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Katrina Kaif behind the scenes for Kalyan Jewellers

# maybe she snapped

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

★

"oh, you think persistence pays off?" ruqaiyah scoffed, her eyes flashing with disbelief as she leaned back slightly, hands on her hips. "you may have the persistence of an insect crawling towards its doom, but i don't think your persistence has quite the intelligence to back it up, do you?" she let out a little laugh, as though she were humoring him, her fingers lightly tapping on the sleeve of her blouse, as though her patience were thinning in the most delightful way.

"and as for laying myself down for sunspear—well, my darling, i think your ideas of what happens in sunspear might just be as delusional as your self-image. who needs to prove themselves to a fool like you?" she flicked her eyes over his face, no doubt relishing in the rise of her own words. but beneath it all, she was visibly bothered, her cheeks flushed with irritation, her brows furrowed in mock disgust. it was clear she found his very presence annoying—though she would never admit it aloud.

"you call yourself a man of persistence," ruqaiyah continued, her tone dripping with condescension, "and yet, i see you standing here, talking circles, hoping your wit might impress me into lifting my skirts for you. persistence without substance is just... noise." she laughed again, this time with more force, letting it hang in the air between them. her laugh was one of girlish nastiness. "you may try to stand tall in your own little world, ryon wyl, but you'll never stand taller than me. don't flatter yourself." when he mentioned her mother and her life in starfall, ruqaiyah's jaw clenched.

"a girl in her tower, is it?" she repeated with a raised brow, her voice suddenly dripping with venom. "my tower. my home." the more he spoke, the more ruqaiyah realized that he could hardly be taken seriously. what a laughable attempt at a challenge. he was like a child pretending at something he could never achieve, and yet, for reasons unknown to her, it irritated her beyond measure. she had to put him in his place—quickly and without mercy. "i do not need to understand the military conditions of this land, idiot. look at me."

"Well, if a man must lay himself down for the honorable and high house of Dayne." Ryon bowed dramatically, and then looked at her, stepping closer but still keeping the distance between them. She was a bitch by all counts, a charmingly cruel woman and that got his attention. Ryon liked antagonizing people as often as possible, he liked to see how fair to push people and then see how much further a man could go until the other could no longer take it.

"It's true, isn't it?" He spoke to her with the same tone, mirth dancing in his eyes. "One must prove themselves worthy for the positions they seek. Whether they be positions on the bedding of Sunspear or standing here in Starfall." They were the most arrogant house in all of Dorne only rivaled by Armaan Yronwood, though, clearly, he found Armaan to be more worthy of the arrogance considering the great history of his house, a Dornish king.

But, all of these Dawn Aged houses were the most arrogant of their regions.

"I don't know." And tis time he closed the distance, half smiling as he looking toward the sky and then over at her. "Persistence pays off for men like me."

But ego, ego was a dangerous thing. And for the Wyl of Wyl to be called a mere bannerman was an affront he wouldn't stand for from her or anyone. "I wouldn't expect you to understand what men do. A girl in her tower for so many years. Staring down over the vastness of Starfall. One must be exhausted fetching their mother's pitched learning to rule."

"I'm sure the sister of the Sword of the Morning and the one with Valyrain steel in the mountains, evening or night or something," HIs disrespectful was casual, barely careful in his wording, "appreciates the military strength of the realm. If you understand such things."

who: @halimayronwood what: semi-flashback thread set before the dornish court depart for casterly rock when and where: sunspear, the first time halima and ruqaiyah cross paths since ruqaiyah arrives with baashir from starfall.

ruqaiyah of house dayne did not think about the death rattle anymore; that which had come from human lips rather than the ominous sound that came from the most fearful of serpents - she did not think about the facial expressions that crossed over each of the gargalens upon hearing the news that there had been a body found some leagues away. she only remembered her own body becoming very still that moment, her gaze daring not to meet the gaze she knew would not be looking in her direction.

the indifference was numbing, and it came not from a place of desperate guilt and repression, but rather an avoidance and refusal to take even a hint of responsibility for her actions. ruqaiyah dayne did not think of the blood of farah gargalen upon her hands, because she did not think the blood was ever upon her hands. rather the skirts of her dress at the hands of the girl's own foolishness, how they had called for her to remain in the carriage - how she had reminded her that the terrain this far from the tor was rocky.

"how is having your own space away from armaan?" ruqaiyah asked, a goblet of wine upon her lips as she sat across from the lady halima of house yronwood; if one was the crack, the other was the whip. an endless, vicious cycle of narcissism that continued to swirl, even as they sat across from one another. she were referring to the regency of kingsgrave the lady across from her now held, in the name of two sons of house yronwood - ishaan and kabir.

