Chapter Text
Azune didn’t know how he’d gotten this lucky. Before everything had gone down with Davinos, Thjazi had promised to make sure he was taken care of, despite Azune's assertions he could look after himself. He hadn’t expected, though, for Thaisha Lloy, Druid of the Old Path and the mother of Thjazi’s niece and nephew, to show up as the Banner was dissolving and firmly tell Loza that Azune would be going to Dol-Makjar with her.
And now he was sat at Halandil Fang’s table between the man's son Alogar, who was about Azune's same age but a lot taller, and his youngest daughter, who was apparently six. Hero had spent most of the time so far standing on her chair, although her mom and dad and Thaisha had all repeatedly told her to sit down, and Azune kept one hand constantly out, ready to catch her if she started to fall.
The table in front of him was piled high with food. Not more than the family could eat before it went bad if kept in an icebox, but more than Azune thought he'd seen since he was no older than little Hero. And though there was probably more than usual, since they had a guest, it didn't seem like it could be particularly out of place, because Hero wasn't remarking on it, even as she sang about pretty much everything else. There was a towel-lined basket of the soft white rolls Azune had helped make, and a huge bowl of salad, and a stew of some kind, and skewers of roast potatoes, carrots, turnips, and other vegetables Azune couldn’t even recognize immediately.
He tried not to stare too eagerly as the bread basket was passed around first. Azune watched as Alogar took one of the rolls and put it on his plate before passing the basket to him, and he copied the other teen carefully. The bread was so soft that he left fingerprints on the thin crust, although he thought he might’ve done so even on a tough, stale roll, as his hand seemingly didn’t want to let go of it. At least not until after he’d had a bite. But digging into the food too fast would be rude, so he held back. Waited until a plate of cheese, butter, and thin slices of meat and vegetables was passed around in the opposite direction, took his example from Shadia as she tore her roll in two and slathered the butter on both sides. Shadia then did the same for the roll Hero had put on her plate.
Azune started to copy her when it was his turn, only for Alogar to lean over and unashamedly snag a slice of cheese and some kind of meat for his own sandwich, and then put one each on Azune’s roll while he was at it. Azune looked at him questioningly. Was that a tradition, to put something on another’s plate? He had thought Shadia was only doing it for Hero because she was little. It was a nice tradition, if so, even though the idea of formalizing ensuring someone else was fed made something twinge in his chest. But this wasn’t a ritual he’d ever seen Thjazi do, unless you counted his offering little bits of his own meal to Thimble whenever there weren’t flowers around for her to get nectar from, which was most of the time. Maybe this was a tradition reserved for family dinners, or important events? Or just something that couldn’t be done feasibly in a war camp.
“It’s good cheese,” Alogar explained with a shrug, before taking the plate to pass to Elodie on his other side around the corner of the table. None of the adults put anything on another person’s roll.
“Oh, okay.” Apparently not a tradition, then. Just Alogar clearly doing his best to be a good host. He'd been very welcoming so far. Everyone had. Whatever deal Thjazi made with his family in exchange for allowing him to stay must've been a good one.
Once everyone had a roll, Thaisha raised hers in the air. This was a tradition, obviously, and Azune watched her intently to be respectful, keeping a close eye on any indication of something he should do in response.
“Ancients and contemporaries who have brought us this food, thank you for your labor and care,” Thaisha said in a strong, clear voice. “Animals and plants we are to eat, thank your for the nourishment of your bodies. It will be returned in time, as all things are returned.”
Everyone ate of their rolls, and Azune hesitated only a moment before copying them and taking a bite. Alogar was right; it was good cheese, tangy and creamy. The meat was good too. It was clearly cured for long keeping, but was far less dry and tough than what Casimir and the others in the mess tent of the Torn Banner had access to.
