The Night Silent (attn: Phineas & Matty)

[Jenn]

Zeen

Grey eyes remained fixed ahead of him, the tall Amadician's pace purposeful yet unhurried. He had circled the gardens twice, woven through hallways and down corridors at seeming random; it had taken him over an hour to maneuver himself into position so that his presence would not be immediately called into question. His face was recognizable, both from his time spent at the Infirmary and from that... incident... in the Warder Yards, but he did not pass anyone that seemed to know him. Zeen grimaced, the scar across his forehead twinging in response.

He had left the stifling black coat in his room, a simple cloak covering the shirt that he had only bothered to lace half way up. Zeen moved along the lesser traveled areas of the Tower, hoping that the setting sun would also serve as another kind of distraction. He had to get out, if only for a little while, to where whispers and rumours would not follow him. He had no intention of running away - Light where would he run to? His head throbbed. He felt edgy, jittery, slowly being smothered by the glances and the sidelong looks cast his way.

He had not meant to. It was an accident. Empty words, hollow comfort. Especially to those that had experienced the scale of destruction he had single-handedly wrought. He pushed those thoughts away.

As he approached the main entryway, he pulled the hood up over his head and cast up a fervent plea to the Light. He passed without incident, the line of his broad shoulders relaxing slightly as he stepped out onto the path that would lead him out. It took several more minutes before something else registered, skittering over the mess of scars between his shoulders. His head lifted, but he did not turn. No command came to stop, no prickling along his arms, no bindings of saidin coiling around him to haul him back to the cosseted neglected of the Grey Tower proper.

He took a deep breath, ducking into the first alcove along the path that he could find. It was not long before a figure passed, halting, turning about expectantly as if looking for him. Against his better judgment - Light but he was doing a great many things against that of late - Zeen allowed his arms to fold across his chest, drawing himself up to his full height. He did not bother to remove the hood, addressing the figure quietly.

“I do not much like being followed.”

[Chris]

The Wheel didn’t weave along a straight and obvious path, Murdock had learned this long ago. Rather than struggle against the ebb and flow of the hills and troughs, he went with them and let the jolts rock his back and his mind, accepting them for what they were. Sometimes, that meant Murdock could kid himself that everything was fine and dandy.

This evening was one such bump in the road to Asha’manhood. Was that the right term for it? Asha’mandom? Asha’manliness? Murdock didn’t think he would ever reach those dizzy heights, some nights, and tonight was one such night. If you were going to fail, you may as well fail with style, though his style simply consisted of “head into Hama Valon, eat some pie and forget the Grey Tower”. Murdock had low ambitions outside those he harboured for his daughters. Hama Valon itself was less appealing to him now because he was actually allowed out there now, but it was still a good way to forget the trials and tribulations of Healing. So off the Dedicated limped that fine evening, leaning on his walking stick as he went. He walked with the purpose of a man heading into the city, though with less determination and a slightly more relaxed pace – at least until he caught sight of a figure ahead, heading in the same direction.

Now normally Murdock would mind his own business. As a man who preferred his own company to that of the children of the Grey Tower, Murdock didn’t know all that many people, but few were those who were taller than the Far Madding man, and this man was broad to go with it. Murdock was slim in his tallness, and a strong wind might make the man blow away. This man though? Not the case. Murdock recognised him by sight from the Infirmary, though it was certainly none of his business what led the man to the Infirmary so often, but his scarred visage was easily memorable. Not that Murdock knew his name, only that he was a Soldier and if he was heading this way into the city without an escort... that meant he was technically a runaway. As someone who had done the same thing as a Soldier, Murdock could completely relate to this, and with a sigh and a grumble he upped his pace, tottering after the Soldier into Hama Valon proper.

Only somewhere along the way Murdock must have lost him, because one second he was in front of him and the next, well, he wasn’t. Murdock paused and looked around, a bemused grimace on his face as he did so, until the big man stepped out from the shadows of a nearby alcove and nearly made him have a flaming heart attack.

“Blood and ashes Soldier!” Murdock grumped, “if you don’t like being followed then perhaps you should work on moving with stealth.” He thumped his stick on the ground for emphasis, “don’t you think I have better things to do than go around chasing Soldiers who can’t follow the rules? Because I do, I have plenty of important things to be about. There’s a pie with my name on it, and I intend to eat it. So it looks like you have either a dinner date with a Dedicated, or you’re heading back to the Master of Soldiers because you’re out here unsupervised. Your call Soldier.”

