23

Sansa

With the weather as nice as it was today, it would be a crime to waste it indoors as Olenna has said so when she invited Sansa to join her and Margaery for lunch in their usual spot for tea and cakes.

They sat down at the table they once shared together many times when Sansa was just a prisoner of the Lannisters, only now Sansa was free and did not have to hide her true feelings or words.

"Tell me, my dear," Olenna began, "what do you plan for yourself once a resolve to all of this is found? I know you take your duties to your cousin seriously but I can see in your eyes that you long for the home you have been so far away from. Will you return?"

"I hope to, my lady," Sansa said, "but I do not know when the right time will be." She grabbed a piece of lemon cake and took a small bite. The Lannsiters ruined many of her favorite things, but they could not take her love of this delicious treat from her. "I insisted on coming to look out for Jon, but now that I'm here I get the feeling he wanted me for the sole reason that Daenerys Targaryen would be here as well. But what intention he had, I do not know."

Margaery leaned in, taking a piece of lemon cake for herself. "You've been spending a great deal of time together with the Dragon Queen though, more than anyone else outside her circle of followers has gotten the chance to. What's she really like?"

Sansa swallowed another bite of her cake. "There is a presence in her that I confidently say rival's Tywin Lannister's. She is a dragon and that part of her makes me worried about Jon. He's still a wolf deep down even though he's trying to be something else." She sighed out the helpless feelings she constantly had whenever she tried and failed to get through to him. "But then I can see how much the people that follow Daenerys love her and how true that love is. They don't follow her because she holds the power and rank, but out of true loyalty and faith."

"And she deserves it," Olenna said without holding back, "to all of them she has done impossible things for years. The King has done much for the realms in a few short months. But the real challenge is determining which of them truly deserve to sit on the Iron Throne."

Sansa felt taken aback. "You doubt the King who has done so much for you-"

"Now now, I'm not having second thoughts of my allegiance. But the Iron Throne is by far the most powerful symbol in all of Westeros. It takes the mightiest of people to truly tame it and throughout history, Targaryen, Baratheon, bastards, the Throne has become their master instead. King Aegon does have a powerful will in him, but we have yet to see its full fortitude against the real adversity and challenge yet to come. Politics are a cruel thing at times, my dear. Not everyone is made for them and the people needed never last long enough to make a lasting difference. Daenerys has years of experience ahead of Aegon and if she can prove herself to the nobility and common people then it will be her they will look to instead of Aegon. He is a good man, the best of them, but so was your father and it was those parts that made him a rare man that lost him the game." Olenna took a deep drink of her wine.

"Jon is much like my father… his entire life he always tried to live up to him, more than we did oftentimes. But he's also of his parents, I believe. Rhaegar and Lyanna."

Margaery turned to her grandmother. "You knew them when they were alive, didn't you, Grandmother?"

Olenna snorted. "I did, and their family before them." She shook her head. "He is a young Targaryen, and men from that family tend to go off following their hearts instead of their duty. The Targaryens of my day were all like that. Jaehaerys, Duncan, Daeron, all of them tossed away their courtly betrothals for love and look where that got them."

Sansa stiffened. "Much like my aunt and Prince Rhaegar. I don't think Jon's as rash as that, but he does tend to do things before thinking hard about them. And when he is impetuous, that's when people tend to be angry at him."

Olenna leaned back after taking a bite of her fig. "I heard there had been an argument between you and the King regarding a marriage proposal. Who was it he tried to arrange for you? Not some dumpy simpleton I hope."

"No, it was Gendry Baratheon."

"Really?" Olenna sat back up with interest. "I don't think it was his birth that made you say no, my dear. And I can't say it is his looks either because he certainly has a few noble girls moistoning between their legs when he walks by. Strong, handsome, powerful, and not a drunken whoremonger like his idiot father."

"And currently in the sights of my sister," Sansa finished, "besides I've had too many forced marriages, I don't want another, or any at all I think."

