The sun hangs like a large yellow jewel in the sky, casting it's heat down upon the city so as to drive people into the minute chill offered by the shadows of their homes. Ostara thinks it's a fair bit more pleasant than Valyria, which is almost always unbearably muggy no matter the hour, and she slips back into her bedchambers with a delighted smile that contradicts the aching in her thighs that has popped up after hours of exercise without her drinking enough water. Ostara winces as she places her satchel on the bed with infinite care. She doesn't want to damage any of the tomes she's brought from Valyria and while it's a risk to bring them here Ostara hadn't been able to help herself.

No one else is in the room. Melisandre is likely off doing whatever it is Melisandre does in her spare time, Cerys had promised to look after Rubeus, and Daevyn is likely off in the training yards working on his forms. It means she has enough time to get herself a bath without having to worry about anyone disturbing her. With a tired smile Ostara pulls her wand from the holster she has hidden in her boot and quickly transfigures a rock she keeps on her desk into a large bathtub which she quickly fills with water. Several charms begin heating the water, allowing Ostara the opportunity to strip out of her clothing, pin her hair up in a sloppy bun to keep it from getting wet, and gather her toiletries off of the stand Cerys tends to keep them on. The silver tray goes on a short stool next to the bath before she steps into the tepid water with a wince. Still too cold for her liking but Ostara's more concerned with getting cleaned up and so there's really no use fretting over it, not when the charms are still working and will likely have the water at more agreeable temperatures well before Ostara's finished bathing. Snagging a sponge off the little tray of toiletries and some soap Ostara washes residual salt and dirt off of her skin.

"Lady Ostara? Lady Ostara is that you?" A muffled voice seeps through the door, causing Ostara to sink deeper into the water before she remembers herself and twists around to star at the door.

"Yes! Who is it?"

"It's Cerys, my Lady!"

"One moment!"

Ostara stretches down to grab her wand. The ornately carved wood practically vibrates in her hand as Ostara casts a silent alohomora so that Cerys can enter her room. Seconds pass before the blonde's head peaks into the room. When she catches sight of Ostara blue eyes widen before she disappears again. Ostara frowns but doesn't rise from the tub and several long moments pass before Cerys - and Rubeus- slip into the room. Cerys looks a little flustered but Rubeus charges to the side of the tub the second he spots her, his overly large front paws splaying out across the lip of the tub as he uses it to hoist himself up so he can nuzzle against Ostara's head with a loud hurumph!

"Down!" Ostara laughs as she shoves at her familiar's chest, "Down!"

A rough tongue slides across her face, a paw slips off the lip of the tub and into the bath, and then Ostara manages to push her lovable shadowcat back onto the floor where he curls up next to the tub.

"Ostara?" the sound of Cerys' hesitant voice makes Ostara frown a bit as she turns to look at the blonde.

Cerys seems distressed about something but Ostara can't be certain that she actually is because Cerys is offering her a sweet smile and her body language is at ease despite the tension around her eyes.

"Is everything alright Cerys?" Ostara asks, eyes never leaving the other girl.

"Yes," Cerys steps closer as she continues, "Prince Rhaegar was here, he wishes to speak with you as soon as you're, erm, presentable."

Ah.

That makes sense then.

It couldn't have been comfortable telling the prince that the reason he had to leave was because Ostara was naked and soaking in the bath. A low snort escapes her as Ostara imagines how awkwardly the two of them would have interacted after Cerys disappeared from the room and almost wishes she'd been aware that Rhaegar was there. She would have found out some way to observe them that way.

"Did he say what he wanted?" Ostara asks.

"He said it was a private matter, Ostara... He seemed very tense."

Lips press into a firm line at the news. Rhaegar's a somber man but Ostara can't think of a time she's ever seen him display any emotions outside of soft joy and careful neutrality. Unease flits across her mind, making Ostara gnaw at her lip as Cerys slips off to gather clothes for Ostara to wear before coming to kneel beside the tub.

"I'm sure it's nothing." Cerys tries to soothe but she looks worried herself.

Ostara smiles thinly at the other girl as she returns to the task of washing herself of the dirt and grime she's accumulated over the evening. Talking to Rhaegar is not how she'd wanted to spend the rest of her day. She wanted to play sick, feign a headache or something else that would have easily gotten her the afternoon to herself so that she could read and sleep to her heart's content, but now she's stuck handling whatever issue's got Rhaegar in a twist and doesn't that sound lovely? With a huff Ostara rises and uses her wand to magic away the water while Cerys snags her robe off the bed. After trying the sash around her waist Ostara returns the tub to it's original form, places the rock back on the desk, and then goes to sit at the vanity so she can wrangle her hair into something more presentable. She ends up having to weave it into an intricate braid as she doesn't have time for much else and she's not going to bedazzle herself for a friendly - or maybe not - gathering with Rhaegar.

