"This is Gendry Baratheon," Jon said standing beside the smith.
Daenerys' eyes widened, as did those of everyone around them. Even Gendry, who turned to Jon. "What? I'm a Waters."
"I'm legitimizing you," Jon said patting his shoulder. "House Baratheon now rest with you."
"I thought you said to keep it quiet," Gendry said with a glance toward Daenerys.
"I think it best we're honest on all fronts," Jon said looking to his would be wives.
Daenerys let out a breath. "You're not your father. You clearly have no trouble working with Targaryens, and apparently love a Stark."
Gendry's cheeks flushed as Arya glared at Sansa, who bit back a smile, split between wishing she hadn't mentioned that to Daenerys and thankful for her saying it out loud.
"He's also the one who's going to begin crafting valyrian steel with your dragons."
Their shock somehow grew as they looked at the smith. "What?" Tyrion gawked. "That's… how did you-"
"Other than Bran, Arya and myself he's the only one who knows how to make it, and he's the only one understands it."
"If you know how then why not show every smith we can?" asked Tyrion. "Let them craft as many weapons as they can."
"Because it's a long, difficult process that requires specific timing and control," said Gendry. "Not many would even be capable of it, but Jon's agreed to let me have a small amount of dragonglass to forge a test batch. If I can't make it then we'll look for others."
"And it requires my dragons?"
"Their fire… and their blood," said Jon.
Daenerys eyes narrowed. "Their blood?"
"It'd be a small amount, a drop per weapon," Gendry explained. "With how big they are a small cut should give us enough for a dozen swords."
"We could use human blood," Jon explained grimly, "but it would require a person be drained entirely. And multiple people seems to make even more necessary. The one that requires the least blood is dragon's blood."
Daenerys' jaw shifted, all eyes on her. "How would you get it?"
When Viserion landed, people gathered along the walls of Winterfell to watch as he lowered his head to Daenerys' hand. She whispered to him, consoling him as he kept glancing at Jon nearing his wing with an odd cylindrical object.
"Shh, shh, it's okay," Daenerys told him shakily. "It will only last a second, I promise."
She watched Jon take a breath, pressing the thick needle between scales before driving it in. Viserion screeched, but Daenerys' patting his snout kept him from taking off while Jon quickly pulled the plunger and heard the container fill. After a moment, Jon pulled the large syringe out and let it sank to the ground while taking the wet rag he'd brought and pressing it to the wound. It soaked red, but when he pulled it away the hole had closed. What would have been a drop to them was a pint from a dragon. Enough to keep Gendry busy for weeks and still have plenty left over.
"You're so brave," she told Viserion as he looked from Jon to her. Once they'd stepped back the dragon took off. Daenerys watched him before turning to shoot Jon a glare. "This had better work."
Jon followed her toward Winterfell, looking from the sloshing container to the trio of dragons flying overhead. "It will."
Ellaria Sand wished that she could die, but they made sure she didn't. The new gag in her mouth kept her from biting her tongue, they shoved food and drink down her when she wouldn't eat. She even tried to hold off on using the chamber pot, hoping that might make her sick, but they came in and beat her until she could hold no longer.
They wanted her to live alone in that cell where she'd watched her daughter die. Where she spent days watching Tyene retch and cry as the poison ate away at her life. The life she and Oberyn had made together. The life she helped create.
She thought she would be in that room forever, but then one day the door opened and Cersei entered. Ellaria raised her head, watching the woman come to a stop before her with a smile that didn't seem to hold the joy it might have before, but made up for it in malice.
"I said last time I would return with a gift." With that she stepped back and looked to the door.
Ellaria weakly turned her head, but soon her eyes widened and she gasped watching as her daughter walked into the cell. She wore all black, not unlike Cersei herself, only with a belt around her waist. Her once copper skin now pale and grayed, the whites of her eyes black with dark red with blood. Ellaria gasped as her daughter came to a stop before her, staring vacantly at her own mother.
