Chapter 70Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextHogg hurriedly knocked on the door to the Queen's private solar. He ignored the curious look the Cranoman royal guard was giving him. But the man didn't try to stop him. His foot tapped anxiously as he waited for permission to enter. The second he heard the faint 'enter' he was opening the door and walked in. He bowed. "Your Grace."
"What's happened?" Sansa's voice was sharp.
He held out the package of letters he'd just received from the men he'd sent to handle the Forrester issue. "Lord Forrester is a week away from returning."
"Are any of the Whitehills still alive?" Sansa took the package, opened it and flicked through the collection of reports, clearly already guessing what the contents of those reports were.
Hogg swallowed. "Gwyn Whitehill and Lord Whitehill were taken alive."
"No doubt so I'll chop their heads off for Lord Forrester." Her voice was bitter. Sansa began to read the reports.
Hogg waited anxiously, after all, he knew what was in them. Other than a certain tightness there was little expression on her face. As she finally finished and set the reports aside, he risked clearing his throat. "Orders, your Grace?"
Sansa didn't reply immediately. But finally, she looked at him. "Markas Woolfield is still inside Winterfell, yes?"
He blinked. "Er…yes?"
"Fetch him, now." She swallowed. "And I need a party of twenty of your men ready to be in the saddle and to depart Winterfell before dawn."
He didn't need to understand, he just gave a quick bow, and darted out the door.
Hogg led a blurry eyed Markas Woolfied to the Queen's solar, this time he didn't wait to be told to enter. Instead, he just knocked and then quickly hauled the very confused noble in. There was no way they wanted a lot of people to see this. He hadn't ensured nobody saw them getting up here other than royal guards for nothing. He bowed quickly as the door closed. "Your Grace."
"That was prompt, thank you, Hogg." Sansa was writing something at her desk, her quill moving with a fluid grace that he found baffling.
Markas straightened from the matching bow he'd fallen into. "Do you need something of me, your Grace?"
"Yes." Sansa paused, her eyes flicking to the door.
Hogg spun, his hand falling to his sword as every hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He swallowed thickly as he saw the newest Stark returned home slip through the door. Where her sister was all strength and elegance, Princess Arya was all shadow and sharpness. Every instinct in his body screamed that she was dangerous. Which was ridiculous, he was a follower of a god of ruin! A tiny slip of a girl shouldn't unsettle him so much.
Still, it was plain to all Arya Stark had not lived the life of a tortured prisoner in a gilded cage like her sister. Whatever had happened to her had been very different. Her short stature compared to her taller siblings said starvation. The way she never came within arms reach of anyone said violence done to her. The way she moved reminded him of Daisy if only slightly.
Arya's voice was sharp. "Strange men in your private rooms?"
"Reports of the Whitehill and Forrester conflict finally arrived." Sansa replied offering out the reports to her sister.
And Arya's eyes were sharper than her voice as she half melted into the shadows behind her sister.
Sansa spoke as if her sister hadn't interrupted. "Woolfield, thank you for coming."
"Your Grace…if this is about the Forresters how could I be of service? We have almost no dealings with them or the Whitehills."
She gazed at Markas. "You're unmarried, yes?"
"Aye?" Markas looked distinctly uneasy.
"Then I have a favor to ask of you, one that you are permitted to turn down with no repercussions if you do so." Sansa's chin was high an unbearable nobility to her. "Any Whitehill who crosses the threshold of Winterfell will be executed as a traitor. I implied that and I will hold to my word. However, Gwyn Whitehill is innocent of treason and merely held her home. And I do not appreciate having my hand forced as Lord Forrester has done."
Markas blinked. "So you want me to…marry her?"
"Yes. If she's a Woolfield she can keep her head." Sansa explained.
Hogg was more concerned about what Lord Forester was facing when he arrived at Winterfell. Angering their Queen seemed suicidal to him.
Markas shifted somewhat awkwardly. "That is very kind of you, but I'm a third son, my brother has an heir already. I have no lands of my own to offer a wife."
"If you do this, I would award you one of the minor knightley keeps on what was formerly Karstark land. The income and lands associated with that keep as well, naturally. I would also provide a bride price of a thousand silver stags, and give you command of the men I intend to further secure the eastern coast." She offered, and it was a lot.
Markas's jaw snapped shut, and he nodded. "What do I need to do?"
"You will go with the men Hogg has assembled with this." She handed him a letter with the royal seal prominently on display. "You will intercept Lord Forester and his returning party and give that to him. You will then take Gywn into your protection and escort her towards Winterfell. Before you arrive, find a gods' wood and marry. If she refuses to wed you…I leave it to your discretion. However, if she still bears the name Whitehill I will remove her head."
Markas accepted the weighty letter. "May I bring my own men with us?"
"You may. Hogg will fetch you from your quarters to depart before dawn. Be ready." She instructed easily before her attention turned to Hogg. "Once you've taken care of that, rest. Please, thank you for bringing this to me."
Hogg bowed. "You're Grace." He got why her Holiness held their Queen in such high esteem.
////
Arya's eyes flicked to her sister as the loud noble idiot and the loyal twitchy one left. "So, Forrester turned against you?"
"No." Sansa sighed, her shoulders slumped. "He was stupid. Which is worse."
She twitched her fingers against Needle's hilt. "So you're going to do what to Forrester? Give him a disappointed mom face?"
"No, I'm going to send him to the Wall to hold the Shadow Tower Whitehill was manning. If he survives the Dead he can live at Ironrath as Lord of his holdings and only that."
Arya raised a brow at that. Almost certain death, social humiliation, and political ruin that'd take a generation or a miracle to overcome. "And Whitehill?"
"I'm going to behead him." Sansa replied.
Her head snapped up. "Personally?"
"I can't ask anyone else to. It has been one thing for Jon too, but he's my Hand." Sansa winced. "You wouldn't know how to cut a head off would you?"
Arya did not understand this new version of her sister…or maybe understood her weirdly too well? "Hitting the neck with the sharp bit." Her voice was dry as she replied.
"I'd figured that part out for myself, shockingly." Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose. "I wish you could plan for stupid."
Her lips curled of their own volition. "Well, I could always handle it for you."
Sansa gave her a positively scathing look. "I need him alive so that I can kill him."
"Or I could do the beheading bit." Arya offered, she hadn't actually beheaded anyone before, it'd be fun.
"No, it's like father said. Whoever passes the sentence should swing the sword." Sansa's frustration seemed to bleed out of her as she dropped into the chair by the fire.
Arya tilted her head considering her sibling. "How are you going to learn to cut off a head proper then? I doubt having to swing at it twenty times is going to be particularly useful. Be better if I just cut his throat."
