A pile of books appear on her bed three days later. Ostara flips through them hesitantly, her new wand burning hot against the skin of her calf where her stockings keep it out of sight but on hand. The books aren't really books, more like personal journals written by witches and wizards who've long since died. Ostara recognizes some of the languages.
Latin, Old English, and Old Gaelic make up the majority of the journals left for her. Ostara puts those aside with every intention of reading them in the next few weeks, then she turns her attention to the other three journals.
They're bound in soft leather which had been pressed at some point to resemble scales, there are small jewels peppered across the spine of one and gold threading through the covers of the others. When Ostara opens the journal she finds it full of words and pictures and pressed plants. Each one is aged to varying degrees and Ostara's got the strangest feeling that she's seen these journals before.
The language is Valyrian.
Ostara is still learning the language but she's always been a curious thing and she knows enough to make out some of the words. So Ostara reads what she can and finds herself conflicted. Some of the spells contained within the journal, the ones she can make out anyway, are gruesome and many of them involve some sort of sacrifice or rituals that make Ostara blush when she sees them depicted in colorful inks or paints on the next page.
But the more she reads the more she can make out.
Without much thought Ostara moves to her bed where she drops down to lay across the floor and reach under the bed to pull a small chest from the shadows. Ostara moves to kneel by the chest, the books are placed on the floor, and Ostara reaches for her wand which she waves over the lid of the chest. A series of low, mechanical clicks emit from within the chest before the lid pops open.
Ostara gathers the Valyrian journals up and places them in the chest alongside some of her other more questionable trinkets. She'll take them back out after she's fluent in the language, but until then it's too dangerous to have them on her person. Especially if she's going to King's Landing. Wouldn't want anyone accusing her of stealing now would she?
"Ostara? What are you doing?"
Her father's voice makes her jump and shove the chest back under the bed before she stands up to smile at her father.
"Good morning papa! I've just finished packing!" Ostara exclaims and her father frowns.
"What are you holding Ostara?"
"I'm not hiding anything, papa." Ostara says, but her father's eyes are fixated on the wand still dangling from her fingers.
Oh, bloody hell.
"Ostara..."
"You mustn't tell anyone, papa, it could be very dangerous if anyone were to know."
People do stupid things when they're scared. Really stupid things. Things like dragging innocent women out of their homes and tying them to stakes before setting them on fire. Ostara isn't too keen on the idea on being burned alive. Ostara isn't too keen on anyone finding out about her magic before she's damn well good and ready for them to find out about it.
But her father is staring at her like she's grown a second head so Ostara raises her wand and twirls it between her fingers. It's a beautiful thing, truly, a work of art. Eleven and three quarter inches of perfectly straight weirwood, there are delicate veins of red threading through the white of the bark. The handle is the prettiest bit in Ostara's opinion, thicker then the stem of her wand and carved to resemble a mix of the five pointed leaves that grow on the weirwood from which her wand was carved and flowers that Ostara had to truly research to find the name of.
Apparently, they're a type of flower indigenous to the land Beyond the Wall and are known to the people there as Frostfires.
She wonders, briefly, if they were used to make the core of her wand. There's no way to know really, not unless Ostara were to snap her wand in half and take a look at it herself.
Ostara turns her attention away from the delicate carvings to look at her father, who is staring at her wand as if it were a blade.
"Do you know what this is?" She asks.
"Ostara, whatever game you're playing..."
"I'm not playing any games," Ostara says, then she flicks her wand at the door and it slams shut, the bolt sliding into place. "If anyone were to find out that I can perform magic... What would happen if someone found out that I'm capable of doing things much more, let's say, interest then closing and locking a door? I suspect that it could go one of two ways, either they accept it and they keep quiet about it or they don't and someone tries to kill me, or Stannis, or Robert."
Her father is quiet for a long second, the blue of his eyes stormy as he looks between her and the door.
"It is said that our ancestor won the love of a goddess... That she blessed him and his line," her father allows his eyes to settle on her and something in him soften. "How long have you been able to do these things?"
"I've always been able to do them."
