Magic in the North

Author's Note: I typically only leave a note on AO3, but I thought I'd change that. I'll do my best to remember. Alright, some shit happens that I know some people might say is unrealistic and done merely because I wanted to make the MC wealthy, but I did the research. Tbh, geographically and scientifically, it should be this way, so I'm going for it.

Any whooooo, this is the start to Luna's big plans. It's kind of a slow chapter for me. I promise, next chapter things will heat up, but things needed to be set up for now.

BTW, it's gonna busy for me for a while, so the next update on any of my fics might be a hot second. Too many damn final projects and papers ? ﾟﾘﾭ?

As always, feel free to check out the related fics, but ya don't gotta to in order to read this one. Thx so much to everyone for reading and sticking it out, especially those that comment. It feeds my fucking soul. ? thx again y'all!

XXXXXXXXXX

I growl, my fingernails digging into the ground as I drag myself toward the low burning fireplace in my room, from which I can feel my magic being drained like acid flowing through my veins. Tears fill my eyes as the pain leaves me gasping, but I need to get the disk out of the fire so that Father can destroy it before it kills me. It would be less painful to just stay where I was, but I'm not sure I can afford to spare those seconds, and I know that I have to focus on something, because if I don't, I might fall asleep and never wake up.

It's excruciating, and I can hardly breathe by the time I manage to get across the room and grab a fire poker, sobbing even as I knock the disk out of the pit and onto the floor next to me, not even as a few sticks come loose and burn my arms and hands. I can hardly feel it among the tide of pain already drowning me.

Mission accomplished, my body slumps, giving out even as I snarl at myself to keep fighting. Damnit, didn't you say you would help your friends? That you would save your family? Are you going to let them die along with everyone else in this world? Their souls will literally suffer eternally! A dark thought crosses my mind, one I hadn't let myself dwell on before. If I die here, and this world falls without the Others being defeated, when the dead come, will I rise with them, my soul bound to this dying world, never to see my loved ones again? I let out a breathless, hysterical giggle, making a mental note that if I survive this bullshit, I want my corpse burned and the ashes buried in the crypts with the rest of House Stark.

It's fortunate that at this moment, my Lord Father busts into my chambers, swinging our family's valyrian steel long sword, Ice, banishing my morbid thoughts with his dramatic ass entrance. "LUNARYA!"

I grunt, unable to really do too much more. His head swivels sharply, as he hears me, and then he's practically teleporting to me. Or perhaps I blacked out for a second. "Gods, Child! What. Madness is this!"

I ignore the frantic hands on me and bat the disk toward him weekly. "Ice. B-break it. Hurry!" My father is not a fool, and without more then a moments pause, he lifts Ice and brings it down on the cursed wood.

And the world explodes.

I scream, shocked by the explosion of magic. Vaguely, I register my father getting knocked back, the sound of glass breaking, and wood splintering, but I'm more concerned with other things. Bran has collapsed in the hallway on his way back from stealing a pie from the kitchens for a midnight snack. Ned, Lya, and Benny have contorted, yelping as they are forcibly awakened from where they were curled together. Mother has fallen to the ground, clutching the side of her and father's bed to hold her up. A whore in Wintertown is scaring the fuck out of the poor bastard she was servicing as she went still on him after warning into a nearby street cat. An old man in the Godswood has gotten his mind pulled into a greendream as he was praying. A child in a village has accidentally used their magic to drive a knife into the skull of their abuser. And on and on and onandonandonan- There is a flash of the pale man in the pale tree, and then I feel a shove.

I gasp, rolling over on to my back, limbs splayed and trembling. Fuck, that was gnarly. I almost got lost. Thank you, Treeman, you get a stalking free pass. "Pup, can you hear me?" I blink, turning my head towards my father's voice, starting slightly when I realize that for the first time in this world, despite my eyes having gone blind due to the visions I was pulled into, there is enough magic around me to sense everything.

Jest as my psychic abilities were ingrained into my soul, so was the ability to sense and weild magic. However, when I was born here, I quickly realized that something was wrong. The magic was being drained from the world, wrecking the balance. While I knew it was probably something to do with the coming Others, I couldn't change the fact that my magic was being severely stunted as a result. While I could still use a tiny bit of it, I couldn't afford to spend it on sensing my surroundings, so I essentially had to blind myself further.

Until I found the disk.