[Jenn]

Zeen

Zeen felt his arms go slack, gradually lowering them back down to hang at his sides, too surprised to do anything but stare at the man in front of him as a veritable avalanche of words fell on top of the Soldier. Grey eyes warily watched the walking stick that the other man thudded against the ground every now and again, the broad man bracing himself for the moment when he would be struck with it. That moment never came, despite the very obvious irritation.

Pie. Was he truly being scolded over pie? And dinner. Baffled, all the Amadician could do was stand there, face completely blank. This... was not at all what he had been expecting. His hand crept up and rubbed at the back of his neck absently, his weight shifting from foot to foot, before he stilled, decision made.

His brows lowered, the frown that appeared on his face tugging at the scar across his forehead. The other man was vaguely familiar but Zeen could not recall from where. They were of a similar height and despite the otherwise completely baffling behaviour, it was a relief not to have to crane his neck down - or worse, stoop - in order to address the other man. A Dedicated. Whip cord thin. The Amadician tried not to think too much; a dull ache was already forming behind his eyes.

“It was fully my intent to move with as much stealth as I could.” That came out a touch defensively. “But if I had tried to hide my movements and my whereabouts anymore than I did, I would have been discovered. Before you did, that is,” he added as an afterthought.

Zeen's expression became perfectly neutral. “I have no wish to see the Master of Soldiers, so I will go with you on this... dinner date. I promise to keep it cheap.” He lifted a brow, wondering how far this Dedicated would let him push past the boundaries of respect. “You... look familiar.” Vaguely. “But I do not remember ever meeting you.” Another moment of hesitation, and he relented. He was already caught; what did it matter if the other man knew his name? “I am Zeen.”

[Jon]

Phineas

Phineas made his way out of the Grey Tower, nose pressed firmly in the one book he had convinced the librarians to lend him. They had been surprised to see him when he had come out from his alcove in the deeper recesses of the library. One, a Brown Sister, had threatened to send him to the Master of Soldiers for not keeping a proper sense of time. That was when Phineas had realized that he had indeed stayed past the proper time. With that realization came a gurgle from his stomach, and he wryly thought that tonight would be another night without anything to eat. He doubted his teachers would appreciate that. In the morning, he would be weak from not eating, and he had training before breakfast. He didn’t want to add injuries to insult and have the remnants of his visit to the Master of Soldiers to make the morning worse. Pausing in his reading, Phineas smiled at how he had been able to distract the librarian with his research. She had been duly interested in his thoughts, which was why she had let him check out the one book even though it was past time for Soldiers and Novices to be gone from the Library. The sun setting as Phineas stepped outside, taking a quick walk outside so that he could claim he had been outside at least once today, only confirmed that he had indeed missed dinner. He buried his nose and mind deeper into his book in an attempt to ignore his hunger, but the need was not going away, now that he knew it was there. “... I will go with you on this… dinner date. I promise to keep it cheap.” The words startled Phineas from his ruminations, and he looked up for the voice. He saw two men talking to each other. One he recognized as a Dedicated that he had seen around the Tower. Phineas thought he was called Murdock or could it have been Mortimer? The other man was hooded, but he had been the one to speak. Phineas knew the voice from the Soldier Quarters, and he started sweating at the sound of it. His mouth began to salivate while his heart sped up. Phineas had seen the owner of that voice only a few times, but his eyes couldn’t leave the man whenever he was around. Perhaps it was the rush of blood away from his brain coupled with the hunger and thought of dinner, but Phineas soon found himself approaching the two men—book closed with a marker to indicate where he had stopped his reading. He walked up to the two men and saw that his suspicions concerning the man who had spoken was the man Phineas found himself thinking about when he was alone in the bath house. The Soldier had just introduced himself as Zeen. “And I am Phineas,” he said with more confidence than he had thought possible. “I couldn’t help but overhear that you two were planning to grab some dinner,” he explained. “Dedicated, if you would take one Soldier with you into the city, would you mind taking another with you?” He bowed his head slightly in respect as he spoke. “I missed dinner and could use a good meal. The benefits of your and Zeen’s company would only make the night better.” He looked up from his bowed head, keeping his eyes fixed on the Dedicated. He could feel Zeen’s presence, however, and it was almost too much for his poor senses to handle. The nervous, tingling sensation was both frustrating and exciting. What had gotten into him!?

