Zahra Leaned Back Against The Stone Wall, Her Long, Dark Braid Spilling Over Her Shoulder As She Watched

the wings of zahra sand had long spread as the dancer flew her way around dorne perfecting and teaching her craft. since the woman left the tor, it wasn't long she stayed in one particular place. even her house of birth, salt shore, did not see her for periods longer than she could help it. the stars and scenery was everchanging around her, and she felt happier for it, for the most part. feet found it's next stop within the halls of godsgrace, a place that subtly connected her to someone she was far more intertwined with than anyone knew, but she had found her own relationships within those that lived in these halls, particularly the other children of house allyrion.

dastan had become a familiar face she enjoyed seeing during her time in the keep, and mayya was a young woman's who's talent grew everytime zahra returned to these walls. the dancer had attended his wedding, of course, and unfortunately admist the turmoil and subsequent trip to volantis with his new bride, it seemed long that she had last seen him. once she set eyes upon her old friend, she could sense the happiness that emitted from him, and it was met with her own bright smile.

"dastan!" she exclaimed, embracing the lord before her, before releasing and looking to the lady at his side. she was a pretty woman, and zahra offered a nod and smile to her. "it is good to see you again, my lady." she stated. "how was volantis?" zahra asked the pair now. "my father has spoken so much of it, i should hope one day i get to witness it's beauty myself."

Closed starter for @dancingshores Setting: 140 AC. Dastan Allyrion and his wife, Sofina Merryweather, return to Godsgrace after a few months spent in his mother's homeland of Volantis following their wedding.

Tensions had been running high after the union of his house to the House Merryweather of the Reach. It had been a measure of safety to remain abroad for a time, to let the fire that had been lit on the day of his wedding celebration be put out. Constant letters to his lord father kept the Lord of Godsgrace informed on how matters developed, and plans were outlined to invest not only in repairs for areas that were damaged by the rioters but to improve upon what had been there before. Those letters tethered him home in the distance, yet his heart missed it. Volantis wasn't foreign to him, not with the travels he'd done since his youth to know that part of his mother's family. They were most welcoming, and in them, Dastan saw so much of his mother's controlled fire, her spirit, and determined nature.

It was a blessing to be home, one he felt deeply in his chest when the carriage crossed the gates into the fortified castle of Godsgrace. Dastan was quick to go hand in hand with his wife to his mother and father, to see his sisters, upon their return. Blessed be the gods that guarded them as they sailed back, and allowed him to embrace his family once more. It was a pleasant surprise to find an old family friend in their midst. With how much his mother revered Zahra's skill and Mayya's continuous learning of the artistry the dancer could teach, it wasn't rare to find the desert dancer as a guest of House Allyrion.

“Zahra, mera dost,” My friend, the lord greeted her with a smile as he went over to hug her. Dastan, who was so often invaded by the sorrow in his blood, had found in recent months that smiling came easier to him, not a pretense to be amenable and polite, but a true drive that bloomed from the heart. The gods had blessed him. They truly had set him on a path he didn't believe he deserved, yet one that continued to fill him with unexpected happiness.

The lord had been teaching his wife a few words from the Dornish tongue, as she'd asked him so much about his family and seemed eager to learn anything Dastan was willing to share. Yet, out of respect for Sofina, he went on in the common tongue so she would understand everything being said. “Do you remember Zahra, my love? I introduced you to so many people at our wedding, but she's the one who's taught my sister everything she knows,” he said, in reference to Mayya's talent as a dancer. “She's Dorne's most revered dancer”. Anyone who stated otherwise was in denial of a simple truth.

even before the woman uttered words regarding what zahra had been doing, it were clear that she suspected her of...something. enough to draw suspicion simply because of who she was speaking to. the dancer understood it, probably would've thought it herself, but she simply wondered why this woman would approach her regarding it. what was the benefit? perhaps halima yronwood was simply a snake in the grass, ready to strike and get a leg up with whatever opportunity presented itself to her. the thought was intriguing, but fleeting. zahra set her sights on attempting to deflect.

