The Valkyrie’s Ghost

Author's note: Here is part 3. The same warnings to savvy readers.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, settings, and events are creations of the author's imagination.

It's a romance, but a slow one--glacial, even. If you're here for steamy scenes, you'll find better stories elsewhere that will frustrate you less. This one takes its time.

Also, this is a beta version. In the last part crowned as the world's worst grammarian. So please don't waste your time pointing out verb tenses or dangling participles. If I understood what those were, I wouldn't have made the mistake in the first place. If the community finds the story interesting, I will seek the services of an editor. Let's see if it is worth their time.

On a serious note: This part introduces a teen character that was assault and in search of someone who understands her, finds not one, but two people who are survivors of childhood assaults. If you are a survivor of assault, I hope I have treated the scene with the respect I intended. If there is ANY thing that doesn't feel right, please feel free to DM. To the predators of the world. You suck rotten broccoli! I have a behavioral therapist who has read the scene and feel it is authentic.

I hope you enjoy the journey.

PhD.

Chapter 11

Thursday, December 11th

Élan Atelier

3120 Madison Avenue East

Seattle, WA

Riley--------------

The new Cadillac Escalade's 6.2L Supercharged V8 Black Raven SUV slowly inched down the Seattle's Madison Avenue. Riley glanced at the Aegis driver that Jordan had flown in as he expertly managed the extra weight of the high-security armoring. The driver's eyes continued through the on-going scan for threats.

Naomi Rourke had sent Elise "Whisper" Hart's Aegis dossier as Leo shifted the tint of Riley's finger and toe nails. Whisper was a 5'2" Irish-American with strawberry blonde hair and a body filled with large freckles and had been a driver for the secret service and had drawn the assignment of driving the vice president her last year. She set a record on the service's advanced evasive driving course.

When she had pulled into Lysandra's estate, the small woman hopped down and went to welcome her passengers. Her keen green eyes were wide with awe she drove up and introduced herself to the legend of the agency, the Ghost. Riley remembering Lysandra's amused smile with the small driver glanced at the WNBA star briefly before returning her attention to Riley. Riley offered under his breath "it's the breasts she was goggling" he smiled, "I don't know how you women stand be objectified." Riley opened the back door and Lysandra stepped in, stifling her laugh.

Riley's attention snapped back to Madison Avenue and radio chatter.

"Whisper, SPD 117 is continuing. SPD 312 is parking in a street parking slot 200 feet from shop. You are cleared to enter the parking lot." The clear voice of Dr. Naomi Rourke rang out. Riley saw Whisper tap her ring twice and two clicks sounded over the comms acknowledging the message.

The right blinker announced the SUV's intent and it slowly rolled into the tight parking lot. Whisper pulled the Cadilac between the two parked cars that offered a direct path to the boutique.

"Ghost, 360 video shows no eyes on target. Clear to escort Valkyrie on your mark." Rourke announced. Whisper hit the door lock switch and the sound of them opening seemed to confirm it was go time.

Riley tapped his ring twice. "Ms. Vale, I will get out and open the door after I scan the area. It might be like 10 or 15 seconds." Riley spoke loudly and then opened and slid to the ground. His high-rise cotton midi-skirt billowing, his 1" heels of his ankle suede Prada boot striking the asphalt with a click, and a stylish gray sweater completed the ensemble Leo had designed for his first excursion into the public. Riley turned and scanned the parked cars for movement, the shops for focused eyes, and then reached for the back door.

Riley turned and faced away as Lysandra stepped on to the pavement and pushed the door closed with a muffled thump. Riley reached up and placed his hand at the back of the much taller client and ushered her between a BMW and Lexus towards the door of Élan Atelier.

The windows of the small dress boutique had a scene from a formal dance of four woman mannequins dressed in elegant gowns and clear filament held the gowns as if the flow of the dresses were frozen. Recessed lighting shimmered off the sequence. Riley's eyes scanned both approaches to the shop and took four quicksteps in his modest heels and grabbed the door the shop and held it open for Lyandra.

A door chime had grabbed the attention of an attendant who was soothing a gown on a tall rack. Her eyes sparked to life when she recognized Lysandra.

"Ms. Vale?!" The sales lady welcomed. "Ms. Colette is expecting you. Just one minute please."

"Thank you Sienna." Lysandra smiled at the woman's back.

Seconds later Colette Duval returned with an anxious Sienna fluttering behind her.

