Growing 1.3

First Day of the Ninth Moon of the Year 286 AC

I crack open my bleary eyes to the silent embrace of night. My blankets tossed haphazardly over my small body from where Mother had tucked me in before.

Resigned to a fitful sleep, I curl into myself and wrap the errant sheeting around my body, trying to find a comfortable enough position to greet my dreams with.

But no matter my tossing and turning, sleep eludes me.

With a weary sigh and a cat like stretch, I get up from my bed.

It's only then that I notice the bands of moonlight trailing over and across my room. The luminescent light they give off surprisingly strong for the dead of night.

Feeling the last spiderwebs of sleep quickly falling away, I move almost without thinking. Out of my room and down the hallway. Up a flight of stone stairs, to the right and then once again up a flight, the stairs solid and cool.

The castle is silent and peaceful at this time of night, only populated by the occasional guard patrolling on the night shift. Yet I've walked these halls long enough to avoid any such meeting, my feet taking me where I need without too much thought.

All too soon I arrive at the Raven's Nest, the high turret where letters and correspondence are sent and retrieved. Yet, unlike much of the massive castle I call home, this room is far from empty.

Most of the winged creatures are asleep in their cages, although a few pairs of midnight black eyes track me silently as I make my way into the room. Thankfully they make no noise besides the occasional shuffling of feathers.

I like to think I'm a common enough visitor that my appearance is no cause for surprise. That being said, my visits aren't merely due by my interest in the black messengers, although that certainly plays a part, they are fascinating creatures. No, it's for the view the Nest offers that I seek out its heights so often.

From this high and open turret, the Tarly lands spread out far and wide. Lazy hills make up the landscape, dotted by small streams and tracks of forest and fields. It's an idyllic scene and one I love to view. I can even spot the hazy outline of the Red Mountains in the distance on a clear day.

But it's not the ground that calls to me tonight. I seek something higher than that.

A hunter's moon hangs large in the sky. A glowing ember that burns a hole in the night. The color somewhere between Dornish sand and the smoldering ash of a dying fire. It casts a twilight shroud over midnight shadows, painting the darkness in shaded hues of rust.

It's a surreal sight, even after three and a half years in this land.

Father once told me that I was born under a Hunter's Moon, much like this one I would imagine. That as he paced the halls of Horn Hill, waiting for Mother's labor to end, he would catch glimpses of the unearthly light high above the walls.

Ever since, I've found myself fascinated with them. Beyond the natural beauty they convey.

They call out to me. A silent song that beckons me from sleep on these long Autumn nights. With a gentle, yet insistent tug on my soul, this wide and looming celestial figure sparks something within me.

Somehow both energizing and calming at the same time, without fail I end up idling the night away, watching the orange orb move across the sky.

I will be exhausted during the coming day, but it's a cost I'm fine with shouldering.

All the worries that crowd the shadowy corners of my mind are pushed away, at least for a few hours.

Worries about my old life, my family and friends and the things left behind. Fears over the monsters hidden in the North, so far away yet inching closer day by day. The ever present dread that one day I will be found out. That the family I've grown to love will cast me out as a demon that stole their son and brother.

All of these and more dissolve like so much dust in front of the amber light of the moon. Until, when the morning finally comes, my body and mind feel that much stronger. With an energy the belies my lack of sleep, I get up from my perch to track my way to the kitchens. A fresh and thick slice of bread with butter sounds simply divine right now.

X X X X X

Twelfth day of the Ninth Moon of the year 286 AC

I knock on the door to little Talla's room, despite her inability to answer it, or do much of anything really as a baby of only three moons.

Of course she's not alone. Rare is it that neither Mother nor one of the Nurse Maids are around caring for the little cutie pie.

"Come in," comes a weary yet happy voice.

Talla sits sleepily in Mother's arms, cute as anything now that she's lost the pinched monkey face all newborns seem to have. She has the same dark hair as Father and the pale blue eyes of Mom. The same coloring as myself. I wonder if all my siblings will keep the same combination or if Mother's chestnut brown hair and Father's light brown eyes will make an appearance.

I make grabby motions and am rewarded with an armful of little sister. The sweet thing still content to doze despite changing hands.

"If I'm correct you should be in your lessons right now," my Mother's voice sounds from across the room where she sits in her padded chair.

I don't have to look to see the raised eyebrow she sports. I can practically feel it judging me.

"I was, but we were interrupted half way through. Father had some letters he needed Maester Hawrin to send out immediately. I'm not sure what for. He didn't seem in the mood to discuss it."

Mother just replies with a thoughtful hum and the two of us return to a peaceful silence. She rests her eyes as I gently play with my sister's pudgy cheeks.

Eventually she speaks up again, eyes still closed. "And what were you learning before your Father made off with Harwin?"

"Recently we've been going over the Tarly holdings. Mostly from an economic perspective. What resources we have, the crops we grow and metals we mine. Even the industry we produce in the villages and towns that dot our lands." I pause and continue. "I wanted to know what Maester Harwin thought about our stewardship. He does have a gold link after all."

"I'm glad to see you taking an interest in such things." She finally opens her eyes and takes in the two of us. "The Mother only knows what I did to deserve such a brilliant son. And a beautiful, healthy daughter on top of that."

"I have to agree," I respond with some mirth in my tone. "Two children, neither with the Florent ears? Truly the seven have blessed our family."

A half laugh, half squawk of outrages reaches my ears. I avoid looking to its source, more focused on the bit of drool falling down Talla's chin.

"Where did you even hear that! I swear, where did this tongue of yours even come from?"

I give her my best unimpressed stare and am rewarded with a slight smirk on her lips before she smothers it into a mock look of haughtiness.

"I never should have allowed you to spend so much time with Rhea when she visited. My sister can be such a gossip."

I roll my eyes as I get up and pass Talla back to Mother.

"Yes, surely that must be it. No one else I could have gotten it from." I say with a pointed look in her direction. Though to be fair Aunt Rhea is an incorrigible gossip.

"Oh off with you. Go play with that cat you love so much."

A grin breaks over my face at the mention of Mittens. The feline usually stalks the reeds of the Lilly Pool, the pond that sits at the base of Horn Hill, at around this time of day.

It'll be good practice to try and sneak up on the wily cat. I haven't gotten one over on her yet.

So with a kiss on the cheek I run off to my room and grab Sapling before heading outside. If nothing else it's a beautiful day. Best to enjoy them before Autumn turns. I've yet to see a true Winter after all.