01-01-2018, 01:51 PM
When it suited her, Nythadri found it easy to be affable. Small talk might not be something she sought for amusement’s sake, but she was adept at the niceties nonetheless. Only those most practised at observing the subtleties of another might notice there was always something quite reserved about her, despite her pleasantness and sense of ease. No lack of confidence, just an absence; the faint trace of boredom as she smiled and ate and chatted. Lythia’s forthright manner as they forged towards more interesting topics, though, earned a new attention; some insignificant shift in Nythadri’s posture, an extra spark of intensity to her gaze. Like she was really listening now, instead of playing a polite role in a game of social banalities. Much as she had always tried to distance herself from the snare of daes’dae mar, her life was shadowed by the paranoia of forces beyond her control shaping her life. Lythia admitted intention, and spoke in a most un-Aes Sedai like way. Or perhaps it was just a Green way. Some would be horrified by the idea of children fighting and dying on the front lines, but though Nythadri had never truly considered it, it did not garner a deep reaction beyond simple acceptance. When Daryen’s subjects had shivered in the face of a channeler’s power, it had felt right. Channelers were more than mere men and women, but with the gift came the responsibility.
Wise head on my shoulders? Not a compliment she would have expected from many Aes Sedai’s lips, given her past transgressions. Nythadri was amused. This new tact was refreshing, even if it was just for the novelty of it. Clever, or honest? She was still deciding when Lythia posed her question. Over the rim of her teacup, Nythadri smirked. Years of lessons marched single file through her mind. Logic, healing, law, battle, ter’angreal, knowledge, causes. Simple descriptors of each Ajah, thought without really thinking; which, of course, was not what Lythia was asking. If she wanted to know if I bear any interest in the Green Ajah, she might have just asked. Of course, the answer to that would have been a rather blunt no. The idea of carrying steel; of war and strategy, of blood and passion, incited no inflamed heart in Nythadri. Many girls who choose Green knew early on the path they would take, and Nythadri had never dreamed of a green shawl. Or any shawl, truth told.
She didn’t care for the question, or to be so limited in expression. Her general attitude was apathy, and if Lythia was looking for insight she had little to give – aside from her reluctance to answer the question. Each ajah had its merits as well as its failings, and for Nythadri choosing an ajah had little to do with what virtues it embodied. It was a transaction; a choosing of allies that would place her within a greater structure of ally and enemy. One she was in no hurry to see through. She did think carefully as bid, but not about her choice of descriptors. Was Lythia the type to take offence if she snubbed the question? Would she read arrogance, or blunt honesty? Nythadri had no wish to offend, but neither was she the sort to pander to a favourable impression when it went against the grain.
“I’ve never found much use for labels, Aes Sedai. Every ajah might have its public niche, but if each could be so neatly embodied in one simple word…”
she shrugged, “then I will admit to struggling to find a place within any of them.”
Wise head on my shoulders? Not a compliment she would have expected from many Aes Sedai’s lips, given her past transgressions. Nythadri was amused. This new tact was refreshing, even if it was just for the novelty of it. Clever, or honest? She was still deciding when Lythia posed her question. Over the rim of her teacup, Nythadri smirked. Years of lessons marched single file through her mind. Logic, healing, law, battle, ter’angreal, knowledge, causes. Simple descriptors of each Ajah, thought without really thinking; which, of course, was not what Lythia was asking. If she wanted to know if I bear any interest in the Green Ajah, she might have just asked. Of course, the answer to that would have been a rather blunt no. The idea of carrying steel; of war and strategy, of blood and passion, incited no inflamed heart in Nythadri. Many girls who choose Green knew early on the path they would take, and Nythadri had never dreamed of a green shawl. Or any shawl, truth told.
She didn’t care for the question, or to be so limited in expression. Her general attitude was apathy, and if Lythia was looking for insight she had little to give – aside from her reluctance to answer the question. Each ajah had its merits as well as its failings, and for Nythadri choosing an ajah had little to do with what virtues it embodied. It was a transaction; a choosing of allies that would place her within a greater structure of ally and enemy. One she was in no hurry to see through. She did think carefully as bid, but not about her choice of descriptors. Was Lythia the type to take offence if she snubbed the question? Would she read arrogance, or blunt honesty? Nythadri had no wish to offend, but neither was she the sort to pander to a favourable impression when it went against the grain.
“I’ve never found much use for labels, Aes Sedai. Every ajah might have its public niche, but if each could be so neatly embodied in one simple word…”
she shrugged, “then I will admit to struggling to find a place within any of them.”