When Life Gives You Novices (Jem)

[Chris]

Murdock Mather There was the rather amusing stereotype that the Brown Ajah was obsessed with books and Libraries, as if seeing mulched paper would make a Brown drool or go weak in the knees. Sadly this was not entirely unfounded, as there were some people who did get rather possessive over the books held in the Grey Tower. Personally Murdock didn't see what the fuss was about. Sure, they had a fairly vast array of tomes to call upon but it couldn't be anything like the White Tower's collection.

Nonetheless Murdock did like to make sure that when he was there for his own research, the place was handled with the respect it deserved. It was early in the morning, straight from breakfast actually, when the tall Far Maddinger slowly limped his way through the Library. His stick, a plain sleek brown thing, clicked on the floor in a gentle rhythm as Murdock took in the sight of the place. There were people who spent far too much time here, and Murdock was not one of them, but that didn't mean he was unable to appreciate the serenity of the place, especially at this time of the day. There were few people around, just some Novices and Soldiers doing the tidying, a couple of Browns at the front desk who gave Murdock a polite nod as he passed. He returned the gesture.

As far as Murdock's own studies went, there was a specific area of the Library in need of a good amount of research to build upon, and this was where he headed. It was at the point where he was going to need a sabbatical in order to research elsewhere, but was there anything else to learn about the limits of the human body that could be gleaned from a book? Yes, yes there was. He was curious about the reaction Elia's arm had to the weaves used on her. Most intriguing, something he was going to have to ask her about. There was no delicate way of asking how someone had their arm ruined for the rest of their life, but delicacy was not something Murdock was concerned about when it came to Elia.

Ahhh, the human body. One would think that with the Yellow Ajah, there would be more writings on it, but they were probably too busy Healing like headless chickens to write their discoveries. Murdock could have made a decent Yellow, if he lacked the brains to be curious about anything other than making people feel better. It was an aspiration, once. Now he just smirked a little at the idea of being a Yellow getting in the way of his research.

A smirk that abruptly vanished when he reached the shelves he was looking for, and there was a Novice right there, dusting. Sort of. Murdock wasn't sure that this method of dusting actually counted, but maybe she was new. Murdock paused in the aisle between the shelves, leaning on his stick as he took in the scene. His suit was clean and well presented on his tall, whip-thin frame, a brown shirt peeking out from the sleeves and collar of his coat. "What in the name of- those books are important, be careful with them!" He wasn't precious like most Browns, no, but he had a personal interest seeing as there were a couple there that he had bloody well written on the limits of the human body, what could be Healed and what could not. The effects of improper Healing. All interesting to Murdock of course, but not quite as informative as his private research behind the warded cupboard doors in his sleeping quarters.

[Jem]

Dusting wasn't a thing that came naturally to the youngest Amaro child. She was a tidy girl, her parents had seen to that, and not spoiled by any stretch of the imagination, but this sort of cleaning was what the House employed servants for. The feather duster in her hand seemed pretty self explanatory, and it was certainly easier to wield than either of the twin short swords she'd tried to learn. However, lighter and easier to swing meant that it was easier for her mind to drift rather than focusing on the task.

A casual sweep to one side sent a book crashing to the floor and Alisa jumped at the soft thump in the otherwise quiet library. She picked it up, and then moved it and the ones that had been next to and under it to a nearby table. She ran her feathers across the shelf, and then picked up the books up one by one and jammed the feathery little device at them, shaking it to dislodge nonexistent dust. She hoped this was how it was supposed to go, no one had really told her. Alisa was sure she'd seen servants dusting things like this, though, and she couldn't picture another use for the little feathery wand.

The voice that came cracking across the space startled another book from her hands; this one she almost caught again before it, too, thumped onto the floor. She scrambled to pick it up and set it on the table and then hastily dropped into a very precise, deep curtsy. That, at least, was something she knew how to do. "Yes, Asha'man," she said. She hadn't gotten a good enough look at him to be sure he was, but Mother and Papa had taught her to always assume someone outranked her until proven otherwise. It was a good strategy for a small, unassuming child. "I will be more cautious with," she glanced at the stack of books, knowing that her fumbling extended beyond them, but that this was the man's main concern. "Everything." She cautiously extended her duster and got back to work, one eye on the Asha'man in case he would stop her again.

