Fanfic:Stretching My Patience
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Murdock worked at the shield with a look of concentration on his face. Spirit weaves often came easier to the man than the other elements, none of which particularly stood out outside of the generic "men are usually better with Earth and Fire" aspect. Spirit was a key component to Healing and when it transpired that shielding another channeller involved Spirit exclusively, the Far Madding man was rather pleased.
Of course, without someone to practice the weave on, he couldn't be entirely sure that he was doing it right. It was still good for Murdock to give it a try though, and it was a little safer than the alternative weaves he was thinking about practicing. With a need to display a skill in something other than Healing, and no real desire to make his experiences with Rending too well known, Murdock settled for something more manageable and enjoyable than making things explode violently. For a man with no reservations about blood or Rending (come what may), he had a real distaste for the barbaric practices which harkened to Black Tower routes.
Giselle sat nearby of course, a constant reminder to Murdock that he couldn't channel without her. That he was nothing without her. "If I could cast a shield on you," he muttered to her form, only visible to his mind's eye, "and keep you safe." But that would be a ward, and it was a little late for keeping a dead woman safe. Giselle simply shook her head at him, long blonde curls rustling in the wind. Murdock smiled thinly her way before going back to his weaves.
He had his back firmly planted against a tree, his aching leg stretched out before him. As the bell for High rang he knew it was time to head to his next lesson, but as he grasped for his walking stick he realised it wasn't there. What in the.... the dark eyed man looked up from the ground next to him, frowning. It simply wasn't there.
How very odd. And inconvenient. Murdock had to use the tree trunk to ease himself up and onto his feet again, and he limped carefully towards the Grey Tower proper. It was a little slow, and rather painful to do so, and he earned some puzzled looks from a few of the trainees.
"Dedicated, here, you might need this."
One of the cooks peered up at Murdock from his side, holding out a walking stick. His walking stick.
"Where did you find this?" he asked, taking it gratefully. By the Light, I shouldn't be this happy to have a stick to help me walk. I sound like my da's da.
"Poking out of some bushes," the cook said with a shrug, "didn't think anything of it until I saw you walking."
"I see." Murdock smiled briefly at the woman, "thank you for this. I'll keep a closer eye on it in future."
And Murdock did. He wasn't sure if someone had moved it on purpose, or if it simply ended up there, but Murdock wasn't taking any chances. He needed his stick, and he did not need these distractions. His shield wasn't working like it should, the weaves weren't quite coming together and his lessons said that this was not likely to improve any time soon. Just because he was good with Spirit, didn't mean that he would be particularly talented, and there was no point in kidding himself.
Oh well. Murdock left the most recent lesson resolving that he was good in other areas, and that perhaps he could focus on basic wards for a while?
But first, some Rending. In Hama Valon. Reminding himself of what he could truly accomplish with Saidin would be life affirming, always a beautiful contrast to draining and destroying the animals around him. A small smile on his face at the thought, Murdock made his way through the gardens towards the gates which would lead him into Hama Valon.
"Hey Limpy!" came a voice from behind. Murdock paused in his walking, a shudder running through his bones. He didn't turn around.
"I'm busy," he said as he carried on his way, his stick thumping against the stone path. But the trainee behind him was quick, and soon the stout Dedicated with the sandy hair and narrow, amused eyes had caught up with him. Dunseth was a charismatic man, Murdock couldn't deny that, and he seemed to have numerous friends. But Murdock had seen the man trying to learn to Cloud Dance, and he had also seen the time he beat on that Soldier with a knack for it. Once there was a bee in the fellow's bonnet, it was often best to let him sting away until he left. But Murdock wasn't inclined to do that.
"Why the long face, Limpy? Afraid I'll ask why you didn't want to pair with me for shield practice?"
"No," Murdock replied shortly as he resumed walking. "I have no interest in you or your words. Now leave me be."
"Going for a walk?" Dunseth kept pace easily, curse his bad leg. "I think I'll come along as well, it's a nice afternoon isn't it?" Indeed, the sun was bright and the air was crisp and clean, but it would have been much easier to enjoy without the other Dedicated.
"I would much prefer you didn't." Murdock pulled a face, he couldn't help it. "I'm... meeting someone."
"Uh huh." Dunseth was sceptical, and rightly so given Murdock's friend count could not be divided by anything without breaking mathematics as they understood it. So he followed along, and Murdock could say little to stop him. He hoped that Dunseth would grow bored and leave him, but by the time he made it out to the quiet gardens of Hama Valon itself, the man was still stubbornly by his side, making the most inane small talk. It wasn't empty small talk either, it was the passive aggressive sort which attempted to get a reaction from Murdock. He gave none, caring little for a fool's words. Though as he reached his favourite tree stump to sit on, he did so wish that the man would leave him be.
"Nice place," Dunseth observed as he looked around.
"It would be nicer if you left," Murdock pointed out, sighing as he stretched his leg out.
"So how did you do that?" Dunseth asked, nodding to his long limb.
"It was..." Murdock snorted, "we aren't allowed to talk about it."
"The Arches?" Dunseth deduced. "That's a bit boring."
"The Arches are anything but boring. But if that's how you deal with them," Murdock shrugged.
