𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 ⸻ and girls need cold anger . they need the cold simmer , the ceaseless grudge , the talent to avoid forgiveness , the side stepping of compromise . they need to know when they say something that they will never back down , ever , ever . / 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈𝚁𝙸𝙰 𝙳𝙰𝚈𝙽𝙴 , as adored by annie ( twenty1+ she/they gmt+8 ).
the capital of king’s landing welcomes allyria of house dayne, the ruling lady regent of starfall. news borne by a raven sends word that she bears a resemblance to nazanin boniadi. the forty year old cis woman is reputed to be nurturing and perceptive, but with the eyes of court watching her every move, she might turn out to be bitter and prejudiced. when songs are sung, their verses speak of a ghost of a woman in purple, a body surrounded by bodies ; when zoltan boszormenyi said, emptiness is all, it raised me as i am ; the dark shroud of death wrapped around her features in premature mourning. whispers throughout the seven kingdoms claim that their allegiance lies with house dayne of starfall and house martell of sunspear, where they conspire to serve the intentions of house martell by guiding prince trystane in the capital and placating princess arianne. but in the end, fealty means little when you play the game of thrones.
statistics ⸻
birth name : allyria dayne.
monikers / nicknames / aliases : the starless lady, ally.
gender and pronouns : cis woman and she or her.
orientation : pansexual demiromantic.
date and year of birth : 30th day of the 10th moon, 260 A.C.
age : forty.
titles : ruling lady regent of starfall.
parents : andrey dayne and ilyaria of norvos.
other familial members : andric dayne ( older brother ), arthur dayne ( older brother ), ashara dayne ( older sister ), edric dayne ( nephew ).
significant other : beric dondarrion ( betrothed since 293 A.C ).
allegiance : house martell of sunspear, house targaryen.
character inspiration : tba.
trigger warning for pregnancy, childbirth, death in childbirth, death ( a lot of death, mostly familial ), war, stillbirth ( death of a child ), grief, depression, implied suicide attempt ( by neglect of oneself ).
introduction ⸻
you are born into a state of perpetual mourning. the curse on house dayne starts before your birth ─ even the most unluckiest of men cannot be widowed four times within a span of thirty years but your father seems to have beaten the odds when your mother passes in the midst of your birth, leaving the midwives and the maester to pull you forth from her lifeless body in the futile hope that it was not too late to save her child. you are rigid with impending death, so still in the arms of the maid that bathes you and keeps you warm in bundles of fabric that your father sends for a smaller funeral barge to be made alongside the one for your mother, in preparation for the inevitable. it lays forgotten when you strengthened by the hour with assistance from the dedicated maid, who coaxes your tightly pursed mouth into suckling from a cloth dipped in milk and who sits in a tub of warm water with you until your paper - thin skin is pink with life.
whilst you recover from the harrowing experience of birth, tucked away and equally as forgotten as the burial shroud that is bundled up and tossed into a corner as your wheezing breaths grow steadier by the day, your mother is sent down the torentine in a decorated barge befitting her status was lady of starfall and your sister is called back from her service to princess elia to attend to your needs. it is ashara who names you, sixteen days after you are born. she is old enough to see you as the helpless baby that you are rather than a nuisance, easily fitting into the space that your mother might have filled, had she filled, but her duties are to her dornish princess and she soon entrusts you into the arms of a woman named wylla, who becomes something of a second mother to you, when grief locks your remaining parent away in his mind.
you father seems destined to never recover from his most recent lost, so it is your older brother who steps up as acting lord of starfall ─ newly married and burdened with the responsibilities of the land, he has very little time to dedicate to your upbringing and his wife permits him even less time away from her bed in their enthusiasm to bring forth the next generation of heirs for house dayne, so you are sent to the water gardens as soon as you are weaned from wylla’s teat, in the hopes that you would become a natural companion to the future princes and princesses of house martell, just as ashara had become a companion to prince oberyn and princess elia. your recollection of those days is hazy, at best, and filled with the noises of childhood activity, sweat - soaked hair sticking to your brow and a near - drowning incident that has you wary of large bodies of water for a long time, but in that idyllic paradise, surrounded by children from various social classes, your life is as bright as it could ever be, until the sun is shrouded by the shadows of war.
