Dragon at the Window

Royalty had its perks, that was true.

But there were times when it was a total pain in the ass.

Such as now. Sansa rolled her eyes, relaxing into the back of her chair as the lords argued about meaningless problems that could literally be fixed already if the lords weren't so insistent on having their solution be the solution. Catelyn sent her a scalding look and Sansa sighed, straightening her back once more. She was usually compliant, keeping good posture before others but this meeting had been going on for hours and her back ached.

Her father, Ned Stark, seemed to share her exasperation. He slammed his palm onto the table. "Enough!" He bellowed. "Lord Cerwyn, you and Lord Manderly are to work together and figure out a solution. If this is not solved within the week, there will be repercussions. Dismissed."

Sansa slouched down in her seat, sending her father a grateful look. Beside her, Robb groaned, resting his head in his hands. "Why must they be so stubborn?"

"They're northerners. They're all hard-headed," Catelyn said, looking pointedly at her husband.

"That sounds like you, Robb."

"Sansa!" Her mother scolded. "Apologise to your brother."

"What? He is!" Sansa said, pushing her chair back to stand and stretch. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I do think I'll be retiring for the night." She didn't bother waiting for permission. She was tired of all this.

Being a princess was painful. Sure, she had power, wealth, fame, all that, but she never got any peace. Guards followed her wherever she went and she was never allowed to lock herself away in her room. There was always some 'royal duty' she needed to do somewhere. Most of the time it was just being present somewhere. For no obvious reason.

It made it even worse when the northernmen were, in fact, hard-headed. The Northern Kingdom had always been independent. It had allies in the South and trade agreements with other kingdoms but no real contact otherwise, and the people knew that. They knew that the North worked differently, that they had power in their words, and they took advantage of that. Too many generations of too much freedom did lead to stubborn lords, though. Ones that spoke their mind when not necessary.

Her father dealt with it well, though. As king, Ned Stark had to deal with even more than she did and was the one that had to keep them all down to earth. She couldn't imagine the difficulty of that task but he was a man with a reputation. Everyone knew about how honourable he was, how he was a peacemaker. The lords knew this. They respected that. Most of them.

Sansa fell onto her bed, groaning as she hit the soft mattress. She envied her younger siblings, having time to run around and play while she had to sit in on each meeting even when she played no part in it. Perhaps then she could actually form a relationship with her siblings. She and Arya hated each other, Bran and Rickon treated her as if she was a distant cousin, Jon treated her as if she was superior to him and Theon just straight up avoided her. Robb was the only one she had any form of relationship with, often times sneaking in a conversation whenever the lords got too loud.

Sansa removed her outer clothing, leaving only her slip on. She settled into her furs with a book in her hands and her direwolf settled by her feet.

Her wolf was a gift to her after her brother Jon found six pups next to their dead mother. Sansa had received a female pup that she had named Lady, a white wolf with a grey-brown brindle on her back and shoulders. She'd had Lady for coming on nine months, enough time for her to grow so large that her head reached Sansa's shoulder.

She read her book in silence for a while, focusing on the words on the page and not on the life she lived. She felt Lady shift by her feet and heard her begin to growl. Sansa placed her book to the side crawling to the foot of the bed to stroke Lady's fur. "What is it?" Lady only snapped her jaws and snarled at the balcony.

Sansa leaned closer, trying to look through the curtains and saw an odd looking shadow being cast onto the curtain. It was small, looking to be about one or two feet tall and twice that long. It was climbing up the curtain, a lot like the domestic cats Sansa had once seen when a foreign lady had brought some of her pets. It shuffled enough to peek its tiny head through the curtains and into the room.

Its head was oval shaped, very smooth on all the edges. It had a scaly looking pattern to it and little horns sticking out the back of its head. The scales were completely black, with two glowing orange eyes peering up at her. Sansa stayed quiet as it watched them, waiting. It seemed to have decided that they were no threat because it leapt off the curtain, opening two large wings and flapping over to the dresser, settling on top of that and starting to nose around. It had two legs plus the wings and a long tail that made up half its body length, covered with tiny frills that travelled from its neck to its tail tip. The membrane stretched between its wings was a dark red, looking a bit purple as well.

