Hello,
this is the beginning of the rewrite.
~X~
Can you survive the darkness, girl?
Ostara gnaws at her lip as she runs a hand over Rubeus' head. The crow's question has been a good distraction, something she can pick apart and explain away with logic while she listens to Cerys talk of King's Landing or while Melisandre makes little offhanded remarks about the evils of the world. They've been in the wheelhouse for three days and already Ostara is loosing her mind.
Normally she dreams of other things; past lives and old friends. Nothing she ever dreams of is as terrible as the dream she'd had last night simply due to the fact that whenever Ostara does have nightmares they're usually of something she's lived through. She can safely say that she's never lived through any of the events of last night's dream.
She's never met any three-eyed crow before either.
Casting a discreet glance at Melisandre shows the red woman resting peacefully against the padded bench. Ostara isn't sure how she managed to convince Lord and Lady Baratheon to let her accompany their daughter to King's Landing but she supposes that it might not have been a terrible thing. She might be vague and a little too devout of a follower for Ostara's liking but Melisandre has never once done anything to Ostara that has made the younger girl uncomfortable.
Burning russet eyes open without so much as a flutter of lashes to warn Ostara that she's been caught staring and she's forced to watch with burning cheeks as Melisandre offers her the wickedest grin she's ever seen on another human being.
"Have you slept, my Lady?"
Yes, my lady, it's what Melisandre's been calling her for days now. The words spilling hesitantly from between her teeth as if she's yearning to call her something else instead. Ostara has her own guesses about what it is Melisandre would rather be calling her and none of them would mean anything good for Ostara if others were to hear.
Absently, she slips her hand into the hidden pocket of her dress to roll her wand between her fingers.
"I've a question for you and I feel it better discussed privately." Ostara remarks before casting Cerys a glance.
The blonde is still sleeping peacefully and even if she weren't Ostara would have no qualms about discussing her dream in front of Cerys. Waking her seems ridiculous as there's no telling what Melisandre is going to have to say about her dream, besides, Cerys isn't aware that Ostara isn't entirely normal. Should anything be discussed about Azor Ahai and the Others or anything else of the like then Cerys would be made aware of Ostara's talents and... Well, Ostara would rather tell Cerys herself then have the blonde overhear it from Melisandre, who Ostara suspects already knows a fair bit more about her then anyone else.
"Of course, I live to serve."
"When we first met you mentioned the Others... What are they?"
Melisandre visibly stiffens before sitting straighter on the bench.
"They are the children of the Great Other, beings of ice and shadow, capable of raising the dead to serve them. Have you heard the story of the Long Night?" Melisandre asks.
"It was a period of great darkness that spread across the known world, yes?"
Her mother had never wanted to speak of the Long Night but Ostara had always found it fascinating. There was nothing overly descriptive about it in the library at Storm's End but what was available to her was helpful enough to paint a picture. Darkness spread across the world, people died, and a hero rose to save humanity. It had seemed a bit too much like a fairy tale at the time but Ostara knows better then to discount anything simply because it seems impossible.
"The Others came from the Land of Always Winter." Melisandre clasps her hands in her lap, "When they came south they slaughtered many and brought them back as savage beasts. The Northern men fought back and eventually managed to erect The Wall to keep them at bay... Why do you wish to know this?"
"I had a dream before we left. I was in a land of snow and there was a three-eyed crow that sang to me and when I brought it close to me it revealed hundred upon thousands of dead men. Some of them I recognized. Just before I woke up it asked if I would could survive the darkness." Ostara glances out the wheel house window and watches as the sky begins to brighten a bit near the horizon.
"It is said that Azor Ahai will be born again when the Other begin to gather their power."
"Is that so?" Ostara asks.
"Oh yes, I've looked into the flames many times and seen you staring back at me." Melisandre admits.
"That doesn't mean much of anything," Ostara licks her lips.
This time Melisandre merely blinks at her before asking, "Did you know I was born a slave? I was sold to a Red Temple when I was young and it was there that I learned that I was blessed by the Lord of Light. R'hllor saved me, gave me a purpose. If he has shown me your face in the flames then it means more then you know."
