Zahra Didn’t Flinch At The Word Bastard. If Anything, Her Fingers Stilled On The Stone. Not In Shame,

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 in Heeramandi (Netflix, 2024)

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?” 

setting : the coronation events of jaehaerys ii, a pair of lords and unlikely third party play a game of cards together ; @nicholaslannisters @percival-templeton

the coronation events of the new valyrian king had been intriguing, to say the least, for the dancer of salt shore did not often find herself beyond the borders of dorne, unless she needed to be. though she was not necessarily needed here, she enjoyed the opportunity to see places outside of her own homeland - a kite drifting wherever the wind should take her. curious, hazel hues scanned the great room before her within the red keep, it was not quite obvious in the open, but not hidden away, either. tables were set up, with nobles sat around them playing various games.

zahra hadn't a clue what the rules of any of these games were, she saw dice thrown, cheers and jeers, laughter as wine seemed to flow through all of their veins. she tended to indulge in her curisosity, especially in such a, what seemed to be, relaxed environment. bangles rang as if they were signaling her approach as she stood near the table where only two lords sat with cards in hand, perhaps preferring the more intimate game, though she would inquire anyways. "is there room for another at this table, my lords?" lips pulled upwards into a friendly grin as she looked between the two, awaiting their response only a brief moment before taking the empty chair, anyways.

Cheppake Cheppake

  Mahasamudram (2021)

zahra leaned back against the stone wall, her long, dark braid spilling over her shoulder as she watched myriam cradle inaaya, her heart soaring at the sight, a mother who would split herself in two for the love of their child. the moonlight spilled softly through the open window, casting faint shadows across the room, but zahra's eyes were drawn to the purple comet hanging in the sky, a reminder that fate was never quite as distant as one might hope.

she exhaled slowly, her gaze steady as myriam voiced her worries. zahra had always been attuned to the undercurrents of the people—whether they were in the courtyards of the palaces or in the markets, their whispers always carried truths untold. the comet, the stirrings of marriage proposals, the alliance with volantis—it was all too much. too fast. too heavy.

"you are not drowning, myri," zahra said softly, her voice soothing despite the weight of the truth in it. "but you are being pulled under by the current. that’s the weight of leadership. it will try to drown you, to break you, but you will always rise again. you’ve done it before." a gentle hand went to touch the other's arm, a gesture to know that zahra would be there to see her through it, too.

she watched myriam as she rocked inaaya gently, her eyes filled with that familiar sorrow—the kind that came with decisions not of her making. “as for the comet… it brings change, yes, but we are not strangers to change. It is the nature of things.”

at the mention of Volantis and slavery, zahra’s face tightened for a moment. “the people," she repeatedly softly, her voice steady, “they speak of necessity. they do not like volantis or lys—no one truly does. but many see these alliances as the price for survival. they want peace, they want prosperity, and they believe the cost is small compared to what we might lose without them.”

eyes drifted out of the window again. "perhaps the comet is a sign, myri, a sign that change must be had. it is scary, but they will follow you." she looked to her friend now, her sister, "many trust you and your heart, and that is your power."

who: @dancingshores when and where: flashback to the hours after inaaya's birth, in starfall.

myriam sat up in bed, cradling inaaya in her arms. the purple comet had left an eerie glow in the night sky, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease it brought. “can you believe it? a comet...like giving birth wasn’t dramatic enough,” she muttered, glancing at her friend. it wasn’t just the comet or giving birth without baashir; it was everything.

the responsibility of being regent, the constant whispering about her remarriage, and the thought of volantis and their practices weighed heavily on her mind. seeing them leave did not bring her relief; for they would continue engaging with them.

“...i feel like i’m drowning in all this,” she admitted for the first time, her eyes fixed on inaaya’s peaceful face as she smoothened over the tuff of jet black hair. “i’m supposed to lead dorne, but..." she trailed off, not knowing how to finish her sentence. finish her words. also because she still felt a sharp, aching pain pain and felt herself bleeding, as she knew she would continue to do. she did not even feel as though she could enjoy the moment of having a new baby. not with all the stress.

“how the fuck can we ally with a place that supports slavery? it makes my skin crawl. how are we any different to them?” she looked back at zahra, searching for some sort of reassurance; uncharacteristically teary. by them, she meant new valyria.

she could feel the weight of her responsibilities pressing down even more. she knew she had to be strong, not just for herself, but for her daughters and for dorne. but for now, in the quiet of the night, she allowed herself a moment of doubt, hoping that tomorrow would bring some clarity. "they're too powerful an ally to lose but i just...i feel fake continuing to entertain it. the lyseni too."

"what are the people saying of it? be honest with me."