Lady barked at it. The dragon jumped, looking over at her and hissing. Sansa set a hand on Lady's head to calm her and stood from her bed. She crept closer to the little dragon (for what else could it be) and it watched her warily. It growled in warning when she got to close and Sansa paused, only a foot or so away from the dragon. It stretched its neck out to sniff at her, puffing out smoke when it exhaled. Sansa stood as still as she could as the dragon nosed at her clothes.

Seemingly satisfied the dragon hopped off the dresser and grabbed onto her slip. Sansa yelped as it swung from her chest, stumbling back. It climbed up onto her shoulder and sat there while purring contentedly. Lady jumped off the bed and snapped at the dragon, only a little out of reach. The dragon squeaked at her direwolf and flared its wings threateningly. Lady growled and stalked off.

Sansa sat down on her bed. "Where do you come from, little one?" Sansa said to the dragon, reaching her hand up for it to rub against her hand. "There should not be a dragon in the North." The dragon only nuzzled at her cheek and purred louder.

It suddenly froze, lifting its head up to look out the balcony. Sansa could faintly hear a voice calling out, saying the name "Drogon!" over and over. She stepped over to her balcony, looking over the side to see a young girl with silver-white hair walking around beside the castle, calling out for Drogon. The dragon climbed off her shoulder onto the balcony railing, shrieking loud enough for the girl to hear. Her head snapped up to look at Sansa. "Drogon!" She exclaimed. "Oh, sweetling, what are you doing?"

"Is it yours?" Sansa called down to her from her second-story room.

"Yes, he's mine. Now come back down here, Drogon!" The girl scolded. She looked back over at Sansa. "I'm so sorry for him, he doesn't listen very well."

"He didn't make any trouble," Sansa waved it off. She nudged Drogon's back and tipped him off the balcony, him squealing in indignance as he opened his wings and spiralled down to the girl. She made a hasty departure, waving back at Sansa as she fled into the surrounding city. Sansa backed away into her room. Lady looked up and checked for Drogon, seeming satisfied when she saw that Drogon had left. Sansa fell back into her bed and sighed. A dragon? Who knew?

How much Arya would give to see that.

Back Once More

Drogon returned the next night. He didn't even bother with the stealth this time, instead flying straight through her curtains and deciding that landing on top of Lady was a wonderful idea. Lady snarled, twisting around to snap at Drogon but he only crawled up and held onto her neck as she thrashed trying to get at him. Sansa sighed. "Drogon, come here."

She wasn't really expecting him to listen to her but surprisingly he did. He crawled over onto her lap and settled on her stomach, letting out a puff of smoke. Sansa stroked his back, rubbing at the scales and resting her book against his neck. Lady eyed Drogon warily but relaxed back against Sansa's leg even if she didn't dare take her eyes off of him.

Drogon perked up and Sansa once again heard his name being called. Drogon nuzzled the palm of her hand before he flew back out the balcony. Sansa sighed and Lady finally dropped her head back down, satisfied.

Again he returned. The third night he flew in and landed beside Sansa, not laying back down but just sitting there are staring at her expectantly. Sansa raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" He squealed, jumping up and down impatiently. When he heard his name once more being called Drogon grabbed the sleeve of her slip and tugged her toward the balcony. Sansa followed him out to greet the other girl. Drogon sat himself down on the balcony and looked down at his… owner?

"I'm so sorry he keeps disrupting you, I swear I'm trying to keep him away-"

"No, no, he's no bother," Sansa said, stroking his back. "He's a fine little dragon, if a bit disrespectful." Drogon puffed his chest out at the compliment, sitting back with his head held high. "He can stay if he likes."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." Sansa paused. "If this is to become a regular occurrence, perhaps we should exchange names?"

The girl sighed. "Very well. I am Daenerys."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." Sansa could see her blush from up there. "I am Sansa."

