she was holding the matches.

the sounds of the drums seemed to momentarily disorientate into some ringing sound in her ears as her orbs widened slightly upon seeing fiona adorned in a shade of blue that made her appear as though she had returned from the depths of gulltown's harbour itself, only to find herself back within the bustling crowds of the concord - looking as though she belonged there. such events were always the place for ladies such as fiona, who carried herself with such grace in these social settings; knowing how to style off a glass too many of wine to still appear ladylike in a coquettish way, rather than a giggly, carefree way. though she much preferred the later, brianna found herself feeling just as momentarily out of place upon meeting eyes with fiona as she did before she ever did so. a usual smile, as though she was getting ready to spin circles out of this confrontation - and for a moment, brianna found herself stuck to the wooden floorboards, swearing that she would say exactly how she felt. she would do it.

she would tell fiona she did not understand how a friend could suddenly vanish without any explanation or suggestion that she would be out of the continent - she understood the graftons were fancy enough folk to often travel overseas, but a betrothal? that was not a holiday, nor a trip for pleasure; that was the indication that it were permanent. she would not have heard from her at all, if the man had lived long enough.

it was most unlike her to not find herself focused on the feeling of upset that she was unable to remove from hints on her face; hurt always showed mostly clearly in the features of brianna bracken when her lips were absent of a smile, a look that did not feel natural on her face in the lightest. or perhaps it was the slight downturn of her lips, or the way she actually broke eye contact with fiona as they approached one another - there was no rush across the hall, no loud hugs or squealing; instead, it felt as though she was telling herself not to overreact. as though she wished to protect her own feelings, rather than allow herself to appear overly sentimental and strange. the words were on the very tip of her tongue when brianna spoke, finding herself pulled into a gentle hug with a quiet whisper; she did not say anything at first, her hair becoming slightly unravelled as she embraced fiona. she did not like the fact that she was upset with her friend, but she was more upset at the fact that she doubted fiona would want to hear it.

the girl wanted one normal night - the reach was intended to be her break away from home, to forget all responsibilities and meet up again with her friends. friend. she did not want to think about that, considering fiona was back. there was no point in bringing up how she felt, was there? she unravelled herself from fiona's hands, uncharacteristically quiet as she allowed fiona to speak without being interrupted - and she felt a coward for not saying anything. she wanted to curse fiona and tell her friends did not treat one another in such a way, they did not simply leave. not without a word. not without the intention of coming back. instead she only mindlessly nodded as fiona spoke, her own head distracted with the sounds of chattering. tonight would be a good night.

"yeah, i missed you too." her words, in her own mind, sounded normal and nonchalant - and yet she did not think her tone was tainted with something else. perhaps some disappointment, or perhaps the feeling of still having something on your chest.

she let out a light scoff as fiona asked how to get back on a good side; everything was always fun and games to her. and tonight would be fun, she would not let her own feelings about something ruin the opportunity she had. "oh come off it. we're good." she assured, waving her hand casually over her shoulder as if to toss aside any issue, standing by fiona and looking upon her as the music continued. "i was just joking, you know that." it was obvious she was not entirely joking, but she did not know how best to navigate that conversation; still, whilst brianna thought she was playing it off entirely normally, her voice was laced with a strange sense of tension.

and when she was going to let it go, fiona joked; perhaps i should start by apologizing for…well, whatever it is i did to annoy you in the first place. for a moment brianna merely looked upon her, her brows narrowing in confusion as she was unable to wipe the expression across her face - one of almost disbelief, and in that moment it was clear that things were not entirely okay between the two girls. she made eye contact with fiona when she made the face; she knew she had seen it.

