Evenings later Ostara slips back through the wardrobe and into the Vaelmaereon keep, hands trembling as she readjusts the strap on the leather satchel she'd brought with her, the books inside seemingly more heavy now then when she'd first gathered them that morning. The books are of mysterious origin and had appeared on her writing desk at some point in the night.

Another lovely gift from Phil it would seem.

Sighing, Ostara adjusts the silken tie she'd used to create a make-shift hair band to keep her hair out of her face. The last thing she needs right now is the damn thing falling off or coming loose. So just to be sure it won't come off Ostara secures it in place with a bit of magic before slipping out of Renaehra's room and into the corridor. She takes her time getting to the treasury, not in any true hurry to get back to Storm's End. It's nearly midnight, no one will be coming to check on her any time soon which means Ostara's got until around three to finish up her current project and make it back to catch a bit of shut eye.

When the familiar, unassuming wooden door comes into view Ostara pulls her wand from her pocket and casts a lumos before stepping into the darkness. She takes the steps carefully as she's still so unsure about which steps are loose and which are missing. But eventually she makes it to the vault door, open, just as she'd left it. Sucking in a steady breath Ostara steps into the treasury.

This time she doesn't tense when the torches burst to life, doesn't squint against the onslaught of shimmering gold and jewels, instead she squares her shoulders and marches to the back of the treasury where the little chest of dragon eggs is waiting for her. Slowly, Ostara grabs her wand and levitates the chest up into the air where she pauses for a moment to make sure nothing adverse happens with the chest before deciding it's safe enough to begin proper transport.

And this time the trip back up the stairs and to the main level of the keep is far more intimidating then the trip down.

Thankfully, she doesn't trip on any loose stones or fall through a missing stair. Aside from a questionable moment when she thought something ran over her foot Ostara hasn't had any trouble navigating the stairs in the dark. Once she's made it to the main level of the house Ostara shuts the door leading to the treasury and begins making her way down the corridor toward the work room where most of her potions ingredients have been stored and sorted.

There's a fire pit in the work room that Ostara can charm and ward, it's the safest place to keep the dragon eggs until it's time for them to hatch too seeing as the room's made of mostly stone.

When she does eventually reach the work room Ostara places the chest full of eggs on the floor beside the fire pit before moving to move the plants and herbs handing from the ceiling to a different part of the room where they won't be affected by the heat. Once that's done Ostara moves back to the chest and kneels on the floor between the fire pit and the chest.

Brilliant red flames erupt in the fire pit at Ostara's prompting, casting an eerie light around the room. The heat that radiates up from the flame is intense and Ostara can feel the heat of it almost to her bones.

With a shake of the head Ostara turns her attention away from the fire pit.

Something shifts inside her, tensing and easing in anticipation as Ostara flips the lid of the chest up.

The eggs lying in the chest are lovely. A mix of colors and shapes and textures against the polished wood grain. Ostara reaches for the first egg and carefully drags her thumb over the rough scales. One of the books in her satchel suggests that the egg in her hand will hatch a Ukranian Ironbelly, that it'll be the biggest of the dragons. All Ostara can think about is the great beast guarding the Lestrange Vault that she and her boys had escaped with all those years ago.

Carefully, Ostara places the egg in the fire pit and turns her attention back to the others.

It's a carefully process, Ostara doesn't want to accidentally burn herself in the flames but she needs to make sure the eggs have the best heat source available. Thankfully none of the eggs slip out of her fingers... Actually... Ostara doesn't have any problems transferring the eggs from the chest to the fire pit. It's only when she's moving to shift away from the flames that anything truly remarkable happens.

One second Ostara's moving to make sure she grabbed all of the eggs and the next a stone beneath her hand is slipping out from it's place, pitching Ostara forward toward the pit.

Reacting on reflex alone Ostara twists to avoid her eggs, hissing when her palm drags across a partially broken stone that causes blood to well up and drip, drip, drip into the fire pit. But that isn't the worst of it. The worst of it comes with the fact that Ostara's shirt has caught fire and is slowly turning to nothing but ash on her body, only, it doesn't burn her.