[Chris]

The Soldier might look pretty neutral, but Murdock was a little less stoic. Normally he was pretty calm but now, he just wanted to get on with his evening, whether there was a Soldier involved or not. He wanted to tell the boy to get to the point, but then that would make him sound like one of the Asha’man, and he wasn’t enough of a heel to go quite that far. So instead he let the Soldier explain himself, and then he even offered to foot the bill. Murdock was simply looking to purchase his own meal without complications, but if he was going to pay, well, Murdock wasn’t going to complain. A slight dip of his head at the introduction, and his response was much gentler, closer to his normally quiet tone. “I am Murdock,” he said. He wanted to make a joke about cheap dates and almost did, but in the end he kept those thoughts to himself behind his placid exterior.

This was a calm which only lasted as long as it took for another soldier to join them. By the Light, did nobody keep an eye on the way out of the Grey Tower grounds any more? If it was this easy to walk into Hama Valon, then maybe they needed to think about replacing their guards. “Bloody- Soldier, what are you even doing out here? It’s too dark to read! It’s not my fault you missed a meal...” Murdock made a noise of exasperation. The boy had a point, there was already one Soldier here so why not take another? Why, give it a few more heartbeats and he’d have enough Soldiers to form his own private guard at this rate. Light! “Fine, you can come too, but you’re buying the drinks.” If Zeen was going to pay for pie, Phineas could pay for an ale or two. It was a small price to pay for having his evening interrupted by trainees. “In any case, let’s be about, I’ve spent enough time talking. I wasn’t lying when I said there was pie at stake.” He turned and set off down the stone path with his stick, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the situation he found himself in.

He could have been a good Dedicated and reported them both for being out of the city unsupervised, but it wasn’t in Murdock’s nature to report any old Soldier to the Master of Soldiers without a good reason. Zeen he barely recognised as it was and Phineas he had no real recollection of, so there wasn’t anything personal driving him to get either of them punished. If they were paying their way and all he had to do was be near them, well, it was a small price to pay. “The things I do,” he muttered to himself. Giselle would shake her head and laugh, he could almost see her doing it out the corner of his eye. “It’s an inn called The Golden Battlements, if you’ve ever been there before.” He pointed ahead with his stick towards an Inn where the sign swung in the gentle wind, a couple of (surprise) battlements with grass between them. The sound of a lute plucking away within drifted out of the open windows, and inside it would be warm in spite of the cooler weather.

At the door to the Inn he poked his head around, deemed the half-full common room to be suitable, and said “find us a table then Soldiers, and get some drinks ordered.”

[Jenn]

Zeen

The tall Amadician followed behind Murdock into the Golden Battelements, his expression bemused. This was not at all how he had expected his night to go. Truthfully, he had not thought he would make it out past the main entryway, much less in the company of two others. Slate grey eyes glanced over at the fellow Soldier. Where the Dedicated was whip cord thin, Phineas was both broader and stockier than even Zeen himself. Again, there was a vague sense of recognition, but nothing overtly familiar.

He shrugged inwardly, easily clearing a path before him with well timed looks and nudging elbows when necessary. Phineas kept easy pace next to him. What the other man lacked in height, he made up easily for by simply being present. Zeen was able to claim a table towards what he guessed was the back of the common room, the lute player visible every so often as the crowd shifted and moved.

He lifted an arm to beckon at Murdock, then sank down gratefully into one of the chairs. Phineas took the second one, leaving the last one for the Dedicated. Three chairs. Zeen shook his head and flagged down a serving girl. Once he had placed the order for drinks, he finally shook himself free of the hood and cloak, letting it fall off his shoulders to drape against the back of his chair.

Grey eyes silently appraised the other man, the very corners of Zeen's mouth ticking upwards. The scar across his forehead twinged a little but he was able to ignore it. Murdock had not yet reached the table. The Amadician spoke quietly, his voice carrying no farther than a pace around him. “I believe it is your turn, Phineas. The Dedicated was scolding me most sternly over pie before you joined us and if he does not get it, I fear for our shins. I have no desire to be on the receiving end of that walking stick of his.”

