09-14-2016, 04:46 PM
She drifted for a while, effortlessly mingling without attaching herself to conversation, and helping herself to plenty of wine. The majority of exchanges were banal. Either no one truly knew what Daryen was planning – unlikely – else it was something heavy enough to need easing in gently; even the speculation was confined to vague hopes of ‘peace’ and ‘unity’ and copious talk of 'future.' A little tension marked the ease of people who otherwise knew each other well, but that it itself was pretty unremarkable. After gaining a vague understanding of the faces to avoid, her interest lapsed further. Yui was unaccounted for, and Jai occupied.
Comfortable with her solitude, but dangerously bored, she eventually she came to pause by one of the windows, contemplating escape behind a sheet of glass. It would be a wonderful place to explore without so many tiresome people around. If she could Travel, she might slip away with no-one to notice. What harmonies might they favour here? Sometimes she wished she’d never rediscovered her violin; it was like a wound that refused to staunch its flow, that itch to play. Should have left that addiction when I left my life. Memories of family washed through her mind, but the concern was abandoned just as quickly. I wonder what the city is like.
“Have you assessed the room enough, my Lady, to finally ascertain we are not all about to bite?”
Her eyes refocused from the view to the faint reflection of a man behind her. Copper skin, black hair, the ghost of a face imposed by verdant gardens and morning sun. She considered ignoring him entirely, but there came a time when anonymity became not only impossible, but insufferably boring.
“Truth told, the party is rather dull.”
She turned to greet her would-be rescuer, perching herself on the windowsill with half-filled glass in hand. Someone had opened one of the far windows, and a faint breeze cooled her sweat-beaded skin. Thank the Light, even if the respite was faint and scarce. He wasn’t old; perhaps not even of an age with her brother, had his thread not been cut short when he was the age she was now. Carefully oiled hair, no hint of beard – rather handsome, actually, but with the unappealing air of one who knew it and perhaps overestimated his charm. Pleasant enough to look at, pleasant enough distraction as the minutes trickled ever slowly towards... what, exactly?
He shrugged, appearing disappointed by the dry nature of her answer. Ladies were supposed to enjoy such gatherings, and a foreigner should be pleased with inclusion at all; Nythadri read it in him, and saw it dismissed. Clearly, his motive for approaching her had not stemmed from the kindness of his heart, nor probably from his own head. “Maybe you expend too much effort trying to appear inconspicuous?”
“Hardly. I spent much of my adolescence avoiding the courts of Caemlyn. I have had plenty of practise.”
Her lips tilted a hidden smile, but he just look confused. Tedious. “It takes a great deal of rehearsal to perfect the right expression of boredom and unapproachability without being downright rude. I thought I was doing all right until now.”
She softened the insult with a wink and smirked at him over the rim of her glass. How many have I had? Wine not watered down was a luxury unknown to Accepted, and she had not eaten since breakfast at dawn that morning.
“Well..."
he began slowly, testing the unusually frigid waters with sensible caution. "That begs the question: why are you here?”
“Light, I wish I knew.”
If she had a goal, at least she could work towards ticking the necessary boxes, but the information she had to work with was so limited. That either called for initiative, or patience. Her gaze flicked momentarily to Liridia, but she considered interrupting the Sister a last resort. Patience it remained, then, for now at least. “I’m a guest of sorts, I suppose. Not completely willingly, I might add...”
“Of the king’s?”
She smirked at the over-reaching attempt for information, though his expression was all apparent innocence. “More of his sister’s, actually.”
“Ah.”
His gaze travelled to her pale hand, and finally settled on the ring. “Then you’re… Aes Sedai?”
“Light, don’t accuse me of that”
She laughed, and found that the amusement was genuine. He was trying very hard to fathom her out, and perhaps she had teased him enough. A man who at least tried to navigate the barbed ice of Nyhadri's humour was worth the politeness of a conversation at least, particularly when it suited a cure for current tedium. “Accepted, if knowing my title pleases you. But plain Nythadri will do."
“Tamal Suaya.”
He gestured his glass with a white grin, like this exchange of names assured them the firmest of friends.
She let the young man chatter on, picking out bits and pieces to comment on and returning enough for him to realise there was no political gain to be found here. In kind, his topics of choice distanced from current affairs to trivial and leisurely matters, and Nythadri’s interest waned further. Her gaze traversed those gathered, observing the curious who watched her conversation until she pinpointed a man in riding gear lined at collar and cuff with exquisite fur despite the heat. He tipped his glass and she nodded faintly in turn. Suaya. A name Yui had mentioned. She squeezed her memory, already pleasantly fuzzy and resistant to firm hold. Imaad. Imaad Suaya Important, then, if Yui had included it in her subtle list of who not to offend. So much for inconspicuous.
