★

★

ruqaiyah’s glossy lips twisted into a sneer, the pastel pink gloss catching the light as she snatched the mask from devani’s hand. “oh, how generous of you, devani,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. she only went on to toss it behind her shoulder, not caring if it went straight into another's path - and it definitely had, by the sounds of the exclamation and swearing behind her.

“i suppose it’s easy to give away things you don’t need. after all, you’ve always been so good at discarding things, haven’t you?” and that was the catch to the immaturity that seemed to swirl within the lady of starfall, those whispered to be the grace of the evening - she was unable to seem like she did not care. she was unable to put on a nonchalant swagger to her words; but rather, every word was filled with venom.

she rolled her eyes dramatically, making sure her disdain was evident. “as for charging me by the insult, darling, you’d be wealthier than a lannister by now. and we all know your current situation; why else would your brother try to take safeerah's home?” ruqaiyah’s voice was sharp, her words intended to sting. she couldn’t help but keep pushing, the bitterness of their past still fresh in her mind.

"begging suits you. for attention, maybe even more so for coin."

devani’s laughter only fueled ruqaiyah’s annoyance. “oh, yes, it’s all terribly amusing, isn’t it? chikankari, how quaint. you always did have a knack for finding humor in the most inappropriate moments.” ruqaiyah’s posture remained regal despite the venom in her words as she flipped her perfumed thick silky hair, aiming for it to smack devani - and it did.

"what is it you want from all this begging?" she asked, tilting her head and getting into her usual characteristic bitchy stance. "why do you want my attention so much, hm?"

"you never had any complaints before." her eyes rolled. "you ought to be careful, ru. i might start charging you by the insult one of these days, and you've already racked up quite a debt." it was near predictable, the way ruqaiyah would bite back to the annoyance that was devani, yet she could not help herself. it was as though something in her compelled her to keep needling, keep pushing, to prove that she could still stir in her a reaction.

it was why she clutched on to the mask, despite ruqaiyah's attempts to snatch it back, as though they were toddler children and not two grown women of dorne. mischief danced in her expression - devani cared little for what those in dorne thought of her, but she knew that ruqaiyah did. did she even realise she was making a show of herself, over a mask of all things? or did her hatred for devani outweigh that need to be perfect?

"shame?" for the first time, confusion flitted over her face. what had she to be ashamed of? plenty, she supposed, though she felt it very little, but she did not know what it was ruqaiyah referred to this time.

devani put it from her mind as ruqaiyah stepped closer, one hand leaving the mask to close around her wrist. "if i'm going into the fountain, you're coming with me. choice is yours." the corners of her mouth quirked upwards. she was not sure that she meant that she would drag ruqaiyah down with her, nor whether or not ruqaiyah would call her bluff.

"yes. you're correct. i've been following you for hours, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. however did you guess?" it was an outlandish theory, and yet, there was a truth to ruqaiyah's words that devani would not touch. she had wanted to be first, once, and ruqaiyah would have let her. if only devani had done the one thing she knew she never could have - if she had stayed.

she brushed the thought aside, staring at ru's tantrum for a moment, hand pressed to her mouth to hide her laughter. had she truly just stomped her foot? "o-oh dear," her voice was shaky, not quite able to keep steady where giggles threatened to escape her. "chikankari. how upsetting." there was feigned disappointment in her tone. "what a pity."

she removed her own mask then, holding it out to ruqaiyah. "here. if you are so desperate to hide behind a mask, take mine. i don't need it, anyway."

★

"arrogant? no, it is delusional. she is a mad woman." she took another puff of her smoke, knowing she would need to bask herself in the strongest of scents for family dinner later. baashir was already on edge having seen an apparent imaginary orange glow coming from her balcony window. "i'd have slammed the gates shut in her face and ensure dust got into her eyes." there was a slight scoff that came from her lips, not aimed at safeerah, but rather at the idea that devani would get help from her.

