SABRINA CARPENTER Espresso (Behind The Scenes)

★

she only theatrically shrugged.

bluntness was a cursed habit of house dayne; all members seemingly having short tongues, their affinity to wrapping it in lace, flowers and silver was what differed from individual to individual - the very opposite of ambiguity, of double meanings, and looking too close into something. it would be a lie to say ruqaiyah dayne was not one to make ambiguous comments in passing with the sole intention of making another feel nervous or insecure about themselves; it was in her early girlhood she realised ambiguity could be a weapon.

"did you ever try to reach out to your childhood friend?" ruqaiyah asked, amethyst hues flickering away from a vivid dark gaze toward the food that was now cold on the plate before her. "perhaps he did not adjust well to your vanishing act."

one she felt now, sitting on the opposite of this damned table, and she found herself doing mental gymnastics attempting to work out what it was devani was truly saying. how she hated it, when she was on the receiving end. hypocritical to her very core; her hand remained beneath her chin as she merely looked upon the woman opposite her with a torn look. one of scathing judgement, as though she were vermin beneath her shoe; and the other side being one rooted in fractured insecurity.

"then again, why would you? that would require you to be able to admit when you've done wrong, and both of us do not have the time to unwind the length of that scroll."

dying for answers of questions she had always buried deep within her for years, though was never able to ask them - for she never had an address of where to write. the letters never came with any confirmation of identity, never came with any inclination of where she could write anything back: even across the narrow sea, devani toland had some control over her ability to open her mouth and say anything.

her gaze narrowed when she mentioned baashir; baashir did not get angry. he was the perfect knight, and he was doing his duty. so he beat a man to a pulp, who gave a shit when the man was a traitor? his life meant nothing anyway. "well, some of us have brothers who actually protect their families. you know baashir, devani - considering you stayed some time with us." to be away from whatever hell hole ghost hill was.

how it had taken time for ruqaiyah to be willing to open her mouth and speak on the truth of who she was: how she was ready to tell devani she would sit both of her parents down and speak the truth to them - that she did not wish to marry, that she did wish to set foot in a sept she did not believe in. that devani toland would not be a secret. and with a gust of wind over sails, that came to a sudden, screeching end. instantly, the rose hue faded to black and white, and the bubble burst: it had all been in her own head.

a foolish, naive girl believing none other compared, that she stood alone. "are you intending on staying, lady toland?"

she wasn't sure why she hadn't anticipated this, why it had taken her so by surprised when the subject of dante was broached. she had been lucky, thus far, that nobody else had approached her so pointedly. conversations about dante had been few and far between, usually accompanied by offers of condolences from them, and assurances from devani that she had no idea what her friend had been up to. that wasn't a lie. dante had kept her in the dark - and she was eternally grateful that he had.

but if devani had forgotten the depths to which ruqaiyah could stoop, she had forgotten how resilient devani could be. was she not the girl who had left dorne with nothing, who had flitted from place to place, building a new life for herself each time? the silence was a sign of her displeasure, but she would not remain quiet.

"i do not know what curse gripped dante uller's heart in my absence," the words were more for the benefit of anybody still listening to the conversation than ruqaiyah, a simple statement that washed her hands of any guilt, and addressed the lady of starfall's words without ambiguity, without shame. devani toland would not be cowed.

"but i mourn the friend i've known since my childhood." and there, she moved back into ambiguity, because those words could apply to dante uller - but they could just as easily be affixed to ruqaiyah dayne, because devani had mourned her, and thought of her, and wanted her. even when she hated her.

"yes, i hear your lord brother's fury was a sight to behold. tell me, does he often lose control of himself like that?" it was a dangerous hand to play, and yet, devani chose to throw that card on the table regardless, a reminder that the daynes of starfall were not as perfect, as infallible, as ruqaiyah was painting them to be. "let us all be thankful that we have our first minister to dispense justice upon the wicked, hmm?" and there, she retreated back into what was safe, a place where nobody could twist her words and paint them as a slight on baashir dayne. they were blessed to have him, a shining star of the dornish court.

devani hated this game.

"i suppose we do," devani's eyes burned as they met ruqaiyah's once more. try again. her lips twisted into a mirthless smirk. "there is nothing sadder than someone who holds on to hate for things they can't control, is there?"

