The Grey Tower

This was all hitting a little too close to home for Murdock’s liking. He was well aware of what could be said about his disposition and the way he handled himself – the very nature of the block he had on seizing Saidin was testament to his attachment to a now dead woman, and a sign that he was already afflicted with problems. There was such a thing as loving someone to death… your own death. Murdock knew how lovebirds often died within a small time bracket, he’d read those studies, but that didn’t mean he knew what to do so he simply… ignored it. Moved on. Got on with it.

The bond between a male channeller and his wife was not the same as the typical Aes Sedai/Warder bond, that was something he had come to learn. But losing that connection was the worst thing. He felt her life force slip away, and there was no undoing or forgetting that.

He didn’t particularly care for Mirin Sedai’s observations on him, whether they were true or not. But if pain was how people grew, then why did he feel so stunted? He ought to have let go by now but maybe he was one of those people Mirin Sedai talked about, the ones who were sucked dry because of their loss. Murdock’s hand went to grip his wedding band.

There was no answer Mirin would be satisfied with in Murdock’s repertoire. He knew what she wanted to hear, what would make her nod her head in that knowing way Aes Sedai had, but Murdock couldn’t bring himself to say anything outside of the facts. He stood at her hand wave towards Misanne, glad for the excuse to leave now. “I was married for over fifteen years, Mirin Sedai. I bonded my wife at the Black Tower, as many did, to keep an eye on her, make sure she was well. And she was, until the moment she died. I felt it happen.” Leaning on his stick, he made his way out of the room to go and greet Misanne.

The woman was an awkward combination of the early blooming signs of pregnancy warring with the sudden loss a miscarriage could cause. A rosy complexion and a haunted expression made for an odd look, and Murdock knew who Misanne was on this alone before she was pointed out to him.

“Misanne? Light shine on you,” he bowed his head to her. “I am Dedicated Murdock and I will be tending to you today. Right this way.” He gestured down the corridor and the woman gathered her deep green cloak around her shoulders before she walked with him to one of the offices. “Would you be happy for me to take care of you, or would you prefer a woman?” The shrug he received in return said she cared little either way, so Murdock took her to the private room where he could see to her in privacy. “This is Mirin Sedai, who will be observing today.”

Misanne bowed her head a little at the Blue but again, didn’t seem all that interested in who saw to her needs.

“If you would take a seat… can I get you any water? A snack?” More head shaking. Light, what did the Yellows enjoy about insufferable patients such as this? Murdock kept his patience though, through necessity. “I’m going to Delve you to check you are well. This might feel a little strange.” Murdock took a seat next to Misanne so he could put a hand to her head and Delve. In his usual seat, just next to Mirin Sedai, he imagined Giselle there watching him. Giselle as she had been in the throes of her pregnancy with Grace, a little flushed in the cheeks and always cupping her stomach as if it would fall off without her keeping a close eye on it. Only with her there could he Delve.

Misanne appeared to be in a stable condition with hardly a Heal needed, and Murdock nodded his head at the assessment. It would take a bit longer for her body to realise it was no longer pregnant, apart from what Murdock presumed to be a black hole of emptiness he couldn’t understand personally. But otherwise she was physically fine. He did perform a brief Healing weave to repair some strain and stress on her muscles, the sort that came from… wracking sobs, he supposed, and cramps. Saidin was released, though Giselle remained a while longer in his thoughts. She always did look beautiful, even when she was demanding apples to soothe her cravings. They had to be green apples though, not red. And not the ones which were a little green and a little red…

Misanne was starting to give him an inquisitive look, so Murdock cleared his throat. “Misanne, is there anything we can help you with at all? Would you like to talk about what happened? In all confidentiality of course.”

“What would you know about what I’ve been through?” Misanne asked in a low voice, strangely similar to what the teenage brat had said about his leg. “There is nothing you can do for me, Dedicated. Let me be on my way.”

“Do not be so absurd, do you think you’re the only person who has ever lost something close to them?” Murdock asked in a firm tone, not meaning to but, well, Giselle was sitting right there staring at him and he couldn’t ignore that. “Loss is universal, Misanne. It creeps into the lives of any man, woman or child. No, I have never lost a child and I hope in the Light that my daughters live long enough to see me die, but I know how it feels to lose someone close to you. I know the loss of never seeing someone you love again and that isn’t going to subside any time soon Misanne, so you may as well face up to it now and learn to live with it. Otherwise you’ll never be happy.”

He gave the woman a look as firm as his tone, his eyes hard, but Misanne’s expression said she was thinking about what he had said to her. Maybe his own loss echoed in some way with her own and she heard it eventually, because she opened her mouth to say something and instead leaned against his shoulder, eyes closed. Murdock felt her small form shudder with quiet sobs and, not really sure what else to do at this point, he put his arm around her.