"Sansa? As in the princess? Oh my gods, I can't believe this, I'm so sorry my lady, I did not mean to bother you-"

"Stop it, please," Sansa groaned, putting her hands on her temples. "I can only take so many titles in one day. Just Sansa. Please."

"O-oh. Okay." Daenerys was quiet. "Drogon- what exactly is he doing with you?"

Sansa rested her elbows on the railing. "I'm not entirely sure. All he's been doing is lounging on my bed. He isn't even bothered by my direwolf."

"How does your direwolf feel about him?"

"Lady? She hates him, but she isn't hurting him." Sansa saw the reluctance on her face. "Don't worry, Drogon is fine. I won't let him get injured."

"Alright." She looked at Drogon. "You don't happen to just be doing this for a bed, now, would you?" Drogon shrugged helplessly. Sansa laughed.

"You wouldn't mind visiting every so often, would you?" Sansa asked. "You're much better company than any of the lords. They're all so formal and stiff."

Daenerys looked startled. "You're not disgusted by me?"

"Why would I be? You're very polite, and also quite beautiful."

"But- I'm a street rat. How could a princess ever want my company?"

"You've never been exposed to the ways of royalty. It's a welcome relief." Sansa shifted off her elbows. "You don't happen to have any folks, would you?"

"No. None. Only my dragons." Drogon purred, looking pleased with himself.

"Dragons? Drogon isn't the only one?"

Daenerys shook her head. "He's got two brothers, Rhaegal and Viserion. Not nearly as much of a nuisance as he is." Drogon squeaked indignantly and both girls chuckled.

Drogon, seemingly bored of all the talk, grabbed Sansa's sleeve and pulled her back into the bedroom. "Will I be seeing you again soon?" Sansa asked.

"I'll come by in the morning to pick up Drogon, but if you want I can return here tomorrow night?"

Sansa smiled. "I'd love that."

Consultation

Drogon came by each night, Daenerys always with him. She and Sansa would speak of many things, Daenerys often relaying troubles that the townspeople faced and Sansa telling her about all that went on during the council meetings. Daenerys gained intel on the progress of issues and Sansa was getting information to relay to the council about what the townspeople needed. Sansa was often questioned on how she knew what she did but all she ever said was that she 'observed and empathised.' No one had any evidence of anything else, so she was left be.

Sansa's affection for Drogon grew along with her friendship with Daenerys. She learned about how terrible Daenerys's life was and her pity for the poor girl grew. Drogon was growing slowly bigger, at least five feet long by now. Lady had grown accustomed to him but that didn't mean she liked him yet. Tolerated would be a better word.

At one point Sansa decided it was time to learn a bit more about Drogon, or dragons in general. The first place she thought to go to was Arya. Her younger sister was obsessed with the Targaryens and their dragons, looking up especially to the female dragon warriors. Sansa sought her out one night after dinner and found her out in the courtyard playing with Nymeria.

"Arya?" She turned to see who called for her and looked surprised to see Sansa. "Can I speak with you?"

"Sure," Arya said slowly. They didn't have the best relationship and never really spoke, so it was no surprise that Arya was a bit wary.

Sansa sat down on one of the benches, Arya sitting down beside her. "You like dragons, do you not?" Sansa began.

Arya furrowed her eyebrows. "I do. Why?"

"I would like to know more about them. Would you be willing to tell me?"

"I guess," Arya said. "But why?"

Sansa shrugged. "Curiosity." Arya narrowed her eyes but didn't push.

"Alright. What do you want to know?"

Sansa thought about it. "How big do they grow to?"

"The biggest was Balerion the Dread, who was over a thousand feet long." Sansa was startled by that fact and was sure it showed on her face. Would Drogon grow to be that big?

"How quickly do dragons grow?"

Arya shrugged. "I'm unsure of the specifics. They grew as long as they had food and freedom."

"What exactly do they eat?"

"Meat. Farm animals, wildlife, whatever they could find. That's why the Dragonpit was made; to stop dragons from eating the livestock." That could perhaps become a problem. She hoped Daenerys had a way to deal with that.