Katrina Kaif behind the scenes for Kalyan Jewellers

who: @devanitoland when and where: sunspear, shortly following the murder of dante uller by baashir dayne and the introduction of ruqaiyah dayne to the court of sunspear. there is a grand feast going on with specifically assigned seating, and ruqaiyah finds herself sat at a table with a very, very, familiar stranger. tdlr: that feeling when ur 10 year long situationship shows up

her visit to sunspear would most likely be permanent this time, and it was something she had not fully thought through until the wagon was already days into the journey - she found herself wondering whether that had been intentional, to make the change of setting as easy and minimal as possible. ruqaiyah hoped not, for she wished her departure from her home to be full of emotional theatrics, with elephants adorned in colourful fabrics and colour filling the air.

now she was here, back in the capital city: where she had been before, though it felt like each time she arrived, there was some update. someone had died.

there was assigned seating at this table, and she noted there were multiple notable women of various houses of dorne: and she did not pay enough attention to one of the names that would have been enough to cause her to get up and demand to sit at another table. perhaps because she was too engrossed in gossip about what the princess loreza martell was wearing, she was within such conversation when another face appeared before her.

"my eyes are increasingly fixed on one person." "don't say that." "but i did." "who?" "you've run out of questions now, ru." she had seen it, and heard it, through a rose coloured haze.

one would be able to see her expression change ever so slightly as she looked upon devani toland for the first time in over a decade, as though she had risen from the dead: of course she had heard of her return and all the rumours attached to them. a flicker of realisation, her words slowing for a moment, before she simply looked away; acting as though she was not at the table at all. none would have noticed the way her heart was thumping, and how suddenly increasingly numb she began to feel.

a door slammed. "you said your eyes were fixed on one person. one. person." "did you take it seriously? we were drinking." "but you said it." "so?" "do you tolands know how to count?" she had seen it, and heard it, through no haze.

how she wished to get up and demand to be sat elsewhere. she found herself looking anywhere but at her, speaking to women and aunties of various social circles as they walked by her; and still, she had not said hello. she would not say hello first. she refused to say hello first.

and if devani toland did not say hello first, then devani toland was not sat opposite ruqaiyah dayne. it was an empty seat.

★

he was looking at her; a pair of orbs that were identical to her own, though it felt more like he was able to see right through her. still, her shoulders remained as poised as they always were, and she held his own gaze in a manner that was confrontational, but curious; how she had been taught she needed to deal with her oldest brother and his peculiar ways. "you are staring at me." she commented, her tone still trying to sound casual; she felt far from it though, for she knew he must have spotted her.

"why?" women all across dorne smoked, and yet, ruqaiyah of house dayne was expected to maintain some level of perfection the others did not. what if they were already perfect, even in their skewered choices?

she was the one who broke the gaze first, extending her bangled arms forward to push the plates toward the ruling lord of the house - there was much about the siblings that mirrored one another, but there was also much of ruqaiyah that mirrored her mother. she had noted that the best way to gain the approval of her mother over the years was to simply replicate her; and suddenly she was no longer pretending. "i was a girl when i made you promise such a thing, bhaiya." she spoke, her voice softer than it had been.

she had no issue with pushing the plates toward her brother, doting on her brother; because he understood the weight of perfection too. so she would play her role, considering he played his too. they were a perfect dollhouse, in perfect line up - and none would see the cracks if they were not on the other side of the mirror. "you need not do such things now. you can let things go, you know?" she commented, directing for the servant to keep the jug on the table - she would refill his cup herself.

"it was my candle." the words came so casually from her lips, and yet, his next words caused her to look up from the goblet she was refilling. she almost allowed the wine to spill over in the rush of excitement; how long she had been waiting for him to agree. she had wished and thought of court often: so many spoke of sunspear, and now it was her time to see it for herself.

"what do you have to get in order? i've done it all for you." did that mean her own marriage would be happening soon? "you told me i could find you a bride before i marry." she reminded; had he? she was not entirely sure that was what he meant by his words; she was not entirely sure he had said anything like that. he had not. "has the prince asked of me? is that why?" a slight break in her formal nature, she seemed to shoot out question after question, not letting him reply.

