The Warm Hum Of Conversation And Music Around Them Felt Distant As Zahra Faced Ruqaiyah, Her Words Cutting

TRUTH SERUM

feel free to ask anything, in character or anonymously, and my character will be forced to answer truthfully.

Send a question to:

zahra | katherine | ayca | laena | mari | saella | rhys | matilda | ravi

zahra gave a slight pout because mango is her favorite and she isn’t sure how she missed the cheesecake, but that wasn’t important right now. a hand goes to pat myri’s arm linked in hers, the two looking like the inseparable pair they had always been. "i mean, it’s just strange where it ended up, you know? maybe some creepy staff member." zahra pondered as she scrunches her nose, no one gave that vibe, but she wondered if they were starstruck by many of the guests they couldn’t resist

"thank gods." she sighed with relief, a grin spreading over her features and she shook her head in return. "nope, not at all. though if this heater blows any hotter i think i’ll start to melt." she fanned herself with her free hand, but then she paused and gave myriam a look, suggesting she jokingly disapproved of her initial guesses. "no, not them. i wouldn’t think twice about either of those guys." she had a type, it were obvious, but they never had her attention for so long to deserve her distress or tears.

zahra closes the door behind them, moving to hop on to sit on the teachers desk, setting the bottle next to her a moment. "hmm, not that i know of, i should probably check." she moves to unscrew the top, thankful she did not grab a corked bottle, taking a swig, because she did not grab glasses "armaan. did you see what he was wearing tonight?" it were nothing particularly special, only the sleeves of his shirt hugged her biceps particularly well, which only brought her back to the day it were clear there was some vibe, one she never put her finger on.

"did you ask anyone if they maybe found your phone somewhere? i still think that’s super weird." she asked, deflecting on the topic now.

"uhhh, yeah there was some. they went out relatively quick though, had to wipe the sauce from my phone." and her arm linked through zahras, quietly leaning forward to rest on her friends shoulder, quietly seeking out some kind of comfort from her best friend without ever speaking on it. "you don't think someone would've taken it, do you? what would they have been trying to even find?" and she knows she's being paranoid. who would try to go through her phone? why? and she giggled lightly as zahra asked if she were sweaty, shooting her a funny expression - with raised brows, before shaking her head.

"nah, nah you're not sweaty. am i sweaty, because the laps ive been doing...i wouldn't be surprised."

and she quietly adjusts her bra as they walked, glancing sideways at zahra again as she tried to work out what was going on. who could have been that got her this flustered? "it better not be percival templeton or that cedric tyrell. i know you love yourself a white man but...it's not them, is it?" and armaan never crosses her mind, because she doesn't think its anything that'll cause zahra stress or panic. or to become flustered. they were just them, you know? they were the way they always were. "...did someone ask for your number that shouldn't have? is he married?"

zahra paused mid-step as ser percival templeton appeared before her, his voice cutting through the warm, wine-sweet air of the great tent. the evening hummed around them, thick with the smell of roasting meats and the sharp tang of woodsmoke curling from the braziers. laughter pealed off in one corner where knights jostled shoulders, but here, the space between them felt quieter. thinner.

she turned toward him with a slow, easy smile, the kind meant to disarm rather than challenge. “a surprise?” she echoed lightly, the corners of her mouth tugging higher. “then i must be doing something right.”

her silks shifted as she moved, colors catching the firelight like the inside of a jewel box. she let him look, not flaunting, just unbothered, before her gaze flicked back to his with a spark of quiet humor.

“we hunt in dorne,” she said, tilting her head as if pondering. “but the beasts we chase tend to have sharper tongues than teeth.” her bracelets slid down her wrist with a soft jingle as she lifted her hand, as if brushing away some unseen dust. “still, a change of scenery is good for the soul... and the wit.”

she did not correct him. not yet. if he wanted to call her lady zahra, she would let him. the truth could wait until it was more amusing to reveal.

“your invitation reached farther than you might have guessed,” she said. “and i found myself... curious.” she let the word linger, almost lazy. “besides, there are worse places to be trapped with strangers and wine.” zahra leaned in a fraction, her voice lowering just enough to be heard over the din. “and i thought perhaps you owed me a rematch.”

she stepped back with a glimmer of laughter in her eyes, letting the scent of cardamom and leather trail after her. “shall we see if the knight of ninestars has grown any luckier?”

Closed starter for @dancingshores Setting: Semi-flashback, set during the hunting expedition in Ninestars. Percival opened the invitation to nobles, royals, and courtiers from all over Westeros in hopes of making opportune connections for himself and his family (And frankly, he wasn't actually expecting Dornish folk to attend).