"She's not your gift," Cersei said smiling over the girl's shoulder. Looking from Ellaria to the risen Sand Snake she said, "Dear?"
Tyene reached back, removing a dagger from the back of her belt. She flipped it in her hand and thrust it into her mother's stomach.
"Your death is your gift," Cersei said watching tears leak from Ellaria's eyes. "Don't worry though. You'll have time with her. She'll make it slow."
Cersei stood back, crossing her arms and watching as Tyene twisted the dagger in her mother's stomach before ripping it out and stabbing her side. Slowly, the malice in Cersei's smile gained some of it's joy, each gagged grunt making it grow.
After supper Jon cited a need to speak about their plans for the south with Davos as an excuse to give Daenerys and Sansa time alone. They opted for a walk across the grounds.
"We usually meet in his solar to go over the day," Sansa told Daenerys once they were alone. "You're more than welcome, if you'd like."
"I don't want to intrude," Daenerys said with a grin.
Sansa flushed, shaking her head. "It's not… it's not always like that."
Daenerys laughed. "I knew you two wouldn't be so chaste."
"I wasn't lying before," Sansa assured. "We've been careful."
Daenerys nodded, impressed and amused. "I'd ask if he's good, but you have no real reference do you?"
"No, but he's good," Sansa said quickly, looking down. "I'm sure."
"Good to hear."
Sansa shook her head, looking to Daenerys. "You said Jorah Mormont is your Queensguard."
Daenerys nodded solemnly. "Though I guess I'm a princess again so he wouldn't be."
"I have Brienne and my Fireguard. No reason you can't have your own guards."
"Fireguard?" asked Daenerys.
"When we rode to face the Boltons I told Jon I wanted to be on the field and he gave me a personal guard so it wasn't just Brienne and Podrick. It's mostly free folk, and they say people with red hair are kissed by fire, so the others called them the fireguard." Sansa shrugged. "It's stuck, and though it's largely disbanded, I imagine I'll reform it once we set off."
"You were on the battlefield with him?" Daenerys asked, coming to a stop and turning to face Sansa. She'd assumed Sansa some meek maid, yet continued to be surprised.
"I wasn't fighting. I sat at the rear with a few other lords. I am learning, though. Jon and the others have been giving me lessons. Sadly I fear I'm the opposite of Arya." Seeing Daenerys' confusion she explained, "She calls her sword Needle. I doubt I'll ever wield a sword half a well as her, though my threaded needle is steadier than hers."
"You're surely better than me," Daenerys assured. "I let others wield my swords while I stay atop Drogon's back."
"Would you like to join us for our next session?" Sansa offered, a conspiratorial smirk following as she explained, "I convinced Jon to let some of the other ladies join our training. He'd gladly do the same for you."
"I had noticed women training beside men," Daenerys said thinking back to when she looked through the windows after her arrival, "girls alongside boys in the yard."
"Better to know they can defend themselves if they want," said Sansa. "This isn't a fight any can ignore."
When Daenerys had first spoken to Jon about the prospect of being his second wife she found it oddly serendipitous. After becoming Khalessi most saw her braided hair as honoring Dothraki tradition, or even Drogo. While that may have played a part, so did her Targaryen heritage and the stories of Visenya. Though her bloodline had died with her only son's death, Daenerys had looked up to her, ruling alongside Aegon the Conqueror, forming the kingsguard. She wasn't to be trifled with. Visenya had been everything Daenerys wished she was while Viserys had lived. And Visenya had wielded Dark Sister.
With a nod Daenerys said, "I think I'd like that."
Eventually they made their way to Jon's solar and found the table had been moved, leaving three chairs before the hearth. Sansa entered with a sigh. "Maybe we should start meeting in my room." Seeing Daenerys' arched brow she quickly explained, "I have the lord's room."
With a nod, Daenerys chuckled. "I shouldn't be surprised he wouldn't take it for himself."
"I had to force this on him," she admitted. "He was ready to take his old room outside the family quarter."
Moving to the hearth Daenerys nodded. "Back from when he was a bastard."