"And Stannis? Can he do what you can do?"
"Difficult to say really..."
Unlikely, it's unlikely Stannis has any magical ability. Even if he did it would be a different sort of magic. Like her father said, the Durrandons were blessed by gods and it is believed that Orys Baratheon was the bastard half-brother of King Aegon Targaryen. Whatever magic Stannis might have will never be the same as Ostara's. But her father doesn't need to know that.
Better safe then sorry.
"We can't tell anyone about this, Ostara, you understand that."
"Yes, papa. I understand."
Steffon stares at her for a long moment before moving to kneel before her, hands rising to take cradle her face.
"I understand that you'll want to tell Stannis but I need you to promise me that you won't tell him, or Robert."
"No."
"Ostara this is not up for negotiation."
"I won't tell anyone about this but I won't lie either. If either of my brothers or my mother as about this. I will tell them the truth."
She didn't lie to her parents in her past life but she didn't do right by them either. She'd hidden things, kept things from them, and when the time came she violate their minds and removed any memories they had of her, she'd done it all without their permission. She won't do that to Cassana, or Robert, or Stannis. Her father must understand that because he nods solemnly and moves to kiss her cheek.
"Very well, but I suggest you try to hide it as best you can when we go to King's Landing, yes?"
"Alright."
Her father nods once, kisses her cheek, and leaves her to her own devices without so much as another word to her.
~X~
Ostara's never ridden in a wheelhouse before, she's never left Storm's End either but riding in the wheelhouse is the more interesting of the two. It's like a carriage but move lavish, and much bigger. Ostara sits between Stannis and the window, which gives her a lovely view of the Stormlands as their party makes their way north to King's Landing.
But sightseeing is only so entertaining and if it weren't for the journals Ostara managed to charm to look like the books her Septa has approved for her... Well, Ostara thinks that she might have gone mad nearly three hours ago. Ostara thinks that most of her boredom comes from the fact she she's stuck in the wheelhouse and she wants to practice some of the spells she's learned.
She'll have to wait until they're back at Storm's End and she can sneak into Cressen's work space to make any of the potions mentioned in her journals but she can still practice spells and oh how she wants to do exactly that. It would certainly beat sitting in the wheelhouse with Robert and listen to him prattle on about the might of the Targaryens.
"Mother, is it true that the iron throne is made of swords?" Robert asks and Stannis tenses beside her.
"Yes, Robert."
"Will we see it? I want to see the Iron Throne!"
"Why would you want to? It's ostentatious." Ostara replies, looking up from the journal to smirk at Robert.
The six year old glares at the younger girl and curls his lip a bit.
Ostara loves Robert, she does, but it's so much fun to rile him. Especially when he taunts her just as often and just as much as she taunts him. Besides, Robert's the easiest to joke with out of her brothers. Stannis tries but Ostara gets the distinct impression that he'd rather be doing anything but taunt his little sister or mock his brother. So it's become a sort of silent pact between them.
Robert and Ostara will go at each other as much as their little hearts desire when neither of them wish or intend to hurt the other but they will never ever taunt or mock or tease Stannis if he does not wish to engage in such activities.
"What would you know? You're a girl," Robert retorts, as if it's actually supposed to upset her. "Girls don't know anything."
"I know what ostentatious means. Do you?" She bites back which causes Stannis to roll his eyes.
"Of course I do! It means that one is pleasant." Robert replies, seeming pleased as punch.
Cassana Baratheon glances up from her embroidery, eyebrow raised, silently telling Ostara to be nice. Ostara smiles sweetly in reply and waits until her mother's attention is back on her project to turn that too sweet grin on Robert.
"I think you're referring to gracious, Robert. Best learn the difference between the two, yes?"
"I've got a word for you." Robert spits.
"Oh? What is it then? I'm certain I'll know it."
Robert's grin is a wicked little thing as he doesn't quite manage to whisper his word of choice, "Bitch."
