Devani 001 - Blog Posts

★

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."

★

she only theatrically shrugged.

bluntness was a cursed habit of house dayne; all members seemingly having short tongues, their affinity to wrapping it in lace, flowers and silver was what differed from individual to individual - the very opposite of ambiguity, of double meanings, and looking too close into something. it would be a lie to say ruqaiyah dayne was not one to make ambiguous comments in passing with the sole intention of making another feel nervous or insecure about themselves; it was in her early girlhood she realised ambiguity could be a weapon.

"did you ever try to reach out to your childhood friend?" ruqaiyah asked, amethyst hues flickering away from a vivid dark gaze toward the food that was now cold on the plate before her. "perhaps he did not adjust well to your vanishing act."

one she felt now, sitting on the opposite of this damned table, and she found herself doing mental gymnastics attempting to work out what it was devani was truly saying. how she hated it, when she was on the receiving end. hypocritical to her very core; her hand remained beneath her chin as she merely looked upon the woman opposite her with a torn look. one of scathing judgement, as though she were vermin beneath her shoe; and the other side being one rooted in fractured insecurity.

"then again, why would you? that would require you to be able to admit when you've done wrong, and both of us do not have the time to unwind the length of that scroll."

dying for answers of questions she had always buried deep within her for years, though was never able to ask them - for she never had an address of where to write. the letters never came with any confirmation of identity, never came with any inclination of where she could write anything back: even across the narrow sea, devani toland had some control over her ability to open her mouth and say anything.

her gaze narrowed when she mentioned baashir; baashir did not get angry. he was the perfect knight, and he was doing his duty. so he beat a man to a pulp, who gave a shit when the man was a traitor? his life meant nothing anyway. "well, some of us have brothers who actually protect their families. you know baashir, devani - considering you stayed some time with us." to be away from whatever hell hole ghost hill was.

how it had taken time for ruqaiyah to be willing to open her mouth and speak on the truth of who she was: how she was ready to tell devani she would sit both of her parents down and speak the truth to them - that she did not wish to marry, that she did wish to set foot in a sept she did not believe in. that devani toland would not be a secret. and with a gust of wind over sails, that came to a sudden, screeching end. instantly, the rose hue faded to black and white, and the bubble burst: it had all been in her own head.

a foolish, naive girl believing none other compared, that she stood alone. "are you intending on staying, lady toland?"

she wasn't sure why she hadn't anticipated this, why it had taken her so by surprised when the subject of dante was broached. she had been lucky, thus far, that nobody else had approached her so pointedly. conversations about dante had been few and far between, usually accompanied by offers of condolences from them, and assurances from devani that she had no idea what her friend had been up to. that wasn't a lie. dante had kept her in the dark - and she was eternally grateful that he had.

but if devani had forgotten the depths to which ruqaiyah could stoop, she had forgotten how resilient devani could be. was she not the girl who had left dorne with nothing, who had flitted from place to place, building a new life for herself each time? the silence was a sign of her displeasure, but she would not remain quiet.

"i do not know what curse gripped dante uller's heart in my absence," the words were more for the benefit of anybody still listening to the conversation than ruqaiyah, a simple statement that washed her hands of any guilt, and addressed the lady of starfall's words without ambiguity, without shame. devani toland would not be cowed.

"but i mourn the friend i've known since my childhood." and there, she moved back into ambiguity, because those words could apply to dante uller - but they could just as easily be affixed to ruqaiyah dayne, because devani had mourned her, and thought of her, and wanted her. even when she hated her.

"yes, i hear your lord brother's fury was a sight to behold. tell me, does he often lose control of himself like that?" it was a dangerous hand to play, and yet, devani chose to throw that card on the table regardless, a reminder that the daynes of starfall were not as perfect, as infallible, as ruqaiyah was painting them to be. "let us all be thankful that we have our first minister to dispense justice upon the wicked, hmm?" and there, she retreated back into what was safe, a place where nobody could twist her words and paint them as a slight on baashir dayne. they were blessed to have him, a shining star of the dornish court.

devani hated this game.

"i suppose we do," devani's eyes burned as they met ruqaiyah's once more. try again. her lips twisted into a mirthless smirk. "there is nothing sadder than someone who holds on to hate for things they can't control, is there?"

★

she knew not what test it was that dictated her choices; her words, actions and thoughts alike that felt as though she needed to live up to something the other sat across from her would not understand or be able to fathom. the concept of living according to an established set of rules, rules she decided did not apply when conversing with others that were not the same as her.

"you admire people who try hard to be different, yes." rules she would set ablaze and burn her own skin to discard of, just to feel the sensation of throwing it to the wind, to the tornado, to the earthquakes.

"some people are just above others." there was a cold glint that came over sparkling orbs at the sound of the laughter that slipped from the woman opposite her. there were many things that caused ruqaiyah dayne to become unpolished: the sparkle to cease, and the roughness around her edges becoming sharp - to feel as though her pride had been wounded was a fatal mistake. "some even have the lowest of low above them."

and in this moment, as she found herself doing the opposite of disassociating, she only fixated on the sound of the laughter; and she wondered if that very same laughter had rung atop the deck of whatever vessel, in whatever bedchamber, at the mere prospect of the words that had been whispered between one another. she felt herself burn even more now, a silent simmer; of shame, and of longing.

there was a tut that came from her when the wine spilled onto the table cloth from lady toland's goblet.

