#( myriam allyrion )

[dastan-allyrion]

truth serum: what do you think of your sister's new marriage?

“I'm not the best person to judge other people's choices in terms of relationships,” he began, for he knew the shadow of his choice of a paramour still loomed over him and his reputation, even if the relationship and association with her had ended. “I believe the marriage came at the wrong time, mainly,” the Lord of Godsgrace added, for the disappearance of Mayya was still something that weighed down on the members of House Allyrion. It was odd to wish to celebrate a wedding so close to that tragedy. “And I fret for my sister's place. Our culture isn't kind to widows who've birthed heirs already. I do not wish to see her ostracized”. But it was done, the wedding had taken place. And so, as a brother, there was one thing he cared deeply about. “I only wish she can be happier than she was in her previous marriage, and that she feels certain about the decision she made”. Everything else could be adjusted to, worked around, he hoped. “My sister and Baashir have had a caring bond for many years, as I understand, so I hope their marriage works out and brings them peace”.

( @myriamas & @baashirdayne)

[devanitoland]

devani's eyes lingered on myriam for a moment, expression softening into something near unreadable. there were times when the truth slipped from her easily, but myriam had managed to coax more than that from her - not just a truth, but a sincerity, the sort of stripped-back honesty she displayed so rarely, preferring to mask what was real under smirks and easy jokes. there was little of that now - simply devani, as she was, in all her stripped back glory. "i think we all think we know everything at that age," she was still smiling, but there was something heavier about it. "until the world teaches us otherwise."

and yet, devani toland still clung to youth and freedom with both hands, refusing to relinquish her grip when the world sought to all but drag her away from it. she'd paid the price for it, again and again, and done so willingly. but here she was, coming back to the things she had sought to run from. "you must think me quite the fool," she said, voice thoughtful. "for leaving dorne in the first place. for returning to the things that would shatter me. both."

she drew lazy circles with her cup, the last dregs of wine swirling in the bottom of her cup. "i suppose that's the trick of it, isn't it?" she mused. "not trying to put the broken pieces back together, but reshaping what's left to fit a purpose."

her gaze turned distant, for a moment no longer focusing on myriam, nor anything that was in her direct eye line, but something far less tangible. "those stories are better saved for a bottle of wine, princess." she chuckled. "or else you may begin to wonder why you even let me back into dorne in the first place. but i'll tell you my tales one day. that is a promise." she missed essos less than she thought she would, but then, perhaps that was natural. she had rarely spent more than a few months anywhere, drifting through the continent like a summer's breeze. she'd never really had anywhere leave enough a mark upon her to miss it.

she studied myriam for a moment, curiosity sparking in her eyes. there was a story of its own there, something left unsaid in the casual mention of dantis' exile. devani had already been long gone by the time her cousin had found himself banished from dorne's shores, but she did not pry, did not ask for more information than myriam. if she wanted devani to know it, it would have already been said.

"i'll see it done," she said at last, inclining her head. "my mother should know how he can be contacted. you'll have your address by midday."

❂

the firelight flickered softly, casting dancing shadows across devani’s face as myriam studied her with a quiet intensity. her dark eyes, lined with careful strokes of kohl, softened further at the admission, though the curiosity that so defined her remained. her lips parted, curving into a gentle, almost rueful smile. “it is strange, isn’t it?” myriam said, her voice low and smooth, a cadence born of dorne’s sultry evenings as her hands rested beneath her chin - she found herself entirely engaged in the conversation, for she was able to talk about what she wished. there was no ulterior motive; nothing that hid within the folds of her chest.

“the way a choice, made in youth, can seem so unshakably right, only to haunt us years later. well, it is what made us girls.” she tilted her head slightly, her gaze catching the faint shimmer of tears devani didn’t shed. “leaving is always easier. it’s the staying—or the coming back—that shatters us.” she shifted her weight, the soft jingling of her anklets echoing through the quiet. one hand, adorned with delicate rings, came to rest lightly on the curve of her stomach. a gesture so habitual it seemed she was only half-aware of it. “shattered, hmm,” she murmured, her voice more to herself than devani as she let out a slight tut.