it was a poor effort, on her part, however. for in her art her expressions were always right there - right upon the surface of her features. she could not hide it, but she could excuse her flustered nature and heightened emotions with what was occurring now. "i did not even know who she was, perhaps lady fowler does." zahra's tone was flat, even she did not believe it, perhaps she were calling the other's bluff, if it was even that.

she felt a new way of agitation wash over her at the comment made, no doubt to provoke a reaction out of her. zahra, however, was never one to quite react in such heated ways, instead the emotions bared itself, certainly, but then she took it to the dancefloor. she did not quite like the feeling of admitting when one had gotten under her skin, but this woman, was quite close to getting her to do just that.

"courtesan, or lady, the reaction would be all the same." she responded, "we might've, had i chosen to live my life differently." zahra inhaled, letting her frustration release as the breath exited her lips again. "alas, we have very little in common. i can't help, but wonder, what answers you are expecting from me, my lady?"

there was a similarity, halima thought, head cocking brazenly as she took in the features of the the gargalen bastard. something in the way the lashes framed the eyes and the graceful curve of her jaw. she could see the shade of farah gargalen there, the way she had been before a tumble in the dark had closed her own eyes and shattered her own jaw. and despite the fact that halima knew the sound of her kin's death-rattle, she still looked at zahra as though she had something to hide.

because obviously, she did. halima was never certain if people were telling her the truth, but she could certainly spot a lie, and there was no part of her that believed the words zahra spoke carried with them a grain of truth.

"then should i ask lady fowler who you were speaking with?" there was an implicit threat to her tone, an unflinching rigidity that carried with it an undercurrent of a challenge. she had no intention of sharing what she had seen with a fowler, but her words carried with it the suggestion of potential - how easy it would be to ensure word of this was dispersed through court.

"the court is emotional at the moment," she concurred, in a voice completely devoid of said emotion. "i am sure everyone is grateful that you afforded our departed lord jordayne the respect he deserves." the words would almost sound kind, if not for what followed them. "still, seems quite silly to allow a courtesan to provoke such a reaction."

her finger was raised, a tap of the lips. "but then, i forget who i am speaking to. bastards, courtesans, i suppose you probably have some things in common."

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?"

the hum of the hall’s conversation and music seemed to drift away as zahra sat gracefully across from ruqaiyah. the lady’s sharp words, deliberately loud enough to be overheard, hung in the air, but zahra met them with the calm patience she had honed over years of navigating moments like this. her fingers lightly smoothed the edge of her gown before folding neatly in her lap.

“my lady,” zahra said softly, her tone steady and warm, “the stars speak only of what is, not of what may not be. and in what they show, i see no uncertainty in your place beside prince ravi. your union has been spoken of as fact, a bond that seems as secure as the foundations of starfall itself.”

her gaze held the other's, kind and unwavering, as though she could will the other woman to feel the assurance she offered. “but the stars also reflect the weight of responsibility you carry. to stand at the side of a prince is no small thing, nor is it given lightly. what i see in you is strength—a strength both to endure and to lead. such qualities do not go unnoticed, not by the stars, and certainly not by the prince.”

she leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering just enough to add a layer of sincerity to her words. “if there are decisions before you, they are not matters of doubt, my lady, but of opportunity. i see paths that lead to triumph, not uncertainty.” she smiled, small and kind, letting her words linger.

her touch light, zahra traced ruqaiyah’s palm briefly, as if to underline her point. “the stars say nothing of rivals or questions of loyalty. they show only that you are destined to wield great influence, whether it be within the halls of starfall or beyond them.”

she allowed herself a softer tone as she finished. “uou are more than ready for this, my lady. and while the stars may guide, it is your own radiance that will truly illuminate the way forward. have faith in what you already know to be true, i apologize if i cast any misunderstandings.”

her smile lingered, gentle and composed, as if she hoped to ease the tension with her calm. “if there is anything more you seek, my lady, i am here to assist you,” zahra added, her voice imbued with quiet resolve.