"I can ask Hogg? Maybe Brienne?" Sansa sighed. "And dealing with the Woolfields when I give their third son the Whitehill lands is going to be difficult."
Arya actually paused. "That's not what you told that noble imbecile you were giving him?"
"Of course not, he'd have been an idiot to turn that down." Sansa clearly saw the confusion on her face. "I gave a middling position at best, with how much unclaimed land I'll have by the end of this it's a pittance. Certainly not a position worth risking to rape a woman in the presence of twenty Order members who'd all gut him if they suspected him of doing such a thing."
"Huh, clever." Arya admitted.
Sansa waved off the compliment. "And he's friends with the Forresters so that fucking feud will be over and done with."
"Are you sure he's smart enough to have gotten any of that?" She challenged, faintly amused now.
Sansa twitched. "Gods I hope some of it." She pinched the bridge of her nose again.
Arya wondered if she'd be able to play her sister if she wore her face? Perhaps, perhaps not. It would be interesting, not that she would. But still, mimicking the rigid control in all but private situations would be…tiring. "What are you doing about Bran?"
"He's our brother. But other than reminding him of that Daisy is the one, perhaps the only one truly, who can help him."
Arya narrowed her eyes slightly. "And you trust this god you're fucking?"
"Yes." Sansa dropped her hand to her lap. "And do you have to call it that?" Her tone was exasperated.
Arya grinned. "Yes." She wondered how shrill their mother's shriek would be if she was alive to find out about what 'perfect' Sansa had grown to be? "I kill people and I might be the least scandalous in the family. "
Sansa laughed, all giggles and squinted eyes. And Arya joined her.
////
Fitz tapped his pen, not that it deserved to be called a pen. But a dip pen was better than a fucking quill. He frowned at his latest construction of an Einstein Rosen bridge generator. There were…six parts of it he could realistically make….a hundred he could not. He slammed his hands into the top of the table, and swept his arm across the top, sending the things on it flying off as he sprung to his feet and paced, running his hands through his hair. "Fuck!"
He was muttering in frustration only to pause, turning he saw his notes going up in flames. Fuck candles! Fitz jerked forward and started stamping on the fire.
Panting he stared down at his ruined notes, an awful increase of smoke burning at his nose, the lighting poorer. He blinked, his frustration and anger melting as he looked at the wreck of his workshop. It was a mess. And he'd done that…again. He flinched at the thought that it wouldn't have happened if Jemma was there. Because she'd have rubbed his shoulders, lured him away with tea to discuss the problem till they found a solution.
How often did she have to calm him down? A part of him whispered in the back of his head that she was weak. That she made him soft. But most of him felt revulsion. Was his Jemma, the one he remembered, afraid of him? Daisy was.
Fitz swallowed thickly looking at the ruin of his workshop. He was alone, stranded in a different reality, standing in the wreckage of his life. Was this who he was? Who he wanted to be? Daisy wasn't the monster, he was. Why would Jemma even want him?
////
Sansa stared at the goats in the gods' wood. She looked back up at Hogg and Brienne. "You can't be serious."
"I'd be more than willing to commit the execution if you wish, my Queen." Brienne's chin tipped upwards.
She breathed out, took the greatsword from Hogg. "We never speak of what is about to happen. Understood?"
"Aye, your Grace." "Yes, my Queen."
Hogg grabbed a goat's rope collar and led it to the headsman's block set in the corner of the gods' wood. He'd almost certainly been the one to have brought the block there in the first place.
Sansa swallowed back bile. Oh god.
Sansa sank into the hot water of the bath she'd asked be brought up to her room. The nausea had mostly passed from her morning in the gods' woods. But getting clean, and changing her clothing had been necessary. Her eyes closed as she let the heat of the water soak into her bones, her muscles untensing. She wished Daisy was here. It was…she'd come to depend on Daisy's constant support over the last year. That was such a dangerous weakness to have. She ducked her head under the water in sheer frustration.
As she came back up she reached out and picked up the soup. "Get the grey and black dress out Sera."
There were the sounds of steps and rustling as her maidservant went to fetch the required dress.
It was…a relief not to have to speak. Everyone wanted or needed something from her, or she needed or wanted something from them. Ruling without Jon by her side was exhausting. She rose from the water, accepted a towel, and wrapped it around herself. It was well practiced as she prepared for the day. It wasn't till she was partially dressed that her mind cleared at a knock on the door. She sighed, well, so much for an hour or two of quiet. "What is it Loras?"
The door opened, Loras poking his head in. "Mira Forrester requests a private audience."
Sansa barely resisted pinching the bridge of her nose. Well, might as well get this over with. "You better send her in then." Sansa stood letting Sera help her into the gown.
There was the sound of some faint murmurs on the other side of the door, and then Mira Forrester was slipping into the room. Mira at least had the sense to realize what she'd interrupted. "My apologies, your Grace. I can return later?"
"No, I let you in, didn't I?" Sansa glanced at the pale-faced woman as her maidservant began to lace up the back of her gown.
Mira's eyes lowered, and well at least someone in this whole shit show understood what a mess it was.
"You intend to plead on your brother's behalf then. There's no need, his head will be remaining where it is if that's your fear." Sansa slid the knife Daisy had given her into the hidden pocket in her gown. "And nothing you can say will prevent me from stripping his honors from him, nor sending him to hold what that idiot Whitehill was supposed to. As for the rest of your House, they are still allowed sanctuary here so long as Winterfell remains standing against our foes. Did you have any other concerns?" She didn't have the compassion to cater to the woman's feelings. Between Bran's…emptiness, Rickon's ability to drive any girl his own age into a murderous rage, and Arya's unsettling everything, she didn't have a lot of anything to spare.
Mira had a spark of something to her. "Thank you, you're more kind than my brother's actions have earned. However, I wished to speak to you about more than just my family's interests."
Sansa was faintly surprised by that, though she probably shouldn't have been. The other woman hadn't served under Margaery for years for nothing. "What do you wish to speak of then?"
"I'm tired. I was forced into a marriage with a cruel man once, I do not wish to be so again. My brother is a good man. But he must know he'll lose all royal favor through his actions. My marriage is the easiest solution to regaining some of that lost regard."
Sansa realized at that moment exactly what Mira was here for. She felt a pang at the fact she'd likely ruined this for her without intending to. "I'm afraid I sent Woolfield on a mission."
"Markas loves my brother too keenly to go behind his back to steal his sister, no matter what friendship we may hold for one another." Mira replied.