"thankfully, my lord brother discarded of such a stain within our sphere." another instance of house dayne proving themselves to be the most worthy of houses in dorne. the most valiant, and the most dedicated - to themselves, and to duty. she saw a flicker of pain cross over dark features, and she felt a thrill to know she was able to do achieve such an effect. it meant ruqaiyah was not the same woman who fell into the web of such a spider.

it meant she too was poison - why did she want to be poison? and then she felt her stomach twist in a warped irritation. even after all of these years, it was him that could get her to stop. to get something human to cross her features, rather than the colour red.

"and now we move on." she spoke, her words illicit with a double meaning as she reached forward to take another goblet of wine from the centre of the table.

there was an attempt at an insult, and it took everything in devani not to laugh out loud at it. perhaps ruqaiyah had forgotten, in their years parted, that devani cared little for being like everyone else. it was the precise reason she had departed in the first place, so that she could do as she pleased, wear as she pleased, live in exactly the way she wanted to and enjoy every moment of it. she knew little of lady dayne's life since she had left it. had she ever had a moment like that? ever filled her days with something not because she had a duty to it, but purely because she wanted to? devani didn't know.

"all the more reason not to wear dornish fabrics, then," devani waved a hand dismissively. "i've always admired people who take it upon themselves to make their own mind up about these things, rather than paying attention to what everyone else is doing." once she had crossed the rhoyne for the first time, it had hit her how little the life she had left behind mattered. dorne was a small corner of a wider world - one ruqaiyah had never seen. devani could almost pity that.

she couldn't help it this time: when ruqaiyah called her by a name that wasn't hers, devani laughed, and it was genuine, because it was utterly ridiculous. call it arrogance, but she did not believe that ruqaiyah had forgotten her. the more she tried to make it seem as though it was so, the more it felt like a farce. "i don't agree," she raised her shoulders in a shrug."i think people like to believe they have changed. risen above," she rolled her eyes. "but the core of who you are stays the same. there's no changing that."

the reaction from devani at the hint of what had happened to dante uller was not instant. rather, it dawned upon her face slowly, the light in her dimming as her smirk fell, her eyes widened, and she lapsed into silence. she looked like she might be sick. ruqaiyah had aimed for her jugular, and the knife had slid under her skin like butter. devani set her cup down upon the table, so hard that the wine spilled over the edge and stained the cloth that covered it, and she finally tore her gaze away.

in the back of her head there was a phantom cry of pain, and she did not know if it belonged to dante uller, or the boy who had been buried under the filth of king's landing.

it hit her then how calculated the move had been. ruqaiyah had commanded the attention of the others that sat with, made sure all had heard the comment and had their eyes on devani as she reacted. the silence echoed loudly. she had no words for ruqaiyah dayne in that moment. for the first time in almost as long as she could remember, devani was rendered utterly speechless.

★

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?"

★

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.

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.

the dancer of salt shore had spun about the room, chatting with other guests of the evening and dancing to practically every tune that had been played this evening. she was making her way back across the room when a familiar voice beckoned her to sit with them. turning to see devani toland, a grin crept upon her face. in truth, it mattered not where most nobles came from, whatever squabbles were between them were not necessarily under her radar. figure slid into the chair across from the woman and plucked a golden goblet from a passing tray to partake in drinking dornish red. from the flush of the woman's cheeks, she had already indulged in plenty that evening.

zahra did not enjoy being within the walls of the red keep, almost suffocating in which it was flooded with tresses of silver any which way one would look. she would not really pretend to be entirely alright, either. the death of the qamar of the tor had wounded her more than she allowed herself to process at this point. this night in particular felt heavier, though perhaps it were the full moon that shone brightly in the night sky. regardless, believed she simply needed to get through this visit, and when they were back in dorne she would float around aimlessly, for a while.

"something good?" she snorted, a hearty laughter escaping her, almost to the point of hysterics. "well, if you can avoid the valyrians," zahra leaned in, attempting to be quieter in those words, but failing entirely. "some of these nobles are actually alright." she shrugged, taking a long sip of her goblet now. "i even played a game of cards with a couple of lords, pompous as they were."

@dancingshores

"come and sit with me." there was an air of finality to devani's voice as she beckoned the other woman over. it wasn't her way to watch the room, to weigh up her options before engaging in conversation - once her attention was caught, devi acted upon it. "have a drink. nothing dampens the spirits more than drinking alone, no?" she gestured to a jug of dornish red she had commandeered.

she missed essos. dorne had not been her home for so long that she hardly even considered herself dornish anymore. she was a child of the sun and the sea, at home wherever she found herself. her blood ran hot, her passions hotter, and she followed every whim as it rose within her. those whims were telling her to flee once more, to go back to the life she had when she abandoned her homeland the first time.

and yet, here she remained.

she allowed a brief moment to settle, to drink, before launching back into conversation. "i've been away from dorne for too long. if i'd have known things were this bad, i'd have stayed longer." she laughed, the sound edged in something a little bitter. "tell me something good. i'm not sure my little heart can bear much more doom and gloom."