"Tell me about their riders."

"Each dragon is chosen by one rider. That rider would be the only one allowed to ride that dragon until the rider died, in which another rider could claim the dragon. The dragon would listen to its rider only; no others would be able to control it."

Sansa's confusion grew. "Are there any records of dragons choosing multiple people to be their riders?"

"None that I know of."

"When does a dragon choose its rider?"

Arya shook her head. "A dragon does not choose its rider, the rider chooses the dragon. As for what age, whatever age they wish. A dragon can be claimed when it is still in the egg if the rider so wishes it."

Huh. So it seemed that neither her or Daenerys had really 'claimed' Drogon since he sort of listened to them both but really didn't. She wondered if Rhaegal and Viserion were any different. "Can a rider have multiple dragons?"

"No." Then how…

"Would you claim a dragon if any still existed?" A layered question. Could she claim a dragon?

"I would if I could. Dragons can only be claimed by Targaryens."

"You mean the house that used to rule over the Crownlands?"

"That one, yes." Nymeria barked, grabbing Arya's pant cuff and tugging. Arya chuckled. "I think it's time for you to go, Sansa."

"Of course. Thank you." And she meant it. This information could be invaluable to her and Daenerys, and the dragons. But what did it all mean? Was Daenerys a Targaryen? Was she somehow a Targaryen? Or was there something else in the equation?

Berries

By the time she returned to her chambers Drogon was already waiting for her on her pillows with Lady giving him the harshest glare she could muster. Sansa patted her on the head and allowed Drogon to hop on to her shoulder. With his increasing size it was getting harder and harder to carry him around. He barely fit on her shoulder anymore, but luckily for him, dragons are more long than they are wide. He could still squeeze himself onto it.

Daenerys was waiting for her below her balcony. Sansa called down to her and Daenerys grinned when she saw her. "Hello, Sansa."

"Daenerys." Sansa frowned. "Have you ever realised just how long your name is?"

"I know it's long."

"Have you ever thought of adopting a nickname?"

"I've thought about it," she said. "Just- my brother had a nickname for me when we were young."

"You have a brother?" Sansa was surprised. Daenerys had never mentioned a brother. She'd said she had no folks.

"Had. He wasn't a good person."

"What happened to him?"

"Got too cocky. Tried to rob one of the lords. He got caught and was killed." Daenerys smiled slightly at that. "All for the better, though. My life's been much better since he left it."

"What was he trying to get? Money?"

"Yes. He could barely feed himself, much less feed me."

Something clicked in her mind. "Can you feed yourself?"

"My dragons will bring me back food from their hunts."

"That's it?"

"That's all I need."

"Wait there." Sansa stepped back from the balcony and removed Drogon from her shoulder, tucking him under her arm. He gripped onto her slip with his claws and Sansa threw on her cloak. She left her room after making sure Drogon was covered. He stuck his head out of the fabric to look at where they were going. Sansa let him, as long as he receded if anyone were to pass them.

She went into the kitchens. The staff greeted her politely. "Princess Sansa. What can we do for you?"

"Would you be able to spare a plate of berries for me?"

"Of course." Sansa stepped back as one of the staff stocked up a plate of all sorts of berries for her. She had to constantly nudge Drogon back into the shadows of her cloak, quietly scolding him after the third time. He whined but moved no more.

Sansa collected her plate and made her way out through the servant's door, not wanting any guards to stop her. She didn't lock it, knowing she wouldn't be long. She fought Daenerys waiting where she'd left her. Drogon squealed as he saw her, crawling out from under Sansa's cloak. Daenerys jumped when she saw Sansa walking toward her. "Seven hells, Sansa! What are you doing?"
"Food for m'lady," Sansa said, curtsying jokingly as she held out the plate. Daenerys took the porcelain dish and practically cradled it she was so afraid of dropping it.

"You didn't need to do this."

"I wanted to. You said you ate meat only? You should try some of this."

Daenerys looked down at the plate. "What are they? I've never seen them."

