Chapter 88Notes:Sorry about the late update, had to take a family member to the ER. Nobody died though, so ya know. Just kinda exhausted.
Thanks to SilenceistheLoudestSound and ChryalismPancake for the songs! ITs super cool you guys went and wrote songs for this!
Chapter TextTormund tromped through the Wolf's Wood to where he'd heard the whistle of a successful hunt. He grinned at the sight of Doval and the marsh girl Meera, standing bloody but alive over a direwolf. "You bleed'n out?"
"Nay." The man wiped the blood from his face. "Damned beast nearly took ma' head off."
Meera Reed yanked her spear out of the beast's heart. "Not the elk we thought we were hunting."
"It's got a good hide, and a beast that big will taste just as sweet as any elk." Tormund chuckled, some of these southern women had proper fire in them.
The girl snapped her spear to the side, blood splattering across the snow, her eyes wary as she looked around the forest. "Wolves hunt in packs, and direwolves belong on the other side of the Wall."
"Aye, Bay of Ice must be beginning to freeze over." He slapped Doval on the shoulder as he looked at the great beast. "Next one's mine if there's a pack. My woman could use a wolf skin pelt."
Doval checked his bowstring. "Ya have to steal her 'for she's your woman."
"Brienne would rather stick you with her sword than let you bed her." Meera scoffed only for her eyes to narrow. "Did you hear that?"
Tormund raised his hand, Doval and Meera falling quiet. And there, he heard the deep chuffing sound. He grabbed his axe. "BEAR!"
Doval spun, putting himself behind Tormund and Meera as he notched an arrow. Meera swung her spear up, dropping into a crouching stance, eyes flicking for the threat.
There was a great roar that shook the air.
And then a huge white bear crashed through the brush, charging them.
"Fuck." Doval hissed drawing back his bow and firing at the bear.
Tormund roared right back as he braced himself because a fucking spear, axe, and one bow was a gamble against a full grown polar bear.
The bear reached him first with a great swing of its paws. Tormund tried to throw himself to the side, but the monster was fast. He went flying, his chainmail keeping claws from piercing his belly. His back hit the snow hard as he rolled.
Hauling himself up, he grabbed his axe and charged for where the bear was being held at bay by Meera with her spear, Doval sinking arrows into it.
Tormund let out a yell as he lept, sinking his axe into its neck.
It reared up with a roar of pain. He fought, twisting his axe through gristle, veins, and muscle. The beast staggered, its sounds turning to groans and then gurgling moans before it collapsed into the snow. Bright red blood spilled across the white snow.
Tormund planted himself and wrenched his axe out of its neck. Lifting it high above his head, he put his whole body into it and swung it up above his head before bringing it down in a great arc and lodging it into the creature's skull.
Panting he looked up with a wide smile at his two companions. "Think Brienne'll like a bear pelt?"
Meera dropped onto her ass in the snow, her chest heaving. "It's dead."
"Aye, nothin' is gonna survive an axe in the brain." He chuckled as he surveyed the area. "Land's gettin' wild again here." His teeth showed as he grinned.
Doval grunted as he moved to gut the wolf. "Least it's not spiders. I hate spiders."
Meera ran a hand through her hair. "I'd hope to have seen the last of these things when I got to this side of the Wall."
"Winter is settling in girlie." Tormund kicked at the bear's gut. "Dark things are comin, and wishing won't keep them away." He chuckled at her expression that said she was considering stabbing him. "Now come help me gut the bastard."
She crawled back onto her feet. "Shouldn't I get a fire going so we can signal the horses to come to us and take our hunt in?"
"In a bit. You're not saying you're squeamish over a little blood." His grin grew at the girl's look of absolute disgust as she yanked out a knife. Yup, she had fire in her alright.
Tormund straightened, his back cracking satisfactorily. "I'll do a loop and make sure we don't get another surprise."
He ignored the grunt from Doval and the sharp glare from Meera. They weren't the only predators about, as their kills could attest to. He stepped with as quiet footfalls as he could manage through the snow. It was cold, would only get colder. Examining the ground he looked for tracks.
As he was about to loop back to his companions for this hunting expedition he paused. He'd heard the tiniest growl. Turning he used his axe to push some foliage away.
A streak of reddish brown lunged out from under the bush, its tiny needle sharp teeth latching onto his boot.
"Huh." He chuckled looking at the wolf pup trying to savage his foot. Reaching down he grabbed it by the scruff and lifted it. Tormund looked it in the eye. It'd be a kindness to kill it, might make a pouch or something from its hide. But…he watched it snarl and snap at him, struggling against his hold.
Tormund shook his head and walked back towards the kill site, the colored smoke signally the horses to come and collect their kills already rising above the trees. And in his hand was the pup.
////
Alys Cerwyn, recently Karstark, found that riding into Winterfell wasn't terror inducing this time, as it had been before. Her marriage made her safe. As she and her husband rode through the gates and into the courtyard she spotted a man clearly awaiting them.
"Lord and Lady Cerwyn." He stepped forward, catching the reins of her husband, Cley Cerwyn's horse.
Cley dismounted. "Bower, what are you doing out here?"
"The Queen apologizes for being unable to greet you and asks that you attend to her solar as soon as you are able." Bower passed the reins to a stable boy.
Alys felt a flicker of surprise at that, as she allowed her new husband to assist her in dismounting. Not that she couldn't do it herself, but she did not intend to stop his protective hovering. "Does she wish for just my husband or for both of us?" Her hand laid on her husband's forearm.
"Both of ya, M'lady." Bower tipped his head to her.
Clay nodded. "We'll go immediately, the household can take our things to our chambers." He waved to their handful of men at arms to see to unloading the cart they'd brought with them. A large party wasn't necessary with how close their home lay to Winterfell. He gave his soft, slightly unsure smile to her. "Shall we?"
"Of course, we can't keep the Queen waiting." She slipped her arm through his, pleased at how he automatically began to lead them into Winterfell.
She'd been in Winterfell as a prisoner, returning as a guest made all the difference. The great walls and bustling halls no longer felt oppressive. Alys held her head up, the double headed axe of House Cerwyn stitched into her dress. And, the black and silver of House Cerwyn were not so different from the black and white of House Karstark. "Do you know what her Grace wishes to speak with us about?"
"Nothing from her letters." Cley replied, though he nearly hadn't needed to. After all, he'd shared his letters with her as with the war near their doorsteps she needed to be prepared to run their House in his absence when the day came. A day that would come soon.