"i don't need an apology from you, love. you can keep it for when you need to give one to whoever next." she assured, wholly aware that people around them continued walking around and so she didn't want too many to hear them - she sounded flat, almost as though she were not fully engaged and excited in the conversation. fiona's last joke about promising to never leave again being pushing it gained no reaction from brianna, who acted as though she had brought it upon herself to serve up their drinks from the closest table. "gods know you keep them under lock anyway, rarer than a white stag they are." she purposefully poured the wine with the bottle being higher than it should be from the glass, giving her something to focus on that was not the look on fiona's voice.

the lady of gulltown accepted the wine when it was handed to her, watching the pour with unusual focus before lifting her gaze back to brianna. “my grand return ball?” she echoed lightly. “oh…half of them were clinging to tables by sunrise, and one poor lordling attempted to recite poetry to a fountain. tragic. it rejected him.” her lips curved, softer than usual, the sparkle dialed down. “you would have hated it. or loved it for how utterly ridiculous it was. far too many people trying to impress me at once. exhausting, honestly.” the grand facade in her words lacked conviction as her pinky tapped faintly against the stem of her cup, a restless tell. “i wish you’d been there.”

the confession lingered heavier than the jest preceding it. because the truth was not that she wished brianna had seen the spectacle, she wished she had been anchored by her within it. fiona had always pushed moments beyond their natural limit, stretched laughter until it thinned, encouraged admiration until it curdled into envy. she knew she did it. there was a thrill in testing how far she could go before something cracked. but afterward, when the music faded and the rooms emptied, she was left with the quiet knowledge that she had once again crossed a line no one had asked her to.

for beneath the glitter and exaggerated sighs, fiona felt everything with an intensity she rarely permitted anyone to witness. it was easier to become the spectacle than to admit when she felt small inside it. easier to laugh too loudly than to let her face betray hurt. she had built herself carefully, silk and sparkle and bravado, because silk did not bruise as visibly as skin. yet guilt had a way of seeping through even the most elaborate tapestries. she had told herself that leaving had been necessity, that silence had been protection. but silence, she knew now, could wound as cleanly as cruelty.

she took a small sip of the wine, letting the flavors settle over her tongue, then leaned closer so the music and chatter might carry her words away from curious ears. “bri.” it was soft, stripped of charm, stripped of theater. “i know you’re upset…hurt.” she did not dress it up as a question. “and you are dreadful at pretending you’re not.” her tone wasn’t sharp. if anything, it was warm with familiarity. she glanced down at her glass again before continuing, quieter still. “i should have written. properly written. i should have told you before i left. i didn’t because it felt humiliating. i was being shipped off like cargo, and i told myself if i didn’t speak it aloud, it might somehow not be real.” it had been her own doing, and that made the wound all the more deeper.

the shame of it still prickled, not the match itself, not the old man or the gilded promise of it, but how easily she had turned it into a dramatic anecdote instead of admitting she’d been frightened. she had always prided herself on turning misfortune into performance. but brianna had deserved truth, not theatrics.

her fingers brushed lightly against brianna’s wrist, tentative, deliberate. “you weren’t left behind. i left everyone, not on purpose but…there’s a difference.” she exhaled softly. “when i’m frightened, i run. or i turn it into a story. something glamorous and tragic so no one notices that i didn’t choose it.” her mouth twitched faintly. “it’s not noble. it’s just easier than admitting i didn’t have control over the circumstances. not until it was too late, really.”

she had always pushed - pushed conversations further than comfort, pushed affection into flirtation, pushed boundaries until someone else was forced to pull away first. that way, she could pretend she had meant it all along. control through excess. it was a habit she wore like perfume: sweet at first, but suffocating if one lingered too long.

she straightened a fraction, attempting a smile that wavered at its edges. “you matter to me more than some obscenely wealthy braavosi lord with golden chamber pots.” her brows lifted slightly, a faint thread of jest woven through sincerity. “more than the ships, more than the silk, more than whatever future they thought looked impressive on parchment.” her gaze held brianna’s steadily now, no glitter to hide behind.

it made it easier for him, though, to cut through the small talk and reach the heart of what he wanted to say. he gave a hollow laugh, shaking his head a little. "i think you might be the only one who does understand, truth be told," he admitted. "nobody else seems to share in my concern, at the moment." unwin peake was not a popular man, tion knew, too cunning and too brutal for his own good. he wasn't much keen on him himself, but he was still kin. "and i have never been to braavos. i have no connections there i can call upon. but you... it was no short amount of time you spent there."

he leaned a little closer, his implication unmistakeable. he was asking her for more than information, but help, eyes and ears where he had none, if she had any to offer. and when she gave a solution - a sensible, practical offer to enquire into ships logs, he breathed out a sigh of relief. "he was due to board a braavosi vessel in king's landing. the wraith. i do not know if he made it to port, though." he explained. perhaps he had fallen, or been thrown, overboard on the journey. perhaps he had never made it aboard the ship at all.

