Aditi Rao Hydari In Heeramandi (Netflix, 2024)

setting: when the campus announces the alumni are snowed in for at least the foreseeable future, zahra, who is normally energized by socialization, finds herself a bit more agitated due to the presence of a certain someone who's she's found herself having complicated feelings for ; @myriamas

context: that someone is armaan lol

blizzard wear did not suit her, zahra preferred the garments she wore freely in california, the sun on her tan skinned golden rings upon her fingers shining in the sunlight instead of hidden by gloves. that alone, had already put her in a mood, but across the room with all the chatter, she caught glimpses of armaan yronwood, occassionally looking her way too, but also, towards a popstar in their midst.

she spotted myriam and quickly jumped up from her seat, whilst one of the bartenders wasn't looking she snagged a bottle of red and held it within the coat draped over her arm. "myri!" she called to the other, approaching her. "i need to talk, and drink, and talk. come with me?" she gestured to the wine grasped in her other hand.

ADITI RAO HYDARI in Hey Sinamika (2022)

Aditi Rao Hydari in Heeramandi (Netflix, 2024)

“my flowers?” she questioned, brows furrowing in confusion a moment before a grin spread over her lips. “do you mean those gawking reach lords?” zahra asked in clarification before laughter emitted from her, head shaking causing golden earrings to swing side to side. perhaps he mentioned them only because she had just earlier that evening been dancing before them, and if asked she would admit she enjoyed people watching her, whether gawking at her beauty, or enchanted by her dancing, it was certainly one of her vices, though she found little wrong in it. it seemed a natural reaction, even. "and why would you tell them such a thing? unless you believe that?" she questioned, a raise of her brow accompanying her inquiry, though she would hardly believe his answer even if he did think so.

eyes averted him for a moment at his remark, shifting the skirts of her golden lehenga as she adjusted her seat, tucking her legs to the side. certainly he did not mean the princess, did he? he spent more more time with the other than he ever had with zahra, but perhaps it could be settled as merely coincidental. "certainly there are other women in dorne who i resemble, sure." she brushed it off.

crossing her arms over her chest, she gave a look of disappointment. "well you chose the card." she insisted, a quick wink at the quip as she gestured to the cards again. "it is a simple reading, based on your intentions. the cards were right then, after all." her words held the semblance of a challenge, almost, having caught on to his likely disbelief in her small trade. "nothing is certain, not even the stars, it's meant to guide you. pick three more, if you wish to indulge me again."

hand came over her face as she realized her blunder, a slight flush of her cheeks in a moment of embarrassment, though the dancer had always managed to shrug off such things. she never paid good enough attention to remember what position belonged to who. "well, even more fitting, then." she insisted. "see? i knew nothing, the cards told me." zahra laughed.

꙰

the bloodroyal only looked upon her with a sense of ease as she looked back at him, raising her brows and adorning her features with a grin: there was no denying the fact that zahra sand of the salt shore was beautiful, in every way that a woman should be beautiful; he would feel easily able to believe her to be the most beautiful woman in all of dorne, merely from her physical appearance alone.

and yet still, there was some carefree and impulsive about her nature that only seemed to draw more in; and how she did, as exemplified by the fact her westerosi fans were clearly captivated. it was admittedly something he thought, laced with judgement and pride; that a dornish woman, should only be with a dornish man. it was they that could handle one another, and understand.

"i was tempted to tell your flowers you are below average compared to the other dancers in dorne." and despite it being a joke, the delivery remained unwavering and serious: not even a hint of a smile on his face to lighten the atmosphere between them. no, he liked the fact he could simply be as he was, and there was no lecturing of how he ought to be.

"you look like someone." he could not put his finger on who exactly, and yet, there was something of her features that reminded him of another face he saw. nobody of great importance or personal connection, nobody with memories. it made him only continue to look in her direction as she proclaimed proudly what card it was she had drew, and whilst he recognised it, he did not understand the entire concept of how this somehow related to him individually. "hardly specific, zahra. you speak of me and use what is generally known rather than something only the stars would know of."

and then came her question, which had a sense of great excitement; as though she had caught onto something great. a major piece of the puzzle. it made a low chuckle come from his lips as he stared at her, and then the chuckle grew louder. and louder. "i am master of coin."

the dancer of salt shore had spun about the room, chatting with other guests of the evening and dancing to practically every tune that had been played this evening. she was making her way back across the room when a familiar voice beckoned her to sit with them. turning to see devani toland, a grin crept upon her face. in truth, it mattered not where most nobles came from, whatever squabbles were between them were not necessarily under her radar. figure slid into the chair across from the woman and plucked a golden goblet from a passing tray to partake in drinking dornish red. from the flush of the woman's cheeks, she had already indulged in plenty that evening.

zahra did not enjoy being within the walls of the red keep, almost suffocating in which it was flooded with tresses of silver any which way one would look. she would not really pretend to be entirely alright, either. the death of the qamar of the tor had wounded her more than she allowed herself to process at this point. this night in particular felt heavier, though perhaps it were the full moon that shone brightly in the night sky. regardless, believed she simply needed to get through this visit, and when they were back in dorne she would float around aimlessly, for a while.