The great tent was humming with the low murmur of voices, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter and the clatter of goblets against the tables. Outside, the air was getting crisper and colder as the evening began to settle. It had been a great first day of the hunt, and some conversations the Knight of Ninestars had through the day settled the true purpose of the hunt. Not the chase of wild beast, not the skill to kill, but the connections and the maneuvering that came with it.

Percival Templeton sat at the head of one of the long tables, his posture composed despite the aches left by the day’s ride. The scars from the dragon's burns had healed, but some of the echoes of such pain still remained. His cup of wine was cradled loosely in his hand, though he had barely touched it, his attention instead drifting across the gathering. He took stock of who had attended, who had made their presence known, and who had taken the opportunity to ingratiate themselves. And then, his gaze landed on her as she walked.

The Dornish woman was draped in colorful silks, carrying herself as someone accustomed to being seen. Percival remembered her. How could he not recall such a face? He had played cards with her and the Lannister months ago, in a smoke-filled chamber during the dragon king's coronation celebrations. It had been her who had walked away with more coin than she arrived with. The Commander had not thought much of the Dornish lady then, but the difference now was that she was here at his hunt, eating his food and drinking his wine, and he wanted to know why.

The Knight of Ninestars took a slow sip from his cup before he got up from his seat and made his way to the woman. “I did not think the Dornish had as much love for hunting as we do in the Vale. But perhaps I misjudged,” he spoke as he appeared on her way. His gaze lingered, measured. She was a long way from home. “It is a surprise to see you again, Lady Zahra,” the lord added, offering a polite nod to her.

truth serum "how did you learn what it truly meant to be a bastard?"

"when i realized that i wouldn't be upheld to the constraints of higher society." zahra shrugged, for sure rather liked her life the way it was. "truthfully, as a young girl, it became far more apparent when talks of marriage came for my sister and not for me. it used to bother me, not anymore." perhaps it is why the bastard of salt shore had constructed her life to fit something else entirely, so that way it would be more desirable in her mind than having a title.

the melodic sound of anklets jingling echoed quietly within the great halls of sunspear, a place that she had found herself wandering in and out of in more recent months as she had become a teacher to the very heir of dorne herself, an achievement she would've only imagined acquiring years ago. while the dancer of salt shore had many privileges in her life, for a bastard, zahra had worked tirelessly to secure her own name and her own way in this life. it was, perhaps, the most important thing to her, was her fierce sense of independence and self-reliance.

her mind wandered now, knowing that, while her perseverance had been crucial, it had been her time spent in the tor that had seen her greatest period of growth in her skill - not in just dancing. she found herself now quietly humming the tune that had played during practice, her feet practically floating upon the very floor itself as a hand moved to the beat of the music that played only in her own head. she had a way of immersing herself so much in the dance and music, that the world around her seemed to fade away. though singing and acting had consumed much of her time as well while she was in the tor, it was always dancing that had held her greatest interest.

as dark hues looked at the pattern the suns rays made upon the floor now as it illuminated through the many grand windows that were lined together, she felt a sense of bittersweetness come over her. how that time in her life probably halted her wandering feet for the longest she had stayed in one place in quite a while, and perhaps it only pushed her to further fly away before she ever settled anywhere. there was no anger, but peace as her mind settled back down on the thoughts of her time there. her time with him.

her thoughts seemed to will the image of rashid jordayne to appear now, and though she thought she imagined him entirely, he was there, just some paces away from her. she hadn't even noticed him at first, or perhaps she did and didn't realize it until now. the ever-expressive face of zahra sand did not hide what lurked within her mind, and right now it was surprise. surprise that he was there, despite the fact he had ever reason to be. her feet paused now. paused. in times past they would fly towards the man before her, but now they halted all together.

the shock wore off after a few beats of silence and her features stilled entirely, he had clearly noticed her, too. what was one to say to fill the years lost between two souls? there was no animosity between them, only a connection lost after they parted ways. certainly there were times where they were in the same vicinity, but yet worlds away.

a warm smile naturally crept on her lips now, for zahra was never one to sit in silence for very long. "rashid." she said, for she could not think of any other greeting that would suit the situation as of now. she wanted to ask him many questions, but she wouldn't. she didn't need to. she opened her mouth again to speak, but the words did not come as quickly as she expected, leaving a woman who was always found loudly conversing or laughing within a group, unusually silent.

a few more beats passed before she finally thought of one thing to say. "i....heard of your marriage to the princess loreza, congratulations." there was a genuine tone in her words, for zahra knew what rashid had yearned for, or one of the many things, and certainly the princess would make a fine ruling lady of the tor.

