. Yet she still rushed to him. "Podrick, you fucking idiot, what are you…" Her berating died down when she turned him, seeing something altogether unexpected.

Her lover's eyes held none of the modest yet vibrant sparkle in them. Instead, they were dead. A glassed over stare not looking at anything in particular. Shaking him lightly, Sansa saw them shift in an instant to a milky white… then just as quickly to normal. Blinking, Podrick seemed to have reality restored on him. "Wha… wha…" The chill began to engulf the knight, and he started shivering. "San...san...sa. Where… am I?"

"In the courtyard of Winterfell," she answered, wrapping an arm around him and guiding him inside.

"Why… why am I here?" His teeth were chattering.

"Shhh…" Sansa tried to meld herself to his side. Give him some of her warmth. "Let's get you to the fire."

But he didn't seem to be listening to her, alternating between chattering and zoning out into space. "Sansa… I don't know… what's happening to me…"

They made it into the keep and already the temperature was better. "Don't talk, just rest." Sansa didn't want to overstress him in this condition.

"I… I wake sometimes… and it's like I lose track of time. I'm scared…"

"Likely just a nightmare, my love." She kissed his temple, feeling his skin starting to warm. "Let's get you by the fire, and then in the morning Wolkan can make sure you're healthy, alright?" He could only nod in return, making her smile softly at him.

Everywhere around them, yet nowhere around them, a pair of eyes was pleased with what was transpiring. So close to all the pieces falling into place.

A proper skill for the future.

Surrounded by her bloodriders, Daenerys felt alone. It was… a feeling she both had and hadn't had before. Growing up with just Viserys, not the most emotionally open person unless those emotions were anger or bitterness, she'd learned quite early to harden her heart and accept the lonely stature as a Targaryen Princess or Queen. Granted, Missandei and Jorah provided their welcome company - so too did Daario for a time - but all were her servants in the end. Not equal and therefore not ones she could simply open her heart to.

Jon Stark was different.

The last person she would've expected to worm his way into her affections. To love, and to be loved by. But she did. Daenerys loved him with every bit of herself and such left her in her present state. Heading for the small council chamber feeling slightly empty without him by her side.

Was that wrong?

Was it wrong that she didn't feel anything was wrong?

In the short time that they had been lovers, his protected loyalty and his sound thinking truly had vaulted to the most valued counsel she'd ever heard. Yes, Daenerys wanted him advising her. Wanted him by her side, openly her lover and her loyal general and Warden of the North. Give it time. Be patient.

Daenerys had no qualms acting on her own, it was just not something she wished anymore as she entered the chambers.

At once, the assembled councillors rose from their seats around the painted table. "Your Grace," they all said, pictures of deference. Daenerys studied them all. Barristan and Missandei looked concerned, while Tyrion was… as gloomy as he usually was these days. Garlan Tyrell and Theon were confused, seeming not to know the purpose of the meeting. If Varys felt anything, he gave none of it away.

A sigh. "Well, let's begin." She turned to Barristan. "I was informed of a meeting of the small council. Why did you call it?" Dany had been… in the middle of a comforting moment with Jon. She hoped her hair didn't show any signs of just how comforting it had been.

"It was not I that called the council, your Grace," stated Barristan.

Varys cleared his throat. "It was I." All eyes fell on him. "Forgive me for disturbing you in your personal moments." Daenerys raised her brow. How much do you know, Varys? But as always, he was unable to read. "There is much in whispers from King's Landing."

"Then tell me, what was so necessary to pull me at this late hour?"

"Stannis Baratheon is to be married."

Her lips pursed. "Oh?"

Varys nodded. "To Tyene Sand… I assume she is to be legitimized."

Her eyes widened. "Tyene… Tyene Sand?" The last remaining Sand Snake of the initial cadre of allies. Truthfully Arianne was far more competent and didn't suffer from legitimacy issues, but Ellaria and her brood were still allies and Euron's actions were ones she still meant to repay. "A forced marriage, no doubt."

It smelled of her and Drogo.

"Mayhaps, mayhaps not, but the situation is still thus. They are to be married and her his new Queen consort. A woman of clear youth and likely fertility."

"He's marrying a bastard girl?" Garlan laughed. "Oh, Stannis must be desperate… or besotted. Didn't expect it, cause he always had the carnal interest of a limp carrot." He laughed again at his jape. Most ignored him, though Daenerys did admit it was mildly amusing.

"So Stannis is to have a fresh heir, one not infected with greyscale or a girl." Tyrion snorted, chuckling.

Missandei's eyes glared at him. "And how are either an issue?"

"Because a male heir will legitimize him more… mayhaps give him the confidence to call off the peace negotiations," Tyrion replied. Seems you couldn't predict this, Stark.

