Work Text:
Thaisha sat at Hal’s kitchen as the dawn light began to creep over the mountains, listening to the coffee pot burble on the stove. The one downside of this house, she’d always thought, was that the kitchen was too small for more than two, maybe three people at time and got stuffy quickly on hot days or when there was a fire in the stove. Hence why all family meals were had out in the dining room, and Hal’s propensity for taking his food up to his study instead if he was eating alone, even though it resulted in the dishes piling up when he got distracted by his work and forgot to bring them down. For now, though, there was a nice cool breeze slipping in through the open window, and the space was just perfect for her to sit alone and listen to the very first pigeons and magpies beginning to wake and speak to one another just outside. Their soft coos and louder squawks were nothing like the dawn chorus in forests beyond the city, which in spring could be loud enough to wake all but the deepest sleepers. But Thaisha didn’t mind the relative quiet here, because it meant her children and lover could sleep in longer. For now, she had the house to herself.
Or so she thought, until she heard quiet footsteps and felt the shake of someone approaching through the floor where her feet were grounded. She turned her head to the door to see Azune enter.
If the young man Hal had taken in was surprised to see her there, he didn’t show it. Thaisha had been quiet when she got up and came down to make coffee, but he it was certainly possible he’d heard her. He was an alert young person, to put ‘hyper-vigilant’ mildly.
Hal had warned her about the kid when she first came back to town about little over a week ago. Well, perhaps ‘warn’ wasn’t the right word, because he wasn’t someone to be scared of, but he’d made her aware of the fact that Thjazi had sent him to them fresh off the front lines when the war had ended about three months back, and that trauma and likely others had obviously left their effects. Apparently it wasn’t unusual to find him awake at odd hours, often cleaning something or obsessively checking the doors to the house or making lists of all the food in the kitchen. All of which Hal passed on to Thaisha so she wouldn’t be surprised. He didn’t tell her not to be concerned; he obviously was, though he was trying to act normal about it for Azune’s sake, and he wouldn’t expect her to be any less protective of a struggling young person.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Thaisha asked Azune mildly as he entered. The boy didn’t look like he’d just woken up; his hair was neatly braided down his back, his sunset eyes clear rather than clouded with sleep like they would be on most teenagers at this time of the morning. He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. Thaisha expected some reassurance, perhaps an apology of his own for no reason anyone but him could understand, but that was very much not what she got.
“I want to come with you when you leave,” he said quickly, as if he needed to get the words out before he could talk himself out of saying them. “I have a list, of how I could be helpful and why I want to go, and I promise not to get in your way or be a burden and I swear I can keep up and won't slow you down.”
Okay. Thaisha may have been an early riser by nature, but that was a lot to think about first thing in the morning before she had even finished making coffee. There were a lot of implications to what Azune was asking and saying, and she had no doubt there would be a lot more if he recited those lists for her.
“Alright. Come sit down and let’s talk about this,” Thaisha invited him. Reaching under the small kitchen table with one foot, she pushed out a chair on the other side from her. She’d noticed that Azune had a hard time understanding requests or questions that weren't phrased directly, but he was very good with gestures. At a wave of her hand towards the stove and a couple of raised fingers, he dutifully fetched the coffee pot and two mugs before sitting down in the chair across from her.
Thaisha always preferred serious conversations to happen at a table. If the occasion was a negotiation between adversaries she was helping mediate, or in any kind of relationship that might shift from merely tense to openly hostile, it was best to have a physical barrier between parties to function as a shield should violence break out. And for friends and family, a table gave people a sense of concealment for comfort objects or self-soothing fidgeting they might otherwise not bring with them or engage in out of embarrassment.
Azune didn’t seem inclined to fidget, instead going worryingly still when something bothered him, and he clearly didn’t have any comfort items with him. At least he had brought two mugs with him to the table, though. Thaisha of course didn’t expect him to pour himself a cup of coffee before he’d offered it to her, but even after she’d poured what she wanted and there was clearly plenty left, he didn’t take any. She wondered if she should pour him some. If he was her kid, she’d say he was too young for it. He wasn’t a regular teen, though, but a soldier, and she knew soldiers tended to have a propensity for the stuff. Even if he didn’t drink it, perhaps the warmth would feel nice on his hands. But coffee probably counted as food in his book, though, and pouring it just to hold would therefore qualify as waste. She thought the idea of triggering him that way was probably worse than leaving him be, even if it was his issues with asking for things he wanted that was preventing him from taking any, so after a moment of internal deliberation, she set down the pot. Azune seemed happy enough just holding the empty mug, occasionally rotating it.
