Who: @devanitoland When And Where: Sunspear, Shortly Following The Murder Of Dante Uller By Baashir Dayne

★

ruqaiyah tilted her head as ryon finished speaking, her lips curling into a smile so saccharine it was almost venomous. so she was spoiled. so she was pampered. so she was delusional. but it was what the world had expected of her; and she played that role ever so well. he claimed she enjoyed the game, and there was a spark of something within her amethyst orbs. "yes, and?" her fingers toyed idly with the delicate lace on her sleeve, as though his words had done little more than mildly entertain her.

"you are nothing special. i am being a good hostess." she let a beat of silence hang between them, savouring the moment like one might savour the anticipation before crushing an insect beneath their heel.

“you’re quite right, ryon,” she began softly, her voice almost gentle, like the calm before a storm, her hand twirling a strand of her thick silky hair around her finger. “i don’t understand men like you. how could i possibly? what could i, a daughter of starfall, the grace of the evening, ever learn from a... scavenger, clawing his way to scraps?” she gestured lazily towards him, her bracelets jangling softly with the movement as she let out a puff of smoke. “oh, but forgive me—‘lord’ of nightsong too now, isn’t it? how quaint.” she stepped closer, her gaze sharp and unyielding, almost as though she dared him to do something. she would scream, and then her brother would come and cut through him like he should be. insolent pup.

“i wonder…” her voice dipped lower, conspiratorial, as though she were letting him in on some great secret, “how long will it be before someone stronger pries it from your grasp?”

she laughed then, a soft, lilting sound, as though the very idea amused her beyond measure. she enjoyed winding him up, though she knew she very possibly should not - still, the concept of being untouchable reigned true in her mind. “you say i’ll always be left guessing about men like you, but you’ve already shown your hand. you mistake insolence for wit, idiocy for strength, and worst of all, proximity for power. stepping closer doesn’t make you formidable, ryon." there was judgement and pure bitchiness in each of her words, and at one point, she exhaled a cloud of smoke within his face.

"you'll loose it within the year. watch." it were a bet she made in this corner of starfall's gardens, though she knew not what she would put on the line.

Ryon tilted his head, a slow grin creeping across his face as Ruqaiyah’s words lashed at him like a whip. He didn’t flinch, didn’t waver—if anything, he looked amused, as if her venom fed some deep, twisted part of him. He chuckled low in his throat, the sound rich and maddeningly calm.

“Insects, is it?” he repeated, stepping closer, his movements unhurried but deliberate. “Funny. You compare me to something so small, yet here you are, swatting at me as if I’ve already gotten under your skin.” He gestured lightly to her flushed cheeks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you call me delusional. I’m starting to think you enjoy this little game more than you’d like to admit, my lady.”

Ryon let her words about Sunspear linger in the air for a moment before he responded, his voice taking on a mocking sweetness. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I strike a nerve? Perhaps my self-image isn’t the one you should be worrying about. You seem awfully defensive for someone who claims they couldn’t care less about what I think.”

When she mentioned his persistence lacking intelligence, he laughed outright. “Persistence without intelligence, you say? Well, I’ll leave the cleverness to you, my lady. After all, you’ve clearly mastered the art of speaking down to others from your lofty perch. Very noble of you.”

At her sharp retort about her tower, his smile only grew sharper, his voice dropping to a low murmur, full of taunting mirth. “Your tower, your home. You’ve made that very clear, "Princess" of Starfall.” He leaned in slightly, just enough to make his presence feel heavier, though he never crossed a line. “But if you truly think you don’t need to understand the world outside that tower, then you’re right about one thing—you don’t understand men like me. And that, dear lady, will always leave you guessing.”

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."

Me core

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 leaned back slightly, her glossy lips curving into a slow, calculated smile. the torches cast a golden light over her pale lavender gown, their glow playing across the delicate white gold embellishments that shimmered as though stars themselves adorned her. her hands remained extended, palm up, though her posture was anything but open.

“the stars are willing to speak, you say?” her voice lilted with amusement, soft and melodic, though laced with something sharp beneath. “how convenient for you, zahra. they always seem to have just enough to keep people intrigued, don’t they?” she tilted her head, dark hair cascading over one shoulder like a waterfall of silk. her amethyst eyes, so renowned in the courts of dorne, locked onto zahra’s with an intensity that made lesser women falter.

as zahra’s hands traced hers, ruqaiyah feigned a contemplative expression, though her thoughts were less charitable. strength to lead? to endure? how utterly unoriginal. does she think this is what i wish to hear? she resisted the urge to snatch her hands away, opting instead to let her fingers twitch, an unsubtle display of impatience.