"especially in the aftermath of what her disgusting brother done." no, even if she had come to starfall first, she would have been left to stand in the dust - ruqaiyah was sure of it. not once did the narcissistic grace of the evening consider that devani would know such a thing, and that could have been a reason why she ventured to hellholt. "you know, she speaks of her brother, we all speak of aditya toland, but i don't think they are that different. house of jesters. if ghost hill goes to her, don't trust her." her words were with good intention, and yet, they were detached from the reality of what safeerah would need to do to secure safety for the tor.

there was a peculiar possessiveness ruqaiyah felt for safeerah jordayne; the same way a toddler refused to share her toys, ruqaiyah also detested the idea of anyone else being as close to safeerah as she was. not once had she considered this was a toxic mindset to adopt, instead she seemed to glorify it in her own mind, as though this made her even better of a friend. any issue she held was their issue, and she would have no issue in dealing with it in ways that saf herself would not.

"auntie doesn't deserve this, neither of you do. why is it always the good people that suffer?" she puffed out smoke again, careful to do it away from the direction of safeerah as she knew she did not like it; they were different, but she knew there were certain things she would not do to upset her friend. her sister. the tor deserved security, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought of the scene of rashid jordayne's funeral. the pyre, and the scattering of his ashes within the water. the memory was enough to cause her to feel a sense of pain, wallowing up in the back of her throat.

"why even bother going for trial? just get baashir to cut him down, or maybe he can hold him down whilst you do it." the second part of her suggestion was merely a joke, and yet, a part of her caught lady jordayne's gaze - as though she wondered whether she had it in her. she then watched as safeerah took her hand and held her gaze, always comforting, always grounding. she was ruqaiyah dayne. she was ruqaiyah dayne. she could do it, and so, she squeezed saf's hand. "i'll get halima to make sure other women stay away from him, at least until we get married. see, us ladies have our battle tactics too."

"once you've gotten your revenge justice, i'll help you find a good husband." the blend of revenge and justice was intentional, and for a reason; she was sure it was both. it had to be both?

safeerah could not judge her cousin for her reaction to seeing devani toland again. she knew there was true pain hidden behind the venom that had dripped from her lips. “i suppose it was quite funny when you called her devina.” she was in no mood to defend devani. she knew what the woman had done to ruqaiyah, what her brother had done to her own sister. “it is arrogant of her to think she can just return and rejoin society as no time has passed.” the tolands had heads bigger than they had any right to. saf never liked that trait in others. she did see it in ru from time to time, but she also knew there were other sides to her friend. saf saw the quick emotion pass on her face as she mentioned dante. “what would you have done if she had gone to you first? if she had showed up outside your door?” there was a fine line between prying and supporting. she knew ruqaiyah would simply wave her off if she did not wish to answer.

she felt a shiver run down her spine as the trial was mentioned. it was something she sometimes dreamed about at night, half a dream and half a nightmare. she did not answer if she wished for bash to be the one to fight if it ended in a trial by combat. she knew that bash could do it, that he would do it, but it weighed on her to ask. “you ask questions i do not yet know the answer to.” it was a conflict that raged inside her. between ideals and feelings. safeerah wanted to show there was another way, but she also knew if bash handed her the sword then she would run it through the heart of lord toland. “if lord toland dies, you know what that will mean for devani. she has a claim to ghost hill.” safeerah knew if there was no trial that she would have to move against ghost hill ― or maybe she had to do it anyway. there would be no peace inside her otherwise. for a woman who spoke of peace, she could not bear the thought of the tolands getting away with their crimes.

“the prince has a lot on his mind, i would not blame him for feeling overwhelmed with it all.” safeerah could sense the doubt emitting from her cousin, so she leaned forward and took one of her hands. “listen to me.” dark eyes clashed with violet. “you are ruqaiyah dayne, you are beautiful and powerful, and if you want ravi as husband, you will have him.” saf would always be first in line to support her even if their ambitions were wildly different. “he will not say no to you.” she let go of her hand and leaned slightly back again. “trust me, i have tried and i know it's close to impossible.” a soft laugh escaped her then.

safeerah smiled as she observed her friend. she always enjoyed these moments where calm would fall over them, and they could simply talk without thinking twice of what to say. her smile faltered slightly at the question. “mother is coping.” it was the truth. but it was not easy for any of them. she knew her mother longed for rashid as much as she did, and the surrounding chaos only made the longing deeper. he had been their rock and now she had to find a way to become the same, not only for herself and her family, but for all of the tor. “we are not alone, qaiyah, we have our people and each other ― and most of dorne, it seems.” saf knew that her cousin saw the world differently. in some ways, they were as different as night and day, but yet their friendship persisted despite all the reasons it should not. there were none closer to her than ruqaiyah. none where there was no filter between what she thought and what she said.

