Aranatha

A Tiste Andii - daughter (?) of Anomander Rake

Aranatha moved like a lost child, ever tremulous, ever diffident. Eyes widening -- as they always did whenever she awakened to the outside world

The muted dawn light made her seem a thing of obsidian and silver, her long black hair glistening, her black skin faintly dusted, her silver eyes hinting of iron that never appeared. Like some Goddess of Hope. But one whose only strength lay in an optimism immune to defeat. Immune to all reality, in fact.

Clip : 'Aranatha was still a child behind those startled eyes, and perhaps always would be.' (TtH)

Aranatha, who flinches at shadows, ducks beneath the cry of a hunting hawk.  She hides her other self behind a wall no power can surmount.  Hides it.  Until it's needed.

Yes, he could feel her now, an emanation of will filling the entire chamber.  Assailed, but holding.  As it would.(TtH)

Aranatha – who was no longer Aranatha – stepped past him.

But no, her feet were not even touching the floor.  She rose yet higher, amidst streams of darkness that flowed down like silk, and she stared down upon the Dying God.

Who, finding himself face to face with Mother Dark – with the Elder Goddess in the flesh – quailed. (TtH) 

Skintick : "Aranatha was not Aranatha for some time – perhaps you don't remember when she was younger.  Nimander, our sister was a simpleton.  Barely a child in her mind, no matter that she grew into a woman."(TtH)