And it wouldn't have changed anything, but Sansa was grateful she hadn't just torched possible happiness for political expediency without realizing it. Hurting people wasn't something she took pleasure in. She hooked her outer leather girdle, wondering exactly where this was going…she was going to need to find a source of intel on court goings on. The Order and their intel were incredibly useful, but they did have their blindspots. Blindspots that would diminish given time, but even then, there were some places they did not have easy access to.
Mira continued on. "How long do I have before my brother returns?"
"Seven, perhaps eight days." Sansa raised a brow. "You already have a groom in mind for eloping with?" Because it'd be insane if she didn't.
Mira's lips turned up. "I do, he'll be difficult to convince. But he's not nobility."
"And you want me to ennoble him and sanction your actions." Sansa felt a sudden understanding. "Do you love him?"
She looked thoughtful as she stepped forward and lifted the metal clasped fabric collar that attached around the neck of the gown Sansa was wearing. Mira waited for the faintest of nods, before approaching closer and affixing the collar around Sansa's neck with practiced fingers. "No, but I do like him, and convincing him to agree will not be hard."
Sansa raised a brow. "Does he have the faintest idea of what you intend?"
"Not at all." Mira gave the faintest hint of a smile, though the drawn look of stress didn't fade. "But he is kind and honorable. Surely you understand, your Grace?"
Sansa breathed out as Sera finished the last of the ties to ensure her gown was in place and ready for court. "You would be in my debt if I promote a new masterly House and protect you from this, utterly. And your brother will be rightly angry."
"I love my brother, but I would rather be your piece for who I am than someone else's for my family." Mira flicked her eyes up and held her gaze. "And it'd be knightly, not masterly."
It was clear she meant it. And Sansa understood, more than she wished she did. The knightly bit was interesting though, one of her men at arms was definitely not prepared for what was coming for him. "I suppose you'll have Loras take care of making a knight for me to promote?"
"He owes me." Mira swallowed. "I would be in your debt, eternally."
Sansa knew what she was going to do, even knowing though she weighed the repercussions. It would seem she was going to be more involved with the Forresters. "You will never rise above the wife of a minor knight."
"I want to be safe, and have a chance at happiness." There was a slight pause. "And if I'm your piece, I will still be able to help my family. Even if they are furious with me for this."
Sansa moved towards the door, pausing before she opened it. "Good luck with convincing your groom."
"Thank you, your Grace." Mira dropped into a curtsy.
Sansa hoped she'd judged her decision rightly. But she had far more important things to handle than the Forresters today.
Notes:The people freaking out about the sex scenes in HotD confuse me. Its like they've just now realize GoT's historical accuracy is a joke. But only because the sex scenes are meant to be uncomfortable and not hot. When GoT had endless sex scenes designed to be hot the pearl clutching was so much less panicked and everywhere. But the C-section scene is thematically relavent and not completely accurate and suddenly people cry historical accuracy. Please. The medieval understanding of sex and stuff was different then ours. What they choose to be 'gritty' and 'realitistic' about says far more about our modern politics and culture than the medieval one. They get so caught up in 'but accuracy' when it's like 'or maybe its metaphor about our own world'.
Like modern writers love the prevalence of sex work in the medieval world. It was everywhere. So it means they can have lots of sex scenes, and look at that sex workers and loose morals. But they don't import the medieval understanding of sex or how sex workers were viewed. The prevalence of sex workers in 'medieval' media says far more about our own sexual politics than anything actual historical. But rather than grapple with the uncomfortable truths about what is says about us that these are the things that resonate with a modern audience, people take their discomfort and go complain its not historically accurate. And like I'm happy to discuss historical accuracy, and moan and complain about the failings over it till the cows come home. But people really ought to ask themselves why they suddenly care about it for some scenes and not others. And at least with HotD, I'd say most of the conversation is cause maybe women being stripped of their rights and treated like objects is resonating a bit too much all things considered right now. Cause if it was really about accuracy people would more irritated about the really confusing wedding scene last episode...like what was that? Royal weddings were events, you didn't just do them in dark halls in shame cause someone got murdered. Jesus.
Chapter 71Notes:Yo!
Chapter TextDaisy made her way to the ruined remains of what had been Dragonstone's gods' wood. She could feel the faintest echoes of the trees that'd once been there. Maybe their roots were still there? She was curious. And Jon and everyone were busy mining dragonglass, her powers and being in a cave being mined sounded terrible, so here she was. She paused at the faint flicker of motion down the hall she was passing by.
Turning she came to a complete halt. There was a man, one of the servants, rocking back and forth, wringing his hands as he clearly debated coming up to her. Hanging onto his shoulder, half holding him back was a second, slightly older man. She brushed her hair behind her ear and kept her body language loose and unthreatening. "Hello, did you need something?"
Finally, the man jerked forward, bowing at the waist. "My wife is in labor, I beg your blessings. Please. It's our first child, there's no midwife. Please. I can't lose her. I'll sacrifice anything, Holiness!" Sweat was running down the side of his face. His terror practically wafting off of him.
Daisy felt a sudden jolt of panic. "I'm sorry, your wife is having a baby right now? Like right now, right now?"
"Her labor pains just began, but there's no midwife, and I…please, I'll do anything Holiness for her and the child to survive. Please." He dropped to his knees, bursting into tears as his knees hit the stone.
She opened and then shut her mouth. "Is anyone with her?!" Because you were supposed to have someone with you for giving birth! Right!?
"There's no women here, Holiness." The second man said, and shit, he was trembling. Dude had grey in his hair and was probably old enough to be her dad. "They fled before the Dothraki arrived. Alix's wife was too heavily pregnant for them to flee."
Daisy swallowed thickly. "So no midwife, isn't there a maester?"
The greying man shook his head, face tight.
She swallowed. Right, ok. Daisy reached down and grabbed the kneeling Alix's arms and dragged him back to his feet. "Go, help your wife, I'll help you. Ok, give me like thirty minutes and I'll come." She looked at the other man. "I'll need you to come with me."
Daisy looked over her shoulder at the older servant who was following her. His tension was actually horrifying, but if a woman was in labor she didn't have time to properly reassure him. "What's your name?"
"Gregor." His fingers were twitching at his sides.
She gave a quick nod. "Right ok, we're going to find someone who can actually help."
Gregor made a sound of sheer panic in the back of his throat as Daisy opened the doors and led them both straight into the map room where Daenerys was probably doing something important. The Dothraki guards liking her made getting around so much easier.
Daisy admittedly burst into the room. "Right, do you have a Maester, anyone with any medical..sorry healing training? You have to have healers for your army right?"
"Daisy." Daenerys looked surprised to see her, which was fair. "Is one of the Northern party injured?"