"Then the dragons deliver fire and blood," announced Missandei, crossing her arms and firm. "Stannis wouldn't dare."

Barristan kept his hands in his hair. "Forget an heir, this is a disaster… Princess Arianne will never support us militarily if her cousin is the Queen consort of the Stag."

A dark pit formed in Dany's stomach. Losing Arianne and her Dornish allies - the only Westerosi Kingdom that had been with her through the entire war - would be a disaster. Losing all the improved negotiating position that Grey Worm's victory had brought her and then some. "Will Arianne switch sides?"

"I doubt it." Varys gave his opinion. "There is no reason for her to switch sides normally, and this… I cannot be sure, but the whispers of Sunspear being committed to our cause prior to this makes me inclined to believe she will simply no longer provide soldiers to your effort."

Daenerys sighed. "I cannot stop this marriage, can I?"

"Lest you use your dragons… and then all efforts at peace would be dashed."

"I must talk to Lord Stark on this." A soft, yet audible snort came from Tyrion, catching Dany's attention. "Something the matter, Lord Tyrion?"

Silent for a moment, finally Tyrion settled his gaze on Dany. "Aye, talk to Lord Stark on this. Quite true."

Her eyes widened momentarily before they narrowed. "Watch yourself, my Lord."

"I mean no disrespect to the man," Tyrion said, raising his hands. "I'm just not sure why you'd rather confer with him instead of us. Your loyal advisors?"

"Stark is still aligned with Stannis, Your Grace," Barristan pointed out.

"Do you think he knows something?" Garlan asked. "Even if he did, would he tell you?"

Dany huffed, slightly annoyed, "Jon Stark knows Stannis better than any of us. It's possible he may have useful information."

"Yes, it's possible he may have known they were to be married all along," Tyrion said. "Knowing that coming here makes all the more sense. Stannis marrying Tyene cuts the Dornish off from us. Putting you in a weaker position. Possibly making you even more likely to be convinced of a ceasefire with Stannis."

Barristan's eyes narrowed, "Your Grace if that's true…"

"We don't know it to be," Dany cut in, rather curtly. "This conversation is merely assumptions."

"Well, Your Grace, assumptions or not," Varys began. "It does make sense."

Dany raked her brain, turning away, wondering the possibility of it all. It seemed so impossible to her. "We don't know for sure."

The room grew quiet with Dany reserving herself. Tyrion and Varys shared a look. Seeing Dany seemingly fairly distressed at the notion of Jon's intentions not being rather noble confirmed their suspicions. At the very least, she had a deeper affection for him. Definitely deeper than the platonic nature typically required for a situation like this.

"If Stark knew that Tyene was going to be married to Stannis before coming here then that has to change things," Tyrion added. "If he didn't know before he landed here, Stannis certainly could've told him with one of those ravens he receives."

"What does him knowing even change?" Missandei asked the room. "Whether or not he knew doesn't change the fact that he came here willingly to broker peace."

"Jon Stark came here seemingly with good intentions," Varys said. "He acted like he was someone we could trust. Or should try to, at least. However, if he hid from us the knowledge that Tyene was to be married to Stannis… What else is he hiding?"

"Could he have been lying to us all along?" Tyrion mused. "His ravens to Stannis could just be full of our secrets he's learned. Or perhaps the best way to infiltrate the castle."

"These claims have no bounds, no evidence," Daenerys told them firmly. "They are baseless."

"How could we ever know for sure?" Barristan inquired, stroking his chin.

"Well, why don't we just ask him?" Varys said, plainly.

"Ah, straight to the point, Lord Varys," Tyrion nodded. "I like that. Where is Jon Stark now?"

When no one answered, they all looked to Daenerys. "Last I heard he was writing another ravenscroll in his chambers," she said, drawing a near scoff from Tyrion. Narrowing her eyes but deciding to ignore it, she ordered the two Unsullied standing by the door to go retrieve him.

After what seemed like hours of awkward silence, the man in question arrived sandwiched between the two Unsullied. "Your Grace, my Lords… and Lady," he offered to Missandei.

Just being in his presence calmed Daenerys a bit. "Lord Stark," she replied in her Queenly voice. "Some information has been made known to myself and the small council that we would like to inquire to you about."

Brow raised in slight confusion, Jon stepped closer to her - Missandei shifting over to allow him space at her side opposite Barristan. Something all noticed with either curiosity or displeasure. "I do not believe I left anything out. Negotiations require a level of trust and candor I have found."

"Candor, you speak of, Lord Stark - as if you are your father Lord Eddard," Tyrion uttered rather sharply.

Jon narrowed his eyes at Tyrion. "Are you trying to accuse me of something, Imp?"