Their mother's reaction is instant and so is Ostara's. While the older woman berates Robert for his language and demands to know where he heard it (apparently the guards aren't as mindful of their language as they probably should be), Ostara finds herself coughing to cover up her laughter. The only reason it's even remotely funny is because Robert has no idea what the word means and their mother spends a good ten minutes explaining to Robert why he can't call a woman such things.
Eventually Robert promises to never say it again, which is a complete lie and they all know it, and goes back to prattling on about the King much to their mother's relief. While both are distracted Ostara turns to Stannis and smiles impishly. Her twin just stares at her for a long moment before turning his attention back to the puzzle box their father got him for a present.
After a time the wheelhouse settles into comfortable silence and Ostara returns to her reading. She's reading about spells used to bring forth a familiar. It's old magic, no one in her last life had to use the spells seeing as they could go to the Magical Menagerie or any other magical pet shop and purchase their choice of familiar. It's really quite a fascinating spell. Very old.
A foot taps against hers and Ostara looks up to find Robert smiling at her, a bag held aloft between them.
"Stara, would you like a sweet?" Robert asks, and his smile makes her think Slytherin.
But she takes the bag all the same, digging inside util she finds a candied orange peel, which she removes from the bag before passing it to Stannis.
"Thank you, Robert." Ostara says before popping the treat in her mouth.
"Anything for you, sweetest sister."
Ostara wonders, briefly, why Stannis appears so put out by their brother's behavior but he pulls out several dried banana slices before handing the bag back to Robert so she doesn't ask. Put out and grouchy is Stannis' default setting. Especially when it comes to Robert. So the four year old drops back to rest against the cushions and eat her treat while Stannis and Robert argue over whether or not they'll be able to meet Barristan Selmy.
~X~
"Mama... It smells." Robert groans as the wheelhouse slides through the poorer district of King's Landing.
He's not lying. It smells like there isn't a proper sewage system available to the common folk. Ostara doesn't doubt that as a result many of the people living in places like Flea Bottom (and if that doesn't tell you enough about the state of that area Ostara doesn't know what will) probably just dump their waste in the streets.
"Hush Robert, we're almost to the Keep and you mustn't let the King hear you say such things."
Yes, Ostara thinks bitterly, because he couldn't possibly know the state of his subject's living conditions.
Ostara turns her attention to the window and frowns. The path they're taking keeps them away from anything that could be considered unsightly but Ostara can still smell unwashed bodies and waste clogging the streets. It's disgusting and Ostara thinks that at some point she'll just have to take a little tour of King's Landing at some point during this little trip.
~X~
When Ostara steps out of the Wheelhouse she finds a man with golden hair and jade green eyes staring at her family. He's a tall man, broad, and the cut of his doublet does very little to hide that. Ostara almost finds herself afraid of the man, which is absolutely ridiculous seeing as she's more then capable of defending herself verbally and physically.
Not that she has much to worry about? Her father seems fond of him... Fond enough to go up and clap the man on his velvet clad shoulder in any case.
"Tywin, old friend, how are you?" Steffon laughs.
"As well as I was last we met." The man, Tywin, replies.
"Good! Come, you've yet to meet my youngest."
Then she and Stannis are being guided by their mother to stand before the man and Ostara has to crane her head back in order to meet his eye. She curtsies prettily when Stannis offers the bow he and Ostara had practiced in her room over the past week. It's the same bow he'll give to the King and his family but there's no problem with using it now.
"My son, Stannis," their father ruffles the boy's hair and causes him to frown, "and my daughter, Ostara."
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Tywin." She greets, smiling prettily at the tall man.
"Hm, yes," his attention drifts from Ostara and Stannis to linger on their mother, "Lady Baratheon."
"Lord Lannister how is your wife? I heard your children celebrated their name's day recently." Their mother says, sweet and kindly like a perfect lady.
"Joanna is well, thank you."
There is so much joy in the man's voice when he says it, completely ignoring the fact that Cassana had mentioned his children. Twins, if Ostara remembers correctly, and only two years younger then Ostara and Stannis. Cassana had laughed about that when she'd heard that such a dear friend had given birth to twins as well. Frankly, Ostara doesn't understand her mother's relationship with Joanna Lannister.