She steps into the dress Cerys chose for her without much thought. It's simple; blue with long sleeves and a skirt that drags on the ground a little, the only embellishment comes from the jeweled belt Cerys fastens around her waist after finishing the ties racing down her back. The dress is meant to be worn during public outing when pretentiousness is expected by the hosts but the event being attended requires something more casual. As she adjusts the sleeve Ostara shakes off the discomfort she's begun to feel.

"Has anything happened while I was away, Cerys?" Ostara asks, twisting her head so she can look at the girl over her shoulder.

Cerys swallows heavily, peaking up at her with wide eyes, and nods slowly, "There have been... rumors... about you."

"Me?"

"Yes, and dragons."

Ice lances through Ostara's body and her voice trembles with something hot as she asks, "What are the rumors, exactly, Cerys?"

"That you've hatched four dragons and are hiding them with old magic."

"That's very specific information, Cerys." Ostara swallows the all consuming rage that has replaced the ice. "Did you facilitate these rumors?"

Cerys says nothing for a long moment but she eventually nods her head and says, "Melisandre said that it would be best to begin the rumors now, while people think highly of you... She said that it would keep the common folk and nobility alike from attempting to harm you when it became known that you have magic."

"Melisandre?"

"Yes."

Ostara swallows against the lump in her throat. Once, twice, three times and the rage is shoved behind clinical observation and understanding. Fingers tremble as they wrap around Cerys' wrist and the action of the young girl cringing remind Ostara of another girl who'd sobbed and screamed and cried as the evidence of her betrayal sprung up across her face, marring both cheeks and the bridge of her knows. It reminds Ostara of a young girl who had known better and still sold them out, who had been forced to live with it for the rest of her natural life.

S-N-E-A-K.

They'd been young then, children, and while Hermione had never regretted it Ostara finds herself... unable to direct her rage at Cerys. Because in all honestly, Melisandre had been the one who orchestrated this. Cerys had been a willing participant, yes, but she's now standing before Ostara looking like she's about to bawl and confessing her misdeeds. Ostara drops the wrist in her hand and sucks in several deep breaths.

Ostara turns her back on Cerys, sweeping out of the room in a swirl of powder blue silk with Rubeus slinking along beside her. Cerys doesn't make a move to stop her and for that Ostara is thankful. She's so mad right now, so incredibly angry that if she were to say anything to Cerys it would not end prettily for either of them. Cerys is her friend, has always been her friend, and she's forgiven - perhaps - worse offences offered to her by people she's claimed as her friends in the past. Many pasts, actually. Ron and Hermione had not started out on the best of terms and she'd forgiven him for several transgressions against her person. Besides, Ostara isn't perfect. She's made mistakes, stupid decisions, hurt people for the pure delight of it. What right does she have to rain judgement on Cerys when the other girl had been so distraught over it. But was she really? Was Cerys' emotion that of regret? Ostara shakes her head to clear her mind of such thoughts. Ostara has never raised a hand to Cerys before so why would the blonde be afraid of her?

Melisandre.

That's why.

The Red Woman will need to be dealt with, reminded of her place or possibly even disposed of.

Fire licks at her bones, at her mind, as Ostara makes her way through the keep in search of Rhaegar. Where would he go to have a conversation such as the one they're about to have? His chambers? There are passages all throughout the Red Keep and Maegor's Holdfast, it would be foolish to try to hide there. The gardens? Also another place for people to listen in on private conversations. There is no place in this Keep that's safe for them and Ostara's not about to give him any reason to believe the rumors by showing him magic. He can't know. Ostara doesn't want him to know. Not yet, not when she still hasn't gone North to find the Three-eyed crow, not when she still isn't sure she wants... Rhaegar can't know yet, not like this. Ostara curls her fingers so that her knuckles pop as she makes her way through the Keep in search of her silver haired friend- enemy? what is Rhaegar now that he suspects?

