★

Spaceballs (1987) dir. Mel Brooks

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

SABRINA CARPENTER Espresso (Behind the Scenes)

★

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?"

★

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?"

★

ruqaiyah dayne was never one to shy away from attention, but tirius rowan intrigued her more than most. he was nothing like the men of dorne, not quick to flatter or make overt gestures. instead, he watched her with a quiet intensity, as if trying to decipher her. she hadn’t expected him to be so... measured. most would be fawning, eager to please her. but not him. no, he had a different kind of arrogance, a controlled one, and that made him more interesting than the others.

she barely registered the words he spoke about wives and homes; they were empty, almost an afterthought. what struck her was the unspoken challenge beneath them. he thought he knew her kind, the dornish women who entangled men in their webs, yet she wasn’t quite so simple. men forget many things, he had said. perhaps that was true. but she wasn’t one to be forgotten easily. she didn’t have to remind him of that.

as he pulled the chair out for her, she didn’t wait for him to settle into his own place before she took the seat. his gesture was expected, and she had no interest in playing along with his courtesies. the chair was hers now, as everything was.

you wish to know my name, she thought, watching him with an impassive expression. she could tell him. give him the satisfaction. but names were so fleeting. even her own felt like it would slip from his mind before the evening was over. the weight of it would linger only for as long as it took for him to recall it when they next met. "the lady ruqaiyah dayne of starfall," she said at last, her voice assertive. it felt like nothing to her. her name had been spoken a thousand times before, yet here, now, it had a weight to it. she could see him digesting it, mentally cataloguing it alongside the others he’d forgotten so easily.

she extended her hand for him to kiss.

she didn’t care. she didn’t need him to remember her name. what was more interesting was how he looked at her, the way his gaze lingered just long enough to make her skin prickle with the subtle power of it. but there was something else too, something buried beneath his composure. a desire? or simply curiosity? she leaned forward ever so slightly, just enough for him to notice the curve of her neck, the slow, deliberate way she held his gaze.

"most you reachmen forgot your wives the moment you entered dorne."

Tirius didn't dawn a mask when he came here. He didn't want to take part in these games. No. He came down to the day because he wanted to speak with his very pregnant sister. And he was excited to see her doing so well in such a place. He knew the West was very different from the Reach. While she mentioned needing to speak to him, she assured him it didn't involve her feeling in danger and that mattered. He knew what happened to wives who displeased their husbands. He knew women lost their heads quite easily in the West.

The woman across from them caught his attention as he sat up in his chair and picked up the cup. His sister kissed his cheek and bid him farewell, her giant husband trailing behind her dutifully and perhaps drunkenly. He looked over his cup at the woman as she approached him.

Dornish. "I am." He found her to be quite pretty and he wondered to which she belonged and who unmasked her, if it meant she was claimed by another that would seek to pluck out his eyes for their offense. Tirius sat the cup down and almost smiled in amusement. Perhaps she too found herself as drunk as those around them.

"Men forget many things, their homes and wives are often not on the list." At least, many men did not forget their wives and those who forgot their home were the sort who turned traitor and exiled themselves. Exile was much easier than dealing with the Marshall of the Northmarch taking their head.

"May I ask for you name, my lady? I always wish to know who speaks to me of ships and my men." They were Lucrezia's men but she was not here to correct him, so why not entertain the beautiful woman. "There's a chair over here." He held her gaze and pulled the chair out beside him.

★

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."

★

"arrogant? no, it is delusional. she is a mad woman." she took another puff of her smoke, knowing she would need to bask herself in the strongest of scents for family dinner later. baashir was already on edge having seen an apparent imaginary orange glow coming from her balcony window. "i'd have slammed the gates shut in her face and ensure dust got into her eyes." there was a slight scoff that came from her lips, not aimed at safeerah, but rather at the idea that devani would get help from her.