Alys hummed and squeezed his arm slightly. Their marriage was so new, she knew what they had was not love, and likely never would be. But she found she was fond of her husband and would see to it he remained fond of her as well. It was more than she could have hoped for.
Her eyes hit upon the two royal guards standing on either side of the Queen's Solar. Their green cloaks and grey gambesons with iron wolves in the various metal clasps about their persons were distinctive though not ostentatious. A line their Queen walked very well. One of them was the surviving Stormlander, Rebkin, or something like that. The guards spotted them and knocked on the door before opening it.
Cley walked them past the guards with all the confidence to know his Queen wished to see him, and of his place in her court. He bowed as soon as they entered. "Your Grace." Alys dropped into a deep curtsy beside him.
"Please rise." Sansa Stark gestured for a servant to step forward with bread and salt. "It's good to see you both here again."
Alys accepted the bread and salt after her husband.
"Has something happened?" Cley asked as soon as he'd swallowed down the symbol of hospitality.
Sansa's face had the faintest flicker of humor. "A great deal and nothing at all. I wished to speak with you about two things principally."
"Of course." Cley agreed immediately. "What do you need?"
The Queen lifted a stack of paper and passed it over. "Dragon glass should be arriving in Whiteharbor soon. According to my council, the best use for it is as arrowheads, spear tips, and daggers. I would place you in charge of coordinating the effort. Whether we need to move it to Winterfell and then onto our forces or prepare it in Whiteharbor or any other option I do not know. Look at the numbers and requirements and prepare the three options you find most efficient and bring them to the small council meeting in four days' time."
Cley brimmed with pride at being asked to see to so important a matter. And it was important, horribly so. "Of course, I'd be honored to aid in this matter, your Grace."
"Good, the other request I have is for Alys actually." Sansa's eyes turned to her. "If you will, I could use a woman of your intelligence among my ladies in waiting?"
Alys felt her throat tighten. Her House had been traitors. Her husband while loyal and trusted was not of a powerful House. And yet… "Your Grace, I would be honored but surely there are more suitable ladies?"
"You underestimate yourself." The Queen replied easy as anything.
And well, it was an honor she had no interest in turning away from. It would seem she would not be sentenced to merely preparing clothing and blankets for the deepening winter. "Then it would be my honor."
////
Arya spun a dagger between her fingers, her feet resting on top of the table in the King's Hall. Quite frankly the endless procession of various idiots here to see her sister taking turns coming in was rather boring. She perked up slightly at the sight of two guards escorting a man in, and being led by one of the Knights of the Vale. At least that promised to be interesting. She really should have tried buying lunch for a whore. It'd have been more productive.
"Your Grace." Ser Rass Egen gave a boringly perfect bow to her sister. The man was square, plain, and grey.
Sansa spoke. "Ser Rass, what brings you before me?"
"This man impeached your honor unforgivably." Ser Rass gruffly stated. "His…music was unacceptable."
Sansa's eyes turned to the man. "Am I correct that you are a bard?"
"Aye, your Grace." The poor, faintly scruffy bard bowed a bit too enthusiastically. His wide eyes were locked on Sansa. "I didn't mean any disrespect, it's…not like that. I'd never say anything against you, your Grace. I just the rhyming of the original ditty was so good, I only made it more proper."
Arya wondered which one of the various songs that were going around this poor idiot had written. She was fond of the one about Sansa riding an eagle. The rhyming was terrible, and the metaphors crude but it was hilarious.
Sansa had a spark in her eye that said she was amused. Arya doubted anyone else had noticed. Her sister waved one of the guards forward. "Get this man his lute, I'd rather just hear the song instead of listening to an argument about it."
"You should not need hear such a thing, your Grace!" Ser Rass protested in sheer horror. Hilariously the poor bard looked like he utterly agreed and wanted the ground to swallow him.
Sansa waved off the concern. "A song is not going to horrify me Ser, I'm not so weak as that." She looked at the poor bard who'd just had a lute shoved into his hands. "Please, before this takes more time."
He tremulously cleared his throat but did finally do as requested. And honestly, Ser Rass's face was hysterically pained as he was forced to stand by and listen.
Our red wolf's journey to the crown
Was long and hard all 'round
She had many obstacles on her trail
Many tried to stop her, all would fail
A lion, a letch holding her back
But she is a wolf with a pack
Next she found a leech and traitor taking over her den
But a wolf rules their homes now and again
When she finally reached the end
There was a reward, a lady with her knee to bend
The letch thought her weak and soft
The wolf inside dismissed and scoffed
As she did not roar as she stalked her prey
She just waited patiently for the perfect day
To leave them and never look back
The wolf was free and on the attack
Our red wolf's journey to the crown
Was long and hard all around
She had many obstacles on her trail
Many tried to stop her, all would fail
A lion, a letch holding her back
But she is a wolf with a pack
Next she found a leech and traitor taking over her den
But a wolf rules their homes now and again
When she finally reached the end
There was a reward, a lady with her knee to bend
The next was a leech who thought himself bigger then he was
But truly only made up of flaws
And the wolf silently endured for more than she should
For he fed of her as violently as he could
But it gave the wolf a chance to move
And the wildness in her proved
For she had her claws and fangs quickly slashed
And a husband and traitor dead in a flash
Our red wolf's journey to the crown
Was long and hard all around
She had many obstacles on her trail
Many tried to stop her, all would fail
A lion, a letch holding her back
But she is a wolf with a pack
Next she found a leech and traitor taking over her den
But a wolf rules their homes now and again
When she finally reached the end
There was a reward, a lady with her knee to bend
The Old Gods answered the she wolf's pleas
And out she came from the heart tree
A lady of the stars, a goddess for our winter queen
The god loved our red wolf, a love never before seen
For all her claws, fangs, and veins of ice
The lady never wavered once or twice
Her Holiness showered her in gifts and acts only a god would give
Together they shall forever live
Arya glanced at her sister before looking back at the hall. "You can't be serious? It's …a normal song?"
"I find I agree with my sister." Sansa looked at Ser Rass's face clearly perplexed. Because Sansa couldn't ever just be curious, she went straight to perplexed like a proper lady, queen…whatever.
Ser Rass spluttered, "That wasn't the filth he sang, not that this one was acceptable either!"
Sansa's gaze fell on the bard. "I will forgive the impulse to perform a more court-appropriate song, once. The actual tavern ditty if you would." It was an order, her tone sent a shiver down several men's spines.
The bard swallowed dryly, but nodded, and struck up a tune which was quite a bit jauntier. His voice was a bit weaker with what was likely terror.
