By the next morning, Daenerys had come to her senses again. She hated how unpredictable her mood had grown as of late… from the time when Jorah first fell defending her against the undead to now, the events blurred and twisted in her mind. It had all been so much and filled with so many losses and unexpected turns. She knew she'd gotten a bit… capricious. Perhaps a bit 'Mad' even, yes, as much as the word pained her. And, perhaps, Brandon Stark was right about her, and his prediction may have come to pass had Dany not been stolen in the night. Anything was possible in these uncertain days and long hours. But a night's rest had done her mind good, and Dany was ready to apologize to her captor and try to mend the damage she'd surely caused.

Of course, that wasn't easy considering she woke still bound and gagged. It must've been early, for Sansa was still in the chamber herself, slipping stockings up her long legs as a servant girl braided and combed her fiery red hair.

Dany looked at her and chewed the gag impatiently.

Sansa's own look found her, but there was little comfort in it. "I'm having you returned to your tower. It's… clearly what you want."

"Mnf," Dany grunted, lips squirming as she shook her head.

"I won't hear any more of your accusations and cruelties on this morning," Sansa retorted. "I have a meeting with all the heads of the northern families, and I can't have my mood spoiled so prematurely."

Daenerys sat up and tugged at her bound hands. "Mnf!"

With a glance to her servant, Sansa ordered the girl to get her sister. That was the last thing Daenerys wanted to hear. She began shaking her head more fervently and kicking her feet about, sending the sheets sailing. Sansa looked upon her with something that must've been pity as the woman turned away with a shake of her head.

Then the servant returned, and Arya Stark stood waiting in the doorway. She wore a satisfied little expression as Dany was untethered from the bed, still bound at her wrists, and ushered forth into the younger Stark's waiting hand. Arya tugged her hard to get her moving and kicked the door shut behind them. Dany looked back and met Sansa's eyes one last fleeting time before they took the corner and the woman vanished.

"I didn't expect you to act so quickly," said Arya as she marched them with haste through the castle grounds. "Maybe you're not a complete fool, after all."

Daenerys glared at her and grunted a reply.

"Either way, it's for the best. Sansa can keep her head where it belongs, on ruling the North, and you… well, you can just be stashed away quietly at the top of your tower. You'll be safe and, more importantly, forgotten."

Forgotten. Dany winced. The ropes on her wrists felt suddenly far too tight. She glanced to Arya and tried to communicate her trepidation with her eyes alone, but the girl didn't seem much interested. Her arm was tugged on, forcing her feet to keep moving, and it was in that manner the trek through Winterfell passed.

At the tower chamber, Daenerys was shoved inside and Arya waited at the door, gesturing to two little crones who'd been waiting. Together, the trio entered the room and Arya directed them to Dany's sides. Dany watched warily as they approached her and unbound her wrists. They carried with them a coat of sorts… a coat with straps upon it.

"Since you tried to escape the last time, I had the maesters design something to contain you more securely. Stay still while you're subdued."

Daenerys eyes widened as she saw now that the coat the crones carried had no holes at the ends of their sleeves. In fact, the sleeves has been sewn up shut. She shook her head and writhed in their grip, but in her weakened state even two little women could restrain her. They slipped her hands in the sleeves and wound each around her body in opposite directions. The results left Daenerys 'hugging' herself, in a sense, and then the coat was fastened and strapped and buckled behind her. Her upper body was rendered immobile completely.

"It's said they use such restraints when a man comes back from battle without a sense left in his broken mind," Arya explained with a surveying look. "I think it… fitting, for you then."

Daenerys jerked her arms from side to side but the coat held her tight within its firm grasp. She glared at Arya, knowing this was some cruel punishment designed to further penalize her for garnering Sansa's affection.

Arya snorted and paced forward to yank the gag from her mouth.

"You can't keep me like this," Daenerys pleaded, thrashing her torso from side to side, the coat holding her captive regardless. "There's nothing wrong with my mind!"

"Not according to my sister."

Dany recoiled as if struck. "S… Sansa ordered this herself?"

"Of course. You think such power lies in my grasp? Sansa's the Queen. I'm just… the shadow."