"Truly?" Margaery asked. "The ones you had to bear were at the wills of cruel people, Sansa. You do not trust your cousin to find you someone?"

"The scars of my last marriage still stain my mind, Margaery. I'm through with being the pawn of men for their gain."

"Then why not take a paramour for yourself? Men do it, so why can't we?" Sansa did not reply except with a light shake of her head. She was still afraid of what she would feel if a man touched her, if the painful memories of those nights with Ramsay would haunt her still. "Or perhaps a mistress?"

"Margaery!" Sansa was both aghast and amused at the idea but Margaery was giggling at the reaction.

"You are a wolf now, but I'm glad to see some of the Sansa I used to know still there."

"My dear," Olenna took Margaery's hand in hers, "I do believe this is the first time I've heard that beautiful laugh of yours since I nearly lost you and Loras."

Margaerys squeezed her grandmother's touch. "It's good to have something to smile about, grandmother."

Olenna smirked. "Since we're on the subject, I can tell you a great deal that there is much to explore when dealing with the same sex. Why, there was a time in my youth that I seduced a widow to help Luthor gain acquaintance with a shipping company."

"Grandmother!" Margaery exclaimed in laughter, while Sansa merely shook her head, blushing madly. "I don't want to picture this, please!"

"The lessons to be learned far outweigh the things you'll picture."

"Please, just this once, leave us uneducated?"

Olenna started giggling. "I am only joking with you both… or am I?" She plucked a fig and chewed it in blissful silence, enjoying the twisted faces of Sansa and Margaery. "But Margaery is right, Sansa. You shouldn't isolate yourself from the realm of comforts or pleasures under the sheets. Believe me, there will come a time when you are old that it's no longer as much fun as it was in youth and you should enjoy it while you can."

Sansa sighed. There was a part of her, albeit subconscious or instinctual, that felt the desire to do those sorts of things, but they were chained up by the fear and pain Ramsay had inflicted on her. "I can't," she whispered. "The things Ramsay did to me will never leave. The marks he left can't be seen but I can feel them. His voice whispers in my head when I lay in bed at times. I thought I could feel free when I saw his torn apart body, but he's still there."

There was silence from all of them and Sansa could see the same eyes that held pity and sympathy for her the day she told them how much of a monster Joffrey really was.

Margaery slipped her hand to intertwine with Sansa's but said nothing. Olenna gave what wisdom she could. "I have not suffered as you have, Sansa, but I have still in different forms. The loss of my husband, my son, many of my grandchildren, the wounding of my granddaughter, these pains hurt me more than anything I have ever felt. But I do not hold onto them, never. Neither must you. If you wish to be destroyed as a person, then keep these memories alive and harbor them inside as you have. If you wish to find peace and truly leave them behind, then seek out the best you can experience in life, love, and pleasure."

The words felt harsh and direct, two things no one wanted to hear but sometimes needed. But words were easier said than done at times. Was it truly just a matter of doing the deed and getting it over with though? If that were the case, she may just find a brothel and a good handler but that would probably make things worse. Maybe she did need to find someone she could trust. For a split second, she reconsidered Jon's idea of an arranged marriage between her and Gendry, but Arya would never forgive her. She shut the idea out of her head.

"Why not offer your hand to the King?" Olenna asked.

"What?" Sansa asked, startled by the question. "He's my broth- he's family."

"He's a Targaryen, they've wed brother and sister for hundreds of years but just about every House has married cousins before."

"He is like a brother to me. We grew up that way."

"My child, you cannot hide the longing in your eyes when you two are together. I've seen it enough times to recognize the subtleness of it and it is there, do not deny it. The King is handsome, strong, and a good man, every quality a woman dreams of."

The conversation stopped as the noise of laughter took their attention to a spot in the gardens where Daenerys Targaryen and her handmaiden, Missandei, were walking along as casual to each other as friends.