"Lysandra, 'ow eez my favoreeet canvass, eh?" The owner chimed in a French accent. "I 'ave ze Brunello Cucinelli Tropical Paillette Lux Fluid Couture Corset Gown in, and eet eez ready for you to try on, oui? Of course, I 'ave Marisol 'ere to make sure eet fits like a glove of silk."

"That is very kind of you Colette." Lysandra said, "I believe Maren Tullis called about a second dress we need for Riley here?"

"Mais oui, I 'ave a stunn-eeng Gee-von-shee 'alter sat-een backless trompett gown on 'and. It is très magnifique, non? She will turn 'eads, I promise you that!" Colette smiled. "Ah mais oui, eet eez only five thousand two 'undred dollars. A small price to pay for such elegance, non? She will look like a vision from le tapis rouge!"

Lysandra smiled to herself as she saw Riley's eyes widen in shock at the cost of her dress. She hoped that Colette did not share that her Brunello Cucinelli gown was over $12,000.

"Ah mais oui, are she ready to try on 'er Brunello Coo-chee-nelli gow?" Colette asked.

"I can't wait," Lysandra said with a smile. She turned to Riley and said under her breath "this is my favorite part of the shopping experience."

A woman with a pale complexion with golden undertones entered the showroom. She looked around the sales a thick pair of glasses framing dark brown eyes and took a sigh. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, and she wore a sweater with massive pockets that seemed to stuffed the rim with unknown items.

"Ah, Marisol, merci beaucoup for coming." The boutique's owner said with a massive smile. "Shall we move to Dressing Room numéro un?"

Riley stayed within an arm's length of Lysandra. The total entourage followed Colette who walked through an ornate arch. The room they entered had a number of luxurious sofas and armchairs that surrounded a small stage used to model formal dresses to curious family and friends. They walked pass a massive three piece mirror that towered 8' into the air, ornate woodwork holding three foot wide panels positioned to allow a dress to be viewed while wearing it.

They continued and walked through a second, smaller arch that led into a smaller room that had its own couch and chair. The proprietor walked over and picked up a shoe box, cracked the lid and pulled out a 3" high heel.

"Ah, très bien! I 'ave taken ze leeberty of ordering a size fourteen Stoo-art Vaitz-man Babette leather ankle-strap sandals." She smiled as if she just won an Olympic medal "Zey are chic, elegant, and perfect for completing 'er ensemble, non?"

"Oh, Colette, they are perfect." Lysandra said as she danced over to the shoe she held up.

"Your gown eez right over 'ere." She pointed to a small open closet that held a shimmering black dress. "Do you need assistance, or will Riley be ze one to assist you? Either way, we are ready to make you shine like une étoile!"

Lysandra's eyes bounced to find Riley's eyes wide with fear and he shaking his head no.

"If you wouldn't mind helping, that would be perfect." Lysandra said, trying to hide her smile from uncovering the "legend's" Kryptonite. An undressed woman."

Riley stood to the side as Lysandra, Marisol, and Colette worked through four different rounds of small adjustments. Each round would start with a viewing of Lysandra in the dress and Colette and Marison scouring every inch of the athlete's body for an element of the dress that was not perfect. Once the flaw was identified, the seamstress would follow Lysandra back to the private dressing room to perform her magic. The whole process would begin again. Once the collected eyes agreed the dress was perfect, Colette had Sienna bring in a tray of Champagne to celebrate.

As Lyandra sipped on a fluted glass of Champagne, Colette turned to Riley and asked. "Ah, Mademoiselle Riley, are you ready to try on your Gee-von-shee 'alter gown?"

"Lysandra, would you mind helping me with the gown Ms. Duval has set aside?" Riley asked with wide eyes.

"I would love too." Still dressed her gown, Lysandra chimed, with a disarming smile. "I just love fittings!"

Sienna scurred in with Riley's dress draped over her arm, she laid the dress over the back of the couch and backed out of the room with a smile. As soon as the assistant was gone a few seconds, Riley turned to Lysandra.

"I am so very sorry to have asked you in the dressing area with me," Riley eyes full of concern. "I have a handgun strapped to my thigh and I was not sure how Ms. Duval would react to its presence. I hope being alone in a dressing room is not an issue for you."

Lysandra---------------

Lysandra Vale knew she was a freak. Her entire life she towered over most of the "boys" and, for the most part, destroy them on a court, field, or pitch. It was a death by a thousand cuts. Being called an Amazon or Xena Princess Warrior were the kindest of comments.

