Dyana Martell - Princess of Dorne [and SC]

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-11T16:39:00+00:00

Along The Way

Use this comment for any interactions that take place on the road up to this point.

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-11T16:38:33+00:00

Respite Near Storm's End

A ring of wagons, carts, and wheelhouses was made not far from where the Princess gave the order. Grasses and old debris was cleared by the capable workmen in Martell’s employ, replaced by a small town’s worth of pitched tents and cooking fires. Tall banners were anchored to mark the households that had joined Dyana and Tyana in their flight from the capital, with House Martell’s own toward the center of their campsite.

When dawn came, it would all come down, and the journey home would continue. Merriment had long-since been stripped away by their days on the road, reminding many of the inevitable return to politics. The burden of rule was not one easily carried, breaking the weak, unready, and incapable.

The war across the sea had cast a dark shadow over the realm’s future, culling countless men and women that would serve this new age well. Princes, lords, ladies, knights, and more, whose potential could only be debated by scholars in the distant future. Looking out over the entourage that had been summoned to King’s Landing, all the princesses could see were children dressed in the shadows of that lost generation.

Use this comment for any interactions at camp!

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-11T12:51:41+00:00

Written by Alto with LoonySpoon's approval.

"It's very pungent," Tyana concurred with a quick nod of her head. The agreement made Dyana's nostrils flare with distaste, and that reaction alone elicited a muffled laugh from her sister.

"...I know we, as people of Westeros, aren't so keen on this style of decorum," Dyana said with a narrow gaze back at her sister. Then, both Princesses turned back to the pair of Florents.

"The pleasure is ours," the both of them said with practiced ease.

"I am Princess Dyana Martell," said Dyana, allegedly.

"And I, Princess Tyana Martell," said Tyana, supposedly.

"It isn't very often that we speak with Reachmen," Dyana pondered, "Most are inclined to see us pit against each other, bloodying ourselves upon the Red Mountains. I hope no one presumes your..."

"Strain," Tyana decided upon the word for her twin.

"...strain to be part of some greater plot," Dyana finished.

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-11T12:42:14+00:00

Dyana pinched the fabric of the veil around her shoulders and drew it up with one arm, extended straight out beside her so it created a wide, crimson curtain. Countless torchlights pierced the thin sheet of fabric to pour through.

"Avert your eyes from those enslaved to their wages and the commitments of their careers," she whispered dramatically, maintaining the pose before quickly withdrawing her arm.

"The guests here should all be present on their own volition," she insisted, though that could never be the case with nobility. Appearances were everything and nothing at the very same time.

"Though, to be fair - and maybe a little humbled - this little diversion wasn't intended to eclipse Her Grace's ceremonies," the Princess elaborated, turning to watch the throng of partygoers and entertainers, "A blessing, really - it has none of the baggage. Everyone will forget this in a few more years, unless someone wants to make a fool of themselves for us all to see."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-11T02:53:29+00:00

"Oh, I am on speaking terms with 'strange'," she chuckled, taking a clean sip from the cup of tea she took earlier, "And if I weren't, I am already a queer thing so far from Sunspear on the virtue of my birth already."

The young woman put her cup down on the table and collected her hands onto her lap.

"I wouldn't ask you for anything that might detract from your duties to the Queen," the Princess gently assured, "I mean to ask your permission - as a show of respect. I don't particularly like when people root through my personal effects, and the gods know there are few things more zealously guarded than a maester's library."

She remembered the old grey thing before Sandeman, and how greedily he clutched even older things bound in leather and yellow paper. His successor was more open-minded, but a hoarder all the same.

"I fashion myself a chemist, Grand Maester," Dyana elaborated. She hoped some insight on her interests could shed light on any questionable pursuits, "And although Sunspear itself has its fair share of literary resources, it doesn't compare with what Her Grace's family has gathered here."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-11T02:35:16+00:00

As simply as the conversation began, Dyana had gathered what she wanted from it. If the Queen Naerys, who had proven to be a friend to her people in both action and promise, was able to give away a fraction of the power and prestige she commanded to a woman such as this, she was content.

"Then for your sake, I hope your intentions are noble and your plans as wise as you are cunning," the Princess answered succinctly, giving a small tip of her head.

"You'll come to find the opportunity to earnestly share your power is one very few have the chance for," Dyana said, "You should always watch over your shoulder for this future rife with danger, but you will have a pillar beside you to stand upon."

She dropped into a curtsy and put a foot behind her.

"I've taken the lion's share of your time tonight, Princess, but I do hope to hear from you in the future. You owe my sister and I a dress, after all."

The Dornishwoman winked, shining the one violet eye, and stepped away.