I had seen it when I went to cut free the eggs in the black pool of water, had felt its vileness, felt the way it had tugged on my magic. The feeling was so utterly disturbing that I nearly drowned myself cutting it loose from the vines and roots that had long since grown around it. I hadn't realized what it was, not really. I just knew that I wanted to make it ashes.

Father, when he pulled me from the water, caused me to slice my hand on the dagger, unknowingly helping me with the last step to awaken the dragons, something that would facilitate bringing back magic to this world. By nature, dragons were immensely powerful creatures of magic, and their mere existence will cause magic to appear around them. However, at the same time that my blood awoke them by spilling on the egg, it also smeared onto the wooden object, royally fucking me over. "Lunarya!"

I hum, shaking myself. "The disk. Its dark, dark magic. It worked to drain the magic from it's surroundings. When I accidentally fed it my blood, it was able to directly siphon me, and as I was already weak from waking the dragons, it nearly drained me dry…killing me." I feel a spike of alarm from Ser Cassel, Maester Luwin, (Oh, when did they get here?), and Father. With magic thick in the air, for once, I'm able to perfectly sense Father reaching for me, and I can't help the elation that spills across my face at the return of my ability to use magic as a form of echolocation, or sonar, an unthinkable feet before due to how much magic it would waste. It was very much being able to hear or see well after years of not being able to do so, a sense returned after being taken.

"I made a bit of a mistake," I admit, a bit sheepish at the feeling of my Father's distress, "I hadn't realized what it was. I knew it was bad, so I tried to burn it, but wasn't awake enough to notice how dangerous it was. An object like that can only be destroyed by which it was created: Magic."

Luwin makes a noise, and I feel giddy at my ability to sense the realization in his aura, another aspect of sensing I had been missing sorely. It's terribly difficult to read people when you can't see their facial expressions, or sometimes even their body language clearly. Being a psychic who can sense magic resulted in my ability to feel auras. Being without my ability to feel someone's emotions, intentions, or character left me far more hesitant in my dealings with others than I'd like to admit. Now that it, and my alternative way of "seeing" was back, my scheming would be outrageously easier. "My Lady, are you saying…"

I nod, "The reason no one's managed to recreate Valyrian Steel is because it requires magic. Hence why I needed Father and Ice." I tilt my head, amused by the dumbfounded vibe emanating of the three before abruptly remembering my greendream. "We need to go."

I dart out of Father's surprised arms and staggered out the door before any of them could recover, leaving them to hasten after me. "Child, explain yourself!" The Warden of the Northern growls as he chases after me.

I easily navigated the halls, revealing in my ability to feel the whole fucking castle even as bone deep weariness sets in, limbs aching from all the strain on my young body."When we broke it, the-the siphon, it released the magic it was eating! Any who should have magic by blood has now received it. Father, you felt it! It put you on your backside, too! We are Starks, born of the Line of Winter, descendants of the Builder!"

"Fucking hell, the whole family-" Father swears as we turn the corner to find Bran dazedly sitting on the ground in front of his pie. Father lunges for his heir, Luwin at his heels. As they fuss over my eldest brother, I swipe the mercifully undamaged pie off the ground before leaning against the wall, feeling for the warm magic I could tell ran through the oldest parts of the keep, and resonated outwards to nearly every part of Winterfell. I huff, finishing Father's words. "Every single Stark of Winterfell has awoken their magic."

"My Lady, you are fumbling like a drunkard with a barrel of the finest Dornish Red." I giggle as I'm gently picked up off the ground, and lean against Ser Cassel, comfortable in a man who was among my father's closest friends and aids: an uncle if I ever had one here. I wrap an arm around his neck in a partial hug, happily ignoring his surprise to bask in the feeling of his affection for me. It's amazing to feel such things again.

"Bran, are you well, Brother?" Bran's head whips up, startled.

"Luna! Aren't you supposed to be napping?" I shrug, breaking off a piece of pie and

Shoving it into my mouth, much to Bran's indignation.

"I got a magic boost, so I don't really need to anymore. We need to go check on the others, though. Ned, Lya, and Ben were sleeping together in Benny's room next to Mother." I tilt my head, stretching out my senses. "Maester, are my dragons in your quarters?"

Luwin boded, eyes wide. I had to put some effort into not laughing at the sudden flair of distinct academic curiosity. Luwin is a secret magic nerd. I hadn't really realized. "Yes, My Lady. Lady Lyanna has relayed your instructions regarding them and has been helping me in the 2 days you have slept." Only that long? "Did you learn how to take care of them from your greendreams?"

