Somewhat Damaged (Attn: Matty)

[Craig]

Elia

The nib of the quill made quiet swishing noises against the paper, as Elia added her name to the bottom of the letter. Habitually, she sprinkled sand over the ink, before shaking it off with a belaboured sigh. The ink didn't need to dry with this pen, nor did the quill need refilling. Carefully, she rolled the letter over, and slid it into a tube. Later on, she would stop by the pigeon coop, and have it sent off to Fal Dara.

Elia placed the iridescent ter'angreal back on her desk, meaning to move onto something else, but instead she found herself staring into it. The quill and inkwell were Ravak's, left in her care when he disappeared off to the Three-fold Land with Sinead. My brother and my friend, gone. Elia didn't have anyone else to speak with, not amongst the novices and Accepted at any rate. Not in the same way she could talk to either of them about her discoveries. She ran a finger over her Great Serpent ring, the first ter'angreal she had created. It had no use, and it looks entirely normal for an Accepted's ring, but it was special nonetheless. The iron disc that sat in her desk drawer was her second creation, although she had yet to test it; this was yet another reason she wanted Sinead or Ravak.

Eventually she pulled her gaze away from the quill, and pushed back. The chair screeched against the floor, but the unpleasant sound was the least of her concerns. The loneliness she felt wasn't just from a lack of company. Zae Sedai treated her like some oddly prized possession, although Elia didn't feel special or prized. All of her successes had been her own, not in the presence of the Indigo sister. And the Mistress of Novices - no, she couldn't speak about that. Both of her mentors made her feel like an Accepted. The red-haired Shienaran just wanted to be recognised as a person instead.

Thoughts of a tall, brown-haired Drin'far'ji entered her mind. Danos. Their last and only encounter had been the start of this period of exile. How long had she been studying so intently, and trying to ignore everything else? And for Danos' part, how did he actually feel about her? Delicate fingers rubbed at sore eyes. Why had life taken this awful turn? "Life, hah," she intoned bitterly. It wasn't much of a life, no friends, no family, no-one to talk to, and all of the work and studying in the world. She wanted to be free from these chains, just even for a day. For an afternoon! Warily, she rose to her feet, and padded towards her dresser. She pulled forth a new dress, and quickly changed out of her creased clothing. How I would love to wear something other than white. Another thing she was tired of.

In short order, Elia Darrow appeared out from her room in the Indigo Ajah's section of the Grey Tower, and she headed anti-clockwise. She had already forgotten about her letter to her parents, and instead found herself aimlessly wandering around the Tower. Fingers played with her loose hair - braiding was too much effort for the moment - twisting them into spirals or loops, anything to keep her mind off of everything else that was going on. A few people that passed gave her concerned glances, but none of them stopped the Accepted who seemed lost in her daydreams.

Those daydreams stopped as she got to a door. There was nothing special about this particular door, one of countless many that led into an Accepted or Dedicated's quarters. But for weeks now, she had been fascinated and transfixed by the person behind the door. She ran her nails over the wood, soft scratching sounds emanating from her hands. Murdock Mather. When Elia had last seen the Far Madding man, he had just caught her and Danos in the Gardens in a compromising stance. But her burgeoning skill with Compulsion had rescued her from punishment, and had left the Dedicated dazed and confused. But how long would that last. Mirin had not gone far enough in their studies for her to know the answer, so for weeks, Elia had felt the need to check for herself. Now, in front of his door, she didn't even hesitate. She knocked twice, firmly. There was some noise behind the door - good - and Elia took an opportunity to look around. No-one else appeared in eyesight. Good. The Shienaran sensed saidar nearby, readied to be embraced and used against Murdock within a short moment, if she needed to. Her secrets had to be kept.

[Chris]

There was plenty for a Dedicated to be doing with his time, and Murdock ought to have been in the Library rather than his room to complete his research. But private study time was a luxury the man had earned on occasion, and so he was able to sit at his small desk and peruse over the titles in front of him. ‘Anatomy of the Human Body’ sat to the right, whilst another book propped up in front of him, open, with a detailed diagram of the arm. Some scratchy notes were made with a pencil, but for the most part the man studied silently, hardly moving apart from to flick a page.

The rapt knock at the door caught his attention and he shook his head before straightening up, squinting at the door suspiciously. Murdock was not a man who received visitors. People did not visit him through choice, and the Master of Soldiers had, well, a few very good reasons to come looking for him actually now he thought about it. Oh well, if he’d been caught then so be it. The Dedicated took his stick and eased to his feet, making his way over to the door and, presumably, his fate.

