C: Ryon - Blog Posts

★

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.”

★

"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."

★

"the wyl of wyl, with all his mirth and misplaced confidence, continues to be a source of unexpected amusement at his own expense. how exciting." ruqaiyah uttered, her tone laced with a scathing form of sarcasm as she flickered her lilac gaze up and down his frame, as though she wanted him to know she were inspecting every part of him.

and then her expression changed, to one where she seemed to have taken great and obvious offense. "prove? what do i have to prove to the likes of you?" she demanded, her tone rising slightly; almost as though she were in shock and disbelief at such a statement. and perhaps she seemed as though she were swirling her emotions because she wanted him to momentarily wonder if someone would hear him irritating her. upsetting her. "i am, and will be more of, your better. you come into my home and tell me i need to prove myself to be your princess?"

there was false distress in her voice now, her hand resting upon her silverish pink fitted blouse, looking around. as though she were needing someone else to step in.

some people simply did not know how to get what they wanted, or what they needed; they needed an example to set the tone for them. to pave the way, to give some sense of confidence - and she would do just that. "your persistence is lacking. when i sit beside my martell husband in sunspear, you will know. and you will learn how to obtain what one truly wants, from my own example. it would be some benefit to you."

her eyes glinted with a mixture of disdain and amusement. "it is quite the spectacle to witness such ungrounded confidence. after all, being a mere bannerman of armaan yronwood must come with its own unique set of delusions." with this, she were not entirely certain of the knowledge she seemed to be sprouting - but there was no part of her which gave that away. confident face, confident voice - overconfident.

"so what do you do as a bannerman? fetch his chai? i wouldn't know, you see."

Ryon looked at her, a brow raising, "why would their be a celebration for you?" He continued to speak in their shared tongue, amused at her arrogance. Clearly, it was a family trait. They thought more of themselves then they should and with their student and unsurprising rise, to anyone with eyes, their arrogance would only grow.

And then, then she said she would be their princess and that made him laugh. And he made sure he laughed loudly, his bright smile seemingly even bright as he found himself overly amused. Would the Martell Prince truly marry the Dayne sister? Were the Dayne's so politically shrewd while being social inept?

"I've nothing to prove, lady Dayne. Not nearly as much as you who wishes to be a Princess one day." His words were mocking but he said it with the same smile. Wyl's were not known for their friendly disposition, it was what made Ryon stand out againster the reputation of his house, one did not know where his mind was or where it was going. Even when soaked in blood there was the hint of glee in his dark eyes. after all, it was all a great game.

Much liked the sister of House Dayne, Ryon wielded his words and tongue as weapons of their own. When it was time for a Wyl to sheath their blade it was time to fall back on the other tools a man must keep sharp.

"How many more years shall we wait for a great ball for the future princess?"

★

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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