★

ruqaiyah leaned back slightly, her glossy lips curving into a slow, calculated smile. the torches cast a golden light over her pale lavender gown, their glow playing across the delicate white gold embellishments that shimmered as though stars themselves adorned her. her hands remained extended, palm up, though her posture was anything but open.

“the stars are willing to speak, you say?” her voice lilted with amusement, soft and melodic, though laced with something sharp beneath. “how convenient for you, zahra. they always seem to have just enough to keep people intrigued, don’t they?” she tilted her head, dark hair cascading over one shoulder like a waterfall of silk. her amethyst eyes, so renowned in the courts of dorne, locked onto zahra’s with an intensity that made lesser women falter.

as zahra’s hands traced hers, ruqaiyah feigned a contemplative expression, though her thoughts were less charitable. strength to lead? to endure? how utterly unoriginal. does she think this is what i wish to hear? she resisted the urge to snatch her hands away, opting instead to let her fingers twitch, an unsubtle display of impatience.

“great responsibility,” she repeated slowly, her tone a perfect mimicry of zahra’s gentle cadence. the girl then let out a cruel giggle, a jewelled hand resting upon her jawline as she looked upon the woman who sat across from her. such beauty, it woud be enough to turn her green someday. ruqaiyah’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments as zahra’s words settled into the air between them. “a decision that weighs on me?” she echoed, her tone deceptively light, though her fingers tensed slightly in zahra’s grasp.

her amethyst eyes narrowed, studying the seer with the intensity of someone probing for a hidden insult. does she think to pry into my betrothal? does she dare to insinuate that the choice is not already made? she resisted the urge to strike the seer that sat across the table from her. the thought rankled her more than she let show. ruqaiyah was a master of poise, after all, and the court of sunspear was no place for a crack in one’s armor. but still, zahra’s words lingered, needling her like a thorn caught beneath her flawless skin.

"what do you have in that empty head of yours?" ruqaiyah asked, her voice purposefully getting louder, as though she sought to embarrass her by ensuring others would hear their conversation. a fake, poisoned smile was still plastered over her glossed lips. "do you suggest that prince ravi would seek to marry another but me?" they were both stupid; zahra and that foolish sister of hers, that did not know how to take a joke. that did not know how to let go of her shawl.

lithe fingers tapped in her lap as she observed him shuffled the cards, a raise of her brows and grin as he kept his gaze upon her, knowing he, was at the very least, indulging her at this moment. despite the stony persona he seemed to have, there was something strangely comfortable in his presence. “always.” she responded, a mock look of surprise on his features that he would suggest there wasn’t. “there’s never a performance i have given that i didn’t think something could be better.” hand moved to tuck loose strands of chestnut hair behind her ear. eyes shifted up and she thought she caught his gaze, one that held a lot more to it than just simply looking upon her, almost as if he analyzing her.

she instead focused on the cards, observing as he continued to shuffle the deck in his hands. perhaps he believed little in what he held in his hands, but she knew the power that were held within the stars themselves, the answers they held to one’s true self, even if one never found such a thing in this life. “certainly you can understand, in some way. there must be something you wonder if you’ll ever perfect.”

perhaps not, but zahra would inquire anyways, enjoying the way such a thing could either cause one to think more deeply about themselves, or dismiss such an idea all together. she would find some insight with the cards, however, and as he handed her his selection, she moved to smoothly grab it, a smile on her face, dimpling her cheeks, as she turned it to face herself to read to him.