With that said the red woman leans back, shifts away, and closes her eyes to effectively cut off the conversation.
Ostara is left feeling vaguely ill.
She'd known that there were slaves in the world but with none in Westeros it had been surprisingly easy to forget that it was still a prevalent issue across the narrow sea. No one should live in chains, no one should be forced to suffer that indignity. Ostara leans back and swallows the lump in her throat. She's got a lot to think about; Others and Long Nights and slavery. All rather heavy topics that need serious consideration.
Beside her Rubeus stretches his legs out in front of him and yawns before flopping down to curl up across the seat. He's doing well considering this is his first time in such a cramped space. Ostara's so glad for his presence in the carriage because it gives them all an excuse to stop and stretch their legs every once in a while. Sighing softly to herself Ostara rolls her shoulders, grabs a book out of her basket, and begins reading about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives while she waits for their guards to wake and ready themselves for another long day of travel.
If she doesn't actually comprehend any of what she's reading and merely resorts to flipping through pages no one knows but her.
~X~
King's Landing smells just as bad as Ostara remembers it smelling, perhaps even worse.
The fact that the city doesn't have a proper waste disposal system is pitiful at best and disgusting no matter what. Dumping waste product in the bay is hardly a proper way of getting rid of not only the physical evidence that people need to relieve themselves but the stench of it as well. If anything, it only exasperates the issue of disease and uncleanliness in the city.
The young witch watches as the men and women in the street pause to stare at her party, some of the children wave and, never one to disappoint, Ostara waves back much to the little ones' delight. But eventually the common folk are replaced with castle guards in crimson and black the closer they get to the Red Keep.
"Will Prince Rhaegar be here to greet you Ostara?" Cerys asks as they pull into the courtyard.
"It's possible. He and Tywin Lannister's forces arrived before us."
Even so, the King will likely not be greeting them today.
Word is the Maester here has insisted that he rest a few days. Allow his body to recover from the strain it was under while he was imprisoned by Denys Darklyn.
Ostara thinks that counseling would be even better for him but PTSD isn't an acknowledged issue in this world and so there's likely not anyone equipped to handle a traumatized King. Ostara's not even equipped to handle it and she's been through therapy. She could offer advice to either the Maester or to the King himself but she doubts either would listen to her and any potions Ostara might be able to brew would take months to prepare seeing as she'd have to get her hands on some very specific ingredients.
"My Lady," Melisandre's voice pulls her away from her thoughts, "it is time."
Ostara nods and gathers her skirts as Daevyn Sand opens the wheelhouse door.
Rubeus leaps out first, stretching and basking in the open space even as court goers twitter around him, Ostara follows with her head held aloft and her eyes forward. She spares a brief glance at Cerys and Melisandre as they step out of the carriage to ensure they're alright before plastering on a polite smile and making her way toward the silver haired Queen standing among a group of extravagantly dressed women.
None of them are familiar to Ostara.
None of them are the Dornish princess Delone with her serpent eyes and glossy hair.
None of them are Joanna Lannister with her honey gold hair and summer grass eyes.
None of them are Cassana Estermont with her earth hued skin and striking bone structure.
These women, though lovely in their own rights, are unfamiliar to Ostara. Strangers in all but their status.
Ostara stops mere feet from the Queen and dips into a low curtsy, fingers curling in the silk of her skirt to keep it just above the dirt as is custom.
"Your Grace."
"Hello Ostara, I trust your journey went well?"
She rises, smiling charmingly at the woman whose eyes are similar to her own.
"I found my time occupied by nothing but books and laughter."
A lie, a bloody lie, but Ostar'a getting good at telling them.
Rhaella doesn't seem to notice. Why would she? She hasn't spent enough time around Ostara to know her tells. Only Stannis can boast that much and only because Ostara so rarely lies to him in the first place.
"Lady Ostara, these are my Ladies-in-Waiting; Lady Alysanne Rosby," the pretty brunette in the yellow gown curtsies, "Lady Falyse Stokeworth," this time a fishy looking woman with long raven hair curtsies, "and Lady Laena Gaunt." the blonde with puffy red eyes curtsies next.