[Jon]

Phin

Phineas looked up at the sign outside The Golden Battlements, and he thought he could make out some golden yellow defensive structures with green grass. What he didn’t understand was the almost flesh-colored mountains that rose on both side of the structures. He shook his head, not letting his mind dwell on the image for too long. Instead, he stepped through the door and nodded respectfully to the strongarm that guarded the entryway. He’d frequented inns in his time as an apprentice, going with the blacksmith whenever necessary, and his master had always explained how important it was to be nice to the inn’s muscle. If a fight broke out, having the man on their side would probably help. Of course, all of that had been before Phineas had donned his black cloak. Now, he could probably spit in someone’s eye, and they would leave him be if they couldn’t channel. He followed Zeen to the table, staying far enough behind him to watch the man walk but not too far away that anyone would think to step between them. Thus, his view was not inhibited in any way. Taking his seat at the table, Phineas nodded in time with the lutist’s music. It was happy tune, and Phineas appreciated the timbre. His attention was drawn back to his present companion when Zeen shook off his hood and cloak. The face that Phineas had spent many moments fantasizing about sat near him, the characteristic smile present upon it. As Zeen spoke, Phineas leaned with the pretense of needing to hear better over the music, but in reality he just wanted to be closer to the other Soldier. “Pie?” Phin asked before shrugging and calling over a serving girl. “Thank you for coming over here,” he said in a polite manner. It always paid to be nice to servers. “What kinds of pie can your cook make at any give time?” Phin asked in his most charming way. “She has plenty of blackberries and rhubarbs on hand, m’lord,” came the woman’s reply. “We’ll take one pie of each as quickly as she can, lass,” Phin said, pulling a copper out of his belt pouch and passing it to her. She took it with a slight curtsy before hurrying off to the kitchen. Turning back to the other man, he asked, “Do you think that will be enough?” He could feel his stomach grumbling. Perhaps, he should’ve ordered a meal for himself as well. If they would be drinking, it wouldn’t do to have his stomach empty. Thinking about the cost of two pies, however, he decided against it. His meager coins would only go so far.

[Chris]

The two Soldiers were able to get a table quickly enough, and by the time Murdock had limped his way through the room and managed to join them, drinks and pie had apparently already been ordered. Murdock was quite happy to go along with this, if they were going to pay then so be it. He had enough coin, frugal as he was, that he could treat them to drinks after the first.

He put his leg out straight and gave it a brief massage, a gesture he continued with as three ales were set down for them. Murdock's eyes never strayed from the woman's face, as pretty and buxom as she apparently was, taking his drink and having a sip with the briefest nod of thanks. "Once we have pie I will have everything I need this evening," he decided, and his low voice was content. It carried easily across the table.

Murdock was content to sit as he was, listening to the lute plucking away and drinking his ale. Small talk was not something he excelled at, and in truth he had little interest in mingling with the boys of the Grey Tower, but they did buy him things so he supposed he should make an effort to talk to them. A little. So after he had listened for a while he returned his dark eyed gaze to the two boys. He called them boys when either of them could have bested him in an arm wrestle with ease, but that's because they would always be boys in his mind, until they had dashing beards or were Asha'man. "So now we're here in Hama Valon. You were both leaving the Tower - what did you plan on doing out here, exactly? As long as it's not against the rules and I've had my pie, I'm not unwilling to facilitate whatever you might be of a mind to do." He had a Dedicated do the same for him as a Soldier, so it seemed only fair to pay it forwards.

When it came to the next round of drinks, Murdock was happy to fork out the coin. And it was just in time, because as their next ales arrived, so did the pies! Murdock sat up straighter as he could see the serving girl, pigtails bobbing as she carried a pie in each hand. He had to respect the serving folk for their skill, he could never carry a hot pie in each hand without dropping them...

... so when a burly man knocked into the girl and she tottered to the side and the two pies splatted on the ground, Murdock ought to have not been surprised. Or at least, he should have been less upset.

But his pies. His delicious, delightful pies. Gone.

There was a chorus of "ooooh!" and "waaaay!" from some of the men nearby, and the fellow responsible for the accident turned and at least had the grace to blush. "I'm real sorry," he bumbled, but the simple fact was that Murdock was out of pie. Perhaps the man could feel the frown directed his way as he looked up at the table of male channellers, and his ruddy face blanched. "I'll pay for more pie," he said quickly, as the serving girl was hastily clearing them up.

