Ruqaiyahdayne - I Can't Help That I Need It All.

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."

★

the seat in which baashir now sat upon their grand table had been years in the making; it was constantly referenced that someday he would be the next ruling lord of starfall, spoken about more than any other thing in their family. her marriage, and his lordship, and his marriage: only one of those things had happened, and yet there was often a picture that was painted. that life was as it should be, like there was not someone missing at the table: she had always struggled to see the portrait of her father upon the wall behind what was once his seat.

this change was hardly new, and yet, she thought of it each time baashir sat down in the chair. what was missing, what once was, and whether this was all it was supposed to be.

her amethyst gaze looked over to the sight of her mother trailing behind a message boy, something about a message from their cousin safeerah; she could still hear their mother's voice ringing from the halls as he uttered his next words. so he had not seen her, but he had smelt her. "smoke?" she allowed a puzzled expression to cross over her features that appeared as though they had been chiselled from marble, from glass, from the stars itself.

"do i?" she asked again, her hand resting upon the chair; and yet, she was inwardly cursing at herself.

of course he would smell it, because he knew the smell all too well. there was little use in becoming angry and defensive, because he would see that. instead, she feigned genuine confusion - not even denying smoking herself. she did not want him to think that was the first thing on her mind. "i do not smell it, but maybe it was the incense i had burning in my room, or the new fragrance could be using too much sandalwood. serves me right for trying out new ones."

she almost mirrored his actions, folded arms coming upon the table stop, white gold bangles shimmering beneath the crystal chandelier that hung above them. a silent challenge, that he could read too much into. she would pretend to be upset if she needed to, and get their mother involved. "you've arrived just before safeerah - she'll be so happy to see you too." they had not been able to see her since the funeral of their rashid.

"are you staying long?" how much will you be around to be on my head and monitoring me?

The Sword of the Morning was 1 and 10 when he first tried one of the smokes that were growing in their popularity as the countries separated and other regions increased their trade with the East or perhaps, he knew nothing about who smoked where and made broad assumptions. Baashir Dayne would never admit to the latter, so he supported the former. And while he didn’t smoke often, he still enjoyed smoking after a meal. Smoking after a particularly rough day or when he finished his games with Rashid. But Rashid was dead, and he was in constant need of reminding everyone he remembered. How could one forget? One couldn’t.

Baashir Dayne was familiar with the smell of smoke. The smell of the dried, brown leaves burning within its place. Could be anyone was his first thought. But when he entered his mother was there, as she always was, greeting him. There was excitement, arms thrown around his neck and brief whispers of how she missed him and wished he stayed home even longer. And this would be a lengthy stop but not one long enough for her, that he knew. But, soon, the son of the Starfall would return and all would be right. If he believed his mother.

“Bhaiṇa.” Bash greeted her, returning the hug, he then paused as he looked at her. The smell caught him first. Smoke. She smelled like smoke and if anyone noticed the subtle changes in his expression it was always Ru that noticed and tugged at mother’s skirts. She was too old to tug at skirts now. And clearly believed herself old enough to take up some smoking but then she mentioned food and him being fat. “No I’m not. I didn’t eat because I knew there would be …”

And before he could finish his mother was giving orders for trays of fruit and cheese, trays of raw veggies and hard meats, and anything could be made hot. Bash didn’t try to stop her. It was their jobs to make sure the lord of the house had a full belly before bed.

“Sit down.” Bash look at her as he allowed his cloak to be removed and then he removed his own sword belt, lying it down on the chair directly across from them. Sitting as he always did, stiffly, forearms resting against the tabletop.

“You smell like smoke.” He said as their mother left the room.

★

why did he need a ball thrown for his return, as though his place was not starfall? were they truly throwing celebrations for a lord returning to his post after fulfilling his duty? the sound of her iridescent silks covering the path of the private, enclosed garden seemed to drape by it; truthfully, such an event was a time that ruqaiyah dayne would come into her own. she would flourish, and glitter, for she believed she could make the whole place shimmer; but this night was different.

all because the rays of starlight now had to be shared; she was no longer the single grace of the evening, the most beautiful woman of house dayne. now there was a new wife of his to take that title of lady of starfall, and that was easily managed. all she would need to do is prove the peasant girl from a basket was over her head. but a newborn baby, born under comet light? how was she supposed to compete against a baby that seemed to happily peer at everyone and anything that breathed? she detested the brat.

she puffed a cloud of smoke into the air behind this private garden, hidden within its private gates, not once considering that anyone would have the nerve to follow her on her own land. her own playing field. she held the smoke between her fingers, dark silky hair cascading down to her waist as she let out another puff, a dramatic sigh escaping her lips. then she heard it—the taunting, all too familiar sound of a jibe.