"a household of your own made up of manwoodys and servants…the same thing, in reality."

"your subjects seem keen to try and listen to our conversation." her tone was louder now, loud enough to ensure the manwoody party and their associates would hear her - calling them subjects, equating halima to their sovereign. it only made her smile more, a callous, immature one. "it is a good thing the heirs of kingsgrave look to a yronwood for their regent. that way, kingsgrave will never be sacked by a vulture king again." and she raised a toast. gods knew joy manwoody only spoke of all the work she needed to do to fix the lands that had been pillaged.

"is it as awful as she made it out to be?"

★

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

★

a part of her was perplexed upon realising that the ghost of ghost hill had remained standing before her, gaze sweeping over the grace of the morning as though in any moment the mosaic would shatter, and this was the last moment. perhaps she had not been expecting to see her here, and there was some egotistical surge at the idea that she managed to render devani speechless; for once.

but then again, why was she thinking as though she still knew devani toland? who even was she?

why was she thinking she could guess anything about the woman's behaviour, as though they had not been strangers for over a decade. she did not know her anymore, and that creeping realisation came as ruqaiyah still refused to look toward her. looking at anyone, or anything else; ever the social climbing butterfly, she would indulge in mindless chatter if it meant she did not need to face what was brewing.

and when she looked briefly at her deewani devani, she noted there was a usual smirk on her features; and she felt her stomach drop.

how? how was it someone was able to still put up such a facade, such a portrait? was it not exhausting? would it not be better should they sit across from one another and pretend they did not need to speak. her brother had just murdered her best friend, there was an impenetrable excuse.

"lady toland." ruqaiyah greeted, her tone seemingly posed and graceful; she spoke with the prejudice and ancient lineage of starfall, and it's descendents. she felt as though the sun, the moon and the stars were falling on her this moment. she ignored the slight ache that came in her chest at the compliment; how words of affirmation from her had always had such an effect on her. made her feel like her heart was blooming - the first rain of the year.

"yes, i do." she responded, her own pride ringing true in her words. there was a dramatic pause, awkward in it's very essence as she looked back at him. contemplating whether to even say her next words. "...so do you, i suppose." ruqaiyah decided, in that moment, that she would act as though nothing had ever happened. there was a smile being offered in her direction, an olive branch; and the smile in return was one of pure civility, and falsehood.

ruqaiyah liked fashion. devani knew she did. they could talk about that. "nice sari...essosi silk?" she asked, reaching forward to take a piece of the sweet barfi. "where about?" where have you been? where did you go? whatever it was that made things awkward, no longer existed. what was their to think fondly on and even remember? nothing. these were two strangers sat at a table. she did not remember. she would not remember. she leaned forward, looking for her brother in the crowd, or for lady jordayne. "do you find sunspear much different?"

devani's reintroduction to dorne had been slow. she did not burst back into the lives of everyone she knew all at once, a glorious firework that demanded all attention. no, she had opted for a more gradual approach. first to dante, which had gone well, then to her family, which hadn't. she had spent the weeks since her feet had once again touched dornish sand slowly, steadily, creeping her way back into the lives of those she had known before, and all she hadn't.

it had been a plan of mixed effects. successful, in that she had managed to reintegrate herself without too much bother. flawed in that, despite her caution, she had still attracted the wrong sort of attention. that wasn't devani's fault, though. she certainly could not control what people were doing around her. without knowing it, the actions of the man she had called her dearest friend had left her between a rock and a hard place. and so, despite her instincts screaming at her to flee, she stayed, and she smiled and sympathised and pretended like she understood why dante uller had to die in order to keep her own back free of any knives.

despite recent events, she had been back long enough to be comfortable. she had spoken to most of those she had left behind her, and had largely been forgiven for the transgressions of choosing herself. there was only one familiar face she was doggedly avoiding, but she deemed sunspear a safe place to hide from ruqaiyah dayne.

until it wasn't.

devani approached her seat, and she froze. for the first time in many, many years, the wandering lady of ghost hill didn't know how to react, for there was ruqaiyah, no longer a girl freshly emerging from adolescence but a woman grown. her eyes met devani's, and she saw that there was recognition there. it was enough to knock the breath from her lungs.

and then she looked away, but devani did not, could not. she stood there, hovering for a moment, her eyes fixed on drinking in every aspect of her appearance in silence, noting what had changed and what had not.

after what felt like eternity, but may have been mere seconds (devani didn't know. it was as though time had ceased to pass), she took her seat, taking longer than necessary to arrange herself in it to delay the inevitable, to compose herself. when there were no more skirts to straighten and cutlery to rearrange, nothing left but to speak.

she lifted her head, her lost expression gone and replaced with her trademark smirk, but her eyes told a different story. in them was all the panic of a wild animal, poised to flee from a predator's hunt.