"something good?" she snorted, a hearty laughter escaping her, almost to the point of hysterics. "well, if you can avoid the valyrians," zahra leaned in, attempting to be quieter in those words, but failing entirely. "some of these nobles are actually alright." she shrugged, taking a long sip of her goblet now. "i even played a game of cards with a couple of lords, pompous as they were."

@dancingshores

"come and sit with me." there was an air of finality to devani's voice as she beckoned the other woman over. it wasn't her way to watch the room, to weigh up her options before engaging in conversation - once her attention was caught, devi acted upon it. "have a drink. nothing dampens the spirits more than drinking alone, no?" she gestured to a jug of dornish red she had commandeered.

she missed essos. dorne had not been her home for so long that she hardly even considered herself dornish anymore. she was a child of the sun and the sea, at home wherever she found herself. her blood ran hot, her passions hotter, and she followed every whim as it rose within her. those whims were telling her to flee once more, to go back to the life she had when she abandoned her homeland the first time.

and yet, here she remained.

she allowed a brief moment to settle, to drink, before launching back into conversation. "i've been away from dorne for too long. if i'd have known things were this bad, i'd have stayed longer." she laughed, the sound edged in something a little bitter. "tell me something good. i'm not sure my little heart can bear much more doom and gloom."

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.

the quiet of the corridor wrapped around them, the flicker of torchlight casting the two women in a dance of light and shadow. zahra’s steps were measured, slower than her usual lively gait, but her grip on ophelia’s arm was steady. her lips quirked upward as her friend recounted the story of the parrot, though her gaze lingered briefly on the cold stone wall.

“a parrot with an oldtown accent?” zahra’s voice, low and lilting, carried a trace of amusement. “now that’s a sight i wish i’d seen. perhaps it could take my place in court—i’m sure it would charm the nobles more effectively than I ever could.”

her laugh was soft, but her usual spark flickered beneath it, subdued. she let the other's words wash over her like a gentle tide, grounding her in the present moment. when ophelia squeezed her arm, zahra tilted her head, glancing at her with a warmth that only deepened as her friend’s stories continued.

“you have a talent, you know,” zahra said, her voice smoothing into something more contemplative as they walked. “for finding the extraordinary in the ordinary. it’s a rare gift.” her fingers brushed lightly against the cool wall, as if the action steadied her.

she exhaled, her smile softening. “tonight feels… heavier than most. but your stories—they remind me that not everything has to carry weight. sometimes it’s enough to simply walk, to laugh, to hear of clever birds and bold parrots.”

her lips curved into a conspiratorial grin as she leaned closer, her tone lighter now. “but i’ll hold you to that promise of a treat. once we’ve had our fill of this peace, we’ll find something more lively. dancing, wine, music—i’m not ready to let the night end quietly just yet.”

she paused mid-step, her expression softening as she turned to ophelia, her dark eyes glittering with newfound enthusiasm. “why don’t we go feed the birds?” she suggested, her voice taking on its usual lively cadence. “it’s quiet, it’s simple, and i’d bet you’ve a knack for charming them with all your tales. perhaps we’ll even spot this infamous fig thief.”

.

ophelia’s expression softened as she saw zahra’s faint smile, though the shadows and tension in her words didn’t escape her notice. the flicker of unease in her friend’s motions—the way her fingers lingered on the cold stone—was a language ophelia understood well. still, she didn’t press further. instead, she offered one of her radiant smiles, like the warmth of the sun breaking through a cloudy sky.

