Kindred Spirits?

Writers: Chelle, Miriah
Date Posted: 19th October 2013

Characters: Asley, Nyma
Description: Asley meets a possible kindred spirit
Location: Harper Hall
Date: month 3, day 10 of Turn 7

Nyma stared at the sheet in front of her, humming softly. It was a
mournful sound, and as she hummed, she wrote the notes down with each
change of tone. She paused and sat back, picking up her gitar and
plucking out the mournful cry of music on the strings slowly.

Asley didn't sing and she didn't play, but she was surrounded by
people who did. It was strange. Ever since her Hall had been
destroyed, she had always been lumped in with the harpers. It was odd.
With her perpetually stained fingers, she entered the room to pick up
some sheets that would have to be bound. She looked over at the girl,
considering for a moment, before she gathered the bundle up. She
looked a bit mannish with her apron and hair put up to avoid it
streaking into the ink.

Nyma sighed softly, the plucking of the strings vibrating as she
closed her eyes for a moment to hear the soft strains she had created.
She heard the rustle and stopped, opening her eyes to see the other
girl in the room. There was an odd expression on her face as she laid
the gitar down in her lap and nodded, almost hesitantly. Her voice was
low and husky as she gestured to another bundle at her side. "Do you
need these as well?"

Asley's brow thickened for just a moment. "They said the stack would
be waiting on the shelf here. Were those on the shelf?" She wasn't
sure-only following orders, but didn't want to mess up the job. She
was so close and she wanted her knots so bad so she could leave this
place in the dust.

Sucking in her lower lip, Nyma frowned and tugged at her delicate ear.
"I don't remember." She glanced at her gitar and sighed. "I'm afraid I
got involved in my music and I suppose I just didn't pay attention."

**Great. Another one of those stupid girl harpers** Asley hated the
type-just taking lessons before going back to their Hold to get
married. Waste of time. "Well then, I'll have to go and ask the
journeyman. I guess I'll just take them with me and show him on my
way."

The other girl blinked, picking up on the body language and
expressions, and then frowned. "What's your problem?"

**Nothing you could fix.** She thought about what she wanted to say. It went
something like **I like girls romantically and I used to be in a Weyr where
I could be how I wanted. Now I'm stuck in this Hold where I can't. I just
need my knots and it's taking forever. I hate it here!** But instead she
just looked back for a moment and replied, "Don't worry. It's nothing you
would understand."

Brows furrowed and she put aside her gitar to stand up. "How do you know?"
Hands went to her hips. "Maybe I would. But whatever your problem is, I
didn't cause it."

"Never said you did." **Which is why I will get these and just be on my
merry way.** She proceeded to gather everything up, preparing to make a
quick exit.

Nyma eyed her and then turned back to her gitar. "Fine." She plunked the
gitar back into her lap and with thinned lips, began strumming carefully,
her brow deeply furrowed.

Asley thought about something and turned to Nyma before she left. "Do you
ever go out to the Hold?"

Fingers stilled on the gitar as Nyma turned to the other girl and wrinkled
her nose. "Faranth no. Why would I want to go there?" She sniffed audibly.
"I have no use for those hidebound, arrogant..." She trailed off, catching
herself before she insulted them further. She cleared her throat. "No. I do
not. Why?"

Maybe she was okay people after all. Asley debated saying anything further,
then spoke softly. "Because it isn't safe. I've told some of the girls
but...some of them want husbands so they go anyway." Maybe that was fine as
long as there was an escort involved.

Nyma just blinked at her for a moment. "I know that. But I don't want a
husband. I've not set foot in the Hold and I don't want to. Ever. To be
saddled with..." She scoffed. "No thank you."

"Why don't you want a husband? Even female crafters marry." Asley wanted to
be sure of what she heard.

"Not all of them." Nyma replied firmly. "When I get my knots, I'm going to
the Weyr to teach. I won't be expected to marry then." She strummed her
gitar, the mournful chords echoing in the tiny room.

"Oh. I came from the Weyr. I want to leave here too, but being a
printer...well I could end up in a lot of places depending on where they
post me. I liked the Weyr
though." She missed her friends-so much.

There was a moment of quiet. "I've never been." Nyma spoke softly. "Is it
true about the Weyr, then? That you can be what you want?"

"It depends on what you want. I had to come here to get my knots." In other
words, Asley had chosen her career over herself for the moment.

"Hmm.." The remark was non-committal, but Nyma stopped strumming her gitar
for a moment, staring off into space. "Well, that's where I am going after I
get mine. Any Weyr."

"Do you....have a lot of female friends then?" There really was no way to
say it and Asley knew she could get into trouble if she did the wrong thing
to the wrong person.

Something about the hesitant question caught Nyma's attention and she went
still. Her eyes flicked over to Asley and for a long moment, she just looked
at the other girl, weighing her carefully. "I did."

"I did too, when I was there." Her voice was wistful and she hoped that the
right meaning was coming across for a person that was looking for it.

Nyma was watching Asley closely, fingers flexing on her gitar as she spoke
softly. "But when you're at a hold or a hall, you have to be a little more
careful of who your friends are."

"Very true. Which is why I have none now." It was a sad state of affairs and
one that made her feel like the Hold was her prison. Asley sometimes wished
she had chosen a different craft, but if she had-she wouldn't have been able
to craft anyhow.

There was another long pause. "But have you tried looking?"

"Not at all. Work, sleep, eat. And most of the girls here...aren't my type
of friend anyway." That was true in many ways. She couldn't stand the
spoiled brats.

Nyma finally nodded in agreement. "They are a bit..." She paused, trying to
find a diplomatic way to make her point. "Traditional, aren't they?"

"Indeed." Her eyes came back up again as she considered Nyma. "Ummm..
would you maybe want to share evening meal together?" She didn't have any
friends but maybe...

There was a tilt of her head and fingers flexed slightly on the gitar
strings. There was still a doubt of whether or not she could trust this
girl, but she supposed the other girl, if she was what she thought, would
feel the same. Nyma took a breath and finally smiled a little. "I'd like
that."

Last updated on the November 2nd 2013

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