who: @dancingshores when and where: following zahra sand's audience with the princess myriam of house allyrion, rashid jordayne comes across a memory in the hallways of sunspear.

it was not often rashid qamar of house jordayne thought of midnight: it was not often the man was even awake to see midnight, if not attending formal events within the great domed mirrored halls of sunspear's fortress, and it was not often the man thought of the moon he had been named after. there was once a time in his life where he and midnight were old friends, companions even; as though the middle of the night was the middle of the day, for that was when the sun seemed the most like she shined. it was not often rashid qamar of house jordayne thought of rain; those ancient ancestors before them learning to survive with what little of it there was, and that still meant he was unable to deny the beauty of the first rain of the harvest.

rare as it was, and yet, most things that truly mattered in life were incredibly rare, were they not?

the transition into lordship was one he had undertaken some years ago, following the slow and painful death of a father that deserved so much better than the end that was given to him. visiting him day after day to see his immobile condition only worsen was enough to stir and swirl what peace the man seemed to hold within his own chest, locked up under secret lock and key; his transition to lordship came with carrying the heavy burden of grief, as the transition does to all who take the mantle. it had taken him time to understand how to grieve for someone who continued to live. and live, and live, and live, as she had always done; swirling skirts and the sounds of laughter ringing from atop a stage, or the time her ankle twisted and he found himself needing to carry her on his own back.

it made him realise there was no grieving for what could have been; only acceptance. for the what if remained very much alive.

it was that same acceptance he knew all too well as he walked the halls of sunspear following a conversation with the soon to be future ruling prince, if rumours were correct, considering the movements he would make as a lord. he thought of how he wanted to be remembered, knowing the genuine weight of his actions: he was not a man who spoke for the sake of speaking. he was not a man who did not consider all options deeply, before settling. but he was a man who followed through on his word: it could bloom, or it could rip away what there could never be. that same feeling of acceptance seemed to slowly wash over him as he looked up within bustling halls, filled with such a stark variety of colours: and yet still, his eyes immediately fell to her.

her face remained the same. her walk remained the same. there was a time where it was he that was too much the same, and now he felt as though he were changing; only to look upon her and see she truly was just the same. as though she remained entirely where they had left one another, a part of him almost went to look at her ankle to wonder whether she were able to walk on it properly now. there were no words that came out of his mouth, though he felt a slight exhale come out of him; so subtle it was hard to notice. once he held his breath when he saw her, and felt a thudding deep within his heart - and now? now he exhaled.

it was relief he felt in her presence. what words were there that could even be echoed within such a time, when it had been years and somehow felt like it had not all at the very same time?

he said nothing. he didn't need to.

Aditi Rao Hydari - Tarun Vishwa (2022)

zahra’s gaze lingered on myriam as she spoke, her voice raw, her vulnerability laid bare in the flickering firelight. the weight of her words hung in the room like a heavy curtain, but zahra let the silence settle before speaking. she leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped loosely in her lap, the calm she projected at odds with the churn of emotions beneath the surface.

“you’ve been through more than anyone should, myri,” she said softly, her voice as gentle as a lullaby. “you’ve carried so much on your shoulders, and you’re still standing. that alone is a testament to your strength.” she reached out, her fingers brushing against myriam’s arm in a gesture that was steadying but unobtrusive. “but you don’t have to do it alone. no one expects you to have all the answers, not even the stars are always clear.”

her eyes shifted to the baby nestled in myriam’s arms. “inaaya is proof of something bigger than court politics or strategies. she and leila are reminders of why we endure all this—the alliances, the games, the endless calculations. it’s for the world we want them to live in. and you are shaping that world, even if it feels like chaos now.”

zahra paused, her gaze returning to myriam’s face. “as for the volantene woman,” she said, her tone measured, “she’s a risk, yes, but sometimes risks are necessary. you’re right—she could be a thread that leads to something greater. and if you want, i’ll help you untangle her. i’ll speak with her, test her motives, and see what she might offer. together, we can make sure she doesn’t become a threat.” her heart pattered rapidly in her chest, but she would place herself in such a position for myriam's sake.

the fire crackled softly behind them, its warmth filling the space between zahra’s words. “but for now, myri,” Zahra continued, her voice dropping to a near whisper, “take a moment. just breathe. the weight will still be here tomorrow, but tonight, inaaya needs her mother to hold her, and you need to let yourself rest. let me carry some of this with you. you don’t have to trust everyone—but you can trust me.”

her smile was small, but it held a quiet determination.