“well, well,” she teased, “karta - the emperor.” she used the fingers in one hand to turn the card to face him now, as if to prove that was what he drew. “you seek some economic endeavor, but be careful not to let your assertive nature become aggressive. now is a good time to pursue a strategic investment or risk.” zahra reached the remainder of the deck now. “perhaps you will find such an opportunity here in the reach. there are many other wealthy lords who may be interested in your business.” she insisted, though her tone gave way to the very fact she did not pay mind to such things. “you were once master of coin, weren’t you?”

꙰

there came a sense of confidence that came over the dancer of salt shore as she momentarily looked downward in shuffling the cards that remained within her hands, with a sense of excellency and swiftness one would see in the way warriors wielded their weapons; the sound of a scimitar must have felt the same as the rush of the cards being placed down to be played.

her gaze momentarily looked downward, strands of hair moving over her shoulders, and for a moment armaan found himself noting something distantly familiar about the way her features looked in the candelight - his brows furrowed momentarily, in a way that made it obvious he had noticed something, and nothing, all at once.

and then her gaze flickered up, and she no doubt caught him looking at her in such a way. "you know there is always room for improvement." he responded, his tone remaining cool and casual in response to the brightness of her own as he leaned forward to accept the cards she offered him: truthfully, he did not believe that these readings would be able to truly alter anything. he, the master of his own being, could alter his own life whenever he wished to - changing the plans of the gods and the stars all alike.

"are dancers never truly happy with their performances?" he asked, referencing the fact that they were artists at heart - dornish dance was a form of story telling, and included more than just movements that needed to be remembered. it was an ancient art and tale in itself.

he shuffled the cards, keeping his gaze upon her own to make it clear he was not attempting to cheat in anyway; there was no need to toy with such matters, especially when they meant nothing in the long run. what did armaan yronwood wish for? her words almost caused him to scoff, and as serious as his persona seemed to be, there was no denying the fact he was comfortable in this very moment: as seen in the way he reached forward to take the hookah from her and smoke it himself. armaan yronwood wished for power. he wished for wealth.

and for power and wealth, the security of his lineage needed to be made clear: he had not one heir, but two. twins of one another, born when the sun was at it's highest point of the sky. he selected the card, and handed it over to her wordlessly.

caramel colored hues brightened at the grin upon xia-li's face, no doubt glad to see an old friend again, but also glad to be more welcome company to the lady of the north. zahra's relaxed disposition seemed to fit perfectly with the free spirit that was the lady of fir hold. she did not know much of life in the north, other than simply visiting did not sound enticing in the least. the cold climate did not seem to suit the woman before her, who, in contrast, was warm as the dornish sun. "a wet sheep." she repeated, a laugh escaping her now. "well, something about mother's know best, but i might respectfully disagree."

hand took the others, no doubt a look of friendship to anyone who might gaze upon the two, and truly that is what their relationship was to it's core - kindred spirits who ebbed and flowed into one another's lives like the tide meets and recedes from the shore. "well, the people here are quite easily entertained if enough of the reach's finest red fills their belly's, i can say." zahra's experienced was not much more thrilling than the woman's before her, other than an evening spent dancing before some lord's and lady's, those who no doubt did not respect her craft as much as they did in dorne, but she danced nonetheless, because she enjoyed it.

"gods, i was going to say the same of you." zahra quipped. "home is the same, really." the dancer, however, did not pay much attention to political matters, or rather, she did not care to discuss them much. "and up north? i hope things are much better, now."

cavalier and cool demeanor is quick to melt around the dornish woman, lips quirking upward at the playful response shes given. there's little need for such an attitude when zahras in her presence, not when they've known each other in such ways that facades are impossible to keep up. "no need for flattery, qīń ài de. i believe it was my mother who told me i move with all the grace of a wet sheep and im inclined to believe her." chuckle laces through a humored admission. its true, she lacks the poise that her sisters possess and had she given as much of a care towards her status as she did conversing with the woman she lingers an acceptable distance from, it might have struck a nerve enough for change.