Shoving herself out of the pit Ostara puts out the flame and checks her arm, finding the skin smooth and unharmed.

"What the hell?" Ostara mutters to herself as she drags a bloody finger up and down her forearm.

Sighing, Ostara rises and makes her way over to the granite counter where she can heal her hand and deal with her shirt. There's not a whole lot she can do to repair the shirt itself but she can go looking for a replacement in Jacaegon's chambers as soon as she cleans herself up.

Ostara never even notices the thick splatter of blood covering the eggs in the fire pit, she never even sees how it begins to smoke and sizzle and slowly seep into the amniotic fluid beneath the eggs' outer protective layer.

~X~

"There," Ostara says as she rocks back to rest on her heels, "that should just about do it."

In the few months since finding the little dragon eggs and ultimately deciding to hatch them Ostara has managed to repair a good portion of the Vaelmaereon keep. She'd started with Renaehra's room as it needed the least amount of work and magical skill to repair, after that she'd slowly worked up to more complex tasks. She's already gotten the great hall fixed and a few other rooms as well, next she'll move on to the training yard.

And once everything's done here Ostara can move on to the other keeps left to weather the centuries after the Doom.

With a groan the young witch rises and brushes sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.

She should probably return to Storm's End before anyone notices she's gone, or before the sun rises and she's forced to go through the day without proper sleep. Which, unfortunately, she'll need as much of as possible seeing as Robert is to arrive at Storm's End in a fortnight to celebrate him tenth name's day with his family and the entire keep is in uproar over it.

Ostara is not looking forward to the tourney her mother and father have planned.

Lords and Ladies from many of the houses in the Stormlands under her father's rule has received an invitation and a great many of them have written back saying that they would be in attendance. Which means Storm's End will be close to bursting with men and women by the time Robert's arrived back from the Eyrie. Even the Lord of Tarth will be coming to celebrate alongside his wife and daughter Brienne.

It will be good for them, Ostara thinks, especially after Alysanne's death.

The girl had died of a fever, already frail Alysanne hadn't had much chance with common treatment and Ostara hadn't heard of her illness until they were burying her body.

Ostara had sent Lord Tarth her condolences for Alysanne's death personally and had told the man that should he require anything to simply ask for it and Ostara would see it done. He'd thaked her for her kind words but had never asked her for anything.

Sighing, Ostara gathers up her things and begins making for her potions room. She needs to check on the eggs before she leaves as well as grab a couple of potions she'd brewed the week before. It had been a tedious task to brew the bruise healing paste and to put together a decent pepperup, but she'd done it despite the crowded space and her anxiety that something would go wrong.

Stepping into the work room Ostara moves over to the large cabinet and pulls a jar of thick yellow paste and several vials out before slipping them into her satchel for safe keeping and making her way over to the fire pit.

"And how are you today?" Ostara asks, reaching into the flame to adjust the red and gold egg that had managed to roll away from its clutch mates.

It's something she's been doing more and more of lately, playing with fire.

Ostara smiles at the eggs and brushes off her hands, something stirring in her gut as she stares at the eggs incubating in the pit. The wards she'd set up around the pit hum but Ostara swears she can hear something else too. It's a fleeting thought, however, and the moment Ostara's ensured that her eggs will be fine for the rest of the night she rises, turns on her heel, and exits the room.

Mother, she thinks she hears and pauses just outside the door, but nothing more is said and so she continues on her way with a shake of the head and a slight frown.

Mother, do not leave us.

Mother, do not go.

~X~

Sucking in a sharp breath Ostara waits as Cerys rubs bruise healing paste into the battered skin covering her shoulders and back. Training today had been especially brutal as Daevyn had decided to teach her to ride. He'd thrown her up on one of the younger horses, newly broken, and told her she needed to learn how to feel her horse.

It had taken being thrown into the dirt three times before Ostara understood what he meant.

Fortunately by the end of it Ostara could pretty much tell when the horse was going to try and buck her off or crow-hop around like a moron. Unfortunately Ostara's body had turned black and blue in several places, forcing Ostara to seek out Cerys so that the pretty blonde could help her apply the bruise healing paste.