Or not.

“Oh.” It was the Accepted Elia, someone Murdock only really knew through her association with the Master of Training. As with most people, Murdock had no strong opinion of the redheaded woman because why would he? She was just some trainee he saw sometimes, and sure some people might think she was pretty or beautiful or whatnot but personally, Murdock didn’t see it. She wasn’t blonde, her hair wasn’t curly enough, and she wasn’t Giselle. Harrumph. What business did she have here with him? He hadn’t seen her for some time. The last time they’d spoken was in the gardens, when she was consorting with the trainee, whatever his name was. The one Murdock had accidentally hurt with his “Healing”. That was an interesting time. The garden meeting had been ever so brief and in truth, Murdock had attempted to put it out of his mind because, to his dismay, he was a little puzzled by the events of the day. The Murdock before the meeting and the Murdock after didn’t quite... fit together... as odd as it sounded. He didn’t know what to make of it, and so he chose to ignore it.

“If this isn’t a summons from an Aes Sedai or Asha’man, I’m not interested. I’m busy.” Murdock’s voice was deep and quiet, a smooth murmur which took away the harshness of his words. The bemused look on his face was a different story though, and as he stepped back to close the door on the girl it was clear he wasn’t going to entertain her company. He had some research to be about!

The tingling on his arms should have warned him but Murdock hadn’t been expecting it and by the time he did, well, the Dedicated was no longer closing the door. Instead he held it open, and a brilliant smile crossed his face. The smile was unlike anything the Grey Tower had seen from him before, and it lit up his face in a way it hadn’t for some years, shaving years off his age and adding lightness to his inscrutable, dark eyes.

“I would like to come in to your room,” the Accepted said, and the coquettish smile made Murdock’s heart beat a little faster.

“Of- of course,” Murdock agreed readily, widening the door to let her past. What a fool he was for trying to turn her away, of course she could come in and keep him company. If she wanted to enter his room then she was more than welcome to.

His room was like any other Dedicated’s, simple with a scrap of blue rug on the floor. It was tidy of course, and the only things that really made it his rather than someone else’s were the medical texts on his desk, and a spare walking stick propped in the corner. He did have a bowl of fruit to hand as well, if that counted? Murdock shut the door, wondering ever so briefly at why the Accepted was in his room now, but remembering that she requested it made it make sense, so he put it out of his mind. Instead he turned and smiled at her. “Please make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking over to the bed and taking a seat on it. He stretched his leg out and gave the redheaded Accepted a friendly look.

[Craig]

Elia

Elia slid her way into the Dedicated's room with a gracious smile, pushing the door shut behind her before anyone had a chance to see the weaves of Spirit she was spinning. A beautiful cord of saidar, like finely-crafted silverwork, stretched out from her into the Dedicated. Murdock's reaction had been less and more than what she had hoped; just as gruff and grumpy as she remembered, but at least her lessons with Compulsion weren't going to waste.

The Accepted stepped into the room, peering around in mild interest. He had not been into any of the Dedicated's rooms before, and it was with muted disappointment that she noted it was no different from her own. Murdock had a collection of books, a walking stick, some fruits, but nothing that seemed personal. Her brother hid his interests behind a grumpy façade, but in private there was plenty of evidence of his true interests. Apparently this wasn't something shared by Murdock. Elia read a couple of the titles. Medical books. So Murdock was destined for the Yellow Ajah. The thrill of her manipulation was swelling her sense of self, as she made the slow turn around to look at the whole room, before she turned back to face the severe-faced man. Oh. He was smiling, and it took years off his appearance. Much like Ravak's beard added years on his. Ravak...

"Please, make yourself comfortable." He was sat on his bed, which looked no better than her own, with what had to be his bad leg outstretched. How had that happened? A question for later. Pursing her lips momentarily, she opted to sit beside him, smoothing out her skirts. Murdock seemed... besotted wasn't the word. Eager? Willing, maybe? That sensation of power surged through her again. She held her hands in front of her, placed in the middle of her lap, carefully not to incriminate herself any further. She turned her head to regard him, malachite eyes studying his features. "What do you remember about our earlier meeting, in the Gardens?"

[Chris]

That was a good question, and one which hit pretty close to home. Why, he'd only been thinking about the garden meeting a moment ago when he first opened the door, and now it was the first thing she mentioned? Murdock should have been more suspicious than he currently was, but for some reason it only seemed right and natural to answer her question about the meeting without pondering over any ulterior motives.