his nearness did not go unnoticed, though she did not retreat. if anything, she leaned back in her chair with deliberate ease, considering him through her lashes. “that’s true,” she said after a beat. “my time there was not brief.” fiona did little to hide the animosity in her tone, while she didn’t mind braavos, she hardly leapt for joy at the thought of the time she was shipped off. “i did see enough to learn which doors open quietly, and which stay shut unless you knock with coin or secrets.” there it was, the faintest glimmer of something sharper beneath the silk. “i won’t pretend i knew your uncle, but if i were to guess, he likely either found himself knocking on the wrong door, or is purposefully keeping his own shut.”

the name of the ship gave her pause. just a fraction, but enough to matter. “the wraith,” she repeated softly, committing it to memory. “braavosi ships keep meticulous records, or so i learned.” she set her goblet aside, fingers folding together. fiona did not want to give away too much of her mind. it was far easier being thought of as a snooty rich girl, but she figured at this rate, tion peake already had enough glimpse into who she could be. “i can ask questions. discreetly, of course. and i can listen, which is often more useful than asking at all.” she shrugged.

The kiss ended as quickly as it started, allowing but a few heartbeats of release. As brief as it was, it etched itself into his skin, his mind, his every fiber. He relished that fleeting sensation of their restraint collapsing, of the blur between their past and their present. Fiona's retreat was swift, and he thought it a practiced action as she shifted back into the measured composure a Vale lady ought to display. There was a flare of disappointment in the knight, of having been invited in briefly, only for the door to be shut again. Percival took a few steps back, needing the fresh air around him after he'd sunk into the bubble of magnetism that was Fiona's closeness. “You cannot blame a man for missing you,” he scoffed half-heartedly after she criticized his timing. The lord ran a hand through his hair, and for a second, he appeared less composed than he usually was. It took him a moment to rebuild himself into the steady, honorable Knight of Ninestars once more.

His blue eyes settled on her again, looking at her with that strange mixture of intensity and softness that seemed reserved entirely for her. “You say they’re saying enough already,” he said, his tone somewhat teasing. But there was an edge to his words, a kind of sharpness that announced he was about to challenge her. “Have you ever truly cared about that? You’ve always managed to live above gossip or bend people's perceptions to your favor. Is it truly apprehension about some whispers, or something else, Fiona?”. Was it ruin she was afraid of? It was almost ironic that she spoke of him having the potential to ruin her when she had ruined him a long time ago.

she drifted a step closer, though it wasn’t entirely deliberate, her body just seemed to follow the pull between them. “you shouldn’t miss me,” she said softly, though there was a teasing lilt buried in it. “it’s bad for your health, you know. i tend to come with all sorts of terrible consequences. gossip, sleepless nights, inconvenient feelings.” she looked up at him again, her gaze flickering with that blend of mischief and melancholy that made her difficult to decipher. “ask anyone, they’ll tell you."

the space between them felt almost fragile, too full. fiona exhaled through her nose, a near laugh. "i care more than i like to admit, about the gossip," she continued, tone a little steadier now, a slight roll of her eyes, "not because i believe it, but because i know how people love to believe it. and i’ve given them enough to work with for one lifetime." her voice softened, though it held a thread of pride still. "norbie thinks i’ll manage better this time. that i’ll be quiet, sensible. i’d hate to disappoint him before supper."

"oh, i don't think you want scandal," she said, something that looked a little like thoughtfulness crossing her expression. "it just seems to follow you, don't it? like a suitor that won't get the hint. unless you start flashing your ankles again." she glanced down at the hem of fiona's dress, as though she were trying to get a glimpse of said ankles herself. "any preference on which one? i'd go for the left, if i were you. it's always been your best ankle."

her nose wrinkled at the thought of the smell of pickled onions, but the rest of it didn't sound so bad. she hadn't been out on the sea as much since the passing of her father, not for purposes other than travelling from place to place, but she missed it. "sea air always does wonders for my hair, to be honest," she mused. "makes my curls look so much better. just dries everything out though, don't it?" she examined fiona's hair, though it seemed to have recovered from her journey. "don't think i could have dealt with the weeping widow, though. would have ended up chucking her overboard."