❂

myriam tightened her hold on inaaya, her fingers brushing over the baby’s soft hair as zahra’s words sank in. the fire crackled in the hearth, casting wavering shadows over the room, and for a moment, myriam let herself get lost in their dance. she didn’t respond immediately, her thoughts pulling her in a dozen different directions. "of my making," she echoed finally, her voice quiet, almost brittle. “i’ve heard those words before. from baashir, from courtiers, even from myself when i’ve tried to convince myself i belong here.” she shook her head, a bitter laugh slipping out.

“but what kind of world am i shaping when i don’t even know where my fucking footing is?”

her gaze dropped to inaaya, the baby’s soft breathing a steady rhythm in her arms. “i sit in that hall, i listen to them speak of dorne like i understand every nuance, every geographic position, all talk defence, every alliance that spans back generations. but i don’t. and they know it.” her thoughts churned, dragging her back to the endless days spent listening to debates that seemed both urgent and incomprehensible. and how she tried to keep up, but she simply could not.

“i rely too much on others—on baashir, on the courtiers, even on you. it is shameful, for a leader. we spoke of mors being weak, and now what?" she rested her hand upon her forehead, momentarily resting upon it; but in reality she briefly leaned her head downward to avoid continued eye contact with zahra, knowing it would somehow bring her to floods of tears. the exhaustion, the bleeding from between her thighs, and the sense of feeling utterly alone. "i'd give it all to ravi, if that was enough...but i trust none with my daughter. i trust none." she repeated, her voice becoming all but strained as she shifted in her bed.

all because she had a single conversation with the dragon king, that ended in madness. it were all but spit in her face. the firelight caught the edge of a tear as it welled in her eye, but she blinked it away, forcing herself to steady. “i don’t know how to be what they expect of me."

she looked up at zahra, her expression raw and unguarded in a way she rarely let herself show. there was not a single crumb of confidence or sultriness, but rather for a split moment, it appeared as though a girl freshly turned eight and ten held a baby to her chest. “and now there’s this volantene woman. dangerous, you said. poison wrapped in silk. it sounds like the kind of game i should be able to play, doesn’t it?” she let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “i've got a feeling about her. i don't know what, but....i think she's a start. even if that start goes no place, i'll obtain connections and names from her. doran uller can do it.” her mind began to move quickly.

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.

zahra offered a smile to the person xia-li was conversing with before they departed, no doubt realizing the northern woman's interest had been long lost, and now shifted to the dornish dancer. she felt for xia-li in that moment, not quite sure what it was like to feel it necessary to maintain such relationships, to have to consider a lifetime partnership in every unmarried lord she might cross paths with. zahra did not necessarily think a lifetime with someone was impossible, but it was also not a thing she had to worry for for the sake of her family.

"none who can keep rhythm as well as you do." she offered a wink to the other, enjoying the little phrasing game that came between them whenever their paths crossed. she found the other woman to be captivating in more ways than tangled up in silks, so regardless of what their visits entailed, zahra knew she would always enjoy them,

she practically glided towards the other woman now to close more distance between the two so their conversation may be more private to any wandering ears nearby. one arm crossed over her chest while another hand reached up to her neck, finger mindlessly running back and forth through the golden chain and pendant around her neck. "how have you been liking highgarden? a visit to check off of your list?"

taste of bittersweet wine lingers long after xia-li's taken the last sip. it's the only thing keeping her focused on the conversation she'd been caught in the middle of and even then, bored gaze still manages to drift off towards the scenery that surrounded the reach. how far must she go to find respite from the droning of marriages and gossip of nobility she's barely familiar? is this what her brother expects her to suffer through for the sake of reputation?

she's hardly ready to accept that harsh reality and it's no one's fault except her own. had she refrained from pleading for any modicum of adventure she could find, she might have been content settling. this simply won't do. not when she's seen the marketplaces in yi ti, bustling with culture and life. or the golden shores of dorne where warm water is ready to envelop her and every worry that she allows to creep into her subconscious. she feels so restricted while in the presence people who should feel like kin and spends time wishing she could forge her own way to one of the places she cherishes more than most.

one of many reasons makes their presence known, voice like warm honey gracing the ladies attention. it's been a while since she spoken with zahra, experienced her, and xia-li is quick to abandon her previous conversation for one that elicits actual excitement. "it's been too long, sweet zahra. far too long." grin is returned with one of her own, laziness of it not nearly capturing the entirety of the lady's happiness. "have you missed me as much as i have you? or have you found new partners to share your dances with?" jest made with little seriousness. they both moved as the wind did, and the freedom between them keeps her affections for the woman at the forefront.

@xialigreenleaf

Their friendship was as intense as it was sudden. They found relief in each other’s personality.

Toni Morrison, from ‘Sula’