"No, one of your servants is in labor and there's no midwife." Daisy gestured helplessly, she was so not prepared for this.
Missandei spoke carefully. "It is not uncommon for those not of nobility to give birth with the aid of older women of their family instead of a midwife, your Holiness."
Daisy knew her face was a grimace. "That's part of the problem. Apparently, you two and I are the only women on this whole ass island. And I don't know about you, but I've never given birth before."
"Excuse me?" Daenerys was drawing herself up.
Daisy shoved on. "Lady's husband wanted me to bless the birth or something so nobody dies. Which I can't do, at all. Cause my mom was the one with power over life, not me. Very inconvenient, I'm aware. But unless you have someone with actual training it's us."
"My apologies your Holiness, but are you saying that you plan to assist with the birth personally? And that you wish for her Grace and I to accompany you with this endeavor?" Missandei asked a note of sheer disbelief in her voice.
Daisy nodded, the 'duh' radiating from her. "Yes, although if you have any healers that'd be ideal. If not, it's us." She knew it was a long shot, but worth a try. "Or if any of your Dothraki were girls in the past that'd be helpful maybe? At least if they had a kid or two before going warrior man."
"Are you implying that people's gender can change?" Tyrion's grip on his wine cup tightened like he thought someone was going to take it from him. Varys's eyes behind him widened in shock.
She winced slightly…she didn't have time to explain the concept of being transgender or genderfluid or just..frankly gender if they didn't have the concept already. She'd have cried in joy if there'd been a nice trans warrior dude who'd pushed a kid out at some point though. "Not a thing for you guys?" She would hug anyone who had an option that didn't involve her being the one with the most medical know-how.
////
Fitz was poking at his morning porridge. He was…he couldn't stop replaying memories in his head of how he'd spoken to Jemma after Mavath, or how after Ward dropped them in the ocean he'd lost his temper at everyone. No wonder Jemma had left him. He was just like his father, like Ward.
He frowned as Maester Wolkan rushed up to him. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the fluids on the man's robes. "What the hell?"
"I require your aid, if you have any knowledge on childbirth, please." Wolkan wrung his hands.
Fitz flinched, the one with medical training was the Doctor. "I'm not a midwife."
"Please, the mother and likely the child will die. She's been in labor for near a whole turn of the sun, the child is stuck. I think her pelvis was broken some time ago and has healed wrong. The child can't come out." Wolkan clearly saw the denial on his face, so he pressed. "You brought her under her Holiness's protection."
His mouth felt dry. "Talia."
"If you have any knowledge that could help, anything at all." Wolkan pleaded.
Fitz set his spoon down and nodded. "Alright, I'll need the moonshine from my workshop, and the….. iodine."
"Thank you, please, come quickly, there isn't much time." Wolkan grabbed his arm and pulled him urgently out of the great hall.
Fitz flinched at the sound of screaming and smell as he entered the birthing room. Absently he was aware it was one of Wolkan's chambers for the truly ill. He grit his teeth and moved quickly to Talia's side. "Talia." Consent, he wasn't the Doctor he needed consent.
Her face was red and sweaty as she looked at him, exhaustion leaving her movements sluggish. "Whaat?"
The slur was not a good sign. He swallowed and spoke, holding her eyes as he did so. "May I look at you so I can help?"
She nodded weakly. "Save my baby."
Fitz moved away from the skin-crawling emotion and quickly moved to the other end of the bed. He lifted the sheet off of her so he could see what he was doing.
It wasn't good. Some efficient probing of the cervical area, as well as of her belly and he found he agreed with Wolkan. There was a structural issue with the pelvis, it wasn't shifting apart as it should. Even a premature baby couldn't have been born vaginally. But one that appeared full term like this? Out of the question. He licked his lips nervously as he straightened. "Right, I'm going to need some things. And something to knock her unconscious."
////
Daenerys metaphorically rolled her sleeves up as she saw the woman struggling through contractions. She moved straight to the woman's side, taking her hand. "Breathe through it."
The woman shuddered as she breathed out through the contractions, her hand squeezing Dany's hand, hard. She was not a striking woman or a beauty but there was a sweetness to her, around Dany's own age really, her hair was a soft brown, her face round and freckled. If she hadn't been in pain, likely quite pretty really. As the woman came down from the pain her eyes opened and she clearly recognized Dany instantly. Her face paled in horror. "Your Grace!" Her eyes widened even more as she spotted Daisy. "Holiness!"
Daisy raised her hands in surrender. "Your husband is very worried about you." Her voice was soft as she approached before kneeling down on the other side of the bed. "I'm afraid the Queen here, Missandei, and I are all we've got for helping you through this. But you won't be alone ok?"
Daenerys stayed quiet, though not releasing the woman's hand, as she watched. It was…fascinating how unthreatening and small Daisy was willing to make herself without hesitation or discomfort.
"I don't…you're all too important…." The woman stumbled over her words, but she seemed less panicked.
Daisy smiled gently, it very much reached her eyes. "And yet we want to help you." She paused. "Which that was really rude of us to just come in like that, but your husband refused to step foot in here to warn you. So let's start this outright, my name is Daisy. And if I'm about to see as much of you as helping you bring your kid into the world means, you can ignore the whole 'Holiness' thing." Her tone was gently teasing.
Finally, the woman gave a faint nod.
"Good, so what's your name? Your husband was kinda blubbering too hard to give it." And Daisy's smile grew then.
"Tiffany, your…Daisy?" Tiffany blinked.
Daisy reached out and gently clasped the woman's free hand. "It's nice to meet you, Tiffany." She carefully gestured to Dany. "And a bit unneeded, but this is Daenerys, and behind her is Missandei. Daenerys sent some of her men with one of mine named Joran to find a midwife just along the coast. But that's going to take a while. So I'm afraid you're kinda stuck with us for a bit."
Dany spoke then. "Your pains are not too close together then?"
"No…I..my back was aching all day and…" Tiffany trailed off.
Dany remembered her own failed labor, at least what she'd been conscious for. "Have your waters broken?"
"Not long ago." Her face flushed brightly.
Daisy seemed to realize something. "Has anyone changed the sheets for you since then?"
Tiffany shook her head, her head tilting down shamefully.
"None of that, it happens to us all." Dany looked to Missandei. "Send for some new linens."
"Of course." Missandei stepped to the door.
Daisy's head turned towards Missandei. "And water, we're going to need a lot of water."
"Water?" Dany asked, her brow furrowing.
Daisy nodded. "I'm not a healer, but I know keeping everything as clean as possible is really important." She smiled at Tiffany again. "I can feel your baby's heartbeat, it's strong, just like its mother's and we're going to keep it like that."