"Too bloody right," Murdock grumped to himself. All he wanted was a nice, hearty meat and potato pie. Was that too much to ask for???

[Jenn]

Zeen

Zeen winced in sympathy as the two pies landed in misshapen heaps on the floor, glad for the distraction that kept him from having to answer Murdock's question. He had no wish to speak about himself and yet he stayed where he was sitting, still beneath the icy blue eyes of his fellow Soldier and the deep brown of the Dedicated. He exchanged a long look with Phineas before glancing over to the thin man and was privately glad that he had not been responsible for the mishap.

The Amadician took another swallow of the golden ale; it was not the best he had ever had, but it was not the worst either. He shrugged inwardly, using the act of drinking as a ruse. It was his hope that the other Soldier would answer first, but Phineas seemed about as inclined to answer the Dedicated as he himself was. He set the mug back on the table. How long could the silence last, Zeen wondered, idly spinning the earthenware vessel around as he let the sounds and the noises of the common room wash over him.

Thankfully, Murdock did not seem overly concerned - yet - that their reasons were not forthcoming. The Dedicated's singular focus on pie seemed a little strange, but... if it kept the thin man's attention occupied enough from prying or, worse, demanding answers then Zeen hoped that Murdock remained fixated on crusty flakes and savory fillings for the rest of the night.

The reprieve did not last long. As promised, two more pies made it to their table with no further incident, no doubt the black-coats that Phineas and Murdock wore having something to do with the speed and courtesy with which the cooks and servers waited on them. Zeen sighed inwardly, glancing at the other two warily, before picking up his mug of ale again with an almost feral determination. He drained the entire thing, a dull fiery warmth spreading out from his stomach until his fingers prickled.

"I wanted out of the Tower so I could forget, for a little while at least." Slate grey eyes looked at the Dedicated before he reached for one of the pies. "And I intend to do just that."

[Jon]

Phineas

The jitters of being so close to a man of whom he’d had many fantasies were getting to Phineas. When the serving woman left with their order, he tried to play it cool. No answer came to his question, however, so the silence just lingered and made Phineas feel even more uncomfortable. Perhaps, he had done something to make Zeen frustrated with him. And on top of the anxiety, his hunger gnawed at him too—like a small rodent trying to eat away his stomach. The grumbling became more frequent as time passed, and Phineas was sure he’d faint from lack of food. The Dedicated returned, and Phineas thought about his question. “I was planning on returning to the barracks…” he began when he saw the other men’s eyes widen in surprise and he heard the squishy sound of fruit filling falling to the ground. There were exclamations from men and women alike, some of them less reputable than others. The serving woman who dropped the pies was extremely apologetic, and Phineas sighed in relief that the pies had fallen when Murdock reordered and asked for meat and potato. If the fruit pies had come, the Dedicated would not have been pleased. “Thank you so much for your trouble, lass,” Phin added after Murdock was finished ordering. He gave the woman a reassuring nod and tried to help her breathe a bit more. He doubted that anyone wanted to cross a man in a black coat, especially when he had a sword pin like the one Murdock wore. Zeen piped up after the exchange with the serving woman, and Phineas was caught up in the sound of his voice. The other Soldier did not speak long, but it was long enough for Phineas to find himself quickly headed towards a daydream concerning the man. That would not do well for him in this moment, so he stomped down his imagination within a heartbeat of its beginning to wander. “I was planning on missing a meal because I missed it when they served it in the kitchens,” Phineas admitted. “But I heard you two talking about going into the city, and I thought now was my chance not to miss that meal. I am sure you both can agree that missing a meal can be dreadful. Better to avoid such things.” He smiled ruefully and tried to give off this aura of confidence when he was really shaking in his boots. An awkward silence fell in the time it took for the serving woman to return with pie. The two fruit pies that Phineas had ordered had been replaced, and the cook had also supplied two pies filled to the brim with meat and potatoes. “Again, so sorry for the trouble,” she said. “It’s more than my ears are worth if someone else complains about my service.” That last statement sounded more like a thought spoken aloud than a statement made towards the three of them, so Phineas didn’t reply and let the woman leave them. The smell of the different pies was making his mouth water, and he felt the hungry rodent inside of him grow to an unusual size. He was certain that he would die if he did not eat, but he deferred to the Dedicated and waited for the man to serve himself.