your feet are creating little waves in the water when news of the rebellion is brought to the gardens ─ the chaos that surrounds the adults that watch over the children is impossible to ignore, raised voices forcing you to usher the little ones into the shallow pools of water to be distracted by the fish. nothing can touch you here, beneath the protection of house martell and prince doran, but you are still found and plucked from the safety of the water gardens on orders from starfall, battling against the people who take you away from the warmth your friends to the windy chill of the palestone sword tower. you only quieten when ashara calls for you from her rooms, belly swollen with a new life. all at once, there is something more important than your childish tantrums and it resides within her. having already flowered, you understand what is happening and why your brother seems so disappointed at ashara’s reticence to share name of her bastard’s father but you can see that the baby makes her happy, so you are similarly pleased and fascinated by the movement beneath the taut skin of her stomach. you are a devoted garden, running to the kitchens to fetch whatever she might desire and no one thinks to pull you away from her side as it keeps you placated and mellow, until the baby comes, some six weeks too early.
( no one thinks to turn your face away when the maester comes out of her rooms, hands red. the air stinks of a copper scent that you recognize as blood. )
when you are allowed back in, the sheets are changed and she is as pale as the pillow she rests on, smiling wanly when you curl up against her side and ask after the child in an innocence that the world has yet to take from you. birthing is a messy thing and no one had bothered to explain things to you, allowing you to fade into the shadows as you always had in starfall, forgotten by the adults around you. when she reaches out to cup your cheek, sticky with the remnants of your tears, you are comforted by the coolness of her fingers and the gentle way she soothes your furrowed brow into a relaxed slumber. the baby girl remains unnamed, a product of ashara’s time in the capital that seems best left forgotten if only to avoid the haunting sadness that fills her gaze whenever your older brother pushes to inquire of the identity of the father, though you fill the funeral barge with your only freshwater pearl hairpin, as gifted by the lady mellario of norvos before you were forced to return home, and pretend not to hear the whispers of your cursed presence as the babe is wrapped in the shroud that had once been meant to bury you.
from that moment onwards, ashara seems to live only for you. any suggestion to send you back to the water gardens to live beneath the safe shadow of sunspear is met with her vehement refusal and you are advised to tolerate her smothering as she toddles you about starfall, half mourning the child she has lost but persevering through the grief for you, for arthur, for elia. it comforts her to speak of them, pointing out the painting that hangs on one of the walls of arthur, ashara, elia and rhaegar, and you are a keen student as she whispers of your family history in service to house martell and arthur’s own legendary reputation as kingsguard and the sword of the morning ─ you remember balancing on prince rhaegar’s knee as he teaches you how to pluck the strings of his harp and how soft princess elia’s hands felt in your hair as you fell asleep, and so you insist on having your name included in the letters that your older sister sends to dragonstone, to give elia courage in such difficult times, but a reply never comes.
( at least not one that brings ashara any joy. )
the maester on dragonstone writes that princess elia has been called to king’s landing by king aerys in response to one of your sister’s letters, and you see the trepidation in ashara’s features as she grumbles about mad kings and negligent husbands. weeks later, another letter comes. a royal missive that declares the victory of the rebel, robert baratheon and the deaths of the mad king, the last dragon and, at the very end, just before the usurper demands for their allegiance, elia and her babes. it is blessedly without any detail of how their deaths came to pass but along with the letter come the rumors and ashara’s grief is as wild as the sand storms in the red mountains, a whirlwind of emotion that wrecks havoc in her room.
the servants pull you away from her as she descends further into maddened grief but you hear plenty when you are concealed in the darkest corners of starfall. there is mostly tears from ashara’s room and you steer clear from that part of the palestone sword tower as much as you can, confused in your own grief and anger, but the rest of the castle opens up to you in ways that you have never known before, even as an underfoot child. it is a strange thing, to realize that you are unwanted, but knowing and accepting lends a maturity that keeps you out of the way and you are only remembered when the time for meals draw near or when you skip out on a lesson with the maester. otherwise, you are unmissed by a household that is more preoccupied with keeping your sister alive and you cannot begrudge them for their negligence when you are equally as worried for ashara. you hear enough to know that it will not be for too long now ─ just until arthur returns from his duties to his dead prince.
