★

"oh god, who is disturbing ru at early early time of the morning?"

♛ → 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.

who: @tiriusrowan when and where: the main square of lannisport, in the middle of celebrations for lan's day, ruqaiyah dayne has long since been unmasked by safeerah jordayne - irritated the fun is over so quickly, she chooses to sulk on a table alone.

there continued to be the sounds of some stringed instrument, perhaps a violin as she watched crowds of golden haired people slip in and out of various lanes from the main square. in the distance remained the great sept of lannisport, a sept with more gold in it - a part of her wanted to ask whether that gold would be dug back out when the lannisters ran out of gold in their caves, and yet she kept her mouth shut. her brother was somewhere with his mistress, and she refused to be in the company of such tension - even though she was no doubt the one who created such feelings of ire.

in a shocking act of betrayal, it had been safeerah that was the culprit responsible for unmasking her, and she now decided she was quite done with this game. a leg folded over her knee as her dusty pink chiffon skirts fell to the floor, she kept her hand on her jaw as she watched people go in and out of eye line, waiting for someone to unmask safeerah so they could return home. she also ignored the feeling of her brother's distant gaze upon her, no doubt checking she was in the same spot every now and then; a servant sent by him passed by, and she managed to get hold of their attention.

"wine, and tell him i will be staying here." she spoke, stubborn and spoiled to her very core. she would not sit alongside the paramour he had brought into their home.

and then her gaze fell upon a serious looking individual, who appeared equally as unamused; though he seemed to be in conversation with a page, and a woman she had seen before. was this woman not somehow related to the lannisters? was she the one that had married the prince of fair isle? she could have done that. she was far prettier than this woman. she looked away at the brief, unintentional eye contact, taking another sip of the wine. she rose to leave, perhaps because she knew he was old way.

she did not need to speak to such people. only, the woman beside him seemed to leave at the very same time. she looked carefully at his face once again, remembering what her brother had said. "are you not the hand of king cedric tyrell?" ruqaiyah asked, her tone forward; not rude, but false. socialising for a socialite, before leaving. "with the amount you reachmen are in our seas, it looks as though your men have all forgotten the homes and wives that await them, my lord."

★

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."

★

life was doing that thing it always done in the aftermath of a tense conversation or situation: replaying the words uttered over and over again in the mind of the grace of the evening, though in a striking contrast to the majority of humans with a conscience, there did not come waves of regret or even embarrassment for how the situation had unfolded. if anything, the only feels of ire and irritation were aimed at herself, for not escalating matters even further: she was unable to see how that would have done no favours, too wrapped up in her own scars, her own feeling of betrayal.

and so, ruqaiyah had no issue with acting as though devani was not in the room - and those who knew her, knew even that suggested something was there.

for in truth, it was unlikely the lady of starfall would have left anyone who had vexed her to their own devices. it was unlikely she would not have them looking behind their shoulder, or finding a way to further shame them - her cruel streak had apparently weaned, or perhaps it had morphed into a different sort of cruelty. the type where one pretends as though she never existed at all; as though she was not, and never had been, anything special.

it were not as though ruqaiyah did not know how to do such a thing. a pale pink, almost white mask remained upon her features; until it didn't.

there was the feeling of a hand quickly moving to rest on her hip, and ru's brows furrowed, lilac orbs darting downward - and her mask was gone. she had heard of such rumour, and turned to confront the thief - only to find herself looking within the jovial eyes of devani toland, who continued acting as though nothing had happened. it was something ruqaiyah took as a personal insult, a targeted attack on her - how could she do this?

they were in public, in the middle of the day; and as much as ruqaiyah wished to grab her by the hair and shake her, push her into a nearby fountain, she could not.

"some of us don't need gold from others." instead, she shot her a dirty look, her gaze glancing up and down the woman - acting as though the woman had entirely missed the point. her fingers snapped together, a dayne pageboy scurrying toward her; she went into the small pouch of money, and handed it roughly to devani into her hands, as though she were giving money to a begger. "and if you must know, somebody else was supposed to unmask me. thank you for ruining that. " a lie. pettiness.

closed starter for @ruqaiyahdayne setting: lann's day

it was a stupid, and reckless decision. and yet, stupid and reckless was what devani did best.

she had not expected ruqaiyah dayne to welcome her home with open arms. had she done so, perhaps devani would have been more wary, expected some sort of underhanded trick from the lady of starfall. no, ruqaiyah's rage was to be expected, the depths to which she would sink to get the upper hand? devani had quite forgotten just how cruel she could be, when she had a mind to be.

and yet. ruqaiyah had long been the one thing she could never quite let go of, no matter how many years and miles she tried to put between the two of them. devani did not like that. she had never belonged to anybody but herself, but when it came to ruqaiyah, that confidence was shaken a little. she knew she should leave it alone, stop picking at the raw wound that existed between them, but she could not when she was in essos, every few months an anonymous gift with no note attached finding it's way to dornish shores, to ruqaiyah's hands. she must have suspected who sent them.

and she could not leave it alone now. the tension of their last meeting gripped at her. perhaps it was because she was already so weighed down, by the boy who lay in the sewers of king's landing, by what was left of dante uller upon the floors of sunspear, by the selhorys sell sword who had succumbed to a terrible illness and the little boy who now needed to be, somehow, smuggled into dorne, but she could not let it go.

