Author note: This story is inspired by another story of mine, Divided Loyalties, right now a two chapter fic about Sansa and Tyrion and a night they share. In it, Sansa's thoughts allude to a supposed plan to win the North's independence from Daenerys and I started to wonder what would happen if Sansa's efforts to have more influence over Daenerys led to more complicated feelings between them. Since I didn't want to interfere with the Sanrion focus of that other story, I decided to make a separate fic and here we are – a kind of hypothetical continuation to the other story's events beginning with the morning after.

Season 8 AU, some elements of the season kept but mostly a self-contained what-if. Not a fix-it, not necessarily true to character, world of the television show not books (though I'll use book details here and there). Angsty Sansa/Daenerys.

Chapter 1

Dawn had broken over Winterfell and among the eyes that watched the night's goings-on of the leaders of the castle was Missandei, who made note of a disheveled Tyrion Lannister leaving the area of Sansa Stark's private rooms. Unseen, she headed back to her queen's rooms.

"He was where?" asked Daenerys, having just finished getting dressed in her bedchamber.

"Her rooms. Her bedchamber, I'm sure."

"Has this been going on for a while?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. You recall what I told you of their conversation in the crypts?"

"Mmm, yes," she answered.

"It didn't seem like anything was happening then. In fact, it seemed as if Lady Stark was gently letting him down. But I did notice certain looks they had given each other these last several days. Perhaps love has bloomed between them after all."

"Give Lord Tyrion time to freshen up and then tell him I require his presence."

"Yes, your Grace," Missandei bowed slightly and left Daenerys alone in her room.

Daenerys stared at the fireplace and thought on Missandei's words. A marriage between her Hand and the Lady of Winterfell may prove useful. This wasn't the first time she'd toyed with the idea ever since she'd been made aware of their prior marriage. But then again, it would also mean Tyrion's loyalty to her, his Queen, would not be total. Perhaps Sansa Stark was using her Hand to gain advantage over her. And Tyrion, the fool, was too blinded by empathy and love to see it coming. She took a deep breath to calm her growing anger. It probably didn't help that she and Jon Stark were still nowhere closer to an accord between them. His damn Stark pride.

*::::*

Sansa Stark washed and dressed carefully for the day. There were many tasks ahead but the first was to get the Dragon Queen to agree to stay at Winterfell a little while longer. Not just for the northern armies to rest and gather their strength but to give Sansa more time to gain her trust. The North was at stake and some difficult choices lay ahead. In the midst of her turmoil over how to deal with her feelings for Tyrion, she had noticed that all was not right between her brother and Daenerys. Could she use that somehow to persuade Daenerys to put off the attack on King's Landing?

She looked away as her handmaiden rearranged her bed coverings, having replaced the sheets. Last night with Tyrion had been both wonderful and eye-opening. She'd never dreamed sleeping with another person could be so pleasurable and this newfound knowledge gave her a sense of power she'd never felt before. And more than that, she toyed with the possibilities of letting a love grow with Tyrion. A loveless political marriage with a strange northern lord had seemed a certainty, if for no other reason than to secure heirs for Winterfell, but with Tyrion she didn't have to settle for a loveless marriage and the thought was both terrifying and alluring. But Sansa pushed the thought away. That was not the future to focus on. She stood cold, still, and ready.

*::::*

Sansa calmly waited in the hallway outside of the Dragon Queen's rooms. Without a doubt, the Targaryen's spies would know what had transpired with Tyrion and she wanted to confront that head on. It would also give her a chance to place more doubt into the queen's mind about her Hand and his loyalty, not because she wanted to cause Tyrion harm but because she needed Daenerys to not listen to him when it came to him warning her away from Sansa.

"Her Grace will see you now."

Missandei's words broke her reverie and Sansa walked slowly but confidently into the solar that was adjacent to Daenerys's bedchamber.

Daenerys was sitting quietly, regally, in a chair in front of the hearth. An empty chair was across from her. They both regarded each other with practiced appraisal before Daenerys raised her arm to the chair, indicating that Sansa should sit. She wordlessly walked over and sat across from Daenerys.

In spite of her confidence, Sansa still did not speak. She had prepared an opening but the calmness of the Dragon Queen unnerved her. There was a hint of a smile. Sansa could tell she knew of her night with Tyrion and it seemed she was going to try to make her squirm over it. She felt the hairs rise on the nape of her neck, excited at the battle about to begin; a battle that only women in power understood.