"And what will this do?" Cerys asks, moving the jar beneath her nose to take a whiff of the paste.

"It'll reduce swelling and heal the bruises." Ostara says as she rubs some of the paste over her thigh.

"Oh... Does it work?"

"Better then Maester Cressen's ointments, I'll get you a jar next time I make some... For now if you ever need it I keep it at the bottom of the trunk at the foot of the bed."

Cerys blushes prettily before returning to her task.

Since the incident with the man that attacked her Cerys has become an even closer friend then Ostara had ever suspected. They'd spoken about what Ostara had done some time after the incident and Cerys had taken it in stride, looking at Ostara with wide eyes and asking for proof. Because anyone can loose their voice to fear. Ostara had taken a sewing needle from the little basket of sewing equipment on her table and had transformed it into a glass bead.

Ever since Cerys and Steffon had become something like accomplices, helping her when she needed it and assisting her with different tasks.

She's never told them about Valyria, probably will never tell them about Valyria until it's absolutely necessary, but it's alright. What they don't know won't kill them after all.

"How long will it take?" Cerys ask as she wipes her hands with a cloth, "For your bruises to fade?"

"A couple of hours I should think seeing as they were quite dark."

"Oh... Do you mind if I try it?"

"Of course not, where is your bruise?"

Without too much hesitation Cerys lifts her skirt and her shift, rolls down her stocking, and reveals the line of purple flesh bisecting her shin. It looks like she might have run into something, a stool maybe? A stair? Ostara pulls the lid off of the jar and carefully scoops out a small amount of paste which she promptly smears across Cerys' leg.

The fine, golden hairs on her leg appear silver when compared to the paste itself.

Ostara wipes her fingers on the same cloth Cerys had used earlier and puts the paste away.

"Ostara?"

"Hm?"

"Is it true that Robert will marry Cersei Lannister?"

"That would appear to be the plan... Our father and Lord Lannister make the arrangement."

A moment of silence. Then, "Will Lord Lannister and his family be coming to Storm's End?"

"Perhaps not, Lord Lannister rarely leaves King's Landing for something like a name's day celebration... Perhaps when Cersei is older he will bring her to be introduced to Robert but I doubt he will come anytime soon."

Which is a damn sham because if Tywin Lannister comes to Storm's End with his family then Ostara can finally meet little Tyrion and introduce herself to Lady Lannister. But perhaps it would be best to wait a while. She's already sent a letter to Joanna Lannister with her best wishes for the mother and her newest child. For the most part it had been well received. No one tried yelling at her when Joanna Lannister's answering missive arrived.

That had surprised Ostara a bit to be honest.

"That's disappointing, isn't it? I had hoped to meet Cersei... Rumor has it that she is going to be a very beautiful woman one day."

"And where did you hear something like that?"

"Ayanna, the new scullery maid, she has a sister that works in Casterly Rock as a laundress and her sister said that Cersei Lannister is a very pretty little girl."

"At least any future nieces and nephews will be adorable then... If Cersei Lannister's attitude is complete shit." Ostara mutters, still more then a little bitter over the entire concept of arrange marriages.

A horrified gasp tells her that she hadn't been quite enough.

"Ostara," Cerys gasps though the queer tilting of her mouth suggests she's trying not to laugh, "you can't say that."

The young witch merely raises an eyebrow and shakes her head.

"If you think that's bad you should hear Robert's language. He's got a mouth on him filthier then an Iron Islander."

Laughter spills from Cerys, sweet and altogether too charming for any little girl to have a right to have. Ostara would be jealous of Cerys' chirp if she weren't so thoroughly amused by her own booming laughter, so similar to her father's and to Stannis' (when he actually laughs, which is rarely ever) that she can't hate it for a moment.

When Cerys finally calms there are tears beading on her eyelashes and her shoulder quake as she sucks in breath after breath to replace the air she'd used laughing at Ostara's rather terrible joke.

"He can't be any worse then Coltyn, he swears all the time." Cerys giggles.

Ostara glances down at the paste covering her shin and decides its been on their long enough to have healed Cerys' bruise. Without much thought she grabs the cloth and rubs the rest of the paste into the skin or off completely before answering Cerys.