"especially in the aftermath of what her disgusting brother done." no, even if she had come to starfall first, she would have been left to stand in the dust - ruqaiyah was sure of it. not once did the narcissistic grace of the evening consider that devani would know such a thing, and that could have been a reason why she ventured to hellholt. "you know, she speaks of her brother, we all speak of aditya toland, but i don't think they are that different. house of jesters. if ghost hill goes to her, don't trust her." her words were with good intention, and yet, they were detached from the reality of what safeerah would need to do to secure safety for the tor.

there was a peculiar possessiveness ruqaiyah felt for safeerah jordayne; the same way a toddler refused to share her toys, ruqaiyah also detested the idea of anyone else being as close to safeerah as she was. not once had she considered this was a toxic mindset to adopt, instead she seemed to glorify it in her own mind, as though this made her even better of a friend. any issue she held was their issue, and she would have no issue in dealing with it in ways that saf herself would not.

"auntie doesn't deserve this, neither of you do. why is it always the good people that suffer?" she puffed out smoke again, careful to do it away from the direction of safeerah as she knew she did not like it; they were different, but she knew there were certain things she would not do to upset her friend. her sister. the tor deserved security, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought of the scene of rashid jordayne's funeral. the pyre, and the scattering of his ashes within the water. the memory was enough to cause her to feel a sense of pain, wallowing up in the back of her throat.

"why even bother going for trial? just get baashir to cut him down, or maybe he can hold him down whilst you do it." the second part of her suggestion was merely a joke, and yet, a part of her caught lady jordayne's gaze - as though she wondered whether she had it in her. she then watched as safeerah took her hand and held her gaze, always comforting, always grounding. she was ruqaiyah dayne. she was ruqaiyah dayne. she could do it, and so, she squeezed saf's hand. "i'll get halima to make sure other women stay away from him, at least until we get married. see, us ladies have our battle tactics too."

"once you've gotten your revenge justice, i'll help you find a good husband." the blend of revenge and justice was intentional, and for a reason; she was sure it was both. it had to be both?

safeerah could not judge her cousin for her reaction to seeing devani toland again. she knew there was true pain hidden behind the venom that had dripped from her lips. “i suppose it was quite funny when you called her devina.” she was in no mood to defend devani. she knew what the woman had done to ruqaiyah, what her brother had done to her own sister. “it is arrogant of her to think she can just return and rejoin society as no time has passed.” the tolands had heads bigger than they had any right to. saf never liked that trait in others. she did see it in ru from time to time, but she also knew there were other sides to her friend. saf saw the quick emotion pass on her face as she mentioned dante. “what would you have done if she had gone to you first? if she had showed up outside your door?” there was a fine line between prying and supporting. she knew ruqaiyah would simply wave her off if she did not wish to answer.

she felt a shiver run down her spine as the trial was mentioned. it was something she sometimes dreamed about at night, half a dream and half a nightmare. she did not answer if she wished for bash to be the one to fight if it ended in a trial by combat. she knew that bash could do it, that he would do it, but it weighed on her to ask. “you ask questions i do not yet know the answer to.” it was a conflict that raged inside her. between ideals and feelings. safeerah wanted to show there was another way, but she also knew if bash handed her the sword then she would run it through the heart of lord toland. “if lord toland dies, you know what that will mean for devani. she has a claim to ghost hill.” safeerah knew if there was no trial that she would have to move against ghost hill ― or maybe she had to do it anyway. there would be no peace inside her otherwise. for a woman who spoke of peace, she could not bear the thought of the tolands getting away with their crimes.

“the prince has a lot on his mind, i would not blame him for feeling overwhelmed with it all.” safeerah could sense the doubt emitting from her cousin, so she leaned forward and took one of her hands. “listen to me.” dark eyes clashed with violet. “you are ruqaiyah dayne, you are beautiful and powerful, and if you want ravi as husband, you will have him.” saf would always be first in line to support her even if their ambitions were wildly different. “he will not say no to you.” she let go of her hand and leaned slightly back again. “trust me, i have tried and i know it's close to impossible.” a soft laugh escaped her then.

safeerah smiled as she observed her friend. she always enjoyed these moments where calm would fall over them, and they could simply talk without thinking twice of what to say. her smile faltered slightly at the question. “mother is coping.” it was the truth. but it was not easy for any of them. she knew her mother longed for rashid as much as she did, and the surrounding chaos only made the longing deeper. he had been their rock and now she had to find a way to become the same, not only for herself and her family, but for all of the tor. “we are not alone, qaiyah, we have our people and each other ― and most of dorne, it seems.” saf knew that her cousin saw the world differently. in some ways, they were as different as night and day, but yet their friendship persisted despite all the reasons it should not. there were none closer to her than ruqaiyah. none where there was no filter between what she thought and what she said.