a derisive noise left the back of her throat. king's landing had been boring, but also stifling in a way she wasn't sure she could fully explain to fiona, nor did she have it in her to try. "the worst," she sighed. "i mean, it's all right when there's something going on and there's people there, you know? like the coronation. but nah, rest of the time it's not for me." she would not elaborate further, instead choosing to focus on lady bayswater's choice of hair cut. "that's because it was a warcrime," she smirked. "she looked like she was trying to sculpt a goose out of her fringe, fiona. i've never seen anything like it."

whatever their trials in braavos or king's landing had been, neither seemed permanently changed by it. for that alone, minty was grateful. it often felt like too much was shifting these days, and so the familiarity of fiona's company was a welcome reprieve from all that was different. though minty teased her, it was familiar and comfortable, and she felt a rush of affection for her friend as fiona wound a piece of minty's hair around her finger. "missed you too, fi," she grinned.

minty could not help but freeze a little when talk turned to brianna. it was one of the rare occasions where she did not know what to say, for she knew bri would not venture far from stonehedge, and yet revealing that fact to fiona felt too much like sharing something private, a secret she had been trusted with. eventually, she shrugged. "oh, is she not here?" she asked, airily, giving it her best shot at nonchalance. "that's a shame. been ages since we've all been together." she moved past it, hoping fiona would not choose to linger there and press her for answers she could not give.

her gaze flicked down at the hem of her dress and then back up, sly, her lips quirking. “of course the left ankle is my best, just look at it." she pointed her toe to the side dramatically. "though if you’re that keen on causing trouble, i might have to give the right one its moment, just to keep you guessing.” she smirked, twirling a curl between her fingers as if the movement held some hidden purpose, and in some way, it did, attention, amusement, a small claim of control.

“sea air does wonders for you too, you know. nothing like a bit of salt and wind to remind one that life can be both utterly miserable and exhilarating at the same time.” she waved a dismissive hand, “throwing the widow overboard sounds perfectly reasonable. norbie might agree with you there." she gave a wink.

her eyes flicked toward the crowd, then back to minty, a faint shadow of concern crossing her brow. “it’s a shame brianna isn’t here,” she murmured, voice dipping, uncharacteristically somber for a moment. “we need to meet properly soon. not just a fleeting hello among the festival lights. the three of us, together. it’s overdue.” she tilted her head, letting chesnut curls fall neatly to frame her smile, quieter than usual, more genuine this time.

his hesitation wavered in his expression, enough to soften his anger, but not quite dull it entirely. his dinner had all been forgotten, his meal rapidly cooling on the plate. "not knowing what to do when it matters is something you can change, though," he pointed out, his tone stern, but not entirely unkind. "do you not think it is perhaps time that you learned?" he spoke now in a tone he rarely used, that of an older brother, the ruling lord. he was under no illusions - he knew people laughed at him, and fiona probably had, too. nobody was laughing this time.

"no more hiding behind flippancy when you're scared. no more throwing your hands up and pretending you don't know how to be serious," his own expression was serious as the grave as he continued in the lord's voice, the one that was so unlike his own. "you can learn, fiona, and you will. the world will not be gentler to you just because you claim you don't know how to meet it properly. i will not continue to pick up the pieces in the hopes that eventually you'll stop breaking things."

he still wasn't sure if he could trust her to see it through, but he still found himself relaxing a little at the promise that she would do better. for now, it was all he could ask for. should she not see it through on her end, he did not doubt they'd be back here again, but it was not pleasant hearing her bring herself down. it was not like fiona. norbie cleared his throat a little, shaking his head. "well, that just isn't true, fiona. you can be useful. you can..." he trailed off then, because it hit him then that he wasn't exactly sure what it was she could do that would be of use to him. perhaps it would have been better not to try and reassure her. he cleared his throat, awkwardly. "well... yes."

her gaze flicked to him, quick and almost wary, as though she feared he wouldn’t believe her. “though i can’t change everything about myself, norbie. i’ll always laugh when i shouldn’t, and say things i don’t mean, and perhaps get carried away when there’s an audience.” she gave a small, helpless shrug. “but i can try to keep my head down when it matters. i can try not to make more work for you.”

for a moment, she looked every bit the girl she had been years ago, before she’d learned to hide behind glitter and sharp edges. “you deserve that much from me,” she admitted quietly, fingers knotting in her skirts.