Before any could respond, Daenerys met his eyes. 'Jon,' she mouthed, gaining his attention. "Lord Stark, have you deliberately failed to disclose the betrothal between Stannis and Tyene Sand?"

Blinking, it became clear at that moment that either Jon was a far greater liar than anyone Daenerys had ever known other than Varys… or her initial trust in him had been warranted. "I know no one named Tyene Sand. Who is she?"

"She was the daughter of Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand, the former of which…"

"The one the Mountain killed in a trial by combat," Jon finished. "Aye, I'm aware of him. So his daughter? Was she the one that brought Dorne to your cause?"

"Initially Lady Ellaria, her sisters, and her, yes. She has been betrothed officially to Stannis."

Jon gaped. "Stannis is marrying her?"

"A Dornish bastard, aye," Tyrion stated, a manner that Daenerys felt was him deliberately picking words. "Something quite difficult for us to imagine Stannis doing unless he was planning some intricate political strategy of which you are a part of."

"Allegedly a part of," Missandei added, defending Jon.

Almost… desperate in his own way - Daenerys had long since become an expert in reading him, or at least somewhat of an expert - Jon turned to her. "Your Grace, I can assure you that I have no idea of this."

Daenerys believed him. "I am inclined to believe you, Lord Stark," she stated outright. "But my council holds a more skeptical attitude, unfortunately."

"Forgive us if we find some skepticism, though," Barristan said. "These matters… they are not ones to occur this quickly."

"I was imprisoned in the Red Keep for all but the last few days of my stay there. Stannis wasn't inclined to be candid with his romantic life."

Tyrion snorted. "You were the one he sent to negotiate with our Queen, so don't try and fool us, Lord Stark. Mayhaps Lord Eddard would've been this naive, yet you are not." He crossed his arms. "And the fact you have begun an affair with Queen Daenerys makes us less inclined to trust you."

Growing tense, Daenerys' head jerked in Tyrion's direction. "You are out of line," she finally hissed.

"I may be, but that doesn't make what I've said false."

"Excuse me," Barristan gaped. "An affair? The two of you?" Around him Missandei was nervous, Garlan seemed bored, while Theon's eyes widened and stared at Jon. As for Jon, his only glance was upon Daenerys. "Your Grace?"

A myriad of emotions crossed Jon's face from Daenerys' view. Surprise, anger, caution… and finally once glancing at her, quiet confidence. "So they found out, then?"

Daenerys sighed. There was no denying it. "Yes, they did, though I'm not sure for how long." She glared at Tyrion and Varys.

Varys spoke up before Tyrion could. "It was our perception that certain behaviors between the two of you created the assumption that you two were engaged in a sexual affair," Varys said. "So, it was I that sent the handmaid to call for you, My Queen."

Dany drew silent, her eyes widened. Her displeasure was so high her brain failed to comprehend it. Feeling totally betrayed, she shot up from her seat. No one dared speak. Varys prepared himself to be berated but it didn't come. In truth, Dany was so furious that she couldn't form words.

Varys raised his hands in surrender, at least using this chance to defend himself though. "Before you set the dragons on me… Allow me to defend myself?"

Her eyes didn't move from Varys, though she could especially feel Jon's cool gaze on her. Even though she didn't physically see him. While the desire to send him away to at least the cells rested heavily on her mind. Out of nowhere, she thought of Aemon. She knew that he wouldn't want her to act carelessly in rage. She imagined him saying something like, "Calm yourself, child, allow yourself a second to breathe before you act."

In response, she merely sat back down. Her rage had subsided a bit, but nowhere near dissipated. She would hear him out. Giving Varys a small nod.

"Lord Stark… you do not deny that you are an envoy of the avowed opponent of her Grace - one who is currently engaged in a war with her for the Iron Throne."

"Such is an eventuality that I seek to prevent, Lord Varys," Jon answered without missing a beat. Refusing to step away from Daenerys, whom he stood close to. She… was heartened by such so much that it surprised her. "Yet, it is true that Stannis appointed me to act as his arbitrator with you, yes."

"A very odd position for you to claim. A neutral observer, yet having been the right-hand man for Stannis from his arrival at Castle Black to when her Grace defeated you near Duskendale… which adds another layer of concern given what occurred to you while in her custody."

He didn't react. "If you think I blame her Grace for what Daario Naharis did then you are mistaken. As far as I'm concerned, she is blameless."

Tyrion, naturally, was still skeptical. "No one believes that, Lord Stark."

"It is the truth, Lord Tyrion." They glared at each other.

"Regardless," resumed Varys. "The close eye on you was warranted, given all you represented - and how close you and her Grace have been since you were a prisoner here."

