Chapter Text
”Why does Lahabrea hate me, Hythlodaeus?” Azem grumbled to her friend while leaning against his side.
Hythlodaeus patted her on the back. “He doesn’t hate you – no one could hate you, Azem; you are unbearably adorable. He’s just… a very serious man,” he comforted her.
Azem stared at her glass in which the ice cubes were melting into the alcohol. “I don’t know about that. Today he gave such a long speech – no, a lecture – about ‘the irresponsible use of Convocation funds meant for the betterment of humankind’ and I could feel his eyes on me the whole time.” She shuddered. “I have killed all manner of beasts, monsters, and demons, but that man scares me to my very core.”
“Why? You could take him in a fight any day of the week.”
“Yet, there is such disdain in his eyes, such superiority, as if whoever he’s looking at could never measure up to his standards, to him,” Azem muttered and shivered. “Whenever I am around him… I almost regret joining the Convocation.”
“You have more than earned your seat, my friend,” Hythlodaeus assured her. “You are worthy. Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise. Now, drink and forget about him.”
Azem sighed and took a swig from her glass. “You are correct, I should focus on something else. How are things with you?”
“Very well, thank you for asking,” Hythlodaeus replied with a grin. “I am almost done convincing Emet-Selch to go to work without his underwear.”
Azem pulled away from him and grimaced. “Eww! I don’t want to know that!” she exclaimed and tried to banish the mental image of working alongside her friend who was naked under his official robe.
Hythlodaeus chuckled and tapped the side of his glass with his finger. “You are such a prude. Besides, you asked.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Azem groaned. “My mistake. I should have learned from the ‘what did you do today?’ incident. I will never get those pictures out of my mind, no matter how long I live. They will surely haunt me even after I return to the star.” She emptied her glass. “Regardless, I am happy that you are happy.”
“I know and it does you credit,” he replied. “We are so blissful, in fact, that Emet-Selch almost smiles occasionally.” Hythlodaeus’ lovely purple eyes became glazed, and his smile turned gooey as he thought about his longtime partner.
Azem laughed wholeheartedly and squeezed his hand. “Even after all these years, you are still so cute together that it warms my heart to be in your presence.”
“Good because, as your dearest friends, we like seeing you smile,” Hythlodaeus replied before his expression turned solemn. “You are happy, no?”
Azem opened her mouth to answer in the affirmative but paused. Was she? What was considered happiness? She – for the most part and excluding any interactions with Lahabrea – enjoyed her job and the ceaseless adventures it offered. She loved that she was able to continuously learn new things and meet new people. She was privileged to have friends like Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch and a mentor like Venat, but… in the end of the day, there was something missing. Something which her friends had but she lacked. Not that her life was bad, just… devoid of something essential, she knew not what. “I am… content.”
A touch of sadness appeared in Hythlodaeus’ eyes. “Azem…” he whispered and hugged her. “Remember that you are dear to me, and I will do anything I can for you. And the same goes for Emet-Selch.”
“I appreciate that, but I am fine,” she assured him. “Bloody Lahabrea has gotten me into a funky mood with his lecturing and disdain, I’ll be right as rain in the morning.” She squeezed him back before letting go. “I feel bad for you, having to listen to two different people whine about the same cranky old goat.”
“Our esteemed Emet-Selch doesn’t as much whine about the speaker as huff, grunt, and monologue,” Hythlodaeus pondered. “Speaking of my beloved partner, I imagine he should be returning home soon and I want to be there to welcome him.”
Azem sighed. She would have wanted to spend more time with her friend, but she understood well that his time with Emet-Selch was precious. Damn, had she herself had someone to love, she would definitely have made sure to be waiting for them at home whenever it was in her power to do so.
--
The sound of a bubbling, joyous laughter made Erichthonios look up from the drink he had been nursing for a long time in the corner of the bar. When he located the source of the laugh, his eyes widened with surprise. ‘Twas Euthemia, he was sure of it! He had of course heard about her booming success since leaving Anyder but he hadn’t seen her in person since. He was well aware of how much everyone loved the current Azem, and why should they not? Her merit had been obvious since she had been but a child. She had been kind to everyone, easy and funny to be around, and quick to make friends wherever she went. Erichthonios himself had never had the courage to approach her, but he had admired her from afar and yearned to be one of the people who she held close to her loving heart.
He watched as the purple-haired man hugged her and realized that ‘twas Hythlodaeus. It made sense that ‘twould be, for the two of them and Emet-Selch had been practically glued to each other throughout their schooling and he had heard rumors that the two men had often accompanied her on her journeys. A melancholy sigh escaped from Erichthonios’ lips, and he took a swig from his drink. Naught ever changed, it appeared. He was still the same inept, untalented, useless screwup he had been in school, still undeserving of anyone’s – least of all his father’s – regard, no matter how desperately he yearned for it. The only person who had ever looked upon him with favor had been his mother, and now she was gone. Erichthonios was completely alone.
--
“Before I go,” Hythlodaeus said, “I want to share something with you. Something which might cheer you up.”
“I am all ears,” Azem replied.
Her friend grinned mischievously. “There’s something I know and you don’t!”
“What Emet-Selch looks like when he comes?” Azem asked dryly. That was the kind of thing which Hythlodaeus usually loved to share.
“Besides that. I am pleased to announce that at this very moment there is someone in this room on whom you used to have a major crush,” Hythlodaeus informed her, looking very pleased with himself.