They kept walking, and still she hadn’t let go of his arm. Neither did he. His arm remained steady beneath hers, and his free hand moved to rest atop hers. The Commander of the Queensguard glanced her way when she questioned whether he tired or not, of how he viewed things, how he experienced them. “No,” he answered plainly, honestly. “I do not tire of the life I’ve fought to have”. Perhaps it was true that everything turned out to be an ordeal or a trial of some kind, but he was used to it. He welcomed it. He took pride in the sacrifice, in the effort, and what it earned him. “The reward is sweeter. Wouldn't you agree?”.

her hand shifted slightly within his grasp, her thumb brushing once over his glove before stilling again. “the reward best be worth the fight,” she echoed, quieter this time, eyes fixed ahead for a beat before flicking up to meet his. and maybe she wasn’t just talking about him, or her, or court. maybe it was everything, grief and gossip, love that hadn’t lasted, longing that hadn’t gone. she had spent so long trying to wrestle something lovely from the mess of things. had it ever been enough?

his words gave her pause, pulled something from her that wasn’t so carefully stitched together. she wasn’t always sure who she was anymore, there were too many versions of her scattered across too many rooms. the one he saw, though, the one he remembered, that was a softer girl, younger, and naive. that was the girl she might’ve been, before, perhaps nestled somewhere in her still yet.. “i might be,” she said again, gentler now.

fiona, too, warranted closer examination, and so as he took the seat she offered, ringed fingers folding neatly together and coming to rest in his lap, did he turn his attention to her. his presence must have been unexpected - as far as he could recall, they had never once spoke. still, she was neither cowed nor indifferent to his presence here today. if nothing else, she seemed cooperative, which was a blessing in itself.

"i know you must have had plenty to contend with while you were there," he made no attempt to conceal the fact that he had heard tell of her betrothal, and the death of her intended. "and i would first like to extend my condolences to you." he was never a man to skip courtesies, no matter how much else he had on his mind. it would not be said that tion peake was a man who could not handle himself when pressure was applied. "but i am hoping you might have some information on the whereabouts of my uncle, ser unwin peake. he was due to return from a business trip in braavos some weeks ago, only there is no trace of him. he would have left around the time new valyria hosted the realms for king jaehaerys' conversation."

it was a long time to go without word from kin. that, at least, warranted some explanation. "it is not uncommon for communication between us to be sparse when he is away from the reach." it was all he would offer, though if she was reading between the lines, she might pick up on the fact there was strain between uncle and nephew. "it is why i have not questioned his silence until now. but my ravens have returned with letters unopened. i am sure you can understand my suspicions."

she blinked once, slowly, at the mention of her betrothal, and though her lips parted as if to answer, it was only a breath that escaped. a second passed before she inclined her head slightly. “you’re kind to say so, lord peake.” the thanks was soft, and though her voice was smooth, the note it rang on was faintly hollow. practiced. fiona didn’t particularly like speaking of him, dead men had a way of taking the air from a room, even when they’d barely shared a life in it.

but the mention of a missing uncle, one who might have moved through the same corridors she had walked, breathed the same foreign air, well, that brought a flicker of animation to her gaze. she folded one leg over the other, hands resting in her lap now, but the energy behind her movements had sharpened. “i’m sorry to hear it,” she said sincerely. “braavos is no small place to lose someone in. i understand your concern.”

The harbor’s lanternlight danced across the water at their side, and as they walked, they moved between spaces of light and spaces of shade. “I did hear about your former betrothed,” he mused, his mouth curving into a dry smile. “A shame, truly. We are becoming two veterans of failed arrangements”. Fate had mocked him many more times than it had her, of course. Yet the jest hovered between them. Despite the nonchalance of his voice, it couldn't quite mask what still clung to him. To them. The memory of their own near-match, the thought of those nights she allowed him into her bed, and that something keeping them tethered that neither of them dared name.

she smiled faintly, though it faded as she added, “and my poor betrothed left me nothing but a dramatic death and a very awkward ship ride home. i think they were afraid i’d make a scene. which is insulting, really. i save my scenes for special occasions.” however, his next words quieted her, if only for a moment. her gaze slipped to the water, thoughtful, before she turned back to him.