"Oh…oh thank the gods." Tiffany's hand flew out of Dany's, her palm outwards as it covered her mouth, her eyes tearing up.
Dany looked around the small room as she half listened to Daisy quietly comforting Tiffany and gently tapping out her baby's heartbeat against the woman's arm. It was a small room, but there was a fire in the hearth and a certain warmth and sense of home to it.
"Holiness, they brought a barrel of water from down the hall, but how are we to get it in here?" Missandei asked as she ferried in a stack of folded sheets.
Daisy half floated half jumped to her feet. "I'll get it."
Dany turned her attention fully back to Tiffany. "Is this your first babe?"
"Yes, my husband and I didn't think we'd be blessed." She touched her stomach, a look of awe on her face.
And Dany smiled at the words. "I remember the feeling. My husband Drogo would hold me, and I'd never felt so happy." She swallowed, feeling the unasked question. "But he died, and our child died in my womb while I was unconscious." She pushed the memories away. "Come, let's get you on your feet so those sheets can be changed. A new shift as well likely."
"You don't have to help me, your Grace." Tiffany's eyes remained stubbornly on her chin.
Dany gently lifted the covers while offering her arm to help the woman out of bed. "I think Daisy was right earlier, you'd best forget the titles and call me Dany."
"Thank you." Tiffany accepted Dany's arm and let herself be helped out of bed.
Dany was careful as she guided Tiffany out of the bed. She didn't mention the way Daisy immediately was helping Missandei change the bed. It was practiced, and clearly, something Daisy had done before. Instead, she helped find a clean shift and helped Tiffany change. Partway through Tiffany stopped, clinging to Dany's arm as she hissed, breathing through a contraction. Dany rubbed circles on the woman's back, gently encouraging her to breathe.
////
Fitz cut the last stitch and then stumbled back till he hit the wall and slid down till he was on the floor. He could hear the baby crying, knew Talia's chest was still breathing, and he… he'd saved her hadn't he? Saved them both. But it hadn't been his knowledge he'd used. It was the Doctor's..but it was just his. He stared at his hands, they were bloody and he should clean them but…
"Are you well?" Wolkan's voice was so horribly full of joy and wonder. He'd been horrified when Fitz had first begun the c-section, his awe as he realized Talia would likely survive the procedure had been effervescent.
He swallowed back the bile at the back of his throat, hot tears running down his face. "I don't remember the last time I…saved someone just to save them."
"You performed a miracle this day." Wolkan squeezed his shoulder. "You should be proud."
Fitz's eyes wouldn't move from his hands, coated in another person's blood. He was supposed to be a hero, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd helped someone who wasn't Jemma. Really helped, not just…tossed a bone at someone because it was easy and cost little. Helped someone for no reason other than to help them. Not to achieve a goal, not to gain something, not because it was easy, just because it was the right thing to do. He wasn't a hero…he didn't think he had been for a long time.
////
Daisy dried the towel hanging by the fire with a flick of her fingers, steam rising from it in a giant poof. They were over fifteen hours in at this point, she'd stopped tiptoeing about using her powers a while ago. Also, her powers were dead useful at keeping things sanitary. "More ice chips?"
"You made a lot." Dany gave her a bemused expression. Though she did hold up the cup with ice chips up to Tiffany's mouth. Dany had ended up the one getting her hand squeezed and seated beside Tiffany.
Daisy shrugged easily, adjusting where her sleeves were rolled up. She'd discarded her outer jacket hours ago. Of course, Missandei and Dany were in similar states. No one had pretended to still have dignity around the time she and Missandei had cleaned Tiffany from her having pooped herself. "Keeping things clean and making ice, my special powers."
"I don't understand, how do your magicks work?" Missandei looked at her curiously.
She hummed. "I don't use magic, I don't have multiple powers, just one." Her lips twitched at the disbelief painted across the others' faces. "I control vibrations."
"I don't…understand." Tiffany panted from where she was coming down from another contraction.
Daisy wondered how to explain it…but…well they had time. "Reality is made of billions of infinitely tiny particles. We call them atoms. They're the building blocks of everything. The air, you, me, we're all made of them. And atoms move. It's like..galaxies inside of people. And I feel it, all the time." She waved her hand, letting a light thrum fill the air. "I can change those vibrations. I can force air to act like a physical wave that's nearly a wall to stop something like dragonfire from reaching me. Or I can make the atoms in the water speed up which heats it and it naturally turns to steam. Or slow those same atoms to freeze it. I don't…create, I manipulate what is already there. My mother's power was like that. She didn't create life, just could give or take it."
"Is that why you said your divinity is up for interpretation?" Missandei asked fascinated.
Daisy nodded, she reached out touching Tiffany's foot as the woman clearly started another contraction. She carefully ducked her head to check the progress. It was hard not to blanch at the…reality of birth. But that was not big enough for a baby… "You're doing really well."
"How do you not have a favorite language?" Tiffany burst out staring at Missandei in confusion as she paced up and down the side of the room, half leaning on Dany.
Missandei ducked her head slightly, a soft smile on her face. "There's a beauty to every language."
"But so many…" Tiffany huffed as she continued to walk.
Daisy laughed. "Don't look at me, it's impressive as hell you know that many. No idea how you know that many."
"I find every language has more in common with others than many assume." Missandei explained, genuine love for her skills there.
Dany was positively affectionate as she looked at Missandei. "Your ability to make the vilest statements politically competent is another language all on its own."
Daisy made a sound at the back of her throat. "I see the head." She looked up from where she was crouched between Tiffany's legs to check how dilated she was. "I think this is it." Daisy squeezed Tiffany's ankle. "Ok, you've totally got this."
The sound Tiffany let out was not happy. It was def a scream, a very unhappy scream. And based on Dany's face that grip on her arm was going to bruise.
Missandei was there than on Tiffany's other hand. She stared at Daisy as she rubbed Tiffany's back. Her whole brow rose, prompting her to do…something?
Daisy was pretty sure the part now was just catching the kid. "Ok, Tiffany, I'm going to need you to push with the next contraction."
"YOU TRY DOING THIS!" Tiffany screamed before slumping from her contraction. Panting, chest heaving, her face sweaty and miserable. "Pushing…ok. I can push. I can push."
Daisy grabbed a clean towel. "You've got this. Like a few pushes and this will all be over." She wanted to cringe…there were other bits to come out after this wasn't there? Like she remembered a blog post about people eating placentas…it'd been a joke then. It was suddenly a horrifying reality check.