who: @dancingshores when and where: lann's day celebrations within casterly rock, ruqaiyah dayne comes across a nobody who has been climbing the ranks of importance within the court of sunspear. how she hates it.

she had noticed it briefly first, orbs passing over the scene as she found herself engaging in conversation with the hand of king cedric of house tyrell, and then her gaze snapped back to it again.

a familiar figure and voice, all sweetness and honey with long thick dark hair behind a mask; and a head of blonde hair she did not recognise, dancing upon the floor. it was enough to cause her to look upon it, making no attempt to even be subtle; what a scene. this was hardly a surprise, was it? the woman had seemingly given up on her mission of being the most unreliable, detached string in the realm and had instead decided to climb the ranks of court - and climbing the cocks of reachmen.

the music came to a slow as the dance began to end, and she found herself winding her way toward the woman she suspected, and the man that would later be confirmed to be lord gael hightower. and when the dance ended, ruqaiyah had no issue with a slow, sarcastic clap for the duo; slipping right to the side of zahra sand, the dornish court seer.

"amazing." ruqaiyah spoke, her tone gushing in falsehood; and yet, she maintained the gaze of them both. would the reachman see her deceit? no doubt zahra sand would, instantly.

and then she switched to their native tongue, a smooth and seamlessly transition as she feigned a friendly move of putting her hand on zahra's forearm, as though to usher her away. "is the court seer too busy planning on spreading herself on the white man to do the ridiculous job given to you out of pity?" myriam allyrion's favourite pet, was what ruqaiyah called her. all the while, not once did she think of the sister she had left for dead on the borders of the tor. the blood that was never upon her hands.

"i want my palm read. save embarrassing us for later and do your job."

★

ruqaiyah’s lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile, her amethyst eyes narrowing as she studied devani, the words lingering in the air like smoke. she almost found the claim laughable—no winds strong enough? oh, there were winds strong enough. strong enough to carry you away from yourself. but she didn’t say that. not yet. “courage,” ruqaiyah mused, tilting her head slightly, her gaze running over devani as if she were a puzzle yet to be solved.

“you really think that’s what kept you running all these years? courage?” she stepped closer, the words laced with something cold, something biting. “or was it fear, darling? fear of being seen for what you really are. because you and i both know what it is. and it’s never been about courage.” and that was the twisted reality of all that remained in the fractured glass that had become of them; a knowledge, a clear ability to see through one another. there was no way to forget, no way to go back on it.

“you’re bored?” ruqaiyah’s smile widened, sharp as a knife. “as am i. how long did it take for you to get bored? all those years running around pretending—hiding, always hiding. you'll be hiding something over there, no doubt. something that spoiled the fun for you. but now you’re here. chasing a game that no one else is playing anymore.” she pulled away her silks from devani's smooth touch, ignoring the way she seemed to find herself zoning in more on it. on her.

“it is quite the view still, devani. is it not?” ruqaiyah’s voice dropped to a low murmur, an edge of steel in it. her smile faltered for a second, a flicker of the past catching her off guard. memories, god, they never leave, do they? she had given devani everything once, and for what? abandonment. emptiness. she had sat and wondered, rewriting and rewriting letters she would leave her parents. her family. how she would tell them she did not wish to marry. that she wished to be like the rest of dorne.

“you didn’t just look, though, did you?” she said, stepping closer still, her eyes narrowing; but her gaze was dark. “and then you left.” her hand reached out to devani there, moving away her hand from her silks. "we were girls, devani toland. and we are women now. i'll find it within my heart to forgive you, as my soon to be subject." a lie. a complete and utter lie. but she would never miss the chance to remind her of their difference. how lucky she were that ruqaiyah had ever looked in her direction.

