|Created by||Aviaine Chaimere (player)|
|Affiliation||The Grey Tower|
Daneine is of average height, about 5'5". She has grown up a noble's daughter in Mayene, and her appearance reflects that. Her skin is creamy alabaster, unblemished by the sun -- she rubs the finest creams into it every night. Her nails are long and polished. Her hair is a glossy black, and she usually keeps it swept back in an elaborate updo.
The most remarkable thing about Daneine is her eyes. The left one is emerald green, and the right one is a chocolate brown. This always startles people, and Daneine is very conscious of the unnerving effect her eye-contact can have on people. It makes her uncomfortable.
Daneine is used to a completely structured, rigid life. She does the same thing every day, at the same time, in the same manner, as a noblewoman should. Since birth, she's been trained in the proper ways to become a Lady -- her needlepointing is exquisite, she can play several instruments, has been trained in voice and dance, is an accomplished rider (but only sidesaddle, and only on a sedate old mare who would never think of doing anything unexpected) and knows how to govern a household with a firm, yet gentle hand.
On the other hand, Daneine has never touched a weapon, faints on sight at the appearance of blood, and is immensely afraid of anything unexpected or out of the ordinary. The cruelest thing someone can do is cause a rift in her schedule, or throw something unfamiliar in her direction. She's never cooked, dressed herself, or sewen anything less commonplace than a pillow slipcover. In short, she can do everything that is beautiful but nothing useful.
All that could be heard in the room was the soft swish, swish of a needle, running swiftly through the fabric held in place with an embroidery hoop. The smooth linen held a cortege of small pink and yellow flowers, edging an array of bluebirds which surrounded a half-finished bell. It was the bell on which the needle worked now – practiced hands added tiny stitch after tiny stitch to the near-finished display on the cloth.
It was only a few hours after Early, so it was to the morning room that the girl had taken her stitching. Had it been after lunch, of course, the sitting room would have been the place; after dinner, the parlor would have sufficed. The time of day dictated the girl's actions as much as her own mother did. Everything in House Ayendan was done properly and in its place.
The girl's milk-white hands flew through the air, competent and confident. Every nail on that hand was trimmed, smoothed, and polished. A satisfied hum whispered through the girl's cherry-red lips, spread as they were on skin the texture of a baby's. She had had Lucie, her maid, spend an extra few minutes on her hair that morning, ensuring that the raven black tresses shone as much as the needle in her hands. Swept up on top of her head as they were, her thick curly locks displayed to perfection petite ears from which hung large emeralds, sparkling in the morning light. The stones were the same color as her heavy silk brocaded dress, edged with thread of gold. Her rich black slippers were the same shade as her hair and her dress were. Around her neck hung a heavy necklace, adorned with pearls and emeralds the same shade as the ones in her ears. The girl was almost a picture of perfection – the only thing marring her beauty was her eyes. The left one was a piercing green; the right, a dark brown. People could never stop themselves from shying away from her disturbing glances, no matter how accustomed to her they had become.
The tall mahogany door swung open, issuing in a petite woman in a soft pink gown. The woman had the same black hair as the girl, though her own eyes were gray. She raised an eyebrow at the sight before her.
"Stitching again, I see? Your dowry must be significant by now." Crossing the room, the woman extended a slender hand to draw back a heavy damask curtain. "You need light, daughter. This poor scene will damage your eyes."
The girl scoffed softly. "More than they already are damaged, Mother?" Her voice was high and sweet.
The woman laughed softly, almost mirthlessly. "There is an Aes Sedai come to visit. You may stay while she is here. Make no noise."
The girl nodded softly, not taking her eyes from her stitches. "Yes, Mother." A shiver of excitement ran down her spine; she had never been allowed to stay when her mother met with important guests. And an Aes Sedai! The girl had heard of the legendary channelers, but never before had she been given the opportunity to observe one in such close proximity.
