AN.

I feel like a need to clear some things up really fast. I know I put a comment about it in comments section but I feel like more people will read this then that. So here we go.

If you don't like the story, that's fine. I am in no way shape or form able to forcibly influence you and make your opinions invalid. I am, however, able to say that unless you're giving constructive feedback and criticisms then saying that you don't like the story or you're no longer going to read it isn't all that necessary.

Also, I feel like Daevyn's been getting a lot of heat recently and I'd like to make a few things clear about his character. Daevyn's commentary to Melisandre about Ostara being Azor Ahai is not a sexist remark. When he says, "Azor Ahain, she says. It is always Azor Ahai with you." it's an exasperated statement because Melisandre is always talking about Azor Ahai - honestly, I think it would get a little old for anyone having to listen to it that isn't a devout believer. His next comment about Ostara being a girl is about her age, not her gender. Ostara is still in her early teens at this point and Melisandre is honestly pushing really hard for her to be a warrior, to save the world, and that's a lot of pressure to be putting on someone who is still a child.

Daevyn's reservations about her leading battle charges and fighting comes from the fact that Ostara is still young and doesn't have the training (or experience) needed to be winning battles or leading legions of soldiers. I understand why it might be seen as a sexist mindset, and maybe to a certain extent it is, but he's also the only one between he and Melisandre who's thinking of Ostara as a child and not as a savior or a soldier.

Thank you, enjoy the chapter.

"You shouldn't wear any of the dresses you brought from home." Cerys remarks as she sifts through the masses of Ostara's clothes.

"I can wear what I usually wear with Daevyn." Ostara doesn't look up from the list she's making.

In a few hours she and Daevyn will travel to Flea Bottom where they'll observe the current situation in the poverty stricken district and possibly even begin educating the children. It's not likely that she'll actually start educating the children today as she'll need to establish herself in the orphanage before she begins making waves. She'd hate for the matron to dismiss her and not allow her back should she think that Ostara's teaching are too... Extreme.

Hilariously enough, Ostara's plan to educate the common folk is rather extremist in its own right.

Common folk are not typically educated. If they are it's not likely they're taught anything but their letters and a bit of their numbers because many believe that because they are common, and therefore not as intelligent, that being able to do anything harder then sign their names or count coin is beyond their simple plebeian minds. What Ostara intends to do, what she intends to teach them, will makes waves among not only the common folk but the nobles as well.

"You can't wear a man's clothes, Ostara."

"Why not?"

"If anyone from the court saw you in a man's clothes while you were on your way to Flea Bottom they wouldn't have anything good to say. You need the support of the nobles just as much as you need the support of the common folk."

Ostara rests her chin on her hand.

"Then what do you suggest?" She asks.

"Do you remember my blue dress?"

"I'm not wearing your dress Cerys. It's yours and I'm not going to potentially it."

Ostara places her quill down and caps her ink bottle before she makes her way across the room to kneel beside Cerys. Together they sift through all of Ostara's simpler day dresses, putting anything deemed inappropriate to the side. Which means anything with excessive embroidery or overly vibrant colors are ignored for softer fabrics and more neutral shades.

Possibly alienating any of the common folk would be detrimental to what Ostara wants to accomplish but she also doesn't want to appear to be mocking them by dressing in what she assumes is every day dress.

Eventually Cerys approves of a taupe gown with simple white flower embroidery around the neckline and hems. It's rather plain in comparison to her other gowns but it still hints at the wealth of her family which will appease any nobles she might encounter tomorrow. Ostara thinks it's pretty, Cerys thinks it's perfect, so it ends up getting put off to the side with a slip, stockings, smalls, and a pair of sturdy boots that won't get ruined by anything unsavory she might end up stepping in.

Ostara is under no illusion that she'll leave Flea Bottom with perfectly pristine clothes but she's not going to wear her slippers. The soles are too soft and the fabric too thin. If she were to step in or on anything then it's possible that Ostara could injure herself. The boots are an old pair of Stannis' that she'd stolen from him and they'll do well to protect her feet.