"every day is a celebration for someone like me. there are many who are grateful for me in starfall." she responded, dramatically rolling her darker lilac gaze as she stepped out into the stone pathway, illuminated by candles. she put out her smoke and carelessly tossed it aside into the gardens her brother no doubt cherished. some gardens they were, compared to the rest of westeros. she looked at him with a deadpan expression, almost feeling a vein throb. what did he mean, on the road?

"i am to be your princess, lord wyl. i have been, since i was a girl," she all but sneered. or was she?

ryon wyl always knew how to get under her skin. the arrogance, the casual jibes—she could hardly stand it. but ruqaiyah would not let him see her falter. no, she would remain the untouchable jewel of house dayne, even if it meant sparring with words that cut as sharply as her brother’s prized blade. “what, are you still trying to prove you’re something more than a nuisance?” she added, her voice laced with disdain.

her words were a weapon, wielded with precision, each syllable dripping with contempt. ruqaiyah dayne would not be outshone, not by some peasant girl turned lady, nor by a man who barely deserved her notice. she would reclaim her place in the starlight, no matter the cost.

who: @ruqaiyahdayne when: flashback; starfall what: an event is being held in starfall for the return of the sword of the morning, ryon wyl attends as the new wyl of wyl.

The last time he saw the Sword of Morning a disagreement rose between them. One that went so far the Wyl of Wyl demanded to duel the other. It was the breaking of his old sword that saw sense come through that day. Still, the tension that existed was a light one, one that Ryon would not dance on. He respected Armaan Yronwood and therefore he would respect Baashir Dayne. That and he respected being alive more than his own pride.

"Is that his sister?" Ryon asked the man who stood across from him. It was the great debate of the Wyl of Wyl, should he show the respect needed or should he play his game. He never missed a chance to play the game. So, he made his way over to her, walking down the smooth stone path, the sound of the sea crash against the shore meshed well with the cry of birds and far off music that filled the air.

"Aur betee ko aisa jashn kab milega? (And when will the daughter get such a celebration?)" Ryon smiled, it would be the game, "Surely you are on the road to betrothal."

★

the ocean stretched endlessly before them, the waves lapping at the shore in a soothing, rhythmic cadence. the late afternoon sun bathed the beach in a golden glow, casting soft shadows on the sand where ruqaiyah and ravi stood. her silken, violet gown moved gently with the breeze, the fine embroidery catching the light like tiny constellations stitched into the fabric. she held herself with her usual poised elegance, though there was a new ease in her manner, as though a weight had shifted.

ruqaiyah’s amethyst eyes sparkled as she regarded ravi, his words still lingering in her mind. we’re going to be married. that much is certain. the certainty of it sent a thrill through her, though she masked it with a coy smile. she had spent years calculating her future, manoeuvring through the expectations and pressures of house dayne. now, with ravi’s assurance, the prize felt tangible, within her grasp. the social standing, the prestige—it was all hers, guaranteed. “so, it’s decided,” she said, her voice carrying a playful lilt as she extended her arm, wrist adorned with delicate bangles that chimed softly in the breeze.

“no more deliberation, no more hesitations. you’ve made your choice, and wisely, might i add.” her smile widened, a flicker of amusement touching her expression. “i suppose that means i can stop pestering you."

her gaze wandered briefly to the ocean, where the horizon stretched endlessly, gilded by the setting sun. the sight calmed her, even as her mind churned with thoughts of what was to come. everyone will see now. the whispers will cease. prince ravi martell does intend to marry ruqaiyah dayne. the thought filled her with a quiet satisfaction, her heart lifting at the victory she had so carefully sought. turning back to ravi, she arched an elegant brow, her tone teasing yet carrying an undercurrent of command. “come, then. escort me back to sunspear. it’s only fitting, don’t you think? after all, it wouldn’t hurt for the court to see us arriving together.” her lips curved into a knowing smile, her arm still extended. “let them whisper about us, about you and me, as they’ve done for years. only now, they’ll know the truth. their prince is a man of his word.”

she waited, unwavering, her posture poised and regal against the backdrop of the shimmering sea. for all her playful words, there was a seriousness in her eyes—a satisfaction in the game she had played and won, and a flicker of hope, though she would never admit it aloud. as ravi stepped closer to take her arm, ruqaiyah allowed herself to relax just slightly, savouring the moment.

the wind tugged at ravi’s loose, desert-toned garment as he shifted his weight, hands clasped behind his back. he studied ruqaiyah for a moment, her words still lingering in the air. the way her tone had softened didn’t escape him, nor did the flicker of something unguarded in her amethyst eyes. it wasn’t often she let her walls down, but ravi wasn’t one to rush when patience might yield something worth knowing.