As she gave herself him a moment to settle in, Thaisha chose her words carefully and deliberately. That was important for the opening beats of a conversation, and important in general when someone had as much to heal from as Azune did.
“You don’t have to prove that you would be useful,” she said first. “That’s not a prerequisite for traveling with me, although a willingness to learn and help is obviously always appreciated. Speed isn’t much of a concern for me either, most of the time. But I have no doubt you could keep up and would make an excellent traveling companion.” From what Hal had told her, apparently Thjazi had at least tried to keep Azune from the fighting as much as possible when he was younger, so he’d mostly worked around the camp and had lots of practice with taking care of horses, packing and managing supplies, cooking for travel, etc. The house seemed to be benefiting from those skills already, because Thaisha had never seen the kitchen so clean.
Azune seemed to puff his skinny chest up in pride a little at her words. It took so little praise to make him so happy. She was cautious about not deflating that as she went on.
“So what I’d like to talk about is not so much whether you’d be good at it, but whether it would be good for you to come with me.”
“...okay,” Azune agreed, though he looked a bit puzzled. She wondered if he was disconcerted by the fact that they would be having a whole conversation about his needs and wants. Hal had obviously been trying to get to the bottom of those since Azune came to stay with them, but he probably had a more subtle way of going about things so as not to overwhelm the poor boy. But as pointed out, Thaisha left in two days, and they’d need time before that to prepare if they did decide he would come with, so she didn’t have the luxury to tease this out little by little. She also wondered if a direct approach might be equally comfortable for him. That way, there was no subtleties Azune might either miss or over-analyze.
“Firstly, I want to make sure you’re not asking to come with me because you just want to leave here. If that’s the case, and you don’t feel safe or comfortable in Hal’s home or in Dol-Makjar for any reason, we might be able to help with that if you can tell us what’s wrong.”
“No!” Azune instantly replied emphatically. His own exclamation seemed to surprise him, and he swallowed before going on more calmly. “It’s- it’s good here. Really, really good. I know I can get a little bit…” – He waved his hand around in a motion that somehow conveyed both nothing and a lot (he was good with gestures) – “when I get startled or in crowds, but that’s getting better, I promise, and you don’t need to be worried about it.”
“Okay. I’m glad to hear you like it here,” Thaisha replied. Her own throat felt a little tight as she added, “I do too.” She took a deep breath and then another sip of her coffee to steady herself. “It’s a good place. Which brings me to something I think you should know if you don’t already realize it.
“What I do is often hazardous. I don't seek out danger, but by definition in my work, I have to go to the parts of the world that need healing, and those often aren't safe. Not like it is here. I know Thjazi sent you to Hal to be safe, but you're also your own person and don't have to follow his directions all the time. You're old enough to make your own decisions when informed of the risks.”
It wasn't like danger hadn't already found Azune against his will when he was far too young. When Thaisha first learned that Thjazi had met the boy when he was only twelve, younger than her daughter was now, and that he'd still kept him with the Torn Banner, she could have punched him. Because he could have sent for her. Even during the worst of the Rebellion, when the fighting was at its fiercest, no one would have dared to stop a druid on her way to remove a child from a warzone. That wouldn’t have fixed what happened before, because Azune’s life had obviously have gone wrong for him to end up dumped on a group of mercenaries in the first place, but it could have kept him a little safer, kept things from getting even worse. Given him a jumpstart on healing from where he was now.
Azune, who still looked very young but also very serious, nodded. “I know. But I can handle myself, and I'm good at taking directions about when to engage and when to stand down, if that's important.”
“It often is,” Thaisha agreed placidly. Insight into other people’s intentions, and knowing when to escalate or deescalate, was probably one of the most important skills on the road when one ran into trouble . “It seems like you've thought this through, but I would still like to talk through why you want to come with me. You said you have a list?” Azune nodded. “Okay. You don't have to share any reasons you aren't comfortable sharing, but for those you are, why don’t you give them to me in order from least important to you to most?” It seemed counterintuitive, but it would give him time to warm up to the conversation, and give her time to let the coffee wake her up more, before getting to the big stuff. She could almost watch Azune flip his list upside down in his head and renumber his bullet points before he spoke.
