Ostara stretched her arms high above her head and yawned. She had slept amazingly. It felt good being back in her bed. And with the morning sun shining through her window, she felt a hint of magic lurking in the day.
Her stomach dropped however when she remembered who was in the bedroom opposite hers. She rolled over and buried her face in her silk pillow. A painful groan left her mouth as she mumbled into the pillow. What was the time? She wondered.
Her feet hit the wooden floorboards and she slipped her silk night robe over her nightgown. She glanced over at the clock beside her mirror.
"Shit!" she yelled. It was ten in the morning. She was planning to wake at 8.
She exited her room and to her horror, but not surprise, Tom's door was open, but he was not inside.
The smell of bacon tickled her nose as she followed it down the stairs.
Ostara gawked. In front of her, Tom was sizzling the bacon in a small fry pan, whilst her father squeezed oranges into a jug. They were laughing together and smiling.
Tom looked perfect, as always. Freshly pressed pants and a black sweater. Something about the site of Tom Riddle cooking breakfast in her kitchen (looking the way he did) resulted in a funny fluttering sensation in her stomach.
"Good afternoon Ostara," her father joked.
"Very funny." She rolled her eyes.
"And what's put you in such a sour mood on such a sweet day?" Tom asked, flipping a piece of bacon.
"The welcome home dinner tonight. Can we not just cancel it father?" Star asked.
"Absolutely not." He threw an Orange rind into the bin. "You've been away for month! There are still people in this small village who have missed you."
"He's right Ostara," Tom said. "It would be impolite to cancel."
Her blood boiled. Who did Tom Riddle think he was? Her father's reply on perpetuated her anger. "And Mr Arya has not even responded. I doubt he will even be in attendance."
Bold of her father to assume Sebastian was the person she was dreading seeing.
"But sit Ostara." Her father gestured to the breakfast table.
Tom transferred the sizzling bacon on to a plate and placed it on the table next to the eggs and orange juice. He took a place beside Ostara at the table. "I would love to see the castle whilst I'm here," he said, breaking the yolk of an egg.
Rumplestiltkin's face turned cold. "No!"
Tom looked at him with a funny expression. "I'm sorry Sir."
Her father sighed. "I don't mean to be like this my boy. The castle is not the safest place for young girls like Ostara. I do not want her going."
"Have you yourself not accompanied her there in the past? What difference would it be if I'm the one escorting her?" Tom asked.
Ostara kicked his leg underneath the table.
He held in a yelp.
Rumplestiltskin choked on his words. "Well-I-erm."
"I am magic like yourself," Tom etched on.
Ostara thought she was going to witness the death of Tom Riddle in her kitchen...but she didn't.
Her father looked at Tom, curiously, with a raised brow. "I will take it into consideration."
Ostara's blood began to grow hot. "Are you serious?" she gawked. "I am almost eighteen years old! And you still think I require a man to escort me around our kingdom!" She stood from the table, rattling the plates and cutlery. "You treat me like I'm some child who needs sheltering from monsters!"
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The Price of Gold | tom riddle
Fanfiction"𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙚?" "𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙒𝙝𝙤'𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙢𝙜 𝙨𝙪𝙣. 𝘼 𝙙𝙚𝙗𝙩 𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙪𝙣." What if the sweet miller's daughter did not guess the name...