Once all of the other gowns are put away the two girls clean up a bit and Ostara begins to braid her hair out of her face so that it doesn't bother her randomly throughout the day. It also looks more presentable this way, more professional.

"Can I confess something?" Cerys asks after a moment, causing Ostara to look away from the mirror and over to where her friend is sitting on her bed.

"Of course." Ostara whispers back, threading her fingers through Rubeus' fur.

A moment of silence and then, "I think what you're trying to accomplish is incredible. Not many would even think of doing what you're getting ready to do."

"I'm only trying to make life better for people."

"It's going to be amazing, Ostara. Simply incredible."

This makes the younger girl smile and shake her head before closing her eyes.

"Don't jinx it." She murmurs, too tired to be bothered by the pinch Cerys delivers to her side.

~X~

When Daevyn comes to collect her he's dressed in boiled leather and soft cotton. There's a sword strapped to his hip but Ostara knows there are more weapons hidden on his body somewhere and so she says nothing about the lack of subtlety. Neither of them are leaving the castle without some form of defense and neither of them are so foolish as to assume Flea Bottom is peaceful. Ostara is hardly surprised when Daevyn moves to slip a ring onto her finger, a simple bad of gold with a disk comprised of little onyx colored triangles that, when the base is twisted, are pushed up to form a pyramid sharp and strong enough to break skin or ruin someone's eye.

"Are you ready?" Daevyn asks.

"Quite." Ostara replies with a wide, toothy smile.

Beside her Rubeus rumbles impatiently before striding out into the corridor.

"Impatient little beastie." Ostara mutters as she moves to follow her familiar.

Daevyn laughs as he does the same.

"Does he remind you of anyone? He certainly reminds me of you." The Dornishman chortles.

"I am perfectly capable of being patient."

One dark eyebrow rises up the man's head as he says, "Very rarely perhaps."

Driving her elbow gently into his side causes Daevyn to laugh, a low snort of amusement that makes at least three different maids pause in their activities so that they can stare after the admittedly handsome dornishman. Ostara pointedly ignores them as she and her friend pass. Daevyn, however, does not. He smiles and winks and chuckles quietly when one made blushes hard and tries to turn away only to run hip first into a decorative table.

"How are we planning on getting to Flea Bottom?" Ostara asks as they turn a corner.

"We'll be taking my horse."

"Only the one?"

The look she gets is a dark one.

"Don't act foolishly, Ostara." He mutters.

The young witch snorts as she begins making her way down the stairs leading to the main floor of the Red Keep. From there Ostara and Daevyn can access the stables where they can gather their horse and make their way to Flea Bottom.

Ostara makes sure to ward her coin purse.

While she has plenty of money to spare it wouldn't be good to encourage thieves. If one, especially a child, were to get caught they could lose their hand... Or worse their lives. It would depend on who caught them stealing and from whom they were stealing from.

She refuses to be responsible for a child loosing their fingers or their life.

Hopefully educating the children, and adults, of Flea Bottom will help them obtain the skills necessary to pull away from a life of thieving and reckless behavior in favor of something a bit more grounded. Being a shop clerk has got to be better then risking a limb, right?

Silently, Ostara follows Daevyn into the stables where she finds another man waiting beside one of the stalls.

She recognizes him quickly enough as Ser Lewyn Martell.

Ostara's never met the man personally but he has a warm face, warmer eyes, and a pleasant smile. He is everything Ostara might have expected of a Martell and she's not disappointed to see that his eyes do not have the same viper-like quality as the princess. She thinks that he is imposing enough without that startling intensity.

"Ser Martell," Ostara greets causing the man to offer a wide smile.

"Lady Ostara, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Ser Lewyn say before placing a chaste kiss to her knuckles.