I nod, but it's partially a lie. This wasn't my first time bonding with a dragon, but these dragons, admittedly, are a somewhat different creature. I just figured the care would be pretty similar at this point: small critters to kill and bits of other meats to eat without danger of choking. Keep them warm and dry, and near fire. And lastly, a stone area. A full grown dragon could burn right through it, but not a baby.

I hand Bran what's left of his pie in response to his grabby hands! and my brother pauses to squeeze my ankle from where I'm perched in the arms of the knight holding me, serious for a moment. "I'm glad you're awake, Little Sister. It's not been very fun without you."

I smiled at him, my heart swelling with love. Bran and Ned had been the first I'd felt comfortable telling about my magic. Bran is wild and quick tempered, and Ned is logical and not one for nonsense and games, but neither thought me a liar, or worse, some kind of evil witch, an entirely plausible conclusion in this world. They were the first older siblings I can remember ever coming to rely on. Despite their youth, I felt like they would accept and love me regardless of anything, and they had. Without question. It meant everything to me.

It made it easier to confide in Lya and Benny when they caught me moving things with magic a few months ago. I probably would have waited a few more years to tell them if I could have, but it worked out fine since I had ended up needing their help to tell Father and get the eggs. It was a miracle that Benjen hadn't snitched despite being a literal toddler, but when he realized it was to "Protect Lulu" he was rather determined. He is precocious for an almost 4 year old.

In the end, we arrived in Mother and Father's room just as the others were about to come out looking for us. Shaken and worried, Father gave the explanations. Safe to say, we all ended up sleeping in the same room that night, and Father and Mother's protective instincts were on overdrive. For the rest of the night, I slept nestled between Ned and Benjen, the youngest in the center of the pile of children. I hardly minded, even with Benjen practically in my armpit, Lyanna's hand occasionally smacking me, or even Ned's cold ass feet and Bran's booming snores. I was more than willing to stay as close to my family as possible.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"So, there are some discussions we need to be having this morning," Father states,as we break or fast in the morning. We were eating in a small private dining room rather than the great hall. Only our family, Luwin, Ser Cassel, and Lora, my mother's closest aide, were joining us this morning. I glance up from my eggs, knowing where that was aimed, but unable to argue the point. "Lunarya Stark, you will be informing me of all you greendreams and plans from this point on."

Oh, dear. I set my fork down mournfully before looking up at my father. "No."

He does a double take, jaw dropping and then shutting and opening again. "No? Did you just say no?" I can understand his surprise. I'd never had reason to defy my father, so I doubt he could have anticipated the audacity. Unfortunately for him, the first seven years of my life before this was not a particularly good representation of my character.

"No," I repeat firmly. "I'm sorry, Father, that's not something I can do. To be honest, the next thirty years will either result in the fall of House Stark," and the rest of the fucking world, "or our rise. Every litltle thing I do or say can have far reaching and unforeseen events." I pause when I can feel the adults not getting it and decide to demonstrate.

"When Mother was pregnant with Benjen, I nearly erased him. Do you understand? He could have been unalived! Never! Born! You know how? I got sick wandering the Godswood, looking into the future to plan somethings. I only barely managed to fool Mother into thinking i was just tired and going back to her room that night. Even then, she was delayed by nearly a full hour. If she had insisted on watching over me that night, Benjen wouldn't be here!" I give a pointed look at my parents, feeling the shock accompany their realization that I meant that Benjen was almost never conceived by my indirect choices. And a bit of embarrassed that I was commenting on their sex life, albeit vaguely. "I cannot always disclose things because that becomes another person's actions I have to account for. DO YOU KNOW HOW DIFFICULT THAT IS? HOW MUCH PRESSURE I'M UNDER? I CANT EVEN TAKE A WALK WITHOUT HAVING TO CALCULATE HOW MANY PEOPLE COULD DIE! I-" I choke off abruptly at the feeling of two hands pressing down on my shoulders; Ned. I blink away the daze around me to the realization that the room is dead silent and that I've been pulled away from the table. Ned is standing in front of me, blocking everything else from view, squeezing my shoulders tightly, but not harshly.

I breathe out shakily, slumping slightly, and then flinching as several things clatter and thud around the room. I whip my head around to catch the last moments of several things crashing down from where they had started hovering in the air. I wince, now aware that I started accidentally magicing from an emotional outburst, and that, judging by the burning of my throat, I'd been screaming like a loon. Fuck, I groan, ducking my head into my brother's chest, that would be my anxiety flaring up.