Bash looked at his sister, he often worried about the way she did things. They were too much alike depending upon who was asked about the comparison. In some ways he knew it was perfect. His sister kept things afloat, some would assume he left his mother in charge but he did not. His sister was his heir and as such she was left to run Starfall and every report was correct, there were no complaints. She ran things the way she was meant to run them. And Baashir was proud of her but he had to wonder how much of her activities were as they were because of him. Such as this smell of smoke. And, of course, the orange glow from her balcony.

"You probably don't remember this, sister." Baashir smiled at her, nodding in thanks to servant who came in with the plate of cheese and dried meat, a similar nod going to the person who brought in a bowl of fruit floating in a bowl of cream which brought a true smile to his face. He grabbed a spoon and then looked up again.

"Whenever I would leave I always promised that I would come home by your window so you may be there when I return. Every time I look towards your window. And even though you had no idea I was coming home, I looked." He took a bite, raised the bowl and took a drink of the sweet milk then sat it back down. "And suddenly I saw this orange glow."

Bash shrugged a shoulder, "perhaps it was a candle. It is dark." He reached over and grabbed one of the pieces of beard and took a bite from the side as he always did. As soon as he started to eat he knew he would be here for quite some time. It made his mother happy to feed him and he was always happy to eat. Especially after leaving a place where he thought the food was shit. Too much venison and pork.

"I'll be here while I get some things in order. And while you get you r things together. It's time for you to come to court, sister."

★

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."

who: @raviofthesun when and where: the royal apartments of prince ravi martell context: following her little temper tantrum, ravi followed through with the promise of a dinner.

she arrived precisely ten minutes early - expecting everything to be set up and perfect, as no man in his right mind would leave anything of this nature so last minute. she did not knock. ruqaiyah had never once announced herself like a servant waiting to be received, and she would not start now, least of all at the threshold of the private martell apartments, where history had already decided she was to one day belong. and she very much agreed with that rhetoric.

and so, the guards glanced at her, but none dared question her entrance; what could they say, with the sun itself stitched into her lehenga and a gaze that did not ask for permission?

the corridors glowed amber beneath the sconces, but they paled against the pink heat of her attire, the silk whispering against her skin with every step, embroidered thread catching the candlelight in glimmers of gold. each anklet, each bracelet, each chain at her waist and glittering around her neck added to the crescendo of her presence—she moved, and the world jingled in acknowledgment. her heels clacked unapologetically, arrogant and sharp, the kind of sound meant to precede news.

ruqaiyah could see herself walking these halls everyday. telling the governess to tell the children to be quiet. making the servants display her outfits lined up.

she had worn pink—not rose, not blush, not any dusty rose, but pink—hot and commanding, like the inside of a pomegranate freshly torn. it clung to her waist, her sleeves sheer and beaded, the skirts full enough to swallow entire population of smallfolk girls whole. her lips were glassy, unapologetically reflective, and her long hair—every strand straightened to a blade—cascaded down her back like a curtain of ink.

she stood now in the outer solar, though no servants were in sight. fine. let him find her here, composed, statuesque. she smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from her sleeve and let her gaze drift to the arches and pillars carved with sandstone vines. the martell taste for excess was more subdued than dornish fire might suggest—peach marble and muted earth tones. it made her seem even louder by comparison, a gem mistakenly placed in a bowl of stonefruit. "so this is it," she murmured aloud to herself, fingers trailing lightly along the edge of a table carved with sun motifs. "the belly of the beast."

she had imagined it before, of course. had imagined countless evenings where he would finally remember the promises laid out for them before they could even speak in full sentences. imagined him, not as he was—cool and absent and impossible—but as he might become, if only he would stop stalling. "tell the prince i am here." she did even bother to introduce herself - in what world would she need to? the most beautiful in dorne, on the continent; the sister of the sword of the morning, and the oldest lady of house dayne.

"for our private dinner." she did not want them stood inside.

★

ruqaiyah tilted her head, her earrings catching the low light as if to emphasize her. always her. the hubbub of the ball carried on around them, but in ruqaiyah’s mind, the room had narrowed to this singular, unwelcome confrontation. devani’s nonchalance was a far cry from the reckless, thoughtless girl she remembered. ruqaiyah didn’t know whether to find it amusing or infuriating. perhaps both.