Ostara is quite charmed.

"I assure you the pleasure is mine. Might I inquire as to the reason you've decided to join us today?"

Across from her Lewyn is smiling a wide, dimpled grin. The amusement in his eyes gentle and full of kindness, not the harsh mocking glances she may have received from any other member of the Court. It's a nice reprieve.

"Did Daevyn ever tell you that we grew up together?" Lewyn asks.

"He did not."

A mischievous glance at the currently silent Dornishman makes Ostara want to snort.

"I was the one to teach him the sword."

This earns the man a curse and a crude gesture. "You taught me shit, Martell."

"Language."

"I've heard much worse, Ser Lewyn..." Ostara says, allowing her words to trail off as he turns a critical eye in her direction.

Something about the way he looks at her makes Ostara pull her shoulders back, raise her chin higher into the air, and stare him dead in the eye. There's is absolutely nothing malicious in the way he looks at her, nothing to make Ostara feel uncomfortable, but she knows when someone is sizing her up and Lewyn Martell is doing exactly that.

A few moments pass between them with nothing but the sound of their horses and Daevyn's quiet muttering to offer any sort of distraction.

Then Lewyn Martell smiles widely and says, "You remind me of my Nephew."

"Doran or Oberyn?"

"Both I suppose, but mostly you remind me of Oberyn... You've a look to you that reminds me of him. Something in the set of the jaw perhaps?" Lewyn shakes his head and snorts as if he's remembering something from days long since past.

Ostara isn't sure what to say in response to that as she's neither met Prince Oberyn nor heard anything about him that would make her take offense. Oberyn Martell is only six years her senior and at nineteen he's already fathered at least two daughters. Bastards, most would call them, but all in all they are merely children gotten on a whore from oldtown and a Volantene noblewoman.

Rumors have even hinted at another daughter being born to Oberyn Martell by a Septa and while it may just be wagging tongues the irony isn't lost on Ostara should it be true. In fact, it's rather amusing considering everything a Septa is supposed to represent and teach.

But there is nothing wrong with a woman having sex with a man, nothing wrong with a woman having children should she wish it, and there is certainly nothing wrong with a father wanting to be involved in his children's lives so long as he is kind to them. Ostara has never heard anything that suggests Oberyn Martell is cruel or disdainful of his children so if Oberyn Martell wishes to keep them close then that's his prerogative and no one else has any right to criticize his decisions on the matter.

Deciding that Ser Lewyn is likely trying to be complementary with his comparison between his obviously beloved nephew and a girl who's gained the affection of his childhood friend is easy enough. There's nothing to suggest that he hadn't meant it kindly and Daevyn has yet to offer any sort of reprimand. And so Ostara smiles.

"Then I'm glad to offer you even the smallest of amusements." Ostara says.

"And there," Ser Lewyn says as he shakes his head and turns away, "is Doran."

Beside her Daevyn snorts rather loudly before ushering her over to the horse waiting beside a rather bored looking Rubeus. Ostara offers her familiar a smile and a scratch before moving to climb up into the saddle behind Daevyn.

The Dornishman gently squeezes the hand she wraps around his waist before tapping his heels against his horse's flank and clicking his tongue against his teeth, causing the horse to snort before trotting off across the cobbled courtyard toward the main gate. Ostara glances back to find Rubeus chasing after them and Ser Lewyn following closely behind with a slight scowl, likely at having been left behind.

~X~

"Bowl O' Brown!" a woman in tattered clothing calls as she stirs a pot of mystery gook with a crudely carved wooden spoon. "Bowl O' Brown!"

"What is a 'bowl o' brown' exactly?" Ostara murmurs to either of her companions as they wander down a poorly kept street.

"Mostly barley, carrots, onions, turnips, and whatever meat the common folk can get they hands on. Typically rats or pigeons, though sometimes it's far more nefarious... I wouldn't recommend eating any lest you want to have an overly familiar evening with your chamber pot, Lady." Lewyn remarks rather darkly.

