★

who: @scfeerah when and where: following the arrival of lady dayne and lady jordayne to the court of sunspear, most notably, following the tense interaction between ruqaiyah and devani. what: a good old bitch fest.

it did not take long for the ladies of house dayne and house jordayne to find their skirts wafting through the bustling great domed hall of sunspear, the sound of their anklets being drowned out by the sound of the tabla and the laughter, though there was a silent simmer that lingered between them. the epitome of ancient kinship flowering into something of far more substance, the ladies had always remained inseparable, despite the differences in their nature, temperament and ideology.

"gods, she is going to ruin this for me, isn't she?" ruqaiyah asked, her voice low, but as though she were ready to explode into what could only be seen as a tantrum. "she'll see to it to somehow break the betrothal. or she'll try to have me embarrass myself." the marriage that was supposed to go through between herself and the prince of sunspear.

still, there was none other that would be able to read the mind of the grace of the evening without even having to utter a word. so many fleeting looks, slightly raised brows, and expressions that said all words could not say. and gods knew, if there was a sound that matched this nights situation, it would be the sound of blaring trumpets and shattering glass in the background of knowing looks.

"she was even speaking to the prince." she commented, and there was jealousy laced in her voice. gods knew for what, apart from the idea of devani taking the life that was meant for ruqaiyah. "are they friends? do you know? i had no clue." safeerah constantly trying to get ruqaiyah to stop engaging in the conversation, even if it were to stoop to low levels of malice and utter spite. "why can't she just crawl back to whatever hole she came out of it, and take dante uller's crumbs with her?"

if the situation were less personal for ruqaiyah, she would have found herself giggling at the look which crossed the expression of lady jordayne; one of quiet surprise, as though she did not want to make any sudden movements in the tense interaction. the discussion happened after they retreated to the grand ornate chambers given to the lady of house dayne, and the smoke had been lit using the candles already ignited: she did not wish to fill her sister's room with the smell of smoke, so ruqaiyah leaned out of a window, blowing it out into the night sky before her.

"i should have ignored her. i know you were trying to tell me to ignore her."

★

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?"

High School Musical 2 (2007)

@opheliafowler / @dancingshores

MEAN GIRLS (2004) dir. Mark Waters

★

"no it was not." the grace of the evening continued, no doubt rooted in immature, spoiled stubbornness the way she always was in refusing to acknowledge that she perhaps had behaved in ways that were too low for her. the conversation had not been a waste of time, because even for a moment, she had seen devani toland's face wipe clean with a numbing look of pain and shock.

she had made devani toland speechless, in the worst of ways; and there had been something toxic and malicious briefly ignite in the back of ruqaiyah's own amethyst orbs. "i got the reaction i wanted...no, the reaction i deserved, regardless of the rest of it. did you see her face fall? i hope she never gets over it." she recalled, a cruel smile playing on her lips at the memory as she brought the smoke to her lips again, exhaling it back into the night air.

"but did you hear her? she went to him first. him. fucking dante uller." ruqaiyah commented, as though she could hardly believe herself; there was no denying the way her heart twisted, for it reflected upon her own facial features. as though it were not only days earlier she had been within her own chambers in starfall, promising she only had eyes for one person. she had told her not to say that - so why did she believe it?

"you're right. she has no power over me." she spoke, melodramatic as she straightened her back. she would not speak of it anymore. "none. it was nothing; we were young. and now i am me, and she is...well."

"no saf, you don't get it. he has been so busy. i haven't had the chance to speak to him properly, but he hasn't mentioned the betrothal. not properly. he found me on the beach the other day when i skipped the sept, but it felt weird. like we were walking on coals."

...and then she returned to the topic of devani and dante. not having power over her lasted all but a minute. "they must have obviously stayed in touch, maybe he was the one who persuaded her to return." ruqaiyah dayne's first heartbreak had been a silent one, until she had been able to see her cousin again. she had been enough. she had been embarrassed; the other side of some joke that must have been a private matter between them.

