Brows Rose At The Air Of Confidence That Seemed To Emit From His Very Being. Zahra Did Not Mind A Partner

ADITI RAO HYDARI in Sufiyum Sujatayum (2020) dir. Shanavas Naranipuzha

the dancer had stood nearby to the side, just out of sight of the princess consort, but within sight of leila, should the young princess seek her teacher's encouragement. zahra smiled, softly muttering a step-count to herself as she watched, though her gaze often drifted to the woman who sat nearby, who's smile could rival the very sun in this moment. zahra felt a great sense of pride in such a thing, to not only see the beaming features of myriam, but to see her pupil shine just as bright.

yet, there was a small sense of longing, how different it might be if they knew who she truly was. she quickly put that to the back of her mind, as zahra maintained her focus on the reason she was here. to know that it was she who was sought out for this opportunity was a great honor, and she would not squander it with the hope that her sister would believe what she knew to be true. she heard of the fire that burned within myriam allyrion, and she could see it now even as it was tame, there was still some small flame, providing warmth to those around her, as could be seen in her very demeanor.

and as the thoughts crossed her mind, leila had completed her routine, and zahra exhaled, realizing in all that time she had held her breath, though it was not for worry that the young girl would not do well, but that dancing, performing always had a way of capturing her completely, she may very nearly drown in it.

zahra joined in, lightly clapping her hands, offering leila a bright smile and nod before she ran off to the other group of girls. and suddenly the princess consort was approaching her, the very way she walked spoke to her power and confidence. the dancer of salt shore maintained her composure, thankful that the excitement of what had just occurred was further heightened than any anxiety she may feel in this moment.

she gave an airy laugh, shrugging her shoulders in response to the question. "truly, she's a natural, your grace. and she certainly inherits her skill from her mother." zahra added, knowing very well of the other's own skills in dancing, while a sense of joy came over her for being in the princess consort's good graces. why would she ever risk such a thing?

"i am honored to have been her teacher. thank you for allowing me such a privilege."

who: @dancingshores​ where: one of the gardens allocated to the dornish quarters within highgarden, in the final few days of the dornish court’s stay within highgarden. there is privacy within the gardens, and martell guards stationed where entrances are located between the bushes. why? because the heir of dorne was in the middle of something incredibly precarious and important. presenting her mother and zahra sand with her kathak skills, an intricate dance skill.

there came the sounds of leila’s ankles with each move she perfected, with a sense sharp of perfection; her movements were sharp, concise, and clear. and yet it were her expressions that caused the sun to beam across the face of myriam allyrion, to watch the girl channel the theatrics that truly made dornish dance different to other forms of dance: each move was almost a piece of theatre. she had never heard of the name zahra sand before, and yet, it seemed as though leila had heard of the woman amongst her own circle of young dornish girls, with the world at their feet and on their shoulders. 

and it were like a wonder had played out before her very eyes; for as much as the princess of dorne would clap and encourage the girl who knew herself to be the ruler of dorne, kathak had never been her strength. if anything, she had been some of the weakest amongst her group of friends all her same age; children, unaware of the realities of the world. and here she was now, with a sense of concise movement that myriam had been unable to install within her old child, regardless of how many demonstrations she had showed. 

regardless of the times the two had grown irritable with one another, they always ended up trying and trying and trying again. 

zahra sand had been working with her daughter for some weeks, and this was the first time she watched it. she heard the woman was very gentle in the way she interacted with children, and ensured to thoroughly run through the woman’s background before granting her access to the very future of dorne. she had found nothing to be worried of, only that the woman engaged in travels with her lord father years ago, as so many of them had. dorne was the only place to go, and thus, so many truly travelled it length and breadth. there was clapping as the girl finished, her face clearly excited; and in one go, she had flurried off to the other girls who watched. 

they spoke excitedly with one another, and myriam watched with a sense of joy, of happiness, and of bittersweetness. there was a time where her daughter would come to her instantly. she truly was growing up. 

turning toward the lady in question, myriam rose from the ornate chair she had placed herself upon, approaching the woman. her face was bright, brighter than it had been in some days; though her altercation with her brother remained hanging heavy in the hair, she was able to find joy in the reality of her life. how she wished for another, and whilst she was not entirely sure, here they were. “what need i say to you?” she asked, the sounds of anklets jingling as she crossed the grass. she was barefoot upon it, feeling the warmth of the sun beneath her soles. “what magic do you use, zahra?” 