"Says you." Dunseth leaned against a nearby tree, arms folded as he looked Murdock over. "Sitting here and sulking like a child who lost his favourite toy."
Murdock groaned, a low noise in his throat. "Why are you here? What do you want from me, Dunseth?"
"I want a reaction!" the Dedicated said. "I take your bloody stick, and you hardly flinch. I call you names and you don't care two figs. You think you're so much better than everyone else, don't you?"
Only sometimes, such as now, Murdock thought to himself. "Go back to the Tower, I don't want to talk to you."
"I'm not going anywhere," Dunseth said. "You didn't want to pair with me earlier, so I think we should have a lesson together now." The man straightened up, and Murdock blinked at the intense look on the man's square face. That sudden look of calm said he was seizing Saidin, and before Murdock could think of Giselle and grasp the source himself, a shield was put in place. He knew how it felt by now, but he didn't bloody like it. Not in this setting.
"What in the- this isn't funny," Murdock growled as he imagined Giselle, punching the man square in the nose. Yeah, he deserved that at least. "Remove the shield, Dunseth!"
"Nah, this is kind of fun, seeing you squirm." Dunseth smirked.
Murdock reached for his stick to stand, but Dunseth was quicker and he pulled it away. "Fine. I'll walk without it. I'm sure Asha'man Soti will love to hear about this." Who did Dunseth think he was, acting like this? Light, he didn't realise the Dedicated was quite so abrasive. Irritation made him ignore his leg as he stood, and he began to hobble slowly back in the direction of the Grey Tower.
"I'm not done with you yet," Dunseth said. Murdock yelped in a most undignified way as he was hauled back to his seat with weaves of Air.
"Get off me!" he growled. "You go too far Dunseth!" He glowered at the man as he struggled against the shield which had been placed on him. Dunseth was pretty strong in Saidin, as far as Murdock could tell, but he could tell that the shield was not perfect. Enough time and perhaps he could break through one of the kinks he detected? With support from Giselle of course, who was stood there looking at Dunseth with equal venom.
"That's more like it," Dunseth said, grinning at him. "Kind of easy actually. I didn't even have to ask about the dead wife."
"What-" his voice lowered to a whisper as Murdock felt the air escaping his lungs. That was none of his business! It was nobody's business but his own, and even the thought of this scum mentioning his wife was too much to bear. Giselle was too good for the likes of this man. But his mind had other ideas. He saw Dunseth taking Giselle by the hand and leading her away, trailing her as he had him, sitting her down with Air and then- and then-
Murdock broke through the shield, and drew upon as much of Saidin as he could safely handle. It wasn't a great deal – Murdock was weaker than a fair few Soldiers, and did not stand out as a Dedicated. But what he had would have to be enough, as he threw the shield together with intricate weaves of Spirit and settled it over the surprised, off-guard Dunseth. That shield shouldn't have landed, it was a lucky happenstance, but Murdock was happy with that. He held onto it for the time being, considering how to tie it off and teach the man a lesson for his inappropriate ways.
"You bastard," Dunseth spat. Murdock felt him batter against the shield. They both did. Murdock was weaker in the power and it ought to have strained, but strangely enough, instead of that it simply... stretched. The shield took the pressure and bent backwards, seemingly untroubled about the force Dunseth applied to it. Dunseth's eyes widened with confusion and then anger, whilst a predatory grin crossed Murdock's face.
"Isn't this a twist of events?" Murdock asked. "Now then..." he used Air to grab his stick back, and he got to his feet feeling much better about the world he was in. He would feel even better when this brat was taught a lesson. Dunseth needed a firm hand to remind him not to say the wrong thing to the wrong person.
"Let me go," Dunseth demanded, stepping forwards. He wasn't as tall as Murdock but he was broad, and fairly strong. Murdock wasn't worried though.
"I'm not done with you yet," Murdock echoed his words and pushed him back against the tree with Air. He limped forwards, close enough to prod the man's chest with his stick. "What do you have to say for yourself, being so rude to me and shielding me against my will?" He held the man in place with Air around his waist.
"I said, let me go!" Dunseth shouted, and Murdock tsked.
"No. You apologise because you are very, very sorry for mistreating an unhappy Dedicated." Murdock prodded him harder with the stick, "I was going to let you go and have someone unravel the shield, but you're making it very difficult to want to let you leave."
"You're going to let me out," Dunseth said. "I'll make you a deal. You let me go, and I won't smash your flaming head in."
"You think that will work? Oh, Dunseth. How little you know about pain." Murdock leaned in and rested a hand on his cheek. "Now tell me... have you ever heard of Rending?"
"You've come a long way with your shielding, Dedicated." The Asha'man teaching the lesson was a short, redhaired man with a smile slightly more ready than his temper. "I'm impressed at how you can hold a fellow – looks like you have a bit of a knack for it."
Murdock bowed his head in acknowledgement of his praise. "Thank you sir, but I think I prefer Healing," he said with a modest chuckle. "Still, it is good to know how to shield someone. I know it's not for everyone." His dark eyes moved to the side of the room, and the Asha'man's followed. It was the blank space where Dunseth sat, before.
