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A Silent but Deadly Dance (Gaemalyn)
Fri Sep 8, 2006 4:20pm

Tap. Tap. Tap. The Brown Sister was no doubt getting impatient again. The bright red eyebrows poking over the top of the book gave a slight twitch; the only recognition to the ever persistent fingers wrapping against hardwood. Another page was idly turned, as if for the entire world the owner of the brows could not feel the glare that a blind, deaf, and dumb imbecile would have been heading for the hills to avoid. Eyes scanned over the words, soaking them in the way a novices’ sponge did soapy water. The leather bound book on Andor history would have been a ridiculous read for anyone born in the wetlander’s lands, no doubt. However Nyda, of the Nine Valleys sept of the Taardad Aiel, found it to be honest as far as biases went and fairly intriguing. That and it was one of the only books left that the Aielwoman had yet to consume in this section of the Library.

Ever since her return to the Tower and overcoming her brief relapse into self pity, Nyda had thrown herself back into her studies. Rise before the roosters, eat, sweat herself dry, eat again, scrap out any water accumulated at dinner, and plop down on the floor for a good nights sleep. It was a nice schedule to live one’s daily life by, but, as she fell back into sync, it began to slow down. Inevitably, the Aiel had found herself trapped with a couple hours of free time, where the Gaidin all seemed busy and any other fellow trainee that had practiced with her and saw what she considered ‘practice’ was carefully avoiding her. Now, Nyda could have aimlessly wandered around the Courtyards, but that would have induced a rather painful excursion of listening to giggling Novices that had this span of time free as well. To be fair, experience had nudged her toward the truth that not every female training to be a Aes Sedai was a blundering mess of giggles, but enough kept to the stereotype for Nyda to avoid usual hangouts like the plague. Something must happen between that stage and the final one of the Shawl. But how round ogling eyes could transform into that hard-eyed stare, this Aielwoman could not phantom. No, the Library was much safer and the woman had more than a little love for books. Well, almost safer.

A throat cleared. The book lowered enough for grey eyes to peek over the top of it and at the Brown Aes Sedai sitting behind a desk. A complete mask of calm stared right back at her, as if the fingers had not been tapping and the throat not clearing. Even so, there was a tightness about the Shienarian Sister’s lips and a slight furrow of the eyebrows that Nyda might have missed if she had not been looking for them. But she had expected them to be there. Schooling her face into a look of equal bleakness, she returned the stare a moment and then raised the book once more. Though she shifted her position so that she was at least sitting in the chair properly, with her limps within its perimeters, rather than sprawled every which way over the arms.

Another page turned, continuing about the disappearance of Daughter-Heir Tigraine. This was a vastly familiar, is subtle dance. Even though most Aes Sedai seemed educated in the ways of her people, this particular one seemed to question the alleged love that Aiel held for books; Nyda more than some. Though, even if she did, it did have to become rather odd when a Aethan’Tar, much less one from such a famed warrior race, prowled around the Library for such long hours that most relinquished to spending time under the trees when they did have the time. That, and Nyda never checked out the books, even those that could be. She preferred to read them here and her constant presence had to make the Sister suspicious to say the least. But Nyda paid her dues. She entered respectfully, even bowed as proper (an ego blow and a concept she still did not understand) and remained courteous to the Aes Sedai. In return, the Brown Sister never completely confronted her. Though, she had been shooed out a number of times. Today did not appear like it was going to be one of them.

The tapping picked up again, though this time it had a hardier ‘thunk’ to it. Nyda turned another page, maintaining the private raging battle, believing that the Sister was just tapping her nails against a studier part of the desk. She could not have been more off.

OOC: ha ha! There we have it. I was going to go for the Gardens as I look back and see you have been involved in a number of Library threads, but this one was hard to resist and was amusing to write. Hope you can forgive me. ;-)

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