"To be honest," an unnecessary phrase in these circumstances, "my memory of the event is a little hazy. I recall walking in the gardens, and coming across yourself and the trainee. I stopped to speak with you because I thought that you were acting inappropriately, but it must have been a trick of the light, or... or something like that..." the man sounded doubtful now. He looked away from the Accepted and at the wall instead, his usual expression back on his face. "I left you both to your own devices after you threatened me with the Master of Training's wrath. I don't think it's very professional to use someone else's rank in that way but if you aren't doing anything wrong in the first place, then there should be no need for that."

The Dedicated had tried to ignore the puzzlement in his mind but now he had been approached with it and forced to deal with it directly, it didn't quite seem to add up in his head and the confusion was clear on his face. He didn't know what it could be, maybe he was just losing his mind, but he did feel that something was not as it should be in this scenario.

"Why do you ask?" he said, turning back to Elia with more suspicion in his dark eyes. "I answered your question, now you answer mine." It was unusual to be in this circumstance, a woman on his bed who was not his wife. Two trainees in a room together like this was normally a bad idea... this was tickling at other memories, altered memories, and the Dedicated was wary without knowing why.

[Craig]

Elia

The silver filigrees of Spirit came together like snowflakes forming a rich tapestry of light in the air, then in a violent fashion spun like a flurry and struck out at the Dedicated. He shouldn't be this suspicious so quickly. A tinge of panic ran through Elia, but she swallowed it down just as she forced the weave into Murdock.

The turmoil in her mind didn't stop her automatic responses to men. She lay a hand gently on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "There's no need to be so tetchy, Murdock. I just wanted to recall where we left off. A bad start, I think." Her hand made its way down his arm, caressing him through his jacket. "I've seen you around the Infirmary, and I'm about to start teaching Healing to some novices and Accepted. I thought we should get to know one another, is all." Delicate fingers trailed against the back of his hand.

She twisted around some more, pulling one leg underneath herself, so she could face Murdock better. The Accepted felt so full of power, with saidar pumped through her. "You always seem to have that sour look on your face, and not just because of my foolhardy attempts to place my brother between myself and your judgement. Why is that? Is there-" Anything I can do to make it better? Light, I'm not here to coddle the man. I just... What? What did she want?

The Shienaran thought back to her private studies with Mirin Sedai. Compulsion had many uses and applications. She didn't just have the ability to nudge a person's thoughts or emotions; there was a way to clear a mind of memories too. Her hand wrapped around the Dedicated's. Maybe, with a bit of finesse, she could pluck out herself and Danos. It was worth a shot.

She gave him her most warm and friendly smile. "You can be honest with me Murdock. I don't bite."

[Chris]

Murdock didn’t mean to be tetchy. It was just who he was, now he was alone. It wasn’t a deliberate act, or something that he had decided upon since birth; he was a product of his time and experiences, and those experiences were sad ones. He looked down at the woman warily still, especially when her hand was on his arm, because normally anyone who touched him in that way would be shrugged off immediately. But Elia? No. They were getting to know one another, like she said. So Murdock allowed her hand to trail down his arm towards his own, larger hand, where her delicate fingers tingled along his skin and reminded him that it had been a long time, a very long time indeed, for a man to have not held a woman.

Giselle. It always came back to her. Murdock knew the feel of her hands as if she was in the room, not Elia, but this was not the same touch. There was no substitute for her and there never would be. Elia thought he had a “sour look” on his face? Little did she know that was just the outside. His despair permeated from within, and the sourness was all that showed of it. The core, at the heart of it, burned like the sun, threatening to melt him from the inside every day.

It was okay though, he could be honest with Elia. The words were simple, but they rang with truth to the man, who relaxed a little under her warm smile and the touch of her hand on his arm. His heart had been shifting in its broken state before but now, it was just resting, quiet and still. The respite that came from trusting Elia, was a peace he hadn’t known for some time, simply because he could talk to someone and feel less alone.

He answered her question literally. “I look sour because I am unhappy,” he explained, matter of fact and honest. “My wife was killed at the Black Tower, and I miss her every day. We were married for fifteen years, and we have four children together. Now they have neither of their parents because I am here, and their mother is dead because of me. No, not because of me, because of the Black Tower, but if I had never sparked, then we would have never gone there.” His voice was as quiet as ever, and it was more accepting than unhappy, though he wasn't exactly thrilled about his current situation either. The Dedicated knew there was nothing he could do about it though, so he had to try and move on as best he could. Unfortunately, his best wasn't good enough.

