tension fell from her shoulders, a defensive hand finding its way back into the soft mane of the horse. finishing the braid, with her gaze still stuck on the other she smiled, wondering why she’d felt so exposed at the first place. though she doubted that the lady harlaw knew her, when dark eyes met auburn hair catching the moonlight, she knew which beauty it belonged to. as if her breath was trapped, she exhaled and remembered that she wasn’t supposed to stare in such an impolite manner. “ i am delighted to hear that, not everyone assumes others to be of ill will.” sometimes she even caught herself in that very same situation. even now, with so many outsiders gathered in dorne or her sibling’s future betrothed being here, she could not shed that sliver of ill will, she’d believe to find in every interaction. “ if you like i can teach you to braid that way, my mother taught me how. it’s meant to bring luck. if my mind does not betray me, you're also participating, no ?” myria’s eyes softened, looking forward to a friendly competition. "it is lovely to see someone represent the iron islands, i believe none of them have signed up for the competition, i figured all of them must be scared.” she grinned. “ truth to be told, i am feeling quite restless, although i’m used to the conditions, as joyous as grand events like these may be, i catch myself being equally paranoid, believing something might happen.” as she finished she noticed how she’d spoken with too much honesty, and her whole being shifted, pitching up her tone when she talked to again. “ what about you ? why are you here at such late hours ?”

matilda de angelis as catarina da cremona in leonardo : episode 1 ( 2021 ).

Indy Lewis as Mychal in House of David (x8)

Here in the south, they say you are all made of ice, and melt when you ride below the Neck.

To anyone, would this be suspicious? Maybe not, but the way his eyes widened, refolding the parchment shut, risking smearing certainly could when someone else came by certainly could. "How long have you been there?" he asks, voice gravely.

HOUSE DAYNE OF STARFALL is a noble house from Starfall in Dorne. They are among the principal houses sworn to House Martell. The Sword of the Morning is a title given to a Dayne knight who is considered worthy of wielding the greatsword Dawn, a blade said to be created from the heart of falling star. Their blazon is a white sword and a falling star, crossing on a lavender background. A cadet branch of the family are the Daynes of High Hermitage.

her lips twitched at the corners, clearing her throat before she finally let out laughter. it had been long, since she’d had any reason to laugh. not one of those polite half snorts ( which she also didn’t really bothered to offer), meant only to lace into another intention . this was laughter that felt familiar, the kind that you could only share with people knowing you well enough to detect the slightest change in it.  although andrik had been sent away, and then it was her turn. she still found comfort in the company of another of her kin. he’d been raised well, whether it was by vickon or the sea ( never by those in dragonstone ), she knew that he’d go far, and that he’d make a great ruling lord of pyke soon.       “ i agree with you. i bet they thought they did us a favor by inviting us, we shall return the favor by meeting their expectations and behaving as uncultivated as they believe us to be .” she said, pushing the fabric into andrik’s hands, motioning him to hide it in jest. “ though i believe they’re not the only ones who think of us as such.” she paused, a flicker of her gaze “ what do you think they’ll do to us, if they catch us ? perhaps have us burned alive by a targaryen beast . ” the alliance to dorne, only added a pile of stone to an already shaky foundation. who knew what small mishap could threaten the tower and send it crumbling into a thousand shreds of other problems .       “ i can say the same about you. they were saying you would change. ” it would be a lie, to pretend that there weren’t voices that wished for another heir. fearing that dragonstone would taint an ironborn’s mind. though, yrsa had never believed in those words, she knew that andrik’s return wouldn’t be as easy as she’d have liked it to be for him.     “ of course, i told them you wouldn’t. as though different and pretty robes could change a greyjoy. ” she said, finding her fingers gripping her own robes, twisting the fabric between them.      “ maybe we might allow something as foolish as hope. seeing a greyjoy win over everyone else would certainly spark my heart. ” she pondered. perhaps she was desperately looking for something to bring her some joy. days in heat, certainly died slowly.     “ lord heir andrik greyjoy are you afraid of horses ?” amusement crinkled her eyes “ i thought if it was one thing the south had taught you, it would be not to fear them.” 

I want to believe that. I want to believe that she's happy.