“but..." her hand came down upon the table with a small smack, her movements expressive and lively, as though she did not reflect the sunny rays of heat, but rather she were it. "even shattered things have their uses. they know how to leave a scar."

the mention of braavos, of volantis, yunkai, asshai—places myriam had heard of only in stories—brought a flicker of something sharper to her gaze. “tales, really?” she echoed, a soft laugh slipping past her lips. “devani toland, you cannot tempt me like that and not share even one. though i suppose i’d trade a thousand stories from across the sea to know what it truly feels like, returning to the soil you thought you’d left behind." she let the moment stretch, her own silence mingling with devani’s before she straightened slightly, brushing an errant strand of hair from her face.

her lips curved again, this time into a grin that felt both casual and conspiratorial. “he knows how to get things done, and his exile has been officially repealled since the death of the prince." she mentioned it in passing, making no reference to dante uller; as much as she struggled with the scene, and knowing she would need to fully explain to her daughter someday what hapened, dante suller had all but set fire to the manacles that had weighed her down. that had made her stay. dantis sand himself had been exiled by mors martell...for finding himself within myriam's bed. "could you forward an address to one of my pages? tomorrow, if possible - i’d like to write to him about something he is aware of.”

[eliaofdxrne]

closed starter for @savijordayne

"and we all know that child was not conceived in their marriage bed," she spoke of myriam allyrion, and her new husband. it was the latest in a series of embarrassments to house martell, all of it tracing back to one root cause, one woman. if she had disliked myriam before, now there was a seed of paranoia within elia that was blooming into something she didn't like.

she turned to glance at savita then, a woman who had been elia's companion since girlhood. many of elia's fondest memories were formed in savita's company, but all of those took place in the time before her ordeal with lord toland. it was not that elia was without sympathy - but the more time past, the more she was at a loss with savita. she wanted her friend back, not this pale imitation that looked like her, but acted so drastically different.

"are you listening, savita?" her sigh was exasperated. "i swear, some days i think my horses listen to me better than you do."

[baashirdayne]

Upon returning from New Valyria, The Sword of the Morning and The Princess Regent of Dorne discover she is with child and in a race against time, the duo have a small, intimate but traditional wedding in Starfall before returning to Sunspear. This is following weeks of back and forth with the following groups of people, often resulting in arguments and drama:

the daynes of sunspear

the allyrions of godsgrace

the martells of sunspear

As you can imagine, the wedding was a tense affair among the guests. This was not done in secret, but they had to move mountains for Myriam did not wish to marry without the blessing of her family and the position of her daughter intact.

This marriage is extremely controversial among the Dornish, who do not usually remarry after becoming widows. Those outside of Dorne would not understand the scandal as it is not unusual for someone to remarry, though may raise eyebrows at her marrying her First Minister after the death of her husband.

As part of the agreement to marry, Myriam Allyrion signs the regency of Dorne over to Prince Ravi Martell - Princess Leila Martell's paternal uncle, and her former brother in law. Moving forward, she is known as either the Princess Dowager or the Princess Mother, but prefers Lady Dayne.

| @myriamas @ruqaiyahdayne @raviofthesun @dastan-allyrion |

[ruqaiyahdayne]

who: @dancingshores when and where: lann's day celebrations within casterly rock, ruqaiyah dayne comes across a nobody who has been climbing the ranks of importance within the court of sunspear. how she hates it.

she had noticed it briefly first, orbs passing over the scene as she found herself engaging in conversation with the hand of king cedric of house tyrell, and then her gaze snapped back to it again.

a familiar figure and voice, all sweetness and honey with long thick dark hair behind a mask; and a head of blonde hair she did not recognise, dancing upon the floor. it was enough to cause her to look upon it, making no attempt to even be subtle; what a scene. this was hardly a surprise, was it? the woman had seemingly given up on her mission of being the most unreliable, detached string in the realm and had instead decided to climb the ranks of court - and climbing the cocks of reachmen.

the music came to a slow as the dance began to end, and she found herself winding her way toward the woman she suspected, and the man that would later be confirmed to be lord gael hightower. and when the dance ended, ruqaiyah had no issue with a slow, sarcastic clap for the duo; slipping right to the side of zahra sand, the dornish court seer.