as the liquid ran itself over her tongue, she could understand why he would say such a thing. zahra had little opportunity to indulge in such a drink, normally preferring to opt for dornish red, or a spirit her father brought back from one of the free cities after a time of sailing and conducting his affairs. she found it strange he preferred to conduct his business himself, though at the same time, she understood it. it was easier to leave salt shore to the heir, her trueborn sibling, as they would one day take the keep for themselves. given her entire existence, to begin with, it likely allowed him more freedom to indulge in business beyond trade: pleasures. the thought itself nearly brought a humorous smile to her lips as she thought of the conversation she entertained with lord yronwood earlier in the evening.

not so long ago the pair conversed in the great hall amongst other nobles, and now she stood here before him in his chambers alone, silks of gold against her skin almost giving the impression she glowed like the sun. hazel orbs observed the darkened coals turning red as they were lit by the lord whilst he continued to casually converse with her.

"if you are a traitor, then i suppose i am, too." she jested, giving a slight raise of her goblet before taking another long sip. the dancer glid over to the velvet chair across from him, taking a seat of her own and tucking her legs to the side of her while an elbow came to rest upon the chairs arm.

gaze broke from looking at him as he spoke of her being rumored to be the lady of the tor, and truthfully it was not something that was not unknown to her. it was even considered by her. some might call it self-sabotage, foolishness to reject an opportunity to rise from the position of her birth - but it simply didn't feel right for her, despite her relationship with rashid. "the princess loreza is far better for such a role." zahra stated simply, a beat of silence before she grasped the hookah that was offered and took small inhale of the smoke, allowing it to linger within her lips for a moment before i softly emitted from her mouth.

when he spoke of cards, there was a shift within her, eyes lighting up slightly as she handed the hookah back to him. "it's not always easy to read peoples feelings, they are ever-changing." she insisted with a grin. "you did not strike me as someone who would care to be read." hand dipped into a pocket within her dress, pulling out a deck of cards she tended to keep on hand. "or would you?" brows rose teasingly, though she hoped he would accept the offer.

꙰

there was a sense of ease that seemed to come over the ruling lord of yronwood as the dancer of salt shore continued to waft her way through his personal apartments within the wing of highgarden; a sense of ease that did not come in the form of cockiness or arrogance, which was most unlike him - but rather a sense of quiet contentment and amusement to watch the way in which her figure made it's way around his rooms almost as though she had walked into her own rooms.

"call me a traitor for admitting it tastes better than the dornish." the wines of the arbor came from the other sort of rhoynish that filled the continent of westeros, those who were more different to them than one could have expected; it sometimes felt as though they sometimes even had more similarities with andals than their fellow rhoynish.

and whilst his words were about wine, the casual, almost husky tone in which he spoke made it appear as though it were some illicit suggestion of something else. and perhaps it was, to gage her reaction; he noticed not as he leaned forwards to light the hookah that remained from some hours earlier, allowing it time to heat up against the hot coals. and whilst she continued to coquettishly twirl her way around the room, he remained; almost as though his own stillness was the centre within the room, the gravitational pull.

her bold confirmation caused the flicker of a smirk to cross over dark features, continuing to look at the way in which the coals beneath the hookah glowed amber: it were something the reachmen did, and thus, was easy enough to get a hold of, and he merely held it in his hand as it began to warm up. silently, he offered her the hookah; leaning back upon the velvet recliner as he rolled one of the sleeves of his black kurta up his forearms.

"because, if memory serves me correct, you were readying yourself to play lady of the tor." he replied, his voice utterly casual, flat in how direct he was to the point; yet there was not an inch of irritation to him. "that is what everyone thought, aside from yourself it turns out." it was not well known what happened, and yet, armaan remembered the news being broken by rashid to himself and baashir alike. he remembered the way in which his brows had furrowed, confused as to why such a thing would not have gone through when it appeared perfect - and it made sense now. sometimes, things that seemed perfect were cursed to be more tainted than any other.