“great responsibility,” she repeated slowly, her tone a perfect mimicry of zahra’s gentle cadence. the girl then let out a cruel giggle, a jewelled hand resting upon her jawline as she looked upon the woman who sat across from her. such beauty, it woud be enough to turn her green someday. ruqaiyah’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments as zahra’s words settled into the air between them. “a decision that weighs on me?” she echoed, her tone deceptively light, though her fingers tensed slightly in zahra’s grasp.

her amethyst eyes narrowed, studying the seer with the intensity of someone probing for a hidden insult. does she think to pry into my betrothal? does she dare to insinuate that the choice is not already made? she resisted the urge to strike the seer that sat across the table from her. the thought rankled her more than she let show. ruqaiyah was a master of poise, after all, and the court of sunspear was no place for a crack in one’s armor. but still, zahra’s words lingered, needling her like a thorn caught beneath her flawless skin.

"what do you have in that empty head of yours?" ruqaiyah asked, her voice purposefully getting louder, as though she sought to embarrass her by ensuring others would hear their conversation. a fake, poisoned smile was still plastered over her glossed lips. "do you suggest that prince ravi would seek to marry another but me?" they were both stupid; zahra and that foolish sister of hers, that did not know how to take a joke. that did not know how to let go of her shawl.

the warm hum of conversation and music around them felt distant as zahra faced ruqaiyah, her words cutting but absorbed with quiet resilience. the dancer's fingers lightly smoothed the edge of her gown, grounding herself as she stood before the high lady. she had long learned that responding to remarks like these, no matter how sharp, was a path fraught with trouble. her smile was small but steady, a shield against the sting of the words.

“of course, my lady,” shesaid gently, her voice calm and even. she let her gaze drift briefly to the glow of torches illuminating the grand hall before returning to the other. “the stars are always willing to speak, even when we may not wish to hear them.” ter tone held no malice, only quiet patience.

she stepped closer, now, lowering herself gracefully onto the cushioned bench opposite the lady of starfall. taking the other's outstretched hands, zahra felt a familiar mix of uncertainty and resolve. though the night’s tension tugged at her, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand. reading palms had always been a comfort—structured, almost meditative. a way to find meaning, even when her own questions remained unanswered.

“the reach has been kind to you,” she murmured, her touch light as her thumbs traced the lines of ru's palms. “there’s strength here—strength to lead, but also to endure. i see someone who carries great responsibility, and with it, great expectation.”

a faint crease appeared on zahra’s brow as her focus deepened. “but there’s something else… a decision that weighs on you, perhaps. something you must choose, though the choice isn’t clear yet.”

looking up, zahra searched ruqaiyah’s face, her expression kind despite the edge in the woman’s earlier words. “does this sound familiar, my lady?” she asked softly. a flicker of unease brushed the edges of her thoughts, though she pushed it away. Whatever weighed on the other wasn’t for the dancer of salt shore to know—unless ru chose to share.

★

ruqaiyah flicked the cigarette in her hand, sending a thin trail of ash spiralling into the breeze. her amethyst eyes, gleaming even in the dim balcony light, locked onto safeerah with an intensity that made the other woman shift ever so slightly in how ruqaiyah viewed her - less her friend, but rather, an individual that needed to be reminded of a few things. the mention of her brother had cause a thread to snap, there was no difference between uttering those words and striking her cleanly across her porcelain face.

"don't bring up my brother." she echoed, her voice low and biting, lacking any warmth; she found herself holding onto the smoke, and for a split moment, she was half tempted to bring the heated end of it upon safeerah's skin for making such a remark the thought flickered out of existence in her brain, and she moved her feet from where she was sat to rest upon the table between them. "my brother is alive, thankfully. do not jinx it with your desperate need to prove a point." how dare she? did she secretly wish for some wicked thing to befall bash? all because rashid had been foolish enough to get himself killed?

"how quaint of you to think i'd consider that luck. i'm saying you are in a position you'll thrive in." she tapped the stone balustrade with her nails, one perfectly polished pink tip after another. the words came quicker now, sharper, though ruqaiyah didn’t seem to notice the heat rising in her own tone. ruqaiyah tilted her head, studying safeerah as if seeing her for the first time. "you know, it’s funny. you say you’ll do what’s best, yet you bristle at every suggestion. is it your conviction you’re so protective of, or your pride?" she let the question hang in the air, unspoken venom laced through her words - the mention of baashir had all but riled her up, and now she found herself speaking with no regard or care for what the consequences were.