“But your words are strange as I have brought none of it up.”

myria wasn’t used to having her intentions questioned. too long, she’d spent her time on perfecting the craft of innocence, even if guilt was clinging to her like skin. yet, this time, she really did nothing. and as easily as ill will could be twisted into no will at all, she realized that the same applied to having a good intention warped.  perhaps being the heir to your house did curse you with a general distrust. and whether it was a blessing or a curse in disguise could only be revealed by an uncertain future myria couldn’t tell. still, in that moment she caught herself thinking about her older brother, wondering if he was awaiting the same fate. one that she couldn’t stop and would only drive them further apart.  when the moonlight, fell on pale hair and the other stepped closer, her thoughts about her brother fell with the decline of her hovering hand. instinctively, she stepped back from the horse, signalling that she truly wasn’t here to harm anyone. if it wasn’t for the question, myria would have noticed how their ethereal beauty fit the scene, encapsulating the splendor of that very hour. but myria swallowed, brows furrowing in defense. “ i am simply aware of how strange it might appear that i am near a horse that does not belong to me.” her voice carried an edge, she didn’t intend “i wanted to clarify things before being accused of something I did not do. ” she replied, unable to figure out if they were indeed accusing her or simply asking an innocent question. “ what are you doing here at this hour ?”  she asked, turning the question back upon them.

finding rhaena velaryon roaming about at the same ungodly hours was an unexpected sight. though upon giving it more thought, beyond the initial surprise that she, out of a few, had not chosen a sand steed an explanation began to shape.  ( was it distrust towards dorne ? )  as stiff shoulders fell, and her heart managed to find a steadier rhythm, myria finally dared to speak in a tone no longer guarded. “ i did not know they were yours. they’re beautiful. ” hands finding light mane again, she finished the last braid with a gentleness that allowed it to slip through her fingers before she turned her full attention to the unexpected visitor.  “ I could not sleep. and i thought the horses might use a little token of luck.” only half the truth managed to escape her lips. even now the slightest concern would render her weak. something a dayne wasn’t supposed to be. especially in their own home and with the eyes of the realm lingering on dorne. “ so i thought i wouldn’t just lay around and be useless, i’d be exhausted either way.” perhaps riding in such condition was far from favorable. yet, when had myria dayne ever found herself in a condition deemed perfect?  “ but what about you ?” she titled her head, studying rhaena. “ you’re awfully early … or late, and i doubt you’re here to harm any of the horses.”

she turned her gaze back towards the marigold bordered waters, letting the serene rhythm of the fountains temporarily fill the silence before her thoughts asked to be heard. “ it feels too crowded, the tension fragile ” arianne admitted with a tired breath, dropping the mask of the dutiful princess if only for a fleeting moment, “ like one clumsy step could shatter the peace my mother has painstakingly cultivated. i'm afraid my brother's wedding to the princess viserra will be all for naught, and the dragons will yet again attempt to conquer a throne that is not theirs for the taking. ”

“ these are the best designs, no ?” her smile caught the conspiratorial tone of arianne, stretching it wide, yet it never lost its rounded edge, and still remained soft, always soft for arianne. looking at her, myria was convinced that no one could ever be capable of not having some part of them softened, whether the heart or mind. arianne martell’s presence did not demand, it warmed. and even in the dornish heat, warmth was more welcomed than cold. almost getting lost in those eyes again, finding and searching for more songs that could only ever echo her beauty, myria let a few heartbeats pass that would allow to indulge in her beauty, before she finally spoke . “i’d love to help you design the best escape route your heart desires.” she leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “ i heard the desert race would be a perfect opportunity, our absence wouldn’t be noticed.” she grinned. “ i promise you, i wouldn’t bore you with tedious conversations.” would it be scandalous to simply run away from it all ? perhaps. but it would not be an unfaithful act. after all, the dayne’s would always be loyal to the martells, and if the princess wished to leave, it’d be blasphemous to deny her wish. dark brows rose, when arianne voiced her concerns so openly, but a part of her felt honored that arianne felt comfortable sharing such truths with her. rarely was she deemed important enough that people would consider taking her into their confidence. . “ crowds invite disaster … and if i might speak honestly with you, i do not trust that alliance fully. it feels like a temporary bandage for a wound too grand to heal. ” she pondered, knowing too well what arianne meant. it was naive to believe that houses with varying beliefs and goals would simply sit there under the night sky, marveling at dorne’s beauty. still, she couldn’t help but take arianne’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze, holding her gaze to ensure she understoodthat she wouldn’t be alone in all of this. “ if something happens, you can always fall back on me. i promise. i … house dayne will always be here to protect you. that isn’t a mere courtly pledge, but a vow, princess.”

alarra wondered if she could find herself astonished, if she had at least half of a lifetime that could recall a home. her whole being was still yearning for the north, and even despite having returned, she’d never truly settled. although, she believed that leyla who’d married into house manderly was closest to understand her, she knew that she could barely share that sentiment of finding this place breathtaking. and perhaps there was even more. “ it is just … sand.” not snow. sand just slipped in all those places there it wasn’t needed. and even if you thought you got rid off all of it, you’d somehow find traces of it, in the most unexpected place. perhaps the dornish were the same. thinking that there were someone else and suddenly they just show up somewhere. randomly. just like that marriage if one would ask her. “ is that why you are participating in that desert race ? because you love sand so much?” she knew that leyla was capable enough to take part. in fact, she was even good enough to win this race. still, she saw no point in it. she didn’t need to prove herself to anyone from dorne, and worse a targaryen. 

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