Dressing in a shimmering dress that celebrated her body, forming it into a package that men and woman alike celebrated as gorgeous, beautiful, or magical was a salve that soothed away the thousands of scars. Her shoe contract with Nike generated unbelievable revenue and beyond her home, Octavia and the rest of the team, she did not have many vices.

The ability to walk into a dressier shop reserved for the wealthiest and have them reenact the scenes of playing Cinderella with a friend's Barbies could be her greatest, most treasured, guilty pleasure. Colette's outrageous and most likely absolutely fake French accent, the luxurious accommodations, and the celebration of Lysandra's body for its femininity was intoxicating. Spending tens of thousands of dollars for scraps of cloth and thread was crazy, wasteful, and screamed privilege! But Lysandra smiled anyway as the black dress celebrated her firm body and eyes went wide with envy.

The second that Colette asked Riley if he was ready to try on his dress, she saw the widening of the eyes and a sliver of fear rolled across his face. She added her quip and she followed Riley to the dressing area. Sienna delivered the gown and backed out of the room asking them to just call out if they needed anything.

Lysandra, still energized from the fitting, struggled to understand Riley's stress. His words echoed in her mind. Then she connected the dots. Riley concern for Colette warred with her own recent attack.

Her mind raced. There was still a sadly large part of her psyche that was repulsed with the idea of being in the room alone with a man. Another part of her mind cataloged how concerned Riley was with causing her added stress by isolating with her in a room in which he would need to change clothes.

"Sorry, I was lost in the euphoria of dress shopping." Lysandra quipped with a smile. "I have made you strip on a basketball court, so I think I will be ok to serve as your Fairy Godmother and help you find the perfect dress for the gala!"

Riley's entire body of overly-wound muscles seemed to relax as her words washed over him. "Oh, goodie!" Riley said with a whimsical playfulness in his voice. "Who are you going to turn into the footman?" Then he lowered his voice and in quiet stage whisper ""Maîtresse Colette ferait un excellent valet."

Lysandra felt the rumbles of her laugh in the pit of her stomach. She tried to swallow it, but it spewed out as a volcano of glee. A bashful Sienna nocked quietly on the archway.

"Ms. Duval asked me to check on you to make sure you two are ok." The assistant asked meekly.

"Sorry, Sienna." Lysandra struggled to gain control. "Riley can be so silly. We are fine and I will try to get Riley in the dress as soon as possible."

Sienna withdrew with a puzzled look on her face, attempting to build the message to Colette in her mind.

"Don't get me kicked out of Élan Atelier Riley." Lysandra smiled, "it is a guilty pleasure for me."

"But of course, my apologies." Riley said with a bow. He pointedly looked between the dress, a large stand mirror, and Lysandra. "Ms. Vale, I have no idea what to do."

Lysandra smiled comfortly. "First, we have to think about the footwork. The foundation is the key to every outfit." She smiled. "What is your shoe size?"

Riley smiled thankfully, "Men's 7 and um," he looked up trying to recall, "I think Leo said woman's 8 1/2."

Lysandra raised her voice. "Sienna, would you have a pair of the Stuart Weitzman's I am wearing in 8 1/2?"

A pair of fluttering feet brought Sienna into the dressing area. "I believe we do, let me check," and the assistant was gone with a swish of fabric.

"Next, lets get you in the dress." Lysandra said as she walked over to the couch and picked up the dress. "This is a lovely dress." She looked at the dress as her hands explored the cut.

Riley turned and walked over to the mirror and sat down on the chair and unzipped his brown suede boots and pulled off a pair of brown ankle socks. He stood up and pulled the thick Polo Ralph Lauren Wool crewneck sweater over his head, trying to minimize the damage to Leo's carefully crafted hair.

"Please don't tell Leo if I messed up my hair." Riley chirped, "perhaps we can blame it on a flock of Ravens?"

Lysandra just chuckled. "You would need something shinney for them to dive for." She advised. "But, so far so go. The curls are still curley."

He mocked-wiped his forehead. He carefully folded the sweater and sat it carefully next to his shoes, twisting the sweater so it was in perfect alignment with the shoes. Her eyes traveled across his chest and found that his breasts were larger. He wore a black lade plunge bra that showcased impressive cleavage. She focused to see if she could see the seams where Leona had glued the breast form to his chest, but the cleavage looked seamless, and the color of the breasts were an exact match of his torso.