In all of her years Ostara has never once heard mention of Joanna Lannister unless someone else either brings her up or mentions someone associated with her. And yet her mother considers her a dear friend? When Ostara thinks of dear friends she thinks of Harry and Ron and running off to participate in battles they're wholly unprepared for because Harry needed them.
Maybe it's different here?
Ostara purses her lips and watches as Tywin Lannister motions for them to follow him into the keep.
"Come, the King is expecting you." He says before turning on his heel and making his way out of the courtyard, the golden thread in his doublet glinting dully in the mid-morning light.
~X~
When they enter the throne room a man in a black doublet smiles at them from his place on the throne. No, not them, he is smiling at Steffon Baratheon who continues to make his way toward the throne, which is just as ostentatious as Ostara had assumed. There's no reason to have a throne made of over two thousand enemy swords but there it is, menacing and strangely elegant in its macabre fashion.
"Steffon, old friend, your journey was unhindered I take it?" The King asks, already having descended from his throne to embrace Ostara's father.
No one in the room seems surprised, Ostara's not all that surprised either. They are cousins after all, and boyhood friends to boot. Why wouldn't they be fond enough of one another to show at least some affection?
"My journey was short and swift, I assure you." Steffon laughs, the harsh furrow commonly found between his brow easing a bit.
"Good, good. Now, introduce me to your children." King Aerys demands.
Ostara reaches out to take Stennis' hand in her own, fingers curling tight, and her brother says nothing about the sudden clamminess of her palms as the silver haired man approaches them.
He's not what Ostara had expected.
As a product of generations worth of incest Ostara had expected fluctuating facial asymmetry or a misshapen skull or even clubbed feet, she'd expected him to exhibit any of the numerous genetic mutations produced by interbreeding. He shows none of them physically, instead he's all sharp cheekbones and full lips and pretty, pretty lilac eyes.
Whatever genetic mutations he's got, and he's got them Ostara's sure, none of them are physical.
Her father's voice disrupts her thoughts and makes her look over to where he's standing. "My heir, Robert," the boy in question bows stiffly but he can't seem to still his hands which shake with his excitement, "my son, Stannis," another bow but Stannis has always been a stoic boy and so he does not shake, "and finally my daughter, Ostara."
Ostara curtsies as she'd been taught before shifting to press closer to her mother who runs a gentle hand over her curls.
Aerys smiles charmingly at her, "My, you're a pretty one."
"Thank you, Your Grace." She replies, careful to keep her eyes soft.
"And so well spoken," Aerys laughs and turns to smirk at her father. "Best watch this one Steffon."
Her father's response is a soft chuckle which fades into a soft smile as a beautiful woman with silver hair moves to stand beside the King, whose sudden tension does not go unnoticed to Ostara.
"My Queen, a pleasure to see you." Steffon greets and the woman smiles.
"I am so glad you could attend the celebration, cousin, it's been so long since last we've seen one another."
Nearly three years. Ostara remembers the last time her father had gone to King's Landing. He hadn't taken any of his family with him but he'd returned with little gifts from the royal family. Robert had gotten a practice sword, Stannis had gotten finely carved marble figures that he still plays with, and for Ostara there had been a pretty little red haired porcelain doll with big eyes and a gown covered in fine embroidery.
She doesn't play with the doll but even she can see that it's incredibly well made.
They'd all been gifts from this woman, Ostara suspects, for she has a young son and it's unlikely that she wouldn't know what little boys and girls enjoy playing with. So even if Steffon had said that they were gifts from the royal family as a whole Ostara knows that it was Rhaella who chose them.
"And every time I return you are still the most beautiful woman in the realm." Steffon says before moving to press a chaste kiss to the woman's slender fingers.
"Come," the King interrupts, eyes narrowing just so slightly as he move to pull the Lord of Storm's End away. "There's so much to do and so little time to do it. So much has been planned for Rhaegar's name day and I..." His voice trails away as he and Steffon make their way toward the door. Ostara watches them for a moment before allowing her own mother and the Queen to usher her and the other children from the room.