Oh the Letch can't reach so you'd better lay down
Put on your back 'fore the might of the crown
The crown says no, sent her back up the neck
Not the Letch nor the leech it's the Lady
Oh the leech thought himself a man of his house
He was fucked with a knife for the love of his hounds
When the earth spread 'er legs, and the Dreadfort sank deep
Not the Letch nor the Leech it's the Lady
Oh our ice queen down on her knees she did pray
And the wood whipped out a goddess that day
You can hear all the moans of her worship far away
That ain't the Letch nor the Leech it's the Lady-
Sansa held up a hand silencing the bard before he could keep singing. "I believe we get the point."
Ser Rass was bright red in the face with outrage. "To just bandy about your shame-"
"Shame?" Sansa's voice had sharpened. "What exactly am I supposed to be ashamed of?"
Arya spoke up as the man refused to speak. "I believe our good Ser is saying you should be ashamed of your past marriages, possibly murdering the last husband." She cocked her head to the side. "Could be the god you're fucking."
And gods' bless him, Manderly snorted from where he was seated. "Southern sensibilities."
"To have it so…bandied about!" Ser Rass attempted. "It's not proper!"
Arya continued to turn the knife in her hand absently, her attention was very much on this shipwreck of a conversation. She could feel her teeth showing from her grin.
"Everyone here knows my history." Sansa's voice was impressively unruffled considering the snickers running throughout the court. "If my subjects wish to make songs about me that is their right. Or would you prefer I follow the steps of Joffrey? Have this man's tongue ripped out of his head in the middle of court so we can all watch the horror?"
Ser Rass looked like a child being scolded by his mother. "No, your Grace. I only meant that such things should not be for the entertainment of drunks in taverns."
"You consider that a particularly scandalous tavern ditty?" Sansa asked, the disbelief actually faintly audible.
Arya piped up. "I'm fond of the one that rhythms hunt with cunt." She looked at her sister. "Isn't the one who wrote that one the idiot you had to send to the Wall so he didn't get murdered by the guards?" She knew it was. It'd only been a moon's time ago.
Sansa actually audibly sighed. "Lord Manderly, if you could pay this poor bard for his song. Ser Rass, think before you drag a man before me. I don't appreciate having my time wasted." She waved her hand.
Ser Rass opened his mouth, whether to accept or protest they never did find out, as he and all of them fell silent at a great chorus of howls echoed from outside the hall.
Arya was struck dumb, her heart racing, she knew that howl, and would always know it. And she was not alone in recognizing it. Ghost's great white head lifted, his ears perking forward as he looked towards where the sound had come from. And in the yard down below Shaggydog howled back, his great reverberating howl that was near impossible to miss. His sounds were answered by dozens of howls from further out.
"Nymeria," Arya uttered, and then she was on her feet and darting out of the hall, Ghost on her heels as they went to meet their packmate. Her other-self. She'd thought Nymeria had left her, but no, she'd come home. She'd just brought her new pack with her.
Chapter 89Notes:Yo!
I'm sorry I didn't get to all of your comments last week it's just been very hectic for me lately. I apritate the feed back even if I missed replying this last week.
Also, you guys were right, I messed up with Ser Vardis...who is very canonically dead at that point. He's got a new name. Its fine, he does not matter. But thanks for pointing that out.
Chapter TextWillas Tyrell was brimming with nerves as he ensured his best hawks and falcons were on display. Their divine guest had finally asked for something, and it was something he was proud of. He prayed quietly that his birds would be up to her standard. His life's work was to be judged by a Goddess! He carefully glanced at the clean floors that he'd insisted be cleaned thrice today in preparation for this. The soft smell of the fresh pine sawdust and rose-laced breeze through the windows were there. The scent of bird was barely noticeable. Not that he kept most of his birds in this particular room.
He carefully checked the hoods on the young red-tailed hawks he believed were the best option for a young boy receiving his first hunting animal. Of course, he had his own gyrfalcon and some of its fellows there for display. He also had seen that some saker falcons and sparrow hawks were on display as well as any of his birds of particular note. Willas turned at the sound of the door opening and bowed deeply. "Your Holiness."
"That is…so many birds." Goddess Quake blinked seeming surprised by his prize aviary specimens.
Willas straightened, and carefully selected the loveliest leather lady's glove. "Please, it is an honor to show them to you."
She stepped closer, accepting the glove while looking at the birds curiously. "I have no idea how impressive this should be." Her eyes flicked to him. "So if I sound incredibly stupid, sorry ahead of time."
"It is something I am honored to share, they are some of our most prized possessions in the Reach. I'm afraid I can speak of them at length if I am not stopped, Holiness." He smiled, pleased to see a respectful light in her eye as she looked at the birds. Familiar with hawking or falconry she might not be, but she liked them.
He walked carefully, though he had noted their divine guest didn't give a fuck about his leg and easily adjusted her pace to match his whenever they walked near each other. "For a gift to a young prince, I would recommend one of the red-tailed hawks if it is his first bird." Willas gently lifted one of the handsome young hawks onto his glove, clipping its leg lead from the perch to the metal ring of his glove.
Goddess Quake looked at the animal curiously. "May I touch it?"
"Of course, he's a well trained bird." Willas was fond of the young hawk. He'd been planning to gift it to one of the young boys from House Fosseway, but well, the Fosseways could accept a different bird. "His name is Applesworth."
Her brow rose as she gently touched Applesworth's feathered breast. "Applesworth?"
"I allowed one of the younger cousins to name him when I first was bonding him." Willas smiled fondly. "Of course, the name could be changed if his Highness chooses to do so, Holiness."
She didn't appear displeased, merely amused. "It's funny how names can be so wildly unsuited for a person or animal."
He wondered if she meant her own name, after all, Daisy was hardly fitting for a Goddess of Ruin and Death. "Children have the oddest ideas for names I've found, and well, a mother rarely knows who her babe will grow to be."
"You're not wrong." She had a kind smile, it easily reached her eyes. While Willas had seen enough of her to know she was intelligent and her ruthlessness was not in doubt. He wondered at the depths the Goddess had. It was fascinating, truly. Her eyes flicked to him and away from the bird. "Should I be expecting you to attempt to seduce me? I think I'm at five Tyrells who've tried now."
Willas reached out touching his personal favorite bird, his gyrfalcon with his free hand. "If my relatives have not been to your taste I doubt you're interested in more than my birds, Holiness." He gave a faintly self-deprecating smile.
Her eyes flicked from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head. One of her brows arched and then she rolled her eyes. "This world is so fucked." She sighed. "You have a limp, not the plague."
"My first tourney I took a bad fall." He agreed, though he found himself fascinated at the implied disgust she felt on his behalf.