"Ah, yes," Olenna continued, "and then there is the one the King's eyes are filled with longing for, and she is his aunt, so don't expect him to be opposed if you tried to present yourself to him."

Sansa became sullen. "Except why wouldn't he long for a woman like her? She's not beautiful, she's heavenly. She can present herself as powerful as Tywin but also be as gentle and radiant as a Queen should be."

"So can you, Sansa," Margaery defended.

"In the logical sense of things," Olenna said, "Aegon and Daenerys together is the obvious choice. But from everything I have seen, he does what he can to keep her distant from him. And as our negotiations showed, he doesn't want things to end with him remaining as King."

Sansa could almost understand. Jon always said he was doing this because he had to, not because he wanted to.

Olenna finished the last bite of her fig. "Tyrion's proposal was in all things very reasonable, but I do not understand why Aegon rejected it so angrily. I noticed the most unease in him when there was mention of finding a wife and fathering an heir."

Sansa added her thoughts to the matter. "Perhaps the oaths of the Night's Watch still hold onto him to some degree. The only way to shield the realms of men is to wear a crown."

"Perhaps," Margaery agreed before looking back to Daenerys and Missandei. "What do you suppose the Dragon Queen thinks of King Aegon?"

"That's easy," Olenna said with a wave of her hand as though to brush the obvious aside, "envy for having what she wants, anger for doing everything she meant to before she could, at least that was the first impression I saw from her. But now, I can see it changing. Respect, confidence, bewilderment, and I did catch a glimpse of her looking at him with eyes of a smitten maiden."

Sansa felt herself tense. "Did you?"

Olenna chuckled. "She thought she was alone when she did and when you're as old as me and spent as much time with the delightful youth like yourselves, you pick up an eye that catches the subtle hints in the body women give when they admire and long for a man." Olenna went quiet, raising her brow and tilting her head towards Sansa.

Margaery giggled as she ate the last bit of her lemon cake. "Well the feeling is growing in the Red Keep."

They're conversations were interrupted by one of the servant girls, Irena from the rookery, entering under the canopy. "Pardon the intrusion, Stewardess, but a raven from Winterfell just arrived and the King seems to be unfindable." She presented the scroll to Sansa and scooted off on her way.

Sansa broke the seal and unfurled the scroll. The moment she read the first line, she gasped and broke down into tears of joy.

To Sansa, from your brother Bran

I have come home and await to see you and Arya and Jon return to us too. I have much to tell you and want to hear all you have to tell me. I can't explain much of the things I've done in this letter, but I can say that I know we will see each other soon. I love you.

"What is it?" Margaery asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Sansa cried in joy, "my brother Bran's made it home. He's alive!" Sansa found herself hugging Margaery as tightly as she could. The day was a rough start, but now it was the brightest one in a long while.

Varys

The shadows of the stairwell were darkened by the waning of day, giving just enough shade to hide in plain sight for as long as was needed and enough light to read the scrolls from the Little Birds in Dorne and White Harbor. For anyone who was not the fabled Spider, they could not read in this dim corridor, it was far too dark. But for the trained eye of a spymaster, it was perfectly fine.

Varys viewed the contents of the missive from Dorne first.

The Daynes and the Fowlers are going to declare loyalty to King Aegon Targaryen, but the Fowlers seek to gain the King's eye with one of the Lord's twin daughters or both. Atticus Dayne has a relic he will use as a gift.

Well this was interesting. Two of three Houses of Dorne with the blood of the First Men declaring for a King with closer ties. And the Daynes were kin to Jon Snow though the relation is quite thin in this generation. But the Fowlers, if Lord Franklyn could not get a daughter or both into Aegon's bed, which from all impressions Aegon had given was going to be a fruitless endeavor, then would he still declare? He would set his eyes on the Fowlers for now and wait for Atticus Dayne and his retinue to arrive before exploring further on them.

Varys unraveled the scroll from his bird in White Harbor and found the contents just as intriguing.

