Library: White Tower, Tar Valon

Occupants: Isgrimathur, Tamarind, Maeve, Diar, Daline

Daline walks into the library carrying a stack of books, seemingly too large for her. Upon seeing the Aes Sedai she fumbles with a curtsey, then heads over to the general section to place the books upon the table.

Just on her way to rise, Maeve sees in Tamarind's sudden approach a reason to pull herself up just a fraction quicker - and straighter for that matter. That haughtily held chin dips in a faint bow, for a moment only, and grey eyes brightened by swirls of silver regard Tamarind, lingering for a few heartbeats at least before she shifts her attention to Diar, her expression surprisingly disapproving, at least to begin with.

Tamarind slides her glacial gaze from Maeve, having made it clear in some manner that she has seen and noted everything she needs to in regard to the woman for the time being, and lets it come to bear upon Diar. Oddly enough, she smiles.. the curving of her lips bringing even further beauty to her face, but not warming her dispassionate one iota. "Light illumine you as well, Child." No inflection to highlight the form of address, just a faint flicker in the backs of those eyes of green. She continues in a smooth and polished voice, betraying no emotion as she speaks. "Arieste is an Accepted of the White Tower, I do not think it fitting you term her a girl. After all, it was you who petitioned the use of our Library, is it not fitting that you show the proper respect to those who tend it?"

The bookish Accepted glances up at Tamarind with a strange expression, before hastily returning to her task of gathering up her beloved volumes into smaller, safer piles.. which she transfers from the floor to a nearby table.

Tamarind stands near one corner, dimly lit, in which Diar and Maeve has esconced themselves. Arieste, and Accepted, gathers spilt books from the floor at her feet.

Even for all the interest that he did show in the book, Isgrimathur sets the volume down on a desk the moment he sees Tamarind begin moving towards the corner. His brows furrowed deeply and eyes sharply watchful, his emotionless features seem darkened somewhat by the shadowns in the room. Eyes hard enough to make one think him souless, move over Diar and Maeve as he stops but a pace or two away from her side.

Diar raises an amused brow, glancing to Arieste again with a decidedly deep expression, watching and searching, before his lips quirk slightly upward and he looks back to the Aes Sedai. "Be that as it may. Will that be all? I do have some work to conitnue before I can leave the books to.. those who tend them, golden one." He looks over to the Shienaran -- again that wary smile, a little .. wolf-like, teeth almost bared as they show an instant before he turns to look at Maeve at his side. "Could you, mistress,... Mistress Maeve, might you check to make sure the ink pot hasn't spilled? We wouldn't want any of the books to be stained."

Tamarind spares Diar with the directness of her appraisal for one moment as she casts her eyes downward to Arieste and manages to soften her voice without losing one bit of the authority it contains. "Rise up and go about your business, I will see to this now."

Daline continues to carefully set her books on the table in the general area, organizing them in a neat manner. Whenever someone looks at her or speaks to her, it looks almost as if she is cringing, at least inwardly. She appears very closed mouthed, and there is a look of self-loathing on her face, almost as if she hates who or what she is.

Arieste doesn't need a second invitation at freedom, she holds tightly to her breast one or two especially treasured or revered tomes and drops a curtsy to the Aes Sedai before scurrying across the room to resume her place behind the desk.. her eyes blinking once more as she leans over to inspect the books for damage or harm.

Maeve chuckles softly, amusement conquering any feelings of reserve, and she gives Diar a playfully mocking glance before she idly starts to brush dust from her dress again. It may be just your imagination, but she does seem to spend an awful lot of time brushing the bodice smooth and clean, all the time with a little smile playing on her lips. As Diar speaks it grows into quiet laughter and she turns around as he asks, though on the way leaning in to whisper in his ears, her voice a sibilant hiss. "You really should take better care of your bottles Diar, we dont want any spilling.. do we?"

Tamarind takes her time in acknowledging Diar's words, settling the Accepted back out of the way before slowly lifting her sharp gaze back to the man's face. Though she has not allowed the soft smile to flee her lips, her distant reserve has grown harder. "I should think you would stay for some instruction as well, Child, It is amazing to me how many apply for the Tower's permission for this or that, and yet have not the barest modicum of politeness when it comes to respecting those within." Pleasant is her tone, perhaps dangerously so.. and she tips her head just the tiniest bit to the right, habit.. and watches the man. "I do count you amongst them."

Diar seems almost unphased, though any emotions he shows always seem to be simply on the surface, wrapped around eyes and face, masking .. while empty neutrality is behind, untouched. He seems amused, just slightly, though.. "The Bargain was made, Aes Sedai. I owe nothing more to any but Irinya Aes Sedai, and I will fulfill the Bargain when she asks it -- politeness was not part of it, but to be sure I try my best." Eyes slide, flowing really, to Isgrimathur .. again that touch of wariness to his smile as he adds, "Not all men are so polite to women and Aes Sedai as the warriors of the Borderlands."

