There was a cell down in the dungeons where, if you sat in just the right corner, you could hear a girl sobbing.
No one ever noticed the bracelet, still hidden amongst the straw.
There was a grate in the kitchen that the cooks learned not to put any food under. At first they blamed the serving boys, but after the head chef caught a glimpse of a chicken leg floating up to the grate, she just gave up. Any food put under there was an intentional sacrifice, and she planned accordingly.
There were a lot of quirks like that in the castle, some deadly, some harmless. Not all were directly attributable to ghosts, either; there was a section of wall with old protection runes that not even gunpowder managed to breach, and there were rocks down in the caverns beneath it that folk said were still warm from dragon fire stoked with rage.
Some you learned to avoid, some to accept, and some to embrace. There was one, however, that outranked them all. After all, you could placate the poltergeist with apples and use the cursed crossbow when the enemies were so thick you didn't really care who you hit, but there was just nothing to be done about this one. All attempts had failed. At long last, they'd been forced to abandon the room.
Oh, it was safe enough during the day but at night . . . They'd all rather sleep in the weeping cell, thanks.
It was a shame. They said it had once been a king's bedroom.
But no amount of prestige could ever make up for those horrible, ear piercing, not-tangible-enough-to-smother-with-a-pillow snores.
. . . . .
A/N: So I was browsing pinterest and I came across a pin from the episode where Arthur's staying at Gwen's place and she informs him of his faults. Rudeness, for one, but also . . . snoring. The haunting story was still on my mind, so here you are.
