★

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

★

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.

★

there were lessons learned and lessons forgot, time and time again; felt in the early days of girlhood, where what lay behind the thin veil of the grace of the evening's bed curtain would be enough to cause shockwaves rolling through the halls. lessons of what it felt like to be the centre of something, of being wanted; her spiteful edge had no doubt made her unapproachable and unreliable in regard to friendships.

lessons learned in realising that one could become swept up in the moment, and lessons learned in the cruel reality of hindsight. lessons learned, and lessons forgot; for much to her dismay, the twisting feeling in the pit of her stomach was one of intense jealousy.

gods knew directly what it was relating to, the type of jealousy that was always quick to spring to her mind at the mention of the younger lord of hellholt: but perhaps jealousy in the knowledge that for years, devani had been free to do what she wanted. be who she wanted.

ruqaiyah squeezed a lemon into her goblet, as she did with every drink, staring directly into the gaze of devani toland. "don't call me that." she spoke, dropping all pretence. dropping all formalities.

"stay forever. leave tomorrow. remember. or don't. whatever you do, you have no friend, ally or familiarity in me."

the world had been seen, lessons learned; and in the end, it felt as though the woman sat across from her had done so much. stayed the same whilst changing. and ruqaiyah had remained the same as she always had; the vision of perfection in the eyes of her parents. parent. and now she sat across from her, clearly attempting to make her feel jealous; rub the salt into her wound and hold her into her place whilst it burned.

"now, let us listen to the music....the only show any of us care for." she put on a patronising smile as a swift boundary was drawn in a knife, yet, her hands dug into her skirts.

a cool eyebrow raised, a flicker of something triumphant behind devani's eyes. she wasn't sure - with ruqaiyah, she wasn't sure she'd ever be sure of anything - but she thought that perhaps she could detect a slight hint of something that looked like jealousy.

she smiled then, not the smirk of before but a sloping grin that was perhaps incongruous with the mood that had settled over her when dante uller's name was first mentioned. it did not have to go this way. despite what people may have assumed about her, given the way that she lived her life, devani was not the argumentative sort. the fact it went this way was down to ru, and ru alone, but devani had been pushed too far. how was it that ruqaiyah always knew what to say, what buttons to push to send her over the edge, even after all these years?

"of course i did." she scoffed. "in fact, he was my first port of call when i returned. i've spent more time at hellholt than ghost hill since i returned." even if she was wrong, if it wasn't jealousy ruqaiyah was feeling, there was a grim sort of satisfaction in the fact that she had, at least, proven ruqaiyah wrong.

"i think you have gotten me all wrong, ru." she had meant to call her lady dayne, but the habit had yet to die. "perhaps you forget. i never claimed to have been right." and that was the difference between the two. ruqaiyah demanded perfection, where devani embraced the absence of it.

there had been times, whilst she had been away, as recently as six months ago, where she had found something that reminded her of ruqaiyah. she had sent it to starfall, with no name, and no note. had her trinkets been received? did ruqaiyah know who carefully wrapped them in scented silks, and sent them across the sea?

devani snorted. if ruqaiyah meant to unnerve her by pointing out aditya toland's flaws, she would get nothing but agreement from devani. "if i waited for aditya to protect me, i'd be waiting a long time." in her disdain for her brother, she was perhaps the clearest she had been all night. "but yes. i do recall my time in starfall. glad to hear that you do, also."

had ruqaiyah realised she had let the mask slip? that her own lips had informed all who still listened to their terse words that the two had spent time together. they were not strangers.

"i'm not sure yet." in truth, she wasn't. "i'm here for now."

★

"too pretty for the likes of you. even a mask can't be fixing all that." and for a woman who believed herself to have all the grace of the stars that appeared in the evening, there was absolutely no hint of grace in monitoring the way in which ruqaiyah reached forward to grab hold of her mask again. her hands were like vipers, and snatched it back from the silver string, her face one of utter bitchy contempt as she watched the lady of house toland swing the mask around on one of her fingers.

she tugged it back from devani then, like a bratty spoiled child rather than the oldest daughter of the illustrious house dayne. "you seemed proud enough. not a hint of shame on you." it was the closest thing to a veiled reference to what it was ruqaiyah had witnessed so many years ago: how she had quietly gasped, and how it had struck and punctured an already wounded ego.