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.

there was an intriguing opposing force to the lord before her, who was so much her opposite, from their very demeanor, to many beliefs. it was almost a strange balance to converse with him regarding the stars, amongst other things, and zahra found herself compelled to understand more about the way he thought of things. in some way, she resonated with the perspective he held, despite the way zahra's optimism seeped from her, she was very aware that the world was not so kind, only that it were her best defense within it.

hazel hues watched as he prepared the shisha, the air already filled with the fragrant aroma from the coals lit before, it were hard to believe they were not in their own domain when this very room felt like home, in this moment. though if she looked closely at the decor around it, she would quickly realize it were not. hand reached for the goblet of arbor wine, finding it becoming more and more to her taste as she sipped the liquid within, allowing it to settle on her tongue a moment before swallowing.

the seer was an open-minded woman, as evidenced by her acceptance of the other's beliefs, despite clashing with her own. she did not expect everyone to see the stars and read the cards the way she did - and perhaps had life treated her differently she would've thought it foolish to lay ones fate based upon some planetary alignments at birth, based off some chance of pulling a specific card to detail one's life in that moment. his question made her think a moment, eyebrows pulling inward. "it's possible, but i would say it's not ideal to." she replied, setting her goblet back down on the table before her.

figure moved from sitting on the lush rug back to the velvet seat across from his own, still tucking her legs to the side, finding a relaxed position as she had before. "i don't think i'd be able to be unbiased with what i see." she added. "yes, well, that was a foolish lesson i certainly learned. as much as i enjoy it, it's difficult to deliver bad news, or even accept it." elbow propped up on the arm of the chair, chin resting in hand. "the tower is not one i usually care to see, but followed by the star?" zahra gave a sigh. "at least there's a light at the end."

his answer was brief and simple and yet zahra found herself further pulled by it, whether it was because she wasn't sure if he would answer at all, or if he would admit to having something he believed in. "fair enough." she responded, a hint of a smile on her features as the wheels fo her mind turned once again. "do you, perhaps, think rebirth is simply another chance, rather than a punishment?"

꙰

i hope to see it unfold for you. they were words that were uttered so calmly and casually, in the epitome of what it was to represent the milk and honey of human kindness: his gaze lingered over her features slightly in the aftermath of such words being uttered, almost as though his storm of a gaze was attempting to work out what it was she would get in return for such a belief. such a thing was a rarity, to see genuine human kindness was always enough to make him slowly pause in his process of thoughts - for whilst he believed himself beyond such capabilities, he had always held respect for those who maintained kindness in the hardest of times.

regardless of circumstance and past. he would defend the right of those to be kind should they wish to be, however unwillingly or unexpectedly he found himself doing so at times: armaan was of the understanding that not all had the same cards dealt to them in life - they were all different shades and hues, not only in their skin, but in their true self. whilst he held a great respect for those who maintained a firm grip on kindness in their lives, he always maintained that there was a time and place for such things - for there were times where kindness could prove to only disadvantage and undermine.

such was the tragic nature of his position; it was all too well to idealise the concept of kindness, but where did it fit in a world such as their own? when she maintained that she would have no issue in remaining, he merely nodded; he would not take to his bed anytime soon, and would have no issue in staying awake. and he wanted to stay awake. "do you ever draw your own cards?" he asked, a genuine sense of curiosity coming over him as he looked over at her, moving to the other side of the room to organise for another hookah to be brought up, alongside the coals and the splint that was needed to light it. "or does that go against the conduct of seers?"

he set it up with a sense of ease, rolling the sleeves of his black kurta up to his forearms as he did so to ensure it did not catch and end up igniting him, listening as she spoke to him of her altercation with a sailor. people did not like hearing what it was that unsettled them, even if they had asked; and sailors were known to be rough in their nature. his brow furrowed ever so slightly, extending the new pipe to her - this time there were two. "none would wish to see the ten of swords. but if one asks for it, they have dug their grave." he spoke, sitting back down opposite her now; leaning backward to rest his back against the recliner. "and do you try to avoid thinking of it as you pass on the news?" he asked; considering she was the bearer of such awful news to those who had sought guidance from the stars.

at her question, his brows raised slightly - perhaps because he had not been expecting a question based on his own beliefs. what was it armaan yronwood looked at for guidance? he did not remember the last time he had genuinely asked for guidance from the gods; that was not to mean he did not worship or believe in them. he valued them, and worshipped them for their sovereignty. "the seven who are one." he responded, his tone almost anticlimactic. "we are bound to be reborn, until the gods decide we have done enough to join them in the heavens. no punishment that is not another life in itself."