She dropped a hand on one of her hips. "You know the knight who trained me to fight had a limp, didn't stop her from being the scariest human I've ever met. And while I'm not interested, to be clear, you are stupidly handsome. There's no way you don't have a herd of women willing to marry you."
"I'm not without options for marriage." He allowed, and he was certainly pleased by the compliment.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "But that does not prevent your Lords from being dicks about it."
"It does not." Willas set Applesworth onto the perch, lifting his own favored bird onto his hand instead. "But there are advantages to being underestimated."
She gave a light laugh of agreement, her eyes curiously taking in the bird. "And what's this one's name?"
"Haytham, I bought him from an Essosi trader. He's a gyrfalcon and the finest bird in the Reach." He proudly presented the bird to the Goddess, its white feathers gleaming in the sunlight that dappled through the wooden screens covering the windows.
She gave him a look and waited for his silent nod, before reaching out and gently touching the bird. "He's beautiful."
"He's a great hunter for pheasant and hares." Willas gently offered the bird to her Holiness. "Just remain steady, they know when the one holding them will not support them."
She accepted Haytham from his glove to her own. There was something that might have been awe as she easily took the weight, not a sign it affected her at all. A quiet reminder she was something far more than mortal. "Well hey there. Aren't you a handsome boy." She greeted the bird.
Willas was quiet as he watched Haytham accept the arm he was on. He always found that how an animal and person interacted revealed to you far more of a person's character than they showed otherwise. And Haytham felt no unease at the being holding him. Instead ruffling his feathers and preening. He felt a pleased smile on his face. "Haytham is a bird fit for a King."
"I can see that." Her eyes didn't leave the bird though. "I'm guessing not for a boy just starting at…is it called falconry or hawking or something else?"
He would have chuckled at the question from anyone else, as it was he felt his mouth curving into a smile. "No, traditionally not. However his Highness is royalty, it would not be unheard of. And both terms are applicable, your Holiness, though falconry is more commonly used." A large part of him would be grieved to be separated from any of his three gyrfalcons, let alone Haytham, but the favor of a god was far more valuable than an animal that could be replaced. At great expense or not.
Something knowing was on her face as she looked at him. "Rickon Stark if he could choose would pick the largest, most vicious bird you have. He could care less whether the bird is for Kings or not. Even if Haytham here is really beautiful."
Willas actually laughed at that. "Sounds like what I'd expect from a boy of two and ten. Right up until the bird larger than him tries to savage him for not being able to hold the creature's weight steady."
"Pretty much." The Goddess ran her fingers along Haytham's feathers, the gyrfalcon leaning into the contact as her fingers hit what must be an itch he hadn't been able to reach himself. "Though, he does have a direwolf the size of a large pony. He's started riding Shaggydog, scares the hell out of the knights from the Vale."
Willas felt his eyes widen ever so slightly. Of course, he'd heard of the Stark direwolves, it'd been court gossip years ago, and none had forgotten the tales of Robb Stark and his great beast of a wolf. But to realize that the boy prince of the North had a beast larger even than Robb Stark's likely ever had been was..it was terrifying.
She didn't acknowledge his pause, though it was clear she had noticed it. "Shaggydog, Rickon's direwolf is constantly stalking your brother actually. I think he thinks the shriek Loras can hit is funny."
"The wolf or the prince, Holiness?" Willas asked, forcing his unease aside. Tales of magic, dragons, direwolves. The world was so different from what he'd ever imagined as a boy.
Her brow rose as she looked at him. "Yes."
"Ah." Willas looked to where his golden eagle was perched further down the row. "While it would perhaps be a poor choice of bird till he's older, would you wish to see my largest bird, your Holiness?"
She gently returned Haytham to his perch, which was interesting. She'd clearly picked up the how on that by watching him, and she'd done so fast. It spoke to a level of confidence. "Alright, I'm going to guess it's the giant one at the end?"
"Indeed." Willas walked, not mindful of limiting his limp, the Goddess clearly didn't care. He reached the giant beast of a bird. "Loras named her Briar."
"Like the roses?" The Goddess frankly giggled at that as she approached the bird without a flicker of fear. It was fifteen pounds, and nearly forty inches standing up of vicious hunting instinct. Briar's wingspan if she'd spread her wings their span was seven feet of feathers and muscle.
Willas dared to reach out halting the Goddess before she got too close. "Briar is…temperamental. I would be shamed if she attempted to harm you, Holiness."
The Goddess paused, looking at the bird. "She's a golden eagle isn't she?"
"Well spotted, I thought you were not one for hawking?" Willas asked, he noted how the bird and Goddess were both clearly examining one another.
She didn't look at him, her and the bird staring right at each other, unblinking. Her voice was soft. "I, it's funny, it's my sigil. I've worn eagles stamped all over my clothing for years but I've never seen one in person."
He stared as she approached, slowly, before reaching out, Briar instantly leaning into the touch, seemingly as fascinated with the Goddess as the Goddess was with her. It was…he would never say it aloud, but while her name might not suit her, her sigil very much did. And clearly, the living creature of her sigil agreed.
Briar climbed onto Goddess Quake's gloved hand and arm without hesitation, butting its massive head against Quake's chin.
"They can tell I'm not human." She touched the eagle the same as she had the small hawk he'd first shown her. "It's funny, humans can't tell unless I do something or they look at my blood or whatever. But animals, they get it."
Willas watched fascinated, she wasn't wrong, his birds had had no reason to trust her, and yet they all had. "She's yours if you wish."
"She is beautiful." Goddess Quake didn't look away from Briar, the eagle nudging her hand with its head to encourage continued touch. "But I wouldn't know what to do with her. And my world would be wrong for her." She shook her head, finally looking away. "And while Rickon would be delighted, I think we both know this isn't the one for his nameday."
Willas accepted it easily, he could have guessed at the answer and yet…perhaps he should prepare a hunt while his honored guests were within his halls. "No, I think that might be for the best indeed, Holiness."
"So tell me, which bird do you think is right for a twelve-year-old?" Her lips quirked up, though the massive bird on her arm remained engaged, leaning into her touch and body.
He gestured to the birds closer to the doors. "If the choice was mine, one of the red-tailed hawks, Holiness."
"And if I asked for two so that he could learn with his closest friend?" She was looking at him curiously.
Willas felt a thrum of excitement, he could feel that he'd gained more ground in this one short afternoon than any save perhaps Loras had gained since their divine guest had arrived. "Then it would be my honor to assist you in selecting the two most suitable birds I have."