"now let go and go speak to whoever it is is willing to be your friend, before i send you into that fountain behind you." she all but hissed beneath her breath, stepping forward to close the distance between the pair. it appeared to outsiders as though they were standing closely together, both holding onto the pale pink mask. she was so sure people were watching, and the strap of her dress was all but pressing into her bare skin; it made her purse her lips, entirely unsatisfied.

she wished to push her over, like they were mere girls again. she instead continued to play tug of war over a mask of all things. "or maybe you were watching and waiting to unmask me. you always had the desperate urge to be the first." there was a double meaning there, kissing her teeth and rolling lilac orbs that no other woman in all of dorne held. "oh, get some sleep and stop thinking of me at night." and she finally managed to tug her mask back from devani, only for it to break.

she stomped beneath the skirts of her pale pink dress, throwing it down onto the ground in a huff. "why would you do that? do you know how much time i spent on the detailing? it's chikankari. and you BROKE IT."

her prize in her hand, devani poked her finger through the eyehole of the pale pink mask, swinging it around in careless circles. she was unphased by the venom in ruqaiyah's glare - if anything, it only made her own expression all the more smug. "pretty mask," she taunted. "different." her own mask was not quite so delicate, a gaudy display of colour and embellishment, and her grinning, mocking mouth revealed where it stopped upon the bridge of her nose.

"oh, i am not so proud. you know that." her voice was almost cheerful in tone. this time, she would not let ruqaiyah get the better of her. why was it she could not leave this woman alone, let her have the distance she so desperately craved from devani? but then, surely there had been enough distance between them already. she could not change the past, could not rewrite what had already been written. and yet, how easy it was to fall into old habits.

ruquiyah wished to act as though she did not exist, and that, to devani, was the worst insult of all. the ire, she could take, even the insults, but to be ignored? no matter where she had gone in the world, she had never been unnoticed. always a delicate balancing act, she liked to be seen, to push that which she wanted people to know to the forefront to conceal that which she didn't.

and what was it that she wanted ruqaiyah to know? everything, and yet, nothing at all.

the gold collected, she held it up for a moment, nodding at ruqaiyah over it, as though to say thanks, to an onlooker, though she knew ruqaiyah enough to know that she would see it as a taunt. perhaps it was. there was a satisfaction in knowing her actions still had some power. if she could not coax words of affection from her again, then this was the next best thing. there was a finer line between caring for someone and being driven mad by them than most people realised.

laughter followed the words, a shake of her head sending her hair flying over her shoulder. "oh, ru. those aren't the rules of the game. if you wanted someone to unmask you, then they should have been quicker about it, anyway." but curiosity nipped at her. who was it that ruqaiyah dayne wished to lower her mask?

she could not help but ask. "who did you have this little arrangement with, then? was it ravi? safeerah jordayne? who else is it you spend your time with these days?" who has your attention? who is in your bed? the questions she did not ask lingered on her tongue.

★

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."

♛ → DORNE present(s) RUQAIYAH DAYNE, the LADY of STARFALL. when the dragons danced in the sky they hoped ALL would still die. the TWENTY NINE year old CISFEMALE who was RELIABLE & MATURE before they saw the first of the flames, is now CONTROLLING & EGOTISTICAL after seeing the last. they’re often associated with the sound of classical dance within the halls of starfall, the sight of a shooting star, and the rigid adherence to ancient dornish customs - both good, and bad. bio / pinterest / spotify

ruqaiyah or qaiyah (known strictly by her friends and family) is the secondborn child of house dayne - the perfect child, the one who has never made a mistake. her entire life has revolved around the will of her father and mother, dornish society, and the betterment of her family.

she is the dornish barbie - she is always wearing shades of pink or purple somewhere in her outfit, and is always seen with glossy lips. she is always overdressed, always late, and is never embarrassed about it.

due to the ancestral lineage of house dayne, ruqaiyah truly believes them to better than all the other dornish houses - and this is reflected in the size of her ego, and her head. she will act like servants are not in the room, and is known to go off on them often; she always has had a history of being a bully to girls who came to starfall to learn classical dance.

finds great enjoyment in rejecting men's advances, will embarrass them; if it is in public, that is even better.