"I trust you slept well?"

Sansa resisted the sharp intake of breath. How predictable. The Dragon Queen's opening volley was innocent on the surface but her knowing gaze spoke otherwise. Sansa looked at Missandei standing near the door but her face betrayed nothing. She turned back to Daenerys and decided not to play coy. She would decide the rules of engagement.

"Have you spoken with Lord Tyrion this morning?" Sansa asked openly.

She could see the approval in Daenerys's eyes. She'd made the right choice. Daenerys glanced at Missandei, to which Missandei opened the door and left, shutting the door tightly behind her. They were now alone.

"I have but not of these matters," Daenerys answered, turning towards the fire. "I wanted to see if he would broach the subject on his own. He didn't."

Sansa was unable to determine whether Daenerys was angry or disappointed with Tyrion. The coil of something was there, ready to lash out. Regardless, she had to proceed as if she didn't care.

Daenerys turned her gaze back to Sansa with a smile. There was curiosity in her countenance. Sansa looked down, contemplating her next move. Her face heated slightly but she knew she hadn't blushed yet. A conversation of this type would help to foster Daenerys's trust. And trust was what she needed. She looked up again, allowing a small smile of encouragement.

"So, as to my first question…" Daenerys quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes, I slept very well," Sansa replied with a small chuckle. Daenerys's smile widened.

"Pardon my curiosity. Tyrion Lannister is my Hand and I have to be aware of his activities but it's more than that. You see, you are the first woman I've known who has partaken of… his particular skills. He has been celibate for as long as I've known him. And from what I know of you, I know that taking a lover isn't something you normally do so..."

"He is not my lover…" Sansa interrupted then paused, trying to think of the right words that would satisfy Daenerys's curiosity without giving away too much of her true self. She looked toward the fire and spoke. "I am not prone to discuss details, if details are what you want to hear, but as for why it happened I will say that Lord Tyrion and I experienced something in the crypts during the Battle of Winterfell. I'm sure your advisor Missandei relayed some of what was said. And I realized that I nearly died never knowing what it was like. I wanted to know what it would feel like to have a tender night of my choosing."

Images of her second marriage flashed to her mind unbidden, along with the itch of long-healed scars. She glanced at Daenerys who sat patiently, eyes twinkling but nothing else to let Sansa know what she was thinking. Sansa didn't want to turn this conversation to her nightmares.

"Lord Tyrion is the only man I trusted to approach with this… feeling," she added in a feigned shyness.

She turned to Daenerys with a face that dared her to laugh or question her choice. Daenerys nodded without judgement and Sansa felt a sudden kinship with the Dragon Queen. After all, Tyrion had shared what he knew of Daenerys's story. They had a lot more in common than not.

"And I trust he satisfied those expectations?"

Daenerys's question seemed to set fire to the room as Sansa suddenly felt very warm. It was more than just asking if she'd had a good night. It was a question related to the very heart of her main purpose with Tyrion – to see if she could be present enough in the act to derive pleasure from another person. The question also directed her thoughts to Tyrion and what he'd done with his mouth, the memory of it making it difficult to look Daenerys in the eyes. Sansa could only nod in response and hope Daenerys would not press further.

"I'm glad you found pleasure with my Hand," Daenerys said softly.

Sansa's eyes widened and glanced at Daenerys's hands and then back to the fire, her blush now certainly visible. If Daenerys had intended to throw her off balance then she succeeded because Sansa couldn't help imagining pale slender hands on her bare shoulders, moving down her back. And instead of feeling revulsion, her body responded with a quickening heartbeat and shallow breathing. Surely I am just embarrassed, she told herself. When she dared look back at her, she saw Daenerys's reddened cheeks and the realization of how her words had been interpreted. Daenerys hadn't meant it that way at all and Sansa was mortified at her own imagination.

"I meant…" Daenerys helplessly looked for words to ease the tension. It pleased Sansa to see her discomfort. The absurdity of their misunderstanding was comical and Sansa couldn't help the laugh that burst from her. It was a hearty laugh, something she hadn't allowed herself to do since before her father's death, and when Daenerys joined in with her own unguarded laughter, she was reminded of conversations with Margaery Tyrell. Not because she had laughed just as freely back then but because of the subject matter of the conversation. Margaery would be asking for so many more details right now, she thought with mirth. It was nice to think of Margaery and not be sad. She looked over at a smiling Daenerys and for one brief surprising moment, she wished for a real friendship with this Targaryen woman.