Daenerys stopped fighting the restraints and sat herself still, staring dejectedly at the wall before her. Had her own volatility finally turned the elder Stark sister against her? She'd said such cruel things the previous night. It wasn't unlikely. She raised her eyes to ask that very question of Arya, but only the closed door greeted them. She was alone. On bare feet she rose and walked to the door to call into the hall, but no voice called back. She kicked at it, hurting her toes, but silence came the reply again. At the window, Dany gazed longingly down upon the castle grounds where just a day or so ago, Sansa had walked alongside her. And now she'd thrown all that away, and her thoughts could only linger once more on some inevitable escape; as improbable as it may seem.

For a long while she fidgeted with her restraining coat. The crones had done too good a job for her to accomplish much, however. It's hold was firm, secure, and Daenerys knew before long there was no escaping the thing without aid. She lay atop the bed and stared at the vaulted ceiling.

"Drogon, come," she whispered. In her mind, the mighty dragon heard those soft words and turned his leathery black wings crisply for the North, and for her rescue. Daenerys doubted, however, the reality of that scenario. Drogon could, apparently, be controlled by Brandon Stark regardless. It rendered her one ally of formidable aid utterly useless.

Restless with vexation, Dany tossed and turned atop the bed, finding comfort impossible to achieve till finally she grew so worn down and tired, sleep found her against her own will. She slept in fits for most of the day and lay anguished for most of the night till she drifted again into a bout of dreams. They were strange and dark and all the familiar faces of the men and women she cared for and who cared for her were lost in all that darkness. She was alone, it seemed, even in her dreams.

She woke alone and broke her fast alone and was released of the restraint coat only long enough to bath alone before being paced back in it. The day moved infuriatingly slow from then on and Daenerys could hardly find the patience to sit or stand still in any one position. She most often went to the window and stared vacantly into the clouds, wishing she were anywhere else.

Then the door opened and Sansa Stark stood in the chamber.

"Sansa…" Daenerys breathed and padded across the room before she knew what she was doing. So grateful a feeling swelled in her bosom, she simply threw herself at the woman. Sansa, startled, caught her in her long arms and embraced her.

"Shhh," Sansa hushed her as Daenerys trembled. "It's alright. What's happened?"

"Your sister… your sister threatened me… that's why I was so terrible to you… please… I can't be kept here alone any longer… I need you…"

"Shh," Sansa continued, now stroking her hair and squeezing her a bit tighter. "Arya threatened you? For what reason?"

Then Dany explained everything in a long and unbroken confessional. She talked till her voice was hoarse. She told of Arya's conversation with her and of her feelings and her dreams, she even dared to speak of her sexual desires towards Sansa, and by the time she'd finished she was both humiliated at speaking so much and greatly relieved for the same reason. Sansa, stoic as usual, simply held her and listened without daring to interrupt. Then the woman brought her at arm's length so they could peer into one another's eyes.

"I will protect you… if you allow me to," Sansa said.

Daenerys' breath trembled in her throat. She nodded.

The coat was removed from her body so that Dany could throw her freed arms around Sansa's torso and squeeze and Sansa could kiss the top of her head and squeeze back. They stood like that a long moment, content in one another's warmth. It wasn't until Dany dared a look over Sansa's shoulder that she saw a third had joined the company. In the hall outside, Arya Stark glared at the scene housed within. Dany blinked and the young woman was gone just as quick.

"You have to keep me with you," Daenerys croaked, clutching to Sansa as if she might float away. "At all times. I'll behave. I'll be… whatever you need me to be."

"Alright. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you… thank you, Sansa."

Then she was kissing the woman. Dany wasn't sure how it happened nor whom had started it, only that one moment their lips were far apart and the next they were pressed together. Sansa's taste was sweet. Lips parted and tongues even briefly met. Hands were moving now, gripping at hips or touching lightly at cheeks. It was as if two bodies had merged into one and only once they parted did either woman seem to come to her senses.

Daenerys flushed and touched her lips.

Sansa swallowed but remained as composed as one could.

Neither spoke for a dreadfully long moment, then Sansa extended her arm and reached out a hand. "Come," she commanded with a wiggle of her fingers, prompting Dany to take hold of her. "You won't spend another night alone while you're in this castle. You have my word."

Daenerys obliged the command wordlessly. She allowed herself to be ushered out of the room and steered back to where she belonged. Her eyes, though, warily kept vigil in every shadowed corner of Winterfell for the other Stark girl… the one who surely hadn't liked what she saw, and who at this very moment was likely plotting some scheme or another to break it apart.

Dany squeezed Sansa's hand tight. Her own will would just have to be stronger.