The woman nodded and, sweeping her rose-colored skirts from under her, situated herself in a high-backed chair. She nodded to a blonde maid, who disappeared for a moment before pushing the door open again.
"Anaisse Sedai of the Grey Tower, sister of the Blue Ajah to see you, madam." Elsie's voice was smooth; it was not the first important guest she had introduced. The maid stepped inside, followed by a woman so regal that even the girl's mother blinked for a moment.
The Aes Sedai had hair the color of the sunset. Flame-red, burnished with highlights of gold, auburn, mahogany, she wore it loose in ringlets down her back. Her skin was a dark copper tone, darker than even the few Domani the girl had seen this far south. Her eyes were blacker than midnight, flashing smooth serenity mixed with haughty pride as she regarded the pair. Her dress rivaled the girl's own in richness; a cobalt blue, it swept across the Aes Sedai's bosom and trailed to the floor, shining in silken spendor. The woman's back was ramrod straight, even as she entered the room. Her very air spoke of breeding and confidence.
The girl's mother rose without thinking. Coughing slightly to cover her surprised expression, the girl watched the Aes Sedai through lowered lashes. Now there was beauty.
"I trust your journey was uneventful?" the girl's mother spoke in even tones, lowering herself into the chair casually as if it had been her plan to stand when the Aes Sedai entered the room. "Won't you sit, Anaisse Sedai?"
"Thank you, yes." The woman settled herself into a chair near the fireplace, though the logs under the chimney had not yet been lit. Folding her hands over her stomach, the Aes Sedai regarded the girl's mother with her black-eyed gaze. "The journey here was as uneventful as is to be expected. Carriages do jounce one around so, it seems."
The girl's mother tightened her lips imperceptibly. House Ayendan had sent its carriage to carry the woman from the palace in Tear; she did not appreciate the slight. The Aes Sedai's expression did not exchange.
"Now, Rhulain, shall we discuss what it is I came to discuss?"
Smoothing her pink skirts, Rhulain smiled tightly. "We shall, Anaisse, provided your words do not twist themselves about as they are wont to do."
The girl groaned softly to herself. The afternoon would prove long indeed, if her mother and the Aes Sedai insisted on this charade of slights masked – poorly – by civil discussion. She rolled her eyes discreetly and returned her full attention to her embroidery.
The girl reached for the teacup, bringing the thin Sea Folk porcelain to her ruby lips as her gaze watched the continuing interaction between her mother and the Aes Sedai. It had been a long afternoon, with only one break in the middle for lunch. The girl had long since grown bored and set her full concentration on her stitchery. The bell was nearly done.
"Where is that woman?" Rhulain Ayendan's mutters reached the ears of her daughter. A pink the same shade as her dress rose to her cheeks as she, once again, tapped the bell which was supposed to call the servant. Griselle did not appear, as the girl knew she would not. This was the time that the milk was delivered; the blonde maid had slipped out to the kitchen to see the handsome delivery boy.
Lips tightening, Rhulain's gaze fell on the girl. "Daughter, will you pour the tea?"
Nodding, the girl put aside her embroidery and stood, pale hands brushing the heavy black skirts of her dress before she lifted the teapot and crossed the room. She filled her mother's cup first, then turned, lowering the pot to the Aes Sedai's empty cup. Anaisse Sedai put a hand on her arm.
"Very interesting," the woman murmured, raising her other hand to lift the girl's chin. "It is not strong, or I would have felt it earlier, but…it is there. Interesting."
The girl's heart was thudding in her chest. What under the Light was happening? She cast her gaze down, fearful that it was her startling gaze to which the Aes Sedai was referring. What is interesting about me?
"What is your name, child? When I leave here, you will accompany me to enroll as a novice in the Grey Tower."
The girl's head snapped up, startlement crystal-clear in her odd eyes. She didn't know what to think.
"Daneine, ma'am." She swallowed and cast a glance back at her mother.
The Aes Sedai nodded. "Daneine. It is a good name. You will make a good Aes Sedai."
Daneine was stunned.