None of them are truly that stunning to look upon. Lady Alysanne is pretty but only by so much. Ostara finds herself wondering why Rhaella chose these women particularly. Only one of them is the current heir to a house, Ostara understands the benefit of having Lady Stokeworth around, but the other two? Not so much. Surely there were other Ladies who attempted to gain the Queen's favor?
And then it hits her.
These women are not lovely enough to tempt Aerys.
That's the reason Rhaella dismissed her original Ladies-in-Waiting wasn't it? To keep them safe from her husbands wandering eyes and nimble fingers. Ostara can respect the thought the Queen put in when choosing these women but it all seems rather arduous. If the King is going to bring another woman into his bed there are plenty of pretty serving girls.
Perhaps it is to keep the women in her husband's bed out of her social circle.
"A pleasure to meet all of you, truly."
Rhaella smiles charmingly and moves to face her Ladies.
"You may go." She tells them, smiling even after each has disappeared at which point she turns to Ostara, "Come. I'll personally escort you to your chambers."
"If it please you, Your Grace."
Smiling, Rhaella slips her arm through Ostara's and begins guiding her into the Red Keep. She discusses the layout of the Keep as they walk, telling Ostara how best to get where at any given point, and Ostara gives her most of her attention. There's a brief moment where Ostara is forced to realize that the Queen is... Tiny in comparison to Ostara. At only thirteen Ostara is almost a quarter of a head taller than the woman walking beside her and she isn't even done growing yet.
Ostara shakes herself mentally and gives her attention back to the silver Queen who's talking about her duties as a Lady-in-Waiting. Every once in a while Ostata nods to show she's still listening but otherwise she remains still and silent, a lovely shadow that follows Queen Rhaella through the corridors of the Red Keep.
~X~
Her chambers are different from what she's used to; Large windows and marble floors and vines carved into the walls. Golden light filters into the room during the day and she suspects that at night Ostara will be able to count each of the stars that burn bright beyond this world's atmosphere. Everything is perfect, simple in its function but stunning in its design. Ostara allows herself a moment to stare as the servants place her belongings here and there about the room.
There's a grand wardrobe to hang her gowns in, a door that likely leads to a water closet, and another that leads to her solar where she'll be able to take guests should she wish. The writing desk and the bookcase are her favorites though, both pressed against one of the walls furthest from the grand four-post bed that Ostara will be sleeping in for the remainder of her time at court.
"Do you like it?" Rhaella asks, voice hopeful.
If Ostara was a betting woman she would say that it had been Rhaella who had chosen her new rooms.
"I think it's lovely, Your Grace, thank you." Ostara says it with a bright smile which seems to amuse the silver haired queen more then anything.
"I am glad you think so. Have you seen the view?"
Before Ostara can reply, though they both know she has not been able to observe anything beyond her new room, Rhaella guides her over to the small balcony, throws the fluttering curtains back and steps out into the light. Ostara follows, moving as gracefully as her now incredibly awkward body can, standing beside Rhaella to stare out over Blackwater Bay and the narrow sea. There's no comfortable way to observe the common folk living near the Red Keep and Ostara wonders if the silver queen standing beside her chose this room specifically with that purpose in mind.
All the same, it's a lovely view and Rubeus seems happy to bounce around the small space, knocking things about or moving them completely out of place. Ostara's just happy that the bed will be big enough to fit them both seeing as the shadowcat will eventually find himself in her bed one way or another.
Ostara doesn't feel safe here in the Red Keep, it might be one of the most secure places in King's Landing but Ostara's pretty sure her enemies are not going to be trying to crawl through her window. She's pretty sure her biggest enemies will be the ones who clean her room and gather her dirty clothes at the end of the day. The maids and servants and young women who will claim their loyalty one moment and stab her in the spleen the next.
Ostara knows just enough about the game of thrones to know that one does not enter King's Landing blind to its nature.
It's one of the reasons she was so relieved to hear that Cerys, Daevyn, and Melisandre would be coming with her. No matter what they will guard her secrets, they will not betray her to those looking to wiggle their way up the social ladder by bringing her down it.
"Is it not lovely?" Rhaella inquires, hands clasped before her.