"do you want bash to kill lord toland? you know he'll do it - properly, i mean. trial by combat, so it's not breaking any rules. or are you planning on speaking to her...?"

her gaze looked upon the constellations in the sky; it was in these moments with her sister was she able to decompress, to be who she truly was - and how it was a force for bad as well as good. moving her dupatta from being wrapped around her to instead being laid across her lap, she closed her eyes for a moment, and took the time to try and re-centre herself. "how is auntie? i don't like the idea of you two being in the tor alone with all this going on." ruqaiyah loved lady afreen jordayne; the most beautiful woman in dorne.

safeerah knew a night would never be boring if she was with ruqaiyah. they had been friends all their lives and there were none she knew as well as lady dayne. maybe except for her own siblings. so the minute that a conversation had started between ruqaiyah and devani, she knew it was a disaster waiting to happen. she had been trying to discreetly tell her best friend to stop engaging by sending her signs, but she was also not surprised when it did not work ― nor was she particularly surprised by her reaction afterwards when they had the chance to speak frankly.

and ruqaiyah knew her as well. "of course i was. the conversation was a waste of your time and energy." the jordayne had thrown herself on the bed in the room and was lying on her stomach with her feet in the air. she held herself up by her elbows as she sent her friend a knowing look. "you give her far too much power, qaiyah, don't let her get under your skin." she knew it was easier said than done when it came to people you had a past with. saf just wished it did not have to be a toland that her best friend had been with in the past. "i do not know if they are friends, but i do know that no one will care much about the word of devani. she's been gone far too long and she's from a family of known liars. do you not remember her mother trying to fool us into believing devani had greyscale?" that was not the only lie they had told. lord toland was nothing but the scum of the earth and she would see that justice be done. "but if she starts something then we will handle it."

she noted the jealousy in ruqaiyah's voice but she could not tell what its source was exactly. she had a guess though. she took the safe route and decided to just reassure her cousin. "you have no reason to worry. we both know nothing will be allowed to get in the way of you marrying the prince." at the end of the day, safeerah knew that was what ruqaiyah wanted. whilst she had never understood her friend's ambition for the title of princess, she supported her anyway and would do what was in her power to see it done.

she watched as ruqaiyah blew out another cloud of smoke. "it must be strange to see her again after all this time." it was bait for ruqaiyah to take if she wished. safeerah knew better than to force anything out of the dayne if she did not wish to speak about it. "it has been so long that i had actually forgotten about her being friends with dante uller."

★

"too pretty for the likes of you. even a mask can't be fixing all that." and for a woman who believed herself to have all the grace of the stars that appeared in the evening, there was absolutely no hint of grace in monitoring the way in which ruqaiyah reached forward to grab hold of her mask again. her hands were like vipers, and snatched it back from the silver string, her face one of utter bitchy contempt as she watched the lady of house toland swing the mask around on one of her fingers.

she tugged it back from devani then, like a bratty spoiled child rather than the oldest daughter of the illustrious house dayne. "you seemed proud enough. not a hint of shame on you." it was the closest thing to a veiled reference to what it was ruqaiyah had witnessed so many years ago: how she had quietly gasped, and how it had struck and punctured an already wounded ego.

"now let go and go speak to whoever it is is willing to be your friend, before i send you into that fountain behind you." she all but hissed beneath her breath, stepping forward to close the distance between the pair. it appeared to outsiders as though they were standing closely together, both holding onto the pale pink mask. she was so sure people were watching, and the strap of her dress was all but pressing into her bare skin; it made her purse her lips, entirely unsatisfied.

she wished to push her over, like they were mere girls again. she instead continued to play tug of war over a mask of all things. "or maybe you were watching and waiting to unmask me. you always had the desperate urge to be the first." there was a double meaning there, kissing her teeth and rolling lilac orbs that no other woman in all of dorne held. "oh, get some sleep and stop thinking of me at night." and she finally managed to tug her mask back from devani, only for it to break.

she stomped beneath the skirts of her pale pink dress, throwing it down onto the ground in a huff. "why would you do that? do you know how much time i spent on the detailing? it's chikankari. and you BROKE IT."

her prize in her hand, devani poked her finger through the eyehole of the pale pink mask, swinging it around in careless circles. she was unphased by the venom in ruqaiyah's glare - if anything, it only made her own expression all the more smug. "pretty mask," she taunted. "different." her own mask was not quite so delicate, a gaudy display of colour and embellishment, and her grinning, mocking mouth revealed where it stopped upon the bridge of her nose.