"My mother didn't like having my father's bastard around so kept him at a distance." She wore an odd smile, tinted with shame and solemn memories. "I was the only one who followed her example. The rest loved him like a brother, as they still do."
"At least it seems to have worked out in the end," Daenerys said looking to Sansa. "Now no thoughts of taboo sins should keep you from taking him into your arms."
Sansa sat in one of the chairs, smiling. "In truth, it was easy to transition him from half-brother to cousin since I'd started to lose those sisterly feelings by the time we left Castle Black."
Danerys smirked, sinking into the chair beside her. "Really? What changed it?"
Sansa took a moment to think back. "After everything at Castle Black I asked him where he'd go and he corrected me to say where would we go, and told me we'd come home, retake Winterfell. If another brother of the Night's Watch wasn't in the room I might have grabbed him and kissed him then and there." Sansa laughed. "I always assumed it was just my emotions being in chaos after his resurrection."
Daenerys' smile fell as she furrowed her brow. "What do you mean resurrection? The Red Woman, Melisandre, used it in her introduction of him and Davos mentioned him taking a knife to the heart."
Sansa let out a laugh. "I don't know why I assumed he would have told you. Others talk but I don't think I've ever heard him tell someone what happened." Sansa sat back with a sigh. "When he brought the free folk through Castle Black some of the Night's Watch thought him traitor, lured him into the yard and stabbed him to death."
Daenerys' head shifted. "What? How is he-"
"It was Melisandre," she said somberly. "After the free folk helped those loyal to Jon retake Castle Black she did some sort of ritual that brought him back."
Daenerys laughed grimly. "I'd assumed it was just a red priestess being grandiose as ever. And Tyrion assured me it an exaggeration of the north."
"It is hard to believe," Sansa admitted, "but I saw it. I held his body as his blood soaked the snow, before they carried him away and we holed up in the room to protect him. I don't even know why we did it. Even before we decided to ask her, we knew we had to protect him."
"I'm glad," said Daenerys.
Sansa snickered. "Truly? You wouldn't rather be rid of the King of the North?"
A rueful smile took Daenerys' lips. "I've grown used to him."
When he arrived sometime later, Jon blinked in surprise at the sight of them awaiting him. For some reason he'd assumed he'd spend the night alone. "Forgive me, ladies," he said closing the door and removing his cloak. "Tyrion asked me to join him for a drink."
"Which was surely followed by a second," Daenerys nodded.
Jon warily took the only remaining seat, beside Daenerys. With a look to her he informed them, "Gendry should be able to start forging tomorrow."
Daenerys's eyes shifted to the fire to avoid him, still a bit angry at his hurting Viserion, even if she knew it was necessary. Sansa put on a smile and looked to Jon. "Danerys has agreed to join me and the other ladies for your lessons."
Jon glanced at Daenerys, an odd smile taking his lips holding a hint of relief, as if something had clicked into place. "Good. I'll make sure you don't fall behind."
When morning came Sansa walked with Daenerys to the training yard with Jorah trailing behind them. Jon was stood speaking with Brienne, Podrick, Theon, Gray Worm and Missandei who was politely shaking her head. Some of the Dothraki looked on from the sidelines amused by the women gathered with weapons in hand.
While going through the drills Jon had given them, Sansa found herself looking over to him and Daenerys off to the side. He was hoping to catch her up to them while Brienne led the others in helping her and the rest of the women. His hand brushed Daenerys' when he went to fix her grip, but he pulled it back.
It was odd, she felt a flicker of jealousy, but it was also amusing to see him so hesitant with her. Even she seemed to avoid looking at him for a bit after she'd realized she had been staring at him while he spoke.
She knew early on she'd never truly have Jon to herself, and had feared this would mean she's have even less of him, yet when he glanced at her with a warm smile she doubted that. Maybe she wasn't losing a piece of Jon, but gaining one from Daenerys. Maybe they'd be stronger together, a pack, dragon and wolves united.