“lean. i’ll make a note of that,” he replied with a faint smile, his tone light to match her teasing. “i’ll see if the kitchens can manage to prepare something that won’t disrupt your regimen.” he let the lightness hang for a beat before exhaling softly, his voice lowering to something gentler, and yet, still firm. “we’re going to be married. that much is certain. and because of that, i think we owe it to ourselves to see if we can build something more than what’s been planned for us.”

he shifted closer, his voice calm but encouraging. “think about it. every decision we make together will shape our lives, our families, even dorne. if we can find a way to understand each other, to truly work as partners, don’t you think that benefits us both? you’re brilliant, ruqaiyah. i’ve known that since we were children. but brilliance shines brighter when it has someone who values it, who complements it. that’s what I want, for both of us.”

ravi allowed a touch of humor to lighten his words. “besides, you said yourself you don’t despise me. that’s a good start, isn’t it?” he smiled, his princely demeanor softening for a moment. “let’s have dinner. not as a test, or something to dread, but as a chance to talk. to see what we’re capable of together before we stand before the world as husband and wife.”

he spread his arms lightly, an easy grace in the gesture. “and if nothing else, i promise it’ll be lean. I wouldn’t dream of ruining your efforts.” he found them unnecessary, but did not feel the need to voice such a thing. ravi met her gaze, now, his tone both firm and inviting. “tomorrow evening. ;et’s take this step, ruqaiyah. for us. deal?”

★

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?"

★

ruqaiyah leaned back against the stone wall of the balcony, the familiar scent of her cigarette filling the air. the weight of the conversation was heavy, but she was careful to maintain her composure. her eyes, though, were sharp—sharper than they had ever been, especially as she listened to safeerah's words. justice, safeerah said. revenge, she hadn’t said, but it was there, lurking just beneath the surface. ruqaiyah knew that. they both knew it.

"justice," ruqaiyah echoed, her voice lightly tinged with disbelief. "and you think that will ease everything? what exactly are you going to tell the people of dorne, safeerah? that your house took down a man—aditya toland of all people—and that the rest of the world would bow to you for it?" ruqaiyah took another drag, blowing the smoke out slowly, her gaze shifting across the horizon. se was unaware if she sounded dismissive, or scathing.

"you’re too soft for that, you know. there’s no honor in waiting for a tribunal, not when you've got the power to settle things yourself."

her tone was sharp, more than it should have been, but it was the truth to ruqaiyah dayne. they both knew it. it was easy for safeerah to say she wanted justice the right way, but ruqaiyah couldn't help but wonder if that was just a way to cling to some illusion of fairness. in the real world, fairness was often a luxury. it was a commodity to be traded, not a virtue. "yousound just like savita," ruqaiyah continued, her voice lowering slightly. "moping about in all of this. it's not who we are, safeerah. we're stronger than that. wear your power. use it. that's the only thing that matters. a lady of an entire yourself, you lucky thing."

ruqaiyah paused, letting her words sink in. she could see the flash of pain in safeerah's eyes, but she wasn’t sure if it was from her words or from the constant pressure that came with being the leader of the tor now. she hated that it was safeerah’s burden, but someone had to carry it. "you don’t need to be this... soft, safeerah. i know you have it in you to lead. but stop pretending you're only seeking justice. what you want is revenge. and that’s okay. you deserve to be able to come down on it all." ruqaiyah’s gaze flickered to the other side of the balcony, a part of her always alert, always calculating. "and bash can do to aditya toland what he done to dante uller." the landscape stretched out before them, a reminder of just how much power safeerah could wield, if only she'd stop questioning it.

she took another slow drag from her cigarette, eyeing her cousin more closely. "and speaking of things you want, what’s this about love? i still don’t get it. what do you see in a man, safeerah? someone who can make you swoon like that myrish dancer?" ruqaiyah let out a short, sarcastic laugh. "you can’t be serious. you want someone with passion? fine, but you also need someone who understands the world. not some fool who will get you into trouble with his ‘artistic heart.’ artists are living from payment to payment, and are pretty much without income."