There are many ships coming from Dragonstone with strange black rocks in crates going to all the larger keeps. They call it Dragonglass. Manderly smiths are making them into weapons to fight against the army of the dead. There are rumors that the Glovers and other Northmen are displeased with the current rule. They want the southern reinforcements out of their homeland and the North to have independence from the Iron Throne.

It sounded like the North was going to be well equipped for the war with the dead, but would there be enough men to use what they have prepared? If the Glovers go further with their discontent and start a revolt, they may gain the support of other Houses. Ned Stark commanded their loyalty during his lordship and Robb Stark led his men into a perfect streak of battle that no man has ever done in the last thousand years. Unfortunate that both of them died because their honor blinded them to deceit.

Did Lady Sansa share their sympathies, loyal as she was to her cousin? That remained to be seen.

Tonight the whispers from Winterfell would be delivered to him. He would soon know just how well on track Rickon Stark was to fill in the boots of his father and brother and if he was seeking to wear a crown of the North.

Varys tucked both hands into his robe while pondering his worries the second scroll gave him. The North was going to be the staging ground for this war with the White Walkers and if it sheds blood before they arrive then it shall be nothing more than a splintered shield. Perhaps some espionage on Lord Robett was in order, something that shut the ranks up and sent him to the block or the Wall. He chose not to fight for the Starks against the Boltons, what other actions has the man done that can exploit just how foolish his pride is?

The sound of boots tapping on stone made Varys stand up straight and immediately walk down the corridor. With his hands tucked into his robe and his right still holding both of the scrolls, he slid them into the slit in the fabrics to hide them from any man who may search his body.

To his utmost surprise, it was no guard, or maid, or any other member of staff he met, but King Aegon himself.

"Lord Varys," the King said when they met each other.

Varys bowed his head in a slow but respectable fashion. "Your grace, it is a pleasure to meet you in person. But without the company of your Kingsguard? Where is Lord Beric off to if not his sacred charge?"

"Investigating a potential hive of Sparrows in the city that still carry out their extreme ways. I sent Ser Jaime with him too, so it is just me."

"But you inducted a third man into your guard, did you not? Remus of House Ashwood?"

"Aye, but he's been up for two days straight. He needs sleep. And I am more than confident about my safety in the Red Keep." He patted the Valyrian steel sword sheathed at his hip. Varys was under no illusions he knew how to use it better than nearly all.

Varys grew quiet for a moment, scanning the King up and down. In the dark it was almost like looking at a shadow of Rhaegar but with Ned Stark's eyes and coloring. Interesting.

"Was there something you wanted?"

"For one thing, I was hoping you might confirm a whisper I heard that sounded uncertain. Petyr Baelish led the Knights of the Vale to the North but he is neither in Winterfell, nor the Vale, nor anywhere to be seen. Did he perish in battle or on a block?"

"There was no block when I took his head the night I met him, and neither was there a grave for him. Just a lazy pyre to burn the corpse and the plots."

Varys involuntarily gulped. So soon for a man to lose his head after introduction? Either Littlefinger's silver tongue turned to lead against Aegon or there wasn't a single thing he could turn to his advantage to keep himself alive.

"I guess that it was his overly fond company of Lady Sansa that led to such immediate distrust."

The King's eyes darkened. "Aye, and that he sold her to our brother's murderer to marry a monster." However much anger he involuntarily gave off, the King looked at Varys with eyes that did not want to delve any further into the subject and Varys wordlessly agreed. May his rival rest without peace.

"I'm surprised such a moment did not garner a story among the people. They certainly speak as fond of you as the people of the Bay of Dragon's did for Daenerys when she began her campaign."

"I've hardly done a thing for them except fix the sewers."

"Believe me, to them that is plenty." His attempt to lighten the mood didn't work. "You've shown that they matter to you and that is more than they have had in years. They had a taste when Margaery had Tommen under her thumb, but Cersei made certain that didn't last. With you they are receiving more. But you are right, you haven't done much for them. Hinder too long and Queen Daenerys will earn their love in your stead."