At her side Rubeus lets out a soft yowl that causes several people in the corridor to scurry out of the way. Ostara doesn't blame them. Now fully grown Rubeus' shoulder is at a height with Ostara's hip, the top of his fang-filled hear stopping at her waist, he probably looks like something out of a nightmare and that's without the claws and fangs. His temperament has always been good but Ostara understands why people who don't interact with him on a daily basis would think that his low growl and soft hisses are signs of danger. Ostara reaches out to curl her fingers through the fur at the scruff of his neck. The attempt to ground herself works a bit and Ostara gently uses the side of her leg to nudge Rubeus in the direction of the gardens. If Rhaegar wishes to talk then he can speak with her in the Godswood, seeing as it's not typically used by the inhabitants of the Keep and would be relatively easy to spell Ostara things it's the safest place to have their confrontation.

No one attempts to stop her, no one rushes at her brandishing steel or fire, and Ostara makes it to the Godswood unmolested and a fair deal calmer than she had been moments before. Depending on how fast the rumors spread and how many people believe them it doesn't seem like too many people are taking the news negatively... but why would they? Visenya Targaryen was rumored to have practiced magic but she lived so long ago and the records of her life are so unreliable that who can actually say whether or not the Targaryen queen had any magic at all? Maggy the Frog has a special sort of magic that gives her the Sight, but is it magic like Ostara's? Perhaps, or perhaps not. The only people Ostara can compare herself too are all questionable characters - religious zealots, temperamental bird men, and strangers across the seas that she's never met - and she doubts that comparing herself to a dragon would be well received by, well, anyone. Except maybe Aerys. Something tells Ostara that he would be delighted if she came out claiming to be dragon-blooded and magical to boot. He'd probably try and call her Visenya reborn or something equally as idiotic and then he'd probably try and marry her.

"Your maid said you were looking for me."

Ostara jumps, muscles tensing and heart racing in her chest as she turns to face Rhaegar. She hadn't heard him approach but she thanks every deity she's ever heard of that he's alone. Slowly, she clasps both hands behind her back and eases her wand out of her sleeve so she can cast silently without him seeing her wand. It's tricky, but she manages to cast the proper spells before shoving her wand back up her sleeve.

"Her name is Cerys," Ostara grits out, "and she told me that you were looking firs."

Rhaegar moves closer, lavender eyes darting across the features of her face and down to the tips of her toes, no doubt looking for fangs or horns or warts or whatever else he's been told witches have that set them apart from normal, non-magical human beings. Too bad for him the only odd thing about her appearance are her eyes and those are completely Targaryen in their nature. Safe to say, he's going to be disappointed.

"Of course, forgive me, there's just so much to discuss." Rhaegar says as he steps closer, now only a few inches from Ostara.

The desire to step back and away from him is strong but Ostara just squares her shoulders and raises her chin. She will not be cowed by Rhaegar Targaryen.

"What do you want, Rhaegar? What was so important that you're terrorized my friend?" She asks, demands, really.

It makes Rhaegar laugh. Not the pleasant kind that makes his eyes light up, no, this is a huffed thing of disbelieve that doesn't have any business coming out of Rhaegar's mouth. Soon enough the misplaced laughter dies and with it the carefully maintained pleasantness that had filled Rhaegar's face when he'd spoken to her moments ago, in its place is something akin to panic and Ostara decides she doesn't much like that either. Because no matter what Rhaegar is still her friend, she'll still support him - within reason - at the end of the day and he's still the boy who sent her letters and books and other such things. Ostara doesn't want this conversation to end with her loosing the easy relationship she has with him.

"Have you heard the rumors, Ostara? I haven't seen you since they started and so I was forced to assume that you'd sequestered yourself away, but when you refused to see me I... well, I thought that perhaps you were ill and unaware of them."

"Oh," Ostara begins, tone biting, "I am aware of the rumors. I have much to say about the one who started them."

"Are they true, Ostara? Do not lie to me, I cannot protect you if you lie."

"Protect me? Rhaegar, if rumor is to be believed it was a child who believes he or she saw a dragon in the Red Keep! It is one thing to indulge a child's flight of fancy but to actually believe them? It's foolish! And in a place like King's Landing adults should know better than to believe tales of dragons and magical women! Wasn't it your grandfather and uncle who died trying to bring dragons back into the world? They were full blooded Targaryens and they couldn't do it! What makes you think that I have the ability to do so?"

Rhaegar looks around, probably to ensure no one is listening, before turning around to address Ostara, "The Red Woman calls you Azor Ahai, tells anyone who will listen that you've been chosen by R'hllor to deliver the world from darkness. Ramblings of a mad woman? Perhaps. But you cannot deny how suspicious her claims and the sudden rumors of dragons are."