Azune’s assumption was that everyone would finish the bread before being allowed to dig into the rest of the food, and Hero seemed content to do so, chewing fiercely at the roll with her sharp baby-tooth half-tusks. Shadia and Alogar, however, both set theirs down well before finishing them. Azune could hardly help but stare. He literally couldn’t remember the last time he’d put food down before finishing it. Half the time in the Rebellion he hadn’t even had a plate to put it down on if he’d wanted to. His hands cramped around the roll at the very thought of it. Would it be considered rude or greedy if he didn’t put it down, though? On the adults’ side of the table, they had all set theirs down too, and started dishing out other parts of the meal. Only Hero was still devouring hers. Was that a childish thing to do? Was it part of the blessing Thaisha had said over the bread that you weren't supposed to eat all of it? If it was, he could follow it for tonight, but the idea left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Here, kid, have some soup,” Hal said, leaning over the table to take Azune’s bowl and dish several ladlefuls into it before putting it back on his placemat. “Goes great with the bread.”
Hal served himself a bowl as well, before passing the ladle to Elodie. Azune hesitantly dipped his roll in the stew, pausing to make sure no one was going to yell at him for it first before continuing. Not that he thought they would. Alogar hadn’t even said anything when he’d taken seven of the nuts before, concealing them below his borrowed shirt until he got a chance to slip them into his bag. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed, though? Azune knew he was unusually observant for someone his age, or at least that’s what Thjazi and Kattigan had said. He had to be aware of what was going on around him and constantly on guard; with his size, he couldn’t give an enemy a chance to get too close unchallenged, or else they’d overpower him.
At the same time, though, Azune knew he had a tendency to miss things in social situations. He didn't think it was just due to his youth, because other young soldiers like Tunsk didn't seem to have the same problem when they joined up at sixteen. It hadn't been as much of a problem by the end of the Rebellion, as he got to know everyone in the Torn Banner well enough to recognize what a joke sounded like in their voices, even if he didn't get what it meant. When something apparently really funny went over his head, which was itself another idiom he hadn't gotten at first, Thimble would come stand on his shoulder and whisper an explanation to him.
He wished she was here now. Or better yet, Thjazi. Not that everyone wasn't being incredibly welcoming and generous to share their home and food with him, and he was more than grateful. If anything, it was too much. Thjazi had spoken often of his brother, said he was good people, and that seemed true enough, but he just felt so out of place. It wouldn’t be nearly so bad, he wouldn’t feel like he was imposing on the family so much if Thjazi was there with his arm around his shoulders, or Thimble hovering around.
Thankfully, no one spoke directly to him as he began to eat, bringing the now soup-soaked bread to his mouth. Elodie and Shadia were asking Thaisha about her most recent travels, and Thaisha was telling them all the tale of what she’d done since her last time in Dol-Makjar. She had told Azune the story already as they’d made camp the past few nights on the road, and therefore he could see the shape of how she talked around the remnants of the war, the brief meeting with the Torn Banner, the way she’d gone from meandering and slow travel to a straight shot here to Dol-Makjar once she’d picked him up. He didn’t chime in with any corrections, having learned long ago to go along with what Thjazi said even when it was a lie or a half-truth, and no one asked him for details or his perspective.
Before they’d arrived in the city, Thaisha had reminded him to be careful about what he said about the war and to whom, and he took it that she was applying the same caution to her own words now. Not that any of the family was unsafe to talk to, but they wouldn’t want to say anything that would raise awkward questions from the little one, Hero. She was too young to learn about those things.
The stew was thicker than Azune had been expecting, and what was more, it seemed to be that way because of the things in it, the vegetables and beans and even additional meat, rather than just being thickened with flour to make it more filling. The meat was the most surprising thing. When Azune had seen the meat for the rolls, he'd assumed that would be it for the meal and the rest would just be grains and vegetables, maybe a little more cheese or eggs if he was lucky. It was weird having so much protein available. There was never that much in the Rebellion, and it was usually horse, and usually prioritized for the nama and wolf-folk, who couldn't digest plant matter as well as orcs, dwarves, and humans. Having meat at all was a rarity, and having more than a slice or so was near unheard of.
“Good?” Hal asked suddenly with a nod towards Azune. “Not too spicy?”
Oh, the soup. “No sir,” he replied. “It’s good. I like it. Thank you.”
Halandil winced. Had Azune said something wrong. Was he supposed to compliment it more? He opened his mouth to do so, but Hal cut him off.