Ned pulls me into a hug, and I cringe at the slide of a chair acrosss the ground as Father gets up and approaches. I can't quite bear to lift my head and watch, too upset and embarrassed to see if I've gone and ruined things. Are they going to be scared of me now? Will they wonder how much of their lives I'm controlling? Maybe they've figured out how much of a monster I really am, because let's face it, Treeman was right. I'm not human-

"Well, Child, I suppose you're well overdue for your first tantrum," my father says gently, kneeling down next to my chair. I whip my head towards him, eyes wide, as I focus on the softness in his face and aura, the regret and concern, all bolstered by love. Ned pulls away, his hand remaining wrapped around mine. "Forgive me, Pup. I did not think that far ahead. It must have been so difficult for you, and you've been dealing with it on your own-" indignant noises come from Lyanna, Bran, and even Benjen, and Father chuckles, pride filling him, "and only your siblings to rely on. Forgive us, Lunarya."

I toss myself into his chest, feeling his warmth soak into my skin and stop the trembling that had started. I shake my head. "No, Father. It is not your fault, or Mother's. I knew what I was doing. Hells, this isn't even my first life doing it. I'm sorry I lost my temper, though. It is a symptom of youth."

"Fascinating. It has been theorized that a child's emotional instability is at least partially rooted in physicality, to think…." Luwin breaks off into his own little mumbled nerd session, much to everyone's amusement. It was clear he hadn't meant to speak aloud, and that made it funnier, breaking the tension.

Mother laughs, speaking up for the first time. "It was fortunate that we received you, Maester Luwin, when we dismissed Maester Walys from our service. You have a far more positive outlook on magic, and I'm not sure what would have happened had we kept him on."

"Dismissed?" Lyanna leans forward, her curiosity sudden and intense.

Father growls, the mention of the old Maester instantly souring him even as he stood up, me still cradled against his chest as he heads back to his seat. "There was no way we could keep him on. Not after his words about my Lady wife and daughter."

My brows shoot up. Oh, ho. Now I'm curious. Do tell Father Dear. I knew the crotchety old bastard didn't like me, he sucked at muttering under his breath and "demon child" was pretty straight forward, but what did he say about Mother?

Bran demands an explanation for me, and father gives into his insistence, his lip curled in distaste. "He was rather vocal about Luna being some kind of evil cursed child born to punish our family for maintaining the old way, and it's likely she, and probably Lyanna, were… naturalborn as a result of your mother being… unfaithful."

I snarl, Magic surging at the slight to my lovely, kind mother, something that was a bit more rare for me as I tended to get rather awful mothers in a lot of my lives, and a few more glasses shatter in response to my rage. I cringe, embarrassed by my lack of control. "Sorry. That will stop when I get used to the new magic flowing in my body."

Lora, who acted as a sort of Head maid to the keep, was taking things like a champ as she bustles around, removing and cleaning up the mess I'd maid. Most of it had to get thrown out, so it was rather fortunate Father had let us mostly finish before he unintentionally set me off. I was rather happy with how well this was going, suspicious almost, until I remembered that everyone here minus Luwin were Northerners, born and raised in the traditions of magic and the Old Gods. Winterfell is the best possible place I could have been born, and that was no coincidence. I needed the best possible chance to complete what the gods asked of me, so here I was.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. "Anyway. Father, I cannot promise I'll share everything, but I can promise to keep you as filled in as possible."

Father looks to Mother, and they share a silent conversation before he turns back to me. "Acceptable. So, tell me, what have you been scheming?"

A grin slowly forms on my face, wide and a little mad, and the sudden resigned weariness in his aura nearly makes me laugh. Oh, Lord Stark, you have no idea what your getting yourself into. Time to start Phase 2 of Operation Winter Preperations: Pack Building.

XXXXXLUWINXXXXX

"Plans. She said she would bring us her plans. As in multiple." Lady Lyarra states, somewhere between amused, alarmed, and proud. "I suppose we shall finally see what exactly goes through that little head of hers when she becomes so pensive."

"It is a bit disconcerting to realize that all this time she was busy trying to keep us all from dying." Lord Stark grimaced and poured himself and Ser Cassel a drink.

"Rikkard!" The Lacy admonished softly, but she was looking at the wine contemplatively.

"It maybe early, but I already know I'm going to need it. This is just good preparation on my part." Ser Cassel chuckled and toasted our Lord just as the door to the Lord's Solar swung open to admit Lady Luna and, unexpectedly, Lord Brandon, both carrying stacks of parchment. Lady Lyarra took one look at the sheer amount of documents and promptly took the wine jug for herself.