[Chris]

A low, gruff sigh escaped the Brown at the little Novice and her assertion. Honestly, don't they have servants for this? Murdock was fortunate in that he had never had to worry about excessive dusting, given his leg - he simply performed other menial tasks instead. But as a lad in the Mather household, his mother had made sure to instil in him a tidy approach to living, and he was well acquainted with the fine art of dusting.

The Novice had the look of someone who would much rather be left to it, and that was all well and good, but she was actually standing where Murdock wished to be, and as much as he was tempted to simply move her, that was not really his way with Novices. He knew she would move, and maybe that was why he didn't? Instead the man watched her dust, dark eyes judging the movements of the duster until he felt he had to intervene. For the good of the books, and for her lest one of the most... Library-focussed Browns latch on to her cleaning methods.

"I would be careful with dropping so many books in here of all places. People can get very protective of their texts, especially the ones they have written." The Brown limped a step closer, holding a hand out for the duster. "If you please." The duster was handed over - and why wouldn't it be, he was an Asha'man - and the tall man brandished it in his left hand with a familiarity that took him by surprise. His days as a trainee were far behind him, but it was still possible to remind him of such times just by the feel of the handle, a handle which had no doubt been gripped by many a student in its time. He cleaned the shelves without moving the books, because he lacked the hands to do so, but he did make sure that any exposed areas were appropriately dusted off. "It's mostly in the wrist," he murmured as he worked. "There, just like that. Not too hard, but not so soft that nothing changes. So what brings you to this part of the Library, Novice? Did you happen to be here by chance, or do you take an interest in the ailments and limitations of the human body?"

It wasn't that Murdock was invested in this Novice and her answer, but Giselle would have been most displeased if he had been rude, and this was really the only way he knew how to interact with people. Keep it related to his studies and interests, that was all the man really knew any more. He tried to think about the Novices being the same age as his daughters in a bid to relate with them, but that was no real help whether he was alone or in company, so that comparison had to be scrapped.

[Jem]

Alisa watched, mortified, as the Asha'man took her feather duster and began to show her how to go about her work. It just felt...wrong. Like it was too far beneath his station and he shouldn't be doing it. Papa couldn't ever have dusted something, could he? Or Mother? Surely she must have, she'd mentioned the life of a White Tower trainee often enough. Still, it was hard to imagine either of them at so simple a task. She fought the urge to wrestle it out of the man's hand, clenching her own into tiny, loose fists to keep them controlled. His technique certainly seemed to be more effective than hers, so she tried to study it, certain she'd need to master it as part of her training.

"Thank you, Asha'man," her tone was polite, just the right amount of reverence, she thought, for a personal lesson in a menial task from someone that ranked high enough as to have no business doing tasks routinely left to the newest trainees. "I made my way down here from over there," she waved a hand at a pair of floor-to-ceiling shelves and a wide table. "I had delivered a message and Tischine Sedai asked me to clean those shelves. I wasn't certain if she meant just those, and she was gone before I was finished and could ask. It seemed a good idea to do everything, just in case." That seemed a waste of an interaction with a person who could influence her future, however, so she added, "But my Mother has a fair gift for Healing and it's possible I will as well. Perhaps I should have been perusing these books as I worked." She smiled a gentle, innocent smile. It wasn't an affectation, either, she was a gentle, innocent girl.

[Chris]

The Novice went through all the motions, said things just the right way, curtsied just right, to make even the most snippy Aes Sedai happy. Murdock did not tend to notice the Novices where he could help it - they got in his way, as this one was - but there was something disgustingly charming about her little story. It was exactly what a Novice was expected to do, but it was delivered without any conceit or complaint.

The idea of not comparing this girl to his daughters was difficult when she reminded him of Theresa.

The dusting brush was handed back to the Novice and Murdock made a small noise of amusement. "If Healing is where your interests lie," he said. "Your mother, is she Tower trained? What is your name, Novice?" Remembering his manners - Giselle really would balk if he didn't introduce himself - the Brown held a hand out for the girl. "Asha'man Murdock, Keeper of the Archives. If you have any questions, then I am skilled in the art of Healing. But I am here to get some books from the shelves, so while you are here you may as well make yourself useful for me instead of Tischine Sedai. I'll handle her if she has any questions." As if the woman would even notice what the Novice did, she just liked to hear the sound of her own voice.