“Old family recipe,” he explained. “Although we have cut back on the spices in recent years. I think there were originally so many when it was harder to get fresh foods, so the stronger taste covered that up.” That made sense. Azune knew Casimir and the other cooks often did the same thing with the Torn Banner’s rations, although they had to be careful not to overdo it. No one wanted too spicy of food when everyone was sharing the same latrines.
“I like it now!” Hero declared. “Before, it was too spicy, but now I think it’s really good!”
No one else asked Azune a question for awhile, which was fine by him, because his mouth was full more often than not. He tried to not take too much of anything, basing his portion sizes off of Shadia, who was the closest in size to him and therefore probably had the most similar energy needs, but Hal and Alogar kept also putting more food on his plate, so he had to be careful to account for that and not take too much. He was feeling more full than he had in a long time, but not unpleasantly so except for the churning of guilt about taking more than he really needed, when dessert rolled around.
It was some kind of orange fruit he didn’t recognize, sliced in wide arcs like a melon. What little he could see of the rind looked rough and green. It smelled delicious, and he was glad for Alogar putting two slices on his plate as the bowl was passed around. He hadn’t been sure what was an appropriate amount, since he didn’t know if this would keep for later once it was cut, and therefore couldn’t divide the number of slices by the number of people and then subtract one to get an appropriate serving.
The fruit didn't taste any more familiar than it looked. It had a smooth texture like a peach, but wasn't nearly as sweet. Oddly, the primary sensation wasn’t so much a taste as a feeling of warmth and slight itch spreading from his mouth across his face.
“Are you supposed to be that color?” Hero asked suddenly, turning to him. Did she mean his birthmark? People often asked about it, but normally they phrase it as a question about whether he had something on his face, not about the color in general. Also, if they were going to say something, most folks would say it immediately upon meeting him, not several hours later. He’d lost track of how many people had exclaimed, “Shit, boy, I thought that was blood!” as soon as they saw him.
“Hero! You can’t ask people that!” Shadia scolded.
“No, it’s okay, sweetheart,” Elodie put in. “We have to ask questions to learn things, and sometimes those questions can come off a little rude, but in that case we just need to listen to an explanation of why and try to do better the next time.”
“Azune, you actually are really red,” Alogar whispered to Azune while Elodie and Thaisha spoke to young Hero about why that could be a sensitive question. “Not just your birthmark, I mean, your whole face has gone kind of pink. Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Azune agreed. His voice came out a little hoarse, and his throat was starting to hurt. “Just a little hot. It’s okay.”
“Okay. If you’re sure…”
Azune nodded, and Alogar seemed to accept that, turning back to his own food. Azune did as well. The fruit was still in his hand, starting to drip juice down his fingers. He leaned in and took another bite. There was an immediate burst of sweetness across his tongue, before it was replaced with a growing tingle across his mouth. The feeling built until the fruit was far spicier than the stew had been, and Azune felt his breathing quicken as his chest grew tight. Looking over at Alogar, though, and Shadia, neither of them seemed bothered. Even Hero seemed to be happily biting into a slice of the fruit wider across than her own face, despite the fact that she had said earlier she didn’t like when things were too hot.
“Is this one- supposed to be spicy?” he finally asked Alogar in a whisper after trying and failing to clear his throat.
“No? I mean, I think it's good with a little tajín, but the fruit itself isn't spicy. Why? Does it taste that way to you?”
Azune nodded and opened his mouth to explain, but only a halfway-stifled cough escaped. A second cough tore out of his chest a moment later, and Alogar's eyes widened. When all of the air had been forced from Azune’s lungs by the coughing and he tried to suck in a breath, it was accompanied by a wheeze. His silverware clattered loudly as he brought his arm down to brace himself on the table and his hand accidentally hit the edge of his plate.
“Dad!” Alogar shouted over the noise of conversation around the dinner table. Azune wanted to insist he was fine, that he was sorry for making trouble, but couldn't get the words out. Everything seemed to go quiet at the same time as everyone moved.
Azune couldn't make sense of who it was around him. Not when it wasn't Thimble and Teor amongst them, so distinctive he could recognize them anywhere, even across a field of battle and chaos. Not when his throat hurt so much he couldn't even swallow and he didn't know why.