"Which makes this kinda weird, how do you want me to pay for them?" She shrugged slightly. "I can't offer blessings or whatever, and it's not like I can turn things to gold."
He stepped forward. "Please, it is an honor to gift whatever you should please to you. I owe my own, and my entire family's lives to you. It is a debt I can never repay, to yourself or her Grace."
"I'm not going to take your birds. Even if I doubt I get it entirely, even I can tell they are ridiculously expensive. And you care for them." She had that brow raised, daring him to challenge her on it.
Willas swallowed, he knew from his cousin that the Goddess had shown no interest in the gifts of the small folk, and from what else he'd heard or rather had reported to him he doubted that was unusual of her. To offer them as a gift again would be an insult. But to ask anything of a Goddess was… "Two questions. Answer me two questions truly, and honestly and the two finest hawks I possess are yours."
"That doesn't seem fair, but alright." Goddess Quake returned Brair to her perch, easily hooking her tether back to the perch. Which was fortunate, Briar was a natural predator to the smaller birds in the room.
Turning she leaned against the perk, one hand idly stroking Briar, but her attention fully on him. "What do you want to know?"
"Why the Starks?" Willas asked, watching her expression carefully, ready to take back the question if it gave insult.
She looked thoughtful before she finally spoke. "I'm not from your world, and I didn't mean or want to be brought here. And I came through with my friend, Fitz. He's human, they've been calling him Smith touched." She sighed seeming to consider her words further. "He's in Winterfell still. But he didn't take coming out of the tree well. Took him seven weeks to wake up and I can't heal. I destroy."
Willas adjusted the weight that was on his leg, watching her fascinated.
"And again, not my world. And roughing it in the wilds would be a terrible idea like I'd be fine, but Fitz? Out of my entire team, we're kinda the least suited for your world. Like half my specialty isn't even possible here." She ran her ungloved hand through her hair, it wasn't that much longer than his own. "But Winterfell was there, and Maester Wolkan. So accepting the offer to stay from the Boltons was the only good option."
Her face filled with active disgust. "Then the Boltons were disgusting, I haven't regretted killing them once. But uh…probably not the most well thought out thing I've ever done? So it was just Sansa, the servants, and men at arms smart enough not to help the Boltons and like..that was it. Then overthrowing a government and just leaving is..super shitty."
"Regime changes can be incredibly chaotic." Willas agreed, he was far more interested in the obligation this Goddess had given herself, and the implication she cared for human life and peace. She was aware of her actions' consequences and was not indifferent to those consequences.
Goddess Quake gave a slight nod of agreement. "So I stayed, and well you've met Jon. He's a good guy. And Sansa is…impressive. I watched her take terrified boys and broken peasants and forge a nation. And do it with every kindness she was permitted to give. I was involved, and I like them. All of them are good people, loyal, brave, and willing to see what is wrong and fight to change it. It's weird, I don't even like the cold and I miss it when I'm down here." She seemed to see something on his face as she continued. "I like them, they're my friends. And they're preparing to fight the end of your world. I'd have ended up involved anyway."
"To your credit, Holiness." Though Willas wasn't entirely sure why the end of the world would draw her? Her power, or her heart?
She looked like she was barely keeping from laughing at him. "It's not that complicated. By the time I could leave without hurting Fitz it was a bit too late. I care about them." She stepped away from Briar. "Come on, you look like you're in pain, even if you're hiding it."
Willas could feel his knuckles turning faintly white where they held his cane, and yet. She hadn't lied, he wasn't sure if she'd omitted for herself or to avoid telling him the rest? It wasn't difficult to read the implication. It wasn't 'like' or 'friendship', she loved them. She'd met the Starks and they'd made her love them. And his leg might ache, but it was hardly sharp enough for him to lose this moment. "If we leave this room, not even I can predict which ears will hear and be spread of any question I might ask you."
"You can ask tomorrow." She did him the courtesy of looking in his face, not at his leg.
He nodded. "I could, but I know my own limits, your Holiness."
"Ok, you won't insult me or whatever if you have to find a chair though." Her shoulders rolled slightly back as she crossed her arms. "So what's question number two?"
Willas could ask a thousand questions, and all of them would be useful, but the Goddess was quite free with some information, even if he'd noticed it was specific what she was fine with talking about. So he needed to ask something she would typically brush off. "What is your opinion on Daenerys Targaryen? Truly."
She whistled under her breath. "Should have expected that one." Goddess Quake tilted her head. "She's idealistic, tries to do the right thing, but she's also arrogant and entitled. I don't know if she'll be a good leader long term, she's not good at choosing advisors. Something no doubt you'll want to fix." She frowned. "But she cares and that matters more than a whole hell of lot else." The Goddess paused slightly. "And the title Breaker of Chains, that's important. I get why the people who follow her half worship her. People like her rarely end up in power, and what she's done with her power so far is impressive."
"Thank you for answering so honestly, Holiness." He smiled slightly, he saw her game, at least in part, then. He'd wondered what she meant to accomplish and why she acted in some cases and not others. Grandmother had been right, why she hadn't killed Cersei was important. And he would wager he'd just found it.
She raised a brow at him, a knowing expression on her face. "Practical questions."
"I try to be a practical man." Willas didn't bother hiding his smile, he'd been right. She was exactly as aware of politics as he'd thought.
Goddess Quake pulled off the leather falconing glove as she reached his side. "I'll leave tomorrow evening for Winterfell for a few days. It'll be interesting to see what you do about your Queen's counsel while I'm gone."
He stepped to where the hawks were. "Applesworth and Swiftwing are the two hawks best suited for the young prince. I will have them prepared for you before you leave." Willas looked at her, it was fascinating. She wasn't what he'd have expected from a being with the titles she bore, or the power she wielded. "I will endeavor that you are pleased on your return."
Willas let out a sigh of relief as he sat by his grandmother. He hadn't lied earlier, he could handle the pain, but that did not mean he enjoyed it. Setting his cane aside he poured himself a cup of wine and drank deeply, allowing his eyes to close.
"Well out with it, how was your afternoon with her Holiness?" Olenna asked as she accepted her own cup of watered-down wine.
He looked at her and couldn't keep the satisfied look off of his face. "Two hawks for two questions answered honestly."
His grandmother actually looked flummoxed by that. It was an outrageous deal to have made with a god. It shouldn't have happened. She did recover quickly, she wasn't the Queen of Thorns for nothing. "What did you ask then?"
"She loves the Starks, not that she used those words. They impressed her, Sansa particularly. Our Goddess is most likely a protector at heart, she found the Starks' decision to fight the dead admirable, and their honorable traits appeal to her. There is no shaking that bond without the Starks betraying her." He drank of his wine, watching his grandmother digest that.