"the wine and the views are divine, i must admit. the people however," tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth, a signifier of her distaste for the forced company. chance to lounge in temperate weather was truly the only factor in her decision to willingly join her family in the reach. that, and the chance to cross paths with zahra once more. "let us say that your presence is a beacon of light in my dim experience. i have the gods to thank for the journey that brought you here. i've been feeling a bit deprived of dorne and all its delights." offers a hand that passerby might construe as friendly towards her. "walk with me, tell me all i've missed."

the dancer of salt shore sat with her back to the fire, her silhouette outlined in gold as she met her friend's gaze. she could feel the weight of the unspoken stretching between them, as tangible as the heat on her skin. myriam’s words hung in the air, sharp and deliberate, cutting through the quiet like a blade. she hadn't expected the evening to bring the weight of such a conversation, but looking at the babe sleeping soundly in the other's arms, she knew why myriam's heart pulled her towards a solution, towards peace.

zahra took a slow breath, her fingers brushing idly against the fabric of her tunic. “you’re right,” she said, her voice calm but threaded with something heavier. “volantis is a labyrinth of power plays and hidden motives. the wrong move could cost us more than we can afford.” she leaned forward slightly, her eyes reflecting the firelight. “but the right one… that could change everything.”

she leaned forward now, resting her elbows on her knees, her fingers loosely intertwined. the volantene woman—their mother—was a risk zahra couldn’t fully calculate. she had seen firsthand how that woman moved through the tangled web of politics, manipulating the threads to her advantage. bringing her into this could open doors, yes, but it could also pull them into her orbit, where trust was currency and loyalty a fleeting thing.

but myriam wouldn’t let this go. zahra knew her well enough to see the resolve beneath the questions, the quiet determination in the set of her jaw. if zahra tried to divert her, it would only deepen the cracks forming between them.

after a brief moment, she sighed, her eyes flickering back to the fire. "if memory serves me right, she seemed to be a favored paramour amongst them,” she said finally, her voice low but steady. “she sees more than most, and she knows how to use it. people like her… they deal in power, not kindness. if we involve her, we have to be prepared for the cost.”

her hands tightened slightly as she glanced at myriam. “but clarity is something we can’t afford to ignore. i’ll get her name,” zahra said, her tone carefully neutral. the fire popped again, sending a small burst of sparks into the air. zahra leaned back slightly, her face shadowed. not every door that opens should be walked through. the words formed in her mouth, but never made a sound, only uttered in her mind as the babe began to stir again. zahra used the moment to redirect the conversation, a hand reaching towards inaaya, fingertips gently brushing her hair.

"you did so well, myri-jaan. she's so beautiful." she looked up at her friend, now, her didi. "we'll find peace again, for her. for leila."

❂

the firelight danced across the polished floor, reflecting faintly in myriam’s wine-dark eyes as she listened to zahra speak. the comet burned in her mind, as vivid as it was in the sky, a reminder of both possibility and peril. a sign of change, she thought, her lips pressed into a thin line. but change for whom? and at what cost? zahra’s voice was steady, measured, but myriam could feel the tension threading beneath her words. there was something unspoken there, a careful avoidance that pricked at myriam’s senses. she had known zahra long enough to read her silences as well as her speech, and tonight they spoke louder than the fire between them.

or was she overthinking it? was she overthinking everything? did she just wish to appear as though she understood something of the greater political sphere?

“volantis is always complicated,” myriam said finally, her voice low but sharp, like the edge of a blade hidden in silk. “their alliances are as tangled as their politics, and their promises as slippery as sand through fingers. but you’re right. we cannot act rashly, not with so much at stake. our people are defending our order...perhaps even pushing into it.” she briefly remembered the conversation she and ryon wyl had so many months ago, where he had showed her a map. nightsong, had been circled. he wanted it.