"amazing." ruqaiyah spoke, her tone gushing in falsehood; and yet, she maintained the gaze of them both. would the reachman see her deceit? no doubt zahra sand would, instantly.

and then she switched to their native tongue, a smooth and seamlessly transition as she feigned a friendly move of putting her hand on zahra's forearm, as though to usher her away. "is the court seer too busy planning on spreading herself on the white man to do the ridiculous job given to you out of pity?" myriam allyrion's favourite pet, was what ruqaiyah called her. all the while, not once did she think of the sister she had left for dead on the borders of the tor. the blood that was never upon her hands.

"i want my palm read. save embarrassing us for later and do your job."

[lencra]

truthfully, she cared little for any conversation about dorne right now. she said nothing to myriam's rebuttal. it was her husband's headache to deal with. she would support him after she had told him exactly what she felt about going behind her back in this way. lenora wondered briefly if he planned to attempt to marry into every kingdom new valyria had a conflict with. she worried the list was long. the targaryens had made many enemies throughout the years and almost all houses had chosen a side during the dance. while myriam was not the person she wished to see right now, she hoped the princess knew that she was not the target of her anger. myriam was not to blame for jaehaerys' foolish choices. and it had been foolish. lenora could have told him that his proposal would be shot down and he only risked offending dorne by suggesting it in the first place. while jaehaerys might stubbornly believe that he could marry all the women he liked, most of the kingdoms knew that marriage was holy and only between two people. there would be some who would only ever consider lenora his rightful wife. whatever betrothal he entered now would be of less value than theirs had been. he would need to understand that in his quest for a second wife. did she have to be the one to advise jaehaerys on that? the very thought sent a wave of nausea through her.

lenora blinked in momentary surprise because of the sudden outburst that came from the beautiful dornish woman. despite the awkwardness between them then she still took a step towards myriam as if she wanted to help, but quickly she stopped as she understood what myriam was doing. while she would have preferred a quieter exit, she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. at least there was a chance people would speak of this instead. still, she very much expected that it would be followed by the subject of their previous conversation. "of course." lenora turned to the guards standing by the door. "make sure the princess and her companions are safely escorted back to their chambers and that they have everything they need at their disposal." her hazel eyes were soon on myriam again. she gave a stiff nod as the parting gesture but there was no harshness in it. "i wish you a quick recovery, your highness." before myriam could leave the gallery, she quickly added: "and send word if i can do anything to aid you." it would sound like it came from a concerned queen, but it was a veiled peace offering, an olive branch, a public message that there was no issue between the two women because lenora already knew the rumours would say there were. the only good thing that would come from this was that perhaps it would allow her to get a glimpse into who supported the doctrine of exceptionalism and who did not. she assumed the valyrians had nothing against it, but despite the name jaehaerys had given his kingdoms then the valyrians did not outnumber the rest of them. attaining such knowledge would be helpful to her, but it would never be worth the humiliation she had suffered.

she had learned long ago that court was similar to the western hills. any sign of weakness and the predators would all get ready to pounce and go in for the kill. they had already begun circling but myriam's dramatic exit had held them at bay. but lenora herself was half lioness and married to a dragon. there were no predators above her here. she had held her head high during the 'tavern princess' whispers. while this hurt infinitely more than those childish taunts ever could, she would do the same now. despite how much she wanted to retire to her chambers immediately to stew in her anger, she went over to one of her ladies-in-waiting instead. she linked their arms before she started talking enthusiastically about the painting they were looking at all while purposefully ignoring the looks of pity and intrigue the lady sent her. the only visible clue that lenora was burning inside with equal parts of rage and embarrassment was the tint of red on her cheeks.

❂

any and all reference to art quietly drained from the mind of the princess consort of dorne in the aftermath of the reveal she had no doubt stumbled across in ways she had not expected or encountered to: considering the meeting was in a formal capacity in the presence of those whose sole purpose it was was to record and archive some meetings, she would have expected that the news would have reached the ears of the queen of new valyria. truthfully, she had not even considered the wife of jaehaerys targaryen in regards during discussions of the matter; only in her initial shock considering he were already married.

whilst dorne remained more open and liberal in regards to what worked for a married couple, marriage was still marriage at the end of the day; between one man and one woman, and of high value to be respected. she had not wondered about the ins and outs of the relationship between the king and queen, for two reasons: one, the foremost, being that it simply was not a care of her own. "he did, your grace." she confirmed, her tone almost laced with a sense of pause. and of regret, to have to confirm what it was that seemed to cause the woman who stood before her so much discomfort.

