Work Text:
Alle stifled a sigh as she was herded into the fitting room.
Funny how it always worked out. She was the extra child, the ignored child, the forgotten child, until the family decided she wasn't, and then she would be again until she caught on their next little whim.
"Princess," one of the maidservants said, bowing her head. Alle nodded and took position, arms stretched out by her sides, ready to be pinned up and strangled by fabric that would twist and turn until it made something unrecognisable of her. Perhaps Alle could filch a pin, a needle, something small and sharp. "The head seamstress is unfortunately unavailable today," the maidservant continued, head still bowed, not looking at Alle. Alle couldn't find it in herself to hold back her eye-roll. Of course their seamstress wasn't available on the very day her fitting had been planned. What a coincidence.
"Alright," Alle said, and saw the girl flinch at her tone. "So who's doing my fitting?"
The maidservant, if possible, bowed her head even lower. "She's… she's a new hire, your highness."
Alle sighed. Of course. Of course. Alle wondered what the point of this farce was. She could just as well simply not attend the summer solstice ball. There was no point to her attendance. "Very well," Alle said, because there was nothing else to say. A new hire may even be a good thing for Alle. Shakier fingers, less certain folds and pins, an easier chance of a pin falling unbidden into Alle's grasp and tucked away. "Let her in," she said.
The girl nodded, and rushed over to open the doors.
The woman that shuffled through reminded Alle somewhat of a hapless hamster.
Her eyes were wide, her hair falling about her in light waves, and something in the manner she clutched her skirt made her appear nervous in a way that was at sharp odds with the smile on her face. She bowed. "Princess Alle."
Alle's arms faltered from their position in the air. She had never heard one of the castle staff say her name before. Alle cleared her throat. "And you are?"
"Rutile, your highness," said the seamstress with another bow. "I'm the one who will be doing your fitting."
Alle turned her head with a short nod. "Hm," she said, not looking at her anymore.
"I understand you may have reservations about my abilities," Rutile continued, and Alle heard the soft tap of her walking closer, "but I assure you, my work is far from subpar."
"Hm," said Alle again.
Rutile seemed to take this as agreement enough because she busied herself then with the fall and drape of fabric, arranging lengths of it in artful strips across Alle's body, securing her work with confidently placed pins. She wasn't nearly as nervous as Alle had expected her to be.
Rutile stepped back to survey her work, then tilted her head. "Hm. Princess Alle."
Alle looked at Rutile curiously.
Rutile started forwards with her hands out, then hesitated. "May I, ah… your hair, could I…?"
Alle made a small assenting motion with her chin, still not entirely sure what Rutile wanted.
Rutile stepped forwards again, and more noticeably into Alle's space this time, face-to-face as they were, and her eyes were such a warm brown this close, focused intently on Alle but never quite looking her in the eye. Her fingers were warm where they brushed against Alle's face, and Alle catalogued the burn of her touch away to examine later. Alle's hair— admittedly perhaps a bit unkempt, certainly not as neatly styled as her stepsisters' tended to be— was swept up and out of her face. Rutile only paused momentarily before loosening a couple pins from her own hair to hold up Alle's. Rutile's hair tumbled looser around her face. It softened her, somehow.
When Rutile stepped back, her eyes seemed even wider than before, and her mouth had parted softly. Alle raised an eyebrow. Rutile cleared her throat and glanced quickly at the ground. Alle wondered if she was simply imagining the coat of rose that dusted her cheeks. She would make a pretty painting, Alle thought. Honey-golden and warm tones and rosy hues.
"If I may, your highness, I would suggest you wear your hair up for the ball," Rutile said after a brief silence. "It rather suits… the dress."
Alle bit down on her tongue to swallow back a bemused smile and nodded. "Your advice will be taken into consideration," she said.
If possible, Rutile's cheeks flared brighter. She cleared her throat. "I'll be taking the final measurements now," she said, and Alle nodded again.
This time, when Rutile moved around Alle, she felt it, the warmth of her body heat so close to her own, her fingertips drifting across exposed patches of skin, feather-light, her hair swaying forth now that it had tumbled freer from its confines, her hands sure on the fabric, on the measuring tape, the quick scratch of pencil on paper. Alle couldn't help but notice how well the iridescent teal of the dress complemented Rutile as her hands fluttered across the bare bones of the dress. She would likely look stunning in it, befitting of royalty itself. She had the hair to match, Alle supposed. She'd make a rather lovely princess.
Alle caught a pin as it fell to the ground, turned it swiftly so it was tucked loosely but securely within her palm. She would have to be careful not to pierce herself. When she looked at Rutile, her eyes were lingering on the guilty hand. Alle wondered if she would ask for it.
Rutile met Alle's eyes. She smiled. She didn't say a word about the filched pin, not even when Alle took another.
"This dress will be stunning on you, Princess Alle," Rutile said conversationally as she undraped the fabric from around Alle. "Has the mask been discussed with you yet?"
Alle shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Why, did you have something in mind?"
Rutile smiled shyly as she tilted her head. "I would suggest something butterfly-themed," she said. "I think you would make a lovely blue swallowtail."
Alle raised her eyebrows, and she failed to completely bite away the smile that rose to her lips. "Is that so?" she said, but it didn't sound much like a question.
Rutile, she thought, could maybe, just maybe, be just like Alle.