"He's the cook isn't he?"

"Yes, and he finds it very amusing to yell profanities as the others."

"Well... Do they tend to slack off?"

"Sometimes."

"Then I can't feel very bad for them can I?" She wonders.

Cerys merely shakes her head before pulling up her stocking and rolling off of the bed to fetch herself a glass of water from the pitcher Ostara keeps on her bedside table. The glint in her eyes tells Ostara that the other girl is more then slightly amused. Ostara counts it as a win.

~X~

"Robert!" Ostara yells at the top of her lungs as her older brother swings out of his saddle and drops onto the group.

He looks different but that's to be expected after so many years. His hair is longer and a bit less wild then Ostara expected, he's got a couple of pimples but all-in-all he looks healthy, and he's grown a few inches too. But so has Ostara so it's not like he can lord his superior height over her, not when all three of the Baratheon children are practically giants in their own right.

"Ostara!"

There's no hesitation in him when Ostara flings her arms around his neck, Robert merely laughs and spins her around until she's dizzy and yelling for him to put her down. Which he does with a fond smile and a gentle pat to the top of her head.

"How was your trip?" Ostara asks as Robert throws his arm over her shoulders to guide her toward where their parents and Stannis are waiting.

Stannis looks more put out then usual, probably because their mother forced him into one of his best doublets and made him leave his studies to greet Robert when he arrived. There are a few other Lords and Ladies meandering about but most of them are down at the tourney ground preparing their tents and their gear to the events planned to take place over the next couple of days.

"Long, I'm glad to be home. How are you? I haven't received any letters, Ostara, one would think you didn't miss me."

"Oh shut up, of course I missed you," Ostara says loudly enough for Robert to hear but not their parents. "I've been busy is all."

"Ah, the lessons of a young Lady. I don't envy you, Ostara."

Ostara remains quite as Robert steps away from her to greet their parents with a large grin and excited rambling. Much to everyone's surprise he even gives Stannis a hug and tell him how much he missed Stannis. It's hilarious, Stannis' reaction, but Ostara refrains from laughing outright even as Stannis grinds his teeth together and steps back out of Robert's reach.

He never does that when Ostara hugs him.

The realization makes her feel incredibly loved.

"Why don't you go freshen up and we'll meet for lunch in, say, an hour?" Their mother suggests, eyes warm and welcoming.

"Then may we visit the tourney grounds, Mother?" Robert asks, eyes wide and incredibly blue.

Cassana Baratheon reaches out to stroke her knuckle down his cheek and nods, "Of course, darling."

Deciding not to linger to see what other pet names their mother can come up with to call Robert, Ostara slips over to Stannis and motions for him to follow her before disappearing into the Keep with Stannis hot on her heels. Once they've gotten far enough away from the courtyard the two of them slow to a stop and stare at one another for a long moment.

"Cerys told me that they were making strawberry pie... Want me to grab us some?" Ostara asks.

"We're supposed to meet mother for lunch."

"Yes, in an hour."

"No."

"Fine... What about a biscuit?"

Beside her Stannis goes still and Ostara knows she has him right where she wants him. So she smiles impishly, curls her fingers around his, and leads him to the kitchens where the air is thick with the smell of smoking meat and other assortments of smells that makes Ostara's head spin a bit. Without much thought she weaves through the crowded kitchen and up to the woman that typically makes the deserts, smiling prettily and rocking back on her heels.

"Good morning, Alys, how are you?"

The aged woman looks up from her work and smiles at Ostara, revealing teeth that could have easily been corrected with braces and perhaps the removal of one or two teeth.

"I'm well. And you?"

"I'm doing very well, thank you... May I ask you a question?"

"You ain't getting any biscuits." Alys says and Ostara smiles a great deal wider.

"Oh, I'm not asking for me. I'm asking for Stannis, consider it a very early name's day present. I'm introducing him to harmless mischief."

Stannis shoots her a light glare but doesn't contradict her. He's learning. Ostara blinks owlishly at the woman and glances at the deserts that have been pulled out and set to the side to cool.