“i don’t know about grand revelations, but staring at walls does sound dreadfully dull,” she teased lightly, looping her arm through zahra’s as they began to walk. her steps were unhurried, her voice brightening as she spoke. her eyes glanced down the darken hallway then back to her friend “you know normally i would say let’s find somewhere with a bit more life to it but perhaps the quiet will do us some good”

she glanced over at zahra, her lips quirking into a small, conspiratorial grin. “and if i must provide the entertainment to keep your thoughts at bay, then you’re in for a treat! let’s see… oh! did i tell you about the time i saw that merchant parrot who actually talked? truly, zahra, he had the most delightful accent. he sounded like he was straight out of oldtown, if you can believe it. he was trying to sell spices, of all things. i nearly bought some just to keep him talking, but i got so distracted i walked away without buying anything!”

her laughter was soft but genuine, echoing faintly in the empty corridor. “and, oh! the birds in the water gardens have been terribly entertaining lately. one of them stole a fig right out of a servant’s hands yesterday. i swear it was cleverer than half the people in the great hall tonight.”

ophelia squeezed zahra’s arm gently, her voice softening as she added, “see? far removed from all of this. and if you’re lucky, i’ve got a dozen more ridiculous tales to share before we reach wherever we’re going. unless....is there something you would like to share?" she said gently not wanting to push her friend. she would happily jump back into telling her stories but she didn't want zahra to think she wasn't willing to listen.

Kinda in the mood to be carnally desired and intimately known

zahra let out a soft hum, her fingers tapping idly against her arm as she watched him. armaan yronwood was sharp edges and coiled ambition, speaking of fire as though he could shape it with his hands alone. she had met men like him before—restless, hungry, eager to set the world alight. but he was different too, wasn’t he? not just all flame and fury. there was something deliberate in the way he spoke, in the way he watched her.

and oh, how she loved to be watched.

“you think fire is simple?” she echoed, amusement curling at the edges of her voice. “fire dances, armaan. it flickers, it tempts, it shifts before you can ever quite catch it. you think you hold it in your palm, and then—” she snapped her fingers, a playful grin flashing across her lips. “gone.”

she stepped closer, just enough for the light to catch in her eyes. “but i think you know that already. i think you like the risk of it, the not-knowing. you want to see what will burn, what will survive. you want to test the limits.”

her gaze lifted past him for a fleeting moment, drawn to the distant windows, to the sky beyond. the stars were hidden behind the golden glow of the throne room, but she knew they were there, burning just as they always had. eternal. untouchable.

when she looked back, he was still watching her, still waiting. his hand remained outstretched. an invitation.

she let the moment linger, stretching the space between them like a cat playing with a ribbon. and then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she took his hand. not submission, not surrender—just curiosity, just a game she wasn’t finished playing.

“i’ll walk with you,” she murmured, her thumb brushing absently over his knuckles before she turned toward the door. “but do not mistake me for one of your flames, armaan.” a smirk ghosted her lips as she let him lead her forward. “i do not burn for just anyone.”

as they stepped out into the warm dornish night, zahra tilted her head back, her dark curls shifting as she sought the sky. and there they were—her stars. scattered across the heavens like specks of silver on black silk, steady and shining, uncaring of wars or whispers. a soft smile curled at the corners of her lips.

"ah, always so focused on what lies ahead," she mused, her voice soft, almost teasing. she turned her head, her gaze meeting his with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "i wonder, when was the last time you looked at the sky? not for what it could offer, but just for what it is?"

꙰

armaan yronwood’s lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile as zahra’s words wove their intricate web around him. her voice, smooth as silk, carried the weight of ancient wisdom and the intoxicating lure of chaos. he let the silence linger between them, the throne room’s warm light casting flickering shadows across their faces. the scent of burning incense mingled with the aroma of spiced wine, a heady mixture that seemed to amplify the tension in the air.

he let out a slow breath, his gaze steady and penetrating. “fire is fire, let's not complicate it with your poetry,” he began, his tone measured, as though each word was chosen with the utmost care. “it destroys, yes, but it also clears the way for new growth. sometimes, the old must be razed to the ground for the new to flourish. and sometimes,” he paused, a glint of something darker flashing in his eyes, “it is not about the harvest at all. it’s about the flame itself—the sheer, unrelenting power of it.”

he leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, though the intensity of his words remained. “great men must be the ones to set fire to the world, zahra. to watch it burn and to mould the ashes into something greater. it’s not enough to stand still and let the world turn around you. no, true greatness lies in seizing the reins of fate, in shaping the course of events, not merely reacting to them.” his gaze flickered to the doorway, the corners of his mouth curling in a subtle, almost predatory smile. the marches need defending, but more than that, they need to know where their strength lies.

the reach had grown complacent, and perhaps it’s time they were reminded of the fire that lies within dornish borders.

he straightened, the air around him shifting from contemplative to resolute. “i’m done with this conversation now,” he said, his tone carrying a finality that left little room for argument. yet, there was a spark of something else—an invitation, perhaps—in the way his eyes lingered on hers. he extended his hand, the gesture both commanding and expectant. “come walk with me, zahra. there’s more to discuss, about what is in front of us rather than whatever you are seeing in the sky.” he wanted her; he knew he wanted her. she knew he wanted her. he did not know why he was taking his time with it.