“indeed,” she agreed, her voice carrying that lilting braavosi cadence not yet softened the time spent in westeros. “i’ve attended many feasts, but there’s something about the air in gulltown that makes the wine sweeter and the music linger longer in your bones.” she found the vale easier to navigate than the reach. she had heard certain things of queen ravella, but zialla found that she preferred the blunt approach of the valemen.

she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of fiona yet. norbie had mentioned her in passing, mostly with a touch of frustration, as brothers often did. zia had no wish to make things more difficult for him, and so she had resolved to treat fiona with the same grace she would show any lady that crossed her path. she knew that her reputation frequently preceded her, and she also knew the whispers were not kind.

“i’ve been here some moons now,” she continued, setting her goblet gently on the table. “long enough to feel familiar with the rhythm of the place. i must have been here as long as you have been in braavos, lady grafton.” she glanced toward the high windows, where the candlelight flickered faintly against the dark glass. “as you might have felt yourself, then braavos taught me to move quickly, but spending time with norbie in gulltown has reminded me how to be still. i think i needed that.”

there was a bit of cautiousness behind her soft smile. she had learned that pretty words could be like a honeyed trap. she was still learning to trust again. “i do not suspect i will return home to braavos again, lady grafton, not permanently at least. but i will not take advantage of your brother's hospitality indefinitely.” zia's plan was still to establish herself in westeros. to be near her daughter, to make sure that years of education were not wasted. she was not sure what the future held for her, but she felt sure that it was not in braavos.

she paused for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "braavos, though." her tone shifted, becoming a touch more reflective. "it taught me a great deal, yes. though i’d be lying if i said it was all sunshine and silk." the smile faded for just a second, a flicker of something curious in her gaze before she masked it again with an easy laugh. "the city never quite lets you go, you know? but you learn to carry the weight of it, and in a way, it becomes part of you."

fiona’s eyes glinted as she glanced toward the windows, where the last embers of the night’s light seemed to slip away beyond the horizon. "it is a shame my stay was cut so short, but i suppose that’s the way of things sometimes. the most unexpected things happen. but we all carry on, don’t we?" she leaned back against the table, her fingers still idly twisting her goblet.

her brow lifted ever so slightly, a glint of something unreadable in her eyes as she set her goblet down with a soft clink. the sound echoed faintly in the quiet of the hall. “you must be quite close with my brother,” she said, her tone mild but unmistakably pointed, “to call him norbie.” the corner of her mouth curved, though whether it was amusement or challenge behind the smile was difficult to tell. “most stick with lord grafton until they’ve been sufficiently vetted. or sufficiently scolded.”

she snorted at fiona's description of her trials and tribulations, as though a long boat ride was the very worst a woman could go through. "at least you got to get away for a bit, yeah? that's always nice. honestly, last few months i'd have given anything to fuck off to braavos." she had sent many long, rambling letters to fiona about being stuck in king's landing.

"besides, you're already rich," she dismissed fiona's complaint with a wave of her hand. "do you need to be richer, really? we already have enough trouble keeping you humble." they'd reached a railing that overlooked the ocean, and minty paused there, leaning against the railing and nudging fiona with her elbow, affectionately. "i wouldn't mock you," she said, mock-horrified fiona would suggest such a thing. "i'd mock him, obviously. you, i'd toast to."

“tragically glamorous,” she repeated, rolling her eyes, though her smile betrayed her. “you make it sound like i planned the whole thing. please, if i wanted scandal, i’d have picked someone far more interesting to off.” she flicked her fingers through the air, as if batting away the thought, then draped herself dramatically against minty’s side. “no offense to the dearly departed, of course. may he rest in tedious, wealthy peace. you can tell anyone who asked he saw my ankle and immediately keeled over from such an overwhelming feeling of lust.”

the festival swelled below them in a crescendo of color and sound, jugglers tossing flame into the sky, children shrieking with delight, the clang of bells from the harbor. fiona watched it all for a moment, her eyes half-lidded against the lanternlight.