why did you not pretend? myriam thought within herself, never saying it out loud. her kohl lined orbs swept over the woman's features, who clearly was not lacking: she was what most men would consider beautiful, even within dorne.

the second reason it was not her priority was because myriam allyrion, despite rumours of her promiscuous nature spread across the rest of westeros by men who sought to feel her for all they did not understand her, would never find herself entangled with a married westerosi man in such a way. even if the marriage were merely political, she was not foolish or blind to her own understanding of the world through the lens of emotions; marriage was between two people. to add others to the binding vows would make it less holy, and ultimately of less value.

there was a beat of silence as myriam looked upon the golden features of the queen who stood before her; she was no plain beauty, striking in the features she expected a woman of the west to be - if anything, she truly believed her to be too beautiful for the dragon king. she recognised the flashes within the orbs of the woman, the deep rooted shock of realisation that she had been betrayed in such a way: truthfully, myriam was shocked that the woman who stood before her had even admitted she did not know of such things. she would have played along as though she had known all along, rather than admit that she had been caught unaware in such a public manner.

it did not take a genius to assume that lenora would rather be anywhere but stood before her. though she made no misstep or disservice toward myriam herself, the situation itself would lend enough to the matter; gods knew at this point, she would have been turning on her heels and going to demand answers at the top of her lungs. myriam listened to the words that were uttered by the queen before her, her natural reaction being to apologise on behalf of the king that had not even informed her. unless, it was never his intention - and it was something that had happened in the spur of the moment. something about that made it so much worse. "he did not offend." myriam responded; a half lie. gods, was she trying to cover for him?

truthfully, she was more offended at him suggesting she would marry her daughter instead of dealing with it herself: she would have to assume he realised that though. she did not say it to try and defend jaehaerys, but rather than to move the matter along for the queen. two new rulers, a new beginning rather than dwelling on the past; she found such comments almost tone deaf, considering new valyria was named after old valyria. slaveowners, rooted in blood magic: occupiers of rhoynish lands. she would not be surprised to find such mindsets and ideologies within the court of the dragon king once again - and it was for that reason she would not, not dwell on the past. the past needed to be remembered, to understand why it was tensions would never be resolved.

"there will be no forgetting the past." myriam uttered, her lips lining the rim of her goblet of dornish red.

but could she blame the woman? could she, considering the current situation? seven above knew she still had played the situation with utmost grace, as opposed to what the regent herself would have been able to do. she only offered her a slight smile, before a soft exhale slipped her lips. this was exhausting, and truthfully, it was obvious neither of them wanted to be here. not in the aftermath of what had just happened. she did not even want the queen to have to stand here. and then, there was a suddenly flurry of movement, thick dark hair moving as myriam turned her head.

"move back. move back i said." myriam spoke suddenly to some of the courtiers that stood somewhat clsoe to them - acting as though they were surrounding her, pretending as though she was waving her hand before her flushed cheeks. suddenly, it appeared as as though she suddenly felt all too overwhelmed. "suddenly i have become quite dizzy. the world seems to be spinning." she rested her hand at the back of her neck, looking over at the queen. "may you arrange for a guard to escort me back?" she asked, attempting to make eye contact with zahra sand, who had happily wandered into the crowds. "

[jaehaerysiitargaryen]

What happens following this thread which will be finished promptly:

Following the tense conversation with Myriam Allyrion, Jaehaerys Targaryen makes a choice when he sends for Monty Belaerys and has the man meet him in the garden at the stump of the still bleeding Weirwood tree.

During their conversation it is revealed to the King of New Valyria that Monty does in fact know where Mayya Allyrion is and states she will be out of reach for some time. "Long enough for them to forget."

Wordlessly guards move forward and pushed the Lord of Hayford on to his knees while Jaehaerys removes Dark Sister from the sheath on his waist. He watches as Lords face is pushed against the stump, the weeping mess of crimson resin smearing in to his face.

"There are laws, your grace. Where my trial. I demand a trial." "Not trials for treason."

The body of Monty Belaerys falls away and slides to the ground. The king kicks the head off the stump and puts the sword away. "Put it in a sack. I've someone to give this to before they depart."

The carriage of the Dornish Princess is stopped from leaving until the dragon king arrives and throws it into the carriage.

"Ask him your questions, Princess."