She's going to kill Melisandre.

"Adults talk and children listen, Rhaegar, who's to say they weren't imagining the dragon because they overheard Melisandre muttering about it?" Ostara asks, hoping that she can put doubt in his mind.

Unfortunately for her Rhaegar seems bound and determined to believe Ostara has magic because he shakes his head and says, "No, Ostara. We both know that's not it. Melisandre's ramblings and the children are one thing but I know you Ostara, I've known you since we were children and you've always been so different from other children, girl and boy alike."

"I'm very intelligent."

"Yes, and I find myself in awe of your brilliance every day, but you know that's not what I speak of. Ostara, you've been doing and saying things that no one else would say or do since you were a girl. I always thought it odd, your intensity, but the longer I've known you the more I've come to realize that it is no oddness that follows you." Rhaegar says and it makes Ostara feel... raw. Like she's been cut open and had all her organs exposed to Rhaegar's interest.

Whatever this is, whatever he's trying to accomplish, Ostara doesn't think it has all that much to do with magic. Maybe it does? Maybe this is some sort of ploy? An attempt to get her to lower her guard so that she'll let something slip? Would Rhaegar stoop that low in order to figure out whether or not Ostara has magic? Dragons? Why does she care if he does or not? Rhaegar is her friend, that's why. She's told him things and let him be part of things that she's never allowed others to be part of, even Stannis, who she loves with all the fierceness a dragon is capable of, is not privy to some of her innermost thoughts. Rhaegar's hitting a nerve Ostara wasn't aware she had and she hates the sudden feeling of wretchedness that lances through her. So, like all wild things backed into a corner with no way to escape, Ostara lashes out as best she can without exposing herself.

"Then what? Are you truly so desperate for your family's legacy, your family's lost glory, that you would resort to believing children? You're following the same path as your grandfather before you and for what? If cost your grandfather not only his crown and his life but Duncan's life as well. So many lives lost in a desperate bid for glory... I always thought you were better than that, Rhaegar, apparently I was wrong." She snarls and then almost retreats when the warmth in Rhaegar's eyes turns frigid and cutting.

"And what of you, Ostara? You are miserable! Don't pretend as though you're not! I see it; you settle into your role as a Lady under my mother, simpering and laughing with the rest of them, but I see it! You're hiding from something! Burrowing down and using the other Ladies of the court to disguise what we both know is lurking inside your head!" He calmly says, but his voice is colder than Ostara's ever heard it and it cuts deeper than any blade probably could.

Because he's right.

She is hiding from something.

But that's none of his business and neither is her magic so Ostara steadies herself and spits out a venomous, "And what might that be, Rhaegar? Magic?"

Rhaegar offers a bitter laugh, "You're a Targaryen by blood, Ostara, I wouldn't be surprised if there was more than just magic lurking in that head of yours."

"What are you implying?"

"You've heard, haven't you? Every child knows that the Targaryens have always danced too close to madnss."

"I am not mad." Ostara snarls, outraged, because she has been called many things but the implication that she is unsound of mind has always been a comment that has roused all sorts of negative reactions. In every life.

Ostara knows her faults, madness is not one of them.

"If you have no magic what else could it be? Perhaps you are like Maegor? No, I don't believe you resemble Maegor in character. Aerion is the Targaryen you resemble most. He was said to dabble in the black arts." Rage burns in Ostara's body, a mixture of deep hurt and resentment for all that he's implying, but despite the look she's giving him Rhaegar continues- though hesitantly and with a softer tone- "Is that what you are like, Ostara? Sweet tempered and docile before the eyes of the court but behind closed doors nothing more than a mad, vicious harpy?"

"I am not Aerion."

"Then what are you? You're hiding something, Ostara, I've seen it! I've dreamed of it! You and dragons and a world bathed in ash! Why you do hide from those who wish nothing but the best for you, Ostara?!"

"Is that what you want? A world bathed in ash and fire? You think that is what is best for me? For anyone?" She asks through clenched teeth, hands fisted so tightly at her sides that her nails bite into her flesh until blood coats her palms.

"Of course not! I simply wish for you to tell me the truth!"

"You can't handle the truth!"