she flicked the ash from her cigarette, her face hardening, as if she’d already made her judgment. "you want power. you want security. you want someone who gets it. not some fool who’ll spend all his time serenading you. trust me, i know." ruqaiyah’s eyes darkened, remembering her own situation with ravi. it was an alliance, not love, and she had learned the hard way that it was better that way. "and then there's me," ruqaiyah added with a sharp smile. "i'll find someone for you, once you've handled your little jester problem. a man who knows what it means to rule. someone who'll keep you safe, while you make your mark on the tor." she paused, glancing at safeerah. "just don’t get lost in your fantasies, cousin. the world isn’t that simple."

ruqaiyah’s eyes softened for a moment, the smoke from her cigarette rising and vanishing into the night air. there was so much more she wanted to say, but she kept her thoughts to herself. safeerah needed to think, needed to decide what kind of woman she wanted to be. but in the end, they both knew what needed to be done. "armaan yronwood."

safeerah studied her friend curiously, unsure if ruqaiyah could really have done such a thing if her old flame had showed up at her doorstep, but there was no point in digging. the jordayne knew the other well enough to know that if she wanted her to know something, she'd say it. she did not want to think about devani, about the tolands. the subject only fuelled the unfamiliar anger inside her. but she did note of ruqayiah's words about not trusting devani. yet it was not so simple. ghost hill would remain even after aditya lost his head, the tor, and ghost hill would still share a border. sometimes, often in the darkest hours of the night, she thought about erasing the border altogether. if she was ready for war, she could double her lands in size, remove the threat of the tolands forever. but at what cost? she could not bear the thought of seeing men slaughtered, families broken, all because of her own anger. and there was still the matter of the volantis to be dealt with. she did not plan to let them escape without ensuring justice for rashid either, although that matter was much more complicated. “i will keep it in mind. you know i'd rather not have to trust a toland ever again.” saf could promise her oldest friend that, but she could promise more than that. she had to walk whatever path showed itself.

she had to agree with her cousin. she hated to see her mother hurt, to hear her weep for the son lost, for the daughter traumatised. safeerah remembered the look on her mother's face when she had told her eldest daughter that the future of their house was her responsibility now, that she was sorry she had to carry it. and saf had wept then and begged the gods to send rashid back to them. “because bad people still exist.” their ill fortune had been the direct consequence of the decisions of people who had no love in their hearts. then qaiyah spoke of bash just ending aditya's life, but saf quickly shook her head. “no, i want justice the right way. i want him to be condemned by his peers. i want everyone to hear what kind of man he is.” not just in dorne, but beyond their borders as well. safeerah could claim she was purely after justice, but she also knew deep in her heart that was not true. she said none of this to ruqiayah though, but she seemed to already know that justice and revenge had started to overlap for saf.

a dark cloud had fallen on her as she spoke of the tolands, but she let out a weak laugh, allowing herself to be distracted. “have mercy on them, qaiyah, halima might be worse than the most fearsome guard dog.” she smiled then, her eyes as soft as her words. if there was one thing safeerah knew she did well, it was filling her friend with confidence. perhaps ru had no need for it, but that had never stopped her from doing it before. “why would he want anyone else when he has you? there are none in dorne, or even in westeros, who can outshine you.” the words were easy for her to say, and she did also believe them, but she knew that the heart worked in mysterious ways. even saf was pressed to admit that being with one person for the rest of life seemed a difficult task. she had plenty of love in her heart, more than one person would ever need. she also knew ru's impending wedding was not one of love, it was a deal, an alliance, and that made it easier for either of them to stray.

speaking of marriage, she cast aside the gloom and grinned while she pretended to think about it. “alright, fine, but you better find me someone handsome.” safeerah knew that she'd had to marry soon. she was not against the idea at all. she did crave a partner, an equal, someone to share the burden of ruling the tor with. but she hoped that there was room for love in her marriage, and she also hoped her future husband would accept certain freedoms in their marriage. “do you remember that dancer from myr? with the scar across his eye? someone like him. he had so many talents.” safeerah smirked before letting out a bright laugh. it was no secret among those closest to her that she had taken him to her bed after his performances. he travelled with her to the tor, and extended his stay multiple times, before continuing on his tour. “i want someone who has a passion that drives them, someone who devotes themselves to their call in life.”

female awesome meme; 4/5 female antagonists: regina george (mean girls) “you can go shave your back now. bye.”

gif request meme:

@manbunjon requested: asoiaf + favourite location

SABRINA CARPENTER Espresso (Behind the Scenes)