As he walks away his guards close in behind him. Valyrians did not make deals with Dornish. It was time he remembered.

As they pull away, Baashir leaves the carriage and gets on a horse to catch up with Ravi once they're far enough away from King's Landing. In this discussion they agree on stopping in Starfall to further plan their options against this mad dragon king.

[ @malcontentswanns @myriamas @raviofthesun @dastan-allyrion ]

[arronlannister]

who: @myriamas where: in the center of campus where graduation parties were held. notable information: Arron and Myriam have been close friends for many years, a surprising friendship that started when the prince asked for her number. They meet every year on a certain, but often run into one another outside of this day.

The music had been loud his last night here. The grounds packed with graduates and upcoming seniors and the others. The Senior Party, it happened every year when they were students and Arron only went to one, not because he didn't party but as a teen Arron Lannister knew how to throw a party and always preferred his own to others. It was good choice, a choice that led him to a coffee shop. Very good choice.

"There she is, Myriam Allyrion." He smiled at her, walking toward the woman and away from the group that was slowly starting to form, barely remembering to offer them a polite smile in his departure, his half flee. "Come, give us a cuddle." He pulled her in a hug, lifting her off the ground before sitting her down.

"Go on, tell me how much you've missed me."

[armaans]

who: @lorduller when and where: armaan yronwood's apartments within sunspear, set following the dornish return to dorne from kings landing. at this point, joy manwoody has died - set before doran uller's current thread with myriam allyrion.

some years ago, armaan had come to the understanding that it did not matter whether he liked or disliked a person within dorne: considering what truly mattered would always be the ability they had to be able to do something for him at some point in time. every person had a price, a catch, a condition, some values they would skewer themselves for; split themselves open in two, if they would.

and so, armaan had never looked toward the ullers of hellholt and attempted to work out whether he liked them or not - but he had decided they could be, and would eventually be, of some sort of use.

the master of whispers was a shadowy figure in each realm, but there was no doubt that the ullers of hellholt had another reputation entirely: twisted. all had heard of their inheritance system, the kinslaying which he had been made a pariah for in his early youth. it was less about the master of whispers himself, but rather, who else seemed to come with him: the other ullers had too snuck their way from their dunes, and decided to make sunspear home. there were strange new faces within the halls, in a time where the sun of dorne had finally set - and gods knew armaan had been waiting for this day.

doran uller had requested to see him, and so he waited for the man within his office chambers - an unusual move, and yet, there was a great deal of movement happening around the large yronwood and manwoody apartments as items were looked over by servants. the atmosphere was bustling as many walked around them, and armaan looked - wondering what it was the master of whispers could, or would, want from him.

"doran uller." armaan greeted, with an expression that remained as insufferable as it always was; this man was not his friend, and yet, he decided he would not use titles. why? simply because he did not care to. "what is it i can do for you?" armaan asked, standing on the other side of a room as the yronwood guards brought the master of whispers into the room, again with many people moving in and out.

[raviofthesun]

setting: starfall, after the marriage ceremony of baashir dayne and myriam allyrion, a notably tense evening ; starter for @baashirdayne

tradition and culture were inherently important to many, ravi saw the importance of the sooner in the implementation of the latter, and while he would deem the latter the most important, he understood many upheld tradition as the pinnacle of what made their society as it was. the ceremony was at it should be, intimate, and even the prince did not look to hard into the face of the elder women in attendance, for he feared they may haunt him down and question why he did not do more in his power to stop such things.

but ravi saw little use in halting something that was taking it's natural course, he respected it, even. and as the member of house martell in attendance, he thought it even more important he show his own face - as a way of stating there was no issue taken on his behalf, and he only hoped that whatever was to come for the newly weds was not too harsh.

as the small reception commenced, ravi found a moment to approach baashir, a man he had always looked up to as a mentor and friend. "bahut badhaai ho." many congratulations. he stated, in the warm way in which he worded things in these circumstances. it was genuine, however, for ravi did hope they were happy, and would continue to be, though he also, notably, avoided eye contact with ruqaiyah, as well, who was no doubt infuriated by the occasion. he intended to seek her out later, and try to level on the circumstances, but he also wondered if that was his place, as the boundaries of their relationship, to him, seemed entirely indefinite.