"oh, i am not so proud. you know that." her voice was almost cheerful in tone. this time, she would not let ruqaiyah get the better of her. why was it she could not leave this woman alone, let her have the distance she so desperately craved from devani? but then, surely there had been enough distance between them already. she could not change the past, could not rewrite what had already been written. and yet, how easy it was to fall into old habits.

ruquiyah wished to act as though she did not exist, and that, to devani, was the worst insult of all. the ire, she could take, even the insults, but to be ignored? no matter where she had gone in the world, she had never been unnoticed. always a delicate balancing act, she liked to be seen, to push that which she wanted people to know to the forefront to conceal that which she didn't.

and what was it that she wanted ruqaiyah to know? everything, and yet, nothing at all.

the gold collected, she held it up for a moment, nodding at ruqaiyah over it, as though to say thanks, to an onlooker, though she knew ruqaiyah enough to know that she would see it as a taunt. perhaps it was. there was a satisfaction in knowing her actions still had some power. if she could not coax words of affection from her again, then this was the next best thing. there was a finer line between caring for someone and being driven mad by them than most people realised.

laughter followed the words, a shake of her head sending her hair flying over her shoulder. "oh, ru. those aren't the rules of the game. if you wanted someone to unmask you, then they should have been quicker about it, anyway." but curiosity nipped at her. who was it that ruqaiyah dayne wished to lower her mask?

she could not help but ask. "who did you have this little arrangement with, then? was it ravi? safeerah jordayne? who else is it you spend your time with these days?" who has your attention? who is in your bed? the questions she did not ask lingered on her tongue.

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’s glossy lips twisted into a sneer, the pastel pink gloss catching the light as she snatched the mask from devani’s hand. “oh, how generous of you, devani,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. she only went on to toss it behind her shoulder, not caring if it went straight into another's path - and it definitely had, by the sounds of the exclamation and swearing behind her.

“i suppose it’s easy to give away things you don’t need. after all, you’ve always been so good at discarding things, haven’t you?” and that was the catch to the immaturity that seemed to swirl within the lady of starfall, those whispered to be the grace of the evening - she was unable to seem like she did not care. she was unable to put on a nonchalant swagger to her words; but rather, every word was filled with venom.

she rolled her eyes dramatically, making sure her disdain was evident. “as for charging me by the insult, darling, you’d be wealthier than a lannister by now. and we all know your current situation; why else would your brother try to take safeerah's home?” ruqaiyah’s voice was sharp, her words intended to sting. she couldn’t help but keep pushing, the bitterness of their past still fresh in her mind.

"begging suits you. for attention, maybe even more so for coin."

devani’s laughter only fueled ruqaiyah’s annoyance. “oh, yes, it’s all terribly amusing, isn’t it? chikankari, how quaint. you always did have a knack for finding humor in the most inappropriate moments.” ruqaiyah’s posture remained regal despite the venom in her words as she flipped her perfumed thick silky hair, aiming for it to smack devani - and it did.

"what is it you want from all this begging?" she asked, tilting her head and getting into her usual characteristic bitchy stance. "why do you want my attention so much, hm?"

"you never had any complaints before." her eyes rolled. "you ought to be careful, ru. i might start charging you by the insult one of these days, and you've already racked up quite a debt." it was near predictable, the way ruqaiyah would bite back to the annoyance that was devani, yet she could not help herself. it was as though something in her compelled her to keep needling, keep pushing, to prove that she could still stir in her a reaction.

it was why she clutched on to the mask, despite ruqaiyah's attempts to snatch it back, as though they were toddler children and not two grown women of dorne. mischief danced in her expression - devani cared little for what those in dorne thought of her, but she knew that ruqaiyah did. did she even realise she was making a show of herself, over a mask of all things? or did her hatred for devani outweigh that need to be perfect?

"shame?" for the first time, confusion flitted over her face. what had she to be ashamed of? plenty, she supposed, though she felt it very little, but she did not know what it was ruqaiyah referred to this time.

devani put it from her mind as ruqaiyah stepped closer, one hand leaving the mask to close around her wrist. "if i'm going into the fountain, you're coming with me. choice is yours." the corners of her mouth quirked upwards. she was not sure that she meant that she would drag ruqaiyah down with her, nor whether or not ruqaiyah would call her bluff.

"yes. you're correct. i've been following you for hours, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. however did you guess?" it was an outlandish theory, and yet, there was a truth to ruqaiyah's words that devani would not touch. she had wanted to be first, once, and ruqaiyah would have let her. if only devani had done the one thing she knew she never could have - if she had stayed.

she brushed the thought aside, staring at ru's tantrum for a moment, hand pressed to her mouth to hide her laughter. had she truly just stomped her foot? "o-oh dear," her voice was shaky, not quite able to keep steady where giggles threatened to escape her. "chikankari. how upsetting." there was feigned disappointment in her tone. "what a pity."

she removed her own mask then, holding it out to ruqaiyah. "here. if you are so desperate to hide behind a mask, take mine. i don't need it, anyway."