“oh, how enlightening,” ruqaiyah purred, the sweetness in her tone so cloying it was venomous. “you don’t know why you’re here. typical devani, fluttering in like a moth to flame without thinking about what you might burn.” her lips curved into a smile so perfect it might have graced a painting, though her eyes remained cold.

she smoothed the silken folds of her gown, deliberately elegant, her nails glittering with gemstones as she waved off devani’s comment. “you speak of clinging as if it’s a fault. and yet here you are, circling back to things you claim to have let go.” she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a low murmur meant only for devani.

“you don’t really let go, devani. you just run. a habit, it seems, you’ve yet to break.”

she paused for a moment, dragging her amethyst orbs across devani's face and her frame. it were intentional; and if she had little pride or self respect, she would happily let devani toland take care of her in a range of manners.

pulling back, ruqaiyah laughed lightly, a sound utterly at odds with the tension between them. “but how silly of me. we’re not here to dig up old grievances, are we? we’re grown women now. mature, as they say.” her eyes sparkled with mockery. “so, tell me,” she continued, taking a sip from her goblet as if this were all a game she was winning, “what’s it like, proving you can still get it? how does my attention make you feel, fool of fools?"

"what can i say? i have always been a giver," devani smiled sweetly, though there was just as much sarcasm in her tone as in ruqaiyah's. her eyes followed the arc over ruqaiyah's shoulder, into the path of those stood behind her, and devani offered them an apologetic glance.

it was not true. for most of her life, devani had given little, but she had took, and she took, and then moved on before any could ask anything of her in return. the habits of a lifetime were not so easily broken. "and what is the alternative, ruqaiyah? to cling to everything that i have ever held in my hands and get dragged down under the weight of it all?" perhaps she was too quick to let things go, but at least she was letting go at all. looking at ruqaiyah, she knew how she would rather be.

she paused for a second, mulling over ruqaiyah's words. she was not privy to the coffers of ghost hill, her mother and brother trusting her not with such matters. was that why aditya had done what he did? no, she did not think so. he was an arrogant fool, but not utterly stupid. "that can't be it. even aditya knows that is no way to get a woman's dowry." she spoke not as if ruqaiyah was trying to insult her, but as though they were discussing this normally, rationally.

"it is amusing," she insisted. "and it's silly. all this fuss over something you will never wear again. why does it matter to you so much?" it was the question she had never quite gotten the answer to. the things that seemed so irrelevant, so meaningless to devani always seemed to be of the utmost importance to ruqaiyah. perhaps it was a side effect of living the life that was expected to live, and never broadening her horizons beyond that.

ruqaiyah posed a question of her own, and for a moment, devani struggled with the answer. there really wasn't one, or at least, not one that would satisfy. "i don't know," she admitted. "perhaps just to prove that i still can get it."

★

it had only taken a moment for the lady of starfall to find herself regretting the half compliment she had been kind enough to throw in the direction of devani toland, the same way one would throw scraps from their dinner table for their dogs remaining at their feet. the gaze she felt upon her was one that simmered with a sense of heat; a look she had forgotten in feeling, but not in appearance - the slight twinkle of dark orbs, and words that said nothing but everything all at once.

the west side of the east. even her answers were complicated, vague, and ambiguous. and it frustrated her so. still, more like; and that only made her more irritated with herself. her amethyst gaze flickered over the garments once again, in a gaze that was tainted with both judgement, and curiosity. as though there would some clue, some piece of her map that remained upon her. "not quite up to date though."

she used a hand to wave toward the other women on the table, who no doubt were going in and out of listening to their conversation. it was also a move to gain attention, considering her bangles clinked. she wanted eyes fixed upon them for the next conversation. "everyone knows we all wear dornish fabrics now."

and yet, it had always been her very complication that had always drawn the starlight of starfall to the all encompassing what-if that was the ghost of ghost hill. her ability to question everything, and do things because she wanted to; rather than being because of expectations, of tradition and of culture. her being a walking question mark, in contrast to the finality of a period that was ruqaiyah; the haunting of what ifs.

ruqaiyah dayne in her essence was vain, and enjoyed the feeling of eyes upon her; whether it be for the clothes she was wearing, or for other things. her looks, her manner, her lineage that was the matter of myth. many likened themselves to stars across the length and breadth of westeros; and yet, she was the brightest of stars in the sky.

and then came an amused smile, mirrored with a feminine laugh; a scoff. a brush off. "oh, people change devina." a wrong name, in front of multiple eyes. ruqaiyah's gaze seemed lit with something. was it attention? was it finding herself twirling into a trip? was it enjoyment in her mean spirit? "people who claim otherwise are those trying to find some connection with people that have long since forgotten them."

and then their gaze locked.

