1 AM

Rowena had intended to sleep. The importance of sleep, along with that of many other things, had been drilled into her throughout her short life. But this first break back home, the still-lingering rush from the Yule Ball, and the prospect of Christmas presents combined? That and the pile of books in her bedroom had turned going to bed into curling up and reading for hours.

And now she was getting hungry. Her stomach had even made some rather unladylike noises that she tried not to be familiar with. This entire train of events had led her down to the kitchen, where she stared uncertainly at various sorts of food. Until she saw the cake.

It had been quite good cake, the leftovers of what her Mum had made for Father's birthday. Not quite as good as what her grandmother or Aunt Teagan made, but still tasty cake. So far as Rowena was concerned, if something wasn't sweet and delicious, it couldn't be counted as cake.

Even in the dark, she didn't have too much trouble finding a plate, or cutting herself a more than ample slice with no more than the small clank of silverware against each other for noise. Waking someone else up would just be trouble, even if she hadn't really done anything wrong. Sort of, well, she wasn't supposed to be out of her bedroom this late, but cake. And books.

And she almost made it, too. The cake was carefully displayed on a plate, and she held it out as she started back to her room.

Whatever it was she tripped over, she didn't see it. There was just the sudden tumble forward, the crash of her and the smaller, sharper crash of the plate. Then whipped cream flying everywhere, with a dab of it ending up on her nose. And then there was the crack of Krix appearing suddenly behind her.

Oops.

The crash from the hall was enough to stir Tarron, who was asleep at 1am (naturally). He glanced at Aisling and then swung his legs out from the bed, standing up. His wand was kept on the bedside table; he grabbed it and his dressing gown, shrugging the robe on in his drowsy state, and dropping his wand into its pocket. His own nightclothes were thoroughly sensible, the gown worn over a simple pair of cloth trousers. Slippers that he automatically shoved onto his feet completed the look; despite the chill, he rarely bothered with the cap.

He drew his wand and lit the end, walking into the hall cautiously. The years since the War were many, but there was still a chill to any crash in the middle of the night that was almost instinctual. Tarron made his way down the hall, scowl darkening -

Squish. He looked down abruptly as he stepped in something both soft and slick, realizing after a moment's confusion that it was...whipped cream? He looked up, brows furrowed, and spotted the rest of the mess...and the small redhead behind it.

Despite his scowl remaining, he did relax a bit. Krix was already cleaning up, but he walked over, carefully navigating the pieces of cake til he stood before her.

"Are you injured?" He asked his daughter, holding out a hand.

Poor Krix. Rowena just stood there, momentarily shocked, as their House Elf started in on the mess. Getting Krix out in the middle of the night caused a twinge of guilt, not helped by the droop to the House Elf's ears at the sounds of someone approaching.

It was Father. Rowena looked down at her feet, shuffled them a little. There was a dab of whipped cream at the end of her toes as well. She was going to get so much detention-wait, not at school, so much something for this. At least it wasn't Mum up, even if Father would be more disappointed.

Why couldn't it have been Sophia? "No, sir." She forced herself to look up at him, eyes catching a glimpse of a shattered bit of plate caught in the fabric of her dress. Then she took his hand, making sure to step around the whipped cream. And more little bits of plate that Krix hadn't made it to yet.

"Did I awaken anyone else?" Mum was horrible at sleeping.

Tarron largely ignored Krix, as he usually did. The elf was doing her job, and save moving out of the way a bit as the elf cleaned the whipped cream from the otherwise polished floorboards, he did little to acknowledge her presence. She was, as usual, merely background noise.

Instead he focused on his daughter, frowning at her in his rather typical disapproving manner - clearly not angry, per say, but certainly not pleased. Tarron was the sort of man who believed very strongly in rules and schedules; and for girls the age of his daughters, bed time was a rule, not a suggestion. Still -

"Just your Mother," he said, though he suspected Aisling had since gone back to sleep - her use of sleeping draughts had meant that she'd awoken but hadn't seemed lucid. "If Sophia is awake, she has not shown it."

He did glance at Krix, then, as the elf darted forward and quickly removed the glass from Rowena's slippers. "What were you doing out of bed?"

There was something about that look that made Rowena wilt. Her father was not someone she wished to disappoint, even over cake. "I could not sleep. And I was reading, and then I was hungry, so I...." She stared down at her feet again, just as her stomach gurgled a little to emphasize the point.

"It wasn't all of the cake. I just took one piece." It sounded worse after she'd said it. She shouldn't have been up, and that was the measure of it.

"I am sorry, Father. It's hard to not be excited, being home." Maybe if she stared at the floor long enough she'd melt into it. Probably not.

Tarron restrained a sigh, aware it would not help in such a siduation. Technically - yes, she should not have been out of bed, though gods knew he and Aisling were guilty of plenty of late nights themselves. Still, if one needed food, there were far more proper ways to aquire it -

"While it does not become a lady to eat more than she needs to," he said, looking at Krix, "Should such a need arise again, do ring for Krix." It was the wizarding way of doing things...and involved far less broken glass, usually.

He smiled, his faint and quick smile reassuring - a bolt of fatherly warmth where otherwise he was frosty. "Do not be sorry, but do endeavor to not do this in the future, mm?" He looked pointedly at the shards of glass Krix was preparing to repair.

"Of course!" Rowena found herself overcome with grateful relief, and lunged forward to wrap her arms around him. She had the most wonderful father.

After a moment she released her grip, looked up, and then stepped back. "I'll go right up to bed! Goodnight, Father." There was just a little bit of a bounce in her step as she walked away, and she stopped for a moment to give Krix an apologetic look. She'd think of something to make it up to the House Elf in the morning.

For now she needed sleep.

End