"It's coming." Tiffany warned as her breathing changed, a sure sign her next contraction was here.
Dany wiped the sweat from Tiffany's brow. "You are so strong, you're going to meet your baby."
Tiffany wordlessly nodded, tears coming down her face as she breathed harder. Her lips pulled back, a cry of pain and effort coming from her throat.
Daisy felt her eyes widen as she saw the head moving, yet another gush of liquid. She let out a yelp of her own as she readied to catch the kid. "Almost there! Like two more! Two more!"
"I can…do…two more." Tiffany panted like she was trying to convince herself.
Missandei gently rubbed Tiffany's arm. "You are doing wonderfully." She dropped her hand, circling to where Daisy was as the next contraction started to hit.
Daisy wanted to scream too as the head came out, and she saw the shoulders. Her hand shot forward, supporting the slimy head. Oh god, oh god, oh god. "It's coming!" She used the towel to wipe the fluids and slime from the baby's face. And then the baby was sliding out, and Daisy caught it in the towel, gently pulling it the last few inches to keep the legs or something from getting stuck.
She stared down at the infant she was holding and something like joy and disbelief. The sound of a screaming baby had never been so joyful. Daisy beamed up at Tiffany. "You Did IT!" Breathless laughter left her as she hurriedly wiped down the kid. Which..so many fluids she was only partially sure on the identity of. Reaching over she grabbed her white jacket, swapping the dirty towel with her jacket.
She stepped forward, carefully offering the baby to Tiffany. "Hey, you have a baby." Daisy beamed, completely uncaring that she was crying as she passed the kid to its mom.
And Tiffany…she was radiant with joy as she sobbed, accepting her baby. It was one of the best things Daisy had ever seen. She sniffed, stepping back and turning to Missandei. "We need to do something with the umbilical cord right? And we should change out the towels under her."
"Alright." Missandei touched her arm.
Chapter 72Notes:Tags are updated! And we're hitting the end of part two and start of part three soon!
Chapter TextJon stared at Daisy. "But why didn't you just find a shepherd or one of the stable masters? They help animals birth all the time?"
"Why didn't…" Daisy trailed off. "Shit." She lightly whacked him. "If someone hadn't been in the mines that'd have been good to hear."
He laughed, his eyes crinkling as he enjoyed watching the huff his friend was in. "You're glad you helped though."
"Yeah, yeah I am." Daisy had a sort of affectionate glow to her. "So, should I ask why you have a pigeon on your head?"
Jon reached up, knocking the pigeon off. "I've been trying to warg into him." His eyes narrowed as he watched the dumb bird circle around the room. "No success, but it likes me now?"
"You've been trying to warg into a pigeon?" Daisy's brow rose in disbelief.
He shifted awkwardly. "Well, you asked I learn to control it." Jon winced faintly at the pigeon knocking over the cups on the side table. "It's not going well."
Daisy shot forward, hugging him so tightly that it was hard to breathe.
He raised his arms and wrapped them around her and hugged her back. Jon shot a look at the pigeon, maybe he hated it a little less. He pulled back, a smile on his face. Gods, he felt actual hope these days. Real hope. "So, avoiding the mines again?"
"You don't want me in a mine dude." Daisy rocked back on her heels. She rolled her eyes. "I make the ground shake, whole name Quake and all that. Being in a cave sounds like a real bad idea. Def didn't go well last time I went into one."
Jon cringed at the thought of what the ground shaking would do to a cave. "Ah…well, you don't tell Sansa I considered asking someone named Quake into a cave, and I won't tell her you forgot shepards can help with birth."
"Deal." Daisy agreed. "So, any plans that are political?"
He nodded, letting himself fall more serious. "Aye, we found drawings in the caves done by the Children of the Forrest of the Wights."
"And you're going to show them to Dany to try and prove the Dead are real?" Daisy sighed. "She believes they're real, she just doesn't feel the threat yet."
His brow furrowed as he mulled over her words. "How do I convince her to fight for us?"
"You offer her what she wants as well." Daisy patted his bicep, before stepping away from him to shuffle through the letters he'd been writing.
Jon sighed, he knew what that meant. Offer a marriage, a formal alliance. He looked at her. "It's Dany now?"
"We bonded." Daisy winked at him. "So, letter for Sansa finished?"
He ran his hand through his hair. "I'll have it done before you leave tonight." Jon looked pointedly at her hair. "What are you going to do about your hair before Sansa sees it?"
////
Sansa cut into her mid-day meal, it was goat…yet again. She was neatly not thinking about why that was. Instead, she focused on her three–Three!–siblings. It was worth having private family meals at least once every other day, even if her court would prefer she sit with them at every meal. But with how the world had changed all of them, it felt necessary to have this time, just them. She paused as she saw Rickon draw out a dagger to try and hack his rather tough cut of goat into smaller pieces. It was valyrian steel. "Where did you get that dagger?"
"Lord Baelish gave it to me." Rickon's eyes flicked to the dagger, hesitantly pulling it back as if afraid she'd snatch it from him. "It's so I can protect Bran, it's the knife the cutthroat was going to use on him."
Arya reached out lightly, plucking it from his hand, spinning it easily. "Nice blade." Her sharp grey eyes turned to Sansa. "Why do you suddenly look like you want to use it to stab Lord Baelish?"
"Lord Baelish never gives anything for free. What did he ask in return Rickon? Exactly." She refused to panic yet. But she would not let that man get his claws into her baby brother. Her teeth near ached with the desire to snarl. She should have known better. She did know better.
Rickon leaned back in his chair. "He thought I should have it, he didn't need it. Mother brought it to King's Landing to show Father. Lord Baelish thought it should be in with me so I could protect Bran with it."
"That's all he said?" Sansa asked carefully. Her fingers were turning white from where she was gripping her fork and knife. "You're sure?"
He nodded. "Yeah, he doesn't talk to me really?"
"It's the only time he's approached you directly?" Sansa ignored the stillness Arya was radiating, the danger in that.
Rickon shook his head. "No, he only ever looks at me sometimes."
"What is going on sister?" Arya's voice was smooth in a way that screamed danger.
Sansa breathed out, letting her heart slow, and her mind calm. "Lord Baelish is one of the most dangerous men in all the Seven Kingdoms. He does nothing without cause or without expecting something in return. There will come a day when he will expect something for that gift, either from you directly, or a result from which he will profit from. If there is one person none of us, not one of us should trust it is Petyr Baelish."
"Do I give it back?" Rickon asked, but his face was serious.
She wanted to tell him yes. But it was never that simple with Baelish. Especially with Baelish's Vale army only days away. How to explain how dangerous this was? The political game Rickon had just accidentally allowed himself to be drawn into. Because his name, his position as her heir, it all made him a player, and not even the North could protect him from that.