Having assured herself that the aforementioned ink bottle still stands where it was left, Maeve twirls back around with a cheerful lightness to her step, simply too lively playful to allow the presence of Tamarind to do more than place a slight lid upon the bubbling spirit which seem to fill her. Slender fingers again dance over the dress, correcting the silken scarves about her neck and waist, and grey eyes flicker from Diar to Tamarind, and from there to Isgrimathur.

Isgrimathur's eyes lock with Diar's for but a moment. Once satisfied with what he sees there and perhaps guessed at, the corner of one side of his mouth curls up into what one would guess to be a smile for him. He brings one hand up quickly in a sharp movement, stopping to scratch idly at his jaw as he speaks in a level tone, "You speak truth...we of the Borderlands have learned through many long years how to show our appreciation through actions, not empty words of flattery that any gutter dweller could utter and perhaps make sound sincere. Of course...who can say which way is better."

Tamarind watches Diar as if she has found some new species of insect to study, though she schools her features into an oddly pleasant sort of distance, holding her regal poise in the void of emotion that wraps her person about. "I fear you are somewhat mistaken, Child. Though you have indebted yourself to Irinya Sedai for something you need only have asked at the door for, you are yet required to respect the practices and traditions which this place has observed for time immemorial. Indebting yourself needlessly is no reason to think you cannot speak any way you will when you are here."

Diar grins a little more sharply at the Shienaran, the briefest inclination of his head showing his agreement to something, or acknowledgement, before he looks to Maeve again and smiles a touch more re-assuringly, not that she is likely to need it.. then again, it could be for what he says next, returning the Aes Sedai's gaze for a moment ... eyes unabruptly sliding down and then up again, as shameless as a Mayener, before he replies, "Time immemorial. Things change, Aes Sedai. The Tower as well -- there was no Tower once. Before the Breaking. Yes, things change..." He smiles just slightly at that, a little more... there's no quite word to place on it... "All is the same in the end Aes Sedai, you should know that. As it stands, I've been glared at, stared at, pinched, looked down upon, among other things. That's not a pleasant thing. 'When pushed, pull.' I'm pulling, Aes Sedai, and that's the Wheel weaving as it will, as it pleases the Light." He seems to feel that ends things, though precisely what philosophy he's expounding is uncertain while he offers her a brief half-bow and seems prepared to leave.

Maeve chuckles ever so softly, a grin tugging at the corners of her red mouth as she overhears the lecture given to Diar. Of course, being a quick-minded girl she's aware it could be her turn next, so she does try to behave even if her failure is quite evident, at least at first, leaning over to Diar and addressing him with amusement filling her soft voice. She mutters to Diar, "... might... eaten... linger too... and... would... of..." With that she again attempts to compose herself, though his reply brings another twinkle to her eyes.

Tamarind's queenly bearing lessens none as the arrogant stranger looks her up and down as if she were a trollop on the nearest streetcorner. Perhaps, just a little, that smile grows upon her face, and the coldness of her eyes transcends the boundary of ice, becoming something so hard and distant that it cannot even be described. Her fingers twine quite complacently before her, their sudden stillness the only outward sign of her inner state, and only those who know her well, and they are few, would know precisely what that gesture means. "That there was no Tower once holds no bearing on your position in the Tower here and now." Heated, liquid, rippling is that tool of her voice, beautiful and deadly as she speaks. "It is only the gracious nature of the Amyrlin Seat that permits such petitioners as yourself admission to this library. Do not pull too far lest you are overbalanced and fall, Child." She turns slowly to look upon Maeve, but for some reason says not a word before looking back at her companion and waiting.

Isgrimathur follows the movements of Diar's eyes over Tamarind, and a light empty chuckle comes from his lips as the locks of his topknot shift over a shoulder, him giving a shake of his head. "You are an interesting sort I must say. Walking about this place as if a King or leader of men...Interesting ways of proving oneself as a man as well," His hand drops down from its scratching post along the hard line of his jaw, eyes still flat and unreadable, having continued to rest on Diar this entire time, "The raking gaze of eyes over the form of a woman...it would make one wonder if you had to seek out women to prove that you are a man. There are ways to do such a thing, not of this line of thinking you seem to follow. Surrounding oneself with trollops and acting as a silly fop while amusing, only serves to prove a person to not be secure in what it is they are...perhaps not knowing how many 'swords' they do carry?" The air of faint amusement remains firmly locked in place about him, though a slight shifting of his body also hints at danger prepared if necessary.