( the castle whispers his name like a prayer. arthur, arthur, arthur. )
you wish for his return with all the fierceness in your little heart but all that remains of him is dawn, returned by the man that had killed him. the servants do not think highly of the stark lord that brings back the news of your dead brother, so you think that it must have been a trick, a cheat, a bit of northern magic that allowed him to defeat arthur, but that does not change the fact that your brother is dead, his body buried somewhere in the sands of dorne, never to float down the torentine to join his ancestors as was the custom for house dayne. you hear that from your brother ( the one still alive ) as he lays in bed with his wife, worry keeping them both awake as they dwell on how best to handle the situation but what you hear next is even worst ─ allyria is not enough, he confesses in a whisper that bespoke of frustration.
you already know that there must be something defective within you to evoke such carelessness from those around you, something rotten that spurns their good natures when it comes to your protection, but to hear it so plainly stated, as though he were merely speaking of the weather, turns something sour in your belly. if they hear your footsteps in the dimly lit halls of the castle, they do not bother to chase you, and you do not stop running until you reach the blackness of your room.
( you are not enough. you know this, but that does not make her death any easier to swallow. there is no body to fill the funeral barge but you comfort yourself in the knowledge that she floats peacefully down the torentine nevertheless, to be reunited with her sweet babe. you wonder if she will see arthur there as well, or if his burial place in the sand keeps them from reuniting. your brother huffs, irritated and exhausted, when you ask and you bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you taste blood. )
the curse on house dayne seems to have started with your father though by the time peace is settled beneath the banner of the royal house of baratheon, the servants believe that your birth had been when the curse emerged in full. you cannot find it in yourself to blame them for such superstitions ─ in the short span of your life, you have lost a mother, a brother, a sister and then a father, who passes a few months after ashara throws herself off the tower. he had been so absent, locked away in the quiet of his room, that you almost forgot he existed. you have to be called out of your rooms on the morning of the funeral to say goodbye to a man who had only shared meals with. it is easier to pin the blame on you, unpleasantly odd at fourteen, than a dead man who had been a more than adequate lord before the family sickness took him, drowning him in grief and darkness that was not unlike your own.
it does not help that, after a few years, you are the only soul in starfall that remains firmly rooted in the past. there is no room for you to grow upwards and away from their deaths, not when your every waking thought is filled with the stories that you have been told. it is easier to pretend that you do not care, pushing down all memory, good and bad, in a place in your mind where the shadows stand guard to keep you from unlocking the pain associated with the feeling of being abandoned by your family. ( you tell yourself that you do not care about any of them, dead or alive, thought that cannot be further from the truth. )
the castle sheds it’s cloak of mourning but you are stuck in an internal cycle of grief and guilt, though you are alone in this struggle as you have been alone in life thus far. your newfound maturity calls for praise rather than concern, and no one sees the child that clamors for freedom beneath the veil of not - caring. it takes the presence of a new life to shatter the hold that these shadows have on you ─ edric is small in your arms but warm with promise, and it is impossible to remain unattached when he fusses in your grasp, turning his soft cheek to hide against your chest. you imagine that this is how ashara must have felt at your birth, equal parts undying fascination and a frightening sense of protectiveness over such a small creature.
you are eighteen and edric is suddenly your entire purpose in life. his birth is the first time that you think of your sister in a fond light, bolstered in confidence by the encouraging smiles that your only living brother shares with you as you tell him that this is what true love must be like. ( when he laughs, mouth pressed against your head in a whiskery kiss of fondness, it feels as warm and as welcoming as a hug. )
having edric in your life, even as your sister - in - law passes on from a summer fever in his fourth year of life, separates you from the rest of your family in ways that you cannot understand. the daynes of starfall love fiercely and will eventually die for their loves ─ your father died after losing his wives and his beloved daughter, arthur died after losing his prince, ashara died after losing everyone and your only remaining brother dies after losing his wife as well, leaving you as regent over your young nephew at the tender age of twenty two. but you love edric so fiercely that you live in spite of the pain that threatens to consume you and the torentine that beckons you to join the ghosts of your deceased family.
it is unhealthy, your dependence on him.