Azem rolled her eyes. “Riiight.”
“I’m not pulling your leg,” he assured her. “Erichthonios has been in the corner since before we got here. He still looks awesome, by the way, if very broody and miserable.”
Azem’s heartbeat quickened at the mere sound of that name. She wanted to swirl around in her seat right away but thought that doing so would be too obvious. She took her sweet time turning around and glanced nonchalantly towards the corner Hythlodaeus had indicated. There she did indeed spy a familiar wild bush of flame-red hair. She felt as if a lightning spell had struck her to the chest from where its effects danced onwards to all her extremities as she looked at the warder. His shoulders had gotten even wider since the last time she had seen him, even if they were currently stooped under the weight of the world. Despite the white mask he wore, she could tell that he was thoroughly mirthless.
“Oh my, did I just hear your panties drop?” Hythlodaeus queried while holding a hand to his ear and looking altogether too pleased with himself before falling silent for a moment. “Poor man, he is so sad that the sorrow is permeating his aether. Have you any idea why?”
“His mother returned to the star not long ago,” Azem replied without taking her eyes off the miserable man. The sadness was radiating off him to such an extent that she felt an overwhelming yearning to go to him, give him a hug, and listen to his troubles. It looked like no one had thought to do that so far since he was seated alone in a quiet corner with only an empty glass for company. “You go home and enjoy some quality time with your ‘honeybun hunk,’ as you insist on calling him. I will see if Erichthonios needs someone to talk to.”
--
“Erichthonios.”
The sound of his name made Erichthonios rise momentarily from the depths of despair and look up. To his surprise, a slender, petite figure clad in a dark robe and a Convocation mask surrounded by a voluminous waterfall of long, platinum hair was standing by his table and smiling amicably at him.
“Do you mind if I join you?” she queried in her caressing voice which had always made butterflies dance at the bottom of his stomach.
Suddenly, his throat felt dry like a fresh sheet. “Please.” He swallowed. “I am honored by your company, Euth— apologies, Azem.” He blushed and tried to rub his abruptly sweaty palms unto his robe inconspicuously. How long had it been since he’d last caught even a glimpse of her? She still looked wonderful, though somehow more mature, and mayhap calmer than before, more confident. Probably the consequence of traveling… and being the youngest person ever to have been chosen to serve on the Convocation. She was unquestionably a superstar, a hero of many an incredible tale – and he had heard all of them. Thrice.
“You shouldn’t be,” she replied in a pleasant tone and sat down in the chair opposite him.
Erichthonios realized that they had never done this before, been in each other’s company alone. He had never had the courage nor the opportunity of seeking such a situation with her. She had always been with either Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch or some other friends… and he had been alone, surrounded by the invisible wall of, ‘he is Lahabrea’s son, he must consider us unworthy of his attention.’ He had been too ashamed of his own shortcomings – and too shy – to break that wall himself, thus the solitude of his years in Anyder… and, frankly, ever since.
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” she said to his astonishment. “I know ‘tis not what one is supposed to say when someone returns to the star, but…” she raised her earnest, silvery eyes to meet his, “you look as if you might welcome such an inappropriate offer of condolences?”
There was naught but compassion in her gaze, and it broke him. A barrage of feelings hit him at once and he felt as if he was choking. He squeezed his fingers into his thighs, tears welled up in his eyes, and a thoroughly wretched little squeak escaped his lips before he could stop it. That someone should care… that someone should see… that someone would genuinely see what he felt, no matter how improper and unbecoming… and not only accept his feelings but sympathize with them?
He bit his lip to keep from weeping like a babe and shuddered from the effort of holding his emotions inside. So focused was he on controlling himself that he nigh jumped from his seat when he felt a body press against his side and a pair of arms extend to embrace him.
“I am breaking all kinds of taboos tonight,” Azem mumbled from somewhere around his chest, “but that’s practically in the job description of an Azem – at least if you ask some of the stuffier members of the Convocation. To be frank, they tell me without asking,” she admitted and gave a mirthless little laugh. “I apologize if I have given offense, Erichthonios, but you looked like you needed a hug.”
How did she do that? How did she just decipher that someone needed something which the social norms forbode and did it anyway – not for herself but for the person who needed it? Erichthonios was in awe. No one but his mother had hugged him before and that had been… decidedly different. Feeling Azem against him raised all sorts of emotions inside him but the most notable was warmth. Being hugged reminded him of the comfort of a loving touch in silence, of heartbeats settling due to the embrace of another, of how humans were meant to huddle together in times of distress to find solace from each other’s proximity. As he relaxed against her, he realized that he should probably let her know how much he appreciated her spontaneous, though characteristic act of kindness.
“Thank you, Azem. I—I thank you,” he managed and raised a hand hesitantly to rest on her back in an attempt to reciprocate the hug. “I am not offended but grateful.”
“Good.”
They hugged in silence for a long time. Her soothing presence and the pressure of her body against his made him feel better than he had since his mother’s passing. Since she was showing no signs of pulling away, he took the liberty of pressing his cheek against her hair and drawing in its elegant scent. The fragrance of vanilla and strawberries made him sigh and pull her just a little closer.
“Erichthonios,” she said in a quiet voice and sat up straighter. He met her eyes. “It seems to me that we have both had a shitty day, so how about going to my place where we can drown our sorrows in copious amounts of alcohol and talk in peace?”
He didn’t even need to think about it. “I would like that, Azem.”