"who knows. nothing happened, after all." he referred to the time she had spent within yronwood, alongside her father: known for his commerce. he remembered watching the way in which he spun his networks of money, of gold, and thus of influence. "just ended up being something the both of us stayed quiet about. stay quiet about." he added, making it clear to her; even now, years later, he had not mentioned the fact that he knew of zahra sand before the apparent first time he had come across her in the tor. things had ended up the way they were supposed to in the end. "you ask many questions for a seer. still doing your cards thing?"

zahra crossed her arms in front of her chest at his comment, feigning her displeasure for his remark with expressive features, one's often seen in her dancing, for she never seemed to stop presenting her whole self for the world to see. it was for that very reason she dove so deeply into her art, it was truly part of her. "well, i'd like to see them try. shall i go back down to the great hall and challenge one of them?" she answered, a soft giggle of amusement at her own quip.

she were no fool to the thoughts running through their heads as they looked upon her, just as she were no fool to the lord of yronwood's clear disbelief in the cards he held in his hands, or the very stars in the sky - despite how greatly she believed in them. despite the things she noticed, it never seemed to affect her own demeanor. zahra continued on as she always would. "no matter if they knew me, they would still see me for what they believe i am." she stated, almost nonchalantly. she didn't think it mattered if she tried to convince them she were more than just warm flesh and foreign beauty. "but it is not one of their chambers i find myself in tonight." she added, almost to make a point that, despite her charade, it went no further than that for her.

"if it were not me they thought of, it would be another. many beauties from all over here in the reach." zahra insisted, reaching for the three cards he handed her with one fluid, graceful movement. "let's see if i can finally make a believer out of you." she winked, placing the cards face down in a row in front of her.

she flipped the first card. "the six of cups - this one represents innocence, childhood, memories. perhaps you've been dwelling on the your childhood, or past, lately, and seek comfort in an old friend." hand moved to the center card. "the tower - this reprehents a sudden change in life, upheaval, perhaps you're experiencing something unexpected?" she questioned, with a shrug, she turned the last card and a bright smile came over her face. "the star." zahra stated, "hope and healing, your future is filled with something brighter, a renewed optimism. perhaps whatever disruption is occuring is necessary for the future."

zahra waited a beat, not quite looking up at him from the cards just yet, until she did. "well? wrong again?"

꙰

"im sure even your reach men could outdance you, if you managed to put on the right music for them." his words were taunting now, light in the message rather than the normal seriousness that was in his tone of voice. armaan yronwood hated reachmen; both andal and old rhoynish, no doubt a reflection of the tensions that came with remaining on the borders with the other region.

then again, he detested even the stormlanders to the north, and their dragon overlords - he could still not fully understand how was it the mighty storm lords had accepted such a conquering; they had truthfully surprised the bloodroyal, in their ability to play the submissive partner and take the dominance of the dragon king.

"they were doing more than gawking." he responded, his tone pointed now, his gaze meeting her own knowingly; it was not hard for zahra sand to illicit lust from men. especially when they looked at her as though she were a kite they would try to master, some mythical being from a land far away. all dornish women were looked at in such a way: sexual deviants, and inherent threats due to their willingness to cross what was considered their norm.

"no doubt some poor woman was completely unaware of who her husband is thinking of in their marriage bed tonight." truthfully, a part of him expected that he would have discarded of her skirts by this point, with their bodies doing the talking for them: and instead, they sat lazily upon such velvet pillows, inhaling the smoke before exhaling it. he could not quite pinpoint where the change had happened: only, that it had.

her laughter at her blunder caused the first crack of a smile to cross his own features, finding amusement at the entire situation, rather than laughing at her directly. it was the confidence that had thrown him, and was enough to illicit chuckles coming from him as he leaned forward to take three more cards, one by one. "three cards for the fraudulent stars.' he responded, placing down them on the carpet.

ADITI RAO HYDARI in FITOOR (2016)

the gardens embraced them with the scent of flowers and the soothing murmur of water, creating a sanctuary within the bustling court. zahra's guarded exterior seemed to loosen in myriam's presence, revealing a woman who, despite the complexities of her role, cherished the connections that transcended the political intricacies of the position of the princess consort. the offer was more than a business transaction, of that she was certain, or perhaps hopeful of. she did not think the offer would be given to just anyone, there was a level of trust that was extended to her, and she knew it would be unwise to allow that to pass.