Thinking on it, Daenerys truly wished to at least discipline Varys for what he did… but was it treason? Daario's definitely was in spite of being in his view 'for her,' yet Varys hadn't done anything but keep tabs on Jon's whereabouts. A far… stickier area. "We will discuss your role later, Lord Varys," she finally said, kicking the can down the road.

"Quite fair, but mayhaps we should hear this story from you."

Daenerys nodded. "It is true, Jon Stark and I have been engaged in a sexual affair." She moved to take his hands in his, though resolved not to disclose any of the feelings involved. "It began upon his arrival here the second time and continues to this day."

Tyrion covered his face with his hands, hearing Daenerys admit it completely. He shook his head, dragging his hands away. "Truly, Your Grace, this a disgrace. A total disgrace."

Barristan spoke up, "My Queen, you know I am always quick to defend you. However, I must insist that this improper relationship ends."

"It's a lack of judgment, to be frank," Varys added. "Jon Stark is not our ally. Regardless of his current neutrality - if we choose to accept his word on it - he was a close confidant of our greatest enemy, Stannis Baratheon. And yet, you willfully engaged in a sexual affair."

"Frankly, while your advice is candid and I appreciate that, I do not care," Daenerys replied simply. "I am Queen. I can do what I wish."

"Yes, you are," Tyrion said, near seething. "But you've made a mistake. We cannot allow you to continue to make it."

Daenerys scoffed, "'We cannot allow?' What is it exactly you think you can do? You have no power here. My soldiers will not listen to you. You cannot make me do anything."

"I'm not sure who you three think you're talking to," Missandei piped up.

Jon released Dany's hand, stepping to the side, "I understand why you all are upset. Honestly, what has happened between Daenerys and I simply just happened. It was organic. There was an underlying feeling between us that had existed prior, but given the situation being as it was we simply didn't recognize it." He cast her a look, one where only Dany could notice the tenderness in his gaze. "So, when I returned here, it just fell into place."

"Well, that's just a lovely story, Stark," Tyrion said, dryly. "Mayhaps you among all of us have the best story, but that doesn't level out any of our suspicions of you."

"Even now, as you say," Varys began. "There were feelings before your return? If that's true…" He grew quiet, but only for a moment. "It could be assumed you told Stannis this. He would've then asked you if could gain the affections of her. With the purpose of manipulating her into doing… Well, I can't even imagine."

"That's just not true," Jon retorted, not intending to betray his confidences with Daenerys. "My purposes for coming here were just as I said. For peace."

"It sounds like to me that you returned here for the opposite reason, Stark," Tyrion said. "You came here to sow discourse." He raised his hands. "And look, you've already succeeded. Look at us, infighting… and for what?"

"This is ridiculous," Dany sighed, stepping away from the table, turning her back to them. "As far as I can see, you're the only ones causing any infighting. You're the only ones sewing discourse."

The Imp shook his head. "You are truthful in one respect, your Grace, this is ridiculous," Tyrion said. "So, put an end to it. Let's get back on track. Our attention has been away from our goal for far too long."

"Send Jon Stark away," Varys said. "We can still sue for peace. If that's what you truly want. Though it is probably needless."

"On what grounds?" Missandei asked, aghast. "You have thrown around baseless unfounded notions. How does that mean that Jon Stark is the problem? Wouldn't sending him away only antagonize Stannis Baratheon even further?" A freed slave she might have been, intelligent and associating quite closely with both Daenerys and her past owners while they conducted political deals left her with sizable knowledge of statecraft. "Your Grace is right. The two of you have been the only ones to cause trouble."

Tyrion and Varys stared at Missandei with a sort of disbelief. It was Barristan who spoke up for them, "In my opinion, Jon Stark has merely been a distraction - not a threat or malicious even in this, but a distraction nonetheless. I still think a peace treaty is pointless. We could take the capital in a day if we wanted."

"Finally, someone speaks some sense," Garlan said. "I don't mean to intrude, Your Grace. I certainly am not as informed on the situation as the rest of you. But I agree with them."

"A siege even," Barristan added. "If you want to keep the loss of life to a minimum that's a good way to do it."

"Yes, Your Grace, a siege," Garlan said. "What if–"

"Garlan Tyrell," Dany cut in. "That is enough out of you."

"Sorry, Your Grace…" Garlan sank down.

"Well," Tyrion sighed. "I think at this point, we should agree there should be some distance… Between the two of you."

Dany scoffed but Varys added, "We are a united front on this, Your Grace."

"A united front against me in my own small council," Dany shook her head. "Laughable… if it weren't so dangerous. Those that lived through the doings of Daario Naharis should remember the dangers of thinking they know what is better for me than myself."