There's a loud woosh! and a blast of heat that causes them both to jump and glance to the side where the oak that represents the traditional heart tree has erupted into flame. Ostara stares, horrified at what she's done, even as Rhaegar pulls her farther away from the fire and close to his chest so that he can wrap his arms around her and pull her closer to his chest. She allows it. The shock and oh Gods what have I done? of the situation urging her to take comfort where she can find it, and so she buries her face in Rhaegar's chest for a moment to steady her breathing, which in turn allows her to reach out with her magic and smother the fire trying to consume the great oak tree. The moment the fire dies Ostara rips away from Rhaegar with a snarl, baring her teeth and glaring through her panic-induced tears.

"Should anyone hear about this, I will rain down on you a fire and fury you could never hope to escape. Do you understand?" Ostara asks, voice nothing more than a raspy snarl.

Rhaegar takes a hesitant step forward, like he's afraid, like he's terrified of what she'll do to him.

And this isn't what she wanted. Ostara didn't want him to be afraid of her. She'd meant to convince him that the rumors were false, meant for them to walk away from this and remain good friends, she'd meant for him to find out a different way- a good deal of time from now when Ostara was ready to tell him on her own terms, friends confiding in one another- but now there's no going back and Ostara has no way to hide. Because she's lost herself to her rage and her fear and she'd set a Holy item on fire with her magic. There's no denying what happened now. Rhaegar saw it and even if he hadn't understood it Ostara's reaction made it abundantly clear.

Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods.

"Ostara-" Rhaegar begins but Ostara stops him with a desperate, "Stay away from me."

Then she's gone.

Disappearing from the tiny part of the Godswood tucked away from prying eyes with a deafening crack that no one but Rhaegar will hear thanks to her silencing spell. Apparating away from the Godswood and to her chambers where no one is around to see her tearing out of her gown and into a simpler one. She snatches the hidden satchel from under her bed, spells all of her private items into a sealed trunk, and uses a complicated set of enchantments that will make her sudden disappearance go unnoticed long enough that she can figure out what she's going to do. It's not a reliable spell seeing as Rhaegar will still know she's missing but everyone else will be more or less unaware. She'll be like a passing thought, there one second and gone the next, because no one will think to really wonder about her. With that in mind Ostara bars her bedroom door to keep anyone - Rhaegar - from storming in and quickly steps into the wardrobe.

Running may be the coward's way out but at the moment Ostara can't think of anything better to do. Staying is not an option, not witch Rhaegar searching for her, and if she sees Melisandre right now there's a very big chance that she will kill the other woman and right now... Right now the last thing Ostara wants to do is kill someone in a fit of anger. So she escapes to Old Valyria where her dragons and Rubeus comfort her as best they can and the world seems a little less chaotic.


A/N:

Alright! Things are getting good, no? I know that some of you might not think that this is a very good reaction on her part (and I agree to a certain extent) but I think that she went into this conversation with Rhaegar really convinced that she could talk him down and then things went south in a really bad way and her emotions kind of got the best of her. I think a lot of it had to do with Rhaegar implying she's crazy - which was a totally dick move on his part and he's gonna have a lot of grovelling and what not to do before he can be forgiven - because I think that the men (and some woman) in the world of AOiAF tends to hit on intelligent women. I also think that for Hermione it would have been a really big blow for someone to imply that she isn't smart or worthy of the intelligence she has, that no matter how smart she is it's not going to get her anywhere in life because she's a coughcough "Mudblood". So she unintentionally lashed out and everything unraveled too quickly for her to really step out of panic mode enough to realize she has other options.

But I don't think she would have obliviated Rhaegar or magicked him either, because she does hold his friendship in high regards and I think that she would have learned from the time she obliviated her parents that taking people's memories away from them (especially if you're trying to fix your mistakes) isn't exactly something that's OK. Hermione's done some shady shit in the past but I think that we all have certain lines we don't cross for our own reasons and I think obliviating Rhaegar would be one of them.

We're getting into a pretty big plot point of the story but I want this to be a long work so it's not going to go straight to fighting the White Walkers, Marrying Rhaegar, or coming out as a witch to everyone in the world now that she's exposed herself to Rhaegar. I know that the pace of this story has been an upsetting factor to some of the readers. We're going to be delving into Ostara's personal relationships, her internal progression as a character, and her development in the plot. We're also (re)introducing characters like; Oberyn, Cersei, and Stannis. We're at a point where the plot is starting to really thicken but we've still got a ways to go before we battle white walkers or confess our undying love for anyone.

Thank you for reading (you should also check out some of my other works if you haven't already, mostly because I see the 1K+ rates and reviews and then the lesser amount of those thing on my other stories and I think they're a little under appreciated if you know what I mean).

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