"Despite it's dubious origins and blatant disregard for sanitary it's a good way for the common folk to get whatever nutrients they need." Daevyn adds but even he looks rather disgusted as he watches a young man shovel spoonful of the slop into his mouth.

Ostara scowls.

"That's terrible."

"That's the way of it."

"Not for long." Ostara mutters.

And she has so many ideas, plans, running through her head that she almost forgets why they've come here in the first place.

Sanitary in Flea Bottom is horrid at best. People throwing their waste in the streets where children play and the adults step through it without a care in the world because they've learned to live with their lot in life. With no way to keep clean disease is likely spread rather quickly among the people and then the bodies are either left where they died or disposed of in other rather questionable ways.

It would be best to deal with the sanitary needs of the city as soon as possible. Ostara can do that later, sneak into Flea Bottom under the cloak of darkness and layer whatever spells she can think of to help with waste management. Of course, a proper sewer system would be best but to magically install one might be too obvious and Ostara isn't sure she's ready to out herself to the public like that quite yet.

"Lady Ostara?"

"Yes?"

Lewyn Martell raises a single eyebrow before turning to nod at a large, dingy two story building so very much like the others around it.

"The orphanage."

"Who owns it?" Ostara questions, eyes roaming over what she can see of the building.

"The crown."

Of course.

"Then I'd best find the matron and speak with her."

"It may be best if your looking to donate coin."

Ostara nods once before moving to step into the building with Rubeus at her side. She ignores the hesitant protests of Lewyn and Daevyn both. If anyone were going to try anything they'd have to get through Rubeus first and even then a single growl from the shadowcat would have Ostara pulling out either her wand or a dagger before anyone could touch a single hair on her head.

But still, their concern is sweet in it's own way.

Once she's through the door Ostara takes a moment to observe the orphanage and those living within.

There's a stone floor that's in relatively good condition, several doors lining the back wall and a small corridor that leads to what Ostara assumes is the kitchen. A staircase leads up to the second floor where Ostara can only just see more doors beyond the guardrail that must be used to keep little children from flinging themselves off the second floor. Light streams down from a large circle cut into the ceiling and as Ostara steps forward she soon finds herself stuck in a circle of colorful light.

Whoever initially built this orphanage had seemingly wanted to actually help the children who would end up here. Despite the poor condition of the building the material used to make it was of good quality considering the location of the orphanage...

Ostara sighs quietly before looking to the children milling about.

They come in all sorts of ages and they look as though they're being taken care of. A bit skinny perhaps but they seem healthy. Ostara's thankful for that at least, it means that the matron isn't spending any money being donated on herself and herself only.

Making her way over to one of the littler children sitting on a cracked bench Ostara kneels before the child and smiles brightly at him.

"Hello, my name is Ostara." She greets.

"Oscyr."

"How old are you Oscyr?" She asks, in part genuine interest and in part curiosity over whether he has learned any of his numbers.

He simply shrugs at her. Obviously unperturbed by the fact that he appears to be six or seven and can't even count that high. It's a travesty. One Ostara will be correcting in the very near future.

"Do you know where your matron is?" Ostara asks to which little Oscyr nods off in the direction on an elderly woman with kind blue eyes attempting to wrangle a group of small children. "Thank you, love."

Ostara leaves the boy with a gentle smile and makes her way over to the Matron who blinks in apparent shock when she finally notices Ostara.

"May I help you, my lady?" The woman asks, voice thick with an implacable accent and vague fear.

"Yes, are you the matron?"

"I am."

"Excellent, I'd like to discuss patronage with you." Ostara says as she glances around once more at the children.

Soon enough she'll see them in better clothing and in better health. So long as the matron accepts her patronage, of course.

"Patronage?"

"Yes, I'd like to become a patron."

"But you're a woman."