Diar actually laughs quietly, a warm sound to it that rings only slightly hollow at Maeve's whisper to him. He inclines his head and murmurs back, He mutters to Maeve, "... vixen..." As Tamarind speaks, he looks back to pay attention to her speak, mindful almost, and something seems to stir in his eyes, impossibly deep in their expression... but that subsides, only it seems to have swept aside the thin veil of amusment he showed, just a very uncaring but encompassing look left to his face. "You do not know the philosophy, Aes Sedai. Perhaps a Brown would understand. One cannot expect overmuch. As it is, I believe I am finished for the day, Aes Sedai. --" He stops, not seeming much to care any more of the Aes Sedai -- does he seriously find the Shienaran a greater threat? But it doesn't matter as he offers that feral smile as he speaks quietly in turn, "The famed Shienaran respect of women shows itself. You owe Mistress Maeve an apology, Borderlander. And beauty is no crime to look at. Unless you deny your Aes Sedai beautiful, Warder?" He seems to have guessed this after time, loking between them both to make sure, before adding at the end, "And I am as I am, Shienaran. Acting like a stone-headed ass only seems to serve the same as acting a 'silly fop.' We all have our masks."

Silvery lighting streaks through swirling grey irises, suddenly sharp like finely honed steel, to herald a coming thunderstorm. Gone is the amusement, gone is any traces of fear around the presence of an Aes Sedai and her warder as Maeve sets her fierce gazeupon Isgrimathur, arrogantly eyeing him with her back straight and her chin tilted up haughtily. Yet her voice is soft, a sibilant hiss, and deceptively smooth. "Now I am truly surprised, it speaks and expresses an opinion, an insult even. " Drawing her lips up on a feral grin, red lips thin and white teeth gleaming she adds with a snort. "I belong to no one, unlike you, so if you speak of me do not merely name me anyones 'company'. You Shienarans are always so stiff and stubborn, you could use a few trollops to lighten up."

Tamarind takes a slight breath, probably not noticeable to anyone who hasn't been watching her closely. She gives but the faintest shaking of her head, dismissive, disgusted.. hints of these emotions she permits to show just behind the haunting beauty and agelessness of her features. "I believe you are finished for more than the day. I do indeed hope you have completed your studies. You may wait within the city for Irinya Sedai's request of you.. you will no longer step foot within this Library or the Tower itself." She seems to ignore Maeve's fiery wrath, not so much as glancing at the woman, nor considering her remarks worthy of reply, though you can be certain she misses nothing of the goings on. Her passionless voice, musical and sweet despite that fact, speaks on. "You may obtain again permission to enter and study here, but only after you have apologized for your boorishness and behavior, and only after I have seen a change in attitude and words. Even then, you will no longer be permitted this far without an Accepted to guide you." She leaves it at that, seeming impervious to the tension that springs to life all around.

Isgrimathur seems to find Diar's retort absolutely delightful as the chuckle turns to a sharp barking laugh, earning several sharp stares from Aes Sedai with heads buried in books. The laughter grows even louder from the barking of Maeve and a hand comes up to rest on his chest...though through all of that, his eyes remain the same dead cast.."Stone headed ass you say?" A clucking of his tongue sounds as his hand drops down from its place on his chest, a cool and composed smile set upon his lips, "Perhaps you are right...shall I cast my eyes about this room for the woman I did insult?" He remains silent, a brow raising slightly yet his eyes rest where they have this entire time, "You amuse me even further man...Of what I think of Tamarind Sedai is easily enough gleaned, she is my Ward..and I her Warder. Much as it has always been here since such a thing was done. Other ways do I find to prove my worth, or my place in this life...And to you..what was it? Vixen? I know not your name, but I invite you to come live a day in Shienar and await at home as your loved ones venture into the Blight..wondering if your husband, brother, or father shall return alive from the horrors there. Once you have done this, then I shall look upon you as a woman."

Isgrimathur adds after a short pause, "And then you shall be offered my apology."

Only a flicker of expression on Diar's impassive face betrays any hint of his dislike for the Aes Sedai's command.. but the nod he gives is almost dismissing, accepting and that's that, while again he seems more intent on the Shienaran -- is it a male thing? -- "You don't answer questions, Warder, but I'll take it that you won't deny it, and are too afraid to say it in public because she'd unman you -- if she hasn't already. And you're a one to decide who is or isn't a woman. The Shienaran's I've met saw any girl a dozen years or older, from wherever she hailed, a woman. I suppose things change, even that." Expression slowly returns to his face as he smiles woodenly, and gives another brief bow to the Aes Sedai. "So be it. Fortunately I think I copied enough. I know of where I can find more elsewhere, at the least." Glancing to Mae briefly he adds as an afterthought, "The Light illumine you both," before he turns around to his table, taking up sheets of stiff paper and quill and inkpot, capping the latter and depositing it in a pouch that goes into a pocket.

Diar inspects the table a moment, searching to make sure he left nothing as he comments in a low tone to no one in particular it seems, though his head is turned more to Maeve. He mutters to Maeve, "Ready... vixen? I've... of... company."