"He turns family against each other." Bran said suddenly, his voice still possessing that disturbing emptiness. "It's what he did to mother and Aunt Lyssa." He blinked, his near cold gaze sweeping them. "He did it to us and the Lannisters."
Sansa's blood went cold at those words. "Bran, what did he do to us and the Lannisters?"
Bran blinked slowly. "He had Aunt Lyssa poison Jon Arryn. Told mother that that dagger was Tyrion Lannisters."
"He started the war." Sansa had been in King's Landing, she knew enough of how everything had unfolded. But if he was that involved…. "He betrayed father to the Lannisters then?"
"Yes." Bran answered.
Arya's chair screeched across the floor as she was on her feet, her jaw so tight it looked like it might snap.
"Stop!" Sansa dropped her hand on Rickon's shoulder keeping her brother who was audibly making a sound that could only be a growl. "Arya, stop."
Arya looked at her with sheer fury and disdain. "I'll kill him."
"Not now." Sansa forced down her revulsion as the events of King's Landing in her memories changed shape. "His army will be on our doorstep in days. You can't kill him."
There was a flicker as Arya's gaze remained riveted to her. "Not now?"
"I need him, we need him to survive this." Sansa swallowed, her fingers tightening their hold on Rickon's shoulder as she felt his fury and displeasure half radiating from him. "But men die in war." She held Arya's gaze. "Accidents happen in war. But if you kill him now we could lose an army that we must have."
Arya seemed to settle slightly, but she was still dangerous. "Fine, he can't be murdered now. But you're Queen. Put him on trial."
"With what evidence? Bran's word? It'd be murder done on the weight of my will. It'd make us no better than the Mad King in the eyes of our enemies. We cannot lose respect or we'll stand even further alone than we already are." Sansa willed her sister to understand. "He cannot be seen to die at our hands."
The tension eased further as Arya listened. "But if something were to happen to him in war, his name just one of hundreds lost…"
"Then who could blame us?" Sansa gave her sister a faint nod. "But until then I need him breathing."
Rickon shifted, outrage plain on his features. "That's not enough!"
"He has a point. You want us to do nothing until it's convenient to kill him?" Arya raised a brow, the hostility had gone, however.
Sansa released Rickon's shoulder, sure he wouldn't try and run from the room. "Hardly, he's plotting and we need to ensure he fails. And that his plans, and he always has many, don't harm us, or our people. Then, and only then I pretend I don't know you're going to slit his throat. We will put down every last one of the monsters who harmed our family. We will kill them all, but on our terms, after we've bled them for everything they can give us." And she would rip every piece of power from Baelish's hands for this.
"Well, alright then." Arya tipped her head. "So what's first?"
Rickon slammed the dagger onto the table. "Anything." His teeth showed as he glared at the dagger like it was poison itself.
Sansa breathed out, forcing herself to calm, her eyes snapping shut. The violent storm of fury she felt would do them no good. Her outrage at not knowing that he'd been playing her family's strings so early. She'd been so young and isolated at the start. And so stupid. It didn't matter though. She'd known what he was since that ship to the Vale. That hadn't changed. She opened her eyes. "He can't know we are against him. I'd been planning on having him killed in the war anyways. He was too dangerous to leave alive, not when I know what he wants."
"He wants power." Rickon said slowly.
She nodded. "He wants the Iron Throne, and marrying me gives him two, possibly three of the seven kingdoms and an army large enough to take the rest come summer." Sansa refused to show her disgust at the next part. "And he loved mother, he never forgave House Stark for stealing her from him."
"He can't have you." Arya and Rickon said at the same time.
Sansa tipped her chin upwards. "No. But first, we need to know everything he has in play."
Sansa was beyond relieved that the public evening meal in the great hall was almost certainly not going to be as emotionally exhausting as her private mid-day meal had been. But she felt deep satisfaction at what had come of that afternoon. Rickon was sworn to silence, and only keeping an eye out through the eyes of animals if he noticed Baelish leaving Winterfell itself. It would keep him safe. Arya…well Arya seemed more settled in her own skin with a mission to focus on. Who knew murder was such a good bonding activity? She'd have suggested it days ago if she'd known.
She was trying to pretend that the goat, yet again, wasn't turning her stomach. But the hall was warm with various lords and ladies, men at arms, and even servants filling the room. It wasn't a feast, or formal. Just food, conversation, a minstrel strumming at something in one corner. A sign of a settled court. She was brought out of her thoughts by the high clear words of Lyarra Karstark as she sat at the table just below the head table and immediately in front of Fitz.
"How'd you meet her Holiness?" Lyarra looked at the confused, and rather quiet recently, man. "It's only I don't know, but it must be a wonderful adventure."
Fitz opened and then shut his mouth. He clearly didn't have the faintest clue about what to do about a young girl demanding information from him. "Uh…"
"I would wager you're right." Greatjon boomed, drawing the attention of the rest of the room. "Come now, don't leave us waiting all night."
Fitz set his fork down, a look on his face that Sansa hadn't seen before…it might have been something like happiness. "Alright, it uh…you have to understand she thought she was human then, we wouldn't realize she was anything else for months so just…she was just Skye then, no last n-name." His lips turned up at the last bit.
He twitched slightly and rubbed at the back of his head. "It was our first mission with SHIELD. Jemma and I h-had only just finished er…I guess getting our maester's chains I guess? We were so young then…" Fitz trailed off before seeming to shake himself out of it. "Our commanding officer was Coulson, then May and Ward were the t-two knights. There was a lead about a hacker with the Rising Tide c-connected to an attempt to make, well, the elixir of the gods. The criminal hacker turned out to be Skye. So er...first time I met her she was in a black hood and chains after she got caught."
Sansa was mostly amused as she listened. Of course, a younger, believing herself to be human, and untrained in combat Daisy, would decide the best way to escape a divinely powerful man; was to kick the meanest looking man in the room in the dick and call him a 'little bitch' to start a street fight. It was…it didn't surprise her at all. It was like punching the biggest man she could find in any room was hardwired into her or something.
Though, hearing what the golden elixir, or centipede serum, or whatever it was, caused madness and then death similar to drinking wildfyre was disturbing. Additionally, she knew enough to realize this younger version of Skye had gotten caught on purpose. She remembered Daisy's guilt about joining SHIELD initially as a traitor. Which meant human Daisy clearly hadn't had a single survival instinct in her entire being as a human. Not that she really did now.
Arya leaned towards her. "I think I'll like your lover."