"Lady Ostara Baratheon, yes, I believe that should qualify me as such."

The matron makes a noise in the back of her throat that might sound a bit like a complaint before she schools her features and offers a timid grin that looks like it could cut glass.

"I'm afraid this establishment hasn't had a patron in well over a decade."

"Then how do you obtain funding?"

Something hot curls in Ostara's chest when the woman merely says, "We monthly a weekly sum from the crown."

Monthly.

A monthly sum.

How is that to actually help the children in this orphanage? How is it meant to cover the cost of their clothes or their food? Is it even enough to cover spontaneous medical needs? Ostara finds herself growing sick at the thought of little children dying simply because there wasn't enough money to cover the cost of their medicine.

With surprisingly steady hands Ostara reaches for her coin purse and removes it from her belt.

"Well, I'd like to add to that." Ostara quickly places the coin purse in the woman's hand. "It's not much; an assortment of dragons, stags, groats."

"I... My Lady..."

"It's for the children. I wish only for it to go to the benefit of them and the orphanage." Ostara insists and the woman merely nods, staring at the purse as if she can't believe she's just received anything at all.

"Of course, of course."

Ostara casts Daevyn a glance and he shrugs before turning his attention back to the little girl currently wrapping her fingers around his.

"Should you need anything at all send a message to Daevyn Sand at the Red Keep, it shan't be ignored that way."

Meaning - if a commoner comes with a message to a bastard it won't be ignored.

Seemingly unable to comprehend what's going on the matron nods slowly before shifting back and away, coin purse clutched protectively to her breast. Ostara watches her for a long moment before she turns her attention back to the children.

They remain at the orphanage for some time so that Ostara can speak with the children and entertain them with stories of dragons and magic and a boy who lived under the stairs. They are captivated by her, vying for her attention and some of them even cry when she attempts to depart the first time, only stopping when Ostara promises to come and visit them again.

Once they've left Ostara finds that she can't help but smile for she's done a good thing today, no matter what anyone says, she's done a good thing. And in King's Landing? That's a rare thing indeed.

~X~

The shop Lewyn Martell leads her to is quaint; pale stone, large windows, a chipped blue door that's propped open with a brick. It seems clean enough on the outside, but then, it is farther away from the dirtier parts of Flea Bottom.

Ostara laces her fingers through Rubeus' fur as she steps through the door and into the warmly lit interior of the building. Daevyn and Lewyn flank her, hands held carefully at their sides. Ostara ignores them in favor of making her way to a table where she takes a seat and motions for Rubeus to lay at her feet like the well behaved familiar he is.

It doesn't take long for her companions to do the same or for a woman to shuffle over to their table.

Ostara offers the woman a kind smile before she asks, "What would you recommend?"

"Bread's fresh, stew too."

"Then I'll take three bowls and a loaf." Ostara says.

"And the beast?" The woman asks as she casts the shadowcat a terrified glance.

"Rubeus? Oh, a bowl of water if you don't mind sparing it."

The woman nods briskly, obviously not happy with having a shadowcat in her establishment, and makes her way to the back of the shop. Ostara understands, she does. Under different circumstances Ostara might have felt the same way. Not many people can boast that they've got a pet shadowcat and their reputations aren't great. They're mostly known as relatively dangerous beasts that will eat humans if hungry enough.

While they wait for their food Ostara turns to Ser Lewyn and Daevyn.

"Thank you for accompanying me." She says to the two men.

"It was my pleasure, Lady Ostara." Lewyn replies, smiling broadly as he leans back in his chair.

Beside him Daevyn nods.

"It's a good thing, what you're doing for those children," he says. "Not many people care for bastards and orphans in these parts."

Ostara ignores the pointed look the two Dornishmen share with one another, opting instead to glance toward the back of the shop where the woman is gathering bowls and cups.

"Children are the future of the world are they not? What kind of person would I be if I didn't want them to thrive?" Ostara asks though it's fairly rhetorical as she's not really expecting either of them to answer her question.