"That's because they're a luxury in the North. Don't grow well up here." Sansa took one of the blueberries from the plate and popped it into her mouth. "Berries."

Daenerys took one of the blackberries and hesitantly put it in her mouth. She bit down on it and a burst of sweet and sour filled her mouth. She swallowed it. "They're tart."

"Try the others, then. The others aren't so sour." Daenerys took one of the strawberries and took a bite of it. Her face lit up. Sansa laughed. "Like it, then?"

"That's amazing! It's so juicy and- it tastes so good!" She beamed at Sansa and quickly finished off the rest of the berry and bit into another.

Sansa nodded. "Royalty may be painful, but you get good food."

Daenerys swallowed. "I would gladly take your spot if it meant getting to eat this every day!"

"I can bring some out every night if you want."

Daenerys looked hopefully at her. "Can you?"

"Of course. I get more than enough; I'd be happy to spare some for you."

Drogon, who had climbed onto Daenerys's shoulder, reached forward and took a raspberry in his mouth. He made a face and spat it back out onto the ground next to them. Daenerys smacked him. "You just wasted a perfectly good berry!" Drogon made an odd noise that seemed to say that he didn't care.

Sansa let Daenerys finish off the berries, only taking one occasionally for herself. When the plate was clear, Daenerys looked at it with a pained face. Sansa seemed to understand. "Keep the plate. You can sell it to a merchant."

"Won't they question where I got it?"

"If they can make good money off of it, they won't care."

Daenerys shook her head. "I don't want to risk it." Sansa sighed and took the plate, setting it down on the ground next to them. She turned back to Daenerys only to be embraced by the smaller girl. Sansa was frozen for a minute before she overcame her surprise and hugged her back. "Thank you," she mumbled into her shoulder.

Sansa just squeezed her tighter.

Lemons

Sansa kept her word, bringing Daenerys food every night that she either retrieved from the kitchen or smuggled out from dinner. If anyone noticed, they didn't comment. Drogon was still coming to her each night, and at one point even brought his brother Viserion along. Sansa adored the little dragon, looking infinitely less menacing than Drogon with his white-gold scales and smaller frame. Lady didn't like him either. Go figure.

She would occasionally bring some foreign meats that were exported from the South to give to the dragons. Fish was another thing that Sansa would bring, for both Daenerys and her dragons. She enjoyed tossing the meat up for the dragons to catch, watching as Rhaegal wrestled the meat out of Drogon's claws and snapping it up.

One night, Sansa brought Daenerys a favourite of hers. "They're lemon cakes," she told her. "We rarely get them up here, since lemons only grow in the south, but they're the best."

The two sat down against the castle wall, the plate resting on Sansa's lap. Daenerys took one of the cakes and Sansa playfully cheered her. Daenerys smiled and went along, tapping their cakes together before taking a bite. Sansa closed her eyes and relished the taste, both tart and sweet at the same time. She looked over at Daenerys to see her face and saw it bright. "This is amazing!" She said. "How can something taste so good?"

"Lots and lots of sugar," Sansa said, taking another bite of her cake. Viserion reached out to take the last of her cake and she let him, fending him off when he tried to take another. "You don't get them all." Viserion huffed, curling himself up beside Sansa.

Daenerys fed Drogon and Rhaegal pieces of the cake before taking another for herself. "How did you get so many of these? You said they were a rarity."

Sansa shrugged. "They were given to me as a gift from my father. He just came back from a meeting with the Dornish leaders and brought them back for me. I saved them to share with you."

Daenerys beamed at her, finishing off her cake. "Thank you. These are amazing."

"I'll have to remember to bring you more sweet stuff, then. You too," Sansa said, booping Viserion on the nose. He squirmed, purring happily. She scooped him up in her arms and Drogon hopped onto her shoulder. Sansa gave Daenerys a smile. "I hope you don't mind that I'm stealing Viserion too."

"No, no, go ahead. Considering that you've improved my life so much, you have rights to my dragons." Sansa grinned and kissed her on the cheek. Daenerys blushed, scratching Viserion on the head and bidding her goodnight.