"She certainly has the time for it. I'm simply trying to keep them fed and alive for the coming winter, but still that's not enough it seems. The Glovers are in unrest with the current rule and so are about a dozen other houses throughout the country."

Varys found himself stunned to hear that the King knew of Glover's state of affairs before he did. Either Qyburn was truly a new rival when it came to discovering whispers or something else was in play he could not see.

And why does he casually divulge his weaknesses… Does he know I know? "And might I ask how you plan to deal with such potential treason?"

"I have a few ideas. Political hostages for one, I'm sure I can find a betrothal for Robett's granddaughter in a place she would love to be warded at, and I saw to it that one of their vassals became directly sworn to House Stark for their loyalty throughout the Bolton's occupation. And if those do not work, then find a black cloak and a place at the Wall for Lord Glover."

Varys was impressed further. The Glovers were an ancient House of the North and any man of the south would have gone straight to calling the plotting treason and taking heads, but King Aegon was displaying a great deal of preserving lives than taking them, Littlefinger being a perfect exception that proved the rule. His crimes had been great enough and his danger strong enough to warrant execution.

"Long has the Iron Throne stood without a worthy man to sit upon it and now I live to see it, something I feared I would never do."

"What are you getting on about?" The King asked.

"I serve the realm, your grace. And you have united it faster and bloodlessly than any King before you. Not with fear, but respect, mercy, and good will. You are the male heir to the throne and you have every right to it."

There was a short silence between them before the King narrowed his eyes. "I'm waiting for you to say 'but.'"

"But nothing. The realms need one who unites them and you have done that with honor, justice, and mercy. Daenerys may have been able to, had you not beat her to it, but not without fire and blood, and the realm would have been scarred and remember the lives that were taken by the Queen at the head of a foreign army." He took a step closer. "I can offer you guidance and secrets that can help you keep this peace you so desi-" Varys was cut off by a strong hand grabbing at the collar of his robe and pushing him up against his neck, pinning him to the wall and choking him at the same time.

Eyes of raging fury burned into Varys and for one of few times in his life he was terrified of the man in front of him.

"If you ever…" the King growled like a wolf and a dragon combined, clearly ready and willing to rip him apart without even drawing his blade. "...Dare to betray her, I'll rip out your tongue with my bare hands before I kill you." The King threw Varys to the steps. "I won't tell her of this. Consider that my only mercy for you." With that he walked off immediately.

Varys coughed for air and rubbed at the pain in his neck. He did not expect that level of response at all, but thinking about it… perhaps he should have. Though the King was a Targaryen, he was as much a Stark, with a quick temper and slow mind. That combined with a dragon's fire… But all in all, the bluff went well.

This man who shed a tear at the sight of the Queen, who trembled in her presence and held such pain when he looked at her, also had a great fire within to protect her as well. This was a fierce desire as well, but was it love? He couldn't tell just yet but he would be more inclined to wager that it was, or at least it is what drove the King.

Clearing his throat, Varys tucked his arms in his robes and walked calmly through the shadows. Rather than risk an awkward confrontation with the guards and King Aegon again, he found his bearings and counted the tapestries until he found the one he was looking for. When House Lannister was ruling, there used to be a fierce lion mauling fleeing rabbits. Now it was something of a scenic mountain overlooking a forest at sunrise, made from the North. Lady Sansa's doing, no doubt. Certainly better taste than Cersei's. Far more subtle too.

He reached behind and pressed on the uppermost stone, third from the right, and the wall pushed in. He smiled at the use of the secret passageway, something no one had the advantage of in this castle but him.

The secret stairwell led to the apartments, even in the dark there was no fear of navigation. Varys came out unseen and only two rooms away from where his Queen resided. He passed by the Dothraki guards without a second look.

"Your Grace," Varys announced as he entered, "I've just stumbled upon a piece of information that will prove insightful." He found her sitting on a chair next to her window with a glass of wine in her hand. She looked like she had just been spending the last hour in intense thought.