Strong hands hauled him upright and swatted his back, as if he was choking. He didn't have the breath to explain that wasn't the problem. And maybe that was the problem. He was choking, but the cause wasn't something stuck in his throat. His lungs were starting to burn. Peace, what was happening?
The air suddenly crackled with the smell of a thunderstorm, and Azune’s chest heaved against his will like he’d just been struck by lightning. But he suddenly was breathing. Too fast, too shallow as panic drove him, but he was getting air in. He hadn’t realized until that moment that that had briefly stopped. Probably hadn’t realized because he couldn’t think, because he wasn’t getting any air in. His head swam and he didn’t know if it was in relief or fear or from whatever it as that had just happened.
“There you go,” a voice said, almost familiar but a little softer, a little more worn. Not Thjazi, his mind supplied, but Thjazi’s brother. Halandil. Hal, he’d asked to be called. His hands were on Azune’s shoulders, helping keep him in his chair while he felt like he might otherwise fall out of it. “Just breathe, you’re alright.”
“Follow along with me,” Thaisha instructed. Her voice was even controlled, calming, and her hands were on Azune’s forearms, thumbs tracing back and forth across his skin. She was half-crouched in front of him, and it was then Azune noticed his chair had been pulled out from the table to give them room.
Azune nodded, and tried to follow along as Thaisha breathed in and out deeply and exaggeratedly to guide him. His own breath moved shakily through his throat, but it moved. He felt the warmth in his face and neck start to cool, and with it the redness Alogar and Hero mentioned was hopefully decreasing.
“You feel okay now, kid?” Hal asked, when his breathing had steadied. “What happened? Did you choke on something?”
Azune paused before shaking his head. He didn’t want to lie, and he didn’t trust himself to try to speak. His throat still felt dry, though no longer painfully tight.
“I don’t think that’s what this was, if it could be fixed with Healing,” Thaisha pointed out. Her long fingers wrapped fully around Azune’s forearms where she had yet to let go of him. “Something caught in his throat would still be there, in that case.”
“He said it tasted spicy,” Alogar put in. Azune looked over to see that the other teen seemed to have been moved to the side out of his chair to make room for Hal and Thaisha. On his other side, Hero and Shadia had also shifted further back from the table, and the older sister was holding the younger about the shoulders. Shadia looked up and made eye contact with Azune for a moment. Her expression was inscrutable, and she quickly looked away.
“Azune, have you ever had runkna fruit before?” Thaisha asked. Azune thought hard to recall before shaking his head. He didn’t think he’d known the name of the fruit before now anyway, but that had to be what she was asking about. “In that case, I think you may be allergic to them.”
Azune watched as with this pronouncement, Elodie reached over from her side of the table and quickly took the plate of fruit away to the kitchen, as if she thought it was still dangerous to him just sitting there. She made a gesture as she did, and Hero pulled away from Shadia and scampered over to follow her.
“I… I didn’t know,” Azune said after a minute. “I’m sorry.”
“If you didn’t know, there’s no reason to apologize,” Thaisha said logically and reassuringly. “How are you feeling now?”
“I… a little weird,” he admitted after a pause. Only partially from the apparent allergic reaction. Mostly he was just overwhelmed, and embarrassed about that. He’d been in battle before; how was an apparently normal dinner with a family freaking him out so much? He wished he was with more people he knew, and then immediately felt bad about that wish, because everyone here was being so nice.
“Weird how? Are you in pain?” Hal asked.
“No.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He wasn’t hurting much more than the normal amount for him, and from the complaints Azune heard from older soldiers, and the others complaining about hearing them, Azune knew no one wanted to hear about anyone being just kind of achy. But Hal would want an explanation for the ways he felt ‘weird,’ so he added, “I’m just a little lightheaded.”
“Okay. Do you want to lie down?”
“I don’t… I don’t know,” Azune said. He didn’t know what answer Hal wanted here. Would it be less disruptive for him to stay at the table, or leave to go lay down somewhere?