"today it is, then." zahra responded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. her voice carried the weight of experiences untold, yet in myriam's company, there was a subtle vulnerability that lingered beneath the surface. she appreciated myriam's efforts to tether her, to not let the winds she allowed to carry her do so as easily as she often found them to.

the mention of the powers that surrounded them brought the dancer's mind back to the intricacies of politics that surrounded myriam's position. she appreciated the woman's relaxed nature in her presence, feeling the same semblance of peace around her as well. though perhaps there was an inkling feeling of guilt that pricked at her like a thorn upon one of the many roses that surrounded them. she knew so much more than she spoke of, and yet, she wondered if the other would find joy in the discovery of a familial connection, or distress in finding there was more in her life unknown to her. would she even believe her?

and so she put such thoughts to the back of her mind. perhaps there would be a time to speak of it. zahra was simply happy for the natural connection that seemed to be forming between the two.

a melodic laugh left her at myriam's quip, giving a playful shrug of her shoulders. "what's a dance if not having an element of surprise?" she asked, tone lighthearted, suddenly feeling the sticky heat upon her neck as well as she moved dark tresses over one shoulder to allow the little breeze that blew to cool her off. "oh yes, everything is well. there are just some things i'd like to sort out, and i think i may depart before the rest of the court." though she would not be far from her own haveli, she wanted to ensure things were going well there before she would be away from it even longer than now. often zahra checked in to ensure things were going over smoothly. the lifeline she had created for herself and built upon her own two feet was of great importance to her.

"i promise, i will not stray far." she added with a grin.

eyebrows both rose as the prospect of a permanent position in sunspear, it was almost enough to cause flighty feet to find their ground, for once. almost. but it was all the reason why she continued to float around from place to place, wasn’t it? life at court did not feel fitting for her, though she was not necessarily a lady, she could feel the weight of responsibility on her shoulders just being there, should she decide to do so on a long term basis.

however the princess offered another proposition to her, one where her wings could continue to spread as she pleased, and she need only teach upon her visits. it felt much more to her taste. though zahra could certainly use something to settle her at some point, even the opportunity to be near her blood, though the other did not know it, felt as if it might not be enough. perhaps it would be though, if the dancer found the courage to utter such truths, truths she feared would not be accepted by the woman before her.

and still, zahra did not want for much in life, except to dance. she had spent years on her craft, and she knew there was still more for her to learn, so much she could teach. yet, she felt, and knew, the best opportunity that could ever cross her path is being the teacher to the heir of all of dorne.

“perhaps one day.” zahra answered in jest, a small sense of longing within her chest at the thought of actually of actually settling. it was certainly the affect that the woman before her had, to no fault of her own.

there was little moment of pondering, but her mind drifted to the days of traveling with her father. though he noble, she was on the outside looking in, able to come and go as she pleased even then, but her father gave in to her pleads to travel along with him, perhaps fueling her desire to wander around all of dorne. sunspear, by far, was her favorite place, and she had little qualms with visiting it more often, in an unofficial sense.

she gave a nod, chestnut curls shifting, and smiled at the other. “of course, your grace, i would be happy with such an arrangement.” it was genuine, her words, though a slight sense of panic could be felt in the pattering of her heart. zahra managed to calm such a feeling. “i have much i would like to teach her as long as you will have me.” she added, ideas already swirling in her mind on what techniques they would work on next, but she brought herself back to the conversation before her.

“she looks so very proud, she should be.” zahra noted aloud as she watched the young girl amongst the others her age. “if i may ask, do you expect to depart the reach soon?”

Aditi Rao Hydari for Siddartha Tytler Couture' 24

the dark hues of zahra sand fluttered back and forth between the two lords - almost reminding her of an eager puppy and a unamused cat in the way they greeted her and subsequently in the moods they exuded. it caused her to wander where the stars fell in the sky upon their births, she was fascinated. when the golden-like lord asked her name, a grin spread over her features. "zahra." she answered, her name rolling off her accented tongue. "you are too kind to allow to join. i know not what we play, but i am quick to learn." she interlaced her fingers on the table in front of her, sitting comfortably upon the velvet seat as if she were in her own home.

the dancer reached into her pocket and placed a velvet pouch on the table. "so, what are the rules, what's the bet?" head tilted to the side as she awaited an answer from either. "and no need to go easy on me, i shall win or lose fairly." she gave a nod of affirmation, a semblance of natural pride upon her features, now.

@nicholaslannisters

It was a card game, one with shuffling and gambling. Nicholas was a gambler, sure -- but with his own life. People bet on him in the lists, the battlefield, his horses. This was… similar to battle, in a way, with having to strategize one's wager and cards, but…

He was loosing. But each time his hand had failed him, it had been met with a thunderous laugh and another round of drinks delivered to the table. It preyed on his pride, and when one had Lannister gold, well… he was determined he'd be on the winning side eventually. It was all fun, after all -- and after his mother's attempts in Riverrun… though the lord across from him was no comrade, there had been no reason not to play a few rounds. Win or lose, it was a coronation.