"Ah, well, if we were like Daario Naharis then we might've just tried to kill Jon Stark without even having this meeting," Tyrion said.

As both he and the Queen tensed, Barristan interjected. "Enough of that, Lord Tyrion. Comments such as those do not help matters one bit." Tyrion glowered but nodded.

"Might I add," Varys raised a finger. "Daario Naharis was a fool. However, in intention, he only wanted to help you."

"Oh, yes, killing me. That helped the situation so much," Jon said, plainly.

"You all…" Dany began, gesturing to all of them. "Have helped quite enough. For the most part, your advice has been lacking. I've done nothing." She moved left, going around closer to Tyrion and Varys. "If your strategic advice is falling short, why would anything you tell me about my intimate affairs be useful?"

"I wouldn't classify advising against intimate affairs with an enemy–"

Dany pointed at Jon, "He is not an enemy. A foe once, but nearly all my problems since landing here have been because you only sought to paint him as such."

Tyrion scoffed. "It was I that sought him as an ally initially when he was but a prisoner taken in battle. Only now do I worry since the first thing he has done is seduce you into his bed."

Snorting, Jon leaned forward. "If you claim to have known my father, Lord Tyrion, do you believe I have the capacity of 'seducing' anyone?"

"I cannot doubt the ability of anyone to do anything if it suits them, Lord Stark."

Gazing once at Dany, mind whirring at a quick speed, Jon hoped she would not hold affront. But he knew it could only come from him. "I did not seek out Queen Daenerys to be my lover. It just happened. I've been alone for so long that it wasn't till I joined with her that I felt somewhat whole again." He heard Daenerys' breath hitch ever so slightly - a joyful emotion. The joy was mirrored in Missandei and… even in Barristan to an extent. "But I am still an arbiter of peace and cannot have her council think of me any less or her any less."

"What are you saying, Lord Stark?" Missandei asked.

He sighed. "While I refuse to give up her company, I will… forswear any more intimate actions with her Grace until after a peace has been declared. Such is my commitment, and I hope my past honor shall serve as my bond."

"Hmm…" Tyrion exhaled. "Stark honor. Your father's honor meant a lot to him. His word was everything. Did he ever break a promise?"

"Not on purpose," Jon said. Ned promising to talk about his mother right before leaving for King's Landing came to mind. That promise was broken. But not because Ned couldn't keep it. "Like my father, my word is my bond. I do not break my word."

Tyrion narrowed his gaze at Jon. He sensed Jon meant what he said. "You keep that promise, Stark."

"I think that would be best, Your Grace," Barristan added. "At least for now."

"I agree," Varys said.

"But what do you say, Your Grace?" Jon asked Dany. He hadn't noticed she had been looking at him before. Her countenance was one of sorrow. Not so much everyone would notice. But he did. He knew that she wouldn't be happy with that arrangement. But neither was he.

She sighed, "I do not agree. However, if it gains me some peace, in my own council. We will keep to it, though only since I shall not either dispense with your company."

In truth, not a promise either of them thought they could keep. It would be rather difficult.

Pursing her lips in annoyance and… simple frustration, the sudden throwing open of the door nearly caused Sansa to leap out of her chair. In the end, who did it wasn't a shock. "Gods, Arya. Can't you knock?"

Her little sister merely shrugged. "Never used to do it, so why did you expect me to change?"

"Cheeky, just like Robb." It ultimately brought a tiny smile to her face once her heart eased up enough. "Still, I'd appreciate it if you just entered a little less… abruptly."

By now, Arya plopped down into a chair across from her. "You summoned me, oh wise Lady of Winterfell. It was important to tear me away from sparring with Gendry, so lay it on me. Stannis dead? Daenerys Targaryen landing at White Harbor? Jon asked you to marry him?"

"What? Ummm… no… You're impossible."

Arya smirked. "Still got it."

"Seems you do." Sansa could banter back and forth with Arya all day - in fact she liked it, reminding her of a simpler time that she hadn't truly appreciated till it came crashing down in a hail of steel and screams - but she couldn't afford to lose herself in the past. So, sighing, she gestured to the letter on her desk. "Raven from King's Landing. Littlefinger."

Her sister's eyes widened, then grew serious. "What does that insect want?"

"First few lines are all rote shit, namely that King Stannis is marrying one of Oberyn Martell's bastards."

"Oh? The Red Viper's girl? I thought the Greyjoys slaughtered them all after they sided with the Dragon Queen?"

"One of them survived apparently."

Arya shook her head, laughing. "The Dragon Queen is not going to like this…" then she winced. "Neither is Jon, I suspect."