[danceofdragonsrphq]

REGION SPOTLIGHT :: THE KINGDOM OF DORNE

The winds of change never stop blowing in Westeros and the same can be said for the region of Dorne. From the death of their Prince, Mors Martell, who ruled for his father to be murdered at the start of his own reign leaving his daughter a monarch all too young. An ever changing court of Lords and Ladies answering the call of the Widowed Princess Myriam Allyrion. Will this new small council be able to handle all that comes with ruling in the stead of a child? Will their courtiers have trust in their Widow Princess? Her council? Or will whispers and accusations of murder grow louder?

Recent Plot Drop: The murder of Lord Rashid Jordayne within voltantis is bound to have severe consequences for the relations between the two realms. will the tolands of ghost hill take advantage of the tor's recent mourning and strike the tor hard?

Houses can be found here. Beneath the cut will include the Small Council of the reigning sovereign of Dorne Princess Leila of House Martell

Wanted Connections: 2 Sisters and 1 brother (Lord of High Hermitage) of House Dayne, sisters of House Manwoody, Sister of House Jordayne, and many more! Come join us in Dorne where they remain UNBOWED, UNBENT, UNBROKEN.

THE SMALL COUNCIL OF DORNE:

current regent, with stewardship over the princess: princess dowager myriam allyrion, wife of the previous prince, mors martell. (if someone picks up a martell, i'd be down for there to be tensions regarding them thinking they should be the regent considering they are a martell)

the first minister of the realm: lord baashir of house dayne, the sword of the morning. this is the equivalent of the 'hand' only they are not called such a thing in dorne, for to consider someone a 'hand' is believed to be degrading. baashir sees over a large stretch of affairs in dorne: but is more military and political rather than social or economic.

the second minister of the realm: dante uller. this individual oversee social conflict within dorne; they are settling regional disputes before it goes further up the chain. they do answer to baashir, tho traditionally the first and second minister work well with one another. they hear audiences and petitions, etc.

the high commander: lady joy of house manwoody. her position is that of strategy and overseeing the standards of the armed forces of dorne, which have now become a standing army. could be a controversial move. she also decides the standards of the armed forces, and their regime.

the master of laws: lord dastan allyrion. he is the voice of justice, and works closely with the second and first minister. dastan will be the judge on trials, working closely with a jury. it is he that is responsible for ensuring the laws of the lands are upheld. drafting new ones, removing old ones, etc. master of whispers: lord doran uller. he is responsible for keeping up to date with what is happening beyond the borders of dorne. his official focus is beyond dornish borders.

master of whispers: lord doran uller. he is responsible for keeping up to date with what is happening beyond the borders of dorne. his official focus is beyond dornish borders.

the master of coin: armaan yronwood. this individual is mathematical minded, and is focused on dorne trying to have a source of sustainable income, inspired by the reach. he knows they need something regular and steady. setting up the likes of banks, multiple branches across the country. he also wants to raise taxes, oof, drama.

the court granthi: OPEN. oh wisdom. this character is the one who can look up ancient lore, does a lot of consistent research of all things knowledge. excavation, unearthing long lost buried structures. this person is also considered to be the holiest person in all of dorne, and is dorne's link with the seven. naturally, due to their differences, this person has a lot of feelings about the rest of westeros and their version of following the seven. knowledge is power, and granted by the gods.

NOT ON THE COUNCIL BUT POSITIONS NONETHELESS:

the web: amaia sand. works closely with the keeper of whispers, and the master of laws. they are the ones who are the flies on the wall, the spies who know how to find themselves in the situations they need to be to hear things. they are referred to simply as 'the web' for they can find oneself tangled. once they have what they need, they tell the master of laws, and it goes further up the chain.

court astrologer:` zahra sand. astrology was huge in india, and i wanna bring it here. they consult the planets, birth charts, to advise on decision making dates and announcements.

finally, we have the justiciar of dorne, who is rashid jordayne. he works alongside his wife loreza martell as almost a 'last chance' way of trying to settle an issue. he is called into dealing with matters should talks have broken down, and any trials are either not able to happen, or have proved to be inconclusive. they are an objective perspective, who present their findings after an investigation directly to myriam.