"And to think, you haven't even seen her punch an Umber in the face yet." Sansa took another bite of her supper.
////
Daenerys walked beside Missandei. "How is Tiffany?"
"She is well, her husband and her are still arguing on a name for the baby." Missandei smiled. "Tiffany is quite set on naming her Dany, and her husband is convinced they must name the baby Daisy."
She huffed, she could see Tiffany doing such a thing. It was touching to hear all the same. "What are they calling the poor babe in the meantime?"
"Dee." Missandei replied with an amused curl to her lips.
Dany laughed at that. "That poor girl will be called Dee all her life won't she?"
"Almost certainly." Missandei's voice had repressed laughter in it. "Her Holiness made it worse with her gift I think."
She looked at her friend as they continued to walk. "What did Daisy give them?"
"A mobile of glass dragons to hang above Dee's cradle. I believe she melted sand into glass and shaped it herself." Missandei was clearly impressed. "It's lovely."
Dany wondered if Daisy or the small family it had been gifted to had the faintest clue what such a gift was worth? She rather doubted it. "Do you believe there will be enough time I might visit Tiffany tonight?"
"If your time with Prince Jon does not take overlong, your Grace." Missandei paused as they came out through the gates, the vastness of the ocean before them. "Still no word from the Unsullied."
Dany reached out taking her friend's hand and squeezing it briefly before releasing her. "Soon. He will come back to you."
"He'd better." Missandei replied with some feeling.
She looked at her friend amused. "What happened?" It would seem her friend's romance with Grey Worm was advancing well then.
"Many things." Missandei replied, her voice full of implication.
Dany raised a brow, her smile growing. She was genuinely pleased for her friend and advisor. "Many things?" Her tone was light.
A throat cleared from the bottom of the stairs. A clearly embarrassed-looking Jon Stark waiting for them. Between the smear of dirt across one cheek and the pink flush to his cheeks, he'd clearly heard the last bit of that. "Your Grace."
"You will have to tell me everything later, it wouldn't do to make our guest too uncomfortable." She gave a last fond look to Missandei before making her way down the stairs to where Jon was waiting. "I hope we haven't left you waiting long, your Highness."
He gave an amused huff, his embarrassment fading. "Not at all, it's good to get some fresh air." His good humor suited him.
"I'm surprised Daisy isn't with you?" Dany replied as she fell into step beside him.
He actually laughed at that. "As she just recently reminded me, one of her names is Quake. Not that I think she'd lose control and cause a cave-in. Best not risk it though."
"Understandable." Dany walked across the sand hardened from the tide with long steps. "I presume you did not ask for me to come here to simply see your mining operations?"
He nodded. "No, I did not. I probably should have brought you here before we started hacking it to bits." Jon gave a slight shrug. "But we found something."
"Which you won't tell me till we reach it." Dany considered the man. He seemed every bit as honorable and dependable as had been reported. She would not soon forget he'd been willing to throw himself into dragonfire for a woman who was only a friend.
Jon's eyes were crinkled at the sides. "It's better to see for yourself first."
"And if I was your sister would you be explaining or showing first?" She asked.
He chuckled a low and pleasant sound. "If you were my sister I'd be up to my eyes in discussions of food storage, trade, and tax laws by now. To be honest I understand about half of what she talks about."
"So you would have told her to distract her from politics?" Dany wondered what it would have been like if her brothers had been good men?
Jon nodded. "Aye, no doubt when you are introduced you'll find her a better conversationalist."
"And you plan for us to be introduced?" Dany prodded, curious what he'd say.
Jon's solemn grey eyes locked on hers with all the sincerity contained within him. "I would have us be allies, your Grace."
She fell silent, that he meant it wasn't in question. What he wanted was clear, it was how far he would go that was in question. And she was near certain she knew that as well. Was she willing to accept that however? "You wished to show me something."
"Of course." He looked away then, taking a torch from one of his men, and then led them into the cave they were mining from.
Dany followed one of her Dothraki guards taking a torch and standing closer to light the way.
The cave was entirely dragonglass. Torchlight seemed to flicker within the glass itself as it reflected the light. The cave was full of Northerns working at, as Jon had said, hacking it to pieces. As the men spotted her they gave short bows, before moving to get water. Clearly, Jon had ordered them to cease work once she arrived. What struck her most was the thrum of good cheer. No one should be this pleased to be hacking rock in a cave.
As they walked deeper into the caves the walls narrowed till they could only move through the tunnel one at a time. Finally, they came to where it widened again.
Dany stared at the symbols carved into the rock as Jon lit the braziers, lighting up the whole section of the cave.
His voice was deep with the weight of what this was as he spoke. "The Children of the Forest made these."
"When?" She reached out touching a spiral in the rock. These were ancient, truly and utterly. Awe curled in her gut, similar to what she'd felt when she first beheld her dragon eggs.
Jon raised his torch, leading her still deeper. "A long time ago."
"They were right here, standing where we're standing. Before there were Targaryens or Starks or Lannisters." This place felt ancient. "Maybe even before there were men."
"No." He held his torch showing images of the small diminutive forms of the Children standing near the larger forms of men carved into the rock. "They were here together, the Children and the First Men."
Her eyes refused to tear away from the images. "Doing what? Fighting each other?" It didn't look like it, but the images were crude and simple.
"They fought together against their common enemy." There was a thrum of passion in Jon as he spoke, showing more of the wall. The newly illuminated figures had blue eyes, towering over the other figures. "Despite their differences, despite their suspicions. Together. We need to do the same if we're going to survive. Because the enemy is real. It's always been real."
Dany looked at him, finally tearing her gaze away from the proof his army of the Dead was real. Not that she'd had hope it wasn't. "And you say you cannot defeat them without my armies and my dragons?"
"I don't know." Jon for all the determination written in every line looked lost. "We will fight to our deaths if necessary, and it may not be enough."
She wondered at the dogged determination and rigid code these Northerns all seemed to have. But she could not ruin herself and her armies for a people who would be her enemies. "I believe you Jon Stark. But I cannot fight for a Queen who would supplant me."
"Sansa doesn't want the iron throne." He swallowed. "We don't want it."
Dany was compelled, but her men, her dream, and her would-be people deserved more. "I need more than your word."
Jon ran a hand through his hair, but he nodded. "Then permit us to wed, that our two kingdoms could be bound as family."
Her heart thudded at that, he'd done it then. For better or worse, he'd thrown his gauntlet down. She was prevented from replying by a Stark man at arms tripping into the room and nearly being gutted by her Dothraki guard.
The man stumbled back, hands raised in surrender. "Ravens for the Dragon Queen!"