There were people to meet, people to… find.

But now there was a chance he wouldn't lose -- and so he greeted the beautiful woman with a wide, bearded smile.

Ever the chivalrous knight, he stood, gesturing to an empty seat. "You do not mind, Percy?" Use of a nickname, despite barley knowing him. Titles, despite carrying a heavy one of his own, floating completely over his head. "We could level the playing field, with lady…?"

@percival-templeton

the sun filtered through trailing vines above the arbor, dappling the pale stone in shifting patterns of gold and green. the morning had yet to turn hot, but there was a hum in the air, of politics dressed in garden silks, of laughter that didn’t quite reach the eyes. zahra sand walked quietly, her steps unhurried, her silks a soft whisper behind her.

she noticed jalabhar before he spoke, poised beneath the shade like he was waiting for someone—or nothing at all. the way his eyes moved reminded her of sand cats in the dunes: still, but never truly still.

“you speak like someone who’s been keeping score,” she said, approaching slowly, voice as light as the breeze. “peace as a game… i wonder how many people forget they’re playing.”

she didn’t stand too close. instead, she found a low stone ledge nearby and brushed her hand along it before sitting. not presuming, just… present. she didn’t meet his eyes right away. instead, she let her fingers graze the carved edge of the low stone ledge before she sat, her bangles chiming softly as she adjusted the fall of her skirts. careful. calm. on the surface, she was only being polite. friendly, as anyone might be. but beneath it, her heart fluttered.

he knew her name. not hers, but myriam’s. but what else came with that knowledge?

“it’s hard to tell, sometimes,” she went on lightly, “who’s here to bloom and who’s here to root.” her gaze flicked back to him, curious. “but you already know, don’t you? you strike me as someone who sees more than most."

what: open starter where: the reach event

The scent of crushed mint and warm stone clung to the air in Highgarden’s upper court, where fountains whispered and butterflies floated lazily through shafts of morning light. There were no banners flaring, no horns blaring—just the hum of strategy disguised as civility, ideas wrapped in sweet wine and rose-scented diplomacy.

Jalabhar Mooton stood beneath the arch of a marble arbor, wine cup cradled loosely in one hand, his other resting lightly atop the pommel of his walking stick—not for need, but for style. He wore rich burgundy, white-gold thread curling like rivers across his chest and cuffs, dark silk trousers tucked into polished boots.

His eyes were moving constantly—watching, not just looking. He noted who entered the courtyard, who avoided whom, who drank too quickly, and who smiled too long. Beneath the surface of progress and peace, he could feel it—ambition with teeth. And he liked it. This was the battlefield he craved.

"Funny thing about peace," he murmured, more to the air than to anyone present. "Folk tend to forget it’s just another kind of game. Quieter, aye—but the stakes? Still sharp."

setting: flashback to the lockdown in dorne, after zahra's interaction with a mysterious volantene woman, she finds a comforting presence in an old friend ; starter for @opheliafowler

the cool stone walls of sunspear seemed to close in around zahra sand as she walked the dimly lit corridor, her footsteps echoing softly against the marble floor. the flickering torchlight danced along the mosaics, casting shifting patterns that normally brought her comfort. tonight, they felt as restless as she did.

she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, her fingers trembling slightly as she smoothed the fabric. she had known this secret since she was old enough to understand its weight. her mother, an essosi beauty had come to Dorne long ago. a fleeting affair with the ruling lord of salt shore had resulted in zahra. but zahra had also learned, from the mouth of her father itself, that she was not her mother’s only child. the regent of dorne, proud and unyielding, shared her blood. the knowledge sat heavily in zahra’s heart, a truth she carried alone. her mother had made sure of that, until now. suddenly, everything zahra had tried to keep safely tucked away was threatening to come undone.

the sound of footsteps pulled zahra from her thoughts, a fleeting moment of panic it was the woman again, but relief washed over her features to see ophelia fowler. a kind smile came over her cheeks, flush with the frustration of her previous interaction, hopefully shadowed by the flickering of the lighting in this hall. "ophelia," she breathed. a welcome face. "how are things in the great hall? i can feel the tension in my bones."