[dastan-allyrion]

A PRAYER FROM LADY ASHARA ALLYRION

Another empty bedroom in Godsgrace. Ashara sat on Mayya's bed, a candle holder in hand as she looked at the darkening chambers. The sun was setting, taking away the light with it. “Do not let my girl suffer,” the lady murmured. “Do not let anyone steal away her peace... Please, do not let anyone rob Mayya of her worth. Do not leave her at the mercy of abuse”. The Dowager Lady of Godsgrace knew there were a number of ways in which a woman could be made to suffer. She feared that the most for her girl. The lady set the handle holder aside on the nightstand. A sad smile crossed her lips, seeing some of her daughter's bangles scattered there. Mayya never stored things properly in drawers or her jewelry boxes, leaving things around her room. As a mother, she often asked her to be tidier. She felt her frame slouch, feeling worn down, feeling so exhausted emotionally. Ashara reached out and picked one of the bagles, pressing it to her chest. She hadn't cried. She'd not been able to cry yet. She let out a shaky, tired breath, looking ahead at the sliver of sunlight that remained from the sun setting. “If you must take Mayya, do so,” she whispered, feeling her lip tremble as she spoke. It was a horrible wish in some ways, but it was a mother's most loving wish too. “But please, gods, do not let her suffer”. Ashara repeated those words under her breath several times. Please do not let her suffer. She softly rocked herself back and forth, holding her daughter's bangle tightly as she repeated her prayer to the gods. “And please, I beg you, do not take Dastan and Myriam from me,” she rolled her lips. It was then that she noticed she had begun crying. “If you must take anyone else, take me. But do not take any more of my children”.

[eliaofdxrne]

there was not a trace of warmth in elia's face, no upward turn gracing her lips, just the ghost of a feeling she did not like and could not name. she had long since perfected the art of wearing a mask, of smiling when she did not feel like it, of tilting her head to make it seem as though she was truly engaged in conversations she did not wish to be in, of dancing and laughing and pretending as though there was no place she would rather be in the world. the little social butterfly of house martell, the role she upheld and never allowed to falter.

except when it came to myriam.

with myriam, she longer bothered trying to pretend. there was no attempt at civility, no false smiles. there was no point. even if she tried, myriam always seemed to find the chink in her armour, know exactly where to take aim to ensure she hit her target, and elia, fool that she was, let her. and so, this was the approach she took. no falsehoods, no anger, just a cold, terse shortness that made no attempt to conceal the fact she didn't want to be having this conversation.

"well, there you go, then," elia shrugged. "then the two of you can be glad of my distance together." there was a note of finality in her tone that made it plain - elia would continue to be a stranger to myriam's child. myriam's, because there was certain to be no trace of martell in her. was this not what myriam had willed, from the day the girl had been born? elia doubted that she had changed her mind. it were more likely she simply wished to see elia squirm, and she would not give her the satisfaction of that.

"ah. so you are here to demand that i clap on command." her voice was quiet enough that only myriam would hear it, her hands remaining languidly at her sides. she did not even deign to look in myriam's direction anymore, instead skimming her eyes over the swirling silks and glimmering jewels. the question myriam asked went ignored, purely for how patronised elia felt when she asked it.

"you think that coming to stand beside me will conjure the image of family?" she laughed then, a light, hollow sound that held little humour or ease to it. "if that is the case, myriam, then i fear your daughter will face disappointment sooner than most." there was a satisfaction in saying it out loud, even as she knew she had turned the knife upon herself in doing so. but then, she was only voicing what they both knew. the scorn between them had been ever-present since elia was ten years old. it mattered not what she did or said - the ties that had once bound myriam to house martell had simply freyed when it came to her. she had not been enough, and now, she no longer cared to be.

"you're not here for her," she said, dismissively. "you're here for you." because in the end, was it not always about myriam? "does it make you feel better, myriam?" she asked, voice taunting. "pretending this is all for your daughter and not yourself?"