"hello, ru," the old, affectionate nickname slipped from her lips before she could stop herself. she desperately tried to recall what was said when last they saw each other. would it be better if their parting had been on a soft note, or a blaze of fire? devani didn't know, and couldn't remember.

she had left so many behind, and within a few months across the narrow sea, she had stopped thinking of them at all. even dante uller had crossed her mind only rarely. but ruqaiyah dayne had found herself the subject of devani's thoughts more than most, an echo on her heartbeat that she had tried and failed to drown out again and again and again. how could she put that into words? what could she say that would ever live up to fourteen years of silent thoughts from half a world away?

"you look well." complimenting her appearance seemed like a safe bet. once more, devani's eyes sought ru's out, but she seemed determined to look anywhere that was not devani. "it's good to see you." if she wasn't so focused on keeping a smile on her face, devani would have winced at the utter drivel falling from her lips.

★

ruqaiyah dayne’s smile curved slowly, a perfectly practiced arc that revealed nothing of the thoughts stirring behind her violet eyes. she allowed lord tirius rowan to take her hand, his lips brushing it with all the decorum of a reachman’s chivalry. his restraint amused her, though she made no effort to show it. instead, she tipped her head slightly, letting the shimmering folds of her white shawl catch the sunlight, her every movement deliberate, her every angle framed as if for a portrait.

“my lord rowan,” she said, her voice as smooth and honeyed as the wines of arbor. “you honor me.” her tone was light, almost playful, the words brushing the surface of their conversation without delving into its depths. she could feel his gaze lingering on her, but she refused to meet it too directly, instead letting her lashes lower just enough to seem demure.

“new to joining the court, you say?” she let out a soft, breathy laugh, a sound like bells. “i suppose you could say that. sunspear’s court is...well. it is no starfall.” her lips, glistening with gloss, curved just a touch more. “starfall is unmatched, the very jewel of dorne. you must see it someday, my lord, if only to understand what it means to live surrounded by true beauty.” she let her words hang for a moment, savoring the way they seemed to catch him off guard.

ruqaiyah had long since mastered the art of making men fumble, not through overt advances, but by pulling their focus and tilting their world just enough to make them aware of her control. and yet it never went anywhere, for she would rather sit back and look upon their sisters or wives.

“but yes,” she continued, her tone light once more, as if brushing away the matter entirely, “it is my first time at court. my lord brother has always insisted that starfall required my presence, though i suspect he simply wished to keep me hidden away.” she lifted her gaze to meet his now, bold and unflinching, her violet eyes gleaming like polished amethysts.

her words danced around the obvious tensions between their kingdoms, careful not to reveal too much. instead, she tilted her chin slightly, allowing her hair to spill like a cascade of silk over one shoulder. “tell me, lord rowan,” she said, her voice almost a purr, “what brings the men of the reach so close to dorne’s waters? surely it is not merely the promise of silks and sweet smells.” her smile returned, sharper now, a blade hidden within silk. "many call you pirates."

The Dornish were people of questionable character and low repute. House Rowan themselves held an ages long animosity with those of House Wyl and by extension the Martells who fostered such barbery in in their kingdom and allowing those people to thrive and continue to grow. They also had the fortune of being the Principality with the second most beautiful women in Westeros, the Reach holding their position at the top secure in his mind.

She was proud to be a lady of Starfall, he took note. Tirius didn't know if the Dayne's followed the same birth order of Dorne, or if they picked their sons. What he knew of the Daynes, they were closer to the Old Way than the Dornish. Even their mother was of the Reach. Perhaps it aided in the beauty of the woman who presented her hand with a confidence that woke up something in the Hand of the King.

Chivalry, it's true nature, was a Reachly idea. He took her hand in his own and kissed the back carefully, not allowing his lips to linger of his touch. Still, his gaze stayed on her. "My lady of Starfall."

"Is that so?" Yes, his countrymen went to Dorne and lost themselves in silks and sweet smells. Tirius buried the temptations lust turning deeper to his Gods and papers. The Gods who failed him and the papers that continued to pile up around him. And as his wife left him and his world fell apart, Tirius descended. A darkness that was strangling the light. A side of him he tried to hide away.

"I've not seen you before. Are you new to joining your court?" As he looked at her, he understood why her brother would have her hidden in a tower. There were many snakes in the rose bush.

★

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?"