Giselle nodded her head at him, and Murdock smiled back.

Mirin slipped quietly out of the room, leaving Murdock to comfort the woman. He was rough around the edges, but was doing well. She had almost stopped him when he had called the woman "absurd," but Misanne had responded unexpectedly, finally giving in to her tears.

Perhaps that had been what she needed.

The Aes Sedai leaned against the wall, seeing in her mind's eye the way Murdock had gripped at his wedding band. He had dared to love; and then lost. A brave man, to have placed his heart at such risk.

What did she know of grief? Mirin had spent her young life running away from grief. Over the years, she had isolated herself. She cared for her patients, but did not allow herself to shed tears. She watched over her students, but kept a firm distance. She did this because she was afraid... afraid of the pain of loss.

Better to be afraid than in pain, she thought. Better to be alone than to hurt the ones I love. She shrugged her shoulders and turned away to flip open her folder again.

And so it went. They spent the morning taking turns, speaking, Delving, and Healing. Mirin began to notice that when Murdock entered a room, he seemed to always pick an empty corner to glance at. And she could have sworn that she saw his lips move, as though speaking to an invisible person. But she said nothing. Let the man have his idiosyncrasies, she thought. Don't we all have our haunts?

Their list slowly dwindled. Noon was approaching when Mirin checked off the last name.

"Well, Murdock," she said. "Very well done. It's off to lunch, and then I'm sure that you have other classes to tend to. What did you think? Did you enjoy this? Be honest."

The rest of the morning continued in a slow blur, or a speeding crawl. Sometimes it felt as if he had been stuck in these four blasted walls for an Age, and other times it seemed as if the sun was leaping up into the sky. The Tower came to life as people who didn't have to be up at dawn awoke, and the Infirmary saw more of its usual bustle. There was something to appreciate about the quiet of the early break of dawn in here, but it wasn't something Murdock wished to be all too familiar with.

Some of these people needed Healing as part of their aftercare, and Murdock was able to Heal them with no issue. That was the easy part. The difficult bit was the listening to these people and their various problems. "Trollocs took my son," "I woke up and my house was on fire," "Whitecloaks invaded our village and I hit my head", and so on. People who had lost something, that's what they all were. These Infirmary patients were here because there was something they no longer had, be it a loved one or something material like a house or even a simple painting. Their eyes told the story Murdock didn't want to hear, and he was glad for the respite that came with listening to Mirin Sedai deal with her share of patients. It was a little curious to him that a Blue would perform a Yellow's business, but a Blue's agenda was his or her own and he certainly wasn't going to ask what she did this for, why she came here to speak to those who needed it.

At the end of it all when Mirin Sedai asked Murdock what he thought (and even offered a bit of praise), the tall Dedicated paused before giving his answer. He knew what he was going to say and she did ask for honesty, but admitting a disinclination towards something meant it could be used against you in the future. Ah well, the Wheel weaved, and it was in the patient's best interests to have more suitable nurses. The man looked around to ensure they were sort of private given their location, before offering a response. "It went better than I expected, but I don't think the Yellow Ajah is for me. I can Heal well enough and for some reason people thought I could help them with their problems, but honestly? I can't." The man shrugged, meeting the short woman's eyes. "A lot of these people reminded me of myself, and that doesn't sit well with me."

He knew he was supposed to learn something from this, to get a great deal of help from assisting those who had suffered in similar ways to himself. But their pain wasn't his, and all Murdock could do was attempt to feel a sense of kinship with them. But in drawing closer he only felt as if he was pressing against a glass window, looking outside at these other people who meant nothing to him, and it made him feel a renewed sense of isolation.

"I'd rather not come back here and have these talks again, Mirin Sedai." That was the honest truth. No matter what Giselle might have thought about him helping people, he had to help himself first, find a way out of that room he had found himself in, before he was in a position to do that. She would understand, Murdock was sure of it.

Mirin smiled. "A long time ago, I thought that I would join the Yellow. The work is noble and satisfying. But then I realized that I wanted to do more than that," she said. She watched him for a moment, and then turned away to file away her folder.

"Anyways, I think you helped more than you think. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if some of these patients came back asking for you. Most times, just listening to a person is enough. Most of us underestimate the value of our attention."

Then, her lips thinned and she looked at him sternly. "It is curious that you feel uneasy that these people remind you of yourself. It would be good to remember that you are just a man, Murdock. Your blood is as red as theirs, and their problems are no less than yours."

She stepped away, feeling her belly grumble. Yes, it was time for lunch. "It has been very nice working with you," she said. "If you ever need a recommendation, please feel free to ask. Good luck in your studies, Murdock. Light willing, we'll work together again."