Olenna sighed. "I had hoped that was not the case. The simplest explanation though." She looked at him. "Your other question?"
"She likes Daenerys and puts a great deal of weight on her title of Breaker of Chains. Thinks she could be a good ruler but is not impressed by Daenerys' advisors, however. A thing she is aware we might endeavor to change, and would not oppose." Willas ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face. "I believe it's clear why she's left Cersei alive then."
Olenna chuckled. "She's leaving the bitch as a distraction to keep our southern and northern Queens from fighting each other. Daring, has set us on a path of alliance instead of war. And with the Lannister army conveniently eradicated the war against Cersei will be far less bloody once it begins in earnest. That show with the orphan girl in the town wasn't just a show."
"Rare for one with power to prioritize the life of those far beneath themself." Willas was still awed. He might have expected such altruism from the Maiden, perhaps the Mother. But from a goddess of Ruin? That it had taken so long to realize this simple aspect of her character was confounding.
Olenna gave a snort. And drank deeply of her wine. "Unusual, she doesn't seem to want anything but Sansa Starks' cunt."
"You should watch your tongue, Grandmother." Willas snapped, his eyes sharpening. "Being wrong on the character of another is rare for you, and no doubt has vexed you. But you were wrong. And we stand as a House that a Goddess is passingly amused by. You will not ruin that with your tongue."
She gave a sound of agreement. "Well, you've finally found a desire to lead then."
"Well, it was always Margaery who held our House's ambitions, and you." He looked at his cup of wine. "I was to be Lord and play the part of benevolent wealthy supporter to our beloved Queen Margaery. Times have changed." Willas looked at his grandmother. "We should ensure Jaime Lannister is not burned alive or eaten by a dragon or anything of the kind. He's our option to gain favor with our Goddess, the North, and more importantly, weaken Tyrion Lannister's position."
Olenna frowned. "Send him and the rest of our prisoners to the Wall then? That will cost us much to see done."
"Yes, and so long as Tyrion's older brother lives, he'll never have a truly secure claim to the Westerlands. Not enough to spend all his time in King's Landing." Willas held his grandmother's gaze. "He's a dwarf, has done little to gain favor with his father's bannerman, and brings a conquering Queen against them." Willas didn't need to mention Tyrion had no army of his own, only their Queen's. It would make gaining the Westerlands difficult, and more importantly, time consuming. Time that could not be afforded by a Hand of the Queen.
She gave a nod. "Time that we have to supplant his position of Hand of the Queen with you. The Kingslayer will most likely perish in the North."
"But he'll never escape the North. They hate him more than we do, having him and his surviving men as sacrificial soldiers on their ice wall will be a gift that no doubt the North would appreciate." Willas could live with Jaime fucking Lannister dying half frozen, ripped to shreds by the dead.
Olenna sighed before reaching out and taking his hand. "Then it would seem we have work to do."
Chapter 90Notes:Sup!
Chapter TextDaenerys felt her heart thud at the sight of Daisy sitting under a rose bush, her hands cupped around something silver and moving in a manner no metal should. She shook her head faintly and continued her steps toward the god. "Do I want to know what you are doing?"
"I don't know about you guys, but it's kind of expected to bring something back to your partner if you've been gone for a while." Daisy looked up at her. "And flowers don't survive the flight, or I haven't figured out how to keep them in one piece for it yet."
She paused. "Partner?"
"Paramour, lover." Daisy shrugged as if it wasn't a shocking level of equality to imply for a human.
Dany came to a halt not far from her. "Well, what are you making then?"
"Uh…a hair comb, thing?" Daisy's cheeks actually heated slightly. "I'm not really that good at art stuff."
She watched, fascinated as the silver that was moving in the air like liquid took the form of a delicate, decorative comb. The silver handle was in the shape of roses, an eagle across the bridge of it. It reminded her of the delicate metalwork of Qarth.
Daisy was frowning, as she kept one hand under the forming silver, while her other moved, lifting a box of sand? But it glowed, and it was…fascinating to watch the god mixing the two. Beautiful as well, the sand was turning to glass, it had a faint bluish tinge. It finally began to settle, before landing in Daisy's hand. "Well…it could be worse?"
"It's beautiful." Dany had never seen glass so fine and perfect before. She looked at Daisy and had the childish urge to whack a god. "The imperfections hardly take from the effect. I doubt your paramour will mind them."
Daisy did roll her eyes but seemed faintly pleased as she floated to her feet. "So, looking for me for a reason?"
"Is ignoring proper mode of address the only thing you use your divinity for?" Dany asked dryly. She'd found that for likely the most powerful…anything on the planet, the being was remarkably not an easily roused threat. And also, as the feast a few days past had proved, an entertaining dance partner.
Daisy just grinned. "It's the small things in life. And, if you want to fuck with people feel free to just use my name."
"I suppose we have the excess of titles in common." Dany agreed, she turned and began to walk, unsurprised by the god falling into step beside her. "I was informed you're leaving us this evening?"
"Jon's safe, and until your baggage and advisors catch up there's not a lot to do." Daisy's smile softened. "And I promised Rickon I'd be there for his nameday."
Dany wondered if the boy looked like a smaller Jon? She couldn't help the laugh at the thought of a tiny unbearded child with big sad eyes and a dour face. "Is he anything like his brother?"
"Sorta?" Daisy shrugged. "He's got dark reddish brown hair and blue eyes. Half feral, he's spent most of his childhood in the wilds with a direwolf and a Free Folk woman as his only companionship. Def has a more vicious streak to him than Jon. But…you can tell they're brothers."
She looked away, eyes finding Drogon's form circling high above them. "Do you have family?"
"If I have siblings no one told me." Daisy's voice changed slightly. "And well, my dad killed my mom so I wouldn't have to. But then I had to rip his mind out."
Dany's head snapped to the woman. "Excuse me?"
"You're not the only one with a fucked up family." Daisy rolled her eyes. "Like not gonna lie, your whole House has some real stand-out crazy fuckers. But not all of them were terrible." Daisy paused clearly seeing the outrage on her face. "Come on, we're going to the library."
Dany forced her dislike at hearing her House insulted down. "The library?"
"Whoever should have been preparing you for Westeros fucked up their job." Daisy threw her a look. "Do you want the truth about your House? Or lies that will lead you to either doing something stupid or insulting someone?"
Her teeth ground, but… she knew the god wasn't wrong. "Very well."