Lord Brandon helped the little lady set down the documents, helped her into a chair, and then waved goodbye and left, probably off to the training fields. "Hello, everyone. Today I'll be informing you on my most urgent and practical plans for the North. There are, naturally, several that I'm still working on, but I won't be showing you those until I have a more concrete idea on how to execute them. For now, let's focus on this."

"And, what exactly," Lord Rikard asked, slowly, " is the purpose of all of this?"

Lady Lunarya looks up sharply, and it was times like this that her eyes seemed impossibly wise and terribly ancient, eyes that didn't belong in such a young face when so clearly blessed by the crone herself. "It's simple. Power." All around the room, eyes widen, startled by the proclamation of the small girl in front of us. "In the next few decades, the North will face unprecedented obstacles. In order to counteract that, the only way to keep our kingdom safe is-"

"To have enough power and strength to overcome any of the challenges that we may face." Lady Lyarra interrupts, quickly catching on. "These challenges would be from the other several kingdoms?"

Lady Lunarya's face contorted oddly, like she wasn't quite sure how to answer that. "Some of them."

"I imagine," Lord Rikard continues, taking another sip of his drink, "the king will be an issue, considering the dragons."

The child smiles grimly. "I'm not so worried. It will be several years before anyone takes the rumors of dragons in the North seriously. They will not think the "Northern savages" capable of it, especially not the king who, in his madness, believes only those of Old Valyria capable of such magics. In that time, we will build our strength, and, more importantly, give them other things to focus on. The other kingdoms have long since disregarded us as something to beware of. We'll use that."

Ser Cassel leans forward, eyes narrowing, "And what other things will we give them to focus on?"

The child smirks wickedly, and I'm baffled by the comfort with which she wears such a look when I've only ever seen the child act as sweet as honey. "It's the thing that always grabs their attention. Gold. Let the tale of dragons and direwolves and greenseer and wargs be discarded as the foolish small folk trying to explain the sudden filling of our treasuries, the increase in our coffers. Let words of magic and gods be explained as the ramblings of the devotees of white trees and the heretic disbelievers of the Faith. Let them think their spies, few as they are, have all gone mad or betrayed them. Let them see what they want to, what they always do."

Lord Stark raises his eyebrow, and that is the only visible indication that he is intrigued. Meanwhile, Ser Cassel and I are busy trying to lift our jaws from the ground. I knew she was a genius, and older in experience than she seems, but I had not anticipated this level of political manipulation…

"And where will all this gold come from, sweetling? It is unfortunate, but the north is not a wealthy kingdom. We produce too little food to even sustain our people, and any extra money we have usually goes to buying it from the Reach and the Riverlands so that we do not starve in the winter. Unlike the Lannisters we do not have a fortress built on gold mines, and unlike the Targaryens of Dragonstone, precious jewels do not appear beneath our feet. Excluding House Manderly, we are not in a good position for trade, and very few of our vassel houses are able to fish under constant threat of pirates and the Ironborn raiding our shores. On top of that, we have to support many of our vassals constantly being targeted by wildlings. Dear girl, there simply is no wealth to claim," Lady Lyarra finishes, showing how capable she truly was once and for all. Unlike most noble houses, the Ladies of House Stark often assist their Lord Husbands in many of his duties, political, economic, or otherwise. When I had asked Lord Stark about it after I had first arrived, he had nearly commented that this was the way of House Stark for centuries, pride glinting in his eyes. To my knowledge, this is the only kingdom outside of the Dorne in which this is common.

By the slightly startled look that lady Luna shoots at her mother, it seems this type of information was somewhat new to her as well, but she shakes it off quickly, a smile forming on her lips again. "Oh, don't be so sure, Mother. Do you know how Hot Springs are formed? Maester Luwin?"

I straighten my spine under the sudden attention directed towards me, feeling oddly like a young acolyte in the citadel being tested by the masters again. "It is believed that they are formed near or connected to volcanoes from the underground that heat the water from below."

The little wolf's smile grows wider, looking almost medicine in her young face. "Do you happen to know what else forms around there?"

I pause, thinking, before my eyes go wide. "Precious metals and stones!"

Lady Lunarya tosses her head back, cackling. "Right you are, Maester!" She states cheerfully, her hands clapping.

"Be that as it may," Lord Rikard cuts in sharply, skeptical, "if there was gold and the like in the North, how come no one has found it yet?"