"Well, you can wait for later then."

"Please Alys? We'll only take a broken one."

Alys raises an eyebrow, amused, "What makes you think I broke any?"

"Because I'm your absolute favorite Baratheon and it'll be out little secret, right Stannis?"

"I suppose."

"That means he agrees." Ostara assures the older woman who snorts loudly before moving off to grab a couple of biscuits which she presses into each of their palms, the heat of them sinking into their skin but never burning.

"Now get, I got things to take care of."

"Of course! Thank you again Alys!"

And with that Ostara drags Stannis out of the kitchens, down the corridor, and to a window with a ledge they can sit upon.

Without thought she bites into her biscuit, moaning as it practically melts in her mouth. Beside her Stannis picks his apart into equal amounts and eats each piece with all of the poise he always eats with. Ostara watches him for a moment before smiling.

"Good isn't it?"

"It is acceptable."

Ostara rolls her eyes, sometimes Stannis can be such a little shithead.

~X~

The tourney grounds are full of tents and people and squires rushing about to perform their duties. Ostara watches it all with a critical eye and makes sure not to get in anyone's way. Stannis and Robert love it, even if her twin refuses to show it Ostara can tell. They love the colors and the knights and the chaos of it. Ostara thinks she could enjoy it too if she were so inclined.

But the truth of it is that Ostara has never taken a particular interest in the jousts or, gods forbid, the melee.

Perhaps if there were dancing Ostara would like it better, or maybe if she didn't have to watch every single knight participate, but there's no real opportunities to dance and neither her parents nor Robert would ever let her just not attend the tourney.

It's not that Ostara hates the tourneys, she doesn't, it's just that she doesn't understand why grown men want to knock each other off of horses or beat them near to bloody in the melee... Actually. She gets it. Men are idiots. Why wouldn't they want to do all of those things and more if given the opportunity?

Sighing, Ostara side steps a boy in a green tunic and slowly separates from her family to wonder off on her own to look around. Because there's no sense in staying with Robert and her parents when literally no one here is going to try and hurt her. Even if they did Ostara isn't worried about it. There are enough men here loyal to her father that any attack on her would be met with the full force of Stormlander brutality.

Beside, Ostara thinks as she weaves between tents and people, it's good to introduce yourself to the people you rule... Even if you'll never actually be their ruler.

And it's not a matter of sexism either. Robert is the oldest of her siblings and incredibly healthy, he might be a bit reckless but Ostara thinks he'll live well into his Lordship if he takes care of himself, and if he doesn't then Stannis will take his place as Lord of Storm's End. If Stannis dies, and Ostara hopes that never happens, then it will be her turn to lay claim to Storm's End... Not that she wants to really.

Ostara steps out of the way of a man in a deep forest colored doublet with a black raven sewn into the breast. She smiles at the man from House Morrigen before stepping off into a conveniently located alley made between two rather large tents where she practically immediately knocks into another person. The force of the collision sends her sprawling and she can hear the person she ran into suck in a startled breath.

"Watch were you're going!" The girl Ostara knocked into grumbles, causing a small smile to slip across Ostara's face as she rolls to stand and makes her way over to help the girl to her feet.

And when the surprisingly tall blonde haired, blue eyed girl who can't be more then a year younger then Ostara sees the young witch her eyes go wide with shock as her sick flushes red.

"What's your name?" Ostara asks, offering a hand.

Taking it and allowing Ostara to pull her to her feet she replies with a soft, "Brienne of Tarth."

"Well," Ostara says as she steps back, "Brienne of Tarth, would you like to accompany me through the tourney grounds?"

"I... Yes."

Ostara smiles brightly at the younger girl and decides right then that the two of them are going to be friends. She likes Brienne. The blonde is nothing like Alysanne had been and it's nice to meet another girl with goals that aren't seen as socially acceptable. Because the people of Westeros don't tend to encourage the idea of women becoming leaders let alone knights, which is exactly what Brienne of Tarth wishes to be. Even if she doesn't quite realize it yet she talks about wanting to learn the sword and Barristan Selmy more then enough for Ostara to make an educated guess.