"There is a small cart at the end of the aisle over there. If you could bring that over then I can use it to transport the texts safely." It was rather difficult to carry more than a couple of books with his leg, after all. Ahh, the sweet satisfaction of having women do things for him! Murdock was quite unused to the notion even with years as an Asha'man under his belt; Giselle had him well trained. "I was considering the Yellow Ajah," he said conversationally as he looked at the books before him. There were some he was going to need from the higher shelves, but that was what Saidin was for. "But the questions in need of answering could not be found at the bedside. Not for me. But you ought to visit the Infirmary and see if one of the Aes Sedai will teach you some Healing weaves. See if you do take after your mother..."

Once the cart was procured, Murdock spent much of his time perusing titles, some he was actively looking for and others were just nice to have an idea about. Whenever he wanted one he would tug it out from the shelf, hand it to the Novice, and continue looking at the spines.

[Jem]

"Not this Tower, sir," she said, her tone carefully neutral. How the people here felt about the other Towers was a question she'd not yet been able to answer. The man - Asha'man Murdock, she reminded herself, determined not to forget - actually extended his hand to her. The gesture was so unexpected from what little she knew of Asha'man and Aes Sedai and their interactions with trainees that it actually took her a few seconds to respond. "Alisa, Asha'man. Amaro." She took a breath and tried again. "Alisa Amaro, sir," she said, with a little self-depricating smile. Apparently her mouth was on the same page as her limbs, now, and took the excuse of assonance to just do whatever it pleased, instead of what she wanted.

The cart was easy enough to find and wheel over to him, she tried not to flinch at the squeak of one wheel she was certain someone or other in the Library would take offense to. She paid careful attention to the books he pulled from the shelves, so she'd be able to ask intelligent questions, while trying not to be obvious about spying. "What was it that couldn't be found at the bedside? Isn't Healing a practical art? What is the point of being all theory if that theory isn't applied?"

It took a moment for Alisa to realize not only had she failed to include the honorific, but worse, had implied that Murdock didn't put his knowledge to use. "That was a poorly worded question, Asha'man Murdock," she huffed, bobbing a slight curtsy. "Forgive me." She hoped he understood what she was actually asking and didn't simply take offense to her ill-chosen words.

[Chris]

Murdock took no offense to the Novice’s question, turning his head to give her a couple of raised eyebrows as she neglected his title but not going any further than that; Alisa corrected herself, and sounded appropriately chastised so he didn’t feel the need to press it any further. There were those who would, self-important people like Elia who loved their ranks and titles, but Murdock didn’t need a Novice’s name calling to give him an ego boost.

“It was not tactfully delivered but I wouldn’t call it poorly worded,” Murdock told the Novice simply, as he continued to rummage his shelves. “You’re quite right in that theory has to be applied, and that Healing is something you have to actually do. Writing about it can only get you so far. My research and the work that people perform in the Infirmary go hand in hand together. I can’t manufacture particular accidents in order to see what weaves are used and what work best, but one can surmise, collect data, and learn when these incidents do occur.

“For instance,” Murdock was holding onto a book he had interest in but he waved it around rather than giving it to the Novice, “the weaves needed to fix an irregularity with the heart are complex and intricate. I am bound by my oaths and my moral compass to not go out and intentionally cause this in a patient.” The lie rolled off Murdock’s tongue as he gave the talk he had given numerous times before, “but when they do occur, we can mark down the incident, see what weaves worked, and recommend a different sort of weave going forwards. We know that Earth weaves are quite useful when dealing with the heart – how do we improve our process to make our Healing even better? There is a pattern, a correlation between injuries around the body, but there are layers. It’s more complicated than working out the “best” weave. Besides which, there are limits to how much repair the human body can handle.”

The Brown realised he was still holding the book, and he passed it on to the Novice without commenting upon it. “When I have enough data, my hope is that people will apply the theory, people with more skill in Healing than I. I can follow the weaves that I have been learned, but there are Yellows who are almost artistic in their skill.”

That was quite enough about his own work. He was happy to share, but Murdock had little in common with a Novice who might not even make it to Accepted. No point in divulging too much. “Now I’ve answered your question, you can answer mine. What brings the daughter of an Aes Sedai of the White Tower, to the Grey?”