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Sansa paces the Dragonstone Great Hall, what once reminded her of Winterfell with it’s warm walls and grey stones now brings her frustration. She hates the grey, she hates the warmth. She just wants to scream because she’s walked the width of the hall at least twenty times back and forth but she isn’t moving.
Missandei has asked if she wanted anything. She wants something, someone, but Missandei can’t provide what she wants, what she needs.
After what feels like hours the Great Hall doors open, Daenerys enters first with her blood riders and Unsullied behind her. She stops merely a few steps into the hall when she sees Sansa while the rest of the men move about the Great Hall like an average day.
When the Dragon Queen clears her throat it’s like a fourth dragon has been alive all this time, resting in the chest of Daenerys Targaryen. Her eyes tell her men to leave and they do, all but Missandei who stops at the door and turns to wait for Daenerys. With a shake of her head she tells Missandei she isn’t leaving yet.
The Great Hall’s doors close with a slam, the noise rings in the air and then settles, bringing the two queens yards away but in utter silence.
Daenerys takes a step forward, her hands going from behind her back to in front of her. “Lady Stark, may I help you?”
Daenerys doesn’t even fully look at the Wolf Queen, she’s actively avoiding eye contact and Sansa wants to yell at her because how bloody stupid could she possibly be.
“I can’t tell if you are a Queen or a fool.” Sansa laces her words with venom as she spits them at Daenerys.
“Pardon?”
“You go, in a fit of anger, to the South. You go with Drogon, your entire Dothraki hoard and Tyrion. You could have died! And then what? We all go kissing Cersei’s boots?” Sansa takes steps closer each and every time.
“What I do with my army is no concern to the North as far as I’m aware. You were the one to bring the news of the North withholding it’s loyalty.” Daenerys stands a bit taller and this time is looking directly at Sansa, her soft tone gone and her vicious dragon voice takes it’s place.
“This has nothing to do with the North!” Sansa shouts, walking away to a corner to put distance between them. Every bone in her body aches to be closer but her mind is yelling to push her away.
Daenerys’ brow furrows in confusion, “Then what is this about? Because I didn’t think Sansa Stark did anything for anyone but herself and her northern nation. Did you just come here and question my actions for the fun of it?”
Sansa’s voice is quiet in her reply, “No.”
“Did you do it to think you could get the upper hand?”
“No.”
“Did you do it to get the blade of my warriors to end you?”
“No.”
“Did you do it to just act mighter than I, to call me stupid?”
“No!”
“Then what Sansa! Why are you here? Why!” Their voices have grown to be even louder than the three beasts above them.
“Because I love you!” Sansa turns from her corner, cloak flying behind her as she finally faces Daenerys. Daenerys, who is significantly closer than she thought.
Daenerys had decreased their distance with each question so now they were an arms with apart. Both of their chests are heaving from the argument. Sansa’s eyes burning with unshed tears.
Daenerys reaches up to cup Sansa’s face, her thumb wiping at the soft cheeks of the Wolf Queen. She takes one final step closer so they’re within each other’s breaths.
“Sans-”
Before the last syllable has left Daenerys’ mouth Sansa connects their lips.
Sansa’s lips press into Daenerys out of desperation, out of a need to make sure she’s real and okay. Daenerys lets her push, simply holding herself there to be taken. When Sansa calms down Daenerys pushes back a bit, licking Sansa’s bottom lip.
Sansa’s hands raise to tangle in Daenerys’ hair while Daenerys lets her hands wrap around Sansa’s neck. Sansa gives a light tug of Daenerys’ hair, creating a soft desperate moan escape the Queen. Her neck is exposed to Sansa and she lets it be, letting Sansa’s lips map and cover her skin.
She feels Sansa’s teeth lightly grazing her skin with some sporadic nips that are soothed by a loving tongue. Daenerys pushes Sansa until she’s leaning against the low platform that leads to the throne. Sansa lets her legs relax, resting on the low platform and letting Daenerys slip between her legs. The two continue in a fit of nips and kisses.
The click of the Great Hall’s doors makes each Queen pull away. Daenerys looking over Sansa’s shoulder with gritted teeth, Sansa looking to the doors to see Missandei walking in with a letter in hand.
“Your Grace.” Missandei waits for Daenerys’ attention.
“Yes?” Daenerys tries not to sound out of breath or too frustrated which makes Sansa lean her head into her neck and smile against her skin.
“Theon Greyjoy has returned with Yara Greyjoy, they have news of a possible fleet.” Missandei lowers her head as if the two queens weren’t decent.
“I’m on my way.” Daenerys nods her head, still not facing Missandei and arms holding Sansa against the platform between them.
They both know Missandei won’t leave until Daenerys is accompanying her, so Daenerys lets out a frustrated sigh before leaning to Sansa’s ear.
“Come to my chambers tonight.” She nips Sansa’s earlobe and places a less than innocent kiss at Sansa’s jaw, “I love you too.”
Daenerys stands up properly, brushing down her coat before turning and heading to Missandei, the young adviser brazenly wearing a smirk directed at both Sansa and Daenerys.
When the door closes Sansa touches where Daenerys left her last kiss and smiles, taking her leave to get ready for the events planned for after dinner.