"That's simple," Lunarya states, abruptly serious again, all traces of childlike mirth gone again, "to be frank, whenever it comes to human development, war is always something that will set it back. Unfortunately, the North has been almost constantly at war. First it was with the children of the forest, and then it was with each other. By the time the Starks had taken the role as rulers of the north, had defeated the Barrow kings and Marsh Kings and all the rest, we'd been on and off at War for thousands of years. If we weren't fighting Northerners, it was the Andals or the Wildlings or the Ironborn. Our best chance at peace was when the Conquer came, and that was only because no one wanted to rebel in fear of the wrath of dragons."

The Lord and Lady turned to me, and blinking in astonishment, I nod. From all the history that I know of the North, something I explicitly studied before I took my position at Winterfell, the assessment is relatively fair, and the idea that war setback human civilizations development was not a new one in the citadel. Most would not even know where to look for gold and the like, and even if they did, there's no guarantee they would have found the funds to continue the venture in between all of the conflict. Individual houses would have a hard time finding the wealth to even search their own territories, and why would they, when there is no guarantee that they will actually gain profit to recap their losses.

"Think about it," the little Lady continues, "The gold of Casserly Rock was found ages ago, but it was found when the Casterly's picked that particular mountain due to its defensibility. It just so happened that when they were building they found the gold mines. Technically, it was luck. And Dragonstone? No one ever thought to check if it had precious stones until the Targaryen's, who, mind you, came from Old Valeriya where there was active volcanoes and an advanced society. They were most likely familiar with the fact that geographically, Dragonstone was likely to have such minerals as an island formed from volcanic eruption, something you can tell is true because-"

"The abundant amount of dragon glass!" I interrupt excitedly. Lunarya grins, nodding at me.

"So, we hire an expert prospector." The Warden of the North states, his brow furrowing, but I see a tiny gleam of hope in his eyes, and I feel much the same. This had the potential to completely turn the economy of the North around.

"Yes. But, also, I already know where they may be," Lady Luna states, smacking a map down on the table with a cheerful grin.

I lean forward, frowning. "Is this the map I've been looking for for the last 6 moons?"

"Yes, I stole it," the young Lady of the North states as though it should have been obvious.

"Luna!" Her mother gasps, her tone scolding, but the child just beams and waves cheerily.

"These three spots you marked," I wince, because maps are hard to come by and recreate, something I know I'll spend hours doing, "are all in that territory of the mountain clans."

"Considering how we let them occupy Winterfell whenever it gets too cold, I hardly think they'll be upset if you send some people to check for gold. You just need to work out a deal with them. A portion of the gold in return for their help with the labor and protection of the area. Make it into a tax agreement or something, I don't really know what the politics on that would look like," she waves it away, clearly uninterested. "Either way, the north will benefit from the agreement."

"And how sure are you that wealth can be found in these areas, Daughter?" Lady Stark asks, shrewd eyes now focused on the map. I could practically see the calculations running behind her sharp eyes.

Lunarya shrugs. "Fairly certain. It came after many hours of greenseeing. Many, many hours." She said the last part was a scowl on her face, looking rather disdainful, as though it had been an ordeal for her. "Now, moving on-"

"T-there is more, Little Pup?" Ser Cassel questions, clearly as overwhelmed by this whole turn of events as I was. Oddly, our Lord and Lady seemed to have taken the abilities of their middle child almost completely in stride. Currently, they were studying the map intently, content to just listen.

"Yes," Lunarya stated. "Just two more for now. First, I'm going to compile a list of people that I saw gaining magic in my visions. I want them tracked down and offered a position under me where they can work comfortably and learn how to wield their magic."

"Done," The lord stated, firmly, completely understanding the potential of such an asset. "What else, Pup?"

"I want you to give me some whores and orphans." The child states casually.

There is a moment of incredulous silence before chaos erupts, the Lady Lyarra scolding her child with all the power in her frail form, and the Lord snarling his questions alongside his wife. Ser Cassel drops his cup of wine, but ends up opening and drinking half a new canister. As I tried to soothe the rulers of the North, having to yell just to be heard, the youngest of us all, Lady Lunarya Stark openly laughs, seemingly enjoying the turmoil she was single handed lay causing.

Oh, Deat. I have an odd feeling, I think, watching the devious look on the child's face, that this will become commonplace in the future. I have to bite back my amusement as the girl hands me some papers that look like building plans, completely ignoring her angry parents demanding answers, mischief glinting in her eyes. At least things will be lively.

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