Chapter 6
Chapter 6: The Queen’s Bargain
Daenerys
The tension between them was palpable. Daenerys could feel it swirling in the air, a magnetic force she had never quite experienced before, even in the heat of battle. It was not just the fire of her dragons or the steel of her armies that made her powerful—it was this, this undeniable pull between her and Sansa Stark.
She had expected resistance. She had expected defiance.
What she had not expected was this quiet understanding, this almost eerie calm that Sansa exuded.
For a moment, Daenerys wondered what the other woman might have been like, before she was torn from her own world and brought into this one. Had Sansa always been this way? Or had the years of ruling, of fighting to survive, hardened her into something new?
Daenerys’ thoughts were interrupted when Sansa spoke.
“Prove it,” she said, her voice calm but unwavering. “What do you want me to prove, Daenerys?”
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Daenerys knew what she wanted. But the question was—how far was she willing to go?
“I want you to stand with me,” Daenerys replied, her voice steady, though there was an edge to it now. “I want you to swear your loyalty to me, to this land, to the future I am building.”
Sansa’s lips twitched, but she did not respond immediately.
The silence stretched between them, thick and charged. It was as if the entire world was holding its breath, waiting for something—waiting for her.
Daenerys stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Sansa’s. “I will offer you power, a place by my side. You will not have to fight anymore. You will not have to be the prisoner of a world that does not belong to you.”
“And what is it you want in return?” Sansa’s voice was low, measured, but beneath it, Daenerys could sense something sharp—an edge she could not ignore.
“I want your allegiance,” Daenerys said simply. “I want you to fight for my cause, to help me bring the Egyptian lands into my rule. I need someone with your knowledge, your strength. You would be more than just a consort to me, Sansa. You would be my equal. You would stand at my side.”
For a long moment, Sansa did not speak. She simply stood there, the moonlight falling across her face, her eyes calculating, evaluating the weight of Daenerys’ words.
Finally, Sansa’s lips parted. “And what if I say no?”
Daenerys did not flinch. “Then I will have to find another way to secure my power. But you will be my enemy, Sansa Stark. And I will have no mercy.”
The silence was deafening, the weight of their words pressing down on both of them.
Sansa met Daenerys’ gaze, her expression unreadable. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, she spoke.
“Why me?”
Daenerys was taken aback by the question, but she quickly regained her composure. “You have knowledge. You understand this land. But more than that, you are… resilient. You do not bend easily. You are a woman who could rule alongside me, not just as a wife or a subordinate, but as an equal.”
Sansa seemed to consider this. “And why would you want an equal? What is it you are afraid of?”
Daenerys’ heart skipped a beat.
Fear.
She had not expected to be asked that.
But Sansa’s question was not an accusation—it was a challenge. A challenge Daenerys had never truly faced before.
Her breath stilled as she locked eyes with the other woman, trying to find the words.
“Because,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I know what it is to be alone. To rule without someone who truly understands what it costs. I want someone by my side who will not break when the world presses in. Someone who knows what it is to survive, to endure.”
Sansa’s expression softened, just a little. “And you think I can be that person for you?”
Daenerys nodded, her voice unwavering. “I do.”
There was a moment of stillness, then Sansa took a step back, her hand brushing the stone railing of the balcony. “I have lived a life of survival, Daenerys. I have fought to keep my family safe. I have watched the world burn around me.”
Her voice faltered for just an instant. “I cannot afford to be anyone’s pawn, no matter what promises are made.”
Daenerys swallowed, stepping forward. She knew this was not just about power. It was about trust. And if she wanted Sansa to stand with her, she would need to show vulnerability—something she had never been good at.
“I’m not asking you to be a pawn. I’m asking you to be my partner, Sansa. To share this weight with me.”
Sansa remained silent for a long moment. The night air seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her response.
At last, Sansa turned, her blue eyes meeting Daenerys’ once more.
“I do not make deals lightly,” she said, her voice firm. “But if you truly believe that we can stand together… then I will consider your offer. But I will not bend to you, Daenerys. Not now, not ever.”
Daenerys felt a strange thrill surge through her at the words. It was not what she had expected—but then again, she had never wanted someone who would simply submit to her. She had always sought someone who could challenge her, someone who would push her to be better.
“You are not a servant,” Daenerys said, her voice soft but resolute. “You are not a subject. You are a queen in your own right. And I will not try to break you, Sansa.”
For the first time, Daenerys saw something in Sansa’s eyes that wasn’t cold, wasn’t calculating. It was soft—just for a moment.
Then Sansa gave a small, rueful smile. “I never said I was a queen.”
Daenerys did not smile back, but she could feel something new blooming between them. Something fragile, but real.
“I think you are,” Daenerys said, her voice steady. “I think you will be.”
Sansa exhaled slowly, stepping back. “Then I will consider your offer. But understand this, Daenerys—I will not give you my loyalty for free. And I will never, ever be your pawn.”
Daenerys nodded. “I never asked you to be.”
Sansa
The moon was still high above the city as the weight of Daenerys’ words pressed down upon her.