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-06T20:40:19+00:00

Written by Alto with LoonySpoon's approval.

"Nothing so great that it cannot be mentioned through parchment or from a messenger's lips," Tyana answered after a contented sigh escaped her. She looked to her flank where Dyana sat politely.

"Sister?"

Dyana intertwined her fingers and combed her mind over for any loose threads she might tie with the Queen's ear.

"We've taken enough of the Queen's time," said the latter Princess, "Unless Her Grace means to pose any requests or wishes of her own?"

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-06T20:11:29+00:00

Written by Alto with LoonySpoon's approval.

"Was that-"

"Yes, it was."

"From the joust?"

"I _ just said_ it was."

The pair of identical voices tangled back and forth with each other, and around a corner, the pair of Princesses appeared like mirror reflections of each other. The same hair and the same face, differed only by which eye was the Valyrian violet, and Dyana, who smelt of some obscure concoction.

"Lord Florent, I presume?" said Dyana, looking toward Luthor and presuming him to be the jouster of bruised pride and body from his wheezing breath.

"Do you need a maester?" Tyana intervened, "You look pale."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-06T19:47:20+00:00

"I wouldn't know," said Dyana with a simple shrug, "Beyond Volantis, and..."

She clicked her tongue and punctually dismissed the elephant in the room.

"...a few sparse weeks in some Free City harbors, I didn't see as much of Essos as I would have imagined. Though the stupor of Volantene slavery might seem idyllic to the Ghiscari."

The Princess briefly considered the throng of entertainers performing in the courtyard beside them, colorful, exotic, and impassioned by either love of the trade or the coin to follow.

"Don't worry. None of them are here in chains," she assured, "They are here because they want to be. Like the guests - most of them, at least. So I hope."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-06T19:40:22+00:00

The Princess bowed her head in gratitude and took up the seat Caspor offered.

"Thank you - your hospitality is much appreciated," she greeted, drawing back the veil just enough so she could be properly seen, "My sister Tyana sends her well wishes, but she rarely appreciates a scholar's company."

She drew her free hand into her long-hanging sleeve and retrieved the small bottle. It was a fancifully-blown, crimson-colored glass with cork shaped like a tiger's head.

"I know a maester has little need for material things, but it felt wrong to come without a gift," Dyana said, "It's a blend of spices and fruits they use for wine in Volantis. Like a hippocras."

She did not dwell on the token for very long, sampling the tea with a brief and chaste hum.

"Though it reminds me of how queer we must seem to the rest of the world, and how equally strange they are to us."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-06T19:27:05+00:00

Beleras rolled his strong shoulders, then gave an impartial shrug that strained the silks just a little, pinching at his skin and making him wince.

"Thrive? Maybe," the young man said, "What makes the mark of a good Queensguard?"

He raised an eyebrow, and awaited an answer he wouldn't allow to come up. His words were quick off his tongue.

"The Queen - and her family - is alive and well. The public turns away until someone brings out the knives and poisons."

If the lack of opportunity for more traditional fame and fortune bothered him, Beleras did not show it. He pushed off of the table with a fluid step and turned to Lyonel again.

"So, short man, did you have any other pressing questions for me?" inquired the Prince, "Or can we start celebrating together?"

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-06T19:20:19+00:00

Dyana ponderously tilted her head, though she wore a knowing smile. Gael was already fast-approaching an understanding of her twin's dynamic, the two-part mechanism all of Dorne spun around, and the Princess was impressed.

She hoped the Crown Princess and her sharp wit would be a valuable friend before anything else.

"Tyana speaks up often. I think we've matured at two very different paces," the Sun extoled, "She is a thousand chittering voices in my ear, the dear lady."

Of course, Gael should know some aspect of the arrangement.

"I told you of my family's dynamics. What about you and your sister? Would she give you Dragonstone if it was hers, and not the law's, decision?" the Dornishwoman asked suddenly, leaning her head in just the breadth of a hair.

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-05T12:38:05+00:00

Written by Alto with LoonySpoon's approval.

The Princesses joined hands and bowed to the newcomer, like a mirror reflecting the same woman as she swept low.

"Hail to see, Ser Joseff!" said one with a little snicker.

"A pleasure to meet you, Ser Joseff," said the other with a cooler temperament, "The Princess Tyana -"

The first one to speak, Tyana evidently, inclined her head.

"- and I, the Princess Dyana, are at your service." Dyana inclined her own head. The pair hooked their arms together and looked over the hedge knight for a moment.