"It is, your grace." Ostara doesn't bother trying to lie.
"I am glad you find it pleasing," Rhaella says, turning to look Ostara in the eye, "I'll leave you now, I think, there's much to do tomorrow and I think it'd best be done while you are fully rested."
"Thank you, Your Grace." Ostara curtsies.
Rhaella's smile is a soft, sweet thing and her hand is even sweeter upon Ostara's cheek as she says, "If you need anything at all Ser Grandison will be just outside your door. He may be aging but his skill have not dulled, you will be perfectly safe."
"Will there be anyone else? After Ser Grandison, I mean?"
"Yes, Ser Lewyn Martell will come to relieve Ser Grandison of his duties at some point later this evening, though I suspect you will have gone to bed by that point."
Doubtful, Ostara thinks smiling to mask her tension, very doubtful.
"Then I will be sure to thank them personally tomorrow, Your Grace." Ostara remarks, stepping back into the room as Rhaella begins making her way to the door.
The silver thread in Rhaella's bodice shines brightly in the light, fracturing the expanse of black that covers her slender frame. It is not a good color on her, black, it makes her appear faded. Washed out. Like she's a piece of colored parchment that's been left out in the sun too long. But Ostara does not say this, nor will she ever. Instead she allows the woman to place a chaste kiss upon her cheek before bidding her farewell.
Once she's gone and the door is closed tightly Ostara pulls her wand from its hidden place and begins making her way around the room, the tip of her wand dragging across the smooth stone. She puts up the strongest protection and repellent charms she can think of while spreading out her magic to look for any hidden spaces. There's a tunnel beyond the wall. Ostara can feel the emptiness there and so she ensures that no one will be able to get close enough to her chambers to spy on her.
She'll need to find the entrance to the tunnel but that can wait for another day.
Once everything is warded and protected Ostara grabs a book out of one of her chests, the chair from her writing desk, and moves to sit on the balcony with Rubeus curled around her feet while she reads in what little remains of the sunlight painting the sky a sweet dust colored pink.
~X~
"Are your quarters to your liking, My Lady?"
Ostara looks up at the mirror in front of her to find Melisandre lingering by the door. After placing the fine toothed comb down on the vanity Ostara turns to look at the Red Priestess and smiles kindly at the woman.
"They are... And your own?"
"I find them as comfortable as your darling friend, less, perhaps."
"Cerys? You're sharing a room with Cerys?"
Melisandre nods slowly as she makes her way across the small space to pick up the comb and resume the task Ostara has forgotten.
"For now." Melisandre's fingers are gentle as she picks tangles out of curly hair. "She is your friend is she not? This place is full of dangerous people, it would be a shame if anything were to happen to her."
It's not even remotely a threat. More of a casual observation. Something eases in Ostara's chest when Melisandre says it though. If nothing else Cerys will be safe with Melisandre simply because the blonde means something to Ostara. As long as they're friends Melisandre will do whatever is in her power to protect the younger girl. Ostara doubts the auburn haired woman would dare to betray her by causing Cerys any harm.
"Have you run into any trouble?" Ostara asks after a moment.
"None, but I will in time I suspect."
"If you need help," Ostara begins, "you will come to me, yes?"
Melisandre smiles a shark's smile as she puts down the comb and runs a soft thumb over Ostara's cheekbone.
"While I appreciate your concern there's no need for it," Melisandre pulls away with a gentle dip of the head. "For the night is dark and full of terrors."
"Everyone needs protection at some point, Melisandre."
"And would you protect me from the darkness?"
"I would."
"Even if I were your enemy?"
Ostara sucks in a deep breath.
Would she?
"I suppose I would... Depending on the situation."
"There will come a time, Little Champion, when the situation you're imagining becomes much more dire. What then? Hm?"
The older woman doesn't give her much of a chance to respond. Instead she presses a chaste kiss to Ostara's cheek before pivoting on her heel and making her way toward the door. She pauses, very briefly, to tell Ostara that Cerys will be by in the morning to help her prepare for her first day as Lady-in-Waiting to the Queen before disappearing out into the corridor.