A few times she watched Jai. But there was a reason for her distance from the only person in the room she actually knew, despite the relief his company would bring. Though Daryen was busy playing the perfect host, it seemed reasonable to assume that it was common knowledge Jai had his ear, and Nythadri had no interest in association with him alerting her unusual presence to the nest of vipers that followed the scent of royalty. Perhaps when the dust of frenzied alliance making had settled, when the banter and charm-offensive had died down, if he did not return to Daryen’s circle by such a time. It wasn’t easy to blend in while stark in Accepted robes, though, and her colouring only set her apart more. He found her eventually, and so did the contemplating gaze of the latest woman sat with him. Oh, thank you very much, Asha’man. Perhaps he didn’t even realise the snub, but the domani creature of beauty and grace that vied for his attention would certainly have noticed.
“You know the Asha’man?”
“More a recent acquaintance.”
“Better it stay that way, if you were to ask my advice.”
Tamal glanced the way of the black-clad man and his company before turning square-shouldered away, almost entirely blocking Nythadri’s own view.
“Oh?”
“Rakish sort. Nice enough, they say, but…”
He trailed off, recalculating his route. Dark eyes flickered to her ring, but eventually he continued. “Perhaps not as.. wholesome as some of his brothers in black. Volatile temper - the servants hear him raving, then the next minute he is gone."
Bitterness edged his tone. "This, the man who protects our king. You can appreciate the concern."
"You think he's touched by the Taint,"
she said flatly. The sharpness of his gaze berated her plain way of saying it, when he had tried to be so careful in his phrasing. His irritation had the drip of poison to it, but perhaps her perceptions were clouded by impressions of kinship. Twice in less than an hour she had seen his face drop to menace, like his world was raging a torrent around him while he clung to anything solid to prevent being swept away with it. And she knew as well as any power-born that appearance was little indication of true age.
"I'm not making accusations."
He held his free hand in an open, pacifying gesture. "Just offering friendly advice."
He smiled, whatever thoughts of Jai that had darkened his expression vanishing as quickly as they had settled, and made his excuses, leaving Nythadri alone with a head swimming full of thoughts. Too much wine. She finished her glass, and vowed it was the last. Friendly advice, is it? Somewhere in the sea of faces Imaad Suaya was watching to see which move she made. This blasted game. Despite every intention to remain impartial, she already found herself tangling uncontrollably. Once, her father had told her it was in her blood. It was the very fact she had no choice that made her fight her nature so. "Blood and Ashes."
She dumped her glass more harshly than intended on a startled servant's tray, and took a moment to steel the ice within. I'll regret this.
She glanced at Liridia as she passed, and wondered of just how much the Light blasted woman was truly aware. Was that a smile touching the edges of those ageless lips? As if there is any doubt. Conversation had resumed by the time she approached the two ensconced in cushions and seated herself without invitation or introduction. Considering the sharp look of the woman, she might as well have just stuck her hand in a nest of adders, but any hope at civility had evaporated the moment Jai had insulted her advances with a bored sweep of the room, so the offence hardly mattered - nothing Nythadri did now would change her opinion. A wry smirk was close to the only greeting. "You look about as fed-up as I feel."
Move made.
Comfortable with her solitude, but dangerously bored, she eventually she came to pause by one of the windows, contemplating escape behind a sheet of glass. It would be a wonderful place to explore without so many tiresome people around. If she could Travel, she might slip away with no-one to notice. What harmonies might they favour here? Sometimes she wished she’d never rediscovered her violin; it was like a wound that refused to staunch its flow, that itch to play. Should have left that addiction when I left my life. Memories of family washed through her mind, but the concern was abandoned just as quickly. I wonder what the city is like.
“Have you assessed the room enough, my Lady, to finally ascertain we are not all about to bite?”
Her eyes refocused from the view to the faint reflection of a man behind her. Copper skin, black hair, the ghost of a face imposed by verdant gardens and morning sun. She considered ignoring him entirely, but there came a time when anonymity became not only impossible, but insufferably boring.
“Truth told, the party is rather dull.”
She turned to greet her would-be rescuer, perching herself on the windowsill with half-filled glass in hand. Someone had opened one of the far windows, and a faint breeze cooled her sweat-beaded skin. Thank the Light, even if the respite was faint and scarce. He wasn’t old; perhaps not even of an age with her brother, had his thread not been cut short when he was the age she was now. Carefully oiled hair, no hint of beard – rather handsome, actually, but with the unappealing air of one who knew it and perhaps overestimated his charm. Pleasant enough to look at, pleasant enough distraction as the minutes trickled ever slowly towards... what, exactly?
He shrugged, appearing disappointed by the dry nature of her answer. Ladies were supposed to enjoy such gatherings, and a foreigner should be pleased with inclusion at all; Nythadri read it in him, and saw it dismissed. Clearly, his motive for approaching her had not stemmed from the kindness of his heart, nor probably from his own head. “Maybe you expend too much effort trying to appear inconspicuous?”
“Hardly. I spent much of my adolescence avoiding the courts of Caemlyn. I have had plenty of practise.”
Her lips tilted a hidden smile, but he just look confused. Tedious. “It takes a great deal of rehearsal to perfect the right expression of boredom and unapproachability without being downright rude. I thought I was doing all right until now.”
She softened the insult with a wink and smirked at him over the rim of her glass. How many have I had? Wine not watered down was a luxury unknown to Accepted, and she had not eaten since breakfast at dawn that morning.