oberyn martell, the bastard ( fondly referenced ), remarks on it when you follow edric to the water gardens beneath the pretense of serving as princess arianne’s lady in waiting in 276 a.c. and you wave him off with a grunt, watching as your nephew plays in the same waters that you had once dominated with your own army of friends. but oberyn understands lost and it is through him that your trust in house martell strengthens once again. time away from starfall is healthy for the both of you ─ the ghosts of your family cannot reach you this far from the torentine and you fit into the house of martell easily, caring for the princess and her two younger brothers and allowing lady mellario of norvos to tend to you out of affection for your deceased mother. when mellario leaves dorne in protest over something doran martell has done, to kiss your princess and princes on their heads and smooth back their sweaty hairs, feeling a fondness that ties you to the ground and pushes your demons back even further.
edric cannot remain a child forever, after all, and the time comes for him to squire, to earn his spurs and learn beneath a proper knight, just as it had come for quentyn some years before and you feel the same reluctance to allow him to leave. it would please you to keep him near, in dorne, in starfall or at most, at high hermitage, but you cannot stand cousin gerold ( or darkstar, as he has taken to calling himself ) and refuse to allow edric to get influenced by his ridiculous sense of self - importance. you cannot teach your nephew everything, unfortunately, and he lacks a father figure to set him straight and teach him what it means to be a good man in a world full of cruel men.
at first, you do not even consider beric dondarrion. the relationship between the marcher lords and dorne have always been tense and you dislike him by principle yet he is a persistent suitor and edric is, unfortunately, taken with the man from the moment beric unhorses a man twice his size with just one tilt of the lance. the fact that beric does not even push for the engagement, willing to that edric under his tutelage without demanding a bride in return only sweetens you to his former proposal and an agreement is drawn up that will see edric squire beneath the lord of blackhaven until the time came for him to assume his position as ruling lord of starfall.
( if you make frequent visits to the stormlands, it is only out of concern for your nephew and has nothing to do with the lightning lord, whose bearded kiss on the back of your hand curls an old pleasure in the pit of your belly. )
beric is a good man, an honorable man and one would think you had learned from your sister’s mistakes with honorable men but he shapes your boy up to be similarly good and honorable and you can ask nothing more for the future of starfall ─ you also cannot feign surprise when, asked by eddard stark to bring justice to gregor clegane for a mess that his wife had gotten the riverlands into, both beric and edric answer the call. you learn of their joint decision through a letter that your betrothed pens to you. edric wishes to chase his first victory and what better way than to topple a mountain and bring justice for princess elia, and beric, the fool, thinks himself invincible and promises to devour you with the blood of gregor clegane on his hands.
( you are not surprised when the news of his death reaches your doorstep but it does not hurt any less. if beric is dead, then so is your edric, your little one, your only reason to live. )
it is a sand snake that discovers you wasting away in starfall and drags you to sunspear. it is one of the younger ones, ellaria’s babes, who you had sang to sleep and tickled awake, that drags you onto her horse and rides for the palace of house martell but it is oberyn that rouses you from the shadows. he knows your pain, your lost. he feels it as keenly for his own sister and he soothes it with the promise of vengeance, of fire and blood, of a targaryen to burn all your enemies to dust. after all, what is a mountain in the face of three dragons ?
( nothing. )
plot points ⸻
fire and blood : the current high lords of westeros have taken everything from allyria ─ from the time of aerys targaryen, to his son rhaegar and now to robert baratheon and eddard stark, her family has bled and died because of the actions of the crown and allyria is tired of remaining passively by. she has been given a new purpose in following daenerys targaryen, as well as guiding prince trystane and settling the uneasy heart of her princess, arianne. most of this is to distract her from the grief that she feels, which had been so overwhelming that she had almost wasted away had elia sand not found her that afternoon. but while house martell sees a chance at vengeance through daenerys, allyria wishes to bring proper peace to westeros and she would like to help the young targaryen learn about the people and her history, the good and the bad, to become a good queen. ( will she be projecting some of her mothering tendencies towards daenerys since her nephew is missing ? potentially. )
bring back what once was mine : the lost of edric struck allyria very hard. house dayne has a history of mental illness and depression ( if that was not clear ) and are heavily dependent on their significant others, siblings or children. at the time, allyria believed herself to be the only dayne of starfall left and she did not wish to live but after some time with house martell and rediscovering her purpose in assisting arianne, trystane and daenerys targaryen, she has found a new hope and has begun putting out feelers for her nephew. there are rumors that beric has been killed in multiple places by multiple men but that cannot be true ... not unless he possesses some strange power to appear in many places at once, but she is determined to track him down, dead or alive, and see if she can find edric through him.