“that volantene woman, the one with the bright eyes.” myriam repeated, glancing toward zahra, her expression thoughtful. “she was sharp, wasn’t she? shrewd. i remember thinking she could see through a person with just one look.” a faint smile ghosted across her lips, tinged with something darker. “but you’re right—people like her always have their own agendas. if we approach her, we do so carefully. no promises, no commitments.”

can she even be trusted? the question lingered in her mind like a stone in her gut. the volantene woman might have information they needed—routes, connections, whispers of plans across the sea—but myriam knew better than to believe help would come without a price. her fingers tightened slightly on the chair. “still… she may offer us clarity. even if not her help.”

but even as she spoke, myriam couldn’t shake the feeling that zahra knew more than she was saying. there was a distance in her friend tonight, a shadow of something hidden. what are you not telling me, zahra? the thought came unbidden, but myriam pushed it aside. there were already too many secrets between them—and too little trust to uncover them now. "can you get me her name?"

she were entirely flustered, that much was obvious just by taking one look upon the features of zahra sand's face. she had never been one that was good at hiding what she were truly feeling, a consequence of her art, where all feeling was expressed upon her face. now she cursed it, fighting the tears stinging at her eyes, agitated by the flushing of her cheeks as she walked away from such an encounter. zahra had never expected such a thing, and she had desperately wished her father did not make her aware of exactly who her mother was.

but he had, and now she had been seen by the woman as well. it were not a warm reunion, it were one that made zahra's veins entirely run cold, because she desperately did not want a certain secret revealed without it being uttered from her own lips. and she were not ready for such a thing, at least, not yet.

the dancer hoped the tense mood that lingered heavily in the air would provide the perfect excuse for her demeanor, but that plan was entirely thwarted when she were approached by halima, a woman she did not know entirely well, but could never quite place her mind, and that unsettled her. "i have been around." zahra stated, plainly. "i was with lady fowler, earlier." she added, almost as if to cover her tracks.

an excuse that was quickly dismissed by the revelation that she had been seen earlier. lips rolled in frustration as her arms crossed over her chest. "some courtesan of one of the volantene lords. i did not appreciate her rude demeanor during such a serious time."

it were a terrilble lie, because zahra hadn't a clue how to back that up, but she hoped halima would simply stop pressing.

closed starter for @dancingshores

halima knew what she saw, but what she had yet to figure out was how the pieces of the puzzle fit together. she had laid out the facts, examined them carefully, and still felt like there was something missing. that bothered her more that she let on.

what she knew was this: the volantene had arrived to bring justice for lord jordayne. in the midst of the lockdown, halima had stumbled upon a conversation she was not supposed to see, one she had watched from the shadows, unable to make out the word exchanged, but recognising that it was heated and private and something she should not be watching, and one of the parties involved in that conversation was stood before her now : zahra sand. she should have already told armaan of this, but something held her back. the fear of delivering incorrect information, something that hardly mattered at all, perhaps.

her head tilted, gaze unyielding as she took in the dancer, her mannerisms and natural expressions, so that she may note any changes to it should she choose to lie. "i don't think i've seen you since the volantene were here," her words were lazy, drawling.

"who was she?" there was an almost imperceptible shift to halima's demeanour, a hardening and sharpening as she prepared to cut to the heart of what she was after, with all the subtlety of a war-hammer. "the woman you were speaking with? seemed quite the emotional little chat."

♛ → DORNE present(s) ZAHRA SAND, the BASTARD of SALT SHORE. when the dragons danced in the sky they DID NOT CARE WHO would still fly, but in the blink of an eye, they would all die. the TWENTY-NINE year old CISFEMALE who was BOLD & GOOD-NATURED before they saw the first of the flames, is now NAIVE & RESTLESS after seeing the last. they’re often associated with the sound of bangles melodically shifting with her steps, a light sea breeze through dark tresses, a beaming smile that radiates like the stars. ( aditi rao hydari. )

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ADITI RAO HYDARI in Hey Sinamika (2022)