Ostara waits for the door to close tightly behind her before locking it and making her way over to the wardrobe where she goes about layering charm after charm on the structure. Once it's carefully warded from prying eyes Ostara pulls the doors open and performs the same spell she performed in Storm's End. Smiling brightly when a rush of hot air hits her face.
Without thought Ostara steps into the wardrobe and out the other side, not even the slightest bit worried that someone will catch her. Because they won't. They never will. So long as Ostara's magic fills the hidden tunnels beyond her chamber walls no one will see her traveling to Valyria, no one will see her coming back. She's made sure of that much at least.
~X~
When she slips back into her room hours later, smelling of smoke and herbs and something tangy, she isn't expecting to find Cerys sitting cross legged on her bed. Nor is she expecting to find the other girl flipping through one of Ostara's personal journals. But Cerys is in her room, obviously waiting for Ostara to return from where ever it is Cerys thinks she went, and she is reading about dragons and magic and other things Ostara thought she'd made sure were hidden.
"I found the chest under your bed when I was organizing." Cerys remarks as she flips another page.
Ostara has never kept anything from Cerys. If there was a book Ostara owned that Cerys wished to read then the blonde was allowed to read it. If there was a gown Cerys wished to try on then she was allowed to do so. If there was something she wished to know then Ostara did her best to enlighten her. She cannot be angry with Cerys for reading the journal, it would be hypocritical and cruel. A betrayal of the friendship that she has so greatly cherished over the years.
"I was going to tell you." Ostara replies as she slips further out of the wardrobe.
There's no use hiding it now that Cerys has caught her in the act.
As she makes her way closer to the bed, Rubeus slipping out of the wardrobe behind her, Cerys closes the journal with tender care and places it aside.
"I already suspected there was something going on, Ostara. You're not exactly subtle." Cerys' tone is laughing even though her eyes are serious.
Ostara moves to sit beside her on the bed with a shake of her head and a, "I thought I was doing very well."
"Strangers would never suspect but I've known you all of your life Ostara. I know when you're lying and when you're hiding something."
"Are you angry?"
"A little hurt, perhaps, that you didn't tell me." Cerys admits.
"I wasn't hiding it from you purposefully."
"Why did you never tell me? I wouldn't have spoken a word of it to anyone."
Ostara nods slowly before saying, "I honestly never thought to tell anyone. It seems a bit mad to simple come up to a person and tell them I have magic. People would either believe me or they wouldn't and once they realized I wasn't lying things could have gotten ugly."
"How do you mean?"
"People are afraid of things they don't understand and that fear often leads to acts of violence."
"You think someone would hurt you?"
This earns a slow shake of the head.
"Not necessarily in a physical manner but they might go after my family or my friends."
"I'm not afraid." Cerys promises.
"No," Ostara smiles a bit, "you're not. Are you?"
"I think I realized something was different about you that day I got caught with your book... I was so frightened that you'd be hurt but when I saw you later there hadn't been so much as a hair out of place. It seemed suspicious that he'd died in his cell and I, well, I didn't think you'd hurt him but I suspected something."
"I didn't kill him."
Cerys shrugs and moves to tug at a loose thread in her skirt.
"Will you tell anyone else?" Cerys asks to which Ostara sighs.
"If I tell anyone if will be close friends first. Melisandre already knows but she thinks me to be Azor Ahai but Daevyn isn't aware and I doubt anyone else in King's Landing suspects anything." Ostara admits.
There's a sudden pressure on her shoulder and when Ostara turns to look she finds Cerys resting her chin where she'd expected a hand to be.
"I think you should tell people." Cerys says.
"Why is that?"
"Well, no one would tell you no if they found out you could do something anyway."
This earns a sharp huff of laughter and a, "Perhaps... Or it could scare people into thinking they should kill me and that's too much drama in my life."
"You're afraid."
"Cautious."
Cerys rolls away and moves to get under the blankets. Ostara follows and once they're both settled Cerys twists around to face her.
"Sometimes your too cautious, Ostara, and it's just as bad as being reckless." Cerys whispers before placing a chaste kiss upon Ostara's cheek and rolling away to face the opposite direction.