It was an offer Sansa had not expected. She had spent her life in a world that never allowed room for true alliances. Survival had taught her to be cautious, to measure every word, every movement. There was no such thing as an offer without a price, no such thing as a partnership without strings attached. But Daenerys—she was different.
Was she different?
Sansa turned to face the queen who stood in front of her, and for the first time since she had arrived in this strange world, she saw something like sincerity in Daenerys’ eyes. It was fleeting, but it was there. The Targaryen queen was not just a conqueror; she was also a woman fighting to maintain control, just as Sansa had always done.
“Why do you trust me?” Sansa asked softly, breaking the silence.
The question hung in the air, and Daenerys seemed momentarily caught off guard by it. She looked at Sansa as if she had been waiting for this, but didn’t know how to answer.
“I don’t trust easily,” Daenerys admitted after a long pause. “But I have learned that trust is a currency in this world. We must trade it, if we are to survive.”
Sansa studied her. “And you believe that I will trade mine with you?”
Daenerys’ lips quirked in the faintest of smiles. “I believe you are someone who can see the value of an alliance. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. I don’t think you have much faith in anyone, but I also don’t think you are foolish enough to ignore opportunity.”
Sansa could feel the heat of the queen’s gaze, inspecting her, probing for something deeper. It was the same way she had been looked at in every court she had ever been in. The way people measured her usefulness, how she could fit into their schemes, their battles, their plans. But this was different. There was no malice in Daenerys’ look—no hidden agenda beneath it. At least not yet.
“I have lived too long surrounded by people who only sought to use me,” Sansa replied, her voice low, the weight of her past sinking in. “How can I be sure this is not the same?”
Daenerys stepped closer, her presence undeniable in the dim light. “Because, unlike those who would have used you, I do not seek to break you, Sansa. I need you to stand beside me, not beneath me. Not as a pawn, but as a queen.”
Sansa’s heart fluttered at the word—queen. It had a strange sound on Daenerys’ lips, as though she meant it in a way that no one else ever had. Not even those who had seen her as Sansa Stark, Queen in the North.
She looked at Daenerys, and the walls she had spent so many years building began to falter. Could it be possible? Could she trust this woman—this conqueror?
And yet, what choice did she have?
“What do you need from me, Daenerys?”
The question came out quieter than she intended, but the queen heard it. Daenerys stepped closer, close enough that Sansa could feel the heat of her body, could smell the faint scent of fire and something deeper—a promise.
“I need your knowledge of these lands,” Daenerys said, her voice steady, yet carrying an urgency that made Sansa’s heart race. “You know the people here. You know the culture. The hierarchies. You know how to navigate a world I have yet to fully understand. I can’t conquer it all on my own. But with you by my side, I believe I can.”
Sansa swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She had always known the value of knowledge, of information. But this…this was different. This was not about simply surviving—this was about building something new. And with that came a weight she had never expected to bear.
Daenerys was asking her for more than just loyalty. She was asking for something that, to Sansa, felt as heavy as the crown she had worn in the north: a partnership.
“Your dragons,” Sansa said, her voice steady despite the war raging inside her. “They are not just weapons to you, are they?”
Daenerys’ lips pressed together, and for a moment, something akin to sorrow flickered in her eyes. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, but paused.
“They are not just weapons,” Daenerys said softly, her voice carrying a rare tenderness. “They are… everything. My family. My strength. My past.”
Sansa could feel the weight of that confession. Everything Daenerys had built was tied to those dragons, to the fire that had always been part of her.
“Then why did you let me touch them?” Sansa asked, her voice a little quieter now, but her gaze unflinching. “Why did Drogon let me get so close?”
Daenerys smiled, but there was an edge to it. “Because Drogon knows what I know, Sansa. You are not what you seem.”
The words hit Sansa harder than she expected. Was she so easy to read? Or was Daenerys simply more like her than she realized?
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Sansa said, her voice regaining its firmness. “What do you need from me?”
Daenerys’ smile softened into something more genuine now, something that felt like understanding. “I need your loyalty, yes. But more than that, I need your mind. You’ve seen the world in ways I haven’t. You’ve navigated its traps and found a way to survive. That is what I need. A partner who is as strong as I am.”
Sansa stared at her for a long moment, weighing her options.
She could walk away. She could choose a different path, a solitary one. She had been alone before, and it had made her strong. But there was a part of her—a dangerous part—that saw Daenerys’ offer not just as a chance for power, but as an opportunity to truly change the world. To build something beyond what either of them could accomplish alone.
“Alright,” Sansa said, her voice steady, but with a trace of something deeper. “I will stand by your side, Daenerys. But remember—I am not your puppet.”
Daenerys’ lips curved upward, a gleam of something like respect in her eyes. “I would never ask you to be anything less than your own queen, Sansa Stark. You are my equal, or nothing at all.”
There it was again. Equality.
For the first time, Sansa believed her. She had not been asked to serve, to bend. She had been asked to join. And that… that was new.
As Sansa nodded slowly, Daenerys stepped back, the air between them shifting. The deal had been made—fragile, but real.
And the world would never be the same.