【A SPARKLING GOWN AND A WRINKLED GHOST】

ADALYSA WAS FREE AT LAST, from family, from duty, but not from her honor. That had never left her, as much as the courtiers whispered into being. Truly, as much as they loathed the idea of her being an unbecoming creature, they certainly loved to chatter on about it, circling her like vultures at a feast! It was enough to make even the highest of women, Queen Cersei-or perhaps now her niece, the Queen-to-be, Margaery-grumble.

Wrapped arm-in-arm with her dearest Rhea, she ventured down the sandy red halls of the Keep, trying her best not to jitter about for fear of one thinking her to be an unseemly bee. The only true 'bee' in the Keep was her friend as far as she knew, and one bumbling bee was enough to suffice for a lifetime of ramblings.

"How should we find our way around here?" Adalysa wondered aloud, clutching her journal to her chest with one arm. "It is so vast, a kingdom within a kingdom!"

In her head, she heard the echoes of her mother's chiding at her joyous exasperation. "Unsavory as over-salted trout!" She might call it, but how could she keep it hidden? For the world around her was gleaming and she basked in its hearth. She was at the world's precipice, and she did not miss the hallowed walls of the Hightower one bit.

Her eyes widened as she saw a girl in shimmering teal, whose skirt seemed to ripple as it dragged along the floor, "My lady," she exclaimed, releasing herself from Rhea's hold as she fluttered his fingers at the passing noble, "why, your gown- it floats like water!"

Any hope of propriety was slipping with each passing moment, yet Adalysa did not mull over such dire straits. She came to court to be a wondrous sensation, not to be a wallowing septa.

Luckily, the lady in teal beamed, seeming pleased at the prospect of her dress causing such intrigue. She placed a hand upon her chest, and as she approached she said, "Thank you, my lady." She laughed──it was a gracious sound, one that could fool even the most disciplined souls.

It certainly fooled Rhea, who was first to announce herself──although she was first to announce herself in everything, so perhaps it was not so much being fooled as it was pure ego, "I am Rhea Beesbury, and you are?" her words were tinged with a hint of pompousness that only a child from a vassal's vassal could have.

The question of who the lady before them was, was easy enough to guess──at least for Adalysa──for she wore teal, a color of House Velaryon. Now there were naturally other houses dedicated to the color, but what struck them from the game of chance was the fact that the woman standing and smiling at them had silver hair, that of which only a Valyrian could have. So therefore the question itself was not of her grandiose lineage, but of who she was. Not her house, but herself.

The lady replied in kind, "Laenora." there was no better way to answer, when your status was already so clear, "You are?" she gestured her head to Adalysa.

"Adalysa Hightower, my lady Laenora." She could not help bowing her head a little. There were so few Valyrians left after all──especially so few who were not traitors or pretenders. "You must tell me the name of that fabric, how it moves..." She gazed at the glimmering garment, a scant breathless at its beauty, "it is marvelous." she shook her head in enthusiasm, loose curls gently grazing her forehead.

"It's silk from Naath, repurposed from one of my grandmother's gowns." She answered, her hands lingering over the precious fabric.

"Naath?" A laugh that drew from her tongue betrayed her incredulity; she was aware that Naath had once been renowned for its mystifying silks, but for centuries the trade seemed in a near eternal slumber. How curious. "It must have cost her a fortune."

"Hardly, from what I hear," Laenora leaned in as though to tell the grandest secret of all, "it was from some prince or princess across the Jade Sea."

Rhea let out a snort, covering her face with a golden sleeve as she snickered, "Your grandmother was well loved, then."

Alysa was attempting to recover what frail reputation she had, not topple the tower completely, and so it was only natural she exclaimed, "Rhea!" before delivering a glare she could only hope was withering.

All hope shattered when her dearest of dear companions returned the look, far more menacing than she could ever imagine. "Oh, I'm only being honest-" Rhea cackled so brashly she could feel even the glare of the Keep's ghosts blowing cold along her back, "now perhaps you'll be honest and admit we're lost!"

With a scoff, and an admittedly trivial raise of her voice, she began, "We are-" someone cleared their throat and she paused, glancing around to see that there were people staring──not just ghosts. Courtiers prepared to make snide remarks behind their hands if she did not show grace. Her eyes flit away from them to her clasped hands, covered in silken gloves, clothed fingers beginning to trace gently along her palm.

I am a lady, not a child, she reminded herself, ladies have dignity.

So she straightened her back, lifted her chin, and was honest as the Maiden herself, "we are," and for she would be a fool not to ask, "could you help us?"