Tamarind reaches her limit as Sister Sedai are actually disturbed from their studies by all of this nonsense, and she half turns to include Isgrimathur in the scope of her gaze. "You would do better to save your breath, Gaidin. He is beyond instruction or understanding in these things." She is as impassive as ever, perhaps more so, betraying even less beyond that composed and expressionless face than before. Coolly watching the man prepare to depart, she makes no move to step out of his way, forcing him to either move round her stately form in the center of the aisle or plow through her if he wishes to go.

One smooth stride forward takes Maeve away from Diar's side and quite close to Isgrimathur. Of midling height as she is looking up at him cannot be avoided, but in no way does it lessen the fiercness which dominates her demeanor now. Tossing her head back haugtily she snarls and smiles cooly at him at the same time, dry laughter in her voice as she replies. "Dare call a Saldaean soft again and I will show you wrong. The bigger they are the heavier they will fall and you Shienarans were always too big for your own good." The fire cools a little, her stance softening, and the smie upon her lips becomes almost mischevious again as she adds, "Of course, I could just as well have showed you that I am a woman, in all ways that count, but I do not like borrowing other peoples belongings without good reason." With that she sinks into a smooth, graceful curtsey, inclining her head almost regally to both Gaidin and Aes Sedai, her voice softly melodious and untouched by emotion as she rises and speaks again.

Maeve says "The Light Illumine you Tamarind Sedai, and you Shienaran."

Tamarind seems to lose some of that distance, and oddly, her eyes upon Maeve are much less stony for some reason than they are upon anyone else. She smiles again at the young woman. "And Light illumine you as well, I am certain it will guide your path." Enigmatic and soft, she trails off, yet watching the Saldaean without expression.

Still amused on the surface, Isgrimathur weather's this verbal storm from Maeve his expression remaining unchanged throughout it all. A quirk of the brow at her reference to 'showing' him is all that indicates he has even heard her words, "If I find a need to be shown a proper woman, youngling..then I shall jingle my purse for you if that is what serves as the proper bait. Until such time, I would suggest you see to your companion..he appears, troubled."

Diar turns around from the table with items he wanted in hand, closing the last book he was looking at as he does so , not intent on letting anyone find just what he was reading in that particular book. But, there he stands, rather expectant .. but resting a hand on the edgeof the table, leaning on it in a sort of relaxed, lazy pose until Aes Sedai and Warder decide to clear way, though he offers with a rogue's smile, "I'd be just as happy to climb under your skirts, Aes Sedai, if that's what you're waiting for, though I do doubt it." And a brief curl of his lips at Isgrimathur is all the reply he gets for his comments, eyeing Maeve for a moment... Very exasperating, that he seems amused, and unaffected, the veil of expression over the unchanging emptiness within.

Schooling herself to retain a perfectly polite and elegant demeanor, every inch a lady, Maeve barely lingers long enough to hear the replies given before she with a last faint inclination of her head almost twirls around, enough to set the green skirt swirling and sliding over Isgrimathur's legs. And just before she is fully turn she shoots a glance back to the Warder, and with silvery laughter in her eyes brings a slender hand to her lips, presses them softly against it and waves at him before catching up with Diar with two long strides.

Tamarind half arches a brow as Diar speaks, slowly disentwining her fingers from before her person and lifting the back of a slender hand to adjust the falling of a velvety pointed sleeve over it. "No no, no need to do anything such as that, Child," her quietly voiced words are soft and light again. Emerald eyes rise to his and hold there from beneath lashes of golden fire. "You may go without further.. favors." Yet she steps not from the center of the aisle.. there is room to go round her, without touching her, if one walks sideways. "Ah, Light be with you as well, Child." Almost an afterthought that.. and she watches without a trace of anything.

Maeve covers a yawn with the same hand she blew Isgrimathur the kiss, again turning around as she sees that Diar has remained in place. Eyebrows arched she studies the small gathering, grey eyes twinking mischeviously still . "Coming Diar, or are you staying just in hope of actually getting eaten?" she asks with a more than proper amount of slyness in her voice considering the company. "If so, I might have to borrow that Shienaran anyhow, while your are busy anyhow."

Diar declines to notice any room around Tamarind -- and bolsters his position of going clear through the aisle by straightening a little and smiling over at Maeve, offering her an arm as he speaks quietly, "We have leave to go. Marvelous, isn't it, my dear? When I had already decided to leave. No wonder the Aes Sedai are so feared; they can tell you to do what you already decided to do without quite believing their fools for it." His voice turns more neutral and dry as he goes on though, expression as well -- obviously the sentiment not conducive to even a thin veneer of amusement, eyes going back and forth between the two as he waits for some little room to be made for him and Maeve to leave.... Though he does grin, an instant, at her comment, eyeing Isgrimathur thoughfully. For an instant, just.