"and yet here we are. you, turning that sharp little wit of yours on me, as if i’m the enemy." her lips curved into a smile, a thin, brittle thing. "don’t pretend you haven’t wondered, cousin, whether it’s better to be the adviser than the ruler. i’d offer you the trade if i could, though i’m not sure you’d last a month at starfall. no... you’d hate it, safeerah. all those expectations. no time to dance in the rain here." her comments were scathing as she watched her smoke on the ground, she extended her heel to crush it beneath her. her gaze softened for a fleeting moment, though the steel in her voice did not. "but don’t worry. i won’t ‘advise’ you anymore on the tolands. you’ve made it clear you don’t need my help."

the shift in conversation did little to cool her temper, though she allowed herself a short, dry laugh. now they were arguing about nothing. "and love," she scoffed, as though the very word was a tasteless joke. "you think i don’t know what you want, safeerah? a ‘real connection,’ a ‘true partner,’" she mimicked, her voice lilting mockingly. "you don’t need to say it—I can see it written all over your face."

safeerah had more patience with ruqaiyah generally, even though they were as different as night and day. but she felt hurt by how her closest friend reacted so coldly. it bothered her immensely that qaiyah thought she should be lucky. today her impatience was on full display. “oh yeah, lucky me. maybe baashir will end up being brutally murdered, and you can have starfall, and be just as lucky.” the sarcasm usually came out when she was agitated, and especially with her cousin. she was capable of giving back whenever ruqaiyah decided to be less than kind. perhaps that was why their friendship worked despite it all.

she grew serious as she stared at her cousin. “i do not need your advice on how to deal with the tolands, cousin. i will do what i think is best, and we will speak no more of it.” she did not want to hear anything more about aditya toland from anyone else, not even her closest friend. saf already had to fight against her own anger, she did not need the anger of everyone else on top of it. it was her choice now, and she would follow the path that rashid had originally laid. she wondered if every ruling lady or lord had to deal with seemingly everyone around them questioning their decisions. safeerah hated it because she could often feel so sure in her convictions, only to end up lying awake at night questioning them because someone else did.

now she was in a sour mood, so she turned her head to look out of the open window. “of course, i cannot marry an artist from the streets, i am not stupid.” that was not even close to what she had meant. saf understood her future husband would be of noble birth, but she disagreed with ruqaiyah about what she required of a husband. she did not need someone who wanted to rule with an iron first, she needed someone who understood the principles of house jordayne. “i just-” but the words died in her throat as she sighed. but she just what? she wanted love. she wanted a real connection, a true partner in life. she looked at ruqaiyah again, and she knew that the last thing she wanted was what her friend was so focused on getting. she did not want to sit and wonder if her betrothed even liked her, if he still wanted to marry her. she could say that to ru, but she thought it would be cruel. despite being annoyed with her cousin and friend, she could not deal that particular blow. she did not enjoy cruelty. safeerah never finished her sentence, knowing whatever she said would end up sounding weak in the ears of the dayne.

saf could almost have guessed what name would come out of ruqaiyah's mouth as she spoke of someone who knew how to rule, who could keep her safe. she also knew her friend would never suggest a lord from a smaller house. “armaan.” she repeated slowly. the match itself was not strange. the daynes, jordaynes and yronwoods had an understanding, an alliance so to speak, but armaan's first marriage was a problem in safeerah's eyes. “you do realise that if i married armaan, his children would rule kingsgrave, yronwood and the tor? that stretch of land will be a fifth of dorne combined, if not more.” that would grant armaan power that could rival every other house in dorne. safeerah had grown up with armaan, she knew what kind of man he was, for better or worse. he was already powerful and rich, and giving his heirs more land was asking for trouble. not for her, of course, she trusted the yronwoods as much as she trusted the daynes even if they disagreed on some things. she had seen the friendship between armaan and rashid. but if she were to marry him, it should raise the eyebrow of everyone else in dorne. “there will be plenty of houses who will oppose it.”

★

ruqaiyah’s gaze did not falter. not once. she held herself with the same effortless poise that had been honed since birth, but beneath it—beneath the careful drape of silks and the steady weight of amethyst upon her wrists—there was something brittle. something that had yet to crack but threatened to, beneath the unbearable absurdity of it all. why were they doing this? she knew why she was doing this; because she would keep doing it, until she felt like her point had gotten across.

until devani felt like the most awful individual walking this land; and so in all their frustration, she barely took a moment to even fully listen to devani's words, constantly close to talking over her and doing so multiple times.