❂

myriam’s hand drifted lazily along the stem of her goblet, fingers tracing the cool metal as though it held the answer to elia’s retort. her lips curled—not quite a smile, but something close enough to one, the kind that could feign warmth but never truly fooled those who knew her. her gaze rested on elia, steady and unflinching, even as the noise of the ball swirled around them in a cacophony of laughter, music, and the clink of wine glasses. and she listened as the other spoke; finding herself eternally grateful she did not need to be some corridors down from this girl any longer.

any hint of this being a playful walk over seemed to evaporate as myriam silently rethought, and rethought, and rethought the comment made in her head; unable to respond whilst they were in the middle of company, but her face spoke wonders. not if she favours her mother. what did she mean by such a thing? what little sly comment was that supposed to be? if she favours her mother. myriam knew there would be no use in talking whilst all surrounded them, for she would be unable to keep hold of the anger that had begun to bubble and brew in the pit of her stomach. instead she let out a low breath, moving her thick cascade of hair to one side of her shoulders, remaining in the awful silence.

she would make sure there were no traces of mors martell in their daughter; wielding her as a mere weapon against his memory, against his legacy, against the shadow he still left upon the wall. she would ensure she would never look upon her daughter, and be reminded of him. a part of her feared she would grow to hate the light in her life if she ever did. if she favours her mother. and then she spoke, her hands remaining wrapped around her goblet of wine as she flickered her intense, kohl lined hues from the surface of the still wine to the face of her former goodsister.

would they always be in one another's lives? would they always feel as though there was not enough space for the two of them beneath this domed throne room? would it always feel as though myriam had lost her actual sister to the cruelty of andal men, and been stuck with this one instead?

"she does, thankfully. who else would she take after?"

the question was one that was intended to slice, and even as myriam uttered the words from her lips, she felt the slice it brought upon her own skin. such things were wicked to talk of, the sheer memory and heaviness of it all; but she would die a death of a thousand cuts, if it meant the martells knew all too well what she had left behind. she would not go quietly, and would make it as uncomfortable for them as she wished. “i want to stand here and present the picture of family, because when the princess of dorne is done dancing with her uncle, she'll see her mother and her aunt stood together clapping for her.” she smiled brightly at certain passers by, her hand increasing in grip around the rim of the goblet; and when another woman randomly stood in their conversation, she laughed at the joke. the sound lilting but devoid of joy. and then she murmured it.

“can you do that?"

[jalabharmooton]

| a banter length starter for myriam allyrion @myriamas​ | | setting: qorban’s solar in the riverlands apartments in highgarden|

Qorban sat in his office looking over the papers in front of him, burning each letter as he finished reading them. As a boy he worked hard to develop an almost perfect memory. He could recall letters and words from any person, he knew the shapes of faces, and changes in voice pitch. It was all a trick of muscle memory. The most important part of muscle memory was using to the advantages of the Kingdom. Serving as spy master meant doing much more than listening to the gossip of the realm and turning it into politics. It involved the spilling of blood the king would have no need to hear or worry about. For Qorban, being a spy meant being good at the little things. Being exceptional at the small details. 

A shadowed whispered to him of someone coming his way. The shadow he sent away with the others who typically stood guard around his office, The warrior women of summer who would hear the sound of heated steps and clanging bangles and they wouldn’t care a Princess required his attention. 

What a fine development, he thought. A connection that ran as deep as he could get when he was inside of her. And when his door opened he looked at her, wordlessly, he leaned back in his chair and pushed back from the desk and gestured to the empty space. 

“Wah gwaan?”

[yeseniaegen]

the current connections of lady yesenia of house egen

queen: queen ravella arryn, whom she is lady-in-waiting to.

family: king consort graham royce, first cousin. lord tristan hunter, first cousin.

those who she admires/respects: lady jossalyn belmore, queen consort rosalyn arryn, princess myriam allyrion, lady meera reed, lady lyra celtigar, lady lucrezia redwyne

those who she dislikes: domeric stone, axell royce ( to a certain extent ), lady yuna upcliffe, king tyland lannister, prince jaehaerys targaryen

[baashirdayne]

By the grace of the Seven, it is with great joy and reverence that House Dayne, in the ancient seat of Starfall, announces the blessed birth of Lady Inaaya Harleen Dayne, Heir of Starfall. On this auspicious day, to the pride and delight of her parents, Lord Baashir Dayne of Starfall and Princess Regent Myriam Allyrion, a daughter has been born, gracing both their noble houses with her arrival.

May the stars themselves guide her path, and may she be as radiant as the dawn that heralds our houses. Let the banners of Starfall fly high in celebration, and let their people rejoice in this joyful occasion.

By the will of the gods, may Lady Inaaya Harleen Dayne flourish in health, honor, and grace.

Issued this day by the decree of House Dayne and House Allyrion.

| @myriamas |