“I don’t necessarily want you going off on your own at the moment,” Thaisha said. It was weird, how she talked to him even when she was clearly really just talking about him to Hal. Loza and Thjazi did that too, sometimes, when Azune got hurt and was in the infirmary tent, by asking the medics when he would be able to leave but also asking him how he was feeling. The healers always wanted Azune to stay longer than he thought he needed. “I've heard that with allergies, sometimes one round of healing isn’t enough and it can flare back up while the thing that caused the reaction is still in your system.”
“... does that mean I have to go throw up?” Azune asked, praying the answer was no. He hated throwing up. Every part of it was miserable, from the actual physical feeling to the guilt of having eaten just to waste it. And with how wonderful this meal had been, and how generous they’d been in sharing it with him, he really didn’t want it to go to waste.
“No. It just means I want to keep an eye on you for the next few hours, maybe through the night, to make sure that if you do react again someone will notice and we can take care of you,” Thaisha explained.
“How would you like to move to the couch for now?” Hal suggested gently. “That way you won’t be on your own, but you can lay down and we can give you a little more quiet.” It sounded like that's what Hal wanted Azune to do, so he nodded. And it did seem like a good solution. He could be out of the way of the family and the rest of their dinner without leaving the room or making them think he didn't want to be there.
Azune stood up on shaking legs and instantly found Hal holding his arm and Thaisha pushing herself out of her half-crouch to take his other side. Thankfully, Azune didn’t need to lean too heavily on either of them, as he was able to lock his knees to stop their trembling. It probably would have been okay if he had needed to lean on them. They were both much taller than him and clearly reasonably strong even if neither of them were soldiers. As long as he didn’t need to be carried. That would be far too much of an imposition. He would rather have crawled to the couch than that.
The cushions were firm and slightly worn under him as Hal helped him sit down, but it was comfortable enough. He was allowed to lay down by himself, both of the adults finally letting go of him, and he moved tenderly to recline against the arm of the couch. Thaisha brought a glass of water over and put it down on the floor where it would be easy for him to reach it.
“Please let us know if you feel worse again, or if you need anything,” Hal said, patting Azune’s shoulder gently. He and Thaisha returned to the table, gesturing for Shadia and Alogar to stop staring with a similar gesture to what Thjazi used with Azune. The two teens had been standing awkwardly, watching with a worried expression on their faces. Azune wanted to apologize for scaring them, but didn’t know whether that would be offensive by implying they were frightened. Alogar gave Azune a shaky smile before turning to the table.
“You kids need any more to eat?” Hal asked them. Shadia shook her head, but Alogar made a ‘so-so’ gesture.
“I’m still a little hungry but I’ll eat in the kitchen,” he said. “I don’t- I don’t want to eat the runkna fruit in here if it might make Azune react to it again.”
“That’s a good call,” Hal said, patting his shoulder. “Let’s clear the plates away first then, and we can come back for the rest of the food and dishes after you've eaten and the plates are washed.”
Azune thought staring would probably be rude, so he forced himself to close his eyes as the family began clearing the dishes. It was awkward sitting there as everyone else was working, but he didn’t think they’d let him if he offered to help. Every noise of a dish made him flinch when he couldn’t see it, but they were accompanied by a soft murmur of conversation, occasionally punctuated by a louder exclamation from Hero. She came out to play on the carpet in the living room once the dishes were cleared, but someone had clearly told her to play quietly. After another short while, Elodie and Thaisha returned to the table with tea to catch up further.
Normally Azune had a hard time falling asleep in a new place, and the last few days on the road with Thaisha had been fraught in that regard. The allergic reaction must've really taken a lot out of him, though, because he found himself nodding off listening to the two women's conversation.
He didn’t realize he’d fully fallen asleep until he woke up to quiet and a feeling of warmth. He didn't recognize the bed he was lying on, the specific creaking of an old home around him, or the lingering smells of food. Instead of jumping up, though, and potentially giving away the fact that he was awake if there was anyone around him, he forced himself to lay still with his eyes closed until he remembered where he was.
Thjazi had sent him to his brother's house, he recalled. He'd said they were good people, and that certainly was Azune's impression of them as well. Thaisha healed him when he had an allergic reaction to a new food, which was a terrifying concept he was trying not to think too hard about, and Hal had let him lay down on a couch to rest afterwards. He didn't remember having a blanket, though. Someone must've draped it over him without him waking. It was unusual for him not to stir into alertness at the slightest stimulation. A lot of this was unusual for him, though, including the lingering feeling of something stuck in his throat and the heaviness that seemed to affect each of his limbs.