No, Jon wouldn't… Sansa could only think that Daenerys could see it as a betrayal in that Stannis was taking out one of her most valuable allies with a marriage instead of a slaughter - as if Robb had married Myrcella in the eyes of Stannis or Renly. But this was her brother and she was grievously worried. Which brought her back to… "Littlefinger addresses that. He says he worries that Jon will not convince the Dragon Queen of peace unless Stannis' position is bolstered. As such, he's seeking to renew the North's allegiance."

"Fuck him. We're fine on our own."

"I would say that too, Arya, but we're close to starving. Like it or not we need the Seven Kingdoms… or the Dragon Queen. Daenerys' gift of foodstuffs is all that's keeping us going."

"She's still sending 'em?" At Sansa's nod, Arya whistled. "She must really love Jon, then."

Sansa blinked. "You told me that he loved her, from what you saw."

"I could tell. Our brother fell hard. It was shocking, trust me."

"No doubt, but do you think she loves him?"

"Never met her, but it's not out of the realm of possibility. He's… a good catch. Daenerys Targaryen would be lucky to call him her lover no matter what anyone says of her."

Chuckling, Sansa couldn't help but admire Arya defending Jon's virtues yet again - something she wished she had done more of in her childhood. "Regardless, I've been debating whether I should go south… or at least send someone to negotiate with Daenerys… and Stannis." She added.

On that, Arya was truly surprised. "You want to?"

"I really don't want to leave the North, but I think it is a smart thing to do."

"I could go."

"No, you've been gone too long from home."

"Let me, I'm good at it."

Another sigh - stubborn, impulsive Arya as always. "Just… tell me. Is it worth it to open trust to the Dragon Queen given what her father did to our family, or what she did to Jon."

She shrugged. "What I think doesn't matter since I never met her. Jon did - he suffered the most of anyone who isn't already dead at her hands, and if he loves her then he clearly saw something that we don't. Just take it into account."

Her words echoing in Sansa's mind, they replayed over and over as she walked down the torchlit hallways towards her chambers. Do I trust Jon to judge properly… or is he like any other man that thinks with his cock? The rumors were that Daenerys Targaryen was utterly beautiful, and if Jon was a functioning male then he would think so to some extent, but… She couldn't be sure. All Sansa knew was that for Jon, nothing was more important than the North or the fight against the dead men he said were coming. The Others. Of this, it could be more likely than not that his feelings for the Dragon Queen were genuine.

More and more, she was inclined to trust him and send out the feelers… with enough to Littlefinger in order to ply him off…

"Heading to bed, my Lady?"

It was Brienne, so Sansa smiled. "Aye, you?"

"No, I have guard duty tonight. I'll be in the privy for a bit, though, but Pod is there and I think he's good enough with the sword after so long at training." Both ladies chuckled at that. "I'm glad he's been there for you."

Sansa's smile widened. "Aye, as am I." They passed by each other, Sansa sparing one last look at her sworn shield before heading to her chambers - desperate to be held by her love as he did every night.

But upon entering, a gently snoring Podrick or patiently waiting Podrick wasn't whom she found. Instead he was standing by the hearth, gazing into it. Still as a stone.

Her brows knotted in confusion. "Pod?" No answer. Is he in one of his dazes again? Her beloved hadn't been in one since that night, and she hoped…

"I worry."

She stilled as he abruptly spoke, voice hollow and without emotion. "Worry of what?"

"Worry of you." He didn't make to look at her, simply staring further at the flames flickering in the hearth. "That you might die… by the hand of an assassin."

A sigh. "I worry sometimes on that as well, but…"

"Your sister is an assassin."

"What, Arya?" Sansa laughed awkwardly. "Oh, she would never hurt me."

"Do not be so sure."

Knotting her brows, Sansa approached Pod. "What are you…" He finally turned, face expressionless but holding a knife. "Pod, why do you have a knife…"

"You must be afraid too." It was as if he didn't even hear her. "Afraid of your sister, or why else would you bring Sandor Clegane? He's a renowned warrior. You think he can protect you better than me?"

"What? No."

"What about Brienne? Is she strong enough?"

Stepping back, Sansa was incredulous. "Pod, what are you talking about? No, Arya isn't a threat but yes, having the Hound and Brienne around would protect me… I don't see why you need to bring this up." All of this was so sudden it… completely shocked her. Not to mention Sansa's eyes kept flickering to the knife.

"I see. So if it was me on that day those men cornered you in King's Landing, I wouldn't have been enough?"

Eyes widening, Sansa took another step back. Face going pale. "Who… who told you of that?" Even to him, she never explained what had happened when Sandor had saved her in King's Landing. "Why in seven hells would you bring that up?"

"Do you want the Hound to protect you now?"

"Pod, is something wrong?"