"nah. don't think there's winds strong enough to carry me away from my courage." it was not necessarily true. a lover had once told devani she was completely without fear, and she had liked that. but it was not fearlessness that had kept her running all these years. it was quite the opposite, and she did not think any knew that better than ruqaiyah, regardless of whatever playful deflection devani threw her way.

she hummed then, pressing her lips together as though she were deep in thought. but it was another charade, another game. yet another way to see if she could still get under the skin of the lady of starfall. "or maybe i just got bored. hiding's less fun if you're not chasing me."

ruqaiyah pressed closer, and devani found her eyes sliding down her face, studying each of her features. those amythest eyes, with their long lashes, the curve of her cheekbone, the way her lips parted when she spoke and the memory of pressing her own against them. it was a treacherous road to go down, and yet, here she was, throwing herself down it headfirst, as she always did.

"i do." it had been so innocent, in comparison to the lovers that had come after. back then, it had simply been about lying beside one another, charged with something else that was not lust. ruqaiyah had given her an escape from the oppressiveness of ghost hill. devani had repaid that with abandonment. "but that is not the interesting question." she reached out, smoothing a fold in ruqaiyah's pink silks, touch feather-light against the fabric. "because you didn't mind the view either, if memory serves."

asoiaf meme: 1/9 houses

House Dayne of Starfall is a noble house from Starfall in Dorne. The Sword of the Morning is a title given to a Dayne knight who is considered worthy of wielding the greatsword Dawn, a blade said to be created from the heart of falling star. Their sigil is a sword and a falling star on a lavender background. A cadet branch of the family are the Daynes of High Hermitage.

Kalank (2019)

★

she knew not what test it was that dictated her choices; her words, actions and thoughts alike that felt as though she needed to live up to something the other sat across from her would not understand or be able to fathom. the concept of living according to an established set of rules, rules she decided did not apply when conversing with others that were not the same as her.

"you admire people who try hard to be different, yes." rules she would set ablaze and burn her own skin to discard of, just to feel the sensation of throwing it to the wind, to the tornado, to the earthquakes.

"some people are just above others." there was a cold glint that came over sparkling orbs at the sound of the laughter that slipped from the woman opposite her. there were many things that caused ruqaiyah dayne to become unpolished: the sparkle to cease, and the roughness around her edges becoming sharp - to feel as though her pride had been wounded was a fatal mistake. "some even have the lowest of low above them."

and in this moment, as she found herself doing the opposite of disassociating, she only fixated on the sound of the laughter; and she wondered if that very same laughter had rung atop the deck of whatever vessel, in whatever bedchamber, at the mere prospect of the words that had been whispered between one another. she felt herself burn even more now, a silent simmer; of shame, and of longing.

there was a tut that came from her when the wine spilled onto the table cloth from lady toland's goblet.

"thankfully, my lord brother discarded of such a stain within our sphere." another instance of house dayne proving themselves to be the most worthy of houses in dorne. the most valiant, and the most dedicated - to themselves, and to duty. she saw a flicker of pain cross over dark features, and she felt a thrill to know she was able to do achieve such an effect. it meant ruqaiyah was not the same woman who fell into the web of such a spider.

it meant she too was poison - why did she want to be poison? and then she felt her stomach twist in a warped irritation. even after all of these years, it was him that could get her to stop. to get something human to cross her features, rather than the colour red.

"and now we move on." she spoke, her words illicit with a double meaning as she reached forward to take another goblet of wine from the centre of the table.

there was an attempt at an insult, and it took everything in devani not to laugh out loud at it. perhaps ruqaiyah had forgotten, in their years parted, that devani cared little for being like everyone else. it was the precise reason she had departed in the first place, so that she could do as she pleased, wear as she pleased, live in exactly the way she wanted to and enjoy every moment of it. she knew little of lady dayne's life since she had left it. had she ever had a moment like that? ever filled her days with something not because she had a duty to it, but purely because she wanted to? devani didn't know.