slender fingers let the parchment that hazel hues had just scanned over roll back into the position in which is was given to her, the smooth paper being placed upon a table near the doors of her chamber. there was quiet instruction to the pageboy awaiting outside her doors, an indication of her acceptance of such an invitation. a feeling of satisfaction came over her, though such parchment did not come entirely as a surprise, truth be told. it was not the words they spoke earlier in the evening that gave way to her intuition, rather, the tone that hung over them the entirety of their conversation.

adorned in the same golden lehenga, the soft sound of clinking anklets could be heard as she made her way down the hall of the wing set aside for the dornish court within highgarden. though the hour was late, and the hall mostly quiet, few others passed her on her way to the lord of yronwood’s chambers. hazel orbs seemed to fixate on the path in front of her, a habit she often found herself taking to within her very art - for when she had her mind set to one thing, it would take much to stop her.

a shimmer of gold approached the large oak doors, and after a quick knock she was let within the room. chestnut waves swayed back and forth as she entered, the very steps she took almost giving way to the natural rhythm of her body. her lips tugged upwards in a smile now. though her features remained playful as they ever were, there now held some predatory look within her eyes, the slightest dilation of one’s pupils as she looked upon the lord now, but one would need to be close to notice such a thing.

it begged the question of whether she was the predator, or the prey - something she had wondered earlier in the evening, and perhaps fell into being the latter given she had waltzed into his trap. though she were not some meek mouse in the clutches of a feline. there was enough of a hint in her eyes that indicated she, too, could be the cat, though she would not say he were the mouse, either.

thoughts played in her mind as she stepped further in, though still some paces from the other. the slight tilt of her head causing dark tresses to pour to one side of her shoulder, framing the same side of her face. “armaan.” she spoke now, his name rolling off of her tongue as a coy smile played upon her features, a slight dimple appearing upon her cheek. “kya aap chaahate hain ki main aapako in kakshon kee seema ke bheetar bulaoon?" ( is that what you wish me to call you within the confines of these chambers? ) a drop in formalities, his letter implied. it seemed clear there was no need for them here.

who: @dancingshores what: a note sent to zahra sand following armaan's departure from the wedding festivities of king cedric tyrell and lady illya oakheart. this is set following their interaction, currently in thread form.

Send a page before you make your way to my bedchambers.

The guards will know you are coming.

Keep the gold lehenga on.

Armaan

misunderstanding was certainly one way to put it. zahra was not quite sure if she would use the same word, but she understood there was little other way to describe what had occurred without being entirely gruesome. the dancer of salt shore had experienced many different stages of life, with various emotions to associate with them, but she had never felt such a weight of sorrow and anger as she did now. it was almost smothering and she greatly disliked it. she had no idea the impact that rashid had had on her until it was too late, far too late.

and now there was to be justice, but if the other party would not honor their customs, what could be done? would dorne war with the volantene in order to find the answers they sought? zahra, truthfully, hadn't a clue what the next steps were, she hardly knew what occurred when things went right, and it were very clear that things were going very, very wrong.

and so, she made herself smaller, hopefully unnoticed, unable to keep from glancing to a woman in particular in the room. ophelia's presence was welcome, if to give her something to keep her mind off of what was happening around them, even briefly. "i'm just tired." she admitted, and that were certainly part of the truth, for she did not sleep well these days. and suddenly she wondered if the lady before her might be able to help in that matter, at least. "actually, do you have any remedies for such a thing?" she inquired. "a hot chai only does so much good, surprisingly.

hues looked around them, perhaps hoping that she would look up and suddenly everything would be back to normal again. but it were not so easy. "i'm afraid of what it will take to reach an understanding." she admitted, as debates between both parties seemed to become passionate.

.

there was a tension in the air of the dornish court. all of them were tip toeing around their new guests and the new announcement given. all of them were already on edge after a loss of someone so important. a man who wanted peace, who wanted to bring the court together and make the lives of everyone better. it seemed more than cruel to have him taken from them so soon. 

now justice wasnt even being given but a swift execution. that would help no one. none of them would be any closer to finding out what happened if it went this way.

ophelia weaved in an out of the crowds unsure of where to go or whom to speak with. she flittered between her guardian, armaan, and other trusted people at the court. she felt uneased by what was happening and like most she was not her normal cheerfu and talkative self

she glanced over to see who had bumped into her when she saw zahara. “no apologies needed.” she said, offering her a small but kind smile. “i too am feeling very uneasy about this whole thing. it seemed they do not want to have any room for discussion at all on this.” she said glancing around the room. “but i have faith we will find a way to come to an agreement or a way through this…misunderstanding.” ophelia said trying to keep on the lighter side of things. trying to keep her thoughts positive.

“forgive me for asking if this is out of line but, are you alright?” she asked her, her voice low as they walked towards the edge of the crowd. “a habit from the sand sages, to survey everyone. i couldn’t help but notice you seem…distracted? or at least a little worried about something more than what is happening.”