|A Case of Duality|
|Summary:||Saffron comes face to face with the Lady Ghost.|
|Date:||28 May 2012|
|Related Logs:||A Favor from the Lady Ghost and The Furpelt Cloak|
|The Tordane Tower, Stonebridge|
|May 28, 289|
"And she looked upon herself in the mirror,
and no longer recognized her reflection."
It was late. Long ago, the last of her belongings had been unpacked and neatly put away in what most believed would be their long-term home. All of her household had gone to bed, even if their numbers were not as impressive as those of the tower. Her loyal guards had been unhappy with their relocation, for both in their own way had become accustomed to the Roost; Mistress Morla Fielding, however, was of the same demeanor no matter where her charge was kept.
Saffron Banefort stood before the bed that would from now and until the betrothal was set would be hers. It was dressed simply, though a kind of simplicity that only good coin could buy. Resting there, fat and unknown, was a package. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied tight with twine. If this was a proper story, she would say that the fair maiden knew not where it came, but that was a lie not even Saffron could tell herself. She had asked for it, very carefully and very quietly, and it had come a long distance to her. At first, she wanted it here because it was something familiar. But now, she wanted it here because she needed it.
Cautiously, she began to unwrap the parcel. Her movements were meticulous and precise — first the string and then the paper, and each wrapping was carefully folded and placed aside. Now, lying there naked on her bedclothes, was a cloak of fine dark wool. It was as grey as the Banefort crest, but lacked the fiery accents. It had been her grandmothers they say, Lord Erik Banefort's own mother. Somehow, perhaps because Erik's younger brother was their mother's favored son, it had been gifted to Bernard. Now, it had been gifted to his daughter.
She delicately grasped it by the shoulders, and pulled it out to its full length. It was a lovely thing with a dark exterior that offset the pristine white interior. Both layers were of good quality textile, but where the dark layer was wool, the inner layer was more like silk.
She swirled it around her shoulders, pulling the heavy hook broach together in front of her collar bones. Her and her grandmother had been of equal heights, so for once something fell at the proper length and did not overwhelm nor suffocate her in its drape. She stood before the heavily-framed mirror, turning slowly and arcing her head around to admire herself in the dark garment. As she turned, she thought…
I could run away in this…
She looked over her shoulder to watch how it draped down her back; a small breeze that came in from the open windows made the dark fabric ripple.
No… I can't…
Slowly, she turned around to face herself once more. She rubbed the edge of the cloak between her fingers, admiring the tough stitching and perfect edge. It looked as if the cloak had never needed to be mended, or if it had, it had been done by masterful hands. She pulled a side of the cloak's cape wide, giving herself the illusion of having a broad, white-bellied wing.
I could fly away in this…
Then she let the wing fall, and the cloak swooped closed around her once more.
No… I can't…
She sighed, unclasping the hook once more so she could sweep the cloak from her shoulders. As she did, it turned inside out, and the white silken layer shone like moonlight in the nighttime dim. As she further admired the garment, a thought came to her. With a sweeping gesture, she swirled the cloak around her once more, this time with the dark layer inside. She turned to face the mirror once more, staring into her own reflection that was now swathed in white.
Who are you?
The question, while spoken by her own thoughts, vexed her.
This is absurd, you know who you are…
In frustration, she began to reach for the hook once more to stop playing this silly game. But, the moment her fingertips touched the cool metal, the wind breathed another breath through the open windows, and this time snuffed out every single candle in her bedchambers. Darkness collapsed over the room, causing only the moonlight to now shine in. She stood luminous before the mirror.
Fingers that were hers but not hers reached for the edges of the hood, pulling it deep over her strawberry-red hair. The shadows fell thick over her upper face. She looked upon herself then, standing there in the reflection, glowing like the moon. A thought came to her then, or had it always been there, waiting to whisper over the din?
I know who you are… Her thoughts whispered.
"I am Lady Ghost."