The corners of Laenora's eyes crinkled as an almost thoughtful grin made its way across her face. "I haven't resided in the Keep long, myself." She admitted, a tinge of amusement easing into her tone, "But I would not be welcome to having a friend or two," her gaze turned briefly to Rhea before returning to Adalysa, "to explore it with."

Before she could respond, her companion replied, "We would like that." Rhea then hooked her arm around Adalysa's, before presenting her other arm to Laenora. "Off we go then?"

The Velaryon's grin widened, and she joined arms with Rhea.

Already her first ally won.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The night stars winked Adalysa a 'hello' through her billowing white curtains as her fingers curled into the crimson velvet that kept her safely tucked within her soft bed. I wonder what I will make of myself? The thought had been festering for some time. Ever since childhood, she had pondered it, what will I become?

It was a question she assumed few asked themselves, for so many had their destinies awaiting them from birth-a fantastical lordship, or a castle of dreams. The lucky few won a kingdom, while even fewer earned their freedom.

As a girl, she had thought much of it. A wife to a kindly lord, who would spoil her rotten. She would give him an heir or two, and they would be a marriage worthy of the songs-nothing dour like Jenny of Oldstones, nor haunting like the Rains of Castamere, but simply lovely. Wasn't she deserving of that? Instead she was saddled with old Ben, who hadn't even made it through their wedding feast before his head fell into his beef-and-barley stew with little more than a snore on his lips.

His exhaustion that night was the sole reason she remained innocent. Had he been younger, or at least a little more robust──she would not allow herself to think of it.

Nothing happened. Nothing. Even though she continued to repeat it, to herself, her father, her mother and brothers, anyone who could hear and would for hope that maybe one day someone would believe her. She lay clutching her pillow tight and silently begging the Seven for reprieve from the terrors of if something had.

Adalysa rolled over, saying her farewells to the twinkling stars, for an even brighter one would greet her come morning, its gentle warmth painting her back, the calming certainty that she was safe in the grasp of the Maidenvault's walls.

However, even with her well-being assured, she could not stop staring at the tall, curved doorway that led into her bedchamber, awaiting a wrinkled ghost to stroll in and pinch her cheek.

Cool air blew through the window──frigid, shriveled knuckles grazed her spine and then disappeared, never truly there but for in her head. The old man kept returning, after all this time. Why? Was it to torment her for never being a true wife? Was it because she was not good enough, or... or... what had she done for his spirit to keep calling?

"Oh, enough of this," She muttered, gathering the fluffy pillow from beneath her head and slipping from the comfortable velvets of her bed.

Padding along freezing stones, she ventured down a dark, sordid hall without the protection of a shawl or robe to her Rhea's bedchamber──right beside hers. A pale orange glow flickered beneath her fellow lady's door, its quiet warmth passing over her toes. She knocked despite the ghost tapping at her back, urging her to rush in and curl herself within her friend's sheets until he went away, until it all went away. She was a Hightower, she would light a way for herself──she could be brave, she would be, she had to be.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

There was a loud yawn, and then she heard Rhea's exhausted voice sound through the door, "Come in," her tone tinged with the certain weariness that foretold her inability to slumber peacefully.

At the assent, Adalysa let herself into the chamber where shadows danced along the walls, broken apart only by the flames weaving into their shade. Rhea sat atop her bed, a queen among cushions of silken honey-yellows and velvety ruby-reds, a hand running through her hair as another rubbed sleep from her eyes.

"Yes?" She questioned as she stretched, brows raised. Alysa did not respond, instead standing silent in front of her, clutching a pillow like a sentimental trinket from childhood. Rhea sighed before beckoning her, arms open, "Come here."

Adalysa, a woman who in the moment felt so very much like a girl trapped, flopped gracelessly into her friend's inviting arms. Not a word she spoke in thanks, nor sound of recognition for the hearth Rhea made of herself, all for her. Even the plainest of things, she could not muster, but Rhea knew, as she knew everything.

"Alysa, are you afraid?" The lady asked as she brushed her fingers through Adalysa's curls.

She was shivering like a leaf in winter, what did dearest Rhea think?

"A little." She sniffed, hardly able to muster up enough courage to admit that she was a coward.

In a world of deceit, at least she could make herself somewhat honest in Rhea's arms, without the chill of a blade lingering against her back, ready to pierce when she was at her most useless.

At least Rhea would never leave her, as others had.

【A/N】

OKAY. So to just get this out of the way, next chapter will probably take a minute to get out. I'm moving next week (FINALLY.) so I plan to settle in before getting back into writing. Also, I've been irresponsible and started working on another fic idea. Blame Cillian Murphy.

That being said, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and join me for the next one. Feel free to let me know your thoughts and random shenanigans in the comments. <33