she approached from behind, one hand resting upon ruqaiyah's hip to keep her still, the other lifting the mask from her face. she had known it was ruqaiyah before she had even had to look too closely, the hue of her clothing giving her away, if not anything else. she did not wish to think about the anything else.

she released her grip, stepping backwards with her prize clutched in her hands, waggling it a little as ruqaiyah turned so that she could see what she had done. "i win," she let out a laugh, turning the mask over in her hands. "you ought to be more vigilant, ru. you'd never have won the day like that, anyway."

mask shifted to her left hand, devani held out her right, in the expectation that ruqaiyah would pay her the winnings she was owed. "come on, then. i believe you owe me a little coin now." there was a teasing lilt to her voice. though their last meeting was still fresh on her mind, devani was acting as though nothing had ever happened. as though she was sixteen again. if she were, would she have made different choices, knowing all she did now?

in her heart, she knew the answer was a resounding no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 let out a breath that came out more like a laugh—sharp, breathless, incredulous. "you weren’t made for one place?” her voice turned cold and lilting, as if she were entertaining a joke no one else was in on. “you weren’t made for it, so we were born to sit and wait for you to flutter off and find your next whim?"” her chest rose and fell rapidly now, but her posture was still perfect, held together by the sheer force of her ego and the fact she knew she looked good. she had lost inches on her waist, as seen by her newest dress; devani would eat her words.

“that's not FAIR, you make it sound like i had you CHAINED!” she continued, tone curdling into something mock-sweet as her voice continued to rise - and despite the fact she were furious, she also loved the fact she had devani here in this moment. arguing with her, giving her full attention.

“you were in my house, you wore my clothes, you sat on my bed. you let me braid your hair while you told me—promised me—that i was the one person who understood you. and you’re telling me now, that you left because you were sixteen and had stuff on your mind?” she took a step back, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. her nails dug into her own arms, but she didn’t care. she wanted to feel it. wanted to ground herself in anything other than the ache that was pulling at her ribs. there was something in her voice now that even she could not quite contain. a tremble, brittle and buzzing with humiliation.

"you don’t get to call me dramatic when you made me feel like i was mad. like i had imagined the whole thing. you said you’d never leave me. you said—” she bit the words back like they were acid. “you said i was the only one who saw you.” her voice cracked, just once, and she swallowed hard, eyes narrowed in fury at her own weakness.

“and don’t you dare stand there and call me a child when you ran off like some storm-chaser desperate to be anywhere but with me.” her mouth twisted, lips gleaming like lacquered anger. “you wanted me, devani. you chose me. you told me things—things you didn’t have to say. and then what? you got bored? you spotted a guardsman and thought, oh, let me just vanish like i was never here?” she tilted her head, eyes glinting, voice rising suddenly. “I SAW YOU. THAT IS WHY YOU LEFT. BECAUSE OF DANTE ULLER AND THAT GUARD.”

devani's head was shaking. she was never a woman prone to anger. there was much that could be said to her, and she would simply laugh it off, make a joke of it, adopt it as part of her persona, if she found enough flattery in the unflattering. getting her to this point, where impatience took over, where irritation flickered in the dark hue of her eyes, took a particular skill that only ruqaiyah had ever seemed to have mastered. she wielded words as her brother did his sword, giving no space in the conversation for devani's words to settle, and so devani did not either. she would not stop to give ruqaiyah's words any consideration, would not do anything beyond dig her heels in, and refuse to see anything beyond her own point.

ruqaiyah demanded submission, and devani would not give it to her.

there was no more deflection, no more poking and twisting. instead, devani made a sound in the back of her throat, dismissive and derisive. "would you listen to yourself, ruqaiyah," she snapped, her exasperation bleeding into her tone. "you think i dream of a life like yours? get real." it was her own arrogance showing now, the knowledge that the life ruqaiyah claimed to want could have been hers, many times. if not in dorne, in essos, where lovers had come and gone so often she had lost track. she could have had it, only to devani, it was not an honour, but a shackle around her ankles.

and she saw it clearly, now ; that ruqaiyah would have chained her, too, if she had chosen to stay. it would have suffocated her, would have made her chafe against the commitment she had made to her as much as it had rubbed her raw when she had been married. in that moment, she had never been more certain of her choices. "yes, i do expect you to accept it," she said, a hand going to her forehead in her frustration. "perhaps that is too much to ask, though, since that would involve you coming to terms with the fact that people have more going on in their lives than you, ruqaiyah, and that is something you will never do. it's like talking to a child."

ruqaiyah closed the gap between them, the two of them practically nose to nose, and devani's hands dropped to her side. there was no humour in her expression, the laughing mockery absent from her eyes. "i left," she confirmed. "because we were sixteen years old, ru. and even then, it was obvious..." she trailed off, what exactly was obvious never making it passed her lips. she had meant what she said, at the time, but she had always been flightly, the unloved child of house toland, unable to ever commit to any bond she had ever made. "i wasn't made for any one place." was all she offered by way of explanation. any one place, any one person. she had always grown restless in the end.

she could have apologised. it would not be the first time she said something she didn't mean, driven by self-preservation. there was no pride in devani toland, and she did not mind making herself look the fool. it would be easy to beg forgiveness, but she wouldn't, because for ruqaiyah dayne, it would never be enough. "keep wishing," she said, simply. "the worst is long behind me."

SABRINA CARPENTER Espresso (Behind the Scenes)