#baashir 003

[myriamas]

who: @baashirdayne / surprise flashback thread. when and where: starfall, 124ac. both myriam allyrion and baashir dayne are seventeen years old

she had not been expecting for the future ruling lord of starfall to come to her chambers this evening; meaning she was entirely in a state of relaxation both in appearance and nerves when the ladies informed her that she had a visitor. as beautiful as every corner of starfall truly remained, perhaps the most beautiful she had seen in all of dorne, she found their ways different to the ways of home where the greenblood delivered her.

"coming!!!" she called, her voice echoing around the chambers, the sounds of her anklets jingling loudly as she picked up the pace into a light run.

the people of starfall were more traditional thinking, more rigid in their approach to matters: and so, she had slipped on a simple orange lehengha when she came to the door, thick dark hair remaining slightly unkempt. "one moment!" she found herself particularly on edge around lord and lady dayne, feeling as though there was something in their gaze, even in their kindness to her. even in the way lady dayne would fix her stance, or where her foot had landed. the door opened, and her mouth opened slightly in surprise to find him stood there.

"arey, you could have said something, na?" she asked, a slight laugh slipping from her lips as she looked upon him. how she looked at him like it was the first and last time she ever would, every time she did look at him.

and it was him. it seemed as though they would cross paths within the keep, whether she found herself by the shore surrounding the island or along the multitude of courtyards; she saw him, perfecting stance after stance, swing after swing. there had been a moment where she had watched with curious observation, what it was the sword of the morning done: mythical, the name sounded. and he would be hers, as she would be his. of all the mornings, she had decided she wanted to spend hers with him; mornings and evenings. beginnings and ends.

"do they know you are here?" she asked, her tone lowering as her eyes glanced around the hallway.

a small smile came over her features as her head remained poking from the door, head resting against the wooden frame. a part of her wondered quietly whether he had come to speak to her of something, something serious; another part of her hoped that the sword of the morning had come to see his own sunrise. "a password for entrance is required. my lord."

"how many chances should i give you?"

[myriamas]

who: @baashirdayne what: continuation of this flashback thread, set during the time a seventeen year old baashir and myriam are attempting to work out when they can wed...once the daynes give their permission.

there was no denying the strange, apprehensive feeling that settled within the gut of myriam allyrion each time they mentioned the lady of starfall, or her future good mother someday. it was never anything she said, but rather how she said, which always made myriam wondering where they stood: a short term ward of starfall with the specific focus on the starfall style of dance, no doubt they did not expect her to be something more permanent. was that an issue?

"did i do something?" she asked him, no doubt referring to his mother; and as much as she masked it with a humoured laugh that slipped through her lips, there was no denying the naivety and anxiety in her voice. all respected the lady of starfall, her son most of all, despite their differences. "do you think it was because i kindly denied the skin lightening ointment she offered me?" myriam asked again, looking over at his comforting presence; she remembered feeling quietly stunned when it was offered over the breakfast table.

and suddenly, she realised all in starfall were of much lighter complexion than her. it seemed the higher caste you were, the fairer you were. there came another nervous laughter at his words, words he would say so casually then swear upon everything he was no poet, watching his thumb trace circles upon her own hand, she thought of her own mother in godsgrace. soon she would return home for some time to attend the wedding of their cousin, and in that time, there was no denying the fact her mother would approach the subject of marriage to her daughter. where else was the perfect place?

as he denied their keeping of secrets was lying, she extended her hand to take his own, letting her fingers clasp with his own almost playfully. "it is lying, you chor. surprise or not."

"maa has been wanting to get me married for a year now...you know she'll use cousin neelam's wedding as an opportunity. i want to be able to return home and tell them i've found someone they'd approve of." she expressed her concerns, hoping, desperately hoping he would understand them. but they were only seven and ten, were they not? and he rambled on about his mother's slurping. "a man with many peacocks and many turtles. and a decent sword." she watched him readily begin to pace, almost as though he were excited, and she found herself mirroring his excitability.

"the untouchables? why are they untouchable?" she asked, calling over her shoulder and suddenly, there was a flurry of bright orange skirts as she gathered her cloak, placing it over her head playfully as the hood were far too large for her. it covered her eyes entirely, and she turned almost comically to walk back over to him. "is this your strange caste system again? what if i am an untouchable?" she asked him, her hand playfully going to her mouth as she began to lead the way.

before realising she did not know where she was going. "but you've touched me. no such thing." she spoke after a beat, her hood remaining over her face as she approached him, almost letting him hold her momentarily before moving her along the hallway. not in that way. never in that way.