“I’m not allowed to practice with any weapons around the house or anywhere the kids might see, like the theater,” Azune started. “Which makes sense, but if I’m going to be accepted into the Revolutionary Guard, I need to practice, and that makes it hard.”
Thaisha just nodded in response to that and let him continue. Even if she didn’t believe in much of the work of the Revolutionary Guard, that seemed like sensible. Maintaining his skills with a weapon would also serve him well should he instead choose to join the Order of the Roses or the fledging idea that had cropped up of a military force to patrol the most dangerous Barrowdells until they could be healed. As much as she wished she could see a future for Azune without violence of any kind in it, she acknowledged that he probably couldn’t imagine that at the moment.
“This also might be my only chance to go with you. Hal says the Revolutionary Guard probably wouldn’t even accept me for try outs until I’m a bit bigger, and once I’m grown and accepted into it, it’ll be important not to take too much time off so I can gain their trust and become a critical part in the machine easier.”
The bluntness with which he admitted to wanting to be a cog, and the fact he was so aware of it in the first place, probably shouldn’t have been surprising. Thaisha wondered if that was Thjazi’s influence on him, or even a direct suggestion by the rogue so he’d have a man on the inside in later years. Once Azune was grown up enough to even be called a man, rather than a teen or even a child.
“Okay. What else?” Those very much felt like his logistical answers, but even for Azune, there had to be more than practicality to it, or else he never would have mustered up the courage to ask.
“I… I don’t want Hal and the kids to get too used to me being here, so it won’t hurt as much when I leave. I don’t know why but it seems like they expect me to stay indefinitely, or maybe as long as Alogar still lives at home since we're the same age, and that’s… that’s too much.” Azune’s voice had gone quiet, and he had stopped making eye contact with Thaisha, looking down at the empty mug in his hands instead. “Hero called the room I’m staying in ‘my room’ the other day.”
“Even if you move out, that won’t change for a while here,” Thaisha warned him. “It’s different, but Hal still keeps a room for me even though I’m only here a few weeks a year. He waters the plants, some of them every other day.”
Azune nodded, like that made perfect sense to him. Did he understand Hal more in that situation, or her, she wondered. The drive to go or the pull to stay and make a safe place for loved ones to come back to. Hal was a homemaker in the most literal sense of the word, and while Azune couldn’t have had a home in years if not longer, it seemed the only part of this instinct that confused him was why he himself was included under it.
“I, um, also want to get to know you better,” Azune went on, and now he did look back up at her. “Everyone says the work you do is really important and you’re really good at it, and I don’t know a lot about the Old Path but I think I’d like to learn more. You’ve been really kind to me, and you’re good with people, just in a different way than Hal is, and I admire that.”
Huh. Thaisha hadn’t realized Azune even had enough experience of her to feel that way. She’d only been home for a week or so, and hadn’t interacted much with him in that time, focused more on hanging out with Hal and her kids. Before now, she didn’t think she’d had a one on one conversation with him. He was observant, though, and tended to let himself blend into the background when the whole family was around, so it was possible he was watching her more than she thought. And her kids had talked about her with him. That still made some complicated feelings bloom in her chest, even though it sounded like they'd said positive things and she had no regrets about the life she’d chosen.
“Travel does give you a lot of time for talking, and I would be happy to teach you about my work,” Thaisha agreed. “Is there any other reason you want to come with me?” Some instinct prompted her to ask, “Maybe something, or someone, you're looking for?”
Azune's sunset eyes darted to look directly at her black and gold ones a moment before his hands squeezed so tightly around the mug he held that he shattered it.
“Oh, shit, are you alright?” Thaisha instantly leaned across the table, peeling his hands back from the ceramic shards to make sure he hadn't cut himself. There was no blood, thankfully, but she prepared to have to comfort him that it was okay he'd broken something, since it was clearly an accident and she could fix it. The mug appeared to be homemade, probably by a child. She didn’t know which one of Hal’s children had made it, whether it was Hero or one of her own. While it looked thick and clumsy at first glance, it was also thinner in some places, and so it was probably inevitable that it would get cracked eventually anyway.