“Well..."
he began slowly, testing the unusually frigid waters with sensible caution. "That begs the question: why are you here?”
“Light, I wish I knew.”
If she had a goal, at least she could work towards ticking the necessary boxes, but the information she had to work with was so limited. That either called for initiative, or patience. Her gaze flicked momentarily to Liridia, but she considered interrupting the Sister a last resort. Patience it remained, then, for now at least. “I’m a guest of sorts, I suppose. Not completely willingly, I might add...”
“Of the king’s?”
She smirked at the over-reaching attempt for information, though his expression was all apparent innocence. “More of his sister’s, actually.”
“Ah.”
His gaze travelled to her pale hand, and finally settled on the ring. “Then you’re… Aes Sedai?”
“Light, don’t accuse me of that”
She laughed, and found that the amusement was genuine. He was trying very hard to fathom her out, and perhaps she had teased him enough. A man who at least tried to navigate the barbed ice of Nyhadri's humour was worth the politeness of a conversation at least, particularly when it suited a cure for current tedium. “Accepted, if knowing my title pleases you. But plain Nythadri will do."
“Tamal Suaya.”
He gestured his glass with a white grin, like this exchange of names assured them the firmest of friends.
She let the young man chatter on, picking out bits and pieces to comment on and returning enough for him to realise there was no political gain to be found here. In kind, his topics of choice distanced from current affairs to trivial and leisurely matters, and Nythadri’s interest waned further. Her gaze traversed those gathered, observing the curious who watched her conversation until she pinpointed a man in riding gear lined at collar and cuff with exquisite fur despite the heat. He tipped his glass and she nodded faintly in turn. Suaya. A name Yui had mentioned. She squeezed her memory, already pleasantly fuzzy and resistant to firm hold. Imaad. Imaad Suaya Important, then, if Yui had included it in her subtle list of who not to offend. So much for inconspicuous.
A few times she watched Jai. But there was a reason for her distance from the only person in the room she actually knew, despite the relief his company would bring. Though Daryen was busy playing the perfect host, it seemed reasonable to assume that it was common knowledge Jai had his ear, and Nythadri had no interest in association with him alerting her unusual presence to the nest of vipers that followed the scent of royalty. Perhaps when the dust of frenzied alliance making had settled, when the banter and charm-offensive had died down, if he did not return to Daryen’s circle by such a time. It wasn’t easy to blend in while stark in Accepted robes, though, and her colouring only set her apart more. He found her eventually, and so did the contemplating gaze of the latest woman sat with him. Oh, thank you very much, Asha’man. Perhaps he didn’t even realise the snub, but the domani creature of beauty and grace that vied for his attention would certainly have noticed.
“You know the Asha’man?”
“More a recent acquaintance.”
“Better it stay that way, if you were to ask my advice.”
Tamal glanced the way of the black-clad man and his company before turning square-shouldered away, almost entirely blocking Nythadri’s own view.
“Oh?”
“Rakish sort. Nice enough, they say, but…”
He trailed off, recalculating his route. Dark eyes flickered to her ring, but eventually he continued. “Perhaps not as.. wholesome as some of his brothers in black. Volatile temper - the servants hear him raving, then the next minute he is gone."
Bitterness edged his tone. "This, the man who protects our king. You can appreciate the concern."
"You think he's touched by the Taint,"
she said flatly. The sharpness of his gaze berated her plain way of saying it, when he had tried to be so careful in his phrasing. His irritation had the drip of poison to it, but perhaps her perceptions were clouded by impressions of kinship. Twice in less than an hour she had seen his face drop to menace, like his world was raging a torrent around him while he clung to anything solid to prevent being swept away with it. And she knew as well as any power-born that appearance was little indication of true age.
"I'm not making accusations."
He held his free hand in an open, pacifying gesture. "Just offering friendly advice."
He smiled, whatever thoughts of Jai that had darkened his expression vanishing as quickly as they had settled, and made his excuses, leaving Nythadri alone with a head swimming full of thoughts. Too much wine. She finished her glass, and vowed it was the last. Friendly advice, is it? Somewhere in the sea of faces Imaad Suaya was watching to see which move she made. This blasted game. Despite every intention to remain impartial, she already found herself tangling uncontrollably. Once, her father had told her it was in her blood. It was the very fact she had no choice that made her fight her nature so. "Blood and Ashes."
She dumped her glass more harshly than intended on a startled servant's tray, and took a moment to steel the ice within. I'll regret this.
She glanced at Liridia as she passed, and wondered of just how much the Light blasted woman was truly aware. Was that a smile touching the edges of those ageless lips? As if there is any doubt. Conversation had resumed by the time she approached the two ensconced in cushions and seated herself without invitation or introduction. Considering the sharp look of the woman, she might as well have just stuck her hand in a nest of adders, but any hope at civility had evaporated the moment Jai had insulted her advances with a bored sweep of the room, so the offence hardly mattered - nothing Nythadri did now would change her opinion. A wry smirk was close to the only greeting. "You look about as fed-up as I feel."
Move made.