"What is it?" she asked, setting down her wine on the windowsill.

"I met with Aegon just now and made a gambling move. I pretended to offer my services to your nephew, a simple play of words and pointing out a few obvious achievements of his, and convinced him I would in fact switch sides in favor of him over you. The reaction he gave was… a degree I did not expect." Daenerys arched her brow at him, but allowed him to continue. "He threatened a quite painful death should I ever betray you, and for a rare time in my life, I was genuinely afraid that I would not live to see tomorrow."

"And why did you take this gamble upon yourself? What was it you wished to find?"

"Treachery can show a true color that is often hid in others, your grace. He carries enormously strong feelings of protection for you, despite barely knowing one another. One would think he's already fallen to the deepest parts of love for you…" He noticed the slight twitch in Daenerys' face. He paused, his body moving in just the right way to let her know that he noticed.

She sighed, rising from her chair and looking out the window. "After our attempted negotiations, he… he kissed me in the gardens."

He gave a pregnant pause. "I am heartened to see that he is not someone like Stannis, blind to all but duty and ambition. Only a man such as him could be blind to your beauty."

Daenerys was not amused by the comment. "My nephew is not Daario, one whom I can be free to merely lust."

"I agree that it is far more complicated." Varys took a step closer to her. "Despite the unity of the heads of each realm, loyalty to him is fickle when observed closer. The Lords in the Westerlands still hold powerful loyalty to the legacy of Tywin, whispering ideas of liberating Cersei and Jaime to rally behind them. Several Riverlords who surrendered to the crown after the Red Wedding are angry that Aegon casts no favorable eye to them, and the Stormlords grow concerned that their newly appointed liege is a bastard of Flea Bottom and nowhere to be seen in Storm's End." Daenerys turned, eying him with a morbid curiosity. "And the North desires independence. Only he, do they follow, and some not even that."

"His own people would betray him?"

"They would betray anyone who doesn't give them what they want, and Aegon isn't doing it." Varys regarded Daenerys with analytical eyes. "There are three reasons why he could be operating the way he is rather than actively dealing with the threats. The first is clear to most, he's as honorable as Ned Stark was and determined to fight the White Walkers above all else. He would rather risk minor rebellions than spill needless blood."

"He doesn't want to spill needless blood," Daenerys agreed. "But he isn't foolish that way."

Valid, he supposed. "The second is that he tries to appear more like his mentor, Jeor Mormont, commanding and firm to all who follow, but inside he is attune to tricks and cutthroat actions, merely letting things run their course to smoke out his enemies. The fate of one of my old rivals lends credence to that… though Aegon doesn't seem the type for such a radical change."

"People change to suit their times. I should know."

"Yes, quite." From a small, frightened girl to the Mother of Dragons. Quite the transformation. "The third option is the most unlikely, but…"

Daenerys finished the sentence for him. "He's sincere in his desire to bind our causes together out of familial love... and perhaps more." A smile played at her lips, the prospect welcomed by her. "That he wishes us to be a family, and is willing to endure these pinpricks to ensure an orderly acceptance among both his followers and mine."

"Careful, your Grace. It is not wise to look at things in an overly optimistic manner. So many have had their dreams burned to a crisp because they did."

"Good thing I am immune to fire."

"Your Grace…"

"I know, I know." Daenerys picked up her goblet, sipping at it. "Then again, perhaps it's not a familial need, but just a desire to end the fighting. Maybe he does simply just want peace for the sake of it. Is that all, Lord Varys?"

He sighed. "That is all. When I have more information, I will present it to you."

"Very good. You may leave." Polite for demanding he go. Varys obeyed.

Walking briskly back to his quarters, he had plenty he wished to discuss with Tyrion when they got the chance. Both monarchs were optimistic, to the point of foolishness. He needn't not be a divinator to predict plenty of scheming and backstabbing in the near future.