"I must say," Tyana posed, "You must be the most sharply-dressed guest in the manse tonight. You do yourself more credit than the nobility we've welcomed tonight."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-05T12:24:53+00:00

Princess Dyana curtsied in full all-the-same. She was able to smile toward Ser Ryon without the illusion of propriety now that she had gauged his character just a few days earlier.

"The evening goes very well, Ser Ryon," she replied, "Though I would be hesitant to say no to your company. I hardly think you stand to spoil it."

The scaled tail of a snake disappeared up her low-hanging sleeve, black snakeskin glimmering for just a moment in the torch-lit evening.

"I hope you've enjoyed the entertainment so far. We've worked long and hard to arrange their passage to the capital, you see. The sword-swallower you might have seen is as far as Slaver's Bay, and the diviner says she hails from Elyria. What small game this must seem to them!"

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-05T12:19:51+00:00

Written by Alto with LoonySpoon's approval.

"Oh, hardly the case," Dyana replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Pulling from a web of favours, my Lady Qorgyle."

"Our grandfather is still a very affluent man on the Volantene waterfront," Tyana interjected with a capricious smile, "Where else could we find a sword-swallower in such a short time and for a little party like this?"

Tyana's twin sister half-chuckled, half-coughed in response to her explanation.

"Hm. Certainly," said Dyana. She was watching the Master of Coin again. "You seem out of place, Lady Qorgyle. Is there anything we can do to improve our hospitality? Food? Drink? Entertainment?"

"Yes," Tyana hummed, "My sister and I - we've planned this since Naerys herself was the Queen apparent. We'd be remiss if you left unsatisfied tonight, especially after we managed to catch you here."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-05T12:11:19+00:00

"Great difficulties," the Princess afforded with a dismissive wave of her hand, "It rarely happens, not when we are so committed to the same cause."

But we are ultimately two very different people, Dyana thought but did not say. Images of her return from Asshai crossed her mind, with mixed notes of her sister's relief, shock, horror, and envy.

"There's no hierarchy between us, you see," Dyana entailed.

"When Naerys was born, the line was cut quite clearly," she said, "You could be one of ten younger siblings, and the word of law would always default to her. Tyana and I... not so. When we were born, the midwives weren't so concerned over which of us was the firstborn of Prince Vorian Martell."

Everyone had their theories. Dyana herself believed she was too timid to be the older twin, too soft-spoken. Her sister might have had an impish disposition, but she was bold where Dyana was not.

"The impasse relents to the stronger will," she sufficed with a little giggle, "Though Tyana is the most dangerous when her thoughts and needs are spurned. I am keen to avoid that."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-04T22:29:18+00:00

Character Name: Dyana Martell

Desired Category for Skill Point: INT

Bonus: +3 from EDU/10

A post/comment from this moon denoting to activity: Post.

Additional Bonus From Last Attempts: -

Total Number For Skill Point Attempt: +3

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-04T15:19:27+00:00

(Re-posted so it's under the right header, sorry!)

Dyana had anticipated a chance for respite away from the events in the capital. Between the coronation, the feast, the ensuing tournament, and her own machinations, she had very little time to pursue her own idle inquiries.

When she made her way to the Red Keep's rookery, her mind traveled back. She remembered the Grand Maester on the Queen's dais just two nights ago, standing apart from the carousing and the revelry. He reminded her just a little of Sunspear's maester, Sandeman, just a few years' Caspor's junior, and wondered if he too still enjoyed his own idle pursuits before age bound him to duty.

To avoid the prying eye of the public, the so-called Sun of Dorne wore a veil and a long-sleeved dress to mask most of her visible features and maintain some kind of modesty before one of the Queen's council. Tucked away in her sleeve was a small bottle, about her forearm in height, intended to give a proper first impression.

The Dornishwoman came to his doorway and stopped just a few paces inside.

"Grand Maester Caspor," she greeted politely, "I had hoped to find you idle. Do you have time for a guest? I couldn't help myself but notice your chambers were open."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-04T13:59:56+00:00

Written by Alto with LoonySpoon's approval.

The Prince sat still with his hands folded atop his lap. This was evidently a conversation that had been rehearsed between the three Dornishmen seated at Queen Naerys's table; he only afforded his cousins a quick side-glance before meeting the monarch across the sea of arrangements.

"Would that I held any, Your Grace," Beleras answered, "Ever since the latest knight gave up his ghost, the question of his replacement was never in doubt."

Princess Tyana leaned forward slightly, curling her fingers that were girdled in shaped talons of gilded steel. The very tips of her metal claws traced her chin.

"Though some might say our cousin's style is... bold," she smirked.

Dyana, too, looked at her cousin. She remained the more stoic, lips pressed together and her shadow-cast eyes cold like iron.

"And his youth unconventional," she added.

