Little Wolf (Sansa/Petyr)

The Feast

Daenerys sat, with her new crown placed upon her head at her feast. She was satisfied, for the first time in her life, she did not want for anything. She had her throne, her crown and people around her that she believed would serve her well. With Tyrion as her hand, Varys as Master of Whisperers and the Greyjoys acting as Master of Ships from the Iron Islands. Lord Baelish grew stranger the more she watched him. He watched everyone, observing everybody's business. Perhaps this was the trait of a clever man, or perhaps that of a very invasive one, upon this she could not decide. She was adequately astonished by Lady Stark's knight, Lady Brienne. Tyrion had spoken of her talents and Daenerys needed a Lord Commander, or perhaps a Lady Commander. She would ensure that Brienne would be offered the position, feeling that she could not find a better candidate. Where Lady stark was concerned, Daenerys did not know where she fit into her Capital, only that she should be there. She watched her as she ate, nibbling on lemon cakes. She looked completely foreign, surrounded by the glutinous Lords and Ladies, who could not get their fill of the meat and wine, as if she was of another world. She seemed almost completely preoccupied in thought and a woman in thought was a woman that Daenerys could respect.

Sansa thought back to the many feasts that she had attended in the Red Keep. Those where she sat beside Joffrey, and then those where she sat beside Tyrion as his wife. She thought back to the moment that Joffrey died and then her mind naturally diverted to the death of her father and then her friends: Margaery, Loras and so many others, all taken due to the greed of a single family. She nibbled on her lemon cake and attempted to not find herself in a slump from such thinking. Rather, she watched Tormund destroy a leg of lamb in a way that made the ladies of court blush.

Tyrion watched the crowd. Nobody whispered as they had, no one humiliated him or ordered him around and with this came a great sense of relief. His family, that had caused him so much pain and anguish over the years were finally gone and he felt free. Perhaps it was a crude and perverse way to view the deaths of your entire immediate family, but Tyrion was not a stranger to the perverse ways of life. He looked to Sansa and sighed happily, glad that they could still remain friendly after their brief marriage. He wondered if he would marry again. He knew that this would be his choice and that marriage would not be thrust upon him by Daenerys. But he was a man who was fond of companionship and there was the Lannister name to think of after everything. He thought back to Shae and shuddered at the thought. She was the closest he had ever felt to love, and she was just a cheap whore looking for her next job. Perhaps he would never love, maybe he was just not the sort.

The feast ended and people took to walking about the gardens and enjoying the Red Keep. This was the time that Daenerys received her plethora of gifts. From rare jewels to ancient books, each house had given a gift. Sansa stood before Daenerys empty handed and curtsied.
"I am a maker of dresses. The gown that I wear, along with many others are of my own creation. My gift to you, your Majesty, is to fashion you a fine gown, if this would please you." Sansa bestowed her gift upon the new queen.
"This would please me very much." Daenerys replied, liking this gift above all of the others.

Petyr watched as Sansa walked through the gardens, before perching on one of the elegant chairs. He took this opportunity to sit with her.
"Lord Baelish. What a pleasure it is to see you." She beamed at him, before offering him to sit.
"The pleasure is all mine, my Lady. How are you enjoying King's Landing?" He asked, wondering how the change of climate was affecting her.
"I am enjoying it very much, my Lord. The warm air has always been so fine and I have missed the gardens so. It is one thing that Winterfell lacks." She pondered, thinking back to Winterfell, finding the image rather grey.
"You must be enjoying yourself, Lord Baelish, as the Master of Coin. You were always very skilled with managing your finances." She complimented him.
"I am in close proximity to my establishments and I am able to enjoy the benefits of the summer-like weather." He replied and Sansa found herself running out of things to say. That was one downfall to the Capital, it was always rather boring.
"That gown is astonishing. If every man in the Red Keep does not desire you, then I am a terrible judge of character." He jested, lightening the mood. Sansa blushed and covered her mouth with her delicate hand.
"Lord Baelish, you could never be described as a terrible judge of character. And I do believe that you are a man yourself!" She pointed out, wanting to invalidate his comment.
"I most certainly am." Was his only reply and Sansa felt her cheeks burn a deep shade of scarlet.
"Desire was not my objection, my Lord." She looked down to her hands, embarrassed at the situation.
"Of course, a delicate flower like yourself would never have such thoughts. However, I fear we are not all as saintly as you, my love." He winked at her before leaving her to ponder upon his comments.

Brienne stood before the new Queen after the feast, in the Throne Room and waited to be spoken to.
"Lady Brienne. I have been told of your strength and skill, and I am not disappointed." Daenerys spoke clearly.
"I thank you, your Majesty. Your praise is the highest I may receive." Lady Brienne replied, bowing her head.
"I am in need for a Lord Commander. However, I do not see why I can not have a Lady Commander sit at my small council. Do you understand what I am asking, Lady Brienne?" Daenerys asked cryptically. Brienne unsheathed her sword and knelt before the Queen.
"I do, your Majesty and I accept the position if you deem me fit. To serve you and protect you, for as long as I shall have breath in my body." Daenerys smiled, impressed by Brienne's dedication.
"Very well. I am glad. Come to the small council meeting tomorrow morning." She announced, before leaving Brienne alone in the Throne Room.

Sansa walked with a young Florent boy, only three years her senior. His kind green eyes and blonde curls reminded Sansa of Loras and she found his company rather comforting.
"I daresay, my Lady, that you are very brave for returning to King's Landing after all of the horrendous things that happened to you, or so I have heard, tucked away in Brightwater Keep." He spoke to her in soft dulcet tones.
"I suppose. However, I believe that it is the people that make a city cruel, rather than the city itself." Sansa thought aloud.
"I suppose you are right. I would not suspect such developed thoughts to come from the mind of a woman, especially one so young." Sansa rolled her eyes.
"Well, we surprise such men as yourself sometimes, Lord Florent." Sansa jested. He chuckled and his smile was sweet and youthful, but empty.
"Perhaps you should visit Highgarden sometime. Our family has been bestowed inheritance through marriage, ever since, well you know. Godd day, my Lady." He bowed, before leaving her stranded, unsure how to think.

Daenerys did not hold an evening feast. Rather, most left in the late afternoon, leaving only a few guests. Lord Florent had asked Sansa to write to him, but she had decided that that was not the best of ideas. She watched as the people left in their fine carriages and wondered what lives they would be going back to, where they all lived, what their homes looked like. Sansa had not travelled often as a child and there was so much of Westeros that she had not seen. She sighed, pondering on the change that had occurred that day and how her life would be affected. She decided that the changes would be considerable. However, in what form they would take, she did not know.