She wasn't expecting Azune himself to immediately cast Mending. He healed two of the larger pieces of the mug together first, and then went about carefully reassembling the shards of ceramic and sealing them back together with a sewing motion in the air to channel the magic. The repetitive action seemed to calm him without the need for her intervention or reassurance, though his breathing remained quick. Like for a toddler who'd fallen down but clearly hadn't hurt themselves, Thaisha decided the best course of action was to ignore the accident further, lest bringing it up forced him to acknowledge it or embarrassed him. She waited until the mug had been put back together, good as new, before going on.
“I'm guessing it's someone important to you, yeah?” She said softly. She couldn’t imagine that his reaction would have been that strong had he been thinking about a thing rather than a person. Her own most important travels always had a person at the end of them, rather than a purely physical destination or even a goal of something to accomplish. Visiting Dol-Rungja and her Grandmama and the rest of the Lloys who lived there, joining up with other druids of the Land and of other Circles, going to the Golden Orchard to see Aranessa. And, of course, returning here to her children and Hal. Any journey would be improved by meeting a friend or having one as a companion as she went.
“If I tell you, do you have to tell Hal?” Azune asked, not looking up. He had wrapped his hands back around the now-repaired mug. Thaisha hoped that nothing upset him enough to break it again, but she supposed he could fix it himself again if he did.
“Probably not. But I don't keep secrets that might put someone in danger. Is this one of those?”
Azune hesitated before shaking his head. “No. It's not a dangerous secret. I think it might just make Hal sad that I didn't tell him earlier.”
“Tell him what?”
“I have a sister.”
“Oh.” Azune’s family had never been so much as mentioned to Thaisha, and she therefore had assumed he was orphaned. That was probably still the case, but him not being alone in that did change things. For one, it perhaps explained part of why he seemed so uncomfortable with being treated as part of the family. Not that Hal and everyone wouldn’t also be incredibly welcoming to Azune’s sister, but they couldn’t do that when they didn’t know she existed. And if he hadn’t seen his sister in a long time, the reminder that she wasn’t with him was probably exquisitely painful. She knew that while Hal was always happy for her when she got a chance to see Kjasha or Gorzav, it had gotten harder not to be jealous as the war dragged on and it became longer and longer since he’d been able to safely see Thjazi.
“When was the last time you saw your sister?” Thaisha asked gently.
“Just- just before Thjazi took me in. I was twelve, she was- she had just barely turned fourteen.”
Dead fucking gods, these poor kids. Thaisha barely restrained herself from saying something inappropriately pitying out loud. She was an adult, and had chosen a life that often took her away from her family, and even then the idea of going four years without seeing them terrified her.
“Okay. I'll have more questions later, to narrow down where in the world we should potentially look for her, but for now I'll just ask one thing,” she informed him. “What's her name?”
“May- Mayali.” Azune’s words came out in a sudden sob. At that, Thaisha stood up from the table and moved around to his side. She didn't reach out to comfort him, not knowing if he would allow it. She just sat next to him so he would know she was there, close enough he could easily lean into her for a hug or simply for any kind of contact or support if he wanted it.
Thaisha wondered when was the last time Azune had said his sister’s name out loud to another person, and if it had been to her the last time he'd seen her. She had to imagine that if Thjazi had known, he would have said or done something. Maybe he would have used his newfound free time since the Rebellion ended to at least put out feelers for her. As much as Thaisha disagreed with his keeping Azune with him during the fighting, she knew he had cared for the kid.
Azune got his crying under control quickly. Probably worryingly quickly, even for a teenage boy. He cleared his throat and scrubbed his hands over his face, and when he moved them down again, revealed his birthmark and a look of both concentration and confusion. “Wait, um, you said ‘when we look for her’?” He clarified in a thick voice. “Do you mean I can come with you?”
“Yes.” At this, Thaisha did reach over and put her arm over Azune’s shoulders. “I would be very happy to have you with me to go look for Mayali.”
Upon her saying the name, Azune’s shoulders shook again under her arm, but this time he held it together.