“you know me? are you dense?” her voice was light, conversational almost, as if amused by a foolish remark at court. “you know me yet you stand there, telling me my life is the reason i am angry with your decision. well my life is perfect, more perfect than you could ever even dream to get close to.” she exhaled sharply, glancing away, not because she was uncertain, but because devani toland had always been exhausting. she had always been insufferable, with her hunger for something more, for something beyond their shores, for a life that did not include ruqaiyah dayne. and that—that was what burned. it was not the leaving, nor even the years between them. it was this.

this moment, where devani stood before her, unwavering, as though she had not done something unforgivable. "you expect me to simply—what? accept that you do not understand why i am angry? as though i am the one being unreasonable?" her head tilted, and she let out a short, sharp breath, something caught between disbelief and scorn. "you knew exactly what you were doing, then and now." her voice rose, shrill and cutting, serrated with the weight of years left unspoken.

her hands clenched, nails digging into her palms, her breath quickening despite herself. "you. left." the words came hot, half lurching herself forward and stamping onto the ground as though she were a child having a tantrum. "you left me, and you never looked back for me. you left me, after agreeing that we would always have one another. you left me, after telling me there was no reason for you to look anywhere else. and now you return, not even with an apology, as some pathetic, empty carcass of yourself?" she took a step forward, close enough that she could see the flicker of something—something—in devani’s eyes. but it was not enough. nothing would be enough. "and you BLAME me?"

ruqaiyah had never wanted to beg for anything. she had never needed to. but gods, she hated the way her heart clenched as she awaited an answer. she hated that it mattered at all. "i hated you for this then, and i hate you for this now." she felt embarrassed, as though she had found herself tripping and entirely diving head first into some fantasy world she had made up in her head; only she had been told it was not made up. she had confirmed it for her, then she had embarrassed her. the feeling was a burning one, that of regret and embarrassment. "i will always hate you. i'll have you know, i wish you the worst. and more."

devani tilted her head slightly, studying with an intensity that had last been seen in her face long ago, suddenly more solemn. it was not the look of someone who had listened to ruqaiyah's word, and felt hurt or slighted by them. no ; when devani's lips parted, it was an expression of concern, as though she understood that she had pushed things too far.

and yet, was that not part of the issue? she could not help but push and poke. with everyone else in her life, she had been content to leave and be forgotten, to know her time in their life was brief. it was not the same with ruqaiyah, and she knew not why. perhaps because she had been the first, perhaps because her sudden departure, a decade and a half ago, had left no opportunity to close the door on what it was between them. it was not that this was the first time devani had to look in the face of someone she had left behind, for she had thought of ruqaiyah in the moments between departing and returning, the potential of whispered promises stamped on her in ways she did not care to admit aloud.

do you understand i would have done anything for you? do you understand what it is you have lost?

"i don't know of it," she conceded. "but i know you." ruqaiyah could pretend that she did not, that she had changed and grown beyond devani's recognition, but looking at her now, devani did not think that so. not in the way she acted, the way the wounds devani had given her still seemed to be raw in the way they were when she left, the way she sought to inflict wounds of her own rather than to understand.

"perhaps i am never satisfied." she would not deny the way whenever she came close to finding familiar, she ran from it, that she had never once settled before once again taking flight. it would be pointless. and still, a wry smile painted itself on her face. "do you think you'll fare better?" she asked, once again unable to stop herself from digging further. "that you won't look back on your own life with regret? maybe you already do. you are angry with me for leaving, because you wish you would have, too." despite her travels, the people she had known, devani still found herself unable to truly grasp the heart of the matter, and so instead, she flipped it into terms she could understand, into how she would feel if she were in ruqaiyah's shoes - jealous that the other had the courage to take their life into their own hands, rather than the alternative.

she did not know how to make it different. it was not even that she expected to pick up where they had left things. she were a fool, but not that much of one. it was simply that something was better than nothing - and what existed between them now, the tension and bitterness, wasn't nothing. it was as though they weren't fighting over old hurt, but the very idea that it had ever existed at all.

"as sure as i am that you would get great pleasure from seeing me on my knees," she drawled, unable to stop herself from making things suggestive. "it won't be the ending of me, ru. i've been there. i've done it, and come out the other end. but you... you stagnated. you're still where i left you."

# maybe she snapped

High School Musical 2 (2007)