A polite knock on the arch announced Sienna, who carried a box reverently into the dressing room.

"Stuart Weitzman Babette Leather Ankle-Strap Sandals size 8 1/2." The saleswoman announced in a pleased voice. She carefully sat the box on the couch and backed out. "If you need anything else, just sing out." She smiled and disappeared around the entry.

A duet of thank you echoed after her escape.

Riley returned to his shirt, loosening his thin belt and then pulled the knee-length skirt down his legs and stepped out of the skirt, pulling it up and carefully folding it and adding it to his clothes pile. He took a deep breath and turned towards the center of the room and met the eyes of Lysandra.

Lysandra glanced up and down his body. He wore biker shorts that went halfway down his thighs. On the inner right leg, there was pocket formed into the garment that held a handgun.

"How fast of a draw are you with your gun?" Lysandra asked.

"Well, I am hoping flashing them my naughty bits will confuse them for three minutes while I free my Glock." Riley chuckled.

"That is an interesting tactic." Lysandra laughed.

Riley paused and looked directly into Lysandra's eyes. "I am at the end of my rope Ms. Vale, I heard backless and I am not sure what to do about my..." He pointed to his bra.

"I hope you serve as an ambassador for us women to your smelly men," Lysandra quipped. "The things we women do to look good are profound. I am afraid, the bra has to go."

Riley sighed himself and reached behind his back to grab the two ends of the wings. Lysandra thought she saw the tip of his tongue appear in concentration as he attempted to coax the hooks out of their small eyes. As the hooks came loose, the elastic garment relaxed and Riley's breast forms offered a gentle sag giving an authentic look to the process.

Riley turned back and even in the bright light of the dressing room the faux breasts were perfect. The skin tone and texture of the breasts were spot on. The raised pink nipples were perky with an authentic crinkle of the aureole to suggest the kiss of cool air.

"Excuse, me," Riley laughed, "my eyes are up here!"

Lysandra eyes popped up to see Riley smiling. She blushed as she dropped her voice as deep as it could go. "But babe, the boob fairy visited you twice!"

"Please tell me that is something you made up?" Riley begged.

"Nope, I was an early bloomer and at a national AAU tournament." Lysandra smiled, "and that was his line. He didn't know that is mother was behind him and the slap to the back of his head may still be echoing around his poor head."

"That was a hard lessoned he learned." Riley agreed. He turned and folded the bra and placed it gently onto the growing stack of clothes.

Lysandra walked over the Givenchy's Gown and lifted up of the couch. Her thumb and forefinger tested the quality of the fabric and found it was a fantastic weave. She found a small zipper at the back of the dress that pulled the gown tight around the waist. The halter top had a small hook that fastened the dress around the neck.

"Often, women will either use something called boob tape, there is an adhesive bra that sticks to the breasts and provide support, and depending on the fabric, I hear women wearing band aids over their nipples so the dress doesn't chafe." Lysandra said as she brought the dress over to Riley. "The good news is that you breasts are perky on their own and you don't have to worry about chafe of your nipples."

"Well, from the dress anyway," Riley smiled and he gave her a wink. The wink almost made her miss her step. It was so stinking innocent and cute as can be. She rewarded him with a smile.

Lysandra unzipped the dress and handed it to Riley with the waste held in her hands. He took it and looking for approval stepped into the dress. He pulled the dress up and it pulled over his waist easily.

"Do you mind?" She asked and she moved behind him. She towered a full foot above him in her 2" heels. He looked up into her eyes as she wrapped her long arms around him and grabbed the halter top and slowly pulled up his front. She felt the dress engage his breast forms and the heft was strangely realistic. She looped the straps around his neck and clipped the hook holding the dress in place. "There is a zipper down here if you don't mind?" She added.

"Please, I am totally lost." Riley added, his eyes focused on her's.

She dropped her eyes, found the zipper and grabbed it and slowly started to pull. "Mind holding the gown's skirt down?"

Once the zipper was in place, she stepped back and was stunned to see a model-ready beauty staring back at her.

"Let me grab the shoes." Lysandra asked and in two steps and the shoes in hand. She walked over and then saw the scars. Her breath caught in an "Oh, my."

Riley's eyes popped up and saw the shocked look on her face.

"Riley," she said with emotion. "What has happened to you?"

Riley turned and tilted his head back to look up into her ice blue eyes. "Just a scar or two." He smiled sadly. "Some from my childhood and some from my time in the service."