does not believe in the concept of equality - some people are simply better than others, and thus, are in the positions they are in. poor people are poor because they do not work hard enough. social mobility? not a thing. stick to your own.

she truly believes she is a princess already in waiting, having already been betrothed to prince ravi of house martell since they were early teenagers. ruqaiyah truly believes she is worthy of such a title, as house martell looking at any other but house dayne would be nothing but a slight. she is already jaded she was not chosen to marry the eldest ruling prince, but considering how that turned out, guesses it was for the best.

due to the conservative nature of house dayne compared to the rest of dorne, ruqaiyah is very private about being a lesbian and being an atheist. she has known for years, though does not speak on such matters: she believes the rest of dorne is hedonistic in ignoring family responsibility such as child bearing, and wrapped up in superstition and ritual.

a serial smoker; though this is something she is hiding from her family. she smokes far too much, and probably needs to stop asap.

hobbies: a custom couture girl, she has a wicked eye for fabrics and designs and is known to design the best dornish outfits. it is canon in dorne that she designs the trendiest outfits, and her style remains very traditional. she enjoys collecting rare jewellery pieces and has a vast collection of her own she is very proud of. she also enjoys singing in a traditional indian style, though is not actually very good at it; she is far better at reciting ancient poetry.

★

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: @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."

★

ruqaiyah tilted her head, a cascade of dark waves brushing against her shoulder as she regarded devani with an expression both amused and cutting. the faint flicker of vulnerability in devani’s words—i’m not going anywhere—was enough to make ruqaiyah’s lips twitch into a slow, deliberate smile. “not going anywhere, are you?” she said, her tone as smooth as polished glass. “i suppose the winds of essos didn’t carry all your courage away, then. or perhaps...” she paused, her violet eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“you’ve simply run out of places to hide.” there was always something else, some other reason; it was never truthful. it was never simple. everything always had a million reasons.

she took a step forward, deliberate, as if each movement carried its own weight. the years had added a new polish to devani, but ruqaiyah could see the cracks beneath the surface—the hesitation, the weariness that lingered just behind her carefully curated smile. she had seen devani all but stripped bare once before, not just in body but in soul, and the memory lingered like a brand. she had seen her too, in ways no other had ever seen her. no one but her.

“you’ve always been good at playing pretend.” ruqaiyah continued, her voice light, almost conversational, though her words were anything but. “did you like the view?” she asked, her voice dropping, rich with something almost predatory. do you enjoy watching me? “back then, when you slipped into my bed and whispered things you only ever dared in the dark? did you enjoy seeing how far you could push me, how far i would fall for you?” her jaw tightened as a shadow flickered over her expression.

ruqaiyah's words were intended to slice, to cut through the many, many defences devani had thrown up over the years to prevent anybody from knowing her and her secrets. devani could take the jibes and the insults, could let them roll from her back without much trouble, but what bothered her was that ruqaiyah saw the truth of who devani was. it had been years, and yet she saw devani plain, and that was an unsettling thought.

"does that make you the flame?" she replied, smoothly. "burning so bright? you are still here, ruqaiyah, when you are free to turn and walk away. you could have done the moment you saw me, if you wanted me to stay away. funny, that."

they both knew it would do no good. walking away might have ended the conversation for the day, but devani would have sought her out again, like a dog needing to be chased off each morning, and returning without fail the next. and so, around it goes.

"habit's broken," her words were a little more decisive than her previous airy tone. "i'm not going anywhere, ru. i'm getting too old to run."

it was not the whole truth, but it was enough of it. she hadn't known, when she'd arrived back from essos, if she would stay or not, and though a part of her still longed to go again, to leave these shores without a trace of herself behind, she was resigning herself to the fact that wasn't a path left open to her. she needed to stay.

only a mere trace of her careless smile lingered on her lips. for a moment, the two merely looked at each other, the silence stretching for a beat longer than it should. and then, ru stepped back, and it was all broken in an instant. and there was a flicker of something, too fleeting to name, and too sharp to ignore, that she pushed away before her own response came.

"feels like standing too close to the edge of a cliff and hoping the wind doesn't tip you over," the answer came to her tongue a little too quickly, too easily. "but," she shrugged. "i like the view from up there."