He realised he was gripping the Accepted’s hand a little too tightly; with a sheepish smile, he released it. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t burden you with this. It’s my loss to carry.” He carried it every day, and he was tired of it, but this was one load he could not put down. He gave the woman on the bed next to him a shrug, because there wasn’t anything else to explain his sour mood. He felt that he had explained it quite succinctly – and unknown to him, he was awaiting further instructions. Strange how that suspicion from before had melted away, but it was easy for him to figure he was simply overreacting again. He had to really put a handle on that before he got himself into trouble.

[Craig]

Elia

The smile slid away from the Accepted's face, her weaves slowing to a halt as Murdock spoke. She literally had no idea that he was - had been - married. Or that he was a father, to four children! Light, she had misjudged how old he was, all because he was in a Dedicated's blacks. Not all Accepted or Dedicated were as young as she was. What was more heartbreaking in Elia's opinion was how his voice was so calm, like he had long ago recognised his lot, and was too tired to fight against it. Her heart lurched at that, a gaping wound of emptiness in her chest as she remembered too vividly what she had experienced in her Arches.

Schemes to manipulate the man were gone, a younger and more primal instinct beckoning itself to the fore. She pulled herself along the bed until her knee touched Murdock's thigh, then she leaned forward to hug him. It was an awkward embrace, due to their respective angles on the bed, and their relative heights. "I'm so sorry," she murmured into his arm, "I had no idea." Her thumb stroked against his back tenderly.

After a short time she pulled away, her smile wary, malachite eyes glistening with unformed tears. "I can't imagine what you've been put through." Her voice was quivering unsteadily. "But your children... You still have them Murdock. You could send them letters, or visit them once you have earned your cord. They haven't lost their father, unless you let yourself lose them." Elia wanted to hug him again, as if that could ease away his pain. "I'm sure they would have you back in an instant, with open arms."

[Chris]

Hugs were really not something Murdock was used to any more. He couldn't recall the last time he'd enjoyed one - probably in the Arches, before leaving his pregnant wife to die. Because the Arches were exclusively presented to us in order to torture us. The Black Tower never had them, they had that one redeeming feature going for them. Apart from the whole "Killing wives by accident" thing. So surprised was he by this show of affection that he sat there, letting the shorter woman hug him without moving his arms. He sat there and passively accepted it, even the stroking on his back. It wasn't Giselle, it wasn't even a substitute; a substitute would give him at least some satisfaction. As it was, he felt no real affection for the Accepted, and only appreciated the hug for the thought behind it, rather than the corporeal act himself.

She smiled at him and her eyes were bright where his own darker pair were steady, ready and generally nonplussed in the grand scheme of things. This wasn't news to him, he was quagmired in this since before he arrived at the Grey Tower. What was news to her, was old hat for him. "No, you can't imagine. What's the point in trying?" He didn't see the need for Elia to take on his issues, they were his after all and not hers. He wanted to tell her she had no flaming clue what happened with his children, that if she had the slightest idea of how it felt she really would be crying, not just making sentimental faces and patting his back. But he didn't. Murdock was still influenced by unknown weaves, his tongue operating in a different way still. The man that would have told her to mind her own flaming business was instead, frank in his thoughts on the matter. "I want to write to them. I did, when I arrived here because they thought I was still at the Black Tower. But I haven't heard anything."

He put his hands together, looking ahead at the wall. "Until I am an Asha'man, I can't go to them. When I do, I can explain in person, instead of in a letter. I hope they understand." But the Arches suggested that they probably wouldn't. I have to make sure that doesn't happen. If that was a possible future, then he didn't want any part of it, but the logical thinker in him knew that what happened, happened, and changing what he did could well result in the differences for years to come. They've already hurt me, he thought with a wry look at his leg, and I survived that. With a huff he looked back to the pretty little redhead - she was pretty after all, in a young and inaccessible way that was completely not Giselle - and offered a shrug of his slim shoulders. "It is nobody's business." He wasn't really sure what made him tell her, "and I would prefer to keep it that way. I am still married, and those memories are mine to keep me going when nothing else can."

[Craig]

Elia

Elia rubbed at her upper arms, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the heat in the room. Murdock seemed so walled off, even with her influence affecting his mood. She had no idea how much of the Dedicated's actions and words were being guided by her weaves, but how could he still be so hard? She itched at the dry skin under her dress, the discomfort temporarily distracting her from the problem that was Murdock.