"Am I not enough for you, Sansa?"

"What… no." Gods, her mind was swimming, her lover shifting from one mood to another and from one topic to another, as if his mind was shattered. And then she gasped, watching him take the knife. "Podrick, stop!" He cut along his arm. A shallow cut, but one that allowed a trickle of blood to drip on the floor. "Stop!" But as she moved to stop him, Podrick shoved her back.

"Back away." He stopped, but his eyes stared intensely at her. Menacingly, enough to frighten her. "You know, Sansa, there are things even the great big Hound can't protect you from."

"Pod, you're scaring me," Sansa whispered. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I've just came to my fucking senses," Podrick growled. "What a mistake I made getting with you. You're weak." Before she could reply, he lashed out, striking her and sending her sprawling. "See, weak."

There was no time for screams, or for tears. All other times she had been assaulted or brutalized, it had been expected from brutes or monsters… but now, never did she expect Podrick to do this. "Pod…" she managed to gasp, only to see the blade shimmering in the low firelight. Podrick kept walking towards her, knife outstretched to her. Sansa held her hands up, utterly terrified. "Pod, don't do this… I love you… Please," Sansa begged, tears arriving.

"I have to. I must. You're just a waste of skin," Podrick replied. "Dumb bitch." Podrick's presence forced her into the corner of the room by the bed.

"I don't understand," Sansa said, tears streaming now. "Was nothing we had real?"

Podrick chuckled dryly, "None of it. I always hated you."

"That doesn't make any sense," Sansa shook her head. This wasn't him… it couldn't be… "You love me. I know you do. You're… You're sick, Pod. Put the knife down and we can figure this out."

"I only want to kill you, Sansa," Pod said. "Just let it happen. You deserve it."

Suddenly, Brienne busted through the door, sword drawn, "Sansa!?" She froze at the sight. Podrick levels a fist into Sansa's face on top of the bed. "Podrick! What are you doing?" When she stepped forward, Pod picked up Sansa. He backed up, now holding his knife to her throat.

Sansa appeared dazed from the blow to the head, "Brienne… Don't…"

"Podrick," Brienne said. "Put the knife down."

Podrick sighed, "You're not supposed to be here."

"Leave Sansa alone, Podrick. What are you doing!?"

"I plan on killing her actually," Pod said, matter-of-factly.

"What?!" Brienne gasped, putting both hands on her sword.

"Listen to me, Brienne," Podrick back up further. "You come any closer, I'm gonna slash her throat. Actually, toss that fucking sword or I'll do it right now."

"I don't understand, Podrick. What has gotten into you?"

"Enlightenment."

Sansa began to wrestle against Podrick, "Stop this, Pod. Now."

Podrick tightened his grip on her, the knife pressing even closer to her neck, "Stop fucking moving, bitch. You cut your own throat."

Brienne inched ever closer, "You need to drop that knife, Podrick."

"Fuck you, Brienne," Pod replied. "You drop that sword. Or I'm goin' to force you to break your oath to Lady Catelyn by ending Sansa right now."

Brienne huffed, glancing at the open door, wondering why no other guardsmen had appeared by now. She did throw her sword to her right, hoping the clang against the stone floor would cascade throughout the castle. "There. Now, let's just take this easy."

"I'm terrified, Brienne," Sansa said.

"It's going to be alright, Lady Sansa," Brienne told her.

"Oh, no, it's not," Podrick said, smirking. "It most certainly will not be alright. There's still blood to be shed."

"There doesn't have to be. Just let me go, Pod," Sansa pleaded. "Please don't do this."

"Listen to her, Podrick."

"What you gonna do, Brienne? You're gonna have to kill me to protect her," Pod laughed. "Can you do that?"

Brienne clenched her fists, "Please don't make me."

Sansa's tears soaked her face, "Podrick, please."

"Both of you shut it! Enough talk," Podrick snarled. He moved his knife hand away, raising it up to bring it back down. Sansa noticed this. Her instincts kicked in. She began to wrestle again. She elbowed Podrick's ribs, which was enough to loosen his grip on her. Brienne planned to use this window. She bolted forward, throwing a shoulder into Pod's chest, taking them both to the ground, knocking Sansa to the side. Pod lost grip of the knife, but it didn't go far. On his back, he reached for it. Brienne saw this and reached for it as well. They fought for it.

Sansa was knocked aside with so much force from Brienne her head hit the ground, knocking her unconscious.

"Podrick! Stop this!" Brienne yelled.

Pod held the knife with one hand, but Brienne held his arm down. She tried desperately to get his fingers off of the knife. Podrick started to punch at Brienne with his other hand. Some blows missed. Some glanced against her armor. The next punch got lucky connecting with Brienne's nose. Pod put enough force behind it to break her nose, blood leaked out.