"so, what gossip have you heard about people who do not change? i heard it got quite messy in sunspear."

looking upon ruqaiyah's face once more stirred something strange in the pit of devani's stomach, feelings long buried, even if thoughts of her had refused to stay shackled in the graveyard of devani's memory. she had forgotten what it was to stand close to her, to stand in awe under the glow of starlight and feel blessed that it chose to shine on her.

the way ruqaiyah spoke to her now was not shining or glowing, and yet, the craving within devani to feel that once more worked its way up her spine regardless. time and distance had not been enough to rid her of her addiction to the lady of starfall. it did not matter that ruqaiyah chose to greet her under the guise of an acquaintance, a stranger, even. she was speaking to her with something that resembled civility, and that was enough for now.

"the years have been kind." to both of them, in physicality if nothing else. she knew little of what exactly ruqaiyah had been doing in the years that parted them, and did not want to talk about the stains they had left on her own soul.

"hmm," devani looked down at her attire. of course, her ru would notice the fabric was not westerosi in origin, but she couldn't for the life of her remember where it had came from. "myr, maybe? could have been pentos. definitely the west side of the east." it was an non-committal answer. the kind devani was very, very good at.

she raised her cup to her lips and drank, but still, she did not look away. she had been so nervous, so frightened to face ruqaiyah again, and now, she wanted nothing more than to look at her, to take in what she had denied herself for far too long.

do you find sunspear much different?

i do now my best friend's brains have decorated it's halls.

it was the response devani wished to give, and it was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. what good would it do her to crusade for vengeance for dante uller in a court that had already condemned him? what could she gain, except to be consigned to the afterlife alongside him?

instead, devani shrugged. "not so," even if ruqaiyah would not look at her for longer than a second, devani would not avert her gaze. it was almost a silent dare at this point, a will for the woman to meet her eyes and look. "some things do not change." plenty had, but dorne was still dorne. in many ways, her return had been like stepping in back in time. "people, especially, are usually much the same, no matter how much they think time has effected them. don't you think?"

who: @scfeerah when and where: following the arrival of lady dayne and lady jordayne to the court of sunspear, most notably, following the tense interaction between ruqaiyah and devani. what: a good old bitch fest.

it did not take long for the ladies of house dayne and house jordayne to find their skirts wafting through the bustling great domed hall of sunspear, the sound of their anklets being drowned out by the sound of the tabla and the laughter, though there was a silent simmer that lingered between them. the epitome of ancient kinship flowering into something of far more substance, the ladies had always remained inseparable, despite the differences in their nature, temperament and ideology.

"gods, she is going to ruin this for me, isn't she?" ruqaiyah asked, her voice low, but as though she were ready to explode into what could only be seen as a tantrum. "she'll see to it to somehow break the betrothal. or she'll try to have me embarrass myself." the marriage that was supposed to go through between herself and the prince of sunspear.

still, there was none other that would be able to read the mind of the grace of the evening without even having to utter a word. so many fleeting looks, slightly raised brows, and expressions that said all words could not say. and gods knew, if there was a sound that matched this nights situation, it would be the sound of blaring trumpets and shattering glass in the background of knowing looks.

"she was even speaking to the prince." she commented, and there was jealousy laced in her voice. gods knew for what, apart from the idea of devani taking the life that was meant for ruqaiyah. "are they friends? do you know? i had no clue." safeerah constantly trying to get ruqaiyah to stop engaging in the conversation, even if it were to stoop to low levels of malice and utter spite. "why can't she just crawl back to whatever hole she came out of it, and take dante uller's crumbs with her?"

if the situation were less personal for ruqaiyah, she would have found herself giggling at the look which crossed the expression of lady jordayne; one of quiet surprise, as though she did not want to make any sudden movements in the tense interaction. the discussion happened after they retreated to the grand ornate chambers given to the lady of house dayne, and the smoke had been lit using the candles already ignited: she did not wish to fill her sister's room with the smell of smoke, so ruqaiyah leaned out of a window, blowing it out into the night sky before her.

"i should have ignored her. i know you were trying to tell me to ignore her."