It was only this exhaustion that stopped Azune from startling at the sound of voices and his own name. Alogar was saying something down by the foot of the couch, which was also near the door to his room.
“Azune’s going to be okay, right?
“Yeah, he is.” For a second, Azune thought that was Thjazi, only the tone was mellower, the voice a little deeper. Thjazi's older brother, Halandil. Hal. “Thaisha says it’s a good sign that he hasn’t reacted again, and we can let him sleep.”
“Okay. That's- good.” Alogar's voice cracked.
“Hey, hey, it's alright, c'mere,” Halandil soothed. Azune carefully cracked one eye open in time to see as he pulled his kid into a hug. Alogar was almost as tall as him, but not so tall that he couldn't pull him down far enough to press a fatherly kiss to the coils of his hair. Immediately Azune closed his eyes again, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping on a private moment. His eyes were also starting to kind of burn again, and his throat felt tight. Was Hal wrong and he was reacting to the fruit again, since it had to still be in his stomach? Somehow he didn't think so.
“You did good, son,” Hal went on. “I'm really proud of how you handled that. Not just alerting us when you noticed Azune having the reaction, but before that too. You did a great job making sure he got enough to eat, and it's not your fault he happened to be allergic to some of it.”
“It feels like my fault. If I hadn't pressured him to try everything-”
“He would still have the allergy. And then maybe the first time he tried runkna fruit, he wouldn't have been around a druid who could heal him. As scary as that was, it could have been a lot worse. At least now he knows about it and he's with people who care and has a safe place to recover.”
“I guess…”
“And I wouldn't call any of what you did peer pressure. The way I saw it, you did a very good job recognizing that Azune was hungrier than he let on and making sure he got enough to eat even when he was reluctant to take what he needed.”
Azune wondered if he was really that easy to read. Even if he was, though, Hal was missing his reasons for not taking more food. He had to make sure the younger kids ate first, since they were still growing, and it was polite to leave more for the family who was hosting him. Because much of the food was new to him, he couldn't risk taking too much and it being more filling than he expected and not being able to finish it. Some also had to be saved for later, so he'd eaten more of the parts of the meal that wouldn't keep well, like the salad and the bread once it was cut. Every part of what he'd done was rational. Until he'd had that fruit. It didn't make sense that eating food could kill someone.
“It… that wasn't hard to notice,” Alogar said. “He was even weirder about the snack earlier.”
“Yeah. Thaisha said that Thjazi and Thimble told her he might be a little unusual in how he approaches food. And unfortunately, I can’t imagine that him discovering a serious food allergy like this won’t affect that further. But that just means we’ll all have to keep an eye on him to make sure he’s eating, yeah? I know you can help with that.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. To bed with you, kid. You've had a long day.”
“Alright. ‘night, Dad.”
“Goodnight, Al. Oh, wait, before you go, can you grab me any pajamas you have that you've grown out of? I want to offer some sleep clothes to Azune if that would make him more comfortable.”
“Sure, yeah. Let me get some.” Footsteps and then a faint clacking of wooden drawers could be heard for a moment, then footsteps again. “Here.”
“Thanks. Goodnight again. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
There was a pause, then, before Azune heard as Halandil walked closer to him..
“Azune? Hey, are you awake, sweetheart?” Hal's voice came from just in front of the couch, and was slightly louder.
Azune decided the most diplomatic solution here was to pretend he’d just woken up, so Hal wouldn’t know he’d been eavesdropping but also he wouldn’t be ignoring him. He copied a noise he’d heard Thimble make on more than one occasion, a little hum that tilted upwards in pitch at the end like a question. Opening his eyes, he blinked to clear sleep out of them.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you if you were sleeping,” Halandil said as he crouched down in front of the couch even as Azune sat up. This wasn’t an appropriate moment to stand to attention, but it wasn’t polite to have a conversation laying down unless one was in the infirmary tent and the medics wouldn’t let you sit up. “How are you feeling?”