"I would say there's no such thing as bad information, but well there is." Daisy threw her a look. "And I think whoever told you about your House was a fan of it."
Dany felt a burning in her chest, that she refused to let loose. "Here to tell me I am descended of all evil men then?"
"Jesus, no." Daisy rolled her eyes. "You've got some cool ancestors. "Jaehaerys and Alysanne sound pretty awesome even if the sibling marriage thing is a terrible idea. And Jaehaerys sounded like a kinda crap father, but he did a lot of cool shit. Daren II was interesting to read about. Visenya is basically why your ancestors managed to build an empire and hold it. She gets way too little credit. Not that she wasn't a monster, but she solidified Targaryen power. King Egg had some good ideas if he'd had the power and will to see them done. Viserys II knew what he was doing even if he was barely on the throne." She looked at her. "You've got family who are worth emulating to one degree or another. Definitely, quite a few that are worth being proud of. Just like… not the last generation or so."
Dany fell silent for a long moment, she hadn't expected that. It was…more honest than most dared be to her. "And you know so much about my House how?"
"I cannot begin to describe to you how bored I am like…a lot of the time. I read everything in the Stark library, literally. Which in your whole negotiating with the Starks, bring up how both of your ancestors already agreed on a marriage alliance with the whole Pact of Fire and Ice thing."
Dany could…understand in part the sentiment. The long, endless riding with the khalasar before she knew the language came to mind. The endless idleness of moving from house to house with her brother kept silent and unnoticed. "The Starks kept books on my ancestors?"
"Burning books is bad." Daisy looked at her like that should be utterly obvious. "Anyone who starts burning books really needs to be stopped cause bad shit always follows it. But also, the whole know your enemy. And Targaryen history is the history of the united Westeros. Getting rid of your family's accomplishments is destroying their own history. I still don't get why your ancestors didn't call themselves Emperors, it's what they were. It's what you are."
Dany nearly stopped walking at that. Emperor? "And why do you think I'm an Empress and not a Queen?"
"Because you are?" Daisy sighed. "Look, queens rule single countries, maybe unite a couple to rule over. Emperors rule over massive amounts of territories that can stand as their own countries if they want. You have multiple formerly independent city-states, the Dothraki grass sea, and three to four kingdoms over here following you. That's Emperor shit."
Perhaps it was because the woman, being, beside her cared not at all for saying anything she did not mean, but her words struck Dany. Just a summation of greatness with no attachment or assumption of anything else. Simple acknowledgment. "You're not entirely wrong."
"I know." Daisy laughed. "You're forging something new, you should probably just go with it."
Dany shook her head. "You give strange advice."
"I'm from a different world, I think that's kind of a given." Daisy waved at the Dothraki guards as they passed out of the gardens towards the inner buildings of High Garden.
Dany noticed the acknowledgment between the two. "Do you know a single word of their language?"
"I know a song that I am totally positive is a dirty drinking song. And also pretty sure most of the cuss words." Daisy replied with actual glee audible in her voice.
Dany was…unsure how that was something to be happy about. "Do you wish to learn it?"
"They'll teach me the important bits." Daisy gave her a look that took a moment for Dany to realize was purely friendly. "And it gives me a great excuse to save Missandei from the nobility that think she's beneath them."
Which, Dany had seen the scar on the side of the god's neck, had heard her explain what her people had been made for. But this was why she found herself believing it. "Is that why you danced with her so often?"
"That and she unlike half the people around here isn't trying to get me to fuck them." Daisy's nose wrinkled. "Like I'm used to getting hit on, but this is just weird. Also gross because some of them don't even want to."
Dany hummed in agreement. "It's the price of power, all those who want it will want you that they might rip it from you."
"Depressing way to put it." Daisy sighed. "Not wrong though." She eyed her. "If you don't marry Jon, don't let them talk you into marrying anyone from High Garden who isn't Willas. He has a brain and is realistic about his chances for power."
Which was such an odd thing. "You haven't advised me to marry Jon?"
"It's your marriage. And…none of you want me interfering like that." She gave her a tight smile. "I'm kind of a fan of the whole freedom thing."
Dany looked at this god, destruction and freedom. It was interesting, and she could see it, had seen as she'd destroyed the slave trade in her conquest. Sometimes they were the same thing. "I assume you wish to advise me more than just to read on my ancestors?" She could humor the god in this, and she could admit she longed to hear of her family. She was the last, their legacy was her's, and her's alone to uphold.
"I mean if you want me to." Daisy brushed her blue lock of hair behind one ear. "But you should learn from others. And you've got hundreds of years of examples of that in books. Leadership was never really my thing. No one wants to follow the Destroyer of Worlds."
"That's ridiculous." Dany scoffed. "The entire Northern delegation is following your lead, the Tyrells certainly are looking to you for guidance, I've seen how those Order members of yours look at you."
Daisy paused slightly at that. "I'm not the one making decisions."
"No, you're not." Because if she wasn't, that didn't matter much. Dany wasn't blind to the fact Daisy was up to something, and certainly had a great many people doing as she wished.
They fell into a polite silence before Daisy broke it as they got closer to the Tyrell library, the opulence of High Garden on display all around them. "If you want to get Jon to talk to you without sounding stiff as a board, ask him about Ghost."
"Ghost?" She asked curiously.
Daisy grinned. "His direwolf, you're not the only one with terrifying magical animals."
Dany ran her fingers along the pages of the book on the rule of Jaehaerys I and his Queen Alysanne. It was a beautiful text, truly the pages were art as much as history. "I should have read this before."
"Your Grace?" Missandei asked from where she'd been organizing the stack of books that Daisy had insisted were important.
"I have had learned men of Westeros by my side since my marriage to Drogo. So many powerful men of learning. And not one of them told me half as useful a thing as Daisy did in handing me this one book." Dany looked at the stack of books on various rulers of Westeros and their deeds as well as one on the history of House Tyrell. Jorah at least had tried to gift her books, but Viserys had taken them and she knew not where they'd ended up.
Missandei carefully set a small book of Northern tales down. "Perhaps they thought you knew this already?"
"Did they? Or did they prefer me ignorant and dependent on their advice?" Dany touched the page again. "Give my excuses, I'll eat my dinner in my chambers tonight."
Missandei tipped her head slightly. "Of course your Grace."
"And Missandei," Dany smiled at her friend. "Unless you ask her not to, our living god fully intends to seek you out as often as possible."
////
Jon paused at the sight of Willas Tyrell waiting for him. Continuing forward he came the rest of the way into the room. "My Lord?"
"Ah, your Highness, please, join me." Willas gestured to the seat across from him.