★

ruqaiyah raised a single brow at the audacity of it—calling out to her from the other room like she were some girl summoned from the kitchens, like her heels hadn’t just sung her arrival down the corridor with the clarity of temple bells. she stood perfectly still for a moment longer, letting silence stretch in reply to his voice, her lip twitching with disbelief. you’re early, he’d said. which means i’m technically on time. technically, he was technically a nuisance. he had not come to greet her. not risen, not bowed, not offered even the pretence of preparation. and worse—he dared to mimic her.

and there he was: barefoot, lounging, still in loose garments like he had just woken from a nap rather than risen to receive her. "excuse me, put some shoes on. i hate feet."

if he had been anyone else—anyone less—she would have turned on her heel without so much as a word and left nothing but the memory of her scent clinging to the doorframe. but no. he was ravi. prince ravi. and unfortunately for him, that just saved him. when he called it war paint, ruqaiyah blinked. slowly. deliberately. her head tilted ever so slightly, lips pursed in disbelief as though she hadn’t just spent two hours ensuring every element of her appearance looked effortless. war paint?

“war paint,” she repeated, tone dry as sunstone. “it’s called gloss, actually,” she corrected, setting her small jewelled clutch down with a loud thunk on the nearest marble surface. the sound echoed, sharp and petulant. “hydration, you may have heard of it if you were not here smoking all day.”

she didn’t take his offered hand. not yet. let him stand there a moment longer, reaching—just to remember she was not his to summon like some courtier in need of favour. instead, she let her gaze travel the room as though assessing its worthiness. she was bored, she decided. utterly unimpressed. and she would act as such, even if the flutter in her chest betrayed something more viciously alive.

“i feel you’ve made no effort,” she observed plainly, gesturing vaguely to his tunic with the sweep of her eyes. “unless the brief was ‘freshly roused from a sand nap.’” she turned, just slightly, so the back of her lehenga swished and caught the light again. “do you greet all women like this, or only the ones you’re legally promised to?” she finally moved toward him, slow and disdainful as a cat, stopping just before his hand but not taking it. instead, she raised one perfectly threaded brow again and asked, “what is for dinner? or is that also arriving late, princely style?” she clicked her tongue softly, folding her arms.

ravi heard her before he saw her.

the soft chime of jewelry, the crisp tap of her heels, the imperial hush that followed her into a room. ruqaiyah. he didn't look up from the open book in his lap, not yet. there was a certain joy in letting her simmer, the kind only an eldest daughter of house dayne could manifest with a lift of her brow and the faintest curl of her lip. she expected the world to keep time with her, and so, he made it a point now and then to remind her that he was not the world, he was the sun, too, and suns did not rise early for anyone.

he shifted in his seat, lounging not in the dining room, where a table had, admittedly, only just begun to be set, but in the adjoining room, low on cushions, barefoot, still in a half-loose tunic the color of smoked amber. incense curled lazily toward the ceiling, and a small tray of pomegranate seeds and sugared dates sat beside him, untouched. the air smelled of sandalwood, citrus peel, and something sharper: expectation.

"you’re early," he called out, his voice warm, bemused, and deliberately languid. "which means i’m technically on time."

he rose slowly, with the kind of unhurried grace only a man absolutely certain of himself could wield. he did not come into view immediately, just allowed his voice to roll through the solar like the wind curling through desert canyons.

"tell the prince i am here," he mimicked softly to himself with a grin, crossing into the room at last. and then, louder: "consider him told."

ravi’s gaze swept over her, thoughtful, appreciative, just a little amused, like he was deciphering the difference between invitation and challenge. she was a vision in pink, yes, but also a storm wrapped in silk and fire, and gods, hadn’t he always known she’d arrive like this? not just beautiful, but inevitable.

“you wore war paint for dinner,” he said, mouth tilting into a lazy smile. “should i be flattered… or concerned?”

his bare feet padded over the cool tiles, and he stopped just short of her, not too close, but close enough for her perfume to make him want to forget every plan he'd half-laid for the evening.

then, with the offhanded authority of a prince too used to being obeyed, he glanced toward the archway where two servants lingered at a distance, still, watching. “leave us,” he said quietly.

a bow, a shuffle of sandals on stone, and they were alone.

his voice softened as he turned back to her, now entirely hers. “come,” he offered, reaching a hand out in invitation, fingers adorned in rings, palm open and warm. “they're setting the table, but we can talk here until everything is prepared for us."