the noise that escaped her now was halfway between a scoff and a laugh, and she tilted her head just enough to eye minty. “you say that now, but you didn’t have to share a cabin with some rich widow who cried every night over her dead husband and smelled like pickled onions. and that was before the storm hit.” she gave an exaggerated shiver, wrapping an arm around herself like the memory alone had chilled her. “if you’d seen the state of my hair when we finally made port, you’d never wish such a fate on anyone.”

she sighed, shoulders softening, her tone warming. “but gods, i missed this. us.” her fingers curled just a little tighter around minty’s arm as they strolled, skirts brushing, the city glittering around them like something pulled from a dream. “i got your letters. read them twice, mostly because i liked the way you described lady bywater’s new hairstyle like it was a war crime. i swear, it almost made up for the fish stew. i suppose king's landing was dreadfully boring?"

she turned to face her fully then, catching a strand of minty's hair between her fingers like she might twirl it into memory. “anyways, you’d better not have gotten too comfortable without me,” fiona said, lifting a brow. “because i fully intend to make your life difficult again. starting with tonight.”

"braavos changes everyone," he said, dismissively. a great, stinking city overrun by whores and assassins. it was impossible to wade hip-deep in such filth and not be corrupted by it, even for one such as fiona, who was hardly pure as the driven snow to begin with. "question is how much you let it, and how much you left behind." if it had not changed her at all, she was either remarkably resilient, or remarkably shallow. perhaps both.

her hand adjusted her curls, and he let his gaze follow the motion, almost lazily. his eyes remained only long enough to indulge her, to let her know he had noted her intent, and then, he let them drift elsewhere.

"i did wonder at the purpose behind this little gathering," he said, as though this was an intimate soiree and not a bustling festival. if elys was impressed by the festivities, his face showed little of it beyond his previous polite words. "now i see the truth of it. a ruse for you to make your grand reappearance." he was teasing, though his words were utterly deadpan. "you are lucky your brother is so generous." if it was his sister, he'd have her shipped off to a sept for the embarrassment, but norbie grafton was not known to be a man of strength. her brother's weakness suited elys well. he'd hate to see her in a septa's robe.

"that's a question, isn't it?" she said, her tone honeyed but sharp. "how much of me do you think has changed?" she let the words hang between them, an invitation for him to dig deeper, should he wish it. in reality, it had changed her more than she was willing to face, just yet. it was far easier to pretend otherwise.

she watched him, enjoying this little game of theirs, the ebb and flow of their dance, he might think he was controlling it, but fiona knew the subtlety of power, the delicate balance between taking and giving, and she truly thought she was the more clever of the two, past mistakes aside.

at his comment about her brother, fiona let out a soft laugh. "oh, yes. norbie is generous," she stated, though she would hardly think this was generosity. the grafton's wealth was no secret, it was merely...an event. fiona did not quite catch onto his double meaning. she glanced past him for a moment, catching the edges of the festivity around them, before her gaze and attention returned back to the conversation before her.

brianna bracken stood at the entrance to the highgarden ballroom, her gaze sweeping over the sea of finely dressed lords and ladies swirling around the grand hall. the music floated through the air, a soft waltz that seemed too elegant for her tastes. her eyes fell to a woman across the room, standing near a cluster of people, her golden hair catching the light just so. brianna’s heart lurched painfully in her chest. she hadn’t seen fiona grafton in what felt like an eternity, not since the news had come that fiona was leaving for braavos.

she had never imagined fiona would just disappear without so much as a word, without so much as a glance back.

the sudden departure had confused her, unsettled her, left her feeling like a fool. why had she gone? why had no one told her? the amount of times people had asked her what had happened with fiona, and she was unable to answer - what sort of fool did she appear as?

she had heard the rumours, of course. everyone had. fiona grafton’s grand return to gulltown, the ball of all balls, the one everyone seemed to talk about for days after. all of brianna’s other friends had attended, their names slipping casually from the lips of gossiping lords and ladies, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. but there she was, stuck at stone hedge, playing the dutiful daughter, while ronan had his hands full at riverrun, as always. and so, brianna had missed it. bloody typical - everyone else got to waltz around in fancy gowns, sip wine, and gossip, and there she was...

stuck holding down the fort at stone hedge like a servant.