Jon cautiously sat across from him, the midday meal already set at the table, though the proportions were not enough for them to be joined by more. "Is it just us then?"
"Her Grace has decided to spend the day in her chambers after visiting our library." Willas smiled at him lifting a cup of something sweet to his lips. "And her Holiness was last that I'm aware with the Dothraki."
He shook his head fondly at that. "Sounds about right." Jon settled, accepting he was eating a meal with the Lord of Highgarden. "And the rest of your household?"
"I asked they leave the two of us in peace for one meal." Willas tipped his head slightly. "I believed it was time we have a frank conversation, your Highness."
Jon knew he didn't particularly like Willas Tyrell. Not that he disliked him, but the Lord of Highgarden spoke little, rarely frankly, and the opulence of his dress felt wasteful. But Daisy didn't dislike him, which went a long way. "What is it you want to speak about then?"
"I mean no offense but if you mean to marry the Queen I'm sworn to I need to know. Who was your mother?" Willas didn't show disgust, his words plainly stated.
He swallowed but was honest. "I don't know, my father, Lord Stark never spoke of her."
"Well, that's unfortunate." Willas set his cup down. "I've sent letters to House Dayne in hopes they either are your mother's House or know who your mother was."
Jon felt his heart in his throat. "Why would you do that?"
"Because if your mother was Ashara Dayne this marriage alliance could gain Daenerys favor with Dorne as well as peace with the North. A thing I would prefer as it would make things easier politically." Willas lifted his fork and speared a piece of fish and ate it while looking at him curiously. "You disapprove?"
He had thought he'd given up on ever knowing who his mother was. Had accepted that it was not for him to know. But the painful pang at the Lord's words told him that had been a lie. He still cared. Deeply. "You would have me believe you do not care that I am a bastard? If my mother was of a good House, why would they acknowledge me after all this time?"
"You are certainly Ned Stark's son." Lord Tyrell cut his fish. "The fact you are a bastard certainly matters. But you are quite likely to be Consort to a Queen and Prince and Hand to another. Not even that touches upon the clear favor you hold with a living, breathing Goddess. If you think being a bastard will protect you from the rank you have come to hold you are gravely mistaken."
Jon hated that Daisy wasn't here. "I understand my duty."
"Your duty?" Willas let out a humorless laugh. "Well if duty is how you wish to speak of it, very well. You will have a duty to your wife if you are wed, and you are ill-prepared to do it. And I have a duty to my family and I require influence to do it. In this, our interests are aligned. I propose that we help one another."
He frowned but cut his own fish. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because my House and my people require stability. Stability that Daenerys offers. My youngest brother has sworn himself to your sister, and you find yourself in my home. I believe that means our interests are aligned." Willas lowered his fork. "I support your bid for an alliance with Daenerys and do what I am capable of to get what you require for the Dead to the North. In exchange, you take two squires of my choosing, your sister takes my cousin as a lady in waiting, you agree to a trade agreement between your kingdom and the Reach with your authority as Hand, and you support the appointment of myself, grandmother, or brother to Daenerys' small council."
Jon felt his frown deepen. "I won't agree to anything without my sister's approval."
"Then I believe you have a letter to write before her Holiness leaves for your sister." Willas paused. "And as a sign of goodwill, I assume your Wall could take the surviving Lannister men. Better on the Wall than burned alive for treason."
He paused and stared at the Lord, that was….nearly three thousand men. "I'll write my sister."
"Excellent." Willas raised his cup. "I believe we may yet be friends, Prince Stark."
Jon wasn't sure if that was reassuring or a threat. But…Daisy liked the Tyrells. And Jon could admit to holding some respect for Loras. He gave a sharp nod.
"In the meantime, what is the state of the Wall?" Willas' face was serious. As a man, he lacked the glibness his younger brothers sometimes held.
He braced himself. "We have manned it as well as we can, but it will not hold."
"What does it require?" Willas asked.
Jon crossed his arms. "What do you think?"
"I think Willas is doing what we want him to do." Daisy tucked the stack of letters into the inner lining of her vest before pulling the outer jerkin on over and beginning to lace it up. "The Tyrells are indebted to Dany and desperate to secure their position after changing sides. And they want Cersei's head on a stick."
Jon sighed. "I don't like them."
"Why not?" She lowered her hands looking at him with honest curiosity.
He grimaced. "They've been nothing but fickle. Look at these rooms? It may not be a lot to you, but it's a waste."
"Rich people are the same everywhere. And you grew up with clothes without holes which I can't say." There was a light reprimand there. "And wealth is power. They don't slap golden roses on every surface here because they're stupid and have too much gold." She shrugged, a slight tilt to her lips. "Well, mostly. And you know better than that too."
Jon gestured to the walls. "I do, but I know I'm not like these people. And I don't trust them."
"You shouldn't." Daisy stepped forward, laying a hand on his shoulder. "But you need 'friends' even if you can't make them allies. And right now the Tyrells are about to try and make a play for Hand of the Queen."
He paused. "Tyrion is the Hand of the Queen…but he's a Lannister and holds no power in Westeros unless Daenerys gives it to him. Are you going to suggest I go against my friend?"
"He might be your friend, but he's definitely not your ally. If he was he wouldn't have invited you to that joke of a first meeting with Dany. Or well, Sansa. But the Tyrells turning their support behind you is a good thing. And let them and Tyrion chew each other apart. Tyrion can handle it." Daisy squeezed his shoulder, before pulling back and continuing to lace up her jerkin.
With a sigh, Jon accepted she wasn't wrong. "Then I need to accept his offer at least in part till Sansa can approve me making a trade deal with them."
"Start with the squires." She offered.
He grimaced. "I'm not a knight."
"Yeah, that doesn't matter. That and talk to him about the logistics of getting the Lannister prisoners to the North. Probably also on what he thinks a fair trade deal is. If he doesn't do anything besides that for you, he's a dick, and drop it. If he repays that with assistance, then you know he means it, at least for now." Daisy finished off the last tie. "How much of that were you already planning on?"
Jon shook his head fondly. "Not the squire bit."
"See, you're not hopeless." Daisy's face had a playful expression on it. "And pro-tip, Dany, try talking to her about famous Targaryens and see what you both think of them."
He stepped closer to her. "I'll keep it in mind. Tell my siblings I love them, that I miss them."
"Of course." She touched his arm. "I have your letters for them. They know how much you love them."
Jon pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. "Thank you." He closed his eyes. "Fly safe."
"I'll be fine." She hugged him back, her grip tight. "Don't die while I'm gone."
He huffed. "I'll try not to."