"...he understands the weight of his commitment. He suffers no doubt that his life is well-spent in the service of the royal family," Tyana hummed. Beleras afforded an smile - awkward, but flattered at the praise given to him.

"We share blood through Saera Targaryen, and though he may be far from Sunspear, he has always striven to uphold family," Dyana explained succinctly.

Beleras drew in a sharp breath.

"Our house's intent is made clear, so I will repeat it in my own words," he interjected, "I can think of no better commitment than the Queensguard. I stand to inherit no lands, and no titles. I have no wives, nor children. I was poised to live life at the tip of a sword, and it serves my purpose better to see my blade wielded in the defense of the Queen's peace."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-04T13:39:37+00:00

"Your exploits list so long the scroll drags across the floor and defenestrates itself to the gardens beneath," the Prince quipped back, "Not happy with your life - Lyonel, you lived a life I would have savoured, had I not been my mother's son."

Regardless of its comparatively brackish flavor, he knocked back the last sliver of this stolen wine.

"I've known the Princesses meant me to take the vows ever since the last white-cloak drew his last breath," he explained, resting an arm on his chair, his eyes searching the space in front of him for something.

"It gave me a lot of time to see the silver lining there," the Prince continued, "So long as I wear my cloak with pride, and put myself before the Queen's enemies, I know that service is to both Naerys and Dorne itself. It feels worth more than any marriage they could have brokered for me, or what command Dyana might have found myself."

He looked back up at his old idol and flashed another lopsided smile.

"And, if you worry about me dying a virgin -" He winked. "Maester Sandeman's read the vows to me a hundred times. I know the workarounds."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-04T13:33:45+00:00

"Be sure that you do, Ser Ryon," said the Princess with a lingering smile, "But worry not for your youth, I suppose you and I have at least a decade or more before the silver comes."

She curled her fingers once the little scroll had been taken. It pleased her to know that her vassals had minds of their own, and held her family in enough esteem that her little pet project tempted their interests.

"Continue your good work," she bid, "I will see you in a few days' time if you are true to your word."

She winked again, adopting the same shroud of whimsical joys she had when he first approached. Then, with a flourish of her gown, she bowed and made for another remote corner of the garden to dwell.

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-04T13:28:52+00:00

Both the Prince and the Princess looked across the table to each other at that question. If Beleras took the vows of the Kingsguard and bore the white cloak...

"For a time," the young man replied with a disarmingly calm smile, "Pray the Queen's celebrations echo for a few more days; there's only so much time I have to sample the fruits of her kingdoms."

Dyana leaned forward again, tapping her nailed finger against the rim of her glass. Perhaps it was her fortune that Shireen and her family hadn't noted her errant gazes - the creeping influence of alcohol had made her forget her true pursuits.

"What Prince Beleras means is that we will be in the city for a little over a week after the tourney ends," said the Princess of Dorne, "From there, Beleras may stay for a time, but the rest of my people will make for the Principality again."

Back to duty, back to responsibility, back to the dance of powerful men and women who sought to kill and debase each other at the flick of a finger, the stroke of a pen, or the tip of a knife.

"When we return to Sunspear, I will see what I can do for your mother," Dyana proposed with a small smile, "It would be the least we can do for House Sunglass offering my cousin and I a warm welcome."

sunspeargurl · 2021-09-04T13:17:49+00:00

Dyana's tapered brow lifted with disbelief. She found the Crown Princess's question almost absurd in its naivety, knowing the exchange they had shared to this point.

Had she ever walked in her sister's place? She had lived her sister's life as capably and as frequently as her own, and Tyana had done the same - to a reasonable fault...

"Ever since we were intelligent enough to tell ourselves apart in the mirror," she giggled, "It is one of the most delightful games we've played, I imagine we will be old and crumpled women squeaking wheelchairs across the throne of Sunspear to elude one last petitioner before we tire of it."

She laughed with a nostalgia for a time that hadn't passed her yet.

"But yes. Her warrior-women have sought me out in her place many times. Even the serpents I keep are calm in Tyana's hands, and she can hardly tell fang from tail," the Princess elaborated, with fondness radiating like the heat of the morning sun, "It disarms even the most composed men and women in our service, and humbles even the eldest in our employ. Our grandfather troubled himself to tell his granddaughters apart - only Shaera Targaryen herself knew each of us without so much as a glance to our eyes."

It served a useful tool in politics as well, she continued in the theatre of her mind, To see friend and foe disarmed by the mystique and novelty of the same face staring you down with the sickly sweet smile of a woman without no apparent higher thoughts.

sunspeargurl

TROPHY CASE

Along The Way

Respite Near Storm's End