“M'okay,” Azune mumbled. His stomach kind of hurt, but he didn't feel like he was going to throw up, so it wasn't worth mentioning. “I'm sorry-”
“No, no need to apologize,” Hal cut him off. “We're all just glad you're alright.”
“I interrupted the meal.”
“That’s okay. Family meals are important, but so is your health and comfort, and we were almost done anyway. How about tomorrow, if you wake up in time, you can help me make a big lunch for everyone? We’ve gotten rid of all the runkna fruit in the house and cleaned the kitchen, so you won't have to worry about cross-contamination while you're here.”
“You- got rid of it? You shouldn't have- why would you throw out food just because I can't eat it?”
“We didn't throw it out; it was shared with the neighbors. So if you were worried about it going to waste, please don't be,” Hal reassured him. Okay, maybe he really was that good at reading people, or maybe Azune was very easy to interpret. That had been exactly what he was worried about. “And it's not just that you can't eat it. With an allergy this severe, it's dangerous for you to have it around. And I want nothing more than for this house to be a safe place for you, yeah?”
“I, um, okay,” Azune finally got out through still strangely numb lips. He wanted to ask ‘why?’ instead. Why was that a priority for him? He must’ve made a deal with Thjazi about taking care of Azune, but other parts of his life were still probably more important. Something stopped him from voicing this aloud, though. It told him that question would make Hal sad.
“Okay. Speaking of which, we’ve got a guest room prepared upstairs if you’d like, and I’ve got some pajamas here if you want to get more comfortable.”
“I, um…”
“If you’re already cozy on the couch, though, you’re also welcome to stay here,” Hal added. “Hero might wake you up early in the morning, but you can ask her to leave you alone or be quiet if you want to sleep more.”
Azune immediately nodded at this offer. It would be easier for Hal for him to stay here, since then they wouldn’t need to remake the bed in the guest room or get other sheets or clothes dirty. He didn’t mind being woken up early in the morning, was used to it even it wasn’t usually because of a six year old. Maybe he could be helpful to the adults too that way, keeping Hero entertained so they could sleep in.
“Okay. I’ll leave these pajamas with you, then. My room is just up the stairs and to the right if you need anything, and you’re welcome to make yourself a midnight snack or early breakfast or anything if you didn’t get enough to eat at dinner. The only thing I would ask is that if there are any other foods, fruits especially, that are unfamiliar to you, please wait until morning when one of us is around to try them. Since you're allergic to one thing, you might be allergic to other foods as well."
Azune couldn't suppress a shudder at the prospect. Hal clearly noticed, his low-light vision better than the human’s.
“That’s a big thing to think about, isn’t it?” Hal agreed. “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
“Not… not right now, I think,” Azune said. The fear that food of all things could suddenly turn on him was too much to put words to right now, and he didn’t want to burden Halandil, who had to be tired and want to go to bed himself, with his stammering explanation and too-big feelings. “But, but thank you, that’s very nice.”
“Of course, any time you want. I’ll let you get some more rest now. Again, you’re welcome to grab anything you need in the house, but Thaisha or I are also more than happy to help you find or reach anything. My room is the one just to the right of the top of the stairs, and hers is down the hall with the green door.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Azune. It’s good to have you here and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight."
“Goodnight.”
Azune almost flinched away, then, when Hal leaned in, but managed not to. He was rewarded by the feeling of a large hand wrapping tenderly around the back of his head and a familial kiss pressed into his hair. Like Halandil had done with Alogar, and like Thjazi every once in a while did for Azune. The very slight bump of tusks on his scalp was almost identical.
Hal took his leave then, and Azune lay back down. Sleep was a longer time coming now than it had been when he could listen to Elodie and Thaisha talking and dishes being done in the kitchen and Hero playing quietly with her toy horses and carriages on the carpet just in front of him. It was so different and yet similar to the constant noise of the Torn Banner. He wasn’t used to a house this busy and yet quiet. He wasn’t used to being in a house at all. It was too nice for him, as was the couch he lay on and the soft blanket that someone, he didn’t even know who, had draped across him with such care. Eventually, though, he did fall back asleep, with a lump in his throat that had nothing to do with his allergy.