What should I do now? The effects from earlier, in the Gardens, seemed to have held true. And from his reactions just now, letting her into his room, they were just as strong going forward. If she left now, maybe with a final touch of Compulsion to make this whole conversation a fuzzy memory, she would be free. Free from worry, free from potential blame, and Murdock nor anyone else could be any the wiser. Her secret - hers and Mirin Sedai's secret - would remain safe.

Elia bite down on her bottom lip, as other thoughts subsumed her need to ensure her safety. The words she had spoken earlier were still true. "I thought we should get to know one another." The Accepted was still lonely, still lacked for company and friends. Was Murdock the wisest choice? Probably not, and he certainly wasn't the most receptive man to her natural guile. But he was a fellow Healer; a fellow trainee. And it could be quite nice, knowing that nothing would happen between them, not having to stop her heart from leaping and lurching to fanciful hopes and dreams. Just another friend, like Sinead or Ravak.

She rose gracefully from the bed, and moved over towards the desk. She recognised some of the books: on the anatomy of the human body; on different sorts of ailments, their symptoms and causes; on how the Power could be used to Heal them. Definitely a Yellow. This was more in-depth than her own studies, but her interests firmly lay elsewhere. She glanced down at her Great Serpent ring, the ter'angreal that did nothing, but a ter'angreal never the less. The Indigo Ajah seemed a natural fit for the Shienaran.

Elia turned back towards Murdock, the two of them watching one another silently. She didn't know what to say that would rise him out from this... from the life he had built from himself. From the truths of his situation that made him who he was. Ravak was a hard man on the surface, but Murdock seemed to be hard all the way through to his core. How could she soften him? Or was it a question of trust?

The Mistress of Novices had spoken of a weave that could do just that, silently engender different feelings. The Blue sister had never directly spoken of how who she had tried these weaves against, or precisely how successful they were, but it had to be worth trying. If all else failed, Elia could still alter his memories, as she had before. A beautiful lattice of silver threads formed in the air, wrapping around themselves into a tube, then into a whip-like shape. She fed that flow of saidar into Murdock's head, a thought pulsing through her mind. "You can trust me, Murdock." She repeated the catechism over and over, unless the last of her flows were in him. "You can trust me, Murdock," she said out loud. Her smile was the barest flash of white teeth. Had it worked? She had to test it, clearly. "Is there anything I can do for you. As a friend?" It was a vague question, open to any manner of answers. But maybe, just maybe, he would reveal a small part of the inner man, or the man he had been before the Tower. Both Towers.

[Chris]

Elia rose from the bed and Murdock watched as she inspected the books on his desk. They were interesting enough reads, he needed to know how the human body operated in order to fully manipulate it after all. The Far Madding man was learning whatever he could, but at the core of it all he wasn't interested in necessarily helping people, but furthering his own skill and expertise. It was a very different sensation to the undying need some people seemed to have for curing all ailments. They were experiments, opportunities, not chances to get an ego boost from helping the ill. There was less Yellow in him than people first thought.

Could Murdock actually trust Elia? Strangely enough, the answer was yes. His slim shoulders slumped slightly at the thought, relaxing because what reason did he have not to trust her? Standing there now, she was kind enough to come and visit him, and she was more personable than her brother. Murdock didn't dislike the Master of Training, but he wasn't going to pretend he was fond of the man for getting him into trouble as a Soldier. Elia was not like that, not that he could tell anyway. Who knew the true person behind the mask? Why, he hardly knew Elia at all, but that trust... yeah, he could trust her. No problem.

She asked what she could do for him, and that was a good question to pose to a man used to doing his own thing for so long. Murdock was self sufficient, and relied on other people as little as possible. But this opportunity was a rare one, a brief glimpse into a less lonely existence, and the sight of it, however fleeting, was of interest in his current state. He sat back on his bed, a considering look on his face as he regarded the Accepted. She wanted to know more about him, but the truth of it was that there wasn't much else to see. Underneath his quiet exterior and his penchant for Healing, everything was dark and murky and simply waiting for life to pass him by. It wasn't living, only Saidin could make him feel truly alive any more. What would Giselle want? She would want him to get help from whatever source, no matter how unlikely it would seem. And Elia was a good sort, he could trust her.

"As a friend," the word was foreign on his tongue, "you could keep me company of an evening. It would be nice to study with someone else on occasion, and perhaps have a cup of tea. Does that sound good?" Murdock was a man of few interests, but quiet companionship as he read was not unwelcome. Elia might be able to distract him for a while from other things. As someone who had few friends even before the Tower, he wasn't sure what friends did with one another. He was a family man, a husband and father, not a friend. This was a lesson in and of itself. "What else do friends do together?"