★

it felt as though there were words that were being uttered, and yet, her thoughts were entirely distracted by the question at the very back of her mind; what were they doing? did he intend to go through with it still? the light chuckle that slipped from his lips caused her amethyst orbs to glance up at his figure, using her hand to shield her from the glare of the sun's rays - perhaps the sun of dorne was always supposed to be ravi martell, rather than his older brother.

"and does their opinion change often?" she asked him, her hands remaining on either side of her lilac adornment; gossip was gossip, and despite it all, ruqaiyah dayne had not experienced the ways the wind of gossip changed from day to day within the beating heart of sunspear.

"the watchers pamphlet gets delivered to starfall too…something the first minister does not know." she added, a slightly amused expression crossing her features; he knew her brother, knew how he detested such nonsense. "do people read them often in sunspear?" how quickly to the winds change, was the question she was truly asking. how different would things have been if it had been him who was the oldest, the firstborn? a small part of herself found herself feeling somewhat jaded, knowing she had missed the opportunity for her line to be the direct rulers of dorne; no, that privilege went to the girl in the basket instead.

if this match went through, she would be second best; still, as she had always been to the eyes of everyone. his comment regarding not disappointing her mother caused a slight look to cross her features, one of familiarity as he looked at her; such a small comment, though she knew it had meaning. one simply did not disappoint lady dayne. "it depends on the people, i suppose. i have grown able to be alone in my own head, even in a room of people…a skill, when surrounded by vultures."

"…how is your mother?" ruqaiyah asked, feeling herself stand on something pointed within the ocean. she did not grimace, though moved her foot from it, feeling an ache quickly begin to develop. her mother was waiting to be invited to a personal audience with the matriarch of house martell.

a chuckle escaped him and he gave a slight shrug at her answer. ravi did not mean to insinuate he was ashamed of people seeing the two of them together, in fact it were almost quite the opposite. the thought strangely made him nervous, but not in a way that he did not want to commit himself to the woman before him, rather he hadn't a chance to really consider just how near that time was coming. despite being betrothed to her for many years, there had always been a separation of lives, other matters that they attended to, and now they were needing to face what was to come for them, together.

ravi couldn't help but wonder her thoughts on the matter. he knew house dayne's more traditional stances seeped within her veins, and she would follow through with the duty bestowed upon her. perhaps that alone was enough for a cordial marriage, as ravi thought himself to be a reasonable person to get along with. however, he hoped she would not feel as if the cards had been dealt, and there could be no true connection, eventually. despite his more reserved, private nature, he was a bit of a sentimental creature.

head tilted to the side and a grin came over his features, her words held a hint of elicit matters within them, but he could not gauge if that is what she actually intended to say. "good, certainly the opinion of the court is an important one." he remarked, and he were being entirely truthful, for perhaps in some way, ravi felt as if he was truly being the light, the sun that he was always spoken to be, having been eclipsed by his elder brother for so long. thoughts raced through his mind on just how people perceived him, and he wondered if ruqaiyah had felt the same.

"well, we cannot disappoint your mother. i'll ensure the information is given to her swiftly." he placed his hands behind his back, looking down at the glimmering water that rose to their knees, almost feeling the energy of the ocean itself surge through him. despite the little bit of conversation they were having, ravi found himself glad to have a moment alone with ru. it gave them a small chance to attempt to be themselves before the other. "do you often find yourself away from the masses?" he questioned, perhaps wanting to understand her feeling on the large gathering happening within the halls of sunspear before them. "or rather, is solitude something you prefer at times?"

★

"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?"