"all the more reason not to wear dornish fabrics, then," devani waved a hand dismissively. "i've always admired people who take it upon themselves to make their own mind up about these things, rather than paying attention to what everyone else is doing." once she had crossed the rhoyne for the first time, it had hit her how little the life she had left behind mattered. dorne was a small corner of a wider world - one ruqaiyah had never seen. devani could almost pity that.

she couldn't help it this time: when ruqaiyah called her by a name that wasn't hers, devani laughed, and it was genuine, because it was utterly ridiculous. call it arrogance, but she did not believe that ruqaiyah had forgotten her. the more she tried to make it seem as though it was so, the more it felt like a farce. "i don't agree," she raised her shoulders in a shrug."i think people like to believe they have changed. risen above," she rolled her eyes. "but the core of who you are stays the same. there's no changing that."

the reaction from devani at the hint of what had happened to dante uller was not instant. rather, it dawned upon her face slowly, the light in her dimming as her smirk fell, her eyes widened, and she lapsed into silence. she looked like she might be sick. ruqaiyah had aimed for her jugular, and the knife had slid under her skin like butter. devani set her cup down upon the table, so hard that the wine spilled over the edge and stained the cloth that covered it, and she finally tore her gaze away.

in the back of her head there was a phantom cry of pain, and she did not know if it belonged to dante uller, or the boy who had been buried under the filth of king's landing.

it hit her then how calculated the move had been. ruqaiyah had commanded the attention of the others that sat with, made sure all had heard the comment and had their eyes on devani as she reacted. the silence echoed loudly. she had no words for ruqaiyah dayne in that moment. for the first time in almost as long as she could remember, devani was rendered utterly speechless.

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU 1999 — dir. Gil Junger

★

truthfully, the grace of the evening found herself entirely zealous each time she looked upon the facial features of the court seer: there was something youthful and glowy about her features, as though she had remained untouched by the hardships of life and it showed on her face. it were only natural she would know nothing of the hardships of life, considering she had no real responsibility; what could she know of the weight of duty? of how it truly caused the world to go around, rather than the planets or whatever else she found herself calling upon?

"do i truly need to remind you?" any who knew ruqaiyah closely would know she was entirely a skeptic; she did not believe in astrology of any form, including birth charts - there was no motivation for this conversation apart from keeping herself entertained. "you serve us, zahra sand." ruqaiyah spoke, her voice light and antagonising; almost as though she were singing along to the sound of the musical instruments. her attire was pretty, a certain golden glow to her; it made her hate her even more.

"most would take this position seriously, considering it brought you out of whatever squalor you called home." the same way a cat played with a mouse before devouring it; there was no hint of guilt or remorse in her eyes as she looked toward zahra sand, she thought not of the rock nor the sound of an innocent girl's head smashing against it in the heat of the dunes beyond the borders of the tor. she had always been dismissive and mean toward zahra, and to change it would only come across as suspicious - besides, that happened years ago.

"no. i want to see what you can do." ruqaiyah sat down, extending her hands out to the woman.

as the dance concluded zahra flashed a grin to the young lord who had accompanied her, though she had no clue what his name was at this moment in time, she already decided she quite liked him, and would enjoy conversing with him more this evening. of course, just as quickly as the thought fluttered into her mind, the glass shattered with the sound of clapping from the lady ruqaiyah dayne herself observing nearby.

round eyes looked from the lady, back to her partner for a moment as the exited the dance floor, she gave a subtle nod of thanks, and hoped perhaps he could see her intentions to find him again when she were done, though she had a feeling she would be occupied for some time, and so she let the idea of reconciling with the other fade from mind as she offered ru a sweet smile, zahra's more genuine than the lady's before her, but she could see right through the other woman's facade. it were hardly being disguised.

zahra had known the other for quite some time, of course not in any personal way. she recalled the ladies callous nature, in the tor she were entirely unapproachable, so she thought, and yet she had recalled how farah seemed to grow on her, at least so it seemed, before that fateful day.

the dancer allowed ruqaiyah to lead her away, though she would not have fought it, anyways. despite her court-appointed position, despite her status in dorne not being seen as lowly as most of the continent, she knew house dayne's ideaologies were different, the westerlands views were different, even if she wanted to protest, she had no ground here. and yet, she would not have, even if she did. for that was simply the nature of zahra sand, to let the winds take her and face the next moment in her life in stride.

"i apologize, had i known you were in search of me, i would not have taken to the dance floor." she replied, simply, feeling a flush of frustration prickling at her cheeks and eyes, hopefully hidden by the mask upon her face. zahra gestured to a seating area, just out of the great hall, a quieter place for conversations to be heard "is there something you are concerned about?"

@opheliafowler / @dancingshores

MEAN GIRLS (2004) dir. Mark Waters