"Ah!" Brienne groaned. The punch froze her.

Podrick managed to free the hand with the knife. Quickly, he located a gap in her armor on her lower right side, right above the hip, jabbing the knife in there. He felt it dig in deep. He watched Brienne's face twist with pain. With her completely shaken, he threw another punch to her face to get him off of him. Brienne fell flat on her back. Her hand went to her wound, finding it spilling with blood.

Podrick rose to his feet, "I put that armor on you enough times to know where the chinks in it are." He walked over to Sansa, still out cold. "Oh, you have to be awake for this. I want to hear your screams." He lifted her back on the bed. With the back of his hand, he slapped her twice.

The shock did force her to awaken. As soon as she opened her eyes, she screamed, "No! No!"

"Whoa," Podrick laughed, then slapped her again to quiet her, holding a hand around her neck. "Not quite that loud. I don't know how much more time we have together, Darling. Don't want the whole castle waking up just yet."

Brienne rolled over onto her knees, her blood had spilled to the ground, "Podrick… Don't do this."

"We are all-powerful," Podrick laughed. "This is what must happen." He raised his knife hand high up.

Time slowed to crawl for Brienne as she watched. Sansa was in lethal danger. The knife slowly moved down to her. Hallowed words rang out in her mind, "I offer my services… I will shield your back… Give my life for yours if need be…" A renewed strength filled her. Podrick still moved slowly but she moved faster. She rose to her feet. The pain from her stab wound all but disappeared. She grabbed Pod by the shoulders, with all her strength she threw him off of Sansa. Podrick hit the wall behind them, falling to the ground.

Podrick gasped for air, vacating his lungs after hitting the wall. Totally confused, "What? How?"

Brienne checked on Sansa, "Are you alright, My Lady?"

"Yes, barely," Sansa scratched out.

Podrick got to his feet, having dropped the knife. He picked it back up. "This is not over."

Hearing him, Brienne quickly located her sword. She stood in front of Sansa, pointing her blade at Podrick. "It's over, Podrick."

"It's not over till she's dead!" Podrick said, pointing the knife at her.

"Podrick!" Sansa yelled.

"Don't make me do this," Brienne whispered, hands tightening around Oathkeeper.

Podrick bellowed, running straight at them, knife held high. Brienne acted quickly, using a lateral slash to cut Pod's hand with the knife, severing fingers. Then, to end it all, she pushed Oathkeeper straight through his chest and out the other side. Podrick stiffened, limbs going limp. His eyes went wide.

Sansa covered her mouth, stifling her cries. Through gritted teeth, Brienne started to sob. They watched Podrick's eyes suddenly wash over a pale white. But only for a moment, then they returned to normal. His body trembled, head hanging, then he gasped. His head flew back up. His face now showed complete fear and confusion.

Brienne withdrew her blade, as a result, Pod's body fumbled to the ground. Sansa went to his side, holding his head in her lap. Podrick started to wheeze and gasp, his hands patting his bloody chest. "What…" he muttered.

"Oh… Pod," Sansa wept, tears falling onto his hair.

Hearing her voice he looked up at her, he managed a small smile. "Sansa…"

Watching this, Brienne dropped to her knees, her sword falling from her grip. Unable to form words, she just shook her head, shaking with emotion.

Slowly, Podrick raised his hand up to Sansa's face. His thumb brushed over her cheek softly. Sansa rested her forehead against his. "I love you," she said. "So much."

"Sansa… Sansa…" Podrick felt the darkness closing in, his hand fell back down. But his eyes watched Sansa closely.

She held his face with both her hands. "Don't go, Pod. Please," she cried.

Podrick smiled one more time at her before time stopped completely for him. The pain was gone but leaving her hurt far more than being stabbed. His last thoughts were something about how beautiful she was.

Brienne fell to her side, her body reminding her she'd been stuck with a knife. The pain was so great she passed out.

Noticing he was truly gone, Sansa wailed toward the sky.

A/N: Bruh: RIP Podrick Payne.

I think it can be inferred what may have happened there. If you don't know then perhaps you haven't been playing attention. Y'all are smart so I'd bet it was clear enough. That was a moment we've planned for since quite a while now.

This chapter was pretty long too which was another reason why it took a long time. Originally, it was supposed to have an extra section. But the sections we already had ballooned to hard we pushed it. The point is these chapters are getting more complex to write which will take us more time. However, I'm free for Christmas so perhaps we can work more effectively.

Longclaw: Yep, that happened.

I can put to rest any claim that Jon is giving up Dany, and who thinks they will be able to keep away from each other? Anyone?

Until next time.