They seem to sense that too because neither say anything about how Ostara's such a good person or how she's so sweet for taking an interest in the common folk as some of the other court members of King's Landing might say. It's strange to Ostara that none of them take particular interest in the common folk. Ostara takes interest because they are human beings with feelings and dreams, but if the other nobles will not take interest for the same reason then perhaps they would if it meant gaining support.

She's nearly startled when the woman appears and sets down a series of cups before disappearing only to return moments later with bowls and a plate of bread. After she's shuffled off, quick to be away from Rubeus, Ostara picks up her spoon and begins eating alongside her companions.

"It's good," Ostara says after a moment. "Why is no one else here?"

"People around here can't always afford fresh food and Myra doesn't handle anything less then that." Ser Lewyn replies after he's wiped his mouth with a cloth.

"Has she had to raise prices?"

"Not always, but even when she doesn't it's cheaper to get a bowl of brown then fresh stew."

Ostara frowns as she dips her spoon into her stew. Having fresh food as opposed to the questionable bowls o' brown being sold from pot shops would improve at least some of the health in Flea Bottom but with no steady income it's likely easier to afford the sludge sold on street corners then anything else. How sad that is. There are laws preventing bakers from putting sawdust in their bread but nothing ensuring that little children aren't consuming half rotten or diseased flesh.

"Well, on the bright side our food isn't full of human meat and year old vegetables." Daevyn remarks blandly around a mouthful of bread.

"Yes, because I would have ever let myself eat a bowl of brown." Lewyn comments idly.

"I bet it's better then you think."

"Now you're just being obnoxious."

Daevyn drums his fingers against the table as he stares out the window at the men and women scurrying around in search of food, pleasure, or shelter. Whatever he's thinking about isn't necessarily a bad thing as he's not clenching his jaw or glaring into thin air. Still, Ostara's not fool enough to think that he isn't upset about something.

She wonders, briefly, if Daevyn's ever been forced to rely on questionable materials to survive. If he's been so close to starving that the fear of possibly consuming human flesh isn't even a thought in his mind. Ostara's never suffered that, not that she can remember anyway, but she does understand hunger and cannot begrudge someone for taking the necessary steps to stay alive.

Even so, she thinks that the people of Flea Bottom need better resources as no one deserves to live the way these people are being forced to live. It's something she'll have to deal with soon enough. Ostara's not going to live in the same city as an entire group of people who are suffering and not doing anything about it simply because she's too rich or too pretty.

"How much do we owe for the food?" She asks as she digs into the hidden pocket of her dress for some coin.

She's stopped when Daevyn drops a few on the table as he levels her with a look that says that no matter what Ostara says or how much she insists, neither of the men with her will allow her to pay for their meals. It might be a bit too much for their pride to handle.

"Are you done then, Lady Ostara?" Ser Lewyn asks.

"Personally, yes, but we can linger a moment. I've no where to be." She assures, noting that there's still a bit of stew in his bowl.

Even though he nods Ostara can tell that he's eating a bit quicker then he probably would have otherwise and instead of saying anything about it she proceeds to gather up the loaf she ordered. She has every intention of doubling it until there's enough to feed a small army. That way she can come out with Melisandre and Cerys, possibly even Ser Lewyn and Daevyn, and pass out bread to the common folk who might not be able to afford it otherwise.

By the time Lewyn has finished his stew Ostara's already planned another outing and Daevyn has gone and gotten the horses so that they're ready when she and Lewyn make their way out of the shop.

Ostara allows Daevyn to help her into the saddle because, well, it's a bit awkward scrambling up on the back of a horse with another person. When she settles herself Ostara decides that next time she'll have to convince Daevyn to let her bring her own horse. He'll fight against the idea, of course, but Ostara doesn't want to have to ride passenger another time.

Once is one time too many honestly.