there, standing near the edge of the ballroom, was fiona grafton. brianna froze, her breath catching in her throat. the sight of her brought a rush of emotions she wasn’t quite ready to face. fiona was just as radiant as ever—seemingly smaller than usual, with the same dark, glossy hair that cascaded in waves down her back. the gown she wore shimmered like starlight, making her seem almost ethereal. she looked every bit the noblewoman, the one who had been gone so long, the one whose marriage had been the subject of far too many rumours. she wanted to boot her up the arse.

curled tresses gleamed under the warm lights, her gown a deep shade of blue that caught the eye of every passerby. she had traveled to highgarden for such an event, but she felt almost as if she didn’t belong here anymore, not after everything that had happened, not after the silence she’d left behind.

and then, as though fate had nudged her, there was brianna, standing at the entrance, her sharp gaze scanning the room. fiona couldn’t help the surge of relief that came with the sight of her, despite the turbulent mix of emotions that followed.

fiona’s lips curled into a wry smile, but there was a flicker of something else behind her eyes, something just a little too raw to hide. she had been gone for only a short time, but the silence had stretched on far longer. she hadn't even told brianna why she'd left, not really. no one knew. and she couldn't bring herself to say it aloud, the hurried departure, the embarrassment of a betrothal that ended before it had begun, the shame of not even getting the chance to explain it all.

still, she raised an eyebrow, her tone flippant as always. "well, of course you’d remember me. who could forget someone as unforgettable as myself?" she said, her voice light and teasing, but the faint hesitation was there, buried just beneath the surface.

fiona’s hand found its way to brianna’s arm, and before she could stop herself, she pulled her into a tight, unspoken hug. a quick, fleeting embrace that lasted just long enough to convey everything she hadn’t been able to say.

“i missed you,” fiona whispered softly against her ear, the words spoken with an honesty she hadn’t expected to find in herself. she quickly pulled back, just as quickly as she’d closed the distance between them, flashing a teasing smile again as she smoothed her gown.

“so,” she said with a raised brow, the teasing lilt back in her voice, “how does one get back on their favorite bracken’s good side? i can’t imagine the competition is light there.”

her eyes flicked to brianna’s face, watching for any sign of a reaction before she continued, her tone light but with just a hint of warmth. “perhaps i should start by apologizing for...well, whatever it is i did to annoy you in the first place. or, i could offer to let you win a round of cards sometime.” she gave brianna a mischievous smile, knowing that offering to lose a game of cards was quite the offer from one as competitive as she.

There had been some stolen glances exchanged between them through the evening. Eventually, Percival finally found her away from the thick of the crowd, half-lit by the glow of festival lanterns, half-shadowed by the deepening night. The revelry of Gulltown pulsed behind him, a symphony of music and voices accompanied by the constant crash of waves against the harbor. “Lady Fiona Grafton has tired of being the center of attention already? Please tell me Braavos did not change you that much,” the Knight of Ninestars said as he approached with slow, casual steps.

Percival glanced over his shoulder, seeing the crowd gathered at the heart of the festival, and then looked back at the Grafton lady. He appreciated this quieter area, the privacy they may have away from everyone else. “Welcome home, Fiona,” he said after a heartbeat, his tone quieter now. There had been much left unspoken before she left, and even with her here now, right before him, Percy could feel the weight of it more clearly.

the harbor stretched out behind them, black water catching bits of gold from the lanterns strung above. gulltown's festival buzzed in the distance, all laughter and drunken song, but here, here it was quieter, and she felt it like a hand around her wrist.

“i’m only pacing myself,” she answered lightly, when he teased her about tiring of the crowd. her voice was smooth, but there was a tension beneath it, like a drawn string. “i wouldn’t want anyone to think braavos had made me boring.”

at his words, something in her chest pulled tight, and for a moment, she simply stared at him, the weight of everything unspoken stretching between them like a taut thread. gods, he hadn't changed. or maybe he had, just enough that it hurt.

“but i have not so much changed,” she said, voice tilting lazy and sharp, “as... forcibly returned.” the words were a jest, but just barely. everyone knew the story, or thought they did. how her braavosi betrothed had so suddenly taken ill. how the family she had been meant to join had packed her off with more speed than grace, as if even the thought of her lingering soured the air.