“And I won’t tell Hal,” she promised. Azune was right that it would probably make him sad, but not because Azune hadn’t felt safe enough to tell him earlier. He would understand that. No, the knowledge that there were two kids he hadn’t been able to help would hurt him more, and the thought of them being separated for almost as long as Hal and Thjazi themselves had been since the Rebellion broke out. “That does mean he would be very surprised if we show up back here with her, though.”
“Do you… do you think he would let her stay awhile too? Just until we can get on our feet. I know two people are a bigger burden than one, and she might… she might be more messed up from the fighting than me. The Gallows Choir, the mercenaries we were with before, they weren’t as nice as the Torn Banner.”
“I don’t think there’s a chance in Aramán that Hal wouldn’t let you both stay as long as you needed,” Thaisha promised him. Hal himself wasn’t unfamiliar with the struggles of coming home from war, she knew. The first year or so they’d been together, he’d had nightmares nearly every night and sometimes after he woke up, she’d have to sit up with him for an hour to draw him back from wherever it was he’d gotten lost. It had thankfully eased by the time Alogar was born, but she knew he would still remember, understand, and empathize with anyone recovering from battle shock. It was probably one of the reasons Thjazi had sent Azune to him in the first place.
What was unexpected in Azune’s words was that he recognized that being in battle had affected him. She’d heard no sign of that awareness in his earlier conversation. The fact that it only came up in relation to his sister could not be a coincidence. And asking if they could stay here longer, for her, when he was so uncomfortable with accepting Hal’s hospitality for himself that that was part of the reason he wanted to go with Thaisha, that was telling too. She had already had the impression that Azune was much better at looking after others than he was taking care of himself, and this all but confirmed it.
Thaisha patted Azune’s far shoulder before standing up. “I’ll let Hal know you’ll be coming with me. Later today, would you feel up for going to the Lloy house? That’s where I keep my extra traveling supplies, and we can get you kitted out.”
“Okay,” Azune said with a shy nod. He looked worn out by the conversation, and by his tears, however brief, but also hopeful in a way she had not seen on his face before now. She desperately hoped that that hope was not in vain, but the realist in her worried. It was miraculous enough that Azune survived the war, and that had to be down in part to both Thjazi and sheer luck. Mayali was slightly older, and perhaps that gave her a better chance if it meant she wasn’t as little as Azune had to have been back then, but had still been very much a child at war, and without anyone looking out for her. There was every chance she was gone, and an even greater chance that Thaisha could look for years and never hear so much as a peep about her one way or the other. But she had to let Azune try to find her, and she had to help where she could.
“Don’t forget to eat breakfast,” she advised. “You’ll need to keep your strength up for the road.”
Eleven years later, as Thaisha rides out of Dol-Makjar past the Falcon’s Rest, she prays to her ancestors and the land that her current quest to reach Alogar will be more successful than that trip with Azune.
As she had feared, they’d found no sign of Mayali one way or another, even though Azune had stayed with her on the road for two months. The Gallows Choir had disbanded even before the end of the Rebellion, and its surviving members scattered to the point where they’d been unable to track down more than three, and none that had remembered Mayali. There had apparently been more than one child amongst their ranks.
But Thaisha hasn't stopped looking. On every trip for the past decade, she's kept an eye and an ear out for the names Nayar and Mayali and for tales of anyone with sunset eyes. Nothing has yet come of it, and Azune has long since stopped asking for news, but the habit of it has almost become soothing in its familiarity. Like the thought of Hal watering her plants.
She wishes Azune could have come with her again now. Like Alogar, he's grown up into a highly competent young man, both of them having achieved the rank of Lieutenant at a young age, and he cares for Al like family. It would be nice to have another fighter by her side, and another young man she’d once taken under her wing. One who is still alive, to balance out Occtis riding dead at her side. Thaisha needs that reassurance that she can still keep people safe, keep her sons safe.
But Azune has work to do back in Dol-Makjar, continuing Thjazi’s mission and keeping Hal safe. She doesn’t know if staying in the city, this time, will be any less dangerous than traveling with her. Hopefully it still is, but she has faith Azune can handle it if it isn’t.
For now Thaisha needs to keep her mind on the road ahead of her, though, not the home behind. It won't be nearly as hard to find Alogar as it is to track down Mayali, as his track is far from stale, but it does need her attention. With luck and help on her side, she'll bring Alogar home to roost. She doesn't let herself contemplate any other option.